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formula-ghost · 28 days ago

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Read Your Diary (FC43 x fem!reader)

Chapter 3: Gossip

CHAPTER SUMMARY: You’ve always felt like you belonged right at Franco’s side, but as he begins to grow in popularity, you begin to wonder if his world has any place for you.

WORD COUNT: 7.7k

WARNINGS: Hurt/comfort. Use of YN, mentions of anxiety disorders/therapy, reader has major self esteem issues and panic attacks. Appearance of Christian Horner (that man needs his own CW). There is a “manager” character that is not a reference to any of Franco’s IRL managers!

TAGLIST: @scopeiguess @storyteller-le @htpssgavi @wierdflowerpower @justsisse @xivilivix

A/N: I can’t thank you all enough for all the love you’ve shown on this fic 💙 It’s been incredible. I do want to sincerely apologize for leaving you with all this cliffhanger before I have to take a small hiatus with the holidays haha. I played around a bit with perspective in this chapter, so I hope it still reads clearly! Also, if you want to be added to the tag list, make sure your blog isn’t set to hidden and that you allow tags or else I’ll be unable to do that on my end. As always I hope you enjoy it :)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Sip the gossip, drink ‘til you choke

Sip the gossip, burn down your throat

You’re not iconic, you are just like them all

Don’t act like you don’t know

Austin had been beautiful, and you had written down every word you could describing it. Mexico, however, was a race you wouldn’t exactly want to document.

It started out okay. Franco’s Forbes cover shoot was released, and, as predicted, it blew up the internet. Of course, you were happy for him. But to see the entire world want him almost as much as you wanted him was…disheartening.

For a long time, it had just been you and Franco. He had clawed his way up and earned everything he had achieved through hard work and unmatchable determination. You were his biggest fan and supporter. And it was just you and him against the odds.

You had been so happy for him to make it to F1 after all he’d worked for. And to see the world embrace him so wholeheartedly was beautiful. But you were scared, deep down, that you’d lose him in the glitz and glamor of pilot stardom.

His place at Williams was only temporary, of course, but you knew that when he did eventually get a secure seat, your friendship would have to change. After all, you couldn’t fly around the world with him forever. But you figured you’d adapt, like you always did. It would all be okay in the end. Franco never gave you any reason to believe that you’d get left behind.

That is, until Mexico.

You barely saw him at the beginning of the week, with him being so busy filming for brand sponsorships. Come the weekend, a phone call from home had soured his mood. You let it be, knowing that now was the time to just support him in any way you could, even if that was just giving him space.

But on Saturday he had woken up feeling better, and you were happy, thinking that he’d turn this weekend around for the better. Mexico was full of Argentine fans, and again, you were both ecstatic for him and feeling a bit left behind. You weren’t from Argentina. You didn’t really speak Spanish. These random fans had that connection with him that you’d never have.

You pushed it down—for now. You’d write about it later.

But now you were on your way to Williams hospitality to meet Franco. He was beaming when you’d seen him at breakfast that morning. Some big Argentine musicians were coming to the paddock.

You would have been happier for him if he had introduced you to them. But now you sat in hospitality with Franco and the group, and they all completely ignored you. Franco hadn’t even introduced you.

Yes, you were naturally on the quieter side. Yes, you didn’t speak Spanish, which they now all excitedly talked in, laughing about something you’d never know. But did that really mean that you deserved to sit there, awkwardly glancing at your phone as your best friend ignored you?

And all the while, he was glancing over to the female singer sat opposite him. God, she was beautiful. And from Franco’s tone, you could tell he thought so too. He was flirting with her right in front of you.

Yes, you were just friends. But you had slept in his bed with him curled up into your side. He had celebrated every win with you since you were teenagers. But right now, you were nothing.

You just kind of stared off into the distance until you saw a familiar face. Lily to the rescue! She came over and waved to Franco and the group, who stopped their conversation for a brief second to wave back.

“Hey YN, wanna come help us film a video?” she asked. Clearly this was just an out to help you escape the torture of being ignored.

“Sure,” you agreed. When you got up to leave, Franco didn’t even acknowledge you.

You and Lily walked into the garage. “Thank you for helping me out there.”

“Yeah, you looked like you were going through it. Were they that bad?”

“Well, I don’t know. Franco never even introduced me and I don’t speak Spanish.”

“So he just ignored you? That’s so rude,” he said, her face grimacing, “I’m sorry.”

You just shrugged and offered her a weak smile. There was that unspoken recognition from both of you; Franco had ignored you to flirt with the singer. She was everything you weren’t: beautiful, popular, confident.

“Well, come hang with me and Alex. I’ll teach you how to make a tiktok,” she said.

You were surprised that her excuse hadn’t been an excuse at all—she actually wanted your company, unlike someone else.

You went out to the pit lane to meet Alex. Fans were cheering from the sidelines. They were all screaming for Alex, of course, but a few yelled for Lily too. And one yelled for you.

“YN! YN!” the girl yelled, Argentine flag in her grasp. Your head turned. “YN! Can I get a picture with you?” she asked.

You paused. “You want a picture with me?”

She smiled. “Yes, if that’s okay.” You laughed, not mocking her, but just unsure to do with the absurdity of it all.

“Of course,” you said, smiling for the camera. “I wasn’t trying to be rude,” you explained, “I’m just surprised you knew me.”

“Oh, we all know you. Everyone’s seen the videos of you and Franco. You all are so cute!” You knew what she meant—your friendship with him was endearing, you had to admit. But the reminder of him felt like a sharp dagger to the heart. Lily called you over, so you bid goodbye to the fan, an odd feeling settling in your chest. That could be unpacked later.

But later was sooner than you anticipated. You had a great time making videos with Lily and Alex, but they had gone to get lunch before qualifying, and you couldn’t find Franco anywhere. So you went to his driver’s room, and finding that even empty, you just gave up and stayed there. He had told you that his room was fair game to hide in if you ever felt overwhelmed, and you definitely did. Now that you were alone, all the emotions were rushing to the surface.

So you opened your notebook to write.

I can’t believe Franco didn’t even introduce me to anyone this morning. I get it, I’m not like them. I’m not talented or famous or as beautiful as that girl is. God, she’s perfect. She’s everything a man could want. Why would Franco ever want someone like me? I’m just an anxious, dependent mess. I don’t blame him for flirting with her. I just wish he wouldn’t do it in front of me.

You were spiraling, and soon enough tears came to your eyes. You tried to blink them away but it was futile. You felt like you were losing your best friend.

But, speak of the devil, he was at the door.

“Oh, YN, I was looking for you,” he said absentmindedly as he walked in the room and fiddled with his helmet. “You left your phone in the garage, Lily has it.”

“Oh, shit,” you muttered. It seemed like you were developing a habit of losing things. You got up to meet Lily in the garage, making a mental note to stop at the bathroom to take a breather. You prayed that Franco wouldn't look at you, but today was your unlucky day, it seemed. As you walked out, he looked up and his eyes met yours, and you saw the concern dawn in his eyes. He moved to say something, but you just quickened your pace, and ignored him when you did hear him call after you.

You found the nearest bathroom and broke down, allowing yourself to just cry it out for a few minutes. Your thoughts kept spiraling. You were ridiculous, you thought, breaking down over something so small. You were pathetic. No wonder he didn’t want you. Why would anyone?

After a few minutes, you took a few deep breaths and steadied yourself and tried to make it look as if you hadn’t been crying. Qualifying would be starting soon. You quickly grabbed your phone from Lily, who thankfully didn’t say anything about your clearly post-sobbing session face, and you found a comfortable spot in the back of the garage to watch qualifying.

He qualified 15th. Not great. Nothing to elicit a celebratory hug, though, God, you needed one right now.

You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go back to the hotel and sleep away the weariness. So that’s what you did, skillfully avoiding Franco’s eye scanning the paddock for you.

When you got back to the hotel, you could barely change into your pajamas and get in the bed. You felt heavy like a block of lead. You checked your phone before bed, seeing that Franco had taken a photo with the musicians and posted it to Instagram.

It was taken after you left, of course. As if you were never there at all.

The sight brought another wave of tears. You sighed in frustration and cried until the weight of it all lulled you to sleep.

The next morning, you didn’t even want to go to the grand prix. As you got up and tidied where you had gotten back and just thrown things around last night, you contemplated what to do.

On one hand, you wanted to support Franco even if you were upset. On the other hand, you thought you might burst into tears if you saw him again.

You just needed to write it out, and then you’d be able to face him. You grabbed your bag and fished around for your journal.

It was gone.

Shit.

Then you remembered, you had left it in his driver’s room yesterday. You groaned.

You checked your phone, intending to text him about it, only to find that he had already texted you last night while you were asleep. Just a simple, You okay? but you hadn’t answered.

Frantic, you called him. He answered immediately.

“Hey YN, you—”

“Have you seen my journal?”

“What?”

“My journal. I accidentally left it in your driver’s room yesterday.”

“No? I don’t remember seeing it.”

“Shit…” you whispered. Tears pricked in your eyes yet again.

“I’m on my way to the track, I’ll check when I get there and ask the team about it,” he assured. “We’ll find it.”

“Thanks,” you said, your voice dry.

“Look, are you okay? You just disappeared yesterday—”

“I’m fine,” you lied. He knew you were lying.

“YN, talk to me. Please.” His voice was soft with genuine concern, but it pissed you off. There was no way he could know he was the cause of your upset if you didn’t tell him. But you just couldn’t. Not now, at least.

“Can I just meet you at your driver’s room to look for it?”

He sighed. “Yeah. I’ll be there in ten.” You hung up the call.

You had calmed yourself down a bit before you reached the track, but it was no use when you met Franco at his room and found it empty. The desk where you had set yesterday to write looked strangely devoid of life.

You all wordlessly continued to look for a while, and even went around asking the Williams employees about it, but it was no use. It was gone.

When you returned back to the room, defeated, you couldn’t help but cry.

For fear of embarrassment, you'd never cried in front of Franco before, but you didn’t even have the capacity to try and hide it anymore. At first he looked startled, like he didn’t know what to do. But as you crumpled onto the small couch and he saw your body wracked with sobs, he knew all he could do was hold you.

So that’s what he did.

His touch was warm and comforting, but it just made you weep all the more. He just held you tighter, and you were enveloped in the smell of his cologne. “It’s okay,” he whispered gently to you, “I’m here.”

When the sobs finally left you, he looked in your tear-stained eyes and asked, “Will you talk to me?”

You had never wanted to do anything less. But you knew that these were the moments that counted. Your journal had become a crutch rather than a tool—now was the time to actually do the hard work to get better.

You began, “It’s stupid—”

“I want to know anyway,” he assured.

You paused, then resumed, “It just really hurt me yesterday when you didn’t introduce me to anyone.”

He made a confused face at you. “I didn’t?”

“No, Franco, you didn’t,” you said, your tone getting angrier. “You were too busy flirting with that singer to notice that I was sitting there alone.”

“She asked about you, though. I told her you were just a friend.”

Ouch. Just a friend.

“I thought I was your best friend.”

“You are,” he assured, but it felt hollow.

“It doesn’t feel like it when Lily has to come rescue me from being ignored all day.”

“I’m sorry, YN. I didn’t even realize it, I was just caught up in the conversation. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I just felt like an intruder. I mean… I’m not a famous musician or anyone important in Formula 1. I’m not from Argentina, I don’t speak Spanish—”

He cut you off, “So? And you know my mother would adopt you in a heartbeat.”

You were unamused by his attempt at banter. “So, it just hurts because I don’t belong here. And when you ignore me, I’m just alone.”

He paused. “YN, I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t know what to say.

He continued, “But for the record, I was not flirting with anyone. You know the main reason I spend time with all these people is for the brand, right?”

You looked confused. “The brand? Since when do you care about your brand?” Franco was known for being impossible to media train. Why was he suddenly so concerned with his public reputation?

Even though you were alone in his driver’s room, he looked over his shoulder, listening out for any approaching footsteps. But you all were truly alone in the quiet morning at the paddock. “You have to promise to keep it quiet,” he said.

“I promise,” you whispered.

He leaned in closer. “There’s a chance, a very small chance, but a chance…that I could get a contract with Redbull next year.”

Your eyes widened. He continued, “Checo has been driving so bad that they want him out. But he brings in a lot of money and it’ll cost a lot to break my Williams contract. I need to show them that I can have just as much backing in Argentina as Checo has in Mexico.”

You were practically speechless. “Oh my God, Franco, that’s…”

But Franco was more worried about you. “The people are all nice enough, but I’d prefer your company over theirs any day. You’re still my best friend.”

The tears that threatened to fall now were happy ones, from pride in your best friend and the love you felt for him.

You confessed, “I hope you get it. But I’m so scared that I’ll be left behind and forgotten.”

He reached to hold you again and you let him. “Never,” he said, “never. You’ve been here since the beginning, you’re not getting rid of me any time soon.”

You both broke the embrace and he wiped a tear from your cheek. The soft touch sent shivers down your spine.

“Thank you,” you said.

He smiled at you. “No, thank you for opening up to me. You ready for the race today?”

You nodded, “Always.”

He didn’t score any points, but the points weren’t the point anymore. Your conversation earlier had made you feel so close to him in a way you never had before. You watched the screens in the garage with a religious reverence, looking into his eyes when the camera switched to face him. They were focused, like the only things in the world were him, the car, and the track ahead. And for you, that was all there was in the world, too.

Your celebration after the race was more subdued, but nonetheless supportive. As he walked to the media tent, you all glanced at each other and you mouthed to him proud of you. He winked back.

You all had fallen into a familiar routine of dinner together and winding down in his hotel room, and tonight was no different. Again you all found yourselves in the same positions: him, cross legged on the bed, and you in the chair near him.

The atmosphere was a bit tense though. Being back at the hotel, you couldn’t help but remember the horrible morning, and what you had lost—your journal. Who would have thrown away a journal from his driver's room? You had asked around the paddock again after the race and no one had seen it.

Or maybe it hadn’t been thrown away. Maybe someone took it.

Your mind wandered back to the last few conversations with Franco: your “stolen” lipstick, his asking to read the journal…

No. He wouldn’t. That’d cross a line.

But weren’t the contents of the journal crossing a line themselves?

Franco noticed how you’d gone quieter since you got home from the paddock. You all were both exhausted.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, lazily tracing circles in the comforter.

You responded with your own question. “Franco, will you be honest with me?”

He looked up at you, his face hardened with concern. “Of course.” He looked nervous.

“Do you have my journal?”

He shifted his gaze away from you. “No,” he said, simple as that.

“Franco,” you began, “listen to me. I’m not mad, but you understand how this looks, right? I know we joke about this kind of stuff a lot, but you asked to read it and then it suddenly disappears after I left it in your driver’s room.”

“I didn’t even go back to the room after you left,” he said.

“Maybe not. But you got there this morning before I did. And now it’s gone.”

He paused. “You really think I’d steal your diary?”

The situation had become too tense for your liking. “I’m not trying to accuse you of anything,” you explained, “and I promise, I’m not mad. I just… there’s some things in there that are too personal for me to share with anyone, even you.”

“YN, I don’t have it.”

“Okay. I’m just saying, if you happen to find it, please promise me that you won’t read it. Please,” you quite literally begged.

“I wouldn’t do that to you, YN. You know I was joking when I asked to read it, right?”

He wasn’t joking. Both of you knew that. And both of you knew that he had taken the diary.

You hoped that he would understand what you asked and respect your wishes. In a few days he’d text you saying that a Williams employee had randomly found it—another lie—and he would give it back to you, unread. And your friendship would go on like nothing had ever happened.

But what if it didn’t? What if he read every filthy word you had written about him?

You thought it through over and over later that night, back in your own room but unable to sleep. So you made a plan.

You and Franco, thankfully, would be on the same flight to Brazil. When you landed and went to the hotel, you’d swap out your room keys and go to his room while he did his media duties. Then, you’d find the journal in his room and take it back.

A few problems with the plan. One, It gave him the first 3 days of the week to read it, and two, it was fucking unhinged of you to go through your best friend’s stuff.

You rolled over and angrily groaned into the pillow.

Brazil was going to be an interesting time.

Well, interesting was the understatement of the century.

It began on the flight, a flight that was way too fucking long. Thankfully, Franco had arranged for you to take this one together, so at least you had his company.

You could never sleep on planes, they were too loud and uncomfortable. Franco usually did, but today it seemed he couldn’t; he bounced his legs and darted his eyes around the plane.

“Nervous?” you asked.

“Very,” he answered honestly. “There’s just so much going on this weekend.”

“I know,” you said reassuringly rather than condescendingly. “You really should try to get some rest though. It’s been a long few weeks for you.”

“I can’t. I’m too wired up.”

You felt an unexpected boldness come over you. “Close your eyes,” you directed, “and take a few deep breaths. Stay still.”

He obeyed, and you grabbed his hand from the armrest between you and held it in yours. You felt him tense at the unexpected touch, but you slowly began to trace circles into his palm with your thumb, and he relaxed into it. With his own boldness, he placed his head on your shoulder and exhaled. Within minutes, he was fast asleep. You knew from experience that he’d be asleep for the rest of the flight, so you let yourself get comfortable with the familiar weight of your sleeping best friend pressing into your side.

Slivers of sunlight from the window traced the soft edges of his sleeping form. Even when unconscious, he was beautiful. If you truly wanted to, you could have turned ever so slightly and kissed his forehead without waking him. And God, you truly wanted to.

So you did, gently pressing your lips to the smooth surface of his skin. Maybe this was crossing a line, but it seemed like, at this point, all lines had been crossed between you two.

His presence calmed you enough that you were able to fall asleep, too. When you woke a few hours later, he was still fast asleep by your side, and you savored the moment.

But deep down you wondered how long this would last. You were head over heels in love with him. He was… well, you didn’t know how he felt. But he was your best friend in the entire world. He knew almost everything there was to know about you.

He had four races left in F1. Four races until you would go back to your day to day lives; still intertwined, but not this close. And if he did get the seat, that you so desperately wanted for him? He’d be gone even more than he already was. You couldn’t follow him around the world forever. He’d go from city to city, race to race, club to club, woman to woman.

You felt your stomach drop at the thought of him with another woman. You remembered the singer in Austin, how he said he wasn’t flirting with her, it was for the brand, whatever excuse he could come up with. You guessed it was true. Or maybe he meant that it didn’t really mean anything to him. Just playing up that side of him that the media absolutely loved. His Argentine charm was undeniable.

Okay, then maybe it was true. Everyone knew Franco was a flirt, you especially. But it made it so much harder to determine, then, what was truly meaningful to him and what wasn’t.

But your friendship meant something to him, right? He had asked you to come along to all his races. He made time for you in the midst of the paddock’s chaos. You had slept in the same bed. He held you when you cried. And now, he slept peacefully on your shoulder, hands still intertwined. How could that not mean something?

You didn’t want your fears of the future to make you miss out on the present. At some point you’d have to open up to him. But that moment wasn’t right now.

And you were determined that you’d be the one in control, so when you landed and made it to the hotel, you enacted your plan you’d concocted earlier. When the receptionist handed you the keys, you waited until Franco was fiddling with your luggage to switch out two, making sure to hand him the correct key. He would never need to know that the other key in the little paper pocket was the key to your room, and if he did, he’d just assume there was an issue. A natural cover.

Okay, maybe you were smart and smooth with it.

You knew you wouldn’t see much of Franco in Brazil. With stakes this high, he had an overwhelming amount of team meetings and media duties. Still, as usual, you all made your way to the paddock together.

The energy was electric—in good ways and bad. Good: there were so many Argentine fans that you often found yourself questioning what country you were in. The amount of support was unreal. And each one of them were proud of Franco—but not as proud as you were.

Bad: Literally everything else.

But that was yet to come. You entered the paddock to a flurry of camera shots and a cacophony of voices yelling for Franco.

Usually you liked to stay out of the shot of cameras, but it was impossible here. Franco did his best to draw their attention towards him and away from you, but it was overwhelming nonetheless.

As you all passed a group of fans, one in particular caught your eye. She was holding out two bracelets. “Franco, YN!” she called out.

You both stopped to speak to her. “I made you all bracelets,” she said, handing one to you and the other to Franco. You read the beads: it had Franco’s name, number, and blue hearts. You smiled at the adorable gesture.

“Oh,” Franco said, looking at you, “This one has your name on it. Let’s switch.”

As he moved his hand to do so, the fan said, “No, they’re supposed to be like that. They’re friendship bracelets for you all!”

“Thank you,” you said, unsure if the warmth of your cheeks was a soft blush forming or from the chaos around you. The fan had wanted you to wear each other’s names.

You kept walking, but when you were out of eyeshot, you offered to switch the bracelets around again, thinking the implication was a little too much for him. He refused, keeping your name around his wrist.

He went off to wherever he needed to be, and you went to William’s hospitality to find Lily, but unfortunately, she wasn’t in Brazil at all.

Maybe, in hindsight, what you did next was a terrible decision. But you did it anyway.

You made your way to Franco’s drivers room for some privacy and pulled up your social media, looking to see what people were saying about him.

Ever since he had confided about his potential for a seat next year, you had also cared about his brand, too. And, officially or unofficially, you were a part of that. Like Lily had told you, people were speculating. You just hoped that what she said about the people loving you was true.

Fortunately, it was.

Franco and YN being obliviously in love with each other; a thread

You tapped on the post, reading your way through the comments.

Does YN know that she’s living our dream?

Oh to be YN, being loved by Franco like that.

Need someone to look at me the way YN and Franco look at each other.

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love YN, but Franco should be with an Argentine girl. They’d be a power couple.

The comment soured your mood. You kept reading anyway.

Guys, I met YN in Austin and she was so sweet! Our girl is chronically offline because she was so surprised that I even knew who she was and like, girl, WHAT DO YOU MEAN? WE ARE ALL ROOTING FOR YOU!!

You smiled, the memory of the girl in Austin coming back to your mind.

I love how we have all collectively decided to adopt YN as the newest wag even though her and Franco aren’t even dating

You laughed to yourself, remembering how Lily had mistaken you for a wag when you first talked. Maybe that was the reason why.

You read the replies:

To be fair, you don’t look at someone like that unless you LOVE LOVE them

Does anyone else think this is weird tho? I mean, they're just friends but the entire internet wants them to get together, must make things so awkward…

Honestly I’m glad they’re not together because if my bf flirted with other women the way Franco flirts with reporters, I’d throw the whole man away

You snorted. Of course, these random people on the internet didn’t know you, but they seemed to get inside your head a little too much for comfort. Or maybe you just weren’t as good at hiding your emotions as you always thought you were.

Speaking of hiding your emotions, you had a job to do. Checking your clock, you knew that Franco was going to be busy for the next 3 hours before you all had planned to meet up again. He had a very important meeting with Christian Horner. Your heart skipped a beat and you said a silent prayer for your friend.

But now, you have a mission. You were going to get your journal back.

It would have been an easy task, if not for the fans. Thankfully you got out and into an uber undetected, but upon opening the door to his room, you cursed them in your head.

Gifts were everywhere. His team must have been gathering them all week, and Franco clearly wasn’t organizing them.

You thought 3 hours would be more than enough to leave, find your journal, return it to your room, and get back to the paddock unnoticed. Maybe, you thought wrong. This was going to be a long 3 hours.

As you searched, back at the paddock, Franco sat in the meeting that would decide the course of the rest of his life. His leg bounced uncontrollably, his mouth was dry, and he felt like he was going to throw up his breakfast.

He wished you were here. Your presence always calmed him in moments like these; he had no idea where you were, and the intimidating presence of Christian Horner across the table did nothing to ease his nerves.

“I’ve got to admit,” Horner said, “he’s exceeded everyone’s expectations. But a couple good races doesn’t tell us much.”

Franco’s manager replied, “Of course, we understand. But he’s got more than enough of a fanbase to rival any driver. I mean, just look outside and it’s a sea of Argentine flags!”

“Fans are good, but does that translate to sponsors? I mean, you’ve got to compete with Disney here. Not every driver can bring in that level of support.”

“We’ve gotten some strong sponsors recently, and a lot more in the works currently. Franco’s future is promising.”

“What about his PR? Any disasters there?” Horner laughed.

Franco’s manager, however, did not. “He’s good. The fans love him, and he knows when to shut up.”

Franco suppressed a laugh. Anyone who had been around him for more than 5 minutes knew that he was a PR nightmare. And it seemed Horner knew it too.

“Now, that’s not what I’ve heard,” he said. “I’ve seen the videos. You strike the balance well for the most part, but you can’t be telling people not to buy Redbull merch.” They all laughed. “And you can’t be bringing your girlfriend to every race.”

Franco’s manager began to speak, but not before Franco cut her off. “My girlfriend?”

“Yeah, YN isn’t it? As far as I’ve seen, the fans like her, but if she’s constantly around they’ll get fatigued. Again, it’s a delicate balance.”

“YN isn’t my girlfriend.” The sentence felt…odd, as Franco said it with a matter of fact tone.

“Oh, even better. We can get you with an Argentinian woman, then. Maximize that market.”

“A PR relationship? Those are real?” Franco questioned, and Horner laughed, as if Franco was the dumbest one in the room, and he certainly felt like it.

“Not really. Just be seen a few times, like some posts, maybe go to events together if you wanna really get serious about it. Generate talk, you know.”

“Isn’t that what happens with YN now anyway? I mean, everyone already thinks we’re dating.”

“Yeah, but she’s nobody. No offense,” Horner said, as if his comment held no weight. “But with a celebrity or model? That really gets people talking. A little controversy is good.”

Franco felt sick to his stomach. She’s nobody. But she was somebody, to him. She was his best friend.

“Look, kid,” Horner began, “I agree that you’ve got promise, but it’s too early to make any decisions right now. Show us what you’ve got in these last few races, and maybe we can work something out.”

Everyone rose to exchange polite goodbyes and handshakes. Franco felt like he was in a totally different plane of existence.

His manager came over to him afterwards. “You did well, Franco. We’ll just do as he said—keep focused, get results, and keep your head down. Seriously, watch it with the media.”

Franco nodded absentmindedly, but his manager wasn’t happy with that response. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Franco began, “Look, a PR relationship, seriously? And he’s telling me I can’t have my best friend in the paddock?”

“I think YN will survive if she doesn’t come to every single race.”

“But I want her here with me. I don’t want to hurt her.” He remembered Austin, holding you while you cried, afraid that he’d leave you behind. And here push had come to shove.

His manager looked at him, incredulous. “Seriously, Franco, this is what you're focused on? You have a shot at a seat with Redbull, and you’re more focused on not hurting YN’s feelings? How do you expect to achieve this with that attitude?”

Franco was upset now. “Don’t say that. Even Horner said I’ve been exceeding expectations.”

“I know you have, and we’re all proud of you. But you need to stay focused. Leave the women alone.”

“YN is not just a random woman, she’s my best friend.”

His manager’s frustration was growing by the second. “I know Franco. I know you love her, we all love her. But she is not your priority right now. Your future is, okay?”

Hearing those words felt like a rollercoaster, complete with the euphoric highs and stomach churning lows. I know you love her—well, it was true, you were his best friend. But what kind of love? He didn’t know, and besides, the low—she is not your priority right now—he didn’t have the time or space to find out.

He had a job to do.

All the while, you also had a job to do, but you were failing spectacularly. You had searched every square inch of that fucking room. You looked in every nook and cranny, every pocket and pouch, under the covers and even in the bathroom. Your journal wasn’t there.

There was no way Franco was this good at hiding anything (other than emotions, maybe). You now had to entertain the possibility that you had been wrong all along.

Maybe he didn’t have the journal. Maybe you had just accused him of lying and shown that you don’t really trust your best friend.

You let out a frustrated groan as you put everything back in place. You couldn’t believe it.

If he didn’t have the journal, then where was it?

It was a question you’d have to answer later, because right now you were racing to reconfigure his room and get back to the paddock before anyone noticed that you were gone.

You barely made it in time, arriving at the Williams garage with your body in fight or flight mode. You spotted Franco instantly.

“YN! There you are,” he said. “I thought I lost you.”

“Oh yeah, I was with some fans.” The lie just slipped out without you having to think about it. You’d never done that before—who were you becoming?

Franco looked confused. “You were? Since when do you willingly leave the paddock?” he questioned, clearly joking.

“Since I have to help the brand,” you smiled. “By the way, how did the meeting go?”

He just replied, “Good.”

Franco was never a man of few words, so his hesitancy to speak was a red flag.

“Top secret?” you asked, thankfully giving him an out.

“Yeah, it’s… complicated.”

“Well, you know I’m always here rooting for you,” you said, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand. The gesture sent shivers down your spine.

Seriously, who were you becoming?

The next day didn’t make the situation any easier. The morning sprint had granted Franco another 12th place finish—no points, but still respectable. At least, it was to you. You could tell that he wasn’t happy. You knew that he pushed himself too hard, because how else would he be able to achieve, but it still broke your heart. You assumed that the meeting yesterday hadn’t been the greatest, and you wished that Franco would talk to you about it. But he didn’t. That was okay, you’d done the same to him before. You just wanted to be there to support him, even if it meant being on the sidelines, in the dark both physically and metaphorically.

And the darkness was looming over Interlagos. The forecast was horrific. The reality was even more horrific.

As the rain poured down in sheets, you silently said a prayer for all the poor souls with General Admission tickets who must be swimming right now. You were nice and dry under the paddock, thankfully, but outside it was practically a monsoon.

Everyone knew qualifying would get postponed, it was just a matter of time until a final decision would be made. The atmosphere was tense—a championship battle loomed in the distance between Max and Lando, and Franco would be driving for his life.

But as the hours passed and the rain continued, the energy around the paddock loosened up. You saw Lando and Oscar at the gates waving to fans, George jumping in puddles, Ollie taking naps against the warm tires.

So, of course, Franco would enjoy his time too.

His manager stood in the back corner of the garage, talking with one of the media interns. Looking at her, Franco felt his frustration return. He had never been the stubborn type. But since making it to Formula 1, he had been told what to do left and right. Go here, say this, don’t do that. It pissed him off.

He was going to do what he wanted to, at least this once.

Of course, you were oblivious to all of this. You didn’t know what to make of it when he walked onto the pit lane, exposing himself to the elements. Within seconds his fluffy curls were flattened and he would be dripping in rainwater when he came back into the garage.

“YN!” he called into the garage. “Come dance with me!”

You looked up from your phone, and the garage around you was still buzzing, but you could feel everyone’s necks craning to listen and look upon whatever antics Franco was up to.

You just laughed and shook your head. You weren’t getting out in that mess.

But you didn’t have a choice. Franco marched his way up to the garage and yanked you out.

You yelped his name playfully as he dragged you to the middle of the pitlane and put his arms around your waist.

“What are you doing?” you asked him through your widening smile.

“Dancing. Having fun,” he answered. His arms stayed around your waist, too close to be platonic.

You turned to the crowd of fans in the grandstand in the distance. “We have an audience. Is this good for the brand?”

It would seem ‘the brand’ was becoming a running bit, until Franco shut it down. “Fuck the brand. Dance with me.”

He pulled you closer, the only thing separating you being the layers of clothes that were thinning with the rain. He spun you and you all danced back and forth, giggling when you splashed in the puddles swiftly gathering around you.

And then he dipped you. The world felt like it stopped for a moment. You were suspended in air, an electric warmth between you and your best friend, the only two people in the world.

He brought you back up and you both stopped. Your eyes met for what must have only been a split second. It was like all at once, all the love you had for him flooded your heart, stronger than the unrelenting rain.

Everything about him was beautiful. His arms wrapped around your waist, his eyes now looking at your lips—

He was going to kiss you.

That is, until his manager yelled at you both from inside the garage. “Franco! Quit fucking around and get in here!”

The moment was ruined.

You both sheepishly returned to the garage. Your anxiety had faded in that perfect moment with him, but had now returned with a vengeance upon hearing the frustration of his manager. Luckily, everyone else in the garage seemed to not care. But Franco looked like a kid getting called to the principal’s office at school.

Before you even got back in the garage, you turned to him and said, “Franco, I’m sorry for getting you in trouble, I—”

He cut you off. “You didn’t get me in trouble,” he joked, “I got myself in trouble. Don’t worry about it. You can shower in my driver’s room, I should have a spare sweater in there. I’ll try to meet you there.”

You nodded as you went your separate ways.

You did as Franco said, having a quick shower and doing your best to dry your hair in his driver’s room. You grabbed the spare Williams quarter zip he had and slid it on, relishing in the warmth and the smell of his cologne. You felt safe here, quiet and alone, knowing that he’d come meet you when he could. You scrolled on your phone to pass the time.

Of course, it had only been minutes and you all had already gone viral.

You tapped on the post of a gossip page.

Williams driver Franco Colapinto and friend YN seen in Interlagos having a sweet moment dancing in the rain! Although the pair are quoted calling each other just friends, fans continue to speculate about the true nature of their relationship. What do you think? Sound off below!

You scrolled to the comments.

Might as well just make out with her in parc ferme smh

Why are they actually the main characters of a rom com

Sooooooo when is he proposing

YN the woman that you are. I’d ask what we are after being held like that

You smiled. Maybe the internet was starting to grow on you.

Back in the paddock, Franco was soaked to the bone, shivering, and being scolded by his manager.

“I told you to keep a low profile. What was that stunt?”

“I was just having fun—”

“I know. That’s the problem. You are not here to have fun. You are here to compete.”

“Having fun doesn’t impact my ability to drive,” he said, his voice sharp with anger. “Look, I get that you want what is best for me. But I’m not stupid. Fans love this kind of stuff, they eat it up. And I’m improving every day with my driving. Just let me do what I do best.”

“And you’re doing this purely for the fans?” she asked. They both knew the answer. Franco was silent. She continued, “Franco, she’ll be here at the end of the season no matter what. But this opportunity won't if you don’t focus. You’re distracted.”

“This will be good publicity. The fans like it when I’m flirty.”

“You’re not here to be flirty. You’re here to drive,” she said with a forceful and final tone. She sighed. “The FIA just announced that quali is postponed until tomorrow morning. Go back to the hotel, get some rest, and come back tomorrow ready to perform, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed.

When he finally made it back to his driver’s room, he found you asleep on the small couch. He thought his heart would burst.

Quietly, he took a shower and changed into dry clothes. He sat down and just watched your sleeping frame, taking in how beautiful you were.

But you couldn’t stay here all night. He woke you up by gently brushing your hair out of your face, and you stirred at his touch.

“YN,” he whispered. “Quali is postponed. Time to go.” You sleepily rose and followed him out of the paddock, only fully waking up on the Uber ride back to the hotel.

The drive was quiet, but peaceful. It was dark out, and the rain scattered the light from the street lamps of Sao Paulo. Franco looked out the window, contemplative. It was a side of him you'd never seen before.

You placed your hand in the middle between you two, and wordlessly, he held it in his own.

It was unspoken, this new…thing, between you two. You both knew that something had fundamentally changed. It was a question of who would crack first.

Franco knew, though, that his manager was right. He needed to focus. He needed to deliver. And you’d be here at the end.

But when he laid in his bed alone later that night, he couldn’t rest. All he could think about was that moment you both had felt, and his eyes that had focused on the soft skin of your lips. How badly he had wanted you in that moment.

A line had been crossed, yes, but that wasn’t the only one.

In his backpack, there had been a weight that had hung over him the past few days. A metaphorical one. He had kept it on his person at all times for safekeeping, not wanting to risk anyone finding out what he’d done.

He told himself he wouldn’t do it. But he needed more of you that he couldn’t have—not now, at least.

But he could have this, right now.

So he sat up in bed, grabbing the small leather diary from the bag, and opened the first page.

365 notes · View notes

xhoneygirlxx · 1 year ago

Text

WANTED U

Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader

summary: when your date is ruined by your best friend, can you stay mad at him when he reveals a secret you've been dying to know?

warnings: fluff, slight angst, Eddie is deep in his feels, two idiots in love. Minors DNI 18+ ONLY! mentions of drinking, Eddie gets drunk. swearing. p in v, creampie (wrap it up kiddos), fingering, body worship and praise. Reader's race/ethnicity is not mentioned! she/her pronouns used. Both Eddie and Reader are in their twenties. Also not proofread, spelling errors and horrible writing!

*if I miss anything please let me know!

a/n: Hi honey bunnies! I just want to thank @ali-r3n for this really cute idea! I'm so sorry it took me forever to post and I'm sorry about the shitty writing! Smut is not my strong suit and I've been plagued with the horrible writers block, so I hope this is okay! I hope you like this and thank you for being so wonderful and patient <3

All you wanted to do was to go on one date. One singular date. For the first time since your high school prom, you were going out with someone who was interested in you. A tinder match that led to multiple conversations, that led to having drinks, to hopefully going back to his place for a well needed time in the sheets.

That was the plan for the night. Then your phone started to blow up with phone calls and texts, an apparent SOS that couldn’t wait. So you had to cancel, mid-date, telling your date that there was a family emergency. You knew walking out of there that Jordan wouldn’t text you back or ever take you up on the second date offer.

It wasn’t like you were heartbroken over it, however you were a little bummed. The whole reason you even got on the dating app was because you were trying to get over your best friend. Eddie Munson stole your heart at the age of fifteen and had yet to give it back. It was a sick cycle that you have been going through for nine years.

You were the lovesick best friend, who just couldn’t take the hint, following him around like a lost dog. Eddie had you wrapped around his finger and you didn’t care. Canceling plans just because he wanted to see you, doing whatever he asked just because, and never dating with the hopes of him finally falling for you.

Those dreams were fruitless however, because Eddie didn’t see you as anything more than a friend. All the pining and unrequited love was killing you, a slow painful death that would put medieval torture devices to shame. It’s not like you could blame the brown haired boy, it’s not like you can pick who you fall for, but that didn’t stop you from wishing it would happen.

So therefore you took the giant leap and put yourself out there, trying to ease the ache of your heart. In the end you ended up in Eddie’s apartment, helping him in his drunken state, get to bed. The emergency that Jeff blew your phone up for, was this. A night out with the guys turned into Eddie getting belligerent and refusing to leave until you came and got him.

The whole car ride there you were disappointed in yourself, the whole reason for your dumb date was to stop yourself from running to the rescue every time he called. You were annoyed and heavily frustrated with the outcome of your night. It almost felt like the universe was against you, whatever god above watching you and laughing every single time you failed to move on.

As much as you wanted to hate the grown man sitting in front of you, you simply couldn’t. His whiskey colored eyes round and glossy, nose and cheeks rosy with the heat of alcohol coursing through him, and his hair messy from the cold night wind. He was so pretty and it was hard trying to stay mad at him, especially when he had a deep dimpled smile adorning his face.

“Alright Eds, I need you to change out of your clothes.” You say sweetly, the pile of his pajama’s hanging in your hands.

Following your instructions, he tries to lift his shirt over his head, only for it to get caught on his head. “Sweets, I need help.” He sounds like a helpless child trying to tie his shoes, and you have to stifle a laugh.

Placing the change of clothes next to him on the bed, you swiftly pull the stuck fabric off of him. When his head is released, he shakes his hair out of his face so he can see you. A childlike wonder flits in his eyes as he looks at you, admiring the way you’re being so gentle.

A small thank you is whispered, you hum in response as you pull the new shirt on him. His eyes close as you gently tug his arms through the hole, soaking up the amount of attention you give to him. It feels like you’re changing a newborn, so docile and content with the way you handle him.

“Can you take your pants off yourself or do you need me to help?” Your voice breaks his sleepy demeanor, droopy eyes looking up at you.

“You gonna buy me dinner first?” Wiggling his eyebrows, he playfully smirks at you.

“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan, yet your heart beat picks up at his innuendo.

Surprisingly, he’s able to take his bottoms off and replace them with the pair you picked out for him. Pulling the jewelry off his wrist and fingers, you place them hastily on his bedside table. His eyes follow your every move, like a curious kitty watching their owner. Pulling back the covers on his bed, you gently lay him down and prop his head up with pillows.

“So you have your bottle of water right here,” You show him by picking it up off the table where it’s sat, “And the bottle of Tylenol is right next to it. Now if at any moment you feel like you have to throw up, the garbage can is right next to you on the floor. Okay?”

Humming to you in understanding, he closes his eyes once more. When you think he’s about to pass out, you turn on your heel to grab clothes for yourself. Not getting far, his big hand wraps around your wrist gently, bringing your attention back to him. This time his expression isn’t as content or happy. No, his eyes are glassy with unshed tears and his bottom lip jets out in a pout.

“Please don’t leave.” It’s a whispered plea, innocent and childlike.

“I’m not leaving Eds, just grabbin’ some clothes to change into.” Even with your assuring smile, he’s still frowning at you.

“Please just, don’t leave.” Tugging your arm slightly, he brings you closer to the bed.

“Eddie, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” You’re now concerned with the state of your best friend and why he felt the need to beg you to stay.

“Promise? What about Jacob?”

“Eddie, what are you talking about?” Although he closes his eyes again, you still press for answers.

“I don’t wanna lose you t’some douche. You needa be with me, sweets cause I love you s’much. Don’t wanna lose you to him.” It’s all a slurred mess, his words mumbling together as they fall out of his mouth.

“If you mean Jordan, no I’m not going to leave you for him” You giggle softly, “I left my date with him to come get you. Plus his stories about kayaking were starting to get boring.” You try to lighten the mood, but it only makes his lip wobble more.

“I shoulda made a move, I wanted to b-but I-I was scared. Gareth told me I lost my chance with you and he-he was right.” A few stray tears fall down his cheek and you lift a hand to wipe them away.

The same brown eyes you fell in love with, all those years ago, stare up at you. The heart that’s bleed for him for nine years is starting to heal, the words you so desperately wanted to hear are finally coming to light.

With your own tears glistening in your eyes, you look down at him like you always do. With the biggest heart in your eyes and brightest smile on your face. “You should stop listening to Gareth, Eds. I think you still have a shot, but we’ll talk about this later. When you’re not drunk.”

Bobbing his head the best he can, he squeezes your hand once before retracting it. With his eyes closed and steady breaths leave his parted lips, you get changed and turn off the lights. Maybe the universe wasn’t against you, maybe it was on your side the whole time and just had a funny way of showing it.

The bright sun pouring through the window, wakes you up. The sight before you is one you’ve seen before. The side profile of your best friend’s face, wild hair sprawled over the pillow that lays beneath him. You take this moment in to study his features, the slope of his nose, the way his eyelashes kiss the tops of his cheeks, and how kissable his lips look.

Not much later is he stirring, stretching his limbs out after his wild night out. Cracking one of his eyes open, he winces slightly before running his hands down his face. Blinking once or twice, he finally lets himself wake up, staring straight at the ceiling. You wonder if he remembers what he said or if you should bring it up. Instead you choose to play it cool, or at least try to.

“Good morning drunky! How’d you sleep?” Reaching a finger out, you poke his side.

“Drunky,” he snorts,” I actually slept well, thanks to my wonderful nurse.” He takes a peak over at you, a smug smile already pushing his cheeks up high.

You try to ignore the butterflies in your tummy when you hear his voice, thick and husky with sleep. The giddy feeling rushing through you is written all over your face, covered up by a bad attempt of biting back a smile.

“Well, I’m glad you don’t feel so shitty.” You say, stretching your body to distract yourself from his burning gaze.

“What time is it anyway?” His question comes out in a yawn, loud and exaggerated. Propping up on your elbow, you lean over him to get a look at your alarm clock.

“A little past ten.” Eddie huffs, muttering something about it being far too early. “I know it’s too early for you but that just means we can go to Jerry’s and get waffles to soak up whatever's left in your system.” You coo at him mockingly, fake pouting as you look at him.

“Ya know, I don’t enjoy your fake pity.” Eddie rolls his eyes at you, a frown pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Oh I’m sorry, Eds. Want some ketchup with those cries?” Eddie’s frown deepens like a bratty child, and you eat up every second of it. “Oh, I know! I’ll call a wambulance.” You throw your head back, laughing at your own joke.

With your attention off of him, he sees the perfect opportunity to laugh. At lightning speed, he grips your hands, flipping you over on your back. With the weight of his thighs bracketing you and his hand gripping your wrists together, you’re defenseless.

With a wild glint in his eyes, Eddie wastes no time in attacking you with a finger to your side. Relentlessly, Eddie tickles you to the point there are tears in your eyes from how hard you're laughing, and your pleas for him to stop are swallowed by the oxygen that’s being stolen from your lungs.

“It’s not so funny when it’s your turn, huh?” Smirking down at you, his attack doesn’t relent.

Thrashing around the best you can, you try everything to get him off but with the way his thighs squeeze your legs together makes it hard to do so.

“Okay, Okay! I’m sorry, Eddie! Please!” The last word comes out as the softest moan, so soft that you would miss it if you weren’t paying attention. However, Eddie was and his fingers stopped digging into your sides immediately.

The sound of your heavy breathing is the only thing to be heard. Eddie stares down at you, eyes unblinking and cheeks dusted pink. The usually brown eyes are now dark, the dark pupil over taking the iris. You stare right back at him, chest rising and falling dramatically and lips parted slightly letting the air from your lungs flow out easily.

It feels like the world has stopped, time frozen still for eternity. The mid-morning light painting the two of you in a portrait, cementing the moment forever. Two heart beats synching up together, beating against the bones of your rib cages.

“Fuck it.”

Eddie rushes in to smash his lips against yours. Years of waiting and wondering if this moment would ever happen, now finally laying to rest. The taste of him has been the missing part of your life this whole time and you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing.

It’s sweet and slow, his tongue slipping inside your mouth softly. Morning breath be damned, the two of you make out for what seems like hours on end. Parting from each other for much needed air, a small giggle leaves your mouth.

“What?” Eddie smiles, his face as dopey and gooey as you feel on the inside.

“I just wanted this for so long.” You admit, making his smile pull wider.

Leaning back down to you, he peppers kisses all over your face. The snickering that’s leaving your mouth is slowly turned into a whimper when his lips find their way to your neck. A gasp pulls from your chest the minute he finds that spot, eliciting him to suck on it. Hissing when it becomes too much, Eddie is quick to soothe the sting with his tongue.

Pulling his face away from the crevice of your neck, his eyes find yours as his hand glides to find the hem of your shirt. Tugging on it and raising an eyebrow in question, you nod overenthusiastically.

Ripping the oversized shirt over your face, he takes his time to memorize all the details of your skin. The heat of his stare becomes a bit too much, worry overtaking your brain causing you to bite down on your lip.

“I just want you to know that I’ve waited since freshman year to see these bad boys.” Attention still drawn on your bare chest.

“Well, do they live up to the hype?” You question, tone not as confident as you think.

Eddie’s head whips up to you, mouth agape and you swear you can see drool pooling from his lips. “Sweets, you have no idea.”

Diving in, he kisses the doughy flesh of your breasts, going back and forth between the two. Like a magnet to a fridge, his lips find the hardened bud and latches on. Switching between sucking and flicking his tongue, you squirm underneath him trying to find some sort of friction for the ache in between your legs.

“You have no idea how many times I jerked off to the thoughts of this.” Eddie mutters as he moves his attention to the opposite nipple.

Between his admission and the feeling of his warm mouth on your sensitive skin, you moan loudly. The feeling of more wetness pool in your panties alerts you, the overwhelming feeling of need buzzing through you. A small whine comes from you and it catches Eddie’s attention.

Pulling away from your breast and peering up at you, he cocks his head to the side. “What’s wrong, baby? Want some cheese for that whine?”

When his canine teeth shine through his devilish smirk, you whimper. You hate that he’s using your game from earlier against you, teasing you like he doesn’t know what you want.

“What is it, sweets? Tell me what you want.” Fake pity drips from his question and it only eggs you on more.

Eddie’s got you so worked up that you can’t even speak. Lifting your hips to show him what you need, you frown harder when he laughs at you.

“Oh, princess,” He coos, running his thumb along your lower lip, “Be the good girl I know you are, and ask. Can you do that f’me?” Nodding your head, he encourages you with an assuring smile.

“C-can you touch me, please?” Your voice sounds so small and you’d honestly cringe if it weren’t for the fact that you know you’re dripping out of the fabric of your panties onto his bed.

Sighing heavily, Eddie gives your bottom lip a small tug with his thumb, letting the bottom row of your teeth show before it bounces back up into place.

“I would tease you more but you asked so nicely.” Shuffling down your body, he loops his fingers through the sides and guides the thin material down your legs.

Pushing his way through your thighs, Eddie runs the tip of his middle finger up the slit of your sex. His finger grazes lightly over your bundle of nerves, causing you to jolt from the feeling.

“You’re really fucking wet.” Eddie says breathlessly as he parts your glistening lips apart with his fingertips.

Not waiting for your response, Eddie circles his finger around your entrance before plunging it in slowly. The stretch from his finger makes you arch slightly, a muffled moan falling from your mouth. Using the pad of his thumb, he swirls your clit in alternating circles and figure eights.

“More, Eds. Fuck, please!” You beg and who is Eddie to deny you. Pushing another finger inside, he curls them just right and starts going faster.

“Fuck you’re so greedy, baby. Isn’t that right, you’re s’greedy for me, huh?” With his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his cheeks a pretty burgundy shade, he looks just as fucked out as you.

Writhing underneath him, you babble nonsense as his fingers hit that spot you always struggle to. “Yes! M’so greedy - Shit!”

“You gonna let me taste you? Gonna let me eat this pretty cunt?” You don’t even get a chance to answer, your body already doing it for you by clenching around his fingers. “Oh she likes that, huh? You like imagining me in between these pretty thighs, baby?”

“Think ‘bout it all the time.” You moan, hips rocking against his hand as you try to chase your high.

“Yeah, sweets? Think about me when you play with this pretty pussy?”

That’s all it takes for you to come undone, gushing around his fingers with a muted scream. Your back arches off the bed, eyes rolled into the back of your head, as the feeling of your orgasm washes over you.

Eddie helps you ride through it, continuing his motions until your tense muscles relax into a jelly like state. When you come back down from your high, you whimper at the loss of his fingers. Moving your eyes to him, you watch as he sticks his middle and forefinger in his mouth, moaning when the taste of you hits his taste buds.

“Yeah, I’m definitely gonna have to eat you out.” Eddie grins at you and you roll your eyes playfully back at him.

“That sounds absolutely wonderful, but” You begin to say and his face drops with the fear of rejection, “I’m going to need you to fuck me in the next thirty seconds.” You smirk and his jaw drops.

After fifteen seconds of pure shock, Eddie shakes his head and tries to play it cool.

“Yeah totally, let me just-” His sentence is cut off when he begins to struggle out of his own clothes.

Once he’s stark naked and hovering over you, you laugh giddily up at him. Putting his forehead to you, he studies your eyes for any sort of regret or doubt.

“Eds, I promise you I want this.” You reassure him, making sure to prove the point with a loving kiss.

With his confidence boosted, Eddie snakes his hand down to guide himself into you. When the tip breaches your entrance, the both of you gasp at the feeling.

Pushing in slowly, he brings his lips back to yours, swallowing your moans. Once he's all the way in, Eddie gives you a minute to adjust before he starts moving.

Nodding your head to let him know you're good, he pulls almost all the way out before ramming back into you, knocking the wind from your lungs.

"Fuuck, sweets. S'fuckin' tight." His voice trembles as he pounds into you.

"You're so big, I can feel you s'deep." You slur, drunk on the way his cock stretches you, hitting that sweet spot with every drag of his hips.

Eddie resituates himself, pushing your knees up to your chest, before bringing his chest back down to yours. This way you can feel him even deeper, which you didn't even think was possible.

You're on fire, belly burning bright with fire. Eddie's everywhere, he's all you can see, hear, smell, touch, think, he's invaded every single one of your senses and you can't get enough.

His eyebrows are furrowed, eyes closed with the pure bliss of being inside of you. It's so intimate yet so dirty and it's driving you insane.

Opening his eyes, he looks down at you like you've hung the stars that shine in the sky.

"I wanted this for so long, sweets. I wanted you, so Fuck-" He hangs his head, speeding up the movements of his hips. A roaring sob comes out of your mouth, the fire in you burning hotter with every drag of his thick cock.

"I'm so in love with you, sweets. Been yours since I was sixteen." Finally he confesses, letting the sacred secret out, only this time he's drunk off of you.

"I love you too! Fuck-I love you so fucking much."

"Tell me you're mine. Please, tell me." He begs and you comply, growing closer and closer to the edge.

"M'yours, been yours since I was fifteen." You confess and it feels like the weight of the world has lifted off of you.

With one last thrust, you come undone with a loud cry. Eddie doesn't let up his movements, now only focusing on his own release.

The way his hips stutter, you know that he won't last too much longer.

"I want you to cum in me, Eds. I wanna feel s'bad." You coax and that's all it takes for the metalhead to come with a stuttering grunt.

Lazily thrusting into you, he finally stops when he becomes overstimulated. The room is once again calm, the now afternoon sun blinds you as it seeps into the room. Heavy breathing and content hums fill the room, while the scent of sex lingers in the air.

Shyly removing himself from your chest, Eddie looks at you sheepishly. "Now what?"

If you didn't know Eddie you'd probably think he's being rude, but you know that he really is just overthinking everything that just happened. In his mind he thinks you're probably regretting everything, even though you told him you felt the same way.

Using your hand to pull some of the hair that sticks to his cheeks away, you smile affectionately at him.

"Well, I was thinking we could still go to Jerry's for breakfast," Eddie still looks at you like he's waiting for the ball to drop, "Then I thought you could keep your promise and eat your girlfriend out. That is, if you're not too full."

"Really?" He looks like a puppy who just heard its favorite word, excited with it's tail wagging back and forth.

Snickering up at him, you nod your head rapidly. Pulling out of you quickly, Eddie runs out of the room and you can hear the chaos of clattering from behind the door.

"Eddie, what are you doing?" More giggles fall from your lips as he races back in with a wet wash rag in his hand.

"Gotta clean you up before we go out to eat, baby. That way I can recreate our masterpiece later." He says wiggling his eyebrows.

Yeah this was the dork you fell in love with and who you were going to love for the rest of your life.

Thank you all for reading! I'm sorry it's not the best!

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x female reader

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caplanbuckybarnes · 2 months ago

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In The Lonely Shadows (2/2) Dean W.

Summary: Crowely's always there to help convince you everything's going to be okay after Dean leaves with Lisa & Ben.

the first part of this was requested by my beloved wife @midnight-moonlight-and-mars sometime back in March.

Request: I've got a Crowley request! It can be platonic or romantic. It takes place the year Sam is resurrected and dean is living with Lisa. The reader was close with the Winchesters but after the fight with Lucifer dean abandoned the reader to be with Lisa and cas never answers ( unrequited love maybe?) so the reader teams up with Crowley and becomes like a bounty hunter for him for Lucifer loyalists.

A/N: It's technically not Crowley x reader since she's pining for Dean. Oops, but I hope you enjoy this all the same, my love.

A/N #2: people were rabid about asking me for a part two. So please, enjoy!

WC: 1.7K

Warnings: mentions of loneliness, and blood, the reader feels abandoned and unloved, crowley’s nice, dean returns. sassy & protective crowley

[READ PART ONE HERE]

Read on Ao3!

Dean watched as your chest heaved up and down with every breath you took. The wind was howling outside, with rain pouring down. He was only partially soaked, having run for cover under teh pitiful awning above your hotel door. A suitcase was tucked into one hand and a backpack filled with supplies slung over the shoulder. He'd wanted to say goodbye before he left. But he couldn't. He was a coward, after all. He'd had a few visits from Castiel and Crowley, neither of them saying a word about you.

Though, he asked. He hasn’t spoken a word about Sam, either. The horror of watching Sam fall into the pits of Hell with Adam devastated him. So he ran away. He ran away to the person who would get him away from the hunter’s life, Lisa and Ben. He played pretend for as long as he possibly could.

Until he couldn’t keep up with the facade anymore. All he did was think about you, and the life the pair of you could have had. He’d find himself hovering over your name in his cellphone but never pressing the call button. Oftentimes, he’s stay up late at night, while Lisa laid peacefully next to him sleeping. He knew he couldn’t lie to her forever about what - or who - truly had his heart.

Oftentimes, when he dreamed, it was about you, your face and your hands wrapped tightly in his as you started behind him on hunts. Thats what he loved about you the most, how much you trusted him to protect you.

So months after he departed, he located you in this dingy motel, where rodents and garbage littered the parking lot, and a few street lamps flickered dangerously in this damned storm. He’d gotten a replacement key to your room, claiming to the sketchy old man at the kiosk that he was your husband and you didn’t leave the key outside for him. So, on the threshold of the hotel room is where he stood, his fight or flight response kicking in the moment he laid eyes on you again.

He hadn’t seen you in months, far too long. But not long enough to forget the way your cheeks puffed out while you were embarrassed or the way your hair always fell into your face when you’d laugh at his stupid jokes. He couldn’t forget the way you would shuffle into his warmth at night, either.

God, did he miss the way you infected all of his clothing with your perfumes.

He hesitantly stepped into the room, only to stop midway through in almost a panic. What if you moved on? What if you didn’t want to see him? What if you shot him? He wondered at that moment if you held any protection on you, or if you’d thrown all of it away.

But he took the chance anyway and stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him quietly. He quietly toed out of his shoes and turned around before fully surveying the room. He couldn’t see any other person’s belongings in the room, so he assumed you were indeed alone.

Nervously, he tiptoed to the bed and studied your face for a long moment. He remembered everything about you-- your eyelashes, the dimple on your cheek. He wanted to reach out to you, nearly stopping himself as he felt his arm move without his command. He brushed his fingers against your cheek before he knew what he was doing and stepped back as your eyes had flung open in terror.

“Y/N,Y/N, it’s me, it’s Dean,” he said, reaching behind him for the pistol he always carried with him, though, he would never attempt to hurt you in any sort of way. “Hey, hey.”

“Dean?” you blinked through the darkness of the room. You must have been sleeping. Because you thought you heard Dean’s voice. And you thought you seen him standing mere inches away from where you slept on the bed.

Before he could get the chance to respond, another voice filled the room, a voice you’d come to recognize and acknowledge throughout these last few months.

“She doesn’t need you, Squirrel. She’s doing great without you.” Crowley’s voice echoed in the small room.

Pulling yourself into a sitting position on the bed, you wiped at your eyes before switching your gaze between the pair in front of you. Crowley had been watching you over the weeks, which you had grown weirdly accustomed to, so it was no surprise that he had appeared out of the blue. What had startle you, was the other man standing mere inches away from you. If you just lifted your arm a few inches, you would be able to clasp your hands together.

“You left her high and dry after Moose had fallen into the depths of Hell, where, mind you, he’s been shacking it up with Lucifer. You should hear the agonies and woes from him.”

You could see the agitated twitch in Dean’s cheekbones, even in the poor excuse of light shining through the cracked window curtains.

“But now, back to the matter at hand, hmm?” Crowley snapped his fingers, and the two-night lamps turned on, casting the room in sudden brightness that none of you was prepared for.

“How’s Lisa and Ben?” Crowley smirked as Dean looked entirely uncomfortable at the jabs. “Didn’t want to be a family man anymore, huh? Did she decide she didn’t want your baggage?”

“It’s none of your business, Crowley,” Dean quipped. He snuck a look towards you and almost melted at the sight of tears in your eyelids. He wanted to erase the heartbreak he had caused you. He wanted to erase the pain away from you.

He only wanted you to forgive him. He wanted you and only you. He wished he hadn’t run off after Sam had gone to Hell, but he was broken and insecure. He was scared that you would leave him as well, so he did the only thing he could think of doing at the time: He ran away.

He begged for Lisa to forgive him, and she did. She took him in immediately, even after he explained all that went down with Lucifer and Adam and Sam. She took care of him. And for a while, he could forget all the pain. He could mourn the loss of his brother in peace. But there had always been a hole in his heart that Lisa nor ben would veer be able to fill.

He hadn’t known it at the time until he had sat up the night before and wallowed in misery after having nothing but dreams and nightmares about you for months.

“No harsh words, Not Moose?” Crowley taunted as he took a step toward you, causing Dean to nearly topple backwards onto the bed you were still sitting on. “No quips? Nothing? What do you have to say for yourself? Because while you were playing house, I was left to pick up the piece of her broken heart! How noble of you. Leave her behind to wallow in misery, and now what? You expect her to swoon because you're back? Pathetic."”

You never thought you would see the day when the king of hell would be red in the face at the Winchesters. But here he was, pointing a threatening finger in Dean’s direction while the other man looked like a kicked puppy.

You wanted Crowley to stop the insults at Dean. But the fact that he was protecting you in this way meant so much to you. You never knew how much Crowley actually cared about you.

"I bet she’s just thrilled to have you back. Nothing says 'I care' like a good old-fashioned abandonment, right?" Crowley scoffed.

“Crowley, enough,” you sighed as you finally pushed the duvet away from your body and stood up, causing Dean to look at you with hope. With your request, Crowley quieted down, though he didn’t cease the glare or scowl on his features. Ignoring him, you took a breath, taking Dean’s height in stride. “So, what? You show up at my doorstep and nearly scare me to death, for what?”

“I was wrong,” Dean swallowed, blinking slowly as tears piled against his eyelids. “I never should have left you the way i had. You were mourning Sam as well, and I was a coward for leaving you. I never once stopped thinking about you. I never once let you out of my mind. Lisa knew it, Ben knew it.’

“I’m not forgiving you, Dean.” you held your ground, even as you had to wipe the tears away from your cheeks. “How could I forgive you? Do you know what the hell I’ve been through? You weren’t the only one to lose a brother, you know? Sam was my family as well.”

He opened his mouth, only for you to cut him off.

“It’s been fourteen months, Dean—fourteen long, terrible months. I celebrated Sam’s birthday without you. I celebrated your birthday without you. Crowley was the only one to check with me. Do you know he saved me from death on numerous occasions? That could have been you.”

He looked utterly defeated at the mention of the birthday celebrations. He could only imagine you singing to yourself with some cheap cake and a gas station lighter, wishing for the family you once held as you blew out the candles.

“Dean, I don’t know whether to hit you, kiss you, or put a bullet in you.” you scowled, pushing past him to walk over to the bathroom to wash your face. Leaving the door open, you heard Dean shuffle around Crowley to get to you again.

“I can’t leave you, not again. Never again,” he watched your reflection as you grabbed for a hand towel and wiped the water from your face.

Glaring at him momentarily, you sighed heavily before turning around and leaning against the counter. “Crowley will kill me for this. But I can’t help but think that I’m still in love with you. We can talk more about this in the morning. I had a long few weeks, and I’m absolutely exhausted.”

Eagerly, Dean followed you out of the bathroom, barely noticing Crowley’s absence as he tucked you into the bed before he climbed in himself.

**totally up for a part three IF people want it. So please, please, please, if you enjoyed this reblog this & leave comments.

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wasteddmoondust · 8 months ago

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car mirror selfies || james potter

pairing: james potter x bestfriend's sister!reader 826 words, reader is sirius' little sister, secret relationship at the start, accidental announcement?????, suggestive joke towards the end. a/n: THIS CAME TO ME WHEN I SAW A TWEET BUT I LOST THE TWEET (also, not proofread pls be nice)

"When do you think we should tell them?"

You're with James. You're right next to him but you're also with him romantically.

It just sort of happened. One of those moments where you're hanging out and he just leans in and you also lean in and suddenly you're kissing. It's been very slow and sweet between the both of you since then.

As much as your now boyfriend would love to scream from the top of the hills about you, there's just one tiny problem.

"You want me, your girlfriend, to tell your best friend, my brother, that we are dating?"

"Well, Remus too-"

"Still! You see my point."

James lets out an exasperated sigh and shrugs. "We'll have to tell him eventually."

You bite the inside of your cheek. "I feel like at this point I rather him find out accidentally."

You should probably watch what you wish for.

It's Saturday afternoon, before your bi-weekly hangouts with your brother and his friends. Sirius had told you and James to meet at his car which was parked in the mall car park while he and Remus ran errands.

Five minutes pass by since the both of you arrive, and the other two are nowhere to be seen. It's not likely for them to be late, but you'd still let it slide.

"I wonder what's taking them so long..." you say. You decide to take out your lip gloss and reapply it, using the car's window as a mirror.

James smiles at you. He loves the way you concentrate and slowly apply it onto your lips and smack them together when you're done. He knows you'd kiss him on the cheek later and he'll keep the gloss stain on for as long as he could.

"Come here, babe," he says, using his arm to wrap around your neck as he pulls you closer to him. He pulls out his phone and aims the camera at the window. He starts to snap a photo.

"Cute," you say, smiling.

The both do a few poses. Smiles, sticking out tongues. You pucker your lips to pose, and James presses a kiss to his cheek and takes a photo of that, and you kiss his cheek back.

Just then, the car window slowly winds down.

"What the hell are you two doing?" Sirius asks, his brows furrowed and mouth agape.

You've never wanted to bury yourself underground so badly in your life until this moment.

The three of you are in silence for what felt like forever. James breaks it first.

"We were... taking selfies?" Wow. James, the love of your life, cannot even save his own life.

Sirius gets straight to the point. "How long has this been going on?" he asks.

You decide to speak this time. "Like... three weeks ago?"

He raises his brows, he looks curious now. "Before or after March 31st?"

"Before."

Sirius gasps, so loud that you and James flinch. He claps his hands, the sound echoing through the underground car park. "Remus owes me so much money!" he exclaims.

What?

"You bet on us?" you almost yell, once you realise what he said.

Sirius laughs. "On New Year's, Remus said he thought you two would get together by the end of the year. I knew better, you'd have it solved by March." He shrugs.

You scoff, "I can't believe this."

"Oh come on, I believed in you! You finally did something!"

James cuts in. "I made the first move," he announces confidently.

Sirius turns to look at him, his face now deadpan. "You're my best mate, James. But if you hurt my sister don't think I won't hunt you down."

James backs up suddenly, losing all said confidence. He mumbles an 'okay'.

You look at your brother. "You're not mad?"

"Why should I be? If anything, I rather have you be with James than some random git." The look on your face doesn't change much. He sighs. "You know what? Fine, I'm happy for both of you and I only want the best for you, blah blah blah. Are you happy now? Get in the car, and hold hands or whatever, I'm fine with it."

You and James look at each other. He smiles at you and shrugs, opening the door for you to enter. He gets in with you and doesn't hesitate to link his arm with yours, intertwining your fingers together. He squeezes your hand, and you know it's for reassurance.

Sirius happily sighs from the driver's seat, watching the two of you from the interior mirror. "Ah, young love," he says, crossing his arms.

"Please shut up, you're just a year older than me," you say. "I still can't believe you bet on us like that."

"Be happy for me! I'm now a whole one grand richer."

"You bet one thousand?!"

"Yes. But honestly? Remus can just repay me with some really good he-"

You kick the back of his seat.

a/n: i know it's not teacher and james but!!!! don't worry babes have this in the mean time, may this be the start of my motivation coming back. thank you guys! <3 likes and reblogs are appreciated

#marauders x reader #marauders imagine #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter imagine #zee writes

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matthewswifeyy · 30 days ago

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After awhile you went quiet, and I got mean

Summary: Exgirlfriend!reader lives with S4!rafe. She constantly has to watch rafe treat someone better and it finally gets to her.

Part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

(This is my first time writing sorry if it’s bad)

It’s been days. Days since he’s last talked to me. He used to tell me good morning every day but now he glances at me and walks away. I didn’t do anything. Or at least I don’t think I did.

Yesterday i saw them hugging in the bathroom before they left for the beach. I watched from down the hallway. But it was weird. He stared at me while he was hugging her.

My life’s been the worst since rafe and I broke up. Even though rafe is letting me stay at his new house it’s still been the worst. We were dating for years and then out of the blue he wanted to breakup. Since we’ve broken up my friend and family started to ignore me. And now rafe is ignoring me.

I started to realize that Sofia brings out a side of him that no one saw. Not even me.

When we dated it almost seemed like he would purposely avoid me. But with Sofia he would drop everything to be with her.

The words ‘hey baby’ pulled me from my thoughts. I watched as rafe walked into the kitchen and immediately hug and kiss Sofia.

I stared at them from across the counter. I didn’t know I was staring until I felt a tear roll down my cheek. I immediately got up from the chair and ran upstairs to my room.

I slammed the door and laid in my bed. I heard footsteps come quickly up the stairs and then my door opened.

“What the fuck is your problem” rafe said with an angry tone in his voice.

“Go away rafe” I told him as I turned away from him.

“Look at me Y/N. I’m not leaving until you tell me what your problem is. This attitude is about Sofia isn’t it?”

“Why do you make everything about her. She’s not the reason why rafe, it’s you”

“Oh it’s me? What if it’s you because you’ve always been a jealous little bit-” I cut his last word off with a hard smack to his face.

“Get out of my room rafe.” I said glaring at him.

“No”

“Rafe get out!” I screamed at him pointing to the door.

“You are not going to tell me what to do in my house, you understand that? You are lucky I don’t tell you to pack your shit right now.” He said grabbing my wrist.

“Let me go rafe” I said with an attitude.

He didn’t let go. He only tightened his grip on my wrist.

“Rafe let go you’re hurting me.” I said trying to pull my wrist away.

His eyes locked with mine

He let go and quickly walked out of my room.

Rafes pov

“Rafe stop you’re hurting me”

Those words repeated in my head as I walked down the stairs. I don’t know what happened. I haven’t acted like that towards anyone in forever.

It was something about the way she was looking at me. She looked scared. She hasn’t looked at me like since the whole Peterkin thing happened.

“Are you okay rafey” a sweet voice pulled me from my thoughts.

“Uh yeah. Just thinking” I said putting my hands on Sofia’s hips.

“About?” Sofia said putting her hands on shoulders.

“Stuff”

Sofia wasn’t the person I wanted to be taking to right now. I wanted to talk to Y/N.

After we broke up I never really checked up on her. After she said I always make everything about Sofia, I realized she was right.

I made everything about Sofia. I stopped talking to Y/N and put my full attention to Sofia. I didn’t care how Y/N was feeling at all after the break up.

I can’t even imagine what she was going through and I didn’t do anything about it. And now I just stopped talking to her.

What is wrong with me.

“Rafe did you hear what I said?” Sofia pulled me out of my thoughts again.

“Uh sorry I didn’t”

“It’s okay I was just wondering if we could go out to eat tonight?” She asked sweetly.

“Yeah that sounds good”

“Okay!” She said resting her head in my chest.

I felt a strange ache in my chest.

#rafe cameron #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe angst #obx season 4 #rafe and sofia #ex girlfriend #light angst

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rauspberries · 2 months ago

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Hard Day's Work

In which you decide to visit the firehouse for some help and end up walking out with a boyfriend... kind of.

Part two of What a Feeling, could be a stand-alone if you want.

evan buckley x fem!reader, fake dating (kinda), season one evan buckley, start of something new, evan buckley is a FLIRT WC: 2k+

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Can you mount a TV?”

You hadn’t expected Buck to say yes. You definitely hadn’t expected him to excitedly nod his head, handing over his phone for you to put your number in so that he could visit your apartment after shift. He had apologized profusely for not being able to do it right that moment, claiming that Captain Nash had already been getting on to him for disappearing during shift and he didn’t want to put himself in more hot water. Not even for his fake girlfriend, he had remarked with a playful smirk and a wink that had almost melted you into a puddle right then and there.

Now, you paced in your kitchen, thankful that you had cleaned the entire place before you had lumbered your way over to the 118. The last thing your racing, nervous heart needed was running around your apartment to quickly pick up the laundry you had scattered about and the dishes you had left in the sink.

The time between getting home and the end of Buck’s shift seemed like forever and even longer. You moved from the kitchen counter to your bathroom floor to the living room couch, doom-scrolling on your phone to try and distract your mind. You went from the opinion that this was stupid, you should text and cancel to the daydreaming of what this could become. A handsome firefighter in your apartment, doing housework that you needed…

It was a scene out of one of the romance novels you tended to read.

You were brought out of your dumb dream by a few, hestiant knocks on your door, immediately lifting your head. Your heart started thumping against your rib cage again, the same queasy waves of butterflies that had originally sprouted when you got home coming back in full force. Your hands shake as you wipe them on your jeans, getting off of the couch and making your way towards the door.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you run your fingers through your hair once more before pulling the door open, eyes widening as you come face-to-face with Buck’s fist. He had been in the midst of knocking again due to your hesitance to open the door, you notice.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I-I thought you maybe hadn’t heard my knocking, you know, since it was kinda quiet the first time. Uhm.” Buck clears his throat, a soft silence hanging in the air before he raises his arm, the toolbox in his hand clunking at the movement. “I brought my own tools. Didn’t know if you had your own or not. I had to stop by the hardware store for a few things, like a hammer, a drill… Well, honestly, all of it, but it’s okay.”

He winces at the way he had been rambling, his tongue suddenly feeling heavy in his mouth. He had talked too much. He tended to do that when he was nervous.

You let out a soft laugh, holding the door open a bit wider as you step to the side. You’re glad to see that this situation is just as awkward for him as it is for you. It makes your heartbeat a little bit slower. “Would you like to come in?”

Buck rolls his lips into his mouth to keep himself from speaking any more, nodding as he steps into your apartment. His cerulean eyes take a wide glance around everything, making you feel like you had just split your chest open and revealed everything to him.

You look around just as he does, wondering what he thinks when he sees your blue couch, so out of place against the white wall it sat against. You deliberate if he thinks the decorative pillows you’ve collected over the years are excessive, or if he’s internally laughing about the stuffed animals that perch in their own respective spots. You almost feel embarrassed by the posters on the wall, the memorabilia from posters and fake street signs covering every inch, until you realize that it’s just a great way for him to get to know you without going through all of the chitchat.

After his initial survey is over, he turns towards you, a ghost of a grin playing on his lips. “I’m assuming the TV you want put up is the one sitting on the box?”

A groan leaves your lips at the idea of how silly it looks, letting the ball of your hand rub into your eye. “That’s the one. And the only one, I promise. Living alone, I only need a TV in my living room, although it does end up with me sleeping on the couch more often than not.”

Buck’s chest rumbles with a low laugh as he steps forward, setting his toolbox on the ground and unlocking it. “It does look like a very comfortable couch. It has a lot of friends on it, too.” The tease falls off of his tongue effortlessly, his eyes finding your face to check and make sure it didn’t pinch a nerve.

Instead, you just laugh, shaking your head as you move into the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink? Don’t people usually give lemonade to construction workers?” You mumble out loud, opening your fridge and peering into it. Again, you’re grateful for your productivity earlier in the day as you eye the fullness of it.

Another chuckle comes from the man behind you, the sound of a drill whirring following. “Are you calling me a construction worker?” He jokes, the light-heartedness having eased the tension of a first meeting.

“Shut up,” you retort. Pulling the gallon of raspberry lemonade you had stored in the fridge, you pour it into two of your nicest glasses, shutting the cabinet quickly so that he couldn’t even attempt to get a glance at all of the funny cups you had collected.

You carry the glasses around the island just as Buck finishes drilling the mounting bracket into the wall, working a lot quicker than you thought he would. A pang of disappointment hits you directly in the chest at the idea of him leaving both your apartment and your life way too soon.

“Does this look right?” He asks, looking over at you questioningly before back at the mount. “Even? Is it where you want it? I can move it and fill in the holes with spackle if it’s not right, you just have to let me know.” The worry in his tone has you grinning, letting your mind wander to the incredulous idea that he wanted to come back and do more stuff for you, just to see you again.

Handing him his glass, you shake your head. “It looks fine, Buck. As long as I can see my TV from my couch, I really do not mind where it is,” you add. You look up at him with a smile, heart jolting as his lips pull into a handsome smile.

He breaks the eye contact he had with you as he steps towards the island, setting down his glass before rolling up his sleeve. You admire the tattoos among his forearms as he talks, only to shake your head when you realize you haven’t registered a single thing he said. “Huh?”

Buck laughs knowingly, shaking his head. “I said, will you help me lift? As much as I’d love to do it all by myself so you could sit yourself comfortably on the couch, I can’t hold the whole thing on my own.” He quirks a brow, watching you closely.

You nod dumbly as you set your drink down, rolling up the sleeves on your sweater. “I’m able to do some physical work by myself, I guess.” You groan playfully, crouching down to grab the bottom corner of your TV.

As soon as Buck has his hands on the other side, he counts down from three, both of you lifting until the back of the TV is aligned with the mount he had already drilled into the wall. You hold it silently as he secures it to the mount, only letting go once he gives you a soft nod.

Both of you step back as soon as you confirm that it's sturdy on the wall, hands on your hips as you take it in. Buck had gotten it right the first try. The TV was level, not even slightly dipping on the side, and it hung perfectly fine on her wall.

Turning to face him, you give him a grin. “We did it.”

“We? Are you sure?” Buck teases, crossing his arms over his chest. You swear he does it just to taunt you, your eyelids fluttering as you look down before immediately looking right back up at his eyes.

“I gave you the lemonade,” you retort playfully. You gesture at the cups on your island, brow quirking in a dare for him to challenge you.

He doesn’t, opting with giving you a playful roll of his eyes. Another soft silence falls over the both of you, neither one wanting to say the words that’d end your time together. It almost makes you want to start breaking stuff, just to ask him to fix it and stay a bit longer so you could pick his brain about everything that was Evan Buckley.

Buck breaks the silence with a slightly sheepish grin, shoving his hands in his pockets as he faces you. “I guess that’s it. Unless you have anything else you need help with.” The last bit comes out as a slight purr as he takes a step forward, invading your space as his cologne washes over you. It smells like man, all woodsy and absolutely alluring, especially when it's paired with the way he looks directly into your eyes, staring into your soul.

Unfortunately, you cannot come up with an excuse to keep him there. You shake your head in disappointment, a frown pulling at your lips. “I don’t think so.”

A soft hum of discontent leaves his lips as he somehow gets even closer, his chest just an inch from yours. “That’s a shame.”

“Why?” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own, the question meek in tone. Something about the way he loomed over you, all six foot two of him, was intimidating, but not in a way that scared you. It was exciting, it was fun. Directness from Buck was frightening, in a way that caused a shiver to travel up your spine. Goosebumps covered your arms so fast that you quickly moved to pull your sleeves back down.

You had never been one to flirt. Men usually came to you, even if they tended to be grimey and gross. Even with that, all it took was a good smile, a few well-timed words and boom. You had ‘em right where you wanted them. But with Buck, it was a game. It was equal attraction, not an ounce more on his side than on yours. It was a competition – who could break first.

His arm raised slowly, fingertips trailing along the back of your hand until he finally cradled your fingers in his palm. “I’d love to spend more time with you,” he admitted. The flirty tone in his voice has your chin tilting up towards him subconsciously, although you don’t have time to feel embarrassed about it. You notice that his own head is tilting down towards yours, his nose skirting against yours tauntingly. “I think I just thought of something you could fix. I can’t handle it myself.” You tease, your lips tilting up at the corners in a smile. He urges you on with a raise of his eyebrows, your smile turning into a pout. “My lips. They hurt.” You feel childish saying it, but you brush off the sheepishness as it works.

Buck chuckles quietly, raising his hand and sliding it along your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he cups the back of it. “I can fix that, I think.” His grip tightens as he angles your head back more, making it easy for him to press his lips against yours, dainty and gentle.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

#evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #x reader #fanfic #evan buckley fanfic #evan buckley fanfiction #eddie diaz x reader #fanfiction #911 #911 fanfic #911 fanfiction #evan buckley x fem!reader #eddie diaz x fem!reader

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sunfortune · 10 months ago

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hiiii i recently watched kanthony (the so called bridgerton show or whatever) and was wondering if u have any fic recs... 👉👈🤭

okay i litchrally have never compiled a list bc i have read too many to keep them organized. but ill do it. Finally. for YOU.

first. my fav period setting fics <33:

tete a tete by caciopepebowl (14k~) this is REQUIRED reading to ME. its a quick read that explores kate and anthonys roles in their family. with an emphasis on KATE specifically bc of the additional hurdles of being a woman with limited funds. and anthony losing his mind on her behalf while shes breaking his heart by being like "the way i was treated was normal?? you dont know anything" and hes like "what? kate you deserved everything. you deserve ALL the love in the world!!" and shes all ">:( well if i do. you do too." . and hes like "oh. well...no. you see.. bc i suck" and shes like -_-. its really sweeeeeet and lovely <3) and really finally gave me the exploring of kates family issues that THE SHOW DID NOT!!!

the longest betrothal by caciopepebowl. (90k~) my FAVVVVV regency setting fic. its sooo good. its basically a continuation that fills in the gap AFTER they get engaged but BEFORE theyre married. and them trying SO hard to be normal about how in love they are lol. SO funny and sweet. and with IMMACULATE characterization

in vino veritas by wagamiller. (~10k) a one shot about kate going to a ladies society event and coming home drunk to anthony and him being soooo smitten with her. sauuuur cute. ive read this like 4 times <3 its soooo good

for reasons wretched and divine by penny_loaf. (~18k. locked fic. need an account.) basically kate and anthony get stuck in a time loop on that first day edwina is receiving suiters. they both think theyre alone in the loop and its depressing until they realize the other is stuck with them too. they try to break the loop and fail repeatedly. after a while they just give up and start fucking bc theres no consequences so who cares LOL. surprisingly tender and sweet

the harsh light of day by burnerraccount. (~22k. locked) explicit one shot. kate has the idea that they should fuck before they get married so theres less pressure on the wedding night. she decides all this without mentioning it to anthony (LOL). so she shows up at his house the night before their wedding. and his footman is like "theres a woman outside to see you" and he in all his goofy almost-married bliss is like "i dont want to see Any woman but my gorgeous, beautiful, amazing WIFE" and his footman is like "well. you see.. it is your wife. uh fiance" and anthonys like "[voice crack] huh ?". very FUNNY

green in its many hues by burnerraccount. kate and anthony decide they are going to be chaste and proper leading up to their wedding. they suck at it SO bad lol

next. modern AUS my best friends <33:

la semi dolce vita by caciopepebowl (~170k) my FAVVVV modern au of ALL time. kate is a private chef. anthonys family hires her when they go on vacation. hes being so normal about it. i promise. this is one of the best characterizations of kate AND anthony in a modern setting. with an extra emphasis on focusing on kate issues. and not JUST anthonys. which is what makes the dynamic sooo good. 10/10. hot. and i love LOVE <3

close encounters of the acutest kind by caciopepebowl (WIP ~74k. only incomplete fic ill put on this list i PROMMY. bc its by the prev author. and i Looove their writing and its sooo good so far <3) kate and anthony meet for the first time the DAY her dad died which is also the SAME DAY hyacinth is born. theyre both having a panic attack and end up running into the same empty hospital room to have it. are then intrinsically linked forever. as one is. run into each other multiple times over the years. with different feelings each time. and they are so normal (lying) <3. i love them

chosen & cherished by trash4ficsaboutlurv. (~42k) this is so underrated. kate runs a charity organization. anthony is CEO of whatever the fuck. she goes to his company when theyre holding some audition for what charity theyre going to invest in and kate is the last speaker and when its finally her turn he barely even pays attention. and shes exhausted and overworked and just oveeeer it All. so she ends the meeting and tells him to go fuck himself. LOL. genuinely really good. and hot <3

sidelines by ramarro. (~60k) this was THE quintessential kanthony modern AU in 2022. kates an artist who sees a picture of anthony on tinder and thinks he looks obnoxious (lol) but screenshots the photo so she can use his arms/hands for sketching practice. and then she see him and his grown ass on a date with her BABY sister. and shes like well i was right about him. and lets him know to his face how she feels (LOL). its wild. it slays. read it. theres an explicit follow up to it which also slays

three cities and we never lived here by ramarro. (~25k, ~40k) very different modern au where kate and anthony meet on vacation and are very casual with them both not looking for anything (genuinely for once lol) and then seeing each other multiple times over 2-3 years in different cities and still keeping it casual. but slowly slowly slowlyyyy it doesnt feel as casual as it used to. theres 2 fics in this. the first is kates pov. the second is anthony. both very good.

just go with it by suitsusboth. (~18k) kate when booking a flight sees the potential titles like ms, mrs, dr, and "viscountess" listed as a legit option and has a laugh like whos picking this goofy shit and accidentally clicks it. and then on her flight gets upgraded to first class next to anthony bc they assumed she was his wife. and he tries to be mad about it. but well. hes stupid for her in every universe so lol. funny and sweet

the air i breathe and the bane of my existance by the_loosest_moose. (image fic) these are textfics told through instagram, twitter, article and text message screenshots. with some regular text. would just check them out to gauge how you feel about the storytelling method. very fun reads once you get the hang of it

heirlooms by waterlilyrose. (~12k) modern au where kate gets anthonys ring stuck on her finger for days and has to wait to get it off. he is of course very normal about it

a devils love by irony_rocks. (~57k) this may not be for everyone but kanthony season came out around the same time as The Batman (2022) and as someone who was crazy insane about both. this was the MOMENT for me in spring 2022. its a crime mafia type au where kates character is inspired by selina kyle and the pebble lounge she worked at in the batman movie. and well. if youre about that specific combo check it out. its not a batman au

break point (series) by penny_loaf. (multiple. ~25k) this a tennis au which you wouldnt think would be that deep but it is and its sooooo good. it really delves into the pressure of the world its set in on top of the issues kate and anthony ALREADY have. and as an ANGST and crazy, complicated characters STAN...very GORGEOUS to ME <3 and hot

take me home by kendal_lynne. (~12k) romcom type explicit one shot where kate makes the mistake of telling anthony her ex couldnt make her come. and hes all like i can do it volunteer as tribute PLEASE PKLEASE PLEASE PICK ME CHOOSE ME PLWASEE etc

we never made a sound by writergirl8. (~4k) spy au that was soooooo good and sexy. i wish it was longer

with elaichi by serendipityinwords (~6k) the two biggest bitches at a dinner party find out they're soulmates. LOL. hilarious dialogue

theres probably more i loved that im not remembering rn and maybe ill update this but for now have fun! yippee <3

#to everyone who doesnt gaf sorry for this long ass post #to everyone who does care this took 3 HOURS dont ever say i never did anything for youuuyuyu!!!#bridgerton #kanthony fic #kanthony fanfiction #kanthony #LONG POST #bridgerton*

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moonchildstyles · 9 months ago

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hiii i was wondering if you would write a blurb about vamp h taking care of a drunk y/n lol i think it’d be awfully cute omg or a girls night out (+ one vampire) and he’s like trailing after her trying to keep her out of trouble

wordcount: 3.9k+

—————

"Darling, are you certain you are not going to be cold?"

Twisting and turning in the mirror, her dress ruched over her body in tight folds, it took all of (Y/N)'s effort to keep her smile at bay. "I'm sure I'll be fine, H. It's not that cold out, and we won't be spending much time outside anyway."

It was clear he still wasn't pleased at her answer with the way he folded his arms across his chest and set his mouth in a grim line. (Y/N) had to bite back her smile lest he see her amusement from where he was leaning against the doorframe to her closet. He hadn't moved much from where he'd started the night watching her try on practically every outfit she had stuffed into both their wardrobe and closet.

She could feel his eyes on her as she smoothed her dress over her thighs, pulling down the hem another inch before ruching it back up. Counting down in her head, she had to keep herself from laughing when he followed the same pattern he'd curated for the past ten minutes.

"What if you fall ill? Or the weather changes while we're out? Y'could freeze before I have a chance to warm you."

This time, she couldn't stop the laugh from falling from her lips. She stopped her assessment in the mirror, turning to Harry with her amusement clear on her features and a cant of her head.

"H, c'mon."

His own expression tightened, his stubborn streak peeking out. "Come on, what?"

Stepping towards him on bare feet, (Y/N) peered up at him. "I know you think humans can't handle anything, but, honestly, do you really think it's that easy for me to get sick or freeze to death?"

They both knew well that Harry had done his share of research when it came to anything human. Especially after bonding and ensuring (Y/N) wanted to be at his side for their forever, he'd deep dived into anything and everything human to refresh his knowledge and become the most perfect beloved he could be—including knowing just how to take care of her. He knew better than to assume she would drop dead after a gust of wind.

Despite the stubborn line of his jaw, he relented, "No."

"Then, why are you so nervous about tonight?" she crooned, wrapping her arms around his middle with her chin set on his chest.

His palms ghosted down her back, leaving a chilled trail just barely felt through the fabric of her dress, until he stopped at the bottom of her spine. His touch was delicate. She could see the whole of him softening the longer she looked up at him.

"You know I worry about you," he murmured, "Anything is possible when it comes to humans. I dread testing the limits when it comes to you."

As much as she teased him and found his concern over something as simple as a breeze something to laugh over, the root of it all was something that had her softening. It was hard not to hear his words and grow tender.

"I promise I'm going to be okay, Harry," she told him, "I'm going to bring a jacket, and you're meeting us after dinner, anyway. If I feel like I need more than my jacket I can text you and let you know."

Though she knew he would never be one hundred percent pleased with her answer unless it was her layering up with all dangers padlocked away from her, this seemed to be enough for him as he sucked in an unnecessary breath.

"I suppose that will work," he sighed, overdramatic as always, "You are rather strong."

Stretching to the tips of her toes, (Y/N) pecked a quick kiss to the soft of Harry's lip. "I promise I'll be okay. Thank you for worrying about me, though."

He chased after her when she pulled away, craning his neck to steal one more kiss before she landed on the flat of her feet once more. "'S a privilege, m'love."

It was poetry like that that almost had her agreeing to wrap up in layers and layers complete with a shell of bubble wrap before she left the house.

—————

Harry couldn't keep the frown from his face as he parked across the street from the nightclub he was meeting (Y/N) and her friends at. He'd never been to an establishment like this before (minus blood clubs but that was an entirely different concept that appealed to his more baser needs, so it didn't count), and, judging by the specimens he could see pouring in and out, he would have liked to keep it that way.

But, this was where (Y/N) had asked him to meet her and there was no way he was going to let her down.

He was just going to have to hold his breath, he decided. Before setting foot inside, he was sure he would not be a fan of the scents perfuming the building.

It would only be a few hours, he reminded himself as he stepped out of his car. Hours like this were a minute compared to the eternity of his existence. He could handle tonight without a doubt.

The slight breeze in the air (he didn't even want to think about (Y/N)'s bare legs enduring this wind) pushed open the unbuttoned lapels of his shirt. He hadn't been sure what he should wear for the night, but he took some cues from (Y/N)'s dress and heels when he decided to pull a shimmering satin piece from the wardrobe and fitted black trousers. Looking at the young men walking in and stumbling out of the nightclub, he wondered if they were underdressed or if he was overdressed.

That concern didn't last long, though, pushed aside once he heard a familiar peal of laughter pouring out of the swinging door of the nightclub. What he was wearing was pushed to the back of his mind then, his priority shifting. He needed to get inside and ensure (Y/N) was alright just like she had promised.

Making it to the entrance of the nightclub, Harry was stopped by a man tucked away in a cubby by the door. He was dressed in all black, a bored expression on his face when Harry approached.

"Hey, how are you?" the man asked, barely looking at Harry as he spoke.

A furrow pinched Harry's brow. "I am well, thank you."

At his abrupt tone, the man finally chanced a look at Harry. He lingered for only a moment on his stern expression before seemingly shaking it off. "That's great, man. Can I see your ID?"

The man set his hand out, palm up in expectation. The knit in Harry's brows tightened that much more at the ask. This never happened at the blood clubs from what he could remember; why did it matter who he was before stepping inside?

Nonetheless, he pulled out the (forged) ID out of his wallet, passing it off to the man with a quick flash of his hand. The man barely glanced at the piece of plastic before he flicked his eyes back up to Harry with a slight smile curling his lips.

"So, you're Harry," the man pointed out, passing back Harry's ID.

Pocketing it, Harry wasn't sure what this man was trying to get at, but answered him nonetheless, "Yes. That's me. Why?"

The man shook his head, a small laugh falling from his lips before he stepped away from the door. "Nothing. Your girlfriend just made sure to let everyone know you were coming tonight. She'll be excited to see you."

Mumbling a thank you to the man, Harry stepped around him and entered the nightclub. While it was a sweet thought that (Y/N) had boasted about him to the nightclub staff, he wasn't sure why she would go through all of the trouble. It wasn't like her to bubble off to strangers.

The lights were off, leaving the bar lining the back of the space with only a dim glow for the tenders to work by. The main floor, full of people dancing (at least that's what he thought that was what they were doing. Harry couldn't be sure, and he truthfully didn't want to look close enough to find out) was the darkest space with only pumping strobes and multicolored spotlights to be the only guides. Here and there were tall tables stationed by the bar and rounded booths tucked into the walls, no seat left unclaimed despite the busy dance floor. Scanning his eyes over the packed bodies, Harry searched for a familiar dress or the peak of a familiar scent, hoping to find (Y/N) somewhere.

His hunt didn't take long, finding (Y/N) with a few other girls he was familiar with only through photos on the far edge of the dancing crowd. He was only able to catch a view of her profile, where she had a lazy smile on her lips and her lashes sitting half lidded over her eyes. There was a cup in her hand, the neon liquid almost empty between shards of ice, though she still managed to slosh it almost to the edge with every uncoordinated sway of her body.

Harry didn't waste any time before he was meandering his way through the throng of bodies, keeping his breath stilted so as to not bother his senses with the scent of so many others that were not his beloved. It was bad enough he felt the heat of their bodies and the unnecessary brushes against him, he didn't want anything more from him to invade his senses.

Just as he hit the edges of their little group, (Y/N) stumbled on her heels, her features falling. In a rush, Harry was at her side, saving her balance and settling her back on her feet. A bewildered expression crossed her face, one he was sure matched her friends who all had eyes on him as well. Though the second she recognized his chilled touch and the familiar hands wrapped around her arms, she loosened back into her oblivious state.

"Harry!" she cheered, completely forgetting about her almost finished drink when she twirled on her feet and threw her arms around his shoulders, "You're here!"

His bunched muscles finally relaxed, allowing him to reciprocate her hug. Dipping his head down, his cheek pressed to hers with his lips by her ear, he murmured, "'M here, love. Are y'alright?"

"Yeah, why?" she bubbled, seemingly having wiped the stumble right out of her mind already.

It didn't take Harry's extra senses to notice the vodka on her breath, though he was sure he was the only one that could notice the sharp edge added to her scent from the alcohol. With how saturated it was, she hadn't just started her night at the club. That would at least explain why she had made sure to alert the man out front that her boyfriend (a silly title, but cute nonetheless) was on his way.

"No reason," he smiled, dropping his hands to sit on her waist, "Are y'having fun?"

"I am! I'm so happy you're here now! I've been telling everyone that you were coming, and now you're here!"

The glaze over her eyes was enough to draw Harry in, his lips curling into an amused smile. He'd never seen her anything past a bit tipsy. Drunk (Y/N) was a person he'd never met before.

Before he had a chance to offer any kind of response, using a surprising amount of her strength given her state, she pulled him along before presenting him to her friends.

"Guys!" she bubbled, catching the attention of the rest of the women, "Look who's here!"

One of the women looked decidedly more sober than the rest, though Harry could smell a tint of alcohol on her as well. She was the first to step forward, giving a small smile.

"Harry, right?" she said, the ends of her short blonde hair dusting her collarbones, "(Y/N)'s been so excited to see you tonight."

"As I've learned," he laughed, offering a hand out for her to shake, "And you are?"

"Oh, I'm Charlotte! It's nice to meet you!"

At that, the surrounding group made their own introductions with (Y/N) clinging to his side. He dedicated each name to memory, hoping that would help him pass the test that he was surely going through that night. Meeting her friends had been foiled before with the changes in weather keeping him stuck inside, or his insistence that (Y/N) live her life outside of him lest she feel trapped in the manor at his side. Tonight had been the first time everything had fallen into place: a girls' night with an open invitation after dinner.

Shifting his arm around her shoulders, Harry pulled (Y/N) to his side as he guided her out of the way of those still dancing behind them. His features set pleasantly neutral, he looked towards Charlotte first.

"(Y/N) told me your significant others might also be joining us tonight," he drawled, his version of asking of their whereabouts as he seemed to be the only boyfriend having shown up so far.

"I'm not sure, actually," Charlotte mused, the evidence of her own drinking beginning to show. "I know my boyfriend will be here to pick me up later, but I haven't really heard anything about the other girls’. It might just be you, if that's okay."

Feeling eyes on him, Harry glanced down at his side to see (Y/N) still gazing up at him with a dreamy smile on her lips. He hoped he didn't come off as rude when the sight distracted him as Charlotte spoke, taking a beat to reciprocate her look and keep her snug to his side.

"I am okay with that. I hope 'm not intruding on your night then," Harry charmed, shooting his gaze around the room in search of a vacant booth or barstool, "Perhaps, I can find a free spot and let you all have fun without me interrupting."

"No," (Y/N) piped up, "You have to stay with us now! I don't want you to go."

Her words are slightly slurred but her passion was clear enough. He didn't bother to look at what the rest of the women had to say, only worrying about keeping the smile on his beloved face. "Okay, then I will stay, love. I will still try to find a table, though, so y'can sit with me for a little."

She was more than quelled by his answer, her body pliant against his own as if she were already ready for him to drag her wherever he wanted.

"I don't know if anything is going to be open," Charlotte interjected, having heard his proposal over the music, "I've been hoping someone would move, but they've all been taken since we got here."

"I'm sure I can make something work," Harry smiled, already spotting a booth he would prefer over the others, "We'll be right back."

As soon as Harry stepped out of the small circle formed by their group with (Y/N) on his arm, it was closed up once more, though he could feel eyes pasted to his back watching where they went. Aware of her stumbling steps at his side, Harry took it slow as he escorted her towards a booth situated in the back corner, just out of view of the others.

"I think people have—hic—they're already sitting there, H," (Y/N) murmured.

"'S alright," he answered, tightening his hold on her hand, "I think they're about to leave."

He didn't waste any time in reaching the group, a charming smile on his lips when he picked out the leader. An underdressed (in Harry's opinion) blonde man with a drink in hand seemed to be the center of attention, the first one to acknowledge Harry approaching.

Before he could utter any kind of greeting, Harry took over the situation. "Hello," he smiled, "M'girlfriend and her friends would like to sit here, please."

The man looked bewildered for a moment, unable to meet Harry's eyes. "Um—I'm sorry, but—"

"No need to be sorry," Harry cut him off, voice taking on a quality he didn't utilize very often, but this was a special occasion, "You can find another space. Right?"

As soon as the man met his eyes, Harry could tell the effects he wanted were taking place. It was all within the span of a heartbeat that this man took Harry's words as his own idea and nodded his head.

"Yeah, we can find another spot," he relented, a faux cheer to his voice as he beckoned his friends to follow him out, "C'mon, guys, let's try the bar."

There were a few questioning glances thrown to both the man as well as Harry, but no one questioned. Instead they only murmured amongst themselves as they followed their leader towards the bartop. As he led her into the now free vinyl seating, (Y/N) was one of the few that had a question in her eyes and pinch in her brows.

"How did you do that?" she asked, her voice low under the music but still audible to Harry's ears, "Is that a vampire thing?"

A breath of laughter fell from his lips at her words. "A little bit, yes. I don't like to do it often, but I want to make sure y'have somewhere to sit and relax while I get y'some water."

"You're getting me water?" she questioned, thoroughly distracted at his new offer as if she didn't have a cup of half melted ice in her hand.

"Mhm," he hummed, releasing her hand once she had tucked herself into the corner of the booth, "After I grab your friends, 'm getting y'some water before y'have any more fun."

With the way she was looking at him, he would have figured he had proposed and offered diamonds and jewels to her, and not just a glass of water from the bar. This night was already going better than he'd thought.

—————

"Did you guys know that Harry's a painter?! Like, he does huge murals and things all over the house! He's amazing."

Only Charlotte seemed to catch (Y/N) words—the same declaration she had cheered about only ten minutes prior. She and Harry exchanged a small glance while the rest of the table treated this as new information.

It'd been a long time since Harry had drank, and even longer since he'd been intoxicated to (Y/N)'s degree. Was short term memory something that was now lost when mixed with spirits, or was that just her?

"Do you really?!" one of (Y/N)'s friends (Cecilia, maybe?) bubbled, her cup of ice water cradled in her hands as she leant over the table with wide eyes, "What kind of stuff do you paint?"

"A little bit of everything," Harry answered, just as he had the last time a similar question was posed, "M'style has changed a lot over the last year or so. I can show you all some time if you'd like—'m sure (Y/N) would love to have you over to the manor."

Even Charlotte perked up at this offer, looking to (Y/N) for confirmation. "That would be so much fun, (Y/N)! We could do that the next time we get together!"

At that, Harry sat back while the chattering arose amongst the group. Under the table, his hand rested on (Y/N)'s thigh, the warmth of her skin anchoring him through the pumping music, strobing lights, and unfamiliar smells surrounding him. As much as he was aiming to leave a good first impression on her friends, he was still very much out of his element in the nightclub. He hoped (Y/N) would call for him to take her home sooner rather than later.

As if she knew he had her on his mind, (Y/N) leant into his side, looking up at him with a toothy grin and affectionate eyes. The chattering was going strong on the other side of the table, the conversation sounding as if the women were making plans for their next outing together—one that would take place at the manor with bottles of wine and movies.

"You'd really be alright with everyone coming over?" (Y/N) asked, moony eyes trained on his face.

"Of course," he answered, a smile landing on his face on instinct, "It is your home too, petal. Y'can have your friends over as well—'s not jus' Mitch and Niall that are allowed over."

She curled into his side, her thigh under the table practically draped over his own. "Do you think Sarah would want to hang out with us?"

The thought of Sarah playing around with a bunch of human girls was more amusing than he thought it would be. He wondered if that was how she and Mitch felt when they realized he was courting a human girl.

"She might," he told her, keeping his amusement to himself, "I can ask for you."

In an impossible feat, (Y/N) looked that much more in love with him at his offer. As much as he missed her regular scent without the sticky edge of alcohol, he did like just how tender she became—adoring his every and any move.

"That would be so nice, H. Thank you," she told him earnestly, her hand coming to rest on his middle with his shirt in her grip, "You're the best ever, you know that?"

"I have been told as much a few times." All by her, but that was a detail that he would leave out for the moment.

"Well," she pouted, "It's true. I'm so happy you came tonight. I think the girls really like you, too."

"Yeah?" he smiled, hoping it was more than just her drunken tongue making the claim.

"Mhm," she hummed, stretching to rest her head on his shoulder with a squeeze of her hand over his shoulder, "You're better than all of their boyfriends."

At that, Harry couldn't help but to release the laugh building in his chest. While he understood the sentiment, that wasn't quite the impact he was going for.

"You think so?" Harry questioned, unable to wipe his amusement from his voice.

(Y/N) didn't seem to notice—or, most likely, care—responding with a definitive nod. "I know so."

Another breathy laugh left his lips as he ducked his head, burying his nose in her hair. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Charlotte glancing their way; an adoring smile tugged at the corner of her mouth when she saw the way her friend clung to him.

Taking in a lungful of (Y/N)'s scent, Harry decided that nightclubs weren't so bad.

At least when (Y/N) was there.

“Wait, (Y/N),” Cecilia babbled, a look of urgency on her face, “You said he cooks, right? You cook right?”

Her attention was splashed over Harry then, forcing him to draw away from (Y/N)’s hair. Clearing his throat under the music, he nodded his head. “I do, yes.”

A squeal fell from her lips with her companions being just as excited. “Would you make us food when we come over? (Y/N) says you’re so good!”

Just as (Y/N) perked up at his side, turning her wide eyes on him, Harry stifled his own laugh. God, how he wished he had been a fly on the wall while she apparently spouted off all these facts about him—the ones reserved for her.

“If you’d like.”

Just as he expected, more noise erupted from the table.

—————

thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please send in any fun ideas or requests you have!!

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farfromstrange · 3 months ago

Text

Fictober Day 15: Mutual Masturbation

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Mutual Masturbation (✨)

Summary: Mutual masturbation. That's it.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), mutual masturbation, fingering, dirty talk, use of "good boy"

Word Count: 722

A/n: Matt's initials are MM, and so are the initials of this prompt.

Read Me On AO3! (Coming soon)

The air in the room is heavy.

Your labored breathing remains the only audible sound as you work your fingers against your swollen clit. You’re so wet, so desperate, chasing the pleasure coursing through your veins like a madwoman.

Matt looks ethereal like this, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, and with his hand wrapped around his achingly hard cock. He’s stroking himself to the rhythm of your racing heart, and you get lost in the vision of him.

There is no doubt that he is listening to the way your fingers spread the wetness all over your pussy. He hears the way your breath hitches when you tease your hole with the tip of your index finger, the way you moan when you circle that sensitive bundle of nerves he loves to wrap his lips around, and the way you spread your legs just a little further so he can smell the intoxicating scent of your arousal. You’re his drug.

His cock is thick, pink, and you almost start to salivate at the thought of putting him in your mouth. You watch his eyebrows crunch in pleasure as he speeds up just a little. What you would give to feel him inside you, but you have to be patient. You don’t often get to see him like this.

You’re the reason he gets out of bed every morning, and you are the reason his cock is hard enough to burst. He could come without touching himself. He could come to the mere sound of your breathy voice crying out his name into the dark room.

The things he does to you can’t possibly be healthy. The way he looks can’t possibly be human. But he’s here with you, spread out in bed, and you get to watch him come undone. It’s enough to make you moan a little louder, to grip the sheets, and to arch your back into your own hand.

“You look so pretty,” you pant. “Can't wait to feel you inside me. Fill me up with your cum. Make me–” you gasp, crooking your fingers toward the spot he once helped you find, “Fuck!”

Matt chokes on a groan. “Don’t stop,” he pleads.

You wonder what he means for a second, but then it dawns on you. Don’t stop talking. He wants you to keep serenading him with your voice's sweet, sweet melody He wants to feel you in his very bones until he can’t hold it anymore. Until he can’t help but to come, and to cry out your name in ecstasy. Until he’s a mess covered in cum that you have to pick up off the floor because he will have drowned in you.

You reach out to touch his sturdy thigh. “Wanna wrap my hand around your cock,” you continue. “Wanna feel how hard you are? Wanna take you into my mouth. Wanna suck until you come in my mouth like a good boy.”

His back arches off the bed.

“Such a good boy,” you say again, and he gives up.

With a cry of your name, Matt tumbles over the edge, his orgasm tearing through him like a tsunami. Cum spurts on his stomach, coating the faint hairs on his chest in his essence. You watch as he drives himself into overstimulation, not able to stop from coming and coming and coming.

The sight will stay forever ingrained in your mind. You watch him fall apart, and it sends you over the edge, too. Your walls shake around your fingers, his name a broken moan from your lips.

Time seems to slow to a crawl. Galaxies of stars explode in your line of vision. For a while, you simply float there, hearts beating in sync. You trace your fingers over the soft skin of his thigh, and his hand wraps around yours. He’s searching for something to hold onto just as much as you do.

“You okay?” you ask.

He nods, fingers tracing along the pulse point on your wrist. “I love you,” he says.

You move your quivering body closer to his. “I love you too.”

He’s warm, and he’s nowhere near strong enough to pull you in right now, but he feels like home. Because home is hardly ever a place, it is a person, and Matt is and will forever be your person.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @steve-chandler @lucienofthelakes @xnatyx @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @zomtart @ethereal-blaze

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock smut #daredevil #daredevil x reader #lizzi’s fictober 2024 #charlie cox

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bigtreefest · 3 months ago

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A Celebration Just For Us

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You want to celebrate Steve’s actual birthday, none of that 4th of July bs

Word count: 920

Content/warnings: essentially straight-up fluff, kissing, lotsa happy smiles, friend Bucky, time switching between past and present

A/N: This is thanks to the discussion of Steve’s actual birthday from @thezombieprostitute and @peyton-warren. I just love the thought of him having to keep it a secret because of a contract he signed a lifetime ago, only letting his closest family and friends in on it.

I’d love to hear what you think. More than happy to gush with you in response to comments, reblogs, or asks💗 thank you for reading

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

The lights were off and there were guards around the perimeter, ready to relocate any possible onlookers or overly curious paparazzi. Surely the abundance of cars parked outside the complex could’ve drawn attention, but no more than any other gathering, you were hoping. The curtains were drawn shut, tight as can be so no light could make it through, although there wasn’t much besides the flickering flames that lit up your face.

You were crouched over in the corner of the kitchen counter in your small apartment, further cozied by the dozen or so people who crammed into the small space, all here to celebrate your wonderful boyfriend, Steve Rogers as you used your lighter in a frenzy so the first candle wouldn’t melt before you finally reached the last one.

Once you first found out about it, you couldn’t help but bust out into laughter. Steve did his best to keep a straight face, telling you the story as you were leaning against him on the small couch in your apartment a few months after the two of you started dating.

“Steve, why? Just…why? Why did you agree, why did they make you do it in the first place?”

Steve let out a chuckle and threw his hands up in a shrug as he continued his explanation.

“It was in the contract! I just wanted to serve my country. I guess they thought it would drum up more patriotism? I had no problem faking it until the war was over, but I had no idea I’d be around this long. There’s no end to it. I’ve just gotta hide my real birthday from the public forever, however long that ends up being.”

You snuggled into his chest and giggled.

“Yeah, you have been around for awhile. But I’m so happy it led you here. Now you just get to have two celebrations. One that’s small and special, private, shared with friends, and the other that you share with the people.”

Steve smiled as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and squeezed around your waist, pulling you closer as you shuffled back into him.

“I’m gonna try and let it slide that you called me old because I love you, and I love the idea of my day being just for us.”

Bucky had come over earlier in the day to help you set up for the small party you were surprising Steve with. Tony and Nat had taken him out for a day in the city doing who knows what, but it gave the two of you plenty of time to decorate and prepare.

Just before guests started arriving, you were putting candles on the cake, only up to seventy-five.

“Buck, how the heck am I supposed to fit any more candles on this cake? I’m not even three-quarters of the way finished and I’m running out of room!”

Bucky looked over at you from his spot on the ladder where he was hanging streamers and smiled when he saw the cake. He was happy his friend had found someone amazing. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t get along with you almost as well as Steve. He’d become a good friend over the year or so you’d been dating.

“Um…put the candles closer together? It’s definitely gonna mess up that frosting you worked so hard on, but I guess that’s the cost of celebrating old men like us.”

You smiled and shrugged as you continued on. “Yeah, that’s what it’s looking like it’s gonna be. You think he’ll be okay with that?”

Bucky nodded. “More than okay. He’ll love it.”

The combined flame from the hundred or so candles smushed side-by-side was hot on your smiling cheeks as you walked towards the grin being mirrored on Steve. Everyone around you was singing as you set the cake down in front of him on the counter, watching him finally take a deep breath and blow out the mound of wax that sat atop a cake specially baked in his favorite flavor. There was no red, white, and blue. No patriotism in sight. Just the pure celebration of a man who affected all of you as a person. An individual with an amazing, beautiful, selfless personality, separate from what everyone else in the world saw him as.

Steve wrapped an arm around your hip as smoke faintly rose from the extinguished candle lump and pulled you tight to his side. Your hand went to his hair, idly stroking through it as the friends surrounding you cheered.

“Wish for anything good, Stevie?”

He titled his head up to look at you, beaming with love and satisfaction.

“I know I’ll get made fun of for saying I have everything I could ever want right here, so yes. But I will also say, it’s not that far off.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him. He always knew just what to say. You leaned down to give him a peck before you heard a groan from behind you. It was Tony.

“Okay, love birds. We get it. Happy secret birthday, Rogers. Now hurry up and get your thousand candles outta here. It’s time for cake!”

You helped Steve to pull the candles off the cake, holding one out here and there for him to lick the frosting off. He hummed at the flavor, happy you knew him so well and that he knew there were many more special celebrations, just like this, to come.

Bonus A/N: hehehe, happy birthday Steve. Let the man be happy in the modern day. Cake actually sounds so good rn

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @mercurial-chuckles

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revelboo · 23 days ago

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you absolutely dont have to because you have A Lot of bots on your radar already; BUT... could we maybe get some tfa bulkhead crumbs?? if youre up for it? literally anything, hes so tooth achingly sweet and all around wonderful and lovely. him and tfa bee were my first favorites/introduction to transformers years ago when the show first aired and i started watching tfa again this year and its easily been one of the best choices ive made this year ghsjdkmgds-

I need to rewatch some of the older TF shows. It’s been forever since I watched TFA

Time Turned Fragile

TFA Bulkhead x Reader

• “Hi.” Lifting a hand in greeting and then immediately lifting the other, palm out as the human at the door to the derelict building freezes, eyes widening. “No, wait. Don’t scream. Please. That’s my ad.” Pointing at the scrap of paper in your hands. And you look down at it and back up at him. Still just staring at him, mouth open. Not screaming yet, though. That’s promising. “You’re here for the job, right?”

• Just run. Just go and pretend this never happened. You want to so badly as you stare up at the green behemoth. Because no amount of money is worth whatever this nonsense is. “I don’t know how to take care of one of you,” you manage, voice wobbling slightly on the verge of hysteria. Crushing the ad in your hands a bit as you retreat a step. It had said ‘caretaker needed for young child.’ And the doodles on it were what had drawn your eye. Cute little crayon scribbles that you’d assumed had been done by the kid in question.

• “No. No, Sari’s human not a sparkling.” Primus, you’re small. Bigger than Sari, but still so little compared to them. You look like you’d break if he touched you. Carefully going down on a knee so he’s not looming as much, because short of lying on the ground, he’s still looming, he tries to think of the words that will make you stay. “We’re taking care of her, but the whole human food thing? We, I, need help. Please?”

• They have a human kid here? Whatever the jolly green giant is, he’d said we. Like there’s more of them. With a kid. Had they kidnapped them? Are they in danger? You can’t run now, no matter how much you want to. Not until you grab the kid, then you can book it. “Show me.” Forcing a strained smile as the giant stands and you shiver at how big he is.

• “Yeah? I’m mean, okay. Sure,” he says, grinning. Because despite their best efforts, he’s not sure how good a job they’re doing caring for Sari. Mostly because they’re taking her advice about it, and they just don’t know. Ratchet had already expressed doubts about her insistence that candy is a perfectly healthy breakfast, suspecting that might not be exactly true. Gesturing for you to come in, he lurches back and out of the way, trying not to crowd you. Aware of the tense set to your shoulders as you step inside and look around. Knows the place is a bit spare, but they’d tried their best to make it inviting and comfortable. But under your scrutiny, he’s almost certain you find it lacking.

#transformers x reader #bulkhead x reader #tfa bulkhead

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muniimyg · 1 year ago

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4.5: say it 》 series m.list

note: some feelings, some banter,, some smut at the beginning of the 3rd scene <3 have fun,, enj !!! do we like yuna and tae? vibes on... the jealousy? lmk what u guys think !!!mwah <3 updating sooon

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @prdshobi @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main

fic taglist: @mint--yoongs @ellesalazar @bloopkook

Soccer was something Jungkook was known for on campus.

It never occurred to you just how well-known he was until now… Yet, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Jungkook had quit the team out of boredom and curiosity only to be begged back in as if he’s their ace.

Okay, fine.

… He probably is the ace.

Jungkook comes off as too perfect. It’s quite irritating, actually. He has decent grades, a fun friend group, and a well-balanced lifestyle. You can’t help but hate that being a part of his routine for the past few weeks has you in this emotional state: needy.

You’ve never felt this way before.

Before the arrangement between you and Jungkook was made, you two barely saw each other. His life consisted of school, soccer, and friends. You only ran into him at parties or friendgroup outings. Having one class with him every other semester has to be the closest you two have ever been.

You’ve never missed anyone before and although there’s an underlying warm feeling—your feelings of frustration and annoyance have never been stronger. His absence may have gotten your heart to grow fonder of him—but your anger and resistance to him continue to linger.

It’s almost like a haunting feeling.

As much as you want to carry on with your day and act like you aren’t waiting for his clingy text messages; you can’t help but itch and wonder what he’s doing and who he’s with. Though his text messages yesterday provided you with some sort of comfort and assurance, you can’t help but feel uneasy about all of this.

About him.

“Earth to ____?” Yuna waves her hands in front of your face. Snapping out of your thoughts, you offer her a warm smile. “Geez, you’re so out of it these days… Are you feeling sick?”

You shake your head.

For a moment there, you were so lost in thought you forgot where you were. For a brief moment, you look out the window and notice the gloomy clouds before turning back to your space. The library is fuller than usual and Yuna is sitting in front of you with her laptop and notebook. She’s been talking for the past 20 minutes about…

Something.

You can’t recall.

Maybe you should start listening to her more… You’re truly the worst friend ever.

“You look worried… Do you have an exam you didn’t study for or something?” Again, you shake your head in response. Yuna hums as she taps her fingers on her chin. Thinking to herself, she creates a solution.

“Do you wanna come with me and see Taehyung?”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Why would I want to see Taehyung?”

She shrugs, putting her hands up in defeat. “…. Was just suggesting.”

Leaning towards her, you cheekily ask; “fess up. Do you have feelings for him?”

A gasp escapes her lips as she covers her mouth with her hands. Yuna furrows her eyebrows together and looks at you in panic. “Is the ____ interested in my love life? For the first time in forever? When did you get a nose job? You’re so nosy!”

You cover your nose and glare at her.

“Shut up! Jungkook just mentioned that—”

“Jungkook, huh?” Yuna switches her hand placement immediately. She leans forward to you, putting her elbows on the table, and rests her chin on the palm of her hands. “What’s up with you two? I must’ve been wasted as hell that night at karaoke because if what I saw was true… Boy, do you owe me a girls night…”

Gulping, you keep your chin high. “What do you mean? What did you see that night?”

“He’s into you.”

“Jungkook is into everyone—”

“Yeah, right!” Yuna disagrees passionately, earning a few hushes from other students nearby. In a whispering tone, she continues. “Jungkook barely pays attention to the guys—his own friends! He does what he wants, shows up when he wants, eats what he wants and maintains his slutty figure, and parties when and with who he wants—I think… He wants you. He kept giving you fuck me eyes all night… And you! Don’t act all innocent. I saw you sulking like a little bitch! Which.. Is new? I’ve never seen you clingy before… Not with any of your exes... Not even with me."

You roll your eyes at her. Though her words rang true, you refuse to yield. If Yuna, the densest human in the world, can figure you out... You're fucked.

“You’re right.”

Yuna’s eyes light up. “Really?”

“You were sooo wasted that night.”

After a few hours of studying, you and Yuna pack your things up. She practically begs you to come with her as she meets up with Taehyung. In all honesty, it didn’t take much convincing. For some reason, you say yes with the tiniest bit of hope that Jungkook would be with him.

Although, you don’t ask.

Hurrying out of the library, Yuna instantly spots Taehyung. With a toothy smile, he waves and picks up his pace. He greets Yuna with a pat on her head and you by nudging your arm.

“Where’s Jungkook?”

Shrugging, you look around as if you could spot Jungkook. Shyly, you answer, “thought he was with you.”

“He came home late yesterday…” Taehyung says as if it mattered for you to know. “I assumed he was with you.”

In response, you shake your head at him. “Nope. I haven’t seen him in a while… Last time was when we got coffee—”

You wince at the memory.

“You okay?” Yuna’s face falls concerned. Taehyung looks at you rather confused. She hits his arm and confides in him. “See what I mean? She’s been like this all day.”

Taehyung tightens his lips as he gives your odd behaviour some thought. “Maybe she’s sleep-deprived. Are you sleepy, ___? You look a little tired.”

“Maybe the break-up is finally hitting her. Do you miss him, ___? Is that it?” Yuna suggests rather passionately. “You know, I miss him! He was a good boyfriend and you seemed happy—”

You huff, feeling defeated. “I’m just tired. I guess I’m more tired than I realize. I think I should just head home… I’ll catch up with you guys next time.”

Yuna shoves Taehyung away and pulls you in a hug. She sways you two side to side and cries; “my poor baby, ____! Feel better, okay?”

Laughing, you ask Taehyung to help you peel your best friend off of you. When Yuna lets go and gives you space, her eyes suddenly squint as if she has just seen something unpeculiar. Then, she rubs her eyes to be sure.

“Is that Jungkook?”

You turn your head and feel your heart clench.

It feels conflicted.

Yes, that was Jungkook.

… But with whom?

Before you can escape or avoid eye contact with him, Taehyung has already waved them over. Jungkook nods, acknowledging you all. He crosses the street and you turn around, keeping your head low. You do this because for some reason you feel all shy… Like you didn’t just have sex with him a week ago—in front of a mirror.

“Whose that?” Yuna asks, disregarding the fact that the two were practically a three feet away.

“Who knows,” Taehyung scoffs. “Secret girlfriend? Sneaky link? Who knows with that kid.”

Yuna gasps. “No way! I thought he was into ___—”

“Hey,” Jungkook greets brightly. Taehyung and Yuna greet him with the same energy. He offers a big smile as he stands beside you and pinches your waist. You itch away and avoid eye contact. From the corner of his eye, he catches your behaviour and feels confused.

In a low tone, only loud enough for you to hear; he mutters, “Don’t ignore me. That’s fucking annoying.”

You don’t move. Still, you ignore his seductive words.

He tilts his head at you but figures you’re just in a mood. Shifting his focus, Jungkook breaks the ice. “Where you guys going?”

“I just met up with them like a few minutes ago,” Taehyung explains. “We were gonna grab dinner but I think—”

“Hi, I’m Yuna!” your best friend interrupts Taehyung. She stretches her hand out for the girl to shake. She takes Yuna’s hand and shakes it. “This is Taehyung and my best friend ___!”

You raise your head and offer a short-lived smile. A simple, “hi,” is all you manage to choke out.

Mina has short brown hair and pretty eyes. She’s a little shorter than you and has Jungkook’s towel hanging on her arm.

You feel sick.

“Nice to meet you guys! I’m Mina, Jungkook’s friend…” she pauses and lets out a shy laugh. “Actually, I’m more of his fan than I am his friend.”

Like a groupie? Ew.

Jungkook joins her and laughs. “She usually sits around with her friends on bleachers and watches our practices. We’ve been catching up since I got back in with the team. We were going to get dinner too.”

Taehyung and Yuna nod, taking in the information. “Well, do you want to join us?” Yuna suggests. “___ isn’t feeling well so she was going to go home. It’d be nice to have better company! ___’s been so out of it today—”

You shush her.

“You okay?” Jungkook brings his attention to you.

It feels like you’ve just been kicked in the stomach. When did Jungkook’s gaze ever feel this… weird? It’s difficult to describe but it’s like you’re nervous or something. All you can really do is nod in response.

“I’m okay,” you assure him.

“You sure?” he presses, taking a step closer to you.

He’s much closer to you this time and your body betrays you by staying still. You don’t move. You don’t even flinch. If anything, you take a deep breath and inhale his scent. It’s comforting after all the days you’ve spent away from him. From the corner of your eye, you can see Yuna begin to get excited to be witnessing this moment. When you can sense that she’s about to explode in best friend behaviour, you make your move.

“Can I talk to you?” you blurt. “Please? It’s about that thing…”

Jungkook blinks.

“Sure,” he doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. Text me the address. I’ll just drive ___ home so we can talk.”

You're thankful he says this. You're thankful he goes along with your request without question. For a second there, you weren't sure if he was on your side.

Rather, you worried if he liked you enough to choose you regardless of the mix-signals and thus far constipated interaction.

Mina offers a warm smile in return, but you can’t help but notice the disappointment in her eyes as Jungkook takes your tote bag off of your shoulder and carries it. He assures Mina that he’s leaving her in great hands and that he’ll be there no later than 30 minutes.

“I parked my car that way,” Jungkook points towards the end of the street. “Let’s go?”

“Yeah,” you almost stutter. “I’ll see you guys next time. Nice to meet you, Mina.”

“You too! Feel better,” she says sincerely. “See you in a bit, Jungkook?”

“See you in a bit,” he promises. Mina takes his word for it.

Jungkook bids his last goodbye before grabbing your wrist and practically dragging you to leave. As he does so, you watch Mina, Taehyung, and Yuna wave you two goodbye. Even a few feet apart, you can practically hear Yuna begin her gossip session.

“See? He’s so into her!”

Unlike last time, there was no issue.

Oh, it was up.

Jungkook hisses at your touch.

As you take his cock out, you run your thumb across the tip. You pump him, feeling his velvety skin follow the way you move your wrist. He’s thick—practically two hands on deck kind of thick. In fact, he looks even bigger in your hands. Maybe it’s the LED lights in his car or the fact that he hasn’t cum since your last meet-up—but he was bigger than usual today. If anything, it made you drool.

Dipping your head low, you stick your tongue out and move his cock with your hands. You slap it against your needy tongue before closing your mouth and sucking on it.

Bobbing your head, Jungkook can’t resist. He grabs a fistful of your hair and begins to push your head up and down. He holds your head close, making sure his dick touched the back of your throat. You gag and he takes that as a sign to let go. Pulling away, you take a quick breath in before puckering your lips at him.

He shifts from his laid-back position and leans forward. Jungkook wraps his hand around your neck and brushes his thumb against your puffy lips.

“You know how I like it,” he utters. “Missed this fucking mouth. Begging for kisses?”

With hopeful eyes, you nod.

“Anything my girl wants,” Jungkook leans in and kisses you slowly. He pulls away after just three kisses. “... My girl gets.”

“Kiss me lots,” you whine.

Jungkook’s stomach turns. If it could do flips, that’s what it does. He would be an idiot not to know why you were acting this way… Yet, he still wanted to have fun.

“Make me cum and I’ll kiss you all you want.”

With that, you get back to it.

You spit on his dick as you pump him at a slow pace. His hands travel to your shirt, pulling at the neckline to see your cleavage. You let go of him to lift your arms. Without hesitation, Jungkook helps remove your shirt and admires your breasts in a plain black bra.

Suddenly, you shift your position. The passenger seat is extremely uncomfortable considering you’re giving him head… But this part must be the hardest part. You lean your body towards him more, prioritizing your breasts. Somehow, you manage to bend a certain way and slip his dick in between your tits.

“Holy shit—” Jungkook cries as he begins to lose it.

You bite your lip, trying your best to make this work. You hold your breasts closer together as he begins to pump himself. Every time Jungkook lifts his hips to dig himself deeper in, you can’t help but like the way the head pops up.

It’s almost cute.

The position doesn’t last very long. You begin to cramp and Jungkook misses your mouth. So, you switch back to giving him a blow job. Then, that doesn’t last very long because Jungkook can’t do it anymore—he can’t hold it in. His breath hitches as you suck his dick. He throws his head back and hisses your name.

“___,” he cries, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Then, he cums.

He spills himself into your mouth and you swallow. As he empties himself, you take it upon yourself to lick his dick clean. Today, his cum tasted sweeter than usual. You wonder if his diet changed or if you just haven’t tasted him in a while.

Jungkook stares in amazement as you finish him off. He can’t help but let his mind spin as his body tingles from the sensation you caused. When you finish, you straighten yourself out and he hands you your shirt. Putting it on, you sit yourself back properly in the passenger seat and sigh in relief. Jungkook tucks himself back in.

“Good talk,” you joke, attempting to lighten the mood.

Oddly enough, you feel awkward. What were you supposed to do now? After you two got into his car, it didn’t take much time before you threw yourself at him. Happily, he received your kisses and took it upon himself to drive towards his place. Parked outside his home, the coast was clear. You gave him head and now you feel stuck.

Jungkook notices the panic in your eyes and reaches his hand out. He places them on your upper thigh, causing you to look at him.

“What’s up with you?” Jungkook can’t help but ask. “You miss me too much?”

You scoff, “as if.”

He laughs, moving closer to you. Jungkook rubs your thighs innocently and squeezes it. It’s comforting for some reason… You like the way he touches you.

“Spit it out, pookie.”

You shrug. “Nothing. Just wanted to give you head. You can take me home now.”

“Ha!” Jungkook taunts you. He then removes his hand from your thigh and reaches for his phone on the dashboard. Looking at the time, his eyes widen.

“Shit!”

“What?”

“It’s been an hour? Mina called me like five times. I’m late—no, I missed it.”

Giving him head didn’t take an entire hour.. No, it was the flirting and the clingy talk that took majority of the time. Convincing him to let you give him head? That wasn’t even a conversation that needed to be done. It was always yes for you. So, you took your time.

Flirting.

Kissing.

And giving him a sloppy blowjob that completed the 1 hour mark of stalling.

Your lips curve into a small smile. Looking away, you feel a sense of relief. You aren’t proud of yourself but… This was something you could live with. As you stay silent, you think of what you could possibly say in this situation without coming off suspicious.

But, your silence lasts a second too long.

“Wild guess but… Did you give me head so I’d miss the dinner?” Jungkook theorizes.

You turn to him, eyebrows knitted together and your head slightly tilted to look confused. “Are you blaming me for missing the dinner?”

“Are you gaslighting me?”

You’re tongue-tied. For the first time in forever, you have no come back. Your brain can’t think of any words. Slowly and then all at once, you felt like a stupid idiot sitting in his car. Had you gone too far? You’ve never seen yourself act upon jealousy like this… You have no excuse. You have no explanation. You don’t feel like yourself.

“Mina’s pretty. Is she your type?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer your question. Partly because he didn’t want to entertain whatever you had stirring up in your mind and partly because he didn’t want to feed tour ego.

“___? What’s up with you?”

“I don’t know.”

He sighs, not knowing whether he finds this irritating or cute. Why would you sabotage something so meaningless? Dinner with friends? It’s not like you weren’t invited either… His thoughts lead him to one question: “I think you’re acting jealous. Are you jealous?”

Unsure of what to do, you decide to give up. “Are you going to be mad at me if I admit that I am?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is this you admitting that you are?”

You reply in silence.

“___?”

“Give me a fucking minute, okay? I’m trying to figure out if I should lie or not,” you groan. Taking a moment, you look into his eyes. “Am I supposed to lie, Jungkook?”

Now, he feels choked. “Maybe.”

You blink at him.

Before you can stop yourself from the words that have been spiraling through your head all day—you confess softly; “I’m jealous.”

His head begins to spin. Is this what post-orgasm depression is? The pit of his stomach feels weird…

Taking a deep breath, you shift your body to face him as best as you can. Fidgeting with your fingers, you push yourself to admit the ugly truth: “I don’t think I can lie about it… Jungkook, I don’t like it. I don’t like seeing you with other girls and I’m annoyed you have a little fan club. So, yeah. I sucked your dick so you’d miss your little date. I’m sorry, it was selfish of me… So, go catch up with her if you want…. I was out of place. I don’t care anymore—”

“Yes you do,” he cuts you off.

You gulp, noticing the way his eyes have lit up.

“Say it,” Jungkook insists. “Say it and I won’t go.”

With shifty eyes, you ask, “really?”

In all honesty, he wasn’t looking for a specific word or phrase. He just wanted you to say it. Say something. Make this fuck session mean something.

Jungkook breathes, “I’m all yours if you want me to be.”

“Yikes…”

He shoots you a glare. You’ve ruined the moment.

Jungkook reaches over and unlocks your door. “Fine. I gotta get going. You can walk home from here, right? Mina won’t mind me being a little late—”

You hit his chest with an annoyed look on your face.

He smirks, “say it.”

“Jungkook,” you begin. “Don’t make me feel this way, okay? The second you continue this vibe, I’m going to expect more from you and that’s not what we—”

“Then expect more,” Jungkook scoffs. “It’s simple, ____. If you’re jealous, tell me. If you like me, tell me. If you hate this and want out—give me at least two weeks’ notice so I can emotionally prepare.”

A part of your heart feels like it’s being tugged. Was he always this good with words? For some reason, you find it humorous. “You bring up confessing a lot… Are you trying to tell me something, pookie?”

“Please,” Jungkook laughs. “I’m not here to play stupid games and win stupid prizes. I’m not confessing until I have you absolutely in love with me… Pookie, this jealousy thing? It’s just the start. Just a little longer and you’ll be standing outside my window in the pouring rain, begging for me.”

In response, you make a puking face at him. “Shut up. The minute you get jealous, I’ll make you eat your words.”

He leans in and puckers his lips. “Why waste your time getting me to eat my own words when I can eat something else?”

You cup his face and squish his lips together. Pressing your lips against his, you pull away quickly with a cheeky smile. “Keep entertaining your little fan club and you’ll be eating nothing.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “It’s not my fault they watch while we practice—”

“Jungkook.”

“What?”

“Shut up.”

He does just that.

Jungkook buckles your seatbelt and then his. Turning on the engine, he pulls out of his driveway and begins to drive you home. It’s a short 15 minute ride, but it’s filled with your rambling and constant shuffling of songs in his playlist.

As he stays silent, half-assed listening to you; he soaks in your presence and can’t find a single fibre in his body to be mad at you. He knows that what you did tonight was unacceptable. You had caused Mina to look like she got stood up and jeopardized a perfectly peaceful night by earning him a place on Taehyung’s hot seat of questions later tonight… But it’s okay.

With the smile on your face and the way you hesitate to reach for his hand as he drives; he can’t but help to feel like it’s worth it. Your hand will take his without a second thought one day. One day, you’ll be a part of the little fan club you hate so much. One day, it’ll work out because it has to.

If he never goes through these exact moments with you, maybe he wouldn’t have known his feelings for you… But, he does and it’s so clear to him.

Jungkook will wait for you.

#jungkook smut #jungkook fwb #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts scenario #bts jk fic #bts smau #bts imagine

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 11 months ago

Text

illicit affairs

Summary: Stranded in an airport hotel because of hurricane warning, you snatch the last hotel room for the following two nights, not knowing that these two nights would change your life forever. You meet Joel and spend every moment you can with him until he leaves you in the middle of the night the day you both had to go back home. Months later, heartbroken and pregnant from a man you hadn’t even exchanged last names with, you go back to your hometown to meet your mother’s new boyfriend, not knowing it’s Joel.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader // Joel Miller x fem. readers mother

Wordcount: 6.7k

Rating: E

Warnings: no outbreak AU, meet cute, age gap (around twenty years, but it’s not specified) flirting, kissing, smut (oral f receiving, protected sex, unprotected sex, so much sex) accidental pregnancy, angst, vomiting, fluff, heartbreak

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this fic that turned into a little beast

illicit affairs master list // Pedro Masterlist

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You weren’t particularly looking forward to the next three days.

Not that you didn’t love your mother. You were happy for her. After your father died almost eight years ago she deserved to be happy again. To be loved by someone.

You just had a weird feeling about this trip, and you couldn’t say exactly why.

You had moved back to Austin for a couple of months after your father died. You had been between jobs and while you did not particularly enjoy the summer heat of Texas, or living in your childhood room, you were glad you had been there for your mother.

You only took the job that had been offered you in Seattle because she told you that it was time. That she was okay. That it was time to live your life. You only left because you knew your brother Sean was moving back to Austin to start his new job in the weeks after you left.

„Have you met her new man yet?“ You asked Sean as you sat in the passenger seat of his car.

Thankfully he had offered his guest bedroom for your three day stay. Not that you wouldn’t like staying with your mom, but you were pretty sure you could not hide the fact that you had gotten pregnant from a stranger four months ago from her, when you would be staying with her 24/7.

Your brother was a bit more… oblivious.

You weren’t showing yet, and even though you knew you had to tell your family at some point, you weren’t ready to do it right now.

You wondered when you were ready to tell them, but that was a problem for next week you, who could lock herself into her apartment back home in Seattle.

Of course you knew this wouldn’t just go away, but additionally to the fact that you had gotten pregnant, you had no way of contacting the father, leaving you as a single mom.

You only knew his first name. You didn’t get a chance to learn more about him.

You closed your eyes, letting your head fall against the window of Sean’s car.

„I haven’t met him. I only know he has a Construction company with his brother. That’s how mom and him met,“ he said. You nodded.

„She seems happy. I hope he’s nice,“ you sighed.

„What about you? Someone in your life I need to have a big brother talk with?“ He asked and you scoffed.

„I found out that all men are assholes,“ you rolled your eyes and Sean laughed.

„Could have told you that before,“ he grinned and you punched his arm and he winced with a dramatic ouch.

„Anyway. No men. Might get a cat,“ and a baby you added in your head.

„I’m allergic to cats,“ he reminded you.

„Remind me how that is my problem?“

It was a nice neighbourhood Sean drove his car through, looking for the address your mother gave you. It was a typical suburban neighbourhood.

Kids playing on the front lawn.

A men washing his car.

Women who took care of the little garden that wasn’t burnt by the sun yet.

Fuck, you forgot how hot Texas was during the summer.

„Here we are,“ Sean hummed and you followed his gaze as he parked the car in the driveway of a two story home behind a black pick up truck. Your mothers Honda was standing parked next to it.

You gave yourself a moment to gather your thoughts while you looked at the house.

It was a nice house. You could see that someone was keeping it maintained and loved. There was a big tree with a swing outside and you wondered if the man had kids too. Before you could look closer at the house the front door opened and your mother stepped out, a big smile on her face.

„Here goes nothing,“ Sean said and you shook your head with a small smile before you opened the door.

Arms were wrapped around you almost the moment you stepped out of the car, your mother pulling you in a tight hug.

„My baby,“ she whispered against your ear and you smiled, wrapping your arms around her.

„Hi mom,“ you said, suddenly overwhelmed by your emotions as you fought down the tears. She kissed your cheek before she looked at you with a warm smile.

„I missed you,“ she said.

„Missed you too,“ you mumbled and she squeezed you softly.

„What about me?“ Sean interrupted and you rolled your eyes.

„What about you?“ Your mother asked with a grin.

„Didn’t you miss your son?“ He poured and you shook your head with a laugh.

„I saw you yesterday. I brought you and John leftover lasagna,“ your mother reminded him and he shrugged before he hugged her too.

You took a moment to look around the neighbourhood when you heard the door behind you open again.

„Come on. Joel has been grilling steaks in the backyard. They’re to die for,“ your mother said and you allowed yourself a moment to close your eyes as you heard the name.

The last time you heard it, it was you who said it, moaned it. He had you pressed against the mattress, thrusting deeply into you, whispering filth into your ear…

You shook your head. Not the time.

„Kids, I want you to meet Joel Miller,“ your mother took your hand and you turned around with a welcoming smile that froze as your eyes landed on the man in front of you. Dark familiar brown eyes finding yours. His eyes widened for a second before he looked away from you, holding his hand out for your brother to shake.

You blinked your eyes a couple times, trying to make him disappear. It couldn’t be him. There was no way that this was….

Your mothers arm sneaked around his waist, his arm around her shoulders. You saw him take a deep breath before he turned his body towards you, holding his hand out for you to shake.

„And this is my daughter,“ your mother introduced you with your name and you were hoping that whatever you were feeling right now was not showing on your face.

As if on autopilot you pulled your hand up to meet his, your whole body reacting to his touch as his hand squeezed yours, fighting down the thoughts of how this hand touched you the last time you were close to each other.

„Nice to meet you,“ he said and you gulped, meeting his eyes.

„Nice to meet you too, Joel.“

Five-ish months earlier

It was pure luck that you got a hotel room for the night. Your flight back home to Seattle had been canceled due to a hurricane warning and you had rushed to the first airport hotel in Phoenix, the airport you had been stranded on on your way back from New York.

Of course you had no idea some kind of construction job fair networking event thing was held at exactly this hotel for the whole weekend. Though it did explain the price of the room.

You ignored the absurd price tag to the last room you were able to get, making your way with the keycard in hand towards the elevator that would bring you to the 11th floor where you room was.

Waiting in front of the elevator you let your eyes wander through the impressive foyer before the doors of the elevator in front of you opened. You gripped your suitcase before you looked up again, meeting the eyes of the man who was stepping out of the elevator.

He gave you a small smile, holding the elevator for you, as he stepped out.

You swallowed slowly, giving him a thankful smile, walking past him into the elevator. Your eyes slipped close as you smelled his aftershave, your back turned towards him before you turned around, facing him. He was still standing in front of you. He was taller than you, dressed completely in black, dark jeans with a black dress shirt tucked into his pants. The first buttons of his shirt were opened, the sleeves rolled back over his tanned muscular forearms, the ends of a black tattoo just so visible on his arm, making you wonder what exactly it was.

He was by all means one of the most attractive men you had ever seen in your life.

And at least twenty years older than you.

There was an amused smile on his lips as as your eyes finally landed on his, having of course noticed you checking him out.

You felt your cheeks warming as his dark eyes looked at you.

„Thank you,“ you blurted out and he raised his eyebrows.

„For holding the elevator,“ you clarified, feeling stupid. So fucking stupid.

You took a deep breath, which was a dumb idea because he and his aftershave had been in this elevator before and it was mouthwatering. Raising your hand you pushed the button for the eleventh floor.

„You’re welcome,“ he said and fuck, even his voice was sexy.

He was about to say more when someone clapped on his shoulder.

"Come on Joel. Let’s get some drinks,“ a man said to, dressed similar.

The last thing you saw from the man you know knew was named Joel were his eyes on you, winking, as the elevator closed.

While your initial plain consisted of ordering room service and watching the Bachelor until you fell asleep, one phone call with your best friend after making it to the hotel room left you getting your little black dress out (well not so little, but it was one of the nicer dresses you owned) and putting some light make up on.

You couldn’t exactly explain what it was that you were doing, but deep down you knew you would regret not going down to the bar and maybe finding that man, Joel, again. Even if you would only look at him from afar like a creepy stalker.

You never made the first step and your best friend made the very logical point that if you embarrassed yourself for some reason, you would never see the man again.

Nervously talking a last look into the mirror you walked out of the bathroom, switching the lights off.

Sitting down on your bed you took a deep breath.

What were you doing?

You did not know this man. You haven’t even really talked to him. He was older than you. And probably married. Or a serial killer. Not that you had a chance with someone who looked like that. You would probably humiliate yourself, chasing after some guy who was just trying to be nice to a stranger.

„Why am I like this?“ You whined, letting yourself fall back against the bed.

Closing your eyes you tried to relax.

You could do this. You never went for what you wanted. And you wanted him.

„One drink,“ you said to yourself before you got up from the bed, got your heels on and walked out of your room.

You had just gotten your first drink when you felt someone sit down next to you. A shy smile sneaked onto your face, because before you had even looked at the man sitting next to you, you had smelled his aftershave.

He was already looking at you when you finally turned towards him.

„Mind if I sit here?“ He asked and your smile widened.

„Not at all,“ you said.

„Joel,“ you gasped, your head falling back against the door of your room he had pressed you against.

Not even in your wildest dreams did you imagine this outcome when you decided to get down to the bar. You didn’t even think he was really interested. But the more you talked, the closer you got. His warmth against your side as your feet ran up his thigh when he told you about his work. About his life.

About how he hasn’t stopped thinking about what you might look like when you came.

„So fucking pretty,“ he hummed before his lips crashed down on yours. One of his hands pinning your arms over your head against the door while his other hand pushed your skirt slowly up, his fingers running up your thigh.

„Fuck,“ you moaned, your legs already shaking and he hadn’t even touched you really yet.

His lips wandered down your throat and you could feel him smile against your skin, his teeth carefully nibbling at your skin as his hand slipped between your legs, finding your drenched.

„You gonna let me eat this pussy?“ He hummed and you groaned.

„Please,“ you gasped. He chuckled, his finger slowly pushing your panties aside.

„Bet you taste delicious,“ he grinned before his head dipped between your breasts. He kissed the top of them, inhaling deeply.

„Smell so fucking good,“ he hummed. He let go of his grip around your wrist but you kept them up.

„Good girl,“ he hummed and kissed you.

„Want you to get naked for me and lay down on your bed, can you do that for me?“ he asked. You licked your lips, nodding your head.

You hooked your fingers into the straps of your dress, slowly pushing them down your shoulder, Joel’s dark eyes following your every move. His finger still slowly swiping through your pussy.

Reaching around you unhooked your bra, your eyes on him, slipping it down your arms, letting it fall to the ground.

His jaw tensed, his eyes taking you in.

He took a step back from you, his touch leaving you and you slipped your dress down your body, your panties too.

Stepping out of them you walked slowly towards the bed, getting out of your heels but he stopped you.

„Keep them on,“ he grunted and you nodded with a small grin.

Walking past him towards your bed your sat down, slipping back until you were sitting in the middle of the bed, completely naked, safe for your heels.

„So fucking pretty,“ Joel said, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe he was here right now. You let your eyes wander down his broad body, your mouth salivating when you noticed the prominent outline of his cock through his dark jeans.

„Spread those legs for me,“ he said and you tilted your head up to look into his eyes.

The way he looked at you made you feel incredibly sexy, confident, powerful.

Slowly you angled your legs, letting them fall open for him.

He sucked his bottom lip in, just look at your pussy that was so wet you were sure you were dripping onto the sheets beneath you.

„God fucking damn,“ he groaned and slowly began to unbutton his shirt.

Your greedy eyes took in every inch of skin he revealed to your eyes, dying to run your hands and tongue over his broad chest. He carefully slipped his shirt from his upper body, taking great care to hang it over the back of a chair.

When he turned back towards you, seeing your amused expression he shrugged.

„Need to wear that again tomorrow. Can’t have your pussy all over it,“ he explained nonchalantly.

„On my face on the other hand….“ he winked before he slowly joined you on the bed, laying down on his chest right between your legs.

His lips kissed up your inner thigh, his beard deliciously scratching over your skin the closer he got to where you were dripping for him.

Your eyes followed his every move, his dark eyes fixed on you as you saw his lip part, leaning in. You felt his tongue dip into your slit, licking up, teasing your clit all while he moaned as if he just tasted heaven.

„Fucking knew it,“ he groaned. His arms slipped around your upper thighs, pulling you against his mouth, before dove in. Driving you positively insane with his wicked tongue as he slowly but surely brought you to what you would later would find out, first orgasm of the night.

Your fingers were wrapped around the soft strands of his hair as he held you down, licking into you until you came undone, crying out in pleasure as your orgasm left you gasping for air.

He cleaned you with his tongue, carefully, as you tried to normalise your breathing and heart rate. When he was finished he just looked up at you, his cheek resting on your thigh, his chin glistening with you.

„Better than I imagined,“ he whispered, kissing your thigh.

„Huh?“ You asked confused.

He grinned.

„Your face when you cum,“ he winked and you flushed, warmth spreading over your whole body.

Sitting yourself up you reached for him, pulling him up until he was laying on top of you, your hands in his hair as you pulled him towards you, kissing him deeply. You wrapped your legs around his back, wanting him closer.

He moaned against your lips, his tongue dipping into your mouth.

„I want you to fuck me,“ you whispered against his lips.

„I intend to. As often as you let me,“ he hummed back, kissing you again.

He grabbed a pillow when he parted from you, pushing it under your hips before he got up from the bed, getting out of his jeans and boxers. You couldn’t help but bite your lip when you saw his cock for the first time.

Dying to have him inside of you but….

„Joel,“ you said softly and he looked at you.

„It’s been some time…. Years and I…“ you suddenly felt shy, not knowing how to carry on.

He grabbed something before he slowly sat down on the bed. He came to rest on his side, right next to you.

„We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,“ he promised, his hand on your cheek. You turned to your side, looking at him.

„I want to. I just want you to know that it’s been a while and well… you’re fucking huge,“ you shrugged with a awkward laugh. He chuckled, his fingers on your chin tilting it up, so you had to look at him.

„You may be surprised, but I don’t do this often either,“ he said and while your first reaction was to scoff and not believe him, his expression remained honest and open and you believed him.

Slowly your brought one of your hands up to rest on his warm chest, right against his heart feeling it beat.

„Okay,“ you whispered and leaned in to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him as he kissed you. One of his legs came between yours, his thigh meeting your pussy, making you gasp.

You just kissed for a while, touching, getting familiar with each other before he slowly turned you so you were back to laying on your back, him hovering over you.

He parted form your lips, reaching for a condom and you realised that this must have been what he grabbed earlier. He gave you a sheepish smile as he ripped the package open, sitting himself up so he could slip the condom on.

„Thought you might get lucky huh?“ You teased and he grinned.

„Hoped,“ he clarified, lining himself up the tip of his cock slipping into you without any resistance.

„For the record, I have an IUD,“ you said and his eyes darkened but he shrugged his shoulders.

„Better safe than sorry,“ he winked before he slowly sank into you.

Sex with Joel was not like anything you ever experienced before.

He watched your face for any expression, slowing down when he noticed discomfort. He took his time learning what you liked, his sole goal for when he was in your room being your pleasure.

He told you that he was here for this construction congress thing, but whenever he did not have to work or shake hands he was with you.

You didn’t talk about what you were doing. You were living in the moment, not thinking of what would happen once Monday came and you both had to leave this hotel and get back into your life’s.

He only had made one rule.

Not to catch any feelings.

Which you thought you could do.

But he was just so… fucking perfect. At least the version of him you got to spend time with.

It was not even the sex, which was positively mind-blowing, mind you. It was the moments after when he held you and told you about his hobbies. About his company. About his life. Always keeping it vague, never saying anything about where he was from.

Much like you.

On Saturday morning before he had to go to get to a meeting he had you in the shower, your body pressed against the shower wall as he fucked into your from behind, hard, leaving you to moan so loudly when you came that you were sure you would get a noise complaint.

It was the only time he fucked you without a condom and came inside of you.

You never had this much sex and it had never ever been this good before.

Maybe it was because he was older, maybe it was because there was something more….

You hadn’t talked about an after.

After the sex.

After falling asleep in each others arms.

After the conference.

You didn’t have a chance to talk about a potential after when you woke up Monday morning at 3:22 am, finding the bed next to you cold.

At first you thought he was in the bathroom but after a couple of minutes and no sound coming from the room, you sat yourself up, turning the lamp on the bedside table on.

You could still feel his cum that had dried on your stomach hours before, when you found a note from him on the bedside table that said

Thank you

Two months later you found out you were pregnant.

Now

He has been ignoring you.

Which was making you even angrier, because you did nothing wrong.

You were sitting with your mother on the backyard patio enjoying some iced tea, watching your brother and Joel at the grill.

You had learned all the important stuff about Joel from your mother in the last ten minutes.

He was forty five, six years younger than your mom, but still much older than you. He had a daughter whose name was Sarah. She was twenty seven, living in Dallas and working as a doctor, about to be married next spring.

You were just nodding along, frankly overwhelmed with the situation.

You had sex with your mothers boyfriend.

Yes, you didn’t know it back then, and you had verified with your mother when they met each other, they only started dating after that weekend you had spend with him.

But you had slept with him.

You were pregnant from him.

You were pregnant with your mothers boyfriends child.

„Are you okay?“ You mother asked. You almost jumped, your ice tea spilling a little.

„Sorry. A little tired. Work is busy,“ you lied.

„I’m so proud of you baby. My little girl is going places,“ she smiled and you smiled back. Thankfully your brother sat down next to her, involving her in a conversation. It gave you the chance to sneak away into the house to find the bathroom.

You walked by a wall of pictures. Joel was in many of them and the man you had seen back in Phoenix was there too.

You smiled when you saw a younger version of Joel next to a girl that looked so much like him. You saw her grow up through the pictures on the wall. You could see that Joel was a proud dad. Always next to her at the milestones of her life.

For some reason it made you tear up, your hand coming to rest over your stomach, the bump barely there.

Your child would never have this.

They would never have a loving father who was there every single day, for every milestone in their life.

You couldn’t do that to your mother. She was clearly in love with him.

But maybe you were in love with him too.

No man had made you feel like Joel did before. Yes you had some relationships, even one where you could see yourself getting married before it ended.

But Joel….

The things he made you feel in that hotel room were like nothing you had ever felt before. And not just sexually. You felt safe with him. You felt comfortable with him, even when you were both quiet and just enjoying the moment.

You thought it was just a stupid crush at first. Because of the way you met and how it ended.

You couldn’t fall in love with someone you had only known for three days, right?

But against all odds you did, and you had made your peace with it.

You could even understand him leaving you in the middle of the night.

He had told you that he was single and not married. And you believed him. You were much younger than him, which would make this… thing between the two of you most likely not have a future anyway. And long distance was not something that was easy.

You made every excuse in the books for him.

But standing here in his house, looking at his life, all you felt was sadness.

Sadness over what you wouldn’t have.

Why did it have to be him?

„Your mother and your brother left to get ice cream for dessert,“ Joel’s voice made you jump. You hadn’t even heard him come in. Nodding you walked away from this wall of memories, to search for the bathroom your mother had shown your earlier.

You felt sick.

Joel called your name from behind but you shook your head, almost running, but not getting far when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist, making you stop.

„Joel, please…“ you whispered, your eyes closed, taking deep breaths.

„We have to talk. I…“

But you didn’t hear what he said next because the next hing you knew was you vomiting all over his shoes.

And then… nothing.

Your head was pounding when you came back to. You could hear voices as if they talked through cotton.

Groaning you brought your hand up, rubbing it over your temple.

Fuck.

You vomited all over Joel and then you….

You passed out?

One hand came to rest over your stomach, your eyes blinking open in panic.

Were you okay? Was your baby okay? What the fuck happened?

„Hey honey. Slow down. Joel said you passed out?“ You felt your mother take your hand. You were laying on the couch, wondering how you got there.

A million thoughts went through your head, but on the forefront was your worry about your baby. The baby no one knew about.

You were close to hyperventilating when you felt a hand on your back, soothingly rubbing up and down your spine, guiding you to take deep breaths, his voice soothing you almost instantly.

Your mother was still holding your hand, looking worriedly at you when you turned your head to look at Joel. He was so close you could smell him.

Tears sprang into your eyes as you looked away from him to your mom.

„I need to see a doctor,“ you whispered and your mother softly squeezed your hand, Joel’s hand on your back stopping.

„Are you in pain?“ She asked alarmed. You shook your head.

„No. But…“ you gulped, looking quickly to Joel before you looked back at your mother.

„I need to check if the baby is okay,“ you began to cry, your eyes closing, missing the reaction of the people kneeling next to you.

„Baby?“ Your mother asked. You sucked your bottom lip in, nodding slowly before your eyes opened.

You saw the tears in your mothers eyes, surprise clearly in her face before she leaned in and hugged you softly, kissing your cheek, your eyes meeting Joel’s whose eyes were fixed on you, his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed as if he was trying to figure something out.

He wasn’t stupid.

You told him that first night that it had been years since you had been with someone before him. You had no reason to lie to him, not that he knew that.

His eyes widened when you kept looking at him, clearly having made the math.

Your mother looked at you with a warm smile.

„You have to tell me everything. But lets get you to see a doctor first.“

Faith really must have a field day today with you.

Joel drove you and your mother to the next hospital, your brother having to leave to pick up his boyfriend from work. He made you promise to call once you knew everything was okay. He would be waiting for you at his place.

And now you were in the maternity wing, waiting for the doctor to come and make an ultrasound to check if everything was okay.

With Joel waiting with you in the room, as far away from you as he could be without leaving.

Your mother was trying to get in touch with your doctor back in Seattle, leaving Joel with you to wait.

Joel hadn’t said a single word to you since you left his house. You felt his eyes on you but you were stubbornly looking everywhere but at him.

This was not how you planned this.

Then again, you had never planned this situation, had you?

You thought you would never see Joel again. You were starting to make your peace with that fact. Not only having gotten pregnant by a man whose last name you didn’t even know, no but falling in love with the same man.

How could you have predicted that you would meet him again like that?

If you allowed yourself to dream about running into him again, it was definitely not while meeting him as your moms new boyfriend.

The door opened and you looked up, your eyes meeting Joels for a second before you saw an older woman walk in, a warm smile on her face.

„I read that you passed out today?“ She asked after she introduced herself.

„Yeah,“ you nodded.

She sat down on the chair next to the table you were laying on, looking through the file your mother had filled out for your while you had waited.

„Anything in particular happened before you passed out?“ She asked and your eyes briefly met Joels before you looked at her.

„Might be a combination of stress and the weather? I am not used to the heat anymore,“ you have her a shy smile.

She nodded at you, setting the file down.

„I can see that your blood pressure is a little high, but that’s not too bad yet. Let’s check on the baby, shall we?“ She asked and you nodded.

Your pulled your shirt up and she warned you softly that this would be a little cold as she put the gel onto your stomach. You winced a little and she winked at you before she reached for the wand.

„Is this dad?“ She asked you before she looked at Joel.

You looked at him for the first time then. Really looked at him. His whole body was tensed, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his gaze on you, but it felt like he was looking through you.

Though his eyes did find yours when he heard the question, probably wondering what you would say.

And even if you would want to tell the truth, you had to talk to him first.

So you shook your head before you looked at the doctor again.

„Just a friend of my mom. She should be here any minute,“ you said and the doctor nodded.

It took a little while before the heartbeat of your child filled the room. You looked at the monitor, smiling relieved as you saw the little blob, your baby, on the screen.

„It looks like everything is just fine,“ the Doctor said and you shakily breathed out. She smiled softly at you, clicking some buttons on the machine and you just kept looking at your baby, oblivious to Joel having made his way over to you to take a closer look.

„You’re at 17 weeks and the little bean looks as healthy as it can be. I want you to take it a little easier. Make sure to take some breaks and if you’re not used to the heat, maybe stay indoors. Where is home?“ She asked

„Seattle,“ you said and she sighed.

„Too much rain for me. But I can understand why this all was a little much for you here. To be on the safe side, see your Doctor once you get back for a check up,“ she said. You nodded. Her head tilted up and you followed her gaze, surprised to find Joel standing next to you, his eyes fixed on the screen with an unreadable expression.

„Do you want me to print out a copy for your mom?“ The doctor asked. You nodded, your eyes still fixed on Joel.

„Can I get three copies maybe? My mom, me and…“ you gulped, „for the father?“ You looked away from Joel as his head turned to look at you.

The doctor smiled at you.

„Of course.“

And while she worked, the heartbeat of your baby still filling the empty room you allowed yourself to look at Joel who had tears in his eyes as he looked at you.

Your mother hadn’t stopped asking questions on the whole way back from the hospital.

„Why didn’t you tell me?“

„I would have eventually.“

„Do you have a boyfriend?“

„No.“

„Who is the father?“

„He’s not in the picture.“

„Why?“

„Because.“

You could feel Joel’s eyes on you the whole way back to your brother, your head stubbornly turned towards the window, watching the Austin Landscape fly by.

„Are you happy?“ Your mother asked as the truck parked in front of your brothers house.

It was a good question. Were you happy?

The situation was a mess. It was… straight out of a soap opera but much more complicated.

But apart from that? You becoming a mom?

„Yeah. I am happy,“ you answered.

„Then I am happy for you. Gosh, I’m gonna be a Grandma!“ She smiled and you chuckled.

„Yeah. You are.“

„Are you gonna move back here?“ She asked. You shook your head.

„I don’t think so. I like Seattle. I have all my friends there and my job,“ you looked at her. She had turned in her seat so she could look at you.

„I understand. And I don’t want to talk you into something, I know you have a great support system in Seattle. But… you have one here too. Sean would never say it, but he misses you deeply. And you know I would love to see you more,“ she reached over to squeeze your arms softly.

„Mom…“ you sighed.

„I know. I just wanted to say it,“ you looked away from her, looking at Joel for a moment who hadn’t said anything since leaving the hospital.

„I’ll get out of your hair. Sorry for all this mess today,“ you said.

„It’s perfectly fine. I’ll walk you to the door,“ your mother said, already getting out of the car, throwing the door closed behind her. You took a deep breath, still looking at Joel as you reached for the third copy of the sonogram, having written your phone number on the back of it.

Without saying a word, you put it face down on the armrest at the front seat before you got out of the car and walked to your brothers house.

You did not really expect Joel to call you, but you were still left disappointed.

Not that you could not understand him.

He was probably as overwhelmed with the whole situation as you were. But you wanted to talk to him. You had to talk to him. You had a long talk with your brother when you got to his place. You had told him about meeting this man while you were stranded at the airport and how you spend three days with him in your bed. You told him that the rule was to just live in the moment and enjoy the time you had together, but that it left you heartbroken when he just disappeared in the middle of the night, nowhere to be found.

You also told him that somehow even though you had an IUD and he used condoms every single time but that one time in the shower, that the man had still managed to get you pregnant.

Sean held you while you talked. His boyfriend John sitting across from you.

„Sounds to me like you fell for him,“ John said and you groaned.

„I know. So fucking stupid. How can you fall in love with a man you know nothing about?“ You whined.

„Well you may not know much about him. But you clearly clicked on some way. If he had been looking for a quick fuck, he would have left after the first time you had sex. But he came back to you. Probably until he had to leave himself. And you said he was older. Maybe he didn’t see a future,“ John said.

„Or maybe he was married,“ your brother grunted and you punched him lightly in the stomach.

„What? You don’t know for certain if he was,“ he argued.

You sat there in silence for a couple of minutes.

„You have no way of contacting the guy?“ Sean asked softly.

You could lie. But you wanted to tell someone, and you knew your brother would keep your secret if you asked him.

So you told him.

„I do now,“ you whispered.

„What do you mean?“ He asked.

„You gonna hate me,“ you closed your eyes, hiding against his chest.

„I can’t hate you. You’re my favourite little sister,“ he teased and you laughed quietly.

„I am your only sister,“ you reminded him and he shrugged.

You sucked your bottom lip in, nibbling on it.

„It was Joel,“ you whispered, feeling your brother tense next to you.

„I met him almost five months ago in Phoenix. It was before he even met mom,“ you sobbed quietly. His arms tightened around you and you felt him release a long breath.

„Well fuck. That’s….“ He began.

„A fucking mess?“ you helped.

„You could say that.“

A moment of quiet passed before John said.

„Did he say anything?“ John asked and you turned your head, resting your cheek on your brothers chest as you opened your eyes to look at his boyfriend.

„Didn’t really get the chance to talk. First I vomited all over him and then mom was always there. I…. Did sneak him my number. So… I hope he calls,“ you said.

„I can talk to him,“ your brother offered but you shook your head.

„If he doesn’t contact me, his message will be clear. And I have to move on somehow…“

„Do you think you can? Even if you stay in Seattle. Imagine him and mom stay together or get married. He’ll be around all the time. You would see him every time you come and visit.“

„I don’t know,“ you whispered.

Sean sighed.

„We gonna figure this out. But not today. It’s been a long day for you. Let’s get you to bed.“

Your mother came over for breakfast the next day, insisting to spend more time with you before you would leave.

She made excuses for Joel who had to go to work on a construction site. You didn’t really care.

You hadn’t slept the whole night, you just wanted to go home.

To erase the last twenty four hours and live in blissful denial.

It was afternoon when she left, promising to come and see you the next morning before your brother dropped you off at the airport.

And she did. With a gift basket for mothers to be, bringing tears to your eyes.

She made you promise to call more, hugging you goodbye when Sean said it was time to get you to the airport.

You left Austin on a 11am flight.

And Joel did not call.

#my fic #Joel Miller x fem. reader #Joel Miller #Pedro Pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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