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motorsportbarbie13 · 4 months ago

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The Yapping Hour is Upon Us

In which Max decides that maybe doing interviews isn't such a bad thing.

Warnings: jos verstappen mention ew Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2.5k plus social media posts

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TheYappingHour posted:

349,219 likes liked by redbullracing, charlesleclerc, and others TheYappingHour Back at it this week with a very super top secret special guest. I simply can't wait to reveal who's on this weeks pod, you guys! You're going to DIE. (peep the clue in the second picture!) user928 her podcast set up is so aesthetic i can't user0928 RED BULL??? what does this meeeeeean??? >>>user1211 she hasn't done a ton of athletes in the past, maybe she got one of the Red Bull athletes!! user00291 DU DU DU DU MAX VERSTAPPEN. (shhh let me be delulu for a minute) >>>user221 as much as i'd love that, we all know how much Max hates interviews.

There was absolutely no reason why having Max Verstappen on your podcast should be making you this nervous. You’ve interviewed actual heads of state, a former president, and royalty for crying out loud and you’re losing your mind over Max fucking Verstappen? You supposed it came from the fact that you had spent most of your childhood traveling from track to track to watch your dad race in NASCAR, racing was in your blood and you knew how revered and idolized Max was. And how rabid his fans could get. You wanted to get this interview right. Needed to get this interview right. Motorsport were still a huge part of your life, even if you weren’t really outwardly an active fan. You never missed a NASCAR or F1 race and while you considered yourself a Ferrari girlie, Red Bull was most certainly your second team.

“Everything ready?” Your assistant Shannon pokes her head in as you fluff the last throw pillow on the cream colored lounge chair. Scanning the room, everything looks to be in order. The two overstuffed chairs dominate the center of the small recording studio, each with a microphone set up on a small side table next to each chair. Instrumental versions of Taylor Swift songs floated out of small speakers tucked away and a few candles burned in the low light of the studio, creating the exact ambiance you were famous for.

You’d been doing your podcast, The Yapping Hour, for nearly five years now and it was now one of the most popular podcasts being produced. You specialized in relaxed interviews of people that the general public don’t get to see relaxed very often. Your big break had come about 3 years ago when you had somehow managed to land an interview with Michelle Obama, her episode was still the most streamed episode of yours to date. Everyone had fallen in love with your interview style, how you got these normally highly media trained individuals to drop their guard down a little and be real for even just an hour. It gave people such a unique glimpse behind the curtain of fame and your fans ate up every bit of it.

“I think so!” You nod, smoothing down the front of your boyfriend cut jeans even though the denim is perfectly ironed without a single wrinkle.

“Good, because he just pulled in the parking lot.” Shannon smirks. She knows how nervous you are for this interview and is insisting it’s because you have a crush on the driver. Which would utterly unprofessional if it were true. But it wasn’t true. At all. “And he’s driving this matte black Aston Martin.” She closes her eyes as she bites her lip, smirk growing even wider.

“Okay, let’s cool it on the hero worship.” You warn, following Shannon out into the lobby of the building.

Outside, it’s a dreary late April morning in the heart of downtown London. You had traveled from your home base in New York City just for this interview but had been surprised at how much you liked the ambiance and energy in the city. So much so that you had extended your stay a few extra weeks. The good thing about being your own boss of a podcast was that you could literally work from anywhere you had your laptop.

Peering out into the parking lot, you’re surprised to see a lone figure in jeans and what looked to be a Red Bull windbreaker, hustling across the pavement towards the door. When he approaches the door, Shannons steps forward to open the door, a gust of wind whipping at your hair when Max comes bustling in through the doors.

“Hello!” Max’s voice sends involuntary shivers down your spine, a feeling you fight hard to shove down. This is not the time to be a fan girl, you remind yourself.

“Hi Max, thank you so much for joining us today! Can I get you some water or maybe some tea?” Shannons steps forward first, extending her hand.

Max takes it and gives her a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Water is fine, thanks.”

“Max, it’s such a pleasure to meet you.” You step forward then, the heels of your black Louboutain’s clicking on the hardwood floor as you approach him. It takes every ounce of focus you have not to react at what feels like a white hot spark flickering over your skin when his hand touches yours for the first time.

“Pleasure is mine.” He murmurs, cat like smirk replacing the warm smile that had greeted Shannon. Your social media did you absolutely no justice and Max was finding it hard to keep his composure you were so pretty.

“Are we waiting on anyone else or is it just you today?” You ask, eyes darting above his shoulder to see if there was anyone still in the parking lot.

“Why? Will I be needing my body guard today?” He quips as he follows you towards the recording studio.

You pray the dim lights in the studio hide the way you’ve gone pink. “Of course not! It’s just that normally the people I have on the show travel with an…entourage.”

“I don’t like people.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious fact in the universe. “I prefer to travel solo. Besides, I’m no Queen of the Netherlands or Justin Trudeau, I don’t really need an entourage.”

He casually drops two of your biggest interviews like it’s nothing and you feel the pink tinge of your cheeks heat to a crimson red. “You’ve listened to the show then?”

He nods, taking the seat you offer him as Shannon and your AV guy Steve bustle around getting things set up. A bottle of water appears for each of you and you take out the pages of notes you’ve made even though you’ve got all the questions memorized. You like to be prepared and prefer your interviews to be more conversational, less question and answer.

“I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” His eyes hold this glint of mischief that if you were less of a professional, would have you biting your lip and kicking your feet. Truth was, Max had spent an ungodly amount of time on your socials and wikipedia page, obsessing over you and your career.

“And yet you still came.” You tease.

“I did.” He says simply and you can’t help but notice how his gaze briefly drops from your eyes down to your lips and quickly back up. It’s so quick that if you weren’t in the business of watching and observing people, you probably would have missed it. But those baby blue eyes of Max’s are so easy to read, all you can do is grin back at him.

“Well, thank you for making the trek into London today. I do appreciate it.”

You briefly explain how the interview is going to work, how Steve is going to make sure everything is set up and recording, how you’ll post audio and video versions and that he can have final say in anything that goes in or stays out of the interview. You’ve found that a lot of your guests appreciate that little clause and in the five years you’ve been doing the show only a handful of bits have been kept out. You like to think it’s because you’re good at what you do and get people to open up on a level that they feel comfortable with.

Steve finally gives you the okay and you settle into the cozy lounge chair, Max sitting comfortably in the one opposite you.

“Thank you again for joining me today, Max. I’ve got to admit, I was a little surprised when your manager said you’d agreed to come on the show. You don’t do a lot of lengthy interviews and I could only find a handful of podcast appearances over the years. So, why The Yapping Hour? Why now?”

Max takes a sip of water before placing it on the table beside him. His shoulders are relaxed, his ankle sitting on his knee is a causal pose. You’ve become a veritable body language expert since starting the show and you can already tell this is going to be a good interview.

“I like your style.” His blunt answer throws you off for a moment and your cheeks heat. Again. You make a mental note to make sure they edit your complexion in post production to take the blush out. “GP sent me the one you did with Dale Earnhardt Jr a few months ago and I was impressed at how authentic you were. Dale is a character but you got a lot of depth out of him. Your questions went beyond the typical ‘what’s your favorite race track.’”

“Well, thank you. That is quite the compliment coming from you.” For the third time in a short time, you blush at the compliments this man is handing out left and right.

Your eyes flicker above Max’s shoulder to where Shannon and Steve sit, their smug faces tell you that you’re not imagining him flirting with you.

“I have to tell you, I went karting with a few friends in prep for this interview and oh my God, I’ve been sore ever since! I can't imagine how hard an F1 car is on your body. Talk to me a little bit about your training sch-…”

“You went karting as research?” He interrupts you, face a mask of disbelief.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, “Of course, I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” You toss him a wink and enjoy the way your stomach flips when his ears go a bit pink. “My dad beat me by almost 20 seconds and I don’t think I’ll ever hear the end of it, but it was worth it. I can see why so many people get hooked, it was so fun.”

“Karting with a NASCAR legend had to make it a little better though, yeah?”

“You know my dad?” Your brows nearly hit your hairline, you’re so surprised at this. Your dad had been long retired before Max had come onto the racing scene and there wasn’t a huge overlap in fan bases between F1 and NASCAR.

Max nods, “He was racing around the time Jos was in F1. I still remember that one Daytona 500 where he stole the win from Earnhardt Jr on the last lap after he’d led for the entire race.”

You tilt your head back laughing and Max thinks it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever heard, fully entranced by the long column of your neck that’s suddenly exposed. “Oh God, dad is going to die when he hears you know about that race.”

“Have either of you been to an F1 race yet?” A plan begins to form in Max’s head.

“No!" You lean forward to swat at his arm playfullt. I’ve tried a few times but it’s always fallen through. I do watch most of the races though, as long as my schedule permits. Sometimes it’s easier when you guys are in Europe because the races are so early in New York, it’s easy to watch them from bed on Sunday mornings.”

The image of you wrapped up in a fluffy duvet wearing nothing but his t-shirt as you watch him race nearly sends Max into orbit. He blinks furiously, trying to get that vision out of his mind so he can pay attention to you.

“Tell me this then, if you could pick any garage to watch the race which one would it be and why would it be Red Bull?"

You can’t help that laugh that explodes from you then and Max preens under your attention, smile stretching wide across his handsome face. “You know, I could have sworn it was my name on the podcast Instagram page.” You tease, giving him a wink. “You keep asking me questions, I’m going to be out of a job, Verstappen.”

“I can’t help it when the interviewer is much more interesting than I am.” He murmurs, taking another sip of water without taking his eyes off of you.

The rest of the interview continues on for the next two hours and you get so much content you feel a little dizzy at the thought of having to cut over half of the episode. For the first time in the podcast’s history, you may have to split this into two episodes. Max doesn’t mind one bit, finding that he’s not as nervous as he thought he’d be with how easy he finds it talking to you.

You wrap up the interview over an hour past the time you had told Max’s press officer it would last but neither of you make any movement to get up, despite both Shannon and Steve beginning to wrap things up.

“I’m so sorry I kept you this long, Max. I know you’re not a huge fan of lengthy interviews.”

Max just shrugs, “If all interviews were like this, I probably would say yes to a lot more of them.”

You grin over at him as you rise, realizing the sun is setting outside and your stomach is aching for food. Max follows suit, although he feels a clench in his stomach realizing that his time with you is coming to an end.

“Can I ask you something?” He says when Shannon and Steve walk out of the studio, leaving the two of you alone.

You look up at him and nod earnestly, “Of course!”

“Why didn’t you ask me about my childhood? Usually it’s one of the first things people ask me, especially in these kinds of interviews.”

You shrug, face heating at being found out. “Like you, I do my research and I figured you might not want to talk about that part of your life. I want my guests to feel comfortable when they come on the show, not immediately put on the defensive. I guess I thought there were other more important topics…”

Your words hang in the air, heavy between you two. Something in Max’s chest aches at the simple kindness you’ve extended him. It’s true, he doesn’t like revisiting his childhood very often, especially when it’s recorded and will be put on the internet. His dad was very much still in his life, obviously, and while he had done a lot of work to move past his childhood, it was still painful to talk about.

“Thats…wow. Thank you.” Is all he can manage, voice thick with emotion.

“Of course.” You murmur, reaching out to touch his elbow in what you hope comes across as a comforting gesture.

Max’s eyes drop to where your slender fingers rest on his bare arm before a smile stretches back across his face. “I know it’s kind of last minute but you were saying earlier you’d never been to a race. We’re in Miami next weekend and I’d love it if you were my guest…”

You can’t help the flutter in your chest at how nervous he appears standing before you. Your eyes dart over to Shannon, the official keeper of your schedule and are delighted when she nods vigorously, phone in hand with your calendar already pulled up. You made a mental note to give that girl a raise ASAP. “I would love to, Max.”

“Yeah?” He sounds almost shocked that you had agreed so quickly.

“Yeah.” You say, a hint of a giggle at the edge of your voice.

“How about I take you out to dinner tonight and we can work out the details.”

“Why Max Verstappen, I had no idea you were this smooth.”

TheYappingHour posted

987,392 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, susiewolff, and others TheYappingHour SURPRISE! Part one of my interview with none other than 3 time F1 world champion Max Verstappen is live on all socials RIGHT NOW. (yeah, I said part 1! We both yapped so much you're getting a part two next week!) user9382 the chemistry between these two was OFF THE CHARTS >>>user111 ikr? i felt like i was interrupting something the entire hour. MaxVerstappen1 it was a pleasure meeting you! can't wait to see you in Miami this weekend! >>>user2999 MAX WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T WAIT TO SEE HER IN MIAMI. >>>user999 stfu she is so coming to the Miami race?? MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN. user3210 has she ever done a two parter before??? not even the Queen of the Netherlands got a two parter!! user9928 i don't think i've ever seen Max this relaxed during an interview EVER. >>>user222 seriously! He was like a little boy with a crush then entire time.

yourpersonalinsta posted

234,100 likes liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, michelle obama, and others yourpersonalinsta we yapped some more and stuffed our faces. til next time, maxie! (tagged: maxverstappen1) user999 not michelle obama herself in the likes maxverstappen1 you're going to be trouble in miami, aren't you? >>>yourpersonalinsta what do you think? ;) >>>user9932 oh my godddddd user028 this is the couple i didn't know i needed

tag list (some of you only requested to be on a series tag list but i am not organized enough for that. lmk if you want to be removed!! also fingers crossed this tag list works this time ffs. sorry!)

@anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @powerfulmess @technicallypleasanttree @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @unknownmystery22 @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream

#f1 #formula 1 #max verstappen #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff

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harrysfolklore · 1 year ago

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Tom Blyth and YN Take a Couples Quiz | GQ - actress!yn

gif by @obriy <333

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

read my actress!yn x tom insta blurb here <3

"Hi I'm YN"

"And I'm Tom"

"And today we're doing..." you looked at Tom so you could say the following part of your introduction together, "The GQ Couple Quiz!"

"Are you nervous?" you said as you looked at him, noticing his hands fidgeting on his lap.

"I'm alright, I'm pretty confident I'm a great boyfriend and I'll know all the answers." he gave the camera his million dollar smile and you couldn't help but show a smile of your own.

"Okay, first question," you looked at the card in your hands, "What is the name of my first movie?

"That one's pretty easy," he shrugged before continuing, "Spider-man Homecoming."

"That's correct," you flipped the card to read the next question, "What city did I grow up in?

Tom stayed quiet for few seconds, looking nervously at the camera and making you laugh.

"Already? Really?" you looked at him in disbelief, "I thought you were a great boyfriend!"

"I am! This is a tricky one!" Tom moved his hands around and you covered your mouth with the card to hide your laugh "Okay, you were born in California, but you actually grew up in Phoenix."

"Correct! See! You knew it," you grabbed the card with the next question, "What would my job be if I weren't an actress?"

"Detective," Tom quickly said, "100% detective."

"Oh! That was fast," Tom shrugged before you continued, "Okay bonus, what kind of detective?" you looked at him with a raise eyebrow.

"Homicide," he replied quickly again, "All of those true crime podcasts prove it."

"Well yeah, that's true," you smiled as you read out the following question, "Where was our first date?"

"It was at your house," Tom smiled as he remembered the moment, "And it was playing Clue, and I had to pretend to enjoy that game for you, and it was totally worth it."

"How sweet of you," you smiled at him before continuing, "Oh boy, you have to be specific for this one," Tom raised his eyebrows and waited for you to give him the question, "What is my night routine?"

"So, she puts on this little pink robe," he explained directly to the camera, "And then she puts her hair on one of these stretchy bandanna things so her hair is out of her face," you smiled at him, indicating that he was answering correctly, "Then she washes her face with this like foamy cleanse thing, then she puts on all her creams, and then when she's walking to the bed she turns on the heat, which is probably the only thing that we fight about," you both let out a laugh as he continued, "And then she gets in, she goes by her cupboard and she puts on these really fluffy and ridiculously warm socks and also my really baggy tracksuit bottoms but she rolls 'em and she puts one of my t-shirts 'cause she likes the smell of my aftershave," he smirked and you blushed for a second, "Then she gets in bed and she asks me to put one of these big fluffy, white blankets in the dryer so It's warm, then I tuck her in and put the other blanket on her and that's it."

"Okay wow, you killed that one," you smiled at him, "You did really well."

The next questions were pretty easy for Tom's liking, getting right your astrological sing, celebrity crush, favorite ice cream flavor and the year you won your first Emmy. He ended up getting 23 points.

Now, it was your turn to answer questions about him.

"You feel ready, love?" he said giving you a smirk and you only nodded motioning him to read the first question, "Okay good luck, how old was I when I got my first role?"

"You were fifteen and already getting cast by Ridley Scott ." you answered confidently and sent a wink his way.

"Neat. What was the name of the high school I graduated from?"

"Was it North Hilld?" at this, Tom raised his eyebrows and shook his head, "Shit! It was Hills something, right?"

"You really don't know the name, love? This is making you look bad!" you covered your face in embarrassment, even tho you knew he was joking, "The correct answer is Arnold Hills."

"Ohhh that's right, give me the next one I'll do better."

"Okay, okay," he looked down at the card with the next question, "Who's my celebrity crush?"

"Also easy, Jennifer Aniston," you smiled looking at the camera, “You had a poster of her hidden in your closet and all.”

"Nope, you're wrong," you raised your eyebrow at him, pretty sure you were right about your answer, "You're my celebrity crush, love."

"Tom! That was so bad!" you both laughed and he winked to the camera, "This is a serious game."

"Okay, okay, you got that one right," you rolled your eyes with affection as he read your next question, "The next questions are going to be a single sentence answer so I need you to do it as fast as you can, okay?"

"I'm ready, let's do it"

"My go-to Karaoke song?

"Senorita by Justin Timberlake."

"What is my coffee order?"

"Oat milk latte."

"What is my biggest pet peeve?"

"Loud chewers."

"What's my hidden talent?"

"Whistling, like, melodically whistling if that makes sense."

"Okayy, those are all correct," he put the cards on the small coffee table between you, "We make a pretty good team, don´t you think?"

"We do, but I'm pretty sure I won." you shrugged and Tom laughed as you both turned to the camera to say your goodbyes.

"Thank you so much for watching. I personally think I won but we'll see."

"Thank you GQ!" you waved you hand and the camera stopped rolling shortly after.

The video ended up being one of the most watched on GQ's YouTube channel.

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matty-bear · 1 year ago

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Heyy! I was wondering if I could request a sturniolo triplets x sister reader. She’s like 17/18 and they are doing a podcast episode with her, and they talk about childhood stories and maybe she plays football or something, or is really into art. Just an idea… love you fics btw!

A Trip Down Memory Lane

type: request !

pairing: sturniolo x little sister

warnings: sfw, fluffy, lighthearted sibling banter

summary: the triplets invite you to join one of their podcast episodes ! cue in the bickering and childhood memories

notes: hope this is what you were wanting ^^ writing this was sm fun ! had a little trouble figuring out the childhood memories but i think i got the bickering down 🔥 happy reading ! hope you enjoy <3

WC: 3425

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

“Good morning Campers and welcome back to the Cut The Camera Podcast!” Nick greets, a small smile toying at his lips as he looks at the camera before him. “It’s your favorite host… Not Matt, not Chris…” A few beats of silence pass by as the redhead leans closer to his mic. “Nick Stromboli.”

Chris can be heard faintly giggling as Matt rolls his eyes. “I’m Matt.” The said male adds, holding up a small peace sign as he looks at his camera.

“I wonder if someone will see that clip of you saying ‘Nick Stromboli’ and actually think that’s your last name,” Chris says as he leans towards his mic, his eyes shifting over at Nick who’s smiling proudly.

The redhead’s smile falls as a thinking expression plays on his face. “No, because it’s crazy how I will instinctively say ‘Stromboli’ over and over again. Like the number of times I’ve said that instead of Sturniolo is getting a little worrisome.”

“I’m Chris by the way!” The said male shouts with a large smile. He leans back in his chair and strums an imaginary air guitar for a moment before he returns in front of his mic. Nick adds to the boy's shenanigans by mimicking a few guitar noises before the brunette continues speaking. “Welcome to episode 35 of Cut The Camera Podcast. Today we have a very special episode for you guys because we have a guest joining us today.”

“She is sitting right across from me actually. Please, madmazel, introduce yourself to the viewers.” Nick dramatically brings his hand out in front of him and bows his head down. You roll your eyes at the sight and adjust the headphones on your head before looking straight into the camera across from you.

“Hey guys! I’m y/n, it is very nice to be on here finally.” You greet, your voice soft as you gently speak into the mic.

“How anticlimactic and boring was that.” You hear Matt mumble. You quickly whip your head around and narrow your eyes at the male who’s resting his head in his hand.

“Says the one who said ‘I’m Matt’ and called it a day. You can’t be calling me boring when I said more words than you.” You sas, your statement earning a muffled giggle from Chris. Matt sends you a glare, the two of you locking eyes for a moment before he leans in closer to his mic.

“Womp womp.”

“Yeah, womp womp to you, kid. Let’s see if I beat you in talking today.”

“OKAY!” Nick exclaims, a single hand raising as he cuts the bickering between you and Matt. “We’re not even five minutes in and you two are already fighting.”

“Well, he started it.” You defend as you point an accusing finger towards Matt. Before the male gets the chance to retaliate, Nick cuts him off.

“Enough! You will have the chance to argue later.” You roll your eyes and send another glare toward Matt as the older sticks his tongue out at you. “Anyways… Guys, this is our younger sister, y/n if you didn’t know.”

“You guys don’t see her very often since she’s very camera shy and hates being on social media,” Chris adds as he reaches for the red solo cup in front of him.

“What can I say, social media is a very toxic place.” You say with a shrug.

“I completely agree.” You nod your head faintly when Nick points his finger at you. “Adding onto what Chris said about y/n being camera shy, we had to beg her to come on here for a week straight.” You send an innocent smile to your camera at the male’s statement and make a small heart with both your hands.

“They almost gave up until I mentioned that we’d buy her food for a week,” Matt says, both his thumbs pointing toward Chris and Nick.

“And Matt said he’d buy me a Fortnite skin!” You add. “I’m waiting for the item shop to refresh so I can make him buy the one I want.”

“Okay, I knew about the food but not the skin,” Nick says, a single eyebrow raising as he looks over at Matt.

“She made me add it,” Matt replies with a dramatic sigh. “She’s gonna run my pockets dry I kid you not.”

“Yeah, yeah, you love me anyway.”

“Do I?” A fake hurtful expression paints your face as you look over at Matt.

“How rude.” You mumble with a frown.

“Guys I'm kidding by the way. Don’t wanna stir up unnecessary drama.” Matt quickly blurts out as he points at his camera.

“Say you love me back then.” You say, your arms crossing over your chest as you stare down at the older male. Matt takes a glance over at you before his gaze shifts over to Chris who gives him a small shrug.

“I love you too.” Matt mumbles, earning a victorious smile from you.

“Are you two done? Can we continue?” Nick asks, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he leans against the booth.

“We’re done.” You reply with a smile.

“Okay perfect.” Nick adjusts his posture and reaches for his phone to pull up his notes app. “So, y/n, would you care to tell the viewers a few things about yourself? You know like how old you are, what you like to do, basic stuff.”

“Of course!” You exclaim, you smile not faltering as you look into your camera. “Well for starters, I am 18 years old and my birthday is a week after the triplets’. Hate being the youngest because these fuckers are always teasing me about everything. Especially when it comes to potential love interests.”

“It’s called tough love and being protective.” Chris corrects as he points a single finger at you.

“Yeah, yeah.” You take a moment to roll your eyes before you continue. “Anyways, there are some things that I enjoy while being the youngest but I don’t think that’s very important right now. As for hobbies, I enjoy art. Especially painting. I have a shit ton of art supplies and enjoy taking time out of my day to take my canvas, paintbrush, and a few paints outside to paint the world around me. I find it very calming and it helps with my anxiety quite a bit.”

“Sorry for cutting you off. I have to say this real quick.” Nick says as he holds one of his hands out in front of him. You faintly nod your head at the redhead, letting him know he can continue. “y/n is actually really good when it comes to painting. Like especially her landscape works. If she lets me, I’ll post a photo of one of her works on my story after this podcast episode gets uploaded.”

“Awh, thanks, Nick.” You say, a shy smile overtaking your lips as you begin to fidget with the few rings littering your fingers.

“I agree with Nick. For my birthday y/n painted me the most beautiful forest landscape with a cabin. I have yet to put it up yet since I’m scared I’ll fuck it up so it’s just sitting on my desk.” Matt adds, the biggest smile creeping onto his lips as he taps back to the day you gave him the said painting.

“Kid literally cried when she gave it to him. I don’t blame him though, it really is a sick-ass painting.” Chris hops onto the small compliment train as you find yourself sinking into the seat you're in, suddenly feeling a little shy.

“I’m working on something for you two by the way.” You speak up, your statement gaining the attention of all the boys as they quickly look over at you. “Nick’s is done, I'm just doing some finishing touches on yours, Chris.” Excited expressions can be seen on the two boy’s faces as they smile widely.

“Don’t play with me, I’m so fucking excited.” Chris says as he hugs himself.

“Can you send pics to me? I wanna see.” Matt asks as he sends you a large smile.

“Yeah, I’ll send you pictures when I get home.” You reply with a small smile of your own.

“Are you ready to move into the next topic, y/n?” Nick asks as he takes his phone back in his hand and scrolls through his list of questions.

“Born ready.” You reply, firmly nodding your head as you sit at the edge of your seat and lean in closer to your microphone.

“Alright…” Silence fills the studio for a moment before Nick asks the next question. “How is it like having triplet older brothers? Like in school or just in general.”

“Hmm.. Interesting question.” A faint hum emits from your closed lips as you gently tap your pointer finger against your chin. “As for school, being in the same school as you guys was quite the experience. If I got the same teacher as one of you and the teacher recognized my last name, they would go on a small tangent about what it was like having you in the class. When it came to girls, it was pretty freaky considering how most of them tried to befriend me just so they could get closer to the y’all. So making friends that weren’t interested in using me to know my brother was a little tough. I did find a few friends though so I promise I'm not a lonely little fuck.”

All three boys laugh in unison the moment the last sentence escapes your mouth. You simply shrug your shoulders and send your camera a tight-lipped smile before one of your brothers speaks up.

“She’s lying, she has like two close friends right now.” Matt says, earning a loud, dramatic gasp from you.

“Matt, what the fuck!” You exclaim, a hurtful expression playing on your face as you look over at the older male. “In my defense, I think that it’s better to have two close friends than 10 friends who are fake.”

“She has a point.” Chris says as he gently nods his head.

“y/n, continue.” Nick urges as he waves his hand out in front of him.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted.” You start, your eyes narrowing as you glare at Matt. “I also found it quite weird how girls would openly confess their feelings for one of you guys to my face. Like… Why are y'all telling me this, I'm not them. I also didn’t understand what they saw in you guys.”

“Okay, rude.” Nick mumbles as he focuses his gaze on his phone.

“Yall are my brothers so I could never see them how I saw you.” You defend with a shrug. “Anyways, outside of school was a whole different story. People didn’t know I was y’all’s sister unless they knew of my last name or if I was hanging out with you guys. Speaking of hangouts, I found it quite endearing how people would come up to us because they recognized you guys. Like you guys always talked out how being recognized in public was a dream of y'alls and seeing it happen was very heartwarming. Apart from being recognized, it was funny to see people’s reactions to seeing triplets just walking around minding their own business. It was like I was in a fucking zoo when I was with these three. I always had to tell people to mind their business because they just stand there and fucking stare. Like God, some people just have no manners sometimes.”

“Yeah, some people act like we’re literal aliens. It’s fucking weird. Like hello, we’re regular human beings that just so happen to be triplets.” Chris chimes in as he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s fucking insane.” You agree as you nod your head faintly, your gaze shifting to Nick whose eyes are glued to his phone.

“You texting your boyfriend over there?” You call. Your statement quickly catches the redhead’s attention as he quickly lifts his head, his face flushing as he locks eyes with you. “Did I miss something?”

“No,” Nick replies flatly.

“Why are you blushing then?”

“I’m not?”

You send the older male a look as he avoids your intense gaze by looking back down at his phone.

You were definitely gonna pry about this later.

“Anyways, next topic,” Nick says after he clears his throat. “What are some of your favorite childhood memories that we were a part of?”

“God there’s so many.” You start as you begin to gaze off into the distance, your mind running with countless old memories. “I’ll start with Chris and work my way up.” All three boys nod their heads and wait for you to continue to be lost in your thoughts for a moment longer before you finally continue. “I remember when dad took Chris out to play mini golf one day and I begged Jimmy to take me with him because I wanted to hang out with Chris. I vividly remember placing bets with Chris on who would make the most holes and the loser would have to jump in a bush and give up 20 bucks to the winner. Seeing Chris jump in a bush and humiliate himself in front of a group of girls was the highlight of my week.”

“How old were you when this happened?” Matt asks with a laugh.

“About nine.” You reply, faintly nodding as you look over at Chris who has his head buried in his hands.

“So you’re telling me a nine-year-old beat you in a game of mini golf,” Nick states as he turns in his seat to also look over at Chris.

“I let her win!” The brunette defends as he points his pointer finger at you.

“Did you really?” You ask, your jaw-dropping.

“Yeah.”

“We’re going out for another game of mini golf then because that’s fucked up.”

“Fine, we’re going this weekend.”

“Same rules?”

“Same rules but we’re tripling the prize money.”

“Alright, word. You’re going down, Owen.”

“Ooohh she said your middle name.” Nick coos as he bites back a laugh.

Chris rolls his eyes, a smile creeping up onto his lips. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll see this weekend.”

“Guys, I'm gonna record our game and send it to Nick so you guys can see how badly I’ll destroy him.” You say as you stare into your camera. Chris shakes his head and makes a talking gesture with his hand before you continue. “Anyways, I remember when I was like 7 that for Halloween, Matt and I both wanted to be Spider-Man but we were arguing about it for like two hours because we both couldn’t be Spider-Man. And before you all say anything, I don’t think Spider-Gwen existed back then so I didn’t even think of being the female version of Spider-Man. Anyways, mom ended up painting my suit a different color so me and Matt could both wear our suits and go trick or treating.”

“Oh my God, I remember that. We were both being annoying little pricks with our web shooters.” Matt says with a smile as he does a web-shooting gesture with his hand.

“I also remember Dad having to confiscate the said web shooters because you and y/n kept abusing us with them,” Nick adds as he rolls his eyes and leans back against the booth with his arms crossed.

“Those fuckers hurt like hell. I think I had a bruise for like a week.” Chris says as he rubs the side of his thigh.

“Yeah, yeah. What matters most is that Matt and I had the night of our fucking lives.” You say as you look over at the said male. You go to send him a smile but the moment you see the older get up from his seat and lean towards you with his hand held out in front of him, you quickly lean in and share a quick high five.

“Anyways... I didn’t forget about you, Nick.” You start as you send a wide smile to the said male. “When I turned eleven, Mom and Dad took us to go to the arcade for my birthday because I wanted to get all the plushies. Me being fucking dog shit at crane games ended up spending all my game currency in like 10 minutes and didn’t win anything. When Nick found out, he used the remainder of his credits to get me like five Hello Kitty plushies. I still have them to this day and they’re all sitting on my bed. Not to mention how like two of them are fucking massive and so soft.”

“Wait, you still have them?” Nick asks, his eyes slightly wide as he looks at you.

“Of course I do! They’re tied to memories, Nick.” You reply as you twirl your finger inside one of the holes at the corner of the desk.

“How much stuff do you have from your childhood? Like did you keep most stuff in your old bedroom or did you get rid of everything?” Chris asks as he shifts his focus over to you, his left hand reaching to bring the microphone closer to him.

“It depends on the emotional connection I have with that item. If it was just in my room just to be in my room, it means nothing. If it was something from you guys or Mom and Dad, I most definitely still have it in my room. I will not allow myself to throw something away that holds memories or if I have deep attachments to it.”

“So if I gave you a rock, you’d keep it?” Matt asks with a small smile.

You narrow your eyes at the male. “Well, it’s a rock so no. Maybe if I was like five, maybe I’d keep it.”

“Wait, now I wanna see what all you kept,” Nick says as he sits upright.

“You would be very surprised about how much shit I have in my room.” You say as you lean back in your seat, your arms crossing over your chest.

“Next vlog is gonna be a house raid slash y/n house tour video guys! Look out for it.” Chris states as he points at his camera.

“I think I'm good actually, thanks.” You mumble, your statement earning soft laughs from the three in front of you.

“So I'm guessing that's a no to the house raid?” Nick asks, a single eyebrow raising as he slightly tilts his head to the side.

“Well I'm not saying no to raiding my house or the house tour, I'm saying no to the video. I don’t want people to see my living conditions. Knowing how well your fans find where you guys are at, I wouldn’t doubt that they’d find where I live.” You defend, your voice soft as you point down at the desk in hopes of getting your point across.

“Okay, that’s very reasonable.” Matt agrees as he leans back against the booth, a single arm coming up to rest at the top of it.

“So we can raid your house,” Chris says as the smile on his lips grows.

You let out a soft sigh as you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Yes, you guys can raid my house.” You give in. All the boys cheer loudly at your statement, causing a soft laugh to emit from you. “BUT you need to text me before y'all come over.”

“Deal!” Nick exclaims, his hands clasping together a few times as he claps excitedly.

“Gonna start the prank wars back up the second I step foot inside your house by the way,” Matt says, his statement barely being picked up by the microphone as he leans back a little.

“WHAT?” You ask, your voice coming out louder than intended as you stare wide-eyed at the brunette to your right.

“What’s the next topic, Nick?” Matt asks, trying to switch the topic as he sends the redhead a small smile.

“Matt, repeat what you said right now.” You demand as you reach over to grab the flamingo plush in front of you. “Or the flamingo gets it.”

“Hey!” Nick exclaims, his loud and sudden voice startling you. “Do not touch Fred. Put him down.”

You raise both your hands up in surrender and slowly put the flamingo back down. As you do so, you can hear Matt giggling softly in your headset and you quickly send a glare to the male as you return to your seat.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· TagList ·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

@freshloveforthefit @nickuniversity @patscorner @frankdelreyy @sturnssan @kileybankzz @robins-scoop

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt x reader #nick x reader #chris x reader #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #request

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itsallyscorner · 2 years ago

Text

Coffee Talk | H.S

pairing: boyfriend!Harry x fem!reader

warnings: it’s supposed to be like a podcast episode so it’s a little long and has a lot of dialogue—just did some experimenting, lmk what you guys think :)

overview: Harry is a guest on your podcast.

a/n: Clearly, I’ve been listening/watching a lot of podcasts. I just like hearing people talk. Reader’s co-host, Mable, is inspired by Selena Gomez <3

Coffee Talk Ep. 96: (Y/n)‘s Boyfriend, Hobama, and Marriage

“Hello friends and welcome back to another episode of Coffee Talk! I’m your host, (Y/n), and I hope you are all doing well!” You waved at the camera doing your usual intro.

You did a drumroll with your hands on the table and continued, “Now, we have an exciting episode for you guys today. You have been asking—basically begging—for us to get this person on the pod and it’s finally happening today! So grab a blanket, get some snacks, and get comfortable, because this is gonna be a fun one!”

The video cuts to your co-host, Mable, who is sitting across from you on a loveseat.

“I feel like we should build the tension before we tell them who it is.” Mabel chimes in, stirring her Starbucks cup (whose label has been covered since you guys aren’t sponsored by Starbies).

“That was a really good segue for Roll Call, Mae.” You pointed out, calling her by her nickname.

“I gotchu, babe.” Mable assured you, throwing a wink in your direction. You laughed and adjusted your legs up on the couch you were on, “Right, so obviously, we have Mable across from me. How are ya, Mae? What’s the coffee order today?”

Mable smiled at you and crossed her legs, “Well since you asked so kindly. I’m doing very great this morning (y/n/n) and I have a caramel macchiato today.”

The video then cuts to Ryland who had a “bitch please” look on his face, “Mable’s only happy because she got laid last night.”

“RYLAND!” Mable screamed in shock, the video cutting to her reaction. The room erupted with laughter as she flipped him off and let empty threats stumble out of her lips at Ryland.

“YOU LITERALLY TEXTED IT IN THE GROUP CHAT!” Ryland stressed, leaning over the table to get closer to Mable. The video moved to you taking a long sip of your coffee while a familiar tattooed arm rested behind you on the couch.

“Clearly, the energy is through the roof today in the pod—we’ll probably get to Mable’s sex life in a bit.” You paused, smirking at your friend, “But back to roll call, we’ve got Ryland on cameras and sound. Ryland, how are you pookie?”

Ryland posed at the camera in front of him and waved wildly at it, “I’m doing swell stinkabutt.”

“What’s your coffee order today—actually Ryland doesn’t have coffee today, he has juice.” You explained to your listeners. Ryland held up his green juice, “Yeah, I’m on a juice cleanse everyone. Me and Sean are going to Aruba in a few weeks and I refuse to work out, so I’m drinking juice instead.”

“You look great Ry.” A voice off camera chimed in. The voice had a distinct accent that could only belong to a specific someone. Ryland smiled at the person, “Thanks Ha—wait I was just about to spoil who it was.” He immediately clasped his hand over his mouth with wide eyes.

“Y’know what, we’ve made you guys wait long enough.” You sighed before continuing, “Our guest is very special to me. He’s a recent Grammy winner, one of the biggest artists in the world, and he happens to be my boyfriend; please welcome to the pod mister Harry Styles!” You cheered, causing everyone in the room to clap. The video finally cut to Harry who was sat next you on a blush pink couch nursing a pastel yellow mug.

Harry adorable scrunched his nose and waved at you all bashfully, “Oh, stop it.”

“How does it feel to be on the pod, Harry?” You asked, turning your body towards him. Harry nodded and looked around the room, “I’m happy to be here, love, thanks f’having me. Also, I like what you’ve guys done to our shed, s’very comfy.”

“I totally forgot we were in your shed.” Ryland chuckled.

“Oh yeah, to everyone listening or watching, we’ve been filming this podcast in Harry and (Y/n)’s backyard.” Mable explained to the audience with a chuckle.

“It’s not a problem honestly, I’m glad you guys are getting some use out of it.” Harry assured you all as he glanced at the decorations around the room. There was an old school looking blush couch in the center of the room, which was across from a burnt mustard colored love seat. While the walls were painted a darker shade of matcha green with fairy lights strung along it.

Harry was seen glancing at the rug as he toed at it with his socked foot. “Where’d y’get the rug?” He asked you.

You peeked at said rug, “Your mom picked it out when she was helping me furniture shop here.” Harry’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape as he leaned back into the cushion, one of his legs crossed beneath him and the other hung off the couch.

“So Harold, what’s the coffee order today?” You motioned to his coffee. He proudly held the yellow mug up and smiled at the camera, “I’ve got my usual black coffee, courtesy of my lovely girlfriend.”

The camera panned to you hiding behind your Starbucks cup trying to hide your heated cheeks.

“And what do you have today, love?” Harry returned the question, naturally fitting into the conversation. You looked at the label on your cup, “I have my usual coffee order—H actually went out on a coffee run for me and Mable, so thank you bubs.” You answered, the corners of your mouth quirked up.

“They make me sick.” Ryland fake gagged.

“Aren’t you also in a relationship?” Mable narrowed her eyes at him. Ryland rolled his eyes at her, “Yeah, but they make me sick in a good way, like the wholesomeness is just too much.”

“What the fuck..”

Harry grinned at Ryland, “Y’gonna be fuckin’ puking by the time we’re done then.”

The camera cut to Mable smirking at you, “I find it so weird how you’re being so quiet.”

“Me?” You pointed at yourself amusingly. Harry glanced at you and visibly scooted closer to you. The sound of equipment being moved can be heard over the audio since Harry attempted to discreetly move his mic stand next to yours.

“Yes ma’am.” Mable nodded. You placed your cup on the round coffee table beside you.

“I don’t know why, but it just settled in that this is us, kind of like hard launching our relationship to the public.” You softly answered, hands fiddling with your (Harry’s) loose knitted sweater.

“But everyone knows you guys are together.” Ryland stated, confusion etched on his features. Harry rose his hand to answer. You giggled at him and nudged his arm, “You don’t need to raise your hand to speak, hun.”

“Sorry.” He shook his head.

“Don’t be.” You chuckled, allowing Harry to continue. “Everyone knows, but we haven’t been very public, y’know? We like keeping things between us. Like, this is the most public we’ve ever been.” He gestures to you guys sitting beside each other.

You chimed in jokingly, “Yeah, this is our first time sitting next to each other—like ever.”

Harry nodded along, “I’m shitting m’pants right now.” He stated, causing a few chuckles in the room.

“How much persuasion did it take for (Y/n) to get you on the pod?” Mable asked Harry, sipping her coffee. Harry’s brows furrowed as he stared at the ceiling.

“Not much. She asked and I was like—yeah, I’m down.” He answered, shrugging his shoulders for emphasis. You chuckled at him and added, “He’s forgetting the part when he admitted that he’s been waiting for me to ask him to guest star.”

“Have you really been waiting?” Ryland questioned your boyfriend. Harry’s brows raised as he exclaimed, “Yes! I bloody have! You guys literally had my sister on here before me!”

You all laughed at his slight frustration, “I swear it wasn’t on purpose!” The camera cuts to you and Harry, your hand squeezing his knee.

“Wait so did you guys meet through Harry’s sister?” Mable asked you both, she then was quick to add, “If you guys don’t mind me asking!”

You waved her off to assure her it was fine.

“We met through his stylist Harry Lambert.” You began before pointing to the camera, “Shout out to Lamby by the way!” Harry followed suit and instead waved at the camera with a lopsided grin.

“Anyway, Lamby and I know each other through work. We’re under the same company and we do similar things, etc. One day he invited me to come out to one of H’s shows, I didn’t have anything better to do, so I decided to go.”

“We met before the show though, remember?” Harry gently interjected, using his arm behind you to tap your shoulder. You nodded, “Yeah we did, I was fortunate enough to meet him before he went out on stage and we got on really well—“

You looked at Harry, “We probably spent about five minutes talking, right?”

“Yeh, it was pretty quick. I don’t know if you felt it at first, but like—Y’know that feeling when you kinda just know a person is gonna have some kind of impact on y’life?” Harry wondered aloud, hands waving around to try and get his point across. Mable and Ryland nodded, making sounds of agreement.

“It was like that and I thought about it the entire time I was on stage. After that everything seemed to fall into place and the rest was history.” Harry finished, smacking his hand on his leg. Ryland was the first to speak, “So after the concert did you try to always come up with an excuse to go to his shows or did you try to persuade Harry Lambert to invite (Y/n) more often?” Ryland pointed between the couple in front of him.

You and Harry stared at each other, his brow raised at you while your eyes squinted at his. Harry stuck his pointer finger out, “Well I got her number after, so I didn’t have to make any excuses for her to be at my shows. I’d invite her, she’d come and watch, then we would hang out after. Sometimes when we were in the same place, we would meet up too.”

“I’m assuming this went on for months?” Mable looked between you and Harry.

“Yeah, but the thing is, he was touring and I was working. So we had to be in different places all the time.” You clarified. Harry picked off where you left, “We managed to make it work though, I don’t think either of us were going to give up that easily.”

The video caught you and Harry gazing into each other’s eyes momentarily.

“Absolutely.” You agreed, scrunching your nose at him, similar to what he did earlier. Mable pouted at the two of you, “You guys are so cute.”

Harry quietly thanked her as he situated himself on the couch again. While Mable and Ryland gushed about how much you guys were “goals”, the famous singer got even more comfortable on the couch. He placed his mug down and leaned his body against your side, he softly took your arm and held it against his chest so you were holding him. He leaned the mic lower so it was closer to him and was mindful of where his feet was to avoid bumping his mug on the floor.

“I’m just curious, but what are like the weirdest rumors have you guys heard about yourselves?” Ryland asked, moving the conversation along.

“I don’t have any.” Mable shrugged.

“Maybe that guy last night can share some, should we call him?” You sang, jokingly pulling out your phone. Mable groaned and slapped her forehead with her palm, “I hate the both of you.”

“I’ve heard stuff about us, but I really think this rumor would be more fun to talk about.” You pondered. Harry shifted his head on your chest to look up at you, “Wha’ rumor?”

The corner of your lip turned into a smirk as you simply said, “Hobama.”

Harry suddenly threw his head back and bursted out laughing.

“Like President Obama?” Ryland screamed in shock, his brows raised to his forehead.

“I honestly don’t know how it started. It randomly popped up on the tabloids and followed me around for years—till this day, might I add!” Harry tried to clarify.

“I feel like it got even worse when Graham asked you about it.” You chuckled, fingers mindlessly playing with Harry’s brunette curls.

“What did Graham ask?” Mable leaned towards the couple.

“He asked if it was true that I had a sexual relationship or affair with Obama—I knew they were gonna ask me about it prior to the show being filmed. But at the time I was like fuck it and just went along w’it.” Harry started, “I didn’t know that it would become an actual thing.” He deadpanned, sending a look at the camera.

“Have there been any Hobama signs at any of your recent shows?” Ryland squinted his eyes at Harry.

“Not a one.” Harry paused, “But after this episode airs, I wouldn’t be surprised if I see a couple in the crowds.”

Mable crossed her arms, “Your shows are very interesting—in a good way—of course.”

“Thank you.” Harry grinned, “Yeh, we’ve got a lot of things going on. Every night it’s like a giant sleep over with a bunch of friends. We sing songs, we dance—“

“Trauma dumping!” Ryland interjected excitedly. Harry gestured to the man opposite him, “Right, we do therapy sessions.”

“Don’t forget the gender reveals, proposals, and helping them come out.” You continued to list, Harry nodding his head at every thing you said.

“Harry’s like a Swiss Army knife, he just does everything.” Mable joked. Ryland sighed and rested his chin in his palm, “You’re so talented.”

“You’re better at controlling cameras and all the sound equipment than me.” Harry acknowledged, raising a brow at him. Ryland snapped his finger at the Brit, “You’re so right, thank you, Harry.”

Harry placed his hand on his heart, “I gotcha man.” You then raised your hand, catching Harry’s attention, “Yes, m’love?”

“Can I just say how proud I am of you and like how insanely successful the tour has been?” You sat up, making Harry sit up as well. He remained close to you, wrapping his arm back around your shoulder. Though your statement made him pout at you, “Y’make my heart feel fuzzy.”

Mable and Ryland audibly awed at the both of you.

“No! Like seriously, it makes me so proud to see how much of a safe space your concert is to all you fans and anyone who steps foot into those shows.” You placed your hand on his tattooed arm and gave it a small squeeze. “I don’t think you realize how much of an impact you make on people’s lives, like we all appreciate you so much and I just wanted to remind you of that.” You shrugged, shrinking into your own shoulders.

“C’mere.” Harry said dragging out his words as he pulled you into a hug, this time he held you and your head was tucked into the crook of his neck. Instead of letting you go, Harry helped you get comfortable in his arms.

“While we’re at it, I just wanted to say how much fun I’m having right now. Thank you guys for having me” Harry gestured to Mable and Ryland across from him then turned to you, “And thank you to you for allowing me to be in your workspace and sharing it with me. You’ve always supported me throughout everything and now I finally get to support you and your craft, so thank you for trusting me to be here.”

Now it was your turn to pout, though there was a twinkle in you eye, “Thank you, H.” You hummed as Harry pecked your temple.

“I’m rooting so hard for you guys, you have no idea.” Mable said from her seat, the camera cut to Ryland who agreed.

“Yeh, I guess we like each other a lot.” Harry joked. You smiled softly at him.

“I don’t wanna intrude but is there a possible wedding in the future?” Ryland asked. It was silent between you and Harry, the both of you staring at each other before answering.

“I think so, I have some pretty high hopes.” You answered. Harry made a sound of agreement, “I think when everything calms down we’ll figure it out, but without a doubt it’s definitely in the cards.”

Harry let out a small chuckle and added, “Let me release the fourth album and then I’ll put a ring on it.”

The camera cut to you blushing with wide eyes, clearly taken off guard by your boyfriend’s comment. Mable and Ryland were quick to react, sending you teasing looks and screaming “oooo”.

The corner of Harry’s mouth lifted into a smirk, turning his head to look at you he asked, “How’s that sound?”

You scrunched your nose (adorably, Harry might add) and pretended to put some thought into it.

“Sounds like a plan, but on one condition.”

Harry’s brows raised as he waited for you to continue.

“You have to release Medicine.” You said, Harry caught on to your banter and feigned an annoyed sigh, “Babe, we’ve talked about this.”

“Fine, then can we get a puppy?”

“Of course we can, darling, we’ll have one by tomorrow morning.” Harry jested, sounding incredibly posh.

You turned to the camera apologetically and spoke directly to your boyfriend’s fans, “Sorry guys, I tried.”

Though in reality, you knew that Harry would release Medicine in a heartbeat if you asked him to.

#Harry Styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles headcannon #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry edward styles #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles drabble #Harry Styles

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obsessivestar · 2 months ago

Text

'What If It's All A RomCom?' a Ted Nivison x Reader (Lemon)

{{-This might be the longest fucking chapter I've ever written for anything ever so please enjoy LMAO also gif made by me-}}

//General Warnings: 18+ (MINORS DNI FUCK OFF), Reader is implied to be afab and under 5'5. She/They pronouns used.\\

//Chapter Warnings: More Rainforest Cafe, references to old chapters including smut from chapter 6. Oh also smut here LMAO. Semi-public sex, reader played with, dirty talk, articles of clothing ripped, how many warnings do you want before I give the whole scene away--\\

Word Count: 7.4k fuck

☆▪︎▪︎▪︎Taglist!▪︎▪︎▪︎☆

@k-k0129 , @callsign-scully , @limecorpse & @hyper-fixation-nation-13

☆Love Ya To Death!☆

Chapter 18: A Left Turn

We spend a lot of time inside the Rainforest Cafe, mostly because it took quite a bit of time to be served. We got our drinks fairly quickly, but Dan and Joe were having a hard time deciding what to have to eat so our server left us for a little while. Thankfully, a majority of all the talking was distracting us from how hungry we were. We talked about literally everything that we've accomplished together both as a film crew and a friend group. We talked about how we all kinda freaked out during that first day when Conner couldn't make it, and how relieved everyone was when Ted took his place. Joe talked a bit about where he got the inspiration for Kara and Mason's wardrobe, our characters, and Dan once again apologized for almost hitting me with that football that Tanner made him throw at Ted and I. Good times.

Speaking of Ted and I, that topic came up shortly after due to Dan's genuine curiosity.

"I just don't understand how this happened." Dan admitted with an innocent little smile, holding his hands out in front of him as he speaks. "Like, you guys weren't already together when I threw the football?"

"No, it happened like 3 days later." Ted admitted with a casual shrug, relaxing a bit against the back of the booth. He was right, but I was surprised to hear him admit it to everyone.

"What happened, though?" Dan asked with a bit more emphasis, placing both of his hands on the table. It's a weird question to be asked but I can tell that Dan means well. He isn't necessarily trying to pry into our business, he's just...very young and innocent at heart despite being one of the older members of the friend group. Ted turns his head to look at me, giving me a smug little smirk with an eyebrow raised, as if to signal me to answer.

"What?" I look up at him with my own brows furrowed a little, a slight chuckle slipping out. "Do you want to talk about it? Here?"

"Why not?" Ted replied with a simple little shrug. "My friends already know a bit of it, yours could as well.."

"Wait, really?" I'm a little surprised to hear that. "Who? Which friends?"

"Tucker and Schlatt--well, Schlatt doesn't know what we did, but Tucker does."

"Tucker knows?"

"Yeah."

"Everything?"

"About that night, yeah. Mostly everything."

"Mostly?"

"Well I didn't go into excruciating detail or anything, but yeah, mostly."

"When did you tell him?"

"I had texted him before you woke up that morning."

"You texted him while I was next to you?"

"Yeah."

"So he knew before I was on the podcast?"

"Yeah, he did."

"...huh."

"Why are you surprised?" Ted chuckled a little, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "How fast did you go to Joe about us again?"

"I'm--Okay, that's a fair point, actually.." I playfully roll my eyes and nod a little. After a decent little pause, Ted turns back to look at Dan.

"Anyways, we had sex."

Most of us started laughing at that response, with Dan letting out a genuine, but almost exaggerated "What!?" in between laughs. Him being so shocked is honestly valid, especially after that tangent between Ted and I.

"3 days later? Jesus, man!" Dan chuckles, gently smacking his hands down on the table. "No patience!"

"What day was that again?" Tanner asks with a confused little smile, looking over everyone's expressions.

"The day we had to go out and replace my wardrobe.." I admit in a slightly softer voice, sort of hugging myself in my seat.

"It was when you passed out in my bed." Ted added, pointing over at Tanner. "The first time we were up late editing?"

"Oh yeah.." Tanner glanced down a little, nodding slowly before looking up at Ted again. "And my door was locked, right?"

"Yeah, no idea why." Ted admitted with a shrug. "I couldn't turn the knob and I didn't really want to wake everyone to the sound of me breaking down your door, so I just knocked on theirs. Knew they were awake."

Huh. So Tanner really was taking up Ted's bed the first night. What an odd way for the world to put Ted and I together. "I genuinely thought it was a fuckin' story." I speak up after taking a sip from my drink. "I thought it was a whole-ass excuse just to get me alone."

"Hey, I know you like to think I'm some hot-shot lady wranglin' casanova over here.." Ted snickers slightly, turning his body a little to address me. "But despite what you think, I didn't intend to sleep with you that night."

"It kinda sounds like you did." Tanner admitted with his head tilted, resting his elbows on the table. I could tell that everyone was invested in this whole thing, Joe included, despite him already knowing everything. Mostly everything.

"I didn't! It wasn't--alright--" Ted's tone became defensive as he held his hands up in mock surrender, letting out a chuckle. "Alright, alright, listen: Was I kinda thinkin' about it? A little, maybe. Sure, but I wasn't plannin' on tryin' anything; not that night anyways."

"So how did it happen?" Joe asks with a knowing smirk, his body turned towards the both of us to give us his full attention. Joseph, you fuck, you already know.

"Because (Y/N)'s kinda a little whore, if I'm bein' honest." Ted admits without an ounce of hesitation, using his usual exaggerated tone.

"YO!" I laugh out and turn to smack his arm, hearing a quiet 'ah' escape him as I laugh. "I am NOT! You jumped me!"

"I didn't jump you! You were--"

"You cornered me by my window and my bed!"

"You wanted to kiss me!"

"I had no where to go!"

"You were givin' me the goo-goo eyes! The bedroom eyes!"

"I glanced at your lips ONCE, Ted!"

"And what does that mean, princess? Hmm? What does looking at the lips mean?"

"It's a fucking--"

"What does looking at the lips mean?"

"Ted--"

"Do you remember? Do you remember what it means?"

"Shut the fuck up!" I laugh.

"You used the tell for the film?" Tanner chimes in with a soft laugh, furrowing his brows in disbelief. "That's what did it?"

"Absolutely she did!" Ted points at Tanner with pure confidence in his expressive voice. "She looked, I made her admit it, then it happened."

"And now the whole fucking cafe knows." I lower my voice a bit with a playful eye roll, shaking my head at Ted. "You're being loud as fuck, you know that?"

"Oh come on, babe. Doesn't it feel kinda good to tell everyone?" Ted grinned back at me, getting yet another little eye roll from me. "Isn't it kinda funny?"

"....In a sense.."

The conversation was cut short when our server returned to take our food order. Dan and Joe had finally decided on what they wanted, so we could all finally order our food and wait for it to arrive. It was hard to believe that we'll all be separating in the next 9 or so days. Some of us will be flying back home, some of us will make a long road trip out of it and Ted will simply be just getting on the highway for, like, a 45 minute drive at best. It's odd. He'll have the smallest distance to travel, but he'll feel so far away...

I try to keep my thoughts focused on the group and their loud banter, watching with a smile on my face as Joe and Tanner rock back and forth in a laughing fit. Joe put his head in his hands and Tanner leaned his head back with his hand on his chest. I've clearly missed something. "What? What did you say?" I ask with a confused little smile, tilting my head at Joe as he leaned against my shoulder.

"We were talking about the--oh god.." Joe almost couldn't answer my question, wiping under his eyes as he chuckled. "Tanner, fuck man, oh my god.."

"I still have to show it to you guys, but we're talking about something we caught while editing last weekend." Tanner was able to catch his breath enough to start explaining it, an occasional laugh slipping out. "Y'know how we had to reshoot some scenes outside the other day?"

"Yeah, that's why Ted had to shave." I reply with a small smile, glancing over at Ted.

"She's still very upset about that." Ted adds in a joking tone, giving me a little point.

"Well--Okay, first of all, rude to just air that out." I let out a little laugh, turning my body more to look at Ted. "I was not upset, I was just...wanting you to grow it out a bit.."

"I am, half of it is already back." Ted rubs his slightly stubbled cheeks with his hands, shrugging a little. "It grows in fast, princess."

"Have you ever thought about growing a mustache?" Dan chimes in, resting both of his arms on the table.

"Ooh, y'know what..." Ted narrows his eyes with a smirk, leaning back a bit with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Man, he has nice arms... "I haven't grown in my mustache in a long time...maybe I will.."

"It'll look schnazzy for the premiere." Tanner gives him a gesture of approval before adjusting himself in his chair. We gotta stop going off on tangents like that.

"Anyways, what we were laughing about was something Joe and I caught while we were editing last weekend. There was a part of the file that got corrupted and it created this weird mix match of scenes that made it look straight out of a YouTube poop."

"The files mixed? Mixed how?" I repeated, tilting my head a little again. "Like, into 2 scenes?"

"Yeah, it mixed one of the outdoor shots with Ted pushing you into the pool." Tanner explained, beginning to laugh a little as he recalls the scene for us. "And--and so the camera pans--it pans, cuts to you two, you get pushed into the pool and it froze on the exact frame you go under the water. When it froze, the audio still plays and it's the loudest fucking, like...crashing into water sound I've ever heard. It was so fucking funny."

"Here, I recorded it on my phone." Joe takes his phone out of his pocket and opens the video, handing his phone to me so Ted and I could watch it. It was almost exactly how Tanner had described it, but it looked like it was some video game glitch. When I hit the water, the file was so corrupted, it looked like water was continuously coming out of the pool with my body vibrating inside it. The sound was LOUD, too, making Ted and I erupt into unexpected laughter.

"Jesus christ!" Ted laughs out, smacking his thigh a bit as he leaned back. "How the fuck did that happen!?"

"I honestly have no idea!" Tanner chuckled, shrugging his arms out a bit. "It was fine inside the camera! Sending it to my PC just did that!"

"Can you send that to me?" I ask Joe in between little laughs, placing a hand over my own chest.

"Yes, absolutely. It's so fucking funny.." Joe chuckled, carefully taking his phone back from me so he could send me the video. I needed to put that on my Instagram story or something. I'd have to do it later though. Maybe we'd been here longer than we thought, or maybe we were being so rowdy that it caught the staff's attention, but we finally got all of our food shortly after Joe sent me the video, so we were all finally able to calm down a bit and enjoy our meals, glancing up from our plates when another rainstorm occurred. That's still a little jarring, in a good way.

Honestly, the food wasn't too bad. The safari fries were a lot better than I thought they'd be and I thoroughly enjoyed what I had ordered. Everyone else seemed pretty satisfied too. I would've finished everything on my plate if it weren't for Ted, who had ordered a bit more than the rest of us. He wanted all of us to try a little bit of the nachos so we all sort of had a free appetizer with our meals. Honestly, Ted was the most eager out of all of us to come here but we were all having a blast. I couldn't stop smiling the whole time, even after another two or so Rainforest thunderstorms. I could tell that Ted was enjoying himself just as much, if not more. I kept catching him looking at me with a big dumb smile no matter what I was doing, whether I was turned away to talk to Joe or straight up stuffing way too many nachos into my mouth, he looked infatuated with me. It was really nice, in a strange way.

Once we were all done our food, Ted called for our bill. At first, he tried to pay for the entire meal, but most of us strongly disagreed with that idea. I stayed relatively quiet while everyone argued about paying for their own meals. I mean, I'd happily pay for my own meal if I had to, I'd feel bad about making Ted pay for it...at the same time, free dinner sounds pretty good and I oddly like the idea of Ted spoiling me even a little bit. The argument was settled when Tanner brought up the fact that he still had money on the credit card the school had given him for the film. Yes, the "emergency" credit card. Dan brought up the fact that Tanner seemingly wanted to use it for what was clearly not an emergency, Tanner just shrugged and said "We can't decide who's paying, sounds like an emergency to me." And we ultimately all agreed to use it, because making his school pay for our Rainforest Café dinner is just really funny.

After we've paid our bill, we make a quick trip to the gift shop to buy matching shirts, very similar to the one Ted had brought, and take a few group photos inside and outside of the joint before finally separating back to our vehicles. Joe, Dan and Tanner returned to their ride and Ted and I moved back to his Toyota Tacoma. Just as I had hopped into the passenger seat, I watched Ted do a quick little jog over to the guys and tell them something, though even with the windows rolled down I can't make out any of it. Huh.

Ted quickly steps back over and gets into the driver's seat, a small smirk on his face as he starts his truck up.

"What did you tell them?.." I ask with a curious smile, but I don't get an immediate answer. Ted takes his time carefully getting out of the parking lot, the smirk staying on his face. I furrow my eyebrows a little at him and just sort of...watch. His silence is making me a little anxious.

"Hang on, I'll tell you when we're on the road.." Ted speaks as he stops to let another car pass. He's being strangely...inconspicuous about this, which means he's up to something. I see Dan's van drive out of the parking lot and make a right turn to head down the main street, but when Ted gets to that same exit after a bit of navigating, he turns left. I furrow my brows again and turn to look at him. He's still smirking.

"You feelin' alright?" Ted speaks up again once he's on the main road, keeping his eyes front with his smug little smirk still along his blush-toned lips. "Not feelin'...stuffed at all?"

"Stuffed? I mean..." I'm getting more confused by the second, sitting up more in my seat. "I'm full, but I'm not sore or anything. Why?"

"Just checkin'.." Ted glances at me briefly, staying straight on the road. I don't know this area very well, but I know that our set isn't in this direction. "I told the others I'd take ya sight seeing for a bit."

"Sight seeing?" I repeat and briefly turn away, my eyes focusing down in my lap for a moment. "What are we seeing? Where are we--"

It hits me.

Oh.

I remember.

"That...kinda depends on whether or not I'm makin' another left at these lights up here.." Ted slips his hand off the wheel slightly to point out towards the lights we were approaching. It seemed like turning left would lead into some sort of middle class neighborhood, while turning right would likely bring us back to the path home.

"Y-You're making me decide this now?" I'm immediately flustered, turning to look at him with a nervous pout. "How long did you say we'd be gone?"

"Didn't specify, but we don't have to be gone long.." Ted gave a slight shrug, easing up a bit when the light began to turn red. "Doesn't always have to last 20 or so minutes. Am I turnin' left?"

I try to get something, anything out quickly but I just stammer over my own voice and let out a nervous chuckle. I can't tell if he's bluffing, thought at this rate I doubt he ever is. He mentioned knowing a few spots before we got to the restaurant, but I thought it was a fucking joke. It's very quickly not becoming a joke...and it's very quickly becoming very, very tempting.

"I won't be upset if it's a no, but you got about 15 seconds to answer me. Give or take." Ted speaks up again to get my attention, glancing at me briefly. "Am I turnin' left?"

"Do you actually have a spot in that direction?" I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me. I want to have at least some idea of where we're going. I certainly don't need to know what we'll be doing. I already know.

"Yes." Ted answers simply, slowing down ever so slightly. "I know a few, this is the closest."

"But that's through a suburb."

"Yeah, I know."

"The spots near those houses?"

"A house, kind of."

"Have you ever used it?"

"Not that one, no."

"Have you ever been caught?"

"Not in L.A."

"Isn't there a chance we could get caught there, especially if you've never used it?"

"No, not with what I know. Am I turnin' left, or...?"

Christ, I can't believe I'm doing this. "...turn."

I see Ted's smirk grow into a mischievous smile as he carefully switches lanes so he can turn left at the red light, bringing us into a neighborhood I didn't recognize. A devilish little chuckle leaves Ted and he shakes his head. It's like he also can't believe what I had just agreed to, and he's the one who made the damn offer in the first place.

"Don't laugh at me.." I playfully glare at him, anxiously crossing my arms in front of my chest. "This was your idea.."

"Yeah, and it's fucking awesome that you're into it." Ted replied with a cocky little grin, removing one of his hands from the steering wheel to rest it in his lap. I turn away for a moment just to glance out the window, noticing very quickly that there wasn't a single other car on this street. Even most of the driveways were empty. Maybe a majority of the people in this neighborhood work nights and closing shifts. Ted must've known that, though how he came across this area was a whole other story.

"Hey." Ted gets my attention by placing his free hand on my thighs, glancing at me with that confident, charming little grin. "Got a question for ya, princess.."

I can already feel my cheeks heating up and my stomach bubbling up with anxiety, turning my head to look at him. I was trying to appear as calm as possible. "Yeah?.." I respond simply, keeping my tone soft just in case I became shaky. His hand feels so warm on me...

"...Didya ever...think about me?.." Ted lowers his tone a little, occasionally glancing at me as he drove down the empty street. "Y'know, before anythin' happened? Did ya...think about how it'd go? How it'd feel?"

I find myself rolling my eyes and looking out my window again, letting out a shaky sigh. There's no way I'm gonna be able to answer that while looking at him. "Yeah..." I'm able to speak up enough so he can hear me clearly, but my tone is otherwise quiet and shy. "It...pretty much went exactly how I'd pictured it. You on top...a leg over your shoulder..."

"Oh yeah?" Ted speaks with a little purr, giving my thigh a small squeeze. I feel his thumb begin to slowly caress my inner thighs, his tongue gliding along the ends of his top teeth. "Ya like me on top?.."

I roll my eyes again. It's instinctual. It's like I'm annoyed with myself for enjoying his suggestive questioning. I look forward to see Ted go through a roundabout, heading down a new street that seemingly lead to no where. "I like...losing control. Giving it.." I admit after a little pause, slowly moving my tongue along my lower lip to wet it a bit. "You're just so...right for me in that way, I never have to worry about...telling you to slow down or curve up or anything, you just know. You just do it, and it's been good...every single time."

Even thinking about it now was making that familiar tingly warmth appear between my legs, lightly dragging my teeth along my lower lip. Sometimes, if I really think hard about it, I can still feel the anticipation of him pushing into me for the first time, how well I shape around him...

I can see that Ted is happy with my honest answer. A pleased little hum leaves him and he squeezes my thigh again. He keeps doing that and I'm gonna make him pull over...

"I know I haven't left you alone since that night, but..." Ted pauses to choose his words carefully, glancing at me again. "You ever...touch yourself to me, princess?.." Just as he ends his question, he slowly slides his hand more up my thigh, his thumb inching closer to my clothed core. Even through my clothes, I can feel his warm touch, I can feel myself aching for him, desiring him all over again.

"I've....never had the time.." I admit with a breathless little chuckle, trying not to tense up against my seat too much. "But...I've thought about it.."

"You've thought about it, huh?.." Ted begins to slow down a little, giving me another quick glance with his suggestive grin. "Ya wanna try it?.."

Gods, how does this man do that with just his voice?...

"Try it?" I turn to look at him fully, raising a curious brow. I'm trying real hard to hide how much he's getting to me. "Try it how? In here? In--In front of you?"

Ted, once again, chooses not to answer me right away. His suggestive grin grows and another low little chuckle escapes him. "...You'll see. You'll like it..."

Ted continues to drive until he's at the very end of the street with some large looking home to our left and a small little forest to our right. There isn't a single car in the driveway and it looks like all of the lights are on. The truck tilts and bobs ever so slightly as Ted pulls into the dirt path leading into the small forest, removing his hand from my thigh to steady the truck with both hands. Where the fuck are we? And how did he discover this place? Ted glances around a bit before parking and completely turning off his vehicle, letting out a little sigh. He removes his seatbelt, letting it slip behind him before turning to me with a smirk.

"Backseat, princess." He gestures back with a thumb. Oh god, okay, this is happening. Why am I even surprised? It's Ted, with me. He's obsessed...and honestly, so am I.

I quickly remove my seatbelt and move around to crawl into the back seat, grunting as I attempt to get through this awkward crawling bit as fast as I can. I realize that I've never seen his backseat so...cleared before. I don't think I've ever seen anyone's backseat so cleared. Did he plan this?

As I'm getting comfortable, Ted immediately moves towards me to crawl overtop of me, pinning me down on my back with his body. I'm honestly surprised he can even fit back here with how tall he is, but he seems relatively comfortable. He grabs my face and pulls me into a deep, sultry kiss, letting out a muffled groan against my lips. With how short these seats are, one of my legs are hanging over the side of the seat, my lap already completely spread for him. I'm able to loosely wrap my arms around his neck, already feeling him slip his tongue into my mouth for more of me. A small moan escapes me, which immediately turns into a more surprised moan when I feel his tented shorts press against me. He's trapped me beneath him, I couldn't go anywhere even if I wanted to. I can already feel my own excitement growing at that realization.

Ted kisses me roughly a bit more before pulling away to begin trailing hot kisses down my neck. As he pulls back a bit to say something, his glasses slip off his face and bop me on the bridge of my nose, making both of us let out a little laugh.

"Fuck, sorry--" Ted chuckles lowly, carefully snatching his glasses before they'd fall, tossing them onto the side surface in between the front seats.

"You're...so impatient.." I let out a soft purr, leaning my head back a little when he continued to trail his kisses along my neck.

"I know, I'm not doin' well at all.." Ted snickers a bit against my nail, nipping a bit along my jaw. "Soon as you agreed to it, I just...fuck, (Y/N).."

Ted knows we need to be semi quick, so as his hand moves down my body, he completely ignores my shirt and heads straight for my pants. He slips his hand in between my opened legs to touch my clothed core, my thighs flinching as a shaky moan leaves me. "Theo.." I tilt my head to moan into his ear, feeling the tips of his fingers press into the loose fabric of my pants. I know. I know he can feel how wet I already am, and it's all his fault. I don't know if it's normal for a man to make me such a mess so quickly, but he does it to me. Oh, he does it to me so easily...

"I know, baby. I know.." Ted moves up ever so slightly to whisper into my ear, moving his hand up to slink under the waistband of my pants, pushing my panties aside to slip his fingers between my folds. "I've got you, I've got you.."

A sharp gasp leaves me at his warm hand against me, glancing down to see his hand down my pants, wanting the pretty sight burned into my memory. I'm already soaked against his fingers, my panties are probably already a mess. My arousal only grows when I feel him push two fingers into me, making me lean my head back and moan out for him. I feel his fingers curl up inside me, massaging that perfect little spot from the inside.

"Oh you're drenched.." Ted purrs into my ear with a low little snicker, beginning to pump his fingers inside me with the small amount of room he had. "Did you get horny at the thought of me fuckin' you in my car? You're bad, princess. You're...fucking perfect.."

My pants have never felt so restrictive in my entire fucking life until now. I close my eyes as his fingers work me inside, pressing my foot against the back door with a groan.

"T-Take my pants off.." I beg with a slight growl in my throat, a shiver running through my body as Ted trails his tongue along the side of my neck, knowing he's doing it just to tease me.

"Hands are kinda busy, princess.." Ted purred against my neck with another low snicker, rebalancing himself overtop of me by moving his free hand against the backs of the seats. I groan in response, giving his wrist in my pants a quick smack so he'd remove it. I grunt quietly as he slipped his fingers out of me completely, listening to his dark chuckles as I push my own pants down my legs, wiggling my hips to slip them down to my ankles.

"These too, princess.." Ted shifts slightly to look at me, pressing his two fingers against me through my panties. A quiet gasp escaping me in response.

"Y-You do it.." I huffed, giving him a needy glare. I know Ted wants us to be quick, which of course means I need to start misbehaving, to test his patience. I see his eyes sparkle a bit with a surprised smile spreading along his blush-toned lips, raising a brow at me.

"Oh you really don't want to test me right now, babe.." Ted purred down at me, giving me a small shake of his head. "You're wearing lace. Y'know how easy that is to rip open? You wanna find out?"

"You think you're gonna rip them?" I ask with a quiet, mocking little chuckle.

"I will rip them." Ted insisted with a slight nod. "That's not a concern, that's a promise."

"Oh is that so?"

"Absolutely. Wanna test me right now? On the way back, you'll be sitting with nothing to cover how much I've stuffed your sensitive little cunt.."

"Bet."

Ted's eyes flared up at my response, like I just snapped a twig while he's on the hunt. He sits up a bit more so he can use both of his hands to grab the front of my panties, ripping them open like they were nothing.

"Ted! You--" I gasp out, the rest of my words muffled by the feeling of his fingers pushing into my mouth, making me taste myself.

"Shut up, I fucking warned you." Ted scoffs down at me, removing his fingers from my mouth so he could return them to my core, spreading my essence and saliva over my sensitive bud. He uses his free hand to lift my shirt up just so I feel even more exposed, leaning back over me to return to my neck. He uses his two fingers to make slow little circles around my sensitive clit, my exposed, spread thighs shivering in response.

"Oh my g-god, Teddy...that's..." I moan softly for him, leaning my head back once more. I don't even have the energy to think about my torn panties anymore, his touch is so sensual and pleasent, it feels really good.

"Yeah, there you go..." Ted whispered into my ear with another low snicker, changing the pace of his fingers to begin flicking them back and forth against my clit, pressing a kiss to the side of my neck. "Relax, baby. Relax beneath me.."

I let a few shaky moans escape me, closing my eyes to focus on all of the touches and noises around me. I can feel Ted's hot breath against my neck, his fingers working my sensitive bud in alternating paces. I can hear the way his fingers rub against me, occasionally dipping into my entrance for more of my essence, spreading it over my sensitive clit, my arousal making my breathing quicken and become uneven. I began to let my thoughts wander, recalling our first night in bits and pieces. I thought about how it felt to kiss him in my room with true passion and desire, how it felt to have him in my bed...

"You're thinkin' about it, aren't you? Bout that night?.." Ted purrs into my ear, flicking his fingers against my clit a little faster, letting the tip of his tongue curl along my ear. "Y'know how often I think of that? Of every night I've had you beneath me?.."

My mouth is open to let my sweet sounding moans slip out, though words refuse to form. I give him a shaky little nod instead, angling my hips up ever so slightly as if to grind against his fingers.

"I think about how well you responded to everything I did to you.." Ted whispers to me, alternating between circling and flicking his fingers along my sensitive bud. "I think about how we didn't need to say a word...how we knew exactly where to touch each other, where to feel, where to taste. Oh baby, and you taste so good..."

I close my eyes and allow myself to fully focus on his words and his touch, unable to balance my heavy breathing. An occasional little moan escaped me, urging him to keep going.

"I'll never have to touch myself again with you so eager, mm?.." Ted continues to whisper sweet nothings into my ear, occasionally moving to nip or suck on little spots along my jaw or neck. "You'll just do anything for my touch, won't you? You were made for me, princess. Made for me to play with. Look at you, look at how pretty your pussy is to play with.."

I can't help myself. With him, I must do as I'm told. I can feel the arousal in my body increasing, my core becoming warmer and more sensitive. I feel him adjust so I can look down at myself, watching as his fingers dip into my core to get more of my essence along his fingers, bringing them back up to continue to play with me, the pace of his fingers flicking across my clit only becoming faster and faster.

"Pretty little thing, mm?..." Ted glances down at his hand, a low, mocking chuckle leaving him as he watches my chest rise and fall with my quick, desperate breaths. "God, you're so fun to play with, baby. Pretty little pussy's all mine, isn't it? Can you say that, baby? Can you say that before you cum?..."

Everything is starting to feel more and more intense, I don't know if I'll even be able to get a word out before I finish. I let out a needy moan and lean my head back again, closing my eyes once more. "P-Pretty--pretty..." I manage to mutter out in between quick breaths, pouting my lips out with a desperate little whine. "T-Teddy, I'm--"

"Don't cum, princess. Don't cum just yet.." Ted teases me with a low snicker, yet his quickens his pace against my clit. "Tell me, tell me it's pretty. No no no, don't.."

"I-I am!--I'm!--"

Unfortunately, him urging me to hold it in while his fingers increased their pace was the exact thing that triggered my first climax. I shut my eyes and moan out for him, my body shivering and shaking as my orgasm intensifies through my whole body, rising up my chest and into my head. His fingers continued to move relentlessly against my sensitive clit as my head gets all fuzzy, my eyes rolling back as the last of my climax shivers up my spine. That was a completely different kind of release, at least compared to when he goes down on me, but it was...exhilarating. It felt amazing. He knows my body so well. I have a sneaking suspicion that he intended for me to finish then and there, despite telling me to wait

My hazy thoughts are interrupted by Ted snickering lowly at me, spreading his fingers over my core. "You bad girl.." He purrs to me, bringing his hand up to lightly clasp around my throat, keeping me down against the seat. "Thought I told you to wait. Pathetic..."

I open my eyes to meet his heated gaze, my lips parted as I tried to catch my breath. Ted was right, I liked that. I really liked that. Having him play with me was incredible. Now I'm the impatient one. "T-Too bad, I guess.." I manage to speak out with a shaky chuckle, letting my tongue smooth along my upper lip. "Now, you gonna keep everyone waiting or are you gonna fuck this pretty pussy?.."

I see Ted's eyes once again flare up with desire and arousal, hearing him let out another dark, yet shakier chuckle. That's exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Oh, I'm fallin' hard for you, you little bitch.."

Ted leans down to catch my lips in another deep, passionate kiss, using his free hand to begin working at the button and zipper of his shorts. I groan impatiently in the deep kiss, kissing him back with my own hands going down to his shorts to help him pull them down, helping him slip his boxers briefs down as well. Once he's fully exposed, I feel his right hand move up to smack onto his back window while the other let's go of my throat to align himself with my entrance, wasting no more time as he pushes deep into me. By now, he feels perfect slipping into me, every single god damn time. Something is missing if his cock isn't nestled inside of me. I'm shaped for him and him only and he knows it. He better know it.

He moves his hand up to press against the back door behind my head, bucking his hips up as roughly as he can against me. I can already feel how much he's been aching for me, his throbbing shaft massaging my inner walls warmly. Pleasure begins to surge throughout my entire body with every smack of his hips, a loud, needy moan slipping out of me everytime our skin connects. I lean my head back and let him hear the desperation in my sweet moans, smirking a little to myself when I can feel the truck rocking with his thrusts.

"Oh. God. Every. Time. Every. Single. Fucking. Time.." Ted growls, a single word leaving him with every thrust of his hips. "So. Fucking. Good. So tight, so--wet--FFFFUCK." He nuzzles his face into my neck, putting more force in with every single buck while his lips once again find my neck. His pelvis rubs up against me everytime our hips meet, I'm already getting lost in the pleasure he's rushing through my body, feeling his heavy pants against my skin.

"Oh god, Teddy! Teddy it's good!" I whimper for him, wrapping my arms around him to cling to him as best as I can, gripping onto his shirt to keep him close. "It's good, it's good! It's so good! So good!"

"I know, baby, I know--ugh, I'm gonna--" Ted growls into my ear, his hand moving from the window to slightly change the angle of our bodies, making my head nestle more into the corner of the backseat. "--gonna tilt this whole truck over fucking you like that, hold on.--" He puts us at a more diagonal angle with one knee on the seat with his other on the floorboard to keep himself steady, pulling my hips in closer. "There. Better..."

This new position gave him the room that he needed, able to tug me in with his rough thrusts over and over and over. The truck was definitely still rocking back and forth with us, arguably a lot more with how much harder he was fucking me, but neither of us cared now.

Ted quieted his own low moans and growls so he could focus on my own needy sounding voice, my head completely leaned back as I whimpered and whined for more, unable to form a coherent word or sentence that didn't include 'It's' 'so' and 'good'. It was all I could say, all I could feel. It was so good. It was so fucking good, everytime with this man is so fucking good. The intensity of it all was becoming too much. Here I am, in the backseat of his truck, getting railed like there's no tomorrow and no one has any idea where we've gone or what we're doing. It's exciting, it's exhilarating and I want to do more of it with him. I want to do everything with him.

"Ted! Teddy! I'm--It's--I-I'm cumming!" I cry out for him, finally able to get some words out when I begin to hit my peak a second time. I can feel his length throbbing inside of my tightened walls, my release building up more and more until it was nearly about to burst. Ted moved in to press his body down against me and latched onto my neck once again, panting and moaning sweetly into my neck as he bucked his hips against me like a needy animal reacting to heat. His pelvis continued to rub against my sensitive bud while the tip of his length massaged me from the inside and I'm able to release for a second time, crying out because of him; crying out for him. I can't control my volume even if I tried. I close my eyes just as I feel his hot seed push into my core, hearing his hand smack his back window as his body lightly convulsing against me, comfortably emptying into me. All of the pleasure centers around my aching core and rushes up my entire body and rumbles into my head, leaving me with a satisfying, light-headed haze, even as he gently pulls out of me.

Just as this pleasant high begins to fade, I feel Ted pull back from my neck with a weak moan, relaxing against my body to catch his breath, the truck's rocking still persisting ever so slightly. I lightly wrap my arms around him, one of my hands moving up to run my fingers through his tall dark hair. A part of my neck feels warm and damp and it's a little difficult to catch my breath with most of Ted's weight on me, but I'm completely satisfied. Maybe I'll keep this little adventure with Ted to ourselves. Joe doesn't need to know everything.

"You're incredible..." Ted whispers into my chest, letting out a shaky chuckle as he lifts himself off of me a bit, his dark orbs sparkling down at me. "You're fucking incredible, you're...everything.."

I meet his gaze with my own weak little chuckle, lightly biting the corner of my lower lip. I can feel the high of sex with Ted mixing with my infatuation for Ted. "E-Everything?..." I manage to repeat after a deep breath, giving him a little smile. "I'm...I'm everything except properly clothed, Theo.."

"Oh yeah, right...right..." Ted replies with another breathless laugh, glancing down at my bare legs. Fuck. This motherfucker really ripped my god damn underwear. "I...did that."

"I can't believe you did that.." I lean my head back for a moment and shake my head, my smile spreading into a satisfied grin. "You son of a bitch.."

"Hey, I did warn you. I tried to warn you." Ted insisted with a playful grin, shifting a bit to give me more room to move. "I just--ooh...uh...uh oh..."

"Uh oh?" I lift my head to look at him with my eyebrows slightly furrowed. "What uh oh?"

Ted, once again, doesn't answer me right away. He's looking down at me, but he's not looking at my face. What's he looking at? My chest? My chin? My neck?

Ted brings his hand to my chin to lift my head slightly, squinting his eyes and leaning in a bit, like he's focusing on something. I'm starting to get a little anxious. "What? What do you see?" I ask again with a frown, clearly getting more nervous by the second.

"Uhh..." Ted let's out his own nervous little chuckle.

"I...think that's a hickey..."

...Fuck.

"...A big one.."

Oh fuck.

__________________________________

*All Chapters, uploaded and not, will now be listed and linked at the bottom here ♡

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 (smut) || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 (smut) || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 (smut) || Chapter 15 || Chapter 16 || Chapter 17 || Chapter 18 (smut) (here) || Chapter 19 || Chapter 20 || Chapter 21 || Chapter 22 || Chapter 23 || Chapter 24 || Chapter 25 (final) ||

#ted nivison #chuckle sandwhich #jschlatt #ted nivison x reader #ted nivison x you #ted nivison fanfic #ted nivison smut #allaromcom

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curioscurio · 3 months ago

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Markiplier Werewolf Adventure Part 3

You manage to shove your shirt over your head just in time to hide your identity from the crowd of rabid accordion enthusiasts. No one can know that your transform into Markiplier once a month; ESPECIALLY not all these souls who only came to see the unexpected savant they call The Accordion Wizard. You realize that the shirt mask actually helped muffle the wall of screaming adorations a little, and decide that this was obviously the best choice. Finally, you can shred on your expandable keyboard thing like you’ve never shredded before. Accord like no one else before.

Around halfway through the concert, you pass out due to lack of oxygen from the cotton shirt obstructing your air-thirsty mouth hole.

You groggily wake up to the sight of a relieved looking stage medic, and known accordion enthusiast and tri-co-host of hit Spotify podcast Distractible, Wade Lordminion777. The world is still spinning, but you know that you’re fucked. Wade is one of Markipliers closest friends.

One of Marks most trusted advisors has now seen your dark secret, and will surely hand you over to the authorities for identity fraud. You have definitely committed identity fraud a good amount of times over the past few months.

“Mark!” Wade cries out in relief. “You’re okay!”

You nod, still too stunned to speak, and wonder how on earth this man got backstage.

“What are you doing here?” You gasp out. The medic is asking for your autograph, but you shove him away and tell him you saw some clarinet players doing ecstasy and chewing eucalyptus leaves over by the lemonade tent.

“What do you mean, Mark? You’re the one who gave me the tickets to this concert… Are you sure you’re not having a stroke? Eleven straight hours of nonstop accordion playing may be unhealthy for your delicate body.” Wade asks.

Everything comes rushing back to you. You didn’t just play for half an hour and then pass out. You played for three hours, took some ecstasy, chewed on some eucalyptus leaves, had some kind of reaction, smoked from 3 different bongs that all felt like something other than weed, and proceeded to play accordion for another 8 hours.

In the back of your stupid head, you feel an inappropriate sense of pride over the fact that you managed to keep your face covered the entire time. What a great fucking night you had.

But Wade is still here. He must have been a true fan of the anonymous Accordion Wizard to have stayed this long by your side.

“Why didn’t you tell me that YOU were The Wizard? We could have turned this into a sponsored event.” Wade asks with a pout.

“Funny story…” You begin to think of something really clever to get you out of the situation, but the voice that just left your mouth wasn’t the sultry, low-frequency baritone of one Mark Fishbach. That was your original voice.

The pain hits again, this time beginning from your abused thrussy as it begins to rearrange every atom in your body. You try to scramble away, pathetically cover your gurgling skin with your tattered shirt, but it’s useless. You have to run. You can’t let this man see who you really are. You scramble up and lurch towards the exit.

Unfortunately, you trip over your own accordion, and fall into a pile of mic stands.

One by one, the mic stands begin to fall like dominoes on top of your bruised and abused body. You’re trying to block some of them, but the pain is so intense that you have no choice but to lay on the ground and let this happen. It looks really pathetic, and sad accordion noises putter out with every thwack.

As the transformation ends, you come back to yourself. Wade is staring at you. He just saw your body transform from Markiplier into a random stranger. What do you say?

#Markiplier #Markiplier werewolf adventure #lordminion777 #muyskerm #distractible #distractible podcast #choose your own adventure #forgive me for posting this early I know there’s a day left on the other poll but #well I just wanted to write more lmao

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cloveroctobers · 1 year ago

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OCTOBER PROMPTS 🦇 — 11. Evan “Buck” Buckley

A/N: my man, my man, my man!! Hopefully we get to see you soon and I can actually get the nerve to finish season six—I only have maybe 4 episodes left? Then I’ll dive into 9-1-1 lone star while we wait. Regardless I thought this would be funny and a little creepy to write so here we are! Enjoy 😉

Synopsis: Buck loves the new house you live in together and although you’re not crazy about it…you decide to pull a prank on your boyfriend to liven up the place that perhaps leads to you opening doors for a uninvited guest?

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & HERE & I’m using: A buys a crappy sound machine and plants it in the house. While it plays ghost noises and spooky sounds, A hopes they can convince B that the place is haunted. + “Come on, if there was ever a time for me to be superstitious it’s definitely now.”

*GIF BELONGS TO: @911edit

<- read my previous anthology prompt here.

꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎ ꩜

“BABE!” Buck yelled into your ear after pulling the headphone away.

You flinch as you stand up straight from the kitchen island and away from your overnight oats, “Yes?” You press with raised brows.

Buck waves his hands around, “you don’t hear that?”

“Hear what?” You question, pausing the podcast and resting your headphones to lay around your neck, “I didn’t even know you were home.”

Buck immediately frowns, “don’t tell me that. That means anybody could be hiding in here and you wouldn’t even know because of those stupid things.”

“You bought them for me.”

“Yeah to use at the gym and keep those meathead douchebags away while I’m not around.” Buck explained which made you smirk with a roll of your eyes.

“Listen,” Buck said again as you moved around the modern kitchen (that you hated) to place the now empty bowl and spoon into the sink.

Placing a hand on your hip you glance around the new open floor plan home that you and Buck moved into together. The modern contemporary home was such a contrast from the outside to the inside with its exterior being too boxy for your liking but you enjoyed the black exterior and the courtyard and pool. The inside was much lighter, from white to cream walls, along with the high ceilings which made the home feel bigger and instantly sold Buck who believed this would be your forever home.

You on the other hand were not convinced but nobody could ever say you weren’t open to trying new experiences. It’s only been four months settling in and there were still some things you wanted to change like: mainly the wall colors but Buck was convinced furniture and decor could replace that urge.

Sighing you say, “I don’t hear anything Ev,” you tap the sink on, “maybe you should lay down? Was it a rough day?”

“No, it was a breeze.” Buck fanned his hand along before resting them both flat against the White Island counter, “…maybe it’s a bird or something?”

“Well what exactly did it sound like?”

“Like scratching. Kinda like Pearla when she tries to sneak into our room at night,” Buck answers before glancing around, “matter of fact, where is she?”

“At the groomers. She won’t be ready until after four,” you inform Buck of the whereabouts of your old English sheepdog.

Buck dips his head, looking at his watch, “it’s 3:42.”

“Shoot! time does really get away from me,” you widen your eyes as you quickly finish washing the dishes before spinning around to shove it into the dishwasher.

Buck nods his head, “I’ll drive.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Buck shrugs his shoulders, “it’s a nice crisp day and…I don’t want you having any accidents considering your hearing isn’t the best right now.” He playfully lifts the headphones from your neck to place down while you roll your eyes again.

You lean towards him smug, “ah, I see what this is…you’re scared to stay here by yourself because of this imaginary noise you’re hearing.”

“I’m not! And i don’t think it’s in my head.” Buck defended while you went over to the couch to shove your hoodie back over your gym attire.

“Uh huh,” you say as Buck scoffs ready to plead his case as you lock up the home behind you.

The next time Buck hears the noise is around 3am when you’re both tucked away at the back of the home in bed. It’s not a pleasant sound as his eyes snap open to the darkness of the room, the moaning and creaking almost sounds like a mixture of a whale and the cracking of a ship that meets the bottom of the ocean. Buck knows he should stop clicking on random things on YouTube before bed that leads him down a deep dive but this isn’t the first time he’s hearing that groaning sound.

It was brief before on his day off while you were at work and he was lounging on the couch watching some twisted documentary about Russ McKamey. Buck tried to brush it off as something that was on screen since it stopped when he paused the television but he couldn’t hear it while watching again. Was this truly in his head? He started to think but here he was— technically—the third time hearing the noise for much longer.

When he peaks over at you with your back to him, he lightly grips your shoulder and leans over to see that you’re still fast asleep and sits up in bed. By the edge of the bed, he spots Pearla on the floor with her fluffy ears perked up and Buck nods his head.

“You hear it too, girl? I know I’m not going crazy!” Buck whisper-yells to the dog who’s definitely more alert than you are.

Buck’s crawling out of bed with Pearla at his ankles, taking a deep inhale he opens the bedroom door to peak down the left of the hallway towards the front of the new home and only sees darkness. Pausing for a moment he listens for the noise again but the home is eerily quiet.

Buck stands there for at least two minutes before he considers closing the door but the creaking starts up again, sending Pearla flying out of the room barking as she tries to locate the noise first.

“Pearla!” Buck yells for the dog who disappears down the hallway and out of sight.

He blows a whistle with his fingers to get her attention, stepping into the hallway now but Pearla is nowhere to be seen. When he glances over his shoulder back in your direction, you’re still in fact sound asleep. Usually you’re the light sleeper out of the pair but somehow in this early morning, you’re having a grand time in dreamland.

Reaching for the doorknob, Buck slowly pulls the door closed with a soft click and begins taking the path to the main areas of the home. Pass the three bedrooms and the half bath on the left, Buck scans the dining room, kitchen, and living room to find it all empty. Confusion is written all over Buck’s face as he stands in the center of the home, hands on his hips as he’s searching but…for what?

The groaning picks up again just as a touch goes to his hips. Buck yelps, whipping around to face you who’s actually holding their composure. Buck holds onto his chest ready to let out a exhale but the look you cast behind your shoulder then back to meet Buck’s island water eyes you say, “the house is haunted.”

“What?” Buck let’s out a full exhale, trying to calm his heart rate.

You swallow, hands still holding onto Buck’s hips, “I hear it too.”

He tightens his jaw, ears picking up on the noise but now it’s the loudest it’s ever been, making you grip your very sensitive ears.

“Wait here,” Buck suggests, hands flexing as he picks up a fire poker that was left leaning against the industrial bookcase from his old apartment, “it sounds like it’s coming from the laundry room.”

You huff, feet slapping against the floor as you latch right onto the back of his shirt, “hell no! You’re not leaving me behind in this sketchy house.”

“Ohhh,” Buck sing songs, “now it’s sketchy but when I said it’s been weird lately you tell me I need a nap.”

You hiss, “be quiet, we’re supposed to be stealthy when sneaking up on a ghost.”

“I wasn’t aware that you had experience with the paranormal.” Buck looks back at you with a frown before slowly leading the way back towards the bedrooms.

“I’ve seen ghost whisperer you know?”

“…am i supposed to know what that is?”

“It’s a show Maddie and I are currently binge watching, now ssh!” Your attempt to silence the man was met but Buck used this silence to steady his heartbeat.

If this house was truly haunted then it was going to be hard to explain this to the insurance company when he’s done tearing up the place.

And we all know Buck’s not afraid of some action. His arm goes out to shield you as you both slide up against the wall opposite of the door that leads into the small laundry room. Buck couldn’t hear Pearla’s barking anymore and she did go in the opposite direction so he hoped whatever this is, didn’t harm your beloved dog.

“On my count,” Buck signals peering at you shortly to make sure you understood where he was going with this, “three…two…”

Of course he didn’t say “one” as he pushed the door back, revealing the very normal looking laundry room. Everything appeared in tack as Buck stepped into the room, hand reaching out to shove some clothes on the rack aside and then checking the cabinets above the washer and dryer.

“Huh,” Buck hummed before pulling the appliances open to find them both empty, “nothing.”

When he turns to face you, you’re hugging yourself but your brows are still furrowed in disbelief. He reaches to flick the light off and steps towards you to exit the room but a screeching noise picks up yet again. Instead of it sounding like it’s in the laundry room, it’s appears as if it’s coming from back towards the front of the home.

“No freaking way!” Buck yells, bringing the fire poker up like a bat as he runs down the hallway.

You scream at his back, “stop running towards danger you idiot!”

Buck ignores you, following the sound right to the pantry door, which is closed shut. He wastes no time, pulling the door back to reveal a gray and white Pearla fleeing from the room with a whine. Buck almost recoils at how loud the sound is coming from the pantry but steps in anyway, looking around the spacious storage room until the door shuts right behind him.

He tries the knob but to no avail, he turns back to the dark room, dropping down into a push up motion to check underneath the shelves. The thirty year old was just waiting to see something further unusual but got back to his feet just to be shoved towards the shelves.

Buck steadies his hands out in front of himself, catching himself against the shelves but not without the goods crashing onto the floor. He spins back around as the cracking noise picks up, almost making his teeth ache at the sound but that doesn’t stop him from swinging the fire poker wildly in the air. He’s not sure when the poker breaks one of the shelves but he spots a flash of red way at the top behind a acrylic container.

Panting Buck begins latching and crawling up on the shelves and swipes a hand across the top shelf, knocking the contents onto the floor to spot some sort of machine that suddenly shoots a weak steam of fog his way, followed by the creaking sound. Buck presses on top of it which sends out that screeching sound that makes Buck slip at the upsetting noise.

He’s shouting your name once he aims his footing right, landing back on it but not without the machine slipping right towards his face and knocking Buck off balance.

“I’m just glad it’s not broken,” you say for what felt like the thirteenth time as you hold the door open; ten am later that morning, leading your boyfriend back into your shared home that Buck secretly didn’t want to come back to.

The bandage on his bruised and cut up nose was prominent but Buck still sported a small smile on his face. “See what happens when you try to prank me. Now you have to tell everyone that I did in fact fight a ghost.”

The pantry door was jammed by the time you got to Buck, hearing him calling your name and Pearla barking for your attention. It wasn’t something it commonly did but you just deemed it as your anxiety getting the best of you, struggling to get it open. You were in on a bet with Chimney and Hen since Eddie (surprisingly) and Bobby didn’t want to participate—that you could convince Buck that your new home was haunted.

However you weren’t expecting for him to go investigating and get smacked in the face with the crap ghost machine you purchased off eBay. You were just happy that you weren’t the cause of Buck almost breaking his nose (you didn’t intend for the machine to slide off the shelf) but everything else you’ll take responsibility for.

“Sit,” you ordered Buck by his arms who laughed at you going into your nurturing role, “you know they’ll never believe that right?”

Buck kicks his feet up along the couch with a sigh, “but it could be a plot twist x2 with there actually being some haunted vibes going on. I mean…you did set me up.”

You pout as stood in the kitchen, “it was supposed to be all in good fun but then you had to go Rambo—being Buck. Did I mention how sorry I am?”

Buck laughs, “it’s just a scratch,” as Pearla jumps up beside him to rest her head in his lap, “it’ll heal and I can take a joke but just know…you did start a prank war for the rest of this fall season. You have no idea what you just unleashed.”

You didn’t like how Buck was rubbing his hands together in wicked joy but you’ll learn to deal with it.

“Yeah that’s what Maddie said,” you mumbled as you pulled open the fridge, “so before you come up with those ideas…I can make you your favorite breakfast.”

Buck grins, “that’ll be nice but I’d prefer a cuddle first.”

“Is your head hurting?”

Buck lolls his head, “I told you babe, I feel fine. Now get over here.”

You make a cross motion as you cautiously step over to Buck who shakes his head at you with a grin. Once you’re close enough, he reaches for your sweatshirt to yank you to his other side since Pearla made her claim on his left.

“Now that I know I’m not going crazy anymore, I can really enjoy this house with my two favorite people.” Buck curls a arm around you and rests the other along the back of the couch after patting Pearla’s head.

Resting your head against Buck’s chest you sink into the comfort each other. However that doesn’t last long with the sound of glass shattering from the mirror that once hung on the wall above the wooden chest that contained the record player on top of it.

The silence is almost deafening now as the both of you watch the pieces of the mirror decorate the floor.

Buck says, “Come on, if there was ever a time to be superstitious it’s definitely now.”

You knew a broken mirror was not a good sign and Buck started to feel like it wasn’t really all in his head as the flashes of what happened earlier this morning played back in his head. It couldn’t just be the trash machine you bought whenever and Buck really wasn’t that clumsy to trip over his feet so what gives?

Spookiness can be fun but Buck could always sense when things didn’t exactly feel right anymore? He believed in the full moon, mercury in retrograde and he strongly believed in when things weren’t just a good scare.

“So you agree, we should go house hunting?”

Again? Buck hated the process when he was on his own but with you it felt nice, like there was a definite future to look forward to.

“Yeah,” Buck states, “I think I’m done ghost hunting for awhile.”

“Hell yeah you are.” You respond, keeping your eyes towards the area just in case you saw something else that didn’t sit right with you; while reaching for your phone.

The both of you didn’t bother to debate over where you would be escaping to for the night as you searched your contacts for your realtor and fast.

꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎ ꩜

Continue with my fall anthology prompts here.

#queued #911 #911 fox #911 abc #911 fanfic #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #fall prompts #Maddie Buckley #chimney han #Eddie diaz #henrietta wilson #bobby nash #evan buck buckley #howard han #oliver stark

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

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Silver Lining 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"So your sister will be coming by next week with the little ones," your mother declares as you stand at the sink, scrubbing away the remnants of roast beef and potato. "You'll get to play auntie for the day."

"Mhmm," you nod, "what about Justin?"

"Oh, your brother's down visiting with his fiance's family. He said he'd try to make if for Christmas Eve but you know how her family is."

You sniff and pretend to know. You really don't. It's all hearsay to you. You don't hear much from either siblings; they have lives, you just happen to be related.

"S-sounds great," you utter as you put another plate in the rack.

"Oh, honey, you should just use the dishwasher," she says.

"It's f-f-fine, this works," you insist.

"Well, what about you? What are you up to?" She leans on the counter.

"I..." you don't know what to say. You need a lie, anything to appease her. Your brother's engaged, your sister has the white picket fence and you have nothing, "oh, I h-have a job interview."

"You do?" She sounds thoroughly disbelieving.

"Uh, yeah, w-well," you stammer through, trying not to give away your deceit, "since n-no one wants to h-hire me in my f-field, I f-found something new."

"That's exciting," she chimes, "what is it?"

"Uh, I w-want to see i-if it turns out b-before I say," you give a tight-lipped smile, "don't want to d-disappoint you again."

"Sweetie, you're not a disappointment," she hums, "I'm always happy to see you trying."

You look down at the sink and shrug. Behind that comment is the inference that you weren't trying before. That you haven't been. The long nights with vivid nightmares don't exactly motivate you and you've been all but blacklisted as an executive assistant. Even admin roles aren't responding. Even if you do get a bite, the job market is drawn out and tedious.

"Thanks, mom."

"Just... try not to mope around the kids," she chides, "it's Christmas."

You flutter your lashes, "sure, mom."

That's what you are to everyone; weak, pathetic, useless. No, don't do that. You'll make another appointment with Lisa, she always knows what to do.

☕️

Well, this is it. A last resort. One of those freelancing websites that pays pennies. It's better than nothing and will keep you from having too big a gap on your resume. You could easily do the writing gigs, easy money for transcription. You apply to a few of those and scroll on.

You sit up as you see a particular posting that interest you. Oddly enough, the pay isn't half bad. It's also labeled as 'may lead to ongoing work'. Well, well, well, now that's something.

You click into the posting for 'Podcast Script Writer' and review the details. A sample is required for application and lucky enough, you have lots of those hanging around. If it wasn't for your stammer, you'd have an episode done by now. You deleted enough recordings to the point of giving up. Well, this is a solution. You can get your work out there without having to embarrass yourself.

You go through the application, putting in your info and editing a draft before attaching it to the application. You just hope it's thorough enough. You never really let anyone else see and hitting submit makes your stomach flip. With the final click, you close your laptop and quickly get up. Alright, you're not going to dwell on it. If you hear anything, you'll worry then.

You try to read but can't focus. It just makes you think of the posting and your application. Oh jeez, imagine you're rejected but worse, they tell you you've done everything wrong.

Appointment! You can't forget that. You login to the app and put in a request for a Zoom appointment that week. Alright, you're getting things done, you can't say you've done nothing.

You put a video on your phone and lean it on the pop out grip, propping it up on your mattress to watch the compilation of sitcom moments cut together on Youtube. Your mind wanders and your eyes begin to sag as the day shrouds you in fatigue. You slip into a shallow doze as the glare of the screen flickers over you.

The distant clack of keyboards and clicking of mouses needles behind your ears. It's as if you're trapped in a bubble of silence, all colours and noised dampened by the unseen wall. You shudder as you hear his voice, the only thing that's clear. Your name crawls up behind the shell of your ear with his breath as his hands settle on your hips. Your body aches as every muscles tightens and your bones lock in place. Please, no, not again...

"Sir..." you try to speak but nothing comes out. He's always tugging your skirt up, his hand is around your throat. You close your eyes as tears stain your cheeks.

You wake with a start, your phone black as the battery's drained from neglect. You sit up and pant, looking around your dark bedroom, the moonlight limning shadows sinisterly. You gulp and fall back, watching the ceiling as the tears rise in reality and sting your eyes.

If you'd just said no. A simple word. Even you can manage that.

You lay for a while until your restlessness boils over. You get up and plug in your phone. The screen lights up as you rub your eye socket and yawn. There's an email notification in the taskbar. Probably more ads for things you can't afford.

You pull down the menu but find ‘Application Update’ emblazoned across the notification. Oh wow, that was fast. You keep yourself from tapping on the email.

You don't know if you can handle another rejection. You'd rather languish in the uncertainty. You've been doing so for so long, it almost feels safe.

#dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #drabble #series #au #silverfox #silver lining #mcu #marvel #avengers #winter soldier

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milaawritess · 29 days ago

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Chapter One

•

A loud clattering of glass sent you shooting upright from your sleep at witching hour—3 AM. Immediately, you were nearly hysterical in the moment, your chest raised up and down dramatically as you frantically scurried to peek over the edge of your raised bed. You worried that your worst fear was about to come true: being killed in a home invasion.

Your bedroom had a fire escape, but you could not escape because that was the window that had been damaged. As you wait a few moments, with no further sounds emitting, you crawl out of bed. Squatting down, you examine a rigid red brick.

“My bad,” an exhausted yet still husky voice calls out. “I need somewhere to stay.” You take a second to assess the situation. It’s a male voice, yes, but they don’t sound like they’re of any danger to you. But then again, if it’s anything you’d learned from true crime podcasts, it’s that those kind of things don’t matter. The best criminals are great actors.

Slowly, you use all the courage left to lift your head up. Your left hand grips the dusted, hard red brick for dear life. Your eyes fall upon soft brown ones—belonging to a white man with black curly hair, a defined nose, and dear God—great bone structure.

“Hate to rush the introduction” He chuckled, only slightly. He’d been wearing an orange jumpsuit. “But I’m sure helicopters will make their rounds at any moment now.” You struggle to swallow the excess saliva pooling in your mouth as you force a nod. Your legs tremble as you get on your feet, using your free hand to lift the window open. The hole that the brick had made was only small enough to fit a head through.

“I’d like to introduce myself,” he began once inside, “but that brick being in your hand is making me a little uneasy.” You shook your head, rather erratically.

“I’m—”you started out in a stutter, catching your breath. “I’m not letting go. Not until you tell me who you are and why you’re here.”

He pouted, though the look one his face was one of someone who’s impressed. “Smart girl you are” he smirked, looking down at you. His eyes trailed your body, an eyebrow raising slightly to indicate focus. Suddenly, you remembered what you’d worn to bed: lingerie, with a dainty matching robe on—barely on. It hung off your shoulders, exposing your bra and panties. Awkwardly, with your one free hand, you attempted to hold two parts of the robe together.

“Already saw it” he mumbled, “you look good. Anybody ever tell you to get into modeling?”

You rolled your eyes. The moonlight illuminated the room, the one reason you could see. “Can you tell me why you’re here, and who you are?” You raised the brick in the air, “I would hate to have to use this.”

He invited himself to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry” he apologized, “I honestly thought you’d know. Seems all of America does right now.”

“I don’t want the news.” You folded your arms, brick still gripped tightly in your left hand. While you were demonstrating bravery, you were actually terrified. But you couldn’t let this man see that. “So talk.”

“Luigi Mangione” he answered, “the alleged CEO killer.” Your eyes shot wide open as you realized. Yes, you’d seen a picture of him in passing, but the situation hadn’t really caught your interest, so you didn’t pay it much mind. He smirked at your reaction. “Seems you do know about me.”

“A co-worker talked about it and showed me” you scoff, “so don’t get a big head.” You huff as you think, remembering what your co-worker had told you. They believed Luigi was innocent, and while you were taught to be wary of strangers, you felt pretty safe in his presence, too.

“Why did you escape?” You lowered your gaze, taking note of the deep red cuff indents in Luigi’s wrists. “If you’re innocent, why not prove that on trial?”

“I’m not getting a fair trial.” Luigi shook his head. “They’re giving me federal charges. If I lose the case, which has a higher likelihood since my trial isn’t expected to be fair, I will then risk the possibility of death penalty.” His leg began tapping at the possibility of being executed. In a near-silent whisper, almost as if he were talking to himself, he said “I didn’t kill him.”

“I guess you can stay here for the night” you didn’t think much of it. You were a regular girl who worked at a grocery store, still in college. You had three-hundred followers on social media and usually only posted your cat. Who the hell would think that you’re harboring the Luigi Mangione in your small apartment?

“But after, you need to make a long term plan” you advised Luigi. “You’re not all that far from where you’re being jailed. You can’t go out in public.”

“I know” Luigi conceded.

You sat down beside him, watching as he wiggled his arms out of the orange jumpsuit. Beneath, he’d been wearing a white muscle shirt. “Like what you see?” he nearly scoffed, bringing you back to reality. You’d been staring. “Oh” you stuttered, “I—I was—um..”

“Yeah” he leaned his head close to yours. For a second, you thought he was going to kiss you. You’d only kissed two guys, one of them being a dare. So for a moment, you panicked. But he stopped.

An inch laid between your noses as he ran his left hand thumb across your face. “You have soft skin” his tone turned sultry. You briefly folded your lips in, gulping once more. You could feel a slight tingle in your clit. “What’s…” you trailed, “going… on?”

“I don’t know how much freedom I have” he admitted. “A day, a week… I’m not sure.” He briefly looked back at the broken window. “But what I do know is that I asked God to help me hide, and felt compelled to come to this very apartment—all the way on the third floor.” You nod slightly, indicating that you’re listening.

His finger slowly slid down your face and toward your jaw, then to your neck and finally collar bone. “Maybe…” he tilted his head slightly, attentive of what he was doing. “Maybe there’s… a reason for that?” You unconsciously held your breath as you watched and listened. When his eyes made their way back up—staring into your soul—you nodded slowly.

“Yeah” you barely smiled. “I think so.”

Your lips collided with his, unsure of who made the move. He pushed your abdomen against the bed gently, still kissing you for a moment. You hurriedly removed your panties, now desperate for Luigi.

As he removed the rest of his jumpsuit, an aroma filled the room. Even though he’d been incarcerated, he smelled so fucking good. With his dick protruding, bouncing up and down at every breath, he clasped his hands on the back of your knees, pushing your knees against your chest. The moon’s glimmer made the arousal fluid on your clit glisten.

You watched as Luigi discreetly licked his bottom lip, taking a second to acknowledge the trickling fluid. You so badly wanted to say “just fuck me already,” but didn’t want to give him a big head.

But it’s almost like he could read your mind. Because as he got closer, resting his throbbing manhood on your uterus, he made a request: “beg for it.”

You groaned, plopping your head back flat against the bed. “Not doing that,” you mumbled, instantly met with a dominant thrust. You’d been so wet that you barely even felt it going in. “Fuck!”

He pulled back out, suddenly.

“What?” You flexed your neck upward again.

“Beg” he jerked his head forward. “For. It.”

“Fine” you groaned. “Please fuck me.” It was the most sarcastic comment you’d ever made.

“Okay.” Luigi scoffed, getting on his knees. He stuck two fingers in your hole, licking your clit in a circular motion. You made attempts to limit your sound, pride stopping you from admitting that his method was working. As he alternated between licking and sucking your clitoral hood, you couldn’t stop thinking of the three strong, passionate thrusts he gave you.

“Okay!” You breathed. You sat up, “please” your chest rose. “Please… fuck the shit out of me.”

A genuine smile spread across his face as he pushed you by the abdomen back onto the bed, inserting himself as he pinned your legs against your chest once more. “I knew you’d cave in.”

“Just shut up and fuck me” you hardly mumble with your eyes shut tight before the pace quickens, balls smacking your butt as the bedframe creaks. You barely have the ability to think in the moment, his dick is hitting your walls full force, every other second. You manage to maneuver your boobs out of your bra, grasping them tightly as sound involuntarily escape your mouth.

“Look at me” he demands, forcing you to open your eyes. The look within his own are of determination. “You’re so fucking sexy.” His breathing gets louder and louder, suddenly reaching an apex. “Fuckkkk” he lets out, gripping your shoulders as he’s hunched over you. He uses them to pull you closer. You can feel a warmth in your insides.

He rests on you for a minute or two, and you wonder if it’s comfortable. You’re positioned on your back, on the edge of the bed. His legs are pressed up against said edge, his abdomen leaning on the back of your legs. But the thoughts go away as your eyes lock once more. He slowly gets up.

“Yeah” he breathed out with a grin, “I don’t intend on going back to jail anytime soon.”

#wattpad #free luigi #luigi mangione #chapter one #smut #y/n #fanfic #luigi my beloved #books and reading #book blog

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elisysd · 11 months ago

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7. It's always one step forward and three steps back

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: 1 step forward, 3 steps back - Olivia Rodrigo

Warm. You were intensely warm. You started to move a little in the very comfortable bed, not wanting to open your eyes yet. You snuggled deeper into your pillow before feeling it moving and something pulling you closer. Your eyes fluttered open. It took a few seconds for you to register your environment and suddenly you understood. Your pillow was a very strong chest, moving in sync to his breathing. And what pulled you closer was his arm, snaked around your waist. And now, you were very awake and conscious of each of your movements. You felt panic wash over you and you almost jumped out of bed, waking up Charles in the process. You didn’t even look at him, throwing a jumper on yourself and putting a sweatpant over your pair of shorts.

“Y/N? What the hell?” Charles mumbled, getting up as well to come closer to you.

“Mistake. Fucking, stupid mistake. You and me. In that bed. How can I be so stupid?” you frantically replied, getting your suitcases and making your way to the door, only to be stopped by Charles, grabbing your arm and forcing you to face him.

“Nothing happened. We just slept. Nothing more. We just invaded each other's spaces, it happens. It doesn’t mean a thing. Just calm down.” he reassured you.

“It’s… still. It’s unprofessional. From my side. We work in the same environment, it’s wrong. Wrong on so many levels…”

“You’re overthinking this.”

“Quite the opposite actually, I think I’m the one seeing the situation in a clear way.” you contradicted him.

“Okay, fine, if you say so. And where are you going to go?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, making you blush at the sight.

“I… I’ll figure it out.” you stuttered.

He sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

“You can keep the room.. I’ll stay with Joris.” he simply said.

You could see that you hurt him somehow and it made your heart ache. It was the last thing you wanted.

“I don’t want to kick you out of your room… especially when you so kindly offered me to stay…”

You could almost see the wheels in his head turning full speed.

“Well… you did tell me that you could show me around. What do you think about spending the day together, so you can calm down, and at the end of it, if you still want to leave, I’ll make the arrangements.”

You nodded. You just hoped it wouldn't end in a disaster.

You started with a coffee in Central Park and as you walked down the paths, you found it surprisingly easy how the awkwardness of the morning had vanished. You talked about many things, mostly mundane and about your hobbies. He learned how much you liked photography, something he was trying to get himself into, he told you all about piano and how it was relaxing him when he was not racing. He talked about his family a lot and how spending quality time with them was everything to him. Around lunch you end up in a little Italian restaurant and the conversation was still flowing easily between you.

“I love fashion. I know it doesn’t look like it but I would love to have my own brand one day. I want to design things.”

“At least, when it happens, it will be your own disastrous fashion attempts. You won’t be able to hide behind a brand.” you teased him as he threw bread crumbs on your face to annoy you.

“What would be your biggest dream activity? And you can’t tell me that you are already living it.” he asked and you paused, taking your time to answer.

“I think I would love to have a podcast. I would love to have conversations with people who work in the shadows, you know.”

“What is stopping you?”

“My job. I can’t start another activity that could potentially create a conflict with what I’m already doing. So… maybe one day, far away in the future.” you explained.

“You would be amazing as a host.”

It stopped you dead in your tracks and you looked at him. He was serious, there was no humor in his reply, no judgment, just a genuine trust in your abilities.

“Thank you… it means a lot.”

“You might be insufferable from time to time but you know how to make people comfortable. Even if it’s to make them relive their worst nightmares.” he winked.

You kept talking that day, getting to know each other on a deeper level, far away from the tracks and the image both of you had to keep up. And it felt nice. You laughed, he teased you, you talked about your lives, you talked about what you loved and what kept you up at night. Later as the moon was high in the sky and you were coming back to your hotel, Charles told you that you could keep his room.

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’m going to the Yankees’ game tomorrow. Would you like to join? I might need someone to explain the rules to me.”

“I would love to.”

And the next day was probably one of the best days for you in a long time. You got along quite well with his brothers and friends and the day went by in a blink of an eye. As you were about to part ways in the lobby, he turned to you.

“I had a really nice time here with you.”

“Me too.” you smiled.

“Does that mean that we are friends now?” he shyly asked.

“And I would be more than happy to be your friend, Charles.”

He didn’t intend to, but the warm feeling in his chest made him make a step forward and engulf you in a hug, which you reciprocated to his surprise. He stuttered, looked at you and you noticed how his cheeks were starting to get more and more pink as you could feel your do the same.

“Well, good night… See you around? In Imola?” he said.

“Most definitely.”

Coming back to Paris after the wonderful break that New-york had been for you felt weird and soon you caught up in your daily routine, except that texting Charles was now a new addition to it. You were going through editorial board meetings after editorial board meetings, preparing the next races with Jean and Marion as well as Isabel and Morgan who were part of the team but weren’t joining you on race weekends. You liked to work with everyone, they felt like a second family to you. But in between meetings and during each coffee break you couldn’t help but text Charles. Whether it was about a stupid doubt in your mind about reglementation or a quick question about how his day was going, you were always shocked to see how fast he was replying to you, no matter how busy he was. This unexpected friendship felt nice and might have been exactly what you needed at this point in your life.

“Who are you texting that makes you smile like that?” Jean asked, an espresso in her hand as you just got out of a quick editorial briefing.

“No one in particular…” you bit your lips.

“A boyfriend?”

“Oh gosh no. I mean, he is a friend. I suppose.”

“You suppose? Shouldn't you be sure?”

“It’s… Can I ask you something personal?”

“Of course.” Jean reassured you.

“You are friends with some drivers, right? How do you do that to not impact your job?”

Jean looked at you as your leg started to bounce from anxiety.

“Well… I’ve never really got to think about that. It came quite naturally. When you love your job and are passionate about it, I think it’s easy. As long as you don’t overthink the way you do your job, that you stick to the reasons that led you to choose this life, then it’s easy. It becomes harder if you start to have strong bonds with some. I was close to Jules Bianchi and his family, I still am. I was there when he got into his crash. It was probably the toughest and most traumatizing experience in my career.”

“How did you do it?”

“You stick to the facts. No less and no more. You do what you know best and you stick to it.”

“Do you regret it? Becoming friends with Jules, I mean…”

“Never. Besides being a great source of information, I got to learn so many things by his side and meet other people. It’s all about finding balance. You know, when you’re in the paddock, browsing for information, asking questions… you’re not totally the same person as you are out of there. You have a mask of professionalism. The drivers are the same.”

And he was right. You had observed it with Charles. And he had already told you how different you were from your journalist persona. Maybe Jean was right and overthinking the situation would only create issues where they weren’t needed.

On your way home that day, you had decided that you would stop putting barriers between your relationships and what you thought was right. It was stupid and prevented you from being happy. Charles made you happy, Mick, Esteban and Pierre as well. And truth be told, Luc would be disappointed in yourself to not jump on the occasion to get closer to his idols. Alone in your flat, the TV on, you started to pack for Imola until you got a text from Charles.

I’m not sure the race will happen. A risk of flooding is set on Imola’s area.

Are they canceling the race?

Not yet.

You were about to reply when your phone vibrated and Charles’ name popped on your screen.

“Three hours of being caught in traffic and four diversions. That’s how bad it is. The F2 paddock is literally under water. I don't see how it could get better. We would need a miracle for the race.” he explained.

“You could have told me that over a text you know… you didn’t need to call me. Although I’m happy to hear from you.”

“I know… I just needed to express my frustration out loud.”

“What does the organization say about the situation?” you asked, your journalistic instincts taking over.

“Nothing. They are waiting to see if the alert is about to be lifted or not. It’s stupid. It’s endangering people. Anyway… how are you doing?”

“Good. Busy preparing the maybe non race weekend” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

“I bet. If by miracle Imola was to happen, are you down for a coffee or a walk or anything really… I need to get my mind out of the season.” he sighed.

“Getting your mind out of it by hanging out with someone whose whole job revolves around covering the season?”

“I want to talk to my lovely friend. Not to the annoying journalist.”

“I can be that.”

“What? Annoying, believe me, I know.” you could hear the laugh in his voice.

“No! Lovely, idiot.”

“I know that too. You’re cute.”

You felt your cheeks reddened and a deafening silence on the other end of the line.

“I mean… cute in a puppy way. Not in a sexy and attractive way… not that you are not sexy and attractive. Not to me. I’m sure there are plenty of guys out there that could fancy you.” he quickly added as you were hoping the floor would swallow you whole. “You know what I mean?”

“Not really, no.”

“Just… forget I said anything, yeah?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice.

After Imola had been canceled, just like how Charles had predicted it, the next stop of the season was Monaco, also known as the busiest time for you. In absence of a French GP, Monaco was now the closest of a homerace than it could be, meaning you were busier than ever. It was going to be a big weekend and you were really excited. You barely had time for yourself as when you were not working, you were texting Charles who was almost as busy as you were. But as the week was progressing and the Grand Prix was right around the corner, communication died down.

Indeed, Charles was swamped with interviews and sponsoring events from left to right and it was only when he was alone in his flat that he could check on his phone, sadder than what he was supposed to be when he noticed that you had stopped texting him. It was stupid, he knew how busy you were and it was unfair to ask from you to be there for him when he knew that he couldn’t do the same for you. And you were just friends, not that close even if over the last weeks he felt like he had started to know you on a deep level and you could say the same about him. He didn’t really understand why he felt so bothered not talking to you and he reassured himself thinking he would see you in the paddock.

But you weren’t there on media day, busy shooting reports in the streets of Monaco, nor were you here during Free Practices as you were covering the F2 sessions. He didn’t try to overthink and focused on the qualifyings the next day, sure that you would be there to welcome him in the media pen. But you weren’t, Marion was. He quickly asked Silvia if she knew why it was not you and she shrugged.

His home race’s weekend was starting a bit too well for his liking and as if fate had heard his doubts, the penalty dropped as he was heading out. Saying he was mad was an understatement. It was unfair, he knew he didn’t deserve it, not like this and it’s defeated that he met Arthur, at their mom’s house. Arthur was no better than him, he was not proud of his driving so far.

“I feel like I’m a failure. I don’t deserve my seat there and people are starting to be more and more vocal about that…” he confessed to Charles.

“Shut up. You do. And the ones who are saying you don’t are stupid. They don’t matter.”

“I want to make dad proud, Charles.”

“I know. I do too. And I promise you we will. We are going to give our all tomorrow. For him.” Charles assured.

But both races for the brothers ended up pretty badly for different reasons. Arthur had to DNF and Charles, retrograded in P6 after his penalty stayed in this position throughout the whole race. No actions, nothing. just a boring race and one he wanted to forget. But as he was heading to the media pen, he noticed you and suddenly, he felt better. He walked confidently to you and gave you a smile, that you reciprocated. He was about to answer confidently when he heard your first question.

“P6 for you today Charles after your penalty and another home Grand Prix that is not going as expected. Do you start to believe that you might get cursed after all?”

“I.. I… Well, I think it’s just a matter of circumstances. We tried our best to fight with everyone but it wasn’t enough.”

“Do you envision the possibility of you never winning Monaco?”

“Of course not! I’ll always give my all here and I know that one day it will pay off.” he answered a bit more harshly than what he intended. He didn’t understand where your questions were coming from. It was just like at the beginning of the season and it seemed that all the progress that you both had made were vanishing and your relationship back to square one. He didn’t even glance at you as he walked out of the media pen, even more frustrated than when he got in.

Once the post race meeting was over, he wandered around the paddock, trying to search for you and determined to find answers. He wanted to know why you had been so aggressive with your questions. He knew that the chances were high that you would still be around but despite his best attempts, you were nowhere to be seen and that angered him even more.

To let loose and as it was now a tradition, Charles and a few of his closest friends went out clubbing. It was one of the moments he was waiting for the most during the Grand Prix weekend and today, more than ever, he needed it. Other drivers were there as well. Pierre and his girlfriend Kika, Alex with Lily and George with Carmen, making him feel more single than ever.

“I’m not in the mood to see so many happy couples tonight.” he complained to Joris at the bar.

“Well that could be easily arranged, you know. There are so many girls who are waiting in line for you. Just pick one.”

“You know that I’m not that kind of guy. I need to feel a connection with someone.”

“Come on, man. After this weekend I think you deserve to enjoy yourself.”

Charles sighed and scanned the room only to see you there, talking and laughing with Mick. You seemed happy, carefree, something you only had shown to him and he admitted it, he felt jealous. Even more when Mick hugged you and he saw you reciprocating it. He clenched his jaw and drank his whiskey in one gulp. He didn’t care how he felt the liquid burning his throat, at the moment it was not worse than the burning he felt in his chest. He was so caught up watching you that he didn’t see Pierre approaching.

“There you are. I was starting to think you had gone home to be grumpy on your own.”

Charles barely made a sound to acknowledge his presence and Pierre followed his best friend’s gaze. Here you were, now on the dancefloor with Mick who was busy making you twirl around. He looked at Charles to see him clench his jaw and barely understood what was going on. He had never seen him acting like that.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Sure. That’s why you look like you want to see Mick buried six feet under.”

“I’m not.”

“It's okay, Charles. You can admit it. I won’t say anything or anyone.”

“There is nothing to admit.”

“You’re so stubborn.”

“Fuck off, Gasly.” he finally brushed his friend off, as Joris was laughing.

He got out of the club, not feeling in the mood to party anymore. He was jealous. That was true. And he never thought that seeing you with another man would make him this angry. He wanted to be the one to make you laugh, the one to make you dance, the only one worthy of your hugs, the only one to put a bright smile on your face. And that was true, maybe his feelings were not as friendly as he thought.

You were slightly drunk, you knew it. You had spent the night laughing with Mick and Marion. You needed it. It had been a hell of a few weeks and letting loose was what you had been waiting for. On your way out, giggling as you were barely able to put one foot in front of the other, Marion joined you.

“I think it’s time for you to rest, missy.” she laughed, taking your bag out of your hands, scared you would drop it.

“How are you not drunk?”

“Experience, darling.”

She hailed a taxi and you both hopped in and made your way back to the hotel.

“Are you going to be okay on your own or do you need me to walk you to your room?” Marion asked.

“I’ll be fine.”

And you wouldn’t admit to her that you made a mistake on your floor number. When you finally made it, you were just dreaming about a nice shower and your soft bed. But when you looked up and your heart almost jumped out of your chest as you were feeling yourself sobering up rather quickly, you knew you were not getting them as soon as you hoped for. Charles was standing up in front of your door.

Author's note: An early chapter as I'm nor sure I'll be able to post tomorrow. What do you think Charles is doing here? What is he going to say?

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

If you wanna be part of the taglist, let me know.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @thirstylion @cmleitora @charizznorizz @sltwins @boherahpsody @herondalism @roseamongthorns13 @aundercover @snowflakesfluff

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thalialunacy · 8 months ago

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[written for the @calaisreno FABULOUS MAY PROMPTS FEST! This is the last one from me, folks. Thanks for being along for the ride. 💋]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) 31: pride

'End, begin, all the same.' - Aughra, "The Dark Crystal"

The tannoy at the train station nearest Sherlock's parents' house is phlegmatic enough that John almost doesn't catch their names being called.

He exchanges glances with Sherlock over the top of Rosie's head, but the detective is of no real help. 'Fine, then. Let's go at least see what it is.'

Sherlock makes his Calculating Risk face, then nods. 'The odds of it being an assassin are low.'

'Comforting,' John replies dryly as they exit towards the car park. Then he sees what's ahead of them. 'Are you sure?'

Because in the waiting zone is an understated but incredibly expensive car, and there's a well-suited, quietly brick house-like man standing by the driver's side door.

'Fairly,' Sherlock says, mouth twisting. 'He's one of Mycroft's.'

'Not reassuring, really.'

The man assesses them blandly as they approach. 'My only objective is the car hand-off, gents. You're to drive yourselves.'

John shifts Rosie to his other side. 'Yes, erm. Where… To?'

'Dumfries,' the man says shortly, handing a thin dossier to Sherlock. 'Cheers.'

Sherlock watches him go with a scowl. 'If Mycroft could stop being an interfering busybody for one moment-- Oh.'

John glances at his expression, and clearly there's something of note in the dossier--presumably a case--but he has a toddler to wrestle into a car seat. Because of course there's a carseat. Interfering or no, Mycroft is an incredibly detail-oriented busybody.

Sherlock's scowl stays in place as they get underway, and John clears his throat. 'Want me to fire up the old GPS?'

Sherlock looks for a moment like John's vocabulary pains him -- it probably does, John thinks with not a little bit of amusement -- then nods.

This is unusual-- Sherlock likes to show off his navigation skills, and to be fair, John finds them impressive-- so John complies without issue. He pulls open the dossier and scans it for the name of their lodgings, which he puts into his phone absently. 'I've not been to this part of Scotland since I was a kid. There's a triangular castle with a real siege weapon, and--'

He stops. Stares at the phone screen.

"Gretna Green," it declares as their destination.

'I see you've figured out Mycroft's cunning plan,' Sherlock intones.

John lets out an incredulous laugh. 'Is he taking the piss?'

'He's hired us a car which is probably worth more than the one he owns, so I'd say not.'

As if on cue (and that will never not be creepy, John swears) John's phone pings with several texts.

Consider this a hint.

The case is more than adequate, if my brother complains.

Don't let your country, or my mother, down.

John opens his mouth, but Sherlock cuts him off. 'He sent me a similar message.'

'Lovely,' John mutters. 'Well.' He considers. 'The hired house looks like something out of a very brand-conscious fairy tale, so that'll be amusing for Rosie.'

'Grimms tales, maybe,' Sherlock mutters. John's lips quirk.

They're silent for a while, comfortable, listening to Rosie smash plastic toys together in the back-- she's very fond of dinosaurs, particularly the bloodthirsty kind-- and not really watching the countryside go by.

John's scrolling through podcast options on his phone when Sherlock eventually breaks the silence. 'Do you know--' he starts.

'Probably not,' John says easily.

'Gretna Green have actually been very reluctant about relinquishing their old-fashioned image.'

John watches his face. 'Meaning… white?'

Sherlock's mouth quirks. 'Among other things.' He glances at John, who only takes a moment to get the inference.

'Ah, I see. Well.' He considers it, then his risk-loving brain decides for him. He plucks Sherlock's free hand up and presses his lips to one knuckle. 'Feel like upsetting some apple carts?' he asks, smirking.

Sherlock's hand tightens with his answering grin. 'God, yes.'

Fin fuckin finally

[Y'all, I have been to Gretna Green and it's reeeeal heteronormative, despite technically offering same-sex weddings (eg that's literally the only queer-coded picture on the site afaik). I just love the idea of J&S causing chaos there by being extraordinarily traditional while also being two blokes, and, you know, being themselves.]

#It's gonna be MAY 2024 #BBC Sherlock #May Prompts 2024 #MayPrompts2024 #DONE-ZO #Johnlock

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lowkeyrobin · 9 months ago

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Hey! So if you're writing ghostbusters things right now (apologies if you arent, my Tumblr is acting up and it's not letting me see some of the fonts its just squares 😑) anyway I would love to request a podcast x reader of you're up for that because the dude does not get enough love 😔😔

I was thinking like the reader was childhood friends (mayyybeee first crushes?) but the reader moved to NYC and is now a regular at rays occult and now meets the reader again? What do we think?

Anyway hope you write this and have a GREAT day/night 😊

it's okay!! my requests r open as long as my mailbox is available haha, can't rlly stop ppl from requesting if it's still up so yeah dw ; but yeah of course! this actually sounds rlly fun to write lol ; have a good day/night to you too! ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy :) ; also since we don't know much about podcast I kinda made some stuff up, I've watched both afterlife and frozen empire at least 3 times each so... hopefully I gathered all the canon podcast lore idk ; also reqs back open! gonna post the rest of the queue then work on anything yall send

PODCAST ; i think we're alone now

summary ; a little childhood best friends/first crushes reunite at rays occult books

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; we don't know a whole lot about podcast so I made some a lot stuff up lol ; also I'm just using Logan's name as podcasts legal name bc idk what else to call him + I just use actor names to fill in names in other movies/shows

track ; i think we're alone now ; tiffany

word count ; 1k

masterlist

Your first crush was silly and dumb, being on your at-the-time best friend, Logan, or Podcast, as he was now mostly known. He always had a fascination for film and commentary, no wonder he had his own podcast.

You'd recently moved to New York, surprisingly, where Podcast also lived these days. You reconnected over social media and found out you'd be living near each other again like the good old days, and decided to meet up once you got comfortable in the new environment. And that's what had happened. You now await his arrival at Ray's Occult Books, where you skim through the bookshelves, reading each spine to see if any title jumped out at you.

The bell above the door jingles, causing you to look up to see who it is again. Him, thankfully.

He scans the store, looking for you. Ray nods his head toward you, leading him right to you.

He smiles as he approaches, stuffing his phone in his jorts pocket. "Hey"

"Hey," you reply, a soft smile pulling on the corners of your lips.

"Uh, how are you?" He asks, clearly struggling to make conversation.

"Good, I like your outfit," you reply, pointing out his colorful collared shirt. Even now, it reflected his curious and extroverted personality.

He glances down at his shirt, having forgotten what he was even wearing, "Oh, thanks! Uh, do you wanna go walk around or something?" He asks, glancing over at Ray, staring you two down at the counter.

"Sure"

You end up strolling around the city, catching up and talking about life until you retrieve to the basement of Ray's Occult Books, where Podcast was currently living for the summer. He already told you how he was supposed to be at summer camp and how he'd been consecutively lying to his mom. You already knew that was pretty in character for him. He wasn't great at fitting in and would've rather stayed with people he knew and his other actual friend, Phoebe.

You let some of the mini marshmallow pufts climb all over you, using you like a giant stool. A few use your arms as little slides. Logan takes a picture, framing your goofy smile while another mini puft jumps off your head and onto your shoulder.

A few slide down your left arm back onto the desk, then use your right hand as an elevator to go again. As you hoist a little group back up to your shoulder, Logan is now recording on his phone, laughing behind the camera.

"They're so cute," You happy-pout, looking at him for a moment.

Oh, how he wanted to pull the Uno reverse card on you with that, but he couldn't. He thought about it far too long, then backed out because he was too scared, but told himself it was just to late.

You look around his room, two of the little pufts sitting on your head like Remy in Ratatouille. You note all the posters and little trinkets and things around the room, making a weak assumption that he just liked collecting little random things.

You notice the orange lava lamp sitting on his bedside table, turned on, and providing an orange glow throughout that corner of the room. It shines off the side of Logan's face, creating an omniscient kind of glow that you can't look away from.

Denying you still had a crush on him would just make this even worse.

He looks back at you after saving the video to his photos and putting it in his Friends and Shenanigans folders, catching you quickly looking away. He raises an eyebrow, seeing your slightly jittery movements as you use your hand as an elevator for the mini pufts again. They don't keep it a secret though, 'oo'ing and 'ah'ing and bouncing on your shoulders and head.

You can feel your face flushing, attempting to hide it by not looking back at him.

The mini pufts land back on the desk, skattering behind the array of glass jars. You look back at him, seeing he's already looking at you. He's close, closer than you remembered, you felt closer to him, really.

You look down at the mini pufts at your feet, wondering if you'd zoned out as they slid you across the floor. You look back up at Logan, giving you that same soft look you were giving him.

Look, what a funny, simple word. There was no other word for that almost hypnotizing gaze shared between the two of you. There was so much tension. So much so that it was killing the mini pufts. They wanted to shove you into each other to just kiss already.

"I think we're alone now," He quietly speaks, glancing down at the desk where the mini pufts had flee'd from.

The beating of your hearts was the only sound as you pressed your hands against his jawline, his hands slinking down to your waist. You press your lips to his for a moment, then again and again before properly pulling away.

He opens his eyes, a grin painting his face. He pecks your lips once more before he knows you'll say that you have to leave.

"I have to go, I think my mom's waiting outside"

"Okay"

He watches as you stumble up the basement stairs, your face flushed. A smile still tugs at his lips, cheeks a light shade of pink.

The mini pufts come out from hiding and cheer him on, then flick the lights off to reveal colorful LED lights and a disco ball. He sighs with a pout, unable to hide the joy behind it.

"Okay, okay, party's over. We have an episode to record"

#lowkeyrobin #ghostbusters oneshot #ghostbusters x reader #ghostbusters preferences #ghostbusters afterlife #ghostbusters frozen empire #podcast ghostbusters x reader #podcast ghostbusters #podcast x reader #logan kim x reader #logan kim #gender neutral reader #gn reader #they/them reader

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podfic-pals · 1 year ago

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Just in time for the holidays, we are back with our final episode of the season. But we bring good tidings: the podfic pals will be back in 2024 for season 3! We want to take this moment to thank everyone who has listened to our episodes, the many wonderful writers who have allowed us to record their fics, and the lovely people who spread the word by reblogging our posts. You all rock! Happy holidays from the pals x

Today Mia will be reading room for your love underneath this tree (AO3 | Fic Post) by we_are_the_same (@so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed on Tumblr).

“IwannameetHarryStyles,” Daisy mumbles, and Louis blinks.

“What?”

“She says she wants to meet Harry Styles.” Phoebe pipes up, and Louis blinks again, absently switches the camera to himself because he knows that his followers will want to catch his baffled expression.

“You-” he starts, and then stops himself, because he did tell her she could ask for anything she wanted, and how can he go back on his word and tell her that he doesn’t actually have the power to make that happen?

Because Harry Styles is – he’s next level kind of famous. Louis has two million subscribers on his YouTube, but Harry has eighteen times as many followers on his Twitter alone. He’s had three number one hits in the last year, and his last album had charted at the top spot for a record breaking 27 weeks. He’s a singer, actor and philanthropist, and there is no way in hell that Louis can get him to come meet Daisy for Christmas.

So of course he laughs, even if it’s a little bit breathless, and nods at her. “One Harry Styles for Christmas, coming right up.”

As always, you can listen to our podcast on your favourite podcast app: Anchor | Spotify | Google Podcast | Apple Podcast | or you can check out the AO3 post here. You can also download the full episode here.

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ao3feed-jonmartin · 8 months ago

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Then Kiss Me

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Mutg38s by ShlynneAsh A walk through hell on an unholy roadtrip. Martin gets a little lonely, he has a hot boyfriend, and maybe they can take just a stolen moment for themselves. or Jon ducked his face down once, in a nod. “Right. Okay…” He moved away. Martin started to panic, Did I make it weird? Jon had asked! Was it weird to want to kiss your boyfriend? Martin was just about to stand and say maybe he was ready to leave after all, but Jon was sliding his backpack off. He pulled the hair band out of his hair, letting it fall down over his shoulders. Martin felt the air leave his chest. How was this man able to leave him breathless, still? “Okay…” Jon breathed, looking back at Martin’s face. “Then kiss me.” Words: 2105, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, It Needed To Be Said, Season 5 Spoilers, C im looking at you, Kissing, Flirting, the eyes special little boy <3, no beta we die like, well like a lot of characters actually, some trouble in paradise, martin is alowed to be a little bitch, he deserves it, Fluff read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Mutg38s

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #tma #jonmartin #jmart #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin fanfic

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mykingdomforapen · 10 months ago

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courage of stars, ch3 | writer's commentary

Hello all! Thank you for coming back to chapter 3! This chapter is one I was so excited to share with people, as it introduces the characters to a new setting that the story will take place for a good chunk--and it's a setting near and dear to my heart. It also contains QUITE a lot of historical background, which I might take for granted as someone growing up with the stories but may be new to another reader, so I will try to explain succinctly. Without further ado, let's get into some notes!

***

“Little chicken cookies!” he gasped. “Kai zai,” Popo said, correcting his Cantonese pronunciation. “Not muscle cookies, silly boy.” “Kai zai,” Xiaoshi repeated, although his mind was entirely elsewhere.

If I had a writer's commentary for every bit of food that these characters eat in this story, we would be here forever, so I will resist doing that. However, I just want to shout out little chicken cookies. Little chicken cookies, aka 'kai chai paeng' (or kai zai, Cantonese romanization varies), are a very Cantonese biscuit. They're originally called 'little phoenix biscuits' but I have mostly heard them be referred to as chicken biscuits. They're crispy, lightly meat-flavored, and delicious, and they are generally popularly sold in a specific historical neighborhood in Guangzhou.

“Did you know, Xiaoshi?” she murmured. “That the moon has mountains?” “It does?” Xiaoshi said incredulously. “Where? Can I see?” “Not from here,” she said. “But it has many. One of them is so tall, it’s over half the height of Everest. Do you remember learning about Everest?” Xiaoshi nodded, transfixed. “What else?” he asked. Cai Liangxing hummed. “Did you know,” she said, “that the moon gets moonquakes?” “Mooncakes?” “Silly! Moonquakes!”

Shout-out to this episode of Radiolab for all their wonderful moon facts that I learned to include in this fic. But yes, these are true facts! I highly recommend giving that episode, and that podcast as a whole, a listen, as there are just some incredible thoughts on the moon and about human curiosity. I can't recommend it enough.

“What about the rabbit?” Xiaoshi asked. “Do you think they get scared from all the shaking?” “No,” she said assuredly. “They’re there to be with their friend. So that she is never lonely. They can be brave if it helps their friend.”

The Chinese legend of Chang'Er is probably quite well known, but I'll give it a quick summary in case anyone is unfamiliar: legend has it that Chang'er, the wife of a legendary hero, was entrusted with magic pills that would make a human immortal, which were gifted to her husband. While he was away, a baddie came and try to threaten her into giving him the pills. In order to keep it from the hands of the baddie, she swallowed the pills and ascended to the moon, but she has no way of coming back home to her husband. Her pet bunny did come along though, to keep her company. Legend has it that the bunny is pounding medicine in order to concoct a pill that would reverse the effects and bring Chang'er back home to Earth. There's a shadow that is bunny-shaped on the moon if you look at it in its fullness. But this is also where Cheng Xiaoshi gets his nickname from his mother!

“Ah,” Qiao Ling said softly. “They probably didn’t want you accidentally slipping it to her.” “I guess,” Cheng Xiaoshi said, somber. “I wonder if it even helped.”

It is rather common in China that if a loved one receives a terminal diagnosis, the doctors will actually tell the loved one's family, but not the patient themselves. Then, the family will elect not to tell their loved one about the diagnosis, and instead take care of all of their health matters in a subtle way to not let their loved one know that they're actually dying. The belief behind this is that if the patient finds out that they're dying, the distress will only worsen their health, and so the family will take upon themselves the burden of the truth and do what they can to give their loved one an unburdened remainder of their days.

Peidi University

In Guangzhou, and perhaps in other cities of China but I only know about one city, older universities will also be a residential neighborhood. It's all still within campus, but there are apartment buildings and living spaces where professors, faculty, and retired staff live, right next to student dormitories and school buildings. They're usually a peaceful oasis within the city, because traffic is very controlled so there are very few vehicles driving in and out, and generally only residents and workers mill about. Retirees still have a lot of privileges on campus, and they can still access the food canteens. Peidi University, while fictional, certainly draws from real beloved places! They were also older places, long-established universities from the 1800s, so I do not know if for example the university that the trio attend in the show would have been the same setup. Theirs look a little more modern.

“And his hair was pitch black too!” another retiree piped up. “I’m starting to think you don’t like my hair, Professor,” Lu Guang chided lightly. “Oh, you know that I’m teasing,” she laughed. “You may look like Yang Xier, but you are still so genteel.”

Yang Xier is the heroine of a Chinese modern opera called The White-Haired Girl. My memories of the storyline are very vague and hazy, but what I know of it is that this young girl's father was killed (?) in front of her by enemy soldiers and she ran and hid in a cave for years. The shock and trauma then turned her hair pure white, and eventually came out of the cave and fell in love with a kind comrade or something along those lines.

Professor Lu's story

I'm not ever going to claim to be an expert on the CR. It almost feels strange of me to even try. As I've mentioned in a previous commentary, I will not claim to aim for historical accuracy, at the same time, I drew Professor Lu's stories almost entirely from oral history and I don't typically exaggerate or make something up--after all, truth is generally far more intense than fiction. There is a possibility I misunderstood, or parts of history become compounded into one.

Professor Lu does serve as like the Exposition character in this chapter, as he does have the role of tell vs show. Indeed, university campuses were pretty dire places to be during the CR, especially for a professor, especially for a physicist. Students were really passionate about this birth of New China, really championed this cause, and then sadly were swept up in the movement. As Professor Lu mentioned re: Wang Dai, not every university student would turn against their professors, but certainly many did (and, just as Professor Lu mentioned, many of them have come to apologize for it later).

Professors and academics indeed were sent to 'reform camps,' usually if not always in the countryside, to work in the farms with physical laborers. Tea farms or mountains or bricklaying are examples of them. They could be there for a year at a time, or several years. They might be allowed back to their homes for major holidays but otherwise they're living in the camps.

One had to be extremely careful about what you say or do for fear of it being interpreted as anti-Party, and then you are going to get in big trouble. Even if your intentions were absolutely not anti-Party, you can still get in big trouble. It got to the point where there was for lack of better words rampant witch hunts--people fervently turning in their neighbors, or forced to denounce their spouses, or children manipulated into turning in their parents. Sadly, a lot of people died this way, whether by the crowds or by suicide.

I know anecdotes of people walking outside of the campus and there would be bodies hanging from the trees, or buildings set on fire, etc. And technically, things in Guangzhou were tame compared to other regions. It was much worse elsewhere.

A capitalist roader, which Professor Lu mentions at one point, is someone who was perceived to be trying to hold China back from its Revolution, or try to bring China back to the ways of ye olde capitalism. Basically, someone who was in the Party but seemed to capitulate to capitalist ways or systems.

The CR is a very dense topic, and I wrote to be anecdotal rather than historical, so I don't want to try and explain why any of it happened the way it did, but rather think of what someone like Prof. Lu would have lived through in his humble life.

Sun Yihan's Story

This is where I do fudge the timeline a bit, and that's mainly because of how young Lu Guang is. Sun Yihan and LG's Grandma hunting for frogs to stave off hunger would have happened during the early 60s, because at the time of the Great Leap Forward there was a nationwide manmade famine. People had so so little food, and so I know anecdotes of family indeed hunting for frogs at the university pond for extra bites to eat whilst pregnant, but that was around the early 60s. Lu Guang is quite young though, and I reckon his dad is born later than that. So this is a part where I muck up the timeline. That isn't to say that people wouldn't have been hungry in the late 60s or early 70s, because there was still some heavy rationing of food all the way up to like, the 80s so people didn't have all that much access too food (hence how in chapter 1, one of the characters mentions that they only have chicken once a year, and meat only about twice a week). There very well may have been frog-hunting as a mean to survive. But I want to be transparent about where my stories are coming from.

“Han Ge, your face is like Buddha,” little Lin laughed once. She wiggled her finger over Sun Yihan’s birthmark. “What if they chop your head off too?”

Buddhism wasn't really acceptable during the CR. Temples and Buddha statues were among the casualties of destroyed historical or cultural relics during the CR, hence little Lin's childish comment.

And, within that millisecond, Lu Tianbao was pierced with what he had long tried to forget. A memory that he never reopened, but instead let it rattle and howl like a ghost in a haunted hall. The memory of when he was ten years old when Japanese soldiers grabbed his uncle by the hair and dragged him to the edge of the Pearl River, where three other men shivered at gunpoint. They tied him with a rope to the doomed men, tight around the waist and only an arm’s width apart.

We take another look back at the Japanese invasion of China here, with Professor Lu's memories. There was an incident where the Japanese soldiers tied Chinese men together, where one of those men could not swim, and then threw them all into the waters. The one drowning man dragged all of them down, and so they all drowned.

The Library

Book-burning and book-banning was, of course, prevalent in China's modern history. Western physicists would not have been smiled upon and would have likely been tossed into the refuse pile. Other banned books included Chinese classic novels, European novels...basically, anything that wasn't written by Mao or by Russian Communists were on thin ice. And while people were tasked to toss out those books, those who appreciated them would sneakily read them all beforehand. After all, no one's going to bother you when you've got the library to yourself.

Einstein's quote mentioned in the story is from a letter he wrote to someone, so frankly it is dicey how accessible that quote would have been to a Chinese person in the 70s. However, it was a good quote, and relevant, so I used it.

Gosh, that was a lot of notes, and I KNOW that I was purposely vague or brief. I don't mean to be blase as to dismiss anyone's desire to learn, but I want to emphasize I'm not the word of truth, and also I want to be mindful of how I explain things since the internet is quite public, and I would like to avoid causing trouble. But, I really hope that this adds to your reading experience. These historical and cultural contexts are going to be important for other aspects of this story, so I do appreciate you reading through this and hope that they all make sense. Happy to talk on DM if you have questions or want details! Thank you so much!

#LC writes #stars commentary

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