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fangirl-dot-com · 30 days ago

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🕸 With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility

Driver: Oscar Piastri Genre: SMAU/Fluff Occupation: Actor

☆ TAG LIST IS CLOSED ☆

oscarpiastri2013 has posted

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oscarpiastri2013 just hanging around set 🤟😁

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user1 oh my gosh he's such a loser....perfect for peter parker

user13 UHHGGG I WANT TO SEE THE SUIT - ALL WE'VE SEEN IS THE OLD ONE FROM CIVIL WAR 👹

flickthewrist still waiting for him to meet y/n l/n 🥱

user40 who's y/n and why is she important?

flickthewrist she's a formula 1 rookie driving for mclaren (which happens to be Oscar's favorite team) 🤭

user40 hmmmm might have to look into it!

robertdowneyjr you're crushing it kid! 💪

oscarpiastri2013 learned from the best 🥳

user2 YOUR HONOR I LOVE HIM ALREADY

lewishamilton my nephews are already waiting to see the movie

user77 WHAT THE HELL IS A POLAR BEAR DOING IN ARLINGTON TEXAS????

landonorris oohhhh ok I see the appeal y/n81

y/n81 YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO TAG ME WHAT THE HECK DUDE I HATE YOU

maxverstappen1 we were tired of hearing about him from you

y/n81 WHY ARE YOU ALSO HERE??? GO AWAY??? I KNOW WHERE YOU HIDE YOU SNACKS 😀

user33 my worlds are colliding and I'm not ready for it 🧍‍♀️

y/n81 has posted

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y/n81 YES TEAM, P-WAAANNN BABY - THIS IS EVERYTHING I'VE BEEN DREAMING OF AND YOU'VE MADE IT POSSIBLE! I'M NOW ADDICTED TO THE TOP STEP 🧡

SUCK IT LANDO 🫵😌

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user3 I'm definitely NAWT crying like I actually know her in person but I'm so proud!

user91 PAPAYA 1-2 FINISH OH I USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS!! 🙏

landonorris ...suck it....lando?? 👁👄👁

y/n81 YES SUCK IT

landonorris charles_leclerc pls come get your gremlin - I don't want her as a teammate anymore 🧍‍♀️

charles_leclerc I fear she became your problem back in march, I'm keeping my peace

landonorris is that code word for sucking max's d-

y/n81 HEY NOW LET'S NOT IN MY WINNING POST

charles_leclerc norris you better watch your back next race 😀

landonorris I feel threatened and I don't like it

user45 so underserved - if you can't win without your teammate being told to swap positions then you don't deserve it

user82 kindly shut up 😚

oscarpiastri2013 👏 amazing race!

y/n81 THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU (I'm totally normal about this)

maxverstappen1 did she just scream from her motor home??

landonorris yep. get the ear plugs ready.

user57 this is just the beginning of l/n domination - it could bore the fans

oscarpiastri2013 has posted

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oscarpiastri2013 I am so very thankful to have been invited to the McLaren garage to witness another spectacular win from Y/n!

(also thank you to the nice worker who lent me a team polo after spilling coffee down my shirt 😁)

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user47 SOMEONE PINCH ME I'M DREAMING

user91 is the movie done filming?? he seems like he's had a lot of time on his hands??

flickthewrist filming ends in a couple of months and then there will be the premier!

user91 thank you!

y/n81 I'm beginning to think you might be lucky

landonorris you seem quite tame?

maxverstappen1 oh she's not. she's about to hyperventilate and Charles is freaking out

charles_leclerc SOMEONE TELL HER TO BREATHE?? HER FACE IS THE SAME COLOR AS THE SPIDER-MAN SUIT!!!!!

oscarpiastri2013 I will have to 🕸stick🕸 around then!

y/n81 AHAHAHAHA STICK THAT'S SO FUNNY YOU'RE SO COOL

charles_leclerc yeah she just fell out of her chair 🧍‍♀️

chrisevans kid you need to get back to set

robertdowneyjr evans here decided to set fire to the microwave

oscarpiastri2013 fine 🙄

user22 is anyone else ever confused as to WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON IN THE COMMENTS??

lewishamilton I've just decided to roll with it ☕️

user72 finally, a race that showed off y/n's talents! no team orders this time!!

maxverstappen1 has posted

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maxverstappen1 didn't know air-max was part-time baby sitting that includes nap time

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user38 this is actually hilarious

user4 this just shows that lando can indeed fall asleep anywhere :D

user88 ARE WE JUST GOING TO IGNORE THAT Y/N IS LITERALLY SLEEPING ON SOMEONE??

charles_leclerc they're going to be so pissed when they wake up

maxverstappen1 they sleep on my plane, I get black mail 😈

danielricciardo I fear for my life

maxverstappen1 you should ☺️

robertdowneyjr pls bring the kid back in one piece?? Jon will kill me if he's not

maxverstappen1 👍

user79 DOES THIS MEAN OSCAR IS ON AIRMAX?? IS HE SLEEPING?? IS HE THE ONE BENEATH Y/N?? ANSWERS PEOPLE I NEED ANSWERS

mclaren just a pair of sleepy teammates 🧡

maxverstappen1 the bill is $1,203,206 for daycare

mclaren I'm just the admin 🧍‍♀️

user37 ok but Oscar and y/n together would be so cute!!

f1wags has posted

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f1wags so after some recent (very recent) activity between y/n and Oscar, I felt like he needed a little introduction IF he's going to be the newest wag to the paddock!

oscar jack piastri is an australian actor now most known for his role as Peter Parker in the MCU. he made his debut two years ago in Captain America Civil War and now fans are debating if he's the best spiderman yet! the perfect mix of boy-next-door Peter with a sarcastic side behind the iconic mask! Spiderman Homecoming is set to release in theaters January 5, 2025 (two years after the announcement of the movie).

His other roles include The Impossible, In the Heart of the Sea, and The Lost City of Z.

His interests outside of Formula 1 include cricket and chess.

Although there hasn't been an official announcement from either Y/n or Oscar, their friendship so far has been fun to see. Oscar would be Y/n's first boyfriend (as she has previously stated that she has had no time to date due to trying to work toward a full-time Formula 1 seat).

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f1gossipgirl I am INVETSTED IN THEIR RELATIONSHIP

user2 what is max doing in the likes???

maxverstappen1 shhhhh I'm on a secret mission 🕵️

charles_leclerc it's not a very good secret mission SINCE YOU COMMENTED ABOUT IT

landonorris someone free me from these two I BEG

user84 y/n has also been a fan of Oscar's since The Impossible :)

user8 awwww first boyfriend 🥹 Oscar better not hurt her in anyway or there will be blood

oscarpiastri2013 .....dully noted 🧍‍♀️

user92 I need y/n to be invited to the premier!!!

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y/n81 my spider-boy 🕷❤️

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user30 I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT AHAHAHAHA

user92 I'm glad they just decided to hard-launch after max soft-launched for them

charles_leclerc YES FERRARI RED 👏 SO PROUD

landonorris this is betrayal at it's finest - you WILL be hearing from my lawyers

y/n81 I'm surprised you know what that word is

landonorris ya know what? I'm glad that osco has taken you off my hands

user94 LANDO ALREADY HAS A NICKNAME FOR OSCAR I'M DYING

user84 y/n is SLAYING IN THE SPIDER-MAN RED

charles_leclerc *ferrari red 😌

oscarpiastri2013 my spider-girl 🥺

y/n81 I'm glad you didn't pass out while we tried to do the kiss

oscarpiastri2013 it's not like I hang upside down for a living or anything :)

maxverstappen1 you're welcome for that picture by the way. I still want compensation 🙄

oscarpiastri2013 you can be in the next film?

maxverstappen1 done.

charles_leclerc I WANNA BE IN THE NEXT FILM?? LOOK AT THIS FACE - IT DESERVES TO BE ON THE BIG SCREEN - MAX TELL THEM

landonorris please, for everything that is good and holy on this planet, GO AWAY

user33 I'm still confused as to what is GOING ON

lewishamilton just sit back and sip

user81 THEY DID THE KISS

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bunny-jpeg · 5 months ago

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bunny, dearest!! i’ve truly been craving some spicier brownies lately, perhaps with a side of coffee. oh, and a mocha, too, for max ☕️ xx

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! there's tons of options to choose from! so please, check it out! i also accept prompts outside of f1! i've recently added some new prompts, so i hope you enjoy them! as for this anon, thank you for the lovely request! it's a lot of chocolate (yum)! i hope you enjoy!

and check out the master-list

brownies ("you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours.") + coffee (rivals au) + mocha (breeding kink) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, ferrari driver!reader, breeding kink, pregnancy, dirty talk, rough sex, mean!max, doggy style

max had his fair share of rivals. from being the best along side lewis hamilton to the childhood rivalry he shared with charles leclerc. while he was able to brush those off, laughing about how it was all in good fun. part of the game was to be able to go wheel to wheel with another driver.

you, on the other hand. ferrari's little trail blazer. needed to be put in your goddamn places. especially when you made him dnf at the dutch grand prix.

"you're a bitch."

"and you apparently don't know how drive." you shoved max away from you. you could feel the anger radiating off of him.

"they should've never let you on the track. not when you're driving like a madwoman. they should revoke your license, you bitch."

this was the face of mad max. the stubborn, aggressive, almost insane driver that they let on the track at seventeen. but you held your ground as you spat back, "aw, is someone made that daddy was watching you spin out? is that why you're getting in my goddamn face you fucking prick!"

max could feel his lip twitch. he grabbed you by the front of your ferrari shirt and kissed you deeply. you were both in your hotel room, which max bulled himself into. now you were pressed against the back of the door with max's hands digging into the front of the shirt.

there was a moment of silence, the two of you looking at one another. two rivals till the bitter end. then it happened. you kissed one another with a hot fever.

when you pulled away, you saw the tension leave his shoulders. you said, "you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours." then ran your thumb across his soft lips, "is that all you needed? a kiss. what are you twelve?"

he exhaled deeply through his nose before he said, "no, i need to fuck you." then he took your shirt from the bottom and started to get you undressed.

sneakers kicked off by the door. your shirt over the couch, his jeans thrown in the direction of the window. your panties ended up over the nightstand and the rest of your clothes were in various places around the room.

max had you pinned under him, your ass up against his hard cock. the rush of today's race still sparked in your minds as he rubbed his achy cock against your wet cunt.

"you're a bad girl." he said.

"oh yeah? what does that make you, verstappen? god of the track? coming to give me salvation?" you groaned as he he pushed his achy cock inside of you. you exhaled deeply and arched your back.

he chuckled as he sank in all the way, his breath came through his teeth, "yeah. i am." he sounded almost cocky and it made a shiver run through you. he watched you hold onto the white sheets of the hotel bed. you felt good.

you have had sex before. this wasn't a new thing for either of you. he had multiple times buried his cock into your pussy and fucked you until the headboard put a dent in the wall. until the likes of your teammate (max's other rival) was banging on the shared wall to get you to shut up.

max's grip was possessive, there was little tenderness between you two as he rutted against you. he could feel the heat bloom in his face as he curved over you. making sure that his cock got into the softest parts of you. he was going to make sure that he kept you under him. and off the track, not when you felt this good against him.

your pretty cunt clung to him like a vice as he felt the heat flare up to his ears. he panted heavily like a dog as you whined in response like something more needy. his pace was erratic and the throb in his chest was noticeable. it all felt so hot and it burned both of you.

"you look good under me. where you belong. right at the bottom of the grid." he laughed, a little darkness to his tone. he could feel the sweat on the back of his neck as he continued to move. it all felt painfully hot for him.

you hissed between heavy thrusts and gripped onto the covers under you. you replied, "i want to see your downfall, verstappen."

he chuckled and kissed at you neck. he held onto you tightly and pressed more of his weight onto you. he said, "right, right. you want me to crash, you want me to retire. i've heard it all. but, i'm not retiring." he kissed the shell of your ear and said softly, "you are though."

"in your dreams." you arched your back a little bit. you panted heavily, "not until i get my world championship."

max snickered to himself as he continued to move against you. moving your hips alongside his cock. you gasped into the covers at the sensation and knew that your career was going to be swift and short. after all, who was going to take care of his baby?

he didn't want to leave his child with you alone with nannies. no, they had to be with their mother. which meant hanging up the helmet and picking up toys. the thought excited him as he continued to bully his cock up against your pussy.

he let himself indulge in your sweetness. it all felt so good.

"you're a sick fuck." you whined, "next time i'll make sure you dnf again. i'm going to snatch that trophy out of your hand."

he pressed himself up against, you almost bending you in half. his weight left you squirming pathetically under him. he chuckled, "right, right." he almost laughed at the thought. you with the world champion trophy.

the only thing you were going to be a champion at the end of this season was how good you could take max's cock. but that's alright, if you do a good job, he'll get you a little trophy.

you groaned into the covers soon after, the pleasure washed over you. and you almost hit your fist against the covers. you felt the heat in your brain as you groaned into the pillows. max only took it as a sign to fuck you harder. he watched your ass bounce as he fucked you with a renewed energy. when he came he grit his teeth and panted heavily against you.

he could feel his cock throb inside of you as he came. cum being spat out into the back of your womb. part of him prayed that this time it would take. but then again, you two had a whole rest of the season to make that happen.

you may not be getting your trophy at the end of the year. but max will let you kiss it after he holds it over his head. he had to be a good husband after all.

"you're insane if you think i'm wearing the red bull logo." you held your head high. your arms crossed over your chest.

max crowded into your space with one of his shirts in hand. he said lowly, "well the ferrari ones aren't fitting anymore are they?"

you placed a hand on the middle of his chest to get him to step back. you said, "i can always ask charles or lewis to give me a new size." you were currently almost seven months pregnant with your first child.

apparently the hate fuck after the dutch grand prix resulted in a little accident. in the heat of it all and the insanity of the week's race, you were basically without protection. and thus the next generation of racer was conceive.

even though you and max were about to get married, you refused to wear the gaudy colours of red bull. just because you retired early to have you son, didn't mean you were max's kept woman. you already had plans to work with mercedes after the birth of your son. anything but red bull.

he reached for your belly and gave it a rub, "just make my life easier."

you stepped towards him, now crowding his space. you took him by the jaw and made him look at you. you chuckled a little, it was amusing, "max, if you wanted a woman that wasn't going to bust your balls. then you shouldn't have gotten your rival pregnant."

even as his future wife, you still got under his skin. as he wrapped his strong arms around you, he said, "you're going to be the death of me."

you smiled at him, "good, i bet the insurance check will be lovely." <3

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digitalgirlguide · 6 months ago

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WHY AREN'T YOU DATING YOURSELF TOO?

As I sat sipping my morning coffee, I couldn't help but wonder: why do we often wait for someone else to take us on a romantic date when the perfect partner has been there all along—ourselves?

We get so caught up in chasing love from others we often forget that sometimes that you can give yourself the love you need too.

There’s something soooo empowering about falling in love with your own presence. I mean why wouldn't I want to hangout with myself? I'm amazing, fun and smell good too.

When you take yourself out, you're not just spending time alone— you're setting the standard for yourself everytime you get dressed up and go to that fancy restaurant, everytime you grab your tote bag and favourite runners and go exploring in your city, or even monthly spa visits to pamper yourself. make your solo dates pop so you don't settle for less when it comes to romantic partners and platonic friendships

Physical Solo Date Ideas

Sunset Beach Walk: Slip into your cutest sundress and wander along the beach as the sun sets. You could even pack yourself some of your fave sparkling drinks and some fruits! and everybody always feels better after they spend some time by the water.

Picnic in the Park: Pack a basket with your favorite snacks, a cozy blanket, and a good book. Find a shady spot under a tree 🍓📖

Yoga in the Garden: Roll out your mat in your backyard or a nearby garden. Breathe in the fresh air and stretch your body 🧘‍♀️🌸

Gallery Hopping: Spend an afternoon exploring local art galleries. Take your time admiring each piece and journal about it after 🖼️

Stargazing Night: On a clear night, lay out a blanket in your backyard or a quiet park and look up at the stars ✨

Food Solo Date Ideas

Café Hopping: Spend a day exploring cafés in your city and act like the main character in a sitcom or romcom. My fave thing about cafe's is people watching and making up storylines about people. ☕️

Gourmet Dinner for One: Dress up and take yourself to that fancy restaurant you’ve been eyeing. Put on that dress you've been "saving for a special occasion" and order yourself the whole bottle! 🍷

Baking Adventure: Try out a new baking recipe and create some new sweet treats, whatever you have leftover you can share with your girls 🥮🍪🍰

Farmers’ Market Feast: Visit a local farmers’ market and pick out fresh, seasonal ingredients. Then, head home and cook a delicious, wholesome meal just for you.

Ice Cream Parlor Indulgence: Treat yourself to a visit to an ice cream parlor.

Remember, darling, you're the star of your own show. Every moment spent with yourself is a chance to fall head over heels for the fabulous person you are. So, slip into that cute outfit, step out with all the confidence of a city girl in stilettos, and let the world bask in your glow.

After all, the greatest romance you'll ever have is the one you create within yourself.

#it girl #that girl #self care #dream girl #self love #girlblogging #becoming that girl #pink pilates girl #solo date #date night #date yourself too #self love reminders #self love club #digitalgirlguide

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 10 months ago

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DEAR SPRING, STAY FOREVER ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO, SHOKO IEIRI

synopsis; just another mellow breakfast shared between you and your lovers, in the wake of a new spring.

word count; 3.8k

contents; sashisu/reader (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, all of u are whipped, lots of petnames, literally just breakfast fluff, it ended up kinda sugucentric on accident (not my fault btw he just really loves making breakfast for u that’s on him), also ended up kinda sappy at the end (that’s on me), implied no curses au, they’re in their twenties but it isn’t specified, everyone is eepy and in love <33

a/n; a little breakfast fic bc i love mornings and i love them :33 (tagging my beloved sashisu soldiers @catchuuu @staryukis i am making breakfast for both of u btw ☕️🥞) pls listen to spring thief by yorushika it’s the most sashisu song ever

as always, suguru is the first of you to make it into the kitchen.

he’s humming. it’s soft, a low lull of his voice, beckoning you closer like the call of a siren. sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, fiddling with a pan, sizzling and simmering and breathing in the scent of pancakes; it pairs well with the espresso steam from the coffee pot to his right, the vase of hydrangeas by the windowsill.

it’s a sunny morning. the perfect setting for the start of your day, an atmosphere you can savour, like the gradual sipping of your soon-to-be morning cup of coffee. somewhere outside your vision comes a morning symphony, chirps and songs by cicadas and robins. splotches of sunlight splatter against the windows, the kitchen table, the floorboards — illuminating the man in front of the stove.

something in your chest constricts, when you look at him. a tenderness uprooted, a fondness watered and trimmed, a hungry plant only satiated at the sight of this; the back of his head, raven locks cascading down his broad shoulders in obsidian waves, hair put up into a lazy half-down bun. a little messy, a little too breathtaking for words. wearing a black turtleneck that hugs his waist just right.

you should be used to it, by now. suguru has always been an early bird, always the first to rouse from his slumber, only ever contended by shoko and her occasional bouts of sleep-deprivation. he’s always waiting for the three of you, just like this — in front of a sizzling pan, adjusting his glasses by the kitchen table, cooking or reading or simply reminiscing. content to stir in the peace and quiet of the morning hours, before the world wakes up.

and he’s always taken to preparing breakfast for the four of you, always ready to greet you with a smile and a cup of freshly made cappuccino. he enjoys taking care of you, all three of you. always has.

(it wasn’t any different back when you were kids. suguru was always the first one in the dormitory’s kitchen, messing with the rusty french press or making a grossly bitter smoothie for himself. he was snarkier, more roundabout — but no less thoughtful. grumpy little shoko would always get the last bitter pumps of espresso, and sleepy little satoru would get a french toast if he asked nicely enough. and you?

you got to see them, be with them. that alone would’ve been enough. the steaming cup of cappuccino left on the kitchen counter — a little too tailored to your taste to be a mere coincidence — was always nothing more than an added bonus.)

the soft humming falters, for no more than a beat or two. suguru shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and suddenly you can’t resist the temptation.

with clumsy steps, heavy feet weighed down by a sleepy sense of numbness, you stumble towards your target. it’s a familiar waltz, five steps to reach him, a warmth that spreads throughout your body in tandem with the curl of your arms around his waist. slumped against him, cheek squished against his upper back, you hold your breath.

silently, you wait. one, two, until you hear the familiar roll of his breath; a delighted little sigh that slips from his parted lips.

when suguru cranes his head to get a glimpse of you, his amber eyes are leaking adoration. a sense of liveliness, a joyous spark — like a firefly, the flicker of a rusty lighter. he looks well-rested, dark circles long faded, only the dimmest remnant of them still visible beneath his eyes.

he holds your gaze, steady and kind, and then he’s leaning forward; eager to press his lips against your waiting forehead. glasses slipping ever so slightly down the bridge of his nose. the kiss is chaste, familiar. warm, warm, a faint heat that simmers in your chest, a tiny firework of a feeling. even the metal of his piercing feels warm on your skin.

you melt into his spine, fingers searching for a pair of hands that find yours first — his thumb rubbing tender circles over your forearm. practiced, memorized, that familiar waltz of motions. he lingers against your skin, breathing in satoru’s favorite strawberry shampoo. you’ve been stealing it for weeks now.

suguru’s lips curl up into something amused, still not quite willing to part from you.

but then he does. turning towards the stove, reaching for the coffee pot with one hand, the other securing your own and lacing your fingers together. he gives them an affectionate squeeze, still resting on his lower stomach. a silent greeting that he always ends up voicing anyway.

”g’morning, love,” he croons, a little raspy, but sweet and nice. honeyed and deep, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. you hear him pour something into a cup. ”how did you sleep?”

all you can give him is a tired grunt, stretching your limbs out, blinking sluggishly to shoo away the drowsiness. suguru knows what to expect; he simply smiles, endeared, pouring steamed milk into your favorite cup. with a clink of his spoon against the ceramic, he adds the foam, stirring it carefully.

then he’s shifting his weight, angling his face towards yours, and pressing the rim of the cup against your lips — not before blowing on it gently. he watches as your eyelids flutter, waiting for the hum of contentment he’ll hear once you have your first sip. and he gets it. the rich aroma stirs you into a more awakened state, and a single taste of the creamy foam has you standing up a little straighter, humming in sleepy delight. suguru smiles, crow’s feet hidden behind his glasses.

you accept the cup with a grateful squeeze of his palm, and he makes sure it’s steady in your hold before he faces forward again. another sip, and your throat feels a little less dry, your mind a lot less sluggish. so you answer his previous question.

”… slept well,” another tiny sip. it’s hot, warming you up from the inside. ”i would’ve preferred waking up to you, though...”

a low chuckle bubbles up in your boyfriend’s throat. it makes you want to pout, but you smile instead. traitorous lips.

he’s looking at you again, unable to help himself, reaching over to brush some loose strands of hair away from your face. ”aw, ’m sorry,” he coos, teasingly, sickeningly sweet. ”but then you wouldn’t have woken up to a fresh cup of coffee, hm?”

now you really are pouting. he shifts, until you're standing chest to chest, and kisses it away. twice, for good measure. he must be in a good mood.

he usually is, at this time of year. when the air starts smelling of honeydew and snowdrops, and he’s awoken by barking dogs, luscious sunbeams splattered on soft bedsheets, the pitter patter of sudden spring rain. when the apricot trees outside your apartment complex begin to bloom; a flurry of sickly-white kisses pressed against your windows, sticking to the locks of your hair. it gives him an excuse to run his fingers through it. even when shoko whines for him to cut it out, and satoru purposefully shakes the branches to make the tiny white petals even harder to find. he must like having his hair ruffled like a misbehaving dog.

they make suguru sigh and sigh, exasperated, but there’s always a smile waiting somewhere out of view. he’s not very good at hiding it.

(he likes the apricot trees. likes watching them change shape, colour, likes waiting for them to wither and blossom and turn into fruit.

once they’re ripe enough to pick, i’ll make marmalade for us.)

the morning waltz continues. while suguru continues to flip his pancakes, you sleepily decide to set the table. fondness erupts behind his eyelids at the gesture, small as it is. you stand on your tiptoes to reach the highest shelf, just to grab satoru’s favorite mug; one you all got him for his 19th birthday, a heartfelt message of world’s okayest boyfriend etched into the front. it was meant to make him pout and whine, but you’ve never seen him drink out of anything else at home.

you place the cup on the table with a soft thunk, along with plates and cutlery. suguru has already brought down a cup for shoko, seated on the kitchen counter next to him, soon to be filled with the same rich espresso he always drinks. he’s waiting until she joins you both, so it doesn’t end up going lukewarm. there’s nothing shoko hates more. you can practically hear that grumpy scoff, see her cute little frown.

your sleep schedules differ from day to day. suguru is always up early, satoru always sleeps in. shoko fluctuates between the two. you usually end up rousing from your slumber whenever the bed starts feeling a little too empty — a fact you doubt they’ll ever quit teasing you about.

that differs from day to day, too. sometimes you sleep with suguru, sometimes the other two, sometimes all three. you have your separate rooms, but always end up with your limbs intertwined one way or another; even if one of you comes home late or falls asleep on the couch watching tv. satoru can’t sleep without hugging someone, and suguru can’t fall asleep unless he knows you’re all sleeping well. shoko isn’t picky, but you know she feels safest when she’s linking elbows with you, or touching pinkies with suguru, or snoozing on top of satoru’s chest like a weighted blanket. as for you…

you’ve gotten way too used to their touch to ever go without it. last night, you ended up in suguru’s room, tucked underneath his chin, while satoru snuck into shoko’s bed to convince her not to pull another all-nighter. you’re assuming it worked.

”mm, smells good. you makin’ pancakes?”

a bubbly, groggy voice spills into the air, just as a light breeze flits in through the window. soothing, refreshing. you turn your gaze towards its source.

and there they are. sleepy satoru, and grumpy shoko, the former clinging to the latter like an overgrown koala. satoru seems to be in high spirits, calling out to you with a smile, blue eyes glimmering like a sunny sky; but you can tell he’s tired by the way he’s stretching out his limbs, only wearing a pair of pyjama pants. and shoko is silent, blinking drowsily, twitching when his loud voice buzzes in her ear. she makes no move to push him away.

suguru gazes at them with a smile, in tandem with you, nothing but fond. loving, in the way the amber of his eyes gleams and swirls with promises of something everlasting. he’s a little intense, honestly. but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

and, admittedly, your sleepy little partners are a sight for sore eyes.

shoko meets your gaze, and finally decides to shake off the man with an arm over her shoulder. said man huffs, but makes no move to follow her when she stumbles into your arms.

her limbs find their way around your midriff, her chin to the curve of your shoulder. her hair is loose, almost as long as suguru’s, messy and brushing against your cheek. your hand goes to smooth down her back, the fabric of her oversized shirt, soft and laced with the scent of laundry detergent. she yawns, right by your ear, lips jutted out into a small pout, and something in your chest returns. a hungry plant, drinking up her raspy voice, the glimpse you get of that mole beneath her eye. her stretch marks, when she pulls away and her shirt rides up enough to expose her thighs. little lightning bolts.

”morning,” you chirp. she presses a tiny kiss against your cheek, dangerously close to your lips; sometimes you think she does it just to tease you.

”hey, how come i didn’t get a morning kiss?”

shoko turns her head, finding satoru’s accusing stare. he’s pouting, tilting his head, already making his way over to suguru. but she only rolls her eyes.

”you’re such a baby.”

”you know you love me!”

suguru stifles a puff of laughter, leaning back against the kitchen counter, elbows resting on the marble. watching his partners with barely contained delight. satoru notices, grinning softly, throwing his arms around his boyfriend’s neck.

satoru’s kisses are always sloppy. you hear that drawn out mwah! even without looking at the pair, even without seeing his lips against suguru’s jaw. a phantom warmth sprouts on your skin.

”good morning, handsome,” he purrs, low and rumbling through his chest, pressed flush against suguru’s — their heartbeats mingling together. soft skin against smooth fabric. there’s mischief in those aquamarine eyes, something teasing, and it makes suguru want to return the favour.

”good morning, baby,” he presses his lips against satoru’s cheek. voice muffled against his soft skin, silky and deep. ”you kinda smell.”

a moment passes. the calm before the storm.

satoru blinks, barely registering shoko’s dry chuckle from behind him — and then furrows his eyebrows together like an irritated cat. a scandalized noise builds up at the base of his throat, and he glares at the man in front of him, frustration only growing when he notices that suguru isn’t returning the favour. his gaze is still fond, like an artist admiring a marble statue, drinking in his pouty boyfriend’s fluffy hair and droopy eyes and rosy lips. flattering, but the damage has been done.

”oh, i see how it is,” he withdraws his arms and takes a step back, crossing them with a hmph. ”bullying your sweet boyfriend first thing in the morning, huh? have you no shame?”

”sorry. you just look really bulliable today.”

another offended little noise. he turns on his heel, messy strands of hair swaying with the movement, glaring at shoko instead. ”unbelievable. i feel neglected in this household.”

you huff out a breathy laugh, taking a seat by the kitchen table while your lovers bicker. sipping from your cappuccino in silence, soaking up the mellow morning mood. until you feel satoru staring at you; eyes like marbles, big and bright, rich with mirth. his pout fades away, and he closes in on you with a smile. troubles forgotten.

before you can greet him, he’s leaning down to leave a fat kiss on your forehead — messy, uncoordinated, but loving. a coo on the tip of his tongue. when he’s this close you can see his dimples, those tiny freckles that only come out in the light of the sun.

you feel him smile against your skin, pulling back to speak. parting his pretty, glossy lips. ”and good morning to you, my dearest.”

he’s silly.

your lips bloom into a sweet grin, honeyed nectar on your teeth. he’s illuminated by the light streaming in through the window, a little disheveled, with his cute bedhead and bare chest exposed. a giggle slips from your lips, and your voice carries a melodic lilt, coming out as a soft croon. ”good morning, sunshine.”

satoru blinks. just once, before the telltale signs of his excitement start to show; his face brightening, breaking out into a cheshire grin, something sweet in the way his eyes crinkle. like folded origami, like messily cut fruit. citrusy and smooth.

before you can protest, those strong arms are reaching around your waist — hoisting you up into his arms with a coo of c’mere. he spins you around, just once or twice, and chuckles at the way you let out a sleepy yelp. even after stilling, he doesn’t put you down, only guiding your legs to wrap around his middle; his naked chest and muscles pressed flush against you. he’s warm, one large palm on your back and the other on your thigh. he touches you like it’s muscle memory, every ridge and dip, every part of you he’s already long mapped out. honestly, you don’t understand how he can get so excited this early in the morning.

but who are you to complain, when it means getting smothered like this?

”oh, and i smell great, by the way,” he suddenly huffs, directed at the partners behind him. he’s quick to smile down at you, tilting his head and searching for approval. ”don’t i, baby?”

for a second, you’re tempted to join in on the teasing. some part of you wants to. unfortunately, it loses against the parts of you still mesmerized by the splotches of white inside his pretty eyes, those cute little freckles. so you nod.

”yeah,” you breathe. inhaling, taking him in, sunlight and strawberries and laundry detergent. ”you smell like spring.”

his smile continues to blossom, turning sweeter by the minute. brighter than the sun. he throws a victorious glance behind him, delighting in the simultaneous roll of their eyes — before finally putting you back down. he wastes no time in plopping down on the seat to your right, dragging your chair closer to his, until they’re pressed against each other. curling a leg around yours. so clingy in the morning.

suguru and shoko are quick to join you. they blink slowly, sipping on their cups of espresso, a rich aroma spreading throughout the kitchen. it blends well with the plates of pancakes suguru scoots towards you, drizzled with the syrup satoru likes. he’s attentive, making sure you’re all comfortable, rising to his feet when shoko asks for a single cube of sugar. she’s started to mellow out a bit, no longer as grumpy, soothed by the bitter taste on her tongue. and satoru keeps your leg locked in place beneath the table.

it’s hard not to feel nostalgic, like this. when spring is blooming just outside your window, when all three of them are just the same as you remember. some things have changed, sure, but they’re still so unapologetically them. loud voices, rude eye-rolls, teasing comments and all.

they munch on their pancakes, sip on their coffee, and you chat about what to do when you all get home. what movie to watch, what food to order, what food to make because suguru doesn’t think you’ve been eating enough homemade meals lately. bickering and bantering. smiling.

(it feels like high school every day.)

shoko is the first to leave. she glances at the clock on the wall and stutters out a string of curse words, a mutter about being late. suguru plays dumb when she accuses him of not reminding her on purpose. she kisses you again, right under your jaw, and lets her clingy boyfriends give her one kiss each on the lips — despite her protests that they’ll mess up her lipstick. then she’s heading out.

”goodbye, doctor!” satoru calls, cheery even as your girlfriend rolls her pretty eyes.

”don’t call me that yet,” she snorts, adjusting her scarf. ”there’s still a good chance i’ll drop out. or cheat my way to a doctorate.”

so she says, but you all know her. you catch that glimmer of amusement in her eyes, something smug in the way she straightens her back. a little embarrassed, maybe. but the faith you have in her makes her glow.

then it’s satoru’s turn. he’s whinier, about it, ignoring the alarms on his phone on purpose. suguru has to bribe him, promising him kikufuku and take-out and an extra tight hug when he gets home. only then does he get up from his seat, untangling his leg with yours.

”do i have to?”

”yes, you do,” suguru tuts. ”the kids have an exam today. be responsible.”

another pout. but he listens, slipping on his sunglasses, putting on a coat and stealing a sip of your coffee that only makes him grimace. he has you both kiss the taste away, and you indulge him, because he’s silly and stupid and yours.

and then it’s just you and suguru. he has a day off, and you don’t have to leave until later. the kitchen falls silent, back to a mellow morning rhythm, that quiet waltz of motions and sunshine. suguru pours you more coffee, gazing at you from across the table, and you thank him with a smile. he adjusts his glasses and flips through the morning newspaper; absently, you wonder if shoko and satoru would’ve teased him for it.

what the four of you have is an odd arrangement. but that’s what all of you are, anyway; a little odd.

and as you sit there, serenaded by cicadas and morning birds, senses caressed by cappuccino foam and apricot blossoms and a hand holding yours over the table… you think to yourself that even if everything shattered around you — if the earth stopped spinning or the stars crashed through the roof of your apartment — you’d probably still keep on living. you’d do it, if only to continue chewing on these memories, these mornings, like savouring the faded flavour of an old piece of gum. over and over again, until you can’t tell where your teeth end and where the gum begins, so that you’ll always be able to taste it on your tongue. for the rest of your life.

it’s melodramatic, yes, but they are too. you’re sure suguru is pondering a sentiment even more dramatic, right now, even heavier with devotion. something so sappy you’d have to hide your face in your hands and beg him to stop talking.

and, lo and behold, he suddenly speaks up.

“are you happy?”

the question breaks you out of your silent stupor. you look up from your plate, his amber eyes already taking you in, drowning you in fondness. he’s smiling, and he’s looking at you like you’re spring personified. the silver of his lip piercing catches the light of the sun. a couple apricot petals are stuck in his hair, woven between his raven locks.

you blink. inside your chest, something unfurls, twists and turns, grows and withers all at once. a whole garden of love, just for them.

you lean forward, elbows on the table, and brush through his bangs. petal caught between your fingertips. when you lean back, you’re smiling.

“yeah,” you answer, truthfully. inhaling the scent of spring. “i’m always happy when i’m with you.”

a breeze caresses your cheek, your hands, and the whole apartment smells of apricots. suguru seems pleased, returning to his cup of lukewarm coffee, a little clink of ceramic against porcelain that strikes you as distinctly heavenly.

soon, you’ll have to leave. you’ll have to manage without their jokes and banter and touches, without them, for a grueling number of hours, one tortuous lecture after another. but they’ll be waiting once you get back — and tomorrow, you’ll have breakfast again, just like this. forever and ever. you never want the coffee to run out, never want the apricot trees to wither. you want to stay greedy for a long time to come.

and you’re sure they feel the same.

the sun lets her golden hair flow throughout the city, melting rivers and warming benches. she falls across shoko’s lecture hall, sneaks into satoru’s classroom, kisses her way up suguru’s neck. you let a sigh slip past your lips, and the sun breathes it in again — a vein of joy awoken, slumbering inside your veins.

and you smile.

(it’s springtime, now. a little warmer.

here’s to another year together.)

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #geto x you #geto x y/n #shoko ieiri x reader #shoko ieiri x y/n #shoko ieiri x you #gojo fluff #geto fluff #satosugu x reader #sashisu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader

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deliciousangelfestival · 24 days ago

Note

bucky barned x depressed reader?!!!!!! ☕️🍪

Of course dear. This request is a perfect match for this continuation. I hope you like it.

Only The Lonely - Rain and Umbrella

Summary: After being saved by Bucky and freed from the debt collectors, you finally managed to get a job with normal working hours. You thought you’d lost your late-night train buddy, but Bucky still visits your place whenever he can.

Everything seemed fine—until you ran into someone from your past. Suddenly, all the feelings you had been holding back came flooding out.

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Genre: Romance, Action, Comedy, Slice Of Life

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way I publish my book Arrogant Ex Husband in Kindle. 👉 Now available on e-Kindle Amazon! << here's the link.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“Giving what you can, even when you don’t have much, makes you the richest person,” your grandfather would always say. On his birthday, instead of celebrating, he spent the day handing out free food to the homeless. It was his way of teaching you that kindness ripples back in unexpected ways.

That lesson became your compass, even when life pushed you into the shadows. For three long years, you had been hiding—avoiding the gang that chased you, ducking into smaller, quieter corners of existence. Yet, even when you struggled, you gave. Like the day you paid for a mother’s milk at the store with the last of your cash, and somehow, you landed a cashier job at a car workshop that very evening.

And now, giving extra food—a small, unthinking act of kindness—had saved your life. Who would have thought your train buddy was capable of something like this?

After Bucky untied you from the ropes, you stumbled forward, your muscles sore and stiff. His strong hands caught your arm and steadied you without a word. The cold air outside the warehouse hit you hard, but you welcomed it—it was freedom. Around you, the gang members lay crumpled—some groaning, others fainted in various awkward positions.

You turned to Bucky, your breath visible in the freezing air. “How… how can I repay this?” you stammered, still processing everything.

Bucky looked around at the chaos, then back at you, expression unreadable. “You’ve already paid me.”

“What?” you whispered, confused.

He raised a gloved hand and pointed. “Monkey bread—for him,” he said, nodding toward a man sprawled against a crate.

Your eyes widened.

“Beef Wellington,” he continued, motioning to another unconscious man slumped against the hood of a car.

“And Fish and Chips—for him,” Bucky finished, nodding toward a guy dangling limply from a chain.

You blinked, processing his words. Then it hit you—your cooking. That’s what this was about. “Wait… you mean the meals I gave you at the shelter?” you asked incredulously.

Bucky didn’t respond, but the faintest flicker of amusement passed through his blue eyes.

The surreal realization was too much; you let out a soft, shaky laugh, half disbelieving. “So… that’s what you were doing when the lights went out?”

Bucky didn’t answer. Instead, he shrugged off his leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders. You flinched at the weight of it, stunned at the unexpected warmth—both from the jacket and from him.

“Let’s go home,” he said softly, his voice as gentle as the night air.

Since that night, something shifted between you and Bucky. The quiet man who barely spoke a word became a constant presence in your life. You didn’t know how he’d taken down the gang—single-handedly, no less—but he had ended the nightmare that stole your freedom.

Days passed, and slowly, you found pieces of your old life returning. The hotel manager—the one you used to gossip about with Bucky—tracked you down one afternoon. When he saw you, his expression softened, his tone low and warm.

“Life’s been hard on you,” he said, a quiet statement that felt like a hand on your shoulder.

You swallowed hard, your chest tight as you struggled to hold back tears.

He offered you a lifeline: “I have a friend who owns a small café. They’re looking for a barista. I know you’re good with coffee—you’re overqualified, honestly.”

Your breath hitched. A job. A normal job. No more vampire hours. No more hiding.

You smiled weakly, trying to speak past the lump in your throat. “Thank you,” you whispered, barely audible.

But relief came with a bittersweet edge. A job with regular hours—9 a.m. to 4 p.m.—meant no more morning train rides with Bucky. Those quiet, unspoken moments had become a comfort, and losing them stung more than you expected.

When Bucky heard you suggest a visit to your café, he didn’t hesitate. “I’ll stop by after I wake up.”

You paused, curiosity tugging at you. “Wait... what time do you usually sleep?”

“Sleep?” Bucky’s voice trailed off, his expression unreadable. Silence followed as he stared off at nothing. For him, sleep wasn’t a comfort. Resting for three long months in a coma had left its mark—it was enough sleep for a lifetime. Being idle, trapped in a body that couldn’t move, was unbearable. The thought of sleep brought back those suffocating memories, and he avoided it whenever he could.

Instead, Bucky spent his nights on late trains. The rhythmic clatter of wheels on tracks calmed him in a way nothing else did. The hum of motion, the gentle swaying, the faint, distant sound of announcements—it was constant, predictable, alive. Trains were his solace. There, in the quiet hum of machinery, Bucky didn’t feel alone.

“Well, aside from that,” you said, snapping him from his thoughts. “Visit my café, and I’ll give you the best sandwich you’ve ever had.” You paused, then remembered his preference. “Oh—come around 2 or 3 p.m. It’s quieter then. Fewer people.”

Bucky nodded, his usual silent agreement. “Alright.”

Since that day, Bucky stopped by your café whenever he could. Most weeks, he visited twice. Your co-workers noticed him immediately, his tall figure and striking demeanor impossible to miss. But none dared to approach him. Bucky had an aura—one that screamed, “Don’t talk to me.”

It had been a few months now, and the rainy season had settled in. One afternoon, the skies opened up. Rain pounded against the café windows, blurring the view outside. Bucky walked in, his clothes slightly damp, as if he’d miscalculated the storm. After finishing his sandwich, he stood to leave, glancing out at the relentless downpour.

“Wait!” You grabbed the bright yellow umbrella sitting near the counter and held it out to him.

Bucky frowned. “Do you have another color?”

You shook your head. “No. Take it.”

He stared at the umbrella, reluctant, almost as if offended by the bright hue. But after a moment, he sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He took it.

“Bye!” you called as he left, your voice light with amusement.

☕☕☕☕

The next day started like any other. The café was warm and bustling as you worked behind the counter. The hum of the espresso machine, the hiss of steamed milk, and the soft murmur of conversations filled the air. You greeted customers with a smile, moved quickly between orders, and wiped down counters when the rush slowed.

Then you heard your name—spoken softly, yet somehow sharp enough to pierce through the noise.

You looked up, and your stomach dropped. Toby.

Your ex-boyfriend stood there. His face betrayed his shock. “It’s… wow. How? I don’t even know what to say. You’re… you’re here?”

Clearing your throat, you straightened, forcing calm into your voice. “I’m fine. Everything’s been taken care of. What do you want to order?”

Toby blinked, regaining focus. “Just… a regular hot Americano, please.”

“One hot Americano,” you repeated, turning to the machine. He followed your movements, lingering on the other side of the counter.

“You look good,” he said suddenly. His voice was soft, genuine. “I’m glad you’re okay now.”

You glanced at him, just for a moment. And then you saw it. The silver ring glinting on his left hand—fourth finger.

Before you could react, a deafening crack of thunder shook the café. Everyone flinched, covering their ears instinctively. Even Toby winced.

“That’s loud,” he muttered, forcing a smile. “I’m glad I brought an umbrella—just in case.”

“Yes,” you replied stiffly, handing him his coffee. “It’s always smart to prepare for the rain.”

Toby paused, his eyes lingering on you longer than they should have. “It’s good to see you,” he said softly. “And knowing you’re okay… it means a lot.”

You nodded slowly, your throat tight. “Goodbye, Toby.”

He left, the café door swinging shut behind him, the bell jangling softly.

The moment he was gone, everything around you felt distant, unreal. You went numb. Your hands moved on their own—wiping counters, refilling the sugar dispenser—but it was like your body was acting without you.

“I need to step out for a bit,” you mumbled to your coworker.

“Under this heavy rain? Are you serious?” she called, but you didn’t hear her. You were already out the door.

The rain hit you instantly, cold and heavy, soaking through your clothes in seconds. You squinted through the downpour, but you could still see him—Toby—his figure fading as he walked farther away.

Your feet hesitated at first, uncertainty freezing you in place. Should you follow him? But then he turned a corner, disappearing from sight, and something inside you broke.

You ran.

The rain blurred everything—your vision, your surroundings—but you didn’t stop. Water sloshed into your shoes, weighing you down, but you pushed forward. Your heart pounded, a warning deep in your chest. And then you saw him again.

He walked into a small gift shop. You slowed, panting, your chest heaving. Through the rain-slicked windows, you saw her—a woman—walking up to Toby with a smile. She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

CRACK. Another thunderclap shook the sky, louder this time. It felt like the thunder was mocking you.

☕☕☕☕

Back at the café, Bucky stepped inside, shaking water from the yellow umbrella you’d given him. His eyes swept the room quickly. “Where is she?” he asked your coworker.

“She went out. Said she needed to chase something. She didn’t take an umbrella or a jacket.”

Bucky didn’t wait to hear more. He turned and ran back into the rain, the yellow umbrella forgotten in his grip.

The rain was relentless. Bucky scanned the streets, his sharp gaze darting from one figure to the next. He moved quickly, following his instincts. Then he saw you.

You were walking slowly now, soaked to the bone, your shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world had settled there.

Bucky approached you quietly, matching your pace. When he reached you, he didn’t say a word. He simply opened the yellow umbrella above your head, shielding you from the rain.

You blinked, startled. The absence of cold raindrops pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked up. Bucky stood beside you, his face calm but unreadable, the umbrella angled to keep you dry.

For a moment, you just stared at him. His blue eyes searched yours, patient, steady—waiting.

“Bucky…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes said enough: I’m here.

The rain fell relentlessly, soaking through your clothes, clinging to your skin, but you welcomed it. You wanted the coldness to freeze your thoughts, the heaviness of the downpour to wash away the tears streaming down your cheeks. Maybe, just maybe, the rain could hide how much you were crying. But no amount of cold could numb the ache inside you.

Why did I go after him? you thought bitterly, scolding yourself. Deep down, you knew—you felt—that you shouldn’t have followed him. Your instincts had warned you, whispered that you wouldn’t like what you saw, that you’d be disappointed.

It’s not that you still loved him or had any lingering feelings for him. It was the memories—the life you had before all of this—that you missed. Memories have a cruel way of hurting you, a constant reminder of what’s lost, especially when you know you can’t turn back time or rewrite the past.

The breakup wasn’t filled with anger or betrayal. It had been mutual—an agreement you both made, though it shattered your heart. Toby had been kind, too kind. When the debt collectors started chasing you, hounding your brother’s unpaid loans, Toby had offered to pay it all. But you couldn’t let him. It wasn’t his burden to carry.

The debt collectors—the gangsters—ruined everything. They made your life unbearable, calling Toby’s parents, threatening him and anyone close to you. That’s when you decided it was enough. You ended the relationship to protect him, to free him. Then you ran. You moved across the country, hiding, surviving. You cut ties with friends because even they weren’t safe.

And now, seeing him… seeing him happy with someone else…

You pressed a hand to your chest, as if trying to hold the pieces of your heart together. If my brother had never taken that loan… I wouldn’t have to run. I wouldn’t have to hide. I wouldn’t have to live in constant fear.

The years of silent suffering weighed on you, and the truth surfaced: you’d been depressed all this time. You pushed it down, locked it away, told yourself you were fine because you had no choice but to keep going. But right now, in the middle of the rain, all of those feelings clawed their way to the surface.

Then you heard his voice.

“What can I do to help you?” Bucky’s voice was soft yet steady, cutting through the storm like a lifeline.

You froze. The words hit you harder than you expected. You blinked up at him, rainwater still running down your face like invisible tears.

Those words. That was what you wanted to hear. That was what you had needed for so long. Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, your arms wrapping tightly around Bucky’s torso.

“Nothing,” you whispered into his chest, your voice shaking. “Just stay.”

The dam broke. Your tears finally came—hot, unrelenting sobs wracking your body. You cried for everything you’d lost, for the years you spent pretending you were okay, for the regrets and burdens you had carried alone.

Bucky stood stiffly at first, his arms slightly raised as if unsure what to do. He was caught off guard. You’d fooled him. He thought you were okay after he’d taken care of the debt collectors—the men who had chased you, terrorized you. He thought his help had freed you. But it hadn’t.

She’s been hiding it, Bucky realized, his jaw tightening. Depressed people were like that—they hid their pain so well that even someone like him couldn’t see it.

Slowly, his arms came down around you, one hand resting lightly on your back, the other shielding your head from the rain. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just held you as you cried, letting you break down in the safety of his presence.

Bucky brought you back to his place—a small, unassuming apartment that was surprisingly warm. He let you take a hot shower, the steam and heat finally driving the cold from your bones. When you emerged, you were wrapped in one of Bucky’s sweatshirts—soft, oversized, and smelling faintly like leather and soap.

You sat on his couch, knees drawn up, still sniffling quietly. Bucky handed you a small bar of chocolate.

“Mint chocolate?” you asked, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“Everyone likes chocolate,” Bucky replied, sitting across from you. He watched you carefully, his gaze softer now.

A long pause settled between you, broken only by the sound of rain tapping on the window. Then Bucky spoke, his tone even, but with an edge of seriousness.

“Do you want me to handle your brother?”

You looked up, confused. “Handle him?”

Bucky’s expression darkened slightly. “He’s the reason you’re living like this. In my line of work, people take responsibility for what they’ve caused. He’s the one responsible. He should pay for it.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. “Thank you, but…” You hesitated, staring at your hands. “I’ve been looking for him for the past three years. I can’t find him.”

Bucky leaned back, arms crossing over his chest. His voice was calm but firm. “Don’t worry. I’ll find him.”

Your lips parted slightly, taken aback by the certainty in his words. “Jeez, Bucky… how could I ever repay you for all of this?”

Bucky shrugged, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. “The coffee, the sandwiches, and that umbrella are enough.”

You huffed a small, tired laugh, shaking your head. For the first time in years, you felt a little lighter.

Bucky sat back, watching you. He didn’t need to say it, but you understood: you weren’t alone.

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floweringlee · 10 days ago

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One Latte Please?

Part 1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: A man runs into the shop you work at in a rush and all you do it make his coffee, this seems to be a daily occurrence between you too and eventually it turns into something more

Word Count: 1.8k

Notes: I’d been thinking of this one for a while sooo I hope you guys like it 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Part 1 || Part 2

☕️ ☕️ ☕️

You hummed as you wiped down a counter, the smell of coffee hitting your nose. You always opened the coffee shop that was on a small corner of Monaco at 7am sharp. Your parents owned it and eventually passed it down to you once they had gotten too old. Your coworker and best friend yawned beside you sipping on her Red Bull as they leaned on your side. “Y/N look! They brought back the Max Red Bull cans!” They squealed shoving the can in your face. You rolled your eyes pushing the can away.

“Bsf/n will you stop shoving things in my face?” You shake your head with a small laugh. Your best friend had been obsessed with this drivers for as long as you could remember but you never really cared much for it yourself. You tried your best to half heartedly listen to the things she said catching onto small things like her favorite driver Max Verstappen but that was about it.

“Ok ok fine I will but will you at least look?” They whined slightly.

“Fine fine I’ll humor you” you rolled your eyes looking at the can, on it was a man with a smile and one fist in the air, at the bottom was a racing car. “It’s cool,” you hummed.

“I know! But they totally took Checo off the can” they huffed with a small frown. “They used to sell them and I only have like a whole pack but still!”

You laughed a bit as she ranted before you sniffed a bit, “Uh- do you smell that?” You asked. They raised an eyebrow “OH SHIT! THE COOKIES!” They screeched, rushing behind the counter to disappear in the back. Just as they ran out a man ran into the shop slightly out of breath and clearly in a rush. His green eyes scattered across the room before the landed on you.

“A latte please?” He asked slowly out of breath.

“Of course!” You smiled quickly getting to work. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed the man tapping his foot which eventually swapped to pacing, checking his phone every once in a while. He really must have been in a rush. When you were finished you handed him the cup, a small leaf design decorating the middle. “That’ll be $5.31” you said.

The man frantically pulled some money exchanging it with the coffee “Keep the tip!” He called over his shoulder and he was out of the door just as quickly as he came in.

You stared at the door for a moment before looking at the bill in your hand, which was actually $100. “Wait! Sir I can’t-“ but you knew he was already long gone, the bell jingling at the door as a clarification. You stared at the money in your hand before your friend came back outside.

“The cookies are saved!” They declared proudly.

Huh. That guy looked familiar.

***

The next morning, it was just you, quietly humming to yourself as you iced a small cupcake. The familiar jingle of the door sounded as you smiled, ready for the first customer. “Hi! What can I get you-“ you looked up, only to become face to face with the guy from yesterday. Today he seemed much more tame, put together and definitely not in a rush like the day prior.

A smile graced his features, two noticeable dimples poking out when he saw you. “Can I get whatever you made yesterday? It was delicious.”

You let out a small laugh, “Latte it is then.” you say, picking up a cup to start the order. He was once again the first person in the shop, leaving the silence of each other and the light music to keep you both company. “What had you in a rush yesterday?” You asked, attempting to fill the silence while you worked.

“Oh just a meeting,” the man chuckled, which admittedly had to have been one of the best sounds you’ve ever heard. “I overslept.” He explained, “but the coffee you made did help, it’s got quite a punch” he added.

“Well I’m glad I could be of help,” you poured milk into the drink, crafting a small leaf pattern again. “Would that be here or to go?” You asked, looking over your shoulder.

“To go,” he nodded a bit.

You slipped a top on, setting it on the opposite counter. “That will be $5.31”

He pulled his wallet out, handing you a bill again. “Thank you for the coffee, again Ms….?”

“Y/N” you filled in the blank.

“Y/N..” he echoed, as if he was testing the waters on how to say it. “Ms.Y/N, thank you,” he nodded before spinning on his heel to leave again.

You looked down at the bill in your hand once again seeing a $100. Man. You really had to start checking this guys money before you took it.

***

Like clockwork the next morning the man showed up again. And again. And again. Soon it became a daily routine. You open, he comes in, asks for a latte and the two of you began to chat more and more. Sometimes he’d even help you with your opening duties if he was early enough.

You learned that his name was Charles. He had the most beautiful set of green eyes you’d ever seen. When he laughed he had dimples that poked the sides of his face. When you made him nervous he would fidget with his rings and his chuckle was melodic. He liked ice cream and he grew up in Monaco. His favorite color was red and it was on practically every article of clothing he owned.

He learned that you liked long walks. Had a pet cat, and your favorite color was (f/c). You hated making donuts because they never turned out right for you but you loved to make (favorite/pastry). He somehow learned your favorite drink and would bring it along when he came too.

One morning, as you prepared the shop for another day, Charles arrived even earlier than usual. His entrance was quieter this time, the bell above the door barely audible as he pushed it open.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he greeted, his dimples already on full display. In his hands, he held a small paper bag, a set of flowers and a coffee cup—your favorite drink, as always.

“Good morning, Cha,” you replied, smiling as you wiped your hands on your apron. “You’re early today. Couldn’t wait for your latte?”

He chuckled, setting the bag and cup on the counter. “Something like that. But actually…” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck—a nervous habit you’d picked up on. “I brought you breakfast. You’re always making food for everyone else. I thought it was time someone made something for you.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, warmth blooming in your chest. “That’s so sweet of you. What is it?”

“Croissants,” he said, his green eyes sparkling. “Homemade. They might not be as good as yours, though.”

“You made these yourself?” you asked, opening the bag to reveal perfectly golden croissants. They looked almost too good to eat.

“Well, my mother might have helped a little,” he admitted sheepishly. “She insists I should know how to cook, just in case.”

You laughed softly, breaking off a small piece of a croissant to taste. It melted in your mouth, buttery and flaky. “This is amazing, Charles. Thank you.” He seemed relieved by your approval, his smile widening. “I’m glad you like it.”

The two of you fell into your usual routine—him helping with small tasks around the shop while you prepared his latte. But today, the air between you felt a little different, a little closer. As you handed him his coffee, a question slipped from your lips.

“What are the flowers for?” You asked curiously, noticing how, he hesitated before speaking.

“Y/N… I was wondering if you’re free tomorrow evening?”

You blinked, surprised. “Tomorrow evening?”

“Yes. There’s a restaurant near where I live,” he explained, his voice a little softer now. “Some of my mates recommended it to me and I thought you might like it”

You felt your cheeks heat up, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Are you asking me out, Charles?”

He laughed, a little nervously. “Maybe I am. Would that be so bad?”

You pretended to think for a moment, though your heart was already fluttering. “Hmm… I guess I could make time for you.”

“Perfect,” he said, his dimples making another appearance. “I’ll pick you up at six?.”

As he left the shop that morning, the familiar jingle of the bell sounded different, like a promise of something new. You watched him go, your smile lingering long after he’d disappeared down the street.

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

Your best friend leaned against you as they grinned clocking into their shift.

“So. Who’s the mystery boy you always talk to in the morning?” They teased. “You always have sooooo much to say about them.”

You shake your head. “There’s nothing much…you start hesitantly. “He’s just really sweet and caring. He actually started bringing me little snacks from around Monaco and other places around the globe.” You explained.

“Awwwww!” They squealed. “He totally likes you.” The certainty that came with their voice was unwavering. “Who else would take the time out of their day to come this early in the morning every day to see someone!?Come on, you have to tell me his name! You’ve been hiding it long enough don’t you think?”

“Fine fine, his name is Charles.” You say slowly. “He’s got these beautiful green eyes and messy hair. Whenever he smiles he has these adorable dimples” there’s an airy tone to your voice but the look on your friends face made you stop. “What?” He raise an eyebrow.

“Did…did you happen to get his last name?” They ask slowly.

“Yeah…it’s Leclerc but why does that matter?” You say with a small nervous laugh, setting down the cup you had been washing.

“Do you have ANY idea who that is?!?” Their voice was a low screech but somehow loud enough to still manage to make your ears bleed. “That’s the Charles Leclerc. Y'know, like the Ferrari driver! The PRINCE of Ferrari!” They hissed.

Just then you pulled out your phone quickly googling the name. Your eyes scanned the screen and your jaw dropped in shock when the face of your cafe crush pulled up on the screen.

No wonder why he looked so familiar.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x you

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viennakarma · 2 months ago

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The Lucky One (2)

Part 2 (of 2) of The Lucky One | Sebastian Vettel x Reader

Summary: Formula One had been your dream and your goal ever since you were a kid, and you did all you had to in order to achieve it. Between ups and downs, Sebastian becomes a steady presence despite being your complicated frenemy relationship. Until everything comes crashing down. Formula One gives, but Formula One takes.

Word count: 5.5k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, reader is mirrorball coded, coming of age, cursing, romance, both are assholes, smut, +18, complicated feelings, rivals to lovers, crash, major injury, medical innacuracies, bittersweet ending, not beta read; t.w: brief christian horner scene.

Relationship: Sebastian Vettel x Reader

Note: This is fully inspired by the song, and throughout my writing process I realized it also fits mirrorball. This one may require some tissues (especially in part 2). Everything is fictional and I mean no disrespect to Sebastian or his family (they don't exist in this story). I'm sorry it took me forever to come back to it, but there it is, hope I don't disappoint Not proofread. Comments and feedback are welcomed.

Find me on Twitter! | BUY ME A COFFEE ☕️

Ending whatever complicated fling was going on with you and Sebastian was the right, rational call, you knew that. But your body, your heart, regretted it every couple of weeks as you laid awake in bed, plagued by memories, need and longing.

You decided to just do your best during that season. You couldn’t fight for the championship anymore, but you still wanted a great season since the following year would be your last in the current contract with Red Bull. A great performance could secure a renewal or even the interest of other teams.

Sebastian and you still saw each other frequently during race weekends, your eyes always finding each other across the crowd. He was consumed with guilt, of having been blinded by his own privileges that he didn’t see the struggle that was being a woman in Formula One. He vowed to never be so far from reality like that ever again.

He wanted to stop you, to talk to you again, to try and fix things, but there was this constant mix of shame and uncertainty about your reaction if he tried reaching out again. Sometimes he would look at you from afar, and he’d see something in your eyes, something that felt like the same longing he had. Some other times, you looked at him like you hated him.

Eventually in the third race to the last in Bahrain, he couldn’t take it anymore. There was this string tugging at his heart, begging to see you and talk everything through. During the Friday afternoon, between Free Practices, he marched around decidedly, looking for you. He walked into the garage and no one seemed to mind his presence as he went straight into your driver’s room. He barged in, not bothering to knock. You were sitting on the couch, drinking Red Bull and going through some papers. You frowned and stood up as you saw him.

“What are you-”

“Stop…” He interrupted with both hands up, “don’t say anything just yet.”

You frowned but didn’t look particularly angry, your frown softening into a stunned silence. Sebastian sighed, breathing slowly, he had a plan and a speech when he was marching there, but now, looking at your face, your pretty eyes, he had lost all sense of reason.

“We’ll talk about everything, rationally, like adults. Okay?” He offered, and you slowly nodded, unsure but also willing to try, “Not now, because the race and everything. But- this monday, okay? After the race, after we get a good night’s sleep. We’ll go to a nice restaurant, and we’ll talk over good food. A real date this time, no hiding anymore,” He said, his words pouring out fast, like he wasn’t truly thinking about what to say, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement, “Monday night?”

“Monday night,” You nodded, no anger in your eyes, just a glimmer of hope.

“Good,” He nodded and just left.

You stood there, speechless, but with a disbelief smile on your face, looking almost silly. Despite the anger you felt the last time you two actually spoke, there was this undeniable magnetic pull between you, and you didn’t seem to be able to be away from him just as he wasn’t able to be away from you.

The whole weekend, you felt that nervous energy, almost bouncing up the walls, you attributed it to the race, but you knew it was more than that. The car had been great the whole week, you qualified P2, your first real possibility of win in a few months, which would be a blast to finish the season winning one of the last races.

You were smiling as you waved to the fans during the driver’s parade, your first hopeful and excited pre-race interview in quite some time. As you put on your gloves and helmet, you couldn’t help but feel some sense of purpose. You would give your very best in that race.

You just didn’t know it would be your last time behind a Formula 1 wheel.

The race was great, it started alright and most of it you kept your P2, even after a failed attempt of undercut, you still managed your P2, but then came the moment, the point of no return in your career, the very moment that changed the trajectory of your life forever.

After turn 15, you had finally managed to catch up to the P1, less than half a second behind him, and despite his car being fast, you could try and overtake him with the DRS. You pushed the fastest you could in the straight, closing and closing the distance, almost succeeding in overtaking, but as the DRS zone ended, you realized you’d have to wait another lap to try again. But then, as you pushed the pedal to brake and slow down into turn 1, the car kept going. So many things happened in the span of mere seconds, but they felt like ages to you.

“I’ve got no brakes,” You said into the radio as you tried braking. Then you tried engine braking and the security system braking. None of it worked.

With quick thinking, you decided to face the turn that way and bear it. You'd probably lose a lot of grip with the rear, but if you hit the curbs it’d help you slow down and just drive to a stop. You kept trying the brake pedals all the way to the turn, when suddenly, the tyres locked up and everything happened really fast.

You weren’t able to turn, the tyres locked and you had no way to slow down the car. All you did was brace as you went full force straight into the barriers, the impact so hard it made your car split in half. You blacked out for a couple of seconds and then came to again, a ringing in your ears as you tried to situate yourself, a mix of excruciating pain and numbness, pulsing hard, almost keeping you in and out of it.

Pain. Numb. Pain. Numb.

You tried to stay awake, hearing your name being called in the distance, the numbness giving each time more space to the excruciating pain but you couldn’t identify where it came from.

“Talk to me! Are you okay?” You were only half aware of the voice in the radio, and you blindly reached for the button with shaky hands.

“H-help,” your voice was shaky, hoarse and so unlike yourself.

You couldn’t move, you couldn’t bring yourself to even reply again, even more aware of the pain now, barely keeping your head up and your eyes opened. Teary eyed, a distant, cold part of you knew it was over. It was over forever.

Then you blacked out.

“Sebastian, red flag, red flag,” His engineer called, as if he had not seen all the red flags throughout the circuit.

He drove back to the boxes, hopping off the car as he saw other drivers do the same, he marched into the Ferrari garage, worried.

“Is everyone okay? Who was it?” He asked, as he removed his helmet and balaclava.

The grief faces around him didn’t help, and Sebastian felt a sense of dread as he turned to the closest screen showing the live coverage of the race. The transmission was a helicopter shot of your car into the wall, or a better description would be two piles of wreckage of your car as the marshals rushed towards it. He felt like he could puke, despair spreading through his chest.

“What did she say? What happened?” He asked anyone willing to answer, his eyes glued to the screen. As if on cue, a replay of your crash played out on the screen.

“S-she asked for help. She didn’t reply again after that.” Someone said, somber, and a lump lodged in Sebastian’s throat.

He kept staring at the video, then a replay of your radio also came through, the despair as you realized you had no brakes, the urgency in your engineer’s voice as he asked you to try other means. And the faint “Help” you said after one of the ugliest crashes Sebastian had ever seen. He had never been a religious guy, but at that moment, he prayed. His eyes glued to the screen as the marshals started removing pieces surrounding you and the car, and the ambulance arrived. They started checking you and were about to pull you out of the wreckage.

Then, the cameras were cut off, showing the drivers and everyone in the garages. Sebastian knew that for the transmission to stop showing, it meant the crash was really bad, it meant that however they were pulling you out, it was ugly. Sebastian felt a shiver up his spine as he thought about the possibility they were removing your dead body from there.

With that, he marched out of the Ferrari garage and towards RB, and he found other drivers were already making their way there too, everyone desperate for any news. A few minutes later it was reported that you had been taken by helicopter to the nearest hospital. Sebastian breathed again as they reported you were alive, but unconscious.

The race was interrupted officially a few minutes later, Sebastian and Lewis along with a few other drivers were still waiting by the Red Bull garage for more news on you. Slowly, everyone was sent away when the news came from the hospital that you were hurt, but not in a life threatening situation and you’d stay in the hospital for observation.

That was when Sebastian finally left, a little shaken as he went through his post race duties.

The following morning, after a tossing and turning almost sleepless night, the official representatives confirmed that you were alright but had unfortunately fractured a leg, and would not take part in the remaining two races of the season.

Even after he got news on you, and there was this sense of relief that you’d recover, the knot in his stomach remained, his gut saying that something was off. But he brushed it off, thinking it was just lingering anxiety from the accident.

He wanted to talk to you, see you. He got your number from Lewis and texted you but you never replied and he kept trying. A few days later, Lewis commented with him that you hadn’t replied to his text either. And later they found out you actually had not replied to any of the drivers or anyone from the Formula 1 teams.

After Abu Dhabi, when the season ended, he got a hold of your manager, leaving an office in the Red Bull garage. He stopped her, gently taking a hold of her arm.

“How’s she doing? Do you have any news on her?” He pressed.

“She’s alright, still recovering.”

“Why hasn’t she answered her phone?”

“She’s recovering and took a break from social media and the internet, so she hasn’t been able to communicate well. I’m sure once she’s fully recovered she’ll get back to you.”

“Do you have a home telephone, e-mail or even an address where we can reach her? See her?” He asked, almost desperate.

“I’m sorry. Just give her some time, I’m sure she will come around.”

With that, your manager left quickly, holding a small stack of files with both hands, the “classified” stamp boldly branding it. Sebastian kept trying to contact you, failing miserably each time.

When the Prize Giving ceremony came, he was bouncing with nervous energy, hoping and praying he would get to see you again. If anything, just to know you’re really okay and well. You didn’t show up to the ceremony, but suddenly you were awarded the Personality of the Year award.

Then, your face showed up on the big screen, and Sebastian felt his breath stuck in his throat. It was a simple, regular video of you, you were wearing a pretty dress and your hair was in an up-do. Your face had makeup like you always wore in these kinds of events, pretty eyes and big lashes, and a scarlet lipstick. Your face looked healthy, despite your eyes lacking its usual brightness.

“Hi, everyone!” Came your recorded voice with a smile, “It’s such an honor to receive this award. Thank you to everyone who voted for me and congratulations to all other drivers on the season. I’m well and recovering, and I’m grateful for all the well wishes all of you sent me these past weeks, I truly appreciate them.” Your smile faded almost imperceptibly, but Sebastian noticed as you inhaled softly, like you were resigned to something, “I will take this opportunity to let you know that I’m retiring from Formula 1 from now on. I’m grateful for all the opportunities, all the dreams achieved and the amazing people I got to know and work with. Thank you very much.”

As the video cut off, there was a stunned silence since absolutely no one saw that coming. No one expected you to announce your retirement like this. So suddenly, especially considering you had one more year of contract with your team. And you were also very young, just 28.

The event went on but Sebastian couldn’t move on from your video, from seeing your face and hearing your voice again. He went through the motions for the rest of the night, and at some point, Lewis stopped him to chat about how glad he was that you looked healthy. But Sebastian couldn’t shake off that pit in his stomach.

The following week, once he was done with his postseason duties, he called Lewis and a couple of the drivers you were the closest with. Still, none of them had any news on you, no text, no calls, nothing. He went digging further and found out you lived in Monte Carlo, in the same building as a few other drivers. Desperate for anything he went there personally to look for you. After giving your name and being recognized, the staff member checked on their computer for a moment.

“Unfortunately, she moved out of this building around a week ago.”

“What…?” Sebastian whispered to himself, shocked, “S-she… um, do you know if she moved to another place here in Monaco? Or she moved to another country or something?”

“I don’t have that information, sir,” the woman replied, looking at him with a smile apologetically.

Sebastian nodded and left, helpless.

Time went on, the world spun, and he never heard about you again. The holidays came and went, and a new season started. People still spoke about you, whispers about your retirement and the accident, many conspiracies theories about why you had disappeared. But oddly enough, the FIA and the F1 representatives never spoke much about you.

Not seeing you again was eating him alive, especially whenever he remembered the last time you had talked, the promise of a future that never came. One time, he went to the Red Bull to try and get any information about you. He kept bothering the staff for months, everyone including Christian, who was the one to put a firm stop to his nonsense of bothering the team’s staff about you.

“I need to talk to her, it’s important,” Sebastian pleaded.

“Have you considered that maybe she doesn’t want to be bothered? That she doesn’t want to speak with you or anyone for that matter?” Christian said, “This stops now, Sebastian. Stop bothering my team about this or I’ll have to go to Todt.”

Sebastian deflated, feeling defeated, only nodded, walking away.

He still talked about you on occasion, mentioning a battle in passing, or whenever the only woman to win a Formula 1 championship was mentioned. Sometimes he hoped you were watching, that you could see the longing in his eyes, that you’d feel something and reach out to him. And then later, he felt silly, stupid for wishing so.

Late at night, he stared at the ceiling, trying to commit to memory everything that had ever happened between you. The fights, the shouts but even more the chats, the making love and the silly conversations you two had late at night, your naked bodies covered by a thin blanket as you chatted about anything and everything. He always thought about your hands mindlessly drawing on his skin, you two drifting off to sleep, and then one of you sneaking out in the middle of the night. No goodbyes to make it easier.

And now the lack of goodbyes felt like an open wound for him.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five years passed and Sebastian believed he had learned to deal with your absence, with the lack of closure. But it was a lie he kept telling himself, even if every year, he kept trying your phone number, your email, sending texts and notes, until your phone number was discontinued and probably sold again, for a new owner and your email stopped receiving and his letters would not go through. He never changed his own number, expecting you to eventually call.

When he announced his retirement, a small part of him hoped you’d reach out once you got the news. You never did.

After his announcement, he decided to resort to desperate measures and hired a private investigator. And finally, after a couple months since the end of his last season, he got news on you.

Ben, his P.I., got an image of you in a café in a quaint little town, you sitting down, sipping some coffee and reading a book. The image was a little blurry, probably taken from a long distance, but it looked like you.

Now, Sebastian was retired and had free time, and he immediately packed a suitcase and went to the town. He arrived there on a friday morning, and after checking in at a small but comfortable inn, he went straight to the café. Ben had told him the photo was taken in the late morning, so since very early, he went to the café and decided to wait for you. Ordering a coffee and a muffin, he waited.

And waited. And waited.

Hours and hours and a bunch of coffees and muffins later, the staff were looking at him strangely, and one of the ladies looked at him with pity, warning they were about to close.

“Were you waiting for someone, boy?” She asked.

“Yes, uh- a friend,” He sighed, standing up. He said your name, and the woman seemed to recognize the name, “She’s this tall,” He gestured, showing your height, and gave a brief physical description of you, and the woman nodded.

“I know her! Very sweet but also a bit stubborn.”

“I thought I might find her here, but…” He shrugged, giving his best puppy look to the older woman.

It didn’t take much for the woman to give him your address, and despite the urge to go straight there, Sebastian knew it was late, signaled by the café closing and he knew small towns like this usually went to sleep early. So he went to the inn, taking a shower and going to bed, trying to sleep, trying to get to the following day.

But his racing heart was making it impossible to sleep, and he laid on the bed, thinking of you, going in and off sleep, dreaming of you.

In the morning, he had breakfast and went to your address in a moment that wasn’t too early in the morning. Your house was a medium sized family looking home, cozy, a big front and backyard. It looked like somewhere to have a family in and to grow old.

He walked up to your porch, drying his hands on his jeans and before he could hesitate, he rang the doorbell.

He wondered if you would welcome him, at least as a friend. His nerves wondered if you had gotten married, had a family, and he was just a pathetic and creepy guy for never moving on from you. He wondered if-

You opened the door, freezing the moment your eyes met his. Sebastian looked at your face, still as stunning as ever, showing small signs of aging, but they suited your face beautifully. Your hair was longer, natural, and your face looked healthy, with a beautiful sunny hue to it.

“Principessa”

“Sebastian…” You said, shocked, “What- How…?”

“Can I come in?” He asked. You nodded, awkwardly scooting away from the doorway so he could come inside.

“I- do you want some tea?” You offered, unsure of how to feel with his presence so out of the blue.

“Yeah,” He nodded, following you inside and sitting on an armchair as you signaled him to. A small teapot on the coffee table between you, “I’ve been looking for you. Why did you disappear?” He asked, his voice almost tinged with despair.

You tried to think of what to say for a moment, pouring two mugs of tea to gather your thoughts, to grapple with the fact that Sebastian Vettel, your rival, lover and friend was there, suddenly, after five long years.

“What happened to you?” He asked again, his voice almost in pain.

“That crash happened…” You said, hands around the warm mug.

“It was worse than they made it seem, wasn’t it?” Sebastian said, a knowing look on his face when you nodded, getting up and slowly walking to a drawer on your bookshelf, he noticed how you favored one leg. You pulled a file from the drawer and walked back to the couch, handing it to him.

Silently, Sebastian opened the file, going through medical reports of you, all dated back to five years ago on that fateful night. You looked like you were avoiding looking at the files, busying yourself with preparing tea for the both of you. Sebastian read through the papers, and what caught his eyes were an x-ray of your knee, the one you were limping now, and a transverse fracture of your spine.

“Oh, my god…” Sebastian whispered, horrified. He stopped on a picture of you laying in a hospital bed, eyes red and puffy from crying that weren’t the main focus of the image, instead it was your knee, immobilized, held in place by a lot of metal pins, “What did they do to you…?”

“The crash, it bursted my knee. I almost lost my leg… Fracture, torn ligament, it was hanging by a thread. And my spine, a fracture that could’ve hindered me to a wheelchair for the rest of my life. It was brutal, my knee took the brunt of the impact, and my back was the split car…” You explained, almost robotically, like you had rehearsed that speech, your eyes were wet as you fought the tears, “They said I was lucky. Lucky I didn’t lose a leg, lucky I didn’t end up paraplegic…” You sighed, swallowing the tears, “They said I could never go back to a racing car again, because the G Forces could put too much strain on my injuries, not to mention, if I injured these two spots again, it would be risking more permanent damages. I was lucky I pulled through.”

There was bitterness in your voice, and how could you not feel bitter about that? How could you not feel angry and sad and mourn the life you once had. A life where racing had been everything to you.

“I’m so sorry,” Sebastian reached for your hand, his expression completely crestfallen, “We had seen how that car was completely unreliable, how sometimes it worked and sometimes it was a hazard to you. I never thought it could end this badly…”

“And… I’m sorry I disappeared. I know you tried contacting me for a while, but… I just couldn’t see anything related to Formula 1. I couldn’t be near all that without feeling a gut wrenching pain, without feeling anger for anything related to motorsports… I just had to get away from all that.” You explained, looking lost and Sebastian could understand your pain. Despite the times he felt angry and sad for your disappearance, now that he knew about your reason to leave completely… he understood, “I’m sorry. I know you and some other drivers tried reaching out, but I just… I wasn’t in the right mind.”

“I understand. I can’t even imagine what you went through…” he said, his voice so understanding that a lump lodged into your throat, “how was recovery?”

“About a couple of years between the back fracture and the knee… A few surgeries, lots of physiotherapy. Lots of pain and sleepless nights…”

“Did you think about fighting, suing…?” He asked softly.

“I did… I was so angry. I wanted to sue all of them, the team, the FIA, the president. But then…” You paused for a second, “It’d drag out for god knows how long, they would surely bring all the weapons, smear campaigns, defamation, and… My image as a driver, as a person, would just be even more exploited. And I was so tired, I just wanted to heal away from all that.”

“I was so worried for a while. One day I saw your manager leaving the Red Bull hospitality…”

“There was a deal. They offered me an absurd amount of money for me to not sue them, to not bring to light what happened. They also paid for all my medical bills. I also made sure they would review the safety regulations, so no driver would have to risk their life like that again. And I know you’ll say it’s not fair, that they got away with it, but… I was just so tired. I spent my whole life playing a role, being the image they wanted… that tragic ending to my career was all I got? I genuinely wanted to disappear for the longest time after that,” You said, voice cracking for a moment, “Racing was my driving force and suddenly it was ripped away from me.”

“I wish I could’ve been there for you.” He whispered, which made your eyes water for a bit, but you looked at the ceiling, willing the tears away.

“I was a mess, there would be nothing you could do for me…” You said with a devastatingly sad little smile, “And I kept myself completely blocked from Formula 1.”

“Do you still feel pain?” He asked suddenly after a few seconds of silence.

“Physically?” You shook your head, “Sometimes a little discomfort when I’m in places where the weather is very cold.”

“And emotionally?” He whispered and you looked away, swallowing.

“You’re a racer, you can imagine…” That’s all you said.

Sebastian nodded softly, he couldn’t imagine being stopped from doing the one thing he loved the most right in his prime, in the heights of his career like you. And in one fleeting moment having that all stripped away. Your ability to do what you trained your whole life for.

“How-” He cleared his throat, deciding to change topics, “How are you living here? Enjoying?”

“Yeah, lots of free time and new hobbies…” You said, looking grateful for the change in topic, “Wanna see my garden?”

“Sure,” he nodded and you both stood up, he let you lead, his eyes dropping to your slight limp, and the constant sound of the cane hitting the floor with your steps.

You took him around your garden, where there were plants, flowers and even a small cultivation of vegetables. Everything was well cared for and groomed, there was even a small greenhouse where you guided him inside. He could barely look away from your face, your pretty eyes, your lovely lips and beautiful face that only got prettier with time.

“And here…” You stopped inside the greenhouse, “Some plants that are a little more sensitive… Tomatoes, some strawberries…” You grabbed a small clipper and handed him a fresh strawberry.

He stared at you, a silly smile on his face, watching as you grabbed a strawberry and took a small bite, the juices coating your lips in a pinkish color. His eyes dropped to your hand, noticing the absence of a wedding ring, or an engagement ring.

“Do you have a significant other?” He asked, interrupting your ramble for a moment, which made you blink, blushing slightly.

“No, I-” You paused, timid, “No…”

He walked closer, entering your personal space, his hand on your jaw, holding gently, his thumb slowly wiping the leftover strawberry juice on your lower lip.

You looked at him, tempted, looking like you wanted to risk everything. But then you scolded your face, walking away from him and back to your house. He just followed you, until you two were back in your living room. He went after you, looking like a kicked puppy.

“Sebastian,” you sighed, unsure of what to say.

“What about us?” he asked, and there was so much unsaid, but you didn’t need words when you could see it all in his eyes.

And despite wanting so badly to give in, to give a real shot to something you never got the chance to explore, you also knew you were still a mess, and being away from Formula 1 for so long, you didn’t want to bring back all the bad feelings you had regarding it. It would put an even bigger strain on you two.

Things were so complicated now, you didn’t tell him you never stopped thinking about him. That you were haunted by what-ifs, that you would have vivid dreams of a family and a future with him. You didn’t tell him about all the sweaty nights when the memories of your shared passion kept you awake. And you didn’t tell him the last thing you saw before passing out after the crash were his shiny blue eyes.

“I’ve been away from motorsports for so long, and I don’t know if-”

“I retired. Last year,” He interrupted you, “and it won’t matter to us. We have so much else to explore…”

“Sebastian… I’m a mess. I look okay now, but I still have bad days. Awful days. And it’s ugly.” You said, voice clipped. Like you weren’t allowing yourself to want, to just take a leap and do what you have yearned for so long.

“I don’t care, don’t you see that I lo-”

“You need to go,” You said walking to the door to open it, as Sebastian paused like a dejavú, “Leave, Sebastian.”

He swallowed, remembering that time you said the exact same words that sent him away. That time he did exactly that, respecting your wishes instead of his own. Gulping, Sebastian took a step forward and turned around on your porch, walking away. He stopped midway to his car, looking over his shoulder. You were still rooted to the spot, watching him. He looked down at his own feet.

“Fuck it,” He muttered under his breath.

He marched back, long strides up to your porch, so fast that you could barely register when he wrapped his arms around you and picked you up in a hug, his face nuzzled into your neck, breathing in.

“No,” he whispered against your skin, “I’m not letting you go again. Ever.”

And then finally, finally, you hugged him back, tightly around his neck silently because there was no need for words, a silent understanding of finding each other again. Of having someone like him, who fought for you, to find you even when you thought you shouldn’t be found. When you broke the hug, Sebastian held your face with both hands, his thumb gently wiping the tears you had shed during the hug.

“I love you, Principessa.”

“Even now? Even after all this time?” You asked, voice shaky but your eyes with a glimmer of hope.

“Even after all this time,” He nodded, blue eyes shining in happiness, a barely contained smile on his face.

“I love you too, by the way,” You said, shyly and hiding your face into his chest.

“No, that won’t do,” He laughed, a playful cocky chuckle, “I need you to look me in the eyes when you say it,” He tangled his fingers on your hair at the nape, tugging gently so he could make you look up at him, when you did, there was this playful look in his face and you almost melted right there.

“I love you, Sebastian,” You smiled, feeling silly. Sebastian nodded, leaning forward to peck your cheek, his lips slowly descending your jaw and neck.

“Let me stay,” He asked, his lips brushing your skin and making you shudder, closing your eyes.

“Only if you stay forever,” You smiled, and he started walking you backwards, entering your house again, his hands on your hips helping you stay up as he gently nipped your neck.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” He said, kicking the door closed behind him, “You also owe me a date, Princess. Remember?” He gently laid you down on the sofa, slowly laying down on top of you, “And I intend to charge it, with all the interest fees…” He joked, pressing a soft kiss to your chin.

-----

TAGLIST: @ririgy @ironmaiden1313 @w4ltmeister @vellicora @hopefulsophie @chloeannabelle @rebelatbay @crashingwavesofeuphoria @zoeyjadetice2010

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel #sv5 #sv5 x reader #sv5 imagine

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vanfleeter · 3 months ago

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Tangled In The Blankets

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ || Fluff. Cozy Jake. Smut. Dry humping. Oral sex (f receiving). Penetrative sex. Cockblocking.

🕯️☕️🕯️☕️🕯️☕️🕯️☕️🕯️☕️🕯️☕️🕯️☕️🕯️☕️🕯️☕️

Tonight is the perfect fall night.

The air is chilly accompanied with the light rain that drizzles. The whole house is swallowed in darkness except for the living room. Candles are scattered around the room, flickering and illuminating the room in a dull, orange glow. A cozy and comfortable feel for the night.

A fire flickers in the hearth. The sound of the fire crackling mixes with the breathy moans of both you and Jake.

After a long day of work for the both of you, Jake made the decision to have a quiet and relaxing evening, and he knew just the way to wind down. So when you came home, you found the house darkened and the soft glow from the living room beckoning you.

It started with a quiet dinner around the coffee table, consisting of a warm bowl of soup, a new recipe that Jake had found on the internet. Then following the soup, was a comforting mug of hot cocoa made from those hot cocoa bombs. Inside them were mini marshmallows and little Halloween sprinkles. He would watch you with a small smile on his face as you watched the hot cocoa bomb rotate in the warm milk before melting and releasing all of its contents. He chuckles when you squeal seeing the little sprinkles inside.

“There’s little pumpkins!” You exclaim as you look closer, your nose nearly touching the warm liquid inside the mug.

Sitting on the floor against the coffee table and sipping on the hot cocoa, Jake started to touch you. First it began with his hand resting on your knee as he leaned closer and pressed his lips to your cheek, causing your cheeks to just slightly flush red. He slowly trails his hand up your knee and he gently squeezes your thigh making you squeak and your body jolt, nearly spilling your hot cocoa. He smiles against your cheek, and you can feel his warm breath against your skin as he opens his mouth just a little to kiss you again. You let him remove the mug from your hand and he sets it on the table beside his before he pulls you onto his lap.

His lips brush yours before he fully presses in and he kisses you. His hands move from your thighs and around to your butt. He gives them a light squeeze making you smile against his lips. The small movement of your hips has you grinding against his crotch. He groans, mentally cursing himself for choosing to wear such a thin pair of linen pants. But in this moment, he embraces it and pushes you back down again against his hardening bulge.

You knew he had this planned out when he laid you on the floor that was already covered with blankets and pillows.

He takes his time undressing as he does himself, and leaving gentle kisses along your body. He loves you softly as he makes his way down your body. His thumbs rub circles on your inner thighs as he makes a connection with your aching core. You feel his tongue gently dance through your folds and you can’t contain that moan that escapes you.

He licks through your folds again before thrusting his tongue inside of you. You writhe beneath him as he becomes relentless, fucking you with his tongue and bringing you crashing into your first orgasm. He laps up all of your release and crawls back up your body.

All while he had been orally fucking you, neither of you realized that the rain had picked up and was turning into a storm until you saw a flash of light from outside the living room window. Jake took no notice of it as he positioned himself between your legs. He only acknowledged it when he pushed inside of you as thunder rumbled outside.

“I guess we’re just that powerful together..” He says with a wink. You can’t help but laugh at his feeble attempt at a joke.

He sits inside of you, completely filling you, and kisses you before he slowly starts to move, first pulling out with just his tip inside and then pushing fully back inside. He keeps it slow for a little bit, feeling every single bit of you.

You’ve wrapped your arms around his back and your legs are twisted around his waist giving him an easier access to you as well as a way to push himself deeper. Your moans are sweet and airy and he absorbs everything one of them.

You take him by surprise when you clench your thighs around his body and use your strength to roll the two of you over, allowing you to be on top. His head lays perfectly against the pillows, his long locks splayed out around his head.

“Was I not doing enough?” He says with a smirk.

“No..” You smile as you keep the steady pace going, rising and falling around his length as he meets you in your descent with a thrust of his hips.

You were nearing your end, your walls clenching around his length. “That’s it, baby..” He says, digging his fingers into your hips. He wasn't quite there yet but he wanted you to find yours again.

Oh how he loves to watch your face twist and contort as the pleasure fills your body. The way you bite your lip as a little squeak emmits from your throat. And when you finish, he flips the two of you back over. Seeing how tight the blankets have come with all the movement, he finds it hard to do much so he pins you to your stomach on the floor and fucks you from behind. His body is completely stretched on top of yours. Your back is arched just over so slightly so that he has the right angle to thrust himself inside.

You can feel his hands wash down your arms as he hands come down to hold yours, your fingers interlocked together. His warm breath cascades down your neck with every thrust he gives. You’re still sensitive from the first two orgasms that he gave you, making your third approach rapidly.

He peppers the back of your neck with kisses as he picks up his speed. He twitches within you, signaling his impending orgasm.

“Baby.. I can’t hold on any…longer..”

You turn your head to the side and he captures you in a kiss as you both come to your own releases. He sloppily kisses you again, refusing to remove himself from inside of you.

“Are you okay?” He asks as he moves your hair across your back and kisses your shoulder. You nod your head, giving him a lazy smile and he chuckles.

Finally he removes himself from inside you and does his best to twist his body inside the blankets to lay beside you. You turn on your side, giving him more space but he only pulls you closer. He brushes your hair behind your ear and softly caresses your face in his hand. Another strike of lightning flashes followed by a dull thunk from inside the house. “I guess the powers out,” Jake laughs.

“That’s okay,” You say as you snuggle into his chest. “We don’t need it right now.”

He smiles and tilts his head to kiss you. “I hope I did good tonight.” He says, drawing little shapes on your skin.

“Better than good,” You say as you slide your leg over his hip. “I love nights like this.. Slow and relaxing–we haven't done this in a while.”

“No, we haven’t,” He says. “And I’m sorry for that.”

You shake your head before kissing him. “Don’t ever apologize. You’ve been working hard and I am proud of you.”

The two of you became absorbed in each other again that you didn’t notice anyone coming inside the house until Josh clears his throat. Jake nearly jumps out of his skin and turns over to look at him.

“What the hell, Josh?!” He exclaims. “You can’t just barge in here like that! Did you even knock?”

“Uh yeah,” Josh says. “I knocked and I rang the doorbell.. But clearly now I can see that I’m interrupting something.”

“Very much so..” Jake growls through his teeth.

“Well I lost power so I thought I’d come over here.”

“We don’t have power either,” Jake says.

“Yes you do,” Josh says matter-of-factly as he leaves the living room. “Porch light is on!” He calls from the kitchen. “Ooo! Soup!”

“Josh–” Jake begins, but you stop him.

“No, it’s okay.” You say. “Let him eat some.”

“Well this relaxation lasted as long as it did,” He grumbles.

You giggle and lean over to kiss him. “Come on, let’s get dressed.” Jake groans and falls over onto his back. “Maybe when he leaves, we can resume where we left off..” You whisper in his ear.

“Why don’t we just continue now?” He whispers back as he pulls on top of him. “He’ll be so grossed out that he’ll have no choice but to leave.”

“Come on, Jake. Be a little hospitable.”

Jake huffs a breath. “Fine..”

🕯️☕️🕯️☕️🕯️☕️🕯️☕️🕯️☕️🕯️☕️🕯️☕️🕯️☕️🕯️☕️

@losfacedevil @writingcold @edgingthedarkness @ignite-my-fire @jordinlkiszka @hollyco @earthgrlsreasy @dancingcarbon @josh-iamyour-mama @katiegvf @oliverfuckingreed @cheersdannyx2 @piratejtk @takenbythemadness

Add yourself to the tag list! Link in the master list!

#jaketober #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fic #gvf #jake kiszka smut

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cinnamonsship · 8 days ago

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☕️ imagine you and your f/o waking up together, but neither of you are feeling at your best.

maybe one of you had a long, sleepless night full of tossing and turning. maybe it was supposed to be a day off, but life has still decided to throw everything your way, and now free time is spent full of stress and anxiety. maybe one of you is sick, or hungover, and the midday sun that streams through the window only serves to aggravate a pounding headache. maybe it’s just one of those days with no reason at all. whatever the cause, both of you happened to wake up on the wrong side of the bed on this day.

yet despite it, taking care of each other just seems to make your own problems melt away. bringing a coffee or tea to warm up, or gatorade and ibuprofen to nurse the illness/hangover. holding each other as the tears flow during a much-needed cry session. taking a nap together, breathing in the solace and comfort you bring each other and allowing it to lull you both to sleep. ending the day with a shared hot bath or shower, massaging a sweet-scented soap into each other’s most tense and achy muscles. the playing with hair, the stroking of backs, the kissing of foreheads… your problems seem so small knowing that you both can focus on making the other feel better. you give each other the slow day you both deserve, and being able to make a sucky day suck a little less together offers a feeling of relief unlike any other.

and when you wake up the next day, you both feel completely at peace.

🥐 pro/com/neutral dni

#order up! ☕️🥐#imagine your self ship #imagine your fictional other #imagine your f/o #selfship imagines #selfshipping community #selfship community #self shipper #self shipping #self ship

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takiberry · 1 year ago

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𐙚ᝰ.ᐟ Coffee Breath : WY

౨ৎ˚⟡.•☕️ you’re SICK.

PREV : MASTERLIST : NEXT

📝 ╰┈➤ tini notiez : yay chap five !! i won't do TOOO much drama but i want your guys' opinions on what i should do for more 'angst' like chaps !!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 🐾 taglist ; @aceheexx @hyvelxve @soobiverse @luvnicho @i4kt @luvitria @jjungwonss @wonkisbbg @flwoie @sionshiii @yyawnjun @olivehues @amesification @heart4hees @maoyueze @ffixtionista @yuma-is-mine

#renè’s talking teddy 🧸#renè is taki’s bby🐰#renè’s 🍓 anons!#&team smut #renè’s favs!🍭#&team hard hours #&team hard thoughts #&team fluff #&team x reader #wang yixiang smut #wang yixiang #&team nicholas #nicholas x reader #wang nicholas #&team #&team smau #&team social media au #&team angst #;coffee breath☕️

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floraltypes · 2 years ago

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ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ people pleaser (☕️)

pairing - jim halpert x reader

synopsis - jim is known to be likable, so the one person he really has grown to enjoy seemingly not liking him is very frustrating

request - 900 event!

Despite sitting right beside him, your eyes seem to always look past his. It had been almost a complete month since the newest co-worker of Dunder Mifflin- you- arrived and you still won’t look at him. It is not so secretly getting to him.

It was clear from the moment you arrived that you made the dull office seem brighter. With your smile and sweet beauty, you chatted up everyone. Sure, you were more quiet but you still tried to come out of your shell.

He admired that aspect about you—the way you’d bashfully let Dwight blather on and on about some stupid beet rant and kindly explain something to the vibrant Kelly, who would rather chat your ear off about royalty drama. Somehow, in one way or another, you had done something kind for everyone in the office, even Jim, yet he was still spiraling.

You would quietly bring him coffee after getting some for yourself, yet never said anything more than placing it on his desk and returning back to your work.

“I don’t get it,” he sighed, legs crossed and furrowed brows while staring at the camera. “Did I give her a mean look the first day? Accidentally take a potential client? She just refuses to talk to me!” he waved his hands around, clearly stressed.

“Have you tried being nice?” one of the people behind the camera asked.

“I mean, yeah!”

“Oh my,” you agitatedly whispered underneath your breath, hand rubbing the bridge of your nose while peering at the never-ending circle of death. The bright colors were now spinning for ten minutes and you had tried everything.

“You alright?” Jim looked up from his work to see your mouth downturned and face sour.

“It’s fine,” you shake your head, typing something into the keyboard while waving the mouse around the screen. “The website might just be down.”

“Mine works fine.”

“Thanks,” you grimaced, your voice clearly showing how annoyed you were at the moment. At your reaction, Jim flushed a bit, fearful that he was giving you another thing to hate about him. Therefore, in order to make sure that wouldn’t happen, he made it a mission to help you.

He stood up from his desk, walking the few steps to your own where he leaned over the side of you, now scanning his eyes through the computer screen in hopes of seeing something you had not.

You could feel his breath on the open skin of your neck; he was so close, his hand gripping one edge of the desk, near where your own arm lay with his hand on top of the mouse. Inside your stomach was experiencing that familiar stirring feeling when you encompassed Jim Halpert.

“I don’t hate Jim,” you quietly answered the question, sitting uncomfortably in front of the camera. “Why would you think that?”

“Did you try doing that command exit?” he questioned, looking down at you, a few wisps of hair falling across his forehead. You couldn’t help but stare at the new look—the way his eyes always seemed so soft when they looked at you. But, then again, he was just such a nice guy that it probably was like that with everyone.

“Didn’t work,” you hum, forcing yourself to face away and keep your sights on the computer screen. This action now gave Jim a similar opportunity to look over your features. The way you nervously bit at your lip and the creases from your current stress were evident near your eyebrows. Something fluttered within him, and he wished to just gently smooth them before placing a sof- “I’ve tried everything.”

"Well, there is one way, if you head to the search bar.” Pushing his thoughts aside, he moved his hand up a bit to reach for the mouse. In return, he accidentally grabbed the top of your hand. “Oh."

“It’s fine!” You accidentally yelled, looking around at the stares from disrupting fellow co-workers. You quieted down and tried to leave your seat. “I’ll just go talk to IT, call them, or something. You don’t have to worry about it.”

He hesitated before removing his hand from your own, and like an ignored puppy, he relocated back to his desk, sending a defeated look towards the camera, trying to signal them to look away.

All that was swirling through his mind is that, somehow, he gave you another reason to despise him. All that was swirling through your mind was that your crush on the naturally kind man was escalating fast, and you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself.

This was merely one example of Jim’s attempt at showing extra kindness to you, a chance for you to grow a liking to the genuinely sweet man (even though you already had, he just wasn’t informed on that information). Later on in the week, he was determined to do a coffee drop-off, as you had done for him many times.

It was the later hours of the night; Michael's lack of organization led to two salespeople having to stay later and fix his mistake. After too many rounds of rock paper scissors, it was concluded that you and Jim were the (un)lucky winners.

“I’ve almost finished with the first pile,” he perked up at the sound of your voice, soft humming exiting your lips after the small comment. “I should be able to finish up the next one rather quickly.”

“Same here,” he hummed, tapping his pen on his desk. “Weird without everyone.”

“Mhm,” you nodded in agreement, scribbling away with no mind to his words.

“I’ll be back.” exiting his area, he made his way to the darkened kitchen area. Luckily there was a pot left, and pouring a bit into two cups—your specifically designed one and his striped one—he plopped them in the microwave to heat up.

“Hey, does it look like the name-” You suddenly stopped your question upon noticing that your co-worker had disappeared. With much interest and confusion, you now followed the beaming light to where he stood, blowing your coffee a bit. “Jim?”

“Ah!” he hastily put the cup down.

“What are you doing?”

“Providing you a good cup of Joe,” he hesitantly smiled, lifting up the green mug. “I warmed them up too long; I don’t want your tongue to burn off or something.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, giggles erupting, which made him just want to join in. “You’re so kind,” you mumbled, taking the cup and bringing it to your lips.

Jim was stunned, stuck in place, his eyes wide, and ears almost seemed to perk up at such a compliment. “You think I’m nice?”

“You’re the nicest person in the office, probably.”

“Wait, you don’t hate me?”

“Why do people think that?” You shook your head.

“It’s just, well, you act so differently. I try extra hard to be nice; I don’t know if when you first started working here I somehow did something to... tick you off?”

“Oh,” was all you could muster up at the moment, nerves once again kicking in at the way his body heat seemed to be radiating and a soft glow was in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize; it’s just, I actually just want to get to know you more.”

“Jim, you’re kind, but you don’t need to do anything extra for me. I’ve noticed your politeness and all of these acts; it makes me overthink things.” With a sigh, you let him know the truth, shoulders slumped due to the confession. “It’s not your fault; it’s mine; I just don’t want to take things out of context.”

“You think I learned the way you take your coffee just to be friendly?” you nodded at his question. “Even the way I always drop off a specific candy bar if you’re having a bad day or e-mail a funny message about animals because that always seems to make you smile? Have I ever done any of that for Dwight, Angela, or even Stanley?”

There is silence, and for once, you ponder to yourself that you may not be overthinking everything after all. Jim places his hand on your shoulder, thumb rubbing over the fabric. “It’s not as if I like them in the way I like you.”

And after those words tumble from his lips, that hand moves up to cup your cheek, mouth leaning in to place itself upon your own. He can taste your coffee concoction on his lips now and finally get to feel the softness of your cheeks. Similar to a boy's first kiss, he opens his eyes, trying to admire your features (finally) up close.

“Well, it’s obvious he confessed,” Pam laughed, rolling her eyes while speaking in the confessional. “He shows that lovesick smile all the time; I would know, I’m his best friend. It was even obvious that she liked him, but I figured it would be better for him to find that out on his own.”

The camera went on to pan into where you and Jim were giggling at the candy on the receptionist's desk. He stole a piece from your hands, plopping it into his mouth, and you lightly smacked his arm in response. Jim’s lips twitched, hands grabbing your own hand, and just shaking his head before letting it loose. To Jim, the confession was liberating; he was known to be a people-pleaser but especially a you-pleaser. Yet, hiding his growing affection from the office staff would be more difficult than he imagined.

(the office masterlist)

#the office x reader #office x y/n #office x you #office x reader #jim x reader #jim halpert x you #jim halpert x reader #jim halpert x y/n #jim x you #office fanfiction #jim halpert fanfiction #floral.theoffice

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bambiesfics · 11 months ago

Text

- Link to Bimbo reader’s mood board -

𝗘𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗲’𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝗼𝗱𝗯𝗼𝗮𝗿𝗱 🚬🦕 ☕️ 🐈‍⬛

Ellie’s all: eye bags, waking up at 5am to go to work, restless, breath smells like black coffee and a Marlboro. She uses her girlfriend as her comfort person, her emotional support human, her plushie. She’s butch, too protective, feels like a father around her airhead bimbo gf, sap for sure.

- Images that reflect Ellie -

⧆　　 🚬 　　∿　　 ⌅　　⁺

⭒　　　　🐈‍⬛　　　⁺　　　♩

⧆　　 ⌅ 　　∿　　 🪵　　⁺

💭……. To Ellie …….

Hey Ellie, you’re so hardworking. Such a gruff, brooding, little asshole. You don’t look like much, despite your attitude. Lanky little toned arms, 100 pounds soaking wet. But you don’t care, you didn’t choose your frame, you chose your character. And you have a protective one, a strong one, an unrelenting on. You get so get soft and sappy around one girl, that’s right. The one you wanna take care of.

Let your girlfriend say something cute and watch how quickly you itch to throw her in the backseat of your car and climb through the front seat just to assault her in kisses. And all she did was call you a cutie in your “emo boy clothes.”

🎵 Her songs, give them a brief listen: Spotify links

Safe in your skin - Title Fight

Transgender - Crystal Castles

where is my mind? - Nada Surf (she loves the original pixies one, nada surf just makes her feel cool and sad).

Delaware - Drop Nineteens

If you think I’m pretty - Artemis

!!! [ Please help Palestine ] !!!

#yes that’s Sophie thatcher in the 2 photos #she so fine #she’s Ellie’s hair inspoooo #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie tlou2 #the last of us x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou x reader #tlou2

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whoreteen · 2 years ago

Note

Hhu wanting you to ✨beg✨ like a good gurrrll

↳ pairings: hhu x reader ↳ wc: 2,5K. ↳ genre: smut with a dash of fluff, fwb!au, roommate!au, established relationship. ↳ content warnings: TEASING (lots and lots of it), unprotected sex, use of pet names, dumbification, orgasm denial, corruption, praise kink, slight degradation & dacryphilia if you squint your eyes lol [lmk if i missed anything]

a/n: i wrote short scenarios for the members based off my brain rot . Nothing Else 🤭 they’re all self indulgent sorry not sorry hsgdgs this is straight up filth ok brace yourselves &&’ hope you like it anonie ~_~ also this isn’t proofread oops

buy me a coffee? ☕️ | masterlist | feedback.

♡ 𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐋

— your innocence only makes him want to corrupt you more than he already has.

Seungcheol doesn’t know when or how it all started, but his brain is constantly filled with images of corrupting your every thought. He wants to hear you beg for him and have you know you only belong to him.

He’s fought countless thoughts with himself, blaming it all on your innocent nature that’s in contrast to his own dirty one, yet, he just can’t help taking the most innocent things that you do and making them seem so wrong and dirty.

He doesn’t care how he found himself in this predicament, truthfully, but fuck. You’re just so pure and inexperienced, so innocent — soaking yourself at the simplest of touches. He truly just can’t get enough.

“Fuck.. Cheol,” you choke out his name as he buries his face in your neck, stopping to nip and suck at the flesh there as you’re wrapped around him in every way.

You let out a whine and shiver slightly when his warm breath tickles his neck.

He looks up to admire your desperate state momentarily, bottom lip caught in his teeth before muttering a soft, “Yes, angel?”

His lips attaches to your neck again, leaving open mouthed kisses and light bite marks. The overly intense feeling of his soft, wet lips on your neck and thick cock buried deep inside of you is almost getting too much to bare.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, smirking ever so slightly, eyebrows raised in amusement. He damn well knows your answer already.

“Fuck— no, please, no,” you cry out pathetically as you roll your head into the pillows. “Please.”

“Please what?” he taunts. There’s nothing more he loves than your soft, tiny moans, he just wants you to be louder for him. “I got you baby, but you gotta— shit, you gotta tell me what you want.”

Looking up at with those lidded, slight glossy eyes that he swears he could get lost in, you nod. “P-please,” you moan, “fuck me harder.”

“Yeah?” he smirks, feeling his cock swell a bit more at your pleas, wanting it just as bad as you’re asking for it. “Beg for it.”

He gives you a particularly hard thrust and your voice turns into a squeak as you clench around him.

“Come on, baby, show me how much you want it. How much you want me to fuck you…”

“Cheollie, please,” you’re downright begging now, moaning his name against his lips as his strokes gets faster, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightening with each thrust. “Nggh oh my god, fuck—I want it so bad. Please don’t stop.”

You let out a whimper and when you look up at Seungcheol, you’re met with dark, lust blown pupils, and lips swollen red.

His mouth is half open as he lets out very low guttural grunts. “That’s my good girl, I always got you, baby. Are you close? ‘Wanna cum for me?”

♡ 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎

— you’re never one to dirty talk, but unfortunately he won’t fuck you properly unless you do.

“Fucking say it.”

Your tiny moans fill the room as Wonwoo starts slowly grinding inside of you languidly, causing friction between the two of you.

For some reason, your boyfriend gets off on the incoherent babbles that pour out of your mouth as he pounds his big cock inside of you. He just loves hearing you cry and beg for him, but more than anything, he loves seeing you in this state. You never know what to do with yourself whenever he fucks you, it’s almost like you’ve never felt pleasure like this before.

“I said say it,” he demands harshly.

You can’t help but whine and grind your hips up to meet his that have suddenly slowed to a stop.

One thing about Wonwoo is he HAS to hear how good he makes you feel; he wants to hear you beg, swear, use your manners and say ‘please’.

But more importantly, he wants you to tell him what you want.

Your only response is a drawn-out moan, lower lip caught between your teeth. At this point, you just want him to move. To give you what you so desperately want.

“Or I’ll stop,” he adds, earning another whimper from you as his strong hands grip your waist, stilling you with a firm grip. “Don’t test me.”

A low whine of his name escapes your lips and he feels his cock harden at the sight of your doe eyes, pouty lips, and messy hair. His mouth literally waters at the sight.

“Please… Wonu, I need you,” you finally plead. “Please, fuck me hard, make me cum,” you sob while hopelessly bucking your hips into his, yet to avail. “Please…”

You whine, eyes shut tight, “Y-you feel so good… inside me, nggh oh my god. So big.. I-I love it, fuck, so much.”

You’re so needy at this point and literally in the palm of Wonwoo’s hand, but your boyfriend isn’t someone to give in so easily.

If you really wanted it, you’d have to beg and work for it.

He slowly thrusts his hips up shallowly as he moans at the delicious drag of your wet heat.

“How bad do you want it, baby?” he smirks as he watches you tremble and clench around him from such minimal contact. “Hmm? Tell me.”

“S-so badly,” you plead. “I need it.”

“Oh yeah? What do you need, princess?” he teases sadistically, nipping at your bottom lip a little too harshly before licking over the sore spot in apology.

You try to avoid meeting Wonwoo’s eyes and he can’t help but smile lovingly, his dom presence almost disappearing. God, this side of you is just endlessly cute and he finds himself falling even harder for you, if that’s even possible.

He thrusts his hips slightly. “You gotta use your words. If you can’t even say what you need, maybe you don’t want it that bad,” he shrugs nonchalantly, withdrawing his cock the slightest bit, but you’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist tightly, to keep him in place.

“No, no, no!” you cry out, sounding so broken as you clench around him. “Please, you make me feel so good, I love how you feel inside of me— please, don’t stop.”

You’re almost crying at this point, tears slipping down your face, and god did Wonwoo love seeing you beg.

“You’re so cute, baby girl, so fucking adorable,” he confesses as he begins thrusting into you, his pace fast and merciless, until you’re a mess of incoherent words, finally giving you what you want. “Do you know that? You’re so beautiful, such a pretty mess, and it’s all for me, right? Fuck, I love you so much… my good girl.”

♡ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘𝐔

— he realizes the sound of your desperate moans are more enough to send him over the edge.

You moan, sobbing quietly as you try to muffle the desperate sounds of pleasure you’re letting out behind your hand, too focused on the way he thrusts himself deep inside you.

“C’mon baby,” he coos lightly. “I know you wanna be good, for me, don’t you?”

His hips slows to an agonizing slow grind against yours and you nod vigorously. “Exactly, now take your hand off your mouth. For me.”

You do as you’re told. He tightens the grip around your neck just a little before his forehead presses against yours. “Wanna, fuck, hear those pretty little noises you make.”

You feel the loud gasp you let out cut through the already stuffy room and it only takes a few seconds before you stop fighting the urge to push yourself against him, kissing him sloppily.

Mingyu moans into the kiss and presses his lips harder against yours, swallowing each of your delicious moans. Truthfully, there’s nothing more he loves than hearing your moans, but as always, he really needs you to be louder for him. Like, he feels like if he doesn’t hear your loud moans, he might die. That’s how bad it is…

“Gyu…” you whimper. “I— fuck, oh my god yes, just like that… Feel so full.”

To him, your moans and sounds of pleasure is music to his ears, something he wants to hear over and over again.

All of this started with you drunkenly hooking up with your roommate, Mingyu once, and since then, you’ve been casually ‘hanging out’. You’ve had many pillow talks at first which involved conversations about what you’re both into and not into as well as rules to keep things from getting, well, messy.

Surely, the ‘no feelings’ and ‘no strings’ rules were the most important things in your relationship, but Mingyu had broken them way before he knew they even existed.

He fell for you the first time you had sex, and at this point, he’s too far gone to even think about refusing you anything you want. If quick hookups is what you want from him, and still be his friend, then he can do that.

Little does he know, you feel the exact same way.

Mingyu lazily licks his lips and raises an eyebrow at the desperate whines of plea that escapes your mouth as you buck your hips into his.

“I know you can take it,” he pants, the way he’s speaking makes your head spin as he gradually picks up his pace. You feel him deliver a particularly rough thrust that manages to hit that soft spot inside of you as you force your grip on him to tighten and your eyes to snap shut.

You try to open your mouth to say something, but all you can produce are silent gasps and broken whimpers of his name as he thrusts his hips into you.

“Fuck, baby. Show me you’re a good girl.”

Your eyes roll back into your head, he’s got you just where he wants you. “Mingyu, oh my god, right there!”

He continues to thrust his hips hard and deep, your tight walls tightening around him as your loud moans loudly resounds in the empty room.

“Yeah?” He places one of your legs over his shoulder as his pace quickens, a choked moan falling from your lips at the feeling. “Tell me how good I make you feel. Want you to feel good for me.”

“S-so good, fuck. ‘Gonna cum.”

Mingyu thrusts forward, loosening his grip on your waist until his cock is fully sheathed inside your gspot before he suddenly stills his hips. “Wanna cum? Yeah? Beg for it like a good girl, then.”

♡ 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐋

— he wants you to fuck you so good to the point you won’t be able to think about anyone or anything else.

Vernon is tugging your bottom lip with his teeth before he pulls away and you hear a soft, “Fuck, you’re so pretty… so gorgeous, it’s killing me,” dance over your ear.

You let a high-pitched moan escape your lips and his hips slow to a deep grind as he appreciates how wet you get just from him spilling out a few words, how you crumble beneath him before he even pushes his dick fully inside of you.

“My good girl… Taking it all in like the beautiful slut you are, hmm?” he coos. “Just for me?”

“Fuck, it feel so good I’m so— oh my god, so close.”

“Say my name,” he commands in a low voice, running his large hands beneath your body, groping a handful of tits. “Wanna hear you moan my name.”

The thing about Vernon though, is that he gets off on stuff like this. You’ve been friends with benefits for a while and, the amount of times he’s fucked his hand to the thought of you moaning his name? Countless. The way you whimper his name? Fuck, he’s on cloud nine.

“Hansol— oh my god, fuck!” you cry faintly, your entire body trembling as he tilts his mouth to your ear and whispers obscene delights. “It feels so good, please don’t stop— god, please.”

Vernon firmly grips your throat the second you moan his name, grinding his cock as deep as he can penetrate you, stretching you to accept his size. You feel your inner muscles strangling him and close your eyes.

“No, no, no. Don’t close them baby,” he demands, his soft voice holding a certain degree of authority that instantly makes you stop in your tracks. “Wanna see your face…”

You open your eyes to look into his gorgeous ones and he thinks he might explode, the eye contact alone is enough to nearly send him over the edge.

“I want your eyes on me, can you do that for me, baby girl?” he asks, his voice just above a whisper, moaning at the wrecked look in your eyes.

The next move you make is giving him a kiss that’s much softer and sweeter, a gentle one, right before he says, “I promise I’ll make you feel good, trust me.”

In all honestly, you don’t need to hear it. You already know he will, just like he always does.

“Sollie— god, fuck! Feels so good. Fuccck— so big….”

“Oh yeah?” he says, entertaining your little rant.

Continuing to rut against his hips, you feel yourself forgetting how to breathe as you stare in awe at Hansol who’s voice is getting breathy and fucked out.

You squirm underneath him, closing your eyes.

“Look at me baby,” he says. “Open your eyes.”

You look up at the pretty boy on top of you, beads of sweat running from his collarbone over his perky chest. He looks so fucking hot, all blissed out and fucking you as hard as he can.

“There she is…” he grunts, “My good fucking girl. Keep those pretty eyes on me, okay?”

You can’t help but nod, moving against his hips and moaning his name continuously as you try your best to get more friction. Your chanting stops for a minute but your best friend’s hips hasn’t stopped, still buried deep inside you.

“I-I need words, baby, wanna hear you beg,” he moans. “You look so pretty, all flushed… Shit, you’re so beautiful.”

“Fuck— there you go baby, that’s my good girl. Always so good for me…” Vernon whispers against your lips as his hips slow to a deep grind, crashing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss. “You’re doing so well for me. Taking me so fucking well, like always, huh?”

if you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving feedback! love hearing you guys’ thoughts! my reqs are open for now, so if you want anything written, lmk 🤍

#seventeen smut #svt smut #scoups smut #seungcheol smut #wonwoo smut #mingyu smut #vernon smut #choi seungcheol smut #jeon wonwoo smut #kim mingyu smut #chwe hansol smut #seventeen scenarios

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