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meazalykov · 17 days ago

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shooters shoot

catarina macario x f!uswnt!reader with features of platonic!trinity rodman x f!uswnt!reader

your team at chelsea does not know that you're bold, so you take your confession to a crush to the next level

you’re sprawled across your couch in your london flat, the early morning light filtering through the blinds. it’s 6am, and your phone is propped up on a cushion, trinity’s face filling the screen.

your bestfriend's pink braids are loose, swinging as she moves around her dc apartment. it’s 11pm for her, and she’s buzzing, her energy practically vibrating through the facetime call.

you’re in a yankees hat, the brim pulled low, and a chelsea blue hoodie that’s a size too big, your go-to for these morning chats.

“y/n, i’m freaking out!” trinity says, her voice a mix of glee and disbelief. she’s pacing her living room, holding her phone so close you can see the glitter of her earrings.

“did you see that ben posted his own tiktok too? is that a hard launch? oh my god, the comments are wild and everyone won't stop blowing me up about it.”

you grin, sipping coffee from a chipped mug.

“girl, we were on call when you posted it... remember? you and ben are just out here breaking the internet.. I mean a tennis star and an espresso shot from the us women's team? of course the fans are eating it up... they love anything that involves being nosey.”

trinity laughs, flopping onto her couch.

“i didn’t think he’d go that big, you know? like, we talked about it, but then he posted that photo and then that tiktok??? i screamed, y/n. I fucking screamed!!”

you laugh, nearly spilling your coffee.

“it’s so extra but you two are cute, though. the washington spirit girls must be losing it.”

“oh, they are,” trinity says, rolling her eyes.

“croix already joked about planning a team dinner to ‘celebrate my glow-up.’ like, chill.” she pauses, then leans closer to the screen, her voice dropping.

“but, like… what do you think? about the whole public thing?”

you tilt your head, catching the shift in her tone.

“it’s bold. i mean, you and ben are solid, so it works. why? you regretting it?”

“no, no,” she says quickly, waving a hand.

“i love it. it’s just… i don’t know. it’s a lot but it feels good, you know? like, we’re out here, no hiding.” she starts pulling her braids into a ponytail, her fingers moving fast, “you ever think about doing something like that?”

you freeze with your mug halfway to your lips, “me? like, a hard launch? trin, i’d need someone to launch with first.”

trinity raises an eyebrow, tying off her ponytail.

“don’t play dumb with me, y/n. you’ve been acting all weird each camp since we came back from our injuries after the olympics... who’s got you smiling at your phone?”

your stomach flips. you set your mug down, tugging at the strings of your hoodie, “i don’t smile at my phone.”

“liar,” she says, smirking.

“spill. who is it? I know its someone we play with.”

you hesitate, glancing at the ceiling like it’ll give you an out but it’s trinity aka your best friend since you were kids, the one who knows every embarrassing story from your first uswnt camp. you sigh, leaning back into the couch.

“fine. it’s… catarina.”

trinity’s jaw drops, then she bursts out laughing, clapping her hands.

“catarina? as in catarina macario, HUHHHHH???? our teammate? your chelsea teammate? oh, that’s so obvious!”

she says that in the most sarcastic voice imaginable^

you scoff, crossing your arms.

“shut the hell up, trin.”

she’s still laughing, her head thrown back.

“im joking but no, no, it’s perfect. that shit was clearly obvious but you’re just out here crushing on cat, and it’s written all over your face. I'm fucking dying.”

“you’re the worst,” you mutter, but you’re smiling.

“it’s not that serious though. i just… like her. a lot.”

trinity wipes her eyes, calming down.

“okay, but real talk? you should do what me and ben did. post something cute, tag her, make it official.”

you shake your head, your heart racing at the thought.

“trin, you and ben were already together when you did that. i can’t just… shoot my shot like that. what if it freaks her out?”

trinity leans forward, her face serious now.

“can i tell you something, you have to promise to not tell anyone?”

you narrow your eyes.

“sure.”

she takes a deep breath, like she’s about to drop a bomb.

“last camp catarina was talking to lily, alyssa, lindsey, and sonnet and… she admitted she likes you.”

your brain short-circuits.

“what?”

“yep,” trinity says, nodding.

“she was all shy about it, but she told them she’s into you after lily questioned her about it... like, for real.”

you sit up, your hat nearly falling off.

“trin, if you’re lying, I'm booking a flight to dulles airport and killing you.”

“i’m not lying!” she says, holding up her hands.

“I swear on my spirit contract.”

you stare at her, your mind spinning. catarina likes you? catarina, with her quiet confidence and her laugh that makes your chest feel tight?

you swallow hard, trying to process, “okay… fine. maybe i’ll do it.”

trinity’s eyes light up, “the tiktok trend I did? the ‘shooters shoot’ one?”

you nod, already feeling the nerves.

“yeah. it’s funny, and… i don’t know. it’s less scary since you know I fuck with humor.”

“i can’t wait,” trinity says, grinning.

“you’re gonna shock everyone with that shit!”

later that day, you’re back on your couch, your phone in hand. you’ve got the tiktok app open, the audio already picked: “they say shooters shoot… ah huh… duke dennis, what’s up with you?”

it’s a vibe, catchy and bold, perfect for what you’re about to do. you’re still in your yankees hat and chelsea hoodie, the outfit feeling like armor.

you take a deep breath, hit record, and let the audio play.

on the screen, you keep it simple. just text and no full name that shows you're talking about your chelsea teammate.

“-------- -------, what’s up with you?”

you count the dashes carefully with catarina’s first and last name, without actually typing it. you post it before you can overthink, your heart pounding as the video goes live.

within minutes, your notifications explode.

your tiktok is no stranger to attention since you post a lot, from training clips to goofy dances with trinity or other teammates like alyssa back home and mille from chelsea.

however, you see that fans are losing it, speculating in the comments.

“who’s the mystery girl?”

“y/n’s shooting her shot what the hell???!”

"trinity got her to do ts I bet"

“those dashes… wait a minute!”

you scroll through, your cheeks burning. some uswnt teammates are in on it too.

tara comments, “oh, we know 👀.”

giselle drops a fire emoji and even some chelsea girls are chiming in.

you’re equal parts thrilled and terrified.

the next country over from you in england... lily, chilling in the netherlands, sees the tiktok and immediately sends it to catarina with a single smirk emoji.

catarina watches it, her lips curling into a smile. she laughs, her cheeks flushing.

“wha-what? that is crazy,”

she mutters to herself, but she can’t stop watching it.

the next day, you’re at chelsea’s training facility, and the locker room is a minefield.

you walk in, head down, knowing exactly what’s coming.

catarina’s already there, sitting on the bench next to your spot, lacing up her boots. you glance at her, and she smiles...soft, but with a spark that makes your stomach flip.

“well, well, well,” sam says, striding in with a grin.

“look at tiktok star y/n, shooting her shot.”

you groan, tossing your bag into your locker.

“can you not?”

“nope,” sam says, popping the ‘p.’

“you’re famous now. that video already reached nearly 200 thousand likes and everybody is dropping every athletes name in the book to figure out who you're talking about... iconic.”

lucy joins in, leaning against the lockers.

“ona sent me the video and i’m just saying, y/n, those dashes were very specific.”

you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling.

“y’all are annoying.”

catarina’s quiet, but you catch her glancing at you, her smile growing and you smile back at her with a sparkler in your eyes.

sam notices and gags dramatically, “oh my god, you two are so gay.”

you turn to sam raising an eyebrow, “says the woman whose american fiancé is pregnant with your kid. who’s also my godson, by the way. maybe we’re all just gay in here!”

the room erupts in laughter.

millie, ever the straight ally, shakes her head, “not me.”

you smirk, “you look gay, though.”

millie cackles pointing at you, “fair, but don’t change the subject. that tiktok was about catarina, wasn’t it?”

you don’t deny it, just shrug, your cheeks burning.

catarina’s still next to you, and you feel her shoulder brush yours.

it’s enough to make your heart skip.

after training, you’re walking to the parking lot when catarina catches up to you.

“hey,” she says, her voice soft but teasing.

“can i get a ride?”

“yeah, of course,” you say, trying to play it cool despite the butterflies in your chest. you unlock your car, and she slides into the passenger seat.

as you drive, the silence is comfortable, but you can feel her watching you. finally, she speaks.

“so… that tiktok. was it really about me?”

you grip the steering wheel, your face hot.

“yeah. i mean… i didn’t want to, like, freak you out but yeah. trinity thought it would be funny and I know humor is kinda like our thing so...”

she laughs, and it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard.

“damn you pulled a trinity and ben on me. i can’t believe it.”

you glance at her catching the way her eyes sparkle back at you, “too much?”

“no,” she says, shaking her head.

“it was cute... very cute.”

you pull up to her apartment, and before you can say anything, she turns to you.

"y/n, i… i like you. like, a lot. i didn’t know how to say it before without any of our teammates getting in the way but… yeah.”

your heart stops, then starts again, faster.

“i like you too, cat. a lot.”

she smiles, and it’s like the sun coming out.

“so…”

you take a deep breath, feeling bold.

“how about a date? do you remember that one rooftop restaurant you and mia took me to back in san diego last year. it was a beautiful place that overlooked the beaches. we could have our first date here but we’ve got national break in a few days so... are you in?”

“i’m in,” she says, leaning over to kiss you.

it was a quick peck, but it causes a smile to break through you anyways.

“it’s a date.” you mumbled against her lips.

you watch her walk into her building, your heart bursting.

when you get home, you text trinity.

y/n:

i did it. date with cat. you were right.

trinity four seconds later:

TOLD YOU.

shooters shoot, y/n.

i’m proud.

you laugh, sinking into your couch, already counting down the days until you are in san diego.

#catarina macario #catarina macario x reader #uswnt #trinity rodman #trinity rodman x reader #ben shelton #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #Chelsea fcw #Chelsea women #woso #womens football #wlw #Sophia smith #naomi girma #Naomi girma x reader

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skhv67 · 3 months ago

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rivals to lovers – dae-ho x fem!reader

a/n: its high key one-sided because dae-ho is a sweetheart. fluff, tiniest bit of angst, smut. (PLEASE ONLY +18)

tw: written at 6am 😔🤙 probably ooc

wc: 2.364

SUMMARY: you and dae-ho are academic rivals… of at least that’s what you thought.

• You two have known each other since the first year of university. You couldn’t forget because the very first day of college he corrected you when you were answering your teacher’s question.

• You glared at him with a sour expression, but he was just looking at you with a soft smile and he even nodded at you as if he had done you a favor.

• Despite literally nobody else caring about this interaction, it didn’t leave your mind. In fact, from that moment you’d hyperfocus every time he’d speak up in class.

• Poor thing will probably think you’re looking at him with good intentions, that when you avoided eye contact or went quiet around him was because he made you nervous.

• You actually thought his interventions were pretentious and the little smiles he flashed at you when he ‘helped you out’ were just a subtle way to mock you without looking like a twat.

• When you two were paired during the third year to do the most important project of your sociology class you wanted to end it all there and then.

• The first few times you had to hang out outside college were awkward. You were defensive when he brought up -seemingly- better points than you and you didn’t reply to any of his attempts at being friendly and funny.

• All he got from you were sighs, frowns and a cold shoulder, which confused him because until then he just thought you were just shy.

• He had to ask his older sisters for advice.

• BONK! This woman hates you, you really thought she was into you?

• What a bummer.

• The next times you had to hang out were a bit more awkward, because he was trying even HARDER to make you stop disliking him. Spoiler: it was doing the opposite.

• You weren’t blind to the way every girl in your year swooned over him. He was charming and attractive, he got good grades, he was also helpful and kind… But you couldn’t help but think it was all disingenuous. His help felt like a knife, like he was poking at your insecurities just to feel superior when he lent you a hand.

• The day he was trying to schedule a day for you two to meet up to finish up the project you were especially sensitive and unfortunately one of his jokes to ease the nerves he felt around you didn’t land as he was hoping to.

• ‘’Can you leave me the fuck alone? I’m not interested in being your friend, I can’t wait for this to be over to not have to talk to you anymore!’’

• Ouch.

• After that he only sent you a message with the time and the café you were going to meet to finish the project. No stickers, no emojis nor smiley faces. You wanted to celebrate your triumph but the way your heart started racing nervously confused you.

• The days until the meet up were weird, he wouldn’t attempt to talk to you in class, if he had to interact with you it was brief and distant, and he looked away if your eyes ever connected.

• Your mind was screaming with pride that you were right all along, and all his kindness was just a cover up. This newfound coldness was how he truly was once you called on his bullshit.

• Your heart, however, felt quite the opposite. You were fighting for your life to not text him a polite apology for the embarrassing outburst you had.

• The day came and when you arrive at the café you notice him barely sparing you a glance before looking back down at his laptop.

• The meet up was shorter than usual. And awkward.

• The silence he usually filled with corny jokes felt heavy and you were too embarrassed to admit to yourself that you kind of missed seeing his smile.

• As you finished the conclusion, he thanked you politely for your work and didn’t waste any time getting ready to leave.

• Despite your deepest need to say something, you took all your things and left the café after him.

• Or attempted.

• You let the heaviest sigh seeing the rain pouring in front of your umbrella-less self. You contemplate texting any of your siblings to come get you instead of doing the ten-minute long walk to the bus stop without even a hood to protect yourself.

• Not too long passes until you notice a figure stopping in front of you.

• Now you truly wanted to end it all.

• Dae-ho looks at you with hesitance, not too confident in offering you his umbrella to shield you from the rain.

• ‘’Where’s your car?’’ he subtly looked at your trembling hands, knuckles red from the cold.

• ‘’I’m taking the bus’’ you whispered.

• Yeah, you’re crazy if you think this man is gonna let you walk to the bus stop, let alone wait in the cold until the bus arrives.

• He nodded towards the parking lot silently indicating you to come with him.

• Well, you also don’t want to die from hypothermia, so what other choice do you have.

• Squishing yourself next to him to fit under his umbrella, you felt the warmth of his body and his perfume overwhelm your senses. Was he ever this annoyingly attractive or were you losing your mind?

• If the walk under his umbrella was bad the car ride was even WORSE.

• The silence was so heavy and uncomfortable, he looked at you from the corner of his eye to check if you were in the mood to hear him talk. Much to his surprise he saw your tense form clenching your fists and looking in front of you in an almost robotic way.

• You noticed him looking at you, because naturally he wasn't as subtle has he thought he was.

• "Should I check your pulse? You're scaring me"

• You blinked at him and then let out a little giggle.

• Okay now HE was tripping because why did his heart skip a beat at the sound. He even dared to stare at you (for more than three seconds, a record that week) and he felt his face heat up at the sight of your little smile. Dae-ho never realized that he had never seen your smile before. You had never laughed at anything he's said no matter how hard he had tried and you hadn't granted him the pleasure to see what he confirmed just then to be the most beautiful smile he had ever laid his eyes on.

• The tension he had been keeping in all week finally left his body and he kept making light jokes testing the waters. Once he saw you were at ease he let his personality shine again.

• The ride to your house was painfully short, and it pained you to admit that you could see why all your classmates would die to get a chance with him.

• It was hard to admit that maybe you were wrong and he had always been as sweet as he seemed.

• The following week he's literally glued to you.

• You made the decision of laughing at something he said once and now this man is in love with you, congratulations.

• He doesn't even try to hide his excitement everytime he sees you and as time passes he even teases the idea of going on a date. You're also lucky enough to hear some of his corny pick up lines.

• You two go to a café date (well it wasn't officially a date, but it was in his mind).

• There he tells you about his family. Him growing up with four older sisters made everything make sense to you and your heart broke when he said was disappointed that he decided being a nurse instead of studying law or medicine.

• You also tell him about you aspirations and your passion for the field and he's looking at you enthralled hanging on every word that came out of your lips.

• Talking about that, at some point while you're complaining about thing #130 today he finds himself lost in you lips. He traces the shape with his eyes and imagines parting them with his tongue He wonders about the taste of your lip balm and if they're as soft as they look right now.

• You'd think he'd be a bit more confident being caught doing this considering he was being quite obvious about it but the second he sees you looking at him he panics like crazy.

• You laugh it off and as the gentleman he is he gets you home safe and sound.

• That summer he decides he's going to officially make a move.

• (he doesn't)

• Summer made you inseparable and you couldn't understand how many years you've wasted hating him undeservingly.

• This time you were both hanging out in your room. You two had made a habit out of watching a movie once a week and would play rock, papers, scissor to see who would host and pay for the take out.

• Tonight you had lost and unfortunately for you he got to choose the film as well.

• The only good part of this was seeing him being an absolute nerd about it when you tried to argue about the plot holes of the movie.

• He was passionately exposing his points for you and you couldn't hear a single thing he was saying, too busy getting slowly closer to him.

• He had been so busy trying to prove his point that he doesn't notice your pretty eyes right in front of him and your noses practically brushing.

• It wasn't until he felt your hot breath against your lips that he came back down to reality. He froze in his seat and looked at you wide eyed.

• For a moment you think you might've even misunderstood every single interaction you two have had until now so you were about to turn away until he finally decided to react and grabbed your arm.

• The grip was firm but gentle, letting you know that you weren't getting away from him anytime soon. He looked at you doe eyed and used his free hand to bring you closer to him making you straddle him.

• "Can you fucking kiss me already?"

• He wastes no time connecting your lips and he lets out a breath he had been holding for what felt like ages.

• He finally got to slide his tongue against your bottom lip, savoring a slight taste of cherry. He smiled into the kiss, finally confirming his suspicions.

• A whine left his lips when you yanked his hair back roughly to get better access to his neck, to which he did not add any resistance.

• It only takes a few wet kisses down the column of his throat and a breathy "pretty boy" for him to get hard underneath you.

• Your jaw clenches when he starts rocking your hips back and forth over his hard on to relieve himself while he looked at you almost sorry to be manhandling you like that.

• As much as you enjoy him taking the initiative, you quickly take over and start grinding the bulge on his pants, feeling yourself pulsing against your panties at the friction.

• His needy eyes look at the scene before him taking in all the noises that came out of your mouth.

• A shaky breath leaves his soft lips when you sink your hand into his pants to palm him over his boxers.

• "Please"

• A smug smile creeps into your face when he finally gave you the sign you've been waiting for.

• Hurriedly you both take off each other's clothes while still placing messy kisses wherever you could.

• He looked down at your pussy with a nasty look of hunger you didn't expect of him and you knew then that if you hadn't stopped him there he would've placed you in your desk and devoured you whole in a second.

• "Another time, please, I need you" you beg in his ear before gently biting his earlobe.

• He nods profusely as he started stroking his flushed length in his hand to spread the slick of his tip along his dick.

• He holds you over him and drops you slowly on his length, chest heaving and long locks sticking to his face, framing it so perfectly.

• You clench around him as you reach the base and he mumbles a soft "fuck" under his breath. You press a needy kiss against his lips and nibble at his bottom lip.

• He starts sinking you down his dick with an indescribable urge, and you quickly start riding him as fast as your stamina let you.

• Even if you get tired don't worry because this man is already holding your hips and meeting you halfway.

• Your moans start turning into cries and his pace speeds up as soon as he realizes you're close.

• "C'mon, come for me baby" he grunted against your lips.

• With that you start trembling against his thighs and let go. You keep riding him through your climax and he soon enough comes too holding you impossibly closer to him.

• He held you in his hands while you came down from your high and placed you gently in your bed to proceed cleaning you up.

• Your face when you see both of you through the mirror (and the disgusted little "sticky" you mumbled at the sight of your glistening skin) convinced him to take you both to take a bath instead.

• "Hope this doesn't make you think I like you or something though" you looked at him through your lashes with a smirk on your reddened lips.

• "Sure" he laughed it off.

#dae ho #dae ho x reader #squid game #squid game oneshot #squid game x reader #dae ho headcanons #dae-ho x reader #dae-ho #kang dae-ho #kang dae-ho x reader

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yan-lorkai · 6 months ago

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I’m not sure if I can request this and I don’t know much about Halloween but I can totally imagine the first year gang starting a little pumpkin farm at Ramshackle. They’d carve pumpkins together and maybe sell some of them to earn a little pocket money

If it’s too much, no worries. just ignore this. Have a great day

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: This is such a lovely idea tbh, now i kinda of want to do something like this with my friends aaaa. This was supposed to be posted at 6am as always and i forget to queue it lol. Anyway, enjoy it darling!

The Ramshackle Dorm had never been busier nor more vibrant than now. It all started with a simple idea from Ace: “Hey, why don’t we grow some pumpkins here?” he had said a sunny afternoon, eyes glinting with mischief as gestured to the dead garden of his dorm.

“We can carve them for Halloween, and maybe even sell a few. Easy money, right?” He turned to Epel, who, just as mischievously, nodded.

With a few enthusiastic nods from Jack and Deuce, the plan was set in motion. Soon, even Sebek, who had initially scoffed at the idea as "a frivolous waste of time," found himself secretly invested when Malleus found out and praised him for having a hobby with a bunch of friends.

Days turned into weeks, and the once dead, wild yard of the Ramshackle Dorm was transformed. The first-year gang tilled the soil, planted seeds, and tended to their patch diligently. They took turns watering the sprouts, pulling out weeds, and shooing away curious crows. It was hard work, but there was a certain joy in it.

Jack took special pride in watching the tiny green shoots grow into fat, round pumpkins, while Epel appreciated the physical labor - he said that in that way he could gain muscles. Ace and Deuce made it a game, challenging each other to see who could grow the biggest pumpkin, which led to much bickering and laughter.

The yard was filled with the warm, earthy scent of pumpkins, and the air was filled with laughter. Each carved pumpkin was a reflection of its creator, scattered around the steps and windows of Ramshackle, glowing with flickering candles as the sun dipped below the horizon.

As the pumpkins ripened, the dorm's front yard slowly turned into a sea of orange, each pumpkin unique in size and shape. On one particularly crisp afternoon, as Halloween approached, they gathered around to start carving. Carving tools in hand, they sat in a circle, some humming, others chatting about what designs they’d make.

Ace boasted that he would create the scariest face, while Deuce shyly admitted he wanted to make a pumpkin with a cute smile so he could take a photo and sent it to his mother. Epel’s was, of course, carved with incredible detai l— a miniature masterpiece of intricate patterns, as he was used to carve apples. Jack’s was simple and classic, just like him. And Sebek, determined to outshine the rest, carved an elaborate dragon that he claimed was a tribute to his master, Malleus.

“Not bad, huh?” Ace said, admiring their work. “I mean, I could probably sell mine for way more than any of yours, but still.” He smirked, dodging a playful punch from Deuce.

“We’ll see about that,” You shot back, wiping your hands on your overalls. “Who wouldn’t want to buy one of mine?”

Throughout the day, the first-years ran the stand, chatting with students and selling their carved pumpkins. Sebek was surprisingly the best salesperson, his loud voice catching everyone’s attention and his pride making each pumpkin sound like a royal treasure. Epel made sure every customer left with a smile, slipping them a little extra vine or a perfect pumpkin seed as a token. Even Grim, though not directly involved in the growing process, found himself helping out, lured by the promise of sharing in the profits.

With their pumpkins carved, the group turned to the next phase of their plan. They set up a small stand by the gate, decorating it with the leftover vines and smaller pumpkins. A hand-painted sign read, "Pumpkins for Sale! Buy 1, Get 1 Free (if you can guess who carved it)!" It was Ace’s idea, of course, to add a little game to attract more customers. They were soon joined by curious students from other dorms, many who had heard about the little farm project and wanted to see the fruits (or rather, gourds) of their labor.

You still were surprised that their idea really attracted people. Even Sam was there, examining the pumpkins.

By the end of the evening, the pumpkin patch looked a bit emptier, but your pockets were a little heavier. All of you were tired, but it was the good kind of tired, where your cheeks hurt from smiling and your muscles ache in a satisfying way. As you sat together on the steps of Ramshackle, trapped between Deuce and Ace, watching the last of the daylight fade, there was a warm sense of accomplishment between them.

“This was a good idea,” Jack said, breaking the comfortable silence. “We should do it again next year.”

“Yeah,” Epel said, stretching out his arms. “Maybe we’ll even beat the big guys at their own game. Imagine if this little patch becomes the talk of Halloween.”

"What if other dorms try to do something like this, though?" You asked them.

You had so much fun those past few months, working at their side after clubs ended and the homework was made. You laughed, you chased them when they teamed up to tease you. Overall, it was the most fun you had since coming to this world.

Ace, who was using your left shoulder as a pillow, leaned up so he could see your eyes. "If this happens..." he looked at the other boys before catching your eyes again. "Then we'll crush them, no doubt."

"Figuratively speaking, right?"

Deuce smiled spread through his face as Epel laughed and Sebek and Jack tried to hide their face from you.

"Yeah... Figuratively speaking, of course, Prefect."

The others nodded, their eyes bright with ideas about what to do if the other students tried to do something like that.

As the night settled in, the carved pumpkins flickered warmly, casting playful shadows across the yard. And you felt as if, for just a moment, like you were back home with your small, happy family — gathered around a shared project, their laughter and camaraderie filling the air with something brighter than any candle could provide.

If you were here the next year, then you wanted to do the same thing with them again. And if you aren't... You wanted them to continue that little tradition.

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gloomweed · 5 months ago

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Metal as Fuck

a/n: was having a bad period last month and my only cure was to fantasize about Eddie taking care of me. here's this little blurb I came up with so all of us with a period can cope.

warning: discussions of menstruation and blood, but nothing graphic wc: 1500~

It was that time of the month again, and it was positively aggressive this time around. Despite wearing a pad to bed, you wake in the early hours of the morning to a wet feeling in your nether regions. You pull your comforter back in a panic to see you’ve bled through your pajama pants and onto your sheets. “Goddamn it,” you swore under your breath at the sight of the mess. After cleaning up, soiled sheets and clothes in the wash and body freshly showered, you began to feel that familiar ache between your hips. Not only was it the muscles in your back at the base of your spine, but also just below your stomach. Kneading the flesh of your lower back with a grimace, you make your way to the medicine cabinet for some pain killers.

It’s only when you notice it’s missing that you remember that you used the last of it last month. Pills clatter as you search for any alternative you might have, but ultimately you find none. Giving up with a huff, head thrown back towards the ceiling, your brows furrow in annoyance as you run through your options. You really didn’t feel like going to the store right now, not when you feel like absolute shit. At the same time, if you don’t go you’re only going to continue to feel like shit for the rest of the evening. The pain in your abdomen is distracting you to the point you struggle to make a decision. Waking up so much earlier than usual was also not helping your thought process. Instead of choosing either choice, you curl up on the couch, laying under a throw blanket telling yourself you’ll go to the store later.

An hour later, you’re awoken by the sound of the front door opening. Eddie makes his way in with the clatter of keys and heavy steps in his work boots. He toes them off at the door before turning to see you laying on the couch instead of sleeping soundly in your bed. Seeing your messy hair and sleepy squinted eyes, Eddie frowns apologetically. “Sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He keeps his voice soft, not wanting to wake you up any further. After hanging his jacket on the coat hook, he strides over to place a kiss on the crown of your head as he snuggles up next to you. He puts his arms around you in a loose hug, simply holding you, as he huffs out a quiet yawn. “What are you doing out here?”

Picking the crust out from the corner of your eye, you sigh with frustration. “I’m just having a shitty day.”

Eddie eyebrows pinch together, a small smirk on his face as he sits up. “It’s only,” he pauses to take a look at his watch, “6am. How is your day already shitty?”

You mindlessly pick at a loose thread on your shirt as you recall your morning. “I bled through my pants and onto the bed, so I had to clean all that up, and even though I threw it all in the wash as soon as possible, I'm still worried that my underwear is gonna be stained.” You sigh, “And I just bought that pair.”

The nonchalance with which you shrug it off makes Eddie feel crazy. He knows that if he were in your shoes, he'd be unfathomably pissed if not terrified of the impromptu blood loss, but to you it's just another day. “Anyways, then I started having these horrible cramps. Like in my stomach and in my back at the same time. I would’ve taken some pain meds but we’re all out and I felt too shitty to go and get some more, so I just curled up on the couch hoping it would go away on its own which I know is not really productive, but-“ Eddie cuts off your tired rambling with another kiss to your head before pushing off of his knees with a groan, standing from the couch. “Wait- Where are you going?”

He begins to slip his shoes on, not even bothering to look up at you as he answers. “Going to the store.”

You feel a sharp pang of fear that Eddie interpreted your venting as you demanding he fix it. “Oh, baby you don’t have to do that. You just got home from work, let me go and get it later. It’s not an emergency or anything.”

Eddie smiles as he puts his jacket on. “You act like I’m gonna be pushing a rock up a mountain or something.” He faces you and shrugs, hands in his pockets. “I’ll be back in like 15 minutes, tops.”

“Well I just… I don’t want to annoy you with it.” You shyly fiddle with the blanket in your lap. The little pout on your lips has Eddie smiling.

“Why not? You annoy me with plenty of other stuff.” His playful smirk brightens at the sight of your offended face. Eddie flinches away from the decorative pillow you lob at him from the couch. “I'm kidding, obviously,” he laughs. “Besides, you can't annoy me, sweetheart. As someone who actually is annoying, I pretty much have built up a tolerance for it. I’m unannoyable.” He rolls his shoulders back, boasting his self described title.

You smile at the sentiment. “I just mean, I don't want you to feel like you have to fix things for me. I was only venting, you know? I've dealt with a bad period before and I know I'll deal with a bad period again.” You shrug, “I'm used to it.”

Eddie's arms fall to his sides with a thump, looking at you in disbelief and partly sorrow. “Just because you're used to it doesn't mean I can't make it better.”

His words leave you feeling a little stunned. “Oh.” Eddie makes it sound so simple, and really you knew that, but it was as if you never applied the concept to this situation before. When you think about bettering your life, it's usually things that are more tangible. Like reorganizing the closet, or giving that old dresser a fresh coat of paint, or sewing up a rip in a hoodie. Letting yourself be taken care of wasn’t something you had in mind.

From the beginning of first dealing with the burden of having a period, you were always told to just suck it up and accept it. After all, it was something nearly half of the Earth's population has to deal with. It wasn't like you were different and deserving of special treatment. There was also the matter of feeling like it was something you couldn’t bring up, not to mention the embarrassment of having an uncontrollable bodily function. Periods were something to be ashamed of and never openly discussed. At least, that’s how you were raised. It felt like a forbidden topic, so how were you ever meant to seek any kind of help for it? Seeing people take care of their loved ones who are on their period is something you didn't grow up seeing, so it never even occurred to you.

Eddie takes a step closer to hold your hands. When your spaced out expression focuses on his intense button eyes, he tilts his head to his shoulder with a closed lip smile. “I want to take care of you, sweetheart. Even if you think you don't need it because you're super fuckin’ metal.” Despite the scoff that brushes passed your lips, you're still smiling. “I'm serious!” Eddie insists. “You woke up in a puddle of blood and you brushed it off like it was nothing. That's metal as fuck.”

The way he stares with so much genuine love and admiration makes you blush. As is your way, you try to downplay the compliment anyways. “I don't think that counts as metal, Eds.”

“Well it does to me.” Still holding your hands, he swings them from side to side with a childlike smirk before dipping down for a kiss. Eddie hums contentedly against your lips as you snake your arms around each other. When your hands reach up to tangle at the hairs on the nape of his neck, his hands cradle your face, the rough pads of his thumbs brushing over the apples of your cheeks. Eventually, you separate with a quiet smack, Eddie walking backwards towards the door once again. He nearly trips on the pillow you threw earlier as he keeps his eyes intently on you. “I'll be back with some pain reliever and some of that candy you like. Okay?”

Your face feels hot as you reply in a small voice. “Okay. Thank you, Eddie.” It's only when he's got a foot out the door that you find the courage to shout after him, “I love you!” Eddie is quick to turn around and shout back, “loveyoumore!” his urgency stringing his words into one. He tucks his chin in to give you a pointed look, as if shutting down all arguments about it before closing the door. All you can do is stare after him, your knight in dull black leather, and grin, hopelessly in love.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #fluff #stranger things #eddie munson oneshot #gloomweed writes #comfort fic #i know it's been said a million times #but periods suck am i right?

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holllandtrash · 2 years ago

Text

fragile line | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader

You and I walk a fragile line I have known it all this time But I never thought I'd live to see it break

what happens when the driver daniel falls in love with, ends up being the one who brings his career to a screeching halt? word count: 7.7k (im so sorry) warnings/tags: fluff-ish, plot with implied/very little smut, angst, mclaren danny, zak brown (gross), some incorrect f2 stats but whatever, time jumps, really just a lot of angst, its a rollercoaster

“What do you know?”

“What do you know?” Daniel repeated the question back to you, the emphasis making it clear as day that you both carried the same career-altering information.

His signature grin and comforting optimism were nowhere to be seen. Instead, Daniel’s expression could be described in a variety of ways. Solemn, disappointed, hurt.

“What was I supposed to do?” You asked, going straight to the defensive. You couldn’t be helpful in this scenario, you just needed to explain yourself. He wouldn’t understand it from your perspective, but you had to try.

“Not take the seat,” he offered a solution, as if it was that simple. “My god, I mean, they’re cutting my contract early, Y/N. For you.”

“For the sake of the team,” you corrected. You had no say in this. McLaren had plenty of driver options for the 2023 season. There were rumours of Daniel’s contract coming to an end a year early anyway, everyone heard them, everyone ignored them. The only thing that remained uncertain for a while was who would replace him should the rumours be true.

You.

“You don’t even like McLaren.” You told him, voice raising a little as if that helped get the point across. “You’ve struggled with this team since day one.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to stop racing.”

“McLaren is not the team for you and you know this.”

Daniel scoffed, eyebrows twitching, “Did Zak tell you to say that?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Daniel noticed the way your bottom lip quivered. He caught the way your eyes dropped from his, even just for a split second. There was something unspoken between you, something that weighed on your mind and Daniel stepped forward, wanting to know what exactly it was.

“Zak-” you started, reluctant to even say this. “-he doesn’t know I’m here. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to talk to you or anyone about it, not until your announcement comes out.”

Here meaning Daniel’s flat in Monaco. The place you spent more nights at than your own. You played it off by saying his view was better but that was such a bullshit answer. Daniel’s flat always felt more like home than yours ever did.

You had formally met the Australian driver a few years ago, but god did time fly. It was at a race in Monza. You could pretend you didn’t know the date but of course you did, you had it memorised. September 3rd, 2020. There was no way you could forget the day your life changed for the better.

Or possibly, for the worse. It was up in the air at this point.

You were new to the Formula 2 series. The only female driver on the grid as you raced with Prema alongside Mick Schumacher. F3 proved to be quite a successful stint for you and you had your eyes set on the coveted Formula 1 series. You wanted to be in the big leagues.

Daniel saw that. He saw how determined you were to not only make waves in Motorsport, but to make something of yourself. You trained just as hard, if not harder than the other drivers in the junior series and Daniel had seen that for a while. He was often surprised to see you at the hotel gym, already working up a sweat when he walked in at a little after 6am. He would be even more surprised when he saw you there in the evening when other drivers went and called it a night or even went and celebrated.

Your race weekends were the same as F1 weekends, but you just had limited ones. It was a shorter season, less intense, but whenever you were there. Daniel saw you. He saw you and he paid attention. He even rooted for you, very publicly as well whenever he could, despite the two of you never having exchanged a word.

The first time you heard about Daniel cheering you on was after the Monaco race, quite early on into your first season. You qualified 7th, not ideal for a track like Monaco where the opportunities to overtake were far and few between, but somehow you did it. And then you did it again. And you could say it was luck but it was really smart strategy and an insane amount of driver skill that had you finishing fifth. In Monaco.

Those were Daniel’s words. He was asked pre-race if he watched the F2 run and he said of course. He said he “wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” wanting to see what you could do this weekend.

“It’s not luck, she’s incredibly talented,” Daniel had told the Sky Sports reporter. “She’s doing big things in the series, and I’m rooting for her. Truly. It’s rare a driver comes around with such raw natural talent, where you look at them and you know racing’s just in their blood, but it’s in hers. I would love to see her in Formula 1 one day.”

You watched that interview clip about twenty times. Daniel Ricciardo, the Daniel Ricciardo who had won Monaco a few years back, was complimenting you. He was rooting for you.

It wasn’t until Monza, nearing the end of your season that he finally approached you.

“I want to work with you,” Daniel said, straight to the point. You were in the middle of stretching in the hotel's fitness centre. It was only Thursday, the race weekend itself had barely started but Daniel knew he’d find you in there.

You pulled your airpods out and looked up at him in the mirror, “You what?”

“I want to work with you,” Daniel repeated, this time sitting down on the floor next to you. He kept your stare in the reflection. “I’m not a trainer by any means, but I want to work with you. I want to see you in Formula 1.”

You were flattered, honoured really, but you didn’t know what that entailed. “Work with me how?”

“Well, regular fitness training for starters,” he said. “But managing, really. I want to help you with everything that it takes to move up. Media training, mental preparedness, finding sponsors, getting you in touch with the right people. Let me help you, Y/N.”

You weren’t sure what brought this on. Part of you was convinced it was because he knew this would look good on his behalf. If you did make it to Formula 1 and Daniel’s name was attached to yours, he’d look like a genius. A hero. He would be known as the first person from F1 to publicly support you.

But that wasn’t what it was at all. When you agreed and accepted his help, you soon came to learn that Daniel didn’t want to be in your spotlight at all. He found the opportunities that you needed and then stepped back. He didn’t mention to the media at all that he was helping you, he didn’t see a need to. He saw your potential and he truly wanted to help you make something off.

So there he was during the off season, meeting you in London where you resided. He trained with you, set you up with the right people, did weekly check-ins, he really was like a sort of manager.

He was there during pre-season testing the following year, literally. He stood in the Prema garage like he was just another member of the team. No one really questioned it, not when you said he was acting as a mentor to you. Everyone loved Daniel’s presence there and he was told he was welcome whenever.

He was there during race weekends whenever he could find time in his own busy schedule. He was never there during the actual race, needing that time to prepare for his own, but he always watched from his drivers room or had someone in his ear updating where you were and what was happening.

He was there in Silverstone, when you crashed during Saturday's Sprint Race.

It was one of the last sessions of the day, Daniel had already finished qualifying and he was standing in the back of your garage, arms crossed over his chest, eyes glued to the screen.

He was the first voice you heard when you spun, losing the breaks in mere seconds and all you could do was brace yourself for the impact of the barriers.

“Tell me you’re okay.” Daniel’s voice came through your radio. Not your engineer, not your team principal. Daniel. “Say something, sweets, tell me you're okay.”

Sweets, he called you. But only ever in private, or in front of close friends. What started as a joke when you complained about him not having any sweets in his flat the first time you visited in Monaco, stuck.

But everyone had access to the team radios. It could be heard by other engineers, other teams, fans even and those watching at home should F1TV choose to broadcast it.

Of course they did. They aired the exchange for everyone to hear and it spread like wildfire. It was all anyone on social media could talk about.

“Say something, sweets. Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” you sputtered out, hands shaking as you unclenched them. It was an instinct to pull them off the steering wheel and tuck your arms to your chest, physically bracing where you could.

“Good,” Daniel breathed out a very obvious sigh of relief. “Good.” He paused, and then with a quiet chuckle added, “What the fuck was that then?”

You laughed in response, needing the humour at such a traumatic time. You had crashed before, but this was a bad one. You didn’t even need to step out of the vehicle to know you were lucky to not feel any immediate injuries, but there was a ringing in your ear and the adrenaline was preventing you from really understanding the damage your body had sustained.

It wouldn’t have helped, though, to have gotten an earful, not like it was your fault anyway. It also wouldn’t have helped if you were asked again and again if you were okay. The more people asked, the more stressed you would grow. Daniel knew you needed a bit of lightheartedness at this time.

“No brakes, Danny,” you answered through a soft laugh.

“That just sounds like an excuse to me,” he muttered, the sarcasm evident even through the crackling radio.

“Are you going to continue to question my driving abilities or are you going to send medical out here to help me?”

That whole interaction went viral. From the radio message, to the clips of Daniel accompanying you to the medical centre, to the photos of the two of you smiling in the paddock despite the bruising on your body, the concussion you were diagnosed with and the instruction from the doctor that you were not stable enough to race on Sunday.

Which sucked, to put it plainly. But you were with Daniel. He made the situation bearable. With his arm around your shoulder, he walked you to the car at the end of the day, having waited with you the whole time.

People speculated, of course. Questions were asked.

Why was Daniel Ricciardo paying such close attention to you? Why did he get over the radio when he crashed? Why did it sound so flirty? Had he been in your garages the whole time and no one noticed? Was he a mentor? A friend? More?

You had put out a statement when you got to the hotel, thanking everyone for the kind words and well wishes. You shared that you would not be driving on Sunday and you also shared that you were thankful for the support of Daniel Ricciardo, your mentor, who reminded you that even the best of the best crash out sometimes.

Mentor, you publicly called him That’s what he was, right? Or trainer. Or Manager. Or friend, really. There were a lot of words to describe his relationship to you.

People online didn’t believe it. They thought there was more because, who looks at each other like that if they’re not fucking?

But you weren’t. Honest to god, that line with Daniel was never crossed. You never even considered it. Always content with his companionship and his advice, you didn’t want anything physical or romantic.

At least, you thought you didn’t.

Daniel dragged you into his room instead of letting you go up to yours because you were under strict instructions to not be left alone for the next twelve hours should the concussion worsen.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, handing you a glass of water. “I know I joked over the radio, but I was worried. It wasn’t a pretty crash.”

“Are any crashes pretty?”

He sat down next to you, closer than normal considering when he rested his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers were within the distance needed to play with the strands of your hair.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, “I guess it depends on the driver. I make the crashes pretty.”

The comedic gasp you let out as you clenched your chest had him laughing.

“Daniel Ricciardo, are you calling me ugly?”

“Don’t twist my words!” He exclaimed, eyes squinting as his smile widened. “I said I was pretty.”

You hummed, “You pretty much said I made the crush ugly.”

“I didn’t say you were ugly,” Daniel playfully tugged on a strand of your hair. “You’re not- I mean, you-”

And then the humour faded. He met your eyes, his hand fell to your shoulder. He was still smiling but it was the sort of gentle smile one wears when they figure out the answer to a question that had been eating at them for a while.

Something clicked for Daniel. At this very moment.

He wasn’t going to let it escape him.

“Pretty doesn’t do you justice,” Daniel told you, voice lowering. “You’re breaktaking, Y/N. On the racetrack, at home, at events, you put everyone around you to shame. And it’s not- it isn’t just your appearance, it’s you. Everything about you. Your heart, your charisma, the way your eyes light up when you smile but only if you’re talking to people you like,” he chuckled, having experienced it first hand and having seen the way you don’t look nearly as pleased when someone you dislike approaches you.

You were speechless, though. Frozen where you sat as this admission came out of seemingly nowhere.

And Daniel was attractive, that was an undeniable fact, he was everything anyone could ever want in a man. But you never allowed yourself to look at him the way other people would. He was your trainer, manager, mentor, friend.

You had no words to explain the way he was staring at you now. Nor could you explain why it made you feel more alive than driving a racecar at inhumane speeds ever could.

Daniel took another breath, eyes never leaving yours. “You are unlike anyone I have ever come across and I know, in my lifetime, I will never find someone who could ever compare to even a fraction of who you are.”

There was no way you could continue to be just friends after those words passed his lips.

You kissed him. You had to. It wasn’t like there was anything you could say that would match what he had already said, nor could you even find the words.

You kissed him and Daniel pulled you onto his laps, your legs moving to straddle either side of his hips. His hands roamed your body, sliding up the Prema shirt you still had on as your tongue roamed every possible inch of his mouth.

His hand gripped your waist, rolling you over top of him so you could feel in a matter of seconds how this conversation had now taken a turn. His cock started to harden, constricted by his pants, but you still felt it underneath you each time he shifted, each time you grinded against him.

When you reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, Daniel leaned back, both of you taking that second to catch your breath and question if you were really going to do this.

“Is this a mistake?” You whispered, your thumb gently tracing over his lips. Your working relationship was perfect. This could ruin everything. You had fears, doubts, worries. One night could lead to dozens of complications.

But Daniel shook his head and all of those thoughts vanished.

“No,” he said, sounding so sure of himself with that one syllable. “I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life but you are not one of them.”

That was the only validation you needed. You kissed him again, more lust, more passion, than before as Daniel stood up, carrying you towards the bed at the back of the room. He dropped you down on the edge of it, smiling at the squeal that escaped your lips.

Daniel wanted to worship you every way he could. He was gentle with you, with your body, as he dipped his head between your thighs, making you feel a wave of euphoria that no one had ever brought you too before.

It wasn’t until you were begging for more did Daniel realise he didn’t need to be gentle the entire night. He slid two fingers past your folds, lifting his head and hovering his body over yours, wanting to feel your desperate breaths hit his face as he rapidly thrusted his digits in and out of you, your walls clenching around him.

When he attached his lips to that spot on your neck, his teeth pressing against your skin, you saw stars. Daniel’s motions didn’t let up as you came around his fingers, loving the way your legs shook and how you dragged your hand through the hair on the back of his head.

He was cautious about doing anything else, knowing you were injured, he didn’t want to overstimulate you or cause any more pain.

But you needed him. You reached for the zipper of his pants and tugged it down, telling Daniel you wanted this, as if the way you looked up at him didn’t already make that perfectly clear.

He was careful when he entered you, patient. The tip of his cock slid past your folds slowly and he kissed your collarbone so gently you almost didn’t feel it as you adjusted to his size, quiet moans emitting from the back of your throat.

He had praised you before, but only ever at the race track, so there was something so familiar yet so foreign about the way he whispered against your skin. It lit a fire within you.

“You take me so well, sweets,” he fought back a groan as your walls tightened around him when you clenched your legs. “So good for me.”

It was safe to say the dynamic between you two changed after that night.

Daniel adored you already, admired you greatly for your achievements and growth in the sport. But now he fought with himself every weekend, knowing that he couldn’t touch you how he wanted. He couldn’t show you the attention he so desperately wanted. He couldn’t kiss you when you got that podium in Belgium, despite finding a way to sneak out of the pre-race duties for a second to run to the barrier to be there for you with the rest of the Prema team.

Whatever was going on between you, it was unlabelled and it was private. The rest of the world didn’t need to know you were sleeping with the man you looked up to, the one who helped you become a great athlete in such a short period of time.

People continued to speculate. You were private, sure, but you weren’t overly careful.

You were seen landing in Monaco over the summer. You were spotted hanging out with Daniel on plenty of occasions. Even though you kept your hands off of each other and refused to act like anything more than friends out in public, you were different when you returned after the break. You both were. Everyone noticed.

Daniel was, if it was even possible, happier. And you were less stressed it seemed. While you were still fighting a constant battle of being the only female in F2, it no longer seemed as heavy because the weight of it wasn’t just on your shoulders anymore. Daniel was there too.

It wasn’t just physical, what you had. The emotional connection you shared was undeniable. Daniel was always there for you, and you, him. During the bad days, the good ones, and everyday in between.

When you finished the season 5th in the drivers championship, the only person you wanted to celebrate with was Daniel. He was so proud of you. He watched you go from finishing 13th last year to 5th. He played a huge part in that, but when you tried to tell him that, he only brushed it off, saying that it was all you, he was just happy to be there for the ride.

It was his idea for you to test drive for McLaren at the end of the year, too. ‘We’ll get you in a real F1 car’ he said. And you didn’t question it when the offer was brought forward to participate in a few practice sessions. It was exhilarating and terrifying and you cried tears of joy when you stepped out of his car because this was what you dreamed of. Driving a Formula 1 car.

Now you just needed a permanent seat and Daniel wanted that for you too. He was your biggest supporter, and you only grew closer as the days went on.

You met his family over the holidays. He spent New Years Eve in London with you.

When the season started again, he spent more time with you and Prema. When there were no scheduled F2 races during F1 weekends, you accompanied him in the McLaren garage.

At this point, quite a few people knew you were together, or at least they assumed it.

You didn’t post about it, you didn’t want to, you didn’t need to. Daniel didn’t need to show you off, nor did you feel obligated to let everyone know you were with him. What you had was private, it was sacred, it was only for the two of you.

But of course whenever you had a good performance, whether it be from a practice session, qualifying or a race, he’d share your celebration picture to his Instagram story.

“Would you ever do a shoey?” Daniel asked you one Tuesday night, zooming in on a photo of you, more specifically on the smile on your face as you clenched your second place trophy from Imola on Sunday.

You rolled your eyes but the smile was impossible to hide as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you into his chest.

“Next time you win,” Daniel suggested with a laugh. “I expect a shoey.”

“I’m not Australian.”

“You’re dating one, sweets.”

You never actually discussed what you were. The term boyfriend-girlfriend seemed so childish. Dating was, in a sense, accurate, but again, there were no labels. He had your heart, you had his. That was the only thing that mattered.

“The world doesn’t know that,” you pointed out.

“They kind of do,” Daniel kissed your cheek, giving your side a squeeze as he stepped aside to help you prepare dinner.

You weren’t even sure when you fell into such a domestic lifestyle but there you were, practically moved into Daniel’s place in Monaco at this point and he was at your side, chopping carrots for the salad while you prepared the chicken breasts.

“A shoey would confirm it,” you glanced up at him, but the smile on his face told you he wasn’t completely against the idea.

Daniel stepped behind you, fingers playfully pinching your waist, “Just think about it. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I just reckon it would be entertaining for everyone.”

He didn’t bring it up again, not even when you got third in Spain and didn’t do it. It was your first time getting a back to back podium since you started racing and of course it was something to celebrate, but the idea of a shoey made your stomach churn. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the world to know about your commitment to Daniel.

You walked a thin line, being with him. And while you enjoyed every possible minute spent with him, you knew the world was cruel. The second you officially went public, you’d lose respect in the motorsport industry.

The only female F2 driver dating an F1 driver? How scandalous.

Despite the rumours, the correct rumours, you were still in a bubble with him. You could pretend you were just friends, close friends. The tabloids had nothing to go off except your polite interactions and maybe a little too friendly smiles and so what if you were there in the McLaren garage cheering him on?

You were his biggest supporter and he was yours.

But it didn’t help that while your performance was improving, his was rapidly declining. While you had less races than his, already your stats were better. You qualified in the top 5 for the first three races. You finished second in Imola, third in Spain, already better than how you started the season last year.

Monaco was next. Daniel loved Monaco, you both did. Everyone did, it was the pinnacle of Formula 1.

It was unfortunate that your weekends ended up so drastically different.

Daniel qualified 14th and then finished 13th. He wasn’t proud of it, but he did his best to hide his disappointment for you, especially since you were starting on the front row, P2, for the feature race.

And somehow, you won.

After trailing behind Drugovich for the majority of the race, you were starting to believe you would finish behind him too. And you probably would have, had there not been a safety car almost six laps after he boxed for fresh tyres, giving you the advantage of newer tyres and less wasted time. It was a strategy your team was banking on, waiting for a safety car. It was risky, but it paid off. Overtaking was nearly impossible with Formula 1 cars, but you had a better chance in your series and somehow, by the grace of god, you did it. You pulled ahead and swiped the lead from Felipe.

You made history that weekend. The first female F2 driver to not only podium, but to win at Monaco. You gripped that first place trophy so tight your hand turned red.

Usually, F2 didn’t draw nearly as big of a crowd, but this weekend was different. Everyone was a fan of the series after that performance, a fan of you. You saw people in the crowd wearing Red Bull gear, Ferrari merch, McLaren hats, and they were all applauding you.

Of course, you were blown away by the support. Hearing your national anthem play was an incredible sound. There were tears in your eyes and your entire body was trembling, yet somehow you managed to find Daniel. Right in front, with your team.

He was so proud of you.

Despite his shitty qualifying, despite knowing he had such a low shot at earning points at his race that was in just under an hour, he was there for you. You couldn’t tell if he was cheering the loudest, or if you were just so prone to finding him in a crowd that you couldn’t process anything or anyone else.

You weren’t sure what came over you, but once you grabbed the champagne bottle, you found yourself taking your shoe off as well. As Felipe and Théo started spraying their bottles in celebration, you poured the bubbly liquid into the sole of your racing shoe and lifted it up to your lips, pointing directly at Daniel who couldn’t believe what he was watching.

It was rancid, as you figured it would. It was champagne out of a sweaty shoe, you knew it wouldn’t taste good, but it was a shoey and it was for Daniel. Felipe patted your back, laughing at your reaction and muttering something about how Daniel would get a kick out of that.

He was right, but Daniel wasn’t the only one who found it entertaining.

Your name was once again trending following the Monaco Grand Prix. Not Checo’s, even though he won the F1 race. Your name.

Not that you really cared that night. How could you care about what the internet was saying when the man you were with told you that he loved you for the first time? Nothing online mattered, not when Daniel took your face in his hands and told you he was madly in love with you. He was proud, he was happy, he was in love.

And you knew you loved him too. You had known this for a while. Monaco was just the perfect time to say it.

After going about as public as you could without physically coming out and saying you were dating the Australian driver, Monaco was the perfect place to tell him you loved him. You were on cloud 9, you were making history, you were in love.

You continued to deny, or at least ignore, the rumours that followed, still. You both did. You were in love with each other, not the whole world. Things would get complicated if you announced you were dating. You were vying for a Formula 1 seat and you wanted it without Daniels’ influence.

But at the following race in Baku you were asked similar questions.

“Your shoey last week, did that have anything to do with Daniel Ricciardo being there to cheer you on? You two have gotten pretty close in the last few months, he’s one of your mentors, isn’t he?”

You shifted your weight to one leg, wondering what the fuck kind of post-qualifying question that was. You had just completed three back to back podiums, you were on a hot streak now, starting third at this next race and the reporter only cared about what happened at the podium celebration last weekend.

“Sorry, did you have a question about this week's race?” You asked, and when he stammered over his words, you just nodded and walked away, a tight smile on your face.

Daniel’s conversation went a bit differently.

“Y/N’s shoey last week, we all saw it. Was that your influence?”

“Yeah I never thought she’d actually do it, it was sweet,” Daniel laughed. “It was great though, I happily pass the tradition onto her.”

“She’s really come along in Formula 2 since she started back in 2020, do you think she has what it takes to be Formula 1’s first full-time female driver?”

“Absolutely,” there wasn’t a shred of doubt or hesitation. He was happy to talk about you, to explain to the rest of the world why you were up and coming and should be taken seriously as a real contender for a Formula 1 seat. He probably would have continued on if his PR rep hadn’t pulled him away, reminding him of other duties.

The next few races were similar to your first ones. A couple more podiums, some outstanding qualifying sessions, more history being made. Your phone was blowing up weekly, everybody wanted to talk to you now and you knew Daniel had something to do with it. Him constantly sharing the faith he had in you did wonders for your reputation.

You might have been on top of the world, but you were well aware you were alone up there.

Daniels’ performances were anything but newsworthy. He had gotten a few points in Austria and France, but nothing to be extremely proud of, especially when he compared his 9th place finish at the Red Bull Ring to your first place podium, making it your second one this season.

He never let his disappointment for himself and McLaren stand in the way of your achievements. In fact, you didn’t often speak about the races when you were together. You were aware Daniel was having issues with the team, with Zak, with the car, but he didn’t want to weigh you down with his own problems, even though you assured him time and time again you could handle it.

Really, if Daniel had come to you with his struggles, you would have thought twice when Zak Brown approached you prior to the Hungarian Grand Prix. You probably would have slammed the door to your drivers room in his face if you knew how Daniel was being treated at McLaren.

But Daniel held his cards close to his chest while Zak laid his all out on the table.

“If a spot opened up for you,” he said, after spending the last ten minutes talking about the rich history of the team and praising your accolades. “Would you consider it?”

It wasn’t an official contract, just the start of a conversation that could lead to one.

Of course you thought of Daniel. And Lando, having grown close with him simply through Daniel.

“For 2024?” You asked, knowing both of them were set to continue driving through to at least the end of 2023.

“No,” Zak shook his head. You didn’t like how harsh his tone had turned, having no remorse for what he was about to say. “Daniel’s contract would be ending early.”

You leaned back in your chair, fingers tapping the table as you tried to recall Daniel ever telling you that he was leaving McLaren. “Is he- he wants out?”

“It’s mutual,” Zak assured you. “He knows we can’t give him the car he wants and unfortunately, he’s not delivering what we need. We had high hopes with Daniel, but the working relationship isn’t what any of us thought it would be.”

It’s mutual. Those two words was all it took to convince you that Zak Brown and Daniel had already had a conversation about this, about terminating the contract a year early.

It didn’t help that Zak brought up your test sessions in the McLaren from last year, pointing out that you had better times than Lando, even. He went on to praise what you were doing this year at Prema and said, multiple times, that you would be an asset to McLaren should you choose to go that route.

And who were you to turn that down?

A team principal of a Formula 1 team wanted to sign you. Was it unfortunate that it was Daniel’s seat? Yes, obviously this situation was less than ideal, but he wanted out. You were convinced he wanted out, that he was done with McLaren. A 45 minute conversation with Zak Brown convinced you of that.

You should have been wary when at the end of the conversation he said, “Don’t tell anyone about this, yet. You know how the public can be, let’s just keep this to ourselves for the meantime.”

“But I can talk to Dan, right?” You asked.

Zak knew you were dating Daniel, it was a little harder to hide that from his team than it was the rest of the world. Maybe that’s why hesitated before answering, knowing that keeping a secret, something as big as this, from a partner had the potential to cause chaos.

But he shook his head, “Between us, yeah?”

And you listened to him. You wanted that Formula 1 seat so of course you followed orders.

You desperately wanted to talk to Daniel about it, but you knew you couldn’t. And either he sensed that something was off, or he was dealing with his own problems again and wouldn’t share, you really couldn’t tell when the summer break started and things just seemed…different.

You didn’t go to Monaco for starters, even though Daniel invited you to. But there were so many meetings with Zak and the board at McLaren that it made more sense for you to stay in London for the start of the break.

Daniel didn’t call as often and you wanted to give him space, knowing that this break was probably needed for him. You expected he was out with friends, letting loose, getting the weight of a horrible season off his back even if just temporarily.

The plan was to go to Monaco for the last week and a half and then travel to Belgium together. You had to delay that plan, however, when Zak called you and said it was official.

The 2023 seat was yours.

You wanted to celebrate, with Daniel, but how could you celebrate with the person you were replacing?

It was strange that Daniel had said nothing to you about leaving the team during the summer break, especially since Zak had said time and time again they were on the same page, that Daniel was ready to leave. The only thing that crossed your mind was he was given strict instructions to not say anything to anyone either, at least until McLaren went public with the news.

But with it being official, with you having just signed on the dotted line, you were tired of keeping it to yourself. You may not have been able to share the news with anyone else, but you had a right to have a conversation with Daniel about it.

You didn’t know how he would react. Surely he’d be happy for you, right? You were getting a seat in Formula 1, something that both of you desperately wanted to happen. And again, you were under the impression the departure from McLaren was mutual. He would be happy that someone he loved was taking his seat, right?

Right?

You had to tell yourself that the entire ride over to his place. You unlocked the front door to his building and took the elevator up to the fourth level. You didn’t think to knock, knowing he never locked it when he was home so you pushed open the door and stepped in, your suitcase trailing behind you.

You were happy to see him. He was always a breath of fresh air, despite the odd distance between you, you still loved him. You always would. He muted whatever was playing on the screen and stood up from the couch when he heard you walk in.

Usually, Daniel would greet you with a kiss.

Usually, he’d be smiling so hard his jaw would be hurting.

Usually, he was happy to see you.

You left the suitcase by the door and met him halfway, only he stopped walking when there was about a foot of space between your bodies. To you, it felt like you were still miles apart.

“Do you have something you want to tell me?” He asked, arms crossed over his chest.

Your heart sank.

You had convinced yourself, Zak had convinced you, the whole back of house team had convinced you, that Daniel was aware of this upcoming change. That the termination was mutual. You taking his seat might have been a surprise, but it was never supposed to be a blindside.

“What do you know?” you asked.

“What do you know?” Daniel repeated the question back to you.

You were both fully aware of the exact same information. Daniel was leaving. You were taking his seat. Only, you had been informed this much earlier than he had.

“What was I supposed to do?”

“Not take the seat,” he scoffed. “My god, I mean, they’re cutting my contract early, Y/N. For you.”

“For the sake of the team,” you said and then added, “You don’t even like McLaren. You’ve struggled with this team since day one.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to stop racing.”

“McLaren is not the team for you and you know this.”

Daniel scoffed, eyebrows twitching, “Did Zak tell you to say that?”

“Zak-” you started, finding it difficult to hold his stare. This wasn’t the Daniel you knew. “-he doesn’t know I’m here. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to talk to you or anyone about it, not until your announcement comes out.”

He rubbed his hands over his face, taking a few steps away from you. It hurt, watching as he tried to physically distance himself from you. Like being in too close of proximity would set him off.

“I struggled with the team, yes, but I’m not ready to give up racing. You have now left me without a seat.”

It was easy for Daniel to blame you, you were standing right in front of him. You were quite literally the driver set to replace him.

But the real villain was Zak, for not having opened up this line of communication earlier. For making you believe everyone was on the same page. It was Zak’s fault for rushing to end the contract with Daniel instead of putting in the effort to work with him. He saw the shiny new toy that was you, that Daniel helped create, and he wasn’t going to let someone else take it first.

Daniel wanted to blame himself too, but he wouldn’t let himself think about that until much later. He was the one who did everything he could to help you grow in this sport. He was the one who introduced you to Zak and the rest of the McLaren team. He was the one who got you in the car for the practice sessions, his car. Foreshadowing at its finest.

“You are unbelievable,” Daniel spoke quietly, heated with anger but his words were like ice as they sunk deep into you. “After everything I’ve done to help you for you to betray me like this, I just- I don’t think-”

You knew where this was going and you wanted to put a pin in it before he could finish any of his thoughts.

“Don’t finish that sentence, Daniel,” you whispered. “Please. Please, we can figure something out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” his mind was made up. “You took my seat.”

“Wouldn’t you rather it me than someone you don’t know? Someone you don’t trust?” You tried to turn this around, have him look at the positives, if there were any. “Daniel, everyone on the grid loves you, you’ll find a new team. One that helps you grow and get to where you want. McLaren isn’t that, we both know it.”

“I think you should go,” was his only response.

“If I hadn’t signed that contact, someone else would have,” you pointed out, grasping at straws here, painfully honest straws, but straws nonetheless. “Piastri, O’Ward…McLaren had options, Dan. Aren’t you at least happy for me that I out-qualified all of those guys?”

Daniel actually laughed, “You want me to be happy for you? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Dan-”

“Leave.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“You need to,” he was stern. He was angry. He was done. With you, with the team, with everything he used to love and cherish. He was done.

You thought you knew Daniel. You thought you knew how this conversation would play out. You figured it would still be rocky, but god you now realised how naive you were to believe you could still make things work.

“I love you,” you told him, because what else could you say except remind him that you were so hopelessly in love with him, that he was all you would ever want in life.

Except, that wasn’t exactly true, was it?

You wanted a seat in Formula 1 too. You just never thought you’d have to sacrifice one dream for the other.

Daniel’s stare was cold. He only looked away for a second to nod his head towards the door behind you, “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done this.”

You stepped forward, desperate at this point because how could he do this? How could he throw away what you had, over a seat?

Or was it you, who had ultimately thrown away what you had when you sat down with Zak Brown all those weeks ago?

It pained you to think about the strong possibility of that being the case.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, because you were. You were sorry about how this turned out, how he was betrayed, how this was coming to an end. You grabbed hold of your suitcase and nodded, backing up towards the door, “I really am sorry, Dan.”

He didn’t believe you. Why would he? In his eyes, Formula 1 was more important to you than he was. A career decision that benefited you, but ruined him, mattered more than your relationship. It was a bold move, a cold move, one that you didn’t think would lead to this.

Neither of you could have predicted this. On September 3rd, 2020, when Daniel first said he wanted to work with you, neither of you thought it would end like this.

Just as you grabbed the handle of the door, Daniel opened his mouth, wanting to get the final word in. And you really wished he hadn’t because those final words destroyed you.

“I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life, but I never thought you would turn out to be one of them.”

You said nothing. You walked out of that Monaco flat with your head low and your heart even lower. You couldn’t even be excited about the next season, or the remainder of this one where you had the potential to finish in the top three.

You weren't happy, you were empty, you were defeated. And painfully so, you were also still in love.

Despite what was said, you knew it would take a while to get over Daniel. He was your rock for so long, he was always there for you and even though he could disappear without so much as a second thought, your feelings couldn’t, the memories couldn’t. It would take a long time until you felt whole again.

You didn’t know it yet, but the decision to take that McLaren seat would haunt you as you moved forward in your career.

This was not going to be the last time you ever saw Daniel.

part 2 haunted

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo one shot #danny ric #dr3 #f1 one shot #f1 fics #formula 1 x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo au

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kiddiesmores · 2 months ago

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𝖯𝗈𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗍 𝖳𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗍 🗒️

authors note: hi yall. ik it’s been a while, yes i’m evil and terrible IM SORRYYYYYY. ive finally gotten over not wanting to write anymore so hopefully this is the kiddiesmores comeback!! love u so much!! i swear the dry humping is coming btw. also i called this pocket ticket bc its just a short little drabble of things i cant stop thinking about, we will pick up on the main story soon!!

86 Schlatt who stays over at your apartment on the days he has to come in at 6am because you’re closer to the store (and because he gets to lay in your silk sheets).

86 Schlatt who kneels by your bedside in the early morning before work, your hand in his as he rubs your knuckles and shushes for you to go back to bed.

86 Schlatt who loves to sneak kisses out back where the cameras don’t see, whispering in your ear how soft and warm you still felt after being in bed just a few hours ago.

86 Schlatt who does your grocery shopping whenever he notices your fridge is getting too low and he can’t cook anything for you for dinner.

86 Schlatt who makes just the right amount for you and your roommate so you guys don’t have to eat out so much throughout the week.

86 Schlatt who loves to listen to you complain about all the terrible guests you’ve had that day while you blow whatever new vape flavor in his face out back, rubbing your knee as you sit on unopened boxes.

86 Schlatt who threatens to go on the floor and beat them up for you just to make you laugh.

“I can print their faces out and say ‘No Longer Welcome’ and slap it on the front door for ya.”

86 Schlatt who, whenever the kitchen doesn’t need him, is cozying behind you at the POS systems, leaning on you while you put food in and peppering a soft kiss on the side of your head.

#jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #86 mahi mahi!#jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #schlatt x y/n

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pigeonpeach · 1 year ago

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Mother and Father

A/n: Its genuinely wild to me how i went from like only porn bots following me to like actually 291 followers! It almost doesn’t feel real but I’m so grateful for you all! I held a poll earlier to determine who’d id write for as celebration for the milestone and arlecchino won! So here it is!

Prompt: how I met your mother

Arlecchino x fem reader

Your job wasn’t too easy, but it also wasn’t too hard. You loved kids. You found their antics amusing, you found it hard to suppress a smile when they looked so cute. With Arlecchino’s most recent addition: Lyney and Lynette however is when you truly came out of your shell.

The children watched as you sewed together their favorite teddy bear. A disagreement earlier led to the bear torn right down the middle.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” one child cowered.

“You know better now, you guys have to be careful with these. We don’t get toys too often now.” You gently scolded. The other children seemed a bit surprised. Including the guilty ones.

“So… you aren’t mad?”

“Not that much. You’re kids, its natural that you may wreck your belongings. You must learn to be more careful and how to repair them. But you are too young Talia, I’ll teach you how to sew when you get a bit older. Then you can repair your own toys.” You pat her on the head.

“I’m sorry.. I’ll do better next time.” Talia looked down as you raised her face to meet yours.

“I’m not mad Talia, i just want you to be more careful next time that’s all. Okay?” You changed your tone to be more sweet. Talia teared up a bit. You out the bear aside as you used your hands to wipe her tears, you placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Okay… can I help in some way?” She asked.

“Yes. I want you to gather all the stuffing Mr Bear lost so i can put it back in him. Okay?” You said. She nodded as she set off to retrieve it.

It didn’t take too long for the kids to like you. You were sweet and soft spoken. Your hold was gentle and loving, and they’d come to love your kisses. Especially Lyney.

“Lyney you know you should be asleep, your father won’t like it if you wake up too early.” You gently chided. He stubbornly attached himself to your thigh even more so. “Lyney you know I can’t just stand around all day. I have to make breakfast.” You couldn’t even kneel down.

“No..no… where my lynette… wheres my sister?” He cried. You brushed his hair lovingly.

“Your sister is in the girl’s barracks now. I’m sorry it must be hard to get used to that.” You knelt down carefully as he nuzzled his face against you.

“Can.. I see her? Please?” He looked at you so sweetly how could you resist. You picked him up, resting him against your chest as you headed over to where Lynette would be.

“Just be quiet now. We don’t want to wake anyone up.” You said.

“Why are you up then? Father won’t let us out until 6am.”

“Because I’m her employee, you, are her child. My job is to prepare you all breakfast. And my only help is sick today.” You sighed. Lyney seemed to think for a bit.

“Maybe i could help you?” He said. You thought about it. It would be better than nothing.

“Alright then. Just be sure to not let Father catch you out so late.” You smiled. Opening the door to the girl’s barracks, you noticed Lynette stood up from her bed. Quietly she crawled off her bed and trotted over to you, her little tail swaying in a excited manner. You felt your heart melt seeing how happy she looked to see her brother. This was their first night apart. You gently let Lyney down as he immediately hugged her.

“Brother, did you sleep?” She asked innocently.

“Not well. I kept having nightmares.” He said. She seemed to understand. “Lynette, we must help today.” Lyney leaned into Lynette’s ear “She said she has to prepare breakfast alone.” He said. Lynette seemed to agree.

“Well you don’t have to. You two could just go back to sleep.” You said. They shook their head.

“No no.. we must help.” Lynette said. You sighed. You couldn’t say no to them. They were just cute and determined, Lynette in particular was such a cutie with the bowtie on her tail. You struggled to maintain your composure as your instincts screamed at you to just pepper kisses on her cute little face and hug her tightly. But you held back.

“Alright just be quiet.” You said. The three of you now set off to the kitchen. You realized quickly that it’d be difficult for them to help given how short they are.

Nonetheless the twins were persistent. They cracked the eggs with caution. Lyney eagerly scrambling them as you prepared the wok for it. Its not easy cooking for so many children. But you’ve gotten used to it. A lot of what they eat is prepared by rations sent by various companies partnered with the Fatui. But the children always preferred fresh scrambled eggs than the ones in the rations, you noticed that when you do so they’re far happier and more well behaved. The only problem is how much that requires.

“We’ve finished the first batch.” Lynette held out the bowl of liquid eggs with pride as you smiled. There was thankfully no shells you could spot. But you trusted she would notice. Lynette was the most observant.

“Hmmm.. yes this is satisfactory indeed. Get to start on the next one and we should be finished.” You said.

The children were delighted to have fresh eggs ready for them. Even if they weren’t actually fresh but just warm. You helped portion out each child’s plate which took almost forever. But hearing their happy little ‘thank you’s helped you feel better. The room was filled with chatter and laughter.

“I worry you spoil them too much.”

You jolted as you looked behind you. “A-arlecchino!” You were a bit surprised. “Its just that… they’ve been working so hard lately I wanted to reward them with something small.” You explained, trembling. The children fell silent as they watched with anticipation for her reaction. But Arlecchino didn’t seem upset, nor angry or sinister. She was always hard to read however.

“I see. Children.” She sai, every child looked at her with alertness. “Since your caretaker has gone out of your way to provide you a must delicious meal, I expect no slacking off today’s training yes?” She said with authority.

“Yes father!” The children said in unison.

“You may continue eating.”she then turned to you. “Did.. you buy these eggs yourself?” You nodded. “Your own money correct?” You nodded. She looked over you, her gaze feeling almost… warm? You weren’t too certain. “Don’t work yourself too much next time. If you want to arrange such rewards I’d be happy to help. As long as its within reason of course.” She said with a surprising softness. You gulped.

“Th-thank you. W-would you like some?” You smiled nervously. Little did you know in that moment was the start of her ever growing feelings for you. But she merely shook her head.

“I’ll have whats leftover. I have my own chef so I wouldn’t like to deprive the children of their food.” She said. “Keep up the good work. I’ll be looking forward to it.” She said walking away. You looked on in awe, you knew she was scary yes, but something about her didn’t seem nearly as menacing. You weren’t sure but.. it appears you made a good impression on her. The children looked at you, concerned until you smiled at them.

“And you ordered… 67 bags of flour for the orphans? Yeah right don’t they have rations.” The rude guard said. The seller seemed a bit upset at the guard too.

“I’ve already told you that I work for the house of hearth as a caretaker. What crime could i be committing with this much flour anyways? I paid for it, every cent is paid. What is your deal!” You were annoyed at this rate. The guard seemed to not back down.

“Well how do I know if you have some secret? Huh?”

“LEAVE HER ALONE!” A voice came from the crowd that formed. You recognized it as one of the children you cared for, a teenage boy named Andrej. “You are a officer are you not? Do you not know it is illegal to falsely accuse someone without a trial to prove one’s guilt first? You shameful man! You dare to use your power for what exactly?” You were a bit surprised at his actions. He’d always been so quiet when you handled him, you didn’t know he’d value you so much.

“Why you-“

“He’s right though. What exactly are you doing officer! Picking on innocent civilians!” Another joined in. You recognized them as Danica. The officer quickly seemed surprised.

“Well i-“

“Zip it! Just wait until the Knave finds out the guards have been unjustly harassing her employees.”

“Please calm down you two. There’s no need to get that worked up here.” You said, placing a hand on their shoulders. “We’ll just file a report and be done with it.” The guard looked shock as they backed off.

“Don’t mess with our mother.” Andrej whispered at him.

“Andrej told me you were harassed today?” Arlecchino asked as you just settled in the flours into the walk in pantry.

“Just a powerhungry guard. I can handle it.”

“It isn’t a matter of wether or not you can handle it. Its a matter of why he felt it was okay to do so in the first place.” She stood infront of you. Looking down. “My children adore you alot, they would do anything for you. But they also shouldn’t have to. Rest assured, that man will be dealt with.”

“I don’t want to cause trouble that’s all. I’m not that fragile.” You said.

“Its no trouble to me. You are very important for the children’s wellbeing and morale. Infact I was wondering if you could do full time. Increased pay, more breaks of course. Don’t worry about the walk home at night. You will have a escort.” She said. You felt quite surprised.

“I’ll take you up on that offer then.” You smiled. She seemed to calm down.

“Very good then. Next time, let them your children protect you, its their way of repaying your generosity.” She left then. But you wondered what she meant by ‘your’ children.

“I don’t want him to touch me no please!” You heard little Lynette cry in her sleep. You had been passing the barracks ready to clock out when your maternal instincts kicked in. You bursted through the door rushing to her bed. You sighed in relief seeing she was okay.

“Lynette?” You called. She moved in her sleep. “Lynette!” You sat by her side until she woke up. Her eyes teary as she backed away. “Its just me sweetie. Don’t worry I’m not going to hurt you.” You offered your hand to her, to your surprise she rubbed her face against it. She wiped her tears as she came closer to you.

“I had a scary dream.. that’s all.” She said.

“I know.. do you want to tell me about it?” You asked. She shook her head. “Alright then, how about I make you some tea?”

“Tea?” She asked. “Isn’t that for staying up? That’s what father drinks.”

“There’s a special one I have, its to relax yourself. Come.” You stood up, she followed suit as the other girls sneakily watched.

You set the kettle on the stove as you showed her the packet.

“This is the special tea, you don’t use this if you want to stay awake. See the packaging is purple. Use it sparingly though. Now we boil the water and when its warm enough we just add it in. You’ll see.” You said, Lynette watched observantly. You could still see she was a little bit shaken up.

“Can I ask you something?” Lynette seemed nervous, though her face was stoic, her hands fidgeted with her bow.

“Of course dear.” You smiled warmly at her. Unbeknownst to you some of the other girls had snuck out to head your conversation. Many unable to sleep as well.

“Father is.. well our father. Because she provides for us and guides us. I once heard that a mother is the one who gives warmth and love to a child.. you fit that definition perfectly to me.. it feels wrong to call you miss or caretaker so much… could I call you mother?” She asked. Your heart soared. You took a minute to steady yourself. “Did i say something wrong?”

“No-no… its just..” you wipe a tear before she could spot it. “I’d love that Lynette. I don’t mind being called mother if that’s what you or anyone else wants to call me.” You said smiling.

“But why are you crying then?” Another voice asked. A little girl hiding in the shadows with a few others.

“How ling have you been there.” You said confused.

“We couldn’t sleep.. we just wanted some tea too.” The other girl said.

“Very well. Don’t make this too much of a habit though. We don’t have enough teabags for everyone to have tea time.” You said.

As Arlecchino walked the halls intending to just head to her sleeping quarters, the echo of laughter came from downstairs. Skeptical she immediately descended the stairs, pausing to watch as you sat with 5 little girls in a circle drinking tea.

“See you hold out your pinky like this, then you take a few sips at a time.” You whispered. The girls followed suit. Arlecchino leaned against the wall as she felt a sense of pride in her cold heart. Something about you was warm, warmer than her vision, warmer than the sun, and gentler than any cotton. Something about you made her forget the curfew as she focused on how domestic of a scene it was. In that moment you weren’t her caretaker or her employee, but the mother to her children.

“Like this?” A older girl showed her cup. They were empty currently as you waited for the water to cool. The cup slanted, if it was full it would’ve scorched her lap. But you had been clever not to allow so.

“You still use your other fingers Tanya. Oh see, Lynette had got it.” You smiled. The other girls followed suit.

“What do adults use teatime for? It seems so long..”

“Well typically you do so to relax and unwind if you’re alone, or to talk with other adults in a more causal but still refined setting.” You explained.

“What do they talk about then?” Lynette asked. Arlecchino noticed how her tail would curve slightly as she and the rest of the children sat at one of the dinning tables.

“Buisness, personal life… boring stuff. But sometimes its gossip.” You smile. The girls seem intrigued.

“What kind?”

“Well.. I heard that allegedly, miss Trudane, a very upperlady, may have altered her unwed brother’s will to make herself the sole beneficiary to his estate.” You smile. The girls light up in shock and intrigue.

“Really? Wait is that true?”

“Sh! Mother said to be quiet remember.”

Arlecchino felt herself soften at that. The children we’re referring to her as mother.. if she was their father and they their mother then.. her heart blossomed as she clutched her chest composing herself. She strode in catching the group by surprise.

“Father.” The girls lowered their heads.

“I’m actually rather curious, how do you know that?” Arlecchino asked looking at you.

“O-oh well it is just gossip. I heard it through the grapevine that’s all.” You said nervously.

“Do you by chance have another cup available? I’d like some tea myself if you wouldn’t mind.” She said. The children seemed surprised and almost excited as you quickly agreed. Getting up to get another cup while she sat next to where you did. Lynette looking up at her with curiosity.

“Y-you’re not mad?”

“No. I myself couldn’t sleep actually. So I’ll let this slide, don’t let this become a habit.” She said.

After sending the children to bed you and Arlecchino were left. You kissed each girl on the forehead while she watched from the doorway. Sense of comfort placated her as she thought of you. How she wished she had a figure like you when she was younger. How you now provide a loving mother figure for her children that she has thought of being. You both exit closing the door.

“Its late, If you want I could escort you myself, or you could stay the night.” She offered.

“S-stay?”

“I have a guest room you can stay in. Its in the upper levels though.” She said. You noticed it began to rain outside.

“I suppose I’d have to… by the way.. did you hear the conversation where they asked to call me.. mother?” You asked.

“I didn’t but I see no problems with it. The children have been robbed of any normal family life, abandoned by their societies with no love in sight, how could I ever deny them a mother when they have you. You work so hard to make sure each one is loved and cared for.. I have a great deal of respect for you.” Your heart raced seeing her smile, a gentle and genuine warmth from her.

“Thank you. That- that means alot to me.” Your cheeks dusted with pink as you smiled.

You truly became irreplaceable in the eyes of your children. They all clamored to protect you at any given moment. You noticed while cleaning up some drawings what looked to be picture of you and Arlecchino, side by side like husband and and wife. In the style that many family portraits are often drawn. You felt a little warm thinking about it. Arlecchino is a terrifying woman yes but… she is so kind to you. She is so soft and gentle with you, she protects you, you feel very safe in her presence nowadays. And the children, they’ve become more happy with you around. They call you mother and her father, a bond that is almost romantic to you. Its almost a bit embarrassing to you because you two aren’t romantically involved. Yet it seems now the children expect it.. Today would be mother’s day, and you anticipated having alot of gifts.

You actually underestimated how many you would receive. A plethora of drawings you planned on putting in a scrapbook, a surprising amount of jewelry that the children would combine their savings to afford, and even a little origami crane from some of the creative children. Freminet’s gift was quite noteworthy to you as he gave you the most pretty clam you had seem. Lyney and Lynette had gifted you a most beautiful earring set along with heartfelt letters that had you in tears. The excitement died down however as the children were sent for today’s training session. You watched from afar as the kids participated in physical activities. To your surprise Arlecchino came over to you once more, in her hands she held a most delicate box. You were a bit confused.

“Its only appropriate I award the mother of my children handsomely. It is mother’s day afterall, so take this as a token of my gratitude.” She said. You carefully took it. The children from afar noticed you two as some watched expectantly.

“Are they going to kiss?” Talia whispered.

“Shh!”

Your jaw dropped seeing the most intricate necklace. It fit your style nicely as she smiled at you with the most soft of looks you had seen in anyone. Your heart beat fast as you noticed the slight red in her cheeks.

“Thank you so much.. I- i truly cannot thank you enough..” you smiled gratefully at her. In that moment there was a sense of love you felt, her hands gently taking the necklace from its box.

“Here let me put it on you.” She said. Her fingertips brushing against your skin as you realized she wasn’t wearing gloves. Oh how your heart raced as you looked in the mirror she offered.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” You said instinctively hugging her. Her hands in turn wrapped around your body.

“They’re hugging! Oh my gosh!”

“Talia be quiet father will hear you!”

Arlecchino’s gifts didn’t stop at mother’s day however. You frequently received flowers from her that you often used to decorate the house of hearth’s barracks or play areas, mainly because you ran out of space in your own home. Besides, you had been spending so much time here now that your house felt more like a hotel than a home at times. You were reading a book silently as the children gathered around reading in silence.

“Mother..” Lyney shamefully approached you as lynettr and freminet had their heads down. “Could I.. confess something to you?” You felt skeptical. What could he have done to warrant such shame? They weren’t troublemakers by any means, if he broke something then he wouldn’t be this upset…

“Go on.” You placed a book mark as you listened to him carefully. He leaned into your ear to whisper: “Lynette and I snuck in a stray cat we found.. and we have fed it for awhile now keeping it in the barracks.. but it must’ve gotten out because we can’t find it anywhere. Have you heard anything?”

“I know it was wrong but.. I couldn’t bare to see such a creature be homeless.” Freminet mumbled. You smiled.

“Oh dear you should’ve told me! I could’ve taken in the kitty myself and bring him with me here! But I’m sure your father wouldn’t mind having a cat here.” You patted his head. “I’ll help you look for him, you keep looking down here, I’ll go check out the upstairs.” You had a feeling the cat might’ve gone there.

Recently you had been allowed up there more and more so you simply bypassed the guards. You realized however you wouldn’t be allowed to check the rooms. You asked around finding nothing, you took a deep breath before knocking at Arlecchino’s office.

“Come in.” You opened the door to see the cat in question lounging on her lap. “I assume the children are looking for he correct?” She said, gently petting the cat.

“Yes actually. Could I convince you to let them keep her?” You sat across from her. You could hear the kitty purring in her lap.

“Of course.”

“You see-oh. I didn’t expect you would agree so easily.”

“Well, a cat is a useful companion. I’ve seen how the children try to sneak in strays or have formed close bonds with them and I see no reason to deprive them of those bonds. We can’t take in every stray yes but I have no reason to prevent them from bringing a cat. Dogs are another issue, they cause messes and may be more difficult. But this cat is quite well behaved. In fact, she came in here herself.” Arlecchino “she may be good for mice control too. In the winter months is when mice tend to invade homes more. So her timing is perfect. Besides, she is such a beautiful tabby. Orange females are quite rare.” You relaxed seeing how she seemed quite fond of the kitty.

“That’s a relief, I’ll let Lyney know the cat is safe with you.”

“Actually could you take her with you? I have to leave in a bit and she won’t get up on her own accord.”

“Of course.” You approached her to scoop the kitty up as it meowed in confusion. Arlecchino’s eyes were on your chest that became slightly more exposed as you leaned down. “Thank you again Arlecchino, I’ll make sure that cat doesn’t trouble you.”

“Its no problem at all. So long as she makes you and the children happy.” Arlecchino smiles.

“Mother… why don’t you and father kiss?” That question had you shocked. You looked at the child in question as you tried to figure a way to explain it.

“Yeah mommies and daddies always kiss. That’s what my friend told me..”

“Maybe they kiss in private?”

“We don’t kiss no.. your father and I aren’t in a relationship like that.” You cleared your throat trying to regain composure. The children seemed a bit sad at that.

“Why not?” One kid asked.

“Because we just aren’t. Now go play with that cat.. or something.” You quickly took a step back to compose yourself. Watching the kids interact with each other as you fanned your face trying to calm down. But why did the thought or suggestion of that even make you feel this way? How come you felt so warm in the face? You sighed as you tried to clear your head of it.

Were you in love with her? Your boss? A literal harbinger? You knew people died by her hand.. but.. the way she holds little Lynette’s hand.. the way she her hands may suddenly find themselves on your shoulder slowly becoming more of a familiar sensation, her presence doesn’t actually frighten you as much as it used to. You’re more nervous if anything, that she’ll see through your eyes how you truly feel about her. The kids love you two, calling you mother and her father, she refers to you as the “mother of her children”! How could you not feel so tingly and feathery inside! She’s become so alluring too. You once found her scary and intimidating but now… oh you secretly crave her. She is such a menacing woman.. is it bad that you want her? Your employer?

You sighed as you were taking your break, getting lunch at a simple cafe with a nice coffee to clear your mind. You thought about your children with her, not by blood yes but by heart. They call you mother, they bring you gifts, your birthday is never forgotten anymore. You’ve truly come to see them as your own now. You have to remind yourself at times that you didn’t bare these children. That some heartless people let them sat on the streets without taking them home, you could never imagine so. Especially Lynette and Lyney, a most adorable duo. How could anyone ever hurt such innocent souls?

From what you know, the previous Father was far crueler than her. Freminet told you of how he scolded them for crying or weakness, how he lied about his mother’s death to him.. how Arlecchino had slain him and taken his place, how she had slain the man who tried to hurt Lynette… you felt a bit warm knowing the children had such a fearless protector now. And you too were apart of the family she established… maybe its not the worst thing to be in love with your employer, especially in these circumstances. But for the sake of your job and your work relationship you simply can never act on these feelings. You don’t want to ruin things between you and her..

“You called?” You opened the door to her office. You noted how Arlecchino’s blazer wasn’t on. Revealing her under shirt… her dark hands.. oh… should you really be looking?

“Yes I did, come in. I don’t bite.” She said. You approached her timidly. “I just wanted to reward you for such hard work. You’ve truly helped shape this place into a far more comfortable environment. I almost feel envious that it wasn’t like this when I was growing up.” She smiled at you. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered uncomfortably so.

“That means alot to me. I really just have a soft spot for children.. I adore them greatly and.. it hurt to see them be in such pain.” You said.

“Yes. But I wanted to invite you to dinner sometime.” She said. You froze.

“Dinner?” You said. She nodded.

“Yes, You’ve done so much for me that I feel as though I’m in your debt almost. You’ve gotten even the most disrespectful of children under control and you single handedly made this a home rather than a house for these children. I feel as though as the father I must reward you even more than I have.” She said, relishing in the slight red on your cheeks.

“I-i see.. but the children seem to think of us as… partners… I haven’t really been able to properly explain to them that we aren’t… you know.. dating..” you said.

“I don’t mind that assumption, that is if you’re fine with it.” She replied. You felt even more nervous. “Do you want to go to dinner with me? I’ll have a reservation for the most extravagant of restaurants. I’ll pay for the bill of course.”

Your mind raced, was this a confession?

“I’d love to.. if you’re fine wit-“

“I’m with it. I wouldn’t offer this if I wasn’t.” She assured. You felt such a rush of adrenaline.

“Th-thank you.. I- I.. I look forward to it.”

“If you want you could spent the night here.” Arlecchino offered. “I’ll let you stay in my room. I’m going to be spending most of my time in the office anyways”

“I.. if you’re okay with that then sure..” you said nervously. It was pouring outside as you debated how to get home at this hour. You followed her upstairs as you felt a bit nervous. This was a big step in your relationship afterall. Sleeping in her bed.. it feels so intimate.

“Here.” She opened the door to her bedroom. It was incredibly red, it was very intricate and detailed as you would expect a harbinger to have. The pillows more for decoration than comfort. You looked around as she watched you awe the room. “You can sleep on here whenever you like, as long as you aren’t working of course. But make yourself at home here.”

“I will thank you.” You said. She closed the door, her high heels clicked as she went to her office. You felt so timid. You looked in the closet out of curiosity, noticing there was two. They were both huge but one was empty. You realized she probably got the other for your clothes.. it made sense. You would eventually move in of course but it almost delighted you to know how thoughtful she was. She was already planning ahead.

That night you woke up to the door slamming. You jolted awake to see Arlecchino closed the door quickly as she undressed almost immediately. You felt quite flustered as she seemed to pay you no mind. She didn’t seem in the mood for conversation now so maybe you should keep quiet. You laid back, the moonlight was the only light as you noticed the unmistakable red stain coating the sleeves of her jacket. She then paused, turning to you.

“Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.” She said in a low voice.

“I- just… um..” I’m a little startled that’s all.” You said.

“You should get used to it. This home I’ve made is still nonetheless a fatui organization.” She said, she didn’t seem like she was in a good mood at all.

“I know… how often do you come home like this?” You ask.

“Ideally not so much. But realistically its not uncommon.” She answered. You nervously bit your lip as silence settled between us. Once cleaned and changed however she sighed. “I’m sorry if I frightened you.” She walked over to press a kiss to your cheek.

“No no you’re right. I should just get used to this.” You said. She seemed pleased with that response.

“I have some things to finish up before bed, best not to wait for me now.” She said before leacinf without another word. You silently wondered if you had known what you were getting into by accepting her offer. But it was too late now. You weren’t going to ditch now. You’ll get through it, this time with her by your side.

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #domestic fluff #arlechinno genshin #wlw

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getmizumonod · 15 days ago

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Boyfriend!Frank Castle x BJJ fighter girlfriend

Summary: Frank comes home to his reckless girlfriend with new injuries from class

Warnings: mentions of blood, cursing, mentions of bruises, ignoring wounds (for a short while don’t worry it’s all taken care of)

Reader is a big fan of exercise so if you don’t like that um I’m sorry I guess…?

An: I just went to bjj yesterday and woke up with the ow™️, so now I want comfort and goddamnit I’m gonna write it

Frank is very much okay with his girl being a badass. It’s cute and kinda hot the way she tries to take him down with what she learns. She’s gotten so damn confident since she started, and so much happier. Even though she wakes up every day in pain, she does it with a smile. She gets up and goes to bjj, then cools down at home before and after work. He respects her for that, he really does. He’s happy she found something.

But when his girl comes home with a split lip because (of course) she doesn’t wear a mouthguard, he almost has a conniption. She’s sitting on the couch watching tv when he gets home and he can already see the puffy lip and the bruise on her forearm and the bruises on her chest because it’s spring and it’s 85 degrees out right now and goddamnit she’s not putting on real clothes, she’s putting on a thin ass tank top that’s practically made of clear plastic.

Frank walking in the door and kissing her and seeing all the bruises, immediately putting aside whatever actual bleeding wounds he has for the bruises and split lip of his girl, going and grabbing the ice before disappearing into the bathroom to stitch himself up or whatever other things need to be done.

And when they wake in the morning and her lip is all puffy, Frank gets her a glass of water and makes her stay in bed, telling her she can’t go to her 6am class because its simply not happening, Frank driving her to a gym instead because “this damn sport of yours is too dangerous sweetheart”

And when you get home that night, a red mouthguard is sitting on the kitchen table.

#first fanfic #drabble #frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x female reader

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soft-persephone · 4 months ago

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Something Real

MDNI // E // WC: 9.5k // smut, oral (w receiving), glove kink?, hand kink if you squint, John talks you through it // masterlist // rough drafts // AN: I had a time getting this one started, but as hard as it was, I also had fun and I may make it a series. Who knows?

Imani rushed down the block, flying past the few pedestrians that were up at this particular twilight of dawn.

Raw adrenaline coursed through her veins as each leg collided with the concrete below her feet, jolting her with such force to her goal.

She snuck a glance behind her to see he was getting closer.

Fuck.

He was catching up with her. She couldn’t let him get any closer. Barely a minute ago he was nowhere in sight and now he was gaining up on her.

Diggin deep within herself, Imani mustered up whatever strength she could find in her body, grunting with force, she somehow gained speed.

You train for this, she told herself. This is what you do, its who you are, no random fucker on the street is going to take that away from you. You were going to live and you were going to win.

Just a few more seconds and she’d be at her shop, and she could finally escape. She would win and be free.

“Aye!” from the corner of her eye, Imani saw a blur of black wool rush past her to who was behind her.

What the?

Another man was rushing towards her, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t, but he was just as fast, going step for step with her.

He slowed down when she did, reaching out to grab her, by the shoulders. Instead of her usual sloppy slow down, she collided face first into his chest.

“It's okay now.” his velvet tone flooded her senses, “you don’t need to keep running. We got him.”

Oh God.

Imani frantically tapped at his chest with the palm of her hand when she saw his friend in the dark wool coat handcuff the man running after her.

“N-n ugh- no.” she gasped for air, half choking when she couldn’t breathe in enough, “no.”

“Alex!” Elle waved him down, quickly shifting her attention once he started to jog over, “NO!”

“What do you mean, no?” Alex huffed shortly, the condensation of his breath filling the space between them as he shoved the man to the side, so he wouldn’t be near her, but he could still hold onto him. “We arrived here, just to see this man chasing a woman who looked scared out of her mind. We can ask him questions once we get downtown.”

“A race!” Elle explained, as she turned her phone around, so he could see she was livestreaming on instagram, “she was scared of losing a footrace.”

“A footrace?” The man holding Imani scrunched his face as he held her back some to look at hers. She nodded, her chest still falling up and down.

“I wasn't doing nothing!” The man finally spoke up for himself. “It's just a thing Citrusly does.” He huffed, shaking his head, “you beat the owner in a footrace, you get free drinks for a month. She’s only here Tuesday morning’s 5am to 6am for it.”

Imani felt like she could breathe a little better once Alex uncuffed the man.

Alex’s expression shifted to something more guarded, but not quite pleased or relieved, slightly sorry, but only slightly. He uncuffed the man and pushed him.

“Get out of here.”

“Fucking cops.” the man muttered, brushing off his clothes.

“I’m sorry about that. Are you okay?” Imani put her hand on his shoulder, looking him over as she would have done if the situation was dangerous, which it was not, but she had a business to run, and right now there were lots of phones recording them.

“I’m fine now.” He beamed at her. His body language shifting.

“That's good.” she squeezed his shoulder lightly, giving him a polite smile, praying it didn't give him any ideas, “because accidental arrest or not, I still won, so you don't get the one month discount.’

“Mani!” Elle scolded her, but she ignored it.

“Are you kidding! I totally would have had it, if that man didn't tackle me!”

“He tackled you three steps away from the shop door.” You pointed at Alex’s cop accomplice, “this man didn't grab me until I stopped running which was at the shop door.” she waved her hands up as she finished proving her point, “You lost.”

The onlookers cheered and laughed, some going back inside and others going on about their day as she attempted to console a sore loser.

“Tell you what,” Imani put her hands together in front of her, “As an apology, because of my friend’s actions, I’ll give you a drink and a pastry today for free, on me.”

The man, Donnie, she just learned his name was, nodded. He had a sweet smile that went well with his light brown eyes and freckled face, a few spots on his cheeks much whiter than the rest of him. You would have been all over him in high school, but right now, you weren’t so sure if you were up for anything with anyone.

“I’d really like it if I could also get,--”

“No more no less.” Imani interrupted with a playful smirk and a laugh. “That’s my final offer.” she licked her lips, ignoring how his eyes followed the movement. “Take it or leave it.”

She bounced back and forth on her heels, laughing softly and averting her gaze at Elle who looked at her like a disappointed mother. She ignored the smirk on Alex’s face and the coy look on his friend’s

“Alright.” Donnie relented, even taking a step back. When did he even get so close? She wondered. How did she let that happen? “But I'm challenging you again next Tuesday!” he pointed at her, smiling.

“I’ll always be here.” Imani opened the door for him and waved him off with one more smile.

“Damn,” a rich voice called behind her as the door was taken out of her grasp and swung open wider, “mm mm mm, that was cold blooded.”

Imani huffed through her nose, praying she didn’t jump from how he startled her.

“Right,” Alex chuckled, pushing past her in the shop.

“Tell me what you’ll say if the same person asks you out on the same day every week, but you keep giving the same answer each time, and they can’t take the hint.

Imani shook her head and made her way behind the counter to make everyone's usual.

“Every Tuesday?” Officer stranger asked.

“And Mani’s too stubborn to actually say yes.” Elle Huffed, “He’s nic–”

Imani took the opportunity to raise the pressure of the steam wand to cut her off, blowing a cloud in front of her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off.”

“I’m not falling fo–”

Imani did it again.

“Will you–”

She did it again, but this time only for a second the sound getting softer as she gently changes the texture of the milk to something silky and smooth.

“Sorry, I was actually making a drink that time.”

Imani placed it in front of her. “This one’s yours.”

“Giving her a look, Elle took her drink and left to go to the usual table. Before she could ask Alex’s friend what he wanted, he was already following her.

“Does he—“ Imani turned to Alex.

“He will eat and drink anything you put in front of him," Alex deadpanned with a hint of a grin. “He greedy as hell.”

Imani will always love her best friend Elle, but she was doing the absolute most, and so was Alex.

She and her friend have been close since college. Truly the sister she’s always wanted, so when she finally got the guy she’s been obsessed with since high school, it sucked that they didn’t get to spend as much time together as they used to, but Imani was a big girl, and she knows she can handle not being first in line anymore.

She’ll settle for two.

But right now, number two was confused on why it was so important for them to meet the best friend, that was more of a brother, to the new number one, the man her best friend was dating.

“Just to be clear, I’m not the one in a relationship with Alex, right?”

“Mani!” Elle warned through gritted teeth.

Imani raised her hands, backing off.

“You are my family and you’re important to me,” Elle put a hand on Imani’s shoulder, “just like John is to Alex.”

Imani wanted to fold in on herself.

She looked up at the ceiling to avoid Elle’s gaze.

“And as your family, I’d like to know where you have been in the last week. You weren’t answering your phone and no one had seen you anywhere. Is it because of what comes up in two days?”

“No, I’m fine.” Imani shook her head,” I just needed some time alone with my thoughts. Is it healthy, probably not, but I know what I want, and I just needed to take that time.”

“So you're okay?” Elle asked softly.

“I was in my apartment. I just chose not to pick up any calls.”

She playfully rolled her eyes and averted her gaze from everyone for a moment. They were all looking at her now, and she didn’t even know what else to say.

Fuck, Elle for doing this to her.

“Okay.” Imani hoped it didn’t come off as short as it sounded to her. All she could feel was her face burning and her ears muffling everything from how hot her head was getting. She shrugged off her jacket for good measure and took a large sip of her drink.

“John,” he held out his hand, breaking the ice first, “Sampson.” He said as she shook it.

“Imani.” She half smirked and waved a hand in an obvious gesture, since Elle has done nothing but call it out every five seconds.

“You have a last name, Imani.”

“Nope.” She said, popping the p.

“It’s Lounds.”

“Like The Lounds Enterprise Lounds?” He raised an eyebrow.

Imani smacked her teeth and leaned back, crossing her arms.

“Now why’d you have to go and tell him.”

“So you’re his semi-estranged daughter he doesn’t like talking about.”

“We’re not estranged.” She huffed, “I just make my own money.”

“And how’s that working out?” he chided.

“John, don't start with her. Once she gets started, she won’t stop.” Elle smiled as she gave her input, failing to hide her smile as she did. Not quite a master at

“Good.” Imani beamed, grabbing a cinnamon roll and picking it apart as she ate it.

“Aye,” Alex frowned, “you're wasting a perfectly good common roll.”

“It's a habit,” Imani said with her mouth half full, “it’s a test for texture. Jimmy taught me. I've been doing it all week and now, whenever I eat a pastry, I pull it apart .

Imani talked on, going into detail about texture and doughs and mouth feel as she watched John grab a muffin.

Interesting.

She laid out an assortment, just like she did when she met Alex here the first time. Who had a knack for picking out which one was the sweetest just by looking at it.

Muffins could be sweet but they weren’t sweet like other things. He must be normal about them unlike his friend.

“Slow down Sugar,” John brushed his hands of crumbs, “it ain’t going nowhere.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“It’s a nickname.” Elle mused.

“Sweet tooth.” Was all Alex said, focused on getting the rest of the cinnamon roll in his mouth.

Well that explains it.

“Why are you dressed like a Gangbanger from LA?” The John Sampson asks.

Imani looked down at her clothes, picking at the fabric of her Dickies jacket and pulling the oversized sleeves over her hands.

“They were Deonte’s.” She licked her lips before smiling slowly. “He was from LA and he did live that type of life at some point, but I- I think something happened and he used the last of his money to fly out here,” her chest used to feel tight when she talked about him. It used to make her shake and take her breath away, but now. . . not so much, “so he was uh- I think that’s why he was homeless when I met him.” She nodded, feeling like that was enough for now.

“I’m sorry I don’t mean to—“

“No, it’s okay,” Imani smiled softly, “I like talking about him.” She said in a half whisper, thinking of her long lost friend.

No one said anything so she felt the need to interject, or rather Alex and Elle had heard all this stuff before, but the opportunity to show someone else Deonte as she knew him, to share who he really was with anyone who listened, she’ll never pass that up.

“He left all that behind once he got here, I helped him get on his feet. . . let him stay with me. . .save up for a new place, but there wasn’t any need for that. We got so close and the housing market was shit, so I. . . somehow, convinced him to stay with me.” She gently cleared her throat, “for good I think.”

“That’s when he started the nonprofit with you?” John graveled, his interjection startled her. She blinked at him for a moment, remembering she had an audience.

“Y-yeah.” She smiled. “How’d you know that?” She leaned forward, but kept her hands in the sleeves of the too big jacket, “people don’t usually know that.”

“I make it a habit to keep up with things that benefit my community.” he took a non communal sip of his drink before tilting his head and squinting at it with a low short hum, “ You two did good work.” he shifted his attention back to her, “ You, do good work.”

Imani’s shoulders fell with a tension she didn't know was there. His dark eyes reflected a glimmer of. . Joy? A sort of complement of reverence she didn’t quite understand.

She searched his eyes, the feeling overwhelmed her, but she let it. She couldn’t stop the way she held his gaze and searched for more, eagerly taking as much as she could get in that moment, but then she realized what it was.

He was proud of her, of Deonte and the work they did together, and the work she kept doing after his death.

A feeling her father long since neglected to give her. A feeling she forgot she used to devote herself to once she removed herself from her father’s influence.

“You don’t like saying thank you either, Imani?”

She inhaled sharply, leaning back in her seat.

“I- I uh.”

“Most people say thank you when they get a compliment.” He said casually, but there was something in the inflictions of his voice. How the colors of his tone would sway and flow across a spectrum like a musical scale. Going from something light, casually rich, and pleasant to something low and imposing.

A skill she’s sure he’s picked up to properly reprimand and deal with the criminals he may catch, his less than agreeable coworkers who had reservations about black people and what they should and shouldn’t be doing in America, but she was no criminal, there was no danger, and she decently wasn’t a racist pig.

So why use it so flippantly?

Her mind felt foggy, but she knew not to ask.

“Say thank you.” He took a sip of his coffee. Imani watched him intently, confused in her sudden stupor, her eyes following the micro expressions on his face, his hand, soaking in the way the leather of his gloves creaked and strained as he moved. How his tongue darted to reach the foam of the latte that settled on the hairs of his upper lip, catching in his beard.

“Thank. . . You.” She averted her gaze, ignoring how tightly her legs were pressed together.

“Leave that girl alone.” Alex drawled, breaking the spell, “she’s trying to have a heartwarming vulnerable moment and you keep messing with her.”

John rolled his eyes.

“And you need to take some notes, so you can learn to do the same instead of bottling everything up until you explode, motherfucker.”

Imani winced and let out an “ooh.”

“You gon’ let them gang up on me like that?” He glanced at Elle in mock offense.

“He’s right though.” She took a conspicuous sip of her drink.

“Don’t do him like that,” Imani fiddled with the hem or her sleeve, feeling normal and letting her hands out of the jacket, “everyone grieves differently.”

“Exactly,” Alex held out his hand in a fist, not putting it down until she bumped it, “unh, that’s what I’m talking about. We gotta stick together.”

“Stick together as what?” John smacked his teeth.

“Dead partner club.” Alex said matter of factly.

Imani nodded in agreement.

“I grieve different.” She said in a partially nasally tone and pitched her voice lower. “Huh.”

“What?” Elle looked at Imani as if she was being an embarrassment, again.

“None of y’all listen to Kendrick?” Imani shrugged back.

“Is that hat an artist of some kind? Is he one of the rappers you like to listen to?”

“Elle, do not play with me,” Imani bristled. Because they’ve been friends for how long? And she still wants to act brand new whenever she brings up the goat.

“See, this is why Jannie thinks you’re old and I’m not.”

Alex bit back a laugh, but John let it fly, not having to worry.

Elle shook her head, not taking the bait because they were in mixed company, but if it was only the two of you, she would have definitely taken it there.

“Anyways,” she said pointedly, “I need a favor.”

Imani laughed through her nose.

“Shoot.” was all she said, Elle already knew she’d do anything for her.

“I need you to accept your invitation to Jonesy’s dinner party with me and—“

“Ugh,” Amani loudly scoffed and downed the rest of her drink. Grabbing her water and refusing to look up at Elle, “anything but that, Please.”

“It’s just for one night.” She urged, there will be lots of amazing people and you’ll even find more donors for your organization. It’ll be amazing event for networking.”

“Okay,” Imani frowned, “fine fine fine.” She kept saying until Elle stopped talking. “I don’t care. I’ll just go.”

This was more than a hopeful answer for her. Ellle softly squealed.

“You’ll like this one. I promise.”

“Please don’t,” Imani scoffed into her drink, “I don’t want you to be known as a liar off something like that.”

“I think that’s our cue to go to work.” John downed the rest of his coffee and tapped Alex on the shoulder.

As Alex bundled back up and kissed Elle goodbye.

Imani watched as John stood and fastened his coat.

“Are you okay?” Elle brought her out of her daze. They were long gone and out the door but she was still looking out, “You seem out of it today?”

“Y-yeah,” Imani muttered into her glass of water, “just thinking about Deonte.”

________

Fuck. Imani cursed to herself.

Fuck fuck fuck.

She paced back and forth on the sidewalk.

She hoped her eyes weren’t too red. It was a bit ago and it took her a while to get here, so maybe it’ll wear off before dinner starts. She just needed to get over it by then.

Her usual stuff was gone and she frantically kept calling her main guy until he was able to come through, but he had everything but what she usually buys from him.

Going against her better judgment, she settled for what he had and it was way too strong and it felt way too different, and now everyone was going to know she was high and she’ll embarrass herself, and they’ll hate her forever. Then Elle wouldn’t want to be her friend anymore, and her Dad will find out, and he’ll cut her out of his life and from the family forever.

“Fuck!” She shouted into the night air, searching for some reprieve.

“Mani?”

“Oh,” she softened some at the sight of her friend, “hey.”

“Are you alright? I brought the gummies you left at my house.”

Oh right.

She did ask for Elle to bring it. That’s where it was.

But it was too late. She was already on some other stuff and she had to smoke it and worry that none of it stuck to her skin.

“No, I’ll be alright without it, but thanks.” She took it and hid it in her purse, and that’s when she saw the little baggie of pills.

Fuck, she was screwed.

In addition to T seeing her have a mini panic attack he have her the pills free of charge, insinuating she take them.

“They’re real anxiety pills and shit. People use ‘em just to feel good, but you may want to see a Dr to actually get them prescribed. Let me know if you need something stronger or not as strong, and I’ll hook you up. Take care of yourself.”

Imani closed her purse.

She’ll just wait until the weed wore off and she wasn’t high to take one, she might not even need it at that point.

“Imani, let’s get out the cold and inside already.”

Huh?

Imani blinked.

Alex and Elle were giving her odd looks at the door.

“Sorry, I zoned out.”

She followed them.

She needed to pull herself together. She’ll get busted at any point if she keeps this up.

“You guys made it!” Jonesy kissed her and Elle on the cheek. Alex held out a hand for him to shake, but Jonesy pushed his hand away, going straight for the hug.

“Oh we know each other better than that, Alex.”

“Uh, yeah.” Alex patted Jonesy on the shoulder, politely putting an appropriate amount of space between them.

“Your coats can go in this closet here.” Jonesy pointed, “Make yourselves comfortable. You all know your way around the place.” He flashed them with a smile and a slight wave, “I’ll let everyone know when dinner is ready.”

“WOW, you look gorgeous Imani!”

“Thank you.” Imani pretended to be flattered by the backhanded compliment.

Since Deonte’s death she’s developed a nasty habit of wearing his clothes and adopting a lot of his personal style into hers. The extravagant more feminine outfits or even her own particular style of streetwear was seen less and she wore more dickies and carhartt than anyone in her old circle had ever seen in their life.

“Are you planning on returning to the court anytime soon?”

“No, I left my tennis days behind me, I fear.” She chuckled lightly and moved on, making sure not to be rude.

Five more interactions and twice as many more comments about her long silky dress that hugged her curves and how the color complimented her skin, Imani felt like she had a little more control of her senses. A sense of herself had begun to return to her.

“Come here.” A velvety low voice resounded in Imani’s head, and a hand firmly grabbed her and dragged her into a half hallway half corner.

Was that God? Some sort of Angel punishing her for everyone to see, making her an example of his divine punishment?

“What’s wrong with you?”

Imani gasped half a beat after he spoke, her eyes widening as she came face to face with John.

He grabbed her face in one hand, his thumb and forefingers slightly digging into her cheek as he moved her face up, down, and side to side.

“Weed.” She managed to squeak through her squished lips.

“You sure it’s just that?” He let her go, pulling up a little baggie in front of her face.

“H-how did you?”

“Don’t worry about that.’ He steeled. “Answer my question.”

Imani blinked, piecing together her thoughts to remember what the question was again.

“I’m fi—“

“— no you’re not. Your friend asks you to come somewhere as a favor and you decide that’s the perfect time to get high.”

“That’s not it.” Imani hissed. “Let me answer.”

He held her gaze, but shut up.

Good.

“I smoke to take the edge off of being here, not to be out of it completely. Although sometimes, you do need to get that high.” She ignored the disapproval on his face and continued, “I left my usual stuff at Elle’s, so I made a quick irrational decision to take something else, even though I knew it wasn’t going to go well because I refuse to be here sober.”

“Doesn’t explain these pills.”

“They're back up—“

“They’re a crime.” Imani flinched at the bite in his voice. “I could arrest you just for having these. You already admitted they were yours.”

“I just—“

“John, you made it!” Elle’s warm soft voice filtered out between them.

“This is why we don’t bring you nowhere. Can’t show up anywhere on time. Don’t take your coat off and shit.” Alex shook his head, saying the last part lowly so no one around them could hear.

John didn’t spare them any pleasantries and Imani must have looked as panicked as she felt, so much for being discreet.

“What’s going on here?” Alex's expression fell, his brows drawing close and his mouth falling shut into a firm line to match John’s.

John silently flashed the bag of pills before stuffing them back in his pocket.

“Your friend is high, out of her mind.”

“Is that why you said you didn’t need the gummies?” Elle turned to look her in the eye, but Imani turned, not wanting her to see the look on her face. But Elle stepped closer, gently grabbing her shoulders.

Imani kept her gaze cast to the side.

“Mani,” Elle whispered, “what did you do?”

“I called Tony and he didn't have what I wanted, so I had to take what he had and then he recommended these pills he said they was for anxiety or something like that because apparently he thinks I have it or that something’s wrong with me and offered to be my unofficially psychiatrist or some shit but then advised I see a real one if I took these and felt like they helped but I wasn’t going to take them unless the weed didn’t work which it isn’t so once it wears off I’m taking them but I can’t now because he took them so I—“

“Mani, breathe.” She sighed.

Imani hated that sound, and she hated the look on her friends’ face even more. .

“I’m sorry.” It spilled out of her mouth. “I just wanted to feel comfortable in my skin. I didn’t want to be here. I just want. . . I hate how they look at me.”

“It’s okay, Imani.” With a tissue, she didn’t see her pull out her purse, Elle dabbed at the tears she wasn’t aware of, “let’s just get through tonight.”

“I’m sorry.” Imani urged, desperate to show her sincerity. . Her mind not letting her come up with anything more thought out, everything she was feeling felt messier and harder to describe.

“I know, I know.” Elle cupped both sides of Imani’s face and brought her forehead to hers.

“Let’s talk tomorrow okay.” She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and Imani gave her one back on hers. “No excuses, Elle added.” A smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

“If I have to hurt Jimmy to make time for you to be with me this week , don’t get mad at me for it.” Imani smiled back.

“And I won’t.”

Imani nodded, for some reason feeling better.

John didn’t look like he approved any more or less, and Alex’s face seemed unreadable to her.

“Can I have my drugs back?”

“No.” John said seriously without missing a beat.

Imani rushed to him and pulled at the front of his shirt.

“You can keep the pills. I just need the other stuff that’s in there.”

If she remembered correctly, there might have been some shrooms and a bit of weed left.

He pried her hands off his chest.

“Are you seriously asking a cop if you can have your illegal substances back?”

“No, I'm asking a cop if I can have the legal substances back that happen to be in the bag with the illegal ones.”

“You mean you’re illegal ones.”

“Please.” She stepped into his personal space and rested her chin on his chest, craning her neck up as she did so she could look him in the eye.”Please can I just have the mushrooms back?”

“Oh just the mushrooms?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yes!” Imani leaned back from him. Happily grabbing at his arms as they rested at his sides.

“Well I’m that case,” He started to move his hand and Imani immediately stepped back to accommodate him,” no.” He shrugged his coat off his shoulders and straightened his blazer on his body.

“John, don't antagonize her.” Elle lightly chided.

Alex nodded in agreement. A hint of amusement in his eyes. “Elle’s right, don’t antagonize her John.”

Imani slumped forward, letting her cheek rest on his chest as she pouted.

“What are you doing?” John said, too exasperated to even let out a sigh, ignoring both Alex and Elle.

His display of emotion was a delightful anomaly to Imani. How could he look so upset but nonchalant at the same time?

“I’m not moving until you give them back.” She huffed through her nose.

“Then I guess we better get comfortable.” He murmured in a low peeved voice, flooding her senses with its bass and depth. She could listen to him speak forever.

“Mani, no.” Elle hissed. “Get off him.”

“He has my drug—“

Alex lowered himself so he was at her level and could get in her face. “Get. Up.” He said through gritted teeth, his tone sending a chill down her spine.

Imani rose to stand straight, but she was not happy about it.

He didn’t leave her any room. She tried to step past him, but he took one forceful step forward, backing her into John’s chest.

“Act like you have some sense.” He pointed in her face.

“No one told you to do these drugs and no one told you to bring them here. Be grateful John, or me, isn't arresting you in front of your friends and dragging you out that door.”

“I—“

He wordlessly gave her a look, daring her to speak and interrupt him.

Imani shut her mouth.

“If you’ll do what I say, then you’ll do what he says, do you understand me?”

Imani nodded silently, not wishing to provoke him further.

He patted her cheek and then backed up to take his place by Elle’s side.

“You aren’t my fucking Dad.” She muttered under her breath.

“What was that?”

“I said you aren’t my—“

“Dinner is ready!” Jonesy popped around the corner with a smile.

On instinct, Imani plastered a smile on her face and shifted her body language to something casual that suggested polite conversation.

“Thank you, we’ll be right there.” She slightly bowed her head.

“Oh,” Jonesy paused, his brows raising, “when did you and John get so close?”

Imani was no longer resting onto his chest, but she hadn’t removed herself from his personal space. While she would no longer lay on him as he stood, she settled for resting her hands on his lower half, close to his pockets.

She’s been attempting to ease them in his pocket and take her drugs out, but he either smacks her hand away or grabs it before squeezing very tightly until tears pricked her eyes, so she just kept them there in case there was a small window he wouldn’t notice her hand slipping into his pocket again.

“We haven’t.” Was all Imani said, her smile unwavering.

Adding to her amusement, John stayed silent behind her.

She watched out the corner of her eye, as he discretely moved the bag from his pants pocket to the one inside his jacket.

Fuck.

There goes plan A.

“Everyone to their seats.” Jonesy declared loudly, his voice filling the room before scurrying off with a terribly concealed grin.

Imani was very familiar with dinner parties at Jonesy’s house. He was a stickler for order and had a flair for presentation, decoration, and all things that went into being a great hostess.

One of those things he never budged on and will always obsess over to every minute detail, is the seating arrangement.

Childish as hell to some, and by some, mostly her, the seats were often set by a system only he understood, something about the structure to set up the perfect flow of conversation, so they never lulled and no one was ever bored.

Imani had the same seat around the same people each night, but not this time.

She was by John, Imani and Alex at a completely different spot by the head of the table.

The fuck?

They were practically at the end.

When Imani brought Elle, they were placed closer to the head but not there directly. Imani would be on the left and Elle would be on her right.

She peered down the table to glance at Alex and Elle once more.

He was on her right.

Imani’s brain struggled to put the pieces together.

“Imani,” a blond woman who had a clearly younger and equally blonde man stuck to her side. He fawned over her every movement, but the hollow glint in his eyes was off putting.

A forced display of desire? Or was he really that bad at hiding how much he hated the woman who was undoubtedly paying him to be here? “I heard you were investing in restaurants? What a cute adventure.”

“Not investing,” Imani took a careful sniff of her green beans before taking a bite, the accent of almonds in some type of balsamic glaze? Went really well together, a perfect way of combining flavor and texture, but the green beans were undercooked, making the dish crunch unpleasantly in her mouth, “I own a cafe and I’m slowly making my debut into the fine dining community here in DC. There’s this chef– Jimmy Raines, who reached out after visiting my cafe and trying one of my pastries. He—“

“So it’s true?” She smiled thinly, smirking, “you’re actually making food in these places? You aren’t just investing?”

“Well I, for one, think it’s wonderful,” a brown skinned gentleman next to her interrupted, “Imani is truly exemplifying how she's the best of us each and everyday, and if she figured out a way to get income from her hobbies, then I say brava.”

Imani gave Sharvesh a quick smile of thanks, but turned her attention back towards her plate.

There was the option of Chicken or Pork Chop, and she went for both.

The chicken was perfect, but the porkchop was dry, even more so disappointing, they both were seasoned the same. The flavours were not too compelling, not even in a garlic powder onion powder way of simple and good, Only salt and pepper, but they weren’t that high quality in cuts that warranted such a simple flavor palette.

They at least could have been basted or crusted in some type of herbs.

The only good thing had to be the potatoes.

Fondant, to be exact.

She made a mental note to ask Jimmy to teach her how to make them.

“May you pass the potatoes down, please?” She had to have more, her stomach felt like it opened a portal and transformed into a bottomless pit that would never get full.

Before she could put her fork down and take the platter, John had already reached for it, his arm more than long enough to reach over for it before she could.

Wordlessly, he puts some on her plate for her before adding some more to his owne,

Imani thanks him softly, and digs in, not wasting any time.

“Can I have them back now?” Imani leaned towards him to whisper in his ear.

“If you behave.” Was all he said in between bites of his food.

Sighing, she takes another bite of her chicken.

Sharvesh directs his attention towards her, ready to say or ask something else, as he takes the platter back, but John interrupts him.

“You mind passing the chicken down here too?”

“Of course.” His shoulders drop some, but he complies, recovering with a quick smile.

They were going dish per dish, plate for plate. If he wanted something, she also wanted that something and vice versa.

Dessert was atrocious and she couldn’t fight the indignant sound that came out of her mouth.

It was some type of… peach cobbler inspired thing. . . Shaped cylinder made up of layers. The peaches were clearly canned, insipid, and flavorless, overwhelmingly covered in fructose. The layer of crust was dry and it fell apart in the mouth in the worst possible way. The only good thing about it was the scoop of ice cream on the side. A terrible choice for the presentation, but at least something about it was edible.

“Can I have your ice cream?” Imani said a little too loudly. The disgust in her voice is clear and easy to pick out in her semi inebriated state.

Imani was seconds away from loudly complaining, before John pinched her side faster than she could speak.

John leaned towards her, and dropped his voice. “This is not behaving.” he hushly growled in her ear with more bite than she could physically comprehend. He wouldn't dare openly glare at her, but the threat in his voice made up for what his face could not.

She swallowed, ignoring the chill that ran down her side and the knot of warmth that quickly raced through her lower belly.

Imani flinched away from him. Unable to fight the fear that he might do. . . Something.

The look on his face and tone of his voice made her think of a look she remembered a mother giving her child in public one time.

Apparently, she is acting out.

“How was dinner? It was nice wasn’t it?” Elle questioned as they stood around once more for cocktails.

“Don't ask a question and not give someone a chance to answer.” Imani scolded into her cup without looking up. “And then don't give your answer first.”

“Well someone’s clearly sober.” Ellle half singed in a soft voice. “How do you feel?”

Imnai frowned, pondering.

“Upset. . . but not like, disappointed.” She licked her lips. It would be mean to say it out loud , but she couldn't fight the nagging voice in the back of her head. The thought of saying it, seeing her say it, and all the possible reactions of the words once she said them, were starting to become its own beast. The thought of not saying it at all begins to eat away at her and she now has to say it.

“Upset. . .dinner was, well it wasn’t terrible but it could have been better.”

“You and John practically ate half of everything?” Alex’s brows drew together.

“That was mostly potatoes and the. . “ She turned towards John who was scarfing down one of the “dessert cocktails, “what was the vegan dish?”

“Red pepper chickpea souffle’.”

“Hot hummus.” Imani nodded matter of factly.

“Definitely sober.” Elle said with a shake of her head and a smile.

“I’m sorry,” Alex interrupted, looking concerned, “are we just okay with Imani being rude as hell for no reason.”

Imani’s face felt like a child’s would if they’re parents told them no after they asked for ice cream. Her cheeks puffing in another pout.

“It's not on purpose.”

“She was raised to be emotionally unavailable and is learning to express herself emotionally.”

“Elle!” Imani said shortly in warning.

“She left her feelings wheel at home.”

Imani opened her mouth to defend herself, but quickly closed it in realization.

Elle was doing this on purpose. Why?

“Ain't nothing wrong with trying to better yourself.” John interrupted out of nowhere. “The right way is always better than self medication.” he tossed his drink on the nearest tray as it went by. “But what do I know? It's not like I got a degree in psychology or anything fancy like that.

“Nigga, done read two books sand thinks he knows something.”

Imani laughed, rolling her eyes.

They said their goodbyes and grabbed their coats, shuffling back out into the chill of the night air.

“Mani!” Elle called out.

She turned, the wind whipped at her face. The snowflakes falling into her lashes slightly obscured her vision,“Yeah?!” She called back.

“John’s taking you home.”

And he did.

“There are more things than drugs that can take the edge off” he was so close, his words rumbled against Imani’s face, pulling at something within her and making her pussy throb.

Her tongue felt thick as she licked her lips.

“Like what?”

Like what included Imani’s bare back to his still dressed chest, watching his leather clad fingers rub torturously slow firm strokes against her clit.

“Please. . . “ she whimpered, throwing her head back into his chest, her smooth bare legs shamelessly spreading wider, straining against his pant legs.

She attempted to grab his offending hand with hers to do something, anything, but he stopped her, restraining her hands against her chest in a tight grip.

“I’m so close.” She tried again with a sniffle. His deft fingers found a way to circle the sensitive nub of her clit even slower, before sliding off down her lips and into the wet center of her pussy. He curled his fingers in an equally slow pace, fueling her desire and bringing her back to the edge. Driving her insane, but nowhere near what she wanted.

“Look at you,” he trailed firm sloppy kisses down her neck before coming back up. Imani Relished the feeling of his lips. Craning her head back into his chest so he could trail them along her jaw.

He pulled his fingers out of her pussy to hold her chin back, her arousal pooling between them on the bed and what was left of it on his fingers trickled down her face as his lips locked onto hers in a backwards upside down kiss.

She keened into his mouth as he wantonly pushed his tongue past her lips to slide his tongue against hers.

“I wonder what sound you’ll make after you taste yourself on my tongue.” He added another finger and started sliding them in and out of her at a faster pace.

“Oh,” she softly let out.

He brought his other hand to her clit, letting go of his cruel grip on her hands.

She immediately brought them to his arms, squeezing tightly at his sleeves, but she wouldn’t dare stop him, not while she felt so good.

His finger glided across her clit at a steady cruel pace. With each stroke of leather against her puffy nub she gushed around his other fingers that slid in and out of her pussy. His thick long fingers were filling her up.

“Look at you,” his voice was hot and low as it brushed against her ear, “all that talk, but you do just what I want you to.”

“Please,” she strains, somehow straining her legs wider. He responds by curling his finger into her, digging her out and hitting a spot she didn’t know was there. Her hips chased the movent, and he didn’t stop her, letting her fuck herself onto his hands.

“And you ask so sweetly” his rich dulcet tone was a song in her ear she didn’t want to end. She’d let it get stuck in her head forever.

“You wanna cum for me?” He added another finger not waiting for her to respond.

Imani mewled, blinking away a stream of tears as they stung her eyes.

His words pulled at something within her. The desire had her body ablaze, but his request was adding a foreign feeling into the mix. Tinging her desire with another burning emotion that electrified her nerves and filled her with something akin to bashfulness or fear, but it was a fear colored with an excitement for more that she would never admit, unless he made her, and something told her he could.

He pushed down on her clit.

She cried out against the movement, her hips jolting foward in shock, but pressing against his hands just as much, increasing the impending pressure, causing her to leak onto the hand that was sliding in and out of her.

“Cum for me.”

And she did.

Her legs jolted and tensed, as she spilled into his gloved hand.

Before she could let out any moan, he snaked his head around her to swallow any and every sound in a kiss, his beard danced against her cheeks as he did. The slide of his tongue on her matched the movements of his hand buried in her pussy as he buried them inside her, coaxing her through her orgasm..

Once over, he eased from behind her.

Imani layed back onto her sheets with parted lips. Watching with hooded eyes as John stood over her.

She swallows the lump in her throat as she watches him enveloped his own gloved fingers past his lips, lapping as much of you as he could off them.

When he slid his hand out his mouth, something in his face changed, making her body flush with even more heat. The thin sheen of sweat on her body started to burn, unable to catch up with her ever flowing desire and the man who caused it.

He tugged roughly at his gloves and threw them on her nightstand.

Her hips dipped in the bed as she watched him unbutton his shirt, revealing the expense of flushed dark brown skin overflowing with a warm undertow of gold.

She pant for more, her tongue threatening to lathe out her mouth at the sight.

She needed her mouth on his skin.

The smirk he gave her as he shoved himself out of his pants sent a jolt through her body.

“Keep those legs open. I want to taste you.”

And taste her he did.

Imani shoved at his head as much as she could, pushing with all her might, but he ignored her and latched his mouth on her more firmly, sucking hard at her clit.

His bare hands felt even better, but she couldn’t take it.

Her lips were sore and puffy and her clit was aching.

Each push and pull of his finger inside of her brought another tear to her eye, and his mouth on her clit only made her keen and whine at the pain, but her pussy had other thoughts.

What she registered as pain and too much, her body only felt an override of pleasure.

Her legs strained open, pathetically begging for more and giving him easy access. She gushed and flooded his tongue with each cry, whine, and whimper.

“Please, please, please. . .” Was all her brain would let her say through her cries of ecstasy and tears.

“I’m giving you all I got baby,” he added a third finger, his voice against her puffy pussy making her squeeze each and every one of them, unbearably filling her up more than her mind could comprehend, “what more do you want.”

He switcher from sucking on her clit to lathing it with his tongue. Swiping with slow firm movements. Her hips follows each one. With his tongue hitting her clit just right, his fingers stuffed snuggly inside her, and his beard scratching oh so pleasantly at her sensitive overstimulated skin, she came again without warning,

He hummed against her, making the feeling that much more euphoric and that much more unbearable.

He pulled his fingers out of her. As they slid out, they were followed by a hot sticky stream of her arousal.

“You’re so creamy.” He kissed her inner thigh, smearing the mess she was making further along her body,

He pushed his tongue in her, his beard scratching overwhelmingly at her pussy. Wet, sloppy sounds and matching slurps filled the room as he continued to eat her out.

Imani clutched the back of his head, pulling at his hair. She’d had enough. She couldn’t take anymore and she needed to put a stop to him now or else he’d kill her. . She’d be surprised if her knuckles weren’t raw and split in the morning from how hard she was pulling, but it only encouraged him,

He moaned into her, making her whimper and lose her grip,

“Please. . “

She didn’t realize it until he was looking at her through her legs that she had came again.

He looked half crazed. A hunger so deep and intense, she had to avert her gaze, but her eyes were back on him once he made his ascent towards her. Without looking away, he crawled over her body.

“Come here.” He said like velvet, leaning down, he trapped her in a hard kiss. Haunting her senses and pushing against her further, swiping against her mouth more intently than he had the entire night.

“Mmh,” she whimpered in between kisses. They were soft and keening.

When she had made one particularly drawn out mewl his hips pushed against hers, causing his dick to smear precum against her lower belly.

“Mmmmm.” He broke the kiss in satisfaction. “Keep that up.”

He moved her to her side, putting one of her legs around his waist as he settled behind her on his side.

“You ready?” He smirked against her ear, kissing her right below it. His breath was hot.

She shook her head into the sheets, straining her eyes shut in worry.

If he wasn’t holding her, she’d collapse into the bed, and her pussy was worn out and tired.

“Oh, you can take it. Don’t be like that.” The gentleness of his voice was in contradiction with the cruel way he rubbed his dick through her folds. Holding one hand at the base, he meticulously and cruelly swayed it from side to side before smacking it against her pussy and then repeating the action.

“Mhm,” she whined in protest, “stop.”

“See, “ he ignored her, "you can,” he pushed inside of her without warning, “take it.”

Imani couldn’t remember the last time she felt so full. She couldn’t remember the last time she wanted someone to fill her up. He was opening up a desire she forgot she had.

He started with slow languid thrusts.

“Damn, baby.” He moaned in her ear. “Damn—“

She clenched around him, making him swear.

He thrust into her harder and she keened, her walks opening back around him.

“Just like that, keep taking it,” he graveled in her ear, “you take me so well.”

Imani mewled, squeezing tight against him once more.

His hips snapped harder, pushing through how tight her pussy was holding onto him.

“Fuck. . .” She moaned softly.

His hot chuckle danced on her skin as she swore for the first time tonight.

“You like that baby.”

She let out a drawn out moan.

“You like when I tell you how good you're doing? Like when I tell you how good you take this big fat dick? That you let me fill you up like this? Dig you out?”

He licked his lips before kissing along her neck.

His beard rubbed deliciously against her skin, the satisfying scratch heightening her senses.

She let out a long string of incoherent noises, unable to talk back.

He smirked into her neck as he pushed her onto her belly, snapping his hips into hers at a grueling pace, her walks desperate to keep as much of him inside as they could.

Without wanting, she snaked her hand around to grab his head and pull him closer.

“John.” She moaned.

His duck jumped inside her.

“John.” She called out again. Her voice was soft and strained with need.

A need for him.

John had plenty of women who wanted him, who threw themselves at him, and sometimes it was women he may have wanted just as much, but he can’t call how many of them needed him. Not like this. Not this much.

That wasn’t his style. That’s not who he was. That’s not how he got the name Two-John.

But tonight, he’d let himself be needed.

But only for a moment.

Mustering up the last of his strength, he thrusts into her harder, faster.

She went limp under him. Her hand slipped out of his hair and beside her head. Not taking any chances, he grabs her hands and refrains them above her head. Her pussy throbs around him and he makes a mental note of that.

She whimpers, keens, and mewls, and shuts up.

Freeing him of thoughts of being needed.

“You like it rough too?” He slowed down, thrusting as hard as he could with each stroke, letting her feel every inch from tip to base.

“Cum on this dick baby. Cum for me.”

He enveloped her neck with his teeth, biting hard. She moaned into his mouth and he moaned as he felt it vibrate in his lips.

By some unforeseen power, she did. Imani came just when he told her too.

She squirmed in his mouth. But as his hips slowly moved her through her orgasm as he also came down from his, she attempted to move her neck but he wrapped his hand around her throat as he bit her again, squeezing firmly. His other hand grabbed at her hands, leaving her at his mercy.

He let go of her neck, lapping at the intentions of his teeth before moving to her collar.

As her pussy painfully throbbed, snd the sting on her neck followed suit, an odd sensation like she was being punished washed over her as she settled down.

“John.” She called out again.

It seemed to pull him out of his trance.

However, he didn’t move his mouth off of her without one final clench of his teeth. She whined, shuffling against his grip and the feeling of his dick softening and the condom inside her.

He peeled himself off her.

Imani felt an odd sense of Deja vu as she watched him with hooded eyes as he moved above her once more that night.

His chest rising and falling heavily under a thick sheen of sweat.

She had had one to match, her skin sticky as well, but she was so exhausted her lungs failed to rise and fall in her exertion. She only pant silently into the air.

John was going to tell her he should go.

Grab his clothes and make an exit.

But he couldn’t stare himself from her gaze. Those big brown eyes and puffy round cheeks, tugs at something within him he thought he buried long ago, but if it did occasionally come out it’s grave, he knew how to fight it back down into the pit where it belonged, but it wasn’t until now, after he came, did he realize he fucked up.

“You got a bathroom?” He needs to focus on something. Focus on a task until he could find a way to leave you.

“Other side.”

Her artsy open plan loft was off putting.

There were no hallway walls. Every room bled into the other except for the one extra room downstairs and the bathroom.

He’s confident the single room above that looked over every size of the loft, that also had no surrounding walls, was your bed.

He grunted once he finally found the bathroom and the lined closet. Running warm water over it he made his way back.

There were plants galore, art and other knick knacks littered everywhere in an organized mess. An island? Oversized bar cart? Whatever it wasproudly displays an espresso machine and equipment and tools he didn't understand.

If it’s a bar cart, it’s a waste to not have a proper alcohol display, but to each their own.

“If that’s your room upstairs than this is—“

“Yeah it’s Deonte’s room.” She interrupted him, fidgeting as he cleaned her up. He tried to look into her eyes and gauge where her head was at, but she kept averting her gaze.

“Can we not talk about it?” The softness of her plea startled him.

Reminiscent of a tone he’s heard Elle use ever so often with Alex, but not as headstrong or demanding. It was insecure, panicked, and vulnerable.

He nodded, wordlessly climbing into bed.

He froze as she instantly moved against him, cuddling into his side and wrapping an arm around his waist as he laid on his back. She snuggled up against him as if she belonged there, and for half a second, it felt that way.

Unable to find an excuse, he stayed.

But as she drifts to sleep, he keeps thinking what exactly he got himself into.

Fucking a woman in her dead exes bed, a woman who hadn’t had sex with anyone since his death three to four years ago, sharing a moment he knew was just sex, but what did she think it was?

But he remembers her other suitors.

The way Elle complains when she blows off or intentionally ruins the dates she sets Imani up with.

How Elle makes side comments whenever she brushes off a guy who hits on her and asks for her number, and he settles, drifting into a sleep as deep as hers because if anyone wanted a relationship less than he did, it would be Imani Louds.

He was sure of it.

taglist: @megamindsecretlair @nerdieforpedro @blackpinup22 @kindofaintrovert @notapradagurl7 @unknownpinner @jedinightsister @m1sk1n3

@kemkem101 @savvysav1 @professionalm1sandrist

@bbyxgall @blackpinup22 @sweettea-and-honeybutter

@brattyfics @blowmymbackout @cherrypoppers1

if you notice any errors, please let me know. My brain hurts and i have no beta readers.

#alex cross #Cross #Fanfiction #x black reader #John Sampson x black original character #John Sampson x OC #John sampson x black OC #x original female character #x black original female character #x fem oc #x black fem oc #isaiah mustafa #amazon prime #2024 #Isaiah Mustafa x reader #black writer #black fanfiction

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jam3sacaster · 4 months ago

Note

No body asked, but some Tony x reader smut, but the reader is Declan's siblings.

fun fact: this is my first ever tony x reader request 🤯🤯 love it!

“That was gloriously naughty.”

(Rivals) Tony Baddingham x Reader

18+ FANFIC / Smut & super Tony angst. Reader character aged at 21. Hope you enjoy! 🩷

At what seemed like the crack of dawn, but was actually 6am, you were rudely awakened by the irritating ring of your phone on the receiver. Your eyelids still heavy, and voice huskily thick with sleep, you held the phone to your ear. “Hello?” You croaked, leaning against the wall for stability. “Hello? Is this Miss O’Hara?” A shrill, upbeat voice chimed from the other send. “Speaking.” You groaned. “Lord Baddingham has requested to see you at the Corinium office, 9am sharp, if you can make it?” The woman asked you, a condescending tone seeping its way into her tone. “Why?” You questioned, rubbing greedily at your eyes, but the phone cut off instantaneously. Fuck, what has your idiot brother done now?

Punctual as ever, your rusted, turquoise Ford Escort rattled into Corinium’s car park at ten to nine. Thankfully, you were a lot better presented than your vehicle — dressed elegantly in a tweed checked pink and white blazer and skirt, a white turtleneck blouse and ivory kitten heels. With apprehensively bated breath, you tiptoed to the front desk, to be greeted by a spindly lady with a starkly-cropped bob. “Miss O’Hara, I’m supposed to be meeting Lord Baddingham at 9?” You prompted. Before the svelte receptionist could reply, the menacing click of heeled boots across laminate flooring filled your body with anxiety. “Miss O’Hara! Right on time.” Tony Baddingham beamed, quickly glancing at his watch. “Follow me.” He clicked his fingers and began to thunder down the corridor.

Tony’s office was unnerving — his desk was unornamented, the tan leather guest sofa was inflexible and unforgiving, his glare was censorious. He sat at the desk, legs reclined atop it, his fingers crossed against each other in consideration. “How can I help, Lord Baddingham? I was quite shocked to receive the call this morning.” You mumble, anxiously fidgeting with your nails. “I saw you in the Bar Sinister a few nights ago, I’m not sure if you’d remember. I thought you looked beautiful. Regardless, I let it go but I found I just could not stop thinking about you.” He admitted, his eye-line firmly affixed on the sight of your breasts pushing against your turtleneck. “O-oh, okay. Well, thank you. I don’t see how this is relevant to you calling me here. I thought Declan was in trouble.” You spoke in hushed tones. Tony rested his feet back on the ground, and pushed his chair further into his desk, slightly closing the gap between you both.

“No! No, your brother’s fine, don’t worry. Don’t worry about him.” He tittered, harshly forcing his laughter. Tony stood now, walking around his desk and pushing your chair away with the tip of his foot. “All I could think about the other night was bending you over my desk and giving you the fucking of a lifetime. I’d like to act upon that.” He informed you, his hardened features mutating into a superior smirk. “Lord Baddingham! You’re a married man.” You choked out. “Only at home. In my office, I’m a free agent.” He winked.

You weren’t quite sure how it happened, but you found yourself wildly attracted by him, peeling your blazer frantically from your body and crashing your lips against his. His touch was cold, but unimaginably lustful. He firmly stripped you of your clothes, his thick cock pressing against his navy blue trousers at the sight of you — naked and vulnerable. Without undressing, he shuffled his trousers and boxer shorts down, just enough, and released his cock, leaking precum. “You look so tight.” He spat, pawing at his cock to ready himself. You could only whisper softly in response. With a hardened grunt, Tony bent you over his desk and thrusted inside you, keeping a hand on the plump curve of your waist to steady himself. “Fuck.” He groaned through gritted teeth, your wet cunt constricting itself around his girth.

Fingernails digging firmly into the darkened oak table, you moaned lustily as Tony’s tempo increased, immediately chasing his orgasm. “You’re so wet.” He breathed out, his balls thumping against your clit, coaxing a deep moan from the depths of your chest. “Look at you fucking me over your desk, Lord Baddingham. You haven’t even locked the door.” You teased, delighting in the sensation of his cock stretching out your cunt. Tony wouldn’t be able to hold off for much longer — the intoxicating sensation of your heat and the sight of your voluptuous body beneath him making his spine shudder in pleasure.

“Keep talking.” He instructed, squeezing at your waist even tighter. “All of your employees are j-just outside, hearing you fuck me so hard over this desk.” You continued, your own words making your cunt ache in lust. “Tell me I’m the boss.” Tony commanded once more, feeling his orgasm close in on him. “You’re the boss, Lord Baddingham. You’re my boss.” You moaned. A symphony of cacophonous grunts parted from his lips as he shot his load — ropes of hot cum coating your pussy. His body trembled under the pressure, waiting for a few moments before he pulled himself out and straightened himself up. “Clean yourself up.” He directed you, and waited for you to dress yourself.

Despite your outfit not quite looking the same way it did before you entered the office, you managed to peel your clothes back onto your sticky skin. “That was gloriously naughty. Do call me again, Lord Baddingham.” You smirked, to which the cold man could only light a cigar and recline back in his chair. “You can go now.” He mumbled.

#rivals #rivals disney+#rivals disney #rivals hulu #rivals fanfic #rivals fanfiction #rivals smut #lord tony baddingham #lord baddingham #tony baddingham #david tennant #lord baddingham x reader #tony baddingham x reader #my asks <3 #requests <3

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meazalykov · 10 months ago

Text

invisible string theory

lena oberdorf x uswnt!bayern!reader

part one - part two - part three

another year of your happy relationship goes by when you’re at the world cup with the united states.

in australia, you sat in your hotel room– a little sad that your closest friend, mallory, got injured pretty badly in the game against ireland. she had to get surgery and won’t see the pitch for a very long time.

luckily, you shared a room with your new friend trinity. however, its 6am and she’s in a deep sleep after the late training from the night before.

so, in order to not wake trinity up– you facetimed lena from the bathroom. you stood at the counter and washed your face as the sound of the facetime was waiting for lena to pick up.

yes, its 6am, but lena gave you the rundown of her schedule. she is supposed to wake up at 6 before her national team breakfast at 6:45am

“hallo!” you heard another voice yell as you wiped your face off with a towel. not being able to see for a few seconds, you thought that you accidentally called the wrong person.

however, you wiped your eyes and seen jule on the screen– her usual smile shines as it looks like she is sitting on a patio.

“hey jule! how are you?” you say excitingly. jule being lena’s closest friend at wolfsburg (along with svenindis) you built a good bond with them– even though they’re lena’s friends.

“i’m great. obi is in the bathroom and i heard her phone going off– i ignored it at first but when i saw it was you, i had to answer because i wanted to speak to you.” jule says.

you pout, smiling as you never realized how much lena’s friends adore you for making their friend happy.

“jule i can give you my phone number if you ever want to talk.” you told her.

jule agrees and you give her your phone number to type into her own phone.

after you did that, you heard another voice on facetime.

“jule! i was looking for my phone.” lena laughs.

jule smiles as she’s looking at you on the facetime before lena picks up the phone.

“ohhh! so that’s why you had my phone.” lena sees you and looks over at jule before taking her phone inside their hotel room.

“guten morgen liebe” lena blushes as she sees you putting on eye cream in your hotel bathroom.

“guten morgen liebe” you repeat as you blend in the product into your skin.

one thing lena loved was seeing you do your casual morning/afternoon/night routine while on facetime. she is excited for the day that she can live with you and see it in person.

“you know what today is!?” lena giggles.

today, your country will be facing the netherlands in the second group stage match.

the media had a joke that the netherlands were going to seek revenge on you. not the united states– you.

lena started participating in that joke when she saw it come across her tiktok for you page.

after your goal against them in the last world cup final, the netherlands had a point to prove with you.

“i do know what today is– hopefully we win.” you say as you apply facial moisturizer on your face. lena sits her phone down as she looks at herself through the camera, pulling her hair up to put into a messy bun.

“i hope you do too. you’ll need to win in order to get beaten by us in the final.” lena laughs. you giggle and roll your eyes playfully as you pick your phone up.

unfortunately, that scenario wouldn’t happen.

as you’re sitting in your hotel room watching germany play south korea, your stomach feels like its been on a roller coaster.

your country has already qualified for the round of 16, but lena’s team has to WIN against south korea in order to advance.

you shut your computer dramatically as the whistle blew from the refs. since the stadium is in another area from yours, you couldn’t watch lena with germany unfortunately.

trinity, alyssa, sophia, and savannah look at you with confusion, empathy, and realization when they see you open up your macbook again, watching in horror as germany was eliminated in the group stages.

“germany is eliminated?” sophia asked, they’re aware of your relationship with the german girls due to the club you play at. they’re aware of your relationship with the wolfsburg midfielder, a bond that they (silently) wished they had with someone.

you looked up at her nodding your head, you were heartbroken for lena.

remembering what happened with her at euros and the champions league final against barcelona– you were crushed, you couldn’t be there to comfort her this time since you were with your own team.

for a couple of hours– more like all day– you didn’t hear from lena. that was okay with you– you weren’t obsessive and knew that lena needed space.

you occupied your time by going on an adventure with some of your uswnt teammates. savannah, emily, and kristie invited you to go get gelato with them– which you agreed to.

when the entire national team heard the news about germany’s elimination, they knew that you’d feel hurt for lena and your bayern teammates. kristie, in particular, understands since her girlfriend plays on another national team too.

while you were grabbing gelato, which was already 8pm at this point, your phone vibrated in the back of your jean pocket.

when you saw lena’s contact, you immediately accepted, excusing yourself from your teammates to go outside of the gelato place– sitting down on a random picnic table.

“hallo liebe.” you spoke softly, understanding how hurt she might be.

she called you instead of facetiming you as well, you knew that she didn’t want you to see her so upset.

“hiiii.” lena dragged out.

you frown as you hear the raspiness of her voice.

“you did amazing obi.” you reassure lena, knowing she is beating herself up about this exit from the world cup.

“it wasn’t enough though.” lena protests.

“lena!” you say. she knew you were serious when you said her name instead of her nicknames.

“colombia played dirty, you tied with south korea, and your team did amazing against morocco– you’ll be hurt for a while but I promise things will get better.” you say, your serious tone was clear through the phone call.

“i just wanted to win so badly, i want to see you happy.” lena says.

“obi, you make me happy everyday. you’re the best thing i could’ve ever asked for, i don’t know what i did to deserve such a great person like you. you’re an amazing midfielder as well, one of the best! you’ve surpassed me! i’m happy for you everyday even if this wasn’t the outcome we wanted for yourself.” you say.

lena and you talked for another ten minutes, discussing things that she can now look forward to.

when you had to go, you reassured lena that she did great– even if she doesn’t believe that herself.

little did you know, it was only three days later when lena would be comforting you.

in the penalty shootout against sweden, you were the first penalty taker. after you made your penalty, you had a high hope about the us having a small chance of making it through.

lena didn’t tell you this, but she was in the crowd along with some of your bayern teammates from germany. sydney, klara, and lea were there along with laura from frankfurt. you thought lena went back home to wolfsburg.

she held onto lea’s arm for relief and cheered dramatically when you made your penalty.

you stood in the line beside julie ertz and sophia smith, afraid as your worst nightmare became a reality.

when hurtig scored the final penalty, your breath almost got stuck in your throat as VAR had to review the replay. even though you were an optimistic person, you knew deep down that your 2023 world cup campaign ended here.

the refree blew the whistle and pointed to the middle and all of the swedish players in yellow ran in excitement. at the same second, it seemed like all of the noise was canceled out from your ears as you stared in horror.

what went wrong? you first asked yourself. nothing should’ve. you scored once against vietnam, scored the only goal against the netherlands, and cleared a goal that could’ve put portugal above you guys on the group stage table. there’s nothing else you could’ve done.

as you walk towards the benches, alex was the first to hug you tightly. she knew how much this meant to you, yes even after scoring in the world cup 2019 final and winning.

somehow, you wanted to prove to yourself that you’ve grown since being 17 and 18 years old, the version of you that won a world cup and champions league.

the team got in a circle and discussed that it was a “good run” and things needed to “improve”

you agreed on the last part.

in the crowd, you looked around at the crowd dressed in red, white, and blue. you believed that you failed them. you failed the little girls that had your last name with your national team number, “17” on the back. somehow, you felt like you were being mocked for losing such a big competition after winning the last two.

the tears poured down your face and wouldn’t stop. you tried to pretend like you weren’t crying, but it was no use. you sat down on the grass and held your head in your hands as you realized that there was no “quarter finals,” or ‘semi final” in your immediate future.. you’re going back to munich.

as you cried more, you felt four arms wrap around your body from all sides. you didn’t look up, believing that it was someone from your national team.

“y/n, you played so well!” you heard the familar swedish accent in your ear.

you wiped your tears with your hands before looking up.

madga and fridolina were hugging you as you continued to cry. madga knew how hard this game was for her, since you look at her as a mentor and friend.

“please don’t hurt yourself over this.” fridolina spoke up.

you never played with fridolina, but lena did at wolfsburg. fridolina knew you well enough to know that you were a sensitive person.

“hold on, i’ll be right back.” madga spoke up and unwrapped your arms from you.

your body leaned on fridolina’s torso as you kept your eyes closed. you weren’t crying anymore, but you needed some type of comfort.

after five minutes, madga came back and frido pulled you off of her body and you felt yourself laying on someone else.

your tears poured again when you smelled the coconut scent you’re all too familiar with.

“liebe, i’m so sorry.” lena whispered, sitting on the grass as you laid across her body.

you didn’t say anything as klara, sydney, laura, and lea hugged you around lena. all of your bayern teammates (+ laura) loved and valued you as their close friend. they knew how ambitious you were, so seeing you sad made them sad.

“you were the best player on that pitch, i’m not even kidding.” laura says as she kissed the top of your head in a friendly, yet comforting, gesture.

“i love you.” lena kissed your temple before you sat up from her body, but your legs were still spread across her lap.

“Ich liebe dich auch” you respond.

you receive comfort from your bayern teammates (+ your girlfriend and laura) for twenty minutes before everyone decides to head out. not without making sure that you'll be okay, and to call them whenever you're free to.

“i was about to go and get you, but i didn’t want to interrupt.” alex morgan says when you walk into the dressing room, sitting down beside her in the locker room.

you weren't the last one in the dressing room, since some players are outside receiving their own comfort from family and friends– but alex has experience on what its like to lose a world cup, and she wanted to make sure that you’ll be okay.

“it’s okay. i just want to go home now.” you mumble as you take your blue cleats off, changing them for black adidas slides that you put on your tired feet.

alex observes you a little longer. she had a gut feeling that there is something else on your mind, but she debated on if she should bring it up to you.

knowing that she will barely see you once you go back to germany, and her to san diego, she decides that she will.

“how’s lena doing?” alex asks.

you smile lightly as you take off your jersey, replacing it with a soft black t-shirt given by the staff. you folded your jersey and put in in your bookbag, remembering to give it to lena once you had the chance to.

“i think she’s doing better. we haven’t talked about her loss much because of this.” you say.

alex smiles lightly before nodding.

“well at least you guys get to spend time together once you’re back in munich.” alex says, wording it in a suspicious way.

you swallow on nothing as you stare down at your feet.

“yeah..” you mumble.

“well- she’s still in wolfsburg and i’m at munich so we will just have a week together. we plan on spending it in ibiza though.” you say in an indescribable manner.

“that’s fun.” alex says.

the woman knows you all too well. you don’t really have to be “pushed” to talk about how you feel about something, you just needed the safe space provided to do so.

“it is. i just wish that we would have more than a week together though.” you comment.

alex’s eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“what do you mean?” she asks.

“we are long-distance, since wolfsburg is hours away from munich. however, its been two and a half years since we started dating and i feel like long-distance is making us fall– behind.” you whisper.

luckily, all of the other girls in the dressing room are keeping to themselves with music blasting in their airpods, so you’re comfortable talking.

“if you mean that you’re falling behind from other people. you shouldn’t think that way– you can’t compare your situation with other peoples.” alex says, wrapping her arm around your shoulders.

“i know, but i think the long distance is catching up to me. i wish we could just play at the same club and live together. it would make things a lot easier for us. we plan on getting married someday so it has to happen someday in the future.” you rant.

“maybe you should talk to her.” alex suggests.

“i should– and will. but i don’t know what to say. lena has said on many occasions that she would never come to bayern– and i don’t see myself going to wolfsburg either.” you look over at alex who gives you a look of sympathy.

“what about a new club? a club that will take the both of you. i mean, you’re the best attacking midfielder in the world and lena is the best defensive– any club would be on their knees to have you both.” alex says. you laugh at her last couple of words.

“we’ll see.” you say.

what you didn’t know was that lena wanted a new challenge and has been thinking about it for a while. at first, she had to come to term that the way she will get that is if she leaves wolfsburg.

after the defeat against barcelona in the champions league final, a shift in lena’s mind happened. she suppressed it but now she realizes that she might have to leave wolfsburg in order to gain some motivation back.

in january 2024, you extended your contract with bayern munich until 2027. this made you happy, the club made you happy, and the club was happy to keep you for another few seasons.

lena was started to grow frustrated with the distance between you both as well. she wanted to stay in germany to be closer to you and her family– so she accepted that bayern is the only place for her to go.

when rumors about lena joining bayern started to grow, you confronted her when she suddenly appeared at your apartment with a few bags of luggage.

“what’s been going on? the wolfsburg media is hating you because they’re saying you’re coming to bayern– even though you said you never would– and now you’re here unexpectedly. i mean, you’re always welcome here sweetheart but what's going on?” you say as you pull lena’s luggage into your bedroom.

after you sat her luggage down by your bedroom closet, lena pulled your body towards hers and held your hands softly. you looked at her with a confused, yet soft, facial expression as she gave you a light smile.

“i’m going over to bayern in an hour. i’m joining bayern.” lena says, not avoiding the truth.

your jaw dropped as you looked for any sign that she was lying, she wasn’t.

“you’re not lying?” you say. lena nods her head.

“wait- wait- you don’t have to join just because of me if you really don’t want to come here. i know you said many times that-”

“sweetheart, ich möchte hierher kommen und bei euch sein und in Deutschland bleiben. Ihr zwingt mich zu nichts, das verspreche ich.” (I want to come here and be with you and stay in Germany. You won't force me to do anything, I promise.) lena cuts you off as you move your head into her chest, hugging her softly as you realized that she will finally be with you.

you’ve been with bayern and lena long enough to be fluent in your third language, after english and french.

“you’re finally going to be here with me.” you whisper.

“yes i am.” lena kisses the top of your head as you both hug in silence.

she's been with you for three years now, but it seems like she's been around for much longer than that.

I hope you enjoyed <3

#lena oberdorf #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #Alex morgan #fridolina rolfö #sydney lohmann #wwc 2023 #wwc 2027 #champions league #uswnt players #uswnt imagine

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inc0gnitoo · 11 months ago

Text

first off the list…

stardew valley <3

harvey x reader- doctors orders SMUT

youve been dodging your appointment for months now. an embarrassing amount. so, lucky for you, your neighbor shane is helping you out by forcing you to go!! aren’t you just lucky. now you have to try and pretend you DONT want to have sex with your doctor. have fun!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a screeching cry from your horse woke you from your slumber, bringing you a shocking way to wake up. shooting up from bed, you shoved yourself into some pants and scurried outside, the brightness of the lovely 6am sun blinding you. sure, farm life was great. the responsibility, the freedom, the cute animals you would take care of, it was nice.

your neighbour, shane, not as nice. especially on mornings like this, where his idea of helping out was trying to clean out your poor horses nails.

“y/n!! did i wake ya?” he chuckled a bit, knowing damn well what he started. he pulled himself up from the ground he held your horses shoes at, as it let out a huff of frustration. wiping his forehead, he grinned at you.

“thought ya wouldn’t mind if i helped you with your horse this time around. i usually deal with the chickens but..”

sighing, dramatically, you raised a brow. what an idiot. but, he was your best friend, and had always been since you first moved here. sure, he wasn’t doing so great when you first met, but he’s cleaned himself up a bit. thankfully. for your sake, and for jas.

“shane..” you laughed a bit, almost in disbelief at his attempts. “thanks, but i don’t think poor maverick deserves any of what you’re trying to do.”

giving you a somewhat cocky, but pouty expression, he practically dropped with sarcasm as he whined, “you don’t appreciate my hard work.” he strolled over, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“need me to give you something to do?” you asked, gesturing your head towards your coops, full of clucking creatures that would be oh so grateful if you decided to give them their morning due.

“actually,” he began, pulling out a crumply letter that you assumed he’d pulled from your mailbox. “the doc wants you to go for your checkup.”

“you went through my mail?” you huffed, crossing your arms. he had a tendency to do that, especially when he was the one sending it. he was confident in his ability to give you good gifts. like pizza. or that weird bun recipe? which you’ve never tried? and probably won’t?

his grin turning into a more mischevious smirk, he nodded his head. “sure did, farmer. i’m sure he’s gonna have a very important conversation with you today,” he wiggled his eyebrows, childish as ALWAYS.

sometimes you wish he stayed the emo alcoholic he was before.

“shane!” you began, flustered as you snatched the sheet from his hand, scanning it quickly. just a nice, quick and brief letter. no connotations whatsoever. but shane knew you would overthink it. that little crush you had on your doctor was no secret.

“and it’s first thing in the morning too. must’ve been thinking about you all ni-“

SMACK.

giving him a hard tap on the shoulder, you smacked him away, making your way past him, burning with embarrassment. steam practically seethed from your ears. “i. will deal with that. after YOU deal with the chickens, kay?”

rubbing his arm while wincing a bit, he began his walk to your coops. “boo. you’re no fun.”

no fun? no fun??

sitting in your doctors office, bouncing your leg with anticipation and nervousness was definitely your idea of fun.

the clock in harvey’s clinic was broken. not in the way that you couldn’t read the time, but the sound it made. the incredibly clacky ticks it would make like it was on its last legs. which it basically was. speaking of last legs..

“come back as soon as you need it, george!” harvey’s voice came from behind the door, creaking open as evelyn, pushing george through the door that harvey held for them.

“thank you, doctor harvey. you are too kind.” evelyn, the sweet old lady she was, always so generous with her words. it made poor harvey so bashful. it was cute.

she smiled to you, the anxious little farmer sitting in the waiting room, ignoring the shaking of your leg. “good luck, dearie.” george, much unlike his wife, completely ignored your interaction, crabby as always.

harvey snapped his head to face you. “ah, y/n. early, i see?” of course, you had shown up 25 minutes sooner than you had to. shane was starting to push your buttons, what else were you to do?

nervously, you cleared your throat, the ringing bell or the door to the clinic closing filling the room. you spoke, “y-yeah, haha. i just was excited to-“ he raised a brow, allowing you to pursue your sentence despite your obvious hesitation. “ah, see what you wanted from me.”

“excited?” your doctor had a smirk creeping on his face, “i surely haven’t heard that term before when used in my office, but it does have a nice ring to it.”

you were just as shocked as him, listening to yourself talk. sometimes you wondered how you even managed to speak to people with the things that came to your mind in conversation.

“glad to hear..” you breathed, standing up from your seat. “so.. you called me in for..?” you inquired, hands stuffed into your pockets uncomfortably as you shuffled over to him.

“mm, yes.” harvey hummed, making room for you to walk into his office, almost pressing himself into the wall. he was too polite for his own good. nonetheless, he spoke, “i just had a few things i needed to discuss. nothing to panic about.” he reassured you, knowing how you felt in his office. ever since you’d first moved to pelican town, you’d always been nervous going to his office. sure, 5 years living here, you’d think that you would be used to it by now.

maybe it wasn’t just the office..

oh, for sure. it was him.

you couldn’t help it. he was so gentle with you. the way he’d make sure you were comfortable with everything he was doing, everywhere he was touching. always asking questions, and he was so, so charming. and his hands-

“take a seat, please.”

his orotund voice instructed you, his hand held out towards the medical bed. as you made your way over, he grabbed his clipboard and set a sheet of paper under the clip.

“okay…” he mumbled, mostly to himself, sliding his pen down the sheet, almost as if he was observing a checklist. your leg, subconsciously, began to bounce.

sliding a chair up to the bed, he took a seat, huffing a bit as he did, almost getting relaxed in the chair and slumping his hips forward. he clicked his own, and gazed up at you through his glasses.

“just going to ask you a few.. introductory questions, as usual.” he looked back down at his sheet, taking a moment of pause before speaking up once again.

“what has your diet been like?” he asks, genuinely. he had a way with his clients, his patients, you supposed. he always cared, perhaps due to the size of the town, being so small and insignificant if you weren’t apart of it. he was interested in the lives of the people he worked with, or maybe he was just interested in you.

“ah, since it’s summer, i’ve been having lots of strawberries from the farm. corn, too. lots of corn..” you sighed, feeling a bit sluggish at the thought of returning to your farm and ripping off those corn stems again.

“so, mostly your own crops, then?” he raised a brow, curiosity swirling in his eyes. he’d always been so fascinated with the idea of living on a farm. it was appealing, being in control of your own business. to him, at least.

nodding your head, you looked at him, for the first time this appointment, already feeling your face grow hot at his intense eye contact.

“yes, usually.”

scribbling a note into his clipboard, it felt like the silence was collapsing in on you two. it was hot, you felt hot.

he clicked his tongue, seemingly satisfied with whatever he wrote down, and looked back up.

“i’m assuming you’re good with exercise, of course. your body is great.”

he hesitated, a bit, seeming to overthink his words.

and with good reason, the implications of his sentence gave you a chill down your spine, feeling flustered and uncomfortable in your seat, suddenly. like you had to jump up, go for a run.

“uh, health wise, i-i mean. not that you don’t look great.” he corrected himself, a bit breathless as he spoke, knowing damn well he’d just made it worse. he couldn’t help but put emphasis on his words. either way, he hurriedly moved on, observing his sheet once more.

you sat in anxious silence, still bouncing your leg. there wasn’t much in his office. not much noise, except if you listened, his breathing. it was heavy, much like your own. like he’d been the one being examined this entire time. yet, he was the one with his eyes on you.

“are you.. sexually active?”

feeling yourself grow hotter by the second, you cleared your throat. “um, n-no. not currently.” why did you say it that way? why did you overthink your words so much, too? he’s asked you this question a dozen times, every appointment, and for some reason, you felt so, so, on edge just from his voice. the way he asked you. his voice was low, as usual, but it was gruff. like he’d been talking too much.

“mm.” he hummed, again, scribbling on his board. his face was pink, his ears mostly. which really sold him out. he’d like to think he was more nonchalant, especially when it came to appointments with you. he was glad nobody else had to come in today. he could take his time with you.

“just to confirm, you are aware this is a physical exam, yes?” he cocked his brow, almost inquisitively. like, he knew you weren’t aware. he was dying to touch you already, even if it was strictly kept professional. something about the way you would shiver every time his hands grazed your skin gave him a sense of superiority. he liked it.

but you, a tad shock stricken, nodded your head. “ah, i’m aware now.” you murmured, fiddling with the ring on your finger, feeling awfully shy, worse than before. now he has to touch you, and oh god, you weren’t sure how your body would react.

“i did give you a warning on the letter, don’t stress about missing it,” he said as a gentle reminder, setting down his board. he stood up, adjusting his jacket before taking it off, smoothing it out as he set it down on his desk.

slowly, almost trying to antagonize you, he began rolling up his sleeves, buttoning the cuffs. looking back over at you, shaky leg and all, he chuckled a bit. he grabbed another chair, sliding it in front of you. this one was a bit more at your level. when he sat on it, he was taller than you now.

“no need to be nervous, y/n, we’ve done this before.”

harvey attempted to put you more at ease, which was of course, helpless. he knew you wouldn’t relax. as much as he wished you would. not like he could help it though, he knew how you reacted around him. it’s not like it was a secret.

every physical between you two was the same. his cold hands against your warm skin, giving you the chills. he’d apologize, and you’d breathlessly apologize back, for being so nervous. and he’d say, “no, please, it’s okay.”

as you began snapping back to reality, there he was standing in front of you, pulling on a pair of medical gloves. leaning down to your level, he made himself face to face with you. a snap came from his wrist as he gave you a smile. voice low and pleasant, he spoke,

“i’ll be gentle.”

your helpless attempts to keep yourself still were.. to say the least, pathetic. he started off normal, as most appointments go, but the moment his hands went to feel your waist, you lost any sense of normality.

as soon as harveys hands grazed your waist, your back seemingly out of reflex, arched forward, causing you let out a gentle gasp. he looked up at you, again, through his glasses, raising his brow. frantically, you immediately went to apologize,

“i-im sorry. i get-“

he squeezed your waist a bit, almost teasingly, like he was scolding a dog for stealing a treat off the counter.

“ah, ah, no apologizing anymore. doctors orders.” he was stern, commanding. that wasn’t a recommendation, that was a demand. and you weren’t about to ignore it. especially with how he looked at you as he spoke. his eyes were slightly hooded, almost as if he was tired and had just woke up moments prior. but he was focussed, hyper aware of every movement you made, and even more hyper aware of every apology you’d been mumbling each time you’d make a sound.

saying nothing, you nodded your head, making a slight ‘mhm’ in response. his brows furrowed a bit, as he sat up. suddenly, it didn’t feel like you were in the doctors office anymore. he seemed on the verge of cracking, feeling a sort of lack of confidence in his professionalism. one more word from you and he was sure he’d break.

“good job.” he purred, pulling his seat in closer. he set his hands on your knees, he was above you now, from this angle, looking down at you as he spoke,

“i’m going to have to get a bit more invasive, i’m sure you don’t mind, do you?” he inquired, knowing full well your answer. taking a large breath, a shaky one, you spoke,

“please.”

without a moment of hesitation, you were kissing your doctor. every time you’d thought about it, you’d never imagined it would be like this. his hands on your thighs, locked lips so hotly you could barely breathe. the both of you didn’t want to separate, feeling so nice together. harvey refused to let go of you, his hand sliding up your hip to grab your waist.

he took his time feeling you, letting his hands praise your body. it was different than during your check ups, now. he was able to go wherever he wanted, however he wanted. learn your body more than just how the textbooks said it would feel.

“ah, i’ve felt this.. aching, for months.” harvey crooned through kisses, only taking a bit of a pull away to look at you, admiring the redness of your cheeks, and how hot you felt, and how beautiful you were.

“i cant believe i let myself take forever to touch you like this.”

god, he was making it difficult to stay quiet. your mind was foggy, swarmed with thoughts of what he was going to do next. where his hands were going, how hard he was going to kiss you, and where. and how his lips tasted when they were connected with yours. and how he’s just as desperate as you are, and how you wanted him more than anything right now.

he stood up slowly and almost hesitantly, keeping his head down to yours, not allowing your lips to keep themselves apart. his breath was minty, fresh and it tasted just the same. it was delicious. as he stood, his knee slid between your legs, moving his hand to your back to push you further into it, more against the edge of the medical bed. “mm, much better.” he whispered, mostly to himself, feeling the heat between your legs against his knee.

quietly, you let out a little noise, taking hold of his arm and gripping his dress shirt with your nails. harvey, sucking in air through his teeth, pressed you further up against him, your chests together.

“please don’t stop grabbing me like that.” he whispered, placing a final kiss on your cheek before lowering his head down, nuzzling himself into your neck. his hand was teasing you, pressing and rubbing circles into the nerve in your hip, sending waves of pleasure into your groin. he knew the body so well, and man, were you grateful for it.

his knee left your thighs as he pressed his tongue to your neck, giving you a shiver of arousal down your spine and earning a gentle moan from you. “ah, so you’re sensitive there?”

“e-everywhere, doc.”

he felt the hairs behind his neck rise as you spoke, “doc? you want to keep me in charge, do you?”

whining a little, you nodded, “i want you.” your voice was so scratchy, feeling weak and unable to breathe. but in the best way, knowing it was him that could make you feel like this. vulnerable.

“mm.” his voice was lustful as he crooned to you, “you do, do you? how about you get on your knees then? doctors orders, y/n.”

a chill crawled up your neck, arousal burning through your veins. you were so willing to listen to him, immediately making your way to the floor, sitting on your knees with your hands set on your lap.

he tilted his head to the side, strumming his thumb across your cheek. “good,” he whispered to you, sliding his thumb across your jaw. you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes and just leaving yourself there, only for a moment, before took his hand away.

slowly, harvey began to unbutton his work slacks, looking down to you. “you’re okay with this?” he asked, his hand stuck on his zipper. how sweet of him. he was so reassurance, always fining you a way out. even in his appointments, your check ups, he would always make sure you were doing okay.

of course, this situation was.. much different.

“yes. of course, harvey.” you purred, looking up at him with hooded eyes. “i’ve been wanting this just as much as you.” you insisted, unable to calm the giddy feeling in your chest at the thought of pleasing the man you’ve been obsessing over for the past.. way too long.

he groaned, a slight whine in his eagerness, unzipping his pants and pulling them down, revealing the tent that you gave him. you leaned forward, taking the initiative, and allowing yourself to take his cock yourself.

lucky for you, he was the perfect size, something you had problems with other men before. as you gazed up at him with admiration, he was holding his hand against his face, redness pouring into his cheeks. he was looking away from you, hiding his gaze.

you chuckled a bit, wrapping your hand around his length. “shy?” you teased, before opening your mouth and teasing the tip with your tongue.

“haah..” he breathed, immediately looking back down to you. your eyes, with batting eyelashes, were sending him spiraling, he could barely contain himself. “beautiful, y/n.” he whispered, placing his hand on the back of your head.

you teased him for a bit longer, not wanting to give him the satisfaction just yet. it was payback for all those times he’d done this to you during your check ups. all those times maru had interrupted just as his hand would slide up your thigh. all those times he’d murmur in your ear, knowing the implications behind his phrases.

“ng, no more of that.” he grunted, pushing your head further onto his cock. you hesitated, just for a moment, before finding a steady rhythm, swirling your tongue around him. his low and guttural moan told you he liked it.

“that’s good, that’s sooo good, don’t stop.” harvey sighed, rocking his hips back and forth slowly, but surely, as he found grip on your hair, pulling it up into a bundle in his large hands. each time your hand would twist a certain way, it would elicit a content moan from your doctor, and a mumble of praise. he knew where he wanted you to touch, where he wanted your mouth to go. and he would lead you there, pushing your head down, filling your mouth more with his length. it was addicting, his praise. his touch. you were willing to do anything for him at this point. anything to hear that pretty voice of his call you perfect.

“ha..” he chuckled, running his fingers through his hair, ruffling it a bit. “y-you keep doing that, i don’t know how much longer i can-“ he groaned, through his teeth, his brows furrowing. you had found a new pace on his cock, one that he particularly enjoyed. “ahg, last..”

you smirked a little against him, finding a sick pleasure in his weak points. seeing him made humble. it didn’t last long though, as his grip on your hair tightened, pulling you in.

“y-yeah? like seeing me all bent out of shape because of you?” he gasped, feeling himself drawing closer to his finish. “wanna make me.. nervous?” he panted out, a whine laced in his tone. he was less confident now, his voice shaky and weak.

pulling away with a pop, you smirked, “i really really do-“ you said with a mischievous grin, feeling proud of yourself.

sadly, that pride didn’t pursue much longer. he took the opportunity of you soaking in your pride to take you by the jaw and pull your face up to look up to him. you gasped in shock, though he had a soft expression, he had a smug smile smacked on his face.

“your turn.” harvey purred, helping you pull yourself up with the grip on your jaw and allowing him to hold you closer, wrapping his hand around your waist and squeezing it as he spoke, “go on, sit. you don’t need me to make you, do you?”

“no, sir,” the words fell out of your mouth so effortlessly, like you weren’t thinking before you spoke. and you weren’t. it was humorous, really, how you could go from so confident to needy and obedient so quickly. he loved it.

the nickname ‘sir’ gave him chills, giving him that sweet feeling of superiority over you. sure, he had his fair share of sex in college, but he was never confident enough to be able to actually execute the fantasies in his mind.

but now, he had you.

and you were all his.

with zero hesitation, you were pressed on the bed, the plastic sheet crinkling beneath you. your back was already arching just from the thoughts rushing through your head. what was harvey going to do now? how much better was it going to feel? your eyes went to his hands, watching him as he slowly removed his gloves.

“cant have those..” he mumbled to himself, tossing the gloves aside before crawling above you on the bed. his shadow fell over you, enshrouding you in him. his hip bones pressed up to your own, leaning his head down to your ear, mustache brushing against your skin as he whispered,

“stay still.”

as harvey found his place with his lips buried in your neck, you could feel his hand slide down your waist, sensitivity making you suck in from his touch. you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you, just from knowing what he was going to do. it was like a dream, you felt crazy. your brain couldn’t comprehend anything now, except how badly you wanted his hands to keep going.

and they did.

harvey tugged on the hook of your farm slacks, giving you the opportunity to pull them down yourself, and wrap your arms around his back underneath his own. feeling your hands on him, he let out a sigh. “i love when you touch me, y/n.”

“i love touching you.”

letting his mind wander for only a brief moment, harvey groaned, his thoughts going everywhere but appropriate places. he was glad he was living it, instead of just imagining it. sitting at his desk, thoughts of you invading his mind. poor maru, asking why he was so zoned out.

he was teasing you, holding his hand just above your crotch and the brink of your panties,leaving it there. your legs shook, and you bucked your hips slightly forward and up against his palm.

“please.” you whined, feeling an overwhelming tightness building in your groin. it was paralyzing, almost, the way you felt so weak. and it irritated you, how he was treating you like this. of course, it was him doing it, so you didn’t mind. he was spoiling you just by allowing you this opportunity.

just as much though, you were spoiling him. he was so grateful he was able to touch you like this.

harvey chuckled a little, pleased with your whimpering. he slowly pressed his finger against your clit, the fabric rubbing up against it as he slowly drew circles on it. you gasped, your back immediately arching up. you cursed a bit, under your breath, gaining a sinful sigh from him as he smiled at you in satisfaction.

you tugged on the band of your panties, hoping he’d get the hint to remove them. “harvey..” you whispered, pathetically.

he raised a brow, a straight expression screwed to his face. “hmm?”

“take these off.” impatiently, you spoke, in a slightly stern tone, finished with all this teasingly vague touch. harvey, startled at your sudden tone, blew up in red, clearing his throat. “ah, aha.. if you insist,

y/n.”

you had to admit, you liked how flustered he became. how you could feel his grip tighten on the sheet beneath you. how his brows furrowed because of how flustered he became.

as harvey slid down your underwear to your ankles, you kicked them off the bed urgently, adjusting your position to be further up against his hand, earning an amused hum from him. he was reminded of you, and your position beneath him, and it gave him a delicious feeling of warmth in his groin.

his hand returned to his place between your legs, beginning a sort of circular motion on your clit with his thumb before slowly sliding a finger inside, eliciting a sweet moan from you. he hummed, quite satisfied with himself, and created a gentle rhythm.

harvey was talented with his hands, there was no doubt about it, you thought, grateful that your doctor was the man he was. you were lucky, for sure, having such a dexterous man being the one finding his place inside of you. and you showed him your gratefulness, rewarding him with moans of ecstasy just from his hand.

he got comfortable, inserting another fing-

“doctor harvey?” a knock came from the door.

you jumped, breath catching in your throat, causing his finger to twist upwards pressing into your g spot, causing a moan you couldn’t help to begin to slip from your lips. harvey hurriedly slapped his free hand to your mouth, giving you a stern expression.

“y-yes, maru?” he stuttered out, his thumb almost subconsciously continuing to massage your clit, screwing your eyes shut in pleasure.

“i was just wondering if you needed any extra support with your paperwork.. i know you’ve been busy..” she sounded hesitant, like she had more to say.

“no, no. i’ve got it all covered,” he said, so casual, despite the bead of sweat dripping down his forehead and the occasional hard swallow. he looked back to you, the smallest and most mischevious smirk on his face.

slowly, he put another finger in, curling them up into your g-spot, making you buck your hips forward up into his hand, almost on instinct, like a reflex.

“ah- harvey-!” you gasped into his hand, and he simply pressed it harder onto your mouth.

“keep it down, y/n.” he whispered, “cant have maru hearing you whimper like that, can we?”

slowly, maru wrapped her hand around the handle, beginning to twist it, “are you sure? i can-“

“i-im quite sure! thank you! i believe you have work to do, don’t you?” harvey rushed, a shot of fear running through his body at the thought of his assistant catching him like this with a patient.

with you, at that. yet, a rush of excitement ran through his mind at the same thought.

“if you insist..” she let go of the door, her footsteps clicking across the floor as she made her way back to the office.

you let out a sigh of relief into his hand as he removed it, boiling up a bit of anger. “h-harvey! what were you-“

“sh.” he whispered, “don’t act like you don’t like the rush.. i know i do.” he sighed, breathing a huff of air. “as nervous as it makes me..” he mumbled the last half under his breath, as if you weren’t sharing your most vulnerable parts together. he still wanted to be perfect for you. taking his fingers out, causing you to sigh in frustration, he fumbled a bit, grabbing your hips.

“can i…?” he asked, his eyes trailing down to his length, feeling overwhelmed with the idea of being inside of you. he’d been waiting too long, and knowing now that maru had the potential of coming in, he didn’t feel like waiting anymore.

any anger you had against his insane ideas washed away at the thought, and you whined a bit. “oh my yoba, please, yeah.” you groaned, letting your head knock back.

he positioned himself, taking a moment to ensure you were comfortable. “is this… okay?” harvey whispers, only a tad on edge from the almost immediate loss of his job earlier.

“yes, yes, please! how many times are you gonna make me ask?”

“i like the way you say please.”

with that harvey was eager, eager to finally feel himself inside of you. slowly, he began to push his length into you, as you immediately squeezed on him, unable to control how your body naturally reacted to his cock. it was mesmerizing, and thanks to his treatment of you earlier, you weren’t in pain.

“mmgn.. yes..” he whimpered quietly, his head cocking backwards in pleasure just from feeling how you wrapped around his cock. “ahh.. ah- i don’t know..” he whispers, slowly beginning a steady but sloppy pace, “how long.. i can last with you.”

you moan softly, placing your fingers over your mouth. “please please just fuck me while you can.” you gasp, breathless as the feelings overwhelm you, but in the best way. harvey was big, and you didn’t realize it until he was inside of you. but god he felt good.

with absolutely zero reluctance, harvey sped up, panting out gasps and moans, and little whines in between. he lowered himself down to your ear, his breath hitting the cusp of it hotly, his whimpers crisp for you to hear. it was intoxicating. he was intoxicating.

“y/n.. y/n, y/n, y/n..” harvey murmured, the words coming out of his mouth slurred and seductive, bringing a tightness to your groin that made you clench around him.

“don’t stop.. please, doc.” the nickname slipped from your lips again, earning you a satisfying groan in your ear from your lover above you, his thrusts growing faster and harder. his hips grinded against your own, as you brought them into his in a passionate rhythm.

his moans began to sound more like whiny gasps, his confident demeanor diminished. he was so entranced, so desperate to feel good, feel you. and those moans of yours and how tight you felt around his cock and the feeling of your bare skin touching and how hot-

“y/n.. so..so close!” he begged, almost expecting those cries to get you to help him cum, and his voice brought you closer to your finish yourself.

his name left your mouth thoughtlessly, reaching your arms up to pull him close to your chest, nails clawing into his bare back. “yes! yes! like that-ah!” you cry, your legs wrapping around his waist as you cum on him, and he joins in unison.

harvey slows his pace almost immediately, growing quick with fatigue as he pulls himself out of you, shivering at the feeling.

about as exhausted, you shift yourself slightly to sit up, feeling an apparent ache in your body. letting out a huff, you become increasingly aware of how loud the crinkling was on the bed. and then it hits you.

“harvey?”

“y-yes?” he gasps, breathless.

“you.. DO have sound proofing right?”

FIN.

#harvey x reader #harvey x farmer #stardew valley #sdv harvey

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