#and shes laughing and getting giddy over this
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archangeldyke-all · 3 days ago
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imagine isha doing that thing that mute kids sometimes do, where they suddenly say a word/sentence or two out loud n then go back to being completely mute for a few years. imagine you’re tucking her in like “ily isha, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite” and she goes “ok. goodnight. mac & cheese.” and you never hear her talk again
also i love your writing 🩷🩷
this is so fucking funny god
men and minors dni
jinx has always claimed that isha speaks to her on occasion. you and sevika are always skeptical. a lot of isha's squeaks can sound like words-- and jinx tends to hear voices that aren't really there more than most people.
it takes a year of living together before one of you catches it in person.
sevika runs into the kitchen so fast she almost knocks over a chair. "babe, babe!" she says with a giddy smile. you giggle.
"what?"
"isha-- she just talked!" sevika laughs. "she doesn't know i heard her-- she was puttin' her socks on and her toe popped out of a hole, and she went; 'awe fuck!'" sevika imitates.
you burst into laughter. "are you sure?! you didn't just mishear one of her little grunts?"
"babe, i know what i heard. i read about this, y'know. sometimes, mute kids just randomly talk. and jinx said she's heard it before! i guess... i guess she really liked those socks!" sevika cackles. "you shoulda heard her little voice cursin' baby, oh my god!" sevika can't stop laughing.
for a long time, you don't quite believe her story. you're sure your wife thought she heard your kid curse, but you aren't convinced that isha can talk at all.
until she talks to you.
almost two years after sevika claims she hears isha talk, you're tucking her into bed like any other night. isha's pointing out various poisonous frog species to you in her favorite 'dangerous animals' book, and you're playing with her hair, kissing her head occasionally.
"if i was a poision dart frog, i think i'd be pink and purple. what about you?"
isha taps her chin while she considers your question, then signs with a smile. blue and yellow! you laugh. of course she'd pick her favorite colors.
"nice. what do you think jinx and big mama would be?"
jinxie is blue and purple and big mama is green!
"you've got it all figured out, huh?"
isha nods with a yawn. you chuckle.
"alright-- i think it's bedtime. c'mon, get comfy." isha hands her book to you and crawls under her covers. when she settles, she scrunches her face just a bit and lets out a fart. you giggle. "got your dutch oven going, huh?" you ask. she laughs.
"do frogs fart?" isha asks.
you freeze, staring at isha as she blinks up at you with big eyes, waiting for an answer. "wh-- did you--"
do they? she signs.
you burst into laughter and pull isha into your arms. "i have no idea!" you laugh. "oh my god!" isha giggles in your arms, confused by your reaction but enjoying the barrage of kisses you're giving her regardless. "i love you so much you silly little girl."
isha gets sick of your cuddles, elbowing you and signing. look it up on your phone! she whines. you cackle.
"okay, okay!" you laugh as you pull out your phone to google isha's question.
sevika and jinx are never going to believe this.
or... maybe they will.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner
@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke
@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25
@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby
@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb
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just-some-random-blogger · 3 days ago
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YOU DIDNT TELL ME YOU HAD OTHER GEORGE FICS I FEEL LIKE I WAS BAITED INTO GETTING INTO ANOTHER WEASLEY FOR NO REASON (I say as if I needed to be baited 🙄🤪)
An enormous Christmas tree hung upside down from the ceiling, decorated in orange, purple, and gold, with handmade ornaments over every branch and popcorn strings strewn around it.
OH! LOVELY not you making me want to rewatch the films (I won't I'm not a fan of reconsumption idk idk idk)
He had a bright purple handkerchief in his hand, the triple W embroidered on the corner.
Willy Wonka aahhh entrance. My beautiful beautiful boy
You knew about the death of his twin, Fred, everyone did, and now he knew your pain as well.
😃 oh. We're doing the death. 😃 Oh 👍
George’s smile widened, a flush creeping up his neck. “Well, ah, that’s really—” he scratched the back of his head, clearly flustered by the revelation. “That’s very kind,” he managed with a breathy chuckle.
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“You’re my first priority today,”
Can I be your first priority everyday
At first, he seemed reluctant to talk about products with stories tied to Fred, like prodding a sore wound, but eventually he was telling story after story, grinning and laughing at the memories of their countless antics.
Wow I cannot express how absolutely unnecessary it was to kill Fred. Wow. This is supposed to be cute but 😃 I don't agreeeee 🙅‍♀️ NO MAAM
“Please, just—let me do this for your brother.” George’s eyes held yours, soft around the corners. “It’s what Fred would do.”
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MY SHAYLAAAAAAAAA
“Would you want to, uh, maybe get a drink later? Or coffee?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck, freckled cheeks flushing pink.
GASP. RIZZLER GEORGE. SEE 🫵 YOU'RE OUT HERE LAUGHING WHEN 🫵 YOU CONTRIBUTED TO THE CANON THAT IS RIZZLER!GEORGE
You hadn’t stopped thinking about George for a moment, so wound up that you started getting ready three hours early for a simple ice cream date. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so giddy, so hopeful.
She so me. Icon
“It was worse when we first reopened the shop.” His thumb swiped back and forth across yours, soothing the irritation itching under your skin. “They would come in just to get a look at me. Like my grief was some kind of spectator sport.”
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IM COMING GEORGIE! STAY BACK
(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง
George barked a laugh, his head falling back with the force of it, and you smiled. “Better, I suppose.”
... 🧍‍♀️ Miss ma'am what is the context of this I must have been hella cute ANYWAY IT IS I CAN SEE HIM LAUGHIN--- OH FUCK I REMEMBER NO IT IS HE TURNED WHATSHERFACE PURPLE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
You ordered your bowls of ice cream, Peppermint Marshmallow Mayhem for George and Gingerbread Dreams for you, and sat at a corner booth by the window, talking about nothing in particular for awhile while you ate.
Damn are those actual flavors in the series or did u just think of them. Slayed. Loathe to eat either tho HAHAAHA
“Good, I’m really glad to hear that. Now, let me try your ice cream.” He waggled his spoon and you laughed, sliding it towards him. He took the tiniest spoonful, flipping it over to lick it off, and your cheeks warmed at the way his tongue caressed the curve of the spoon.
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?????? HELLO????. #1 ☝️ idc if ur brother died in not sharing my ice cream (JK JK WE COULD SHARE DNA AND MAKE A BABY I LOVE YOU) #2 ✌️ *inhale* WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-
“Can you blame me? I’m sitting across from my dream woman,” he replied, grinning.
Case in point. Rizzler!George
Sugary peppermint and creamy marshmallow coated your tongue, and you moaned.
????? QUEEEE MAMACITA???? MOANED I mean sure but like??? IN FRONT OF GEORGE IS CRAZY (I understand you)
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I saw you watching the carolers,” he murmured, sliding his glove off and reaching out to cradle your face, his touch gentle, giving you every opportunity to pull away.
🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵RIZZLER!GEORGE WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT COME HERE GIMME KITH
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He loosed a pleased hum, leaning forward to capture your lips in another, slower kiss. “Like hearin’ you call me baby,” he mumbled against your mouth.
I'll give you a baby
But then he withdrew what appeared to be a toy airplane that would in no way, shape, or form fit in that pocket without magic. Your brothers face lit up when George threw it in the air and it started to fly, ducking and whizzing around the room.
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He pulled out a bouncing ball, then a rubber chicken, a set of chattering teeth, a stuffed teddy bear. Item after item came out of his pockets until your brothers bed was covered in toys and gag items, and a dozen nurses were watching in amazement from the hallway. You and your mom were fighting through silent tears, your heart so big you felt it might explode out of your chest.
I would NAWT be silently sobbing. I would be on the floor bawling
Most importantly, your brother was ecstatic, playing with this and that and chattering away at George about the different products and teaching him how to do magic tricks George himself had invented.
THEE George Weasely 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 lil bro will freak if they ever have a genetic collaboration (if he lives that long)
“I miss him,” George gasped like he was in pain, his grip almost bruising around your body.
🫵you🫵 meet me outside. Send your location. I just want to talk. Shhh shhhh don't fight it (fiGHT ME)
Id give you a 10/10 but you killed Fred so 0/10 I'm sorry I don't make the rules. Idc if this got me geeking. YOU KNOW WHAT ACTUALLY FINE YOU CAN HAVE 10/10 YOU MADE ME FEEL NOTHING. I FEEL NOTHING
A Christmas Gift | G.W.
“That's what happens when you love someone,” George replied, smiling. “You want to protect them from anything that might hurt them, even if you know you can't.”
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feat. George Weasley x fem!reader
SUMMARY: You go to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes to pick out a Christmas gift for your ailing little brother, who adored the shop (and the twins) before he became too ill to go. You find a gift and so much more than you ever dreamed of.
CW: this is really emotional, i’m sorry, but i pinky promise that it has a happyish ending. fred is dead, grief, hurt/comfort, hospital visits, sick sibling/children, some swearing, but also some fun and lightheartedness, plenty of christmasy fluff, first kisses
AN: last Christmas fic of the season!
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The early morning snow buffeted at your back as you stepped into Weasely Wizard Wheezes. The store had just opened, you saw someone turn the sign as you finished your breakfast at the Three Broomsticks, but you wanted to beat the holiday rush so you could really take your time.
The smell of cinnamon and woodsmoke, plastic toys and what could only be described as joy, welcomed you inside. An enormous Christmas tree hung upside down from the ceiling, decorated in orange, purple, and gold, with handmade ornaments over every branch and popcorn strings strewn around it. Every shelf was stocked and festively decorated, and soft Christmas music played from the speakers.
You stopped in the doorway, tears welling in your eyes. Your brother would love this. You had hoped that he’d be having a good day today, that maybe, by some miracle, he’d be well enough to come with you. But he’d spiked a fever late last night, and was going in for some imaging today to ensure he hadn’t caught pneumonia…again.
“Morning,” a voice called to you, and you looked up, hastily wiping tears on your sleeve. George Weasley, a man you’d never met but would recognize anywhere, was halfway down the spiral staircase, a cup of coffee in hand. He was dressed in the iconic pinstripe suit, his copper hair a little longer than the last time you’d seen him two years prior, not that he’d remember.
The only reason you remembered was because of your brothers obsession with the Weasley twins. He’d asked to have his hair cut and dyed orange that same afternoon.
More tears welled up, and you cursed yourself, turning away to hide your face. “I’m sorry,” you sniffled, trying to take a deep breath. “I promise I’m not insane.”
You heard him move the rest of the way down the stairs, then approach you, his tall frame taking him across the store in a few strides. He had a bright purple handkerchief in his hand, the triple W embroidered on the corner.
“That’s okay, we like a little insanity around here. What’s your name?” he asked, his voice soft.
“Y/n.” You accepted the handkerchief with a watery smile and dabbed your eyes.
“George. Are you alright, y/n?” he asked.
You sighed, twisting the fabric in your hands. “The holiday’s are just hard.”
He nodded, his jaw flexing, eyes averting from your face to the floor. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rougher than it had been a moment before. You noticed then the dark circles under his eyes, the air of heaviness around his shoulders. “Can I help you find something?” he asked, pivoting quickly.
“Yes, actually. I’m, uh, looking for a gift for my little brother. But he—it has to be something he can play with in bed. Nothing too loud or messy.” Your heart ached as you said it, knowing he would actually love something loud, messy, destructive, as little boys do, but such things weren’t allowed at St. Mungo’s.
George raised an eyebrow. “Strict parents?”
You shook your head, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “He’s in hospital,” you murmured, hating saying the words aloud.
George’s face fell. “Oh—Merlin, I’m really sorry.”
A flicker of understanding passed between you, your broken hearts beating at the same rhythm for a moment. You knew about the death of his twin, Fred, everyone did, and now he knew your pain as well. That knowledge weaved an invisible string of connection between you, forged in empathy.
“We can absolutely find something for him,” George said, his voice painfully sincere. He offered you his arm and you accepted, needing a bit of steadiness. “What kind of things does he like?”
You started to walk through the store, looking around the towering shelves, at a bit of a loss. “Well, he loves Whizz-bangs, and your Pyrotechtrix.”
George smiled, chuckling to himself. “Fun, but not exactly suitable for a hospital.”
“Exactly. But honestly, anything you recommended, he’d absolutely adore, so long as I told him you recommended it.”
“Oh yeah?” George raised an eyebrow, glancing down at you.
Saints, he’s handsome.
“Yeah, he’s a big fan. He used to beg us to stop in every time we came to Diagon Alley so he could watch your demonstrations.”
George’s smile widened, a flush creeping up his neck. “Well, ah, that’s really—” he scratched the back of his head, clearly flustered by the revelation. “That’s very kind,” he managed with a breathy chuckle.
The door jingled as another customer came in and you tensed, George’s eye flicking towards the new customer, then back down to you.
You moved to slip your arm from his. “I can look around, you go ahead—”
“Oi, Ron!” George shouted, a hand cupped around his mouth, his arm tightening around yours so you stayed put.
“What? I’m sorting inventory!” Ron Weasley shouted back, appearing from the back of the store with arms full of boxes. His eyes quickly scanned over you, your joined arms, then back to George, who was nodding his head towards the door. “Welcome to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!” Ron turned greeted the customer, dropping the boxes where he stood.
You chuckled, leaning a bit closer to George, grateful that he didn’t abandon you.
“You’re my first priority today,” he murmured to you, close enough that you could smell his amber cologne, and you felt your anxiety unspool for the first time in weeks. For this one thing, this small, Christmas gift hunt, you weren’t alone.
You spent the rest of the morning with George, wandering through aisle after aisle as he talked you through every product you showed an interest in. At first, he seemed reluctant to talk about products with stories tied to Fred, like prodding a sore wound, but eventually he was telling story after story, grinning and laughing at the memories of their countless antics.
He encouraged you to share about your brother as well, and by the end, you were both in stitches from laughing, cheeks sore and eyes watery with tears. It warmed your heart to see him light up at the his brother’s memory, to see the love between them still very much burning, and soothed a bit of your fear.
No matter what happened, the love and the memories would remain.
You finally settled on an Aviatomobile and a few muggle magic tricks, nothing explosive, sticky, or illness-causing. George carried the items to the counter, setting them gently on surface, but hesitated when he reached for the register.
He turned, grabbing a gift box from beneath the counter. Carefully, he wrapped each item in branded tissue paper and nestled them into the box, then rearranged them once, then twice, before finally placing the lid and tying an orange bow around it. Then, he grabbed one of the paper ornaments from the counter, where kids could write little messages or drawings to hang on the gravity-defying Christmas tree, and scribbled something on it before securing it to the bow.
“There we go,” he said, pushing it towards you with a sheepish smile.
You reached for you wallet. “How much do I—”
He shook his head, waving you off. “It’s on me. Least I can do for an avid supporter.”
Tears burned behind your eyes again, caught off guard by his generosity. “George, I can’t—”
“Please, just—let me do this for your brother.” George’s eyes held yours, soft around the corners. “It’s what Fred would do.”
You nodded, unable to speak through the lump in your throat.
“Would you want to, uh, maybe get a drink later? Or coffee?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck, freckled cheeks flushing pink.
You smiled, your heart flipping in your chest. “I’d love to. We could get ice cream at Fortescue's?” You offered.
He smiled back. “Perfect. 7 o’clock?”
“Perfect,” you repeated, fighting a nervous giggle. “I’ll see you later, then.” You hefted the box in your arms and waved goodbye, hurrying out before you said anything embarrassing, or melted into a puddle of goo on the floor.
Halfway down the street, you finally glanced at the paper ornament George attached to the gift.
Sorry, mate. No explosive’s. Sister’s orders. But I’ve got a stash in the back waiting for you when you’re ready. Merry Christmas. - GW
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You were fizzing with excitement as you approached the ice cream shop, a soft flurry of snowflakes dancing int the twinkle lights strew across Diagon Alley. Vendors were at every corner, selling steaming beverages, candied nuts, and fried dough. Shoppers wandered from glowing door to glowing door, bundled in thick coats and arms laden with bags. A choir sang Christmas carols on the steps of Gringotts, toads wearing Santa hats cradled in their arms, and you paused to listen while they sang “Carol of the Bells”, trying to collect your scattered mind.
You hadn’t stopped thinking about George for a moment, so wound up that you started getting ready three hours early for a simple ice cream date. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so giddy, so hopeful.
“I like this song,” a familiar voice murmured in your ear and you looked up, finding George standing beside you watching the carolers, the lights reflecting in his brown eyes. He was dressed in a brown wool coat with a Gryffindor scarf around his neck, a white, cable knit sweater and jeans underneath, patches on the knees.
“Me too,” you replied, biting your lips to stop the grin threatening to rise. “How was your day?”
“Chaos. I left Ron to deal with the stragglers. We were supposed to close around six…” he trailed off, his eyes catching on a group of wizards. You followed his eye, and were appalled to find them muttering and pointing at him. And when you looked around, you noticed several groups were doing the same.
Instinctively, you moved closer to him, as if you could shield him somehow.
His fingers twined with yours, warm and calloused. “It’s alright,” he said, turning you to face him. “M’used to it.”
“It’s not alright,” you said, raising your voice and directing a pointed glare at the noisy folks. “It’s rude!”
He chuckled, tugging you away from the carolers. “Easy, love. It doesn’t bother me much anymore. Don’t give them any of your attention.”
You sighed, falling into step beside him, hands still clasped together. “I’m sorry they treat you like that,” you said, glaring daggers at anyone that even glanced in his direction while you walked towards Fortescue's.
“It was worse when we first reopened the shop.” His thumb swiped back and forth across yours, soothing the irritation itching under your skin. “They would come in just to get a look at me. Like my grief was some kind of spectator sport.”
“I can’t imagine having that kind of loss broadcast to the entire world,” you said, glancing at a newspaper stand plastered in the Daily Prophet.
“It’s inhumane,” he replied, stopping in front of the ice cream shop. “But, I’m grateful for it too.”
You raised an eyebrow, facing him in the warm glow of the window.
“Everyone knows how amazing he was,” he murmured, his voice thickening with emotion. He looked down at your joined hands, playing with your fingers. “He’s a hero.”
You squeezed his hand, prompting him to look up at you. “So are you, George," you said, inflecting as much sincerity as you could into your voice. "Y’know, I was there that day, when you and Fred left Hogwarts?”
His eyes widened. “You were?”
You nodded. “I was two years under you, we wouldn’t have crossed paths,” you said, trying to assuage the needless guilt that crossed his face. “But I’ll never forget that moment, watching you guys reclaim the magic that makes Hogwarts, well, Hogwarts. You inspired all of us left behind.”
He gave you a sad smile, his eyes shiny with unshed tears, and brought your knuckles to his lips, brushing a kiss across them. “Thank you for telling me that,” he whispered. “You didn’t get burned, did you?” He asked, worry suddenly creasing his brow.
You giggled. “No, no. No one was hurt besides Umbridge's ego.”
He exhaled, flashing a relieved smile. “Okay, good. Because that would have been a terrible first impression.” He opened the door to the ice cream shop, gesturing for you to step inside.
“My first impression was when you turned Ms. Norris purple during the Halloween feast,” you said, stepping past him and into line, the smell of waffle cones and caramel wafting over you.
George barked a laugh, his head falling back with the force of it, and you smiled. “Better, I suppose.”
“It’s not like I made a great first impression on you, weeping like a sap as soon as I stepped into your store,” you joked, too busy gazing up at his smiling face to notice the line move forward without you.
He shook his head, still chuckling. “No, it was a perfect first impression.”
You ordered your bowls of ice cream, Peppermint Marshmallow Mayhem for George and Gingerbread Dreams for you, and sat at a corner booth by the window, talking about nothing in particular for awhile while you ate.
“So, how’s your brother doing today? You mentioned he had some imaging this afternoon?” George asked, genuine concern creasing his brow.
“He’s doing well, actually. No pneumonia, by Godric’s grace, and his fever broke this afternoon. Still not sure what caused it, but hopefully nothing of concern,” you answered, you heart lifting at his relieved smile.
“Good, I’m really glad to hear that. Now, let me try your ice cream.” He waggled his spoon and you laughed, sliding it towards him. He took the tiniest spoonful, flipping it over to lick it off, and your cheeks warmed at the way his tongue caressed the curve of the spoon.
You knew you were caught when he smirked around the utensil, but he let it slide.
“Here, try mine.” He dug a spoonful out of his bowl, holding it out for you to take a bite with a borderline sinful look in his eye.
“George Weasley,” you teased, shaking your head. “You are such a flirt.”
“Can you blame me? I’m sitting across from my dream woman,” he replied, grinning.
Now your cheeks were really warming, and you leaned forward to take a small bite off the edge of his spoon. Sugary peppermint and creamy marshmallow coated your tongue, and you moaned.
“Good?” he asked, raising a brow.
“Delicious,” you giggled, watching as he ate the rest of the spoonful, and wondered how it would taste on his tongue.
After ice cream, you continued wandering around Diagon Alley, peeking in all the shop windows and sipping warm butter beer, until your noses were pink from the chill, your hair full of glittering snow.
You stopped outside of his shop, the sign flipped to ‘closed’ and only a few lights on inside along with the exterior holiday decor, presumably left on for George.
“I have a confession to make,” he said, stepping a little closer to you.
Your heart pounded in your chest, a thrill of excitement pulsing through you. “What?” You asked, picking invisible lint of his lapel just to have something to do with your hands.
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I saw you watching the carolers,” he murmured, sliding his glove off and reaching out to cradle your face, his touch gentle, giving you every opportunity to pull away.
You leaned your head into his large palm, gazing up at him, freckled, flushed, and starry-eyed. You’d never seen someone look at you with adoration before, and it made your soul sing.
Instead of saying anything, you rose onto your toes and pressed your lips to his, a quick, airy peck. But when you went to move back, his hand held you in place, lips just barely touching.
“Again,” he breathed, his other hand coming around to rest on your lower back. “Please?”
You gave the tiniest nod, feeling like your heart might burst out of your chest, and his lips connected with yours again in a slow, languid kiss, the taste of ice cream and butter beer and him making your head go a little fuzzy, your right foot popping up behind you as you leaned into his embrace.
His tongue caressed the seam of your mouth, but he didn’t push further, just a small tease before winding the kiss down until it ended the way it started, with a few barely-there pecks in reluctant departure.
You sighed against him, lowering back onto flat feet, and he smiled, drawing you into his chest for hug. You slipped you arms under his coat, feeling the softness of his sweater and the warmth of his body envelop you.
“Thank you for this,” you murmured. “I really, really needed it.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tight around your body. “So did I. Can we do it again tomorrow? Breakfast? Sunrise picnic?”
You chuckled, tilting your chin up to rest on his sternum. “Breakfast sounds great.”
George beamed, dropping a warm kiss to the frozen tip of your nose. “I’ll pick you up at nine?”
“It’s a date.” You stole one last kiss before slipping away, practically skipping.
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You and George saw each other every day for the next week, whether it was to wander around Diagon Alley, looking at the lights and festivities, or grabbing a quick cup of tea between busy shifts. Neither of you could stand being apart for more than a few hours at a time.
Tonight, George invited you to his flat for dinner and muggle Christmas films, and you were dressed in the ugliest Christmas sweater you could find. With a timid hand, you knocked on his door.
It opened under you fist, revealing George on the other side, wearing a maroon sweater with a giant ‘G’ on the front of it and a sauce splattered apron.
“Hey, love.” He tugged you inside, pressing an eager kiss to your lips before ushering you down the hall, his deft fingers unraveling your scarf from your neck and peeling the coat from your shoulders. You laughed at his haste, spinning and hopping as he removed your boots. He stopped only when he finally saw your sweater. “Oh, darling. You look ravishing.” His hands fell to your waist and he pulled you into his chest, a mischievous grin on his face. “Very fashion forward.”
“Thank you, baby,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. You hadn’t called him that before, but it just rolled right off your tongue, natural as breathing.
He loosed a pleased hum, leaning forward to capture your lips in another, slower kiss. “Like hearin’ you call me baby,” he mumbled against your mouth.
The oven beeped loudly, startling you both.
“Hungry?” He asked with a shy smile.
“Starved.”
He showed you to the dining room, a round table with a vase of flowers at the center, candles strewn on every surface. He pulled a chair out for you and you sat, accepting a kiss on the cheek before he dashed back into the kitchen.
You looked around, having been too caught up in his frantic greeting to take in the space. The rest of the flat was sparsely decorated, purely functional, besides a sagging bookshelf in the living room, and a few photos along the hallway. Not a Christmas decoration was in sight.
George returned with two glasses of wine, the bottle tucked under his arm. “Here we go, a little Pinot Noir for my gorgeous girl.” He set the glasses down then finally sat down in his chair.
“Thank you, baby,” you teased, and he smirked, withdrawing his wand from his apron and waving it towards the kitchen. A moment later, a giant bowl full of pasta, a basket of bread, a salad bowl, and two plates came hovering out of the kitchen, arranging themselves neatly on the table.
“Bon appetite.” He raised his wine glass, a shy little smile on his face, and you raised yours to cheers, so charmed you could cry.
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Two hours later, you were curled up on George’s couch, half enjoying Home Alone, half enjoying the feel of each other’s skin under your sweaters, the rich taste of wine on each other’s tongues.
“How come you haven't decorated for Christmas?” You mumbled between languid pecks, his soft lips moving to trail over your jaw.
“Didn't much feel like celebrating this year,” he replied, kissing down your neck, his tongue tracing your pulse.
“And yet here we are, watching corny holiday films,” you chuckled and felt him smile against your neck.
“Things changed.” He lifted his head, capturing your lips in a heavy, open-mouthed kiss that made your blood warm, your heart beat a little quicker in your chest.
Suddenly, something slammed against the window, a frantic scrabbling against glass that had George springing up like something electrocuted him.
“Errol?” George moved toward the window. “No, what the fuck—”
“Oh my god, what are you doing here?!” You cried, jumping up and throwing open the window. Your family owl flew in, landing on the back of the couch. Fear pumped through you and you snatched the letter from his beak, rougher than the poor bird deserved in your panic.
“What is it?” George rested his hands on your hips as you tore it open.
The words on the card made your heart stop.
Mungo’s now, Mum
“George,” you whimpered, sagging against him as terror rocked through you.
He took the letter from your hand and skimmed it. “Go get your coat on, I’ll take you.”
“I—” You were frozen, darkness pulsing at the edges of your vision.
His hands came up to hold your face, shaking you gently. “Honey, we have to go. I’m going to be right here with you, okay? We’re going together. But we have to move now.”
You nodded, clawing through the sludge of fear and clinging to the thread of stability he offered. He helped you into your coat and shooed the owl out, not even bothering to lock up before he was ushering you into his chest.
“Hold onto me,” he ordered, and you did, and suddenly the world was sucked away, a dizzying, horrible tornado of space, and then it spit you back out on the front steps of St. Mungo’s.
“Holy shit,” you gagged, clutching onto George and he held you upright.
“Sorry, love. Never apparated before?” He asked, rubbing your back.
You shook your head.
“Y/n!”
George stiffened, his hands tightening on you, and you looked up.
“Mum!” You cried, rushing to her.
“Oh, hun. I’m sorry to frighten you, he’s okay. Just a scare. I’m so sorry, darling,” she cried, clinging to you.
“Sh, no, it’s alright. I should be here,” you soothed, squeezing your eyes shut to stop the tears from falling. “What happened?”
“He couldn’t breathe, his lungs—pneumonia again,” your mom hiccuped, wiping at her cheeks. “Who’s that?” She asked, looking over your shoulder.
George was were you had left him, hands stuffed in his pockets, his eyes bouncing from you and your mom to the strangers mingling on the sidewalk. You could tell his hackles were raised, some protective instinct roused when he’d been startled by the owl.
You waved him over. “Mum, this is George Weasley. George, this is my mum.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” George said, offering her a hand and a shy smile.
She clutched his hand hard and you both winced. “I-you-Weasley—The George Weasley?” She gasped.
“Just George is fine,” he said with a nervous chuckle.
“Oh my, I just can't believe—”
“Mum, can we go see him now?” You interrupted, anxious to see that he was well yourself. “I promise you'll have a proper introduction later.”
“Yes, of course. This way.” She released George and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the hospital.
George hesitated, until you reached your hand out to him. He immediately threaded your fingers together, falling into step with your frantic mother.
A few moments later, you rushed into your brother's room, finding him upright and smiling, some new tubes in his little nose, but all together looking well.
“Mum, I said to leave her alone!” He argued, crossing his arms over his reindeer pj's.
“Hush you,” you scolded lightly, wrapping him up in a hug and kissing his forehead, noting his lingering fever. “How are you feeling, darling?” You asked, pulling back to hold his face.
“M'okay. They let me have some ice lollies earlier!” He chirped, sticking out his neon blue tongue.
You grinned. “I see, that's excellent.”
He opened his mouth to say something else, but then you saw his eyes widen, mouth falling open in shock. You turned to see what he was looking at and realized it was George, who was loitering in the doorway.
“Is that—” your brother started, and George looked up. “Wizard—Wizard Wheezes!”
George’s solemn expression shattered into a wide smile as he stepped into the room, his energy shifting instantly. “Hello, mate! I’m George. Heard your not feeling so good?” George reached out to shake his little hand, and he took it, his fingers dwarfed by George's palm.
“No, no. I'm fine!” Your brother replied, shock melting into excitement. “What are you doing here?”
George glanced down at you. “Your sister has been telling me all about you, and how strong you've been lately,” he said, crouching down beside the bed. “She loves you a lot, y’know?”
You stepped out of the way, tears starting to burn behind your eyes. Your mother slipped her hand into yours, watching the interaction with a hand pressed to her mouth.
“I know, but she worries too much,” your brother answered, and George burst out laughing.
“That's what happens when you love someone,” George replied, smiling. “You want to protect them from anything that might hurt them, even if you know you can't.”
“I’m big like you, I don't need protecting!” He argued.
George nodded, pressing a hand to his chest apologetically. “I can tell. But that doesn't mean they don't want to try anyways. And big guys like us have to protect them in return, yeah?”
Your brother nodded, puffing up his chest. “I'll never let anything happen to my sister. I promise!”
You blew him a kiss, and George gave him a high five.
“That's my buddy. Now, let's see if I've got anything special for heroes like you.” George fished around in his pocket, making dramatic faces while he rummaged in what you thought was an empty pocket.
But then he withdrew what appeared to be a toy airplane that would in no way, shape, or form fit in that pocket without magic. Your brothers face lit up when George threw it in the air and it started to fly, ducking and whizzing around the room.
“Hm, that wasn't what I was looking for,” George said with a dramatic frown, and you giggled. He glanced over his shoulder at you, breaking his frown to smirk at your reaction, and started fishing around in his pockets again.
He pulled out a bouncing ball, then a rubber chicken, a set of chattering teeth, a stuffed teddy bear. Item after item came out of his pockets until your brothers bed was covered in toys and gag items, and a dozen nurses were watching in amazement from the hallway. You and your mom were fighting through silent tears, your heart so big you felt it might explode out of your chest.
Most importantly, your brother was ecstatic, playing with this and that and chattering away at George about the different products and teaching him how to do magic tricks George himself had invented.
But half an hour later, your brother’s nurse came in to administer some of his medication and get him ready for bed. He tried to protest, but his new best friend, George, managed to talk him into not only compliance, but eager acceptance of his medicine.
You stole George away into the now quiet hall, Christmas lights illuminating the dark corridor, and threw your arms around his shoulders, burying your face into his neck, needing to feel him close, to ground you through the onslaught of emotions.
He wrapped his arms around you, his head turning to kiss your temple. “Need some air?” He murmured, and you shook your head no.
“Just need you,” you whispered, holding him tighter.
He let you cry into his shoulder, rubbing soothing circles onto your back and murmuring reassurances into your hair. When you'd exhausted yourself, you pulled back and he reached up to hold your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs.
“Thank you for doing that,” you sniffled, sliding your hands down his chest, his sweater soft beneath your palms.
“It was my pleasure, love,” he replied, looking you in the eye. “You—him—this, I needed this. Needed you,” he breathed, voice tightening. “I forgot why we did it all, what all the sacrifices were for, and you reminded me. He reminded me.”
You rose on your toes to press a kiss to his lips, not knowing how else to express how you were feeling that wasn't, well, insanely soon.
He kissed you back, passionate enough to steal your breath, but released you when the door to your brother's room opened.
“Darling—oh, I'm sorry. Darling, would you like to come get a cup of coffee with me?” Your mother asked, clearly fighting a grin at discovering you.
“Sure, mum,” you exhaled, reluctantly stepping away from George. “You okay for a minute?”
“Absolutely, I'll keep an eye on him.” He pressed a kiss to your knuckles before releasing you to your mother, a soft smile on his face.
When you returned twenty minutes later, you found George stretched out in the arm chair pulled up right next to your brother’s bed, Rudolph on the television.
“—Fred managed to get the deer into the kitchen with some carrots and loaf of banana bread, and kept him distracted while I tied bells and ornaments—mom’s favorite’s, of course—to it’s antlers.”
Your brother was giggling, curled up with the stuffed bear George conjured earlier, his eyes heavy as he fought to stay awake to hear the story.
“But then we ran out of banana bread and Fred tried to give it some cookies, but by then the deer had discovered the Christmas tree in the corner, with the popcorn strings and cranberries and salt dough ornaments, y’know? So the deer started eating the bloody Christmas tree and we cannot get it out of the house now. It’s found the best sodding snack on earth. So by the time my mom get’s home, half the tree is gone, there’s shi—dirt all over the house, dishes are broken, holes in the walls—”
“What did she do?” Your mom asked, laughing. “I would have sent you out to live with the deer and it’s family.”
George grinned. “We ate nothing but carrots and banana bread for a week. Even for Christmas dinner. It was torture,” he chuckled, turning back to your brother, only to find him sound asleep. “That boring, huh?” He joked, rising from the chair so your mom could take it. But instead, she pulled him in for a hug, surprising him.
“Thank you for doing this, and I’m so sorry about your brother. But I know he’d be so proud of you today,” she murmured, and you saw George’s eyes well, his jaw flexing as he tried to fight it. Your mom pulled back, pressing a kiss to his cheek, then smoothing away her lipstick with her thumb. “You’re a wonderful, wonderful man, George Weasley. And I’m so glad you’re here.”
He nodded, a tear streaking down his face. “Thank you, ma’am. That’s very k-kind.”
Your mother passed him to you, his hand gripping your tightly as he fought to keep his composure. “Goodnight, mum. I’ll see you in the morning?”
Your mother nodded, waving you away while she kissed your brothers cheek.
You led George out of the room and down the hall, finding an empty room to slip into. As soon as the door closed behind you, he sank to his knees, great, heaving sobs wracking his body. You lowered yourself to the ground with him, pulling his head into your shoulder and rocking him back and forth, his tears soaking through your sweater and shaking your whole body.
“I miss him,” George gasped like he was in pain, his grip almost bruising around your body.
“I know, baby. I know you do,” you said into his hair, holding his head against your chest. Your own tears began to spill then, for him, for you, for your family, and his, and you clung to one another as the overwhelming grief took it’s pound of flesh.
Slowly, he began to settle, breathing labored, but his tears subsiding. He lifted his head, looking at you through tear-brightened eyes, his lashes dark and spiked with moisture. You leaned forward, kissing away the droplets on his cheeks and jaw, until you felt him start to smile.
“I-it’s been so long since I—” he cleared his throat, reaching up to cup your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “I was numb for awhile, so long I sort of forgot what anything else felt like. I meant what I said earlier, you reminded me of what I’d lost, but in the best way.” Tears welled up again, but he smiled through them. “He would have been so fucking jealous that I got you. But Merlin, he would have loved you so much.”
You huffed a laugh, lower lip trembling as your heart soared. “George,” was all you could manage, and he leaned forward to kiss you, rising onto his knees and pulling into into his chest.
Then, that wild spinning sensation enveloped you again, and in a blink you were back on his couch, exactly as you were before, the credits to the movie rolling on the screen, your glasses of wine exactly where you left them.
“Stay with me tonight,” he asked, trailing kisses down your neck as you reoriented yourself. “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, we could spend it together.” He lifted his head to look you in the eyes, and you nodded eagerly.
“Yeah,” you said, laughing as he rained kisses over your face. “I’m not going anywhere.”
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Thank you so much for reading!
I hope you have the most wonderful holiday season and start of the new year <3
400 notes · View notes
rhiannonsknife · 1 day ago
Text
— BUT I’M A CHEERLEADER (part 2)
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— summary: your first date with nat takes an unexpected turn.
— warnings: fluff. lots of period typical & internalized homophobia. angst. hurt/no comfort (yet). fem!reader. also i don’t know shit about bowling or soccer.
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the next evening, you show up at the bowling alley ten minutes early, too giddy to keep pacing back and forth in your room.
the place is exactly what you expected: slightly dim, neon lights flickering over rows of well-worn lanes, the faint smell of fried food hanging in the air. it’s loud and feels worlds away from your usual hangouts, not at all what you thought nat would suggest and busier than you expected for a weeknight.
nat arrives right on time, striding in with her hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket. she scans the room for a second before her gaze lands on you. immediately, her lips twitch into a smirk, and she saunters over to where you’re standing.
“didn’t think you’d actually show,” she says by way of greeting and stops in front of you.
you roll your eyes, trying not to let her see just how much you’ve been looking forward to this. “i’m not the flaky one, remember?”
nat huffs a laugh, the corners of her mouth lifting ever so slightly. “fair point. ready to get your ass kicked?”
“oh, please,” you scoff. “you already admitted you’re terrible at this!”
“yeah, but so are you. let’s go!” she says, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the counter to rent shoes.
as it turns out, nat wasn’t lying: she is terrible at bowling. her first two frames are instant gutter balls, and her third also veers off almost immediately, careening into the gutter with a dramatic thunk. she straightens up, staring after it for a moment, then turns to you with a deadpan expression.
“your turn!”
you burst out laughing from where you’d been watching her. “that’s it?“
“what?” nat shrugs. “think you’re gonna be any better?”
“wow,” you tease as you walk past her and grab your ball. “so much hope in me!”
she leans against the scorer’s table, crossing her arms as she watches you line up your shot. “show me how it’s done, hotshot!”
you’re determined not to make too much of a fool of yourself, though the bar is already ridiculously low after nat’s poor attempts. you square your shoulders, take a deep breath, and let the ball roll. for a brief, shining moment, you think you’ve nailed it. until it teeters off course and tumbles into the gutter about halfway down the lane.
behind you, nat laughs so hard you’re worried she might actually fall over. “nice job,” she says. “real pro move there!”
“oh, shut up,” you mutter, but you’re grinning too, the sting of failure softened by how ridiculous the whole scene feels.
you take another ball from the rack, determined to redeem yourself. this time, you actually take your time lining up the shot, glancing back at nat, who’s lounging against the table with an amused grin.
“focus, champ,” she teases. “no pressure!”
“uh huh,” you shoot back, shaking your head. you roll the ball, watching it glide smoothly down the lane. for a moment, it looks like it’s going to hit dead center before it veers to the side, taking out an astounding amount of three pins.
nat bursts into laughter, and you groan dramatically. “are you serious?”
“hey, three’s better than none,” she says, clapping slowly. “progress!”
“wow, thanks for the support,” you say, returning to the table and plopping into the chair beside her.
“anytime,” nat replies, still chuckling. she’s next to grab a ball and saunters up to the lane. her casual confidence is almost convincing…until she bowls another gutter ball.
by the fifth frame, you’ve given up on trying to win and are instead competing to see who can make the worst shot. nat perfects a move where she lazily tosses the ball underhand, watching it crawl its way to the pins at an impressively slow pace. it knocks over exactly one pin, and she doubles over laughing.
you’re holding up a hand as tears of laughter blur your vision. “they’re going to kick us out for disrespecting the sport or something!”
halfway through the game, you’re sitting side by side at the table, splitting a basket of fries nat insisted on getting. even with the chaos around you, the occasional strike followed by whoops of celebration, your attention keeps drifting back to her.
nat catches your not so subtle staring and raises an eyebrow. she dips a fry into the remains of ketchup and asks: “what?”
you quickly shake your head, feeling your cheeks heat. “nothing. just…you’re really bad at this,”
she smirks, popping a fry into her mouth. “yeah, well, you’re not much better!”
you laugh, nudging her with your shoulder. “fair enough!”
there’s a pause, comfortable and easy, before she speaks again. “you know, i kind of like this.”
you glance at nat sideways, surprised. “bowling?”
“no,” she says, rolling her eyes. “this. you. not being so…cheerleader-y!”
you stomach flips again, but you keep your voice light. “and here i thought you loved my pom-poms!”
nat grins, shaking her head as she hops up to her feet. “come on! i still have to finish this!”
“oh, please,” you say, leaning forward to steal a fry of your own. “we’re both disasters. let’s just call it a tie and save ourselves the embarrassment!”
nat’s grin widens as she shakes her head. “no way! i’m committed now. this game isn’t over until one of us manages a strike!”
“a strike?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “we’ll be here all night!”
“good,” nat says. “i’ve got nowhere else to be!”
unsurprisingly, neither of you manages a strike. by the time you finally give up, the scoreboard is a tragic display of gutter balls and spare attempts. still, your sides ache from laughing too hard at nat’s increasingly dramatic reactions to her missed shots.
“well,” you say, slipping your bowling shoes off at the rental counter, “i think it’s safe to say we’re not getting scouted for the pro leagues anytime soon!”
nat tosses her own shoes onto the counter with a loud thud, shrugging. “hey, speak for yourself! i’ve got potential!”
you shake your head, grinning. “maybe next time we stick to something less physical?”
the words are out before you have time to consider their implications. judging by nat’s attitude before, you wonder if she’s even up for something like a ‘next time’ or if she’s counting down the seconds until she can get out of here.
the way she’s smiling -unlike anything you’ve ever seen in school- does seem like she’s having at least as much fun as you though. and instead of turning you down, she’s nudging you with her elbow. “what about the arcade? i think i’ve got enough energy left to kick your ass at air hockey too!”
“you’re awfully confident for someone who couldn’t break 60 in bowling,” you tease, following her toward the neon glow of the arcade that’s tucked into a different part of the building.
nat just glances back over her shoulder, grinning. “you’ll see!”
the arcade is alive with sound and light and you wander through the rows of machines shoulder to shoulder, eventually stopping at a basketball free-throw game.
“alright,” nat says, cracking her knuckles. “let’s see what you’ve got, cheerleader!”
“oh, please. you’re the one on a soccer team,” you reply, gesturing at the hoop. “shouldn’t hand-eye coordination also be your kind of thing?”
“soccer,” she deadpans. “not basketball. but i guess we’ll find out!”
nat does manage a solid lead at first, sinking several shots in a row while you struggle to keep up. when her aim falters, and you take your chance to catch up, scoring three baskets back-to-back just before the timer runs out.
“okay, okay,” she says, raising her hands in surrender as the scoreboard flashes your victory. “maybe i’ll stick to soccer!”
“what was that about destroying me?”
nat rolls her eyes, grabbing the tickets that spit out from the machine. “beginner’s luck. don’t get used to it!”
you’re still laughing when you pass a pair of shooting games tucked into the corner of the room next. she instantly slows, her attention caught by the pixelated zombies on the screen.
“oh, we have to play this,” nat declares, stepping toward it. “let’s see who’s got better shooting aim!”
she’s already grabbing one of the plastic guns and hands the other to you. “come on! i’ll even give you a head start!”
you hesitantly take it from her, your fingers fumbling to hold it correctly. the machine comes to life as nat inserts a few quarters. the game starts with an obnoxiously loud intro and an animated announcer yelling about a zombie apocalypse while dramatic music plays in the background.
“okay, ready?” nat asks, aiming her gun.
“i think so,” you say, mimicking her stance.
she takes the first few shots like a pro, hitting targets with surprising accuracy. the same can’t be said for you: your first shot misses so badly that she actually pauses to laugh, nearly getting hit herself in the process.
“you’re supposed to aim at the zombies, you know?”she teases.
“i am aiming at the zombies!” you reply, adjusting your grip on the gun.
nat glances at you, then laughs. “what are you doing? you’re holding it like it’s a water pistol!”
you huff. “well, excuse me for not being an expert at fake guns!”
nat shakes her head, grinning. “here, let me show you!”
before you can argue, she steps behind you, her arms brushing yours as she adjusts your grip. nat’s hands settle over yours, guiding you to hold the gun steady. “like this,” she says softly, her voice so close to your ear that it sends a shiver down your spine.
you nod, thought your brain feels absolutely scrambled. you’re hyperaware of just how close she is, the warmth of her hands over yours, the faint smell of her cologne.
“see?” she continues, her voice low and her breath warm against the back of your neck. if nat is aware of the affect that she has on you, she won’t let it show. “now you can actually aim!”
“yeah,” you manage. you’re not sure you’re even looking at the screen anymore.
her fingers linger for a second too long before she steps back. you exhale, trying to shake off the heat rising to your face, and focus on the game instead.
it continues, and though you start hitting a few more targets, nat still dominates the scoreboard all throughout the game. by the final round, both of you are frantically firing at the screen, shouting instructions at each other and laughing whenever one of you misses.
the neon lights of the arcade reflect off nat’s face as she occasionally grins at you between firing shots. for this moment, it feels like the world has narrowed down to just the two of you. it feels like the kind of moment you’d envisioned yourself having time and time again, not once thinking somebody like you would ever live this kind of reality. now here you are, with nat scatorccio out of all people.
then, just as the next wave of pixelated zombies is about to appear on screen, you catch sight of someone out of the corner of your eye: a figure standing near the claw machine. familiar. too familiar.
your stomach instantly twists at the sight. it’s her. she’s leaning casually against the side of the machine, her arms crossed as she watches you. even surrounded by a group of friends, some of which you recognize from cheer practice, her eyes are on you and nat.
panic rushes through you suddenly, and you feel the familiar urge to get out of her eyesight as fast as possible.
“hey, uhm, give me a second,” you mumble, setting the plastic gun down.
nat straightens, her smile fading into concern. “you okay?”
“yeah,” you say quickly, forcing a smile and an unconvincing thumbs up. “just…bathroom. be right back!”
you weave through the crowd, your heartbeat thundering in your ears and drowning out the noise of the arcade around you. the bathroom door swings open with a soft creak, and you step inside, bracing your hands against the sink.
the harsh fluorescent lights make everything feel too bright, too sharp. you grip the edge, your knuckles turning white.
she saw you. she saw you laughing with nat, leaning close, acting like you didn’t care about the looks, the whispers she used to care about back when you were sneaking around. she won’t just let that slide.
when the door swings open behind you, you don’t need to turn around to know it’s her who steps inside.
“didn’t think i’d see you here,”
your meet her eyes in the mirror, your reflection pale and tense. “what do you want?”
she steps inside, letting the door shut behind her. “relax. i’m just saying hi!”
you turn to face her fully, crossing your arms in front of you like a shield. “hi. now leave.”
she ignores the demand, only steps closer instead. “i didn’t know you were into arcade games,” she says, raising a brow. “or that you were hanging out with yellowjackets…?”
your nails press crescent moon shapes into the palm of your hand as you attempt to stand your ground. it’s always been hard with her, when she’s so used to getting whatever she pleases.
“it’s just funny. i thought you didn’t even like soccer?” she tilts her head. “so what’s this then? some new hobby?”
your throat feels dry as you try and find your voice. “it’s not- nat and i are just hanging out!”
“right” she says, dragging the word out.
“what do you want?”
she shrugs, stepping further into the bathroom. “just curious. you’ve been avoiding me, and now here you are, cozying up to scatorccio of all people!”
you flinch at her tone, the condescension in the way she says nat’s name. “it’s none of your business!”
“oh, but it is,” she says, her voice sharpening as she hisses: “do you have any idea how that looks? you’re not exactly subtle, you know? half the arcade probably thinks you two are…” she trails off.
you stomach churns. you doubt she’ll ever change: apparently, even being associated with somebody who might be queer is too much for her to handle. “so what if they do?”
her eyes narrow. “so what? are you serious right now?”
you feel your hands curl into fists at your sides. “what are you trying to say?”
“all i’m saying is that you’re playing with fire,” she snaps, her voice rising. “people talk. and if you’re not careful, you’re going to ruin everything for yourself!”
your breath catches. “ruin what? there’s nothing to ruin!”
“oh please!” she takes another step closer. “you think people are just going to be okay with it? you think you’re going to waltz around with your little soccer girlfriend and not have it blow up in your face?”
you swallow hard. “nat’s not my girlfriend!”
“that’s not the point,” she says, her tone growing harsher. “the point is you’re going to make things harder for yourself! and for what? for her?”
you feel your eyes sting. you hate that she can still get to you like this. “why do you even care? you made it clear you didn’t want this!”
“because i didn’t want to ruin my life,” she says, her voice rising. “do you know what people would say if they knew? if they knew about us? about you?”
“you act like i’m the problem,” you manage to scoff. “like i’m ruining everything. you’re the one who’s scared. you’re the one who can’t deal with who you are!”
“i know things about you!” she snaps then. “things i could say. people i could tell!”
your breath hitches all over again, the weight of her words -of the threat- pressing down on you like a physical force.
before you can respond, the door swings open again, and nat steps inside. her eyes immediately lock onto yours, and then dart to your ex, her jaw tightening. she might not know who she is yet, but you’re sure nat can put two and two together.
“what’s going on here?”
“nothing,” your ex says quickly, straightening up. “we were just…talking!”
nat doesn’t look convinced. she steps closer, positioning herself between you and her. “didn’t sound like just talking!”
“jesus, relax natalie,” she rolls her eyes. “this has nothing to do with you!”
“it has if you’re upsetting her,” nat says.
your ex falters, her confidence wavering under nat’s steady gaze. she looks at you one last time, scoffing, her expression a mix of anger and something almost like regret. but then she turns on her heel, brushing past nat as she storms out of the bathroom.
“hey,” nat immediately says. “are you okay?”
you nod, but the tears spill over anyway. “i’m fine,” you mumble, quickly wiping at your face.
nat steps closer, her presence steadying in a way you never knew before. “you don’t have to be,” she assures.
“she’s just…” you trail off, struggling to find the words. “she’s like that because of her own stuff. it’s not about me. not really”
nat nods, “i get it, but it still sucks!”
you let out a weak laugh, the tension in your chest loosening just a little. “yeah. it does,”
she hesitates, then reaches out, her hand brushing your shoulder. the touch is brief at first but grounding, and when you don’t turn away, nat dares to pull you into somewhat of a half embrace, unsure but no less comforting.
“come on,” nat mumbles after a moment. “let’s get you out of here, yeah? i’m not letting you have another breakdown in a bathroom over her on my watch, cheerleader!”
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the next morning feels like stepping into an entirely different world altogether: the fight in the bathroom with your ex is a long forgotten, thanks to nat’s attempt to cheer you up, and your heart is still buzzing from your time with her.
she’d driven you home after the arcade, and though nothing happened, not a kiss, not even holding hands, you’d caught yourself smiling like an absolute idiot in the passenger seat, replaying the way she’d looked at you all night.
now, even the seemingly endless monotony of class seems oddly tolerable: you actually find yourself sitting through lectures without doodling in your notebook or counting the minutes until lunch. when you spot nat across the hallway between classes or across the room in your one shared history lesson, the sight of her messy hair or a flash of her smile is enough to send a flutter through your chest.
the good mood follows you right up until you step into the gym for cheer practice after school.
something feels off the second you walk in. the usual buzz of chatter and laughter feels stilted, replaced with something tense. any talk is cut off as soon as your sneakers squeak against the polished floor. a quick glance around confirms a suspicion that’s already creeping up on you: people are watching.
and not just glancing, staring.
your tighten your grip on your gym bag, a knot forming in your stomach. your steps falter as you approach the lockers and the murmur of voices picks up again behind you.
“…makes sense, though, doesn’t it?”
“i mean, it’s gross, right?”
“does coach even know?”
you drop your bag by the lockers and start stretching near the mats. the whispers don’t stop. if anything, they grow louder, their words becoming clearer until there’s no pretending you don’t hear them anymore. when you glance toward the group huddled near the bleachers, you see the pointed looks, the smirks, and the unmistakable glare from your ex:
she’s standing at the center of the group, arms crossed, a clearly self-satisfied smirk plastered across her face.
finally, you stand, brushing off your hands, and take a step toward them. “what’s going on?”
the chatter stops abruptly, as if none of them were expecting you to call it out. for a moment, nobody answers, but then she steps forward.
“oh, nothing,” she says, looking around. “we were just talking about how interesting it must’ve been for you, being on a team full of girls. you know…since you’re into that sort of thing?”
it feels like the floor drops out from underneath your feet.
it’s a low blow, even for her, but that doesn’t stop the group of girls that surround you from giggling quietly.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say quickly, but your voice wavers, betraying you. “what’s your problem?”
“no problem here. just thought it was interesting, you know? seeing you out last night. you and natalie scatorccio?”
the gym falls silent. you feel every pair of eyes in the room turns to you.
“we weren’t doing anything,” you manage despite their stares. “we were just hanging out!”
“hanging out?” your ex repeats, feigning surprise. “that’s what you call it? looked a lot more…cozy than that to me!”
laughter ripples through the group, and heat floods your face.
“oh my god,” one of the other girls chimes in, her voice filled with poorly concealed disgust. “are you actually serious? you were on a date with her?”
“it wasn’t a date!” you protest, your voice rising in panic. as much as you would’ve liked for it to be, neither of you labeled it that.
another girl snorts. “right, because scatorccio is totally the type to hang out with a cheerleader just for fun! come on, we’ve all seen her. she’s like…you know?” she makes a vague gesture. there’s no need for her to elaborate for the whole room to understand what she saying.
“like what?” you snap.
“like you,” your ex cuts in smoothly. “two of a kind, right? birds of a feather! must be nice, not having to hide anymore!”
someone snickers behind her. “we’re just friends,” you say, sharper now.
“sure you are, that’s why you were basically all over each other!”
the group bursts into more laughter around you.
“would you just shut up?” you snap at last.
“oh, she’s mad now,” one of the other girls says, her voice a mock sing-song.
your ex steps closer, dropping the act entirely now that you’re chest to chest. “what’s the matter? afraid people might find out who you really are?” she glances around at the others, then back at you. “you know, it’s kind of pathetic. sneaking around like that. nobody’s buying it, anyway!”
“don’t-” your voice cracks.
“don’t what?” she says. “don’t call you out? don’t let everyone know they’ve been sharing a locker room with a lesbian?”
the words hang in the air, sharp and cruel, and hit you like a slap. for a moment, all you can do is stand there, frozen, as the group watches you, some wide-eyed, others smirking.
it’s not just about nat, or you. it’s about your place in their world: your status as part of the team, part of the cheer squad. the one thing you’ve always tried to fit into, always tried to be, no matter how uncomfortable it made you. it is now that you’re realizing that maybe you don’t belong in their world. that maybe you never did.
grabbing your bag, you shove past her and storm toward the door, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst. the door slams shut behind you, muffling the sound of their laughter.
you won’t go back to the gym and give them that satisfaction.
instead, you walk down the halls, past the locker rooms, and head out the back doors. the air outside is cold, but does nothing to numb the ache in your chest. it’s the kind that suddenly feels like it’s been there all along, maybe longer than you realized, even. a crack forming. one piece of your life falling away at a time: cheerleading had always been your thing. your family’s thing, your friends’ thing. you’d been in it so long, it is hard to imagine life without it.
but then there’s still nat.
you’re not sure why your thoughts drift to her now, but you do know one thing for sure: with nat, over these past weeks, you could breathe. the world didn’t feel so small. she made you feel like you again, like someone who could be something other than just a cheerleader, just a girl pretending.
it isn’t until you’ve wandered to the edge of campus that you realize where your feet have taken you: the soccer field stretches out ahead, bright under the last bits of aternoon sun. from where you’re standing, you can see the yellowjackets mid-practice. you hesitate at the edge of the field, heart pounding as your eyes scan the group for her.
they’ve always been a tight group and there’s always been something about them that you’ve admired: the way they’ve got each other’s backs, no questions asked. you can’t help but feel like maybe that’s the one thing you’ve never been able to do for yourself.
nat is easy to spot, even from a distance. she’s wearing shorts and a faded soccer jersey, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail. you freeze, watching as she jogs across the field with an effortless ease before passing the ball to taissa, who maneuvers it past a defender before sending it toward van. van, who catches it, calls out something teasing in return, her voice carrying across the field, and the whole team bursts into laughter.
even from a distance, they’re so at ease with one another.
and then there’s you.
the girl who just got shut out by her own teammates. you stand there, rooted to the spot, watching nat and the others as a painful realization starts to settle in your chest.
clearly, she belongs here.
you don’t.
you think back to the way the yellowjackets rallied around each other at that party, how they’d teased nat when they saw you in her jacket the next day, never with an ounce of cruelty. they’d just laughed and called her out, like it was no big deal. no judgment whatsoever.
out there on the pitch, they don’t look at her the way your squad looked at you today. they don’t treat her like she’s a problem that needs to be fixed. who are you to mess with that?
your chest tightens as the thought takes root: you’ve just lost your place on the cheer squad because you couldn’t keep your feelings buried where they belonged. and now, after one night of just hanging out with nat, everything feels even more precarious.
and it’s not only about you anymore, either. if you let yourself get closer to nat, if people start to notice, if they connect the dots, what happens then? does the judgment simply spill over onto her? onto the team she so clearly loves?
you can’t do that to her, not when she’s so happy here. not when she’s already lost so much, like she told you the night of that party. you can’t be the one to take anything else away from her.
nat jogs toward the sidelines now, wiping sweat from her brow as she laughs at something shauna says not far behind. you catch the faint sound of her voice, low and raspy, and it sends an ache through your chest that already feels too big to name.
you think about walking up to her, about calling her name and letting her see the raw hurt on your face. maybe she’d understand. maybe she’d care. but as you watch her sling an arm around lottie from afar, grinning ear to ear, you hesitate.
what if she doesn’t? what if you’re just another burden she doesn’t need? another thing weighing her down?
before you can second-guess yourself, you turn on your heel, your eyes stinging as you walk away from the field, the sound of laughter fading into the distance behind you.
it’s better this way, you tell yourself. ehe’s happy, and she deserves to stay that way. you’ll figure out the rest on your own, even if it means facing it all alone.
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— a/n: i know it’s not wednesday yet, but a) i just got the sweetest ask ever, which motivated me to sit my ass down and finish this, and b) i have a rhiannon lewis fic for tomorrow that’s been sitting in my drafts since november! so, instead of posting two in one day, enjoy this one today! 😭😭
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fantasylandloser · 2 days ago
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bsf!clark kent
“It’s just a little..” Clark circles around you, displeasure set in his jaw. “..short.” He finishes. “There’s gonna be all kinds of creeps out there.” When you shrug and twirl in your tiny skirt Clarks stern gaze sets on you, expectantly. 
“Why would that matter if I have my big, strong bff forever there to protect me?”
His eyes roll. “You don’t have to say forever if you say bff.” He corrects. 
You tilt your head, rolling your eyes as well. “Don’t correct me .” You point your finger into his chest. “Or else.” It’s the least threatening experience of his life.
Your finger is in his hand a moment later and he pretends to take a bite. You try not to giggle at the gesture. You fail. You’d been ignoring your crush on Clark for months on end even though you knew he felt the same way, but something about the tension set off by the feelings you didn’t talk about made you giddy.
“Well if you really want to walk out the house looking like that, then let's go. We’re already late.” Clark’s effort is valiant not to ogle your ass in that tiny skirt. Fighting between his irritation and desire he chose to remain neutral the remainder of the night.
***
Clarks resolve lasted all of twenty minutes. You’d been catcalled at least five times and one guy even had the audacity to try and grab your ass. That’s how he ended up pinned to the wall. You were next. 
First he shoved his jacket off his broad shoulders and on to yours, still ever so gentle, even though his jaw was tense and his gaze wouldn’t find yours then he led you through the crowd. 
“If you listened to me then-” You hear from behind you.
“Then everything would be boring all the time.”You quip before he could finish. Clark wonders why you’ve been trying to upset him all night. He goes to lecture you, when you’re called away by some girls you know. 
“You know she walks all over you because you let her man.” Pete tells Clark after observing the situation. His friend is seriously whipped. 
“She doesn’t walk all over me.” Clark gruffs. 
Pete smacks his lips. “Tell her to do one thing, and I bet she won’t do it. You need to establish serious boundaries with her. Or better yet just get your girl, so y’all don’t have to do this weird dance you’ve been doing.” 
Clark wishes he could tune out Pete’s yapping. “She’s not my girl.”
“She could be.”’
*****
Clark huffs at the sight of you dancing on a table. You’re not drunk, you’ve only had one drink and yet you still manage to make yourself the center of attention. He can count three guys getting entirely too close to you. He’s already inching forward when one is reaching out to grab you, the possessive edge he’s been feeling all night taking over completely. 
“Get down.” Not a request, but he could see you were about to treat it like it was one. Before you get a chance to open your mouth he has you thrown over his shoulder. And you erupt into a fit of giggles. You can’t help it because that’s all you wanted from him anyway. A reaction. 
“Why’re you acting like this?” He asks once he puts you down and you realize he’s taken you to the bathroom. 
“I just wanted your attention, Clark.” Your tone soft as you try to swallow the smirk that wants to make its way to your face. 
Clark grips your jaw, so gently, you note, “Why didn’t you just ask for it?” His eyes boring into yours. 
“Where’s the fun in that?” You smile when he laughs, his fangs poking .
“You’re trouble.” You don’t get time to respond before his lips are on yours in a desperate kiss. 
*****
guys I'm trying to knock the rust off so don't hate too much
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robotpussy · 2 years ago
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some of the people on bridezillas are so fucking evil
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chuluoyi · 12 days ago
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄, 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄
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- zayne x reader
husband and wife, at the pinnacle of their love. on a night filled with wonders, you will know that he sees only you and everything that you are
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—fluff, explicit smut: slightly rough & drunken sex, fingering, missionary. you and zayne have a daughter (her name is meirin!)
note: god what have i written... the anniversary banner pv made me do it T^T anyhow, this is also a direct prequel to the upcoming angst fic in the name of love :))
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“Whoa, so that’s Dr. Zayne and his wife...”
Soft whispers rippled through the crowd the moment you and your husband stepped into the pristine ballroom, all eyes subtly drawn to your arrival.
Tonight, you were accompanying Zayne to Akso Hospital’s anniversary dinner party. His sharp gaze and immaculate three-piece suit made a striking impression. Naturally, you matched his sophistication in every way—your flowing black dress accentuated your figure, while your hair styled into an elegant updo.
A sight for sore eyes, that was what the two of you were.
“Mind your step,” he murmured softly, his voice reassuring as the two of you gracefully ascended the stairs. His left arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but notice the envious gazes of the ladies fixed on you.
“How does such a perfect couple even exist?”
“She’s so pretty… Of course, Dr. Zayne only wants the best.”
“Oh! And I’ve heard they already have a daughter too!”
A smile curled on your lips, a subtle boost of confidence washing over you as their murmurs reached your ears. You felt giddy too—on most days, you were a hunter in a life-and-death situations, rough and rugged. But tonight, draped in elegance and arm-in-arm with Zayne, you felt like a princess.
“Don’t smile that wide...” he suddenly whispered to your ears, a twinkle in his hazel eyes. “You’ll look like Meirin when she’s munching on her cookies.”
You shot him a frown. “Wha?”
“All those praises are going straight to your head.” Even in a prestigious event like this, Zayne couldn’t resist teasing you. “Sooner or later, it’ll get too big for me to handle.”
Fixing him with an unimpressed glare, you deadpanned, “Shush, you!”
When you reached the main hall, the buzz of conversation and clinking glasses filled the air, blending with the elegant music playing in the background. The hospital director, an elderly man with a warm smile, greeted you both along with his wife.
"Zayne, thank you for coming," he said, shaking your husband's hand and giving him a light pat on the shoulder. His gaze then turned to you. "Ah, this must be the stellar hunter wife of Dr. Zayne. You look absolutely radiant, madam."
"Ah, please don't call me that..." You mustered your most polished facade, supplying a soft, graceful laugh.
The director's wife grinned and added, "Why didn’t you bring your daughter here? Everyone’s looking forward to finally meet her already."
"She's a handful," Zayne immediately replied with a smile, his tone warm and affectionate. "And she gets fussy when her bedtime nears, so we decided to leave her with my in-laws tonight."
The director let out a hearty guffaw. "No matter how fussy she is, she must be really adorable with a mother this beautiful, eh?"
Throughout the night, it was a compliment you frequently heard. While you were flattered, a thought lingered in the back of your mind—what were your husband's true thoughts about all this attention to you?
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Zayne was keenly aware of how captivating you were.
There was a surge of pride whenever he had you on his arm. Just like any man out there, he too wanted to show his hot wife off and flaunt her so everyone could see, as if saying: This is my woman.
But he too knew that it was in a human's nature to covet what they didn't have. And it was rightly proven when he stepped away for just a moment, only to return and find you engaged in conversation with a man.
The hospital director's son, no less.
"Miss, I've heard you're part of the Hunter Association?" he asked you inquisitively. "What a noble profession it is! Keeping all of us here safe on daily basis."
You responded demurely, "And those in Akso do the same, don’t they?"
Your conversation was harmless, and Zayne was a rational man, so he didn’t feel the need to intervene. He just made sure his gaze was on you every so often.
But when the director’s son began persistently offering you drinks, filling your glass time after time, Zayne's patience began to wear thin. The sight of the man’s insistence grated on him, stirring a possessive unease he couldn’t entirely ignore.
. . .
You could’ve sworn your vision swam a little after the third glass of alcohol. The warm buzz coursing through you also made everything seem a little brighter, and left you feeling just slightly off-balance.
"Miss, the white wine here is the best—" the man standing before you declared with a convincing grin, swirling the bottle in front of you. "Don't you want to try some?"
"Ah, no, sir..." you replied with a polite laugh, raising a hand in subtle refusal. "I've already had whiskey and gin just now—"
"Just a little! You really have to try it!"
You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck as the alcohol already coursing through your system made your cheeks flush. You didn’t even like alcohol much and only drank socially, but this was the very son of your husband's boss. Refusing outright seemed rude—
“Can you kindly not make her drink too much?”
Or so you thought, until your knight in three-piece suit suddenly stepped in and saved you from your plight.
Zayne’s tone was gentle yet firm, his words striking an authoritative balance. He flashed a placating smile. “My wife doesn’t have a very high tolerance.” Swiftly, he grabbed the glass from your hand and, without missing a beat, downed its contents in one go.
“If you’re looking for a drinking partner, let it be me instead.”
You knew better than anyone that your husband didn’t have a particularly high tolerance for alcohol either. Yet, for the next 30 minutes, you watched, equal parts impressed and concerned, as he matched the man drink for drink, deflecting further offers directed your way with a subtle, protective grace. Though Zayne’s words remained measured, you could see the flush creeping up his neck.
And soon, you’d witness just how far his limits had been pushed.
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“Zayne! Are you alright?”
Worry laced your voice as you placed both hands on Zayne's cheeks, your brow furrowing in concern. Somehow or another you managed to drag your husband away and led him to the hotel room.
The warmth of his skin was unmistakable, and his face contorted in discomfort as the vertigo hit him full force. “Oh no, what have you done? Why did you even drink that much!?”
“I’m fine,” Zayne grumbled, his voice thick.
“You’re drunk!” You couldn't help but scold him as you started pulling off his coat and unbuttoning his shirt, trying to help him breathe easier. “You can’t even handle alcohol properly, and yet you’re trying to keep up with him...”
To Zayne, your voice somehow felt comforting. His mind was hazed, but your touch—your hand against his neck—felt like a cool splash of clarity.
His pretty wife... The dizziness was making it hard to stay upright, but the sight of you grounded him, and he instinctively leaned into you—
“Zayne—!”
You barely managed to catch his weight, instinctively wrapping your arms around him. He was so warm against you, his breath uneven, not to mention the slight tremor in his body. "Are you alright?!" you asked in a flurry. "Oh, let me get you some water—"
"You talk too much..." Zayne murmured, his words slurred as everything around him swayed.
Gripping your shoulder to steady himself, his unfocused gaze lingered on you, drawn to the curve of your lips, the delicate line of your neck, and the outline of your cleavage.
How can he have a wife this ravishing and do nothing?
And suddenly, he was sober. Very sober.
Or maybe not. It was simply just him finally giving in to his desires.
In one go, he seized your wrist, yanking you against him with sudden force— and with a quick tilt of your startled, precious face, he devoured your lips in heat.
"—!" It was like a spark igniting, burning through every thought. His mouth was urgent, demanding, as if he couldn’t wait another second to feel the rush of your closeness. His kiss was intoxicating—almost overwhelming—as he tangled his fingers in your hair, tilting your head to gain better access.
Zayne's hands moved to your back, pulling you into him, so close that the heat of his body pressed against yours. Then those sinful hands wandered to your hips, guiding you toward the desk. With reckless urgency, he swept everything off the surface, sending objects crashing to the floor with a sharp clang and made you sit on it.
"Ah, Zayne, you—!" You accidentally pushed him back, and he growled the moment your lips parted.
"Are you trying... to escape?" His gaze turned dark with lust, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes. "Why? Isn't this exactly how you wanted me to be...?"
In that moment, you gulped as your heart thundered in your chest. What was even happening now? How did it escalate into this?
You stuttered, eyes widened, "Z-Zayne..."
But your husband had shed all traces of his usual composed self. In the haze of his muddled thoughts, he was driven purely by need. He swiftly removed his glasses, tossing them aside without a second thought, and this time—
His lips went straight for your neck, which, unbeknownst to you, had looked so enticing to him all evening.
"Hahh..." His breathy grunts were hot against your skin and his touch no longer gentle but firm and possessive. His mouth moved with a mix of hunger and desperation, and you struggled to contain the moans as his hands slipped inside your dress, and—
A shiver ran down your spine when he spread your legs, and you couldn’t help the titillating gasp that escaped when inserted his two of his fingers in you all at once, edging you.
"Ungh, ngh! Hah—" Your body jerked and you clung to him, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. Zayne wasn't usually this brash, but tonight it was as if a screw had come loose.
"Louder," he commanded in your ear, and your heart pounded at his authoritative voice. He pushed his digits deeper as if punishing you, that you yelped. "Do not hold back."
He lifted you by your waist, effortlessly pressing you against the small table by the window. You were on the 20th floor, the world below far out of sight, but the thought that anyone might catch a glimpse was somehow... thrilling.
"I-I'm close—" you stammered, and the moment you did, your husband vigorously moved his fingers inside your squelching folds, "A-ah!"
The room felt smaller, the air thicker. The way your walls took his fingers alone made your thoughts scatter, and when you came undone on him, you latched onto him, your head resting against his chest as your breaths came in shaky, uneven gasps. "Z-Zayne... please..."
He pulled out his fingers, looked at your cum coating them, and brought them to your lips. You, still trembling, sucked the essence off with teary eyes.
Sweaty, disheveled, lips swollen and cheeks flushed... how he had reduced you into this state was gratifying.
Zayne’s gaze darkened, his breath heavy as he stared down at you. "Are you ready to take me now?"
You nodded.
He gave you a small smirk, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw gently. "Good girl."
He lifted you over to the bed, and you gasped in surprise as he tossed you onto the soft sheets, the motion quick but not unkind. You barely had time to react before his intense gaze locked onto yours, his presence domineering above you.
“Spread your legs.”
Was this man really your husband? Sometimes, you still struggled to reconcile the tender part of him and the man consumed by a unrestrained intensity before you now.
By now you had swallowed all shame and did so. You wanted to look away, but then unable to when the sight before you caught your breath—
All the while, he had his eyes on you. Zayne pulled at his tie with deliberate intent, then he shed his suit pieces, casting them to the floor with a casual abandon, before undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt, revealing his bare chest altogether.
Your husband looks so hot. The way he gazed at you throughout it all too...
He glanced at the space between your legs. “Wider.”
You complied, letting your face burn impossibly hotter, anticipating him.
He eased in slowly, starting with just the tip. You whimpered at the intrusion.
"Hurts?" he questioned with a frown.
"No," you refuted quickly, desire too burning in your gaze as you met his eyes. "I can take more."
You arched your back as Zayne sank deeper, his full length filling you. A moan tumbled from your lips as your walls clenched in response, and he pushed himself completely inside you.
"Hah..." You inhaled sharply, giving yourself a moment to adjust to his entire length, and seeing you like that, your husband cradled the side of your face with his palm.
"So beautiful..." Zayne whispered, his glazed gray-hazel eyes fixed on your spent face. His other hand clasped yours, pinning it beside your head. "My wife... is so incredibly beautiful."
It was heart-fluttering to know that your husband found you pretty. Everyone might compliment you the same way, but his were the only one that truly mattered. After seven years of marriage, your heart still skipped a beat every time he held your gaze like this.
Without warning, Zayne started to move his hips. Your moans got louder and unabashed as his movements were slow at first, before he picked up the pace and thrusted in and out of you with fervor.
"Ahhh!" You threw your head back as his thick cock messily dragged itself against your walls. In, out, in out— Stars began to blur your vision, your nails digging into his shoulder as you reached for him.
You could see that excited glint in his eyes, the lust exploding at the sight of you. He watched you intently, savoring the way unbound desire twisted your face, each mewl you made filling the air. Your thoughts turned into puzzle pieces—
Thrust. So full, you are.
Thrust. What if... this time— you become pregnant again?
Thrust. That would be... nice. You can call it “New Years’ baby.”
Everything was incoherent. Teetering on the edge of consciousness, each hit to that one spot sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, pushing you to the brink of tears and screams.
Then, unexpectedly, he reached his climax first. His cum shot through, filling your womb to the brim in spurts after spurts, and you cried, trembling beneath him. Your release followed suit though, and you went limp in the aftermath.
Zayne collapsed on top of you and you wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in the crook of his neck, his name still falling off your lips as a whisper in his ear, a gentle song laced within moans. He kissed your neck, your shoulder, panting heavily against you.
“I love you.”
The world outside seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you in a tangled web of desire.
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The first thing he heard was your whimper.
With a groan, Zayne cracked his eyes open the morning after, instantly recognizing the dull ache in his head—it was a hangover. But before he could press his hands to his temples, his gaze fell on you, curled up in a blanket next to him.
And the whimper came again, and it tugged at something deep inside him.
“What’s... wrong?” he asked in a groggy voice, turning toward you, his hand instinctively reaching for you despite the pounding headache. “Are you alright...?”
You blinked up at him, a flicker of resentment in your gaze, and Zayne gathered you into his arms. The events of last night came back to him in fragments, and realization dawned on him.
“Are you... sore?” he murmured, concern edging his tone.
“I hate you,” you retorted in a scratchy voice, mushing your head in his shoulder. Zayne widened in slight surprise, pulling you closer into his embrace.
“Is that it...? I’m sorry...”
He gently patted your head and back, trying to soothe you. The sight of you—vulnerable and distressed—made his heart tighten with a pang of guilt. Just how rough had he been with you last night?
“There, there, it’ll pass...” he said quietly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “It’s normal... because we went longer and more vigorous than usual... Probably just mild irritation in your—”
“Don’t pull medical facts on me,” you muttered sullenly, weakly punching his chest. A smile made its way to his face at your mini attack.
“But it’s true though?”
How endearing. He couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest, his heart softening at the sight of you, even in your grumpy state.
And in that moment, Zayne thought, nothing could've possibly ever shatter his world ever again.
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sttoru · 8 months ago
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. bragging about your oh-so-perfect boyfriend to your friends certainly has its (welcomed) consequences. . .
tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff & smut. p in v -> unprotected. missionary. sweet but also nasty and condescending. creampie. body worship. size difference / - kink. nicknames ‘(little) princess, baby’. name calling once. not proof read bcs im sleepy. wc. 2k+
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“right! he’s so thoughtful,” you sigh dreamily as you chat with your friends over the phone. you’re laying on satoru’s bed, kicking your feet up while you remove your make-up. of course, you had to call your girls to tell them all about the little date you just had with your boyfriend.
satoru’s in the shower, so you’re taking the time to relive the experience.
“here she goes again y’all,” one of your friends sighs dramatically, to which the others follow with giggles of their own. they know that you can go on and on about your partner. they’ve heard all of it before.
you grin and roll your eyes, rubbing the cleansing wipe over your lips, removing the light pink gloss you had on. you’re all giddy as you recall what satoru has done and given to you this evening. you’ve been pampered—spoiled rotten.
“hey! don’t blame me,” you retort with a chuckle. your friends laugh and urge you to go on since they’re only joking. the stories you tell are always either adorable or heartwarming, and thus they’re happy to listen. plus, debriefing you on your love life is free entertainment.
it’s not unusual for you to stray from the main story. you ramble about the restaurant you’ve visited, the pretty green scenery you’ve walked past, the museum you’ve visited, the way satoru paid for everything and how he made sure to pick activities you’re interested.
you get an occasional ‘aww’ or ‘cuteee’ when you mention your boyfriend’s loving gestures. from the enormous bouquet of flowers he’s gotten you, to the fact that he carried you back into his apartment the moment you told him your feet were hurting.
walking in heels wasn’t the smart move you thought it was, though luckily you had a thoughtful lover by your side.
“he’s just so handsome ‘n stuff. god—“ you squeal, not even bothering to dampen your excitement. you hide your face behind your hands for a split second, gaining a few fan girling squeaks from your friends as well. they’re happy that you’re being treated like deserved.
you don’t hear the door of the bedroom open since you’re too busy gushing about satoru. you’re focused on your small pocket mirror, careful not to forget a spot on your face. you notice that your friends have gone quiet, but you don’t question it.
“his gentle personality is honestly such a turn-on,” you mumble as you rub off the concealer from under your eyes, “and his subtle yet possessive touches? phew, don’t get me started.” you continue to babble on about how hot satoru is when he gets mad, unable to point out a flaw.
you’re about to comment on your friends’ sudden silence when a hand lands on your shoulder. you freeze and finally make eye contact with no one other than satoru—hovering over you from behind. he’s smiling down at you and mumbles a quick, ‘hey, baby’, before kissing your forehead.
you try to explain the situation, yet have no idea where to start. you can hear a friend of yours snickering and another faintly whisper an ‘oh, girl. . .’
before you have the ability to get another word out, satoru cuts you off, waving at your front camera for a second. his smile reaches his eyes and his dimples show;
“hey ladies, mind if i steal my girl from you?” satoru asks as he puts an arm around you. he places his cheek against yours, awaiting an answer. your friends are left speechless at the sudden turn of events.
the white-haired man appears extremely good on screen. he’s basically blessing them with his handsome looks. the towel hanging over his head indicates that he just came out of a fresh shower. there’s a visible vein running down his neck—nearly bulging out of the skin—as if satoru’s holding himself back.
once your friends snap out of their daze, they greet satoru and nod, exchanging quick ‘see you later’s. your boyfriend thanks them with another one of his charming smiles. he waves at the camera again, “bye bye, thank you.”
the call ends and the bedroom falls quiet. you stare at your screen which fades to black, completely dumbfounded. you quickly sit up—your mind a chaotic mess full of thoughts.
“satoru, i uhm, i didn’t know—“ you attempt to form an explanation, though you realise that it’s likely futile. satoru’s probably heard every word that left your mouth. you look up at him, your voice a quiet whisper, “how much did you hear?”
the sorcerer grins. he’s so enamored with you; everything you do is adorable. he grabs your hands and holds then into his larger ones—thumbs gently rubbing your skin. he pulls them up to his lips so he could place chaste kisses on your knuckles.
“everything, princess,” satoru hums, rotating your hands to place kisses on the inside of your wrists. there’s a subtle blush on his cheeks that even reaches his ears. no matter how calm and collected he may seem, he’s still but a complete sucker to your love, “talking about me to your little friends, hm? how cute.”
a shiver runs down your spine. you feel your tummy turn as you’re slowly guided onto your back. multiple kisses cover your body—from head to toe—like a canvas getting painted on. satoru’s taking his sweet time, admiring the art that’s your physique.
every piece of clothing that comes off is a step closer to the grande revelation. the masterpiece that is you. moving from one empty spot - filling it with his kisses - to another. sighs of content leave your lover’s mouth with each reveal, as if he hasn’t seen the sight of your naked body before.
“does this turn you on, baby? my ‘subtle touches’?” satoru mutters against your breasts, remembering your earlier words. his blue eyes stare up at you through his white lashes. not wearing his blindfold may overstimulate him due to his abilities, but he’ll risk anything if it’s to admire you the best he can.
he chuckles when you nod. your boyfriend kisses your hard nipples—taking his time to swirl his tongue around both of them just to feel your back arch off the mattress. your hands holding onto him for life is extremely thrilling. “it turns me on too,” satoru confesses quietly. his slender fingers reach the hem of your panties, “you turn me on so fuckin’ much.”
your breath hitches when your underwear gets tossed somewhere across the room. you’re dripping, obviously. there’s no way you couldn’t get turned on by the way satoru’s been worshipping your entire being.
you can also see the effect you have on him; he’s sweating. the vein on his neck seems to grow more visible when your cunt is revealed to him.
“there she is,” satoru grins in satisfaction. he seems to be in a daze for a second before he regains composure. he looks at you for a quick check, needing to know if he has your consent before he continues. the moment you nod, your lover separates your legs.
you sniff and try to hide your embarrassed expression behind a hand. satoru’s quick to pin your wrist above your head so you wouldn’t have the chance to do any of that. “keep your eyes on me, yeah?” he leans in to place a swift kiss on your lips.
“mhm,” you nod after returning the peck. the white-haired man utters a small ‘thank you’ and undoes his sweatpants with his free hand. he fumbles with his boxers—unable to keep himself from trembling in pleasure from the view alone.
your small body underneath him is a sight he’ll never get tired of. that face of yours morphing into one of pleasure whenever you’re intimate is one of his favorite things to witness. thus why the missionary is his go to position.
“c’mon,” satoru kisses your cheek as he manages to pull his erected cock out of his underwear. it’s standing tall, the tip pointing right at the place it wants to be buried at—your wet, warm and inviting pussy, “you were so loud when talking with y’r friends ‘n now you’ve gone quiet on me.”
satoru pouts, “it’s not fair. i wanna hear my princess too.”
you almost choke on your spit because of how whiny yet demanding satoru sounds. you feel his fingers intertwine with yours, firmly holding your hand down above your head. you’re still flustered by the entire situation. you open your mouth as tears gather in your eyes, “i’m sorry, i’m jus— ngh!”
you can’t even get your words out. the lewd feeling of satoru rubbing his tip between your folds completely catches you off guard. he grins, as if he planned on doing that the moment you tried to speak. he’s such a tease.
“shh, shh, i know,” satoru coos mockingly, acting like he’s not doing it on purpose. you can’t blame the man; he’s been rock hard ever since he heard you praise him so openly through the phone. your lovely voice speaking so highly of him was driving him nuts.
you’re so appreciative for all he’s doing and it makes the sorcerer want to spoil you even more. to give you the love and affection you deserve because of how precious you are—even if you don’t realise it.
he wants to give you more. more, more, more.
without thinking, satoru pushes his cock right through your tight cunt. he shudders at the sight of your poor, small pussy struggling to take his fat dick. he can’t hurt you, he knows. especially with the amount of times the bulbous head of his cock nearly bruised your cervix.
though, it’s difficult not to go all out. you’re so accepting of everything he does—satoru can see that by the way your eyes stare at him. it’s all love. the light reflecting in your pupils makes them sparkle beautifully. he cusses under his breath, “y’re so pretty, baby. fuck, fuck, fuck. y’re making it so hard.”
satoru tries his best not to plunge his cock all the way to the hilt. he reaches halfway with each thrust, the thwacking sound increasing by the second. your legs automatically wrap around his waist and your fingers squeeze his.
“toruuu, fmhh, so big,” you babble, the drool forming in the corners of your lips threatening to drip down your chin. each soft yet firm thrust seems to resonate within you, evoking a sense of pleasurable contentment.
satoru lets out a haughty chuckle at the sight of you going cockdrunk already. he’s still trying to hold his urges back by focusing on your satisfaction alone. “i’ll give you something else to brag ‘bout to y’r friends,” he pants with a confident smirk, kissing your jawline as he ruts into you,
you’re embarrassed by your current predicament. despite that, you find yourself enjoying every consequence that your actions have caused. your moans echo in satoru’s ears, each slap of your bodies connecting sounding twice as loud.
his thick cock is stretching you out so well. your cunt is working overtime to make space for every inch. your boyfriend gently bites your bottom lip, his breath faltering when you clench around him in response.
“‘re ya gonna tell them?” satoru asks through a guttural moan. his hips move non-stop, aiming to please you until you lose your mind. he’ll live up to the expectations set no matter what. he kisses the swell of your breasts, “are ya gonna tell ‘em how you let your ‘lovely’ boyfriend fuck you like this? how y’re a complete slut for his cock?”
you don’t know how to react to his dirty talk. it’s getting you wetter, that’s for sure. your thighs shake around his waist and your tummy feels like it’s doing flips. satoru doesn’t leave it there, “gonna tell them about how good i fill you up, yeah? dirty little girl telling all her friends about our private life, tsk tsk.”
it’s overwhelming. the sudden increase in dirty talk makes you want to cum on spot. you feel like you’re being degraded, however satoru’s touches make you feel appreciated and loved. his hand holding yours above your head never leaves you—a sign that this is still him making love to you.
“am—am not gonna,” you hiccup. the words simply roll of your tongue without much thought. you’re mindlessly responding to your lover. “am not gonna tell them anything,” you continue before cutting yourself off with a string of whiny moans when satoru plays with your clit.
satoru shakes his head, increasing the pressure and speed in which he’s pumping into you. he loves the view of you being so helpless—succumbing to the pleasure he’s granting you. “sureeee, i believe you,” your boyfriend snickers and pushes his pulsing cock in further. his tone is soft but condescending, “i’ll trust my little princess to keep her mouth shut f’me.”
you’re getting so close. your nails dig into his skin and your noises get louder. you’re right on the edge of euphoria. the clit stimulation along with the feeling of being filled to the brim is enough to make you see stars.
satoru nods at your desperate whimpers that alarm him that you’re close to climax. “i got you, baby. cum f’me—i got you,” he places sloppy kisses all over your face and rams his cock in and out of you in a stronger rhythm. there’s nothing satoru wants to do in this world more than to flood your insides with his cum.
his cock doesn’t stop prodding at your sweet spots and it’s making you approach that peak; the peak of pleasure that’s going to push you over the edge. you hold tightly onto your lover and he doesn’t hesitate to return the embrace. “it’s okay, do it f’me,” satoru encourages you once again through a husky whisper.
you’re thankful that you have such an attentive partner. he can go from teasing you to comforting you and it’s the most reassuring thing ever. you’ve never had a man hold you so intimately while he’s balls deep into you.
“g’nna cum,” a strangled moan leaves your throat when you try to speak. your chests are pressed together and your heartbeats match—like the perfect pair you are. satoru feels his balls clench with an aching feeling, needing to release every last drop they have stored into your tiny cunt.
just thinking about the way you were bragging about him again, is enough. “take it—fuuuckk—take it all, baby,” the white-haired man takes a deep breath in and can’t help but bury his entire dick inside of you, that one last thrust making you yelp.
you reach your climaxes at the exact same time. your fluids mix as you feel satoru’s thick spurts of cum coat your insides a sticky white. your body spasms and your boyfriend instantly soothes you by rubbing your back. his own legs are trembling a little, but you’re far more important.
you don’t utter a word and simply focus on regaining your energy. all that you can say are incoherent babbles. “easy,” satoru kisses the corners of your eyes and relishes in the fact that he’s fucked you full of his cum. it’s a reminder of just how much he loves you.
a few encouraging words and hugs later and you’ve calmed down. you don’t fully grasp the reality of the situation until the adrenaline and other hormones drop down to a normal level.
you’re suddenly reminded by your previous words and this time, you succeed in hiding your face into the crook of satoru’s neck.
it’s certain that he’s greatly enjoyed overhearing you talk about him to your friends, but it’s still a somewhat embarrassing memory you wish to forget. “not a word, please. j-jus act like you haven’t heard anything,” you mumble quietly now that you’ve come down from your high.
satoru laughs softly. he can’t help but tease you after that—it’s a given. you’re still so caught up on what happened and it’s endearing.
however, satoru wouldn’t be him if he didn’t tease you about your little comments. without pulling out, he tilts his head back and stares down at you with a faint grin, “do i have to act like i haven’t fucked you silly just now too?”
“satoru!”
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lokissweater · 2 months ago
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promise
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{mlb!megumi fushiguro x f!reader}
summary: halloween calls for pumpkin carving, cliche horror movies, and most importantly, a penthouse halloween party— only the best of the best invited amongst the world of professional athletes and teams, and you looking forward to this event and giddy as you stood in the ambiance of fake spiderwebs and skeletons…. but megumi is tested. patience running thin when every single man there seemed to track you like a dog, and you thrown off when a certain megumi admirer crosses the line with her absurd words and phrasing… unbeknownst to you that she had it out for you, planning schemes to get what she wants and stopping at nothing to get it— and what she wants being something that already belonged to you… megumi fushiguro.
warnings: MDNI. FLUUUFFF, angst, JEALOUSYYY YEESH, mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of inebriation, afab!reader, cursing, use of y/n, pet names, penthouse party, FERAL SMUUTT, dom reader AND dom megumi HEEE, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), bondage, creampie, scary halloween sex, megumi is COOCKOO IN THE COCONUTS, reader is bratty, megumi is a jealous freak, all characters are aged up.
word count: 19.8k
authors note: OKAAAYYY MLB!MEGUMI FOOOUURRR AAAHHH THIS IS CRAZZZYYY !! LETS ALL COME TOGETHER AND PRAAYYY for what y’all are about to read, and i hope you all LOVEE ITT AND THIRST WITHH MEEE !!! UGH this was an absolute privilege to write for you all and i can only hope once again that i delivered !! <333 I LOVE YOU SOOOO SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR ALL OF YOUR LOVE AND SUPPORT !! <333 MWAAAHHH !!
i highly advise you to read the other parts of this series or else you won’t be able to understand some of the storyline and references :( you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!
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“what’s that baby.”
you leaned away from the mirror and looked at megumi, him sat patiently and content on the edge of the tub as he watched you do your makeup.
“this?” you held up your mascara wand and he nodded. “mascara gumi! it goes on my lashes and helps them look preeettyyy.”
you looked to the mirror and leaned over the sink again, dipping the mascara wand in the tube, muttering. “or at least i hope it does…”
megumi huffed a breath of amused air through his nose. “it does.”
you grinned, stepping away from the sink and walking over to him as you extended an arm, offering the little wand.
“wanna help mee?”
he pinched his brows momentarily before reaching and taking it from your waiting hand, mumbling. “i don’t know how baby… i don’t wanna poke your eye.”
you laughed a little and perched yourself up on his lap gently, megumi readjusting so you’d be comfortable and placing a cold hand on your thigh.
“you won’t gumi! i’ll show you look—”
you took the wand back from him and raised the bristle to your eye, sliding it up slowly against your lash as megumi focused his gaze on what you were doing, face so serious that it made you giggle.
“here! you try.” you smiled sweetly, passing it back to him as you excitedly waited for him to copy what you did.
he brought the bristle to your other eye, fingers coming up to gently hold your jaw and keep you in place as he brought up the wand, delicately running the mascara over your lashes with precision.
you stared at him, the way his deep blue eyes tracked his own movements so carefully with furrowed eyebrows as you could tell he was trying his hardest to stay away from your actual eyeball, you finding it difficult to stay still and not swoon over his striking features that never failed to hinder your normal brainy functions— his face close to yours.
“gumi.”
“hm?”
“your lashes are so beautiful.”
the side of his lip curled up in amusement.
“they’re.. eyelashes.”
“lucious eyelashes my god…” you murmured as he moved the bristles away from you and lowered his hand. “they’re so long and sexy.”
he snorted and lifted his hand to give you back the wand, you happily taking it as he then mushed your cheeks together with his fingers and kissed your puckered lips.
“you almost ready.”
“yes!” you responded, standing from his lap and walking over to the sink to take a look at his work, giving him a cheeky thumbs up at the results with a cute smile before dipping the bristles back in the shiny gold tube, coating a bit more of the product on your lash for a fuller look.
halloween was one of your most favorite holidays of the year, right next to valentine’s day and megumi’s birthday as the overall feel of horror, carved pumpkins, and cheesy gore just did something to you that made you sickeningly giddy and riled up whenever you and megumi participated in fall activities each year.
and today was just that— you and your boyfriend getting ready (well mostly you) for a halloween party taking place just about an hour from now, going as a couples costume that consisted of you dressed up as a slutty cupid and him one of your victims, his simple white long sleeved button up and black pants all it was since you didn’t have the heart to make him wear an actual costume, knowing he would probably be embarrassed by it and keep the fact from you.
but the event you were attending wasn’t just any halloween party.
it was the fucking halloween party for any professional athlete across the globe, exclusive as hell, and teams from literally everywhere invited as long as they were the best of the best and honed in several winning titles under their belts— megumi and his team being no exception as they got invited every single year with the event manager practically begging megumi and yuji in particular to attend, but megumi always missing out every year due to his general dislike for parties.
but you loved parties. and he knew that.
and seeing how upset you got last year not being able to go because one of your professors decided to be a dick and assign an exam the day of halloween—
megumi silently made sure that this year you both would be able to go, regardless of what he thought about parties so as long as you were there.
“i just need to put on my corset and wings.” you screwed the mascara tube shut. “i’ll be back!—”
“you’re not changing in here?” he asked confusedly.
“…no.”
“why not.”
“because i need privacy gumi.”
he gave you a deadpanned look. “i’ve seen you naked baby.”
a fiery pink blush rose to your cheeks as you started stiffly side stepping closer to the door.
“okay?” you pursed your lips. “water is wet. the sky is blue. i’m horny because of your costume—”
megumi laughed loudly as your voice trailed off down the hall, you skipping into his room and throwing your top off over your head so you could put on your cherry red corset, it already fucking suffocating you and you hadn’t even tied the laces yet as you quickly slipped on your white thigh high socks and little wings, running down the hall again back to the restroom.
“oh my god i can’t breathe—”
“jesus christ.”
“what?!” you froze and looked down at your costume. “what does it look bad? do i look trashy? do i look stupid—”
“no baby no.” megumi spoke gently, embarrassed that he accidentally let his reaction slip. “s’cute. i like it.”
you smiled sweetly, nodding and turning to look at the mirror to lace up your corset— each tug and pull from your hands only pushing your godly tits further up and up and up until megumi had to grip the sides of the tub to keep himself from grabbing you and taking your white mini skirt off, your soft tits now sitting pretty and puffy at the top of your corset with a tied lacey bow.
you breathed in deeply as you set your hands on your hips, barely even having room to properly exhale as you tried to get yourself accustomed to it.
“i’m gonna die.”
megumi chuckled and stood, walking over to you and settling his long arms around your waist, pulling you in.
“loosen it a little baby.” he leaned to the side to look at your skirt, one hand coming down to tug at it. “is this how short it is?”
“yup!” you cheekily grinned, pecking his rosy cheek. “i’m going as a little slut.”
he playfully rolled his eyes and smoothed his hands over the material of your corset, eyes wanting to lock themselves straight with your tits again but refraining himself from doing so.
“and halloween is like my religion gumi.” you propped your chin up on his chest. “it’d be a disgrace if i loosened up my corset like a freaking loser.”
megumi laughed, his pearly smile making your heart flutter as you stood up on your tippy toes and kissed him.
“kay, you ready?”
he looked at you confusedly. “for what?”
“for the lipstick kisses!” you stepped away from his arms and dug into your makeup bag on the counter. “it’s part of your costume baby it’s like i made you fall in love but with me ‘cause i’m cupid and i shot you with an arrow and now you love me and stuff…”
megumi watched you pull out your red lipstick and unscrew the top, sliding the end of it over your lips carefully before pressing them into a thin line and spreading the product around, leaning back from the mirror.
you turned to him. “ready ready?”
he nodded and let you tug him down by his collar, you undoing a few buttons from the top so his chest would show as you moved and pressed a gentle but solid kiss to his collarbone.
and megumi took note of then that you never really had to do anything for him to get riled up, because you being you and with each little kiss that trailed up his neck and left behind scattered red lipstick marks, had him blushing furiously and looking to the side, a particular peck to the edge of his adam’s apple causing him to harshly suck in a breath through his nose.
megumi loved halloween.
you finished with a kiss to his jaw, pulling back and eyes lighting up at the sight of him covered in your red smooches, you gently nudging him to look in the mirror.
“you look so cuuutee guumiii!” you gushed, a silly smile on your face as you admired your work and pointed at him funnily through the mirror, but faltering and head snapping in his direction once you saw his blank blinking eyes.
“what?” you asked softly, brows furrowed in concern. “are you okay? do you not like it? i could— i could take it off—”
you went to reach for the makeup wipes in your bag until megumi caught your wrist and yanked you forward, dropping his face into your breasts and biting down on a puffy tit as you gasped.
“gumi!” you laughed, hands pushing at his chest as he dragged a long wet stripe up from your boob to the side of your neck. “not right now!”
“why not.” he mumbled, pulling your waist in again and biting down on the side of your neck, his mouth traveling back to your tits. “i’ll be fast.”
your cheeks grew hot as he gnawed and bit over your boobs, your body melting with each lick and little by little giving in to him as you felt yourself dazedly lean forward into his chest.
but the party.
“w— won’t we be late?” you asked softly, thighs clamping together at the way he slipped his hand up your skirt to grope your ass.
“just a little pretty baby…” he murmured against your skin, fingers slowly creeping under your panties. “wanna feel you around my—”
a blaring chime rang through the bathroom, your phone vibrating against the counter as you tried to pull away from megumi and retrieve it.
“my— baby my phone—”
“leave it.”
“but it’s my best friend—”
you extended a strained arm, outstretched fingers clawing to grab at your phone as he continued to assault your neck and tits, almost knocking it off the counter instead as you alternately decided to put your phone on speaker, tapping your finger on the screen to answer the call with your frame still utterly caged in megumi’s arms.
“hel—”
“y/n oh my god please help me!”
your eyebrows furrowed in concern while you literally wrestled with your boyfriend at this point to let you go, him snickering and biting down harder on your skin as you giggled.
“what— what happened?”
“i can’t lace up my costumeee!” she whined. “are you at megumi’s place still?! yuji doesn’t know how to do it he almost snapped the ribbon twice and i can’t see because it’s on my back and we’re gonna be fucking late—”
you gasped. “oh no— yes! yes i am hurry so i can help you—”
“perfect i’m already at the door—”
megumi huffed, rolling his eyes as he straightened up and softly let you go, you looking up at him with apologetic eyes and reaching up to caress his cheek.
“i’m sorry gumi… we can have sex when we get back!”
“you can— what?!” your girl friend shrieked over the phone, both of megumi’s hands slapping over your mouth with blushing cheeks. “you freaks open the damn door!”
“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry!—”
megumi laughed and kissed your forehead, dropping his hands and turning to leave the bathroom to get the door as your girl friend still yelled over the other line— a combination of what you had said and about her corset until you actually heard her in person down the hallway through the living room.
“y/n help me please dear god— move megumi—”
fast clicking heels echoed down the hall until they reached you, your best friend heaving as she slumped against the door frame with a trail of dark blue ribbon behind her, the corset of her slutty police officer costume loose around her body as she clutched it against herself.
“i’m so scared the ribbon is gonna snap.” she breathed out. “yuji pulled it so fucking hard i heard a rip—”
“is it okay?!”
yuji ran into the bathroom as soon as you ushered her in and gently turned her around, inspecting the ribbon.
“babe i’m sorry i’m so sorry please forgive me—”
“why did you keep tightening it when i told you to stop?” your girl friend stressed, holding onto the edge of the counter as you proceeded to lace up her corset.
“i don’t know i’m stupid i’m sorry—”
“it’s fine—”
“no i need the death penalty right now—”
megumi appeared behind yuji then with a cold look on his face, arms crossed as he leaned against the hallway wall and listened to the commotion happening in his own fucking apartment that annoyingly hindered the moment he was having with you minutes prior.
“you guys the ribbon is okay.” you began, quickly fastening it through various loops and crosses. “there was a little tear in it but not that bad! it shouldn’t give out.”
they both breathed out a dramatic sigh of relief and you giggled at that, finishing up the lacing with a cute bow at the bottom that matched yours and stepping back, your girl friend happily looking at the ribbon through the mirror then before throwing her arms around your neck and giving you a big kiss on the cheek.
“i love you thank you!”
“mhm!” you sweetly responded, looking over and readjusting the rest of her costume as she started pinning down her little police officer hat, yuji guiltily sulking in the back and megumi disappearing off somewhere.
“babe i told you it’s okay!” your best friend laughed, turning around to ruffle up his pink hair. “it didn’t rip that much and you didn’t mean to at all either.”
he nodded and kissed her cheek, running a hand up and down her side.
“i know i just feel bad… i would’ve fucked up your costume.”
she shrugged, running her hands over his white ribbed tank top. “and we would’ve figured something else out! i was already thinking of using my shoe laces instead.”
you laughed a bit, the sight of yuji wearing bright orange prison pants with his top a funny one as your best friend reached into the back pocket of her shorts to pull out her phone, you fixing over the straps of your little cupid wings in the mirror.
“i’m gonna down every single fucking fruity drink i see.” you spoke excitedly. “oh! you guys do they still do the bottle sparkler drinks you told me about? the ones they bring out and light on fire and—”
“yeaahhh!” yuji exclaimed. “they do holy fuck i’m getting in line for that i don’t care if i black out drunk you only live once—”
your girl friends sudden gasp made you both jump and look at her.
“oh my god—” she frantically scrolled through her phone. “oh my god we have to go we have to go—”
“what?!” you peered over her shoulder to try and look at her screen. “why?! what happened what— are we too late—”
she spun around and grabbed your shoulders. “the— the nfl cheerleaders! they showed up y/n the fucking cheerleaders—”
“oh my god!” you quickly shoved your scattered about makeup into your bag and flung your curler and straightener under the sink. “we have to go we have to go we need to butter our way in this is our chance to be one of them—”
“oh my god oh my god—” she hurriedly pinned her toy badge to her chest before snatching yuji’s hand and running out of the bathroom, yelling from down the hall. “we’ll meet you guys there y/n! call me as soon as you park!”
“okay!” you called back, megumi soon after silently appearing with your cherry red mary jane pumps— dangling loosely from his fingers.
“oh my goodness thank you gumi i couldn’t find those!” you tumbled out quickly, following his lead when he guided you to sit down on the edge of the tub, him getting down on a knee and lifting your ankle up to slip and strap your heels on for you.
“did you hear?” you grinned, bouncing in your spot. “the nfl cheerleaders showed up.”
he chuckled lowly. “i did baby. i heard all the way from my room.”
you bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a squeal, megumi gently setting down one ankle and lifting the other.
“would you still love me if i was a cheerleader for the nfl.”
he snorted. “yes. why wouldn’t i?”
“because i’m betraying the mlb.” you pouted, him finished now and looking up at you with a tiny smile. “but it’s not my fault you guys don’t have cheerleaders! i would’ve tried out a long time ago if you did…”
he looked at you amusedly before kissing your lips and standing, helping you up on your heels with a hand and leading you out of the bathroom over to the living room.
“would you still love me if i was in football instead of baseball?” he asked, grabbing his keys from the counter and leaning down to tie his shoes.
you gave him a bewildered look.
“gumi i’d still love you even if you killed people for a living.” you mumbled. “or if you had a criminal record. or if you committed arson for fun. or even if you straight up didn’t love me back i’d probably stalk you—”
megumi laughed loudly and stood back up, shaking his head and pinching your little cheek at your last comment before opening the front door and stepping out with you.
“i wouldn’t mind that.”
you giggled. “you wouldn’t?”
he shook his head, a sly smile spreading across his face.
“i’d do worse.”
the only thing you all really knew about the whereabouts of the party, was that it was annually hosted at a penthouse in the city by an event manager who was obsessed with professional sports teams, but the details of exactly who’s penthouse was unknown… only that it was the biggest social event of the year with open bars and smoke machines and cocktail waitresses at every corner— any player who was someone in their respective sport always in attendance.
you had heard about it many times before through yuji and your best friend before you had officially met megumi, you every year wanting to go so bad but far too intimidated by the type of crowd that it was to actually show up, doomed to watch their stories on social media and the cheerleaders you followed having the time of their lives doing shots from a cut in half bamboo pole with various others in a line— moping around in your room with nothing better to do.
but now you were eternally grateful that you finally got to go with none other than the person you loved most in your life, not wanting it any other way as megumi contently listened to you excitedly ramble and look through social media stories of the players already there in his passenger seat, interlaced fingers on the center console as he occasionally raised and kissed the back of your hand.
and upon arriving at the penthouse and leaving your vehicles at the parking garage, all of you were amazed to see that there was a line wrapped around the fucking building and down the street as you walked up, you nervous now for some reason while skipping through the entire line and going towards the security guard inside the lobby.
and you’ve always admired and taken pride in the fact that megumi was the best at his sport and was recognized immensely for it despite his indifferent stoic image… but even more so now as the security guard didn’t even have to listen to yuji say who they were as he stepped to the side and pointed down the hall.
“last elevator to your left, button goes straight up. have a great night.”
you all thanked him and walked over to the elevator, piling in and pressing the golden lit button to the top floor before the doors gradually slid closed.
“if the bamboo shots already happened i’m gonna be pissed.” you mumbled, yuji and your best friend groaning in agreement as they chatted and watched the number in the elevator screen rise to thirty five and still going.
“if the bar runs out of those tiki cocktail mugs before we get there i’m actually gonna start fighting with the bartenders this time—”
“no you’re not.” your best friend cut yuji off as she laughed, lightly slapping his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his torso after.
you felt megumi nudge you and you looked, his head coming down and placing his lips to the side of your ear.
“try not to lose me baby.” he murmured. “call me if you do please. or look for yuji’s stupid bright pants.”
“hey!” he whined. “i heard that…”
you giggled hard and nodded, standing on your tippy toes to give him a cute kiss on the cheek.
“kay gumi!”
and the doors slid open just then, music blasting through and startling you and megumi as he grabbed your hand to interlock your fingers, your eyes shining like constellations at the massive scene before you as you all stepped inside— the entire penthouse lit in a dark purple neon hue with hanging skeletons and bats on the walls, fake spiderwebs hung at every corner and yellow caution tape strewn about, absolutely everyone dressed up and not a single one in regular attire as you navigated through the crowd, foggy air over the floor that sweeped and swayed with every movement.
and the walls were tall and humongous, a particular side playing a montage of various teams and specific players’ best moments of their season on a projector screen, your eyes immediately focusing to see if you could spot megumi in any of the flashing videos.
a cocktail waitress passed by with a tray of shots then, multiple hands coming from the crowd to take as your group did as well and downed them back, megumi scrunching up his face in distaste as he coughed into his elbow and put the shot glass back on the tray, you rubbing a comforting hand over his back.
“loooser!” your best friend teased and pointed at him, megumi scowling and slapping her hand away from his face before swinging an arm around your hip.
“no that shit was actually nasty..” you gagged, the rest of you following suit and placing the shot glasses back on the tray before the cocktail waitress disappeared somewhere in the crowd, yuji nodding in agreement.
“that’s why i hog the tiki bar every year— oh shit!—” he quickly whipped his head around with wide eyes. “babe babe my tiki mug where the fuck is the tiki bar?!”
“the fire! the fire!” your girl friend pointed up ahead, all of you turning your heads to see a crowded bar adorned with hibiscus flowers and actual lit torches, multiple bartenders behind the counter booked and busy as they mixed alcohols and shook their barrel shakers to serve drinks.
“oh there’s actually fire...” megumi mumbled. “indoors.”
you gasped. “oh my god gumi let’s go let’s go!” you grabbed his wrist with two hands and gently tugged him forward, a beaming smile on your face. “i want a tiki mug too!”
he laughed a little, nodding as you all started walking over to the bar, yuji literally shoving his way through to the front until the upper half of his body was toppled over the counter with flat palms on the surface.
“tiki mug!” he breathed out to the bartenders. “tiki mug is there still tiki mugs?!”
“itadori!” one of them greeted with a smile, his eyes flickering over to megumi. “and fushiguro?! i’ve never seen you at one of these! ever!”
megumi’s expression read nothing as he only nodded curtly, yuji impatiently waiting for the bartender to answer his question as he looked like he was about to rip his hair out, your best friend laughing.
“congrats on winning the world series last year!” he spoke again before reaching under the bar. “and for the mlb, of course i have tiki mugs!”
“oh thank god thank you i love you mister bartender!” yuji slumped against the counter with a hand over his heart.
“so what drink with it?” he lined up four tiki mugs on the bar. “i could do a piñacolada, blue hawaii, tropical bay breeze—”
“oh! could i do a blue hawaii please?” you asked politely, the bartender nodding and taking the rest of your orders before quickly getting to work and mixing alcohols together.
“megumi i’ll take your mug if you don’t want it!” yuji mentioned hopefully, tail basically wagging like a little dog.
“i’m giving it to y/n.”
“fuck!”
you giggled and patted his shoulder. “it’s okay! you can have it. just let me drink his drink first though heh.”
“oh thank you!” yuji threw his arms around your neck and you stumbled back, megumi quickly placing his hands on your waist to stabilize you. “you don’t understand every year i come to this damn party and there’s never tiki mugs i’ve been saved—”
“babe you’re not letting her breathe get off!” your girl friend laughed, tugging at his ribbed tank before he released you and spun around, engulfing her instead.
“sorry! arrest me!”
“yu!”
“cuff me but the fuzzy pink ones i like those—”
“you’re disgusting.” megumi mumbled.
your girl friend shot him a glare.
“says the one who fucks my best friend every night and makes her say the most outrageous things—”
you screamed and covered your reddening horrified face, megumi shutting up instantly with wide eyes and pink cheeks as yuji and your girl friend reeled over and cackled.
“blue hawaii! tropical bay breeze! rum punch! bahama mama!”
each tiki mug was stacked onto the bar with a thud after every call— full and foamy with colorful liquid and little umbrella picks adorning them as they were pushed towards you, yuji profusely thanking the nice bartender and almost jumping over the counter too as he grabbed his mug.
you took a sip of your drink and lit up, immediately slurping the rest of your blue hawaii and downing it like it’s fucking water and not straight up alcohol as megumi watched you with shocked amused eyes.
“you like it baby?” he softly asked, taking tiny sips of his rum punch and surprisingly liking it, offering it out to you. “you wanna try mine?”
you swallowed a big gulp and quickly nodded. “yes! please gumi.”
you both switched drinks, trying each others and you loving his even more as megumi gently turned you around and wrapped his unoccupied arm over your tummy, tugging your back to rest against his front as you chatted with your friends and tried to hear each other over the loud music (and megumi trying to ignore the stares you got from random weird men..), your eyes occasionally drifting over the crowd and spotting several different star players.
most consisted of the nfl, but there were a good amount from the nba and other teams from the mlb— even volleyball and hockey as you recognized some of their faces from reruns that played on your tv or the highlights you saw through your social media platforms, you a bit star struck when you saw particular ones your were a fan of casually walk by the tiki bar next to you.
you reached a hand out and tapped your girl friend.
“have you seen the cheerleaders yet?!” you yelled over the music, shoulders slumping when she sadly shook her head no.
“i’m gonna actually start crying in front of all of these people if i don’t see at least one.” she stressed. “we need to start looking in the crowd—”
a sudden jolt stumbled you and megumi forward, the both of you craning your heads around.
“i’m so sorry!” a girl gasped. “i didn’t see where—”
she oddly stopped, megumi barely even sparing her a glance as he just nodded at her apology and turned back around to face the other way, but you still watching the way she stared at megumi with big shocked eyes and slightly parted mouth.
similar to the way you did when you first saw him.
but she continued to look at him, her eyes flickering to yours then and… hardening before she reluctantly spun the other way and moved through the crowd until you couldn’t see her blonde hair anymore.
and you figured she could’ve just been a fan of megumi’s and was simply too starstruck to say anything… but the weird feeling in your gut had you gnawing at the bottom of your lip as you turned to face the other way again.
“strange..” your best friend mumbled, your eyes snapping to hers.
“you noticed that too?”
“uh huh.” her gaze scanned the main dance floor. “don’t think i’ve ever seen her before either.”
you craned your neck to look up at your boyfriend.
“have you gumi?”
he looked down, brows furrowing.
“have i what.”
“seen her?” you nudged your head to the crowd. “the girl that bumped into us?”
“who?”
you laughed. “the girl— nevermind. it’s okay!”
he smiled softly, leaning down to peck your lips before continuing to sip on his little blue hawaii as he caressed his hand over your side, his arm still snug around your torso.
“is everybody having a good night or what?!”
your gazes shifted to the dj booth up ahead, the mc of the night holding up a wireless mic with his phone in hand as the crowd erupted in cheers and hollers.
“i want to thank everybody for coming out tonight! it’s a pleasure to do this every year and see all of your talented wonderful faces—”
“oh no.” megumi mumbled, you looking up at him with a confused raised brow.
“what?”
“i think they’re gonna call me up.”
your jaw dropped, stepping out of his arm and facing him.
“they’re gonna what?”
“yuji told me about this last year…” his face was practically pale as he looked to the dj booth, your best friend and yuji already cutting through the crowd to get up there. “they call up certain players from different teams for recognition.”
“oh—” you looked on ahead, an excited smile spreading across your face. “oh that’s so nice baby! you deserve to be recognized like thaaatt!”
he slowly shook his head, absolutely fucking stiff as a rock and annoyance brewing in his chest over the party and event manager doing something fucking ridiculous like this.
“baby let’s go to the bathroom.”
“the bathroom?” you tilted your head. “why?”
“to hide.”
“gumi!” you sent him a comforting grin and ran your fingers through his soft black spikes of hair. “it’ll be okay! they just want to show appreciation for your gift baby that’s all.”
“i don’t want it.” he mumbled, forehead dropping down to rest on your shoulder miserably as you giggled.
“but i wanted to see you up thereee!” you whined, wrapping your arms around his hunched shoulders. “wanna see my cool baseball man in the spotlight for a little like he should be.”
megumi’s cheeks grew pink.
“but let’s go to the bathroom or upstairs we can—”
“if you want me to go up there i will.” he cut you off.
“huh?” your eyebrows furrowed as he picked his head back up. “what—”
“m’going up.”
you gasped. “no gumi it’s okay! i don’t want you to do something that makes you uncomfortab—”
“honda! ito! fushiguro!—”
he cupped your cheek and kissed the other.
“i’ll be back.” he murmured, patting your head while simultaneously swallowing back his displeasure for the situation— but doing it solely for you. “stay here.”
“ledger! itadori! okkotsu!—”
“o—okay!”
“please come up to the booth talented players—”
megumi walked away from the bar and through the crowd, his height making it easy for you to spot him through the masses until he got up there with yuji and the rest of the players, you going on your tippy toes and peering to and fro to try and see where he was at but pursing your lips when you couldn’t fucking see him anymore, ultimately deciding to move through the crowd yourself to find a spot where you could.
“ladies and gentlemen could i please get a round of applause for your top players of the year?!”
an eruption of whistles and clapping pierced through your ears as you tried to shimmy your way in, finally landing a leeway in between several heads and seeing your boyfriend up there— grumpy and bothered with his arms crossed as you covered your mouth to try and suppress a laugh, phone in hand already recording.
“woa— megumi fushiguro?! first year i’ve seen you here man!”
the crowd burst into surprised exclamations and gasps, the mc throwing a heavy arm around megumi as he stumbled forward, an unamused done expression plastered over his face as you held your phone up high with the biggest smile, probably looking utterly insane as you erratically flipped and rotated and zoomed in on his figure in every possible angle imaginable, the bright white lights illuminating him so insanely that he straight up looked like a god.
and you wondered then how in the fuck one of the mlb’s greatest players ever became interested in someone like you, for you felt like megumi was completely out of your league from the start with all of his glorious batting and pitching.
but every time you iterated exactly that to him amongst your endless daily ramblings, he would scoff and shake his head and gnaw at any part of your skin to get you to take back that ludicrous fucking statement, always thinking you were way too humble about yourself and polite and sweet to realize that he had to go through the trenches of telling different guy’s to fuck off if he saw they were even remotely interested in you without you knowing.
megumi did this even before you officially noticed him on the field.
and today was no exception as he scanned the main area of the penthouse to the tiki bar in search for you, the mc blabbering on about things he didn’t care about as he realized you weren’t where he told you to stay, quickly then scanning the crowd and his shoulders relaxing once he spotted you in the midst of the crowd, but eyes narrowing as he saw some stupid moron obnoxiously ogling your tits next to you while you were happily watching him with your phone propped up.
the fuck?
“—good luck to you and itadori in the league championships! any words you wanna say for us here?!” the mc vocalized through the mic, holding it up to megumi’s mouth after.
“wrap it up.”
a mix of ooo’s and laughs bounced off the walls, the mc awkwardly chuckling before unhooking his arm and patting a hand on his back.
“that’s megumi fushiguro for you! now any nba players up here?!—”
megumi immediately stepped off the platform and moved through the crowd, your eyes cutely twinkling once you noticed he was making his way over to you as you stopped your recording and stuffed away your phone.
“that was so funny— oh!”
he swiftly stepped in between you and the guy to block his view, the stupid moron slightly going off balance from how close he actually was to you and the fact only further pissing megumi off, an arm coming to wrap around your waist as he led you out of the center and off to the side by the big wall with the projection screen on it.
“what—” you looked to where you previously were and back to him. “what happened? why—”
he shrugged. “wanna talk over here baby.”
“oh, okay!” you nodded, sweet and oblivious as you enthusiastically yapped about how great it was seeing him up there.
but the guy who was ogling your tits was only the first wave.
“oh my god gumi!” you frantically tapped his shoulder and pointed to the projection wall. “it’s you! it’s you! oh my god i’ve been waiting all night i want a picture right fucking now quick hurry hurry—”
you hopped on over with your mary jane pumps and stood next to the huge projected singular shot of megumi swinging his bat, one foot crossing over the other as you wrung your hands behind your back and tilted your head with a cheeky smile, megumi reaching in his pocket for his phone.
that pose alone might as well have been you violently shooting another cupids arrow through his chest— his tingling pinky cheeks prominent under the purple neon hue of the penthouse as he took several photos, a fond smile growing on his face.
pretty.
megumi watched as you uncrossed your feet and seperated your hands, turning around and straight up pressing yourself against the wall with your tongue erotically out and spread palms over his projected snapshot, him snickering as he covered his mouth with the hand that was holding his phone, trying to ignore the way his dick twitched in his pants at the sight.
he took more pictures and gave you a silent thumbs up, you dropping your pose and skipping back over to him as he put his phone away and extended a waiting arm out to the side, you stepping in and his hand instantly snaking around your waist where it should be.
your gaze stayed locked to the wall, totally transfixed with glimmering heart filled eyes as it continued to play megumi’s greatest moments of his season— most if not all from this year alone, but a good amount consisting of last years world series game where he absolutely dismantled the opposing team with every move he made on the field with no mercy, immense pride bubbling in your little heart.
“you’re the coolest gumi…” you spoke softly and he looked down at you, eyes softening at your dazed state.
“yeah?”
“mhm.” you responded, letting him tug you into his chest as he leaned and placed a gentle kiss to your cheek. “i think i’m gonna start crying and hyperventilating on the floor.”
he chuckled, delicately moving some of your hair over your shoulder to run his hand along the smooth skin there, lips coming down next to your ear.
“i love you.”
you grinned, your heart actually skipping beats and running around every corner of your inner body as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in.
“i love you too gumi!” you gave him a cute peck on the side of his head. “and i think i’m gonna start stalking you anyways like i said because i really need something to do on my down time when i’m not studying or at your events—”
megumi laughed, an infatuated squeaky one as he nodded against the crook of your neck and held you a little tighter.
“do it.”
“okay i’ll start monday! or maybe now and i’m gonna do it by—”
“oh my gosh megumi fushiguro!”
you felt him falter in your arms and turn his head, the both of you slowly separating from each other to see who it was and your brows slightly pinching once you did.
it was the girl from earlier. the one that bumped into you.
“hi! oh my— i’m such a big fan of yours!”
your guard lowered a little upon hearing that, a small smile on your face as you looked at her.
“oh, hi.” he mumbled.
“i’ve been a fan since you got signed actually!” she exclaimed, her short bobbed blonde hair and angel costume cute to you. “how funny i run into you here right? must be fate.”
fate?
“well it’s—” he shifted uncomfortably. “it’s a sports party… thing…”
she giggled obnoxiously like she’d just heard the funniest thing ever, fingers lightly smacking his shoulder as you stood there.
“i know silly!” she smiled, nudging his upper arm with her hand. “just wanted to say that i admire you so much and think you’re the greatest! the way you play is amazing and i love it.“
you were absolutely happy with the fact that a fan was being so nice to megumi and telling him such kind words, as he deserved all of the praise and support and you loved whenever people expressed just that to him— a total treat for you if you were there to witness it as well.
but the weird feeling in your gut was back… and why was she touching him so much…
“thanks.” he spoke simply, giving barely a smile before he made his way to turn back around.
“w—wait!” she shot her hands out. “i’m hana!”
he paused midway and nodded curtly. “hi hana.”
her face gleamed and she blushed, looking like she’d just won the fucking lottery as she smiled big and cupped over her mouth with both hands, obsessed over the way her name sounded from him.
“do i hear wedding bells?!” she squealed. “when’s the ceremony?!”
you choked on your fucking spit, your boyfriend completely taken aback as he looked at her bewildered and awkwardly, megumi sort of initially appreciating the support, but now he just didn’t wanna partake in the conversation anymore as his mind was more interested in the ways you’d stalk him that you were about to tell earlier.
“so are you having fun tonight?” hana continued. “i’ve never seen you around and i come to this event every year!”
“um yeah i’m here with—”
“your friend?” she pointed at you. “how cute! i’m here with a friend too.”
the way she barely acknowledged your presence, even when it was pertaining to you as she spoke about you rather than to you, and the way she literally insinuated marriage like it was nothing with your man, left a sour fucking taste in your mouth.
and friend?
“girlfriend.” he corrected.
her face tightened.
“right!” hana’s gaze landed on yours. “sorry! i couldn’t tell.”
huh?
megumi’s arm was around your waist and she couldn’t tell?
you hugged his upper arm to your chest and gently tugged him away. “sorry but we have to go it was nice meeting you—”
a spark of annoyance flashed through her eyes. “oh but i was talking to him though—”
“—i’m sorry bye.”
you pulled megumi harder and you both dove into the crowd, disappearing from hana’s view as you went in search for your best friend and yuji— agitated and feeling guilty that you were in case hana really was just a fan and was simply overly affectionate.
but she didn’t have to disregard you like that either…
megumi could sense you were a bit bothered by the grip you had on his arm and the way you barely looked at him as you shimmied through people, his brows furrowing in concern.
“baby.” he leaned down next to your ear. “what’s wrong.”
you shook your head. “nothing. just trying to find yuji’s stupid bright pants.”
he smiled a bit.
“i think you’re lying.”
“i’m not.”
“baby— i can tell something’s bothering you.” he continued to pry and you pursed your lips, looking up at him finally.
“that girl was kind of weird…”
“girl?” he cocked his head to the side. “which girl?”
you paused. “the— the one that came up to you and told you her name and complimented you—”
“oh.” his dark blue eyes blinked and trailed off like he was searching his brain for answers, him ultimately left clueless. “sorry i actually forgot everything she said.”
you snorted, leaning forward and covering your mouth as you giggled and shook your head, somehow your boyfriend forgetting the interaction as a whole making you feel better.
“you’re so cute gumi.” you stood up on your tippy toes and gave him a big fat kiss on the cheek. “now let’s find my best friend— bright pants! i see yuji’s bright pants!
you grabbed his wrist and quickly weaved through the crowd, your girl friend’s police officer costume coming into view as you let go of megumi and flung your arms around her neck, her immediately recognizing that it was you and gasping.
“oh my god i lost you y/n! i’m sorry!” she hugged you back and you frantically shook your head.
“no it’s okay!” you pointed to megumi. “he got called up to the dj booth i was distracted—”
“they kept asking you a bunch of questions and none for me man!” yuji pouted at megumi, your best friend laughing.
“they probably got tired of you giving shout outs to the tiki bar every year when you’re up there babe.” she smoothed a hand over his bicep. “and also because megumi came out of his bat cave for the first time in decades…”
you leaned and placed your lips to her ear.
“i have to tell you something.”
“what?! what?!” she whipped her head around and looked at yuji. “yu! go to the tiki bar please with megumi i think we all left our mugs there—”
“oh my fucking god we did!” he shoved his hands in his pink hair, completely horrified. “fushiguro let’s go we have to go—”
“why the fuck do i have to go—”
“no questions come on!”
yuji yanked megumi by his white button up and they tumbled through the crowd, you laughing hard as megumi looked at you over his shoulder— a pleading disgruntled look on his face.
“okay i got rid of them now tell me.”
“girl get ready.” you slowly shook your head, eyes wide. “because i think i’m about to crash out.”
“it’s that bad?!” she placed her hands on your shoulders. “what happened?!”
“a fan of megumi’s came up to him earlier.” you began. “but the things she was saying were putting me a little off.”
her brows furrowed. “what did she say?”
“first she said that them meeting was fate.” you gnawed at your bottom lip. “and then she started saying how much she admired him and loved him on the field which is fine but—”
“not fine but go on.”
you giggled and continued.
“she barely acknowledged me… like at all. she thought i was megumi’s friend even though his arm was around my waist—”
“huh?!” her eyes narrowed. “is she fucking stupid? what’s her name?”
“hana and— i don’t know!” you whined. “but then she literally said ‘do i hear wedding bells’ and ‘when’s the ceremony’ when he said her name—”
“what the fuck?!” she yelled. “y/n this girl was straight up flirting with him in front of you! oh my god if someone was doing that to me with yuji i’d be going to prison!”
“i was thinking—” you hesitated. “that maybe she was just really affectionate but i just feel like somethings not right.”
“hell no it’s not.” she shook her head. “y/n you need to stop being so nice all of the time and bite. next time some shit like this happens you need to say something. please don’t let yourself be disrespected like that.”
she patted your shoulders and released you, crossing her arms. “and what did megumi say?”
“oh he forgot it all!” you beamed. “i think he was barely listening to what she was saying.”
“HAH! okay that’s fine i won’t beat him.”
you playfully rolled your eyes and smiled. “i just wanna take shots from the bamboo pole and forget about it.”
“oh! it’s coming around!” your girl friend frantically looked around. “i saw it pass by and a group do it! it should come back—”
she stopped.
“what does hana look like?”
you quirked a brow.
“uhh short blonde hair? she’s dressed up as an angel.”
“oh my fucking god.” she muttered. “turn around.”
you did, heart dropping once you saw that she was talking to megumi again at the tiki bar, animatedly and close to him that you nearly took your cupid wings off and chucked them at her.
“what the hell is she doing?” you mumbled. “gumi!”
megumi’s head snapped up from his hunched over position on the bar, head swiftly looking around until he spotted you and without another thought pushed himself from the counter and walked, leaving hana there with her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, cutting off whatever she was saying to him prior.
you tugged him in once he got to you and snaked your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in and placing your face into his neck.
“you okay?” he asked over the music, rubbing slow circles on your hips with his thumbs.
“mhm!” you nodded. “was just wondering if you wanted to do bamboo pole shots with me.”
he huffed out an amused breath and squeezed you. “sure baby. don’t take too many though i don’t want you to get sick.”
“no promises!” you grinned.
hana knew from the moment she bumped into you who you were.
how could she not? the only woman that managed to somehow sliver her way in megumi’s life and beat her to the game was like a broken record in hana’s mind— over and over you played and taunted her with every appearance she saw you with him, with every game and event and social media posting from him you were always there— sweet and beautiful with the angelic reputation of changing megumi for the better and treating others so fairly, physically stinging her eyes every time she saw it on the tabloids or on tv.
megumi was supposed to be hers, and when she lost the game she didn’t know.
but her number one goal the minute she learned that megumi was in attendance at the party, was that she was gonna try with her life to make him see that he was destined for her. not for you.
though it wasn’t working like she thought it would.
through the times she’s pulled him and talked to him and flashed him sweet smiles and compliments, trying to copy the entity that you were so he would at least so spare her a fucking glance and listen to what she had to say— wasn’t working as he always disregarded her and straight up treated her like she wasn’t even there.
because of you.
and she was getting desperate.
increasingly so as she watched you and megumi and your little friends line up to take shots from the bamboo pole, all of you having fun and surrounded by people that loved you— for you were the absolute life of the party as you pulled various others from the crowd to do shots with you and rejoice, hana staring from afar with rage as she couldn’t help but just hate you with every kiss and laugh that megumi gave you.
and once hana saw an opening with megumi, him stepped off to the side as he watched you continue to down shots with your friends like nothing with amused eyes, she pushed her way through towards the bamboo line with a new immoral objective of getting him to just be interested in her and forget about you so that you’d crack, evidently showing him and everyone else that you weren’t so angelic and poised after all.
“megumi!”
he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around, indefinitely confused as to why the same girl kept pulling him for chats once he noticed who it was.
“hi?”
“sorry just saw you by the bamboo line.” she smiled. “have you taken any?”
“uh like two.”
megumi looked over his shoulder, attempting to keep an eye on you while at the same time talking to her and already thinking of ways he could cut it short, wanting to just go back to you and make sure you weren’t feeling sick or that a random dude wasn’t preying on you like a dog.
“i don’t know how you can do that!” she shook her head and giggled. “i don’t really drink like that.”
“i usually don’t either.”
pathetic hope washed through her body like an avalanche, her face lighting up over the similarity and the fact that he was actually continuing the conversation with her instead of brushing her off.
“really?!” she gushed. “what a coincidence! it’s like you’re my other half hehe.”
megumi froze.
why was she always telling him the most obscure things?
“um—”
“are you nervous for your league championship game coming up?”
several hoots and hollers made megumi turn around and see that you had taken a cocktail waitress’ tray and was literally doing her job for her— handing out shots to whoever and excitedly bouncing on your toes in response to those who accepted.
“megumi.”
he snapped his head back around.
“huh?”
“i said—” her eyes flickered to you before returning to him. “i said are you nervous for your league game?”
“somewhat.”
“you shouldn’t be!” she reached up and smoothed a hand over his shoulder, her heart pumping that she was touching him. “you’re the best on the team! you’re practically the reason why you guys win all of the time i’ve—”
you saw what she did.
and maybe it was the alcohol in your system making you bratty and the fact that you were a bit overly tipsy, but you also saw the way he let himself be caressed on the shoulder like that without any consideration for you, wondering why he wasn’t stopping the conversation as a whole and coming back to you and instead entertaining her, even after all of the weird shit she had told him before in front of you.
why didn’t he care?
you smiled at the cocktail waitress and gave her back her tray, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes as you tried to look around for your best friend, itching to get confirmation on whether or not you were being batshit crazy or if your feelings were valid as you searched— but halting once you heard megumi’s familiar squeaky laugh that he only let out with you.
megumi was laughing. wholeheartedly. and so was she.
what the fuck was so funny?
“hey—” your girl friend waved her hand in front of your face. “babe are you okay? why are you crying?”
what?
you reached a hand up and touched your cheek, your fingers sure enough shimmering and wet under the purple lights once you pulled them away.
“i don’t—” your lip wobbled. “i don’t know i— i think it’s just because i’m tipsy—”
“where is megumi?” her concerned gaze scanned the crowd until they landed on him, eyes narrowing instantly as she scoffed and shook her head.
“what is this?” she threw her hands up. “ditch my girlfriend for some other bitch day? megumi!”
he jumped and spun around, an initial annoyed look on his face over the way your best friend screamed at him, but eyes widening once he saw your shaking shoulders and covered face.
oh god.
megumi took long stride full steps away from hana to get to you, her sickeningly content with the fact that her presence alone with him upset you so much and threw you off your poised demeanor, thinking it was only a matter of time now before you took out your frustrations on him and drove him away— bonus points if you made a scene.
“what happened?” he hurriedly asked, gripping your shoulders and turning you around in his direction. “baby what happened why are you—”
you pushed him away and hiccuped.
“i don’t wanna talk to you right now.”
“what? why not?” his eyebrows furrowed. “hey—”
he reached to pull you in by the waist and you dodged his hand, turning around in the process and pushing your way through the crowd to get away from him, his heart sinking as he wasted no time in following after you.
“baby please—”
“no.” you stubbornly responded, damning the alcohol for making you act so irrationally. “why don’t you keep talking to other girls all willy nilly without giving a single fuck about me—”
“what?” he spoke sharply, completely thrown off. “okay no hold on—”
megumi picked up speed and engulfed his arms around your torso, lifting you up and taking you down a secluded hallway away from the main area while you thrashed and whined in his hold.
“let me go!”
“no.”
you sniffled.
“gumi let me go.”
“are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
he turned into a darkened corner and slowed.
“no.”
he bit down on your arm and you yelped.
“okay yes i will!”
he loosened his arms and gently set you back down on your feet, nudging you around as he bent his knees to look at you at eye level.
“what’s wrong.” he pushed. “are you hurt?”
you shook your head and hiccuped, fingers coming up to carefully wipe your tears away without ruining too much of your makeup.
“why do you keep talking to her?” you mumbled.
“to who?”
“to hana.”
“hana?” his eyebrows furrowed. “who’s hana?”
“the one that keeps coming up to you!” you expressed. “what did she tell you back there? while i was handing out shots?”
“oh she— she was asking me about the league game.”
“did she say anything weird again?” you crossed your arms.
fuck.
“she did baby…” he spoke softly.
your teary eyes snapped open.
“actually? what did she say?”
megumi really didn’t want to upset you any further, but he wasn’t about to shamefully lie to you either.
“she called me her other half.”
“are you serious?” you hiccuped. “and you just let her?”
“i didn’t let her—”
“this whole time you’ve been letting her i’ve seen you!” you sobbed. “she touches you way too much and has been pulling you for chats all fucking night saying things that are completely disrespectful to me and you say nothing!”
“i—”
“and then you’re laughing with her after she called you her other half? and laughing like you do with me?” you put your hands up defensively. “i’m sorry didn’t know you guys were the best of friends now—”
“baby— i wasn’t laughing at anything she said some drunk idiot tripped and fell on his face behind her.“ he placed his hands on each side of your head and you stopped. “and i swear to god that i didn’t realize any of those things because i don’t give a shit about anyone else but you and i’m sorry.”
“but she literally said do i hear wedding bells and when’s the ceremony!” you cried, the alcohol triggering a new wave of waterworks as you covered your face. “how could you not realize that—”
“no i know baby i know that’s on me.” he gently moved your hair away from your face. “everything she was saying was so foul and i was just letting it happen and i’m so fucking sorry that i didn’t put my foot down from the start. my entire focus is always on you and i was too stupid to realize you were hurting.”
“you’re not stupid gumi—”
“yes i am.” he delicately pried your hands away from your face. “yes i am and you don’t ever have to worry about things like this okay? the only thing that matters to me is you. and i can’t tell you how sorry i am for putting you in this position and making you cry.”
���no it’s me i—” you hiccuped, cheeks buzzing with embarrassment. “i’m sorry gumi i just got jealous and i overreacted and i’m tipsy so it made everything worse. i didn’t mean to yell at you…”
he shook his head, murmuring as he pulled you into his chest. “no you have nothing to be sorry for… i would go nuts if some dude told you the same shit she told me.”
you giggled a little, and megumi was so glad that you had stepped up and said something, especially over something as drastic as this, for you were always too sweet and chose to swallow back things that bothered you around him.
“i would never do that to you pretty baby.” he mumbled. “i would never let anyone else in… just you.”
you pulled away from his chest and quickly shook your head. “n—no gumi i know you wouldn’t. please don’t think that i’m accusing you or anything—”
“no absolutely not.” he spoke gently, thumbs reaching up to carefully wipe away the tears from your pretty face. “i just needed to tell you that… okay?”
you nodded. “okay.”
you stood on your tippy toes and wrapped your arms around his neck, his right away coming around your waist and pulling you in tight— nuzzling his nose into the soft skin of your shoulder as relief washed over his body that you weren’t upset with him anymore.
“are you tipsy like me?” you whispered cutely after a few seconds of comfortable silence, and he chuckled.
“yes.” he admitted. “i think i lost my phone.”
“gumi i feel it in your pocket.”
“i think that’s my dick.”
“gumi!” you nudged him away and giggled hard, a silly small grin spreading across his handsome face as you simmered down and looked at him, lips coming up for a kiss and him gladly leaning down to give you one— the moment sweet and tender as you wetly lip locked and megumi drank you in, him completely fucking deprived of you.
“can we go home.” he spoke in between kisses. “i wanna fuck.”
you laughed and pulled away, face hot as you bit back a smile. “we can go in a little bit baby. i still wanna see if my best friend and i can talk to the nfl cheerleaders heh.”
he chuckled and nodded, pecking your forehead before releasing you and beginning the walk back to the main area, your head in a better place now that you got the reassurance you needed— and so grateful you and megumi were able to bounce back after a situation like that with no repercussions, amazed time and time again at how understanding and patient your boyfriend was with you.
you moved your way through the crowd then in search for your best friend, not having to look for long seeing as she was right in the middle where you had left her— her yelling up and down if anyone had seen either you or megumi and harassing whoever that said they might’ve caught a glance.
“y/n!” yuji pointed, and your girl friend whirled around with frantic wide eyes, running and tackling you into a big hug as she cried.
“where were you?!” she sobbed. “oh my god i was looking everywhere for you you were so upset i thought the she devil took you away or broke you and megumi up or killed you—”
you gasped. “no oh my goodness please don’t cry!” your lip started to wobble again as you listened to her sniffles, hugging her back. “hell no i would never let her do any of that!”
“me neither!” she cried. “please let me get violent with her please—”
you laughed loudly and stepped back, carefully wiping her cheeks before treating yours as both of your men stared dumbfounded.
“fuck hana forget her we have to find the cheerleaders!” you exclaimed, placing your hands on her shoulders and shaking her. “are they still here?! have you checked their socials?!”
“yes! they’re still here!” she frantically nodded. “i saw one while i was looking for you she was—”
“is that one?”
megumi pointed to a girl who was straight up wearing her nfl cheerleader uniform with her pompoms, both you and your girl friend choking on air and gasping as you sputtered a bunch of nonsense and dragged your men with you over to her and her group.
“this is our chance this is our chance—”
why hadn’t it worked?
had hana not upset you enough? tore you down enough to an insecure little bubble to make you bark and bite and be everything that she thought megumi despised? what had happened when she lost the sights of both of you once you left the bamboo line?
because what she was looking at now was making her sick with rage.
you, surrounded by people again and cheerleaders— still stunning and breathtaking and not looking at all like you had just cried buckets like she thought you did, megumi’s arms around you from behind and actually closer now than before while you and your little girl friend conversed and laughed with the cheerleaders about god knows what, hana on the verge of screaming in agony over everything that was going wrong when she had expected a break up right about now.
she just didn’t get it… what was so great about you?
and it didn’t get any better when she started asking other people about you too throughout the night, the purpose being to dish out any nasty information she could of you to use it to her advantage, but getting straight fucking nothing from it as no one had a single bad thing to say about you— referring to you as ‘fushiguro’s girl’ and how sweet and welcoming you were even if you had just met them, how funny you were and pretty and thoughtful and hana was just sick.
had she actually lost to you? had she lost megumi? after being in love with him since the start of his contract?
she thought she had gotten your entity down. hana thought she had managed to morph herself into someone like you since she found out megumi and you were together from the tabloids— watching you and your social media postings since then to see what you had done to turn his head, megumi someone she thought would never find love until she got to him eventually.
and at this point without hana wanting to admit it, she was more obsessed with you than she was with him.
because she cared. she cared so much about everything that you did— the perfumes you wore, the ribbons in your hair, her stomach in complete utter knots watching the way megumi was with you all unfold in front of her in real time, cursing her jealous rotten eyes for how hard they fell for you and how much she worshipped all that you did.
how much megumi worshipped you.
because every time you took pictures with your friends he only looked at you, every move you made he followed after you, every time she tried to talk to him he dismissed her for you, and even every person that knew who you were at this fucking party absolutely loved and adored you.
it just wasn’t fair. why couldn’t megumi love her?
so what could she do? what else could she do?
leaning against the counter of the tiki bar, gaze fixed on megumi’s blushing cheeks and little smile with his face and button up covered in red lipstick kisses she didn’t doubt were from you, him looking at angelic you like you were the sun itself… she conquered that there wasn’t much she could do anymore.
“blue lagoon please.”
hana watched from the corner of her eye the man that just came up to the bar, bored and uninterested and on the verge of deciding to just go home, until she noticed who it was.
ino takuma.
she slightly turned her body in his direction, his eyes drifting to hers momentarily before flashing her a polite smile and looking away again.
“you’re ino takuma… with megumi fushiguro’s team right? for the mlb?”
he turned his head. “oh yes! i am. nice to meet you!”
hana gave him a quick smile.
“do you know his girlfriend by any chance? y/n?”
“yeah of course!” he grinned, a bit drunk. “she’s great. really sweet.”
god, well aren’t you just the greatest thing to ever exist?
she held back her agitation, ino receiving his drink from the bartender and slurping it down immediately.
“i actually was interested in her for a while.” he admitted with the straw in his mouth, loopy and inebriated. “but megumi got to her first… lucky guy.”
her ears perked up.
“do you still like her?”
ino thought for a moment.
“well… a little.” he pursed his lips, a very slight pink hue to his cheeks. “never got to explore it but every time we talk she’s kinda like the one that got away heh… that’s if megumi isn’t pulling her away when i try though.”
a devilish idea sparked in hana’s mind, because at this point— the woman was out for carnage.
and whether megumi ended up with her or not she didn’t care. right now? she just needed to break you both up.
“that’s kind of wrong, don’t you think?” she sighed heavily. “why don’t you try talking to her now? just you two! there’s a hallway by the other side of the penthouse that’s secluded… you’ll get a proper chance to have a conversation!”
ino looked at her like she was insane.
“megumi would actually bite my head off.”
“that’s why you do it away from him and away from everybody else!” she shook her head disappointedly. “what, she can’t be friends with you? you have every right to talk to her ino! so go for it.”
ino looked over to where you were, apprehensive as he gnawed at the inside of his cheek and actually really wanting to talk to you without megumi breathing down his neck for once… but the alcohol in his system making it hard for him to juggle whether it was the right choice or not to begin with.
“have you guys ever tried for cheer teams before?!”
you and your best friend frantically shook your heads no, excited expressions as you hung out with half of the cheerleaders from one of the top nfl teams by the dj booth.
“you should try out for ours!” one of them suggested over the music, a huge smile on her face. “seriously! you guys would do so well and you already know most of us!”
“oh my god i would but i don’t even know if i can do a split!” you whined. “if i show up i’m gonna look like a fucking idiot.”
“i’m weak i’m un-athletic.” your best friend added miserably and they laughed— a different pretty one shaking her head.
“don’t even worry about that!” she waved her hand dismissively. “i’ll literally personally talk to the coach!”
you looked at her wide eyed. “really?! wait no it’s okay! you don’t have to do that i feel bad—”
a different one stepped up. “no she’s the captain she’ll do it!”
“oh fuck!” you slapped your hands over your mouth.
“honestly?! actually?!” your girl friend exclaimed.
“our team prioritizes character over ability!” the captain spoke again. “ability can be taught, not character, and you two are the prettiest and funniest bitches i have ever met.”
you all screamed and laughed as you and your best friend shook each other by the shoulders, unbelieving that you were being scouted right fucking now by the best nfl cheerleaders out there.
“here— give me your numbers and put your emails down too—”
the captain pulled her phone out and swiped through a few apps before turning it over to you, you typing out your information on her notes app and passing it to your best friend after for her to do the same.
“i’ll contact you guys tomorrow morning!” you both nodded and thanked her profusely, her smile bright as she took her phone back and gave you both a thumbs up. “please keep in touch with me or i’ll die.”
you and your best friend vowed that you would with more frantic nods and hugs, you spinning around to face megumi as the team conversed amongst themselves for a moment.
“did you hear?!” you asked, eyes glowing and shiny with hope. “gumi did you hear?! they said— the captain— she got my number— tomorrow morning—”
megumi laughed at your hyper yet spacey behavior, nodding and smiling warmly at you as he pulled you in by the waist, not even phased in the slightest that you and your girl friend got along so well with the cheerleaders— but still a bit shocked nonetheless that you’d basically been offered a spot on the team and you only needed to finalize a few things with them.
“i did.” he gently spoke nudging your chin up, ruffling your hair then as he looked at you sincerely. “that’s really really good baby. good job getting on their radar.”
your face broke out into a gigantic smile and you quickly pecked his cheek. “thank you thank you oh my god i need a drink right now i need to calm down—”
megumi playfully rolled his eyes and released your waist. “i can go get you one.”
“are— are you sure gumi?” you gnawed at your bottom lip. “no it’s okay i can get it—”
he silently shook his head and kissed your forehead. “no baby you have fun… just stay here.”
you smiled sweetly at him and reluctantly nodded, watching him turn and walk through the crowd towards the tiki bar as you shifted your attention back to your girl friend and the cheerleaders.
“no you’re lying.”
“i’m not babe!” your best friend laughed. “they got our contact information and i swear to god they really want us to come try out.”
“holy shit.” yuji shoved his hands in his hair. “holy shit i’m gonna have an nfl cheerleader girlfriend.”
“right?!—”
“holy fuck you’re gonna look so good in those uniforms—”
“i know right?!—”
yuji and your best friend jumped up and down and cheered loudly as you giggled alongside them, your mind completely preoccupied with the thought of how lucky you just were to gain leverage and connections like that with a professional dance team at an event like this.
“we’re gonna head home in a little bit after this!” you mentioned to your girl friend after her and yuji settled, her shoulders slumping in response. “i’m just gonna get one more drink before we go.”
“lame!” she pouted. “is megumi okay to drive?”
“yes he sobered up!” you smiled. “not me man jesus christ.”
your best friend laughed and reached over to give you a hug. “okay just text me when you get to his place—”
“y/n.”
you both stopped and turned, ino takuma behind you with a sheepish smile.
“oh hi ino!” you greeted him kindly. “i didn’t realize you were here! you okay?”
“no yeah! yeah i’m alright. been hogging the bar or upstairs with some of the hockey players.” he smiled warmly. “thanks for asking.”
“mhm!” you nodded. “that tiki bar is crazy every single drink they have is so good.”
he nodded vigorously. “it’s why i’m practically shitfaced right now god.”
you laughed at his phrasing, ino realizing then that he dangerously still kind of liked you with the way he swooned a bit over your smile.
“do you wanna—” he hesitated. “do you wanna talk? over there? for a little..”
“over—” you peered over his shoulder, him pointing to the other side of the purple lit penthouse at a darkened hallway. “over there?”
“y—yeah… if that’s okay!” ino scratched the back of his neck. “it’s just kinda loud here… and i haven’t had the chance to properly talk to you in a while.”
“oh!” you nodded, thinking his intentions were purely innocent and justifiable, feeling bad yourself that you hadn’t spoken to him in some time after megumi’s practices. “yes of course! i’m so sorry ino i’ve been so busy i—”
“no it’s okay don’t!” he grinned. “it’s not your fault whatsoever i just—”
you and ino began your walk to the other side of the penthouse, your best friend and yuji shooting each other weird looks that went unnoticed by you, ino leading you away from the crowd and to the other side of the main area.
you’ve always respected and had a really great impression of ino, him never failing to be kind to you since the moment he introduced himself at the banquet way back when— helpful and genuine and not a bad bone in his body as he was a hard worker for the team and catered to all, you touched that he always took the time to greet you at least once every time you were there for megumi at his baseball events.
“how are you and megumi doing?” he asked, crossing his arms as he casually leaned against the wall of the hallway, you wringing your fingers behind your back and doing the same.
“we’re great!” you beamed. “our two year anniversary is coming up soon!”
“oh wow!” he tightly smiled. “it’s been two years already? shit.”
you giggled and nodded. “i know! time flies hehe.”
ino dismissed the slight growing pit in his stomach, the alcohol in his system obnoxiously amplifying his crush for you as he tried to simmer it down and just conversate with you while he still had you on your own.
but he didn’t think it’d be this hard— his drunk mind blurring the definitions of morality and respect as his judgement was sloppy and you were just so fucking pretty, ashamed of the way he was thinking how a bubbly sweet girl like you ended up with someone as stoic and stern like megumi, someone who was the complete opposite of who you were.
“…are you okay ino?” you spoke softly, eyebrows pinched in concern at the distant look in his eye.
“huh? oh yeah! s—sorry i just—” his cheeks heated up. “i’m tipsy don’t pay that much attention to me.”
“oh no don’t even i am too!” you laughed. “i had two drinks from the tiki bar and like four shots from the bamboo pole.”
he looked at you incredulously. “how are you standing?”
“i don’t know!” you covered your mouth and leaned forward, coming back up against the wall once you calmed down and took a deep breath. “i’m good though i’m great.”
he smiled softly. “you are… and you look really good by the way.”
you faltered a bit but quickly fixed your demeanor, knowing ino only meant that in a friendly way and completely missing the way his drunken gaze flickered to your boobs momentarily before returning to your eyes, his cheeks flaring up at what he did.
and the angel on his right shoulder was absolutely beating the devil on his left for planting two guilty images in his head then.
one imagine that was lewd and sinful and one he wanted to get rid of immediately.
and another image of what it would be like to kiss you…
just once.
“fushiguro! what can i get you?”
megumi was hunched over the tiki bar with his elbows on the counter, his eyes scanning the drink menu as he tried to decipher which drink to get you that you’d like, knowing the fruitier ones were particularly your favorite.
“um… do you have anything that isn’t strong on alcohol.”
the bartender pointed to the menu, megumi’s gaze landing on ‘jungle bird’.
“this one’s your best bet.” he took his barrel shaker out to prepare for megumi’s order. “i can also cut back the alcohol some more if you want me to.”
he nodded. “is it like— fruity.”
“yeah!” he grabbed a glass from the back. “i’ll cut back the alcohol and add more pineapple juice to it so it’s better.”
“thank you.” megumi sent him a thin smile, the bartender giving him a thumbs up before turning his back to him and getting to work, him not even realizing that hana was standing next to him at the bar.
“you getting another drink?”
megumi’s eyes flung to the source of the voice, annoyance pumping through his veins as he saw it was the same girl that had upset you, and the same one who wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone.
“yeah for my girlfriend.” he responded flatly.
hana hummed. “nice! where is she?”
“back over—”
he looked over his shoulder and stopped, instantly straightening up when he didn’t see you in the crowd anymore and worry spiking through… as he knew you were a little tipsy and naive at the moment.
“hmm… weird! actually you know what? i did see her walk away earlier!”
his gaze snapped to hers, hana thrilled since this was the first time he actually looked at her in the face.
“where.”
“with ino takuma!”
his eyes narrowed. “what?”
“yeah! i saw them talking in that little secluded area on the other side… they looked kind of cozy in there i don’t know.”
cozy?
“what do you mean.”
“mmm—” she looked up in thought. “from what i saw she pulled him to talk… and it kind of looked like she was all over him… sorry megumi. i’m just trying to look out for you—”
all over him?
oh fuck no.
megumi stepped to the side and drowned her out, squinting his eyes to try and see if he could spot you on the other side where you supposedly were until he did— you and takuma in a little corner talking and laughing, him obviously drooling over your tits and alarmingly too close to you as megumi’s jaw hardened.
it looked like he was about to fucking kiss you.
“—i would never do that to you what your girlfriend is doing is disrespectful—”
megumi moved without a single word and bumped shoulders with hana on the way, her staggering back a little and scoffing as she watched him disappear to the darker side of the penthouse.
and megumi was furious.
because how many fucking times did he have to make it obvious to takuma that you were off limits, that you had been off limits that you were never on limits? and why were you both so far away from everybody else? from him? why had you pulled him to talk? what for?
megumi understood from the get go exactly why you were so upset about hana saying absurd things to him throughout the night, but with the sight of you now pressed up against the wall as takuma was basically cornering you in, the both of you all alone and secluded and him knowing you were too helpless and nice to call out when a person was being weird— really put the situation into perspective now that the roles were reversed.
and he hated it. hated it so much.
so so much as his mind raced and spun with jealousy over another man wanting to sweet talk his girl, immense venom in his chest thinking ino was actually fucking insane for even attempting such a thing as he shoved and pushed through the stubborn crowd until he—
“what the fuck are you doing.”
megumi grabbed your wrist and tugged you behind him while he looked straight at ino, his pull a little rougher than he intended as he created distance between the two of you.
“oh— hi gumi!” you greeted happily. “look it’s—”
“did you hear what i said?”
“yeah— yup yup—” ino cleared his throat and shot back, face paling over what he almost did. “i was just um— talking to y/n.”
“talking.” he repeated. “and you were about to kiss her too right?”
“no i—” ino looked over at you. “i’m sorry y/n i don’t know what—”
“huh?” your eyes snapped back and forth between them. “gumi what do you mean—”
megumi jerked his head down in your direction. “did you pull him for a chat or did he pull you?”
you shrunk back a little, your boyfriend’s usual gentle eyes now sharp and crazed and one you had never seen from him besides through particular tough games on the field.
“he— he pulled me but why does it matter—”
“why does it matter?”
his head shot back to ino, gaze narrowing.
“what the hell did you think you were gonna get out of this?” he spoke harshly. “taking her over here away from everybody else? away from me?”
“fushiguro—”
“so i wouldn’t see right?” he stepped forward and you quickly grabbed his button up from the back. “so i wouldn’t see you try and sweet talk her and change her mind? to take advantage of her? knowing she’s too nice to say no?”
“no man i would never.” he shook his head. “never i—”
“you’re full of shit.” he spat. “you think i’m an idiot? you think i don’t know what you were just about to do with her?”
“gumi stop it—”
you tried to come around his frame but he only pulled you back behind him.
“megumi— i’m sorry man i really am i’m drunk right now and—”
“so you think that makes it okay for you to try to make a move on her?” he shook his head in disbelief. “she’s in a relationship with me ino. we play on the same sports team what the fuck are you doing?”
“i— i don’t know—”
“you still like her then?”
what.
“no i don’t—”
“don’t bullshit.”
ino ran an exasperated hand down his face. “okay fuck a little!”
“well that’s too damn bad!” megumi shot back. “get your own.”
ino felt horrible.
fushiguro was right. everything he was saying was absolutely right and he had never felt so much shame as he looked at stunning you through the cracks of megumi’s arms, for he not only fucked up his friendship with his teammate, someone he works with, but with you. a person like you an utter loss if driven away— him more than sure that that’s exactly what he did just now.
and what compelled him to do this in the first place? he couldn’t remember anymore.
“fushiguro punch me.”
megumi looked at him bewildered while you gasped, frozen in place.
“huh?”
“sock the shit out of me right now.”
“m’not gonna do that idiot even though you deserve it—”
“no do it right now i’m serious and we’ll call it even.”
megumi rolled his eyes. “go home takuma—”
“do it or i’ll kiss y/n—”
megumi instantly reeled his fist back and knocked the fuck out ino’s jaw, blood boiling and chest heaving over what he said as you slapped a hand over your mouth in shock, ino hunched over with a hand on his face.
“thanks.” he choked out.
“we’re not even dingus.” megumi mumbled. “but go home.”
ino nodded, sending you one last apologetic look before stepping away from the two of you and down the hall until he was out of view.
“what the fuck was that—”
“did he try anything else?” he cut you off.
you looked up at him, trying to peer around his shoulder at his face. “n—no he didn’t he didn’t try anything—”
“he didn’t try anything?” he turned around, brows furrowed. “baby— he was staring at your tits and he tried to kiss you.”
“how?!” you exclaimed, genuinely confused. “we were just talking and—”
“why did you go with him when he pulled you to talk.”
you blinked. “because it’s ino. he’s a friend i didn’t think anything bad of it…”
“you didn’t think anything bad of him taking you to some dark fucking place without anyone else around?”
“i—i’m sorry gumi.” you gnawed at your bottom lip, it registering in your dumbass brain now how shady ino’s request was to talk to you in the middle of an empty hallway. “i didn’t…”
“you didn’t?”
he stepped forward and your eyes widened as he backed you further and further up against the wall, lips coming down next to your ear as he placed his palms flat next to either sides of your head.
the logical and empathetic part of megumi’s brain was yelling at him not to utter his next few words, that he ran the risk of deeply upsetting you and ripping open the bandaid of what you two had previously just cured… but the rest of his brain and entire fucking body and soul was livid.
livid at takuma for taking advantage of your kindness, livid at him for thinking he could successfully pull the shit that he pulled while you were naive and sweet, and livid at every single god damn man in this building for preying after you like a piece of meat and like he wasn’t just standing right there next to you with a hand on your hip.
and megumi was gonna flip it back on you… his anger completely misdirected as he was delirious and fucked off after the events of today and wanted to rile little you up— afraid to admit that he was shaken at the fact that he could’ve potentially lost you to someone as respectable as takuma, for as stupid and shitty and drunk as he was earlier… ino wasn’t a bad person in the slightest.
you matched better with someone like him.
and he didn’t like that at all.
“what if hana had pulled me here hm? to a place where nobody else was around..?”
your brows furrowed.
“w—what—”
“what if she was the one to pull me in this dark empty hallway to try and kiss me?”
you swallowed, jealousy and venom swirling in your chest as you breathed out shakily through your nose, a picture perfect image of the stupid scene megumi was describing sending a sting of agitation through your insides as you narrowed your eyes at him, his hidden underneath the front pieces of his black spiky bangs.
“why are you telling me this.”
he didn’t respond, his splayed out hands balling up into fists.
“do you get off to this? is that what’s going on?”
the tremor behind your voice and your shaking shoulders broke him out of his dark clouded fog and he straightened up, regret hitting him like a brick once he noticed your teary eyes and angry furrowed brows.
“shit i’m sorry i’m sorry—”
you snatched his wrist and yanked him with you out of the hallway, him stumbling behind you as he sputtered out apologies and pleas for you to turn around, for you to look at him as you pushed your way through the crowd back at the main penthouse area.
“pretty baby please i’m so fucking sorry—”
you said nothing, and anxiety welled up in his chest, wondering where you were going and if you were crying as he tried to nudge back and stop you, you only pulling on him harder as you reached the stairs of the main area.
a drunk random guy made himself known from the crowd and leaned over suddenly, his eyes wide and comically bewitched by you as he placed a hand on your shoulder.
“oh my god— you are so beautiful!”
you looked at him rattled as you tried to get away from his strong grip, megumi’s mind over the fucking edge at this point as he grabbed his wrist and jerked it off your shoulder with such a force that it sent him tripping over his feet.
“the fuck do you think you’re doing moron?!”
“oh is she your girl?” he put his hands up defensively. “my bad she’s hot—”
megumi lunged and you quickly wrapped your arms around his torso to pull him back, wrestling with him as you dragged him up the grand stairs of the penthouse.
“baby let me go.” he spoke firmly and out of breath. “let me go right now—”
you ignored him as you tugged at his wrist again and continued up the stairs, him clamping his mouth shut and shitting himself, ashamed of his temper and the behavior he’d been exhibiting left and right as he was sure you were about to break up with him once you found the appropriate setting to do it in, his eyes cast down to the ground and filled with remorse.
you speed walked down the wide hall, pumps clacking against the shiny tile flooring as you opened several doors before you found a vacant bedroom, dragging him in and slamming the door closed behind you with the click of a lock, the music from downstairs now a distant vibration through the walls.
and megumi kept rushing out apologies, trying to explain himself as you turned and closed in on him at the edge of the bed, shoving him down and climbing over him in a straddle as his words got caught in his throat, looking up at you with round eyes.
“baby..?”
he watched you lean back and slowly, tenderly, undo each and every cross and knot from the front of your corset, your little cupid wings long gone now as your gaze stayed glued to his, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth in a little smile.
megumi cautiously propped up on his elbows, observing the way your soft tits spilled out of your corset as you gracefully undid it entirely, throwing it next to you and tilting your upper body down to his level sensually while his heart pattered against his chest— his lips reaching and connecting with the side of your neck as he placed slow open wet mouthed kisses alongside it, licking after each one before starting anew.
he breathed in sharply through his nose then and pulled away. “wait— baby first i’m sorry okay? i’m so sorry—”
“be quiet gumi.” you murmured against his jaw, trailing little sucks and nips at the skin as his eyes fluttered closed, him nearly missing how you tugged your mini skirt off and left yourself with just your lacy panties on top of him— rubbing your pussy teasingly over his clothed cock.
“fuck.” he breathed out, his trembling hands undoing his button up as he hastily sat up and shook it off his shoulders, tossing the white cotton material somewhere in the room and enveloping you in his arms, desperately sucking and biting over the flesh of your tits and nipples as you moaned so sweetly in his ear.
you pressed your pussy down hard on his crotch, megumi moaning with a mouthful of tit as he sat back on his elbows again and rode his hips up to meet yours, obsessed with the way you looked on top of him now with your thigh high socks on and pretty little face— unsure of how the events from earlier led up to this moment but choosing not to question it whatsoever, eyelids blissfully closed as you ran your hands up and down his chest tenderly, rutting on him.
“i wanna fuck you gumi.” you pouted, and megumi swore he saw stars. “take your pants off—”
his hands dived for the waistband of his jeans, fumbling with the buckle of his belt and chest moving rapidly as he hurriedly unclasped it, slipping it off and tossing it to the other side of the room— you swinging a leg off of him so he could kick the rest of his clothes off, megumi grabbing you and settling you back over his lap once he was bare.
you tugged your panties off and sat your puffy lower wet lips on his aching cock, sliding over it deliciously and slowly before lifting and lining his dick up with your hole, sinking down on him as megumi’s eyes rolled back at the feeling.
“you like it baby?” you huffed as you bounced on his dick. “does it feel good?”
megumi lustfully nodded as he reached to place his hands on your waist, you slapping them away and his eyes flying open in response— eyebrows pinching.
“wait—” he bit back a moan as you started going faster. “let me—”
“touch me and i stop.”
“what?” he shook his head. “no don’t do that—”
he reached for you again and you slapped his hands away.
“i said no gumi.”
what the fuck?
megumi reached again and you straightened up on your knees, his dick slipping out of you and landing with a heavy thud on his lower tummy as his breath hitched.
you got off his lap and his eyes widened, disbelieving that you were actually being serious as he confusedly watched you pull the red lace from your corset, tossing the rest of it somewhere and moving further on the bed with your knees.
“sit up on the headboard.”
megumi dumbly blinked.
“do it or i’m putting my clothes back on and going downstairs—”
he shot up and propped his shoulders and head up on the metal frame, you coming around and swinging a leg back over him as his mind went into a fucking frenzy over the way you were acting, too in his thoughts to notice that you had tied his wrists to the metal bars with your lace, eliminating his privilege of putting his hands on you.
you scooched back down and mushed his cheeks up with your fingers, pecking his puckered up lips and smiling innocently.
“be good.”
“baby— fuck!—”
you shoved his cock back inside you and he choked, you picking up your previous brutal pace as he heaved and tugged at the lace in a horny sweat, never in his life seeing you like this as his skin physically itched and burned to touch you with every bounce of your pussy on his length, your cunt so warm as it strangled the life out of his dick and milked it, your tits bouncing in his face and the view of your ricocheting ass a straight up torment to him as he continued to pull frustratedly on the lace.
“let me touch you baby please— hah!—”
“nope.”
“please pretty i’m so sorry i’m sorry for everything that i did!”
his body trembled as you pistoned down on his cock, hiccups coming from his throat as his hips pathetically lifted from the mattress to compensate for not being able to feel you up, overstimulated tears at the corners of his eyes.
you whimpered and licked your lips delightfully at how good he felt and how he was whining for you, making him pay back for everything he did and said tonight as you leaned down and licked a long stripe up his chest to the side of his neck.
“holy shit—” heave “holy shit—”
you sat up on your knees and let his dick fall out again, megumi’s eyes bulging open and jaw dropping at the sudden stop.
“put it back in.” he panted. “i beg you please put it back in—”
“hmmm… i don’t know…” you rubbed your pussy over his cock, noises sticky and squelchy as you pondered. “i think i wanna stay just like this!”
you leaned down and gave him a wet kiss on his cheek.
“baby listen to me.” he looked at you desperately as you pulled away. “i love you i love you please untie me—”
“you love me?” you grinned.
“more than anything—”
“didn’t seem like it all those times you hung out with hana!” you shook your head disappointedly. “why don’t you keep hanging out with her and talking about her and throwing it in my face yeah? maybe ask her to get you off.”
“n—no baby i’m sorry i don’t know why i did that—”
“and since you like hanging out with her so much, i’ll go and hang out with ino.”
he stilled.
“huh?”
megumi’s chest picked up speed as he roughly tugged at the lace, your words already riling him up with the mere mention of you with somebody else.
“mhm! maybe i should slide my pussy over his dick just like this—”
“the fuck you just say to me?”
“—and let ino fuck me and bite me and suck my tits—”
megumi yanked and the lace snapped in two, tackling you and throwing you face down on the bed as he hauled your ass up and smacked it hard, receiving a yelp from you.
“is that what you want?” he plunged his dick inside of you and you cried out, going off balance from trying to lift yourself with your hands and dropping back down by the force. “you wanna be a slut and replace me?”
he grabbed a piece of the torn up lace and joined your wrists behind your back— hastily tying them together and securing it roughly, hooking his hands on the underside of your elbows and wrenching you up.
“gumi!—”
“you gonna do that to me baby?” he hammered his pelvis against the fat of your ass while holding you up at an arch, the bend giving megumi the leverage to absolutely demolish your insides while he fucked you. “you gonna break my heart like that?”
“no!” you sputtered, high pitched whimpers from you filling his ears. “i would never!—”
“uhuh, sure.” he panted, letting go and throwing you down on the sheets below to grip your hips— slamming them back to meet his in such a brutal pace that tears of ecstasy were streaming down your face, your cute pitchy moans mixed with your hiccups and sobs thrilling him sickeningly at the moment, for megumi was too far gone and in a state of animalistic and scary need for you, wanting you to remember that you’d always be his.
“you’d never yet i find you all alone with another man?”
“gumi i’m sorry!” you hiccuped. “i’m so s—sorry—”
megumi reached over and meanly pinched your wet cheek.
“i don’t wanna fucking hear it.”
he looped his fingers through the lace and pulled you up again, wrapping one arm over your shoulders under your chin and the other over your tummy as he enveloped you, dick splitting you open so fucking good that drool seeped from the corner of your mouth— megumi’s tongue coming out to lick it up alongside your tears and you squirming and pouting as he did.
“i bet ino wants to play with your pretty little pussy like this huh?” he spoke softly in your face, eyes crazed and wild as you jerked up and down. “i bet every single fucking guy at this stupid party wants to play with what’s mine right? and you’d let ‘em? you’d do that to me baby?”
you sniffled and whined. “no gumi!— hic!— i love you i wouldn’t—”
“i’d kill for you baby…” he whispered in your ear, nose nuzzled in your hair as your breath hitched.
“so be careful who you talk to yeah?”
megumi threw you back down and broke the lace again with two hands, your arms springing apart freely as he flipped you on your back and spread your pretty thighs, cock lining up, thrusting in and drilling as he hovered over you and kissed you so sloppily— majority of it the sloshing of tongues as you moaned into each other’s mouths and made a wet drooly mess.
“gumi— can i— pant— can i cum please please—”
he shivered at your begging as he trailed his lips to your cheek and gave you a kiss, hips rapid and curt as he felt his cock on the brink of spilling.
“you wanna cum on my dick?”
you licked your lips. “mhm! please.”
so sweet.
“yeah?”
“uh huh—”
“cum— hah— all over my dick baby s’okay—”
“guummiiii!—”
your orgasms flooded through both of your bodies like a white flash, you as a pair completely fucked out and sweaty and abused as megumi’s cum drained into your pussy, hot and droopy as his hips continued to absentmindedly rut his cum back inside of you while you were both borderline checked out with pink cheeks and dewy skin.
megumi was the first to come down from his high, his fogged half lidded gaze looking at your pretty face and pressing multiple small kisses along one side of your cheek, coaxing your little mind to come back from la la land as you stirred and whimpered.
“you okay?” he whispered, and you weakly nodded, sending him a cute tired smile.
“i think—” he sat up and moved a few strands of your hair away from your eyes, mumbling. “i think i was too rough baby i’m sorry…”
“what you just said was a sin.” you spoke flatly and he chuckled, you shifting to curl into his side and wrapping your arms around him, face hiding in his chest.
“…are you mad at me.”
his eyebrows pinched, a soothing hand running up and down your back. “no, never.”
megumi sighed deeply and stared up at the ceiling. “that should be my question to you…”
you lifted your face from his chest and looked at him. “why would i be mad at you gumi?”
“for everything.” he mumbled. “everything i did.”
you giggled, his heart instantly flooding with warmth at the sound as he clutched you tighter.
“but you didn’t do anything baby.” you kissed his collarbone. “everything you did i would’ve done exactly the same and maybe even worse.”
you played with the hems of your knee high socks. “but i shouldn’t have gone with ino gumi i’m really sorry... i genuinely just thought he wanted to catch up as friends… not that he— you know. i didn’t even know that until today.”
and megumi already knew it was exactly just that— your precious kind self trusting ino with everything you had, trusting a friend, that you weren’t considering any of the logistics that could consider a request like his shady.
but he was still so bothered in that moment. and he regrettably couldn’t help it, usually being able to swallow jealous tendencies whenever they appeared, but completely losing it seeing as you were so close to being disrespected like that.
and one issue after another and another made him shamefully insane for a little.
“no baby i know you don’t have to explain.” he answered gently. “i acted like a fucking psychopath today man.. i can’t tell you how sorry i am.”
“oh absolutely not.” you scoffed. “your reactions were so justifiable gumi…”
you looked at him. “you were frustrated and so was i. it was only natural for us to start having a fucking meltdown… but we had it together! right?”
megumi laughed a little and nodded, pulling back to look at you as you grinned.
“we just matched each others freak is all.”
how you managed to make every sour situation better and funny no matter the circumstance, was one of the millions amongst other things megumi loved most about you.
“i’m also trying to say that you don’t have to worry so much about me gumi…” you mentioned. “i can defend myself if i need to okay? i love to hit a man that deserves it.”
he playfully rolled his eyes and smiled softly at you, nodding and accepting your words but them having absolutely no effect, as he was going to continue to worry over you until his very death bed and beyond— that being a promise.
because from the second that you blessedly agreed to be his two years ago, megumi’s job was to worry about you and take care of you, to love you as he silently promised to you over and over again that he would try his hardest to keep you happy— happy with the life that he has given you as your man, and happy with him so that you’d keep wanting forever with him like he so badly wanted with you.
hana was nowhere to be found after you and megumi went back downstairs— not that either of you cared in the slightest as you gathered up your tiki mugs, bid your best friend and yuji goodbye and left the party as fast as you could, eager to get to his apartment and snuggle up under the covers with the warmth of each other’s bodies gently lulling you both to sleep, something megumi had been looking forward to all night and content once he finally got his wish.
and even after the roller coaster of events that happened at the halloween party, the both of you were happy and healthy and laughing about what had happened a couple of days later— you over at his apartment in bed with him during a rainy lazy november day, pajamas and fuzzy socks still on even though it was well past morning already, and with the smell of cookies baking in the oven from the recipe you had made together just for fun to partake in fall activities for the month, the two little pumpkins you had carved silly faces in earlier today with megumi sitting side by side cutely on his dining room table and ‘in love’.
“i say we run down the street right now in our pj’s.”
“baby it’s pouring outside.”
“so?” you pouted, crossing your arms as you sat there straddling his lap. “and then we can kiss in the rain!”
he smiled softly. “you’ll get sick though.”
“and so will you so then we can be sick together in your bed and have sick sex how about that—”
megumi threw his head back and laughed, the crinkle in his eye one you adored so much as you giggled alongside him and traced absentminded figures on his chest, his hands squeezing and caressing over your thighs lovingly.
“your audition is next week right.” he murmured. “for the cheer team.”
“mhm!” you nodded sweetly. “i’m sick to my stomach.”
he snorted, eyes flickering to yours amusedly. “you really shouldn’t be baby. it seems like they really want you and your best friend in.”
“yeah but—” you paused. “what if when i get there and they see me look like a fucking idiot they change their minds? or i talk their ears off and i get banned? or what if i ruin—”
“you’re not gonna get banned.” he chuckled. “just do your best okay… and i already know you will. trust me.”
you grinned, leaning down and peppering little kisses all over his rosy flushed face.
“you’re so niiiceeee gumi my goodness!”
he playfully rolled his eyes, the little smile on his face unwavering as he looked at you.
at his future.
“close your eyes.”
you stopped. “huh?”
“close your eyes.” he squeezed your thighs reassuringly. “i have a present.”
you gasped. “really?! holy fuck wait okay—” you covered your eyes with your hands. “okay okay i’m ready.”
you heard the opening and closing of a drawer, giddy and excited on his lap as he shuffled through a few things that you weren’t sure of.
“can i open nooww?”
he laughed a little. “hold on baby.”
“maaann—”
“okay now you can—”
you ripped your hands away from your face and you froze.
megumi had the prettiest black ring you had ever seen in your life in between his thumb and index, shiny and dainty as it had a cute black little heart in the middle to complete the piece, holding it out for you with flustered cheeks as he looked to the side.
“gumi…”
“it’s a promise ring.” he peered up at you. “do you like it.”
“a—” your eyes snapped to his. “a promise ring?”
he took your left hand that was on his chest and raised it, gently sliding the ring over your ring finger as you sat there in utter shock, him letting go and you slowly retracting your arm with your gaze locked on the stunning jewelry piece.
megumi had the ring hidden for months and dumbed around looking for the right time to give it to you… a time that was perfect and meaningful and intimate as he took it everywhere he went for that time— hidden in the crevices of his duffel bag during practice, stuffed in the pockets of his jackets or sweaters, and even the day of the party, his fingers playing and running along the smooth little heart while you had gone to change into your costume in his room, embarrassingly afraid and nervous over what you’d say even though he knew he didn’t need to be.
“i—” he struggled, you looking at him so sweetly and patiently as he tried to get his thoughts together.
“remember… when we went on that trip to the mountains with my dad… the car ride coming back?”
you quickly nodded. “i do.”
“and when you said that… you thought about us married.”
you blushed furiously and you nodded again, a silly shy smile growing.
“i was serious when i said i did too.” he stared up at you sincerely.
your eyes softened, your fingers lightly grazing over the ring, feeling it.
“i want a life with you..” he mumbled. “i want you to know and remember that… that i love you and i promise you soon it’ll happen. and on days where you’re not happy with me that i’d do anything for you so we can fix it.”
megumi never messed around when it came to you, and you were the one thing he never wanted to lose or let go.
he could live without and lose his car, his apartment, his things his fucking career and he still wouldn’t give a shit as long as your pretty face and smile was still by his side through it all— for you were the thing he absolutely couldn’t live without and would rather swim in boiling scalding water than experience it happen first hand.
megumi softly pinched your cheek. “i want you in my life forever pretty baby.”
your lip wobbled. “you do?”
he nodded, reaching into the collar of his hoodie and tugging out a silver chain with a black ring looped through, his heart beating through the roof as he held it up for you to see.
“i got a chain for it so i’d still be able to wear it under my uniform on the field.”
oh how you fucking melted at that, thinking over how megumi was so dedicated, so committed to the things that mattered most to him, and you couldn’t believe still sometimes even after being with him for two years and him always making sure you knew— that you were one of those things.
and you loved him.. so fucking much as you sniffled and covered your face, leaning forward to lay on his chest as megumi’s eyes softened and arms came to wrap around your body.
“i’m so happy i met you gumi.” you whispered in between your sobs, those words alone sending a spark of emotion through his body, feeling his eyes oddly and ever so slightly prickle.
“i’m so happy i met you baby..” he murmured, hand lifting to pat and smooth over the back of your head. “don’t cry..”
you sniffled and wiped your eyes, feeling so warm and safe under megumi’s arms as he kissed your wet cheeks and carded your hair away from your face, silently so loving as you settled down.
“i’m always happy with you gumi okay…” you spoke. “i’m never not happy. ever. and i’m so fucking thankful every single day that you love me as much as i love you and that i get to keep you.”
he breathed out a little laugh through his nose as you sat up, his glimmering lovesick eyes on you, you smiling.
“i want you in my life forever too baby.” you murmured, playing with the chain on his neck and fiddling with his ring. “i always have.”
megumi smiled, the feeling of joy and love so potent in his chest that he didn’t think a feeling so strong like that even existed or was supposed to happen to him.
but you made it happen. you never failed to make it happen.
his happiness.
“i wanna have your babies.”
megumi choked at your sudden comment, arm flying up to cover his coughs with the crook of his elbow as you giggled uncontrollably at his reaction.
“what?! it’s easy we just do what we already do now except i skip a month on my pill and you cum twice in me instead of once—”
“baby!—”
“i’m kidding!” you snickered over the furious blush on his cheeks, tapping his pinky nose. “i’m kidding i need to be a cheerleader first and then you can impregnate me because i know you want that so bad—”
“oh my god—”
“—and maybe you should cum inside three times actually because third times the charm and i feel like—”
megumi suddenly flipped your positions and tackled you down, lifting your top to reveal your tummy before digging his fingers into your sides and tickling you all over, you thrashing and gasping for air as you laughed loudly and tried to get away from him, him stuffing his face in your neck and nibbling obnoxiously.
“i’m sorry! please stop! gumi— eeekkk!”
“no.”
“i’ll do— i’ll do anything!—”
“no.”
you giggled and gasped. “gummmiiii!—”
days like this with you were megumi’s greatest days.
he didn’t need anything else. just you and your giggles and your smiles, your sweetness and your talkativeness as you brightened up his life in every single aspect, coated all of its tribulations with sunshine and warmth as you proved to him everyday still how beautiful life could be if he just let it.
and as ludicrous as the party was with bamboo shots and cheerleaders, tiki bars and shitfaced players and certain individuals literally trying to pull you both apart… you still loved it. an experience you were glad that you shared with together and barely had to make the effort to talk about and fix because there was nothing to fix.
you and megumi always understood each other, two souls on the same wavelength that ebbed and flowed in the same direction and in the same form always— a privilege that you never once clashed against each other so much so that it destroyed the natural flow of your currents.
because this sea was much different than the dark and torturous one he was in by himself all those years— the one he was in before he met you.
this one was sparkling and crystal blue, luke warm to the touch and fun as he didn’t mind the saltiness of it getting into his eyes, because somehow it never burned when it did, resolving itself quickly and gently and the waves themselves never making him feel like he couldn’t breathe but alive instead, and all while swimming and nurturing it kindly with you as he made sure that you never got tired or unhappy with it— never got tired or unhappy with him.
and all of that was a definite promise— resembled in the ring that sat pretty on your finger.
to look after you. to support you. to love you.
to make you happy.
always.
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taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):
@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @stilettoheelz @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire @dee-writes-anime @megumisluciouslashes @peachyaeger @yourstru1y4ever @yoonights @skendos @babylambdietcoke @yunstarz @dinomdubs @kalulakunundrum @s777athv @sugoroo @wastednightsonyou @miri222 @jayawaya @dazailover4ever @courtneedsleep @kcch-ns @halovianembrace @rhaitanis @kayamor @mirophobic @aylinnhealsformeow @zeesturniolo @arionater
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mywritersmind · 3 months ago
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THEY DONT KNOW IT - LN4
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summary : She’s a popstar who’s being oggled by the same grid who doesn’t believe Lando has a chance with her. In a simple quiet conversation, Lando fixes that.
listen up : lando norris x popstar!reader. mentions of sex. reader wrote bed chem!!
word count : 629
⋆。‧˚⋆
“You hear who’s in the paddock today?” Oscar eyes Lando as he joins the group of drivers. They all look suspiciously giddy.
“No…?” Lando eyes them, It’s Carlos who’s grinning and speaks up first.
“Y/n L/n.” the spaniard whispers.
Lando raises a brow as Alex nods to his girlfriend talking to you, “She’s a super famous singer right? Lily loves her.”
“Very pop.” Charles adds in.
“Very hot.” Franco says as they all turn to him, “What? You were all thinking it.” a surge of jealousy goes through Lando. Obviously he knows people think you’re hot, he’s the fan club president. But Franco saying it makes him want to go over there and kiss you in front of the young driver.
Lando watches you move your hair behind your ear, assessing the little black dress you’ve got on. “Fuck.” is the only think Yuki can say.
“Hasn't she been to a couple races?” George adds, “For any reason or…” Lando wants to yell at them that you’re there for him.
“She’s a fan.” Charles says, “Hangs with Alex in the garage sometimes.”
You wonder if they know how obviously the group is looking at you. You turn and give them a little smile. Most of the guys look away except Lando, who waves.
“What the fuck?” Carlos makes a face.
“Dude-” Max laughs as Lando looks around at the group.
“What?”
“Give up now.” Alex shrugs.
“Excuse you?” Lando crosses his arms over his racing suit, “You think I don’t have a chance?” They all start laughing, “Fuck you, lot!”
Alex grins, “Don’t let netflix hear.”
Carlos slaps his hand onto his friends shoulder, “Mate… she’s just so- and you’re so… it’s not made to be.”
Lando just scoffs, “Don’t pout!” Max laughs, “I’m pretty sure she’s the only girl out of your reach.”
“You don’t know about Nadia?” Alex grins.
Max gives him a confused look but turns back to Lando, except when he does, he realizes he’s already gone and walking towards you.
You smile when you see Lando, he slips his arm around your waist and pulls you in for a quick hug, “Hi.” His eyes linger on you before smiling kindly at Lily.
“I’ll be back, Y/n. Lando keep your distance.” She points to the driver before walking away.
“The guys don’t think I have a chance with you.” He whispers into your ear, his hand still on your waist.
You laugh a bit, glancing at the men who are all staring at you two. “So naive.” he laughs a bit, tilting his head down.
A curl goes into his face and you resist the urge to push it back. “I’m happy you’re here.” this makes your cheeks go a bit pink. Funny, you’ve been sleeping together for months and he can say the tinest thing to get you to blush.
“I’m happy I'm here too. Win for me?”
“What do I get if I do?” His hand backs off your waist a bit, clearly aware of the eyes on you.
You look up at him, his eyes greener than ever, “Whatever you want?”
His brows go up, “Whatever?”
The corner of your mouth quirks, “Within reason.”
“Not much reason between the two of us.” You roll your eyes and back away from him so you’re no longer touching.
“Go run back to your friends and giggle about how a pretty girl kissed you.”
“But you didn’t-” He gets cut off by your lips on his cheek. He’s grinning ear to ear as you walk away, waving a bit.
When Lando walks back to the guys they’re gobsmacked, “Tell me you didn't just meet her today.” Charles practically pleads.
He laughs at their faces, “Have you ever heard the song, bed chem?”
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brairslair · 6 months ago
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just thinking abt relationship dynamics with the op boys <33
EVERYONE IS 18+ (minors dni)
a/n: currently have one piece brain rot and it is consuming me so here’s this! fem!reader and very suggestive + mentions sex, but no actual smut. NOT PROOFREAD 🙏🏻
don’t forget to like, reblog, comment, and follow to support my work! it always makes me day mwah
“of course i’m serious”
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luffy:
in usual luffy fashion, one of your very first interactions ends with him trying to convince you to join his pirate crew
at first you’re hesitant, rightfully so, having just met the guy
however, you’re quickly persuaded by his happy-go-lucky personality and loyalty to his crew
after finally joining the crew yourself, your relationship with luffy gradually melts from just being friendly crew mates to being so close that you would put your life on the line for him at a moment’s notice
he seems to have that effect on people
while you grow close with all of the strawhats, your relationship with luffy is different
within a few months you already feel like you’ve known him your entire life
the two of you never have a dull moment together
while you love to entertain his antics, you also know when to stay level headed and keep him grounded
and while your work ethic is always valued on the ship, luffy can always get you to relax and have a good laugh when you need a break
eventually the two of you start to literally finish each other’s sentences, and it freaks everyone else out every time
you balance each other out perfectly
the two of you can talk and laugh for hours and not get tired of each other’s company
definitely tries to teach you a little portuguese but does not have the patience
you guys have friendship bracelets and he never takes his off
over the years, your relationship begins to grow from best friends to something more
you notice the shift far before luffy does
luffy picks up on little changes, like the weird tingly feeling he gets in his stomach when he makes you laugh
he doesn’t really think much of it though and brushes it off
probably assumes he’s just hungry…
in fact, luffy probably doesn’t really comprehend his feelings until someone spells it out for him, but in his head it doesn’t really change anything
you’ve always been his go to, and that won’t change now
the shift from platonic to romantic is gradual, natural, and if you ask robin, entirely inevitable
(she predicted this from the very beginning when the crew met you in your hometown)
he’s confident and honest with you in sharing the way he feels once he comes to the realization, and you allow him the same courtesy
he doesn’t feel any reason to hide or be embarrassed about his feelings
to him, being your boyfriend just means being your best friend except better because you get to hold hands and kiss and stuff
nothing is awkward when you start dating
it just feels right
he’s always been a very touchy person, even before you started dating
now that you’re together though, he loves cuddling
sleeping just isn’t as comfy anymore if he isn’t laying on you
definitely bites you sometimes and he says it’s because you’re so awesome that he doesn’t know what else to do with himself
he holds your hand all the time and likes to swing them back and forth when you walk together
he also likes to carry you on his shoulders because it makes you laugh
he doesn’t really use pet names for you often, if at all, but he really likes it when you use them for him
will, however, give you absolutely ridiculous nicknames that he finds cute
he has obviously never had a girlfriend before you
he wasn’t really concerned with romance or sex at all actually until you
you definitely have to teach him a lot
like what you’d like to do on dates
and how to kiss
luffy didn’t really understand the appeal of kissing, but you seemed to want to do it so he figured he’d give it a try
after kissing you for the first time he can’t get enough
definitely understands now
a super messy kisser (ofc)
gets giddy when you smile or laugh into his kisses
he smiles into your kisses a lot himself because he’s just so happy to be with you
you also have to teach him about the concept of pda and public etiquette, because otherwise he just does not care and will literally start making out with you in front of the entire crew simply because he wants to kiss you
sex is of course also very new to luffy, and like kissing, he does not understand the appeal until you test the waters with him and his mind is blown
he didn’t realize it would be so fun
it’s almost always sloppy, but he’s very attentive to your requests and desires
he takes in everything you teach him and improves upon it, because he loves making you happy more than anything
kind of a little shit sometimes though because he definitely overstimulates you without even realizing it
never intentionally mean though, but can be a huge tease entirely by accident
loves giving you pretty things he finds like rocks, shells, and any cool trinkets he finds laying around
he just gets so excited to share everything with you, and you’re always the first person he wants to talk to about everything
even if it seems as simple as finding a cool rock
other than sprinkling in more couple-y things, your relationship dynamic really does remain the same as it had always been, best friends
the two of you never take life too seriously, and just allow yourselves to enjoy each other’s company
luffy may not be the most “romantic” boyfriend in a traditional sense, but he will do absolutely anything to see you happy and safe, and you the same for him
he doesn’t need to do any grand gestures to give you butterflies in your stomach
you are each other’s safe space
the two of you said the L word to each other well before you became a couple, but the first time he says it romantically is when you personally cook a three course meal and bake him his favorite sweets to celebrate his birthday
saying those words to each other feels so natural that you almost don’t realize you hadn’t been saying it this whole time until now
will willingly share his food with you if you ask, which is genuinely mind blowing to everyone including yourself
if he proposes to you it will be super out of the blue and unplanned, completely catching you off guard
the two of you could just be talking, having a normal conversation, maybe getting some work done around the ship, when all of a sudden he’s just like
“hey, do you wanna get married?”
probably heard sanji talking about weddings or something and was like, oh! we’re in love, we should get married too!
obviously you can’t legally get married being pirates trying to slip under marine radar, so luffy has franky make you both simple rings out of pieces of sea glass you picked out
the rings have each other’s initials engraved into them
after that, the two of you consider yourselves married and the rest of the crew follows suit
not much changes in your relationship other than your titles
he’ll proudly tell people you’re his wife if you do something cool in a fight or someone asks about you or something
but even without a proposal or a ring, the two of you were always going to be forever
zoro:
when you first meet zoro, you see him as cocky, brazen, and extremely annoying
the two of you clash almost immediately
after luffy somehow manages to convince you to join the crew, the close proximity only makes it worse
the two of you are constantly at each other’s throats, taking any opportunity to push each other’s buttons
nami often jokes that “the two of you bicker like an old married couple”, which does not go over well with either of you
for months the two of you are rivals, making everything a competition to see who’s better than the other
however, after a while you begin to see zoro’s true colors through the cracks
his dedication to his craft, the respect he has for luffy, the kindness he tries to mask beneath a hardened exterior, and his absolute undying loyalty
it makes you begin to wonder why you began to dislike him in the first place
over time, your bickering becomes less venomous and more playful, bantering back and forth for the fun of it
you pick up new habits like sparring with zoro every day, telling him it’s because “the only way to beat your rival is to know his weaknesses”
or zoro waking you up at the crack of dawn to do laps around the deck because he heard you say you weren’t a morning person once, except he brings you coffee exactly the way you like it, every time
eventually your relationship snowballs into friendship
the two of you still bicker and banter, butting heads every once in a while
but now you also laugh at each other’s jokes
and sit together in comfortable silence just to be in each other’s presence
and eventually, you get to the point where the two of you can share your deepest, darkest secrets, fears, and desires, that nobody else is allowed to hear
he makes you feel safe, and you know you are with him
without even realizing it, your relationship starts sinking into something much deeper than friendship
whenever you’re off the ship, zoro is almost always at your side, practically attached to you, making sure you’re never in harms way
the two of you can basically read each other’s minds, seemingly able to communicate without a single word shared between you
neither of you are even conscious of your feelings for one another until nami catches the two of you sound asleep on the desk with your head resting in zoro’s lap and runs to tell usopp
when you do begin to realize how you feel, neither of you bring it up, too afraid to ruin what you already have
but you don’t need to
your bodies and minds are practically interlinked, bending at each other’s will
your relationship stays mostly the same, only gradually and organically becoming closer
running errands together on new islands, napping together more often than you do apart, sitting next to each other during meals, etc
eventually your mutual feelings become almost unbearable, and you finally cross the line between friends and lovers
you would probably have to be the one to make the first move, because not only is zoro insanely stubborm, but he’s also uncharacteristically easily flustered
your first kiss feels like pieces clicking into place, or feeling the warmth of the sun in the dead of winter
as cheesy as it sounds, it feels like home
there’s no conversation about feelings, or asking you to be his girlfriend, you just are
like all the seasons of your relationship, the shift is slow, and goes unnoticed for a while by most of your crew mates
robin, nami, and usopp are the first to notice, seeing you fall asleep against his chest instead of his lap, or seeing you whispering secret conversations up in the crows nest when you think the others are asleep
eventually everyone is made aware of your relationship when you challenge zoro to a drinking game at a party, ending with you getting drunk off your ass and kissing him before immediately passing out against his shoulder
zoro is not a fan of pda, so for the most part, your relationship remains the same around the crew and on islands
still bickering and making up stupid competitions to challenge yourselves, but now theres a softer, more intimate side to your relationship
he will occasionally do passive agressieve little things to rub your relationship in sanji’s face though if he’s flirting with you too much for his liking
like whispering something dirty in your ear to make you get all flustered, or wrapping his arm around your waist to guide you into the dining room
he partly does it to get a rise out of sanji, sure, but mostly because he loves the reaction it gets out of you
the bond you share is clearly special, and thats something that everyone can see
however, your relationship is much different when you’re alone
it’s much more domestic
quieter
you know each other like the back of your hands at this point, so sometimes theres no need for words
the silence is soothing
other times, the two of you can talk for hours
he’ll gladly listen to you ramble on about anything and everything thats on your mind if you want to
and he’ll hang onto every word
he’s also a bit more touchy and vocal in private
he’ll massage your sore muscles after a particularly tough sparring session
or rub his thumb across your hip where he holds you against his chest, mumbling compliments into your hair
he’s another man who never really thought about relationships until you came along, so he’s quite inexperienced in a lot of areas
he picks up quickly and adapts, following the signals that your body sends him and adjusting accordingly
sex with him is either extremely intimate and gentle, or he’s being a total pain in the ass and teasing the shit out of you
either way, he’s hyper aware of your every move and action
his main objective is always to please you, because he quite literally would do anything for you
in his eyes you deserve the world handed to you on a silver platter, and he wants to be the one holding the plate
neither of you need to hear the words to know that you love each other irrevocably
you can see it in every move that he makes, and he can hear it in the beating of your heart
when the words are shared it’s in the hushed privacy that only you will ever share, or after a particularly life threatening battle
zoro knows that he’s yours forever like he knows he needs oxygen to breathe, but he’s also not a sappy romantic like the cook
he would bring up the idea of marriage in casual conversation to see where your head is at
the two of you have extremely healthy communication, always 100% honest with each other
if you don’t like the idea of marriage he would drop the subject and never bring it up again, content to just be with you
but if you do like the idea of getting married, he would propose right then (very informally)
“why don’t we get married then?”
“are you serious?”
“of course i’m serious. let’s get married.”
the two of you would pick out simple wedding bands on the next island you docked at, stealing away for the day to allow yourselves to bask in your new beginning
the rest of the crew would also totally freak out at dinner when they see the sparkling new jewelry adorning your fingers
sanji:
as we all know, sanji is a lover of women
he’s also a hopeless romantic
from the moment you join the crew, he’s completely head over heels
he thinks you are absolutely the most stunning woman he’s ever laid eyes on in his life
while he dotes on you, you don’t really pay him any mind at all at first
you see the way he treats other women, and you know he’s simply a flirt by nature, so why would it be any different when it’s aimed towards you?
and it first, it’s really not that much different
he just finds you mesmerizing, but it’s nothing more than an infatuation
but as some time goes by and he and the rest of crew get to know you, it turns into something more
you become friends first, quickly forming a strong bond
you keep him company while he cooks, allowing him to teach you different techniques and recipes
you listen to him talk about his dreams, and he returns the favor, judgement free
sanji quickly realizes he’s fallen for you
like for real
the feeling scares him at first, never having felt so many intense emotions about one person before
but the fear is quickly overcome by determination to devote himself to you in every way
he takes care of your every need, defends your honor when necessary, and is always there for you when you need a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on
you don’t catch onto your feelings until months after sanji pinpointed his, long after you had already plummeted far away from feelings that could be considered platonic
you make the first move, and neither of you hesitate to leap right into it
he set’s up dates for the two of you frequently
compliments you up and down, every word sincere
he gets super flustered and giddy when you compliment his cooking
never forgets an anniversary, valentines day, or your birthday, and always goes all out to make sure it’s extra special for you
sanji isn’t inexperienced per-se, but he also hasn’t been with many women
however, he has a talent for this sort of thing, and his movements are smooth and fluid, never unsure
he kisses you like a man starved, gentle at first, quickly becoming more passionate and hungry because you’re absolutely irresistible
he’s handles you the same way in the bedroom
gentle and passionate
sanji always finds a way to make sex super romantic
he likes to hold your hand, and give you kisses, and tell you how much he loves you
he has a CD burned with a bunch of super sweet love songs, and it doubles as a slow dance playlist and a sex playlist
after you become official, it’s no secret to the crew
sanji is practically shouting it from the rooftops
he’s even more over the top than before, waiting on you hand and foot
loves holding you, and intertwining your fingers when the two of you go looking for ingredients on whatever island you’re docked at
loves hugs and cuddles obviously
always holds doors open for you, pulls out your chair, offers you his coat, and kisses your hand like a proper gentleman
also uses so many pet names for you that you can’t even keep track of them all
still a massive flirt even though you’re already his, and reaffirm that truth every single day
your relationship is very flirty in general
he can dish it out way better than he can take it
he gets flustered sooooo easily when you give him a taste of his own medicine
even though he’s quite eccentric in the way he loves you, he can also be really soft when the moment’s right
the two of you can giggle about stupid hypotheticals one second and be having a deep philosophical conversation the next
sanji tells you he loves you for the first time within like the first 3 weeks of you dating
and he means it 100% too
he absolutely worships you and thinks he must have been a saint in a past life to be able to deserve you reciprocating his feelings
sanji’s known since the very beginning that he was going to marry you some day
as romantic as he is, he cooks you a wonderful meal, just for the two of you
he lights up the place with dozens of candles and rose petals scattered everywhere
and by some miracle he summons the will power to get through dinner with you, before finally beginning his long speech, pouring out all of his love for you like poetry
he kneels on one knee before you, and the ring is barley slipped onto your finger before he has your back pressed against the kitchen counter
oops!
the two of you throw a little ceremony with the crew on the next island you dock at, with vows and a dress and everything
sanji refused to let you settle for anything less than perfect, because you deserved to have a real wedding
his vows are gut wrenchingly gorgeous btw
cries when he sees you walking down the aisle
he makes sure to call you “my wife” as much as humanly possible, and kisses your ring all the time
usopp:
you and usopp became friends pretty much the second you joined the crew
you both have such a similar sense of humor, and you love listening to his ridiculous stories
he lovessss gossiping with you and it’s your favorite pastime
and of course you help him craft his weapons
the two of you are basically inseperable
you do absolutely everything together
you help each other get through your day to day tasks, talking and joking your way through them
you watch him practice his aim and cheer him on
you like laying down together and looking at the shapes the clouds make
you sit next to each other at meals most of the time so that you can gossip with your eyes
but sometimes if you sit across from each other you have staring contests
you don’t know when or how it happened, but somewhere over the years you and usopp fell desperately in love with each other
everyone knows how you feel for each other, hell even you know how usopp feels about you, but he’s completely oblivious to it all
the only reason you haven’t made a move yet is because nami made a bet with you to see how long it takes him to fess up, and neither of you are allowed to “interfere”
he finally confesses to you one night after a long celebration for another strawhat victory
you always make fun of him for being such a lightweight, but tonight it really shows
completely wasted after only two shots, he finally professes his love for you
nami won the bet, but you honestly couldn’t care less
the next day he’s probably super embarrassed, but once you tell him you feel the same way he’s SO relieved
he gets flustered so easily it’s a little humorous
you barely even have to do anything to make him a blushing stuttering mess
most of the time you do it by accident
he has a staring problem because everything you do is so mesmerizing to him
you take your relationship fairly slow
he gets insanely flustered every time you hold his hand
he LOVES cuddling but he has to hide his face against you because he gets so dazed just by being so close to you
the first time you kissed him he almost passed out
he cannot believe you actually want to be with him
once he’s more comfortable with the concept that you really do want him as much as he wants you, he kisses you all the time
your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your knuckles, and most importantly, your lips
his kisses are gentle and cautious at first, growing more confident the longer you’re together, but still always soft
the crew thinks you’re the cutest couple ever, sometimes disgustingly so
usopp is extremely inexperienced, despite the stories he tells that suggest otherwise, so you make sure to let him set the pace
when he’s ready to take the relationship a step further, he’s a bit clumsy at first, but eager to learn
talks a big game, but when it comes down to it he always “lets you” take the lead
loves bragging about you and telling people that you’re his girlfriend
he’s just so proud to be with you
literally thinks you’re the coolest person ever
you guys are still best friends even though you’re also so much more than that
you still gossip, and do your work together, and make ridiculous jokes, and are there for each other no matter what
if marriage is something you want, you would have to hint at it heavy
because he is not going to come up with the idea to propose otherwise
not because he doesn’t want to marry you, but simply because he’s never even thought about marriage like that before
it take him weeks to work up the courage to finally propose, but he would do it all “the right way” because you deserve a real proposal
takes you out on the deck to watch the sunset and then he’s down on one knee with a ring box in hand
gets teary eyed asking you to marry him, and cries happy tears with you when you say yes
you would have a simple ceremony on the ship, just vows, rings, and a kiss, and just like that, you’re husband and wife
chopper would 100% be the ring bearer and nami would be the flower girl
brags about you, and makes sure to include you in all of his stories
no matter how long you guys have been together, his wild imagination never gets old
law:
you were on the brink of death when law found you, taking you onto the polar tang to perform a life saving operation
you could barely remember what even caused the injuries in the first place by the time you woke up, but you had never been more grateful in your entire life
you owed you’re life to him
so you insisted on joining his crew, promising to repay him for saving your life, even though he assured you it wasn’t necessary
you stayed anyways of course
your relationship started out strictly professional
he was the captain, and you were the crewmate
you were friendly with each other of course, but that was the extent of it
over time, you grew closer
you started getting tasked with him with his personal tasks while he worked, allowing the two of you to spend a lot of time in each other’s company
eventually your simple conversations became staying for hours after all the work had been completed just so that you could continue talking
you bonded over similar interests and shared knowledge, realizing you had more in common than you initially thought
after that the years seemed to fly by, blossoming friendship getting stronger until you could practically read each other’s thoughts, and then one day it all became much bigger than either of you had anticipated
you have both somehow managed to fall in love with each other, and neither of you dared to speak a word of it to anyone, even yourselves
you’re too scared of being rejected and humiliated, and law is absolutely terrified of being in love at all
he has absolutely no idea how to handle his feelings, so instead he bottles them up and stores them away in the hopes that they’ll just vanish
they don’t vanish
instead they get bigger and bigger, until it’s all consuming and he can’t think of a single thing that is not you
meanwhile, you’re trying desperately to suppress your own feeling and failing miserably
the two of dance around each other, tension so thick it radiated to everyone else on the crew
you’re interactions become shorter, both of you unable to be in the presence of the other for too long before you felt like you were going to say something stupid
eventually it all reaches a peak, and while working in his office one night he can’t fight his impulses, so before he can overthink it he finally just kisses you
his kiss is heated and filled with a million emotions he doesn’t know how to express with words
your relationship remains the same outside of your shared privacy, so most of the crew doesn’t even know you guys are together for months
if anyone does pick up on it, it’s because both of you are in considerably better moods for weeks after your first kiss
he lets you paint his nails and do his eyeliner
gets really affectionate when he’s tired
he isn’t the best communicator, but you’re patient and he tries his best
law is somewhat experienced, only having been with a few women in the past, but it’s enough for him to know what he’s doing
he has no problem taking the reigns, and easily slips any semblance of control right out of your grasp
sex is either super soft and romantic or he’s really mean, depends on his mood
loves having his hands all over you whenever he can
also gets really cocky and his smile when he’s like that is deadly
doesn’t say it often, but makes sure to show you every day how much he absolutely adores you
he’s so in love with you it drives him a little crazy sometimes, but he doesn’t say that
instead he saves his smiles only for you, kisses every inch of your skin, and holds you impossibly close to him while he whispers sweet praises and confessions in your ear
when law does say “i love you”, he makes sure you know how much he means it
he cherishes your late night conversations, whispered beneath the sheets
while the crew does know of your relationship now, you still don’t really act like a couple at all in front of anyone else aside from very subtle things
you always make law coffee in the morning and he thanks you for it with a kiss to the cheek before getting breakfast
and he whispers things to you all the time, just wanting to share things with you even if he may not want to share them with the rest of the crew
your relationahip changes slightly you become his wife
he never really liked the idea of marriage, but with you, he’s open to anything that would make you happy
if you want to get married, that’s what will happen
the rings would be extremely simple, but engraved with something incredibly sweet to remind you of how much he loves you, even if he isn’t able to tell you so as often as he thinks he should
there wouldn’t be any ceremony, just the rings, but it’s enough for you
after that he’d be a bit more affectionate with you in front of the crew, the occasional peck, and domestic touches
it’s usually subconscious and goes unnoticed unless someone points it out
he can’t help himself, you’re his wife, and he’s surprised by how much he loves the new title on you
ace:
very flirty with you from the very beginning
compliments you all the time
thinks you’re the hottest person in the world and is very vocal about it
the two of you literally just flirt with each other like 24/7 but still say “we’re just friends”
pisses everyone else off
you know ace has a history with women, so you figured it was safe to assume that you simply followed that pattern
so the two of you go on like that for months, so obviously crazy about each other that it quickly becomes annoying to everyone around you
the solution? set you up, obviously
some of your crew mates make it their mission to finally get you two together
setting up romantic settings where the two of you just happen to be alone
pairing you up on chores and tasks
they may or may not lock the two of you together in a closet for like an hour
it only takes a few weeks to finally get you to crack
ace is a cocky bastard about it, but also literally bouncing off the walls because he’s wanted you for forever
he fell first, you fell harder type shit
huge dork
can be pretty childish sometimes, but in an endearing way
but he does know how to read the room and take things seriously when necessary
never fails to make you feel better if you’ve had a rough day
loves seeing you in his clothes !!!!
literally the biggest flirt and tease ever, no matter how long you’ve been together
very touchy and just wants to be close to you
despite the fiery passion woven through his personality, he kisses you like he has all the time in the world
extremely good kisser, and enjoys pulling away to watch you chase his lips and try to catch your breath wayyyyy too much
50% slutty and 50% the most romantic man on the planet
he’ll literally be making the most obscene noises in your ear and then say something so butterfly inducing and poetic that you feel like you could cry
very experienced, and it shows in everything he does
he knows exactly how to read what you need, and just what to do to have you a complete mess by the time he’s done with you
slutty waist 🗣️🗣️
king of the knee thing
loves when you give him hickeys too so he can show off that he’s yours
also pretty open about pda
he doesn’t like make out with you in the middle of a bar or anything, but he definitely does not shy away from showing you love just because there are people around either
your relationship is surprisingly mature, and you have really good communication
definitely would carry you on his back, shoulders, bridal style, or just pick you up and spin you around cause it makes you smile
if he proposes it would be planned, but not necessarily traditional or formal
he’d plan some sort of fun activity for the day, like a picnic or something, and then you turn around and he’s kneeling on the ground in front of you
would pick the PRETTIEST ring
he’d also be smiling like crazy through the entire proposal cause he wants to marry you right this second
as soon as the ring is on your finger he’s already making stupid jokes that have you rolling your eyes
would “elope” (unofficially) on an island and then see how long it takes for everyone to notice
possibly making a bet to see who catches on first
once the rest of the crew knows, he takes everyyyy opportunity to call you his wife or by his last name, and giggles like a kid every single time
asks are open!
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fairene · 7 months ago
Text
one of your girls / ln4
part one
lando norris x fem!reader
reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of y/n.
part two
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you are just one of his girls. a frequent regular. but something changes, and you are his favorite.
a/n ⋯ how do i explain myself...? guess i can't! this will be divided into two parts for the sake of dramatics, and truthfully i can't contain my excitement to share this with you all. reader's dresses are left to be ambiguous for your imagination, only the cut of the dress is described (perhaps a color, once, but i forget); as usual, it is always up to YOU what you are wearing;) i will be focusing on requests before the next part comes out!
inspiration ⋯ VIDEO
warnings ⋯ SMUT / 18++ minors DNI!!! language, drunk hookup, choking (slight), oral(m!receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, overstimulation, feral lando. sickeningly in love lando, but not here; non monogamous (yet), insecure reader.
wc ⋯11.3k (unedited.)
your phone rang in from your bag, the vibration shocking you from your conference room in new york. you had been visiting there for your job, meeting with clients, and overall needing to schmooze the entire fucking office. you were sick of it at this point. 
and it was sunday, too. who works on a fucking sunday? you. because what’s life without the overtime pay? 
until you saw lando’s contact card lighting up your screen. you blushed, instantly, thinking of just how a week ago he had you laid out on his monaco penthouse, screaming and weeping his name while he fucked you rabidly. 
you answered, clearing your throat. 
“hello?” 
“i won! i won!” he shouted, the background noise of crowds drowning out the baritone of his voice. you raised a brow, but were quick to connect the dots. you’d been so busy with work that you’d forgotten that the race must’ve been over, you were only able to watch the beginning before you were swooped up into a meeting. 
your hand flew to cover your mouth as you stepped into your office, shutting the door. you couldn’t be loud, and tears began to welt in your eyes. “did you really?” 
“yes, yes! god, i’ve wanted this so bad…” he was absolutely full of rile and cheer. you could hear that from his voice clear as day. you were so happy for him. you wiped a stray tear that fell down your face and rolled to your chin. 
“i’m so happy for you, lan.” you breathed, laughing when your voice hitched with emotion. you knew that he caught it, letting out his own gasp at your retention. 
“you cryin’ for me?” he said your name, know damn well he had a cheeky smirk on his face. you scoffed, rolling your eyes and even he could hear the action. 
“shut up. let me be happy for you.” he laughed again, deep and rich, but relieved that you picked up the phone. it was hard for him to get your attention, though you felt vice versa. 
“let me be happy, then,” your brows raised at what he meant. “come to miami. tonight.”
you froze, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your work shirt. “lando…” you sighed. “you know i can’t…”
“please…!” he whined into the phone. 
your resilience to him was not good. clearly.
“call my boss.” you heard him yip and pop his lips. he was giddy and thrilled that you accepted his advances. it never did take much, though, did it? 
you hung up the phone before you could say anything else and settled back into your temporary station before you were back in monaco full time. the office here was more than sufficient and, you couldn’t help but thank god that you were here when lando called. the flight to miami wouldn’t be more than three hours. 
your boss knocked on the door a few minutes later with her brows raised. 
she spoke her name and you perked up. “you didn’t tell me you had family in miami,” she said, crossing her arms. but she wasn’t angry. 
“i do.” the lie was swift. but it wasn't really a lie, was it…?
“your cousin called me, said that you need to use pto hours for a wedding…” she looked at her apple watch. “which is in a few hours?” 
you gulped. “what can i say,” you shrugged, “i’m a workaholic.”
your boss shrugged, turning to leave. “take the week off, you deserve it.”
so this is what working so hard got you? damn. you practically leapt off your seat, packing away your laptop and other essentials you had brought to the office. when you were skipping down the steps of the building to the parking garage, you got a text. 
flight leaves 6
> one attachment 
it was lando. you opened the text as you were unlocking your door, realizing he sent you a boarding pass. he already filled out all your information. he wanted you there that bad, didn’t he? you wouldn’t even consider the two of you close friends rather than buddies who fuck. 
you hearted the message and raced home to pack. 
when you touched down in miami, there was a car waiting for you outside the airport. you were shocked with such lively treatment, but weren’t one to start complaining. the ride to lando’s hotel wasn’t very long, either, but it was beautiful. 
when you stepped out you were greeted by the miami breeze, refreshing from the stagnant air in your humid new york building. 
“thought you were gonna chicken out,” his voice was light and airy. you were so dazed by the grandeur of the building that you didn’t see lando standing there at the entrance. you immediately gaped at him, embarrassed that you were caught off guard. 
“on what, this? luxury? be for real!” you stifled a laugh. he held out his hand for your bag, and you gave it to him. but it was really meant for your hand. 
his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. he peppered light kisses to your neck, but not your mouth. your relationship wasn’t intimate like that, it never was. kissing was the next step to love, you told him, and you never reached for his lips with the amount of times you’ve fucked. 
but he did. 
there was always something about your aura that allured him. it drew him in like a moth to flame, and he would happily burn if it meant being in your presence. but he wasn’t ready for a relationship, so he told himself, and neither were you…so you told yourself. 
yet you’ve explored each other’s bodies like vestigios conquerors. you knew what made him tick, he knew what made you squirm. it was a fair trade, you thought, and you had no intention of staying exclusive to him. 
but you’d make it known to him that when you were both together, there were no other girls around. no boys. it would be just the two of you in your own world, but it was on a time limit. 
your hand found the back of his neck, leaning into his lips, but you pulled back when you heard some whispering– paparazzi. 
you said nothing as you shifted past him, ripping his head from your neck. he looked confused before he glanced towards the growing crowd around the hotel entrance, some phones being whipped out to record. but he honestly didn’t give a fuck. 
but you did. the last thing you wanted was to be plastered as a whore all over your feed. you still needed your fucking job. 
“what,” he said, coming closer to you. you took a distancing step back. he came closer. you didn’t move this time. “you didn’t miss me?”
him and his fucking ego. 
but you did. 
“want me to show you?” you spun around, full of sass. he let out a light laugh, pressing his shoulders back and straightening his posture. little to your knowledge, he was rendered speechless and his dick tightened in his pants. blood flooded to his abdomen, which had him shifting on his feet. this fucking girl. 
“come on,” you cooed, nudging his arm. “i came here to celebrate, no? and you haven’t even bought me a drink yet!” you got him there. he nodded, quickling showing you up to his hotel room in miami. it was a beautiful room with a living room and a single bedroom with a king bed. 
when you were up there you got a good look, running your hands over the fabric of the couch and the untouched champagne sitting on the coffee table. “this doesn’t count,” you picked up the bottle, turning to face lando from where he stood, placing your luggage on an armchair. 
“what? not expensive enough for you?” you rolled your eyes at him, placing the bottle back down on the platter with the glasses. you made haste opening your suitcase, rummaging through the outfits you brought for the duration of your stay, and in particular, your dress. 
you pulled out the carefully folded fabric. you held it out in front of you, impressed by the lack of wrinkles, and turned to lando. 
his jaw fell agape, staring at the magnificent piece. it was a longer dress that went to your mid calf, and sparkled in the dim lights of the room. he moved closer to you, running his fingers over the fabric. you gulped in his presence. 
“shit,” he sighed out, followed by a laugh. “better put it on now.” you raised a brow at him, confused. “else we won’t make it out that fuckin’ door.” 
you stifled a giggle and ran towards the bathroom, changing quickly. 
there was a knock at the front door when you were just finishing up your look. lando answered when you peeked your head out of the archway to the bathroom. it was carlos. 
“ready yet, mate?” 
lando shrugged, moving out the way so carlos could make eye contact with you. he said your name with a cheer, brushing past lando to wrap his arms around you. he kissed both your cheeks in greeting, you returned it. lando hummed to himself, wondering what that kind of affection was like from you. guess he’d never know, huh? too intimate, the words rang in his head. 
fuck off. 
“you flew today?” carlos asked you. you nodded. 
“had to celebrate, didn’t i?” you let out a giggle, covering your stained lips when you glanced at lando who was focused elsewhere, his jaw clenching. it had your joy dying in your throat, suddenly feeling like there wasn’t any reason to smile at all. 
“of course!” carlos cheered, slapping lando on the back which had him falling back to earth. “can’t believe he finally did it.” lando’s first ever formula one win was an astronomical achievement. you wish you could’ve been there in person. 
“neither can i…” your voice trailed when you were focused on his freckled face. a constellation, you called it, and could lose yourself in counting them. and lando was looking at you and your beautiful face. he was addicted to you, he learned, and no girl could fuck him like you could. 
carlos glanced between the two of you and raised his brows. “right, then.” he cleared his throat. “let’s get going then, yeah? got the whole grid celebrating you, lando!”
you were quick to put on your heels and grab your clutch. lando waited by the door for you, holding the door open. 
when you brushed by him, he grabbed your arm and twisted you around. he pushed his head close to your chest, which had you flushing. 
“lando!” you scolded beneath your breath. 
“you smell like me,” he raised a brow. 
shit. you thought he wouldn’t notice. “grabbed your cologne on accident. was rushing…replaced it with mine, see?” you raised your wrist for him to smell and he did, nose brushing against your sensitive skin. your veins pumped just beneath a thin layer. you felt him inhale and you had shivers running up your spine. he glanced at you again, dropping your hand. 
“think mine’s better.”
he meant it. you smelling just like him had him on fucking edge. he didn’t understand why it mattered to him to such a high degree. the primal inclination soaring right over his head, but he knew you were his for the night. longer he would wish, but he would take anything he could get from you. 
you only rolled your eyes at him, proceeding to walk down the hall. he caught up with you, hand coming to your lower back to guide you. when you made it to the elevator, he stuck his head into your neck again, breath hot as it fanned against your skin. you leaned into him, but stomped your heeled foot. 
“lando…” 
he grumbled something inaudible. 
“speak, won’t you?” you gripped his chin, pulling him upward. 
“driving me fuckin’ crazy.”
your breath caught in your throat. he was always touchy, but it was never this intense. the way he grumbled against the skin of your throat, the needy vibrations which plucked deeply at the strings of your heart. but there shouldn’t be any of your heart involved.
“you’re just a madman, then.” 
he chuckled. “gonna lock me up?” 
if only, you wanted to say, but held your tongue. 
“papaya does look good on you.” you giggled, hand roaming his chest. but you were right about his madness. he was sickeningly crazy. he should be institutionalized, even, in the comfort of your home. what a hell that would be, wouldn’t it?
the drive to the club was short. it wasn’t very far from the hotel. the inside of his expensive mclaren had you dazzled, though it wasn’t really his, just a rental whilst he was in miami. still, your fingers found the pleasure of finding the leather that boarded the doors, wondering just how much leather you could adorn as decoration. 
lando, on the other hand, was white knuckling the steering wheel the entire time, debating whether or not his hand would find a good home on the skin of your thigh. your dress had been too long for that, though, and he didn’t…fuck, he didn’t even know. he was anxious to be with you this weekend, not hesitating to call you to be the first one to come down to congratulate him.
he had so many other girls. why did he choose you? he didn’t know it himself, wasn’t sure if he was ready to face such intense truths, but his heart led him astray dialing your phone number. he didn’t even hesitate nor want to connect with another girl, just you. 
fucking hell, and you looked heavenly in that dress. he would spend the entire fucking night shifting his pants to hide his stark boner from your eyes. 
rolling up to the club, he gave his keys to the valet and you stepped out, fixing the fabric of your scrunched dress. you made your way over to him, elegant as ever, when the cameras began to flash. the amount of attention frightened you, and your phone fell to the ground. it clattered against the pavement. 
lando reached down smoothly to pick it up for you, his movements lingering for a moment. when he rose, his hand grazed the back of your exposed calf, trailing up your body to rest on the fabric of your lower back, the top of your ass. you wanted to swat his hand away teasingly, but for the night…you’d allow it. the cameras flashed more and more. lando only separated from you to take a few selfies with fans, but that had been it. 
his hand found your back once more, pulling the fabric down that was scrunched at the back. he also did it as an excuse to rest his hand on your ass. guilty!
and you let him. more cameras flashed. he was yours for the evening. so you’d relish in the momentary fame, but would surely be horrified by the comments the next morning. but fuck it, you looked hot in this dress and wouldn’t let these heels go to waste. let them envy you, for you were surely going to envy the next girl on his arm. what? no you weren’t. that thought was fleeting. you were shocked that you imagined of such a scenario. 
inside the club was an ambiance of celebratory cadence. it was lively. the bright lights, cheering on goers. everyone seemed to swarm lando, congratulating him and patting him on the back. he was so happy here. 
you attempted to shimmy out of the limelight to give him the attention he deserved, but he tightened his hold on you, digging his fingertips into your waist. you were surprised, looking at him with confusion, but he didn’t even take his eyes off of one of the mclaren engineers who attended the festivities. 
playing arm candy wasn’t your specialty, but you had the basics down. smile and laugh. straight posture. being fucking perfect. easy stuff, you know? surely sitting in an office chair for your day to day would enthuse a straight spine. surely listening to your old, ratty coworkers jokes would have you rolling with laughter and smiles. surely it was the easiest thing in the world to be perfect for lando norris–
your name was called by a girl at your side. it was alexandra!
you gasped, swinging out of lando’s arms and throwing yourself into her. she caught you, looking absolutely elegant while doing it, and smiled into your hair. 
“thank god you’re here!” you cheered, your hands landing on her shoulders to steady yourself. she looked stunning this evening. but she always did. you envied her for that much. 
“of course!” her french accent was sweet and endearing. her voice was even softer. “none of us would miss it. i’m glad you’re here!” 
alexandra and you had grown a relationship over the past few years you’ve been acquainted with lando. she seemed to always be where you were, and by coincidence, the two of you followed each other on tiktok and realized you had, if not, the same humor. you began messaging each other back and forth, and there you had it– a beautiful friendship between the two of you. being long distance best friends was hard, but it was times like these that you were grateful to see her. 
lando had froze when he felt you slip from his grasp, a horrible feeling of incomprehensible dread washing over him that he couldn’t pinpoint why. he interrupted the conversation he was having to see you with your arms wrapped around alexandra, kissing both of her cheeks. his face flushed, hand tightening on the drink he was given by his mates. 
why not him? 
lando excused himself and clung to your side. you jumped at the feeling of his hand around your waist, eyes snapping up to meet his… irritated ones? you were at a loss as to what could warrant such a look, but you didn’t let it linger when you shifted closer to him, your hips against his thighs. he seemed to relax both his body and face, giving alexandra a smile.
she was amidst congratulating him when charles and carlos approached. rebecca at carlos’ side. 
“is this a party or…?” charles remarked, luring you all to the center of the room to dance. lando glanced at you. you could feel his eyes, but you didn’t meet them. not yet. you thought that if you had, you wouldn’t be able to stop tonight. not with how good he looked, not with how he smelled. 
on the dance floor was no better. his hands were all over you. it was a bittersweet homecoming to feel so close to you, so flustered. but you loved the way he made you feel. pure adrenaline. alive. your hips swayed and grinded into his own, him matching your pace with a drink in his hand. there had been one in yours too, but you downed it already. 
at one point when the beat dropped, they all began to shout his name. you included. his cheeky little smile had him muster the courage to down his drink, emptying the large glass. whoops and hollers filled the club, and there were no more words to describe how magical this night was for him. he would remember it forever, and you couldn’t blame him. 
he was magnificent in the spotlight. with a charming tongue, funny jokes, and charisma that had him swooping up any girl he could want. there were a pack of women surrounding him before he pulled you by the arm, interrupting your conversation with alexandra, twirling you to be plastered against his side. the women’s attention didn’t last long after that. 
“cheeky, aren’t you?” you raised your lips to his ears, daring to lay one against the top of his throat. you felt him swallow, his adams apple thick and bobbing. 
“don’t like to be a cornered animal.” you knew it was meant to be a joke, but there was a layer of truth to it that you couldn’t ignore. lando didn’t do well in crowds without flustering with anxiety. to that truth about him, you could toast to. 
you were back on the floor with him in a matter of minutes, engaging in conversation with alexandra and charles. lando was talking to others as well, but he was firm against your back, hand on your stomach. the action had you blushing, unable to forget any time that he’d lay his hands there, asking if you could feel him. and you could. now, you could feel the imprint of his cock behind you. you didn’t know how he could last this long without asking you to fuck him in the bathroom, but you weren’t complaining. 
yet!
steadily as the night progressed, he would be laced with sweat and the smell of him. a mix of body odor, sure, it smelt like lando. your lando for the night. he flashed you a smile as he leaned over your body from behind, both hands gripping your hips against him. 
you returned the gesture, but were much more bashful than he anticipated. you were giving him that look. a look that he had become trained to respond to. his dick instantly hardened. pavlov was onto something, wasn’t he? 
you both had been there for hours. you could only handle so many more amped up bass drops. and you were both plastered enough. it was around four in the morning when you were tumbling out, giggling and laughing at who knows what. 
one of the valet club drivers even drove the both of you back to the hotel. neither of you are in the state to drive. 
in the car, one of your legs was atop his, slotted between his thighs. you could feel his pulsing cock and your mouth watered at the sensation. he was staring at you through dangerously dark eyes, reflecting back your own stare of desire. it was like looking in a mirror for the both of you. ravaging and desperate to have one another’s hands on each other’s bodies. 
lando took liberty and lowered his head to your exposed shoulder, pulling down a thin strap of your dress to your bicep. he kissed the skin tenderly, an action too intimate for your own good, but you were too fucking drunk to deny it. 
“fucking beautiful,” he muttered into your skin, quiet for only your ears to touch. you let your fingers trace up the side of his face lazily, feeling your gaze spinning beneath his tender words. 
“i’m proud of you,” you whispered, brushing a stray curl from his sticky forehead up into the rest of his hairs. “you know that, don’t you?” 
your voice had been tender. delicious to his drunken ears. though he knew he’d remember this sober– he had a feeling. how could he forget that tone of voice, your gentle touch, clearly breaking the bounds of what was too intimate.
he gulped, eyes flaring wide at your declaration. his hand found your thighs then, gripping the soft flesh with depth. 
your fingers traced down to his bottom lip, puckering the flesh, but dropped to the car seat with a laugh. you brushed off his shocked expression, leaning back into the cool leather. but his grip didn’t relent. he kept his eyes on you, too, unable to find something else to fixate on. you were the object of all of his desires. he confirmed it then when he was desperate to hear more of your unsolicited praises from your lips. 
he craved your lips. 
lando’s head dropped to your waist, his face nuzzling into your soft flesh. he kissed through the fabric of your dress, desperate to feel you beneath such a guarding sheath from your skin. you turned your head to look at him from where your gaze latched to the window, your hand rolling down the curve of his neck. 
you kept your hand there for the remainder of the drive, but didn’t look down at him. you knew you’d be face with those desperate, glistening green eyes of his. you’d fall weak beneath the light of his love, and you’d find yourself disappointed when he didn’t want what you did. a relationship, dare you think it just for one second. 
the valet driver dropped the two of you off and was able to manage a cab on his own back to the club. lando tipped him a hundred euros for his time, beginning to sober himself enough to walk in a straight line and speak without slurring his speech. 
you were the same. stretching your legs from the car, hands above your head in a dramatic feline stretch. lando’s eyes were on you the entire time, gaping at your figure. your ass. his lip caught between his teeth, and you caught him ogling. 
your hips began to sway beneath the music of his eyes. you’re unable to resist his humorous allure, crumbling the second the second the corner of his eyes uplifted. a smile followed, his gapped, perfect, teeth shimmering the reflections of the pale moonlight. 
he stretched out his arm for you to join him at his side. you sashayed there, twirling in your heels that ached your feet. but you did it for him. you’d do it all, though the alcohol was driving your thoughts. 
lando swooped you into his grasp, wrapping his arms around your waist and digging his fingertips into your hips. you laughed amicably, his presence both a comfort and a feat of pride. 
you mustered the strength to break his hold, trotting up the steps of the hotel. your heels were loud in the quiet, tender moments of the rising miami sun, and your giggles even more so. lando wasn’t far behind, skipping the steps to catch up with you. 
you’d never seen him hit an elevator button harder. you resisted the urge to laugh, knowing it was an impossible situation to be so loud at dawn. so you bit your fist in your mouth, choking down a sound that lando yearned to hear. 
when the elevator arrived he jumped right in, dragging you along– though it’s not like you hesitated– by your elbow. 
he immediately began trailing kisses down your throat, the column of your neck, your collarbones, shoulders. he left no place untouched by his devout, worshipping lips. he’d often say in the heat of the moment that you were the best thing he’s ever tasted– a man feral for your sweet nectar– but you just thought it to be the post-euphoria sex high. 
the british driver muttered something into your neck which had your eyes flaring wide, uncertain if you heard him correctly. 
you pushed his head back, gripping at the curls near the base of his neck. “what did you say?”
he looked flushed. embarrassed. he choked on his words, shaking his head. he was clearly brushing it off. 
“nothin’.”
he resumed devouring your neck, saliva dripping onto your dress, but his words bubbled. 
the ding of the elevator alerted both of you. he was the one to lead the way to his hotel room, swiftly opening the door with skilled ease, and had you against the wall in minutes. he gripped at the fabric of your dress, tempting to rip it. you hissed with contempt. “don’t,” he looked up at you with heavy eyes and a half toothed smirk, challenging you. “too expensive.” 
you felt him scoff against the skin of your chest. “‘too expensive.’” he mocked. 
but he heeded your words, gentle with how he lowered the straps to your forearms. your head lolled against the wall, eyes glistening with liquidated pleasure. there was nothing better in the world that could feel better than lando norris’ lips against your skin. each press was a blessing, a kiss of life, hungry for the divination you relented this evening. 
“so fucking beautiful,” he breathed when he shimmied you out of the dress, neatly undoing the zipper. you wore nothing under the dress besides panties, which had his eyes gawking at your taut, perked nipples. you shifted forward, desperate for his touch on your suddenly cold body. 
lando didn’t wait. his cock was already painfully hard in his pants, punishing the fabric for being so restrictive. he pulsated, precum already ruining the pair. 
his lips found your nipple, other palm fisting the firm flesh. you let out a sweet moan that was delicious to his starving ears, your hips bucking into his for a relenting yearn for release. he let out the deepest chuckle from his throat, finding such impending amusement for your desire. 
when he was contempt with the titillation of your nipples, he moved to the skin of your belly, biting softly at the skin. enough to leave bruises for his own eyes when he’d see you next. next. there was always a next with you. 
but you had other plans. 
your hands reached for his face, pulling him to meet your eyes. his own blew wide, flickering to your lips, to your eyes. 
“let me,” you whimpered, reaching for the buckle of his pants. he’d stop you, usually intending on getting you off with his lips or tongue before he could even cum. but tonight, he couldn’t resist your lips. you looked up at him with pure heaven written in your iris’. 
he swallowed before nodding his head rapidly, his forehead leaning into yours. “yeah, yeah, please.” 
lando norris wasn’t a man to beg. he didn’t have to do any of that shit for his other girls– they were always eager to please him, fuck him, suck him off– but for you…
your lips found his neck, feeling the thick muscles with your tongue. it was arousing how muscular each part of his body was, thundering with endurance. 
there was a soft mewl in his throat when you slid your hand down the front of his pants, beneath his briefs, over the length of his cock. the sound excited you tenfold– wishing that you could hear it a hundred times over again. it was addicting how he wanted you. 
when your finger grazed his tip, his hips bucked instinctively into you, just how yours had. he cursed under his breath, letting his head fall limp into the crevice of your neck. 
you laughed into his skin, finally falling to your knees to drop his pants and briefs. his cock sprung free, red and vibrating for your touch. your touch. you often wondered how his other girls treated him. if you were better, if you were the worst. obviously not the worst if he was the one to call you after his first win, right?
one hand stroked his length, traveling to his balls, simultaneously glancing up at him. he was staring down at you, riddled with urgency, a pleading look reflecting in your eyes. his bottom lip caught between his teeth when his hand found the back of your head, stroking the sides of your face. 
his thumb caressed your bottom lip. it caused your lips to open for him, and his thumb found your tongue. you swirled it around the pad of his finger, never breaking the shared look between you two. you let him go with a pop, and he found his hand at the base of your neck again, hand wrapping a makeshift ponytail with his hand. 
your lips swirled around the head of his cock, swallowing the precum that dampened his briefs. he held back a rumble in his throat which annoyed you, so you took him wide in your mouth, bottoming him out in the back of your throat. 
your cunt clenched around nothing when his whole body sang in praise of your lips. he faltered when you began a steady pace of back and forth, stimulating his balls with your other hand. curses fell from his lips, sinful words, and he gripped your hair tightly. with his other one, he fell forward against the wall, bracing for dear life.
but you didn’t relent. faster and faster you went, and you were awarded by his hips snapping into you, cock gagging your windpipe. you choked, tears forming in your eyes, but it was divine how satisfying it was. to see his eyes rolling back into his head, hands shaking, desperate to feel you up. from this position, below him, you could see the entire world. you had it all on the tip of your tongue. 
“fuck, baby…” he groaned. you felt so good around him. warm and tight. it felt like fucking home for him. somewhere he’d always come back to. and he would. no other girl could make him feel this way, had him about to cum in a matter of three minutes. your lips were made to take his cock, and he would yell that to hell and back for the entire world to know. 
he felt you moan against his cock, the sound echoing in your throat. he swallowed harshly, drool dripping down the side of his chin at the sight of you alone. you were perfect. 
and when your hand came to run over your nipples, kneading at the skin of your breasts, he felt his abdomen tighten. you found so much pleasure in sucking him off that you felt the need to touch yourself. fuck, he never thought he’d see something so hot in his entire life. 
he knew he’d been done for in a matter of seconds. with a firm grip of your hair, he pulled you back from his cock. you looked offended, disappointed when the drool from your lips trailed down your chin. 
“not yet,” he uttered, gripping the side of your face with his other hand. his cock was angry, furious at the lack of attention. he was practically fucking edging himself. “wanna cum inside you.” 
say less, you wished to say, but all that came out from your lips was a whine. 
and then you were laid out on your back on his bed. the white sheets were clean and made, cold beneath your scorching skin. 
lando traced two fingers up your thigh, the junction of your hips, your waist. you shivered, toes clenching at the sensation. then to your naval, your pussy, your dampened underwear. a ruined pair, no doubt. he smirked, lip curling. 
“all for me, huh?” 
you nodded instantly. 
his hand slapped against your flushed pussy. you whimpered, grasping at the sheets. 
“words, pretty girl.”
“yes!” you gasped when you felt him tug the underwear down your legs. “you, you, you, lando. all you.”
he practically purred. your folds were swollen and glistening, drenched from how his cock pounded into your mouth. “so wet,” he observed, twisting his fingers to trail up your slit, gathering the slick between his fingers. he raised the pair to his mouth, tasting your sweet juice on his tongue. your legs pulsed together, eager for friction, a quiet mewl leaving your throat at the sight. “tastes like heaven.”
“lando…” you were getting impatient now. rightfully so. he stood there with his hardened cock, teasing you with his firm fingers. 
“what’dya want, baby? hm?” he asked, knowing damn well what the answer would be. yet he’d trace his hands gently up the sides of your body, fingers dancing over your nipples. you writhed. 
“you.” you said endearingly. “fuck me, lan, please.” 
he was so impressed with your manners that he couldn’t resist slipping his cock inside of you. atop of you he caged you in, a blessed enclosure, lips pressing to your exposed chest. you whined at the initial stretch, always finding yourself so tight around his thick cock. 
“fuck, lando.” you hissed, teeth clenching at his immaculate girth. it was a pleasurable burn, and your arousal only had you clenching around him. he huffed through his nose, hot hair breathing over your skin. 
“i know, baby,” he reassured you with his bittersweet voice. “y’can take me, can’t you? always such a good girl for me.” 
you whined at his words, low moan bellowing in your throat. you squelched with your slick and he could feel it. he smirked, having the gall to chuckle, even. but you didn’t punish him for it, especially not when he began to move his hips back and forth, a pair of fingers coming to rub against the bundle of nerves placatated at your clit. 
the sensation of feeling him slip in and out of you was impeccable. you could find no other pleasure than his cock nestled inside of you, filling you to the absolute hilt of your dreams. the imprint of his dick had him riled with lust when it ran over your lower belly. 
“feel me here,” his hand came to grab yours, bringing it to the imprint of his cock inside of you. “don’t you?” 
you nodded, lip catching between your teeth and opposite hand threading through his curls as if you were a needle and thread. “so good, lando, please. keep going.” 
and he did. if you asked him to do anything right now, he would’ve. the slapping of skin echoed in the hotel room, filling silence with vulgar sounds from both of your lips. lando was a moaning mess at the pulses of your cunt, intent on sucking him dry from his cum. and he was an expert at navigating your clit, pinching and swirling the rough pads of his fingers. 
your eyes rolled in the back of his head when you bucked your hips for a better angle. “deeper,” you said, finding a grim satisfaction at the thought of him splitting you open. 
his eyes flashed to yours, bloodshot and red with lust, and shifted so your thighs were over his shoulders. your back arched for him and he was pleased to see your receptiveness. his hips didn’t falter, and neither did his hands. 
this angle had been more than what any gospel could provide. more than any destiny written out for you. fucking him was written in the stars, you knew it for certain, and you blossomed into a glistening constellation before him. for he was the entire universe for you, and you just a mere fractal in the midst of it all. 
but oh, how that wasn’t true. how you were the sun in which he orbited, woke up and thought of. you were the first person that he called after his father, needing your presence with him in miami. he needed this. your cunt. your pleasures, your moans. you, it was on the tip of his tongue, edging its way forward through the kisses he laid upon your neck. 
you were drenched in his saliva, coated in the thick musk of lando norris. he would never say it aloud but he dreamed of the day to see his cum dripping down your thighs, full of him, the remnants of your love affair sticky and haughty with each step that you’d take. 
it was a primal instinct that became so vicious. it overtook him, thwarting him into a dick-measuring contest whenever you went out with him. he’d keep you close. his, the message would be clear. no man would approach you when he had his hand on your lower back, your hips in his hands, your pelvis grinding against his own. you were his own keepsake. the light at the end of the tunnel. a brazen warrior that he’d follow into any battle. 
the only battle he was intending on winning was the war of your heart, blessed be his troops. 
it only took a few more harsh thrusts of his cock and twiddling of his fingers before you were painfully close to a release. he could feel it. he knew it like the back of his hand. your trembling legs, intense writhing against his hold, your breathy moans. he wished he could take a picture of you, flushed and desperate, and keep it in his wallet. 
“come on, baby.” he urged, feeling the own heat of his orgasm rising in his lower stomach. he had been resisting the urge to cum for your sake, always finding a deeper satisfaction in seeing your overstimulated face after the fact. 
“come for me, won’t you? pretty thing. i’ve got you,” the words of praise that were only meant for you. he didn’t call any of his other girls ‘baby’, but you wouldn’t know that. you couldn’t know. it would ruin all of this, wouldn’t it? wouldn’t it? 
i’ve got you, he said tenderly. it’s what had you compulsing, drenching his cock in your slick. your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in the euphoria of what was lando norris’ pleasure. 
he was staring at your worn out face, his own tongue coming to swipe at his bottom lip. he was ready to feast on you. 
lando’s own orgasm was swift to follow. the rhythm of his hips faltered, sloppily, aggressively. the overstimulation against the walls of your cunt was delectable. 
“come for me,” you begged him. it had his eyes flaring once more, shocked to hear such a request from your pretty lips. “inside me, lan, need it…” 
“fuck…” he groaned, and with one last snap of his hips he was spilling out inside of you. his forehead fell into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily. your chests moved in unison, catching your breaths after such an intense fuck. 
you were sticky against him. his body fell atop of yours, and your hands wrapped around his back. one hand came to run up and down his neck again, which had his eyes fluttering with sleep. but he didn’t let himself, and instead moved to get a towel for you both.
he slipped outside of you, the warmth of your cunt had his expression falling. he saw your face, too, empty once he made his way to the on suite. he grabbed a handheld towel and ran it under the warm water, and crossed the space between the bathroom and the bed. 
lando let it run up your thighs, between your legs. your cunt was swollen still, his cum thick and dripping from your slit. he smirked to himself, cleaning the remnants of himself from the immediate vicinity, but wouldn’t go further. 
you were aware. entirely too aware of how warm you felt. how filled you were. it was filthy how good sex with him was. you could never orgasm with any man but him. 
lando fell to the bed beside you, opening the sheet for you to slip in beside him. you hesitated, never having spent an entire night with him, except for a few drunk evenings. did this count? you weren’t sure. you’d certainly remember that mind blowing orgasm. 
but his eyes were drooping with sleep, weary when you hesitated. you couldn’t resist, and slid in beside him, comforted by the furnace of his body. 
lando’s head found home, once more, in the side of your neck. you brushed the hairs from his sweating forehead, roamed through his scalp. you ran circles through his hair until you heard the soft snores coming from him. it only took a few seconds for him to fall asleep in your arms and for once, you were perfectly content with that. if this was what your life would be, then so be it. 
the british driver woke approximately twenty four hours later. 
when he woke, you were not there. 
he was startled as he searched for you, but there was no sign of you. he sat up in his bed, sun peeking in through the curtains. he rubbed his eyes, hand resting on the spot that you had laid in. there was an imprint from your body. 
when he checked his phone, he knew he was in deep shit. 
“fuck.” it really had been a full day that he slept through.
but there were no texts from you. 
his gut tightened, heart beating loudly in his throat. why are there no texts from you? 
he scanned the room to find a glass of water on the nightstand, previously iced from the ring of water around the side of it. and there was a note, too, with some ibuprofen. he picked it up. 
had a good night
proud of you always
text me when you’re up x
and it was signed by you. 
he folded the piece of paper.
he supposed it was a good night. the best sex he’s ever had, in fact, and wouldn’t forget his own confession in the elevator. he wasn’t sure if you heard it or not, but there was a part of him that wanted you to. 
“you were always my favorite,” he spoke into the column of your neck. 
the next time you saw lando was in monaco. 
you were back home and invited by alexandra to the paddocks for the home race of charles. you accepted, of course, hoping to catch a glimpse of lando. 
you hadn’t texted him much, but neither had he. you heard first from him on that tuesday morning and it had you smiling at the airport, bags in hand. you texted back, and it was sporadic from there on out. it’s been a few days since either of you’ve said a word, and it was beginning to wane on you. 
alexandra repeated your name. 
“yeah?” you responded, head snapping towards her direction. 
“i asked if you were feeling alright.” 
“oh.” you breathed, laughing it off. “of course, do i not seem okay?” alexandra shook her head, petting leo’s little head in her hands. 
“you’ve been quiet, that’s all.” 
and you had been. but since she noticed, you were determined to make her forget about it. 
“nervous for charles,” you lied. but alexandra bought it and agreed with you, shedding her anxieties for her boyfriend’s home race. 
you were standing on the balcony with her in ferrari’s hospitality. you looked elegant today, matching alexandra’s own vibe. your hands were clasped together as you were leaning down, watching the drivers go in and out for their free practice. 
alexandra was still ranting about how nervous she was for charles when you saw him.
the papaya was noticeable from anywhere. 
lando
lando and company. 
a girl trailing behind him. her hair was done neatly, blonde, painfully thin. you grimaced against your will, face scrunching with a bitterness you had never felt before. 
alexandra tapped your elbow before she looked down at what you were staring at. 
“asshole.” she remarked, scoffing. 
you raised a brow. “you think so?”
alexandra nodded as if it was obvious. “don’t know why he brings them around,” she sighed. “not when he could have you.” 
you never felt so flattered before. you blushed, thanking her for saying something so kind. though you denied having feelings for him. she knew it was a lie this time. 
lando glanced up at the balcony, finding your eyes inevitably. he could feel your stare at the back of his head. 
and he fucking waved. 
the girl beside him looked up, too, but she did not. 
you could see lando’s smile from up here, but in your intensive bitterness, you did not wave back. you stood and turned to go back into ferrari’s hospitality, not thinking twice about your decision. 
the rest of the weekend you spent in bitter earnest. you’ve never seen yourself in such a state. but you plastered on a smile for alexandra and charles, entirely too elated when he crossed the finish line first in monaco. you held her as she weeped with joy. 
and, of course, you were invited to the festivities for the evening. your attitude was soured by the girl latched to lando’s arm throughout the entire weekend. but he looked so nonchalant with her, careless. none of it mattered. you’d put on your best dress for the evening. 
in the club you were found nursing a martini in your hand, not quaint on the taste, but were keen on getting wasted. you didn’t want to deal with whatever shit storm of emotions were brewing inside of your head. seeing lando with another girl was not new for you to witness. it was the norm, in fact, and you never thought about it otherwise.
but something changed that night of his win in miami. you knew it. he knew it. the words he uttered into your neck in that elevator was sending you up the wall and skyrocketing into the abyss of the universe. and you believe that somehow, he would find you.
he would find you. 
lando saw you instantly when you entered with alexandra and charles. rebecca and carlos paired together, too, leaving you the odd one out with no arm candy on display. good, the thought was impulsive. 
the girl beside him was giggling at something he said. but it wasn’t meant as a joke. he was convinced that she just had no idea what he was talking about, and was eager for a good fuck from him. he knew his skills of pleasure were not in comparison to any low life dude, but no girl could fulfill the void of receptiveness. of yearning desire. 
so when he tilted his head back to down the rest of his drink, he grimaced at the taste, and turned back to the girl he brought with him. but he kept stealing glances at you in your short dress. it was like you were punishing him– were you? he suddenly felt like a dog, a bad boy, reared and chained to the dog house outside your house of a heart. 
but you didn’t see him. not for a while, actually. you were intent on staying true to your morals– staying away from him this evening. he only brought trouble for you. confusion. you were sick of this back and forth, and most importantly, this rotten feeling of jealousy. it wasn’t a good look on you, or so you thought. 
“dance with me?” alexandra asked you. you accepted, of course, grabbing her hand and holding it high above the crowds as she led you to the dance floor. you were both twirling and laughing with your drinks in hand, purely electric with the rap music. charles joined her, gripping her from behind. you couldn’t help but watch, gulping down the feeling of envy. 
alexandra noticed. she knew what you were going through, even if you wouldn’t say it aloud. your ‘relationship’ with lando has gone on for far too long without any real commitment. everyone knew he was your favorite girl to be around, except you. you were the only one, apparently, who didn’t know that lando looked at you like a goddess reincarnate. 
and when you shook off your thoughts of envy, your eyes found another pair staring back at you.
sharp emeralds, piercing through the musk of the club.
your breath hitched, catching solemnly in your throat. 
the blonde was grinding up against him, throwing her head back against his shoulders. one hand was on her hip, the other with an empty shot glass in his hand. the girl was enjoying herself, at least, and you wondered if he fucked her the same as he did you. 
his eyes didn’t leave yours as his hips swayed in motion with hers. his hair was disheveled, a coat of sweat gleaning on his forehead. 
the pair of you were waiting to see who would break first. who would succumb to the challenge. you wanted so desperately to win, to grab another random man and kiss on his neck, but you were detested. 
the air inside the club felt heavy, and the world would collapse on you. the weight was too much on your shoulders as you became lightheaded. 
“i need air,” you said to alexandra before you fled from the dance floor, leaving your glass on the counter. 
the air of monaco was brisk when it pierced your skin, your thighs, your shoulders. but it was a much needed refreshment from the confines of that fucking club. you felt nauseous, sickened by lando’s eye contact with you. how dare he. 
you looked around before turning the corner of the club, seeing a pair of men smoking a cigarette. 
“care to share?” 
the men glanced at one another and the one holding the pack nodded. he handed you one and you placed it to your lips. he held out the lighter, too, and lit it for you. 
you weren’t one to smoke. it was a drunk cigarette kind of night. 
they insisted on you staying with them, talking each other up to be some pair of scrouges who deserved your attention. you politely declined their advances and walked the other way, feeling colder when the tobacco hit your lungs. 
when you blew out your first puff, it wasn’t long before the cigarette was ripped from your lips. 
“hey–” 
“this shit isn’t good for you.” 
lando.
he found you out here. rather, he chased you out. the minute he saw you turn your back he scrambled, pushing past every person that came in his way.
you scoffed, unable to look at him as you crossed your arms. 
“you don’t know what’s good for me.”
he paused, sucking in a tight breath. his jaw clenched. the cigarette was thrown to the ground, crushed beneath his foot. 
“rude–” you uttered, cut off when he grabbed your elbow. that had you looking at him. and his expression didn’t disappoint.
his eyes were widened, pupils blown wide as he looked into your own. his lip trembled momentarily, jaw entirely too tight for his own good. 
“what’s going on with you?” he wondered, holding eye contact with you. 
“nothing.” you answered instantly, brushing him off. but he didn’t accept that. 
“‘nothing,’” he mocked. “you’re not a very good liar.” 
you hummed. “thanks.” 
the conversation widdled down, but he wasn’t about to give up. 
“tell me,” he requested, his face pulling closer to yours. you had to give it to him. he was determined. but you were too.
“there’s nothing to tell.” you bit back. 
“i care about you. come on–” your name fell sweetly from his lips. he was prepared to grovel at any second now. 
but you cut him off. “ohhh…! yeah, right, you care? pfft, no need to pretend, lando.” 
he pulled back, shocked that you got in his face. your words were cruel, but he felt the double meaning behind them. 
“what?” he asked, softly. you knew then that he was hurt. 
but jealousy was a monster.
“i wish i was as stupid as you think i am.” you rambled, hands thrown up with emotion. but you were done with this conversation. “fuck it, i’m leaving–”
but he used his other hand to ground you before him. “don’t.” he pleaded. eyes watering. 
“what? like you’d notice?” 
then the bells chimed in his head. an alert that he understood what this was. he was stupid in not knowing what was happening before him. 
you’re jealous. 
“didn’t take you for a jealous type.”
you scoffed. “you’re ridiculous.”
but he shook his head and tsked. “can’t believe it, baby, that you hid it for so long.” 
“fuck you.”
he blew out a huff of air as if he were wounded, hand coming to run over his chest. it was a fatal one, that was for sure. you tried again to push past him, but to no avail nor universe would he let you go. 
“come home with me.”
his words were determined, sincere, though there was a layer of softness to it. like unsweetened honey that poured from his lips. 
you stared at him. “what?” 
he laughed. “you heard me. let me take you home.”
you couldn’t tell if he was being serious. couldn’t tell if he was mocking you. your facial expression dropped from its intense anger. 
“don’t…” you started, feeling the heat of emotions that you’ve been burying come to the surface. your eyes swelled with tears but fuck, you promised you’d never cry over him. “don’t be mean, lando.”
his smile dropped. he knew then that you weren’t playing around, messing with him in the ways you usually had. what was this feeling inside of him? guilt? he wanted nothing more than to fix whatever he’s done. the instinct blazed a fire through his veins, igniting a deep rooted reaction that he feared only you could bring out of him. 
his hand came to cup your cheek. you flinched backward, staring at the palm of his hand through your wet lashes, but allowed his touch. 
“come here…” his hand dropped from your cheek to hold out for you to melt into. an invitation for a hug. 
you hesitated, shifting closer on your tip toes. when you were in close enough reach, he grabbed you, earning a yelp. 
his body was warm. he pulled you flush against his chest, his head coming to rest on your shoulder. his hands were wrapped firmly around your torso. was he shaking? 
he was. lando was wrought with a surplus of emotion when he saw your anger diffuse. he loved to feel all of your emotions, it reminded him that you cared about him. but when he saw it disappear, faze into an abyss of melancholy, his heart set into overdrive. he never got such a rush of adrenaline before. not from racing. not from anything else in his life.
you relaxed into him, shutting your eyes. there was a wet stain from the single tears that fell from your face on his shirt. 
but you didn’t care. he smelled so good. it was lando. your lando. 
“let me take you home.”
your nose buried into his shirt. his stubble dug into your neck. 
“your place,” you muttered. “i want to go to yours.” 
his place was always for special occasions. but to your unbeknownst knowledge, you were the only girl he’s ever taken there. the only woman he’s fucked in his bed. 
he stuttered. “yeah,” he cleared his throat. “yeah, of course we can.”
you didn’t even end up texting alexandra goodbye. you were too wrung tight with your jealousy, coined poignantly by lando himself. he was quick to catch on to your attitude shift, but you could tell he was frightened. at least you wished for it to be. 
but he was. his heart plummeted when your anger reached him. it did more than touch him, it ripped him apart, had his heart bleeding in plain sight. anyone could see it except you. it was never you who saw the love beneath his eyes. 
lando’s apartment was just how you remembered it to be. 
open space, loosely decorated. it was rather bland. 
“you kept it!” you ran your fingers over the displayed teddy bear, one that you had won for him at a fair. 
he shut the door behind you two, locking it. he let out a soft hum. “‘course i did.” 
he said it like it was obvious. he would never get rid of anything that you’d give him. you squeezed the teddy bear in your palms, but dropped it when you felt lando’s arms wrap around your waist from behind. 
his lips found your neck in an instant. 
“i missed you.” 
you tensed. back arching, you turned your head to look at him, angled perpendicular to his face burrowed into the junction of your neck and collarbones. 
“really, now?” 
he chuckled against your skin, fanning his warm breath through your body. the hairs on the back of your neck rose instinctively, choosing to hold your breath instead of express anger. though you couldn’t help the huff through your nose. 
“you’re so vicious when you’re jealous, darling.” he thought this was funny. it angered you even more, attempting to writhe out of his hold. but he didn’t relent, keeping you taught against his chest. asshole. 
“am not.” 
he tsked. 
“sure.” he continued his trail of kisses down your neck. you fell into him, head lolling back and eyes rolling. fuck, his lips were always so good. he was so good to you. 
“am not.” you said again, biting back a moan when his hands came to your forefront, parting your legs for his hands to rest between your thighs. 
“whatever you say.” 
your hips grinded against his own in retaliation which had him humming in soft praises. his fingers trailed the lining of your panties, other hand holding your hip firmly . 
“because i’m not–” the moan that was pulled from your throat was pure divinity to lando’s ears. his fingers had run up your slit, teasing your entrance. blood ran down to your body, fueling your cunt to a puffy state. your weight went lax against his hold, which he was perfectly capable of supporting you. 
“not what?” he dared you to continue, not when he had you numb in his hold already. he was clearly cocky. you could hear the smirk in his voice. 
“i’m not–” you were determined. but lando was coming back in full force. his middle finger teased you, pushing between your slick, finding the warmth of your walls. you sucked in a tight breath, feeling just how wet you’ve become. 
“so wet, baby,” he said into your ear. “what were you saying?” 
“fuck–” you sighed, whining. “i’m not jeal–” 
and then he seized the bundle of nerves around your clit, curling his middle finger inside of you. you cursed, sweat beginning to bead around your forehead. 
“mhm.” lando proved himself right when you couldn’t mutter out a sentence, becoming dumb on his fingers alone. he began a steady pace with just a singular digit, flexing in and out of you supported by your natural lubrication.  
“more–” you pleaded. it had him standing up straight, reacting to your soft pleas like he was a dog to a treat. pavlov, and all that shit. he found himself staring down at the sight of your two– his finger etching in and out of you, drenched in your sweet nectar. if he was no better than a dog, why was he about to drool? 
“yeah? you can take another?” you were rapidly nodding against the back of his shoulder, biting your lip.
“yes, please. please, lando.” you mewled, gripping at his forearms that caged you in. you never wanted to be chained down, but for pleasure like this, you felt as though you could make an exception. 
he obeyed. adding a second finger was close enough to your release, and you knew that was barreling forward at any minute. if he kept this assault of your clit up and the delicious curl of his fingers, you would melt into a puddle. 
and you knew he would. if lando started something, he would finish it. the only priority for him was to make sure you reached an orgasm. that was a promise, forever and always. 
he found himself bucking his hips into you, the sight of you weak in his arms becoming too much for him to handle. the friction between his pants and your hot cunt was too irresistible. what can he say? you were just pure bottled heaven. 
his thumb had been applying more intense pressure to your clit. your face was entirely flushed now, brightened from his attention. he was entirely to carnal to hear the noises you made. noises for him to hear, no one else. 
but his pace was slow. teasing. you felt like this was a punishment. your lip curled, face contorting with both pleasure and angst. “please, please.” you whimpered. 
“what, baby? what do you want?” smug. always so smug. 
you gripped his hand that was flexing inside of you, tightening your grip. he chuckled deeply. 
“wanna come? that what you want?” 
your head bobbed up and down, breaths coming in fast pants. “need.” you corrected him, and he thought that he would fall dead at your feet. his jaw clenched, muscles in his arms flexing, and he would give you want you needed. 
you needed him. 
that was all that he needed to hear from you. 
you turned your head to look up at him with your bloodshot eyes, dreary with lust. lust for him. your lashes fluttered against your brow line, lip quivering with a singular wish. 
he wanted nothing more to kiss you. 
“fuck.” he groaned, your thighs were drenched in your slick, a sight he thought could never be hotter. and when he curled his two fingers sweetly, your hips bucked aggressively. he knew exactly how to navigate your body, but it was always so thrilling to see you react in such a way. 
“yeah?” he smirked, “that good?” 
“so good, lan,” the nickname you used for him was not intentional. it had his dick throbbing in his pants. fuck.
your words of praise would only have him working harder. he didn’t even need to add a third finger when your stomach snapped with tension, coming loose all over his fingers. your vision blurred, legs shaking rapidly. you cried out, head lolled against his shoulder. he held you tightly, and you didn’t miss how he stroked your hip with his thumb. a soothing action. 
how he could ever find this kind of pleasure in another woman, he didn’t know. but the challenge begged– could he ever admit that? 
his fingers remained buried in your cunt whilst you rode yourself free from your high. it was impossible to look anywhere else but you. 
and when he removed them, showing you the mess you made, his popped them into his mouth. it was such a vulgar statement, but you found yourself blushing. he sucked on his fingers, letting them out with a pop, clean as a whistle. 
“heavenly.” he reaffirmed. “no girl compares.” 
you froze, still delirious from your orgasm, but it had you spinning in his hold. he was slightly blurred in your vision, but you could make out his faintly cocky expression. 
“really, huh?” 
your attitude would have him rising, cocky attitude falling away instantly. 
he gulped. “guess so.” was this it? 
a smile grew on your face. your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, grooming through the back of his head. he smiled lazily, lip catching between his top teeth. 
but things like this didn’t last forever, did they?
there was a pounding knock at the door. it had you frightened, shifting your panties back into their rightful place. your fingers fixed your appearance the best you could, whilst lando adjusted his dick in his pants. 
“open the fucking door, lando!” 
it was a woman’s voice. 
your brow raised. 
“i know you’re in there with that bitch,” the woman seethed. you could feel her anger through the door– but you could feel your own flying through the roof. bitch? you didn’t fucking think so. 
you pushed past lando who was about to open the door and he called your name, attempting to stop you. 
the door flew open. “bitch?”
the blonde girl stood there. she clearly didn’t expect you to open the door. but she didn’t back down; fine. 
“yeah. bitch.” you straighten your posture. “he told me not to worry about you–” what? “and here you are, fucking him.” 
not quite, you wanted to correct her. 
“fuck off,” he said the girl’s name. “me and you aren’t a couple.” but she rolled her eyes anyway. 
“you promised me a good fuck, lando,” she had such a venom to her bite. it had you bristle. “i didn’t think you’d stoop so low.” 
“hey, now, don’t be–” lando started, but you were done. you had enough of this night. you turned back into his apartment and grabbed your handbag, your phone, and threw on your heels. you didn’t hesitate brushing past the pair. 
lando called your name. 
but you only turned your head over your shoulder. your gaze read an entire sentence that he felt up his entire body. 
two can play this game. 
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infictionalwonderland · 8 months ago
Note
I NEED PART TWO OF THE MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N L/N!
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. . . MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N Y/L/N FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT! (part2)
You cackled to yourself after sending the message into your groupchat, quickly returning to the video and beginning to play it again, occasional bursts of giggles slipping through your lips.
Resuming your place in the video—the first clip that began playing was actually from not that long ago at all. It was You, Kat Dennings, Elizabeth Olsen and Zendaya at Taylor Swifts Eras Tour (an experience you would genuinely never forget). Taylor was playing Lover and, in the clip, Kat had your face in one hand and the other wrapped around your waist, bringing you close to her body.
“Lover, can I go where you go—“ Kat sang with Taylor, singing all the lyrics to you and grinning at you, faces inches away from each other. “—Can we always be this close.” She punctuated this lyric with giving you an eskimo kiss.
You smiled sincerely at the memory.
The next clip began up, it was you and Chris Evans doing Playground Insults with BBC Radio 1: the two of you were sat opposite each other, knees touching, Chris was grinning goofily at you, giddy laughs escaping him as you tried to remain straight faced.
“—we’re here with Chris Evans and Y/N Y/L/N.” The presenters introduced.
“And we’re about to play Playground Insults . . Now Chris and Y/N are sat opposite each other,” the camera cut to you and Chris, him smiling largely and you looking away to contain your own, “the atmosphere is very tense.”
“We’ve done this quite a few times now but im thinking.. this is the biggest movie of the year, let’s make this the biggest playground insults we’ve ever done.”
“Yep.” Chris nodded, trying not to laugh.
“Chris, hun. . you’re ugly. Like, plain ugly.” You nodded seriously, immediately setting off as you feigned a pained wince to the words. “Everyone’s been talking about it. . just, you’re so atrocious to look at. Honestly, I almost feel arse over tits in horror when I saw you.”
Chris opened his mouth to say something but then faltered and pouted, “no matter how good of an actor I am, I could never even get those words out my mouth about you and make them sound genuine. Seriously.”
The third clip started—it was Chris Hemsworth on a carpet, a bold colourful question at the bottom said ‘WHO HAS THE MOST FANS?’. Chris immediately said, “Y/n.” In that deep Australian accent of his. “Not that I blame the people from choosing her to be the people’s queen, she is truly one of a kind. You’ll only ever meet one Y/n in your lifetime, cherish it. The fans have the right idea.”
It changed to Scarlett with the same colourful question at screen and at the same carpet event: “Oh, Yeah. Y/n, one hundred percent.” She chuckled huskily. “That woman has fans upon fans and seriously, I’m one of them. She is something else.” She grinned, winking at the camera.
After Scarlett, Paul Rudd came onto your screen in the very same clip. “Oh! The legend herself, Y/N Y/L/N.” Paul answered brightly, smiling. “The amount of fans she has is unbelievable—well, it’s definitely believable for someone like her, so, not really unbelievable..”
The forth clip began—it was you all playing Family Feud with Jimmy Kimmel, on his live show. Sebastian and RDJ were currently facing off; Jimmy posed the question “what, other than the sun, are some of the hottest things to exist?”
Sebastian got to the buzzer faster than Robert managed to and didn’t even falter or hesitate as he answered straight away, “Y/N Y/L/N.”
The audience immediately screamed laughed and shrieked in delight, RDJ just nodded his head in understanding and appreciation, clapping his hands. Chris Evans, Mark and Anthony on the other side all looked amused but ultimately accepting (Chris was nodding along almost subconsciously). You were on the other team, looking heavenward with a faint exasperated grin and Scarlet wrapped her arm around your waist, Chris Hemsworth smirking at you both.
The fifth clip started up: it was a behind the scenes shot from Endgame, the big final battle. You were currently in the middle of doing your own stunt, green screen behind you and harnesses strapped to you as you dangled at a halfway point in the air. Your arms and hands were positioned in such a way to show your character manipulating her powers—the position also very much enhanced your chest, with the added help of your superhero attire. You looked hot, even you could admit.
The camera mirthfully panned to some of the rest of the cast who all stood aside while you filmed your scene—said cast being Chris Evans, Tom Holland, Gwyneth Paltrow, RDJ, Elizabeth Olsen and Tessa Thompson. All of their eyes were fixated on you, Robert was the only one grinning in amusement (and awe) while all the others stared at you as though you hung the sun yourself.
“Boobies.” Lizzie giggled faintly, her eyes stuck. The rest of the cast watching dumbly nodded while the crew cracked up behind the cameras.
And if you screenshotted their dumbfounded faces looking ip at on screen you. . well that was your business.
The clip changed. It was now Karen Gillan being interviewed on some carpet event, looking genuinely breathtaking. The interviewer was asking, “—obviously, your friend and co-star Y/N Y/L/N has been in lots of iconic movies. . what is your favourite scene of hers in The Wolf of Wall Street?”
Karen paused with a cheeky little smile, giving the interviewer a a jokingly incredulous look. “Come on.” She simply said. “It’s a bloody no brainer, I’m certain it was Leonardo’s favourite scene too. . I hope it is anyway otherwise he’s a silly, silly man.”
At the same carpet event with the same interviewer, Chris Hemsworth was being interviewed—his wife, Elsa, on his arm and looking half ready to battle off any rude interviewers (queen).
“—what is your favourite scene of hers in Ocean’s 8?”
“All of them!” Elsa answered eagerly, grinning. “Her outfits really accentuated her personality and I enjoyed them very much so. Particularly her outfit for the gala. . the amount of accentuated personality, by gosh, it had me speechless.”
Chris turned her head, obviously trying not to laugh at his wife.
“Nunca he estado más celoso y agradecido por la ropa en mi vida.” Elsa hummed.
You blinked.
The clip changed to you, Sebastian, Lizzie, Paul, Jeremy and Jimmy all on his Tonight Show playing Musical Beers. The slightly unnerving music/beat played in the background while you all stalked around the circle, Paul and Jeremy already out—leaving you, Seb, Lizzie and Jimmy.
As you were all racing around the circular table, Lizzie very obviously swatted your ass and you were impressed with your own body as you watched that impact: the audience erupted into laughs and shrieks, Jimmy playfully covering his eyes as Seb smirked. You thought that would be the end of the clip, but no.
The very disco-esk tune briefly cut out and past time you thought that meant it stopped completely and you’d already reached for the red cup in front of you and chugged it’s contents, only to pause as the music began back up.
“Spit it back! Spit it back!”
You did just that—but when the music actually stopped and Seb was left standing in front of the cup with your (let’s not go there) in it, your mouth popped open in shock. Jeremy gladly backed away from the table in hysterics, Lizzie and Jimmy equally as amused.
“Oh my god, I am—“
Sebastian quickly downed the cup with. . those contents, not even looking all that perturbed.
“So sorry.” You finished, mouth agape.
You vaguely remembered a conversation you’d had with him after the show, sincerely and repeatedly apologising and he was just very, very amused with you. He didn’t seem to mind at all—what an odd man.
“It’s all good.” Sebastian chuckled lowly, wrapping the mortified looking past you in a one armed shoulder hug and squeezing you to him. Lizzie seemed to be trying to trade a very obvious eye message with you—the audience shrieked and screamed in the background.
Another clip began: its was you and Scarlett Johansson doing a trust fall thing, you thought (correctly).
“Scarlett I swear. .” You giggled, looking over your shoulder at the woman behind you—she grinned back at you amusedly, her eyes twinkling.
“Calm down.” She laughed herself. “I’ll catch you don’t worry, gorgeous.”
Still slightly overcome with nervous giggles, you turned and let out a breath as you shut your eyes before holding at your arms and falling back.
And catch you she definitely did—although her hands didn’t exactly land in a PG-13 area, you cackled as you watched her hands grope at your chest to pull you up. In the video, you were also wheezing as were the crew and Scarlett had a cheeky little smirk as she laughed.
When you were finally standing, she gave one last squeeze before finally letting go—on screen you was breathless with giggles.
“Always wanted to do that.” She shrugged simply with a large amused smile.
The next clip began—it was Zendaya and Tom Holland on LADBible, playing that how much do you agree or not game. The statement said was ‘Y/N Y/L/N is everyone‘s celebrity crush’.
Instantly, Tom and Zendaya moved their cups to strongly agree, both of them nodding in solid agreement with the statement: presently, you awed at your friends, ego very much boosted. Well. To be fair, all of this video was massively boosting your ego.
“I mean, come on.” Zendaya made a ‘duh’ face and shrugged her shoulders.
“It’s Y/N.” Tom smiled crookedly, adding onto her comment.
“I am so happy I get to now say that she’s one of my closest friends.” Zendaya beamed genuinely. “She’s—one of those people whose beauty isn’t just an external thing, she’s so lovely man.” She pouted, in awe of you.
Watching the video, you beamed back at her.
The clip changed: Mark Ruffalo was on the Graham Norton show, next to Nicki Minaj and an actor you couldn’t place.
“Who would you say your favourite co-star has ever been, Mark?” Graham inquired.
“I—i would probably have to go with Y/N—“ The crowd instantly erupted into cheers and yells and Nicki smiled next to him, stating that she loved you under the sound of cheering. Mark grinned back at her, mumbling ‘me too’.
“Yeah, she’s a hell of an actress, that one. So easy to work with. Funny as f—hell, she’s just—an extremely genuine and kind person, and she really brings the energy on set.” Mark grinned. “..she’s also the only free pass my wife has ever given me. Which I won’t be using! Because I don’t believe in cheating, it’s scummy! Even though she’s gorgeous—anyone would be lucky!” He had to rise to a shout at the end as the audience erupted.
Nicki giggled next to him, “me personally, I would use that pass.”
You gasped in laughter as you watched the screen, screen-recording it all so you could go back and watch it. Saving it to your folder titled PISSING MY PANTS HRLP
The clip changed yet again, showing a scene from the Winter Solider BTS. You and Sebastian were filming a scene where he had to shoot your character—you watched the ‘Winter Solider’ shoot your character multiple times making you go down with an agonised yell, crawling away from him.
As soon as CUT was yelled, Sebastian’s face dropped from his stone cold (wintery) expression and he raced to you, crouching next to you. He practically tugged you into his lap on the floor, holding you.
“Oh my fuck that—that just felt so real, Y/n. You know I would never hurt you right?” He asked, blinking repeatedly before a small smirk fell on his lips. “You’re way too pretty to injure doll. Can’t ruin your perfect face.”
On screen you huffed in mock anger, hiding an amused grin as you shoved at him—he still held you close to him though, so both of you fell backwards and burst into giggles.
You literally thought ‘I ship them’ as you watched the clip of Sebastian and yourself, forgetting that was you for a moment.
Another clip started up—another behind the scenes. It was you and Tom Hiddleston in Thor : Ragnarok. In the scene Loki was tied down to the chair and your character was meant to intimidate him—you watched yourself take out your character’s daggers and lean forward into his space. One leg leaned up on top of the arm of the chair, sliding one dagger just a hair above the skin of his neck while using the over the move his chin up to be angled to you as you mockingly smiled down at him.
You said your line as your character but Tom remained silent, mouth parted and eyes widened as he gazed up at you—speech failing him. (You knew that they actually decided to include this awestruck look in the movie—the amount of fucking edits you’d seen was unreal).
Eyebrows crinkling you nudged your knee into his chest and he snapped out of it, grabbing your knee in a gentle grip. “Sorry darling, words sometimes seem to fail me in your presence.” He muttered rather hoarsely, still staring up at you.
“I don’t fucking blame him.” Tessa Thompson murmured from behind you both, and the camera moved to show her staring at you in a similar awe.
Present time, you could barely hide your smirk. Literally the biggest ego boost. Of all time.
Again, the clip changed and it was now Natalie Portman looking gorgeous on a carpet event, being interviewed—“if you could have Jane explore another romance than Thor, who would it be and why?”
“Y/N!” Natalia enthused immediately. “Well—her character, but like. Both. Either. One for me, one for Jane. That—would be great. And why? Come on! She’s an absolutely beautiful woman, inside and out. She has this outward glow that you literally cannot and don’t want to look away from and that reflects so much in her personality—once you’ve interacted with her one time, you never want to stop. Ever. I’m not kidding.” She giggled.
Another clip started up quickly—a blooper of you and Chris Evans. In this scene, your characters were meant to kiss after an angsty, angry argument. You stormed into the frame, into the bedroom, completely in character—an angry expression on and ready to go at Steve.
Before you could even let out a single syllable to begin your lines, Chris immediately surged forward and took your face in his hands, kissing the living daylights out of you.
You both pulled back after a bit and you just started at him, questioningly (that kiss was probably one of your best ever, let it be known, Chris Evans was a fantastic kisser).
“I—I thought It’d be good for the scene. .” Chris trailed off bashfully, scratching the base of his neck, literally pulling the excuse out of his arse. In actuality, he hadn’t wanted to spare a moment of the scene where he could be kissing you, well, not doing so.
“Bull!” Scarlett exclaimed as she materialised in the doorway. “He just wanted to kiss you.” She told you, pointedly looking at the man.
“Yeah—i—“ He huffed a defeated sigh, pink-cheeked. “I’ve got nothing. She’s right.”
In hindsight, you thought to yourself, you should probably stop being so shocked when the fanbase starts shipping you with your costars.
The clip changed: now it was you, Elizabeth and Aaron on a carpet event together—all being interviewed at the same time.
“So, Y/n, how does it feel to be in a Maximoff twin sandwich right now?” The interviewer giggled happily, smiling.
Before you could open you’re mouth—“we’re really enjoying it.” Lizzie and Aaron replied at the same time.
The interview gaped and you simply rolled your eyes as the two smirked at either side of you, they’d been talking in sync ever since you’d first met them at the table reading.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t why?” Aaron grinned crookedly. “A beautiful, lovely woman in between us. Honestly, love, there’s not a thought in my head besides you.” He joked, throwing an arm over your shoulder.
“I completely support that.” Lizzie chirped in, “ever since I’ve met this gorgeous lady who i now acknowledge as my partner in everything—she’s taken up all of the room in my brain, and I couldn’t be happier.” She giggled, putting her arm around your waist.
In the middle of them both, with an arm over your shoulder and one around your waist—you simply sighed, sparing the giddy interviewer an exaggerated suffering expression.
Again, the clip switched—it was now another blooper of you in the Iron Man movie, the scene where you handed Tony’s arse to him in the boxing ring. Instead of acting as scripted, Gwen Paltrow got up from her seat and strode over to the boxing ring, stepping inside gracefully and planting one right on your lips.
Presently, you giggled as you thought back to this moment. Gwen was your impulsive queen. Your idol.
From the floor, RDJ squawked in shock, exclaiming about being cheated and betrayed and Gwen flung her stiletto off her foot at him without moving from your lips.
When she finally did, she simply smiled at you kindly, “you just looked so good that I couldn’t not kiss you, sweets.” She shrugged and you, on screen, laughed at her as you leaned back in to kiss her cheek.
(Unfortunately the scene was not included in the movie—but Gwen never wasted an opportunity to talk about it, and you, if the chance arose).
The clip moved onto another one—back to the Thor : Ragnarok movie, you and Heimdall were fighting together, however you missed a step in your stunt and ended up stumbling. Idris immediately caught you with a steady arm around your waist, full you to him so you could stabilise yourself.
You smiled up at him thankfully, squeezing his arm in gratitude (totally not because you’d just wanted to feel his bicep).
You watched as your on screen self get distracted again and Idris murmured to Tom who’d now appeared next to him, “I feel like it’s dishonourable how much I want her to fall so I can catch her again now.”
“Mate, trust me,” Tom laughed, “I completely understand. But she doesn’t need the rescuing.”
“That she does not.” Both men smiled fondly as they watched you.
Presently, you were actively refusing to blush.
A different clip started up—Florence Pugh was being interviewed, looking breathtaking in her green dress. “—did you take anything from set?” The interviewer was asking, smiling at Florence.
“Um—not much, just Y/n’s heart.” Florence immediately cracked up at her own joke, smiling widely. “And her underwear too.” She added.
The interviewer opened her mouth to say something more, giggling at Florence as she continued speaking: “and before you ask, no. I wouldn’t be selling, for any price. Finders keepers and all that shite—plus, she’s my girl, so. That rule applies even more so. No one else can take her heart. Or her pants.”
Watching your friend, you giggled at her cheesy smile at her words before getting distracted by your group chat, where multiple of your friends and co-starts had seen your message and were now responding. Your laughter increased tenfold as you opened the thread.
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roanofarcc · 5 months ago
Text
LIKE MOTHER LIKE FATHER LIKE DAUGHTER
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pairing. tyler owens x harding!reader - part 2!
summary. you had made a name for yourself in the storm chasing game; it was in your genes, being the daughter of famous chasers jo and bill harding. tyler found your knacked for knowing just what the storm’s thinking a little infuriating and incredibly impressive.
 warnings. fem!reader, reader gets injured, mentions of blood and injuries, probably inaccurate meteorological info & medical info, angst & fluff, some hurt/comfort on this fine Tuesday night.
word count. 3.7k || masterlist
a/n. twister has been my favorite movie FOREVER so here's a little homage to the og storm chasers <3
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You were ten when you went storm chasing for the first time. Growing up, you’d heard your parents' stories every time there was a shift in the weather. Instead of the typical childhood fear of storms, you had always been fascinated by them; your dad, Bill Harding often joked it was in your genes, the lack of fear. With some light convincing of your mom, Dr. Jo Haring, she agreed to take you storm chasing for your tenth birthday. 
The twister had been small, barely an EF1, but it was wondrous. There was something dangerously beautiful about it that drew you in just as it had your parents when they were younger. From that point on, you knew you wanted to be just like them, chasing storms up and down Tornado Alley. 
And with the stubbornness passed down by your mom, that is exactly what you did. You were damn good at it to. 
“It’s lookin’ like a big one to the southeast,” a member of your team said, slugging an arm around your shoulder as she looked up at the sky, squinting slightly at the sun. “But the radar says we’ve got another brewin’ west. She's pickin’ up speed but it’s still developing.” 
You hummed in response, gazing up at the sky too, judging which one was your best bet by observing the clouds in either direction. “Let’s hang back and go for the one to the west, I like her chances better.” Your teammate, Frankie, grinned as she nodded and headed off toward the other three members of your small, but mighty team. 
As you waited for the storm to flesh out a little more, you sat on the bed of your truck, dangling your legs off of the tailgate. The fresh air filled your lungs and the faint smell of incoming rain brought a smile to your lips. Every time you got ready for a chase, you felt ten years old again, giddy and excited for the thrill of the storm. You thought back to the photo albums you’d looked at a hundred times over of your parents and their numerous storm-chasing adventures. They never pushed you into storm chasing, as it was a dangerous line of work, but from a very young age, it was clear that your fascination with storms wouldn’t be quelled with a simple meteorology degree and a job behind a desk. 
Storm chasing was in your blood, and your knack for it was known among other storm chasers. 
“Well, if it isn’t the doctor herself,” a familiar voice filled your ears, belonging to the one and only Tyler Owens. He approached your truck, hands on his hips and a certain cockiness that excited you. You liked a challenge, and you loved showing cowboys up. Tyler was good at what he did, but you were just a little bit better, and it both irritated and impressed him. 
“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” you said, earning a light chuckle from him. 
“You don’t look in a hurry. That storm to the southeast won’t last forever.” You shrugged and he narrowed his gaze just slightly. “You’re not going after that one, are you?” 
“Damn,” you sighed. “You’re getting harder to trick, Owens.”
He laughed, light and sweet. It was easy to see how he garnered such a large online audience. Tyler was easy on the eyes, drove straight into tornados with a grin on his lips, and had the knowledge of storms to back up his insane behavior. You’d never admit it aloud, but he did impress you, even if you thought some of his actions were reckless even for a storm chaser.
The two of you had an interesting rapport. It toes the line between rivals and friends, the odd territory in between. You loved teasing him, and he tried to outsmart you even if it never worked. 
“Maybe you’re getting too predictable,” he said, a teasing tone in his voice. 
“Och.” You faked hurt, placing a hand over your heart. “What is it you always say? If you feel it, chase it. If you think the one to the southeast is gonna show her face, go for it.” 
Tyler studied you for a moment, contemplating what kind of game you were playing with him. All you did was smile at him in return, which led him to roll his eyes. “Unfortunately, you’re rarely wrong,” he sighed. 
“It’s a blessing and curse.” 
“You’re impossible,” he said. “But the west it is. It better not let me down, Dr. Harding.” You only used that title in more professional settings. That had been a condition of your mother. She had gotten her PhD and believed you could too. It was tough, but you earned it; only, you didn’t expect some cowboy to use it to lightly mock you when you proved him wrong.
“You have my word,” you said. 
And you were right. The storm to the west produced a beautiful tornado. You and Frankie got close while the rest of your team hung back. Rain pelted the windshield as you grew closer, watching the dark funnel tear through the expanse of fields, picking up speed on the ground. Somewhere along the way, Tyler’s unmistakable red truck ripped past you, heading into the heart of the twister, which you rolled your eyes at. 
“She’s a beauty!” Frankie hollered, holding her camera at the ready. 
It was a great chase, but the thing about tornados that was both thrilling and dangerous was their unpredictability. You knew the storm would be big, and the closer you grew the more power you saw that it had. The other truck carrying the rest of your team had communicated the growing intensity of the storm via the radio. But it looked to be on a steady path west, so you saw no issue tailing it while Frankie snapped pictures.
The rain only grew heavier and heavier, almost completely obstructing your view. It wasn’t until a tree crash landed directly in the middle of the road did you realize the tornado had changed directions suddenly. A startled scream torn from Frankie lips and you slammed on the breaks, narrowly missing the tree. 
“Holy shit,” she whispered, leaning up against the dash and trying to see through the rain wrap. “It’s right there. It’s right there! We gotta go!” 
You quickly threw your truck in reverse and backed up, but you didn’t get far. A lone semi that had been traveling skidded to a stop just a couple hundred feet behind you. The way they had stopped at the sight of the tornado left its trailer sideways across the road before it was abandoned by the figure hunkering down in the ditch that lined the backroad. 
You hissed under your breath, trapped between two objects and a tornado that shook your truck. There wasn’t enough space to fly around the semi. The ditches on either side of the road were too deep to take quickly and another minute trying to maneuver around the semi would only lead to your truck getting swallowed by the storm, picked up, and tossed around like a rag doll. 
Your parents had prepared you for a kind of situation like that, but that didn’t shake your panic. With a rapidly beating heart, you put the truck in park and yelled at Frankie to get out. You both stepped out into the storm as the tornado loomed closer and closer. Wind whipped all around you along with debris. You grabbed Frankie’s hand and together you sprinted toward the ditch. 
Frankie lay on her stomach, and you lay beside her, covering her head the best that you could. Whatever happened, you had always told yourself your teammates' safety came first. You were the one who talked them into storm chasing with you. So, when danger arose, you felt the responsibility of keeping them safe. 
The screeching of winds was so loud in your ears that it almost disoriented you enough to miss the sharp piece of debris that swooped down at the tornado that passed along the field just opposite of the ditch, not directly over top of you but much too close for comfort. Something smacked against the back of your head, but you closed your eyes and held onto Frankie in hope of shielding her from any other flying objects. 
You weren’t sure how long you two lied there, but it felt like a lifetime until the tornado traveled further away. The winds died down but your heart beat stayed quickly pounding against your chest. 
Sitting up, you felt the sharp sting settling in the back of your head, but you ignored it at the sight of Frankie’s cut leg. 
“Shit,” you muttered, grabbing her knee to examine the clean slice down the back of her shin. 
She wiped back the wet pieces of her hair and let out a shuttered breath. “Holy shit, that was crazy.” You pulled off your sweatshirt and wrapped the wet fabric around her shin. “What’re you doing?” 
“You’re bleeding.” 
“It’s fine,” she said, trying to brush it off, but you heard the pain in her voice, along with the tremble of lingering fear at your close call. You knew the dangers of storm chasing and the possibilities of injuries, but it always felt different to you when it was a member of your team, one of your friends. 
A couple minutes after you tied your sweatshirt around her shin and helped her up from the ditch, the truck carrying the rest of your teammates rolled up, hooting and hollering at the size of the storm until they saw the state the two of you were in. 
“Take her back to the motel. If the bleeding doesn’t stop take her to the hospital.” Frankie opened her mouth to protest, but you cut her off. “I’m serious.” 
“What about you?” another member of your team asked. 
You looked down the road at your overturned truck, sighing sadly to yourself as the pain in the back of your head throbbed. “I’ve gotta call someone for my truck. I’ll meet you back at the motel later.” 
They were hesitant to leave you but eventually agreed. Down the debris-littered road, you hobbled back to your truck. It had been a gift from your parents after you graduated college; it was special to you, but it was totaled thanks to the tornado. 
With a groan, you heaved open the door and tried to gather your belongings, but a wave of dizziness washed over you. You staggered backward, reaching up to touch the tender spot on the back of your head. Something wet coated your fingers and when you pulled your hand back, it was painted red. Frustrated, you tried to take a deep breath and calm yourself down enough to find your cell phone. Unfortunately, the cut was a little worse than you wanted to admit, and you felt blood drip down the back of your neck. 
Dizzily, you sat down on the road, blinking back the pain and wooziness. A slow creep of panic started to take hold as the pain intensified and the world started to spin just slightly. 
With one hand placed firmly on the back of your head, you rubbed your temple with your other, trying to think clearly but it became increasingly more difficult. You missed the hum of an engine nearby, but a slam of a door startled you. 
“Harding!” Someone yelled and you blinked slowly, keeping a hold on the back of your head as you looked up to see Tyler Owens bee-lining right toward you. He kneeled in front of you, brows furrowed and lips pulled in a small frown. “Hey, are you all right?” 
“Yeah,” you said quickly, once again trying to push away the dizziness that plagued you. “I’m, uh, just looking for my phone. I gotta call someone for my truck.” The words felt heavy in your mouth, which couldn’t be a good sign. Whatever struck the back of your head hit it hard and the blood that leaked from the wound wasn’t helping. 
He studied you for a moment, his gaze landing on your hand pressed against the back of your head. “You hurt?” You started to shake your head, but that only caused little black dots to temporarily pepper your vision. Tyler wasn’t an idiot; he reached up and carefully pushed your hand back, stopping when he saw the blood that started to drip down your arm. He cursed under his breath and yelled something at whoever sat in the passenger seat of his truck. 
“Hey.” His voice became soft, comforting even. “We’ve gotta get you to a hospital.” 
“I’m fine,” you inisted, even though every thing you felt inside your body proved that to be untrue. You just hated not being able to do something yourself; you hated needing help. Your father said you interited that from your mother, while she said you got it from your father. Truth was, they both had their air of stubbornness and you was born with double. 
Tyler shook his head. “No, you’re not.” He stood to his feet and gently tugged on your arm in an attempt to help you stand. Begrudgingly, you let him help you. Standing up, the world spun faster and you felt panic swell uncomfortably in your chest. You swayed catching yourself on Tyler’s arms as they grabbed your shoulders. “I’ve got you,” he said. Maybe it was your slightly disoriented state, but his assurance and hands firmly holding onto your arms made some of your panic recoil. As much as you wanted to be okay, you knew that was not the case. 
He knew that too, and helped you into the passenger seat of his truck before he instructed one of his fellow Wranglers to keep pressure on the back of your head with whatever they could find in the backseat. You winced as a crumbled up shirt was held against your head, but the moving truck overwhelmed you with dizziness that made the physical pain of your wound the least of your worries. You didn’t want to pass out but your eyes felt heavy. 
Tyler noticed it too, and placed a hand on your knee, giving it a squeeze and a shake. “You gotta stay with me, okay? You gotta stay awake.” 
“M’trying,” you muttered. 
“You were right about the storm,” he said. “But aren’t you always?” 
A pained smile fell across your lips. “Was that a compliment?” 
He laughed, driving quickly down the road with one hand gripping the wheel tightly. “Yeah. You’re hard to say something bad about. You know your stuff, better than me, that’s for sure.” 
“My parents taught me,” you said, desperately trying to keep yourself consciousness, but it grew more difficult by the minute. 
“Do they still chase?” he asked. 
“Not much anymore. Sometimes if a storm’s close, they’ll take a drive. But they always say they’ve had their fun.” They also said they shared enough close calls to know it was time to hang it up. You know they worried you’d find yourself in one too, but you’d always been careful and rarely got yourself into a situation you couldn’t get out of, until now, that was. 
Darkness encroached on your vision, threatening to force your eyes closed. Some the backseat, you heard one of the Wrangles call Tyler’s name. He turned his head, but you couldn’t see the concerningly red-soaked shirt that made his stomach churn and caused him to press down on the gas harder. Your head lulled to the side and your eyes fluttered close. Vaguely, you heard Tyler call your name and felt him shake your knee, but you couldn’t open your eyes or open your mouth. Everything fell dark. 
-- 
Tyler had spent his fair share of time in hospitals. He’d been bucked off a bull more than once, resulting in his mother dragging him to the hospital and threatening to make him quit. Eventually she held to her threat when he shattered his nose and gained a nasty concussion. 
Being at the hospital for himself was one thing, being there for you made him realize why his mother used to be drenched in worry. He nervously drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair in the hospital room. You were asleep, a fresh bandage wrapped around your head and with a minor concussion. The cut on the back of your head required a couple stitches; you were lucky, all things considered, but Tyler really hated seeing you like that. 
To him, you’d always been unreal. A second generation storm chaser so accomplished. Not only did you know your stuff, it was clear how much you enjoyed it. You lit up at the sight of storms, and Tyler couldn’t help but be in awe. There was a competitive nature to storm chasing and as much as he wanted to be annoyed by you always being two steps ahead of him, he couldn’t. He was just impressed. 
Tyler wasn’t sure how or when that admiration turned into something that teetered on affection, but it felt more than it had been before seated at your hospital bedside. He’d never felt his stomach drop like that before, when you passed out in his truck, Boone holding a bloodied shirt to you head. Even after the doctor said you’d be just fine, he felt on edge. 
The door to your room was pushed open by a nurse who led in two more people, who he instantly recognized: The Hardings. 
He stood up quickly and watched as your mom rushed to your side, brushing a hand across your cheek with a deep frown. “Oh, baby girl,” she sighed.  
The nurse offered your concerned parents a polite smile. “As the doctor said, the concussion was minor so all she need is some rest for the couple of days to a week. She should wake up soon and we'll see how she’s doing, then the doctor will let you know when she can be discharged.” 
You dad rubbed your mom’s back like he was trying to ease the heavy worry that shined in her face, but he too looked just as worried with a crease across his forehead. 
Tyler lightly cleared his throat, gaining your parents’ attention. "Hello, ma'am, sir," he greeted them.
“You must be the one who brought her in,” Jo said, and Tyler nodded in response. “Thank you. We’d been trying to call her, after we saw that storm, but she never answered and I…I just had a bad feeling.” 
Bill rubbed the light stubble on his chin. “No wonder she’s knocked out; I don’t think you’d get here otherwise. Stubborn, that kid.” 
A found smile spread across Tyler’s lips. “She kept saying she was fine until she nearly passed out on me. We only got a couple miles before she did pass out; scared the life out of me,” he said, running a stressed hand through his hair freed from his hat. The second you passed out in his truck, he nearly broke every traffic law. He wasn’t sure he’d never been quiet that scared, which was something he wasn't sure how to feel about.
Your mom furrowed her brows at Tyler’s words, something glinting behind her eyes until it shined in recognition. “You’re that storm chaser she’s always talkin’ about,” Jo said. “The one online.” 
“Oh, yeah,” Bill said, nodding in Tyler’s direction. He couldn’t tell if it was disdain or indifference in the man’s voice, but Tyler was too hung up on the fact that you talked about him to care much. He didn’t know that filled him with an odd sense of pride and warmth. You two weren’t exactly friends but you were more than acquaintances. It was more like a nice, workplace rivalry that he enjoyed a lot more than he’d admit. 
A small groan sounded from the bed, and everyone turned as your eyes fluttered open. Your mom was quick to your side, speaking quietly under the hum of fluorescent lights. 
You started to mumble something about your truck that Tyler couldn’t quite make out, but your dad seemed to understand immediately. He said he’d take care of it, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he headed out into the hall with his cell phone in hand. 
Tyler felt like he overstayed his welcome; you were in better hands with your parents there. He collected his things from the chair, garnering your attention. 
“Tyler,” you said, pushing yourself to sit upright. “Thank you.” 
He smiled. “No problem, doctor. I couldn’t let one of the best chasers be out of the game, now could I?” 
“So you admit it? I’ve got you beat.” 
“I said one of,” he joked. “But you may have one or two legs up on me. Not for long though. I’ll catch up.” 
Something in your smile made him want to sigh in relief, but he held it back. “Not a chance.” 
“Then you better rest up; I’ll see you back out there.” 
Bonus!
It took a little longer for you to bounce back, but the second you felt like yourself again, you were right back at it. Morning was supposed to bright a slew of storms to Kansas, so you and your team hightailed it to the state, finding a cozy little motel already occupied by other storm chasers. You spotted Tyler’s truck instantly, followed by a strange turn of your stomach. 
You hadn’t seen him since you woke up in the hospital, slightly surprised that he stayed with you until your parents arrived. Since then, your mom had managed to bring him up at every opportunity, not so subtly hint at what a pair the two of you would be. You brushed her off, but a small part of you wondered what would happen if you hung around the cowboy a little more. 
“Look who’s back!” Tyler’s voice sounded the second you hopped out of Frankie’s beat-up but sturdy truck; you were saving up for a new one, something even nicer that you could doctor up for chasing. 
He approached you with a beaming smile, flashing his teeth. “I just couldn’t stay away,” you replied. “I didn’t miss anything too crazy, did I?” 
Tyler shook his head. “It seemed like mother nature saved the good ones for you. They’re talkin’ some big ones tomorrow.” The giddy feeling that accompanied storm filled your chest, and the company of Tyler heightened it, strange and new but not completely unwelcome. Maybe it was time you gave into his charm a little more.
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theonottsbxtch · 2 months ago
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MISS YOU BABY | MV1
an: i need a hug from max verstappen stat, based off this request! thank you for sending it :)
summary: max thought his girlfriend was missing his final race during his triple header, little did he know she'd planned to come and visit all along.
wc 3.6k
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The hotel room she was in was quiet.
She sat cross-legged on the bed in a dark hotel room that mirrored his, only three floors below, making sure he couldn’t see her surroundings. Her phone was propped up against a pillow, and Max’s face filled the screen, his hair still damp from the shower, tousled and messy. He looked worn-out but managed a small, tired smile just for her.
"I’m sorry, Max. I really tried to get time off, but there was just… no way," she said, the fib slipping from her lips with surprising ease. "I wanted to be there with you. Especially now."
Max exhaled, leaning back against his headboard. “I know. It’s alright.” His voice softened. “I just miss you, is all. It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”
She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek, wishing she could reach through the screen and wrap her arms around him. "You’ll get through it, though. You always do."
"Doesn’t feel that way." He laughed, but it was brittle around the edges. “I feel like I’m letting everyone down. The team, the fans… you.” His eyes searched the screen, as if he might find a solution hidden somewhere in her gaze.
"Never me." She leaned closer, her face so near to the camera that she could see her reflection in his eyes. "I’m so proud of you, Max. Always. No matter what."
For a moment, he just looked at her, his expression softening, and the tension she’d seen in his face for days seemed to melt, just a little. "I wish you were here," he murmured. "I swear, you’re the only thing that keeps me sane sometimes."
She swallowed, feeling her heart pull toward him with a force that was hard to resist. "Soon, I’ll be back with you. Just… hold on a bit longer, okay?”
She gazed at his face on the screen, her heart swelling as she watched the way his eyes softened every time he looked at her. She knew he was tired and worn down, but in this moment, he looked at peace.
"I love you, Max," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.
He closed his eyes, letting the words wash over him, and when he opened them again, there was a warmth there that seemed to cut through the miles between them. "I love you, too," he replied, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "More than you know."
She tucked her hair behind her ear, feeling her cheeks flush, and nodded. "Get some sleep, alright? Big day tomorrow."
He grinned. "Yeah, yeah. You, too. Dream about me, okay?"
She laughed, rolling her eyes, but her heart skipped all the same. "Always. Goodnight, Max."
"Goodnight, love."
With a final smile, she ended the call, letting the screen go dark as she leaned back into the pillows, her heart fluttering with anticipation. She’d hardly been able to sleep on the plane ride here, and she could already tell tonight would be the same.
Still, the thought of finally seeing him in person tomorrow kept her too giddy to care. She’d surprise him at the track, slipping through the garage just as he arrived, or maybe even at breakfast if she could manage it without spoiling the surprise. Her mind spun with ideas, each more elaborate than the last, but all she really wanted was to see his face light up when he realised she was there.
Pulling the covers up to her chin, she let her eyes drift closed, replaying the moment over and over in her mind, savouring the thought of his reaction. She loved him fiercely, and she knew that being here—no matter how much of a secret she’d had to make it—was exactly where she was supposed to be.
As she finally began to drift off, her last thought was simple but bright, shining like a promise: Tomorrow, he’ll know.
And while she was glad she held onto the secret.
The following morning she wished she’d told him earlier.
She woke to the faint glow of her phone on the nightstand, her morning alarm. Blinking herself awake, she squinted at the screen and saw Max’s name, followed by the time—5:02 a.m.
Heading to the track early today. Miss you already, wish you were here.
She smiled, feeling that familiar warmth spreading through her chest. But then her heart sank a little. She’d been hoping to catch him in the hotel this morning, maybe surprise him over breakfast. Now, with him already gone, she'd have to adjust her plans.
Throwing back the covers, she got up and went to the window. Rain streaked down the glass in thick, heavy drops, and the sky was a murky grey. The weather was only supposed to get worse throughout the day; she knew that’d make things complicated, especially for an outdoor track. She had no clue if her surprise would even be worth the stress of navigating the drenched, crowded paddock.
After a moment’s hesitation, she tapped her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she reached the name she wanted. She dialled, and after a few rings, Max’s assistant, Sophie, picked up.
“Hey!” Sophie greeted, sounding pleasantly surprised. “What’s up? Did you make it in?”
“Yes, I’m here!” she whispered, unable to contain her excitement. “I wanted to surprise him before he heads out on track, but with this rain… do you think I should even bother?”
Sophie sighed sympathetically. “Honestly, it’s a mess out here. They’re saying the rain’s going to be even heavier by the time qualifying starts. He’ll be in back-to-back meetings until then, and I’d hate for you to sit in the rain, just to get a few minutes with him.”
She nodded, glancing out the window at the sheets of rain. “So you think I should wait?”
“I’d say hold off until right before the race,” Sophie replied. “He’ll have a short break, and I think he’d love the surprise then. Plus, everyone’s less frantic between qualifying and race prep.”
“Good point,” she agreed, a little disappointed but knowing Sophie was right. The track on a rainy race day was chaos, and if she could avoid it until the right moment, she’d have a better chance of actually spending time with him. “Thanks, Sophie. Let me know if anything changes?”
“Will do! He’ll be so happy to see you,” Sophie said warmly. “Hang tight, okay?”
As she hung up, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement, knowing the surprise would be even more perfect with the wait. So she ordered herself a coffee, sat by the window, and watched the rain pour down, imagining the look on Max’s face when he’d finally see her just before the most important race of the weekend.
The rain hadn’t let up by the time she arrived at the track, the skies dark and moody, the air thick with humidity. She’d navigated her way through security and weaving lines of drenched fans, her heart racing as she got closer to Max’s garage. But by the time she finally made it, he was already in the car, helmet on, visor down, his focus entirely on the track ahead.
Her heart sank a little as she scanned the bustling garage, hoping for some last chance to catch his eye. But he was already strapped in, a crew member leaning in to give him a final check before he rolled out. She spotted Sophie in the corner, scribbling something down on a clipboard, and made her way over to her.
“Hey,” she whispered, feeling the dampness of the rain still clinging to her hair and clothes. “I… I just missed him, didn’t I?”
Sophie looked up and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, he was swamped the moment he got here. They barely had time to get him settled with all the delays.” She gestured to the grid display above them, where Max’s name glowed beside the stark “P17” position. “Rough start, but he’ll be glad to know you’re here.”
She nodded, feeling a pang as she glanced at his car just as it rumbled to life. His fingers flexed on the steering wheel, even from a distance she could see the tension there. She let out a breath, feeling a swell of pride and worry all at once. “Well, I’ll be here watching, then.”
Sophie handed her a headset, which she slipped on just in time to hear his engineer’s voice crackle through with the first instructions as they prepared for the start. The rain was relentless, turning the track into a slick, treacherous maze, and she felt her stomach twist as the cars peeled out onto the track for the formation lap. Max’s car trailed near the back, but she knew he’d fight, as he always did, with a ferocity she both admired and feared in moments like this.
The race began, a chaotic blur of spray and metal, the cars kicking up rooster tails of water, visibility nearly zero as they fought for position. She gripped the edge of her seat as the laps ticked by, heart pounding with every close call. It quickly became clear that the conditions were only worsening, drivers struggling to keep their cars on track, a few even skidding off into barriers with loud, bone-jarring crashes. Her hands tightened around the headset as Max navigate his way forward, battling his way to P10, then P6.
And then, just when the tension seemed to reach its peak, there was a deafening crash, followed by a sudden hush as the red flag went up, halting the race.
Her breath caught in her throat. The screen above replayed the incident—a skidding into the barrier that had caused an emergency stop. The seconds felt like hours as she waited, desperately searching for a glimpse of his car on the feed. Finally, there it was, intact, safe. Relief flooded her, and she felt her shoulders sag.
The race restarted after the delay, and she watched in awe as Max took advantage of the reshuffled positions and tire changes, surging forward with a newfound intensity. Lap by lap, he clawed his way through the field, passing car after car with a precision that made her heart race. It was as if he’d transformed, harnessing every ounce of his frustration from the last few races, channelling it into something extraordinary.
The garage erupted in cheers as he moved into P3, then P1. She stared at the screen, hardly daring to blink, her heart racing as he crossed the finish line in first place, drenched in rain and glory.
She could hardly believe it. From P17 to P1. He’d done it.
Forgetting herself, she laughed, a sound of pure joy, her heart swelling as she watched him slow down, the victory finally sinking in. She couldn't wait to see his face when he finally realised she was here, to be the first person he’d see when he stepped out of that car, soaked and grinning, finally at the top.
Ripping her headset off, she followed the crew as they ran out to parc fermé, her heart racing as fast as the roar of the crowd. The team, buzzing with excitement, parted slightly as she joined them, nudging her to the front so she’d be the first face he saw. She could barely breathe as she caught sight of Max’s car, now still, the rain glistening on its blue-and-red bodywork.
With all the force he had he climbed out, pulling off his helmet to reveal damp, messy hair and a face lit up with exhilaration and disbelief. For a moment, he simply stood there, taking in the shouts of the crowd and the blinding flashes of cameras. And then, his gaze landed on her.
His eyes widened, his exhaustion and surprise giving way to pure joy. Without hesitation, he broke into a run, crossing the slick tarmac with the kind of speed and determination that made her heart leap. She barely had a second to react before he wrapped her in his arms, his lips crashing against hers as he pulled her close, his hands pressed firmly against her back, as if he still couldn’t believe she was real.
“You came,” he murmured breathlessly, pulling back just enough to look at her, his face filled with awe and happiness.
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” she replied, her voice trembling with emotion, brushing a wet strand of hair from his face.
He smiled, a bright, unguarded smile that melted her heart. “God, I needed this. I needed you.”
And then he kissed her again, a kiss filled with all the missed moments and the words they hadn’t been able to say, the thrill of his victory mingling with the fierce love they shared. She felt the rain soak through her clothes, the crowd and the noise around them fading as they held each other, his arms wrapping around her as if he could protect her from the rest of the world.
“I still can’t believe it,” he whispered against her lips, his forehead resting against hers, his hand gently brushing her cheek. “P1. And you’re here.”
She laughed softly, her eyes shining. “You deserve it, Max. I knew you could do it.”
He held her close, a triumphant laugh bubbling from his chest as he buried his face in her neck, and they stood there in the pouring rain, lost in each other, savouring the victory and this long-awaited moment they both knew they’d never forget.
As the noise of the cheering crew and fans started to swell around them, Max pulled back slightly, brushing his thumb across her cheek, his gaze lingering on her face as if he was trying to commit every detail to memory.
“I have to go,” he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. “The interviews, cool-down room, podium… but wait for me? I’ll meet you in my driver’s room as soon as I can.”
She nodded, understanding but already missing the warmth of his arms. “I’ll be waiting. Go,” she whispered, giving him a small smile. “Enjoy every second—you deserve it.”
He pressed one last, lingering kiss to her forehead, then turned and jogged off to join the waiting crew, helmet in hand, while she stayed rooted to her spot, watching him disappear into the crowd. Her heart swelled with pride as she trailed after the team to watch his interviews, his beaming, breathless face glowing with pride and energy as he spoke about the gruelling conditions and the unbelievable climb from P17 to P1.
Then came the cool-down room, where she watched from the sidelines as he bantered with the other drivers, sharing exhausted smiles and congratulatory claps on the back, the weight of his achievement settling in as he finally let himself relax a little. She couldn’t help but smile, feeling as though she could burst with joy just watching him, his eyes sparking with energy even as he looked ready to collapse from exhaustion.
And finally, the podium. She felt the crowd’s excitement echo through her as she looked up to see him standing tall, drenched from head to toe, a bottle of champagne in hand. When he raised it in victory, the crowd erupted, and she joined them, cheering at the top of her lungs as he sprayed champagne with abandon, laughing as he celebrated with the other drivers. His eyes swept over the crowd, and when they found hers, he gave a subtle nod, a silent promise that he’d be back with her soon.
After the podium, she made her way to his driver’s room, her heart fluttering as she paced the small space, the thrill of the day lingering in every fibre of her being. And then, finally, the door swung open, and there he was.
He looked completely worn out, his hair still damp and messy, his fireproof undersuit clinging to his skin. But his smile was bright, and his eyes lit up the moment he saw her.
Without a word, he crossed the room, pulling her into his arms, his lips finding hers in a soft, exhausted kiss. She melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as he held her close, the adrenaline and joy from his victory radiating between them.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy,” he whispered against her ear, his voice low and hoarse. “Winning today… and having you here with me. It’s everything.”
She brushed a strand of damp hair from his face, smiling as she traced her fingers along his cheek. “You did it, Max. I’m so proud of you.”
He took her hand, pressing it to his heart, his eyes never leaving hers. “None of it would mean anything without you,” he said quietly, his voice steady.
She felt her eyes sting with tears, overwhelmed by the depth of his words. “I’m here,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll always be here.”
They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world slipping away. He stroked her hair, pressing gentle kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, as if savouring each moment.
“Let’s get out of here,” he finally murmured, his voice warm and soft, “celebrate somewhere a little less chaotic.”
She laughed, nodding. “Anywhere, as long as it’s with you.”
They headed back to his hotel, hand in hand, a peaceful quiet settling over them as they left the track behind. Once in the privacy of his suite, he gave her a lingering kiss, then smiled, nodding toward the bathroom. “Give me a few minutes to wash off all the champagne and… probably half the track dust,” he said with a laugh.
She grinned, watching as he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the suite a moment later. While he showered, she took the opportunity to pack up her things from her own room, gathering her scattered belongings quickly. The thrill of being close, of finally sharing a space for the night, filled her with a warmth that had nothing to do with the tropical heat outside.
By the time she returned, he was out of the shower, towelling off his damp hair, his expression softening as he took in the sight of her standing there with her things. Without a word, he crossed the room and took her bags from her hands, setting them by the closet as he gave her a smile that made her heart skip.
Once they’d both changed into fresh clothes—she’d opted for a simple dress, and he in casual jeans and a loose shirt—they slipped out of the hotel through a side exit, making their way to a tiny, tucked-away Brazilian restaurant that had been recommended. The place was hidden, small enough to be missed by the crowds, with soft, low lighting that created an intimate, cosy atmosphere. A few locals lingered around tables, but they paid little attention to the couple as they took a corner table in the back.
They ordered caipirinhas and he reached across the table to hold her hand, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her skin as they laughed over silly little things, shared stories from the past few weeks, and spoke of things beyond racing, beyond work, just slipping back into the easy flow they always shared. The food was rich and delicious—small plates of feijoada, grilled meats, and pão de queijo—everything flavorful and homey.
He leaned across the table, his eyes warm and filled with that familiar spark, as he watched her speak, clearly savouring every moment. “You know,” he said softly, “I think this is the best victory celebration I’ve ever had.”
She squeezed his hand, smiling back at him. “Same here. I missed just… being with you like this.”
They stayed until the restaurant closed, lingering over the last bites of dessert, letting the night stretch out as long as possible. Eventually, they headed back to the hotel, the city streets now quiet and still beneath the soft hum of streetlights.
Once back in his room, Max changed into a pair of soft pyjama bottoms, leaving his chest bare, his skin still warm from the shower. She slipped into one of his t-shirts, the fabric soft and oversized, the scent of him comforting and familiar. When she stepped out the bathroom, he was already waiting for her by the bed, his gaze softening as he took her in, a gentle smile curving on his lips.
Without a word, he reached for her, lacing his fingers through hers as he pulled her close, guiding her to the bed. She sank into the mattress beside him, and he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her against his chest, his fingertips trailing absently over her shoulder. She nestled into him, feeling his warmth seep through her, a cosy silence wrapping around them.
They lay there, tangled together, her head tucked beneath his chin as he gently traced circles on her back, his breath even and steady. He tilted her chin up, his eyes searching hers for a quiet moment before he leaned down, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, filled with a tenderness that said everything words couldn’t. She kissed him back just as gently, savouring the intimacy of being close like this, the world beyond these walls feeling miles away.
When the kiss ended, he pressed his forehead to hers, a soft sigh escaping as he held her close, one hand settling over hers, fingers intertwined. They stayed that way, her head resting against his heartbeat, lulled by the steady rhythm.
Finally, they drifted off, still tangled in each other’s arms, wrapped up in the warmth and comfort of just being together. As the night settled around them, Max couldn’t help but smile, holding her a little closer as he slipped into sleep, his heart full and light.
Max couldn’t have wished for a better weekend.
the end.
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backinmyphase · 1 month ago
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Romeo and...
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Theater Kid!Satoru who has a big crush on the pretty girl in the drama club. You, even though the both of you didn't even have a conversation over 5 words. But he still feels so giddy when he looks at you, it has to be destiny!
Well, he always had a tendency to the dramatics.
Theater Kid!Satoru who immediately signs up for the audition of Romeo when he overhears you practicing the lines for Juliet in the drama lessons. And because he is Satoru, of course the teacher is immediately giving him the role, since Satoru was always one of the best actors (and one of the most committed).
So in the audition for Juliet, the students have to act with him as Romeo.
Theater Kid!Satoru who is excited to act like he is in love with you and having more word exchange. But when you audition you have a hard time even just looking in his eyes. You stutter, which he finds adorable, and often start over.
He is smiling at you while whispering that everything is okay and you can do it, but you are only stuttering more after that.
Theater Kid!Satoru who is greatly disappointed when the teacher stops your audition and says something along the lines that you're normally not a case of stage fright, but if you have trouble with it you shouldn't be Juliet. Satoru wants to give her a piece of his mind, since he found your audition perfect!
But you just laugh nervously and leave him alone on the stage with the next auditions.
Theater Kid!Satoru who regrets getting the role of Romeo when he sees you as just an extra in the background while he has to act like he is interested into the new Juliet (he doesn't remember the name of the girl playing). Normally he didn't care and would be ecstatic about playing the lead.
But he would like it more if he could be an extra with you and he didn't believe he would ever want to be an extra.
Theater Kid!Satoru who just can't concentrate while you are in the background of the scene. His gaze wanders of and stays on you longer than on Juliet. He is missing his cues to deliver his lines and just overalls has trouble while practicing.
The teacher is mostly nice about it since he still had time to practice more, but he notices that she is also getting impatient with him.
And while the final practice his gaze still found its way over to you and...
"Satoru focus! Stop staring at Y/n, this isn't Romeo and Extra #3!"
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Part 2
WIP Announcement
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ddejavvu · 1 month ago
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so i absolutely love the best friend james potter fic where he warms his hands between the reader’s thighs and the idea of him having really bad circulation just makes sense to me, so can we get a technically kinda part two but instead of between the readers thighs it’s that portion of underboob that just heats up so much for no reason whatsoever? 🙇🙇🙇
Sirius's canine form requires him to get at least twelve hours of outdoor time per week, but during the winter months it becomes a chore delegated to the least lucky of the group: take Padfoot for a walk.
"Please, Jamie?" You'd leveled James with puppy eyes that rivalled Sirius himself, and now two sets of footprints lay in the snow beside pawprints that wind around them in happy trails.
"It's bloody cold out here." James comments, like your own nose isn't burning from the temperature, "Sirius, can't you piss on trees faster?"
Padfoot, who greatly resents the tree-pissing stereotype, takes a snapping lunge at James's ankles that sends him careening into you from your left.
"James!" You shriek as your feet and his knock clumsily together, all four united in trying to stabilize you. His arm wraps around your waist and he finds his footing first, which means that you're supported by his grip as you find your own. You find yourself inches away from his face, his nose stained red akin to his cheeks as you both laugh at how you've ended up pinned to a tree in the forest. Sirius barks at you, sounding suspiciously giddy, and James drags his hands off of your back, trailing them over your stomach as he goes.
"Gonna put a muzzle on you for that one, mutt." James threatens Sirius, who dashes off to find a stick or lick a toad or whatever else his dog brain fancies at the moment. You're left trailing beside James once again, wishing that you had your own stick to drag through the snow.
"You were really warm," James reminisces, his hands surely going numb, "Like- your stomach?"
"It's my boobs," You snicker, "No matter how cold a girl gets, the space beneath her tits will always be warm."
"Really?" James peers curiously at you, "That's cool. It's like a life hack."
"Right. It's-" You stick a hand guilelessly beneath your shirt, nestling it beneath the curve of your bra, "It's not, like, sweaty or anything. Just warm."
"Fascinating." James pushes his glasses up his nose with a single outstretched finger, "Wish I had some of those."
"You can borrow mine," You concede, taking James's hand in your own and sliding it up your stomach until his hand is leeching off of the same warmth you'd felt only seconds prior, "Feel it?"
His jaw drops, one of his unruly curls bouncing stubbornly in front of his face.
"Darling, you weren't kidding! It's like an oven in here." He hums, his other hand greedily reaching for the excess space beneath your chest, "Oh my god, if I had this I'd never stop touching it."
When Padfoot returns it's to James pressing you against another tree, hands pressed firmly to the space beneath your tits. He charges for James determinedly, latching his teeth around the man's elbow and pulling with all of his might to separate his friend from you.
"Pads- ouch! She's- relax, Fido, she's let me. I'm warming my hands, thank you very much."
James manages to pry Padfoot's maw off of him, hissing at the skin surely bruised beneath his thick wool coat.
"It's alright, Sirius." You rub sweetly between the dog's ears, "His hands were cold, that's all. Don't want to bring him back to the castle with less than ten fingers."
Sirius's resulting growl towards James sounds suspiciously like he's going to lose fingers anyways, whether it be from frostbite or a dog's bite.
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