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inknopewetrust · 2 months

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��𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬

Summary: In the volatile nature of tornado hunting, you crossed paths with Scott on more than one occasion–each time resulting in a piece of yourself being left behind with the man larger than the storms you chased. [Scott x Fem!Reader; Twisters] [wc: 15.7k]

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, pinv, oral (f receiving), angsty-romance, Scott is… a complicated asshole who reader can totally fix… right? Right!?

Quick Links: Masterlist

You weren’t sure where it ended or began, but you could feel it coming in your bones. Not the whirring of a drone or the rumbles of thunder—the fast, blistering speed of tires rolling toward the funnel that made your heart beat twice as fast as it did before.

It was tornado season after all… it never surprised you.

The skies of Oklahoma rose into a gloomy beige on a Friday afternoon. Heat lingered in the air, heavy and unyielding. It was dense outside of the small gas station that sat alongside the fork in the road.

Everyone could smell it: the anticipation of a storm. They broke earlier every year and this season appeared to be no different at first glance. The radios were filled with the familiar constant chatter, the computer screens you shared with Dexter in the lot were running the same radar’s the morning predicted.

Not everyday was as exciting as the next, however.

“Shit,” Dexter mumbled, running a hand over his eyes in frustration as the storms weren’t breaking that evening. His glasses perched on his fingers before he brought his hand back down to his computer.

It was just rain. In an era of record tornados, tonight would be quiet sans the few sparks of lightning and the thunder that followed.

“Nothin’” he flicked the laptop screen closed before him, knocking you on the shoulder as your own screen took all your attention.

Your eyes were entranced by the Doppler's movements. The back and forth of the projections coming and going in shades of green and yellow but no red. No purples or the darkest blues to send the lot of you running toward danger.

Dexter bumped you again with a focused effort.

“What?” You mumbled, clicking the refresh button on the radar’s program. Nothing changed.

“I think we’re done for the day.”

“It’s like six-thirty, Dex” you shrugged, turning to face him with a squint as the half-set sun was in your line of vision. “Somethin’ might pop up.”

“Omega says not,” he put a finger on his closed computer. “It dissipates before it can get out of bed.”

“Yeah,” you sighed as he did before. “Shit.”

Breathing in deeply, you could still smell it. Those storms were on the horizon and just waiting for the perfect moment to grow but you all have waited around these parts of Oklahoma begging for something that was not going to appear a hundred times.

Today was just one of those days.

You shut your own computer with the thud. Rolling your shoulders, Dexter clapped a hand on your back and chuckled at the prospect of another day without a tornado.

“Tomorrow’s chances are just as good,” he reassured.

“I know,” you nodded. The buzzing of Lily’s drone overhead swished by slowly as it came to land.

“Why don’t you go tell ‘em and I’ll clean up before we move out, hm? Get dinner and relax.”

Dexter didn’t allow the chance for you to argue back and made for the computers immediately. You groaned, standing up from the milk crate Boone scoured from the side of the road for “portable seating.” They were a bitch to your back and after sitting and watching the screen for what felt like hours, your body was screaming for help.

You stretched your arms high above your shoulders to rest them interlocked on your head and closed your eyes.

Maybe it was a sign. No storms, good sleep, and a hot meal from a wayside diner in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere. It was comfort, it was home and it was a relief for an instant that the skies were tame. No one would die from nature tonight in the vicinity of your chasing—an adjustment from the last month.

So you envisioned in your closed eyes the peace the evening would bring. How the sheets of the motel’s bed would feel against your legs; the sound of air conditioning fanning and sending you into a deep slumber.

The imagination of an evening molded into scenes under your eyelids.

Like the thunder everyone wished to hear, you could practically feel the rumblings of his fingertips as you imagined them on your skin. A lingering hope of days gone by without seeing him and his team of assholes started to stir in your mind every time it had a second to not think of the weather.

You hated the way it made you feel.

Like a goddamn school girl who couldn’t control a crush but it was more than that. It wasn’t a fatal fantasy you’d imagined every time your paths crossed but one cemented in your memory to hold you off until the next time he caught you in the same place.

And you saw him in your idea of a decent night.

In the distance, Dani and Lily called your name from outside of the RV. You cracked an eye open to see the two of them waving, pointing toward the diner attached to the station.

Your arms fell, turning to Dexter who passed it off.

“Go,” he shook his head, “I’ll join you when I’m done.”

You’d be lying if the sound of food didn’t sound wonderful that very second. The day had been nothing but driving and sitting. Every bit of food was junk besides the apple Boone threw your way at noon. He had been the first one to run into the diner an hour before with Tyler hot on his tail.

They were gluttons for greasy homemade meals.

“Come on!” Dani yelled as she held open the door and you broke off from Dexter to join the two for dinner.

The diner was like any other hole in the wall establishment in middle America. Sparse hangings on the wall, chairs and booths made from cheap leather that had burns and slashes through them, and menus that haven’t been updated for twenty years.

They were the best places. They were what made the small towns in between the big ones staples. No one could pinpoint this town on a map but the second the tea is sipped and the spuds are downed, it’s something you couldn’t forget.

“We’re gonna shack up in Perry tonight,” Dani spoke with her mouth half full. “‘Bout a half hour from here.”

“Tyler alright with that?” Lily asked, glancing out the diner window. “I thought he wanted to stay ahead of them?”

Them.

You sipped on your iced tea casually.

“We will be heading in that direction anyway.”

“Ain’t there a lake down in Perry?” Lily inquired, racking her mind in hopes she could remember. Dani nodded and picked up her own glass.

“Mhm,” she hummed. “And I do plan on jumpin’ in it before we leave tomorrow.”

Lily smiled as she turned her attention to you. She wasn’t oblivious to your absence from the conversation. You were quiet and reserved. Maybe it was that time of the month or you had a bad day—but it was strange and she furrowed her brows, kicking at your foot with hers from under the table.

“Don’t got anything to say?” She asked, causing Dani to look over the glass at you.

“No,” you dismissed. “Just tired, that’s all.”

“I’ve got Advil if you need it,” Lily went to dig in her bag but you stopped her.

“No, no,” you shook your head. “Really. Just feels like a long day is all. Finding nothin' is frustrating and this heat..."

“I get you,” Dani scoffed and put her cup down. “This heat is awful. I think Boone’s music is starting to get to me.”

You laughed knowingly. “It’s better than listening to him scream into the camera for twenty minutes."

The two snickered at the thought. Anything was better than the sound of his screeching. You pushed around the remnants of your meal around your plate when the waitress came back to fill up the glasses, leaving the check. A chorus of 'thank you's' were followed by the bell ringing above the diner's rickety door.

"Oh Lord," Lily muttered and went back to looking out the window. She crossed her arms like a pouting child. Out the window, Boone was yelling inaudible jests at the white shirts making their way into the establishment.

"What?" You asked her, turning over in your seat to see the crew of Storm Par filing in one by one.

In their uniforms of slacks and white shirts, they gave their most polite smiles to the staff that ate out of the palms of their hands. Dani let out a groan of frustration. Rich men, educated men. Men.

"Just the fraternity, Doc," Dani replied as though your eyes couldn't see that. You shot her a judgmental scowl before glancing at the group again.

"I thought I told you not to call me that."

It was the PhD in physics that earned you the affectionate, but infuriating title.

"Eh," Dani popped a piece of ice between her teeth. "You ain't like them though. They're all assholes and you're only an asshole when we can't get the signal to work and you wanna watch Love Island."

You laughed, chucking your napkin across the table which she dodged gracefully.

"Don't act like you're not obsessed with it too," Dani narrowed her eyes in faux offense.

The check at the end of the table blew in the wind generated by a few of Storm Par's team walking past. None of them spared a glance in the direction of the three of you. Out of spite or hatred, you wouldn't know but it was always the same way with most of them. It wasn't unwarranted, however. Your squad from Arkansas were known to give them as much grief as they gave you all.

You reached out to slap the check back down on the table. A glance up toward the retreating Storm Par members told you that their leaders hadn't joined the bunch at the table. You hadn't seen him enter the diner when you looked before.

But you knew the second the bell rang above the door again that it was him and likely Javi beside him. You could feel it in the air just as you did the storms. Everything shifted. The pace of your heart, the rigidness of your back, and you had done all you could in your power to keep it as quiet as possible.

You painted yourself a fake in front of the friends you adored because of Scott. He didn't ask you to, yet there was nothing more solid than agreeing to never speak of what you'd do for a second alone with him.

And you weren't sure what they'd say if they knew you were sleeping with the enemy.

With the check in your hands, you grabbed your bag from the seat and dismissed Lily and Dani's movements to split the check.

"I've got this one," you assured them. "My treat."

Lily protested and continued to shuffle through her bag. "At least lemme get the tip. How much?" Her wallet was filled with receipts and loose change.

"No," you shook your head. "Go on to the truck and I'll pay and we can head out."

Dani crunched the ice loudly. "You sure?"

"Positive," you nodded, giving them both a smile that could have read tense. You didn't mean it to be but it did. "Go on," you tipped your head. “Dex didn’t eat so I’ll order and run out when it’s ready.”

Dani eyed you as Lily put away her wallet. "I don't want to leave you alone with them in here," she knocked her head in the direction of Scott and Javi who settled along the lunch counter beside the register.

Dani watched them carefully whenever it was only the three of you. She trusted the men on your team like brothers but the others, Storm Par or any of the other groups that followed in the same direction, she held at a distance. Not only had they been somewhat competitors in the field, they were jerks and Dani could not help but be repulsed by it.

Scott looked in the direction of the small booth you all sat in, making contact with Dani's harsh stare. His face was blank—as Dani had come to realize was its factory setting. He was stoic, a wooden board of a man who was a head taller than his companion even as they sat. Dani always thought he looked miserable.

In her eyes, he was generically handsome with dimples on the sides of his cheeks. She saw other storm chasers give him eyes but he never entertained it. He was boring, a dud.

Not one person could make that man crack a smile or have an ounce of joy weep from him—but she supposed it was perfect for the work they conducted.

"I can handle myself, Dani–besides, there are other people in here."

She shook her head, souring her face. "You know I don't like 'em."

"Neither do I," you laughed. Liar. "I got this. It’s okay."

Dani trusted your word and exited the diner with Lily while you made your way to the register.

Scott had taken his baseball cap off his head, sliding it into the back pocket of his pants and pushing his sunglasses into his hair. Javi made niceties with the same waitress that had assisted you upon your approach. You saddled up to lean on the counter in the empty space between Scott and the register that broke apart the counter from the other patrons. It wasn't crowded as a restaurant in the middle of a city would be. It was filed with locals that made it feel welcoming.

"I'll be with you in one second, ma'am," the woman who served, in a name-tag labeled 'Kathy', called over to you as she jotted down Javi's order.

You took the bag from your shoulder to place it on the counter in front of you. The base of it brushed Scott's shoulder, nudging him purposefully.

"Sorry," you said quietly as Javi finished up beside him. Scott looked over at you–his stormy blues baring into you and sending you into a spiral of blind faith.

“Not out wrangling tornados tonight?” He questioned in a condescending tone. His brow quirked in a challenge: play along. You could never be civil in public.

“Maybe if you were good at reading radar you’d know that already.”

He scoffed. “Wh—“

“And for you sir?” Kathy, the waitress, cut him off with a tap of her pen. Javi stifled a laugh as Scott faced her with a half-baked expression of annoyance. You turned to thumbing through your bag for your wallet.

“Ah,” Scott stuttered as he looked over the menu. “A coffee—“

“Cream or Sugar?” Kathy drawled. She must have been in her sixties but she was giving Scott the best impression of a flirt at the moment.

“Black, please.”

“Of course, honey.”

Javi turned his head away from Scott to chuckle like a little boy. You smiled to yourself as the contents of your bag were suddenly so very interesting.

“And a… turkey sandwich with fries.”

Kathy gave Scott a cheeky, wide smile with painted red lips. The thinning drugstore paint was wearing thin beyond the lining and her hay bale, yellow as corn hair was doing nothing for her.

“That’ll be right up for you boys, okay?” She gave them a wink and tore the order from her pad. “Don’t forget to order somethin’ sweet before you go—on the house.”

Kathy walked away with a sway of her hips which only worsened Javi’s laughter. The laughs spilled from his mouth without remorse as his friend tried to not turn an ugly shade of red.

“Holy,” Javi dragged out the syllables in exasperation. “You got yourself a cougar, Scott!”

You slipped your wallet to the side of your bag and looked upright waiting for her return.

“I didn’t know Mr. Storm Par had it in him,” you said, which drove Javi even deeper in laughter. Scott sighed heavily, shaking his head in disbelief. “She’ll give a napkin with a lipstick kiss… just watch.”

“Ooh man,” Javi crooned. “I ain’t missin’ that!” He got up from his stool.

“See you out there,” Javi said your name kindly—a rarity in these parts. He surely didn’t know about you and Scott but he treated you decently all the same.

He rushed off to the small hallway labeled ‘bathroom’. Small mercies for a second alone.

“Did you have to say that?” Scott commented the moment Javi was out of an earshot. He turned back to look at you so you turned to look at him with your hip digging into the counter. His legs spread wide as if to accommodate you.

“It was too good not to,” you admitted with a grin. “The old ladies love you.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, gazing at your face as his eyes darted to take you in. They trailed from your eyes to lips to chin to chest to… everywhere.

“It’s been a minute.”

“Two weeks,” you agreed.

“You been counting?”

“No,” you said quickly. “I just—“

“I was joking,” he clarified with a sly, cunning smirk.

“Ha,” you panned. “You should think about going into another career after this. I hear they’re looking for comedians.”

“Maybe I will,” he suggested. “I can mention the skeleton that tried to get with me in a diner. Though,” he thought on it, “her lipstick might find me in nightmares so probably not.”

You laughed and he smiled—also a rarity in these parts.

“Where are you off to?” He asked.

“Perry for the night. Headin’ in that direction afterwards.”

Scott hummed, tapping one of his hands on the counter as the other rested on his knee. Your eyes moved down his body in the same way he did yours.

“You?” You asked him.

“I think we’ll be makin’ our way there too.”

“Hm,” you thrummed. Kathy caught your vision as she gathered Javi’s glass and Scott’s mug in her hands. “Then I should be expecting you?”

Scott nodded his head. “Motel?”

“Right off the highway. Easy on and off.”

Scott made a noise of agreement. Kathy placed their beverages in front of them with a sweet smile. Scott glanced at the mug but returned his attention to you which she frowned at—you found it amusing. There couldn’t have been many attractive men waltzing through the diner on a weekly basis. Scott was a treat.

“Anything I can get you, hun?”

Scott shook his head. Kathy held out her hand for you to hand over the check. She wasn’t as wordy with you.

You glanced over his shoulder to the table of his crew in the back who were minding their own business. Javi had to return and put the window, your team of misfits were packing up the vehicles.

You took a chance and lifted a hand to his shirt’s collar. Taking the fabric between your fingertips, you putzed as he looked at you with a gleam in his eyes that made your stomach do summersaults.

It’s the kind of look that made your heart sink when he was so rude on the road.

“Text me when you get there, okay?” You asked him. You adjusted his collar before dropping your hand at the sight of Javi leaving the restroom.

Scott caught your eyes change and turned back around in his seat.

Kathy laid the receipt for you to sign on the counter with a bang.

“Sign, please.”

You were quick to sign and exit the space before Javi could even sit down, forgetting Dexter's order. Kathy took the receipt and while stapling it to the order, she tipped her head in the direction of you.

“She’s pretty,” was all Kathy said and left as Javi returned.

“Did she give you her number?” Javi prompted Scott who passed a confused face to his friend.

“What?”

“The waitress,” Javi chuckled. “You get ‘er number or what?”

Scott closed his eyes and swallowed the nerves that built rapidly. He thought Javi was talking about you. He may have been an ace at MIT and a dependable guy on the battlefield, but Scott nearly jumped out of the diner at the thought of Javi or anyone else finding out about his escapades with you.

It was a good secret. A great one, if he let himself think about it too long. But he’d be damned to throw everything away for the sake of a lay in the middle of Oklahoma.

And if he told himself that enough, he’d fathomed he would start believing it.

The motel was what you had dreamed about.

Soft sheets, working air conditioning, and a lovely continental breakfast in the mornings with boxes of cereal and packaged muffins. It wasn’t a five-star resort but they did the job. It was perfectly imperfect for what you were used to on the daily.

It was so much better than the floor of the RV and so unusual for the types of places Dani and Lily often chose.

When you arrived at the motel, Scott was receiving a napkin with a kiss and a number on it that went straight in the trash. Javi kept rolling with laughter and for the time being, it was something he would not live down.

But both of your minds were preoccupied with what would hold true as the sun finally set on that day.

Just like the storms, you weren’t sure where this ended or it began. You had established a routine without realizing it was happening and this game of chances was slowly evolving into a feeling difficult to hold on to.

Maybe it was everything in between the nights that made it more difficult than it needed to be.

You ached for them nonetheless.

The jolt of anticipation hit you about an hour after arriving. Showered and clean, you sat around while the news played lifelessly in the background waiting for your phone to ding but it never did. It sat there mocking you every minute that passed.

Seconds turned into minutes that turned into hours that turned into two.

You half thought about going to bed before a knock sounded at your door. Neglecting to view the visitor through the peephole, you were taken aback by the entrance.

Scott made quick work of pushing you backwards and shutting the door closed with a thud. A backpack landed in the space between the door and chair. His hands were on you immediately, immodestly cupping your face and the back of your head with a force as he kissed you—hard.

You wrapped your arms around his forearms in support of your uneasy feet. A thrill ran down your spine at the feel of his hands on you.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled between frantic kisses that took your breath away. “They,” kiss, “wouldn’t,” kiss, “stop fucking talking.”

You ran your hands down his forearms gently. “It’s okay,” you reassured him. Ignoring your doubts would manifest itself another day.

Scott nodded, his nose knocking yours before leaning back in and kissing you slowly. His mouth captured your lips softly, gently as if there was no worry of time at all. His hands trailed themselves along the sides of your neck, to your shoulders, letting yours fall from his arms in the process.

You tilted your head upwards at an angle to open up to him. His mouth moved unhurried as the sound of your heart rushed to your ears.

He broke the kiss at the feel of your hands inching toward the buckle of his jeans.

“Woah,” he chuckled lowly but didn’t pull away and didn’t tell you no. “I don’t think my old lady would appreciate you havin’ your hands all over me.”

He let you lift the tails of his dress shirt out of his pants. At a quick pace you undid the buttons.

“She was tellin’ me all about this great peach pie,” Scott kept on and on as he peppered kisses on your face. “And then,” he whispered and shrugged off his shirt. “Then she left me this nice farewell note with a kiss on it.”

Your hands stilled on his abdomen. Head pulling away rapidly with glittering amusement in your eyes, you scoffed.

“No shit… really?”

“Oh yes, really,” Scott confirmed. He stepped away from you and stripped himself of the undershirt he had on. He moved over to the bed to work on his shoes.

“Can’t go to that diner again I gather.”

Scott smiled which made his dimples stand out. He looked tired but present, and that was all you could ask for at that moment.

“Not unless I want to be scorned for never callin’ her back.”

“Eh,” you picked up the remote on the bedside table and turned up the sound. “Give it ten years.”

Scott looked over his shoulder at you as a boot dropped on the floor.

“That’s brutal.”

“Well,” you said, dropping onto the duvet. “What can I say?”

You crawled over to him and got on your knees behind him. Scott leaned his head backwards against your chest as you wrapped your arms around him. You could smell the earth in his hair. The darkness of it couldn’t shield the way a day's work remained.

Underneath your fingertips his shoulders eased up. He relaxed in your touch.

“I was counting,” you admitted. The days between.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “Me too.”

You kept one hand wrapped around his shoulders but moved the other to turn his face to the side. You planted a light kiss on his cheek, resting your forehead on the spot after. You savored the small, delicate moments that were few and far on the road.

Scott patted your arm when the quiet became too much.

“Lay down,” he instructed.

You untangled yourself from him and fell backwards on the bed. Splayed on the mattress with your knees bent, he slipped his socks off and turned around with one leg perched on the bed and the other on the floor. Scott’s hand traced the lines on your bent knees formed by the lighting of the room. He watched you adjust your body for comfort in his observance.

He’d be a fool to say you weren’t igniting a fire in him.

There were nights where he’d find you angry at him, the fuck that followed heated and he’d mark you with bruising kisses to remind you of it. There were some hurried and frantic—usually following a close encounter by either of you but the ones where it was slow… they were rare.

And looked down at you with adoration he couldn’t express. His eyes were telling yet he never said words that reaffirmed he cared for you more than he looked forward to your next meeting or that he thought about you—in the shower or in passing, Scott never clarified.

Scott pushed open your legs to accommodate him. He took in the oversized tourist tee that helped cover the pair of sleep shorts of his next conquest. Without hesitation, he grabbed at the waistband of the shorts and pulled them down your legs quickly.

He ticked at you at the sight of you bare before him.

“Were you expecting someone?” He chastised jokingly. “That’s a little presumptuous.”

“Maybe,” you cooed. He grasped you by the back of your knees and pulled you down the bed before getting on his own.

“There’s always a some guy followin’ us around in these parts. Sometimes I’ll let him in.”

“Oh?” His breath was hot on your thigh. A kiss laid as he maneuvered himself to your center and you tossed your head back to stare at the ceiling.

“Mhm,” you hummed. You bit your lip to fight a smile when his familiar lips kissed at the crux of your leg and groin.

“Handsome with this cute smile no one ever sees.”

You felt your breath stagger as he moved to the most wanton part of you and licked a line through you. His eyes watched you intently; the slow rise and fall of your chest, the way your hands begged for something to grasp on. His nose bumped your clit as he got comfortable with a rhythm. Scott savored the way his tongue gathered your wetness, pushing against your plush walls.

You were trying so hard to be quiet. The walls of hotels were thin—you weren’t an idiot. It was a miracle that the man you fucked wasn’t a talker most of the time.

Scott’s tongue was warm against you. Lapping in a way that made you lose the breath inside. He was slow, soft in his movements that made you want to squirm.

You could feel your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. Head pressing harshly against the comforter of the bed, your body hooked itself into an arch at his ministrations. A lewd, antagonizing sound of your pleasure being had by a man whose eyes bore deep into the way your body moved at his will sent you spinning.

Scott shifted himself on the bed. His feet propelled him upwards but he never let go, his hands nor mouth. He pushed you upwards on the bed and wrapped an arm around your leg to rest on your lower abdomen.

The change caught the words in your mouth.

Scott, occupied, still watched you unravel like putty. His eyes watched you focus on anything but his face and in an attempt to get your attention, his hand on your stomach moved to fiddle with your shirt that had not made it to the floor.

Your hand was quick to fold over his, squeezing tightly. His fingers flexed back.

“Oh,” you keened. In an effort to stay quiet, your other hands fingers pressed against your lips. The fire within you grew hotter.

Moving his hand from yours, he shifted to spread open your lips and gather the wetness on his tongue. Scott titled his head upwards and sucked on your clit that had you spinning. Your free hand went straight to his head and settled in his brown locks.

“F-fuck,” you stuttered as your toes curled and your hips rutted against his face unabashedly.

Scott’s other hand was long missing from your body as the one focused on you was hard at work with your satisfaction. He palmed at himself in his pants the best he could. The angle wasn’t working and soon, he’d need a reprieve.

The muscles in your body tensed. They began to shake not from a release, but an anticipation of one growing. The more you moved, the more Scott wanted to let go and slip inside of you.

He slowed his tongue to small, sensual flicks reminiscent of him bringing you back from a high you hadn’t yet reached. Pulling back on you, his lips caught with a trail of your slick and his spit. Scott ran his tongue over his lips—taking with him the taste of you.

“Move up,” he instructed, voice hoarse.

You sat up on your elbows and moved upwards on the bed as he stood up. He walked back to the chair beside the door where his belongings had ended up when he first burst through the door.

If you were attempting to be sly, your eyes navigated his body on display. Scott fully undid his belt and chucked his phone on the chair beside it. He shuffled out of his pants and briefs—pausing when the screen on his phone lit up with a text.

You couldn’t read it from the distance between you but he left it unread, turning back to you as your focus narrowed to his dick freely standing.

“My eyes are up here,” he rolled his eyes.

“I’m admiring,” you drawled. You ran a hand up your body and bent it behind your head on the pillows. “Can’t a girl admire? I mean…”

“She can,” he nodded in implying you can.

Scott took himself in his hands, pumping as he approached the bed again. He didn’t need to ask the ways in which to make both of you happy. He could read the room and the days and knew that what you both needed was something simple.

But sometimes, something simple was enough.

He joined you on the bed, tapping on your leg that blocked his goal.

“Come on,” his words were cut and dry and quiet.

You moved your leg back down as you sat up to meet him. Him, on his knees before you with his length in his hand and you, splayed before him wet and wanting. You reached to replace his hand with yours but he shook his head, knocking his chin at your shirt with a disapproving shake.

The worn Ole Miss letters standing stark amidst the nakedness of the room. Doc.

Huffing, you were quick to lose the shirt.

“Better?” You asked him. Reaching back toward to replace his hand, he removed his and let you take him.

“Perfect,” he groaned at the feel of your hand.

He was heavy and warm in your palm; watching with an intensity that only beckoned you to go further—sliding your hand along him delicately and squeezing just enough at the base for him to emit a grunt of satisfaction. Scott’s hands caressed the sides of your thighs as his mind went blank.

“Scott,” you purred. Sitting up on your knees and never letting him go. Your other hand wrapped around his shoulders as you pressed your chest against his. His hands were hot on your hips and ass.

You lazily drew your lips along his jaw to ear.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whispered. His heart was beating so fast. “I want you to fuck me into this mattress and make me think about it for days.”

Scott’s eyes were closed. His breathing unsteady and head pushing into yours. He gripped your body tightly.

“Baby—“ the pet name slipped out before he had a chance to take it back. Too personal? He wasn’t sure. But he couldn’t think straight. With your hand on his dick, all he could think about was how fast he could get inside of you.

“I thought we said—“

“We’ll be quiet,” you reassured him. “I didn’t say hard.”

Oh. You wanted to be fucked softly.

The kind of sex that left a heavy haze in the air. The one that drew everything out of a person and left it there, lingering, as if the pieces of them were nothing more than particles in space.

It was the sex you couldn’t turn back from.

You were too far gone.

You had been for quite some time yet never slipped up. You enjoyed what small, unreliable fling you had no matter how it grew inside of you. Scott wasn’t a man you’d dream about as a teen thinking of your future. He was a certified asshole with an ego as big as the fucking ocean but it slithered past defenses and ended up knocking at your gate.

But you loved the sinful way it made you feel.

“Do you wanna fuck me?” You cooed. You careened in his touch, pitching upwards as he cupped your ass roughly and relished the feel of your breasts on his chest. Everything about you was so soft.

“You know I do,” he panted. You stroked him still.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You positioned your head in front of his, kissing him gently on the lips before lowering back down onto the bed with your knees parted. You let him go and his cock bobbed.

And he did as you asked.

When Scott fucked you, the heavens blushed from above. He took his dick in his hand again, positioning himself to be in front of your pussy that was still shining with the wetness he left. He rubbed his tip up and down, gathering the wetness he could. Each motion threatening to push him in faster than either of you wanted.

This could be hours or forever and you’d never want it to end.

He stopped at your entrance to look in your wanton eyes. They begged him, they wanted him without a word. He guided his cock into you slowly. Your cunt, warm and inviting, welcomed him smoothly. Pressing your head deep into the pillows, you let out weak gasps at his intrusion.

Your head was swirling. You were full of him.

Each touch and each thrust was sending you toward a tether that was breaking string by string.

Scott was calculated but not over aware. He listened to your calls—the shallow, meek whimpers at the virility of his drives. He let you get lost; finding the stars in your eyes as he peered down at you until it became too much and Scott needed to feel you again.

Scott leaned down, taking your neck in both of your hands and kissing you deeply. Your hands glued themselves to the sides of his torso. His lips were a pillow in hot breaths; tongue sloppy when his hips ground into you faster than before.

His cock was splitting you. Thrust after thrust he gained the momentum of chasing a high. He never let you go; holding onto you whether delicate on your neck or grasping at your body, Scott palmed as you grew in want.

“Come on, come on,” he gritted through his teeth as you clenched around him. You weren’t registering the sounds of the headboard hitting the wall behind you. It was only you, Scott, and the sounds of your pleasure.

He picked up the rapid movements as best he could. It was so easy to lose himself in you. He, the most rigid man in both word and action, came alive at the opportunity to simply let go. Those words were strange—to let go—but he had found it in your meetings.

Scott Miller was many things, yet fucking you unbeknownst to the world was his greatest secret in his cruelty.

He watched you wither or waver, hands shifting to hold his face close to yours. You kept muttering nonsensical deliverances at your hips jutting up to join his. It was growing fierce—your end. The orgasm eating away at your resolve. Scott’s eyes were battering down on your own, nodding his head with eager anticipation of the rush of your finish.

He nodded, chin bumping yours as your mouths declined to collide in a spectacle. Your breaths beat at the rapid nature of your heart; panting for respite in the low light of the hotel’s table lamp and glow of the television.

“That’s it,” Scott coaxed. His silence in the efforts of his body ceasing. “Come on.” His teeth bit at his words.

“F-fuck,” you stuttered out. The wave was approaching. It tingled in your toes and laid heavy in your core. “Shit,” you gasped quietly. “Oh!”

Your mouth fell open and he took the opportunity to kiss you, tugging on your bottom lip as he pulled away and the curl of your toes became too real. You kept squeezing him, emboldening him to come with you.

Scott felt your muscles contract before it was nothing but a shake of your legs. You arched your back into him, allowing him to draw you close as he pounded into your finish to race to his own.

There was nothing in your eyes except the stars you couldn’t see. It was fuzzy, exhilarating as the pulses rushed through you in a couple, disjointed and erratic bursts. You couldn’t help but shake; it was overstimulating as Scott continued to push against your walls.

You swallowed his grunts, clinging onto his shoulders and cupping his face as he drew his arms under your back and repositioned you. He was close, so close. The beads of sweat on his forehead called him to end—a sure sign of his stamina along the sheen that covered you.

His hips snapped in and out with a fury. The softness of his earlier actions were thrown out the window. He did as he believed, fucked you into a state where you’d remember it for days.

And then his tether broke too.

Scott held your hips against him tightly. He kissed your lips as he finished inside of you before deepening it.

Suddenly you weren’t going to remember the sex.

You were going to recall the way he kissed you after he made sure you both came. How he wouldn’t let you feel anything but his lips, his tongue, his teeth, until he was soft inside of you.

Scott left your lips with a faint, nearly absent smile.

“How’s that for remembering?”

He wasn’t one for validation. He didn’t seek your approval but it slipped out of him with the words he shouldn’t say.

You ran your tongue over your lips to wet them. “Mm,” you thought. “I might forget what it feels like to be kissed?”

Scott scoffed as you ran your fingers through his hair. He dipped his head again to kiss your shoulder, peppering kisses to your lips as he made a trail. He nuzzled his nose into the side of your face and could tell when your face broke out into a smile. Taking the chance, he tucked his forehead into the crux of your neck and shoulder. You squirmed with laughter but his hands held you steady.

“I’ll be heading to The City for a few days,” he grumbled into your neck. “We got a new truck.”

“The gang ain’t enough anymore? You’re gonna outnumber us.”

Scott shook his head and began to unravel. He lifted up from you, slipping out as the cold met wet in the air. You could not help but draw your brows together at the discomfort—Scott’s thumb rubbed soothing circles on your thigh.

He started off the bed and into the bathroom attached to help clean you up. Tossing your worn shirt back on the bed before shuffling into his briefs and pants again. You sat up in confusion.

“Aren’t you stayin’?” You asked. “I thought we’d have a few hours.”

Maybe it had been dangerous to voice hope.

To voice and acknowledge the misery of missing him when it hurt to do so.

He shook his head again and went to his phone. “I gotta get that truck before she flies in.”

She. “Who?” You questioned with concern. You weren’t exclusive, you weren’t supposed to be jealous.

“Some girl Javi invited out for a few days,” he dismissed. Scott’s eyes were glued to the phone in his hand. “She works for NWS.”

“To help you?”

“Why else?” He sounded disgruntled at the fact. But he ignored your tone too. “Said she was a friend from college.”

“What’s the NWS got to do with your work?”

“She’s just helpin’ us find the tornados, not anything else. We don’t need help in what we do.”

You weren’t oblivious to Storm Par—you’d be a fucking fool not to be. It was something you detested, despised, about him and if you thought about it too long, you felt even the slightest but guilty of letting your thoughts wander to him when you were set on doing good.

He took from people in pain for what? His own personal gain? The money he raked in on the side of allowing a maniac of a man to fund his projects?

You knew there was a piece of him that strung you along not for sex or the fondness of it, but out of necessity to follow.

His team of storm chasers wouldn’t have the opportunities if they didn’t follow Tyler and the crew.

You were just collateral for the course. A “get love quick scheme” in the center of a raging cyclone of fucked up felonies and a YouTube channel of misfits.

Scott let his fingers move briskly over the keyboard of his phone.

“When is she coming?” You feigned to ponder instead.

“Monday.”

“So that means you have to leave now?”

Oh Lord Almighty. You sounded pathetic. Knees pulled up to your chest, holding the pieces of you together as you became forgotten.

You may have done things that made your momma blush but you cowering under the idea that a man is gonna leave you cold after a good roll in the sheets would set her aflame.

“Have to,” he tossed his phone back on the chair and took a new shirt out from his backpack. “For business on Sunday with Riggs before we head out. We agreed to…” he went back to his phone to check the time. “A two o’clock departure time.”

It wasn’t even fucking twelve thirty but hey, he couldn’t be seen, right?

“Bullshit,” you let fall out.

“What?” Scott picked it up. His head snapped to you.

“I said it’s bullshit,” you said a bit louder for him to hear. “I don’t get it, I don’t.”

“What don’t you ‘get’?” He had a lacing of judgment in his voice. It could have been the MIT superiority in him that festered with the ever mounting praise of his colleagues.

“I just don’t know when it will be enough for all of you,” you scoffed. “You pour money down drains for machines and tech and then you stockpile tragedies we can’t even keep up with. And now you’ve got the NWS on your side? The ones who are supposed to care about keeping us safe?”

“It’s freelance,” he pointed out while tucking in his shirt. He did up the belt in a flash. “And these people don’t need what’s left for them after it’s all gone. You know how hard it is for them to rebuild.”

“But those are their homes, Scott. What if it was your home or my home or your parents?”

“I’d figure we’d all end up in different places anyway,” he tucked his phone in his back pocket.

You shook your head at him, looking away to focus on the TV. Muttering an “unbelievable” under your breath, you began to wonder the reasons why he even bothered to show up.

They drove an entire team to Perry to sleep in a run of the mill hotel or perhaps that was second to Scott getting his fill. He just needed one good fuck to send him off and running to his next paycheck.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Scott concluded dispassionately. That stone cold, humorless man replaced whoever burst through the door.

“We both have jobs to do. Just stay in your lane and I’ll be in mine.”

Oh Christ he made you fume.

“You can be a real jackass, you know that?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You aren’t tellin’ me anything I ain’t heard before, honey.”

“Oh fuck off!” You shouted a bit too loudly. He slung his cap back on his head. “You’re such a piece of shit.”

“Then why tell me you were gonna be here?” He hummed an ask, approaching the bed with intent. You looked up at him as he settled in the spot next to you with his feet on the floor and arm outstretched to hold onto the headboard.

“Why ask me to sleep with you or stay or kiss you or whatever else just to hate me after it’s all done?”

“I didn’t ask to hate you.”

“You don’t hate me,” he clarified. “You just hate the way you feel about me.”

“You’re selfish,” you settled on.

“You’re entitled,” Scott countered. The Ole Miss on your shirt burned.

“You don’t care about anyone except yourself.”

And that pained you.

“You care about everyone else far too much,” he pulled his head toward you. His eyes flicked between your lips and eyes and you wanted to punch him and kiss it away.

All you wanted was to have a good night. To be worshiped in a quiet space and he gave you that, even if brief.

“Sometimes I don’t know why we even try.”

He was taken aback by it. You both were two people on very different ends of a string that snapped you together. It wasn’t perfect but it worked for the most part.

“Then why do we?” He shouldn’t have said it yet he did.

“You can’t even bear to stay,” you whispered. For a second, you thought you saw clarity in those cloudy eyes. “You can’t even fucking hold me after what we did.”

“I have to leave. I can’t stay.”

“You don’t get it do you?”

Scott breathed in deeply, declining the sentiment with a toss of his head.

“I gotta go,” he said quietly instead. He took your chin in his hand, knocking it gently to the side.

“I don’t know how you do it,” was all you could muster.

And then he left without another word.

In Boone’s mind, it did not matter if the sky was at its darkest, a joint never waited to be smoked when necessary.

He had woken about an hour before as Storm Par’s slamming of car doors rustled him from slumber. The RV wasn’t the most perfect place to reside while traversing wild weather but he loved it all the same. He rolled off the bunk without notice of Dexter who would have surely scolded him for partaking at such a late hour.

So, he snuck into the truck and lit up in the quiet solitude of night without interruption.

It wasn’t until an hour later when the drowsy feel of his tingles began to wear into sleep that he began to see things he’d question.

Boone rubbed the tired from his eyes the same time a door opened up to his right. He ducked into the front seat as though what he was doing was far from normal and spied the invasion of the public space.

Down to the right, Scott exited the room with a scowl on his face Boone could see in the dark. A backpack slung over his shoulder, he looked frustrated compared to the blasé he was used to. Scott walked past Boone without noticing and hopped into one of Storm Par’s trucks.

Boone remained ducked as he thought back to the room. Scott settled in the passenger seat before reclining it back to sleep. He disappeared from Boone’s view and the latter looked to the motel rooms again.

Even in his foggy memory, he recalled Lily sticking a crumpled piece of paper in the cup holder for Tyler to use. It had the address of the motel and the room numbers reserved. He scouted the cup holders until his fingers grasped the paper’s corner.

“34221 Sli-“ he rumbled off as he read the note. His eyes traveled down to the rooms.

Lily room nine.

Tyler room thirteen.

Dani room twenty-one.

And then his eyes widened in curiosity at your name finely written and a twenty-two carved next to it. Those same numbers were lightly illuminated by the light above the door.

“No shit,” Boone chuckled in disbelief.

The next few days were nothing but a blur.

The sky was like that too. Cloudy and gray. It seemed to reflect whatever was left inside of you to stir and gather into something larger as your memories of Scott overplayed in your mind with poor restraint.

God, how you wished it would just rain and swallow you whole.

It was absurd—feigning such disappointment over a man who was not your significant other but did everything in solitude to appear that way. He loved on you and left you cold with nothing to warm the thoughts of what it would be like when you saw him again.

And when you did, it was disappointing.

The woman they had brought on to help was far too good to be mixed in with a crowd of degenerate Ivy pricks but she stayed with them longer than she should have. In their paths, it felt like they crossed yours even more than before.

You were struck trying to avoid Scott’s entire being when his truck passed or when they stopped at the same station or motel or place as you and yours.

It started to eat at you, the avoidance.

On an early Tuesday morning, you felt the winds begin to change again. Tyler blew a tire the night before and broke his jack trying to fix it. The lot of you ended up in the parking lot of a rundown gas station as the sun began to rise when the white trucks came barreling down the road and straight into the parking lot.

Dani booed them from the stairs of the RV.

“Can’t your just leave us the hell alone?” Lily complained. It had been four days straight of interactions with them and it had caused nothing but trouble. You tried your best to stay normal but Boone kept sitting by you as if he wanted to hold your hand.

It peeved you to think he knew something was wrong.

“They just love us too much,” Dani joked as she waved at the group exiting their trucks. Kate, their newest addition, smiled in the distance.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Boone acknowledged from beside you.

“Hey Storm Par!” Dani shouted. “Go find your own fucking tornados!”

Beside their trucks, Javi scoffed and shook his head.

“What?” Kate inquired, her eyes curious as they had been the last week. “They’re just jokin’ I’m sure.”

“Nah,” Javi replied. “They don’t like us the same as we don’t like them. I thought you’d pick up on that now.”

“Well sure,” Kate laughed at the ridiculousness of it. “But there’s more to this than that.”

There’s more to chasing than a fight.

“Yeah well, tell that to them.”

“They’re just shitheads,” Scott piped up on his approach. “Think they’re better than the rest of us because they’ve got a camera in their face.”

“They’ve been fine to me,” Kate defended. She watched as the so-called tornado wranglers bounced up from their seats and headed in her direction. The man with the bandana tried to coax you to join but you refused physically.

“It’s just all of you that rub them the wrong way.”

“Well it’s a two-way street.”

You go your way, and I’ll go mine.

Kate observed the carefree way in which everyone interacted with one another. The two other girls tugged on your arms to bring you to your feet against your will. She felt Scott shift on his feet beside her but didn’t dwell on it.

“They still got that reporter with ‘em,” she noted. “Must be an interesting bunch to write a story about.”

“When you put together people from seven different walks of life, you’re bound to get something good,” Javi agreed with her.

Scott shifted again and Kate looked up at him. He wore his sunglasses, therefore it was hard to see his eyes. But his face was set and jaw tight. His hands were dug into his pockets but the distaste rolled off of him in waves. She looked back into the direction of all of you.

Boone was running circles around the three girls as their arms were wrapped around each other. Friends. It reminded Kate too much of the ones she lost.

“Alright everyone,” Scott called out. “Five minutes and then we’re back on the road.”

The inside of the station was no different than any other. Five rows of food with a wall of freezers in the back, a broken counter with a tower of cigs and vapes waiting to be sold. Kate was reading the back of a SunChips bag when you all came in. The bell above the door sounding with a jingle, Dani and Lily’s laughter filled the space compared to the nonexistent chatter of Storm Par’s presence.

You held the door open for Tyler who gave a wink and a thanks that didn’t phase you as it would her. He was handsome, charming if a little obnoxious. He smiled at Kate and a part of her felt like running, the other falling.

You didn’t have the same spunk the others did. After they left your vicinity the smile on your face dropped and the shoulders were heavy. You passed Kate, giving her a small hello, before walking down the aisle. She peaked her head to the side of the stand.

“Find anything good?” Kate called out kindly. Her light Oklahoma twang cut through.

You glanced at her. “If you count fruit flavored Doritos good, then maybe we have different tastes.”

She chuckled and took it as a sign to approach.

You didn’t know much about Kate other than what Boone had dug up and what Scott had mentioned before she arrived. She was smart as a whip, a talented chaser, and one who made mistakes too.

“I don’t think those would be good in any situation.”

“We can agree there,” you mumbled. You picked up a small bag of Veggie Straws.

“So where are y’all chasing today?” Kate inquired.

“Why?” You countered. “So you can follow us around?”

“No,” she shook her head, feeling as though she offended you. “No… we can find our own. I was just wonderin’ if y’all wanted to go to this bar tonight.”

You furrowed your brows. Under the static lighting of the gas station mart, you were falling into confusion.

“Y’all as in… us?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. Kate was intrigued by what you did. The way you all risked so much for entertainment or maybe, for some of you, there was still an inch of science to be discovered.

The day after you all converged and she had a panic attack at the sight of the tornado, Kate spent the morning watching the videos posted from your channel. She was amazed by the thrill of what feelings Tyler and Boone could ooze out of the screen.

But she took a liking to the science you broke down for the average viewer. The way you taught amidst the chaos of wrangling tornadoes or shooting fireworks up the funnel.

“I thought we could all use a break,” she shrugged. “Javi and I have known each other for a long time and we used to stop there for line dancing on Thursdays.”

Well it just so happened to be a Thursday.

“And these fellas are more wound up than a goddamn toy,” she said under her breath. “I think a pitcher of beer and some good ol’ fashion Oklahoma hospitality would do us well.”

“Oh,” you replied softly. “Um, well… Ty makes a lot of those decisions so many you could ask him?”

Her eyes went bright. “Sure! I mean, I just thought I’d ask. They all talk about you so much… I think they’re all a little jealous.”

The thought of what Scott or any of the other Storm Par guys said about you and your friends bristled you. Scott’s face met you in dreams to remind you that he was never too far away and whatever strife you had with him and his work was always going to get in the way.

“Do they?” You commented. You could hear Javi in the aisle over talking to Scott about equipment.

“Mhm.”

“How charming,” you moved down the aisle to the other products but Kate didn’t follow. She looked in your direction but behind you.

Javi and Scott were at the end of the aisle beside you, the former shuffling behind you with a small ‘excuse me’ while the other stood there for a brief moment. You looked over your shoulder at him and his glasses were now gone, meeting your gaze for seconds too long.

“I was just inviting them to come with us,” Kate informed Javi who turned, eyeing you as your attention was distracted.

“Well I hope they can dance,” Javi .

Kate said your name which brought your attention back. You could feel Scott lingering, his stance imposing on your small aisle of snacks. You could always feel him around—a curse from caring about everyone too much. He wasn’t a small man or one who could hide in the shadows; he towered over the short shelves.

And that caught Tyler’s attention when the conversation became too loud to go unnoticed. He appeared out of thin air at the other end of the aisle by the door.

You wanted the bags of chips to swallow you whole. It was bad enough that you were stuck between the word you loved and the man who made it more complicated. It was bad enough that Tyler would certainly say yes to Kate’s proposal because he had been sneaking glances at her for a week.

He had shit-eating grin on his face as he walked closer to the group of you. His curious eyes monitoring the way Scott’s body was a little too close to yours.

A part of him believed they were cornering you for something. He wouldn’t put it past them for their sordid work in the hellish treatment of victims but hey, who was he to assume? You clutched the bag in your hands hard enough it could pop.

“We all good over here?” Tyler questioned Scott specifically. It was the only other guy he could size up to and play out a macho-man persona. “I don’t think I need to tell y’all that my team is my team, off limits to your work.”

Scott laughed, truly laughed at Tyler. Javi and Kate’s heads whipped around to Scott who rested an arm bent on the shelves beside him. Tyler focused on Scott in a labored calculation. He might have been the one they all liked the least.

“Did I say somethin’ funny?”

“Yeah,” Scott replied. His voice flat as always. “You did.”

Tyler looked around at Kate, Javi, and yourself who frowned.

“Care to explain what?”

Scott held back an amused smile as his eyes creased at the edges. You looked up at him with a warning. To your surprise, Scott looked back.

“No,” he responded curtly while looking at you. Off limits.

Kate sensed it. She did. There was something there—the air heavy like a storm.

“We’re gonna go to a dance bar in Enid tonight. I was just askin’ if all y’all would like to join us,” Kate pitched in to Tyler who slowly removed his gaze from Scott to her. His eyes let up softly.

“Dance bar? I don’t take any of these fellas for the dancing kind.”

“Don’t you know we’re all from here?” Javi asked him and he didn’t. You did but Tyler didn’t know much about any of them except their high degrees of achievement and late-stage superior fraternity behavior.

“So you’re tellin’ me that Mr. Stick-up-his-ass here can two step like it’s his birthday?”

“Oh you ain’t never see Scott dance,” Javi laughed loudly and gathered the rest of the wranglers to the aisle. “We can dance you into next week.”

“Alright,” Tyler nodded his head. One night wouldn’t hurt. “I’m good with it as long as it’s fine with Doc.”

Shit. They all gazed at you with bated breath. You could feel their beady eyes piercing; Scott's blistering eyes on the side of your head prompting you to try.

The last time you attempted to have a good evening it left you reeling. That was six days ago and you still replayed Scott’s words through your mind. Over and over and over and over again.

You’re entitled.

Stay in your lane.

You cared about everyone else too much.

Yet your lanes always converged. And you had the right to be entitled as the name suggested. Doc. You were overly qualified to be there and whatever flew your way, you deserved it.

And fuck, if you didn’t care about everyone else, you’d be a shell of a human. So hollow that your world would collapse.

By the laws of physics, you’d stay in motion. You’d keep going even if he pulled you backwards a million times.

You looked at Tyler, tossing your bag of chips in his direction.

“I’d love to go dancin’.”

Boone screeched a happy whistle and yelled to save him a dance. Scott seethed at those words as if he had a claim otherwise. It was an agreement to keep it quiet for the sake of your jobs, your sanity. But he was a covetous in his belongings and for whatever belief he had, you were his in all but name.

His actions made it difficult to fully manifest into reality. When you keep a locked door locked, you don’t deserve to enjoy it for free. It ate away at him differently than the anxiety of hurt ate at you.

He wanted to freely give himself to you–to be the man you'd see on dark nights in the solace of a bedroom or wherever you could find respite.

It was tough to be the person you thought you were.

It was much easier to be a coward.

The dance bar was packed full of locals and tourists alike. You couldn’t place the pull Enid had on people who weren’t from there but it was alive the moment you walked through the door.

Boone whistled at the sight of everything.

“I gotta hand it to ‘em. They sure can pick a place.”

“Have you never been dancin’ before?” You questioned, linking your arm in the space offered by him. He gave a cheeky smile and tipped his cowboy hat with a free finger.

“Oh, don’t underestimate me, Doc. Just cause you ain’t seen these moves don’t mean I ain’t got them.”

“Maybe I’ve been blessed. If it’s the same way you hold a camera, I can’t imagine your feet.”

“Uh huh,” he egged you on. “Keep it comin’. I have a whole night to prove you wrong.”

You scrunched your nose at him. At the moment, a series of rapid clicks sounded behind you. You and Boone peaked behind you at Ben, the reporter, snapping a photo.

“Sorry,” he apologized bashfully. “I haven’t been able to capture much of you.” He spoke to you, not Boone. “I want to feature more than just the storms.”

“Well you’re gonna get a whole lot more than storms tonight, Ben!” Boone cheered as Dani joined him on his other side.

You got the sudden sense of deja vu to your college days. Those undergraduate nights where your friends would drag you to the bar and everything was far too loud and over exciting. It was beer and booze and feet that fumbled. There was nothing over exhilarating about going out on a weekday but now, past those prime days, you felt a simmer of that feeling come alive inside of you.

Against your better judgment, the idea that Scott and you were crossing paths in a public setting beyond your professions was exciting. It sent thrills down you when it shouldn’t.

He had done nothing to remedy what he said—nor you for that matter. You kept your distance by sitting in the truck while stopping or sleeping in the RV with Dexter and Boone instead of a motel. Every time in the last week that your lines had met, you kept them parallel.

Tonight would be the hardest to not intersect.

“Can I buy you all a round?” Ben offered kindly. His mannerisms were foreign in the West. “For an exciting week, I suppose.”

“Who are we to say no, Ben?” Tyler slung an arm around his shoulder. Dexter and Lily flanked him at his sides.

Your group settled at a table in the back of the bar by the darts and pool table. Dexter challenged Dani to a rematch of a game they had settled a couple of weeks ago, and the rest of you nursed or chugged the beer that Ben had bought. You were the former. Sticking your attention on the foam at the top as it slowly made its way down the glass to become nonexistent.

“So,” Boone cleared his throat beside you as Dani, Tyler, and Ben looked over the photos the journalist had taken thus far.

“Is there a reason your attitude has been shit lately?”

You peered into the glass. Fingers tapping the sides of it.

“I was editing the last video and if anyone wanted a tornado to actually kill them, viewers might be convinced it’d be you.”

“Oh come on,” you scoffed. “I am sure my bad day didn’t ruin the video.”

“I didn’t say ruin, only tainted it. But what’s goin’ on?” He pointed and probed at your temple invasively. “The wheels are turning. I can hear them.”

“It’s nothin’, Boone. Just… girl stuff.”

“My favorite!” He bellowed like a King. Dani transitioned from her conversation to yours.

“What’s your favorite?”

“Girl stuff,” he mimicked. “Just askin’ about little miss sad is all.”

Dani nodded, taking a sip of her beer.

“Is it about your tinder date?”

“My what?” You showed deep confusion. “What date?”

“Last week,” she said casually. “I could hear your headboard against my wall. Jesus,” Dani laughed. “I didn’t know you had it in you Doc.”

Ben and Tyler’s conversation ended and they eavesdropped from the end of the table. At the other end of the bar, Storm Par, in casual clothing, entered.

You blanched at her words. You didn’t even realize.

“Oh-ho!” She pounded a fist on the table. “It was a tinder guy! Ha!”

Boone went suspiciously quiet beside you as she kept on.

“I didn’t want to say anything then but it makes sense. You’ve been on edge ever since. Maybe you should call him—“

“No,” you shook your head at her. Your hands left the glass and settled in your lap.

“He wasn’t good? Oh—“

“No!” You defended too fast and awkwardly. Boone glanced at Tyler who became far too interested in his co-pilot’s silence.

Dani lowered her voice with concern. “Was it too, you know, rough? Did he hurt you?”

“Oh my God!” You exclaimed at the invasion of privacy. “Can you not?”

“Sorry!” She held up her hands. “I didn’t hear anything else if that’s what you’re worried about. I don’t want to know your kinks.”

“Oh fuck me,” you wailed. “Dani, can you please stop?”

“Ok, ok!” She backed off and sat in her seat. “I’m just trying to help!”

“I know,” you breathed in. Tyler took a large sip of his beer before putting it back on down the table.

“We know him?” He questioned, eying Boone move uncomfortably in his seat. You looked at him and gaped for a millisecond before shaking your head.

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

Boone glanced at Tyler again and he knew you lied. He didn’t think it was Boone—that would be a nonstarter because you weren’t his type. It wasn’t Dexter because he was married and Ben was not interested in women.

He knew you didn’t swing for Dani or Lily so it was someone else. Dani already deduced it was a man so any other woman was out of the question.

“Well maybe you just need to find someone else to take your mind off of it?” Dani suggested.

“Yeah. Maybe.” You bit at the inside of your cheek.

“A lot of fuss over a one night stand,” Tyler put an arm over the back on Ben’s seat. “Must’ve been somethin’ if you’re down and out about it.”

You downed the beer before you in a flash.

“Must’ve,” Dani agreed with a hum.

“Anyone want another?” You asked, shifting out of your seat. The heels of your boots clacked onto the floor with a bounce.

Everyone shook their heads no and let you leave the table.

The music was pumping through the speakers loudly and the bar was full. You spotted Kate with a couple of the Storm Par guys doing a shot—all of them looking like regular Joe’s in their tees and flannels. Not far from the edge of the bar Scott and Javi waited for pitchers to be filled.

It was rare you saw him out of his “uniform.” Clad in a dark blue tee and his own flannel, the only thing that separated him from the rest was the way he looked. When he tried, Scott was movie-star handsome. The kind of person that’d be having girls write their numbers on his hand at the end of the night.

His presence was unfair to the other men around—except for Tyler on the occasion. It was a shame he was an asshole.

Instead of going toward Scott and Javi as you might have a week ago, you took an empty spot beside Kate who cheerfully greeted you. She waved down the bartender, asking for another shot and to refill your glass.

Tyler watched you walk away. He couldn’t see the decision making in your eyes or hear the thoughts in your mind, yet he had his own to make assumptions.

“Boone,” he called to his friend who sat quietly. Tyler watched you stand next to Kate and Ben’s gaze followed.

“Yeah?”

“Why you bein’ so quiet?”

“I’m n-not,” he tripped over his words. “I’m not.”

“You sure we don’t know him?”

Tyler clocked each of the Storm Par men. None of them looked immediately taken by you standing there, itching to get their hands on you but then he let himself wander to the end of the bar.

And he locked in.

“I don’t know him,” Boone choked a laugh. “How would I know? She’d tell Dani before me.”

“I didn’t say she told you.”

“Well I’m just implying.”

Tyler turned to Ben who was trying to copy Tyler’s movements.

“Ben,” Tyler tipped his head toward you. “Tell me what you see.”

Ben cleared his throat like he was being interrogated. “Well they just got a second round of shots and the bartender said it’s on the house. She must recognize us.”

“Ok,” Tyler pointed. “And down there? What can we conclude, Mr. London.”

“Oh, well… it seems not everyone is out for a good time.” It was Scott’s frown that told him that.

“You sure?” Tyler watched as Dani blanked. Her eyes suddenly went wide and worrisome at the thought.

“No!” She objected. “No fucking way. Not on my watch, Tyler. Nope!”

“What?” Ben asked frantically. “What’s wrong?”

“Tyler thinks it’s one of them,” Dani pointed to Javi and Scott.

“It is one of them,” as though there were options. “It’s the fucking stick in the mud.”

Dani scowled and physically rejected the idea. Ben watched what Tyler did as Scott, the taller of the two men and the one facing your direction at the bar, couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you laughed at whatever Kate said.

You started to leave and he averted his gaze until your back was to him. You didn’t even look at him when you passed him and Javi.

“Shit,” Dani muttered as you got closer. Boone closed his eyes with a sigh before nodding at the rest of the table.

“It is him,” he admitted and Dani slapped a hand on her face. “I saw him.”

“You saw them?”

“No, him. Leaving her motel room last week.”

“Oh Lord,” Dani nearly wailed. “She’s been sad over him?”

“He is quite attractive,” Ben defended. Dani slapped his arm harshly.

“Dammit don’t say that!”

Tyler sat in contemplation. He had been your friend for years now and knew when things got rough, it could be difficult to overcome them. Everyone had gone through countless breakups and one night stands and situationships that didn’t work out and after a bit, you’d be ok.

Yet he knew it was different somehow.

Even though he despised Storm Par and had nothing but horrible interactions with Scott, there must have been something there for you to cling on to.

And anger had a distant cousin: jealousy.

When you came back to the table, everyone was quiet and observing.

“What?” You questioned each of them.

“Nothin’” Dani said quickly.

“Oh really?”

“Do you wanna dance?” Tyler asked you abruptly. You could see on his face that there was another thought lingering below the surface but didn’t prove.

“Right now?”

“Yeah,” he hopped off his stool and motioned toward the group of people dancing to the rhythms of the music. Most were couples, a few spattering of friend groups around.

Tyler held out his hand to you.

“Don’t tell me a PhD can’t dance, Doc.”

You rolled your eyes, taking his hand in yours. It wasn’t Scott’s, but it would do for now.

“Of course I can, hillbilly. I just do it a bit more sophisticated than you.”

Dani and Boone howled in laughter as you let Tyler take you to the dance floor, spinning you around twice before settling to the score. You danced sweetly with one another as the others looked on from their seats.

Tyler Owens always looked proud to be in the company of his friends. Each plucked from their own little obscure corner of the world: a YouTube daredevil, an amateur late-age scientist, an ex-pr firm reject, a tech fair winner, and you—the science bros internet girlfriend who was a professor of physics.

He adored each of you in a special way that made everyday worth living.

It hurt him that you couldn’t be honest about an action so natural. If Scott had been a one time thing or a many time thing, he would learn to accept it if it meant you would be happy.

He’d want the same in return should a situation arise.

“You know,” he cleared his throat as the song sped up in tempo but came back down. “We don’t really keep secrets from each other here.”

You sighed, looking away from Tyler. Everyone was at peace on the door before the real dancing began and you tried not to peak at the table as Storm Par settled at the table beside your friends.

“I’m not keeping secrets. I’m not revealing information.”

“Ah!” Tyler chuckled. “Ok, fine… but if I said that even if you didn’t tell us and kept whatever you have with whoever it is going, that we would all be ok with it, that wouldn’t matter?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said frankly. “I think—“

“That he’s staring at us right now.”

Tyler met your eyes with purity. There was no cruelty or hatred in them for you to think he was being a jerk about it.

You opened your mouth to speak but he denied you the chance.

“There’s a lot of things I could say about it, Doc. A lot. You could’ve picked a nicer dude, not a leech to our operations, someone who cares about people…” he trailed off when he saw your demeanor fall far from his jokes.

“Boone saw him,” he clarified. “He put the pieces together but didn’t want to say anything. Not his place, I guess.”

“No,” you said in soft resignation.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“How long?”

“Not long after we met them,” you confessed. About a year ago. Tyler whistled, his hand inched a bit lower on your back but it was still respectful, you didn’t mind.

“And something he did, said, isn’t sitting right?”

“No.”

“Do you want my advice?”

You stayed silent as he continued on. He let the music play out as you swayed. Javi and Kate joined on the floor and their giggles were noticeable from the short distance between you.

“Guys like him… they’re complicated. And I get it if you don’t want to hear it but I’ve been around guys like him my whole life. They can be selfish and unnerving and stupid. It’s like they’re trying to prove to the world that they’re fit to be in it.”

You couldn’t disagree.

“When they find a place that accepts them, they’ll rise to the top of it and not know what it’s like to be at the bottom anymore. They forget about people like us.”

“I think I changed my mind—“ you started to pull away but he tugged you back.

“I’m not telling you to let him go. He just hasn’t been put in a place of uncertainty in a long, long time.”

“He said I was entitled.”

“He’s a prick and I will beat his ass if you want me to.”

You smiled. “No. It’s ok.”

“I will do it, don’t underestimate me,” he smirked. “And by the way he watches you, that uncertainty is you.”

“What do you mean by it?”

“I think you might scare him a little, Doc.”

You did.

Scott’s heart rate rose significantly from the time he entered the bar, saw you, and had to watch you dance with Tyler. Those same words that replayed in your mind the last week surfaced as soon as he sat in the truck and the door was shut.

He was an ass. It was a part of him that he couldn’t escape from no matter how he tried. His memories delicately held onto the hours you shared where he felt he could be someone else.

Tyler kept glancing in the direction in which Scott sat as though to rub salt in the wound.

“Can we try not to frown today?” Kate saddled up in the seat beside him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile.”

“Normal people don’t walk around grinning.”

“No,” she kicked her feet. “But they do allow themselves to have fun.”

“I am.”

She blew raspberries as Javi poured the beer into their glasses. “You are a tough nut.”

“Never not one,” Javi agreed. “Just loosen up, man. The world is bigger than what we do.”

Scott breathed in a frustrated sigh. “I’m fine,” he pressed.

“Not since I’ve met you,” Kate suggested. She looked out into the sea of people. “Maybe we can just all take it easy tonight. Drink some beer, dance, and then find you someone to take home.”

Scott’s voice was muffled by the beer he drank but he shook off her suggestion. He didn’t even really know this girl who appeared to be a phenom of weather patterns. All she had done this week was disrupt their workings and fall on his irritation scale.

“I like the sound of that!” Javi encouraged. “When’s the last time you been laid, huh? 2015?”

Scott didn’t entertain it. He looked out onto the dance floor and saw you swaying with Tyler—a mix of concern and thankfulness levied on your face.

“Ok, ok�� blink once if before or twice if after,” Javi continued at Kate’s amusement. “I’m serious, man. We’re gonna hook you up, alright? Kate’s got a six sense for pickin’ the right ones.”

Javi took his turn but the song changed to a favorite of Kate’s and his eyes lit up at the same time hers did. Call it a sign from the heavens, but Scott had been saved from the humiliation of his friend.

Kate dragged Javi to the floor not far from you and Tyler and it gave him protection to keep looking.

Tyler spun you close to Javi and Kate.

“We all have to face our fears,” Tyler told you. “If we don’t, they’re gonna prevent us from what we need in our lives.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that a book deal might be in your future? Words of Wisdom by everyone’s favorite tornado wrangler.” You emphasized with the sparkle of your fingers.

“That ain’t a half bad idea.”

“I’m full of great ideas.”

“Then start thinkin’ of one to remedy this. I love ya, I do. But if you let his shell break you, it will be a hell of a lot harder to handle the road.”

“Thank you, Tyler,” you said earnestly. “I wasn’t sure what any of you would say about it.”

“Well,” he racked his brain for the thought. “You remember that girl Dani was seein’ from Kansas? She might not have been the most perfect but she was perfect for Dani when she needed her. And maybe that’s Scott for you.”

The sound ended abruptly and the speakers let out a deafening tone. A bartender came onto the surround sound to kick off the line dancing that only Tyler could hype up more. Kate and Javi found themselves beside you both and everyone that could fit on the wooden floor ascended.

Tyler clapped his hands together as he stationed himself near the first line. You weren’t too confident in yourself even if you had been doing this since you could walk, so you settled in the spot behind him. Kate was jovial to stand next to Tyler. Her eyes twinkled and you thought back on his words.

Perfect for what was needed.

“OoO, my man!” Javi clapped Scott’s back in surprise as he joined on the floor.

Dani, Boone, and Lily ran to stand next to you, so Javi and Scott took the positions behind you. Dexter cheered everyone on from the table with Ben. The latter took his camera out with his finger on the shutter.

“Don’t step on our shoes now, you hear me?” Lily screeched over her shoulder to Javi and Scott. Feeling emboldened by the two glasses of beer he downed in a record time, Scott ran a hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry about it!” He shouted back.

“Ok Mr. MIT, come to show us how it’s done!” Lily drawled. She tugged on your arm—having missed the conversation prior. Dani’s smile dropped off her face fast.

“I say we place a bet!” She yelled over the music that was getting so loud. Your ears rung as the lights began to spin in different colors. Javi heard the bet and drew closer to Lily.

She pulled your arm with her, sticking you beside Scott. He put his hands on his hips and his elbow knocked your other arm.

“Twenty that he’ll fall on his face,” she suggested.

Javi looked at Scott and contemplated the idea. Scott was distracted by you standing there. He just stared, like a fish out of water in a town not far from one he visited as a kid.

You made him feel like a fish out of water.

“Deal!” You heard Javi agree and before Lily could shake his hand in a deal, you piped up.

“I bet with Javi!” She peeped at you surprised. “Forty says he can!”

Scott never had someone put trust in him like that. It was a damn good thing his mother taught him more than just math and science.

“Ok!” She yelled back, shaking both Javi and your hand.

Before you turned to take your spot as the music started, you took Scott in.

“Don’t disappoint me!” You shouted.

After the last few days, he couldn’t will himself to.

He shook his head, letting a smile grow to his eyes. Dani had never seen it before.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby!”

And Scott danced his fucking ass off.

You weren’t sure where it ended or began, but you could feel it coming in your bones.

Not the sounds of laughter in a confined space or the blaring of music—the rapid, unpredictable nature of dedication a person could not admit. It was a funnel cloud below the truck; a spiraling tire on the side of the road blasting its radius toward you.

The cool air at night hit your body like a bucket of water. The squealing of the door to the bar rattled at the force you used to push but it didn’t slam closed as you expected.

Two minutes ago, you were breathing heavily on the dance floor. The stomping rhythm of boots on wood turning your mind blank with every kick and turn. You had found the peace within the steps and let it drive you to a foundation.

Scott had gladly proved them all wrong—enjoying the surprised excitement that emitted from both his and your own team at the way he was able to, standing above six feet, move the way he did. He caught your smile more than once, a resurgence of hope filled him.

At the break of the song, you hung onto Lily’s arm, pointing to the door.

“I need some air,” you nearly heaved.

So you went for the door and he debated on whether to follow but in the business you took up, there was always the possibility of never having another moment.

And if he didn’t strike his fear now, he’d never do it.

“Hey,” he called out to you as the music started up again but you were too far gone. Already halfway to the door by the time he had made a decision. He tried calling out to you again, except his track was cut off by a sweaty Boone.

“Ex-“

“Don’t fucking hurt her,” Boone panted. His eyes pleaded for his friend, for you. “Don’t do it. Please.”

“I’m not—“

“You say you’re not but I’m sure you’ve said it before. But think about it, dude…” Boone got up in Scott’s personal space. “If a tornado hit this building right now and you were the only one left, would you be ok with how this ends?”

Scott saw the earnest plea in Boone’s call. He placed a hard, firm hand on Boone’s shoulder.

“I appreciate it, man.”

It was the first time Scott was decent to him.

Scott left him standing there near the entrance as he caught the door before it slammed closed. Outside, you stood in a cool down position in the orange-yellow glow of the parking lot.

His heart was beating out of his chest. It hadn’t felt that way in a week.

He wasn’t sure if you knew he had followed you. You didn’t turn around and didn’t acknowledge him as the silence overtook. Crickets strung their chords and cars whirled by on the road.

Scott leaned against the brick building under the neon lights with a knee bent.

“Do I scare you?”

You broke the silence after minutes had passed. You kept your back to him but he looked up, folding his arms across his broad chest.

If you turned around, you feared you wouldn’t be able to keep it together.

“Don’t lie to me,” you tried not to sound like a beggar. “Do I scare you?”

“Yeah,” he stated frankly. “Yeah you do.”

“Why?”

You could hear him breathe out. You imagined him looking around for an answer.

“There’s a million reasons why.”

“You can’t name one?” You took the chance to glance at him. His face was half illuminated by a moody blue glow of the neon sign.

“I can name plenty,” he reassured. “I just don’t know what’s too personal to say.”

“There’s no such thing.”

“Fine,” his fingers tapped on his bicep. “You scare me because this game we play doesn’t always feel like a game to me.”

The sex. The getting together in the middle of the night to whisper sweet nothings and cherish a deep connection to feel like it’s nothing the next day.

“You scare me because you’re smart and know what you’re doing when we’re just getting our heads straight.”

Your head tilted to the side at his honesty.

“You scare me because I feel something that maybe I shouldn’t. Because by some stupid chance I can’t have you, someone else will and I can’t imagine seeing them with you.”

Your chest tightened.

“I’m selfish to think that way,” he nodded. “You’re right about that.”

“I was talking about your work,” you confessed. “I think what you do is selfish.”

He didn’t say anything to that because he knew it was also true. Everything he sold to people was a fat lie to make money for a man who already had enough.

“You care about people too much,” he repeated. “And I don’t have enough people to put the care that I have into them.”

“You’re an asshole,” you told him and he nodded again.

“I’d have to agree.”

“You made me feel like shit.”

“I can’t take it back.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “For what I said and didn’t do. I was an asshole and you didn’t deserve it.”

His moody blues were turning the sky sad. A raindrop hit the ground between you.

“I don’t think I deserve your forgiveness,” he continued. “I’ve never been nice to your friends, or you, when we’re on the road. I dislike the way Tyler danced with you—made me want to knock his fucking teeth out but I figured you’d hate me more if I did.”

“He did that on purpose, you know.”

He shook his head, looking off into the grassland beyond the bar. You felt like you were being laid onto an altar for a choice. One that seemed easy but was hard, and one that was hard but the devil claimed it was easy.

“Figures,” he mumbled. “But I deserved it.”

“We’d have to agree there too.”

He looked up at you again. Arms still crossed, he undid them and extended a hand to you as an offering. Scott was not shocked by the hesitation in your steps.

“I think you have a lot of work to do, Scott.”

“I do.”

“And I don’t want to think this is all grandstanding to get into my bed.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m not one to give second chances,” you told him and he dropped his hand in his lap. “But I don’t think what we were doing constitutes as a first chance either.”

You walked toward him at your own volition. The gravel harsh under your heels, you settled with your toes at his. And you fiddled with the edges of the opening to his flannel no different than the collar in the diner.

“This is the only chance I’ll give you.”

Another raindrop fell.

“I don’t intend on wasting it.” Scott’s eyes flicked between your lips and eyes.

In the laws of physics, there is one to triumph above the rest.

The gravitational law states that if a particle exists, it will attract others to them unwillingly—it is simply the natural state of existence.

The pull is magnetic; impossible to pass by the will of your mind, body, or soul. It tugged at the heartstrings roughly. A bridge that connected people from everywhere to be in one singular place at the right time.

Scott’s gravitational pull was too powerful to withstand. It pulled every bit of you into him without remorse—it was blue, red, and the colors of the world within to bloom into spectacles you’d only see when your eyes were closed.

Scott’s hands found purchase on your waist, drawing you into his pull. One of your hands remained on his chest. His erratic heart beat no differently than your own and the other hand grasped his forearm.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in the night. “I’m sorry.”

You rested your forehead on his. “I know.”

The strength of his pull was strong. Yet it was not strong enough for you to pull your head back.

“Don’t prove I’m right,” you wanted him. He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Can I be selfish one more time?” He inquired with a gleam in his eyes. Scott ran his tongue over his lips expectantly.

“Oh,” you feigned innocence. “Well, I don’t know if that would—“

He cut you off as he brought his lips to yours, kissing you sweetly. His lips were warm and smelt of a faint cheap beer. Another raindrop fell and this time it hit your face. You ignored it.

You gripped onto his shirt with a fist as he deepened the kiss. Taking one of his hands from you, he cupped the side of your neck to position you as he pleased.

It started to rain in Enid.

In the rain, the laws of physics didn’t defy themselves. The rain soaked into your clothes and into his dark locks to drip onto his face more so than yours. The blue of the neon sign growing hot instead of cold.

You broke away from him, tracing the lines of his face.

“Don’t prove I’m right,” you repeated.

And he didn’t.

A/N: thanks for reading! As always comments, reblog, and likes are always appreciated. I love hearing from all of you and your reactions motivate us greatly!

#Scott x reader #Scott miller x reader #Scott twisters #scott (twisters)#twisters #twisters 2024 #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #david corenswet #Scott x fem!reader #twisters has overtaken my life #also this is a honker of a fic and I do not apologize

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hmusunoo · 1 month

Text

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒! - hyung line

▏synopsis. enhypen hyung line as different types of angst tropes

▏warnings. angst, most of these are really sad.

▏wc. 2k

✩ heeseung - memory loss

You woke up in a blur. The lights to this very lit up room were blinding, coupled with the white walls and thin sheets you laid upon. Your mind was in a haze, your eyes taking long to adjust to its surroundings as your head pounded so hard you could feel the ache behind your eyes. Groggily you brought your hand up, pawing at your eyes to alleviate the bleariness from them.

Your confusion was laden on your face as you took in your surrounds. You were definitely in a hospital that was for certain. If it weren’t for the stark white of the room and the crisp smell of cleaning supplies you weren’t sure if your mind would have even registered it. It seemed that normal day to day things were splotchy to recall, names of objects and colors were hard to come by.

Your body had ached. Feeling as if you were hit by an a thousand pound truck at record speed and in the confusion to find your bearings you hadn’t noticed the hunched figure that sat directly next to your hospital bed, fast asleep. Chest rising and falling at a rhythm.

more under the cut!

A boy sat next to your bed, holding tightly to your hand as if it were his lifeline. You wiggled your hand out of the boys grip. The movement had caused the boy to stir, opening his eyes to peer at you. The boys eyes widened as he looked you.

"Y/n!" He said, hoping up from his place on the bed. "You're awake." His smile had brought a small sense of warmth to your chest, one you couldn't explain and were extremely confused by.

You tilt your head in confusion at the boy but said nothing, struggling to find the right words to say, to break his happy spirit when you tell this boy that you had no idea who he was. None at all.

Finally deciding to break the ice you asked "Who are you?" The bright smile that once adorn this beautiful boys fell, a look of confusion now replaced the happy expression. "What?" He asked his tone broken sounding.

"It's Heeseung? Your'e boyfriend.." You tried your hardest to force the memories of him back but it just wasn't working. You had no idea who he was and somehow deep down inside of you seeing him sad and heartbroken hurt you.

Your mind might not have any idea to who he was but your heart definitely had.

✩ Jake - bet

You were running. You weren't entirely sure where you were going but all you did know was that you had to get out of here.

You were trying to catch your breath but the bubbling of a sob was to hard to swallow, catching in your throat. The sound of footsteps behind you reminding you to keep your pace and not allow Jake to catch up to you. You feared that your resolve might break if you were face to face with him after what was just revealed to you.

"Y/n!" Jake shouted after you panting. His voice breathy from running. You started slowing down getting tired. The single lapse win pace was Jake's biggest advantage in catching up to you. "Listen to me please, baby"

Jake sounded desperate his voice breaking slightly at the end of his sentence. "Please" he pleaded again. You stood still your back to him hugging your arms around yourself, the only form of protection you could provide yourself.

"You lied to me" You whispered not able to conjure up anger only sadness. "I was a bet, a fucking bet" The tears from your eyes like a waterfall. You didn't turn to him, you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. You wanted to appear stronger than that even though you knew you weren't.

"I can explain, ok." Jake said sucking in a breath "I'm sorry I hurt you-"

"You broke me!" You whipped around to look at him finally. The anger finally simmering in you, reaching its boiling point and exploding all over the two of you.

"I gave everything to you! Just to find out I was a fucking bet. The punch line of your sick fucking joke. I don't want any part of it anymore. Leave me alone." You spit the words at him trying to hurt him like he had hurt you. You think you succeeded when you watched his face drop. A look of despair over taking him. He was one hell of an actor you'd give him that.

"Just- let me explain before you berate me-"

"You deserve it" You said cutting him off again "You deserve to hurt like I hurt Jake."

"You were a bet." He said, you scoffed shaking your head at him "I know that already."

"But I fell in love with you, that was real. And I know that doesn't change how this happened but I mean it ok? I love you. " The tears felt like they were forming again.

Your heart breaking even more, you knew within yourself that you would not be able to forgive him. if now or if ever you weren't sure, you just knew that it hurt walking away from him.

✩ jay - saying hurtful things in anger during an argument

"You're not listening to me!" You shouted in frustration grabbing your head in annoyance. "You never have time for me anymore Jay. I miss you"

"I hear you loud and clear Y/n, and im telling you I can't help that I have a job and responsibilities." Jay sat on the couch head in his hands as you stood over him trying to get him to just hear you out god damnit.

"That's not what I mean and you know it Jay." You said defeated. "I just want you to make time for me. I miss my boyfriend, I miss who we used to be."

"I can't always be the same person y/n" Jay snapped, standing from his place on the couch. "Some of us are trying to do things in their life, some of us want to be successful and not be stuck at home listening to their nagging girlfriend all day." The words struck you.

You said nothing in surprise at his sudden outburst. The silence more than likely clearing Jay's mind. The realization of what he said hanging in the air over the two of you.

"So I'm just some loser girlfriend who waits at home all day for her more successful boyfriend to make a living for her. got it." You said curtly nodding at Jay.

"Y/n I didn't me-"

"You didn't mean it? Then why did you say it Jay. Stop kidding yourself that's the most real thing you've said to me in awhile." Your words stung him. The severity of the situation dawning on him.

"I didn't mean to say it like that Y/n." Jay said, reaching out to grab your waist. You turned away from him softly muttering "I need a break."

"You need a break?" He asked, his tone rushed. "Are you breaking up with me? Over something like this?"

His question had made you angry. Did he think what he said was nothing? That it weighed no significance. "I don't know" You responded honestly. "what I do know is that I need to be away from you. I'll be at Y/f/n's house don't call me." With that being said you walked out the door grabbing only the essentials not knowing if you'd ever be back.

✩ sunghoon - reader catches him talking badly about her

You were excited to finally see Sunghoon after he had been busy with comeback schedules and preparing for tour. He had been spending a lot of time in the dorms and not coming to see you as often as he used to. It was exhausting being away from him.

You often called him only to be sent to voicemail or to get a quick 'love u talk to you later' text. Something that rarely ever happened, you didn't end up talking later.

You would sometimes go days without talking to Sunghoon, you missed him dearly. So tonight you decided to surprise him. You were going to wait for him at the dorm. He would be home soon and finally you'd be able to spend some time together even if its for the night. You sat in Sunghoon's room scrolling on instagram waiting for the text from Jungwon that they were home. Finally your phone dinged with the notification that they were home.

You knew that it had been a long day for them so you decided to send a quick text to Sunghoon before he came up wanting him to be even more excited to see you when you surprised him.

You texted him ; have a goodnight babe! love you and miss you!!

it was simple and sweet and you just hoped that he loved in. Gathering the snacks you had gotten for the two of you, you felt giddy and jumpy at the thought of seeing Sunghoon after so long. Finally the door to dorms opened and you heard bustling of the boys coming in.

"I'm exhausted" You heard Jake groan out and then the sound of a thud that was most likely his bag. "Sunghoon why don't you go see Y/n tonight since we have the day off tomorrow." You heard Heeseung say. Sunghoon let out a groan. "She just texted me and honestly I'm not even going to answer I don't feel like dealing with her tonight."

Your ears perked up at that. A dreadful feeling sat at the pit of your stomach. "Hyung..." Jungwon spoke softly "maybe she just misses you?'

"She's over baring with it. She's like my mom with how much she texts and calls me. You think she would get the hint when I don't answer for days, I deal with millions of fangirls a day I don't need to deal with one when I get home too." Taken aback by his words you step back, hugging the wall.

You hadn't realized you were crying until you felt the wetness on your cheeks.

Sunghoon must have started to make his way towards the room because all you could hear was Jungwon's protest. It was too late though, the door swung open and you were met face to face with Sunghoon.

As soon as his eyes set on your his face turned as white as sheet. Realizing that you must have heard his harsh words based on the tears falling from your eyes.

"baby.." Sunghoon spoke shock written all over his painstakingly beautiful face.

"Is that how you really feel?" You asked him, the hears still falling from your eyes. "Like I'm some crazy fangirl"

Jungwon, Jake and Heeseung stood awkwardly behind Sunghoon watching the scene unfold before their eyes.

"Since i'm such a bother to you, I'll do you a favor by leaving and never coming back." You were stern. Turning to grab the things you had brought with you save for the snacks. He could have those.

"No, Y/n I didn't mean it like that I'm just stressed with work." He tried to reason with you. Trying to stop you from walking out go the dorm.

"I was only trying to help you Sunghoon. Not suffocate you." You were still crying. Humiliated as his members watched you break down.

"I know that baby- "

"don't call me that" You cut him off "I'm not your baby anymore."

"Y/n no" He said shaking his head. "Let's talk about this first." You shook your head a sigh falling from your lips.

"There's nothing to talk about I heard what you said, I got the message." With all your belongings in your hands you walked out the door leaving an embarrassed and heart broken sunghoon behind.

taglist - @shypen , @belovedhoon , @st1llm0nster , @blossommi , @jooniesbears-blog , @kkamismom12

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fangswbenefits · 7 months

Text

Comfortable

Summary: Astarion walks in on you in a rather compromising situation. Naturally, he offers to help, but then you ask him to promise you something that he was not expecting…

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Fluff. Aftercare. Oral sex. Pillow humping. Innuendo. Mentions of masturbation.

Word count: 3.3k

It's a wavering sequence of whimpers that catches Astarion's attention just as he arrives at camp after a late night hunt.

The blood on non thinking creatures seldom presents itself as a decent meal, but he finds it unfair to depend exclusively on you.

The boars in the outskirts of Baldur's Gate are delectable enough to blind his hunger for a few hours – maybe a full day, if need be.

The camp seems peaceful and quiet with everyone still catching some rest after in their respective tents, and as the pale moon glows up high in the dark blue sky, he notices the dawn isn't breaking for at least a few more hours.

Maybe he can indulge in a trance to ease his mind and body after feeding, even though it's not a dire necessity.

But it seems that the night has other plans reserved for him.

His steps are light and sure, following the crescendo of sounds that seems to come from near his tent.

He would recognise that voice anywhere.

You.

As he draws near, trying to make out the origin of said whimpers, he vaguely wonders if you're having a dream.

That is the most reasonable explanation.

But then he hears what resembles a muffled groan.

A nightmare?

Instinctively, an eyebrow quirks as he approaches your tent.

And then he freezes.

Even through the obvious failed attempt at reining yourself in, he knows exactly what he heard.

His name. Muffled and barely intelligible, but his name, nonetheless.

An amused smile tugs at his lips as it dawns on him that you are indeed pleasuring yourself. Risky and unexpected, but beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Cheeky…

He could simply entertain this, and leave it to you to reach your peak on your own.

Unfortunately for him, he has just fed.

And unfortunately for you, he has every intention of interrupting your solo endeavour.

His usual cool body now flooded with the warmth and vigour that make it extremely easy not to succumb to your sweet and melodic whimpers.

As such, he tugs at the strings that hold both flaps together, successfully drawing a surprised gasp from you.

“You scared me!”

He finds you propped up on one elbow before rushing to sit and pulling a blanket to cover yourself, a mortified look splattered across your face.

The sight in front of him is enough for the recently drunk blood to rush downwards at record speed.

Predictable, but such is the nature of his body when it comes to you.

Flustered and quickened breaths. His senses are so sharp from the recent blood intake, that he can hear your heartbeat drumming fast in your chest.

By now, he knows you well enough.

So well, that he's sure he has just interrupted your climax.

The confirmation comes in the form of a low growl of frustration.

He almost feels sorry for you, but what crosses his mind is the offer of a moment of pleasure so great only he can provide.

“You were close.”

It isn't a question and he doesn't expect an answer.

But you're so visibly irritated that you scowl deeply. “Yes! Yes, I was. Thank you so much for interrupting.”

“My pleasure,” he retorts, knowing fully well he's about to set off a bomb if he doesn't choose his words carefully.

You have a temper he adores to test. He's used to dancing to your tune and knows exactly which strings to pull to get you riled up in ways that often lead to very enjoyable outcomes.

His cock welcomes your huff of annoyance with a faint twitch.

“Why didn’t you just… wait…” you almost cry out in sheer frustration.

He lets out a taunting laugh. “What, and miss out on all of the fun, darling?”

A dramatic pout settles your lips and it takes all of his self-control not to wipe it off your face with a kiss in an instant.

“How many did you take this time?”

It is a glaring taunt.

And your mouth drops open.

Maybe he should have eased his way in, considering the current predicament.

But the way your body is all flustered and heated from your own touch is enough to flare desire inside him. And whenever desire begins to swell inside him, the fine line between reason and pleasure begins to blur.

Mostly because he knows he was the one on your mind when you had your fingers deep inside you.

Your eyes widen slowly, and you clutch the blanket closer to your lower half, still hiding the proof of your arousal from his prying eyes.

You don't reply at first, your pride keeping you silent.

But Astarion doesn't mind. In fact, he enjoys your resistance at first. Makes it all the more enjoyable when you finally give in.

“How many, darling?”

You frown, averting your eyes.

So stubborn…

His cock adores it.

“How many?” his tone is firmer this time and you slowly meet his eyes again.

“... two.”

He clicks his tongue, crouching before you. “Oh, darling…”

Two fingers are not nearly enough to provide the fullness and stretch that only his cock can. But he appreciates your effort nonetheless.

It's quite adorable and enough to have his cock hardening even more.

Your fingers still glisten in the faint candlelight and he feels the sudden urge to have them in his mouth. He never tires of tasting you in more ways than one.

“You do not need to hide from me,” he says tenderly, but still not moving an inch. He wants you to feel comfortable enough under his gaze. “You've bared yourself to me many times, love.”

Still, you don't let go of the fabric, a slash of defiance crossing your face. “You took too long.”

Ah. “Did you miss me?”

You bite your lip, face softening as you nod twice.

And you were so desperate for him that you just couldn't wait?

Gods.

His cock stirs even more against his trousers at the silent realisation.

“And I am here now,” he says, dropping to his knees, as a wicked smile turns his lips. “So, allow me.”

He reaches out with his hand to tug at the fabric, silently looking for your permission.

A shaky sigh parts your lips and he spots a shiver as he pulls the blanket that keeps you from him.

His eyes drop to the sweet spot between your legs and he almost regrets having interrupted you.

Almost.

Your clit is so swollen it deliciously peeks from between your folds, parting them gently. It throbs faintly as he catches your clenching a few times, wetness dripping out.

After a moment, he manages to tear his gaze away, ignoring the twitches of protest from his cock.

He finds your half-hooded eyes. “May I?”

You hesitate at first, nearly pressing your thighs together, but he stops you with both hands on your knees, a reassuring grip that has you slowly but surely loosen up under his touch.

“You don't have to…”

No, he doesn't.

But he wants to.

In fact, he thinks he needs to.

He rubs circles along your flushed skin, wanting your full attention on him before he speaks, “I appreciate the concern, darling, but I'm impossibly hard and you look incredibly delectable.”

It's more than enough to have you yearning for more, as a surprise gasp parts your lips.

You finally nod, spreading your legs and leaning back as you settle on your elbows.

He offers a sly grin, lowering and positioning himself right where he craves to be.

But not before he eases some of the growing tension on his lower half. The blood coursing through his body is more of an inconvenience for now, and he's sure, under different circumstances, he'd have better control over this.

Or maybe not.

Maybe you're just that good for him.

You jerk slightly when his mouth draws near your slick folds.

“Wait.”

And he does, his concentration slightly shaken as he promptly scans your face for any cause for alarm.

“Just… don't leave afterwards.”

Don't leave–

Astarion's lips are so close to your clit, he has to pull back slightly so he can have a proper look at you, his hardened cock still straining against his undergarments.

“What do you mean?” he asks, perplexed.

There is hesitance in your eyes. “You tend to leave after… like you don't want to be here with me.”

That sounds like a whiplash to him, because it is not true at all.

Your words take him by surprise and he immediately worries he may have said or done something that could be interpreted as mixed signals.

“Darling, I–”

But you immediately shake your head. “If you can stay after… I'd appreciate it. Only you want to, of course,” you quickly add. “It doesn't feel right otherwise…”

It isn't a request. Nor a plea.

It's just what feels right.

He's done this many times to the point of instinct. It comes natural to him to please others. The aftermath, though, is something that he's also used to forgoing. The mess, the sweat, the fluids… the unnecessary and forced talk…

But you are different, aren't you?

You are not… the others.

And after all you've been through, he feels his mind nearly snap in half as he realises just how much he's still holding back with you.

Even something as simple as just staying still felt… tainted.

Slowly, he nods.

And slowly, your lips turn into a tender smile that he's grown to adore beyond comprehension.

“I'll stay.”

You heave a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

Astarion counters the impromptu detour with unmatched expertise, lowering his head and admiring just how eager your body is for him.

Before he drags his tongue along your folds, he slithers his hand down to reach for the front of his trousers, hurriedly undoing them.

It's his turn to sigh in relief as his cock is set free.

But now he misses the friction and the carpeted floor of your tent feels too rough.

His eyes roam around in search of something – anything – more comfortable.

And then he's caught off guard by your offer.

“Maybe this will help.”

A pillow.

He chuckles deviously, appreciating your creativity in moments such as these. Promptly, he takes it in his hand and positions it under him, his cock welcoming the soft surface.

“I adore that mind of yours,” he says cheekily.

You are about to voice a reply, but no word comes out when his tongue hits your entrance.

Immediately, your hips buck and his smile never wavers.

He knows what you crave, but he will take his time even if you're already close to the edge.

After all, he's addicted to his devotion to you even if he never utters it out loud. He prefers his actions speak for themselves. Words are treacherous and deceiving. Actions speak louder.

And so he indulges in you. He indulges you, because that is what keeps him from reaching the frayed ends of his mind.

You're what grounds him these days.

And he will ground you with him.

As such, he drags the tip along your folds, collecting your wetness and he only stops once it finds your clit.

A soft moan escapes your lips and he hopes you have it in you to keep it down so as to not wake the others.

He locks eyes with you one last time. “Are you ready, darling?”

Your hips roll twice, but he knows you're not ready. You never are for the pleasure he offers to you so passionately.

Another roll and he knows you're growing impatient, so he gives your clit a quick swipe of his tongue before he latches.

He doesn't begin suckling hard right away, as he needs to ensure he can steady you for what's to come. Both arms loop around your thighs and he allows his eyes to flutter shut, losing himself in you.

It amazes him how your body responds to him, and your hips try to find a desperate rhythm as if you're riding his cock.

The pillow under him provides enough friction for him to roll his own hips, eager to match your tempo.

He could feel the wetness drenching the fabric, but he can't bring himself to care.

Your hand finds his curls and he growls against your clit as you tug gently, but evidently craving more.

And more he gives you.

He's sucking more fiercely this time, taking his time to savour the swell in between his teeth. From this angle, he can feel your wetness coating his chin. He can't directly feel it, but he just knows you're clenching desperately around nothing.

Maybe he should take it slower.

Maybe he should pry you open with two of his fingers, even though you're wet enough to take a third one.

But the unexpected friction caused by the pillow is begging to edge him beyond belief.

Is it from the blood he drank? Is he just so ridiculously aroused? Why is your clit so swollen this time? Is it from his incessant suckles?

His mind turns into haze and he decides he's not looking for any logical answers.

He simply allows his hips to move on their own accord, matching the face with each suckle.

“Astarion… Gods…”

You're fortunate his mouth is kept busy, or he'd hurl a snarky reply. Gods have no place here. The delicacies of carnal bliss are reserved for those who tread the earth.

He's the only one who'd ever worship you, and you'd worship him right back, because that's how it's meant to be.

Precum drips from his tip at an alarming rate. He's too hard. He's too aroused. His body is seeking to be inside yours.

But he decided against it.

No.

He wants to see you unravel for him and in front of him.

His eyes open once again and he takes in the sight of your body undulating. Skin all flushed and eyes read to drop close as you near the precipice.

As always, his latch is impeccable. He never lets go and takes pride in leaving you dripping for him.

A few droplets run down his chin and dangle from it, bestowing upon him the most enticing silent praise he could ask for.

He knows you're close when your fingers close around his curls, desperately rocking your hips against him.

A low growl of approval rumbles in his chest and he's starting to struggle to keep his pace.

He has to find a way to still his hips before you reach your climax in fear you'll drag him along with you far too soon.

And so he does.

This time, he wants to see it.

He wants to see you as you come for him.

He's mostly perplexed that you found a way to muffle your moans, your shirt rolled up and captured in between your teeth, granting him the privileged view of your heaving breasts and hardened nipples.

Momentarily, his hips threaten to buck driven by pure instinct.

But he manages to hold back.

And when he's sure you're too far gone, head tilting back and legs shaking ever so slightly, does he unlatch from your clit.

He pulls back enough to witness the first sets of contractions course through your body.

Wetness drips from his chin, and he can't tear his gaze from the mesmerising way your entrance clenches rhythmically before him.

He's felt those contractions many times. He is well aware of just how vicious and relentless they can be around his cock, never failing to draw every last drop of his cum deep inside you.

Your muffled cries and the way your hips still momentarily, are all he needs to get lost in his own pleasure again.

He props himself high enough to place his hips at the right angle, rolling them urgently against the soft fabric of the pillow.

He's so close… so deliciously close.

Your taste lingers on his tongue and the vision of you still writhing under him holds his gaze almost painfully.

Your fingers ease on his curls and he feels the familiar tightening of his balls warning him that he's about to reach the point of no return.

It comes and overtakes his body so violently his mind blanks for a brief moment, as his mouth drops open.

He wants to groan and growl and hiss, but no sound comes out.

The friction is so overwhelming, he can't help but to lose balance, his lips finding your swollen clit once again.

And just like before, he latches instinctively and you try to jerk away from him, definitely being hit with a sting of oversensitivity.

He comes undone, suckling on you harder than ever before.

Ropes of cum spill from him rhythmically, his own contractions taking over. He can feel the fabric underneath him drench with each thrust, and he vaguely wonders how much of it he still has left in him.

Your clit is now the only thing grounding him as he rides out his climax and, in the far corner of his hazy mind, he's thankful that you eased into him once again, granting him the solace he is seeking so desperately.

There's only so much he can withstand as his senses are flooded with overwhelming pleasure, and he finds himself unlatching and almost slumping against your lower abdomen.

He's spent.

Utterly spent.

He thinks he hears a tender giggle, but maybe it's simply his mind playing tricks on him.

With effort, he hoists himself along your body, collapsing, the side of his face resting against your stomach.

He wants to say something, but he's rendered silent by the aftershock of his climax.

And that's when he feels your fingers again, raking along his scalp and through unruly curls.

“Are you leaving?”

He says nothing.

Your fingertips work their magic along his skin and he's sure you can lull him into a trance if you so wished.

You're too powerful and he's too in love with you to care.

“Astarion.”

Your voice is low and sweet and he hums in return, arm wrapped around your waist.

“Can we stay like this for a while?”

Who's he to deny you of it? Or himself?

He's sweaty and his cock drenched in cum and precum and you're a mess yourself. Hardly the epitome of romance.

Or maybe he's wrong because when you bring a soft piece of cloth to his temple and drag it along his face, he suddenly gets it.

He finally understands why you want him to stay.

Why it makes sense.

His eyes flutter shut as he basks in your tenderness and adoration.

You hum a soft tune under your breath, cleaning him up.

Face and neck first.

“Can you shift higher?” you ask.

He realises your intentions and lifts his head to stare at you.

“You don't have to.”

All you do is offer him a smile. Your smile. “I want to. Allow me, lover.”

No one has ever taken care of him. No one has ever bothered to. Not until you.

He silently does what you asked, too stunned to come up with a clever tease.

His eyes flutter shut in what comes close to embarrassment. For some reason, he feels more exposed than ever when you wrap the cloth around his cock.

“Tell me if it gets too much,” you say, your voice but a whisper.

He immediately shakes his head. “Not with you.”

A hiss parts his lips as you tenderly take care of him.

Astarion rests his head just above your breast and

“Do you wish to talk?” he asks.

Your lips find their way through his damp curls, placing a kiss atop his head.

“Do you want to?”

He chuckles, feeling his cock soften in your hand – definitely a first. “I fear I'm too drained to do so.”

“Silence it is,” you say and he feels your warm breath against his skin.

Not just any silence.

Comfortable silence.

The rare type old romance books mention in passing and that many seek to no avail.

But he's found it because he's found you.

Masterlist

#astarion bg3 #astarion #astarion smut #astarion x female tav #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion x you #astarion x oc #astarion x f!reader

2K notes · View notes

specialgrades · 9 months

Text

CRiTiCAL HiT ! ⏤ select genshin men and their sensitive spots

arataki itto, wriothesley, neuvillette

➜ ┊: cw ! porn without plot, monster fucking… kinda, dom!reader, nipple play, premature ejaculation, pet names ( sugar, baby, darling, my love ), reader’s gender not specified but is topping neuvillette ( could be read as a strap or a dick ), hair pulling, neuv is kinda ooc but we're gonna ignore that for now, cumming untouched, not beta read we die like men

notes. whoa hey. i'm kinda popping off recently. anyway this is only three characters cause they're the only ones i'm horny for. if you think i have a particular favourite you're probably right. dividers by cafekitsune as per usual, backbone of tumblr fr!

ARATAKi iTTO — horns

such a big man reduced to a whimpering mess if you stroke his horns! god forbid you do it while he’s already experiencing other stimuli…

itto’s grunts and groans mixed in with your own moans as his hips snapped against yours. his hair falling in his face as he hung his head, fangs almost piercing his lip with how hard he’s biting it. your hands gripping at the sheets as he makes it his mission to rearrange your guts. one particular thrust has his tip hitting that spot deep inside you directly; a broken scream leaving you as your hands flew up to him for anything to ground yourself with. fingers wrapping around his red oni horns, tugging as he keeps hitting that spot. itto moans loudly, hips stuttering. “sugar, don— oh fuck—!” you tug again, oblivious to his protests until you feel him cum inside of you a lot quicker than usual. his body shakes as he does, whimpers leaving him. he knew his horns were sensitive, but not that much; and god did it feel good. you blink at him, hands still holding onto his horns. “did you jus’... cum from having your horns touched?” you manage, shuttering as he slowly fucks his cum deeper into you. “sensitive— ah-!” he yelps when you tug again. any semblance of dominance he had slipped away as you played with his horns. his cock twitched back to life at record speed, his hips moving on their own. “fuck sugar, don’t stop… tug ‘em harder— jus’ like that, fuck! fuck…” he cums again, crying out as he did.

WRiOTHESLEY — chest

wrio never knew that his chest was that sensitive, he always just ignored that part of his body during his own time. your wandering hands change that…

wriothesley’s kisses were always hungry, sloppy. he doesn’t have much experience, but his eagerness to devour you every time your lips connect isn’t something you’d trade for the world. he helps you tug his tie off and undo his vest, the fabric hanging loosely off of his shoulders. all without breaking the kiss you had pulled him into a few minutes prior. your fingers work on the buttons of his dress shirt while he toys with the hem of your shirt. same fingers pushing under the fabric of his shirt, index fingers brushing against his nipples as you moved. wriothesley surprised himself with the moan that escaped him when they did, freezing up for a second. he feels you smirk against him, fingers brushing over his nipples again. he caught the moan this time— though barely— shaky noises escaping him as his nipples hardened under your touch. his slacks feeling even tighter than they did when you began undressing him. “sensitive, are we?” you ask against his lips. he’s trying to focus and doesn’t respond instantly; causing you to lightly pinch the buds. he whines, body unsure if it wants to push against or pull away from the sensation. “y-yes! don’t—” he breaks the kiss as he tosses his head back, eyes squeezed shut and bottom lip tugged between his teeth. you look down to his pants, part of the light grey turned a darker shade from how much he’s leaking just from your teasing. “let’s see…” you let go of his chest to walk him back against his desk. he had fully intended to fuck you against it not even five minutes ago, but the tables had turned. he felt your gaze on the evident bulge in his pants, wiggling his hips in hopes it’d get you to touch him. you did, but not where he wanted you to. pushing his shirt and vest from his shoulders to fully expose his torso, you went for his chest again. whimpers and moans spilled from him as you toyed with the sensitive skin. a particularly loud moan that caused him to bite his hand to silence himself when your tongue flicked against the left one. he felt the coil in his stomach tighten as your tongue swirled around the bud, your fingers tweaking the one your mouth wasn’t on. he shrugged the rest of his shirt off, hand gripping your shoulder as he thrusted his hips up into nothing. “baby ‘m gonna— please— fuck fuck fuck-!” he gripped you tight as he came untouched, cum soaking his underwear and pants. he shuttered when you gave one last pinch to his nipples, breathing hard when you pulled away. “hm… cute.” you surmise, running your finger along the wet spot of his pants. he pulled away from your touch, sensitivity heightened. you smiled at him, cupping his face gently. “think you got one more in you, baby?”

NEUViLLETTE — ears

it’s law that pointy elf ears are sensitive. argue with a wall. the iudex is no exception…

neuvillette buried his head into the pillows, shaky breaths turning into moans as the sound of skin hitting skin. he felt your lips on his nape and shoulder— licking, biting, sucking the skin there as you fucked into him. his cocks rubbing against the pillow you put under his hips and staining the cotton. pulling away from his shoulder after nursing the bruises you left, your eyes focus on the pointy ears of the iudex. your curiosity got the better of you and before you could stop yourself, your tongue darted out to lick at the shell of his ear. neuvillette shuttered and moaned, hole clenching as pleasure ran through his body. “darling not there plea—” he cut himself off with a moan when the mixture of you hitting his prostate and your tongue running along his ear made his entire body light on fire. “your weak spot, hm?” you muse, your voice rumbling against his skin. he moaned, nodding as he moved his hips to get more friction on his dicks and to fuck back against you. “please…” he mumbles, so close with the mixture of all the stimuli happening at once. “more…” he begs weakly. he doesn’t expect you to give in so easily, but he’s been so good all day you cave; pulling back until just the tip was inside him before harshly snapping your hips against his ass. you lightly bit the tip of his ear as you did, tongue still running along the cartilage. the iudex cried out, arching further into the mattress as he felt the coil begin to snap. “please let me cum darling, please ‘s too much please-!” he cries, trying so hard to hold back from cumming until you give him the green light. “so soon, neuvi? your ears that sensitive?” he nodded, rain hitting the window as you brought him closer to the edge. you hum, breath hot on his ear. “go on, my love…” you lick his ear again. “cum.” he does almost instantly, crying out as he makes a mess of the pillow and his stomach. he collapsed onto the mattress, small shocks going through his body from the intensity of his orgasm. you give him a minute before sitting up, hand wrapping around his hair and horns. with a tug he’s pulled flush to your chest. high pitched yelp left him as you did, feeling your breath against his other ear now. “let’s see where else you’re sensitive, hm?”

#✏️ ; works.#arataki itto x reader #wriothesley x reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin smut #love the concept that it rains when neuv cries so while fucking his brains out it pours #arataki itto smut #wriothesley smut #neuvillette smut #forgot about gradient text... smile (pained)

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inlovewithgreta · 2 months

Note

CAN YOU WRITE A WANDA X READER FIC THANK YOU I LOVE YOU

I am so so excited to share this, it took me forever but I’m happy with how it turned out!

Thank you for requesting my favorite marvel milf, I love you too and I hope you enjoy! xo

Naked In Manhattan - Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Summary: Wanda is eager to please you.

Warnings: praise, pet names, enchanted strap, slight breeding kink, fingering, mommy kink, not proofread...

Word Count: 1.6k

Taglist: @shslbunnylover @celasteria @bellatrixsbrat @aemilia19 @anonwhowrites

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Both you and Wanda were on the way home from a press event, sitting in comfortable silence with your head laid firmly against her shoulder.

Wanda leaned impossibly closer, giving the top of your head a sweet and tender kiss. You hummed when she tilted your head to plaster kisses along your entire face.

You couldn't help but giggle at the attack of kisses, cheeks instantly growing a shade darker, as they always did from her affection. Wanda was careful to pull your hair, forcing your face to hers to place a passionate kiss to your lips.

"What's got you all touchy feely?" you playfully questioned.

"You're just so gorgeous, I can't keep my hands to myself," she admitted, gazing at you lovingly. The redness in her eyes grew brighter as you tugged on her suit jacket and lowered your voice.

"Then don't..." you teased. Wanda groaned at your tone. She wanted nothing more than to take you right then and there, but the limo was far too public for her liking.

"We'll take the private elevator up. I don't want anybody interrupting us."

You captured Wanda's mouth on your own, starting soft but quickly turning feverish. Air was nonexistent until you two had to break away to leave the confinements of the car.

Holding hands all the way to the elevator, Wanda's heels clicked and clacked with every passing second, clearly impatient waiting for the elevator to come to the bottom floor.

Wanda practically drags you inside the elevator, only giving you enough time to press the button you need for the penthouse before her lips are on yours.

Knowing the elevator would lead straight to your penthouse, Wanda was quick with unbuttoning your blouse in record speed. Once your chest was visible, her lips left yours to roam down your neck.

Your back was pressed against the cold tiled wall as your grip on the woman grew stronger.

The ding of the elevator had Wanda's hands grip at the back of your thighs to carry you in her arms into your shared penthouse.

"Need you so bad..." you whined, tugging at her jacket. "Need your clothes off.."

"Yes, ma'am," Wanda smirked, hastily making her way to the bedroom to set you atop the mattress.

You whipped off your shirt as Wanda took off her own, and you couldn't help but take in every inch of her. Her body was perfect.

She was perfect.

Her own gaze was hungry as she stripped herself from her pants and took a daring step closer to you.

Your hands immediately reached for her, running them up and down the length of her body, drawing a fine line over her freckled skin.

Wanda is quick to pull at your own bottoms, to leave both of you in your underwear. The redhead straddles your lap to attack your neck. Your head instantly lulls back to give her more access.

You snap at the waistband of her underwear, smirking as she lets out a small groan.

"Get the strap," you demanded. "I want you to fuck me with your strap, please.."

"Such a naughty little thing," Her eyes darkened at your words as she gave you one last peck on the lips before pushing herself off you to grab the strap from the nightstand.

"Is this what you wanted, pretty girl?" She smirked, before tightening the strap around herself. The crimson toy matched the glow in her eyes, and you knew exactly what was coming.

"Yes.. that's exactly what I wanted, now come here," you beckoned her over. Your head fell flat against a plush pillow as Wanda crawled her way back up your body.

"You little minx.." Wanda's hands gripped behind your back, freeing your tits from your nude bra so she could palm them. Her thumbs circled your nipples until they peaked for her.

You drew in a sharp breath when her strap rubbed against your still clothed pussy. Wanda admired the way your chest rose and fell in anticipation.

"But you're mommy's little minx, isn't that right, baby?" She asked you, spreading your legs widely for her so she can slip your panties down your legs.

"Mhmm," All words were lost, completely vanishing when her fingers brushed your center.

"And so wet for me already," she chuckled, before letting one slender finger slide in your hole.

Wanda started tortuously slow, letting her finger glide in and out of you at the slowest pace imaginable.

"Mommy.." you bucked your hips, needing more than what she was currently giving you. "I need you.."

"I know you do, baby but I need to warm you up first," she reassured you. "You're so tight.." Ginger locks tickled your face when Wanda leaned in to give you a quick but tender kiss on the lips.

When she felt you relax more, a second finger slipped inside you. "Oh God," your back arched from the bed. "Feels so good..."

"You're doing so good for me," Wanda cooed. She peppered your face with gentle kisses as her fingers worked wonders on your core.

"Wanda, please..." you begged, tucking her stray crimson locks behind her ears. "Just fuck me already!" You pouted into the kiss as her fingers slipped out of you to line her toy up to your entrance.

"Your wish is my command," she took hold of her length, spreading your wetness across the tip of her toy before slowly pushing inside you.

"Fuck, you're so damn right around mommy's cock.." she groaned. Her eyes shined a bright crimson as she enchanted her strap.

She could feel your tight pussy grip her long cock as she pushed deep inside of you. "Oh— please— go faster..." Your legs wrapped around Wanda's waist, holding her flush against your body as she rocked her hips.

Wanda did as you commanded, slowly picking up her pace until she was pounding into you with such speed and precision that both of you were moaning loudly.

Her hands slid into your own, interlacing her fingers tightly with yours as she held your hands just beside your head. Red tendrils circled both of your wrists as Wanda used her magic to bind the two of you together.

The room filled with pornographic moans as you felt the redhead fucking you deeply, and Wanda feeling just how wet, warm, and tight you were around her with each thrust.

You could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge with each thrust and grunt the witch made. "Like this?" She asked, lips hovering next to your ear.

"Yes...God, yes!" Her lips moved to your neck, sucking and nibbling at the soft flesh. You couldn't wait any longer and found yourself clenching tightly around her glowing cock as you came hard.

"Fuck, baby that feels so good," she groaned. Your nails dug into her back as she fucked you through your high.

Your breathing was ragged, but a burst of energy ran through your veins as lust took complete control over your body. In one fluid motion, you expertly flip the two of you over to have you straddling Wanda.

The new position let Wanda hit deeper inside of your pussy as you bottomed her out with ease. Wanda was shocked at your sudden urgency to ride her cock, but her hands were quick to guide your hips.

"Come inside me, mommy," you beckoned.

You sank down onto her with a heavy thrust, earning a plethora of moans from the redhead as she watched you intently.

"You want mommy to fill you up, huh?" She asked through a series of moans as she bucked her hips up to meet you. Her glowing eyes couldn't help but stare at your tits bouncing heavenly in her face.

"Yes, mommy... fill me, please!" Your own hands fell to her shoulders to keep you steady as you rocked on her length.

"That's my good girl... taking mommy's cock so well," you cooed, fingers kneading at the soft flesh upon your hips. "Mommy is going to fill you up," she said.

Wanda moaned with pleasure as she thrusted deeply, matching the rhythm you had set for yourself. Her hands moved to cup your ass to steadily increase the tempo.

You reaching up to cup your breasts, fingers toying with your hardened nipples was the last straw for Wanda. A string of curses fell past her lips as the pleasure surged through both her and you.

"Fuck, baby... you're so beautiful.." Wanda filled you with her thick, warm come as she pulled you into a deep kiss. The two of you reel together as you come in sync.

Your whole body shook as you spasmed, while Wanda stilled before gently pulling herself out of you. You couldn't help but whine from the emptiness but Wanda only let out another moan as she watched your mixed come drop out of your used hole.

"Are you okay, my love?" She asked, using her wispy red magic to make the strap disappear.

"Mhm," was all you were able to get out, and Wanda helped you lay down on your side, seeing how spent you were.

Your body shook but your smile remained huge as your lover tucked your hair behind your ear and gave your sweaty forehead a loving kiss. Wanda always made your heart swoon at the tender moments, even just after rough sex.

"Mommy's gonna clean you up now so we can cuddle and get some sleep, okay?" She asked, holding her crimson palm towards your body.

With a nod of your head, Wanda used her experienced magic to clean both of you off before her eyes lost their signature red hue.

Wanda pulled you close, your leg instantly tangling with hers as she held you to her chest. Your eyes were quick to flutter, and Wanda let out a small giggle at your lashes tickling her chest.

"Get some sleep, baby." Her fingers gently ran through your hair to soothe you.

The last thing you remembered was the beautiful sound of her humming a lullaby to help lure you into a deep sleep.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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#lizzie olsen #elizabeth olsen #marvel #wanda marvel #wanda mcu #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #mommy wanda #wanda x you #scarlet witch #fanfic #smut #lesbiansmut #wlw smut #oneshot #lesbian

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magics-neptunes-things · 3 months

Text

Bang, Bang.

Hi guys!

So this is from this request and it won't be an happy one. It might contain some medical things who aren't right, but I'm not a doctor even if I made some research to write something logical.

Please enjoy and thanks again dear anon for your perfect request ♥

Also no proofreading for now, sorry!

TW : Fight between lover, gun, shooting, bleeding, hospital, coma, sadness and a lot of angst.

Champion’s league finale. You are playing with your team against Barcelona and more specifically your girlfriend’s team. The Spanish are looking for another cup to continue to break all the records, but your team is very motivated to stop them. It would be the first Cup for your club and for you, too. It’s not ideal playing against your girlfriend honestly, but you knew when you start dating that it was a risk to take.

Alexia and you are together for more than two years now, your forever crush becoming reality at a point during the Euro and when Alexia did her ACL. It’s not easy being away from your girlfriend, even if you are playing in Manchester city with some of your national teammates and friends (Laia Aleixandri and Leila Ouahabi).

The game is tough, at the end of the ninety minutes, each team has scored two goals. At the 93 minutes, you manage to take the best on the defender who is marking you, using your full speed after having received a very good pass from Laia. You can hear the crowd screaming, City’s fans encouraging you while Barcelona’s fans are booing. But when you are facing the keeper, you shut everything and send a cannonball in the upper corner of the net. The keeper can’t do anything.

You don’t have time to register that you just scored 1 minute before the end of the adding time, your teammates tackling you on the ground. This is a mix of jersey, hair, hug and pat on the head for several seconds, before the referee ask you to go back to your position to start the game again.

She made you play two minutes more to catch up the time you lost while celebrating, but Barcelona don’t score. Then the whistle resonate in the stadium and you just won the UEFA Champions League. Not knowing how to react, you stay still for many seconds, before someone jump on your back to train you in a group hug.

You don’t stay a long time though, you want to check on Alexia. You easily find your girlfriend sitting on the ground, her jaw clenched. There is no one around her, so you chose to go to see her. You promised each other that you won’t be resentful to the other, whatever the ending of this game is.

So you think nothing more than being a recomfort to your girlfriend when you arrive next to her.

“Hi” you say softly.

You don’t know if Alexia realized your presence before you talk, but the eyes she lays on you aren’t really friendly. But you decide not to stress about it, kneeling next to her to put a comforting hand on her arm.

“You played very well. I’m so proud of you for the way you leaded your team. And this goal was something else.”

You smile, referring to the second goal, a real banger from Alexia. She doesn’t answer anything, so you just continue talking.

“You can be proud of yourself too, you know? You did everything you could and gave all you could. It’s –“

“Can you please shut the fuck up?”

Alexia doesn’t look at you when she cuts you, but you can tell how angry she is just with the tone of her voice. You are surprised enough to stay quiet and she continues.

“Don’t act like you have all the merits on this win. Your team is lucky that some girls are injured and that we don’t have our usual team playing tonight. If we had all the players, we would have crush you. Don’t take your win for what it’s not. You are just lucky, this has nothing to do with talent.”

Well, you didn’t expect that. Alexia has always been supportive of you, but more generally she always has been respectful and fair play to her opponents. You realize that there is Leila and Patri standing behind you when Alexia gets up to go somewhere else.

“Alexia.” Patri says in a tone of reproach.

But your girlfriend doesn’t answer anything, still walking to the Barcelona’s bench. You can only look at her leaving, stunned by her reaction. You take Leila’s hand who helps you to get up.

“Don’t listen to her” Patri says before hugging you. “You were amazing.”

“Thank you” you mumble.

Leila hugs you tightly too, not without looking at Alexia with reproach too. After that, the ceremony has a bitter taste for you, to be honest. It can’t be seen on picture, you are smiling between Alanna Kennedy and Laia, raising the cup or kissing it. Or being kissed on the head by Laia.

But in reality, you just want to talk to your girlfriend. She didn’t look at you when she passed between the two lines of your team when she goes to take her silver medals. And then she just went to the locker room, not even watching you raise the cup. It hurts, as much as her words did.

But you try to be understanding, you know how bad your girlfriend deal with the idea of losing anything, probably taking all the mistakes on herself. You manage to catch her, hair down and wet, before she leaves with her teammates to take the bus to go back to her hotel.

“Alexia!” you call her.

You don’t see her sigh and roll her eyes, which is good otherwise you probably will be hurt a little more. She was walking with Irene and Ona and turn around to look at you. You already talked with the two others after the game, so you smile back at them when they smile to you before leaving both of you.

“What do you want?” Alexia says harshly.

You are a little stunned, by the tone of her voice and the question. But you don’t say anything, trying to ignore the strange feeling in your stomach. Alexia never talked to you that way. You almost never fought since you are together.

“Talk to you? Can we at least have some minutes together?”

There is a moment of silence.

“No. I don’t want to talk or see you right now.”

********

The celebrations are strange after that. You make all the efforts you can to keep a smile on your face and not ruin your teammate’s joy. Alanna and Leila are looking at you with intensity and you’re pretty sure that Leila told to Alanna what happened between you and Alexia. But you manage to keep them away from you enough to be able to leave as soon as Kerstin.

You tried several times to call Ale when you go back to your hotel, but she doesn’t answer. You prefer to think that she’s asleep and not ignoring you. You send her a message after that, hopping to have an answer during the night or in the morning.

You didn’t.

The morning after, when you wake up, you realize that there is no message from Alexia. Your social media are full of notifications but nothing from your girlfriend. You haven’t post anything either, not wanting to upset your girlfriend even more.

You were supposed to stay in Paris, where the finale was played, together for two days before going back to Barcelona. But with Alexia not giving you any news, you are really scared that she chose to go back to Barcelona without you.

After reading the list of your friends in the Barcelona’s team, you chose to try to call Ona. You can’t help but smirk when you hear Lucy’s voice instead of the Spaniard. But your friend comes several seconds after, and you are finally able to ask if she has news from Alexia.

You are relieved to learn that she’s still in Paris, and even more when Ona accepts to make you sneak in the hotel. Your plan is to go buy some flowers and chocolate for your girlfriend; this is her guilty pleasure. You discovered that during the first weeks of dating her.

After some research, you chose the best chocolate shop around your hotel and go to it to buy some. You take some time to select them, being sure that Alexia will enjoy every single one of them. When you are happy with it, you pay the box but add a cute white teddy bear sitting next to the cashier. No one seems to recognize you, which you are glad for. Like this you can take all the time you want.

You decide to walk to go to the florist, situated between the chocolate shop and Alexia’s hotel. The weather is great, sunny but not too hot. It’s still hotter than Manchester though.

The florist is very nice, and you look around while she’s serving other people who were already here when you arrived, right now it’s a family with a small girl smiling at you. You love the smell in here. The roses are amazing, and you ask the florist something with red roses in it. You look at her ease to make a wonderful bouquet with amazement.

“Tout le monde les mains en l’air !“

You hear the shout before you see the man, but the sweet florist’s face is suddenly very white. You don’t understand what was told, so you turn around to look what is happening.

There is a man with his face hidden behind a mask who is pointing a gun in your direction. You are glad that the family with the cute toddler left.

“A genoux!”

You don’t understand and you have to look around to know what he’s asking. The other raised their arms and are now kneeling, while you are still standing without moving.

That seems to make the man very mad. When you turn your eyes to him once again, he says something that might be a swear word. Then there is a sound of gunfire and the pain you feel is worst than anything you felt in your life.

You hit your head hard on the ground and suddenly the people around are screaming, but you don’t understand why. They are talking in French, and you have trouble to understand anything. It seems to you that the man got the money he wanted before leaving. The rush in your ears is very unpleasant and when you look at your chest, you realize that there is a big, red spot on your white shirt.

Suddenly there is a woman kneeling next to you, grabbing your face to make you look at her. It’s the florist.

“Hey! We called the ambulance, they are coming, ok? Stay awake, please.”

“I need to call Alexia” you breath, while taking your phone from your pocket.

“OK. I’ll press something on your stomach to stop the bleeding, ok?”

You just nod. Your hands are shaking while you open your phone, and your vision is blur when you look for your girlfriend’s number. It’s not hard to find though, she’s on the top of your list. You let the phone ring for several longs minutes before accepting the fact that Alexia won’t answer.

“She’s maybe still asleep” the girl points.

“No” you whisper shakily. “She’s mad at me. Those were supposed to be gifts for her”

“I’m sure she’ll love it”

You start to have trouble to breath. You close your eyes and try to take a big breath. You start to feel anxious too. Are you going to die without having heard your girlfriend’s voice a last time? Without being able to tell her how much you love her, how much she means for you?

You suddenly feels very tired, you understand what it’s mean. Fighting to open your eyes, you look for the woman’s eyes before talking. It seems like you don’t speak very loud, because she leans on you to understand.

“Will you tell her that I love her? Please. She always meant the world to me and I’m sorry that she’s so upset. Will you tell her?”

The woman’s eyes are wet when she talks to you.

“You will tell her yourself, Sweetheart.”

You know you won’t be able to. So you need her to promise you.

“Please. There are no words strong enough, but I love her more than anything. Will you give her my presents too? I wrote a card with the bear”

Your words are hard to pronounce, but you manage to say every single one of them, being sure to be understand. The woman nods and you feel relieved.

“I’m sure she loves you too.”

The woman cup your face and you decide to believe her. You close your eyes again and let yourself being wrapped by the memories you have with Alexia. The best of your life.

********

Alexia is sitting in a chair, her head in her hands. Everything seems unreal. Her eyes are red from crying, her throat is dry, and her head is pounding painfully. And she wonders if her breathing will be normal again at a moment.

She feels awful.

She was the worst girlfriend in the world for you and you never deserved it. You took the time to find her to talk to her even if you were probably drunk with the adrenaline of the win. You said sweet words to her, took the time to comfort her and she still had this behavior.

To be fair to her, she was really trying to find a way to come back to you to apologize. She was showering when you tried to call her after being shot, not knowing that you already made a plan with Ona to come to her.

Then, she received the worst call of her life. She’s the number one on your emergency calls so the hospital you were transferred to call her as soon as they could. It was three days ago, and she never left this room since.

You had a surgery and when she arrived in your room at first, you weren’t even here. Then they bring you in it and she learned that you probably won’t make it. But it’s been three days, and you are still here, your brain seems to still work correctly, and your heart is still beating.

You lost a lot of blood though and several of your organs got touched by the bullet. You are healing and it’s only because you are an athlete and in a very good shape that you are still alive.

Just when she thought that nothing could get worse, she received a visit that she didn’t except. She frowns at first when a cute girl entered your room with a teddy bear, a chocolate box and flowers. But then the florist explained to her what you ask her to do and that the precise moment where Alexia lost it.

You parents and Alexia’s mother join you in the hospital to be there for you, but for Alexia too. Ale’s mother never managed to get Alexia out of your room. Alexia sleep on the chair, Alexia eats the awful hospital’s food, Alexia takes shower in the bathroom of your room.

Sometimes she cries, sometimes she just looks at you. No one never heard her voice since she’s here. She’s so hurt that she feels like she can’t speak anymore. She only speaks to you when you both are alone. She’s so hurt, too, that she wants to rip her heart of her chest.

Alexia lost track of time, her mother and your parents left several hours ago now, and the sky is dark. The bips from the monitoring are still in the background, but Alexia doesn’t pay attention to them anymore. Unless they are making strange sounds, like yesterday. Your heart was suddenly in great difficulty.

The nurses explain to her after having stabilized you that it’s because your body need a lot to heal, and it could be hard for your heart.

The Spaniard keeps thinking that her behavior probably had hurt your heart so much that she’s responsible of your state. She is wrong of course, even if she was bad after the game, it’s not in any case of her fault.

When Alexia raises her head again to look at you, you are still with your eyes closed, your skin paler than ever. You are Spanish too, you have a natural tan skin, but now you look… ill. Alexia hates it.

“Mi Amor” she whispers while taking your hand in hers, her throat hurts when she talks. “I know you are doing everything you can to heal and come back. You don’t know what your life means to a lot of people here. Your parents, your family, your friends, your fans… Me, of course. But I don’t know if you steel want me after everything that happened. You got hurt because of me.”

If she wasn’t a little shit, you wouldn’t have been in this flower shop. That’s what she shouts to her sister when Alba tried to make her leave your room. Tears are rolling again on her cheeks, and you would probably kiss them if you were awake.

“I am so sorry. I’ll give everything to be at your place. I’m not able to ask it, but please come back. I need you so much. I don’t know how I am supposed to continue without you. You weren’t at Barcelona, but it’s seems like you are everywhere every time. Everything makes me think about you. I need you. Please. I’m so sorry.”

Alexia lost her father several years ago and it was heartbreaking, of course. Her father was her model when she was younger. Her guide. But you, you are the love of her life and she is convinced that she won’t survive your lost.

“Take the time you need to heal and then I’ll do everything for you to forgive me.”

Tears are rolling freely on her face, but she doesn’t care anymore since a very long time. She rather kisses your hand, relieved to feel the warm of your skin on her lips. Alexia frowns slightly while looking at your fingers though. They had to remove the ring you were usually wearing on your finger; the one Alexia offered you for your one year together. Alexia wears it around her neck on her chain, her fingers being too big to wear it on her finger.

“I love you. I’ll stay with you every second until you wake up.”

She means it and she did it. Even when they were other games played, she never left your side. They talked about transferring you in England, where you live, but Alexia refused, and your parents agreed with her. They never doubt about the love Alexia had for you; you never hide from them how good Alexia treated you during your time together.

You weren’t really aware of that to be honest. You were somewhere over the rainbow, far away from your girlfriend and the one you love. Even if it isn’t the case for Alexia, it’s better for you. Seeing Alexia’s distress would probably break you. You sometimes feel lighter, but you like to think that it’s the time when Alexia takes your hand or kiss it.

********

“We would like to make her try to breath without monitoring. We need to see if she’s able to breath alone.”

“No.”

Alexia’s answer is harsh and cold, but her mother puts a hand on her shoulder to calm her. Your mother is more diplomatic about her answer.

“Isn’t it risky?”

“Everything is risky” the doctor says, trying to ignore Alexia’s glare. “But her organs are better, and we need to revise her treatment. We will stop the monitoring for an hour, and we will check her oxygen constantly during the process.”

“What if she stops breathing?” Alexia asks.

“The chances are very rare. In fact,…”

“What. If. She. Stops. Breathing.”

Your father smirks when your girlfriend talks again, carefully articulating each of her words with cold anger. He always loved Alexia and he probably loves her even more right now.

“We will put her back on monitoring and try something else.”

Alexia snorts and crosses her arms on her chest. She hates that idea; she hates the idea that they are putting you in danger without any reason. She doesn’t say that it’s bullshit just because her mother is here and she is always careful about the words she chooses when Eli is around.

“I won’t leave her side a single second” she rather informs your medical team.

She doesn’t when they try, her eyes being on the screen with the indicator of your oxygen in your body or on your chest, watching it raise every single time. When one hour is passed and you are still breathing normally, she feels a little better. The medical team decided to let you like this for now, wanting to see if you can make the night.

The night pass and you are still breathing. Then a whole day.

“I’m so proud of you” Alexia whispered against your forehead before kissing it softly.

She explained to her mother how she treated you the next time you saw her, the guilt was eating her alive. Her mother didn’t try to tell her that she’s wrong to feel that way, Eli agreed with Alexia about how bad she was. She nevertheless comforts her daughter with words she knew were true. She remembers to Alexia how much you love her and that you still went to grab her presents before wanting to come to her.

Three days without monitoring and you are still breathing like you are peacefully sleeping. They are still feeding you with your catheter but other than that you don’t need anything to be alive.

Everything was fine and that’s why she panicked when you start to whine suddenly. Hands shaking, she jumps from her chair looking around before pressing the button to call the nurses. She doesn’t know what she managed to say, but the nurses start to talk way to fast in French, one of them taking her phone to call the doctor.

“What is happening?” Alexia asks, her breath almost impossible to take.

“We need you to leave the room for a little time” one of the nurses asks her.

“No way!”

“Alexia…”

Eli’s voice makes her daughter looks around, but the blond doesn’t move. She just shakes her head, informing every single person in the room that she won’t leave you. Bad or good news, she will be here. She needs to be here.

The three women don’t have the time to convince Alexia a little longer, because the doctor suddenly comes into your room, talking in French too and Alexia wonders if she will explode from frustration soon.

She sees several monitors coming into your room too and when your mother-in-law comes to your girlfriend to pass her arms around her shoulder, Alexia looks at her with lost eyes.

“Is that it? Is she dying?” she whispers.

Eli feels her heart break, but she doesn’t answer. She doesn’t know. She just cups her daughter’s face and keep her face on her chest. Eli doesn’t move when Alexia grip her arms pretty hard, tightening her daughter even closer to her, trying to protect your girlfriend from another lost.

The next minutes were agonizing for your girlfriend, and she can’t open her mouth when the doctor comes next to her. She doesn’t understand all the bip from the different monitors around you. She doesn’t know if you are still alive or not.

“She is ok” he says at first, having learn to understand Alexia through the days, and your girlfriend feels like she might faint from relieving. “I think she is trying to wake up. The next hours will be decisive.”

After that, Alexia sits even closer to your face to have a better look at you. Every night her mother goes back to the house Alexia rent for her and your family so they can be close to you.

She hasn’t sleep since more than twenty-seven hours when you move again. But this time you open your eyes and look around. You seem scared, your eyes looking around you.

“Sh Bébé, can you hear me?” Alexia whispers after having regained some composure.

Her hand is on your face, soft like a feather. She manages to calm you quickly and you nod very softly. Alexia sees it anyway.

“You are at the hospital. You are safe, ok? Just try to breath a little slowly.”

You keep looking at her, trying your best to calm yourself. You don’t know how many minutes have passed before you swallow your saliva and open your mouth.

“No. Don’t talk. Keep your energy, ok?” Alexia whispers again.

As your memories come back, you are relieved to see that Alexia is by your side. She looks like she hasn’t sleep or eat in the last two weeks, but you don’t leave her face with your eyes, even when she moves to let the doctor and nurses check several things on you.

You tiredly let them do what they want with you and Alexia never left you with her eyes either. She watches the medical team to be sure they are doing things right with you. When they talk to you in English, you are way to tired to understand what they are saying. Luckily, your girlfriend is here to translate in Spanish.

“They want to know if you are hurt somewhere. Don’t shake your head, just close your eyes two times if you are hurt and one if you are ok.”

You blink slowly one time. You are not hurt, you are tired. Your answer seems to relieve everyone around and you close your eyes to rest when they are talking in English again. Alexia answers something and you trust her to make things right. They are talking for several minutes before the silence is here again.

You open your eyes suddenly, scared that Alexia has left too. But she’s here, typing on her phone, informing your parents and family that you are awake. She seems surprised to see you watching her when she puts her phone down.

“I thought you fall back asleep” she says softly, turning her body to look at you. “Do you want to drink?”

You blink once and she almost run to get you a glass of water from the bathroom. If you were able, you probably have laugh at her. You hope to have a little of water in your mouth can help you to talk. Alexia uses the buttons of the bed to make you seat and is very careful in every of her move to help you drink.

“They said a little bit at time”

You oblige and the feeling is amazing honestly. You look at your girlfriend and you focus on your sentence before talking, not wanting to waste any energy.

“Did you get my presents?”

Your voice is awful, but it’s not a surprise. You don’t really know since when you are here, without talking. But you need to know.

Alexia turns in your direction and suddenly her eyes are wet with tears and her hands are shaking.

“I did. That sweet girl came in here to give them to me the first day. The flowers are here” she points them. “Thank you, even if you shouldn’t needed to get me any of this. We will talk about it later, but Y/N/N I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you. You are the sweetest and most perfect girl in the world. And I love you more than anything.”

“Alexia…”

She puts her finger on your lips, putting you in silence.

“Keep your energy for when your parents are coming.”

You roll briefly your eyes and for the first time in weeks, Alexia smiles. Not her sometimes awkward smile, who makes you think about that Friend’s episode where Chandler is supposed to smile for his engagement’s pictures. You always teased her about it.

“I love you more than anything too” you whisper when she takes her finger back. “Stay with me?”

“Of course I will”

You don’t know that she never left your side since you are here. Just like her mother several hours ago, she cups your face with extra care before stroking your hair. Right to her words, Alexia never left you for a second and wait for you to be able to go back to Barcelona for your recovery.

********

Several Months Later.

“What would you think about me coming to play in England?”

In shock, you spit out the pudding you were innocently eating. Like every morning since your hospitalization, Alexia and you are talking over FaceTime while you are eating your breakfast. Like always, Alexia just came back from her morning jogging and is eating her breakfast too.

“What the hell are you talking about?” you ask, the choc passed.

“Me playing in Manchester? I really want to be close to you. I hate being so far away from you and being able to have you in my arms only for two weeks every two months.”

You probably are dreaming or hallucinating. You look at your girlfriend on your screen like if you were waiting for her to tell it’s only a joke. That’s what you are waiting, to be honest.

“Alexia, you will die in the English weather” you point. “And they are eating pudding and beans on a toast for breakfast here, I don’t know how you would survive.”

Your girlfriend rolls her eyes – just like she hates you do – and seems suddenly to find her tortilla very interesting.

“Don’t you want me there with you?” she asks with insecurity.

Since you got shot, you sometimes have the impression that she’s just waiting for you to break up with her. Something you will never do, how in the world are you supposed to live without your reason to breath?

“That’s not the point Cariño” you assure her with a smile. “I would love to be able to wake up every morning next to you.”

“What is it then?”

She’s almost pouting and you want to squeeze her cheeks with your hands.

“There is something I haven’t talked to you about.”

She looks panicked when she raises her eyes on your, turning your head back on you so quickly that you wonder if she hurts herself.

“What?”

“Don’t be mad, ok?” you begin, starting to eat your porridge again. “But I might have received an offer from Barcelona. I haven’t talk to you about yet because I wanted to be sure that it’s a real offer and that they are serious about it. City seems ok with me coming back to Barcelona, but nothing is signed for now.”

“Do you want it? Coming back?”

You look at your girlfriend thoughtfully. You understand where this question comes from, Alexia just wants to be sure that you are not doing things for her, but for you and your career.

“I miss Barcelona. I miss the Spanish weather, I miss my family… Sure I’ll miss Laia and Leila and the RFEF is still shit, but I want to give it a try.”

“Ok” Alexia smiles.

You can see that she’s thinking about something, but you don’t pressure her to talk. You know that it will comes when she will be ready. You finish your breakfast, talking about everything and nothing while Alexia looks at you from the corner of her eyes. The thoughts haunting her mind come out loud several minutes later.

“Are you going to go back to your parent’s?”

“Like living with them?” you raise an eyebrow before continuing when Alexia nods. “No, of course not. I’m 24 years old, I’m way to old to live with my parents again” you laugh softly. “Why?”

“I was thinking that there’s enough room in my closet for both of us. If you want it.”

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” you smile tenderly.

“Yes, if you want to?”

“I would love it, Ale.”

______________________________________________________________

To be honest with you I wanted to make R died but I can't stand a sad Alexia.

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

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icyminghao · 3 months

Text

the world of fiction

pairing: jihoon x gn!reader genre: fluff, crack, established relationship, drabble warning(s): mentions of death (of fictional characters) word count: 0.7k

summary: jihoon comes home to the sound of you crying, and he’s utterly confused as to why.

Coming home to the sound of you crying was not what Jihoon expected to be greeted with.

But he’s here now, in this very moment, feet rooted to the floor as he faintly hears your muffled sobs from the bedroom.

Jihoon freezes, racking his brain for anything that could have happened in the past twenty-four hours that could have upset you.

Did he do something wrong? Not that he’s aware of. Did you have a bad day at work? You took the day off, citing a self-care day. Are you mad that he wasn’t here to accompany you? You specifically told him not to waste his breaks despite his insistence, reassuring him that you were probably just going to sleep in and finish the manga you were hooked on recently.

Right, Jihoon’s eyes widen, you said you were going to finish the manga.

In all his years of knowing and loving you, Jihoon will never get used to the way you tend to get emotionally attached to whatever you read or watch.

To him, the ending of a story just means that he can move on to another, but to you, the ending of a story is like the end of a world you’ve grown much too fond of. The reality of having to part with the characters and the story always puts you in a depressed state for a few days at the least.

It’s why Jihoon tends to gift you books or recommend you shows that are part of a long series, so you can stay in their world for longer.

Quickly removing his shoes, Jihoon practically bolts to your shared bedroom upon recalling your plan for the day, and sure enough, you’re curled up on your side of the bed, one hand clutching the last volume of the manga Jihoon had recommended a while back and sobbing into your pillow.

You lock eyes with Jihoon’s worried ones as he stands by the bedroom door, and you start sobbing even harder.

“y/n…” Jihoon carefully walks closer towards you, slowly sitting beside you as he reaches for your free hand.

“Ji…” you whine in between sobs, “I finished the manga.”

Jihoon resists the urge to smile at how cute you’re being right now. “I know, baby. How was it?”

“It’s so… sad!” you sniffle, moving to bury your head in Jihoon’s lap as you wrap your arms around his torso. “Too many people died. But they were all reincarnated and happy at the end, so I am, too…”

Jihoon smiles, very evidently endeared by your rambling. He looks down at your tear-stricken face, wiping away your stray tears with his thumbs. “It’s a happy ending, baby, don’t cry.”

“I’m just sad that it’s over, Ji,” you pout, and Jihoon cups your face with both hands. “Thank you for recommending the manga to me.”

Jihoon hums. “It’s not over yet, you know.”

Upon processing the words that left your boyfriend’s mouth, you sit up, eyes widening in anticipation. “There’s more?”

Jihoon chuckles.

While he was picking out what to recommend to you, the deciding factor came down to its length (provided that the story was good, of course). Jihoon knew you would devour books or mangas in record speed, so he came prepared.

And what better than a manga series and an anime series?

“They adapted the manga series into an anime,” Jihoon explains, watching as your eyes light up, “It’s not complete yet, but the last arc is coming soon in the form of three movies.”

You squeal, practically pouncing on your boyfriend as you engulf him in a bear hug. Jihoon falls backwards onto the bed from the impact, laughing.

“It’s not over!” You exclaim, “Where can I watch the anime? Have you watched it yet?”

Jihoon rolls over so the both of you are now lying on your sides, looking into each other’s eyes. He shakes his head.

“I haven’t. I was waiting for you so we could watch it together.”

“I love you.” you declare immediately, and Jihoon blushes furiously before letting out the softest, most endeared laugh.

“I love you too, baby.”

Jihoon may never get used to the way you tend to get emotionally attached to whatever you read or watch, but he sure as hell will do anything to let you enjoy the various worlds you end up in for as long as possible.

a/n: i have been. like. word vomiting in my wips and i feel like everything i write is so bad it is absolutely unpublishable but i just finished demon slayer and i got so sad so i decided to write this. very self-indulgent i love demon slayer the last arc broke me and i’m so excited for the movies. need somebody to match my freak like jihoon does for reader here

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua @viscade @pepperonidk @belladaises @tastymintchocolate @kwantaro-deactivated20240614 @chanceonceli @hrts4hanniehae @leehanascent @nonononranghaee

masterlist

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niluffa · 1 year

Text

tw : subby sukuna, praising, really ooc | cw : 0,8k

“you wanna cum?” you whisper into sukuna’s ear. his back was firmly pressed against your chest, your bicep barely brushing past his waist as you stroked his cock from behind.

this was embarrassing. he was the king of curses, you were supposed to be the one begging for release, not him. guess the tables have changed a bit too quickly.

“y-yeah,” sukuna whines, voice and throat raw from the amount of times he screamed his lungs out─how many times did he cum again? sukuna can’t remember, and if you asked for the number, he would be screwed.

“yeah, pretty boy?” you chuckle, slowing your hand down on purpose. he has been through so many orgasms, he can take a small break, can’t he?

according to him, the answer is no.

“no!” sukuna sobs out at the lack of sensation on his cock, and he knew you did it to play with him─taking your one and only chance to mock and toy with the ryomen sukuna himself.

but how can he think of himself as mighty when he’s begging for your hand to start moving again?

“what do we say when─” you get cut off.

“p-please!” sukuna cries, hands aggressively itching to just grab you by your throat and force you on his cock─which, he doesn’t, since even though he’s the strongest, he’s a bit scared of you, (he’ll never admit it.)

“oh?” usually, you would slap him for cutting you off, but for now, you took your time to admire your two hours of hard work.

sukuna’s entire body was covered with sweat, his muscles gleaming under the orange tones of the sunset that peeked from behind the curtains.

tears, drool, and snot ran down his face. the normal sight of a crying person was a red face─which sukuna couldn’t dodge. the angry red colour dusted his cheeks, matching the current state of his cock.

the shade of red his poor dick held was so unintentionally gorgeous, it almost brought tears to your eyes.

in reality, it didn’t─your face holding zero amount of pity.

“good pet,” you praised him as if you trained a dog─telling him what things he did correctly and what he messed up. taming the king of curses wasn’t easy, but you did notice minor changes in his behavior.

your hand sped up. yes, you could stay at the painfully slow pace and watch sukuna cry himself to another orgasm. but he’s been such a sweetheart lately, and how could you deny his pleasure when he looks at you with those glossy crimson eyes of his?

“yes, yes, yes,” sukuna babbled at the sudden change of speed. his sharp fangs sunk into his bottom lip in an attempt to hide his moan─which failed as he still managed to choke out a few weak whimpers.

you’ve seen sukuna in many states, and his superhuman stamina never failed to amaze you, whether it was in a fight or during your intimate times in the bedroom.

but even then, you could see that sukuna was slowly reaching his limits. his throat was raw, only able to create the same pair of weak whimpers and whines.

it was visible on his face too. the way his eyelids struggled to stay open, and his mouth opening and closing like a fish. he kept switching between biting his lip to hide his moans and letting his jaw drop so he could gasp for air.

nevertheless, he was close.

“p-please,” sukuna chokes out again. the back of his head rested against your shoulder as he brutally failed to keep his spine straight─it’s not like he wanted to look at his cock being stroked either.

“i know, ‘kuna, i know,” you whisper and for the sake of ending his suffering, your wrist moves faster. sukuna felt the soft pad of your thumb brush against his tip every time your hand went up and he yelped.

“f-fuck!” sukuna cries, mouth hanging open to let out the most hot-blooded moans you’ve ever heard. damn, if only you had recorded him, you were sure his onlyfans would pay your rent for months.

“g-gonna cum─” sukuna gets cut off by his own moan, which was rather high-pitched and almost too feminine for the way he looked. the familiar burning feeling inside his tummy rose every second, tears and snot pouring down his face.

“‘s okay,” you coo at him, thumb circling around his hole every now and then─sukuna sob, and you grin, “you can let go, hm?” sukuna doesn’t argue, he doesn’t growl, hiss, or yell like he always does.

he listens and comes. and when he does, he comes hard.

the overwhelming feeling of release washes over him, thin and watery ropes of cum, that were caused by the unknown amount of orgasms he had before, landing right on right on his chest.

“you did so good,” you hum and continue to milk his cock to help him get rid of every last bit that was left of him; even against his protests of “too much!”

but in the end, he got his release, so who is he to complain?

#niluffa #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sub sukuna #sub sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sub sukuna x reader #sub sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen x you #sub sukuna x you #sub sukuna ryomen x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sub jjk #sub jjk x reader #sub jjk x you

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fourmoony · 1 year

Text

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚

𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⭒⭒⭒

𝟏𝟖+ 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈. 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯. 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱. 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐩𝐢𝐞. 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭.

𝟏.𝟐𝐤 - masterlist

⭒⭒⭒

“Shit – Jamie!”

The sun is shining through the small gap in the curtains, dust molecules illuminated in the bright light. The air is thick with humidity, hearts racing, lips entangled, skin meeting skin and James – oh, James – is setting a delicious, relentless pace that you think might just kill you. You’ve no idea how he does it. Be it his to the dot Quidditch training schedule, luck, or just plain determination, you really don’t care. It’s benefiting you, his inhuman ability to be anything other than extraordinary, and you’re not one to complain, or question, or have any coherent thoughts, really.

It had started slow, just like it always did, and built into the sweetest, most delicious torture you’d ever experienced. James had you, the minute you’d shown up to his empty dorm room, nothing but a pair of pyjama shorts and his quidditch jersey on. He’d been half hard at the mere idea of your arrival, and it had taken him a breaking record of five minutes to have you naked and writhing, moaning his name with your legs over his shoulders, hands in his messy black hair.

James hikes your leg higher up his waist in response to your keening, hips slamming at breakneck speed into yours and your brain short circuits when he moans your name into the flesh on your neck. You’re both sweaty, worked up, getting needier the longer he holds out. He’s been doing it for hours, it feels. Speeding up, getting relentless, dragging you close, close, close, to the edge, just to stop, slow down, ‘take a breather’ as he calls it. Except he knows exactly what he’s doing. And he knows that no matter how much you whine and complain, that you love it just as much.

“Please, Jamie. Please, please, please…”

You know you don’t make any sense; he’s quite literally fucked you into delirium and the only thing you can think of is how good he makes you feel.

“I know, baby, I know. Gonna make you feel so good.” He promises, his hand that isn’t pressed against the headboard comes to grab at the flesh of your arse, lifting your hips just the tiniest bit but oh, gods, does it feel good.

It’s maddening, really, the feel of him on top of you, hot and heavy, and inside you, even hotter, larger, and hitting every single spot that could ever need to be hit. His hips roll into yours; his teeth graze the pulse point by your neck, your legs wrap tighter around him, the hand previously on your arse comes back around to reach between your writhing bodies, attaches itself to the swollen bundle of nerves that’s been swollen and lacking attention for what’s felt like hours.

James gets frantic the louder you get, babbling nonsense, veins on fire with pleasure, head spinning with desire.

It’s dizzying, the drag of his skin against your hard nipples, and you scream when James’ hand slips on the headboard and he forcibly ruts further into you.

“Baby, baby,” James groans, his eyes meeting yours, filled with a bright twinkle only sex can bring about, “You’re doing so well. Always so well.”

James isn’t making much sense either, barely sentences strung together in an attempt to praise you.

With his hand off the headboard, James switches your position, pulling you up and into his lap as he sits on his haunches. His eyes darken at the sight of you, sweaty, delirious, but a blinding light of ethereal beauty. You know he’s challenging you, about to tell you your least favourite words of all, because James is a dutiful boyfriend, he’s attentive and caring and would bend over backwards for you. It’s safe to say that in the year you’ve been together, he’s singlehandedly – through his own actions, and no fault of your own, definitely not – turned you into that of a spoiled, bratty, pillow princess.

“Get yourself off on me, baby,” James tells you, eyes dark, smile mocking.

He knows this only makes you more frustrated, more needy. And you know that’s what he loves; you, begging for him, needy, restless, at his disposal.

It’s mean.

“Jamie, please,” You pout, circling your hips.

He winces, hips twitching upwards, and you smile that sickly sweet smile.

“You want to finish? Do. It. Yourself.” James orders, hand leaving your hip to slide menacingly up your navel, landing on your neck.

He doesn’t apply too much pressure, just enough to have you seeing stars, your hips lifting on their own accord. He feels impossibly larger like this, dragging menacingly against your walls, a delicious form of torture you’ll never, ever tire of. Every nerve ending is on fire, arching into James, his hand holding you up by your neck. It’s filthy, raw, and you wouldn’t dare to have it any other way.

You build a rhythm, loving the way the inside of your thighs are slick, rubbing against James’ every time you return to his lap. James switches from looking at your face, a contorted mix of pleasure and desperate need, and puts his face between your breasts, licking and biting at the skin there. You whine, moving impossible faster.

You’re tired, past the brink of exhaustion and your muscles hurt, and James puts both hands back on your hips, lifts you up and down forcefully until you’re slamming down onto his lap. It’s wet and messy, you feel yourself climbing closer to that edge again and you’ll be fucking damned if James takes it away from you. You speed up, James’ hands help, strong and steadying and your breath hitches when he takes a hard nipple into his mouth and tugs.

“Ohmygod.” He groans around the skin when you clench around him, hips stuttering as you fall into release.

You see stars, and songbirds, hear crashing waves, a white-hot flush of pure pleasure and you scream his name, over and over like a mantra. You continue to rut against James until he follows after you, biting hard against the flesh of your breast, the pain is dizzyingly amazing, as his release washes over him. You fee him spill inside you, hot and white and it makes you giggle deliriously, happy and content.

“I love you,” He breathes, craning his neck to look up at you, “I love you,” He kisses your collarbone, “I love you,” another kiss to the base of your neck, “I love you,” Your jaw, “I love you,” a soft kiss to your lips.

You smile, floating, and press a kiss to his lips, “I love you, too.”

Your bodies are slick, exhausted, trembling with the last remains of pleasure.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, baby.” James says after he catches his breath.

He kicks his legs out from under him, shuffling with you still in his lap toward the end of the bed where he stands. You wrap your legs around him, wincing when his softening member shifts inside of you, he carries you both to the bathroom, giggling and squealing when he swats your arse and sets you down onto the toilet.

The loss of him is debilitating, but with the cheeky smile on his face as he reaches over and turns on the shower, you guess he’s a long way from being done.

James Potter and his never ending stamina.

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loveinhawkins · 2 years

Text

i’ve recently become aware of this starcourt mall commercial & i’m dying at the thought of Eddie seeing it, bored out of his mind, until Steve appears on screen with that stupid sailor’s hat and the world’s most awkward, “Ahoy!”, and, oh, Eddie’s grin is evil.

“Why did you tape over Dallas?” Wayne asks that night.

“Wayne,” Eddie says solemnly, “I needed to record the best moment of my life.”

Of course, Steve finds the tape later, because the universe likes to laugh at Eddie, apparently.

Spring Break of ‘86 is a few weeks away—thanks to one distracted moment, Eddie unknowingly puts the wrong tape in the case before returning a rental to Family Video, then speeding off to band practice.

Steve doesn’t notice the mixup until a few hours later, when he routinely opens the VHS cases to check that the tapes have been rewound. When he sees the tape devoid of any movie sticker, he can’t resist watching it; his shift is dragging by.

He gets 20 minutes into Dallas before it cuts off, and the commercial plays.

His jaw drops, and he groans in embarrassment, but he’s laughing when he calls for Robin in the back room, and then they’re watching it together, cracking up. They both remember filming it, remember looking at each other and swearing to never speak of it again, but they’d never actually seen it, and well… it is pretty funny.

Steve gets an evil grin of his own when he sees that the rental account is in Eddie’s name.

When he calls, he gets Mr. Munson on the phone, and because Steve can also be a meddling little shit when the conditions are right, he makes up some story about the store having new forms, that he just needs Eddie to sign one quickly.

The next day, Eddie strolls in, and Steve looks him right in the eye.

“Ahoy, Munson,” he says, deadpan.

Eddie freezes in place. He briefly considers turning around and walking into traffic.

“Harrington,” he says stiffly.

“Hey, man,” Steve says, relentlessly chipper, “so we’re kinda down on one copy of—” He glances over to the computer. “—Life of Brian, and up one copy of, uh…” He lifts Eddie’s tape off the counter, smirks. “I guess, half of Dallas.”

Eddie stalks over. “It was… for school,” he blurts out unconvincingly. “Recording Hawkins history. Nothing personal, King Steve.”

Steve lets the venom in the nickname bounce off him. “Starcourt was pretty, uh, historic,” he says mildly, fighting another smirk.

“Whatever,” Eddie snaps, losing what little patience he has left—despite all of his performances to the contrary, the thought of people laughing at him still makes his skin crawl. “Let me get out of your massive hair, Harrington, and I’ll bring your fucking video back.”

Steve raises one hand, palm out. “Woah, chill,” he says, and as Eddie’s nostrils flare, he feels a little twinge of guilt; he didn’t actually mean for all of this to come across as mean-spirited or anything. “Sorry, man. I’m not trying to be a dick, I swear.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Could’ve fooled me.” But he looks a little calmer, raises an eyebrow. Well?

“Here,” Steve says, handing over the tape, and he doesn’t react when Eddie snatches it back. “Oh, and I extended the rental on your movie.” He shrugs. “Saves you a double trip, y’know?”

“Thanks,” Eddie says, after a pause.

“No biggie.” And when Eddie makes to leave, Steve calls, “Hey, Munson?”

Eddie turns at the door, no longer quite as cagey. “What?”

Steve shrugs again. “Thanks for the mixup, I guess?”

“You’re kidding,” Eddie says flatly.

“No, I mean it, dude. Like, once I got over the, well, embarrassment of, um, everything, it was actually kinda… nice to see it.” He nods to Robin in one of the aisles, guiding a customer over to a movie. “Me and Robin, we—it was nice to have something about Starcourt that we could laugh at.”

Eddie considers him. “Were you in the fire?”

Steve smiles, and if Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d say there’s more than straightforward sadness on his face. “Yeah, got caught up in it.”

Eddie slowly, thoughtfully, opens the door but doesn’t leave, leans against it. He looks Steve up and down. “Damn shame you don’t have a hat in your get-up here, Harrington.”

Steve mock scowls, ruffles his hair. “I’m not suffering through that again.”

Eddie finds himself smiling without meaning to. “You poor thing. I guess once is enough.”

And Steve rolls his eyes this time. “Yeah, yeah, once. You’ve goddamn immortalised it, Munson.”

Eddie snorts. “Oh, but I had to,” he says, tucking the tape under his arm, “for posterity. In a hundred years, there’ll be sonnets written about your sailor outfit, Steve Harrington.”

And, whoops, that wasn’t planned, Eddie thinks. Laying it on a bit thick there.

Steve laughs, but not at him; Eddie can tell now. “Go enjoy your Saturday, Munson.”

Eddie gives a lazy salute. “Ahoy.”

And as Eddie leaves, he spots a note on the counter, next to the usual Be kind, rewind reminders. It’s handwritten, with a cartoony winking face: And check what’s inside!

#this was meant to be a shitpost and become a fic woops #pre steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie

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aealzx · 13 days

Text

_______________________

Update Post

Prologue | AO3

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_______________________

“So…Let me just summarize to make sure I understand,” Jazz requested, feeling a little overwhelmed by all the new information Bruce, Barry, and Leslie had explained to her, but at least not so overwhelmed to the point of breaking down anymore. She’d just never heard of something like hemoperfusion before, so it had been a lot to take in. “Danny has blood blossom toxin throughout his blood stream, and since blood blossoms don’t exist here there’s no antitoxin to inject him with. And since developing one would take too long and be too risky, you want to try hemoperfusion. Which is like hemodialysis, except it removes toxins instead of fluids. And since hemoperfusion is known to cause a mild decrease in various common blood components, you want to have a blood donation from Danielle to offset that. Because she’s the only one here who also has ectoplasm in her blood, and you don’t want to dilute that in Danny since he’s already low…Did I get all of that?”

“Yes,” Bruce answered simply, giving a small nod. He was ready to go over anything they needed to again, a tablet in his hand ready to be used to open any of the files he’d already shown Jazz a second time. She had reacted to the information about Danny’s condition with anxious fear, but overall she was managing to remain significantly calmer than earlier that day.

Jazz was silent as she ran through everything she could remember just one more time, as well as trying to think of anything that they may have missed. Either because it was an oversight, or they simply just didn’t know. But she couldn’t see any risks other than the ones they had already told her they were aware of. She honestly wasn’t sure she would have caught the risk of diluting the ectoplasm in Danny’s blood herself. Amity always had an abundance of ectoplasm leaking everywhere, so even when Danny has spent a lot he’d always been able to recover some from the ambient. It, and the way they had addressed this situation, was enough for her to finally look to Bruce and nod. “Okay. Go ahead.”

Bruce was admittedly pleasantly surprised at the response, but kept his response in check other than a content smile. Barry’s shoulders sagged with his sigh of relief, and he barely waited for Bruce to give him a nod before he dashed from the room in a blink.

“Barry and Wally will take care of getting the supplies. We’ll test the types of resin with the blood samples we already have to make sure we use the correct one. But it shouldn’t take too long. Is it alright if we inform the rest of your family of what’s going on?” Bruce requested, not wanting Sam, Tucker and Danielle to be left out just because his own children were doing a good job keeping them occupied. Barbara had come over to meet them already, and she and Tim were indulging Tucker’s questions as well as getting some of their own answers. Then Stephanie and Cass had spent some time letting Danielle pick out some different clothes before they had joined Wally in the gym. Danielle had been ecstatic to find out about Wally’s abilities, and all four of them were having fun showing off and messing around together. Which left Sam talking with Duke, Damian, and Alfred about some of Duke’s adventures, Damian’s menagerie of pets, and Alfred’s recipes and food sources. The news would be an interruption to their fun, but Bruce had confidence that his team could help them stay occupied and taken care of instead of relying only on Jazz.

“...Sure,” Jazz agreed once more, giving another nod. They had already told her that they would have Danielle stop by the room to draw her blood, so having the three of them back in the room for a bit wasn’t a bad idea.

It didn’t take long at all for Barry and Wally to return with the equipment, getting it set up in record speed next to the bed before Barry joined Bruce back in the lab to test the different resins. They were simple tests that could all be done at the same time, so they were back upstairs soon after Leslie had finished drawing Danielle’s blood.

“Here’s the lucky winner,” Barry chimed, holding a second canister of the resin that they had found cleared the blood blossom toxin from Danny’s blood while having minimal effect on the important parts that needed to stay.

“Woah… I was expecting something bigger,” Sam admitted, watching Barry from where she was hovering near Danielle.

Barry just chuckled as he headed to the machine and popped the canister in. “It doesn’t need to be that big. We’re only pulling a tiny amount of toxin from him and putting the rest back after all.”

“Fair enough,” Sam accepted, attention shifting slightly as Danielle flexed her arm and moved around to make sure she wasn’t dizzy or anything.

“And you’re sure it’s going to work?” Tucker asked, his nervous nature prompting him to reach for reassurance despite the procedure not being used on him.

“It’s not as common as dialysis, but it’s still something that’s been used thousands of times on thousands of different people. I’m sure it’ll get most, if not all of the toxin,” Barry assured, stepping out of the way so Leslie could proceed to get Danny connected to the device. Unfortunately the IV needle that had been used was too small, so Leslie couldn’t use it for one of the tubes, even if it had been in the right place. So it was simply pinched closed, and disconnected to use again later while the other two tubes were inserted.

The others continued to chatter lightly, but Jazz was more focused on what Leslie was doing. How she was prepping Danny’s arm, where she put the tubes, trying to guess what she was looking for. She didn’t think this would be the last time Danny, or Danielle got poisoned, so she felt she should learn as much as she could while she could. It also helped her feel like she was being useful. Adding to her skillset to maybe use later instead of just sitting and being worried. It certainly helped even though once Leslie finally started the machine nothing seemed to be happening. It was a good thing though. No immediate adverse reactions, no sudden drop in vitals. Nothing but the quiet hum of the machine added to the soft beeps of the heart monitor and puffs from the oxygen tank.

Within an hour the others had gotten bored enough to easily be lured away by the rest of Bruce’s family once again.

Thirty minutes after and Jazz was the only one left, having moved to sit on the floor at the side of the bed. She wanted to be close to Danny, but she felt in the way if she sat on the bed. There were too many tubes now. Before he could have been mistaken for just sleeping. But now he really was looking like a coma patient. It made it hard to watch him, even though she refused to leave.

A short time later Jason was knocking on the doorframe to announce his presence, causing Jazz to look up.

“...Hey,” she greeted, a little confused.

“Hey,” Jason returned, “Just checking in. You need anything?” A half lie. He’d actually volunteered to hang out for a while to make sure the hemoperfusion process was going well. Luckily it looked like Danny’s vitals hadn’t changed much from two hours ago.

Jazz blinked in mild surprise at the offer, but even after thinking for a moment she couldn’t come up with anything. Part of her knew there were probably a multitude of things that she should be at least curious about, but mostly she just felt tired. The near quiet of the room while she knew everyone was okay and having fun was nice. She was content to just relax as well as she could for now. “No, I’m good,” she responded.

Jason didn’t quite believe her, his brow raising. “Says the girl sitting on the floor wearing random spare clothes borrowed from someone else, and doing nothing but stare at the other side of the room,” he commented dryly with a half smirk, stepping into the room and taking a seat on the floor near Jazz.

The comment caught Jazz off guard, but she could only give a small giggle. She probably did look at least a little unwell huh. “...I guess I just haven’t fully realized I’m safe yet,” she admitted. “It’s hard to think about anything.”

“Fair enough,” Jason accepted, being able to understand the feeling. “...Do you mind if I ask you something then?”

Another mild surprise, but Jazz just nodded after a moment. “Sure.”

“You mentioned before…” Jason started, thinking back to something Jazz had said before lunch, “that your parents tried to hurt Danny before they knew….” The reminder was potentially a very unhappy topic, but it was prodding he felt was necessary. Were they safe at home? Were they runaways? Were their parents involved with the ones that had hurt Danny recently? They needed to know if it was a good idea to try and get these kids back to their family or not. And if he was going to keep Jazz company and monitor the hemoperfusion process he didn’t feel like spending the time in silence.

“....Yeah… Our parents used to be ghost hunters,” Jazz admitted, a sorrowful smile as she stared at her hands. It seemed she was in the mood to talk, for she continued unprompted. “We grew up with their crazy antics. Making machines that could track down and destroy ghosts. Always talking about dissecting them, or using them as a power source. They had so many studies supporting the idea that ghosts were just residual emotions from people, given human form, but not actually human. So many things that convinced others that ghosts weren’t people anymore.”

“And yet… all it took was them finding out that Danny was half ghost, half dead, and it made them rethink everything they had developed. He was fourteen when… And I didn’t find out until a few months later. I didn’t even tell him I knew, because I knew if I did he would get scared. Why wouldn’t he, after all? With the idea that his mom and dad might cut into him just to satiate their curiosity looming over his head. It was an accident that they found out, and I was so scared he was going to run away. But mom just tried her best to treat him like Danny, and nothing else. Dropped her gun and told us we should go home and get a snack, because we were probably hungry. It…. it was enough to keep him home, but it wasn’t enough for everything to be okay. It was like everyone was trying to pretend everything was normal, but we all knew it wasn’t. They stopped doing their experiments. Started pretending they were oblivious to anything related to ghosts. It was awful. I felt so… so useless.”

“It was months of this stupid, awkward fake normal family facade before it finally broke. Danny accidentally got burned when mom was cooking, and she had a breakdown. We found out that our dad was okay with everything, but mom was having a hard time because she couldn’t believe that she had hurt Danny before. Even if she didn’t know it was him. But, after she had a really long talk with my brother, things started to look more normal again. Only this time, instead of being ghost hunters my parents dove headfirst into trying to figure out how to help ghosts. We realized we couldn’t take Danny to the doctors anymore, so my parents and I tried to make sure we could fill in that role. Mom would try all sorts of new, ectoplasm rich meals for him, making sure they tasted good to him. She started making smoothies for him every morning once she found ones he liked. On top of helping him study for school every day when there weren’t other ghosts causing trouble. There’s so many nights I found them asleep together on the couch. Danny was always mom’s favorite, and I think dad got jealous about how close they got. Until Danielle came back from her world exploration adventures and Danny convinced her to officially meet my parents. Then Dad and Danielle latched onto each other so quickly, and became inseparable.”

The retelling had seemed a little painful at first, but it was easy to see that Jazz was at least content with the way her family life was now. It wasn’t perfect, but then again families never were. Jason couldn’t help notice the tone of voice she took when talking about her parents favoring her siblings. She didn’t seem too upset, but there definitely wasn’t complete indifference to the facts. “...Does it make you upset? Having your siblings be your parents’ favorites?” he couldn’t help asking.

Jazz could only snicker at the question, falling quiet for a beat before answering. “Sometimes,” she admitted, then looked over with a mildly mischievous grin that made Jason semi think of Danielle. “But then I remember I’m Danny’s favorite, and I’m usually okay.”

The proud declaration made Jason snicker, glad to hear she had at least one thing keeping her from devolving into jealousy. She didn’t seem to want to talk much more though, and Jason wanted to leave the conversation on a happier note and therefore didn’t ask about the ‘Guys in White’ Danielle had mentioned before. So instead, after another stretch of quiet, he just chose to reassure her. “... He’ll be okay.”

Jazz didn’t answer immediately, drawing in a sigh and letting it go. She seemed to be doing much better as the day had stretched on, handling the news that Danny had poison throughout his bloodstream much better than the suggestion of drawing his blood. And being reassured that he would be okay, she gained a smile. “... He better be,” she commented, gaining a glint in her eye that Jason had seen in others he knew. “Otherwise the government back home will have to deal with a new super villain family.”

The comment only caught Jason slightly off guard, eyes widening just for a moment as he looked at Jazz before bursting into a hearty laugh. “Fair enough,” he agreed. The son of a family getting killed by the government was a legit enough back story for super villains in his opinion.

_______________________

lil bit of home situation dump and hopefully the last bit of the part that was giving me trouble. Nice to get to draw Jason without the suit XD though I almost forgot to draw the bandage on his fingers.

_______________________

Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @megacharizardx99

@bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai,

@fanaroff, @raven1508, @nebulainajar, @serasvictoria02, @oliocelottafanfics,

@honeysuckletook, @omniithe-deer, @wolf-under-the-stars, @gingernutcalo, @that-random-fangirl,

@op-sys-chaos, @kirasigncomics, @ehobep

#my art #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #phantom rogues #long post #fanfic #writing #tw blood #in tubes but just in case #tw medical #tw iv #tw injury

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sxcretricciardo · 3 months

Text

when music meets speed pt.1

—> in which the reader is a singer and a big fan of Daniel Ricciardo and stalks him into getting to do a music video with her

•

danielricciardo enjoying the last days of summer break, excited to be behind the wheel in a few days 🏎️

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username1 GOD IM-

username2 let’s go DANNY 🤩

visacashapprb ready to get some points 👊

↳ danielricciardo let’s go!

yourusername day 95 of commenting until you say yes to record a music video with me

↳ visacashapprb would love to help, dm us 🤩

↳ username3 we love one admin

↳ username4 YASSS GO Y/N

↳ username5 can’t wait, I REALY HOPE THIS HAPPENS

yourusername posted a story

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visacashapprb all smiles and giggles between this weekend’s guest yourusername and our driver danielricciardo ☺️

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username1 IS THE VIDEO COMING OR WHAT

username2 DID HE ACCEPT???? don’t leave us hanging GIRL

username3 i feel like the video is coming, I can feel the chemistry between them already

username4 Danny ric in a music video?? I HOPE SO

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yourusername 1. had such a blast at the visacashapprb garage this weekend 2. look at my paddock pass picture, I look like a happy kid 3. did I hug THE Daniel Ricciardo??? Still not believing it 😭

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visacashapprb we hope you got what you wanted girl 😉

↳ yourusername you know it, thanks admin 🫶🏻

↳ username1 GIRL IS THIS A CONFIRMATION??? WHEN IS IT DROPPING

username2 OMG they look so cuteee

username3 the third picture, I SHIP IT ALREADY

danielricciardo 😄

↳ username4 HIM COMMENTING

↳ username5 don’t be shy Danny, tell us more

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ynlnfans guys a girl just messaged us with this picture saying that she was at the private concert of Y/N tonight in New York and Daniel Ricciardo was there and he waved at her and she waved him back and this was taken right in that moment LOOK HOW CUTE AHHHH

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username1 are they a couple? Because they should

username2 she’s a cutie look at her she’s so happy 😭

username3 haven’t seen her smile so much since the whole scandal with her ex, she deserves so much happiness 💕

username4 PARENTS

username5 ugh they haven’t announced anything yet BUT THEY SHOULD

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danielricciardo this cowboy is a guitar player 🤠

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username1 if this is him soft launching a collab with Y/N I’m all here for it

username2 YASS

visacashapprb DR3 is in his musical era

username3 sing for us Danny 😔

↳ yourusername I’ve been tying to convince him to sing too, let’s see 🙂‍↕️

username4 with Charles on the piano and Danny on the guitar, the band is ON BABY

•

Part 2 coming soon 💕

#max verstappen #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #charles leclerc #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando norris #carlos sainz #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 2024 #f1

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signedkoko · 8 months

Note

You are such a sweetie! Since your requests are open, if you feel inspired and motivated by this (otherwise you can 100% ignore it, writing is hard - I know), could I request a one-shot for Vox who falls in love with a imp!reader? Would love to see how you write their "forbidden" love, how would Vox feel and what if the other Vee's found out about it. It doesn't have to be a story, you can do it in headcannon format if you feel like it suits better! Just try to have fun ♡ -Nia

Intern [Romantic]

In which the techy overlord falls for one of his new hellborn employees, much to his dismay. Reader is genderneutral.

Song - Break My Heart by Dua Lipa

Any hellborn would die for the opportunity that graced you. Well, graced was not the right word; you fought for months against many candidates, beefed up your resume, and pulled some strings to get an unpaid internship for the Vee's. More specifically, a three-month internship at VoxTek with the potential to be hired in immediately after.

It was a position people could only dream of, especially hellborn. Sinner-based companies had a tendency to place sinners above hellborns, but you knew that and used it to your advantage. You couldn't go in as equal; you had to know you were less and make up for it.

The job itself wasn't all that bad, either. It was a lot of unpaid hours, from the crack of dawn to the dip of the sun or later, but it mostly involved the small details. Coffee, sorting, and delivering mail between sections were hard to mess up.

There was the rare extra task where someone messed up and they needed someone to cover quickly.

Today was one of those days. You were at the right place at the right time, sitting by the coffee machine, grabbing yourself your first cup of the day.

That was when he entered, his shoes tapping on the floor with confident clicks, and when he spoke it commanded attention.

Mostly because he spoke through every speaker in the building at once.

"Who here can follow me? No questions asked."

Before anyone could chime in, his monitor did a full rotation of the room, his eyes narrowing when they landed on you.

Your ear piece buzzed to life.

"You, follow me. Now." The overlord spoke directly into your ear using the device, and knowing this may be an opportunity of a lifetime, you followed.

There was no question about who it was: a monitor for a head, control of all technology, and a towering seven feet tall. Vox was the top of the top, and it was hard to believe you were allowed to so much as stand next to him.

It was hard to keep up with his speed-walking pace, but he eventually led you into the mail elevator, hitting the twelfth floor while he muttered something about incompetence amongst hires and how he always had to take control of every production if he wanted it done right.

With a ding and the slow release of the elevator doors, he took the lead once more, though this time he was walking slower and backwards, navigating with ease despite looking directly at you.

"Alrighty intern, ready for your shot at becoming something more? Because our previous voiceover person just walked out on us, and now you'll be covering for them." He stopped with his back against a door, grabbing the handle and awaiting your reply.

"But I only just spoke to..."

"You're cute, you know that? How many videos do you think are out there with your voice? I listened to them all the moment I saw you." Vox only smiled wider when his words sunk in; he saw the usual flash of embarrassment as you pondered what he might have seen. Without waiting any longer, he pushed the door open, spinning so he was finally walking normally.

It was a recording studio, and there were several other employees waiting, mostly those handling the recording equipment and some holding papers.

Vox sat himself in a comfortable rolling chair in front of the glass window that overlooked the recording studio, spinning to hand you some papers that he took from a demon next to him.

"Here is your script; all you have to do is read. Make it sound exciting! Something new, something beyond anyone's imagination, is now available to the public!" He put on a voice as he continued, demonstrating what he hoped you could manage. Someone ushered you into the booth and plopped some headphones over your ears.

"From the top! 3...2..."

The whole process was a thrill, but you managed to run over the script in three separate recordings, of which Vox cited them all as 'stunning' or 'absolutely perfect!', though the producer claimed to need multiple for any potential recording malfunctions.

For an overlord, he had been oddly kind and encouraging throughout the process, and he walked you out himself when everything wrapped up.

Vox continued to speak about what the script was for and how excited he was for the launch, all while leading you through parts of the building you had never been to before. You thought after that he would have sent you back down and forgotten everything, but eventually you found yourself in front of your supervisor.

"Vox! Sir- oh no, had our intern upset you?"

"No, no, not at all. Sorry, what was your name again? Ally? Yeah, listen, Ally, I need you to handle the paperwork they were assigned. Oh! And I want them promoted to my personal studio for tomorrow, too."

Before you or the sinner could ask questions, Vox was already out of there, chipper as ever.

That evening, you went home with an upgraded badge and access card, along with details on your new position and expectations. It was a lot to get through, but you felt extremely proud of yourself for doing so well. Hell, you met THE Vox, and he wanted you to be the voice of VoxTek?

While flipping through the pile of information, the most surprising aspect was the six-figure salary you were about to get started on.

. . .

Surrounded by monitors, Vox watched various camera feeds as they traced your steps home. Vox saw you smile from several angles, the electricity between his antennae flickering. Each monitor had some kind of file or piece of information on you, and he was only pulled out of his trance when he got a call from Velvette.

"Hello there, Velvette! What can I help you with today?" Leaning back in his chair, the overlord flicked his wrist, which shot the call from his monitor onto one of the many others displaying you.

"I need your guys for a sh- wait. Vox, what the fuck is all of that?" While the fashionista originally had her eyes elsewhere, her gaze quickly fixed on his background, which was quickly followed by all the screens going blank with his logo.

"That? Oh, oh no, its nothing at a-"

"That's the imp you were talking about last week! The one you were trying to get to apply to VoxTek!"

"Well, maybe, but-"

Once again, she cut him off with a gurgling groan.

"Listen, I don't care who or what you fuck; just get your camera crew here and we'll talk about this later. Kay? Kisses!" Before she abruptly hung up on him, he could have sworn he heard a small 'at least they're hot' before the call disconnected.

Tensed from the interaction, Vox could only groan and dramatically fall back into his chair, tapping his claws along the armrest.

So what if he scouted you out? You didn't know that, and you were happy about it anyway! One by one, each monitor opened back up on your data, the overlord grinning.

It was better this way; everyone would think it was the intern going after him, so nobody knew one of the top overlords in hell was dotting on some helpless imp.

Author's Note - I love Vox so much...hes so obsessive but he denies every accusation (its the same w Alastor lmao) like its going to hurt him! But thank you so much for the request Nia, I hope this interests you 🖤

Word Count - 1,219

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #vox #vox x reader

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fangirl-dot-com · 8 months

Text

Chapter 18 - All For You

Guys, I fear this one may be worse than the last angsty one I wrote. Am I getting better or worse? – I have no clue…I’m just in a super angsty mood rn

Also, I know that it “Born to Break Records” I said that Max didn’t know about reader’s godfather passing. What I meant to say was that he didn’t know at the time when he gave reader the trophy after she won her debut f2 race. But, because reader has a special helmet for Imola since Lorenzo was Italian, she’d have to tell him about the helmet.

TW: EMOTIONAL ABUSE, HARSH LANGUAGE, SHITTY PARENTS, AND PHYSICAL ABUSE

I am prepared for the therapy bills…

How does someone write “and they swapped spit” in a romantic way?? Asking for a friend

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

It couldn’t be them.

You blinked and stared in the direction that you had been previously looking. Your eyes narrowed as you gazed at the small crack of the garage and where the gate was. You quickly placed your special helmet down on a table and dodged mechanics as you stepped out. Mitch barely glanced at your leaving as you often went to visit other drivers before the race if you had time. And today, the parade was a bit earlier, so most of the drivers used this time to destress a bit more than usual.

As you got closer, two familiar people stood out to you. Right now, they were arguing with one of the Red Bull security guards. Your face grimaced as you could hear the shouting multiple feet away.

As you got closer, your blood ran colder. You knew it was a bad idea to come out here, but it was like a moth to a flame or even a lamb to a slaughter. You couldn’t stop your feet until you were just a few steps away.

“Mom? Dad?”

The group of three’s heads swerved toward yours. The security guard, who you recognized to be Frederik, looked at you with a questioning face. The other two looked relieved but also angry at you.

Your father rolled his eyes and pointed toward you before yelling at Fred. “See, I told you that we were her parents, now let us in,” he demanded.

Your heart dropped a bit at the statement. You were never one to stand up to your father, especially when he was already angry.

Your hear barely nodded, almost as if you were trying to even convince yourself that you were fine with them invading your life.

Fred looked over with concern.

“It’s ok Fred.”

“Are you sure kid?”

Your mother huffed. “She said it was fine. Now let us through.”

Fred sure took his sweet time to unlock the gate, something that you could find some thankfulness for.

Your mother came close to you first and wrapped you in an awkward hug: one that you did not return as it was too quick to reciprocate. Your father just stood there, with the same disappointing stare he always had.

You put your hands to the side. “What are you two doing here? Last I knew is that you wanted nothing to do with me.”

Your father rolled his eyes and your mother let out a squawk. “Is that what you’ve been telling your friends? Goodness gracious child, going around speaking lies.”

You winced at her demeaning tone.

Your father spoke next. “You make it into Formula 1 and forget everything that we did for you? How fucking pathetic.” He all but spit out the last word.

“Kid!”

Your head whipped around at lightning speed. Mitch was waving at you from the garage, a curious look on your face.

You tried to give her a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your face. “Coming!” You turned toward your parents. “You can follow me, but please do not touch anything and just stand in the corner.”

That earned another round of scoffs and groans.

“Someone has gotten bratty I see,” you mother seethed.

You paid no attention and walked back to the garage. You only knew that they followed you because you had memorized their footprints long ago when you were too scared to even get out of your room on multiple occasions. There was a difference between their normal strides, angry strides, and sneaky strides that they used when they tried to “catch” you doing something you shouldn’t have been doing – like getting an extra snack because they “forgot” to make you dinner.

You had hoped that Max, Christian, Vito, or even Mitch would be right there when you walked in, but the universe definitely hated you today. The said four were standing in a little circle, probably going over some last minute data. You had stopped in the entrance and watched them, scared that they would ask questions.

While you were watching, a rough shove was directed toward your back, sending you to the floor and making a noise. Your knees were definitely bruised now and your hands were scraped on the concrete. Max, Christian, Mitch, and Vito all turned toward the noise. You had just gotten back up and continued walking, parents behind you.

Some of the engineers had watched your father push you and were starting to question as to who he thought he was, pushing you around like that.

“Oops, didn’t see you there,” your father said.

Vito’s back straightened in defense when his eyes looked at your parents. You shot him a sorry look as he made eye contact with you.

“Ah there you are kid. We were just going over some last minute notes. Who might this be?” Christian asked, walking toward you. Right now, he was thinking that they might be some older couple that you might have known from your childhood.

Boy, was he wrong.

Your eyes glanced back at your parents and sent Christian a look, trying to communicate to him that you really didn’t want these two in the garage.

“Uh, Christian, these are my parents.” Your hands lightly raised in the air, as if to show them off.

Christian’s eyes darkened as he looked at the couple. Max behind him was mentally killing them both. Mitch was just wondering about how she could get you out of this uncomfortable situation.

“Y/n didn’t tell me that we’d be having personal guests today,” Christian said, folding his arms in a defensive pose.

You prayed that your father wouldn’t roll his eyes at your boss.

Your father only stared at the slightly taller Brit before looking at you, annoyance evident on his face. Your mother, once again, scoffed.

“Wow,” your mother let off a very fake giggle, “our own daughter didn’t tell you that we were coming? Shows you how much appreciation kids have these days.” Another fake laugh followed.

Max winced at the sight of your crest-fallen face. You looked absolutely miserable.

“Hmmm, doesn’t sound like our kid.” Christian tried to back you up.

Your mother had walked over to where you special Imola helmet was laying. She picked it up and twirled it around.

It was a beautiful piece of work. The colors of the Italian flag blended beautifully. On the side you had Lorenzo’s crest with his birthdate and death-date underneath as a tribute to him. You watched as her lip curled in disgust. But, you also saw as one of the mechanics came up and took it directly from her, telling her that no one but you or authorized personelle should be touching it.

Christian spoke up again, “Well, we are very busy right now and I need to speak to my drivers.”

But before Christian could get you away, Max stepped forward, a false smile on his lips and a hand stretched out.

“Max Verstappen, three time World Champion.’

You knew this shpeel very well. Max only said the whole title when he was over someone’s bullshit, or he knew that they were just using him for his fame.

Your father had some type of dumbstruck look as he took Max’s hand. The fuming Dutchman used this opportunity to tightly squeeze his hand, tighter than a normal handshake should have been. It made him happy to see your father wince at the grip.

Your father’s hand then came and rested on your shoulder. You tensed as his grip got much harder and harder, probably leaving yet another bruise. “My daughter has a lot to accomplish if you’re her teammate. Good thing she doesn’t have the talent to outshine you.”

You hated it when your father belittled you. He had done this multiple times in front of old friends. He was a manipulator and a narcissist. Your breath, that had been a bunch of harsh inhales and exhales, started to hitch. Clear signs of a panic attack were just around the corner. And your team could tell that you were about to possibly have a meltdown if you didn’t get out now.

Mitch finally spoke up. “We have a race in just under 30 minutes and I need to privately go over something with my drivers. Max and Y/n, please follow me. Christian, I need you as well and Vito you know what to do, we’ll be in the main driver’s room (Max’s driver room).”

Your manager gave your parents one last glare before rushing out of the Red Bull garage.

Mitch was totally bullshitting them because it was actually closer to 45 full minutes rather than less than 30.

Max held your shoulders, much lighter than your father had. He noticed your breathing had started to pick up. He sent a worried glance at the Team Principal who was currently clearing the way.

To you, it felt like your head was underwater. Everything was blurry as you looked at the world through tears, and your head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton. Your skin felt tingly and it pricked where Max’s hands were now gently holding your elbows as he guided you to the room. You could barely hear them trying to get you to calm down.

Once in the room, you had sunk to the floor and wrapped your arms around yourself, as a means of protection. Hands waved in front of your face, trying to get your attention as you stared numbly forward. Each wave shook a flinch out of your body.

A sudden inhale brought on ugly sobs as you tried to breath out apologies for things you didn’t know.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. Please, please don’t hurt…me.”

Your speech was broken, along with the hearts of Max, Mitch, and Christian who watched their strong girl break down because of someone who should have loved you. Quick knocks on the door alerted the room of someone else.

You suddenly froze, not breathing, as you were thinking that your parents were about to invade yet another safe space. Yet, your vision was filled with red and familiar cologne.

Your body acted on autopilot as your arms wrapped around the familiar figure of your boyfriend.

His voice was still fuzzy as he started to rock you back and forth.

Arthur looked around at the pained faces of your teammate, race engineer, manager, and team principal as they all looked down at you.

Christian kneeled down next to the younger Monegasque. “Is there anything we can do?”

He thought for a moment. You were curled sideways in his lap. Your legs were scrunched in fetal position, arms wrapped around his bicep as you clung to him. Your head rested against his chest with your eyes still closed.

“Her blood sugar gets low after an attack, can someone find some juice?” Vito and Christian all but bolted out the door.

“Mitch can you turn off the light? And Max, please rub her back. I’d do it, but her arms are wrapped around mine.”

The lights suddenly dimmed behind your eyelids and a hand gently touched your bad, trying to see if you’d flinch. When your back didn’t tense, Max continued to apply gentle pressure and his hand moved in small circles.

A big sigh escaped your lips as you came down from your sobs. Your lungs burned with each ragged breath, but they were thankful for new oxygen.

Your eyes remained closed as you took a minute to get your bearings in order. You tried to count down in your head starting from 100, which normally helped you calm down faster. You finally cracked your eyes open and sat up a bit straighter. The hand that was soothing on your back lifted away. A whine almost escaped your lips, but you reeled it in.

Arthur took notice of your open eyes and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “How are you doing? You were out of it for a while. Much longer than usual.”

You hummed. “I’m ok. A bit…”

“Thirsty?” The voice of your manager sounded as he walked in with multiple juice boxes in his arms, Christian behind him with even more juice boxes, and a certain Monegasque driver carried a variety of snacks in his arms.

Your eyes widened with excitement as your hand reached up to grab an apple juice from Vito. Arthur quickly took it from you and pressed the straw in and held it to your lips.

“Small sips,” he reminded you. You wanted to roll your eyes, but you knew he was right.

After a couple of sips, you asked, “How long was it this time.”

Your legs finally stretched out from their crunched position.

“Almost twenty minutes,” Mitch told you, handing you an icepack to put on your head. She guessed that you may be prone to migraines after panic attacks and got you one just in case. Mitch was glad to see you take it and put it on your head immediately.

The room was silent for a moment, before Max spoke.

“Kid, what were they doing here?”

You sighed. “I thought I saw them and I went to go check it out. Turns out it was them, and I really can’t speak up against my dad when he’s angry.”

Arthur concluded, “So he bullied you into getting what he wanted?”

You winced at the word, but nodded just the same.

Christian spoke up. “I couldn’t get them kicked out of the grand prix since they had tickets, but they aren’t going to be in the garage. Do you feel all right to race today?”

“You don’t have to kid if you aren’t feeling well,” Mitch also added on.

You shook your head. “No, I want to race.”

The room knew what this weekend meant for you. When you had happily shown them your new helmet, their eyes had welled with tears as you talked about the man who loved you more than life itself.

Max, who hadn’t known until Wednesday, had given you the biggest hug when it was a good moment. You didn’t know who was comforting who at that moment, but the hug would go down in your list of top 5 hugs ever.

Arthur sensed that you wanted to stand by the way you were wiggling. He slowly helped you to his feet as he pressed another juice box into your hands. Charles quickly opened a bag of Cheetos as you stared at the orange bag.

“I ran to Logan,” he simply stated. He knew that the American was the one who always had your favorite snacks on hand. One, because it was a big American brand, and two, the blond had a soft spot for you and always kept them stocked.

You took the orange twist and happily munched on the snack. The digital clock on Max’s desk showed that there was about 10 minutes left until you needed to get into the car. You quickly finished the small bag and chugged the rest of the juice.

Christian had to step out and start heading to the pit wall. Mitch followed the older Brit so that she could get to her spot inside the garage. Max and Charles left because Max needed to go over some things with GP, while Charles had to run back to Ferrari to get into his own car.

Vito stayed behind to check on you for just a few more moments. He knew first-hand how scared your dad and mom made you feel.

Then it was just you and Arthur for a couple of minutes. Your forehead pressed against his.

“Thank you, for coming to help.”

Arthur chuckled. “You really need to stop scaring me. No flipping today, ok?”

You nodded before he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips this time. He tried his best not to smile into the kiss, but he couldn’t help it.

You gently punched his chest. “Thur, you do that every single time.”

Arthur brought you back closer. “It’s just because you make me so happy chéri.”

You gave him another peck, before you led him out of the room. He helped you put your helmet on, and did his ritual “forehead kiss” to the top of it. With your handshake also done, you climbed into your car. The mechanics who had seen you with your parents made sure that you were all right. They were met with a bright smile and a thumbs up from you.

For this race, you qualified rather high. Max had pouted because today had been a Ferrari front-row lock out. You had to remind him that he had beaten Charles before from starting father back. It seemed to pacify the Dutchman.

Starting Grid

Charles Leclerc

Carlos Sainz

Max Verstappen

Lando Norris

Y/n L/n

George Russell

Lewis Hamilton

Daniel Ricciardo

Logan Sargeant

Alex Albon

Oscar Piastri

Lance Stroll

Fernando Alonso

Yuki Tsunoda

Nico Hulkenberg

Pierre Gasly

Esteban Ocon

Valtteri Bottas

Zhou Guanyu

Kevin Magnussen

To say this would be one of your worst races (and you'd DNF-ed before), would be an understatement. Your migraine had come back and your water was completely out by the last quarter of the race. You hadn’t been able to keep Charles off for long for Max to catch up, which made Charles take the lead in the second half.

Max had also been confused as you had dropped behind him as well when you should have been your strongest.

You loved racing, but today you hated it. Your brain felt as though it was pounding with a sledge hammer against your skull.

“For the first time in almost two years, Charles Leclerc has grabbed a victory. Charles Leclerc is the winner of the 2024 Imola Grand Prix. Max Verstappen clinches second with his rookie teammate Y/n L/n right behind him to make it a 2-3 for Red Bull. They are followed by Lando Norris and Lewis Hamilton…”

Race Results

Charles Leclerc – 25 points

Max Verstappen – 18 points

Y/n L/n – 15 points

Lando Norris – 12 points

Lewis Hamilton – 11 points

Oscar Piastri – 8 points

Alex Albon – 6 points

George Russell – 4 points

Logan Sargeant – 2 points

Carlos Sainz – 1 point

Fernando Alonso

Yuki Tsunoda

Pierre Gasly

Kevin Magnussen

Nico Hulkenberg

Zhou Guanyu

Valtteri Bottas

Esteban Ocon

Lance Stroll

Daniel Ricciardo

Standings After Imola

Max Verstappen – 168 points

Charles Leclerc – 120 points

Y/n L/n – 80 points

Lando Norris – 73 points

Lewis Hamilton – 60 points

Oscar Piastri – 53 points

George Russell – 35 points

Carlos Sainz – 34 points

Alex Albon – 26 points

Fernando Alonso – 23 points

Daniel Ricciardo – 21 points

Logan Sargeant – 19 points

Lance Stroll

Pierre Galsy

Yuki Tsunoda

Zhou Guanyu

Kevin Magnussen

Nico Hulkenberg

Valtteri Bottas

Esteban Ocon

Constructors Standings

Red Bull – 248 points

Ferrari – 153 points

McLaren – 126 points

Mercedes – 95 points

Williams – 45 points

Aston Martin – 23 points

Racing Bulls – 21 points

Alpha Romeo

Haas

Alpine

When you pulled into Parc Ferme, you barely had the strength to get out of the car. You only found out that you needed to get out was when Max lightly tapped your helmet and held out a hand. You gratefully grabbed it and Max hauled you out.

“Are you ok?” he asked, with concern storming in his blue eyes. A nod of your head pacified him for now.

Your headache only got worse when you spotted your parents standing at the wall. You tried to send the team apologetic looks when you walked right past them, something you never did even if you didn’t even podium for a race. You always ran to their open arms.

You’d send them lots of coffee and gifts for their families to make up for it.

You kept your helmet on for as long as you could. It helped to damper all the loud noise of the paddock.

Max and Charles both recognized that you wanted little to no noise if possible, so they kept quiet or spoke in soft whispers if they did speak. You immediately sat down in a corner, trying to cool off and will your migraine away.

You only opened your eyes once again when you were called to the podium. You were thankful that you didn’t feel any panic as you walked out and stood on the lowest step. You watched as Max walked out and stood on the second place step before watching Charles almost skip to the top step. You giggled as you watched the Ferrari driver subtly stick his tongue out at Max. For a moment, you were scared at the repercussions but Max only smiled and rolled his eyes.

You took off your cap for the Monegasque anthem along with the Italian one. When you were handed your trophy, you gently kissed it (even though it didn’t light up) and held it to the sky while also pointing. The two older drivers watched as you looked so happy. Deep down, they wanted you to be on the top step, but your time was coming.

Max was then handed his trophy. His lips were a bit tight, but he’d get over it.

Charles was quite the opposite. You guessed that he was finally happy that his dry spell was over. A sixth career win and first in almost two years. You clapped as the red-clad driver held his trophy proudly.

Your head was still pounding, but the migraine was slowly going away. You didn’t have much strength to do your usual champagne cannon, but you still sprayed Charles as much as you could. When there wasn’t anything else to spray, you poured the rest on your teammate.

You had a giant smile on your face as you looked down at the crowd. Yet, it slowly disappeared as your eyes found your parents, looking up at you with distain clearly written on their faces. You turned to Max, who was already looking down as well.

He pointed down, though, right next to them where Christian and Geri were both standing, proud smiles on their faces as they looked up at you.

Geri was trying to communicate for you and Max to stand closer and to smile for her camera. You quickly put your hand around his waist to bring him in closer. With trophies raised and bright smiles, she held a thumbs up when she took the picture. Christian just continued to look at the two of you as though you had just won him every single race possible.

You were then assured off the podium and back to the garage.

“I promise, I’ll find you after. You know how much I hate wearing my clothes after they get sticky,” you told Max as you walked toward your drivers room.

You had barely just gotten you shirt on when your door opened and closed.

Your rolled your eyes. “You couldn’t have just waited?”

You turned, expecting either Max or your boyfriend. Yet, you were met with a slap across the face. Your cheek stung as you shakily raised a hand to touch it. A hiss left your lips when your fingers glazed your reddening cheek.

You barely had time to get try to get away, before another hand hit the side of your head, making your migraine slowly creep up again.

This time, a sob slipped through your lips as you looked at your parents, who were fuming.

“What did I do?” you tried to get out, voice cracking.

“After everything we did for you, you can only get a shitty third place?” your mother spit.

“Seriously, how fucking pathetic do you have to be. Offering up the trophy to someone who is dead?” your father questioned.

It was your turn to suddenly seethe. You pointed a finger at your dad. “He loved me. He taught me everything I know.” You knew you were pressing his buttons, and you were about to press the big red one that says Do Not Press. “He was the man that you’d never be.”

Another hit to the face had your head swinging. You knew that there would be a big bruise in the morning. But you were proud for finally standing up to him.

Your mother’s hand hit the other side of your face, sending you staggering back to your dad. You braced yourself for another hit, but it didn��t come. Your eyes opened and widened at the sight of your teammate with murder in his eyes.

Christian was behind him, on the phone, with your manager to the right, boyfriend and his brother on the left.

“You touch her one more time and you’re fucking dead,” Max spoke, scarily calm. Your father jerked to hit him, and that was game over.

Security came quickly after Max had some more colorful words and quite possibly a hit to his face so that your father’s matched yours.

Arthur had come to wrap his arms around you, as a protective barrier.

As you watched your mother and father be led out by cuffs, the news coming that they had been banned for life from any Formula 1 activity, and that Vito had now gotten you a restraining order (something he said that he should have done years ago just in case) – you knew that you had finally found the family that you had always wanted.

The family that you had always needed.

And you’d keep racing and winning, because 4 years ago, you made a promise.

To keep going and to keep fighting.

As you walked out of the garage, with a third place trophy and your helmet, you gently pressed your own kiss to the top of it.

“You’d be proud of me,” you whispered, “and it’s all for you. Because you were everything that I needed.”

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 Imola was an experience. Glad I could podium in my late godfather's country to make him proud. I wish he could have been standing there to watch me today, but I have three other men who are enough for me. To Christian, Max, and Vito - I love you three, thanks for always watching my back. Oh, and my boyfriend is pretty great too, he's just shy. Thank you for an amazing experience, I'll be back next year to win (Charlie move over)

tagged: christianhorner, maxverstappen1, and vito_official

liked by christianhorner, maxverstappen1, vito_official, and 94,294 others

y/n_nation I'm not sobbing, you're sobbing

kid_y/n geri and christian both smiling like proud parents killed me

maxverstappen1 why would you do this?

y/n.89 ?? charles_leclerc he's crying right now y/n.89 oh, sorry not sorry?? maxverstappen1 you will be

christianhorner I know I can't speak for him, but he'd be so proud of you kid

gerihalliwellhorner we love you sweetie! can't wait for the next family dinner! maxverstappen1 family dinner? sebastianvettel you didn't get the invite?? y/n.89 oh no christianhorner uhhhhhh charles_leclerc he's crying again

mad_max the way that in every picture, they're looking at y/n

y/n_updates aahhhh the boyfriend has been mentioned!!!

y/n.89 I can't believe we're going to the track that THEE lightning mcqueen drove on

arthur_leclerc you mean...the Monaco Grand Prix....where you live...my hometown...Charles's home race... liamlawson she said what she said - lightning mcqueen's race charles_leclerc I'm done y/n.89 LIGHTNING MCQUEEN RESPONDED TO ME???? LIAM LOOK AT THIS liamlawson I'M LOOKING charles_leclerc goodbye y/n.89 DON'T GO

f1 see you all in Monaco!

author can everyone forgive me now?

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