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nereidprinc3ss · 9 months ago

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strange perfections

in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!

series masterlist

fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses

The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf.

Stupid scarf, you think.

Stupid door.

Stupid wind.

Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient.

You look at the stack of papers and sigh.

Stupid Lord Byron.

Stupid cafe.

Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly.

One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable.

Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust.

Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance.

Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once.

Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café.

As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk.

It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor.

Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here.

“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up.

“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”

The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you.

“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”

You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that.

Think of something normal to say!

“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”

You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.

“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”

You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?

“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”

He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing.

“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”

Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?

But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out.

“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”

He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles.

All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go.

Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone.

“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot.

“How did you do that?”

His cheeks turn slightly pink.

“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”

“How did you read that fast?”

“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”

You scoff, taking another look through the stack.

“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”

The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently.

“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble.

“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”

“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look.

“Does that make it better?”

“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”

You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels.

“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second.

“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”

“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”

He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself.

He was totally in love with me.

And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again.

All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while.

The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it.

I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café.

What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi!”

Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout.

He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer.

Spencer. Spencer.

It feels important.

“I see you’ve upgraded.”

“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”

“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away.

Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you.

Spence.

Reality sets in.

“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”

It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk.

“I am a creature of habit.”

Another wave as he walks away.

The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way.

“Who was that?”

“Uh… I don’t actually know.”

Yeah. Reality definitely sets in.

Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up.

Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality.

Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.

But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character.

He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination.

This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression.

“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”

Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading.

Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more.

“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”

You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?

While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table.

“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin.

“Uh… hi?”

“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”

“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”

That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real.

“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”

“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”

“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”

What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—

“Garcia!”

Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed.

Adorable? Get a grip.

“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”

“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges.

You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?

“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.

“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”

“Yeah! Um, definitely!”

“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”

“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”

“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley.

Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents.

So that’s cool.

You’re cool with that.

Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer.

“Hotch?”

“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers.

“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet.

Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again.

You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it.

Nah. Boys are dumb.

You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it.

It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?

But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone.

He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line.

Weird.

You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?

“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”

It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it.

He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second.

“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”

“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”

“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”

“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”

He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless.

“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”

It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long.

“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”

“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”

Your brow furrows and you laugh.

“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”

“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”

You say it before you can think too hard.

“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”

And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid.

After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice.

One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.

It ceases. And then it starts again.

Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible.

“Do you think you should…”

His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air.

“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”

You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company.

But his job is important.

“What if you have a case?”

“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”

Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.

“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”

As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present.

“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”

Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer.

You balk.

“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”

“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”

“Where would this hanging out take place?”

Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits.

“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”

He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly.

“Restaurants.”

There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.

“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”

You look down. God, your face feels warm.

“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”

Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now.

“I would.”

More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted.

Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair.

“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”

“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”

Spencer chuckles.

“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”

Not, what?

Not, you’ve never been on a date before?

Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?

With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way.

He says none of that.

“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards.

“Sounds like a good first step.”

Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.

“I’d love to.”

He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair.

“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”

His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute.

“I should—”

“You definitely need to go.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”

You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper.

“I don’t—”

“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

He’s so weird.

A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go.

part four

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic

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cherryredstars · 1 year ago

Note

Idk what wrong with me but I've been craving some highschool oneshot, or anything tbh

So I hope if u could do badbad!Miguel x goodgirl!nerd?

I have no idea what I meant by goodgirl!nerd,let just make her an good girl who always an big time nerd in the school,who loves helping people out,especially when it come to tutoringor tutor some students,so when miguel ask for her to tutor him,so he could catch up with his grades,she say yes to him,but he really didn't need the tutoring he just wanted to play around with reader (he would been craving for some of her attention,he would have an interest in her without anyone notice) he loved teasing,flirty, and most definitely love making her all stuttering and blushing mess,but what he hate how people who think that have their advantage over reader,eye fucking her with their eyes,it just makes his blood boil,his fist clenching in anger,but he deals with them later (beating tf out of them for thinking that they can touch what his) but not feeling satisfied he just had to show u who u belong to,and make you his,so on one can try to get u before him

Idk what wrong with me like I can write when I'm zoned out (also could u pls put nfsw pls)

Anyway have an great day

Pairing: Badboy!Miguel O’Hara x Goodgirl!Reader

Warnings: Protectiveness, Suggested Physical Fighting, Smut, Slight Exhibition, Marking, Praise, Lots of Curses and Mentions to Disney

Summary: All good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you. (Get it..like the song)

A/N: THIS REQUEST IS SO!!!

Word Count: 4.5K (Barely Edited)

It doesn’t take much to notice you.

He sees you all the time, sitting in the front like the good little girl you are. Batting those innocent eyes up at every teacher as you shoot your hand up to answer every question with a bashful smile. Eyes you as you go up to different students, reminding them of tutoring sessions or offering help. His good little girl just wanted to make sure everyone graduates with passing grades. Just want to be so helpful for everyone, to feel needed. He could make you feel needed. Only if you’d let him, only if you needed him as much as he needed you.

When he calls your name, your head shoots up instantly to turn to him. Your cheeks heat up when your eyes meet his, a smirk spreading on his face. He calls you over, finger forming a ‘come here’ motion. You instantly obey, getting out of your seat and standing over his desk. You flutter your lashes shyly at him, fingers fidgeting together as you try to kill the redness on your face. Miguel hums lazily, hand reaching out to play with a strand of your hair resting on your shoulder. Your hair is soft and silky against his fingers, his eyes watching as it twirls around his fingers.

“Tutor me.” He says simply, eyes blazing a lazy trial up to your face. His expression is one of boredom, except his eyes are glistening with mischief.

The eye contact makes you flush deeper, face practically a tomato as you refocus your gaze to his ear to avoid his gaze. A stuttered response leaves you, uncertainty masking your voice as you ask him what he needs help with. The question momentarily pauses his movements. Truthfully, he doesn’t need help with anything. He has a high class rank, closely following behind your up and coming valedictorian title. In the end, he replies with science, a class he has a perfect grade in. You instantly agree, shyly giving him a time and day to go to the library for his sessions.

He always shows up a few minutes early, you find him on his phone as his feet are propped up on a secluded table with his chair leaning on its back legs. A lazy smile crosses his face as he watches you walk over, not caring for the science workbooks you set down at the table. You try your hardest not to meet his gaze, finding it hard when he sets his feet down and leans closer towards you as you explain the material in quiet, stuttered sentences. He simply hums along to your explanations, not really listening as he brushes his shoulder against yours, accidentally grazing your hand when he points to a random paragraph, pressing the side of his knee against yours under the table.

Each touch makes you stop talking, body tensing as a flush covers every inch of your skin. His touch burns against your skin, causing your voice to waver and fingers to tremble. He drinks in every reaction, interrupting your explanations with questions whispered too close to your ear in a flirty tone. They’re questions he already knows the answers to, but he just wants to keep hearing you talk and stutter. He’ll make you late to your next tutor session with a pout, teasing that he still doesn’t understand what you’re trying to teach him. It always causes your eyes to soften towards him and make you promise that you’ll move your schedule around to make room for a sooner tutoring session. It always causes Miguel to puff up with pride at his clever antics and for his heart to beat faster at the thought of spending more one-on-one time with you.

When he’s not with you in his lovely tutor sessions, he keeps his eye on you. He watches you in the cafeteria as you offer someone your lunch because they didn’t bring any money and don’t have anything to eat. He smiles slightly to himself whenever you get stopped by an underclassman and you fuss over making sure they get to the right class and don’t end up lost in the halls. He gets slightly annoyed and furrows his brows when you hold the door open for a long string of people and only a few of them acknowledge your kindness with a thank you. You’re just so nice and he wishes he can have that sweetness of yours all to himself. Especially when he sees some random ass fuck trying their go at you. Because, of course you’re not just nice and smart, you’re a total fucking knockout.

You have the sweetest little face paired with a body any man would get on his knees to worship, (a thought Miguel thinks about very often in the comfort of a bathroom or his bedroom), the shiniest fucking eyes that always blink up at everyone like they’re the most interesting damn thing you’ve ever met, and a voice that drips of honey and hidden sex appeal. And if it isn’t your looks that instantly draw them in, it’s that perfect personality of yours. Always kind and patient and funny. You’re always walking with someone in the halls, making everyone you’re with laugh and crave to be the subject of your attention. You’re a goddamn magnet, and everyone wants to be connected to you. You’re the type of woman that would convince any man to settle down, to drop to a single knee and ask you to be his for life. Because everyone knows that you’re a once in a lifetime girl and no one will ever come close to you. Every boy (and some girls) in this damn school wants a chance with you.

And that pisses Miguel the fuck off. Because while you’re wife material, most boys here don’t even meet the requirements to be considered boyfriend material. Sleezy fucks who want a trophy wife that will suck them off after they come home from some meaningless job that they sit around all day doing nothing at. Immature cunts who think they’re funny when they poke fun at insecurities and claim it's a joke. Disgusting toddlers in overgrown bodies who don’t deserve to be in the same universe as you are. But, of course you’re still nice to them, and of course they think it means they have a chance with you.

Miguel is always clenching his jaw and preparing his fists whenever he walks into the library to meet you after one of your earlier sessions to see some disney channel-looking fucker trying to sweet talk you. Key word being ‘trying’, because he can tell from a mile away that you’re still trying to be patient even though your body language screams ‘I am so close to slapping this boy with my textbooks’. The thought makes Miguel snort out a laugh that instantly dies as he watches some Zac Efron wannabe lean closer towards you. The asshole’s eyes instantly drop to your chest, where your textbooks are causing your boobs to be pushed together, revealing the most mouthwatering sight. Miguel’s eye is practically twitching when the dude’s slimy fingers come to run down your arm with the ugliest smirk Miguel has had the displeasure of seeing.

Miguel doesn’t hesitate to walk over, walking slowly as he stops at the end of the table with a bored and displeased expression on his face. The boy, who’ll probably end up as a drug addict in his 20s, looks very annoyed at his presence. Even muttering something about Miguel being a ‘cock-blocker’ under his breath. The retort makes Miguel lift his brow in surprise. He didn’t know Mickey Mouse Junior even had a dick. Must be one of his magic mousekatools, he concludes.

Miguel ignores him, instantly turning to you. The grateful look on your face as you stare at him makes Miguel puff out his chest, proud of himself for making you feel better. His body loses the tiniest bit of tension as you smile softly at him. “He bothering you, princesa?”

You instantly widen your eyes, moving to shake your head when Donald Duck speaks up, “I think you’re the one bothering her, actually.”

He must have been a mosquito in his past life, Miguel thinks to himself, it would explain why he’s so fucking annoying. Miguel turns over to Shrek’s brother and stares him down. The boy instantly looks like he might piss his pants, but keeps his position as much as his wobbling legs can, “I think you should leave Miguel. I’m sure she’ll be…preoccupied for the next hour or two.”

His comment makes you cringe from the applied meaning and Miguel sees absolute red. He has to laugh at what this fucker thinks would have happend if Miguel didn’t show up. Yeah right, like this motherfucker could last that long. Miguel grabs the front of his collar with a tight grip, almost pulling the poor boy over the table. A vein is visibly running down Migue’s neck as his jaw clenches.

“Puta madre. Cuando termine contigo, no podrás tocar nada nunca más.” Miguel grinds out, shaking the worthless piece of shit slightly before turning towards you in a nicer, softer tone, but still laced with a bit of tension: “Go find us a nice table, hermosa. I have to take care of something real quick.”

You can only nod, watching as Miguel leaves with the boy out the back entrance of the library. You wince slightly as the door closes rather loudly, feeling a bit of sympathy for the boy who most likely won’t schedule another tutoring session once Miguel comes back. You spend the next 20 or so minutes preparing the secluded table Miguel likes best. Laying out all your books and supplies, sitting still and then getting antsy and shifting things to straighten them every few minutes.

When Miguel finds you, he walks over with his hands in his pocket. He looks just like he did a few minutes ago, his hair just slightly disheveled. Your heart might have actually stopped when his hand leaves his pocket to grab yours that are drummin nervously on the wooden table. His hand is rough compared to your soft one as he bends down and brings it to his face. His lips are soft, if not slightly chapped, when he presses a fleeting kiss to your knuckles, mumbling an apology for taking so long as he stares into your eyes. Your eyes are wide as you stutter out reassurance that it’s fine. Miguel simply hums before dropping your hand and going to sit down. He pauses when your small hands grab his once again.

Your thumb strokes over the redness and slight purple color of his knuckles, something that definitely wasn’t there when he first came in, hinting at what happened outside of the library building. A slight crease appears between your brows and your lips are in a sad pout.Your eyes don’t leave his hand when you mutter, “You’re hurt.”

Your concern makes Miguel slightly happy, liking the idea you care for him. He slips his hand into yours, bending back down as his hand goes under your chin to lift your face. Out of sight from peering eyes, he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, mkay?”

Your stuttered and shy state makes him smile, muttering how cute you are as he finally sits down. You have to clap a hand over your mouth to conceal a squeak when Miguel grabs the seat of your chair and pulls it closer to him, practically connecting the edge of the chairs. He casually throws his arm over the back of your chair, not doing any dramatics like faking a yawn or stretching. You stare and blink at him, nervousness bubbling in your stomach as he leans in closer. “Are we going to start or what, mami?”

He keeps his smile to himself, watching as you clear your throat and scramble to open your science textbook to where you had left off the last time. He just sits and watches, fingers ghosting over your shoulder gently, feeling nothing like the other guy. He listens to what you’re saying faintly, pointing at some diagram in the book. He thinks you asked him a question because you stare at him patiently, yet expectantly. He turns to you, shrugging, “Can’t see the model clearly.”

You nod, moving to push the book closer to him before his hands are on your waist. He leans fully back into his chair as he lifts you off yours and into his lap. He pulls the book in front of the both of you, head resting on your shoulder as he hums. “That’s better. Now ask the question again.”

Your brain stops functioning for a second, Miguel’s hands leaving your waist to rest against your legs, fingers slightly caressing the side of your thigh. Your nervousness makes you squirm, and his hands instantly grab onto your thighs tightly with a hiss. He grinds out for you to ask the question again, but he doesn’t sound aggressive. His voice sounds more pained and desperate. You nod with a gulp, hesitantly reasking the question that he pretends to think about before answering correctly just to hear your praise.

As you continue talking, Miguel’s fingers rub the skin just below the ending of your skirt. You try to ignore the touches, but your body melts against his front as your voice quiets and you shift your body slightly to press into him. Miguel’s breath tickles your neck and your thighs clench as a single finger slips under the material of your skirt. It just barely skims over your panties, and your breath hitches. Miguel smirks at your reactions, asking you what’s wrong as he slowly moves your leg so it hangs over his leg. You’re a stuttering mess, brain malfunctioning when his hand comes back and caresses the crotch of your panties. Your cheeks flush, knowing it’s damp in arousal.

A quiet groan leaves Miguel as he moves your panties to the side, letting his fingers rub against your bare pussy. Sticky fluid instantly clings to his fingers and his head turns to press kisses against your neck, his free hand coming up to your chin to tilt your head to the side for more room. Your hand comes down to hold his arm, eyes closing as the tips of his fingers tease your entrance. When he hears your slight whimper, he looks up to your face and pulls his fingers away, moving them to trace circles in your inner thigh.

The small sound you make in protest causes him to chuckle, “Shh, shh. Keep talking, baby. You’re supposed to help me, remember?”

You open your mouth to protest but his fingers are back, this time slowly sinking into your heat instead of just teasing with his fingertips. Your eyes instantly close again and you let out a shuddering breath. You open our eyes, trying to focus on the words in the book. When you begin to read and explain a scientific equation, Miguel’s fingers reach knuckle-deep into you. You can hear the muffled sound he makes as he continues to suck and kiss your neck. Your weak explanation is cut off when he pulls his fingers back and pumps them into you, curling his fingers. The beginning of a moan is let out before your hand clasps over your mouth. Miguel laughs evilly as he continues moving his fingers.

You're sure this is a game to him. Everytime you stop explaining things, he stops and tells you to continue. But once you start talking, his pumps and curls his fingers faster, causing you to cut yourself off when sounds of pleasures. You’re a mess by the time you finish your explanation, hips grinding into Miguel’s hand and fingers clutching to the edge of the table for stability.

Once you say your last words, Miguel speeds his fingers up and bites into your neck, “Good girl. Gonna give you a reward for being such a good girl for me, yeah?”

You don’t hesitate to nod, face screwed up in pleasure as you reach closer and closer to the edge. Miguel leaves your neck, licking the bite soothingly before tilting your face back towards him. He muffles the loud moan you make as you gush around his fingers with a deep kiss. He bites and sucks on your bottom lip, eyes closed and brows furrowed as he savors the taste of your lip gloss. His tongue swipes over the seam of your lips, causing you to part them as his tongue explores your mouth.

His fingers move to lazy pumps, working you through your orgasm before stopping completely. Your body shakes slightly against his, and he smirks into the kiss before pulling away. His fingers reappear from under your skirt, covered in your white cum. You both watch as he part his two fingers, white strings connecting the two. You let out an embarrassed whimper, watching as Miguel brings them up to his mouth, licking them clean. Your taste instantly floods his mouth and he practically rolls his eyes back. Of course you’d taste so fucking sweet and delicious. His fingers leave his mouth with a small pop, hurriedly coming back to kiss you again. A shy moan leaves you at your own taste.

Miguel’s hand moves your other leg, spreading you out fully so both of your legs are pressed into the sides of his thighs. His hand leaves your chin and scoots you further up his leg, working on undoing his jeans just enough to stick his aching cock out of his underwear. The head is red and leaking, precum sliding down his length. His hand comes to pump himself before he moves you back over him, his cock resting against your ruined panties.

“Move your panties to the side for me, yeah?” He mumbles against your lips. You comply instantly, pushing your panties to one side, moaning when Miguel takes a hold of his cock to align it with you. He pushed slowly into you, his hand releasing his cock to hold onto your thigh and to cover your mouth as you continued moaning out. He throws his head back with a choked moan the moment he bottoms out, holding still to bask in the way your tight cunt swallows him and squeezes around him.

“Feels so fucking tight. Feels like I’m in heaven.” Miguel hisses out, his hips thrusting into you experimentally.

The cutest of mewls leave your mouth, causing Miguel to nose your cheek almost lovingly. He takes his time, lazily thrusting into your pulsating pussy in an attempt to hold himself back. But he’s wanted this for so long. He’s wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to just be near you since the moment he laid eyes on you. And he’s here, in the goddamn school library, and you’re letting him fuck you as you sit on his lap. It feels like a scene straight out of some fucked-up erotica or porn video. Would it be too much if he started thanking you until he’s a babbling mess?

A strangled noise leaves Miguel when you start fucking bouncing on his cock, impatient with his slow speed. Instinctively, his hips speed up. The sound of wet squelching filling the small, unoccupied section of the library. Anyone can walk over, some poor student or librarian in need of a book only to find his good girl riding his cock so desperately. The thought makes his balls tighten and he has to distract himself before he blows his load into you too soon. He buries his head into the curve of your shoulder, shifting the hand that covers your mouth to stuff two of his fingers past your lips. Without even asking, you start sucking on them as you lift your hips up and down.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl, princesa.” Miguel praises into your ear, his hand leaving your thigh to pinch and play with your neglected clit. It causes you to squirm and for your steady riding to falter. “Oh fuck. Taking my cock so well, yeah? Taking it is so good for me. Holy fuck!”

More curses leave his mouth as he pounds into you, shifting his hips until he hits that gummy spot inside of you that causes you to wrap your arm around his neck to hold on for dear life. Your pussy just keeps quivering around him, milking him for the cum you so desperately need to be filled with. The cum he wants to fill and claim you with. The thought of you walking out of the library, hell going to tutor another student, with his cum flooding your pussy and dripping through your panties is something he’s fantasized about for months. His pure, innocent girl tainted with how dirty she is by fucking him of all people, in a place where anyone can see how naughty she really is.

“Miguel!”

The sound of your muffled call makes his eyes snap open from their closed position, He looks up at your face, watching as a line of drool drips from your stuffed mouth. He has to groan and give you deep thrusts as a thank you for the pretty sight. As he thrusts, he realizes how much your walls have contracted, practically trying to trap his cock inside you. He notices how much your body is beginning to twitch and he knows you’re close. Your eyes look hazy and the muffled moans you let out add on to how close you must be to coating his cock.

“Wanna cum on my cock, love? Gonna cum and make you all mine, yeah?” He whispers into your ear, slowing his fast thrusting in exchange for hard and deep thrusts that cause you to whine. You desperately nod your head, babbled and incoherent nonsense being said around his fingers.

Miguel let out a low chuckle, speeding up again and relishing the happy noise that vibrates in the back of your throat. Your walls clench around him like a heartbeat for a few blissful moments before you're screaming around his fingers as your back arches and thighs shake. Miguel moans as he feels you cum around him, the lewdest noises coming from your wet cunt as he hammers into you for his own release. A sweat builds up on his face as he drives into you, trying to push in and out of your tight walls that only seem to tighten the more he thrusts.

“That’s my good fucking girl. Came so beautifully around my cock.” He mumbles, looking down to where the two of you are connected to see the most gorgeous white ring at the base of his cock. He can feel himself twitching inside of you, on the brink of exploding.

Miguel bites into your neck as one last act of claiming as he spills into you, his hips not stopping as he pumps you full of his seed. A delirious moan comes from you as you feel his warmth, but you seem happy as you melt into him. Your skin is sticky from sweat, arousal, and Miguel’s saliva when he pulls his face away from your neck. The bite mark is red against the purples beginning to stain your skin. He can feel himself getting hard again at the sight of it, but he refrains from taking more than what you’ve already given him.

He lifts you up slightly, moaning as a mix of cum slowly falls from your hole, dripping onto the underside of his semi-hard cock. It drips down, merging with the cum that still sits at the base of his dick. He makes you stand between his legs, your upper body pressed against the table as you try to recompose yourself as Miguel lifts up the back of your skirt to study your glistening pussy and thighs. He pressed a small kiss on your pussy lips before readjusting your underwear to cover you again. A proud smile graces his lips as he watches the previous wet spot in them get darker from the cum still trying to leave you.

When he pulls the skirt back down, he finds you looking over your shoulder with a shy look. His beautiful good girl is back to her doe eyes and flustered cheeks. Miguel tucks himself back into his underwear, zipping himself back up. He takes the time to lazily look around, amazed that no one realized what was happening or witnessed it. He stands up off the chair, looking back towards you and wraps one of his arms around your middle to pull you up against his chest.

The tiniest of squeaks leaves you as you meet his hard chest again, looking up at him with amazement. You can’t help but study his face, admiring the way his lashes flutter as he blinks and the way he looks good from even this angle. HIs eyes look down at you briefly, a lazy smile coming over his face as he shakes his head. He works on packing up your things for you, closing the unneeded textbook and stuffing it and your other supplies back into your bag. When he’s finished, he shifts his face down towards you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

The sappy smile that appears on your face makes his heart beat fast and for his own cheeks to heat up. He gulps and clears his throat, looking away as his hand starts rubbing the skin it rests over. He slings your book bag over his shoulder, the pastel color of it a large contrast over his entirely black attire. He stares back down at you, pushing hair out of your face and tilting his head at you.

“Do you have another tutoring session to go to now?” He whispers softly, smiling when you shake your head no wordlessly. He hums in pleasure, his arm sliding from around your center and down to your hand, dwarfing it in his. He gives it a tight squeeze and pulls you with him as he starts walking towards the exit. You follow him with no resistance, just hurrying your pace to keep up with his long strides.

“Where are we going?” You ask as the afternoon sun instantly hits both of you when you walk out the door. He pulls you straight to his car, opening the passenger door for you and closing it before putting your bag in the backseat. You watch without question through the windshield as you buckle in and he rounds the car to go through the drivers’ side door. After he buckles in, he turns and starts reversing, not answering until he’s out of the parking spot and turning the wheel back to straighten it.

“Imma take you home so you can change.” He says simply, turning to throw you a quick smile before grabbing your hand again and intertwining them as he clutches onto the gearshift. “And then, I’m going to take you out on a date.”

Part 2

Literally the longest thing I’ve posted because I love this request so much! I now reached 100 pages in my writing doc. As always, SpanishDict was used.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x you #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #across the spiderverse smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel o hara #spiderman 2099 #cherry's requests🍒

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octopiys · 5 months ago

Text

Lost and Found

I. roll call and rainy nights

Maybe Simon doesn't have any kids. Not yet at least. Maybe he doesn't know anyone we'll enough, or maybe he's not sure if he wants them in the first place.

But I'll tell you what.

Every time he goes on leave, without fail, he has an army of critters showing up to his house in the country. He never turns anything out to the streets, or to the cold night. The bottom of his pantry is stock full of dog and cat food. He's got three bird feeders in his back yard. There's four refillable water bowls by his garage.

The raccoons show up first without fail. They're named One and Deux, and they just recently had a baby named Tres. Hes pretty sure they live on his roof. He checked his cameras one night, after a long mission, and found them holding up Tres to the camera.

He didn't cry about that, what are you talking about?

Then the dogs show up. They're all mutts of varying sizes. One looks like some sort of lab, named Dog. Another is about the size of a pomeranian, but looks like a shaggy chihuahua. That's Barrow. He found her in his garden shed. She's got a mean bite, but a sweet face. The third is a big dog, almost the size of a Dane, but... not. He's not very smart. He's named barkmulch. Get it, cus- cus he barks- the fourth has gone unnamed. It's a furry little white thing, and it yaps at him a lot, nipping at his ankles anytime he enters the room. Behave, and it'll get a name.

There are a few cats that show up too. None of them have names except for one: Scraggle.

Scraggle is the ugliest fucking thing you can imagine. Scraggle is that shade of grey that white cats get when they're dirty, except you can't wash it off. The poor cat is missing patches of fur, and it seems permanent. It only has one eye. It's nose is flat, and gives it's face the illusion of a squished tomato. There's a scar going from it's whiskers, across it's nose and up to it's missing eye. Simon doesn't actually know what gender this cat is. It is only Scraggle.

Scraggle is also... very stupid, as far as cats go. It gets squished between the couch cushions, and yowls when Simon accidentally sits on him. How could he have seen him anyways? Scraggle screams when his food bowl is empty. Scraggle screams when everyone else's food bowls are empty. Scraggle screams when it manages to find it's way on top of the kitchen cabinets, and needs Simon's help to get down. Scraggle is a full time job when he's off duty.

Scraggle is his favorite.

He finds you in the rain.

Not nearly as run down as the rest of his animals, but just as lost.

Covered in scratches, blood, and muck, he finds you on the edge of his property, being screamed at by Scraggle, because it doesn't do much else.

Your clothes are torn, and you look a bit more haggard than you should. Wet, and cold, and hungry. Like you had missed a turn off the trails, or you were running away from them. From something.

You look up at him with wide eyes, but decide to trust him, to follow him like a lost creature, because he could not be worse than what you escaped from.

He makes soup. He gives you soup.

He's not the best conversationalist. He's not used to things he finds actually talking back to him in a language he can understand.

You tell him your name. He calls you Honey. You'll earn your name. Behave, you'll get it.

Scraggle is on thin ice with you. Attention stealer. Food giver. You get the cat down from places it shouldn't be. But Simon pays more attention to you than he does Scraggle. You fool. Scraggle is all. Scraggle is life.

You don't leave, much like the other things he feeds. You make yourself useful, because you're afraid of being turned out. If you're useful, then nothing will happen. And you go to bed every night warm with a full belly.

You're just another lost thing he's taken in. You don't leave when he disappears. You know he'll come back. He always does.

And he watches the cameras, while he's on a mission. He watches you diligently fill the bowls, the bird feeders, the waters, the bath. You trot out to the fish pond, and throw handfuls of feed out in the early hours of the night. Then you make your way back through the tall grass, and into the house.

Scraggle screams. You feed it too, and then pick it up. And carry it around like it's a little baby.

Hm. Maybe....

You were a sweet like honey, a pretty little thing. You weren't lost anymore. He'd found you, you're his now.

He'll take care of you.

Scraggle agrees. Scraggle likes you too.

masterlist

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #modern warfare 2 #ghostsoap #captain john price #alejandro vargas #alerudy #incorrect quotes #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley

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loafysainz · 12 days ago

Text

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

next chap

Part 10 The Bombshell News

Breakfast was a feast on its own. Chessy placed each dish in front of Mattia with a wide smile.

"Alright, little chillie boy, breakfast today is tostada con tomate y aceite de oliva, perfectly toasted bread rubbed with ripe tomatoes and drizzled with the finest Spanish olive oil. Oh, I also made jamón ibérico, thin slices of the best cured ham straight from Salamanca. I added a plate of tortilla española, soft and golden, with a hint of caramelized onions. Oh, and if you're in the mood for something sweet, I made churros served with thick, velvety hot chocolate. Lastly, just to top it all off, a small plate of queso manchego paired with fig jam," Chessy said, her voice a mix of pride and anticipation as she placed all the dishes in front of the boy.

Mattia stared at the food, wide-eyed. Did his twin brother eat like this every day? Did he have a black hole for a stomach? He felt full just looking at the table. Slowly, he picked up a piece of toast but didn’t take a bite.

Chessy immediately noticed and frowned. “What’s wrong baby? Not hungry again? You barely touched your dinner last night. Are you sick?” she reached out, pressing his palm against Mattia’s forehead.

“It’s not that, Chessy. Everything looks delicious. Seriously,” Mattia reassured, offering a sheepish smile.

Chessy seeing him for a moment before shrugging. “Okay then.”

Mattia take the toast that Chessy made, it was delicious—something he’d never tasted back in London. He washed it down with a sip of fresh orange juice.

“Chessy… where’s my Dad?” Mattia asked, his voice hesitant.

Chessy, who had been cleaning up a few crumbs, paused. “Ah, your dad and… the young woman,” he said, mimicking an exaggerated voice, “‘Chess, I just want an apple for breakfast, thanks,’ left early to handle some wine cellar business. You were on the phone, and they didn’t want to interrupt.”

Mattia’s cheeks flushed. He hadn’t realized anyone noticed. “Oh… it’s just that I…”

“Were you talking to someone important? Like you called before breakfast?” Chessy teased, raising an eyebrow.

Mattia nearly choked on his toast. “I… uh, I was talking to a friend.”

Chessy leaned on the counter, giving him an incredulous look. “At 5 in the morning? Are you planning something chillie?” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Panicking, Mattia stumbled over his words. “Oh! No, no. My friend on vacation in Hawaii, and he told me that he is having fun there.”

Chessy smirked but didn’t press further. “Alright, little liar. Anyway, your Dad said to head to the cellars after breakfast. He wants to talk to you.”

Mattia nodded, grateful for the change in topic. “Thanks, Chessy.” He grabbed a churos on his way out, muttering, “Everything was delicious.”

As he reached the door, their dog, Sammy, barked loudly, almost as if trying to warn him of something. Mattia frowned, trying to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

“You have to push it, Matheo,” Chessy called out, clearly amused.

Mattia pushed, the door finally giving way. “I’m losing my mind,” he muttered, hurrying out before Chessy could say anything else.

****

The wine cellars were massive, filled with the rich aroma of aged bottles. Mattia wandered through, marveling at the sheer size, until he found his father inspecting a bottle of Heredad Sainz de Castro 1789 wine. A pang of emotion hit him as he realized it was his mother’s favorite.

Carlos looked up, startled but quickly smiled. “Oh, Theo, didn’t hear you come in. Just a second,” he said, setting the bottle back in its place and moving aside some boxes. “Alright, let’s talk outside.”

Once outside, Carlos glanced at him seriously. “I wanted to ask you about something. Actually… it’s about Meredith.”

Mattia’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s funny. I also have something to ask you… about Mom.”

Carlos froze, clearly caught off guard. “What?”

“What do you want to tell me about Meredith?” Mattia pressed, ignoring the shock on his father’s face.

Carlos bit his lip. “Matheo, wait… your mom?”

Matheo nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Yes, old man. Remember, you never told me about my mom?”

Carlos winced. “We’ve talked about this before, Matheo.”

“Not really! And don’t blame me for being curious. It’s normal to want to know about your mom. Or do you think I’ll keep believing a dove delivered me to your doorstep?” Mattia crossed his arms, glaring up at him.

Carlos looked increasingly uncomfortable. “Wait, that’s not…”

“Come on Dad, I know you’re always here for me, but I still need a mom. It’s a big deal, and you know it.”

Carlos sighed heavily, nodding. “You’re right. You need that figure in your life, which is why I wanted to tell you about…”

He was interrupted by the honk of a golf cart. Meredith arrived, beaming, with a decent-dressed man by his side. “Hello, my love! Just in time to introduce you to our shareholder, James Charles,” Meredith announced cheerfully.

Carlos composed himself, greeting Sergio with a firm handshake. “A pleasure to meet you.”

Meredith’s eyes sparkled as she turned to the man. “And this is Matheo, the kid I always tell you about.”

Sergio smiled warmly. “It’s a pleasure. Meredith speaks highly of you.”

Meredith smirked and patted Carlos’s arm. “Honey, I was planning to have lunch on the terrace with Mr. Charles to discuss the new wine collection.”

“Great idea,” Carlos replied smoothly. “But I promised Matheo we’d go riding today.” He winked at his son.

Meredith waved it off. “Of course, Carlitos. Don’t let me keep you. I’ll handle the business side of things.” As she climbed back into the cart, she leaned toward James. “When I marry Carlos Sainz, that kid’s going to boarding school. Mark my words.”

James chuckled. “Ouw…soo nasty and cute of you, Meredith.”

“I know,” Meredith replied smugly. “Don’t remind me.”

****

Mattia’s laughter echoed through the vineyard, his face lit with exhilaration. It was his first time riding a horse, and he couldn’t believe how free it made him feel. Perched atop the stallion, he gave a small pat to his stallion, feeling every trot as if it were his own heartbeat.

“Matheo, let the stallion rest!” Carlos called out from behind, his voice tinged with parental authority but softened by affection.

Matheo slowed the horse to a stop, guiding him to a hill that overlooked endless rows of vineyards. The golden sunlight poured over the valley, casting a warm glow over the scene. He turned to Carlos, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Hey, Matheo,” Carlos began as he caught up. “Ready for the next camp?”

Mattia tilted his head in confusion, his expression a mix of genuine curiosity and a dash of theatrical cluelessness. “Which camp?”

Carlos squinted at him, a little annoyed but mostly amused. “The one we always do every summer. What do you mean, ‘which camp’?”

“Oh, ‘that’ camp!” Mattia’s response was quick, his voice dripping with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Can’t wait, Dad. Literally counting the seconds.” His tone was just convincing enough to pass.

Carlos smiled, giving him a knowing look. “Matheo, I wanted to ask you something.”

Mattia stiffened slightly, the shift in tone making his stomach flip. “What is it?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“What do you think about Meredith?”

Mattia blinked, caught off guard. “As a person?” he asked, trying to waste time. Carlos nodded, his gaze steady. Mattia scratched the back of his neck, his thoughts racing as fast as the stallion had been moments ago.

“Well, I mean…” he started, his voice faltering. “She seems awesome. Attractive, I guess? And she can say your name without butchering it, so there’s that. But… she’s kind of a mystery to me. Why?” His words tumbled out like a half-built defense, unsure where this was headed.

Carlos hesitated before speaking. “Because I wanted to tell you that she and I…”

Mattia’s chest tightened. He didn’t know what Carlos was about to say, but something about the tone made him want to avoid hearing it at all costs.

“I bet you can’t catch me!” he shouted abruptly, yanking the reins and urging the horse forward.

“Matheo! Wait!” Carlos’s voice rang out in alarm. “I’m trying to tell you something!

But Mattia didn’t look back. The wind whipped past his face as the horse galloped through the vineyard, Carlos chasing after him in a panicked blur. By the time Mattia reached the house, he was out of breath and brimming with a mix of guilt and panic.

****

Mattia burst into the living room in panic his thoughts swirled in chaos. “God, I can't handle this, it's too much, I'm just a kid. I can’t.” he said while trying not to cry.

"Do you want to share something with me Matheo?" Chessy said appearing from behind the couch, scaring Mattia to death.

"Oh my God Chessy, you gave me a fright" he said, earning a strange look from his babysitter.

" I gave you a fright??" she asked incredulously, making a line with her mouth.

"Alright, enough. I just want to ask you. Are you sure there’s nothing you wanna talk about? Like, why Sammy’s been avoiding you? Or why your appetite’s gone all weird? Or, I don’t know, why you’re suddenly using phrases like ‘you gave me a fright’?”

Mattia tried to laugh it off, but it sounded weak even to him. “I’ve just… changed over the summer, that’s all.”

Chessy raised an eyebrow, leaning in like she was piecing together a puzzle. “Gosh, if I didn't know you well enough, I’d say it’s almost like you were—”

“Like I was who, Chessy?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “It’s impossible. Forget I said anything.”

But Mattia wasn’t letting it go. “Almost like I was Mattia?” his voice was quiet, daring her to confirm what he knew.

Chessy was speechless hearing that name, “Wait—you know about Mattia?”

Mattia took a deep breath and said, "It's just that...I am Mattia.” Chessy was completely shocked as tears began to slide down her cheeks.

Before Chessy could respond, Carlos stormed through the door, out of breath and clearly still rattled. “Theo—Matheo why’d you run away like that? I told you, I needed to talk to you!”

Mattia didn’t answer. He was too busy trying to read the expression on Chessy face, who stood frozen, staring at him with her wide smile and tearful eyes.

Carlos frowned at the odd tension in the room. "Chessy, why are you looking at Theo like you've never seen him before?"

Chessy’s voice broke as she answered, shaking her head as if to clear a fog. "No... I see him just like always. 7 pounds, 38 centimeters at birth... He’s still so beautiful." Her voice cracked as tears slipped down her cheeks. "Can I hug him?"

Before Carlos could respond, Chessy had already closed the distance and reach Mattia in a tight hug. Mattia, tried not to cry himself, because of his babysitter feelings.

When Chessy finally pulled back, her face was still wet with tears. She sniffled, attempting a shaky smile. "Do you want something special to eat? Or, I don’t know... Actually, never mind. I’ll just make everything we have in the kitchen!" Without waiting for an answer, Chessy disappeared, muttering to herself while wiping at her face.

Carlos watched the whole ordeal unfold, utterly baffled. With a shake of his head, he turned back to his son, now perched on the couch. "Theo, I need to talk to you about something important," he said, trying to shake off the oddness of Chessy’s behavior.

Mattia perked up. "Fine, what is it, Dad?"

Carlos hesitated, his nerves bubbling to the surface, but he pressed on. "What do you think about... Meredith being part of the family?"

Mattia tilted his head, considering the question. "Part of our family? Like, this family?

Carlos nodded a bit too forcefully, attempting to mask his apprehension. "Yes."

A wide smile broke across Mattia’s face. "I think that’s a wonderful idea, Dad! I’ve always wanted a big sister! You’re the best!"

Carlos blinked, momentarily stunned. "Really? I thought you might—"

Mattia cut him off with a cheerful laugh. "Are you kidding? This is amazing news I am going to have big sister! You’re such a good dad—"

But Carlos quickly interjected, shaking his head. "No, no. It’s not that. I... I’m not adopting her, Theo. I’m going to marry her."

Mattia shot to his feet so fast Carlos flinched. Mattia face was a mix of shock and something verging on betrayal. "Qu'allez-vous l'épouser?! Dad tu ne peux pas l'épouser! Comment pouvez-vous épouser une personne qui peut être mon frère?!" The words spilled from Mattia’s mouth like a torrent, his voice rising as he spoke. (translate: Are you going to marry her?! Dad, you can't marry her! How can you marry someone who might be my big sister?!)

Carlos froze, his jaw practically unhinged. "Theo! Were you just... speaking French?!"

Mattia eyes widened, and he quickly fumbled for an excuse. "Oh... uh, yeah. They taught us French at camp. No big deal." His father looked dubious but didn’t press the issue.

"Okay, okay, calm down baby" Carlos sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I'm sorry. Let's discuss this calmly, calmly and rationally.” Mattia replied his father

"Yeah we need to talk about this calmly, and in Spanish or English this time. Please."

Mattia shook his head, visibly upset. His voice wavered as he pointed an accusatory finger at his father. "You can’t marry her, Dad! It would ruining completely everything!"

And before Carlos could utter a single word of reassurance, Mattia run away from the room, tears streaming down his face. His father’s shouts followed him down the hall, but he didn’t stop. All Mattia could think about was finding a way to stop the wedding and figure out what to do next.

prev chap

#carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fluff #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #cs55 #f1 imagine

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kamiversee · 11 months ago

Text

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 40 || The Ringtone

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, fluff, & sexual tension.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.2k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——THESE WERE YOUR LAST thoughts before you dozed off. Unfortunately for you, your moment of sleeping lasted maybe twenty minutes before the sound of your phone ringing hit your ears.

You stirred awake, still lying on top of Choso who was dead to the world within his slumber. With careful movements, you were able to slip out of his arms and wobble over to your phone that was inside the pocket of the long disregarded jacket on the floor.

When you crouched down to get the device, it stopped ringing as if whoever was calling didn’t mean to and you let out a huff. Not only were your legs sore in some places but getting up to come get your phone only annoyed you since the call stopped before you could even see who it was.

As you look at your notifications, you still don’t see who it is that called you so you had to go to your recent call log to find out. As you do so, the first name is in red, indicating that you missed a call from the contact under the name Asshole-- also known as, Gojo Satoru.

You wanted to know why he called, even though he ended it before you could answer, so you went to call back. Only for your finger to click on the call prior to that… which happens to be Choso. You think you jump out of your skin when music begins to play from a nearby device.

‘We can go wherever you like.’

What the hell? Is that NewJeans?

‘Baby say the words and I’m down.’

Where was it coming from?

‘All I need is you by my side.’

Why is it so loud?

‘We can go wherever you like.’ ‘Now, where are you?’

Fuck, Choso’s going to wake up any second now.

‘What’s your ETA? What’s your ETA?’

Turn it off. Turn it off.

‘What’s your ETA, What’s your ETA-’

You had finally clicked the phone off, shutting your eyes and letting silence fill the air again.

Choso’s phone was sitting on a table nearby and that was the source of the sound. You kinda panicked when you heard it so instead of just ending the call from your phone which was literally in your hands, you rushed over to his and struggled to get it off.

It was a silly mistake of yours and now you feel so embarrassed that you accidentally just called Choso, who’s literally in the same room as you. Even so, you start smiling as you realize what his ringtone is for you.

Turning your head around to the man in question, you watch as he makes eye contact with you for less than a second before turning so that his back is to you. His face was red as a tomato and you’re pretty sure he never intended for you to know about that.

“Choso…” You murmur, watching his body move a bit as he sighs heavily.

“Shut up,” Choso grumbles.

Your smile widens and you make your way over to him, leaning over his resting frame and forcing your face into his peripheral vision. “Is that really your ringtone for me?” You whisper to the male.

His face is so red that even with the dim lighting you can see it. “...Y-Yeah.” Choso’s voice is so small and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this embarrassed.

“That’s so cute,” You chuckle, “I-”

He mumbles your name, “I don’t wanna talk about it…”

“But Cho, that’s adorable.” You gush anyway, “I don’t have ringtones for anyone and I’ve never known anyone to have one for me so…”

He just barely looks at you from the corner of his eyes, “It’s only like that cause’ it… it just lets me know it’s you calling…”

“Yeah, but you could’ve chosen any song,” You tease. Choso says something but it’s so low and mumbled that you genuinely couldn’t hear him. Leaning closer and pressing your chest to his back, you smile and talk softly, “Hm? What was that?”

His face is so hot and red with embarrassment. He can’t do this with you so he looks away from you and tries to ignore your body pressing against his.

“C’mon Cho, what’d you say?” You question gently.

“I…” He clears his throat, “I said… I uhm…” His face is so damn red, “I c-chose a song that makes me think of you, I dunno…” Choso explains with a sheepish shrug.

You’re trying not to tease him but he’s just so cute like this, “Awww, Chosoooo,” You coo to the man.

He grits his teeth and looks away from you again, “Please shut up…”

“Nooo, that’s so sweet.” You continue regardless.

He pouts, “I don’t like you right now…”

That makes you laugh, “Why? I just think you having a ringtone for me is cute. Do you have one for everyone?”

Choso is quiet for a second as he thinks. Then, he sighs, “No…”

Your eyes light up, “Wait so just me?”

“No.” He hums.

Of course, now you’re curious, “Who else?”

“Can we go back to sleep please?” Choso pleads, his face yet to cool down as embarrassment courses through him.

“Nope.” You utter, a large smile plastered across your face, “Who else do you have a ringtone for?”

He sighs, “I’m tired, baby. Can we please go back to sleep?”

“Nooo, tell me who else you have a ringtone for or I’ll go searching.” You say, moving a hand to caress his arm.

His eyes narrow even though he’s not looking at you, “You don’t even know my password…”

“It’s Yuji’s birthday.” You say simply.

He pauses, “How… How do you know that?”

“You told me.”

Choso’s brows pinch together, “When did I tell you my password?”

“I think it was one time when I asked to use your phone for something.” You recall with a slight shrug, “You just kinda’ gave it to me, how do you not remember?”

“I dunno but, to answer your question, I have a ringtone for my brothers too.” Choso finally tells you.

And again, you’re too wrapped up in your teasing to stop, “Awww really? What song-”

“Baby, please.” Choso whines, “I’m embarrassed enough as it is…”

You bite your lower lip, “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”

He takes a second to think but his words are falling out of his mouth before he processes them, “Will I still be cute when I flip you over and fuck you back to sleep?”

“Choso!” You huff, your eyes widening at the man.

His face scrunches up in a sassy manner, as if he didn't say anything wrong, “What?”

You pout, “...Why’re you so grumpy all of a sudden?”

“Told’ you I’m embarrassed.” Choso huffs.

You snicker, “Aww, you get angry when you’re embarrassed? Wait that’s so cute-”

“You have ten seconds to stop teasing me.” He warns.

“Or what?”

Choso moves a bit, his body shifting so that he’s lying on his back. You end up somewhat against his chest, your eyes on his as he meets your gaze, “I’m gonna’ put you in your place.”

You burst out laughing, “Put me in my place? Who, you?”

He scoffs, “You think I’m joking…”

Technically, you know he can but most times, Choso is too much of a switch to be one hundred percent dominant with you during sex. One minute he’s telling you to take it and then next he’s begging you to cum for him.

So, you chuckle, brushing off his threat entirely, “Choso you’re too loving to do something like that-”

And in a matter of seconds, you were underneath Choso with your hands pinned above your head. His face was still flushed from embarrassment but his grip on your wrists was as tight as ever.

How did he pull the entirety of your body onto the couch so fast? How did he flip over so quickly? How did he get your wrists crossed over and above your head like this? You genuinely have no idea. He moved so quickly that his touches were there and then gone in a matter of seconds.

You and Choso are both still bare, having never had the energy to put clothes back on ever since you both laid down so, the situation you were in could turn sexual in a matter of seconds if either of you wanted it to.

You swallow, “Choso-”

“Shut up,” He voices, his tone low and commanding for once. Earlier when he said that to you, it was in a joking and light way but right now he looks so serious and it’s… well it’s kinda hot.

So, your mouth shuts and you stare up at him with wide eyes.

Choso gazes down at you for a minute before saying something. “Was earlier not enough?” He questions, his voice so deep and husk all of a sudden.

“Earlier?” You hum innocently, still deciding to poke at him as you tilt your head.

He glares at you but his eyes are still loving, “Don’t act fuckin’ stupid.” Choso says. He sounds mean but it’s coming from a place of teasing and love so, although to someone else he may have seemed genuinely upset, right now he was just acting. “Did I not fuck you hard enough?” He asks.

You shrug a little, “I mean-”

“Actually, don’t answer that,” Choso interrupts. He then leans down to you and your breath hitches in your throat as his lips near yours, “If you can still walk then clearly I didn’t do my job properly.” He comments.

Your eyes widened but before you could say anything, his lips were pressing into yours. His tongue was warm as it slithered into your mouth, quickly licking up your taste and savoring it as he began making out with you. It was a sensual and slow kiss and Choso’s lips slotted so perfectly against your mouth.

For a brief moment, like a really brief moment, hell, barely even a second, his way of kissing you reminded you of Gojo. And you hated to compare them more than anything because there are different and separate things you like about each man.

Choso pulls away carefully and exhales, his breath hitting your lips as both of your eyes pry open. He hums your name and his tone gives you butterflies for some reason.

“Do you wanna go again?” Choso asks gently.

You stare, “My legs are already kinda’ sore…”

“They’ve been worse,” He comments.

“Cho…” You frown.

“Okay well…” Choso starts smiling a little before he even gets the words out. “Can I at least eat you out?”

You give the man a blank stare. Never has there been a time where Choso gave you head and you weren’t left with numb legs, a face wet from tears, and your voice gone after losing it to your moaning.

“Choso that’s basically the same as you putting your dick inside me.” You huff out.

That goes to his ego a bit, “Is it really?”

“And once you go down it’s hard to get you back up…” You point out, sighing.

“I know I know but…” He drops to your neck and kisses you there, “I haven’t tasted you in so long…” Choso whispers, his hands releasing your pinned ones as he moves his lips to your collarbone, “Just one lick, baby…”

You give him a firm look, “That’s the same as saying just the tip and we both know it’s never just the tip.”

“Five minutes, princess…” He pleads, his tastebuds eager for you at the thought alone, “Jus’ let me eat you out for five minutes.”

“No, Choso.” You decline.

He pouts.

You chuckle, “And see? I told you that you were too loving to put me in my place-”

“Alright, bet.” Choso scoffs.

You smirk and look at him, that slight smile of yours fading when he starts bending your legs up. “C-Choso, wait seriously, I’m already sore.” You say with a chuckle.

His touch softens but he doesn’t stop, planting quick kisses down your stomach. “I’ll be gentle then.”

“Baby, c’mon,” You comment, the nickname making his cock twitch.

“You’re making this harder for me…” Choso whispers with a shake of his head, “Literally.”

“Choso, I’m tired.” Your words are half true. Technically, you’re never one to decline Choso of giving you head, he is the best at it after all.

“So tell me to stop.” He says, pausing in his movements to properly give you an out, “Say it.” He urges.

You hesitated for a second, obviously loving it when he gives you head but, you had just told yourself you needed a break, and allowing Choso to do this wouldn’t help. “Stop,” You whisper.

Of course, he doesn’t hesitate to obey. “Oh, you’re serious?” Choso comments as he starts moving. The man shifts your legs around and he goes to sit on his heels.

You watch as in a blink of an eye, Choso starts running his hands up and down your legs, moving to massage them. “Choso, you don’t have to-”

“No no, I was being pushy just now so, lemme’ do this to make up for it,” He tells you.

“I…” You don’t even know what to say to that because it’s clear he feels bad. In his mind, he should’ve stopped as soon as you told him no but he kept trying to convince you and that makes him upset with himself.

A sigh is let out from your mouth as you just lay there and watch Choso massage your legs, his eyes calm as he does so.

“Oh, I actually meant to ask,” Choso starts up, looking over to you, “Why’d you call my phone anyways?”

Your skin tenses within his palms but you think he believes that’s from his massaging, “Uh, I pressed the wrong thing.” That reminds you that you needed to figure out what Gojo called you for-

Wait no, maybe you don’t need to figure that out. Maybe what you need is to just relax under Choso’s touch until you fall asleep again and then in the morning you head your separate ways as you take some time to collect yourself.

“Pressed the wrong thing? Who were you trying to call, then?” Choso asks curiously. He’s far too quick to put two and two together. You’re hesitant on telling him and he picks up on that, “...You were gonna call him, weren’t you?” He assumes.

“N-Not for the reasons you might be assuming,” You rush out, worried about where this conversation is going to go.

Unlike you, Choso’s not worried at all. Especially since he knows how to keep himself together and think in a rational way, “Tell me the reason then.” He requests, quickly adding on a, “...So that I don’t assume,” So that he doesn’t sound upset.

“He called me,” You murmur, “And I went to call back.”

You didn’t know it but your honesty alone was enough for Choso’s heart to expand in ways he couldn’t express. If you had made up some excuse or tried to change the subject he probably would’ve been hurt but the way you just tell him everything is so heartwarming to him.

Unbeknownst to you, Choso has enough liars in his life to deal with so he truly appreciates it when someone’s honest with him, “Are you still going to?” He questions.

“Uh, I dunno, maybe I’ll just text him and ask instead.” You shrug.

Choso’s eyes soften for a moment and he finds himself speaking from the genuine kindness in his heart instead of a place of insecurity and jealousy like he had earlier on, “You should call him.”

You scoff slightly, “Why?”

He shrugs and looks away from you, “Cause’ like… if I were him, I think I… I’d want you to call back.”

“Choso…” You smile a little at how mature he’s being about this, “I thought you didn’t care about him or how he feels?”

“I don’t but…” He swallows, “I care about you and… you care about him so, I just think instead of stressing yourself more, you should just call him back and find out what he wanted. You texting him is only done in courtesy of me, which I don’t want.”

“Oh…” You hum.

“So, yeah…” Choso sighs and returns his gaze to you, “Call him.”

You bat your eyelashes at him, “R-Right now?”

“Whenever you’re ready angel,” He laughs, “I’m not rushing you, I’m just trying to give advice I guess…”

“Thank you.”

“Mhm…” He nods and then redirects his focus to soothing your legs whilst changing the subject, “Anyways, uh… What are your plans for the break?”

Self-isolation and peace of mind for once. But you’re not going to say it that bluntly.

“Uhm,” You pull your lower lip into your mouth in thought. “I think I want some time to uh… focus on myself.”

Choso nods, “Yeah, you need that.”

“That doesn’t bother you?” You blurt out, having felt like telling Choso you want time for yourself might hurt him since in his mind he might feel like he gave you two months to do so already.

“Why would it?” Choso asks, almost as if he’s offended you thought it would, “You have to pick between two guys and your heart is all over the place, if you didn’t say you were gonna’ take a break I was going to suggest one.”

That eases you in more ways than one, “Really?”

“Well, I would’ve liked it if we spent time together during this break but, I think you need the mental rest more than time spent with me.” He says, his voice filled with care.

Your lips curl into a thankful smile, “Aw, Choso…”

“You don’t have to gush about it, I’m just being honest.” He chuckles, shrugging it off like it’s no big deal, “And hey, whenever you do want to see me or talk to me or whatever, you can call me.”

“I can…?” You blink, wondering if he forgot how he told you not to do so.

Choso grins, “Of course, baby.”

“No, I mean like,” You raise a brow, “Are you gonna pick up this time?”

“Yes.” He replies, “I’ll never ignore a call or text from you again.”

“M’kay… I think I… I think I’ll do that when I’m ready.”

“Okay, good.” Choso smiles, “Take as long as you need.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

And taking as long as you need is precisely what you did.

Calling Choso or texting him once during the remainder of your winter break might’ve been nice but honestly, as soon as you stopped thinking about him, Gojo, and the list, you were already in a mindset of peace.

What exactly did you do for yourself in that time?

You went shopping, naturally. You bought Shoko some things because it simply felt nice to see the smile on her face whenever you gifted something to her spontaneously.

She never even questioned where you disappeared to on Christmas day and you assume Gojo must’ve told her. Even if he didn’t, you still adored the peace of mind you had not having to explain yourself for once.

On New Year’s Eve and day, you and Shoko had a little pizza night-- just the two of you, and it was perfect. You couldn’t have asked for something better. According to her, she was just as tired of the guys as you were so it all worked out perfectly.

Then, into the new year, you were sure to inform Gojo that you wanted some time for yourself before you focused on Nanami. Similar to Choso, the man didn’t argue with it and actually insisted you take your time.

Well… just not too much time. There’s no time limit on the list but, there was a clock still ticking, he just hadn’t told you about it. Instead, he hints at it when he tells you to take a few weeks to relax but try to at least seduce Nanami before the school year ends.

You thought this was just him being sarcastic and playful like always so you didn’t think much but, Gojo was actually serious when he said that.

Even so, it’s about time you stopped thinking about him or the list in general. You’ll figure that all out later.

As of right now, you are in the middle of calmly searching for a job again. It’s been months since you looked thoroughly, especially since the money Gojo pays you has been keeping you pretty well occupied. But, with only one person left on the list, Gojo can’t pay you forever.

So, you need to start planning ahead and this is how you do that.

You started by thinking back to what you told Sukuna about being a therapist and wondered if you could actually land a job in a clinic or agency. It’d be fun for you to work with people and their mental health, that’s what brings you joy in terms of your career.

With that, you took hours and days to do your research and you were pleasantly surprised to learn the fact that your current university was offering a pad internship for counseling. And holy hell was that perfect, this is an internship you’d seen earlier on that year but at the time, they had no available programs.

And now, you see the option to apply for it. Of course, you didn’t hesitate to get out a premade application that was constructed for this purpose exactly. But just as you went to go submit said application, you wondered if you should wait.

If you start now, it could interfere with the time you need to seduce Nanami and although you don’t want to think about anything regarding the list, you’re forced to when it’s somewhat time-sensitive.

A sigh leaves you as you think about it and you eventually come to the decision that you’ll just wait. Hopefully, the position stays open and if not, you think you visit an old professor or two and ask for guidance on where to get employment.

They’ve offered it in the past but you just never felt like accepting their advice or assistance to now.

Even so, as you now sit with a plan made out, you think you’re relaxing into your position in life. When you’re not wasting your time thinking about silly men who complicate everything for you, life feels a whole lot simpler.

You have your worries and doubts about things of course but, even with that, worrying about a job is a lot better than trying to figure out if you want Gojo or Choso. The matters of the heart are not for you, hence why you’re a psychology major-- the brain is just so much simpler sometimes.

And emphasis on the sometimes because you can not figure out how the hell Gojo Satoru’s brain works for the life of you but, that’s beside the point. His brain only operates in certain ways because of the swaying his emotions and heart have on him, a lot of which you won’t understand because he’s keeping stuff from you.

You shake all your thoughts of Gojo away. It’s annoying how quickly you find yourself thinking about him or Choso.

And it happened quite often during this little metal break of yours. You find your thoughts drifting to them and your memories with them often. You could be performing the simplest of tasks and all of a sudden you’re remembering how much of an idiot Gojo is when he’s dancing with you or teasing you.

Then your mind alternates right back to Choso any time you do something like watch a movie. Suddenly, you’d be recalling times when he’s asleep on your chest and how relaxed his handsome face is. Or you’d think about the way his eyes light up whenever you say something intelligent and how keen he is on paying attention to what you say.

Damn. Is this what it’s like to fall in love? Is that what this is? Is that why you can’t get them out of your head no matter how hard you try?

Hell, you definitely think of Gojo’s confession to you at least twice a day. You wouldn’t say you prefer his over Choso’s but it was definitely more heartfelt. Even though, you’re pretty sure that was because of the tears.

Or… maybe it wasn’t. Perhaps Gojo’s confession was more heartwrenching because there’s so much more to it. Not to mention, Gojo had a longer time to keep his feelings for you hidden, there was more time for him to marinate and sit inside him until he expressed them.

Whereas Choso only met you a few months ago and by the time he realized he was in love with you, he was already hearing you tell him that you couldn’t be in a relationship with him. That’s why he waits. He wholeheartedly hopes and prays that one day you’ll wake up and reciprocate his feelings.

There are a lot of differences between the two but if there’s one thing that remains the same throughout… it’s the fact that no matter what you say or do, and no matter how hard you try not to, you are steadily falling in love.

The question would then remain; to whom are you falling for? And are they going to catch you when you do?

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

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agi-ppangx · 1 year ago

Text

side quest (lee minho x gn!reader)

fluff, no warnings, shy mimo !!!

an: based on this lovely request !! i had so much fun writing this and i really like how it turned out, so i hope you'll enjoy it as well<3 please remember that feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽

“excuse me? hi,” you heard someone’s voice behind you as you were collecting your stuff from the desk. when you looked over your shoulder you noticed a guy from your classes who sat in the back row and always did great at exams. you smiled shyly with rosy cheeks and tilted your head a bit in a silent question.

“hi?” you responded hesitantly, desperately trying to remember his name. It was something starting with an m maybe…?

“i’m minho, we haven’t really spoken but um…” he said quietly, fidgeting with his bracelet. minho, right. “i noticed the badges on your bag and i- i wanted to ask if you play that game?” he finally mumbled, looking at you. you noticed his ears were as red as a tomato and it actually made your heart beat a bit faster - he was just too cute like that.

“oh, um- yeah, i do,” you said, glancing at your bag with a smile. “i’m not that good, though. i mostly play for the vibes, y’know, there’s not really anyone who could teach me all of those complicated strategies and stuff,” you huffed, lowering your head, and you didn’t notice as minho’s face lit up with hope at your words. his eyes sparkled as he watched you carefully adjust one of the badges and it made him a bit bolder to speak up again.

“maybe we could play together sometimes? i could teach you some things,” he suggested and it made you smile wider than before. you raised your head, looking minho in the eyes and it made him a little flustered, but he couldn’t give up now. not when he finally spoke to you, after so many times when he saw you in class and wished you would notice his curious gaze whenever you would adjust your badges as usual. minho thought this subtle habit of yours was oddly heartwarming, the way you always took care of them made him wonder if you would also take care of someone the same way.

“sure, i’d love that,” you said with a huge grin and minho finally felt like he could breathe again. he exhaled loudly, earning a soft giggle from you.

“can i maybe have your number, then?” he asked shyly, handing you his phone, and you smirked.

“be careful, because i'm about to think that the game was just a cover to get my number,” you giggled again, getting bolder, and you typed your number quickly as his eyes widened.

“no! no, i- you just seem really cool and we play the same game and-” he started rambling in pure panic, so you playfully rolled your eyes and placed a tiniest peck on his cheek to make him stop overthinking your joke. you could see his mind go haywire and it actually made your heart ache a little, because you didn’t want the poor boy to get upset.

“don’t worry, i wouldn’t mind anyway. i’ll wait for a text from you then, yeah?” you asked with a smile and minho could only nod, too shocked to comprehend the entire situation. you waved at him and walked away, leaving minho with a pounding heart and burning cheeks.

you flirting with him was something he didn’t even dare to think would happen, but he kind of hoped it could lead to something more. it became like a side quest for him and minho was more than happy to devote himself to it if the winning prize would be your heart.

taglist !

@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby @skzhoes @minhosbitterriver @astraystayyh @xichien @linospuddin

#skz #stray kids #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids lee know #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #lee know headcanons

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iitsarss · 5 months ago

Text

╰ㅤ₊ㅤ๋࣭ㅤreader x gr13f3r　 confession　 ᠀

ꔛ word count: 753⠀╱⠀established friendship + crush 。

(¬_¬")⠀⠀⠀note ⠀╱⠀my ass cannot write smth more than 780 words long erm...yeah....more griefer i love him sm sm sigh i want to smooch him till he can't say anything comprehensible,,also yeah i see he doing this sht like yeah idk,,edit uh,changed 1 thing cause i just wrote the same thing again lol

Griefer was the epitome of immaturity and insensitivity, a walking disaster who thrived on chaos and violence. He relished in commanding others with brute force, going as far as having his father forcibly extract the Venomshank for him.

Now, here he was, standing by the very river where you two had first met as toddlers, struggling to get out the cheesiest words he could muster. It was surreal—how could something so simple be so difficult? He had even watched movies to prepare for this moment, which he would never admit to anyone—except maybe his gorilla pet, the only one privy to the embarrassing secret that he had a massive crush on you. But now, Griefer was a complete mess, unable to string a coherent sentence together without stuttering like a fool. He, of all people, blushing like some schoolgirl confessing to her first crush—it was mortifying!

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Griefer finally blurted out, “L00K, PUNK—I, UH—I L1K3 Y0U A L0T… 3RM… CAN W3 G0 0UT S0M3T1M3? W3 C0ULD G0 T0 TH3 ARCAD3 1F Y0U WANT—N0T THAT 1 CAR3 0R ANYTH1NG… UH, 3RM, CAN W3 HANG 0UT—L1K3 A DAT3? N0, N0T A DAT3! JU5T A HANG 0UT! Y3AH, THAT!”

The words came out in a jumbled rush, faster than he intended, leaving Griefer standing there, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might leap out of his chest,what was he even thinking? Calling you to come to that place? Too cheesy! Stuttering in front of you? Pathetic! And just brushing off his attempt in asking you out? God- Embarrassing! He waited, every nerve in his body tense as he anticipated your response, but when nothing came, he panicked even more, brushing it off with forced bravado.

“WA1T, F0RG3T THAT—1T W4S N0TH1NG—HA! J-JU5T A J0K3, ALR1GHT PUNK? JU5T A J0K3.”

Awkward silence hung in the air as Griefer mentally berated himself for how disastrously wrong everything had gone. What had he been thinking, bringing you here of all places? The whole scenario was too cheesy, and his stuttering made him feel like an absolute idiot—God, could this get any more humiliating?

For a moment, he stared at the ground, too embarrassed to meet your eyes. The smile on your face only made him feel worse, as if you were mocking him silently. His palms grew sweaty—though he convinced himself it was just the heat of the jungle—and he took another deep breath, trying to muster the courage to speak again.

“L00K, PUNK, 1—”

But before he could finish, you gently placed a hand on his cheek, and he froze, blushing furiously. What were you doing? He stared at you in bewilderment, his heart skipping a beat as he took in how stunning you looked up close. No, he couldn’t think like that—he was already embarrassed enough.

“PUNK, WHAT AR3 Y—”

His words were cut off as your lips suddenly met his, and Griefer’s brain short-circuited. Panic surged through him, and if he could blush any deeper, he would’ve turned into a human tomato. What was he supposed to do? He’d never kissed anyone before—not properly, anyway. The closest he’d come was a peck on the cheek from a girl back in high school, which didn’t count for much. But now, here you were, the person he actually liked,the person he actually thought of without any violent thoughts before going to sleep,kissing him, and all he could think was how utterly unprepared he was.

Slowly, as if moving through a dream, Griefer raised a hand to your hair, his fingers awkwardly threading through it before trailing down to your cheek. Okay, maybe he was getting the hang of this. His other hand found its way to your hip, pulling you closer, and he tried—really tried—not to mess this up. Which,spoiler!, of course, he did.

After what felt like an eternity—an agonizing, yet heavenly eternity—you both pulled apart. Griefer stared at you, his mind reeling. That… was actually a good kiss, especially for his first time. But then reality set in, and the nerves came rushing back. He had just kissed you—no, YOU had kissed HIM! He always thought he’d be the one to make the first move, and now he felt even more stupid. Who could blame him, though? He was just a hopeless guy in love.

Taking a deep, trembling breath, he looked at you, his hands still slightly shaky, and with all the courage he could muster, he blurted out one last request:

“C-CAN W3 K1SS AGA1N?”

#block tales #blocktales x reader #x reader #roblox #griefer roblox #griefer #griefer x reader #griefer blocktales #blocktales griefer #block tales griefer #⟡　　ars' writings　𓈒　 𓉸

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neonovember · 2 years ago

Note

hiiii

could you write carmy x reader where she’s a high school friend and carmy always had a crush on her (but he thought she had a crush on mikey) ???? like maybe richie brings her up, and that she’s still in town and SINGLE and carmy gets red like a tomato and ??? richie makes her visit the beef and candy almost has a heart attack?? idk give me some in love carmen !!

pretty pleaseee and thank u

so I got this request and I immediately thought of swim by chase atlantic, and specifically the line that goes;

“I’ve been drowning for a minute, your body keeps pulling me in”

And holy shit if that isn’t Carmen in his denial-in-love with a long time friend era, I don't know what is. Carmen tries too hard to forget you, but you've marked permanently, you've ruined him for anyone else so can you blame him for waiting for you all this time?

Seriously though this request was so good! I got a bit carried away and turned into a 2 part series that may or may not have drabbles added to the universe…I really hope this isn't just a load of word vomit you don't want to read lmao. I just love their dynamic so much, and also FRIDAY DINNERS AT THE BEEF IS CANON OKAY.

Golden Boy

part one of 2

warnings: miscommunication (i know i'm sorry), friends to lovers, carmen and the reader have horrible communication skills and don't know how to call, angst, anxiety

a/n: part two will be up hopefully tomorrow so look out! it may or may not include a smut scene 😈

p.s, listen to swim whilst reading this you'll thank me later

You sat hunched in the tight enclosure of the classroom desk chairs, the once loud conversations fluttering across the huddled groups of classmates and friends that stood against tables and chairs now coming to a standstill.

The air of anxious trepidation falls across the atmosphere of the damp classroom, the windows that had been opened to let the air in felt thin as you and the rest of the students you had known for half a decade waited for that familiar ring of the bell.

The bell that would solidify your last day in this classroom, in these run down halls, in the school you had first stumbled into anxious and oblivious at thirteen.

Your heart ached at the nostalgia of it, and you can't bear to cast your gaze to your friends who had begun to sniffle, like they were holding back tears, the grandfather clock your geography teacher insisted on keeping ticked on as it always did, and whilst you had spent years burning holes through the glass, willing for it to go faster, your one dying wish is for the seconds to tick by in minutes.

You weren’t ready, it ran straight through you, all this time leading up, from when you had first learnt your desire to pursue architecture till the moment you finished that last sentence on your final exams, you felt you would be filled with joy at the sound of your true departure into adulthood and college.

And yet, you felt like a kid again, learning how to ride a bicycle without the training wheels, trying to reach the fifth monkey bar, falling headfirst into the dirt ground of the field when you had thought you were more flexible then you truly were.

You didn’t want to leave, you didn't want to leave this place, this place of memories and friends and people you knew and loved. And it was as if God was listening, cause the resounding echo of the school bell rang through the halls and it was as if he said ‘fuck you anyway’.

You gather the haphazard books and papers laying across your desk, you had purposefully delayed packing in order to waste as much time in this memory as possible, before adulthood would take it away and make it something of the past. You hear your friends calling your name, and you tell them to go ahead as you make your way to your teachers desk.

“Hey Mr Jefferson” You say to your teacher has begun to bid goodbye to the leaving students

Your teacher looks up at you with a tight smile, sadness washes over the wrinkles and creases of her features, her auburn hair falling in short waves at her shoulder and her olive lipstick wearing down. You have to swallow to stop the tears from dropping. Your Geography teacher, whilst not teaching Art, had been the catapult to realizing your fascination with Architecture and design. She had even helped tell your parents, who had been set on the idea of you going into Law or Medicine or anything other than creative arts.

“You’ll do amazing, I believe it because I see how hard you try. Don’t look back at this place, leave with the door wide open and come back only when you want to design me a house” Your Teacher replies with a grin, and before you can reply shes shuffling through her drawers, before pulling out a sketchbook that has been aged and stained with use over the years.

“What’s this?” You ask, twisting the book in your hand, it was good quality, despite being old, it felt like an heirloom.

“It’s one of my sketchbooks I had during college, maybe some of my late night sketches fuelled by coffee and donuts might inspire you”

“I couldn't possible-”

“Yes you could, hell whatever you create will probably be 10 x greater than whatever is in there” Your teacher cuts you off with a chuckle, and you hug the notebook tight against your chest before hugging her goodbye.

You step into the familiar walls of your high school hallways, crowds of seniors running to find their friends and hug them for possibly the last time, test papers and report cards left trampled on the ground, it's chaos, but you love it and the sight almost pulls tears down your waterline.

You walk towards your locker, before you recognize the familiar wisps of blond curls catch your eyesight. Carmen. You considered him one of your closest friends, bonding together over a love of game** and your equal hatred of your Period 4 Calculus teacher.

Carmen didn't have much when I came to be friends, and after he met you, it didn't really get to him anymore, he had you now, and you were more than enough. Over the years you had gotten close to every part of Carmen's life, Mickey, Richie, Sugar, they were all people you regarded as family.

But there was something unsaid between the both of you, it was like there was something beyond friendship, but the embers had just gathered and had left unignited.

He’s gathering his things from his locker, shoving them into a bag in that messy way he is, and he slams the locker with a jolt.

You're standing stationary in the middle of the hallway, classmates and other seniors running by you in confusion, your friends calling your name annoyed, but it's all muffled, it all doesn't matter because it's Carm and god your heart aches so bad.

You see Carmen and he sees you, stopping a few meters away from you, and a moment of recognition washes over him as he gazes with those cerulean blues. There's grief in the way you look at each other, tears streaming down your cheek as you try to smile at him, realising this might be the last time you see him, forever, off to an Art school in New York, leaving him behind. You feel like your heart is being ripped from your chest and he shakes his head, his eyebrows scrunching up as he steps closer so that he’s only a whisper from you.

He brings his hand up, brushing a strand and tucking in behind your ear, eyes strained as he wipes your tears away painfully. He moves closer, so that his breath is against your neck and whispers

“Thought you told me you'd punch me in the stomach if I cried on the last day” Carmen whispers into your eyes with a grin that breaks through the tears that cause his eyes to swirl in colour's of waves.

His words make you laugh and cry at the same time, and you shake your head as you reach for his arm, and playfully hit your stomach with it. Carmen rests it against your waist, looking up to you in a pained expression, his eyes shift to the notebook grasped tight in your hands

“New sketchbook? That..doesn't look new” Carmen says, turning his head to examine the old book more closely.

“One of Mrs Jefferson’s, her sketches are..their fucking amazing” You sigh, running your hand across the folded spine of the sketch book.

“Thought teachers weren't meant to have favourites” Carmen shoots out, a playful grin on his lips

“Hmm, well they aren't supposed to tell you exactly” You banter with a giggle, you flick through the pages of the book, half drawn sketches in grey lead and ballpoint, Carmen tracing his fingers gently across the ingrained lines and shades.

“God you're something, you know that?” Carmen says, all of a sudden, and when you look up you realise he’s been staring at you the entire time.

“Bear..” You breathe out.

“I don't know how I'm going to-, I, it's all so much” You exhale, waving your arms around this place that has held so many memories, so much of your past kept in the creaks and cracks of plastered walls and lockers

“You're the only person in this goddamn place that's going to make something out of themselves, I bet my entire life on it Bug. You're going to do amazing, in that big city, you’re going to show em’' Carmen replies, grasping you against his touch tight. You look up at him, trying to memorise every dip and curve of his features, the curl of his hair that shone honey in the sun, those eyes that were always searching, and the small cut on his forehead where he fell off his skateboard that one summer evening.

“Don’t say goodbye”

“Okay” Your tongue feels like deadweight in your mouth. what if i never see you again?

“You say goodbye and it's the end. Just..don’t” I can't breathe carmy.

You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, pressing your nose into his shirt to smell the scent of patchouli and cigarettes he always carried, you want to tell him to come with you, to pack an overnight bag and run with you forever, but the words don’t taste right when you try to speak and you see yourself letting him go, and turning away with a shaky step.

Turn back Carmen whispers, so softly that only the gods above and the wind around him can hear it

You feel an urge to turn back, it speaks to you from within, and before you can stop yourself, your neck cranes, turning your body to get one last look at your golden boy before time would take him forever.

Time would age him into a memory forever.

Carmen feels this tension leave his shoulders at the same time his heart shatters, you will find each other again, even if it was in another universe, where you're sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, going over groceries together with the afternoon light casting its glow across you. He will find you, he will find you and he won’t let go this time.

“Honestly Ma, it’s fine, I’ll get the movers to come in a little early”. You groan into the phone pressed to your ear, papers and unresolved bills are left scattered across your dining room table and you have this itch that's begun to turn chronic somewhere you can’t reach.

You take a moment to look around your apartment, now barren of furniture, and filled instead with boxes of badly organised stuff you've accumulated over the years. This place, albeit small, had been your home ever since you stepped out of the yellow cabbed taxi on your first day in New York, and whilst it wasn't pretty, you felt a pang of guilt leaving it all behind. These walls had seen you through it all, the late night study cram’s, the breakdowns, the accomplishments, the one night stands. You'd miss her, but maybe you were just a nostalgic person.

You’ve made a life in New York, but you felt misplaced, like pieces of yourselves were scattered across the states. Chicago kept a part of you, and it was only when you had gotten the chance to move back home, did it click. You missed your city. And you had cut your lease and emptied out the last of your savings without a second thought.

Now all that was left was tying up loose ends and making the trip down. It was funny, in a way. You had run to New York to pursue architecture, and it brought you back to the very same place you had left, there was a certain trepidation when you thought of Chicago, it held so much of your past, in its city streets and evergreen trees, and you don’t know if you were quite ready to face those memories again.

It still smelled the same. You itch your nose, sniffling against the blooming scent of cocoa and caramel from the Chicago roads, all this time, and all that you can tell is how it still smelt like maple leaves and chocolate. It was comforting, and it felt like the warm embrace of a childhood friend that had stayed sitting on the corner of your suburban street corner all this time.

“Thank you Mae, really, I got the call last minute in New York to come back here and if it weren't for you, I’d be moving back into my old bedroom at my parents” You reply, gratitude filling every word. It was true, your friend had swooped in the second you called, fixing you up with a lease and an apartment with her realtor links. She came in a clutch, and she had made you promise to never leave her again in exchange.

“Oh shush doll, of course. This is probably payment for all the times I’ve crashed at yours anyway” Mae winks, the bracelets on her wrist clinking against each other. She didn't look like a typical realtor, more like a bohemian solo-traveller with her filly skirts and auburn red hair.

“I’m not going to let a degree transform my entire wardrobe, my clothes are antiques, their heirlooms, they tell a story”

She had told you once, one late night on the rooftop of your New York apartment, sipping cheap wine and passing a blunt between you both. You wish you had known yourself as much as she did then.

She had visited you a couple times in New York, coming up for work and spending the time at yours instead of spending thousands on an Airbnb, but it had been a while since you've seen her, and all of a sudden you remember how much you missed her laugh.

“I’ve got some time to spend before it’s all hand on deck” You reply, placing the last of your boxes onto the empty wooden floor of the living room.

“Oh yeah? Can’t believe you’re gonna design a whole building on Michigan Av’, your a fucking inspiration Bug” Mae sighs in adoration, and you giggle, the feeling of embarrassment filling you at the mention of your reason back home.

You never got used to the praise and adoration you received over the years, despite your many accolades and awards, you still felt like that hopelessly broke architect student giving up lunch to pay rent. You didn’t remember when things started to change. When did things start to change?

“You know, if you’ve got time, you should check out the Farmers Market near River North” Mae replies, whilst flicking through her phone

“The one on Division Street?” You reply, you had a faint memory of the long strip of stalls filled with fresh produce, food and the rest of the little trinkets that were sold since you were born on the pleated table cloth of sheltered booths.

“That’s the one, this guy named Samson? Makes the best fucking bearclaw in the entire United States. Tell him you're a friend of mine and he'll hook you up…you know since you can't afford it” Mae replies playfully, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.

“Yeah yeah, you hook up with him or something?” You poke back, Mae had the tendency to know everyone in Chicago, from the mailman to the old woman you’d see feeding the bids on a park bench.

“Yeah, actually I did. Not like you could relate, how long has it been, hm?” Mae replies, stepping forward to whisper down at your pants.

“I’m so sorry she hasn't been taking care of you. What are you, mummify her?” Mae looks up from her crouched position with a raised eyebrow.

“Ugh, you know I've been too busy to think about that. She’s gonna have to be patient” You reply, you don’t want to think about how long it has actually been, since you've had any type of release. But the tension has begun to weigh on your shoulders as time went on and you fear it might become something you can’t ignore.

You begin to move some boxes into your bedroom, thanks to your planning your large furniture such as your bed and coach, had been moved into the apartment before the rest of the things had got here, so at least you wouldn't be sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Changing into a pair of dark jeans and a short sleeve top, you loop an embroidered handbag onto your shoulder.

“So, you coming?” You call to Mae, who’s begun to fill your fridge with the groceries she's swung by with.

“Sure would Bug, but got a call to come in. I’ll come by again later this evening though?” Mae replies, with a grunt as she lifts the 2 litre bottle of milk onto one of the drive shelves.

“Yes please, I’m dying for a glass of wine”

“And a blunt” Mae replies, snickering at the way you roll your eyes at her.

Mae offers to drop you off, but you wave her off, telling her you wanted to see a little more of your hometown. You needed some fresh air that wasn't the coffee and smoke scent of the New York streets.

The walk to the Farmers market was a short one, but you felt like you were wading through a current. By the way the memories of your past began to resurface as you passed the streets and shops. Every corner holds a part of you, and you have to rush by your old school to stop the pang of pain that surprises you. You weren't an emotional person, but god it was almost as if you were hanging by a thread the second you touched down on Chicago.

What was causing this? You felt like you were holding your breath as you stepped through the fallen autumn leaves marking the sidewalk, the gentle sun on your back, what were you waiting for?

You tear yourself from your thoughts momentarily when you catch the looming buildings that had been built on ions ago, the infrastructure of Chicago still enamoured you, in a way that couldn't be beaten by even New York’s impossible skyscrapers.

There was a charm to it, each of the buildings felt like you were stepping into a different decade, they had been the stepping stones to a lot of the infrastructure and architecture that spread into other cities. You felt like you were at the start of it all every time your eyes trailed across the facade and arcades of the century old stone buildings.

Without realising, you had finally made it to the Farmers Market, the constant stream of people coming in and out with boxes of produce or hauling wooden antiques with very audible grunts. You can’t stop the smile stretching your face as you step through the embroidered banner at the front of the street.

Despite the many different stalls and food around you, you don't feel overstimulated. This was your home, you felt like you belonged, like a name scratched into wet cement, remaining ingrained for years no matter the seasons that came.

You go over the haphazard list of things you wanted to look for in your mind, but you're caught off guard by a stall that seemed to be huddled by patrons. You step towards it, and as people move aside you see the blooming flowers and carefully wrapped banquets in woven wooden baskets to the side of the stall. A short woman with light brown curls is standing at the front, taking down orders with a grin, whilst a rather tall man behind her makes quick work to wrap delicate orders into soft brown parchment paper tied with string.

And all of a sudden the need to buy pink tulips becomes your first priority. The woman at the front looks familiar, but you can't quite put your finger on where you've seen her, but as you walk up to the front her face morphs into familiar as she looks up at you in surprise.

“As I live and breathe” She says your name with a screech and it's her voice that pulls her name to your mouth. Adeline, a close friend from senior year who’d taught you how to crochet and pick a lock.

“Bug? How've you been? What brings you back to town?” Ade replies after telling the man behind her your order without you even saying a thing.

“Tulips, pink ones right?” Ade grins, and you have to let out a chuckle at how you haven't changed even a little.

“Got invited to join in designing a new building on Michigan Avenue, so I'll be back for a while-”

“Michigan Avenue? Holy shit Bug! You’re making moves, knew you always were special” Adeline replies with a gushing smile and you rush to reply with the same adoration

“Are you kidding, look at this line” You motion to the increasing line of people forming at Adeline's stall.

“People love their flowers” Adeline replies with a shrug before you shake your head vehemently

“No, they love your flowers, and for good reason, look at these” You gush, pressing your face into the bundle of tulips that had been handed to you.

“They only look that good because Henry's so good at wrapping them” Adeline replies with a laugh, her eyes flicking to the brown haired man dressed in corduroy behind her. A look passes between them that tells you there was more than love between them.

“Henry huh?” You reply with a grin, and the man is quick to introduce himself, and you don’t ignore the cold press of an encrusted band on his ring finger as he shakes your hand with a soft smile.

And it's as if Adeline reads your mind and she slips her left hand in yours, looking up at you with a teary grin.

“Yes, yes I know, I should've called, and I’m so sorry-”

You press yourself against her, leaning over the stall to wrap your arms around her. You whisper words of congratulation, shutting down any words that hinted at you being mad at her.

It wasn't her fault, it should be you she's mad at, you hadn’t really made that much of an effort to keep in contact with your friends back at home, and the reality of it weighed on you heavy now, you had missed so many milestones of your loved ones, all to chase your own dreams in New York.

You felt like you were constantly playing catch up, and you couldn't lie when a strange feeling crept up at the thought of your friends moving on with life. You were so incredibly happy for Adeline, and you were even more elated when she had told you of the Wedding in April that you had to come to.

But that didn't stop that same strange feeling of being behind everyone else, you had spent so long climbing the ladder to wear what you wear now, relationships and love weren't even a thought, you filled your nights with studying and drawing and the occasional fling, but nothing more. And now doubts had begun to creep in, had you missed out?

Watching everyone around you get married and have kids whilst you were still drawing buildings in that same sketchbook your teacher had given you 8 years ago. You’re not looking as you walk past the many stalls of the Farmers market, and it is your thoughts again that causes you to accidentally stumble into the hard muscle of a man back. You feel yourself falling, before arm's reach out, grabbing you quickly to stop you from ending flat on your face.

You breath out a sigh of relief, shaking a head at your clumsiness

“God, ‘m so sorry, I’ve just been in my head, I wasn’t looking where i was going-”

“Holy fuck” Your quick to spit an apologetic thanks, you haven't even looked up to see who you've dubbed into, and when the sound of surprise meets your ease you look up, only to be remain stone faced with your mouth left open.

“Richie?” You say, the shock of it is still in the air. You hadn't expected to see him in Chicago, or maybe you did and it was sooner than you thought.

“When did you get back? Holy shit, thought we wouldn't see you again” Richie replies with a smile

“Yeah uh, came down for some work for a little while. How, uh How are things” You reply with a squeak, you can’t bear to say what you're thinking and Richie nods, a look of acknowledgement in his face. Mickey’s death had shaken you, it had changed you in its own way, and you still grief him, it still hurts when Richie's face kinda falls and melts at the reminder of his best friend's death.

“After, uh, after Mickey, he had left the restaurant, you know, the Beef?” You nod in agreement, the hazy memory of the sandwich shop on the corner of Chicago's, busiest streets, you stomach rumbles at the thought of one of those sandwiches you'd down in less than a minute during your high school years.

“Yeah well, get this, he left it to Carmen. And honestly, I was hesitant at first, real hesitant, I love him, but god, he's a self centred ass coming in like he knew everything, spewing the bullshit CDC shit he learnt up in the big apple? He changed things, and you know how I feel about change, but he made it better, I can;t lie, and you better not tell him this, but the Beef actually..” Richie’s familiar rambles are muffled to your ears, the only thing you can hear is Carmen.

Everything zones out as you scrunch your eyebrows, wincing almost, at the pain and it shocks you, it shocks you how the very name of him still brings back those memories. You still hurt the same way you did the day you left him.

You must have looked out of it, as Richie shakes your shoulder, anchoring you back to the present, and you have to swallow back the bite of pain that bleeds through your chest.

“Did you hear what I said? The Beef’s holding a little family dinner tomorrow, shutting down the shop early, inviting only friends and family, it’ll be like a little reunion for you! You have to come” Richie replies, and you nod trying to seem present.

Carmen took over the Beef? He was in New York? What?

Your mind is scattered with the uproar of questions you have, the thought of Carmen, the memory of him is like a fresh wound. It un tethered and opens up a thread of thoughts and emotions you had thought you bottled up and threw deep into the ocean.

“You, you still talk to him right? Ya’ll were pretty close growing up, like fucking thieves attached to the hip if i can remember” Richie chuckles, fondly remembering the two of you.

You cough back, smiling up at him as you trying to reply coherently

“Yeah, uh sometimes you know” You lie

No. You haven't spoken to him since you left, and it feels like your tongue falls dead when you try to say his name again. You hadn't called and he hadn't picked up. Carmen told you not to say goodbye, but the truth was it had been the end of you even before you had both realised.

You had spent years pretending like Carmen not calling you, not making an effort to see you after everything didn’t burn, but the reality of it had marked you in a way that felt eternal.

“So you're coming, yeah? You and Carmen can finally catch up” Richie replies with a smile, and look of something passes through his eyes before it leaves, and you have to smile back with a nod, like you and Carmen were still close, like you don't feel that he might turn you away or scream at you the second he saw you, like you weren't both irrevocably in love with each other.

Bear. You missed him, you are shocked by how much you do, you thought bottling up your memories and emotions about him and stuffing them so far back into your mind you forgot would actually change anything. There had always been this lingering thought, at the recesses of your mind, the last thing you imagined before you fell asleep, the feeling that filled you the second you came back to Chicago, it was all Carmen, it was all your golden boy.

And now you would have to see him, in less than a day you would be in the same room as Carmen Berzatto, you don't want to say it, you don't want to speak it into acknowledgement but deep down, you wanted to see him again.

Beyond it all, you both were bonded in friendship, sharing something you didn't even have with Adeline or Mae, and you had felt like a part of yourself was missing each day that went passed without hearing from him. Had he forgotten you? Had it been as hard for him to go on with life? He had been in New York for christ sake, he didn't even think to visit you, that thought alone made you want to run back home and never come out.

You couldn't bare the possibility of exposing yourself to such heartache, to the chance of being rejected by the very person who you forever longed for. You were always searching for him, looking through crowds to see the familiar curl of his brown hair, or the scent he carried, ears always leaning in, trying to see if it would catch his syrupy baritone voice.

The two of you were forever connected, like the roots of trees spanning miles under the Earth. The kind of companionship that transcended time and space, and god did you want to feel the sharp edge of his jaw between your hands.

You couldn't stop it now, Richie had opened something you kept locked and sunk for a reason, and now it felt like you would break if you didn't see Carmen. Even if it would break you, even if it was the one thing in this world that would destroy you,

You had to see your golden boy.

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mountttmase · 1 year ago

Text

Someone You Can Trust

Note - so this was actually a request from @carlottawllms 🤭 thank you for trusting me so much with your ideas and I hope this lives up to your expectations 🩷 feedback would be appreciated pleaseeeeeee

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 4.6k

Warnings - smutty and fluffy

Visiting Mason in Manchester was always a good time.

No matter what you were doing it was just good to be back in his company with all of your shared friends, catching up on everything you’d missed and with it being international break he had a bit more time to spend with you guys now. Taking you all out for dinner at his new favourite restaurant before going out for a few drinks. You weren’t out long though, everyone complaining that they were tired after the long journey that day so you all made your way back to Masons to get ready for bed.

Everyone else had gone up already but you and Mason had made home in the kitchen. Chatting away like time meant nothing but before long he was pulling you upstairs and into his room as he was getting a little uncomfortable sat on the kitchen stools.

‘Wow, Mason Mount's bedroom, I’m honoured’ you laughed, flopping down next to him but the groan and roll of his eyes let you know he wasn’t entirely happy with your sarcasm.

‘You should be. First girl I’ve had in here I’ll have you know’ he huffed, taking his jeans off before collapsing down next to you. To anyone else it might of looked a bit weird but the pair of you were close and before long he was turning on his side so you could face each other but you noticed his cheeky smile was missing.

‘Yeah like I’m gonna believe that’ you teased, knowing Mason had always been a bit of a ladies man but the pair of you never really discussed any of that.

‘It’s true. I’m a changed man’ he laughed ‘Not that I was sleeping with the world and his wife before but you know what I mean…’ he laughed awkwardly.

‘So what’s changed?’

‘Dunno, just don’t fancy it anymore. It’s not… fun’

‘You were flirting with that girl all night, you can’t tell me you weren’t having a good time then’ you teased, watching his cheeks flush slightly but his cheeky smile returned and you felt better. ‘I really thought you were gonna get her number at least’

‘Well yeah I can talk the talk but I can’t seem to walk the walk right now’ he huffed, shuffling so he could lie on his back and look up at the ceiling. The prospect of having this conversation whilst having to look at you clearly was too much for him so you followed suit and laid down on your back next to him. ‘Flirting’s fine, I can talk for England but anything more it’s like I panic lately. Like I’ve put all this pressure on myself and it’s messing me up. It’s like I’m sabotaging myself so we don’t make it to the main event’

‘So you’re not enjoying it? Sex I mean’

‘I guess’ he laughed awkwardly and you could see his face was as red as a tomato from the corner of your eye. You wanted to push him to talk about it some more but you also didn’t want to make him uncomfortable so without a second thought you reached over to try and find his hand on the bed. Linking your pinkies together and you were surprised he held yours tightly.

‘You don’t have to be awkward about it, Mase. We’re friends right? And we’ve all done it’

‘Yeah I guess so’

‘So what don’t you like?’

‘I dunno like… I always feel rushed. There’s a lot of pressure to… you know. Get them where they need to go but it’s like I don’t know what I like anymore. I focus so much on the other person that when it gets to the main event it’s all I can think about and it’s like I put myself off. Sometimes it feels a bit underwhelming and tense and the more I try the worse it gets’

‘So you wanna be a bit selfish huh?’ You smiled, turning your head to face him but he refused to look at you.

‘N-no I just-‘

‘I’m kidding Mase’ you laughed watching his face fall slightly before turning his head away from you.

‘It doesn’t matter anyway, let’s just go to sleep. You can stay here if you want or the room over the hall is free’ he told you, turning fully onto his side and away from you and you felt your heart sink.

You hadn’t meant to upset him, you just wanted to get to the bottom of why he wasn’t feeling it but in the process you’d made him feel awkward. Not that he ever needed to be around you, you’d been best friends for years and whilst the furthest you’d gone with him was a drunken three second kiss in a club once, in the back of your mind you liked to think you knew what he would like and what he would want.

That didn’t make you feel any better though, looking at him now. His body slumped into the mattress as he sulked, the back of his neck as red as his cheeks out of embarrassment and all you wanted was to apologise and let him know he had nothing to be embarrassed of.

In the end you shuffled up to him, you front pressed into his back as you snaked an arm around his waist to hold him close and you smiled as you felt him relax into you.

‘Sorry Mase, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or awkward or anything’ you told him quietly. Pressing a small kiss to the back of his neck to let him know how sorry you were and you were surprised to feel him shiver at the contact. ‘You know you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of and all I want is to help’

‘I know’ he sighed, threading his fingers through yours that were settled on his tummy before you dropped another kiss on the same spot on his neck. Pride filling you as you a shuddery breath left his lips and all you wanted was to carry on making him feel good.

‘You’re allowed to want to be a bit selfish. Sex is a two way street and you shouldn't feel pressured about worrying if the other person is enjoying it to the detriment of your own pleasure. You need someone who’ll look after you too’

He didn’t answer, only a short breath passing his lips that let you know he’d heard you and you knew you needed to work a little harder.

‘These girls, you don’t really know them do you? You don’t know what they like and they don’t know what you like and that’s the issue really isn’t it? You wanna be relaxed but your too focused on figuring each other out’

‘Basically’ he uttered, his head nodding into the pillow and you lent up just a smidge so you could place another kiss just behind his ear this time. His nervous gulp making his whole body move but soon enough he was relaxing back into you.

‘You need someone you can trust. Someone who knows you and you can’t trust them can you? You want a connection and you can’t give them the time to figure you out and know what buttons to press. That’s what you want isn’t it?’

‘Yeah’ he gulped, his breathing changing the more you spoke to him and you knew it was now or never or you’d back out. I’m

‘They don’t know you like I do Mason. They can’t give you what I can’ you told him. The words falling from your lips before you’d even thought about it but as soon as they had you knew what you had to do. What you wanted to do for your best friend even though this wasn’t typically what best friends did.

‘You can trust me Mase. And I bet I can make you feel so good’ you told him, lightly scratching your nails over his abs as you felt them tense under your touch. ‘Will you let me try?’

‘Y/n I- I don’t know’ he mumbled, his voice sounding conflicted but he hadn’t said yes so you started to pull away just in case he was feeling uncomfortable with your touches.

‘That’s okay, I’ll stop’ you told him, pulling back as you didn’t want to push him and make him feel weird but you were surprised to feel him grab your wrist and pull you back into him.

‘No i… I don’t want you to stop, I just…’

‘Mase it’s okay’ you told him, keeping your voice light so he didn’t think you were upset. ‘We can just go to sleep and forget about it’

‘No’ he huffed, turning in your grasp so he could face you but there was an unreadable expression on his features. ‘I’m just a little nervous, like what would it mean?’

‘It doesn’t have to mean anything’ you reassured him, reaching out to stroke his cheek. ‘You’re my friend Mase, I care about you a lot and I wanna make you feel good’ you whispered. ‘Sex is supposed to be fun and sometimes we just need a little reminder. I’m happy to be the one to remind you if that’s what you want. But if you don’t want to, that's alright too. No pressure’

‘Well how am I supposed to say no to that?’ he chuckled. Hands finally reaching for your waist and you let him stroke your skin lightly. ‘I just don’t want you to feel like you have to’

‘That’s not it at all, Mase. I want to’ you told him, reaching over to kiss his cheek lightly and you revelled in the way his eyes fluttered shut. ‘Lay back for me?’

He did as you said, laying on his back as he looked at you with a tense expression but you knew just how to relax him. Curling into the side of his body so you could tuck your face into his neck and as soon as you felt him relax you started peppering kisses along his jaw and down his neck.

You started slow, now wanting to overwhelm him with lots of affection but you knew you were starting to drive him wild. Noticing his breath getting shallow with each kiss and when you discreetly nipped his collarbone he let out a hiss. The sound making butterflies erupt in your tummy and you knew you wanted to make him do it again.

Mason's arm that was around your body was gripping your waist tightly but there was something else you wanted him to hold so you took his wrist and moved it down so he could grip your bum instead. Feeling him give it a light squeeze and you hummed in satisfaction to let him know it was okay.

‘Can I take this off please, mase?’ you asked, fingers gripping the hem of his shirt in hopes you could access more of his skin and when he nodded in agreement you hoisted yourself up so you could straddle him. Pulling the fabric from his body and letting him lay back down before you decided what you wanted to do to him.

You knew Mason was a sucker for touch, no matter who he was with he'd have his hands on them in some way so you figured he’d like it to be reciprocated. And who wouldn't want to touch him? He was flawless in every way from the smattering of hair on his chest to the mole that sat on his abs that you wanted to kiss everytime you caught a glimpse of it.

You stared off trailing your fingertips over his body, your barely there touches effecting him immediately as his abs clenched and his breath got caught in his throat but the way he gripped your bum with both hands now let you knew he was loving it.

‘Is this okay Mason?’

’y-yeah’ he stuttered, trying to keep his voice steady but you knew him and you knew he was feeling good. ‘That feels really nice’

‘Yeah?’ you smiled, pride washing over you as you'd read him so well, but little did he know he hadn't seen anything yet. ‘You just stay relaxed, okay? i’ll make it worth your while’

You noticed it instantly, your words making him panic already as was clearly thinking about skipping to the end and whether he could get there but you just kept on touching him and relaxing him as best you could.

‘Just relax for me Mase, there’s no rush okay? We’ll take as long as we want’ you murmured, feeling his hands move to the hem of your shirt now. Biting your lip as you pulled it over your head but little did he know you had nothing on underneath and the sight of your bare chest made him whimper.

‘Jesus Christ, y/n. Warn a guy’ he chuckled but you still gave him no warning when you covered his hands with your own so you could drag them up your body and cup your chest. Rocking your hips over his in hopes of riling him up a bit but to your surprise he was already rock hard under you.

‘You like that masey?’ You teased, feeling him squeeze your warm skin as he dragged his bottom lip through his teeth

‘Fuck’ he whispered, eyes rolling back in his head before he moved his hands to wrap around your back. Pulling you forward so your bare chest was pressed up against his and the shy smile on his face made your heart thump. ‘I’ve always wanted to know what you were hiding under there’ he laughed, feeling shy as he looked right into your eyes. ‘I know we’re friends and everything but I’ve always been curious’

‘Well I hope I didn’t disappoint’

‘Nuh uh’ he smiled. The tips of his fingers running up and down your back just how you’d done to his chest and the realisation that he probably wanted to touch as well as be touched made you smile.

Without another word, you placed your lips back on his neck. Remembering the place he’d reacted to the most just before and you sucked on it lightly until he was bucking his hips.

Mason's body deserved to be worshipped and that’s exactly what we’re about to do. Shuffling yourself over to straddle just one thigh now but it gave you a bit more movement to do what you needed to. Kissing every inch of his skin you could and finally making your way down to the mole on his tummy. Flicking your tongue over it before licking a stripe up his body to his nipple so you could give it a playful bite.

‘You’re a tease’ he laughed, his hands threading through your hair at the sides so he could feel you but you carried on, giving the other side the same attention before trailing your kisses back down his body until you got to the waistband of his boxers. You kissed along the fabric before dipping your tongue just past the elastic waistband so you could lick a stripe across his skin again just under his belly button, but you could feel him tense before laughing and pulling you up to look at him. ‘If the mission was to make me cum then you every nearly almost did’

‘Sorry’ you chuckled, hiding your face in his neck but the quick squeeze he gave you let you know you had nothing to be sorry for.

‘Don’t be, whatever you’re doing’s obviously working’

‘Can I take these off?’ You asked, fingers running back running along the waistband of boxers again and you felt him nod but he stopped you as you sat up so he could look at you properly.

‘You can, but I want yours off too, yeah?’ He told you, eyes flickering down to your bottom half that was currently covered by your jeans as you were only meant to be in here for a chat and you knew he was only asking so he wouldn’t be the only one without anything on.

‘Okay’ you whispered, rolling off the side of the bed so you could stand up and undress yourself first but Mason wasn’t happy about this. Sitting up and reaching for you so he could pull you between his legs and unbutton them for you.

You should have realised he had ulterior motives but it was still a shock when you felt his mouth close over your nipple as he tugged your jeans down and you moaned louder than you intended to. Your fingers hiding in his hair so he couldn’t move but there was no need as he seemed content on sucking and flicking your skin with his tongue until your knees were going weak and you had to pull him off.

‘You sound so pretty when you moan for me’ he whispered, kissing the space between your breasts before peppering them down your skin as far as he could.

‘Stop it, this is supposed to be about you’ you scolded, trying to bat his hands away but he just held you tighter.

‘I know, and I wanna touch you’ he smirked. Giving your bum another gentle squeeze before finally pulling your underwear down to your ankles to join your jeans.

You thought it might be weird being completely naked in front of your best friend but he made you feel so at ease that you didn’t bat an eyelid. Letting his eyes explore all the parts of you he’d never seen before you gripped his chin so he’d look into your eyes and you were surprised at how dark they were. He looked hungry for you and all you wanted was to give him what he needed.

‘Lay down’ you whispered. Head nodding back towards the pillows and you watched him shuffle back before you placed yourself back in between his legs so you could pull his underwear from him. The gentle thud of his length hitting his tummy was like music to your ears and you were glad to see the effect you were having on him.

You still didn't want to go in all guns blazing so you carried on pressing kisses to his skin. Your fingers scratching over his tummy and thighs before you finally gave him what he wanted. Licking a stripe up the length of him before taking what you could of him in your mouth. He was big and you needed a hand to tackle all of him but you got a steady rhythm going and you could feel his thigh muscles dancing under his skin as you moved your mouth over him.

Him telling you he wanted to touch you was still ringing in your ears and you could see him fisting the sheets next to you as your mouth worked on him so you grabbed one of them. Placing it in your hair so he could touch you in some way and you were pleased to find he didn’t seem to want to alter your movements or force you to go faster. He just wanted to touch you and you moaned when he started to massage your scalp lightly.

‘Fuck, y/n. That feels so insane’ he whimpered. The sound making your tummy flutter. ‘Always knew that mouth would come in useful one day’

‘Fuck off’ you laughed after coming off of him with a pop but you knew he was only joking. Mason always described you as a chatterbox when you were with him, telling you he thought you saved up all your words for when you were next to him but you were only like that with him because you were comfortable enough with him to be yourself.

‘Sorry’ he chuckled, running his thumb under your lip to clean you up but you were ready to let him have it with both barrels now as some form of punishment so without a second thought you lowered yourself back down and took him back in your mouth. Making sure to stick your bum in the air more so he could get a good view of it and you could tell he liked it as he groaned even louder than before.

You could tell he was loving you slowing it all down, letting him feel every drag of your lips and flick of your tongue as he came apart underneath you until he couldn’t take it anymore. Pulling you up and off of him so your faces were level but he could clearly see the confusion in your eyes.

‘Sorry, I’m just really close and I don’t wanna finish there’ he told you sheepishly.

‘Where do you wanna finish Mase?’ You asked seductively but he answered you with his eyes. Watching and they flashed down to your core and the fact he wanted to fully have you made your heart race. ‘Oh, you want the full package then huh?’ You laughed with a wink before he nodded.

‘Well it is all about me’ he teased. Hands running up your arms before he gripped the back of your neck gently. ‘Is that okay?’

‘Yeah’ you whispered, attempting to move your legs so you could straddle him but the feeling of him pulling your face closer to his stopped you.

You hadn’t wanted to kiss him, not because you didn’t want to but because you thought it might have been too intimate for him. You were only friends at the end of the day and no matter how far this had gone or was going to go a proper kiss felt like it crossed some sort of line however Mason was now ready to plough right through it. Attaching his lips to yours in a soft kiss, wondering if he’d just got caught up in the moment before you realised that was more of a thank you than anything else and you kissed him back with a smile.

Still in a teasing mood you moved to sit over his lap. Not getting down to business just yet but you allowed yourself to feel him bare under you. Sliding up and down his length as his face contorted in pleasure and you knew you wanted to make him beg for you a little bit, half because you thought it might get him off but also for your own enjoyment.

‘Please, y/n’ he suddenly whimpered, the sound making your spine tingle in excitement.

‘What is it, Mase?’

‘Please don’t tease, I wanna be inside you’

‘Are you sure that’s what you want?’ You asked playfully, watching him nod at you frantically as he tried to lift your hips up but you wouldn’t budge. ‘Is it what you deserve?’

‘Yes, f-fuck yes please. Please let me fuck you baby’ he whined, squeezing your waist as you felt your legs give way at how needy he was being but you knew you needed to put him out of his misery. Lifting your hips and lining him up with your entrance before you slowly sank down on him. Both sighing in what sounded life relief as you took all of him in.

‘Do that feel good, Mase?’

‘F-fuck yeah it does’

‘I’m gonna take my time with you okay? I wanna feel every part of you’ you told him, resting your palms flat on his chest before rolling your hips once. His hands were squeezing your bum selfishly as he moaned into the air and the sound only made you want to bounce up and down on him faster.

‘Fuck Mase, that’s it’ you whimpered, noticing your praise was getting him off as much as you actions so you carried on. Wanting to blow his mind in every conceivable way. ‘You’re so good Mase’

‘Fuck’

‘That’s it, you feel so good’

The main aim of this whole thing was to remind Mason how to enjoy sex again and you could see just by looking down at him that he was having the time of his life. His bottom lip trapped between his teeth as his eyes rolled back in his head but it was the small smile that he couldn't hide that was filling you with pleasure the most. He wasn’t thinking about anyone but himself and what he liked and felt good and all you wanted was for him to reach his high. Little did you know what with the mix of your mouth being on him and now being inside of you, he was closer than you thought.

‘Y/n, p-please I-I…’

‘What Masey, what do you need’

‘It feels s-so good I c-can’t hold it’ he stuttered, hands travelling up to hold your waist in order to try and move your body up and down on him even faster and the sudden change in pace had you clenching around him even tighter.

‘Don’t hold it then, yeah? I want you to cum for me Masey’ you told him, looking down at him through your hazy eyes.

‘But you-‘

‘Don’t worry about me or where I'm at, just cum for me. This is about you remember so just do what feels good and cum’

That was all it took for him to let himself go, stuttering your name into the air as he reached his high and you looked down at him in awe. Mason was always attractive but seeing him right now, flushed and glowing after you’d just made him feel good made your heart flutter so you gently climbed off of him so you could lay next to his body. Letting him wrap you up in his embrace but you noticed he was hiding his face in your neck and no matter what you did he wouldn’t look at you.

‘Mase?’ You laughed, trying to push on his shoulder but he wasn’t having any of it. ‘Mase? What is it?’

‘Nothing’ he laughed, finally looking back at you and you could tell from his blushy cheeks that he was a little embarrassed and overwhelmed. ‘Just, thank you’

‘No need to thank me, it’s what best friends do’

‘I don’t think Dec would be too happy if I asked him to do the same’ he chuckled and you laughed along with him before he got a little more serious again. ‘Was I okay?’

‘It wasn’t about you being okay, Mase. It was about you enjoying sex again. Did you enjoy it?’

‘I did, yeah. A lot’ he told you, fingers touching your cheek lightly and you smiled at how gentle he was bending with you. ‘But I wanted you to enjoy it too’

‘I did’

‘But you didn’t cum’

‘That’s okay’ you smiled, trying to reassure him. ‘That's not why we did this’

‘Would you let me try though? I hate the thought of leaving you hanging’

‘Mase-‘

You were cut off when he pressed his lips to yours for the second time that night. Shock flooding you as this time he definitely wasn’t caught up in the moment but you relaxed into the kiss and were surprised at how much you enjoyed it.

‘Please’ he whispered, peppering kisses across your jaw to try and convince you, and as you were only human and accepted straight away. Nodding lightly as he rolled you onto your back ready to repay you for everything you’d done for him tonight.

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blushsturns · 11 days ago

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perv!matt x innocent!reader ♡

pt.6 ❤︎ deal

w/c: 2228

❤︎ part 5 is here

❤︎ read all about our faves here

it’s been a week since you’ve gotten the sex toys at the sex shop with matt. chris and nick were teasing you and matt the whole way home and matt was completely and utterly aggravated with the both of them. it was chris’ idea to go to the sex shop and yet chris was the one being the most obnoxious about it all. they didn’t see what you two bought, but once they saw you both at the register, they started to make teasing comments like how matt finally decided to grow some balls. you could tell it was really pissing matt off and you told them both to knock it off, but they were still being obnoxious.

while in the car on the way back from the shop, he apologized to you in the backseat. all you could do was squeeze his thigh and shake your head, flashing him a small reassuring smile. “you don’t have to apologize for anything.”

since then, matt has been quiet. you haven’t heard from him. you texted nick asking if matt was okay but all nick said was that matt was grumpy and wasn’t talking to anyone. it wasn’t like matt to be completely quiet like this. you visibly seen him get frustrated when his brothers were teasing him, but you assumed that was just what siblings do to each other.

“you’re the only one who can get through to him at this point.” nick said to you on the phone while you were painting your nails. you called him when you finally had enough and wanted to know what was going on. it wasn’t like matt not to return your texts or calls.

“i tried to talk to him, he won’t answer me. you guys have really got to knock it off with the whole teasing him thing. i know you’re his brothers, but we were all in a place we never been before. even i was unsure what the hell to do or look for.”

you heard nick sigh at the other end. nick was always such a good person to talk to and always gave the best advice and had a great listening ear. he was someone you felt completely comfortable around. that was just the aura of his personality. “i can apologize to him, but we were just messing around.” he paused for a moment before speaking again. “what did you guys buy anyway? matt was as red as a fucking tomato and when we got home he ran to his room and locked the door.”

you felt your face flush when he asked you what you two bought. matt must’ve been really embarrassed given he’s never been to a place like that before. how would he even begin to explain to his own brothers that you bought his toy and he bought yours? you shook your head to try and erase the memory (for now) and decided to laugh it off. “nick, focus! that’s not important. apologize to your damn brother and get chris to as well. give the poor guy a break, okay?”

“fine, but this weekend i am picking out where we go to hang out because chris was completely out of pocket for that one.”

you let out a soft laugh at his comment before saying your goodbyes and hanging up the phone. a soft sigh emits from your lips when you finish painting your nails and then allowing them to dry. they were a pretty pale pink that matched your pajama set. you went to the bathroom to brush your teeth and do your nighttime skincare routine before making your way back into your bedroom.

with a soft sigh emitting from your lips, you open up your curtains and your eyes widened as you see matt’s figure come into view. he was sitting on the windowsill, his fingers running throughout his tousled hair. his attention was solely focused on his phone in his hands. you pressed your hand against the windowsill, your heart feeling like its aching just from the looks of him. he looked pretty stressed. you knew matt long enough to know when he wasn’t okay and you had to admit, not talking to him for a week was starting to mess with you. you missed him, even if you didn’t want to admit that to yourself.

you wondered if he was okay. if his brothers actually apologized like you asked them to. if he’s been busy and trying to take his mind off of what happened between the two of you the last month, or if it’s all he’s been able to think about. you had to admit, it’s all you’ve been able to think about. you thought about the obsession matt had over you. was it healthy? did he love you, or was it all infatuation? did you feel the same way?

matt seemed to have consumed your brain in ways that you weren’t sure were even possible. you wondered what his lips tasted like, what his body would feel like against yours. he already has had a taste of you, would you ever want to return the favor?

all of these thoughts had your head spinning and you didn’t even realize that matt had your full attention now. he looked up at you through the window, his lips curving up into a small smile. you could visibly see him from the fluorescent light of his lamp that was sitting on his desk. he lifted his hand in his wave and you instantly lifted your hand back to wave at him, relief rushing through you. he seemed okay, but you were still puzzled as to why he’s been so silent.

you knew how embarrassed matt got easily. he instantly got so flustered all the time especially if someone else was poking fun at him for something. he knew how to stand up for himself, but sometimes he really did let it get to him. you cared for matt deeply and wanted him to be happy. you didn’t like knowing he was upset or going through anything and you wanted him to know that he could talk to you about it.

all of a sudden, matt disappeared from your sight and you felt disappointment rush through you. you weren’t sure what to make of what happened. he seemed to be in good spirits, and even waved at you, but you two still haven’t talked. you took in a deep breath, closed your curtain and walked over to your bed to get underneath your covers. you turned your lamp off on your nightstand and grabbed your phone to do your nightly doom scrolling.

you’ve checked almost every single app you had on your phone before you started to get burnt out looking at your phone. just as you were about to put it down, an incoming call from matt appeared on your screen. your eyes furrowed in confusion as to why he would be calling you this late, but you didn’t give it another thought considering you hadn’t heard from him. “hello?”

“hi.” he spoke breathlessly. you heard some rustling around on the other end before it eventually got quiet. “sorry i disappeared from the window. both of my brothers came to my room to apologize actually.”

you nodded your head as you pressed your lips together in a firm line, seemingly impressed by nick and the fact that he actually listened to you. “as they should’ve from the start. how did that go?”

“well they apologized. chris didn’t seem as apologetic, but nick did. they were curious as to what we, uh bought that day, but i wouldn’t tell them.” you didn’t have to visibly see him to know that he was blushing from the way he stammered on his words, obviously remembering that day and what they had purchased together.

a soft chuckle leaves your own lips as you rest your head comfortably against the pillow. “well good, it’s none of their business. have you been okay though? i haven’t heard from you.”

a long sigh was heard from the opposite end of the call. “yeah, i’m sorry about that. i just got so damn embarrassed. i mean chris was the one who brought up going in the first place and yet he was doing the worst of it all. i just didn’t want to make a fool out of myself and look totally inexperienced in front of you, i guess.” you could tell he was obviously still blushing, probably laying on his bed to mirror exactly what you were doing at that very moment.

“don’t worry about me. that shit doesn’t bother me. chris is an absolute idiot.” another laugh leaves your lips and you could hear his laugh on the other end too which made you feel a little better. “they just like to mess around too much, you know that. you didn’t have to ignore everyone for a week though, matt.” you spoke this with sadness filling your tone. you wondered if there was something else going on, or if he was genuinely just embarrassed with the way his brothers were behaving. it wasn’t the first time they were out of control, but maybe it was because he was completely out of his element in a sex shop that he probably never would’ve gone to on his own.

you heard him sigh once again, sadness filling his voice. “i know, i’m sorry. i just was really embarrassed and didn’t know how to recover from that. last thing i’d want is for you to think differently of me because of how, uh, inexperienced i am.”

you almost wanted to reach through the phone and hug him, but you knew you couldn’t do that. it wasn’t like you didn’t know that matt was inexperienced, it was just fairly obvious. matt has had a couple girlfriends in the past, but they were always really short lived and he never seemed serious about them. he never talked about his relationships or feelings in general around you and that was just the dynamic of your relationship with him.

you’d never judge him or think differently of him because of him not being as experienced or fully confident. you already knew he got flustered really easily, it was just part of who he was. in all honestly, you thought it was adorable and kind of attractive.

it excited you to know that he had some kind of obsession over you. it never once freaked you out. it made you intrigued because nobody else has ever been like this with you before. you were glad it was matt. someone you knew for awhile and felt completely comfortable with. you don’t know where this would lead and how you truly felt, but you didn’t want to lose him and you didn’t want matt to feel any less of a man because of how embarrassed he gets.

you realized you were quiet for a bit and didn’t mean to be, but you got lost in your thoughts. “you don’t have to apologize, matt. i mean it.” you said with complete and utter sincerity in your voice. “i don’t think differently of you at all. that doesn’t bother me at all. if anything, it honestly excites me a little.” you bit onto your bottom lip after you speak, even though you knew he obviously couldn’t see you.

“wait, really?” he said abruptly, surprise filling his tone. “it excites you that i’m uh, not experienced that much?”

a soft giggle emits from your lips at his reaction, resting your free hand on your stomach. “yeah, it does. although, you did seem to know what you were doing that one time in my kitchen.” immediately when you brought it up you felt your cheeks grow warm. thank goodness he couldn’t see you so he wouldn’t be able to see the kind of effect he had on you.

“oh yeah.” he said immediately, a laugh leaving his lips as well. “i’ve never done anything prior to that, but i’ve seen some things and i’d do it again, and again, and again. i mean that. sometimes it’s all i can think about.”

his voice seemed to get quieter and you wondered if maybe he had to be quiet in case nick and chris were around to listen. you felt your heart begin to beat rapidly in your chest at his words as you bite down a little harder onto your bottom lip. “really?” you asked him with surprise filling your tone. “me too.” now your voice was quiet, although it was just you and no one around you had to worry about that could hear you. “i really enjoyed that.”

“i had an idea.” he said immediately, a bit more confidence filling his voice.

this piqued your interest, your fingers playing with string on your shorts. “what is it?”

you could hear him take in a deep breath to gather himself. before you had any chance to think about what he possibly could say, he began to speak.

“how about i make it up to you for not talking for a week? tomorrow night, you and me. i’ll be in charge of that toy i got you. deal?”

you took in a deep breath, the adrenaline running throughout your body, your core suddenly beginning to throb with excitement.

“deal.”

taglist:

@sturnshood @strangelife122 @jessie-essie @giveheavensomehell @rina3476 @chrissturnioloslvt @sturnslutz @sturns-mermaid @matthewsturnsgf @christmastreecake @rinahasspots @222wall876 @chris-hallelujah @izzylovesmatt @strniloslvts @oopsiedaisydeer @sophand4n4 @sturniololuv08 @xclusivedesires @mattsplaything @katiebug3851 @fetusjikook @poppingmypussy4chris @mattsbunnyxx @pair-of-pantaloons @chrissweetheart @slutformatt17 @sturnl0ve @pasteldreams @h3arts4harry @marrykisskilled @wh0remikasas @sturnzslut @camzeecorner @alesturniolos @emely9274 @2muchofaslvt @y3sterdaysproblem @sturnslux3 @bowsandsturniolos

a/n:

thank you so much for loving this au and keeping up with it! this part was kind of like a filler, but it’s very important to the story. i have tons of ideas so bare with me. i’m excited for what’s to come next.

if you wanna be added to my taglist, click here!

also if you wanna talk to me about perv!matt x innocent!reader, send me a message or hit up my inbox! :)

i’m also taking requests too!

love you guys!

-nessa ღ

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crazyforbarbatos · 2 years ago

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Obey Me Demons: You hold their pinkie instead of their hand

Warning: None, it’s fluffy!

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Notices right away but doesn’t say anything. He just kinda smiles to himself. For you to feel so comfortable with him to just grab his pinkie, he was relieved. Honestly he wanted to parade you around to make sure everyone saw that you only did such thing with him. He especially loved when you grabbed his pinkie before you’d lean up on your tip-toes to kiss him.

He’d pout because he has a whole hand for you to hold yet you’re only holding his pinkie. So what if it was kinda cute? He wasn’t going to say that out loud or anything. Instead, he’d just complain. But seriously, you can hold his pinkie as much as you want. But don’t even think of doing this with any of his brothers or anyone else (especially not that shady sorcerer).

Hand holding made him super nervous and embarrassed, so you’d hold onto his pinkie instead. Sure he blushed like a tomato and his mind played like a pinball machine, bumping from thought to thought, but he enjoyed it. Holding his pinkie like this, was very cute. While he did eventually let you hold his hand, your pinkie-holding was just more intimate and special to him.

Honestly he didn’t notice as it felt so natural to him. However, when one of his brothers would mention it to him, he couldn’t help but think about it when it happens. When you’re nervous or just want some contact with him, you’ll just grab his pinkie. He loved it and would actively make sure that his pinkie was accessible to you.

He would adore it! Absolutely he just falls head over heels for you (than he already does?) for you when you do it. Tells you how cute you are and how much he loves when you hold his pinkie. He would also find it extremely cute if every so often you’d add another finger to your hold so that eventually you just end up holding his hand.

Honestly he’s not too surprise when you start grabbing his pinkie instead of his hand. Both of you always linked your pinkies together anyways when you walked together. And this upgrade to holding his pinkie happened a little bit before you started dating. And he couldn’t deny that it was cute.

Honestly this was a habit that you had when you snuggle up with him in the attic for naps. In your sleepy state, you’d always find his hand and grab his pinkie as if to keep you connected so you’d stay together even in dreamland. When he’d first wake to see you holding his pinkie, he’s smile and kiss your forehead before going back to sleep.

He absolutely melts when you hold his pinkie. He just can’t get over that your hand is so much smaller than his. All human hands were smaller than his, but that was besides the point. Your hand was perfect and it fit so well with his. He would absolutely get lost in thought about how perfect you were for him. He has serious heart eyes for you.

Feeling a bit shy about it, you asked him if you could. While he was confused why you would want to hold it, he’d allow it. And he really liked the small bit of contact with you. It showed that you could trust him, after all. It was common for you to grab his pinkie when you were excited or scared or nervous. However as your demon, he loved it when you tugged him towards you to get a last minute kiss before he had to accompany Lord Diavolo.

The first time you did it, he would be pretty confused. What were you doing holding just his pinkie? Okay. He’ll allow it just this once. Except his one-time only pass of this, extended to an eternal pass. If you don’t hold his pinkie right away, he’ll simply move it closer to your hand so that you’d be tempted.

#obey me reactions #obey me x reader #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #mephisto x reader

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cheeeeseburger · 8 months ago

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Do you dream of me? (cause you're a dream to me)

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: They could never make me hate you, fake dating trope. English is not my first language, apologies for the mistakes!

As soon as Fernando opened the car door for you and you stepped out, all dolled up, cameras flashed everywhere. This was a part of being Fernando’s girlfriend that you were still getting used to. Actually, you weren’t used to any things related to dating him, since in reality, you were not really together.

Fernando had asked you to be his fake girlfriend two months ago. Initially, you just laughed at him, but he was not kidding at all. He wanted to work on his PR, and a good romance story always does the trick, right?

“Please, just think about it. I’m not crazy! It would only be for show. It would be fake dating.” You were impressed at his romcom knowledge. He definitely knew the literature, to use words like fake dating. Still, that was not enough to convince you.

The thing is, Fernando was your boss. You had been his assistant for over two years now, and he knew you were single and available. Saying no to his proposal would put you in a difficult situation. It’s not like the whole fake dating thing would only benefit him, though. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to accept.

“You would only have to come to a few events with me, which you already come to as my assistant! You would just have to pretend we’re together. Of course, you would receive compensation for your services.” Fernando said. He did not get why you suddenly gasped.

“I was about to say yes, but I’m not a hooker or an escort, Fernando! How dare you suggest these things to me?” Frankly, you were insulted. He answered immediately, panicked: “No, that’s not what I meant, of course not! I just meant that since you’re going to, um, work extra, I will pay you more, that’s all. You’re too much of a good girl for all of that, anyway.”

Goddamn. You blushed intensely. You would definitely be a good girl for him, if you were actually dating. Oops.

“Wait, didn’t you say you were going to say yes?” Damn him for actually listening to you.

You blushed a little: “I mean, it’s just that I have, let’s say, a situation, that could be fixed if we publicly dated…” You looked away, embarrassed.

“What is it, muñeca?” He genuinely looked concerned for you. He really was a caring boss, huh?

“It’s just that, um, there’s this guy…” You did not want to continue the rest of the sentence. You were the colour of a ripe tomato.

“And you want to make him jealous?” He raised an eyebrow. Oh wow. Has he watched Anyone But You on a flight recently or something?

“Oh God no, absolutely not! It’s the opposite, really. I went on one date with him, and he can’t get a hint. He always comes tries to talk to me, even though I told him multiple times that I was no longer interested. He’s an engineer at Ferrari, so he’s always around. It’s getting scary.” Telling your boss your horror dating stories was really, really embarrassing.

“What? That’s not okay!” He looked pissed. “Muñeca, this is not right. You should have told me. I could have fixed the issue. I would have helped you.”

You flushed. It was cute to see your boss so worried about you. “Anyway, that’s why I’m tempted to say yes to be your fake girlfriend. Maybe that other guy will back off.”

“I didn’t know you went on dates. You’re always busy helping me.” He crossed his arms on his chest.

“Well, he’s always around since he works in F1. He just asked me out and I said yes.” You were avoiding his gaze, afraid of being in trouble for some reason.

“Why didn’t it work out?” Ok, now you were definitely looking everywhere but at him. The real reason was too humiliating too say out loud. Why did he care anyway?

“It’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it.” He noticed you were mortified but did not pick up on it. You sighed: “I think we should do it. But I’m still going to have my job after, right?”

“Of course, muñeca. You’re too essential in my life for me to let you go.” Apparently, he was not above flattery to convince you. Apparently, flattery was a great way to bribe you.

“It’s a deal, then.” You shook Fernando’s hand. You immediately shivered at his touch.

“You’re mi amorcito now.”

Oh God. What did you get yourself into?

Anyway, you felt Fernando’s hand on your back, softly guiding you towards the entrance of the party at a high-end hotel. As usual when there were cameras around, you put on a show. Your performance was Oscar worthy. He spun you around so people could admire your look. You blew him a kiss. You leaned on him while he put an arm around you. He kissed the top of your head, and you whispered in his ear.

“I think we’ve really fooled them.”

“It’s good, but it’s only the beginning. I’m not done with you, muñeca.”

To anybody on the outside, you two looked like the hot, exciting, and loving couple of the moment. Sometimes, it looked that way to you too. It was hard to remember that this was not real when he kissed you, or when you were in his arms, or just when you were with him in general. Playing pretend with him was so easy. It was fun, even. You were getting showered in gifts and kisses by your boss, who just happens to be a man you find really attractive. You could have done worst for a side hustle, right?

The media was having a field day with your relationship. Some thought the age gap was a bit weird, but most people just thought that it was cute that Alonso fell in love with his assistant. You had even seen a TikTok edit of you two. You looked hot in it, so that was nice. You were the it WAG of the moment.

The other drivers were also freaking out that Alonso, a long-time bachelor, had finally met his match. You had to act extra lovingly in front of them, just to prove to them that he had finally settled. Also, Fernando just liked to show off a pretty young thing like you in his arms, because the rest of the grid was definitely jealous.

You made you way inside, making sure to always close the gap between you and Fernando. You were constantly flushed, because him touching you did wonders for your nerves. Small talk was hard, but it was even more difficult to do with his arm around your waist. You pulled on his arm.

“Fernando, baby, I need a drink.” The word baby slipped off a little too casually for your liking. He seemed to like it though, because you felt his possessive grip at the nickname. He smiled, pleased.

“Alright, amorcito. What do you want?” He led you to the bar, the crowd letting him pass easily. This was another advantage of dating an F1 driver. Also, he always paid for all your drinks, which is an added bonus, right? You needed a drink to survive the night anyway.

“I want to get drunk. Not passed out drunk, but drunk enough that there is a risk that I will get up to dance on a table.” He laughed at that, and you smiled him. The urge to kiss him was strong. Technically, you could do it, since you were in a public place with people watching your every movement. So far, you had always let him kiss you first, because you were simply too shy. Anytime you felt his lips on yours, forgetting that this was not real was way too easy.

“I would want to see that, muñeca.” The music was loud, and he spoke in your ear. You shivered. Oh yes, more than one drink would be needed. “I’ll have a whiskey sour, and a cosmo for the lady,” Fernando said at the bartender. It was cute that he remembered your drink of choice. But you needed more than a Cosmo to ease your nerves right now. Forget about being classy.

“I’ll have three tequila shots as well, please.” You nearly had to shout for the bartender to hear you. Fernando looked surprised.

“You were not kidding, huh?”

“I won’t embarrass you by being too drunk, I swear. But it’s just that there are so many people here, and I’m kind of nervous.” He put your hand in his and started to draw circles on it with his thumb.

“It’s okay, mi armorcito. These people are not important. The only thing that matters is you and me. I want you to have a good time, muñeca.” You softened at his words. Even though you had not gotten you shots yet, you managed to have enough courage to finally kiss him. He was surprised at first, but he quickly recovered and pulled you closer to him. You pulled away, blushing, but only because the bartender put your drinks in front of you. He smiled at you and his gaze lingered on your mouth.

You drank your shots back-to-back without even making a face. “That’s a good girl,” said Fernando, sipping his whiskey. He knew what he was doing. The alcohol hadn’t even kicked in yet, but you were feeling bolder already.

“Are you into good girls, boss?” You drank innocently from your Cosmo, batting your eyelashes. It was his turn to get flushed. Maybe he had a thing for authority?

“When they look like you, sure. And you’re always so good to me, taking care of my every need. Well, almost.” He winked at you. Surely, the few sips of his drink were not enough to get him to say things like that purely because of the alcohol. Was this really coming from him? It was a delicious thought, almost as delicious as your Cosmo.

“I know this is fake, but baby, if it wasn’t, I would fulfill your every needs. And I mean, all your needs, boss.” You put your hand on his arm to really send the message. The tequila had finally hit your system. His desire for you was obvious in his eyes.

“Amorcito, you would be my favourite assistant of all time, for sure. I would never let you go.” He pulled you close to him, with his hands around your waist. He was looking at you so intensely that it almost felt like love.

You let yourself daydream. “Nobody could say a thing, because pleasing your boss is the goal of being an assistant, right?”

“Exactly, muñeca. But since they don’t know that this is fake, they couldn’t say anything if, let say, they caught us?” He smirked at you, softly brushing the loose stands of hair away from your face

Oh, you knew were this was getting, but the alcohol in your blood and his handsome face were telling you to go along.

“Absolutely, baby. I bet you’d like it, too.” You finished your drink and ordered another shot.

“What, if we were caught?” He nearly choked out his whiskey sour.

“Yeah. Wouldn’t you like it if someone was to walk in on you having me on your desk? If people heard me screaming your name?” The look on his face was priceless. Toying with him was fun.

He leaned to whisper in your ear: “Don’t give me ideas, amorcito.” He lingered there for a moment, breathing against your neck. You were breathing rapidly. If you only tilted your head a bit, your lips would be near his. It was tempting, so you did it. As he went in for the kiss, you suddenly pulled away, then downed your last shot. You were not done playing with him.

“I want to dance. Come on!” You pulled on his arm, and Fernando had no choice but to follow you on the dance floor.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜

He was a surprisingly a good dancer. It must be the Spanish in him. He made you feel hot all over. You left the dancefloor feeling very turned on and with a few new hickeys on your neck as a bonus. This happened all the time in fake dating movies, right? You had not broken any rule.

Fernand pulled you to the bar to get something to drink. Things were not PG anymore. His hand was on your ass to guide you instead of on your waist like it was earlier.

“Do you want another Cosmo, muñeca?” You shook your head.

“No baby, I want to get a special treat. Can I please have a sex on the beach?”

He raised an eyebrow at your request, but he still passed it along to the bartender with another whiskey for him. He was not nearly as drunk as you were, so he had no excuse regarding crossing the line between what is real and what is fake.

“You know, amorcito, I could give you the real thing,” he said to you as he passed you your drink.

“What, sex on the beach? I already did that,” you answered, laughing. He looked positively shocked.

“An innocent girl like you? I don’t believe it.” He also didn’t want it to be true.

You smirked. “You remember that the reason I accepted to date you was to get rid of a guy that was like, obsessed with me?” He nodded, wanting to hear where this was going.

“Well, the reason why he can’t get enough of me is because I rocked his world on a beach!” You looked away, embarrassed even with all the alcohol you had consumed. He put his hand under your chin to force you to look at him.

“Muñeca, is this for real? That’s why he won’t leave you alone? He was not happy.

“Yes! But I don’t want anything to do with this guy. He didn’t even make me finish,” you whined. Fernando brushed your lower lip with his thumb. Somehow, you just knew that if it was him instead of that engineer, you would have come. Multiple times, for sure.

“Poor amorito.” He caressed your hair with his free hand. “You know I would never do that to you, right?” You chuckled lightly.

“Oh, I know.” You whispered in his ear: “I had a sex dream about you once.” This was a lie. You had multiple dreams where he had rocked your world. In multiple ways.

You started to give him a few kisses underneath his ear, in that spot that you knew he liked. He grabbed your ass to bring you closer to him.

“What? Amorcito, you must tell me how it was.” He was getting overwhelmed by your confession and the trail of kisses you left on his neck. You just laughed against his throat.

“Baby, I don’t dream and tell.” First of all, you could not believe you had actually told him you dreamed of him. No way in hell would you reveal the fantasy you had of him. He was still your boss!

But Fernando really, really wanted to know. He spun you so your back was against the bar and held you by your wrists. He got centimeters away from your face. “You will this time, muñeca.”

Ok, so he was not playing around anymore. Does the fact that this was the hottest thing you had ever seen in your life says a lot about you? About your relationship with your dad?

“You have to promise me you won’t mock me, okay?” You were suddenly shy. Maybe you should have ordered another sex on the beach. Wait, no. All of this started because of a stupid sex on the beach. A tequila sunrise would have to do next time.

He kissed your cheek and slowly moved to your jaw. “I promise, amorcito. Just tell me, please. I have to know.” A man begging was always a sight to see.

“Okay, baby. I’ll tell you.” Just thinking about it made you feel hot all over. “In my dream, we were in Monaco. You had parked your car, the green Aston Martin, and… You were fucking me against it. But I mean, really fucking me.” You were blushing, but he was the one who had turned scarlet. You continued: “Remember, this is a dream, okay? A paparazzi took a picture of you, um, having me against your car, and it was all over the medias. But we didn’t care, in fact, you printed and framed the picture, and you hung it in your living room in Monaco. And we fucked again in front of it. That’s it.”

Okay, that wasn’t so bad. Your face was heating up, and you were worried since Fernando hadn’t said anything yet. Had you gone too far? You could always blame it on the alcohol. One thing for sure, you had definitely crossed the line of fake dating.

“Eres el sueño de mi vida, amorcito.” Fernando pulled you close to his body to lead you to a dark corner of the room. He pushed you against the wall and he was immediately all over you. You couldn’t help but moan when you felt him palming you.

“Fernando, baby, is this still us fake dating?” He answered between two hickeys on your neck.

“None of this is fake, muñeca. It never was.” His lips crashed on yours. It just felt so good to really have him, without pretending. You had to remember you were in a public place, otherwise your dress would have been on the floor ages ago.

“I swear I’m going to start screaming your name soon, baby. I need you so bad. Can we please go back to the hotel?” He smiled at your eagerness.

“As much as I would like everyone to hear you, including the other drivers, I think we better leave, amorcito.” He reluctantly pulled away to grab your hand.

“Don’t worry baby, the Monaco GP is in two weeks, everyone will hear me and see me screaming your name there,” You winked at him and pulled him outside of the party.

You clearly had an eye for design, because the picture of you two really did look great in the apartment you shared in Monaco.

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso

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flowerandblood · 1 year ago

Text

The Void of the Sky

[ canon • Ettore x doctor's assistant • female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, sex content, smut, angst, domination kink, aggressive behavior, rape attempts, violence, swearing, unprotected sex, description of wounds ]

[ description: Ettore decides to take part in a space experiment from which he guesses he will never return. Already on the ship, his attention is drawn to a young girl who turns out to be the assistant of the fucked-up doctor Dibs. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension. ]

Author's note: This is my first story with Ettore, which was inspired by a request, it was supposed to be just a oneshot. This was very strange and disturbing to write, let me know if you would like further parts describing the story of this couple!

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He already knew this when he sat in this fucking ship, when he saw her in front of him – her tired, terrified gaze, her resignation, her fear. She looked at him as if believing that no matter what he had done in the past he understood her and what she was experiencing, that they were going through what was about to happen to them together.

What they were doomed to.

They glanced at each other all the way to the space station from which they were to fly away never to return. He watched her wordlessly – her long lashes, her pleasantly rounded cheeks, her plump, puffy lips glistening in the disturbing blue light.

He thought, looking boredly around the ship at the other female faces, that if he had to choose which one he would fuck first, he would choose her.

She was pretty, her figure girlish, she seemed fragile to him – he decided that he would easily squash her to the mattress or the floor, one or two punches of his fist on that soft face and she would let him do to her whatever he wanted.

He knew that, like him, all the crew members selected for the mission were criminals sentenced to life imprisonment and he wondered what such an inconspicuous person could have done.

Perhaps she was not as vulnerable as she seemed to him at first glance.

He grinned involuntarily at the thought, deciding that he needed to find out.

How much force he would have to put in to get her to finally stop resisting him, whether he would have to hit her face with his fist until she lost consciousness, making her look like a squashed tomato, or whether it would be enough for him to choke her a little, ordering her to shut up the fuck.

He sighed quietly, tilting his head back, feeling a pleasant pulsing in his cock at the thought, recognising that sooner or later he would put his plan into action.

He was patient.

As it turned out, she wasn't a regular crew member, but an assistant to Dr Dibs, that dumb whore playing God, who on top of that announced that there was a complete prohibition on sexual intercourse on the spaceship.

He would come into their office to give his sperm just to look at her; while Dr Dibs was sitting over the microscope, apparently selecting the most fertile ova, she was writing something, obviously taking notes, always looking at him when he came in – he would grin involuntarily, wondering if she had heard the smack of his hand against his balls while he was jerking off.

As he left, handing Dibs the vessel, he always looked at her, but she no longer bestowed a single glance on him, frustrating him.

"I want my treat." He growled in her direction, wishing she would bestow at least one fucking look on him and not act like a spoiled little bitch, but it was Dibs who would give him the pill, which he would immediately put in his mouth, not taking his eyes off her as he left.

He knew she sensed what he wanted to do to her and was prepared for it.

It was a simple, animal, primal need.

He could satisfy it with anyone or by himself, but he always came back to her anyway.

To his displeasure, it turned out that her position for some reason came with additional privileges, such as a separate cabin in which she slept.

She did not have to clean or tend the garden, her duties being limited to taking notes, treating wounds and overseeing the energy system of the entire spaceship.

She was the opposite of Dr Dibs and her cool sociopathy – he knew that on several occasions she had helped the female part of the crew to get rid of the unwanted effect of her experiment.

Once, while wiping the floor on his knees, he witnessed Dibs slap her, apparently realizing that she was acting behind her back.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? Don't you ever do that again. Do you understand? Your job is to make reports." She hissed, digging her finger into her chest – she snorted under her breath, staring at her with pity and moved ahead.

"You will never become a mother." She said calmly, walking past him, throwing him one intense look before disappearing behind the door of her cabin.

He watched her like a predator, her routine, her habits – he knew exactly her schedule, hours and days of the week when she replaced Dibs in her duties.

One day, knowing that she would be alone and the rest of the crew were busy with their tasks, he left the garden and headed for her office, deciding that this was the day.

He stood in the doorway without making a sound, simply looking at her, her back turned to him, bent over some pills which she was obviously sorting.

He approached her silently, his large hand muffling the scream of surprise that broke from her throat – he cursed loudly as she, with a swift, sure movement, stabbed his arm with a scalpel which she apparently had hidden in the pocket of her medical apron.

He let her go, enraged, pulling the blade out of his arm with a hiss and slapped her across the face with all his might. She fell to the ground as if stunned and stupefied – with a brutal movement he flipped her onto her back and crushed her with his body, trying to slide down his trousers.

"− don't you fuckin' dare −" He growled, grabbing her quickly by the wrist in which she held another scalpel. He snatched it forcibly from between her fingers and threw it far to the floor with a clang of steel, his hands quickly searched her pockets for other sharp objects – he grinned under his breath as he felt a razor blade under his fingertips.

"− I see you've prepared well, hm? − like to struggle a bit first? −" He asked with some kind of amusement while she drew in the air loudly and slammed him on the head with her forehead using all her strength – he growled with rage and punched her in the face with his fist, clenching his fingers on her cheeks, a big red bruise under her eye.

She didn't scream or lash out, she just looked at him, breathing hard, trying to push him away – he wondered how there was so much fucking strength and will to fight in such a small petite being.

"− Ettore, for fuck's sake − use the box −" She growled angrily, feeling him rub his swollen erection between her thighs, an impatient, loud sigh of pleasure escaped his lips.

"− I prefer your cunt − tight and warm −" He gasped as he grabbed the material of her panties with an aggressive, sure motion of his fingers, ripping them off in one violent stroke – she surprised him when she lifted herself up and bit his cheek as hard as if she wanted to bite off a big piece of his skin.

"− FUCK − FUCK − LET GO, YOU FUCKIN' WHORE! −" He groaned hitting her on the head with his open palm – he heard a scream behind him a moment later, Dibs and Monte ran into the office, dragging him away.

She was lying on her back breathing heavily, looking at him and shook her head disapprovingly, as if he was a small disobedient child, her lips red with his blood.

"− let him go, Monte −" She said softly, adjusting the material of her skirt, Dr Dibs helped her up and looked at him tightening her lips, her brow furrowed in disapproval.

"− fucking animal − you're prohibited from using the box for five days −" Dibs ordered, and he snarled under his breath, pulling himself out of Monte's grasp and left, calling her a stupid old cunt under his breath, rubbing his sore cheek.

Small wounds in the shape of her teeth remained on his face for the next few days, making him realize that the matter would not be as easy as he thought.

She was unpredictable.

Just like him.

He would annoy and provoke Monte and Tcherny to get into a fight with them only to have them beat the crap out of him, and he would end up at her door with cut lips, bruises and other injuries that she was obliged to take care of.

She did this, but she always strapped him to the doctor's chair first, tightening special black belts around his wrists, attached to the whole structure at the sides of his body so that he couldn't touch her.

His manhood throbbed greedily in his trousers as she leaned over him, her face calm and focused, sad, her hand holding cotton swabs soaked in antiseptic liquid to gently wash his swollen, sore wounds.

She never used latex gloves, as if she was thus allowing him at least a little intimacy, the touch of her naked body.

He pressed his cheek to her palm, closing his eyes, and she froze for a moment, letting him feel the warmth and softness of her skin – she smelled of soap, her fingers long and delicate, made only for admiration, not defence.

He sighed when she stroked his cheek with her thumb, not opening his eyes – he could feel her looking at him, her warm breath enveloping his face.

"You have to stop." She said quietly, but her soft fingers didn't stop brushing his face. They ran over it like a map, touching his mouth, nose, cheeks, eyebrows, jaw so gently and tenderly that he just fell asleep – he thought he felt her warm, moist lips pressed against his forehead for a moment.

When he woke up, he was already unstrapped, there was no one in the office.

Eventually he began to come to her for no reason, circling around the doctor's office pretending with curiosity to look at what stood on the shelves and in the cabinets – he saw out of the corner of his eye that there were always a few scalpels lying next to her on the desk, just in case.

"You shouldn't be here." She sighed, bent over her notes as usual. He hummed under his breath, glancing at one of the containers filled with pills – he shook it, and they clattered loudly inside.

"You don't take part in these fucked-up experiments of Dibs. You don't use the box. Why?" He asked casually, putting his hands in the pockets of his red trousers, turning and heading towards the gynaecology chair, looking at it intrigued.

"I prefer the touch of my own hand. It's soft and warm." She replied calmly, writing something down quickly.

He glanced at her over his shoulder, wondering whether or not she would have had time to grab a scalpel in her hand if he had stepped behind her and knocked her over along with the chair.

"What about the touch of someone else's hand? Hm?" He grunted, heading towards her, but she stood up; he stopped seeing that her hand immediately reached for the blade and clamped down on it confidently, her breasts rising and falling in accelerated breath.

"No." She said warningly.

"I think about it every day, you know? About what I would do to you, how wet your pussy would be for me. Cuz I know you're wet now. Always lookin' at me with those big fuckin' puppy eyes." He muttered, making another attempt, walking forward with a slow, lazy step, her hand holding the blade raised.

"Put it the fuck down. We'll do it either your way or my way. No third option. Take of your panties. C'mon." He encouraged her with a nod, not pulling his hand out of his trousers, his swollen, throbbing cock clearly outlined against the material of his pants.

She stared at him in disbelief, breathing loudly – he bit his bottom lip seeing that she lowered her hand slowly, her gaze scared and distrustful, full of doubt.

"We'll do it my way." She mumbled quietly.

"Fine." He replied indifferently, feeling that he was completely hard, waiting for her move.

He watched as she flicked sheets of paper off her desk with her free hand, sitting down on it, still holding the scalpel in her other hand.

"Come." She said softly, spreading her thighs wide – he approached her, without asking pulling her shoes off her feet, sliding the material of her underwear off her thighs, his movements confident and swift.

He stood in front of her, with a nimble flick of his fingers releasing his swollen, throbbing erection from under his trousers and drew her to him, putting his arm around her waist – she placed her hand on his chest, her lips parted slightly, her gaze hazy and dark, her body trembling in his embrace.

"− don't be brutal − take it slow −" She muttered in a shaky voice, and he only snorted under his breath with a grin, recognising that he had waited so long for this that he could actually enjoy the moment, feeling that he wouldn't last long anyway.

He grasped his manhood in his hand giving it a few sure, quick squeezes and guided its pink, thick head against her entrance, glistening from her wetness in the red light.

They both sighed as he began to push into her, doing so at an agonising pace from which they both closed their eyes, her fleshy insides hot and tight, pulsing all around him, sucking him inside.

"− ah − yes −" She whispered and he licked his lips, forcing her to fit it all in with deep, slow thrust of his fat cock, his large palms digging into the pleasantly soft skin of her plump buttocks as she mewled from exertion.

"− fuck −" She mumbled, obviously surprised by his size and how shocking the sensation was after such a long period of sexual abstinence, his manhood all sticky with her moisture.

She put her arms around his neck as he slid out of her slowly almost all the way, only to sink again into her warm walls with a calm, unhurried motion of his hips, both of them watching as his swollen length spread her wide open.

"− fuckin' knew it − just look at it − such a perfect little pussy −" He purred out delighted with the sensation, never having done it this way before in his life, his cock twitched all over with pleasure deep inside her, making him know he wouldn't last long.

Although he could just take what he wanted, he liked what he felt, the heat and tension wonderfully filling his lower abdomen each time the thrust of his hips forced him inside her warm, pulsing core again.

He pressed his forehead against hers when he heard her first shy moans, running his lips over hers, puffy, moist and soft, not giving her full kisses, speeding up suddenly, their naked bodies smacking against each other with loud, sticky splats.

"− oh God −" She whimpered, stroking his neck and cheeks. She burshed his lips tentatively, looking up at him with dreamy eyes as his cock slammed deep into her delicate body again and again – he grabbed her by the hair with one hand, tilting her head back with a brutal movement of his arm.

"− when you need to fuck, you will come to me − if I catch you touching yourself, you'll suck my cock until you start chokin' on my cum, that's how many times I'm going to come down your throat − got it? −" He exhaled in between sure, deep, aggressive thrusts, his cock rooting into her faster and faster with loud slaps of his naked thighs against her buttocks, barely slipping out of her – he felt her clench hard on him at his words, giving him a wonderful squeeze from which he groaned low.

"− y-yes −" She mumbled, responding to his thrusts by bucking her hips out towards him – he snorted, smirking spitefully, somehow impressed by her devotion, his thighs all sticky from her moisture.

"− that's my girl − fuck, 'm close −" He gasped in delight, pounding into her like mad, the tips of his fingers digging into her hot, firm buttocks.

"− n-no, not inside me! −" She mewled out but he closed her mouth with his, forcing his tongue deep into her throat, muffling her moans, clamping his hands firmly on her ass so she couldn't escape him, cumming with a loud sigh of relief, his warm semen spilling deep inside her.

She cried out in rage and slapped his shoulder, clenching her eyes shut, coming hard on his cock. He felt convulsions run through her whole body, her walls began to clench against him and suck him inside – he kept pounding into her for a while with sloppy, messy thrusts of his hips.

He pushed her closer to him with a brutal gesture, embracing her around the waist, his other hand holding her hair so that her puffy, sweet lips didn't pull away from his, kissing her lazily for a while longer, continuing to rock inside her with the lewd click of their shared moisture.

He pressed his forehead against hers, breathing hard, looking at her with curiosity and satisfaction, thinking that perhaps they would find common ground after all.

"− see you tomorrow − and no fuckin' touching −"

_____

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