#like she knew there was no chance he was coming
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shhhhHHHHHUTUPIDONTWANTTOTALKABOUTIT
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The first time you sleep over Katsuki’s, it’s not long after he’s moved into his apartment with the rest of his friends.
Which is bold, the only one who doesn’t flirt with you any chance they get is Mina -mainly because she has her own place- but she’s always telling Katsuki that the minute you get bored with him, she’s there to swoop in.
But his friends waste no time in making sure to rile Katsuki up with cheesy pickup lines that mean nothing to you, but everything to him. He hates the idea of having his friends hit on you, but you’d be lying if riling him up wasn’t exhilarating.
You smile as you hear bare feet pad along the tiling of the kitchen, a massive presence looming behind you; it’s warm, loving, and you feel yourself relaxing at the closeness.
“Morning,” he rasps, arms wrapping around your waist. You smile and curl against him, tipping your head back to look at him.
“You hungry?”
“You didn’t have to make us breakfast,” he murmurs, pressing a loving kiss to the curve of your neck.
You mewl and bend your arm to wrap around him, “I know, I just wanted to do something nice for my man and his friends for being such good company last night.”
He grumbles, “don’t ever refer to my roommates as ‘good.’ Bunch of fucking menaces and creeps.”
“They can’t be too bad,” you hum, turning off the stove. God knows how long you’ll both be drooling with affection. “After all, you let me meet them,” you coo. “And you’d never let your little baby be put in danger.”
“Fucking hate when you call yourself that,” he snaps, spidering his fingers up your side. You squeal and shrink to the side, only to be met with pokes on the other. “Katsuki!”
“Don’t be a little shit and I won’t have to torment you,” he snickers. You’re quick to flick off the stove with what little movement your arms can give you while protecting you from tickles, and you duck as fast as you can under his caging limbs to escape.
He must like the challenge, because he lets you go, only to barrel after you into the living room. A small coffee table separates you both, and you’re at a standstill as you watch each other.
“Katsuki!” You giggle, making a sudden dart to try and throw him off your trail. It doesn’t deter him, like he’s able to predict what you’re going to do before you do. “Y-You’re gonna wake everyone up!”
“I’m not gonna do a fuckin’ thing,” he snorts. “You’re the one screaming and whining.”
“Am not!”
“Are too.”
“Am not!”
“Are too.”
“Are not-“
“I think it’s bold of you to argue with me instead of sprinting away.” He shrugs, making a dash for you and wasting no time in grabbing you into his big arms. You writhe and laugh in his grip, desperate to not shriek and wake his poor roommates. Giggles bubble wildly over your lips, and he hauls you back into the kitchen before plopping you onto the countertop, distant from the stove. You instinctively move your hands to card his blonde hair, and he leans in to steal the last of your giggles from your lips.
“How much time we got before breakfast burns?” He mumbles, hands smoothing up your thighs. Crimson eyes glimmer with mischief, and he bumps your nose with his.
You chuckle and shake your head, legs wrapping around his thick waist, “it was burning before you came in; I turned off the stove so it wouldn’t burst into flames.”
He snorts, “good.” One of the hands resting on the meat of your thighs comes up to grip your chin, “now I don’t have to rush.”
“Ew,” you giggle, but it dies as quickly as you said it when he connects your kiss, working his lips against yours in this own way, full of passion and love with just enough tease to have you whimper.
The hand on your cheek shifts down to rest on your delicate throat, dangling like a necklace. A subtle act of dominance to make you shiver.
“I love you,” you murmur against his lips.
“I love you more-“
“Ewwwww!!!”
“Who knew he had a weakness?”
“Lookin’ good, Dynamight!”
Immediately, Katsuki’s shoulders hike up as the shrill voices from his friends ring through the air. You let out a string of laughter while the other boys you were visiting peer around the wall of the apartment, Sero with a face of disgust, Kirishima with a playful understanding and Kaminari with a cheesy bite of his lip.
“I’m going to KILL YOU IDIOTS!” He barks, abandoning you to dash over to the trio, mainly targeting Kaminari and Sero, who sprint away as fast as they can. Kirishima chuckles and makes his way over to you, helping you off the counter with a sigh.
“How’s he ever going to keep being Number One if you keep doing this to him?”
You snort and elbow his ribs while somewhere in the house, Katsuki caught Denki, and the screams ring loudly in the walls.
“Shut up and help me remake breakfast, dickhead.”
#I MISSED WRITING FOR HIM U G H#bakugou katsuki#bakugou katsuki fluff#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki x gn!reader#bakugou katsuki x reader fluff#bakugou katsuki imagine#bakugou katsuki bnha#bakugou#bakugou fluff#bakugou x reader#bakugou x reader fluff#bakugou x gn!reader#bakugou imagine#bakugou bnha#bnha#bnha fluff#bnha x reader#bnha x reader fluff#bnha imagine#bnha x gn!reader#bnha x gender neutral reader#bnha x you#bnha x y/n#bnha x yn
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I LOVED YOU FIRST | FC43
an: guys i’m so sorry for the atrocities i’m about to cause by posting this, i’m especially tagging @obxstiles to make sure they don’t miss it and that they cry muahaha there MAY be a part two to this
summary: for as long as she’s remembered she’s loved franco, wether those feelings were ever reciprocated she doesn’t know.
wc: 4.4k
She remembered the sound of wheels against gravel. Even as a kid, Franco was fast—kicking up dust and stones as he went, all edges and adrenaline. They grew up on the same street, a road that was more dust than pavement, cutting through a small town nobody had ever heard of, deep in the countryside of Argentina. Back then, he raced down that road on a beat-up go-kart that rattled and threatened to fall apart with every turn. But he didn’t care. Even at eight years old, Franco could talk of nothing but cars and speed and the shimmering, impossible promise of a life far from here.
She was the one who stood at the end of the road, cheering him on as he came barreling toward her, heart in her throat every time he cut it too close. She told herself that’s just what friends did—waited around to see the other one make it back in one piece. But there was more to it, even then. She’d never told him, of course. Franco had always been too focused on the next race, the next finish line, to notice much about her that wasn’t familiar. It was easier that way. They were friends. That was enough.
Years passed, and with them, his childhood kart became a racing simulator, then an actual car, then a series of wins that only proved what she’d always known—that Franco was going somewhere.
Last year, his parents sold their house so he could go further, could reach another level she couldn’t quite see. He moved in with her and her family when he wasn’t racing, and for a few months, it was as if they were kids again, laughing late at night, plotting his future as he spilled out every dream he’d ever had. That was the year she started imagining he might finally see her the way she saw him.
But he didn’t.
Instead, Franco saw everything she wasn’t: the girl from another world, polished and magnetic, with a face and laugh that gleamed like the trophies he’d already started to collect. She caught him, snared him in a way that didn’t even seem real.
It was this girl—her name slipped off his tongue so easily when he let it—who went to the big events with him, who stood beside him when photographers crowded around after his races, a reminder that he’d already begun to belong somewhere else. She wanted to hate her, this stranger who was everything she wasn’t, but what good would it do?
It was easy to tell herself she was Franco’s friend. His best friend. The one who’d been there since the beginning, the one who stayed up with him on those late nights when all his dreams felt heavy enough to drown him. She’d learned to wear it like armour—the friend, the constant, the steady hand on his shoulder when his voice cracked and his confidence faltered.
No one else knew the small things about him, the things that made him human. Like how he had a superstition about not putting on his helmet until the very last second before a race. Or that his favorite thing in the world was the sound of tires on wet pavement, a soft hiss of rain and speed. Or that he used to dream of buying back the house his parents sold and giving them something better.
The nights she couldn’t sleep, she’d replay those memories to herself, like scenes from a film she’d seen too many times. They were pieces of a person she’d built up in her mind so completely, so painstakingly, that she sometimes forgot he wasn’t hers. Not really.
Now, Franco was leaving again, but this time it was different. The call had come last night, and she’d been there when he answered it, watching the way his face shifted, lit up with something she hadn’t seen since they were kids. He’d been invited to join a Formula 1 team—a chance to race against the best, a dream finally realised.
And she’d been the first person he told. “I’m in,” Franco had whispered to her after he hung up, his voice hoarse with disbelief. “I’m actually in.”
He’d pulled her into a hug, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself believe this moment was for her too—that she was a part of the dream. But when he finally let go, she could already feel him slipping away, his mind racing miles ahead, far beyond anything she could reach.
And now here they were, standing on the same dusty road they’d grown up on, only this time the road was empty. She could almost see his silhouette against the horizon, an outline that belonged to no one, not even her.
“So… this is it, huh?” she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands stuffed deep into her jacket pockets. She knew this was her job now: to be strong, supportive, even as she felt her chest tightening with everything she’d left unsaid.
Franco glanced over at her and smiled, that careless, easy grin she’d fallen in love with a thousand times. “Yeah. This is it.”
There was a part of her that wanted to say something, to tell him what it felt like to lose him, to have spent all these years beside him only to watch him walk away. But she didn’t, couldn’t. Because he needed her to be his friend, his rock. And that’s exactly what she would be, until the moment he disappeared from sight.
“You’ll be amazing out there,” she said softly, swallowing hard against the ache in her throat.
“Thanks,” Franco replied, his gaze drifting to the horizon, to whatever was waiting for him. He didn’t see her watching him, didn’t notice the way she tried to memorise every detail of his face, the way she gripped the fabric of her jacket so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Because that’s what she was: the person who stayed behind, the person who would cheer for him no matter how far he went, even if it took him far beyond her reach.
His first race was in Monza.
And Franco had made sure she’d be there.
The roar of engines echoed across Monza, the air thick with the metallic scent of fuel and adrenaline. She stood just outside the paddock, watching the mechanics scurry between cars, drivers in their fireproof suits weaving through a sea of engineers and cameras. It was Franco’s first Formula 1 race, the one he’d been chasing since the days they’d spent on that dusty street back home. He’d called her a week ago, saying he’d arranged for her ticket, that she had to be there, that it wouldn’t feel right without her.
She glanced down at her pass, fumbling with it between her fingers, her eyes darting over the crowds, wondering if she’d see him. But instead, she saw her—Franco’s girlfriend, standing just a few paces away, a beacon in the busy paddock with her polished, perfect smile.
She thought about turning around, slipping into the crowd where she could cheer Franco on from a distance, as she’d always done. But then Franco’s girlfriend caught her eye, waved her over with an easy, welcoming smile, and suddenly it was too late.
“Hi! You’re Franco’s best friend, no?” she said brightly, as if she’d been waiting for this meeting. “Franco’s told me all about you.”
She managed a smile, trying not to let her surprise show. “Nice to meet you,” she replied, her voice steady but her heart churning. This girl looked so effortlessly perfect—too perfect, really. She wanted to find something in her to resent, a crack, a flaw, some hint that would make her presence easier to bear. But the girl’s smile was warm, even gentle, and there wasn’t a hint of cruelty behind her eyes.
“You know,” she continued, turning to look at the track where the cars were being readied. “Franco always talks about how you’ve been there from the start. He says he wouldn’t be here without you.”
It was a sentiment she’d waited years to hear, but hearing it now, coming from someone else, made it feel empty, hollow. She nodded politely. “He’s worked so hard for this. I just… wanted to support him however I could.”
The girl looked at her, a spark of admiration in her eyes. “That’s really special. I think it means a lot to him, having someone who’s known him for so long.” She hesitated, her fingers twisting a ring on her hand. “I think he’s planning to introduce me to his family soon.”
A prickle of something sharp and painful settled in her chest. She managed to keep her face composed, even as the words sank in. “That’s great,” she said, injecting her voice with encouragement. “That sounds really important to him.”
The girl smiled, her gaze drifting as if she could see the future taking shape right in front of her. “Yeah… he said he wanted to wait until we’d been together for a year. He’s so thoughtful like that, you know? He really wants things to be right before introducing me to his family.” She looked at her, a touch of gratitude in her expression. “I think he got that from you—from seeing how much his family means to you.”
It was a kind thing to say, too kind. She wanted to hate her for it, but she couldn’t. There was nothing false about the way this girl looked at her, no jealousy or possessiveness. She was just… nice. The kind of nice that made her ache with the unfairness of it all, because it made it impossible to hate her, even though she desperately wanted to.
“Well, his family will love you,” she said, meaning it even as the words felt like they were tearing something fragile inside her. “He deserves to be happy.”
The girl gave her a soft, almost sympathetic smile, a smile that made her wonder if maybe she already knew—if she could see right through her, if she understood the look in her eyes, the one she tried so hard to hide.
As the engines started up in the distance, the girl reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” she said, her voice warm. “For being there for him, for being his friend. I can tell he’s lucky to have you in his life.”
She returned the smile, feeling a heaviness settle deep within her. Franco was lucky, that was true—but not in the way she’d once dreamed he might be. He had everything now: the career, the future, the love of a woman who deserved him in ways she never could.
And as the cars roared to life on the track, she stood there beside his girlfriend, feeling like a silent ghost on the edges of his new world. She would cheer for him, just as she always had, but now she knew exactly where she stood—at a distance, a quiet fixture in his past, cheering him on from the shadows as he sped toward a future that had no place for her.
The race had ended hours ago, and the hotel was hushed, the lights dimmed in the halls. She was alone in her room, her suitcase half-packed, clothes folded neatly on the bed. She’d changed her flight back to Argentina; she would be gone by morning.
The evening had been a whirlwind—Franco finishing in P12 on his debut race, his crew and his girlfriend embracing him, his face beaming in a way she’d only ever dreamed of seeing up close. She’d stood in the background, clapping politely, just another face in the crowd, happy for him but feeling her heart splinter with each cheer.
A quiet knock broke her thoughts. She looked up, heart catching in her throat. Franco was standing in the doorway, his face lit with a warm smile.
“Hey,” he said, stepping inside, his hands in his pockets. “I was hoping you’d still be up.”
“Yeah, just… packing,” she murmured, glancing at the clothes on her bed. “I’ve got an early flight back.”
He frowned, like he hadn’t expected her to be leaving so soon. “I thought you’d stay a bit longer,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “It meant a lot to me that you were here, you know. I’m not sure I could have done it without you.”
She swallowed, trying to muster up a smile. “I’m proud of you, Fran. Really. You deserve all of this.”
He gave a modest shrug, his usual humility shining through. “It’s crazy, right? Like, it still doesn’t feel real.”
She nodded, unsure of what to say next, her hands clenching as she watched him, the words fighting to break free. But before she could speak, he went on, his face lighting up with excitement.
“Oh—and I wanted to tell you. Over the summer break, I’m planning to bring my girlfriend—” he gestured to the wall, where his girlfriend was probably just sitting in their shared room—“back to Argentina. She’s going to meet my family. I think they’ll love her.”
The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She felt herself unraveling, her heart breaking open. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Why her?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Franco blinked, looking at her, startled. “What do you mean?”
“Why her, Franco?” She repeated, her voice trembling, louder this time. “Why not me? What is it about me that you don’t find appealing? Am I too loud? Too… different? Do I not fit into your world somehow?” Her voice cracked, the weight of her words finally spilling out. “What is it about me that you don’t love, that you love about her?”
For a moment, he just stared, taken aback, as if he was seeing her for the first time, really seeing her. But his eyes were filled with confusion, like he was trying to make sense of what she was saying.
“Wait—” he started, his voice halting, uncertain. “I… I didn’t know you felt—”
She cut him off, her voice fierce, raw. “I loved you first, Franco.”
He went silent, the words settling between them like stones in water, sinking deeper and deeper.
“What?” he whispered, his voice almost as quiet as hers had been.
“I loved you first,” she repeated, her voice shaking. She could feel the tears gathering, but she didn’t want to cry, not now, not here. “Since we were kids, since you were that crazy kid racing down dirt roads, I loved you. I’ve been there every step, every race, every victory, every failure. I was the one who held your dreams when they felt too heavy to carry. I loved you first.”
She watched him, waiting, hoping for some sign of understanding, some glimmer of the love she’d imagined so many times. But his eyes were wide with shock, his face torn between pity and discomfort.
He shook his head slowly, the words seeming to catch in his throat before he finally managed to say them. “But… I love her.”
The words were a knife, sharp and relentless, cutting through the last fragments of hope she’d held on to.
She let out a hollow, broken laugh, her vision blurring as she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you do.” She took a shaky breath, her voice trembling with a rawness she couldn’t contain. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of years pressing down between them. She could see the guilt etched into his expression, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something to make it better. But there was nothing he could say—nothing that could change the reality that he had chosen someone else, someone who wasn’t her.
“I never meant to… I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, reaching out as if to comfort her, but she stepped back, her arms wrapping around herself protectively.
“It’s fine,” she said, forcing the words out, feeling them scrape against her throat. “I… I just needed you to know. I needed you to know that I was here, that I’ve always been here. But now…” She trailed off, her voice breaking, the words she’d held for so long finally running dry.
She looked at him one last time, memorising the shape of his face, the boy she had loved and lost long before he ever realised. Then sat back down on the floor and continued packing, folding each piece of clothing and putting it away in silence, each one a silent goodbye.
When she noticed he still hadn’t left, that he was just watching him, she looked up at him. “I hope she makes you happy, Franco,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “Really. I hope she gives you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”
She looked back down not wanting to catch Franco’s look of pity and closed her suitcase as he walked out of her room.
Walking out of her life for what felt like forever.
It was the peak of summer, the air heavy with heat and the scents of wildflowers and sun-baked earth drifting through the open kitchen window. She was sitting at the table, picking absently at a bowl of sliced fruit, half-listening as her mother hummed while tidying up, when her mother paused and gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher.
“I almost forgot to mention,” her mother said, wiping her hands on a towel, “Franco’s coming back to town soon. Said he’ll be here next week with his girlfriend, so they can meet his family.”
She looked down, letting the words sink in, feeling a familiar tightness bloom in her chest. She hadn’t spoken to Franco in weeks. Not since that night in Monza. Not since she’d finally let herself say all the things she’d bottled up for years, only to walk away feeling like she’d left a part of herself behind.
“Oh,” she murmured, keeping her tone as light as she could. “That’s… that’s good. His parents will be thrilled to meet her.”
Her mother looked at her carefully, her gaze soft but probing, as if she could sense the ache that lingered beneath her daughter’s casual words. “I thought maybe you’d be excited too,” her mother ventured, her voice gentle. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him.”
She forced a small smile, looking down at her hands as she fiddled with her napkin. “Actually, I was thinking about going to Buenos Aires for a bit. Just a week or two with Tía Blanca. I’ve been meaning to go see her.”
Her mother tilted her head, her expression somewhere between sympathy and exasperation. “You can’t keep running from this, mi amor,” she said, her voice tender but firm.
Her shoulders tensed, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She knew her mother was right; every time she thought about seeing Franco, the old wound seemed to ache again, still raw, still fresh, no matter how many miles or weeks lay between them. But she wasn’t ready to face him yet. Not when the sight of him with someone else would only reopen everything she’d been trying so hard to let go of.
“I know I can’t keep running,” she said finally, her voice barely a whisper, her fingers twisting the napkin in her lap. “But I can now. And I can cope with that.”
Her mother sighed softly, reaching out to place a warm hand over hers. “Mi amor, one day, you’re going to have to stop protecting yourself from the things that hurt you. It’s the only way to truly move forward.”
She nodded, her throat tight, unable to meet her mother’s eyes. She knew her mother was right. But all she could think of was that moment in Monza, the echo of Franco’s words—But I love her. Words that still stung like salt on an open wound, even now.
“Maybe one day,” she whispered, more to herself than to her mother. But for now, Buenos Aires felt like the safest place to be—far from the memories, far from the impossible hope she still carried in her heart.
Her mother squeezed her hand gently before letting go, her silence filled with understanding. “Then go,” she said, with a small, knowing smile. “But you’ll know when it’s time to come home.”
And as she sat there, her heart heavy with everything she couldn’t say, she only hoped her mother was right.
A few days later, everything was sorted and she was ready to go to her aunt’s place.
She swung her bag over her shoulder, taking a deep breath as she stepped out of the house, the warm morning sun casting long shadows across the familiar dirt road. She was just two steps away from the car when she spotted it—Franco’s car, parked at the edge of the drive.
Her heart lurched, her mind scrambling, and she muttered under her breath, “No, no, no… please, not now.” She moved quickly toward her own car, fumbling for her keys as if speed alone could make her invisible. But before she could open the door, she heard his voice behind her.
“Oye, there you are!” he called, a wide, relieved smile on his face as he jogged over, his voice bright with the kind of joy she hadn’t heard from him in years. “I was hoping I’d run into you before you left. It’s been too long.”
She barely managed to keep her face neutral, clutching her bag as if it could shield her. “Yeah, well, I’ve got to get on the road. Don’t want to get stuck in traffic,” she said, opening the boot to toss her bag inside. She avoided looking at him, focusing on the small tasks—closing the boot, brushing off her hands, reaching for the door.
He took a step closer, his hand resting on the car door as if to keep her from leaving. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his tone softening. “You… you didn’t answer my calls after Monza. I didn’t know if… I just wanted to see you.”
She swallowed hard, glancing away as she forced herself to stay calm, the last words she wanted to hear sitting heavy between them. “That’s great, Franco,” she said, barely meeting his gaze, her words quick and mechanical. “But I really should get going.”
“Wait—” He looked at her, his expression slipping from surprise to concern. “Can we talk? Please?”
But she was already climbing into the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she turned the ignition. She couldn’t bear to stay, couldn’t bear to let him see her break again. “Take care, Franco,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she closed the door.
Before he could say another word, she pulled out, the tires kicking up dust as she drove away. In the rearview mirror, she saw him standing in the drive, watching her go, his face a mix of confusion and something close to sadness. She looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat as she focused on the road ahead.
But the further she drove, the harder it became to ignore the weight of all the memories tied to each familiar street and turn. Every signpost, every curve of the road reminded her of him—their childhood spent racing bikes and kicking up dust, lazy afternoons wandering these streets, dreaming of the future he was now living.
Tears blurred her vision as she drove, the memories rushing in like floodwaters, filling her mind with images she’d tried so hard to push aside: Franco at fourteen, laughing as he beat her in yet another race down the hill; Franco, younger still, sharing a quiet moment in the field just beyond town, his eyes bright with the dreams they’d both carried.
She wiped at her eyes, her heart aching as each memory pulled her further into the past, a past where they’d been inseparable, a past where she hadn’t yet realised what loving him truly meant. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his presence beside her, as if he were still the boy she’d known, before life had pulled them down different paths.
By the time she reached her aunt’s building in Buenos Aires, the weight of the drive had started to lift, the city’s pulse a welcome distraction from the quiet countryside. She parked and took a moment to gather herself, feeling the ache from earlier settle into something softer, something that no longer felt as urgent or raw.
Just as she opened the car door, a familiar voice called out.
“¡Mira! Is that really you?”
She looked up, startled, and felt her heart lift slightly. Standing by the curb was Angelo, an old friend from summers in the city. He had the same easy smile, his hair a little longer, his build a little broader, but his presence felt exactly as she remembered—warm and solid.
“Angelo!” She smiled, the weight on her shoulders easing just a little more.
He walked over, giving her a friendly hug before reaching into the car to help with her bag. “Let me help. You’re here for a visit?”
“Just two weeks,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she glanced up at the familiar apartment building, a place that held a lifetime of summers, laughter, and memories untouched by the pain she’d left behind.
“Well, then,” he said, grinning as he hefted her bag easily, “we’ve got time to catch up.” His tone was light, but there was something else in his eyes, a quiet warmth that made her feel unexpectedly hopeful.
She followed him up the steps, comforted by his familiarity and the steady, unhurried way he moved, like he knew every corner of this building as well as she did. As they reached her aunt’s door, she felt her pulse slow, steadied by his presence.
The door opened before they could knock, her aunt’s familiar face breaking into a radiant smile. “There you are, mi niña!” She hugged her tightly, then turned to Angelo with a knowing smile. “And look who brought you all the way to the door! Angelo, you’re a sweetheart.”
He grinned, shrugging. “Anything for your family, señora.”
They all laughed, and for the first time in months, she felt a genuine ease settle over her, as if she’d left more than just a town behind—she’d left the weight of everything she’d been carrying.
As she glanced between her aunt and Angelo, the ache that had gripped her chest all day faded. The streets of Buenos Aires were bright outside the door, warm and humming with life. She breathed it in, feeling herself begin to let go of everything that had haunted her on that long drive.
Because maybe now that she was here, she could forget Franco.
to be continued…?
#f1#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula one x reader#formula one#formula one x y/n#franco colapinto x yn#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto#fc43#fc43 x reader#fc43 x you#fc43 imagine#williams racing formula one#williams formula 1#williams f1#williams racing#williams#formula one x you#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#formula 1#ann speaks#ann talks#angsty#angst#franc colapinto angst
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Bratty (Shin Ryujin & Hwang Yeji x M!Reader)
Part 2 of Troublemaker (Both of these are smut!! Sorry!!!) Y/N is a brat and Ryujin degrades him (Again) to teach him a lesson Word Count: 2,617
As my eighth period class was about to end the professor suddenly made an announcement to the class.
"Before you all leave I wanted to let you all know that you have the option to work with a partner for this assignment."
When he said that I turned to Yeji.
"Hey, want to work on the assignment together?"
"Yeah sure, what's your phone number?"
After we exchanged phone numbers we went our separate ways. I didn't get far as I suddenly felt someone grab my arm and pull me into an empty classroom.
"What was that Y/N?"
"Ryujin? What are you doing?"
"Don't deflect, now tell me what I just saw."
"I was just getting Yeji's phone number."
"For what Y/N? Are you going over to her house?"
"Yes but only-"
Ryujin cut me off and lightly smacked my cheek. She glared at me with eyes that felt like they would pierce my soul.
"Don't go over to her house."
"Why?"
"Don't act dumb Y/N I know what you plan on doing. You're going to shove your face in between her thighs while your over at her house."
"What, No Ryujin I wont't!"
"Yeah sure, Look Y/N you can listen to me or not. But I warn you that if you disobey me you'll pay for it."
Ryujn left and I was alone in the empty classroom.
I felt excitement as I knew my plan was working.
I always wanted Ryujin to be more dominant and degrade me harder so I had started to ignore her and started to act less excited when having sex with her which I guess is why shes been more possessive over me. She might feel like she's doing something wrong which is probably why she thinks I might be looking for other people.
At Yeji's House
I knocked on the door and waited for a response.
After waiting for a few seconds Yeji opened the door for me.
"Hi Y/N are you ready to start working?"
"Sure am Yeji."
Yeji led me to her room and we started working on the assignment. I took this moment and took a photo of Yeji and sent it to Ryujin.
After a few seconds Ryujin sent me a message but I didn't answer her. Ryujin must've not liked me ignoring her messages as my phone started vibrating constantly but I didn't pay attention to it.
"Y/N is that your phone?"
"Yeah why?"
"I think someone's trying to reach you. It sounds important."
"Don't worry about it Yeji."
I went and put me phone on silent.
"Y/N seriously I think it's important. Why would someone message you so much if it wasn't?"
"No it was just a spam message."
"Oh really? Ugh I hate those."
I started wondering about my next move. But I decided upon something I knew would get Ryujin worked up.
"Hey Yeji I know this is a weird time but would you be my girlfriend?"
"Y/N ... where is this coming from?"
"You, your everything Yeji and I want to be able to have you by my side. So will you be mine?"
"Listen Y/N you're a sweet person now and I'll admit you're kinda cute but I can't just look past everything you've done in the past."
"Yeji I swear I've been working on myself. Please give me this one chance."
Yeji sighed and looked at me. I put my hand over hers and gave it a light squeeze.
"Okay fine Y/N I'll give us a shot."
I kissed Yeji and pulled her into a hug.
"Do you want to take a picture to celebrate us Yeji?"
"Yeah sure let's do it."
I took my phone out and took a picture. After I took it I made sure I sent it to Ryujin. She is so going to kill me but I can't wait for it.
"Let's go back to our work Y/N."
Next Day
As I was heading to my eighth period class I got another text from Ryujin.
Ryujin: "Come to my room NOW"
Ryujin: "You little brat stop ignoring me!"
Ryujin: "Y/N I swear you better not have shoved your face in between Yeji's thighs yesterday!"
I kept ignoring her texts and continued on my way.
When I got into eighth period I sat down but not for long as suddenly the principals voice came over the speakers.
"Y/N make your way to room 304."
"Y/N I thought you said you would work on bettering yourself." Yeji said with a disappointed tone.
"Oh no it's not that Yeji I swear, let me prove it, follow me when I leave and Ryujin will tell you."
I walked out of the classroom and waited. I overheard Yeji ask to use the restroom and she came out of the classroom shortly after.
"Glad you decided to follow me."
I led Yeji to Ryujin's room and we both went inside together.
When we walked in Ryujin started speaking and she sounded pissed off "Y/N you little-"
Ryujin looked shocked when she saw Yeji by my side. She probably only expected me to come.
Ryujin quickly cleared her throat "What brings you here with your friend Y/N?"
"Actually she's my girlfriend."
I could see Ryujin was struggling to keep her smile up "Well that's nice to know."
"So why did you call Y/N here anyways?" Yeji asked.
"I just wanted to tell him I was so proud of him. He hasn't been written up and his grades are improving at a rapid rate."
"Thank you Ryujin that means a lot coming from you." I smiled at Ryujin when I said that and I could tell she wanted to have her way with me.
"Come on Yeji let's go back."
After School
As I was walking home I got another text from Ryujin
Ryujin: "Come over to my house. I'll rehabilitate you and knock that bratty behavior out of you."
I knew I had Ryujin where I wanted her so I made my way over to her house. When I arrived I went ahead and knocked on the door. No one opened and I was about to knock again but then I got another text from Ryujin.
Ryujin:"It's unlocked, come upstairs to my room."
I opened the door and made my way to Ryujin's room.
"Hello?"
"Come in!"
When I opened the door Ryujin quickly shoved me into a wall.
"Y/N you better have a damn good explanation for yourself!"
I started giggling and tried to kiss her but Ryujin smacked me.
"I don't want your filthy mouth touching my perfect face. Now tell me what the fuck you've been doing. Was I just a sex toy for you? Do you think you can do better than me?!"
"Ryujin I just wanted you to degrade me more that's all. You're perfect I would never replace you for Yeji."
Ryujin started laughing and looked at me with eyes that I was too familiar with.
"So you want to play that game huh Y/N? Well I'll show you what happens to brats like you."
Ryujin stripped naked and shoved me to the bed.
"I thought you said you were only my slut but it turns out you lied to me. And you should know that I hate liars Y/N."
"W-wait! Ryujin what are you doing!"
Ryujin grabbed a rope she had lying on the floor. She started to tie my hands to the bed frame preventing me from moving.
"Okay Ryujin I get it I won't be a brat anymore!"
"Well that's no fun is it Y/N?"
Ryujin pulled my pants down and my erected cock sprung out. Ryujin spat on it and started to pump it.
"Y/N look at your filthy cock. It's so sad you get turned on so easily. You're nothing but a sad degenerate."
Ryujin put the tip of my cock inside her mouth. She put her tongue all over it and I felt myself about to cum. My cock was twitching inside her mouth but she pulled out before I could cum.
"No. no, no Ryujin please let me cum!"
"Pathetic, My personal slut is nothing but a sex addict. What if I just leave you like this Y/N? Leave you needy all day long. My parents don't come back until tomorrow afternoon so I have plenty of time to toy with my favorite boy toy."
Ryujin sat on me just barely away from my cock. She straddled me and I couldn't help but get even harder from having her weight on me. She startled to lift my shirt and drew patterns on my chest.
"What to do with you Y/N I have so many options. What will take the brat out of you?"
I saw a sparkly in her eyes. This couldn't be good.
Ryujin got off me and went grabbed my pants. She pulled my phone out and took pictures of me.
"No don't it's embarrassing!" But my plea went unheard.
Ryujin started texting someone and looked at me with a smile that felt deadly.
"No! I know who you just texted please delete that message before she sees it!"
"Shh relax boy toy. I promise you'll enjoy what happens next."
Ryujin grabbed her breasts and put my cock in between them. She started to rub them on my cock.
I started moaning. Her breasts were so soft and squishy I wanted to cum all over them.
"Oh you like these? They're just a pair of breasts Y/N they're nothing special. Are you that much of a loser that seeing a simple pair of breasts is enough to get you worked up?"
"Ryujin!"
I couldn't help but whine. Ryujin wasn't letting me cum I felt my balls aching and wanting releases but she kept denying me.
"Please Ryujin!"
"I don't know Y/N does a whore like you deserve it? Maybe if you beg for it I'll consider it."
"Ryujin Ryujin please let me cum! I promise I won't be a brat anymore!"
Ryujin laughed at me and licked the top of my cock.
"My my Y/N I didn't think you would go as low as to beg for it. You're acting like a kid begging his mom to buy him fast food."
"Mommy please!"
My face immediately turned red when I said that. Fuck I accidentally said that out loud now she's going to make fun of me for sure.
"Mommy? Am I your mother now Y/N? Do you want me to hold you lovingly and kiss you goodnight now?"
Ryujin rubbed circles on my thighs and I could do nothing but watch as she rejects my orgasm.
Suddenly I heard the door downstairs open.
"We're up here!" Ryujin yelled.
The footsteps got closer. I was worried Ryujin's parents came home early but then the person entered the room.
"Yeji?! It's not what it looks like!"
"Y/N what the fuck is going on!"
"Yeji isn't this beautiful. Look at Y/N pathetically tied to the bed. Want to show him what happens to brats?"
I looked at Yeji and saw that her eyes had changed.
I knew I only had a few moments before Yeji made up her mind "Ryujin that isn't necessary-" but I was too late.
"Yeah Ryujin I want to teach Y/N a lesson."
"Kiss me."
Yeji got on top of me and started to make out with Ryujin. It was horrible seeing them make out while my cock was still hard.
"Look at Y/N I bet he wishes his pathertic cock was in between our lips." Ryujin looked at me with a smirk as she said that.
Yeji started to suck on Ryujin's breasts eliciting moans from Ryujin. Some of Yeji's saliva fell onto the bed. She didn't stop there though she shoved three fingers inside of Ryujin without warning.
"Yeji damn it your so much better than Y/N's cock ever was!"
"Fuck you Ryujin you literally came all over my cock last time!"
"Did you hear something Ryujin?"
"No must've been the wind."
I was turned on by the sight of both of them making out but I wanted to cum. I was in a state of pain of feeling erected but I didn't have anyway to relieve it.
"Ryujin do you think we should let Y/N cum?"
"Ugh fine we can let our little toy cum."
Ryujin and Yeji got their hands off each other and turned to me. Yeji took off her clothes and let my cock enter her warm pussy while Ryujin sat on my face.
"Go on boy toy make us cum!" Ryujin ordered.
I started to lick Ryujin's pussy and quickly shoved my cock in and out of Yeji's. They both started to make out during this and their saliva was starting to drip onto me.
"Y/N you bastard. How dare you cheat on me with Ryujin. We haven't even been together for a whole week. But you can make up for it if you make me cum hard."
"Yeji I only did it to rile Ryujin up."
"So I was nothing but a tool for you Y/N? I'm going to make you cum so much until you don't have any cum left asshole."
-
The torture had gone on for hours at this point. I couldn't stop my cock from getting hard but I was extremely exhausted. I came so much yet somehow Yeji and Ryujin weren't getting slower.
"Y/N get your filthy cock hard again. You aren't done until I say so!"
"Please Yeji stop I can't take it!"
"Should have thought of that before you used her." Ryujin responded.
I licked Ryujin's pussy so much my tongue started to hurt. Eventually she finally came all over my face again.
"I'm done here Yeji you can take Y/N from here." Ryujin laid down next to me pulling me close. I felt her warm sweaty body press up against me and it turned me on again.
"So your cock does still have some life in it."
"Yeji please no more."
"One more Y/N or should I beat the living shit out of you for cheating on me?"
I groaned and continued to thrust into Yeji. My body felt like it was on fire and I was sweating profusely.
"Ah! Yes Y/N show me how much you love me!"
"Yeji my cock is so sore!"
After a few more thrusts we both came at the same time. Yeji collapsed on me afterwards.
"Yeji I'm sorry I used you."
"It's fine Y/N but you better continue to fuck me like this."
"I don't think I have any cum left in me Yeji you drained everything."
Yeji kissed me softly and we both fell asleep.
-
The next morning we all woke up and out nostrils were filled with the smell of sex.
"It smells like 20 people had sex in here." Ryujin exclaimed, still groggy after she woke up.
"Come on Y/N help me clean up the place loser."
"Why me? Yeji also had sex with us!"
"Well you're the one who used her. So the least you can do is clean up her mess."
I had no choice. I got up and started to help Ryujin with the cleaning.
"You know Y/N I can't let this slide. No sex for 2 weeks."
"What!?
"You said you'd change your behavior and yet you went right back to using people for your own gain."
Ryujin gave me a smug look and I couldn't do anything but continue cleaning her room.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you're wondering why it took so long to make part 2 it's because I had to rewrite this story 3 times. I'm so tired
Y/N gets degraded even more cause it's the only thing he deserves. I am never writing Y/N as dom.
#itzy#ryujin#shin ryujin#itzy smut#kpop smut#smut#girl group smut#itzy x reader#ryujin smut#kpop gg#yeji#yeji smut#threes0me
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indebted
dark!joel x f!reader. one shot.
summary: you're having a bad day. one you think is getting better once a rough around the edges man comes to your rescue. you didn't expect it would takes such a sharp turn for the worse. first person pov reader. 9.2k words.
warnings: 18+ MDNI! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! NON CONSENUAL SEXUAL ACTS, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, pervy, sleazy, and foul mouthed joel. degradation, sexual favors, forced oral and piv, virgin reader, corruption, innocence, and daddy kinks featured. biiig ol' age gap (reader's age not mentioned other than "young" but i imagine her as 18-20 as she has a relatively immature attitude, imagining joel 50-55), this is not for everyone and that's okay. i'm not responsible for the content you consume.
a/n: i had some hormonal induced insanity and came up with this. i had a great time trying out a new pov for writing fic! enjoy him as much as i did, friends 🖤 and thanks @joelstummy for the amazing freaky beta work!
I’ll be the first person to admit now that what I’ve been doing is stupid. Dangerous. Idiotic. The list goes on. I can hear my father’s stern, militant voice in the back of my head, telling me as much. Except now he likely won’t get the chance to relish in it because I’m going to die here. Way out here where nobody will find my body, and I’ll be just another person that went missing in the QZ, never to be seen again. But this time, it’s not some sleazy FEDRA scheme and coverup or a smuggling deal gone wrong.
It’s utterly and completely my fault.
Sneaking out wasn’t meant to become a habit, but after the first few times, I lost the fear and adrenaline that had burned hot through my veins at those first steps of freedom. I craved it again, so I kept going further. And further. Away from civilization as I knew it, until the cluster of buildings known as the Quarantine Zone became a tiny speck in the distance. Out here was desolation, nothingness, only abandoned buildings to explore. The infected were another story, but I started to learn routes that helped me avoid encounters with them.
It helped clear my mind after a while, this newly found sense of adventure. All I’d ever known was a cage, a walled city that had become so mundane I felt my insides starting to rot from the listlessness of it all. My father was important - top in the rankings - I knew that, and it was all the more reason to keep me safely locked away while the city stirred with chatter of an uprising against FEDRA.
He never bothered to check on me much, anyways, making my little forays quite easy. Once I’d persuaded enough people with ration cards, they’d shown me the tunnel leading to freedom. Well, that tunnel, then another, a ladder to climb back up to the surface, and only then could I go through a precarious hole in a chain link fence. That was the smuggler’s route, they said, an easy ticket to getting in and out without being noticed.
I’d been abusing it, staying out for days at a time, never able to drink in enough of this quiet solitude that was of my own choosing, not my father’s. I couldn’t quite figure out what hole inside of me I was trying to fill, but I’d be damned if I stopped trying.
However, today seemed to be my last chance to try at all. His footsteps had been quiet - so quiet - approaching behind me. An old store, full of half decayed plushies, molded candies, and other adorable things from lives long put in the past, had called to me, distracted me. The arm around my throat, constricting, the other coming up to put a hand over my mouth. A dirty, putrid smell encompassing everything as I sputtered against him. This is it, I’d thought. What a waste.
I scream and fight against the strong hold he has on me, a nasty sneer right against my skin. “What’s some fresh meat like you doing waaaay out here, huh?” a dark voice rattles into my ear.
I scream behind his dirty palm in response, kicking my legs back at him. I should have learned more self defense, but who needs it when you’ve spent most of your life safely tucked away with your family name as your biggest protector?
“You smell good… real good…” The creep’s voice buzzes by me as he takes a deep breath in, making me shudder. One swift kick and I’m sure this is it, the one to knock him senseless and let me escape. He’s smart for how distracted he seems to be by my scent, and he’s one step ahead of me. My legs are kicked out from underneath me as I rear one back, and I fall to the ground, the man coming down with me to sit on my back, straddling my body in a fluid motion. He grips my hands behind my back, leaving me helpless in my fight, kicking and screaming. I’m ice and heat all at once, my body burning in a frozen blaze, my fight or flight quickly turning to fawn as his weight presses down on me.
“You can have anything in my backpack, anything! Please, let me go! I - I don’t want any trouble,” I choke out pathetically, hating how my voice comes out in shaky waves. This isn’t how to appeal to people like this, people who have lost their sense of humanity, evident by the way he’s now grinding himself down onto my jean clad asscheeks.
A laugh comes out of him that would haunt me as evil incarnate for the rest of my days if I wasn’t so sure that I was going to die at the hands of this man after he was done with me. “We both know I don’t give a fuck about any damn backpack of yours. I don’t want any trouble either, sweet cheeks, I just think you’d have a lot of fun with me and my friends. But mostly me,” he replies with the hint of a wink in his voice.
My stomach clenches, sickness rolling in that is only furthered as the man leans down, cloaking me with his large form. I can’t turn enough to see him, to even know what this violation of a man looks like, but his energy is beyond hideous as I catch a glimpse of his yellowing teeth in a grin before he pushes my head down to the cracked linoleum tiles. My hair tangled in his fingers, he holds me down hard, and I struggle to breathe as he crushes me beneath him.
“Now, are you gonna come easily, or do I need to do things the hard way? Either way is fine with me, for a fine piece of ass like this. In fact, I might prefer it the hard way, but we’d hate to ruin this pretty skin of yours, wouldn’t we?” He says slowly, pressing the cold blade of a knife to my throat.
“O-okay, okay,” I acquiesce, stopping my squirming, just needing a bit of room to breathe, my lungs heavy inside my chest. My panic only makes my chest tighter, even when the man leans back the tiniest bit. I had hoped that my sudden compliance would get that knife off my throat, but it hasn’t. “Just don’t hurt me… please…” I whimper.
He lets out a long, ragged sigh. “Afraid I can’t promise that.”
I’ve never felt fear like this, such certainty that I was about to be ruined, my life as I know it changing without a chance to even look back. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for it, for anything he’s about to do next, finally accepting that there isn’t any appealing to scummy men in a scummy world. But nothing comes except for a muffled crack ringing through the air, and then a thud as the entire weight of my adversary falls on top of me, crushing. Something warm has splattered on my skin, my face, then starts to coat my jacket, seeping through. I shake violently, begging my body to catch a full breath under the weight of him.
Then as suddenly as it happened, it stops, the body yanked off of me and tossed to the side with ease. The deafening thud of his entire weight onto the ground is stark. I flip over and scramble backwards, grabbing the knife that had fallen from the man’s hand in his swift, final moment. Holding up a shaky hand, I grip the knife tightly, looking up to face a brutish, tall man with overgrown hair of chestnut and gray. A trim beard with the same coloring wraps around his tightly set jaw. He’s all wide shoulders, thick arms, broad chest, and my senses go on high alert again. His gun is practically still smoking as it hangs at his side, an active threat.
“Y’alright?” he drawls, thick and deep, echoing through the abandoned shop. One step closer to me has the knife practically flailing as I struggle to calm my hands, a strained hum alongside my shaky breathing the only sound I seem capable of making.
“Put that thing down,” he says calmly, almost exasperated. His stance slackens, one knee pushed out as he sizes me up. I’m likely the most miserable looking thing he’s seen in a while, I’m sure. “You’re harmless.”
“H-how do I know you’re not with him?” I blurt out.
My gruff savior lifts his brows incredulously. “That guy?” he asks, motioning impatiently to the dead body only a foot away. “Think I’d be puttin’ a bullet right in his skull if he was my best buddy?”
My eyes dance over him as I think. He has a point, and he did just save me from whatever debauched things that stranger’s mind had been conjuring up.
“Y-yeah, you have a point,” I finally say. He steps closer, and this time, I let him, putting the knife down. He motions with an authoritarian air for me to push it away, and I obey immediately, flinging it across the room.
“Poor fucker died with a hard on, didn’t he?” The man muses as his boots thud on the way over to the body, kicking it slightly as if to check, letting it roll back before turning his attention on me. “Now, are you usually this stupid, comin’ into hunter territory, or what?” he asks, reaching a hand down to me, presumably to help me up.
“I didn’t know…” I mumble, letting his hand hang there. He doesn’t snatch it back right away, although I can tell he wants to, that he’s already beyond exasperated by his day and the last thing he’d wanted was a damsel in distress like me. I hate that he’s proving all the things I’d been trying to disprove about myself by coming out on these solo trips into the great, big outside. I’m weak. Dependent. Needy. It makes my skin crawl with self loathing and frustration.
“Didn’t know, huh? So just clueless, then?” the man spits out, staring down at me with darkened eyes that make me turn my head away in shame. At my sullen silence, he seems to soften a little. “I’m Joel,” he says, an offering to go along with his outstretched hand.
I sigh, taking it and telling him my own name. I’m up on my feet, dusting myself off and looking at him shyly now. I don’t know what people are supposed to say when someone saves their life, so I just mumble, “Thank you.”
Joel snorts, nodding in acknowledgment as he crouches to pat down the body, seeming to come up short of anything interesting. “Don’t thank me yet,” he says, standing back to his full, towering height, glancing around with sharp eyes. “We should move.”
I might be as stupid as he says, because I wordlessly start to follow him towards the door. His hand stretches out behind him, open and inviting me in as he checks outside the door with a careful peek, his gun held tightly in the other. I stare down at it in disbelief. “C’mon, I don’t bite,” he sighs, that perpetual vexation in his tone again as he twitches his brows at me. “Need you close by. An’ it seems you have a tendency to go where you shouldn’t.”
My cheeks grow hot at the harsh truth of it, and I grasp his hand without any further objections, marveling for a moment at the way it envelops mine. All calloused and hard, mine soft and unused for labor of any kind.
“I’ve got a safehouse not too far from here.”
“A safehouse?”
“It’s already gettin’ dark. There ain’t no way we’re making it back to the QZ today, princess,” he retorts quickly, the pet name mocking on his tongue.
“How’d you know?” I ask softly, disappointment pressing in on my shoulders.
He chuckles out more of a snort, pulling me around a bend, slowly leaving behind the dangerous territory that I’d unknowingly encroached on. “You’re a FEDRA princess if I’ve ever seen one,” he tells me, and my heart sinks that I was so easy to read. I’d seen how capable this man Joel was, but damn was he was astute, more than I’d given him credit for.
I chew at my lip. “Fair enough,” I mumble under my breath, letting him take his well earned win. The longer I hang onto Joel’s hand, letting him expertly weave me through the barren streets, the safer I start to feel. He knows where he’s going, a practiced route he’s taken countless times, and it hits me then that this man is a smuggler. He has to be.
“Are you a smuggler?” I ask pointedly. “I’ve heard that people like that come in and out of the QZ.”
Joel falters for just a brief second, giving me a wily grin. “Look who’s readin’ who now,” he says with a dry chuckle. “Ain’t gonna run and tell your daddy, are you?”
I shake my head, pressing my lips together in a smile. “I can keep a secret.” In fact, I like keeping secrets from my father, hence the sneaking out, so Joel can count on me to never rat him out.
His amused grin in response lights a little flame akin to friendship inside of me. This grumpy old bastard could smile after all. “Just through here,” he says, letting the smile drop, taking a sharp left down a street just as a sprinkle of rain starts to fall on us. It’s a less urban area - more like a neighborhood - sprouted with apartment buildings and abandoned, vine covered cars. It’s my favorite thing about all the exploration I’ve been doing, seeing the way nature can reclaim anything and make it her own.
The cracked street below us makes me tread carefully, lagging behind as Joel’s hand tugs me along urgently. We turn down an alley, Joel whipping his head left to right before dragging me behind him, finally dropping my hand to open a door that leads right into a tiny lobby and a stairwell. He runs a hand through his damp hair, slicking it back some - a rather handsome look for him, now that I’m thinking about it. I try to ignore that thought as his voice booms through the empty room.
“Up,” he commands, gripping my hand again and leading us up the stairs.
My stomach sinks a little when he takes out a key, unlocking a padlock on one of the apartments numbered 405 and pushing the old, chipped door inwards. I have no reason not to trust Joel, he saved my life afterall, but I can’t shake the nerves I feel from being in an unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar man. It’s quiet here, likely nobody in the vicinity but the two of us.
“Home sweet home,” he grunts out, dropping his backpack and gun holster near the door and shrugging off his damp jacket, leaving him in a plain tee shirt that hugs his muscular frame. It’s a small, cramped apartment with a living room and kitchen directly next to it, a little window cut into the wall, peering in on the living room from above the stove. It looks as if it’s left exactly as it was years ago, full of furniture and clutter, only a vessel for Joel to use without making it his own at all. I peer past to see a small hallway I can only assume leads to a bedroom and bathroom.
“Know it ain’t the palace you’re probably used to, but we’ll be safe an’ dry here,” he say, and I roll my eyes behind his back. If Joel thinks that I live in a palace, he’s clearly misunderstood the state that the QZ is in. My father’s house is spacious, sure, but it’s just as dilapidated as the rest of the city. The only difference is the level of protection afforded to our homes.
He ambles into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets with a clatter, then comes back moments later with an open can of beans and two forks. I’m still standing in the entryway, unsure of what to do with myself.
“Hungry?” he asks gruffly, and I shake my head, wide eyed. I’d lost my appetite the minute that man had grabbed me earlier, and I couldn’t seem to get it back. Joel shrugs, digging in with a messy forkful of from the can. “Your funeral,” he says, chewing.
Joel sinks down onto the couch with a tiny groan, setting down the can on the side table next to his armrest, giving the other cushion an expectant look. “Well, you gonna sit your ass on down an’ tell me why the hell I had to save it today, or what? Why the hell you’re wanderin’ around like it’s a free for all out there?”
I flinch slightly at his harsh tone, but gingerly step my way into the room, unzipping my jacket and shedding it. For the chill outside, the temperature inside the apartment is more comfortable than I’d expect, my skin welcoming the change. Joel eyes my thin tee shirt, and I feel a flash of heat sweep my skin before I feel the prickle of goosebumps, knowing my nipples are poking through the fabric. His eyes catch there before he promptly averts them.
I sit precariously next to Joel on the loveseat, pressed as far away as I can from him, not wanting to cramp his personal space. But he seems to have no problem with that anyways, his legs spread wide open in a comfortable stance, leaned back against the cushions. He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut for a moment as he awaits my answer.
“I was… exploring,” I say simply, cringing at how ridiculous it sounds coming out of my mouth. Who leaves perfect safety to wander around in a dangerous world on purpose? For no other reason than curiosity and a sudden, rebellious sense of defiance?
His eyes snap open, head pulling up from the couch, turning my way. “Explorin’…” He mulls on the word, slowly licking his lips before pursing them. “You’re tellin’ me I had to save a FEDRA brat today ‘cause she was explorin’? You really are stupid. ‘Course you are, look how young y’are. Look how fuckin’... sheltered.” Joel throws his hands up, landing them on his thighs with a soft thud, sighing. “Can’t even blame ya.”
I pluck up every bit of courage I have, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. “Look, it was really nice of you to save me and everything, and I do thank you for it. I’m sorry if I messed up whatever… smuggling stuff you had going on today, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me… stupid.” The last word is quiet, mousy, and I turn my head down, eyes shining with unshed tears that I silently curse myself for. My father’s voice rings through my head - you stupid girl! - making me shudder.
Joel sucks at his teeth. “Hit a nerve, I see,” he says passively. “Alright, I’m sorry kiddo. I just mean, you’re puttin’ yourself at risk doin’ what you’re doin’, and it ain’t a smart idea. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I sigh out, relaxing a little. “I just needed to get away.”
“From your dear old daddy?” he teases, picking up the can, shoveling several more bites into his mouth. I go silent, picking at a thread on the couch rather than answer him. “Ah, another nerve, I see. Daddy issues. Could’ve guessed that one.”
“I don’t have -”
“Sweetheart…” Joel interrupts, looking at me from under his brows, pulling his lip between his teeth, seeming to look at me in a fresh light. It sends my skin tingling, the way he eyes me, a glint in his stare. It seems to prove his point, the way a pet name from a middle aged man seems to immobilize me against my will. I want to slap the smug look off his face, but I have no grounds to do so, only grumbling quietly with my cheeks blazing in embarrassment. A prickle of something else works its way deep into my belly, something warm at how his scrutinizing eyes flick over my body, the lines in his face set, showing his age, his experience.
“Take a piece of advice from a man probably as old as your daddy, then. Trust me when I say that outside those walls ain’t the place to find what you’re lookin’ for. The sooner you let go of that notion, the better off you’ll be.”
Frustration blooms hot in my chest, overpowering whatever the hell that sudden, unwanted feeling was. I’m tired of people dictating what I can and can’t do, what I’m capable of. “People do it all the time - smugglers - you would know,” I retort. “I’ve been doing it for months. Never had a problem until today. It was just some bad luck.”
“Bad luck? Really? You’d be that man’s newest little cock sleeve if it weren’t for me savin’ your ass,” Joel growls, standing up off the couch. I wince at his vulgar language, the picture it paints in my mind of what life might have been like if Joel hadn’t happened to be in the right place at the right time.
“I - I know - I’m sorry,” I blurt out, feeling my hands start to go shaky. “Thank you, Joel, I really - I really do owe you. Everything.”
“Like I said, don’t thank me yet.” He steps over so that he’s in front of me, using his boot to part my legs, scooting them apart and standing between them. “Think I did all this out of the kindness of my heart, did you? Didn’t think that maybe I was after the same damn thing as buddy boy earlier?”
I’m like a fish out of water, the way my lips move with no sound coming out. “Joel…” I breathe out in warning, in questioning. I see his arms strain in his t-shirt, hands flexing open and closed.
“I can’t say the thought ain’t crossin’ my mind now. You are mighty pretty. And you do owe me a favor. One big ol’ gigantic favor, for savin’ your backside.” He brushes his fingers along his jeans, palming his crotch for a brief second before leaning forward, caging me in on the couch with hands on either side of me, pressing into the cushions. My heart hammers in my chest so loud I expect Joel can hear it, can feel the fear taking hold of me. He bares his teeth above me like a wild animal, and now I’m certain he can smell my fear too, that he thrives on it.
“You know what? Maybe you were bound to find what you were lookin’ for outside those walls. Maybe that’s what you needed, is it? Couldn’t find any love from daddy back home, so you wanted to find someone to turn you into their own personal little play thing. Poor baby just needed some attention, did she? Sad, really.”
My hands tremble, my words lost as I can only breathe in shaky little breaths, shaking my head violently. How can this god forsaken day keep getting worse?
“Please -” I mumble out, bringing a jittery hand up to my mouth. Joel slaps it away, gripping my chin harshly at first, inspecting me before his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. I’d think it was gentle, caring, even, if not for the nasty look spreading across his face, the grin that darkens it along with his eyes.
“Time to put this pretty thing to better use and show how grateful you are to ol’ daddy Joel,” he says, using his free hand to deftly unbuckle his belt, the jangling sound like a death knell, making my throat go dry. “Promise I’ll be much better than he would’ve been earlier. People say I’m… a generous lover.” His drawl is slow and calculated, voice deep with lust, the sly smirk turning to a triumphant grin as he chuckles, amusing himself.
He grips the top of my head, pushing me to slide down the couch cushions into a slump as I struggle, powerless against a man of his strength. He positions himself higher up to bring the giant denim bulge right in my view. I wince, trying to turn my head away as his zipper comes undone, his hand grasping deep into the fly of his jeans, yanking his cock out. When it springs free, I gasp as he lets it slap me in the face. Hot, throbbing, and massive, leaking a shiny bead of precum that had ended up somewhere on my cheek. I sit stunned and held in place by his rough hand.
The cold hard fact hits me that this is the first time I’m ever going to experience intimacy of any kind. Hell, I’ve only had one kiss before, and it was when I was ten years old, with a boy belonging to one of my father’s friends, a name I can’t even remember now. The first penis I’m ever seeing is right here, right now, in a context I have had zero control over. It’s thicker than I’d imagined one could be, softer too as I look at the skin of it. Veins run along the sides and bottom, all leading up to an imposing, angry pink head at the tip, practically bursting as it awaits me. It’s magnificent and terrifying at the same time, nothing like what I’d expected based on the half-assed health classes provided by schooling in the QZ. Sex has always had a shroud of mystery for me, and I never imagined that all those secrets, long awaited, would be uncovered like this. A dingy bedroom, a man likely almost three times my age, and me as an unwilling participant. Desperation swiftly grips my chest as I realize I actually have no clue what goes on behind closed doors between two people, and I have a feeling I’m about to find out in the crudest of ways.
The fearful innocence I know is about to be stolen from me causes tears to sting at my eyes, fat little droplets that instantly start to roll down my cheeks, leaking onto Joel’s large fingers still gripped around my chin. I start to struggle, my body seeming to catch up with my mind, loud warning sirens of DANGER! DANGER! finally blaring out in a panic. When I squirm, Joel plants one of his knees into my body, keeping himself balanced while still being able to hold me down.
“Don’t cry now, honey, it’ll only make him harder.” He sneers as he strokes his cock, slapping the head against my closed lips a few times. He wrenches my jaw down, forcing it open. “Nice ‘n wide for this big boy, there we go,” he says, not waiting a moment longer to barge his cock past the opening while he has it.
He groans loudly as he shoves several inches in right from the get go, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. The hand that had been holding my jaw presses in on my shoulder, holding me in place. I’d have nowhere to go, anyways, with his knee on my thighs, his entire body caging me in, the cushions giving me no leeway to the way his cock is forcefully intruding, inch by inch down my throat. The taste is all consuming - a little salty, a little ripe, tasting like days of Joel’s old sweat, but it’s not completely bad, not what I’d have expected. It’s heady in a strange way, clouding my mind as I try to cope with the fullness in my mouth.
The next moment I sputter, my eyes popping open wide, flooded with tears as he hits the back of my throat. I try to gasp for air and I find that I can’t. This is torture of some form, it must be. Full panic follows, where I try to move, but every avenue is pinned down in some way by Joel’s massive body. I weakly flap at him with my hands but it barely even deters him from rocking his hips in and out, choking me again on the thrust inwards as the back of my throat tightens, gagging around his thick girth.
“Open up, relax your goddamn throat,” Joel hisses at me, keeping his cock pressed fully to the back of my throat, constricting any airflow I was hoping to have. I finally breathe shakily out of my nose when he pulls back just enough, only to slide it in slowly, his eyes carefully watching me. I glance up for the first time at him from below, hoping to find any shred of humanity he might have for me, but I’m met with an icy, dark gaze clouded with lust, power.
“Gonna fuck your face now, like the dumb little slut you are. This is what stupid girls get for wanderin’ around by themselves. This is what they ask for.” He punctuates the last words with a sharp thrust inwards, my entire body convulsing with the gag I sputter out around him, drool pooling around my stretched lips. I would whimper if I could, if I even had the air to do so.
Joel is relentless for the next few moments, rapid thrusts in and out of my mouth, my head held conveniently in place against the couch cushions for him. He groans deeply, his pleasure evident while I’m just trying to get my next breath in. I time them expertly, learning as I go, letting him continue to take from me to gain his own pleasure.
“That’s it, that’s right, you’re turnin’ into quite the good girl,” Joel mutters above me, rolling his hips with vigor and making me gag again. I can feel drool dribbling down my chin, my neck, landing on my chest, and it makes me feel ashamed, embarrassed, and a twinge of something else. I can’t tell as Joel grunts, pumping himself in and out of my gruesomely contorted jaw, if the fact that it’s something even remotely sexual has me feeling things I shouldn’t. My cheeks burn hot as my eyes continue to water - how much of it is crying and how much of it is just my body’s response to him hitting the back of my throat, I don’t know.
Then he surprises me by slowing down, languid strokes of his cock in and out with sloppy sounds, a soft hand landing on my head, stroking before bundling my hair in his fist tightly. “Knew you’d have such a filthy little mouth for daddy,” he coos, rolling his hips forward a little further, touching the back of my throat with his cock.
My body spasms a little when he keeps pushing, grumbling quiet groans of approval. My eyes squeeze shut, leaking out an onslaught of tears. I don’t want to see the aftermath if it ends up that it’s one gag too many and the inevitable happens. But to my surprise, he keeps slipping down, intruding on my throat. I try to keep my trembling body still, wanting to keep my throat relaxed, terrified of what might happen if I fight this. Can a person die this way? Could I really choke to death on this man’s dick?
“Jesus fuck. Lord have fuckin’ mercy…” Joel breathes out as he pushes even further. “Swallowin’ him down, aren’t ya? Feel me right in here, I bet.” I flinch when he touches his hand to the column of my throat, wrapping his fingers softly around the flesh. When he starts to retreat, the choking is back in a second, but Joel holds me by the throat, keeping my neck craned back, returning to the brutal way he’d been abusing my mouth. I groan and sputter and try to cough through all of it, my mouth stuffed full over and over again before I can get a breath in.
He’s relentless, and then it stops all at once, his cock popping out from between my lips with a wet, lewd sound. A stream of drool follows, a gush that dribbles down onto my already soaked shirt, and I cough violently, my hands flailing to clutch at my chest.
As soon as the pressure of Joel’s body lifts off of me, I’m scrambling to somewhere, anywhere else, my limbs stiff and achy, my jaw panging with a soreness I’ve never felt before. He stands in front of me, one hand shooting out to grab the collar of my shirt before I can even get fully off the couch, pulling me close.
“Does it look like you’re done showin’ your gratitude yet?” he growls out, gripping the back of my head and forcing me to look down at his cock, still standing at full attention, shiny and dripping with saliva. I swallow hard, the lump painful on the way down. Joel shakes my head for me, the burn at my scalp making me wince. He presses his hips flush with mine, forcing his erection against my thigh before slipping it between them. He leans in close, hot breath ghosting over my face before his lips brush mine.
“You do make a pretty cocksleeve, y’know. Suckin’ cock like a cheap whore, wonder if you take it the same way in your cunt.”
I whimper, shaking my head, the tears non-stop as they roll down my cheeks. “Please… don’t. You don’t have to do this…”
Joel scoffs. “If I put my hand down your pants to that pretty little snatch, tell me I wouldn’t find you wet right now.” He punctuates the words with a sharp pull on my scalp. I cry out, lip quivering, trying to shake my head. “Don’t lie t’me after I’ve been so, so generous t’you today.”
I’m spinning around, a dizzying sensation, Joel’s strong bicep brought across my chest as his other hand delves below my waistline, plunging deep, right to my cotton panties, bypassing the waistband of those, too. Without care, without any sense of boundaries, his fingers explore, slipping through my sensitive slit with ease. I yelp, squirming at the intrusion, and Joel’s deep chuckle behind me confirms what I already knew, what I was beyond confused by.
“Thought so,” he says gruffly, then he cups my entire mound, giving an almost comforting sensation, holding his hand tightly pressed to it. “Nothin’ to be upset about, we’re just havin’ a little fun, payin’ off your debt to dear ol’ Joel, okay?”
I shake my head. “I - I shouldn't be here… it shouldn’t be like this,” I whisper in a cracking voice, hanging my head low as the tears just keep coming, damn them.
Joel’s fingers start to move slowly, just starting with one, stroking gently up my lips, spreading my slickness around. I’m surprised that it feels good, a pleasant little tingle zipping right to my core that I quickly lament, hating myself for it. “What shouldn’t be like this, hm? That you shouldn’t like my cock down your throat? It’s perfectly natural, doll,” he says, somehow soft and condescending in the same breath.
“A-all of this,” I whimper, “Please, j-just let me go. I w-won’t say anything, I won’t do anything. I just…”
Joel quietly shushes me, letting his finger do the talking for a moment. It drags up to my clit, rubbing tiny, enticing little circles. I bite my lip hard, enough to taste copper, trying to suppress the moan climbing its way up from my chest.
“It’s okay, it’s okay that it feels good. It’s ‘sposed to. Good little sluts like you don’t know any better, don’t care what it is that’s gettin’ their panties wet. Desperate,” he growls, fingers sliding through the slick mess that’s now drooling onto the cotton. “Just relax, let it happen…” I feel his breath, hot on my ear, before he nibbles, biting down hard on the earlobe, tugging it with his teeth. It bursts out, the whimpering moan I’d been holding back, just as he pinches my clit at the same time as the bite.
He laughs. He has the nerve to laugh and it sends a shiver down my spine, my brain muddled and confused and turned on by the eroticism at play here. He soothes me by nuzzling my neck, taking a long, deep breath in. I squirm as Joel’s hand retreats, and I wonder for just a moment, a brief, all consuming moment, if maybe he’s seen reason. When his fingers find the buttons of my jeans, my heart plummets to depths previously unknown as he unbuttons them, pulling the zipper down slowly, the only sound in the room his harsh breathing right on my neck.
“Please, I gave you what you want already,” I beg once more, feeling it fall on deaf ears as Joel tugs my jeans down, revealing my pink cotton panties. They’re my favorite pair - were my favorite pair - a rare find in a world like this. Pretty pale pink with a nice lacy trim and a little bow at the front. Only now, they’d belong to Joel.
Joel clicks his tongue in approval of the sight, pulling his head back to peer at my underwear from the back before his hand grips my ass, jiggling it roughly. “Oh, you’re jus’not getting it, are you? You feel this?” he asks angrily, letting me feel the hard length of his cock pressed to my ass cheeks, threatening to slip between my thighs. “This means you didn’t give me nearly half of what I want yet. He’s still achin’ for ya, princess.”
I grit my teeth, hating the pet name, the way he’s using who I am to mock me. It’s a low blow. I hated everything to do with being associated with my father - I knew he wasn’t a good man - and I hated most that it was so obvious to a stranger which echelon of society I belonged to. If I was so important, where were they now, huh? I want to scream those words at him, but instead I just feel my legs tremble underneath me, my knees feeling like jelly as they almost give out on me.
“Please!” I struggle against his hold, but it only makes him grip my ass tighter, hard enough to bruise. “I-I’m a virgin,” I suddenly squeak out, unsure of why I say it other than some last ditch effort to deter him. My heart pounds as he stills, dead silent with his hand grasping my ass like it’s his next meal, like he owns it.
“Well ain’t it my lucky day. Shit, that’s why you were sputterin’ all over my damn cock, ain’t it?” he says as the epiphany dawns on him, laughing. My cheeks blaze hotter and hotter, hating that I’m even embarrassed at my lack of experience and skills, like I have some sick need to impress him. He notices my tension, my head hanging low as I cry new tears, and says, “Hey, hey, nothin’ to be ashamed for. In fact…” His hand fists in my underwear, tight and unrelenting. I feel his cock press against my ass again, harder than ever before it slips between my thighs. “Makes me awful excited,” he purrs, bringing his mouth to my ear again.
I only give him a timid whimper in reply, squeezing my eyes shut as I realize there is nothing I can do to stop this man. He thinks I’m a cheap whore, and he loves it. I’m a pure virgin, and he loves it even more.
He squeezes me tighter to his chest, my back starting to sweat through my thin tee shirt. “The hell were you savin’ yourself for anyways? Marriage? A sweet pussy like this?” At my silence, he cups my pussy hard, letting the dampness of my underwear soak into his palm. “Answer me!” he barks out.
“I - I wasn’t! I don’t know!” I cry out, trembling.
“Well,” he says, fisting my panties again, starting to pull them down. “M’honored you’d let me be your first, sweetheart,” he drawls, and I nearly scream at the insinuation. I’m not letting him do anything.
I start to put up more of a fight, useless against his thick arms holding me so tightly. Cool air touches my ass and the space between my thighs as he manages to shimmy my panties further down even in my struggle. I clamp my legs shut in defiance, roaring out a strained grunt as I keep trying to squirm out of his grasp. He huffs in anger, trying to subdue my writhing body before he pushes it towards the couch. I land hard, banging my knee on the hard edge that supports the cushion, wincing and trying to catch my breath. I’m practically in position for him already, ass pressed out towards him, on my hands and knees.
“Gonna make me do things the hard way, are you?” He scowls, his free hand fisting in my hair again, pulling me close. His breath is hot over my shoulder, the sensation vile against the skin of my cheek, stained with tears. “Been too long since I found a pretty virgin like you. An’ ruinin’ this perfect, pure little cunt is jus’ the cherry on top of a perfect day f’me.”
I feel his hard cock twitch against me, a reminder of what’s to come. The movements are quick for how bulky Joel’s body is, let alone his age, as he exchanges the hold across my chest for my wrists, bundling them behind my back. I cry out at the strain, the awkward angle he’d twisted them to, fighting him again until a hard smack lands on my ass. I scream through gritted teeth, not giving up the fight, but another thwap! rings out through the apartment, making me falter. My tender flesh screams at me in agony when he lands another spank, even harder this time, then another, until I’m crying unrelenting, fat tears.
With me rendered motionless, Joel presses down, bending me over, my balance tricky with my hands behind my back. My face nearly touches the couch, but I’m precariously held up by the wrists, the strain already making them ache. The warmth dripping between my thighs betrays me as my ass stings in residual little pulses, so raw and sore but spreading a pleasure through me that I’ve never known before.
I don’t have time to dwell on it before Joel is grasping one hand on my hip, notching himself at my entrance. “Promise you’re gonna like this, that you’ll never be able to think of anyone else’s cock but daddy Joel’s,” he spews gruffly in my ear before he thrusts hard, one swift motion to bury himself inside of me. I scream out, the searing pain between my thighs making me wonder if I’m being split open for good, if it’s possible that some things are just too big to fit in certain places of the body.
“Fuuuuuuck,” Joel hisses through his teeth, making the tiniest thrusting motions to ensure he’s buried deep. Every movement pierces me with a new sting as my body desperately tries to adjust, to accommodate the horrible, overwhelming intrusion. “You were not kiddin’, sweetheart. Tightest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever been in.”
I sob, unable to speak, unable to move as Joel thrusts brutally from the get go, his hips snapping with force, crashing into mine hard enough to bruise. The lewd sounds we make disgust me, because I know I’m part of those sounds, my body enjoying the filthy things he’s saying, the way he’s taking me without remorse. He pulls himself out, clicking his tongue as he peers down between our bodies. “Christ, you are one sexy little bird. Poor little virgin bleedin’ on daddy’s cock.”
The thought horrifies me, making my stomach turn. “Please,” I cry out, my body rocking with the motions as he starts to fuck me again, the strain on my wrists as Joel uses them to help thrust himself inside of me starting to gnaw deeper into them. I’m like a ragdoll with the way he’s jerking me by my wrists, my body having no choice but to flail in time with the movements so that he can press himself deep on each cruel thrust inwards.
“You want more? You beggin’ already?” Joel grunts between his heavy breaths, sounding so cocky it makes me want to spin around and punch him. I settle for gritting my teeth instead, feeling my body slowly but surely melding into his. When Joel presses me down further, forcing an arch in my back, I whimper when his cock hits something sensitive, deep, primal. Fuck, is it something.
“Oh, that’s it. We got her now, don’t we?” he says from above, continuing to stroke his cock along that spot repeatedly. I feel myself losing my will to fight, hating the pleasure but feeling myself lean into it slightly, my hips pressing back to meet his nearly against my will. “You ever come before, sweetheart?” He leans in a little closer to ask the question, the pistoning of his hips slowing the slightest bit.
I refuse to answer, tears pooling in my eyes. I don’t want him to take this from me, I don’t want him to know anything about me. He jerks my wrists at the same time he slams his hips into me, and I whimper loudly, feeling the way he’s surely bruising my insides.
“If you ain’t figured it out yet, the rules are that you answer me when I’m askin’ you a question if you know what’s good for ya,” he spits out, and I shake my head, letting it hang limply.
“Use your words. Say ‘no, daddy’,” he says with sinister condescension, stroking his own ego.
“N-no… daddy…” I say, my tongue revolting against the words, bile climbing up my throat.
He moves his hand to my head, stroking carefully and softly. “Oh, that’s a shame. That’s a daaaamn shame. All pent up, y’are. But daddy will make it all better.” He sounds deranged, sick, like he truly believes that I’m thankful to him for what he’s doing to me. I can’t answer, my mouth gaping open just as he releases my wrists, letting me fall to the couch with a thud. My open mouth gets a mouthful of the cushions, making me sick over the fact that it’s probably full of god knows what due to its age and whatever things Joel seems to get up to in this apartment of his.
I blink as Joel grips tightly at my hips, wondering why he suddenly trusts my hands to be free, when it happens. He thrusts into that spot again, harsh and unforgiving, and I nearly see stars behind my eyes as the head of his cock punches against things I didn’t even know were there. That’s why. I’m incapacitated at this angle, brutally forced to enjoy the pleasure washing over my body as Joel takes from me, actually giving in return this time.
I bite my tongue hard, not wanting to give him any satisfaction for the tiny moans that are growing louder in my throat, desperate to be let out.
“Let me hear you, princess. Daddy doesn’t do with quiet girls. I can feel you clampin’ down on my cock, know you’re lovin’ how I use you up like you were meant for it.”
I shake my head in protest, but a strangled sound escapes past my tight lips when Joel slams into me harder than he has yet, puffing hard as he fucks me like a greedy animal. He chuckles through heavy breaths, little whispers of that’s it, come on, take it, flow freely from his nasty mouth.
I feel myself slip away, further gone from reality as the warmth spreads from my pelvis into my belly, coiling tight. Everything tingles, set on fire, the spot where Joel handles my hips with his fat fingers practically burning with a constant mix of pleasure and pain. I cry out when Joel’s cock pulls that feeling out from deep inside of me again, half a sob and half a moan as it crescendos, waves of pleasure crashing over me.
Joel’s grunts of approval, so brutish and debauched, sends a new wave of arousal through me. I tremble, eyes squeezed shut with my body completely out of my control, taken over by this boundless bliss. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before: heavenly warmth worlds above any of the pleasures I’ve known. This had to be what Joel was referring to, urging me towards, telling me he wanted to make me come. This had to be what I was missing out on all these years, hiding myself away. Was this the reason sex was so coveted, so sought after? Was this feeling… the reason he’s doing what he is to me right now?
It feels like it’s never ending, my body so rigid as it spasms yet pliant as he fucks into me harder and harder. I loathe the noises I’m making that intermingle with his as I squeeze my eyes shut, enjoying it.
“Fuck, fuck - that’s it - f-fuck knew you’d love it. Come on my cock, baby, that’s right.” Joel’s string of praises reach my ears as I come down from my high, limp and yielding to whatever it is he wants to do to me now. I have no fight - my bones turned to jelly, my body sore all over, my throat scratchy from the way he’d assaulted it earlier. I only have it in me to give the rest of myself over, whether I like it or not.
“S-so fuckin’ tight, lettin’ me take your virginity like a good little whore,” he punches out, pounding into my sensitive cunt like it’s saving his soul, like it’s the only thing he could ever care about. I’m on the precipice of coming again, my nerves still frayed and on edge from the last one. A smaller but still powerful climax takes over, my body shuddering and tight, milking every last second of the pleasure.
“Gonna blow my load into this pure little pussy, make it mine - fuck - gonna fill you up like the cocksleeve you are. P-probably never want to be without my fuckin’ load drippin’ out of you again. I-I’m close, fuck -” Joel rambles as he ruts his hips deep, one final thrust and a grunt, and I feel him stall, pulsing into me.
It’s all suddenly very still, an eerie quiet settling over the room. My entire body burns hot, the only thing keeping me from collapsing is Joel’s hands still anchored on my hips as he leaves his cock inside of me, plugging me up. I want to cry again at the sudden, overwhelming shame I feel, but I can’t give him the satisfaction. I can’t.
Joel pats my ass a few times, pulling out. I tremble hard, falling forward onto the couch without his hold, instantly curling in on myself. I resent the way I’d noticed how empty I felt the second he was gone, how cold my body was without his warmth pressed into it. I dare to peer up at the sick man who stands above me, catching his breath, watching just as the last bit of his softening cock gets tucked back into his jeans. He swipes a hand across his forehead, gathering sweat, staring down at me with a darkened expression, grinning cockily.
When he plops down on the couch next to me, picking up the can of beans he’d been eating before, my mouth hangs open in surprise at how casual he’s acting. I watch his face shine with sweat, his breathing still labored, but everything else about his attitude would indicate he didn’t just force himself on me.
I try to keep my expression neutral for my own safety as I feel something leak out of me, not even wanting to give him the smug satisfaction of having to confirm my suspicions about what it is. I do my best to position my body so he can’t see between my legs as I try to pull my underwear up from where they sit near my knees, my jeans following. Joel only gives me a knowing glance as he takes a bite, conscious of the fact that a part of him sits inside my now soiled underwear, and a part of me now sits inside of his soul.
He shoves the can my way and I shrink back at his sudden motion, not taking it from him. “Eat. I ain’t havin’ you all weak and despondent for the next time.”
I feel my heart sink down past my ass, my stomach plummeting along with it as nausea overtakes me, a dizzying sensation clouding my vision. He couldn’t have said what I think he did. I - I’d paid my debt, whatever it was he thought I owed him for saving me when I didn’t even ask him to. For saving me and then doing exactly what that man had planned to do anyways under the guise of a caring, noble rescuer.
“N-next time…?” I manage to make my mouth move, my throat to produce a sound, pushing the question out in a voice that doesn’t sound like my own.
“Know you said not to call you stupid but my house, my rules, an’ sweetheart…” He looks at me under his raised, expectant brows. “My stupid, stupid girl. Did you really think that would be enough? That I’d get an opportunity every man dreams of - an untouched, perfect pussy like yours, to keep all for m’self, and throw it all away?” He’s creeping closer as he speaks, shrouding me on the couch with his huge frame, caging in where I lay, my body wound as tightly as it can to itself to block whatever he’s thinking of doing next. “Now you don’t think daddy is that dumb to let you go knowin’ all that, do you?”
I sit stunned silent underneath him, wide eyes fixed in a tortured gaze on his rugged face, but his hand squeezing my thigh is warning enough for me to shake my head, stuttering out an answer. “N-no. No…” I whisper.
Two approving pats on my cheek send Joel slinking back slightly, his dark, unhinged eyes staring holes into me as they roam over my body. Despite nothing even visible - my chest hidden underneath my arms and legs clamped tightly - I feel violated, objectified.
Terror rips through my chest as reality settles in slowly but surely. I look at the man I’d trusted once, who’d shown himself to be a friend, or at the least an ally, currently feasting his eyes on me like I’m a product. Which now, I suppose I am. A whore. His whore.
“Now,” he says, licking his lips, that hungry gaze already returning, a bulge appearing in his jeans and stretching the fabric. “All I’ve got to do is decide just how long I’ll keep ya for.”
dividers by @/saradika-graphics!
#fic: indebted#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#dark!joel miller fanfiction#dark!joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#x reader#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#dddne joel miller#dead dove joel miller
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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy
Violet let Theo take her arm to wrap it with the piece of blanket. "Thank you," she replied with a wobbly smile. She didn't even have the energy to move, let alone stand back up, so she just sat there, uncomfortably close to the gelatinous body of the monster. "We make a really good team, you know. That monster didn't stand a chance." She knew the importance of giving a positive spin to these sorts of things. It helped with the nightmares.
But before she could say anything else -like praise him for his impressive pizza cutter skills- an orderly stepped into the room, closed the door behind him, and... scolded them? She had to refrain from rolling her eyes at him. "We killed it," she replied, stating the obvious, "it was attacking people." Violet certainly wasn't in the mood for another lecture. Especially coming from an orderly, of all people.
"You don't seem surprised by the giant jellyfish monster in the corner," she pointed out with a frown. Most people would have run out of the room screaming, but he looked pretty calm, even a little impressed. Was he a Delta Green agent? "You know monsters exist." It wasn't a question. "You know monsters exist, and you didn't help us. Not once." He might have never attacked them, but he had never defended them either.
Theo did as she instructed and pressed the shred of blanket to his shoulder, wincing a little and being reminded of where the talon had caught him too. He was disgusted with the room and how he was covered in blood, he could feel it sticking to him and he was so sure that he could smell it too, not just the iron but something else in it, as if it was full of terrible germs, or could that have just been the monster?
Mauve went back towards the monster and Theo shot out his blanket holding hand too late to stop her, wanting to pull her back away from that thing. Whether it was dying or not, he didn't want her to go near it but he was too late and so he sat frozen with his arm stretched out, blanket still balled up in his hand just as she quite viciously and efficiently finished the job. Oh. Well at least she was alright. She fell to her knees and Theo moved to help her, still on his own knees as he got closer.
"You need to wrap up your arm," he told her as he pulled the little bit of blanket along with him, trying to keep it out of the puddle. "Let me help?" He asked as he gently nudged at her injured arm. They were a state but alive at least, which was one step up from the monster. He didn't hear what was happening behind him until too late.
A middle aged orderly stepped into the room, at least not one of the men who had previously attacked them but he had not helped them either. He looked over the scene and then without warning, stepped inside and closed the door quietly. Raising his hands as he looked to the two of them to show he was not armed and was not going to hurt them. "That must have been one hell of a fight," he commented without all that much sympathy though he did at least seem impressed. "What were you both thinking?" Theo bristled beside Mauve though and was sure to once more try and put himself between her and an orderly though this one was doing his best not to appear threatening.
#&(killian beneventi)#violet (there's no happy endings)#multipleoccupancy#delta green verse#read at your own discretion
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The Bolter
Sirius Black x fem!reader who meet again [5.5k words]
prompt: poly!wolfstar or just Sirius x reader in which they were friends with benefits but it was obvious they loved each other even though they acted like they weren’t. Then, reader finds out shes pregnant and before telling them, they do something stupid. so reader runs away for a few months. When she comes back (only bc she had to for some reason) shes like 6-7 months pregnant
CW: secret pregnancy, angst, FWB to strangers to lovers, second chance fic, post war trauma, both Sirius and reader are meeesssssssssssyyyyy in this! I don't approve of what they've done but I understand it
“So…she’s coming back?” Sirius asked cautiously, focusing more on the condensation pooling on the coaster underneath his pint than the concerned gazes of his two best friends.
“Well, I don’t know if she’s coming back, but she’ll be here for Harry’s birthday.” James mollified, sharing a nervous look with Remus.
“Right.” Sirius murmured around a swallow; throat tight and dry though neither the pint nor the pitcher of water in front of him looked as though they’d be able to help him with the matter.
“Are you going to be alright?” Remus queried, and Sirius offered him the most arrogant scoff he could muster; he missed by a long shot.
“Of course I’m going to be alright.” He huffed. “Why? Can’t two friends see each other after five and a half months of silence?”
“Sirius-” James started, but Sirius carried on.
“She’s the only one who’s been silent, you know?” Though he knew that they did indeed both know. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried reaching out.”
“Pads.” Remus offered consolingly, looking frustratingly like he was going to reach a hand out to Sirius as if he were some over tired toddler on the brink of a meltdown.
“Stop, no I- I’m fine, honest.” He insisted as he took a steadying breath. “I- you… talked to her, then?”
James and Remus shared another look before James allowed the segue.
“Mostly by owl, but she has spoken on the phone with Lily a few times.”
Sirius nodded as he considered this; considered the number of owls Sirius had sent that had gone unanswered - perhaps even unopened if the silence meant anything at all.
“She’s…okay?”
Remus let out a sigh as he shot Sirius a tight smile that looked more like a grimace. “She’s…vague.”
“She doesn’t share a whole lot.” James agreed. “Says she’s fine, things are good. Mostly asks about…all of us, Harry.”
“She’s still staying with that great aunt,” Remus added, “helping her with the property.”
“She seeing anyone?” There was no point in pretending that wasn’t the most pressing matter in Sirius’ mind; of course it was. And as angry and bitter as the idea made Sirius, it would have been his own fault, his own doing. He had no one to blame but himself.
And he’d have to live the rest of his life knowing he was the one who let you slip away - pushed you away - right into the arms of someone else.
“Not that she’s mentioned.” Remus responded honestly; he couldn’t say for sure that you weren’t, but if you were, you clearly hadn’t said anything about it.
“Right.” Sirius offered shortly.
“Pads, I…we would understand if it's too hard for you to see her. If you can’t come-”
“Don’t be daft.” Sirius scoffed deploringly. “I’m not going to miss my godson’s birthday. If anyone should be missing it, it should be her; I’ve been here for the past four and a half months, she’s the one who fucked off for good.”
“Sirius-”
“I don’t understand why you had to invite her!” Sirius shouted then, startling even himself when he realised how breathless he sounded all of a sudden.
James smiled at him sadly; Sirius wished he’d stop doing that. “We wanted all of Harry’s uncles and his aunt to be there, Sirius…it’s important, yeah? We…we almost didn’t get this chance.”
Sirius could feel a wicked migraine coming on; between talking about you, the close calls and the fact that the group of you were all alive following the war by nothing but chance, and the fact that the person Sirius was most angry with was himself, he downed the rest of his pint and flagged the server in favour of having to look at the pitiful gazes being shot at him by Remus and James.
Sirius couldn’t tell if he was eager for Harry’s second birthday or dreading it. But like it or not, Sirius was going to be seeing you again.
It had felt like a good idea at the time.
It felt beyond foolish now, but it had felt like a good idea at the time.
*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐
“Sirius, we just won. We just won, why do you have to leave now?” You practically begged as you followed Sirius through his flat.
“Because if I don’t get out now, I’m going to be stuck here for eternity.” He all but spat at you as he shoved articles of clothing into his duffle rather haphazardly. You felt like grabbing the bag from him and folding them properly if the act wouldn’t leave you feeling like you were aiding and abetting his abandoning you.
“But what about James? And Remus? What about Harry? You fought this war for them, and they for you - we just got them back!”
“And they’ll be here when I’m ready to come home!” Sirius shouted; turning to look at you with wild, red rimmed eyes.
“What about me?” You asked quietly, hating how small you sounded.
“What about you?” He asked; face falling painfully neutral. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought he was occluding.
“I…I don’t know.” You started awkwardly, shrugging one shoulder. “I thought…maybe we’d have a chance now. To try?.”
“Y/N.” Sirius sighed as he rubbed harshly at his eyes; entire being oozed exhaustion at having to have this conversation with you. “Have I not been entirely clear about what this was between us?”
“Right.” You agreed quickly, biting roughly on your lip and looking anywhere but at him as he let his hand fall away from his face.
“It’s…it’s not you, doll-” but even your humourless scoff didn’t derail him “I’m not the kind to settle down and be content I- I wouldn’t be enough for you.”
“I’m not asking you for any more than what we have, Sirius-”
“Yes you are.”
“-I just want you to stay.”
“That’s too much for me.” He stated; his voice never raised though he may as well have screamed it at you. “I cannot sit here and play house, I cannot be that guy for you.”
“Cannot or will not?” You asked quietly, regretting the question the second it came out of your mouth and he looked at you with nothing but pity in his eyes.
“Y/N…”
“I’m sorry I asked.” You let out with a chuckle as you harshly wiped tears from under your eyes.
“It’s…it’s not forever, yeah? I just…I can’t see myself being happy here…not right now, at least; not for a while.”
“Where will you go?” Your voice grated painfully as it came out, but you tried to keep an air of nonchalance about you. You wouldn’t look at him, but you could see his shoulders shrug helplessly.
“I don’t know…everywhere. Anywhere.”
Anywhere was better than stuck here with you, apparently.
“I hope it’s nice, wherever it is.” You offered, and you found that you meant it. As much as it hurt to say, you really, really meant it. Sirius had been fighting and running his entire life, and he finally won. If he wanted to celebrate his victory by taking off to be that rich, vague uncle who popped by with lavish gifts every so often, who were you to deny him?
You loved him.
You were in love with him.
You loved him enough to let him go.
*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐
He had sent James a postcard a few weeks later. Turns out he started in the South of France; his family had a home there that had been left untouched by the war, and Sirius was going to start by figuring out what to do with the property.
And you? Well, you found out you were pregnant.
You suppose it was a small mercy that Sirius wasn’t here to know; you’re sure it would have hurt more hearing him tell you he was leaving if there were two of you he couldn’t find it in him to love. You would have hated it even more if he felt trapped into staying with you just for this.
But all this meant was that you couldn’t stay, either.
You supposed that was alright, though; the life you wanted to build here was with Sirius. You loved your friends, but you had a little one to think about now, too.
You made up a story about a great aunt needing help tending to her property and wishing to be closer to your relatives now that you could be, now that it was safe. No one questioned it, likely because Remus had done the same following the war; moving back home to help his dad and ailing mother tend the property in whatever ways he could.
You found yourself a little cottage, you wrote to the boys and had the occasional phone call with Lily, and you grew.
It had felt like a good idea at the time.
But now you were almost six months pregnant and returning home for the first time since you moved to celebrate your nephew’s birthday with all of your closest friends, the love of your life whose child you were carrying, and none of them knew.
You wondered if you should even go, but the thought of missing out on sweet Harry’s second birthday that the lot of you almost never got the chance to see made your throat constrict with tears you refused to shed since the war.
You wondered if you should tell everyone before you arrived, but the thought of them all discussing you and your pregnancy without you being there left you feeling small and ashamed.
You wondered if you should tell Sirius, but you looked over at the stack of unopened letters he had sent to you in the past four months - the first thin, perhaps a postcard, the second and third were thicker, the fourth was by far the thickest (like he had drafted an autobiography that he wanted you to proofread for him), the fifth was similar to the second, whilst the sixth (the last) couldn’t be more than one page - and wondered how the hell you’d even start that conversation after all this time.
Hey, remember me? Yeah, the bird who caught feelings during our friends with benefits situation that we both agreed would remain platonic amidst a battle for survival and then begged you to stay with no success? Well, whilst you’ve been off probably shagging every beautiful woman across the British Isles, I’ve been pregnant. Right, with your child. How was France, by the way?
You swallowed around your gag reflex and groaned at your image in the mirror. You put on a pair of gingham pants with the baggiest band-tee you could find, planned on sucking in the best you could if anyone (when everyone) insisted on a hug and hoped to every deity that they all just assumed you’d been eating really well since the end of the war.
You smoothed the fabric over your bump one last time before you left - looking at the proof that, if nothing else, you were protecting more than just yourself, and you let that be enough - before you grabbed Harry’s birthday present and called for Potter Manor, throwing a fistfull of floo powder into your fireplace and travelling by way of the flames.
You could hear Harry squealing in delight in one of the adjacent rooms as you stepped into the floo reception room at Potter Manor; a smile taking over your face uninhibitedly at the sounds of the people you loved more than life itself, happy and celebrating.
How could you have gone so long without this?
“Y/N!” Lily shrieked as she made for you, and you sucked in before returning her hug. “Merlin, you're glowing! Where’s your aunt's place again?”
“Erm. Killarney.” You offered; not entirely untrue - you did have an aunt in Killarney.
“Well,” she let out with a breath, eyes turning a touch glassy as they darted across your face, “it seems that Irish air’s been for you.”
You smiled back at your friend before pulling her back in for another hug. “I’ve missed you, Lils.”
“Don’t let it go so long next time, yeah? We can come to you, too; I’m teaching James how to be a muggle, and Harry’s only had the odd burst of accidental magic yet. We could play the part in front of your aunt.”
“I’d love that, Lily.” You responded earnestly.
“Y/N!” James hollered then before you were being bodily tackled by the former quidditch chaser, a brief flash of anxiety at his hold around your stomach abating only when he relinquished his hold on you. “Where in the sodding hell have you been!?”
“Killarney.” Lily answered for you.
“I love Killarney!”
“Have you ever been to Killarney, Prongs?” Remus asked then, appearing in the door as he leaned against the archway.
“No! But I love it there! I just know it!”
“Hey Moony.” You greeted, quickly accepting his open arms and breathing him in.
“We’ve missed you.” He murmured into your hair, and you couldn’t help the traitorous hitch in your heart that he might’ve meant-
“Uncle Pafoo!” Harry squealed, suddenly standing right underneath you.
“That’s right, Haz!” The voice that haunts your dreams called out. “Auntie is here!”
“Hullo, Harry!” You cheered as you picked him up, sucking in before settling on your hip. “Happy birthday, little dude.”
“Am two!” He announced as he held up four fingers.
“You are two! Way to go!” You laughed. “Is everyone here?” You asked the room, shooting Sirius a tight smile so you couldn’t be accused of hostility when your heart stuttered for an entirely different reason.
He looked tired - a bone deep tired that no amount of sleep could rectify - and the bags under his eyes seemed to be chronic. But he was still so beautiful; his hair had grown slightly longer since the last time you’d seen it, the last time you’d run your fingers through it, the last time you’d brought sheers to it, and he donned more than a few new tattoos if the few you could see were enough to go by.
You had to look away.
“Reg’s going to be by after work; his part-time student called in sick so he needed to be there to close the shop himself. Thankfully, they’re only open in the morning on Sunday’s.” Remus explained kindly.
“Good, it’ll be nice to see him.” You offered, and the room fell slightly awkward.
“Uncle Pafoo, aeroplane?” Harry asked then, and whatever exhaustion seemed to be plaguing Sirius vanished as he beamed at his godson.
“Absolutely, little man!” He agreed, holding his arms out and taking Harry’s weight from you.
“Do you want something to drink, Y/N? Wine? Beer, Cider? Juice? Water?” James rapid fire, causing Lily to groan.
“We just got her back, Potter. Do try to control yourself.”
“Water would be great, Jamie. Thank you.” You laughed, following the group into the open concept kitchen-to-living room.
Save the fact that you and Sirius seemed to be doing acrobatics to avoid each other, you were almost stunned at how easy and natural being back here felt. Regulus returned and the two of you shared friendly jibes, Lily caught you up on all of the drama at the Ministry, James strong armed you into agreeing to join them for their next pub quiz night, and Remus said that your old professors all wished you well.
You loved your cottage - the home you’d built for yourself and your little one - but you found yourself feeling homesick for here, and you hadn’t even left yet.
You were leaning on your elbows against the kitchen island, watching Sirius and Regulus pretend to be knights in shining armour as they fought off a fire breathing dragon (Harry) to save the princess (James) when Remus appeared beside you and mirrored your stance.
“It’s not the same without you, you know?” He murmured then.
“But they seem to be alright.” You responded simply, and Remus allowed the two of you to fall into silence for a few beats.
“How far along are you?”
You stood up straight and turned to stare at him in horror, only to see him smiling kindly at you.
“How do you-”
“Lycanthropy - I could smell it on you.” He said with an embarrassed wrinkle of his nose. “I knew Lily was pregnant before she did.”
You shushed him and looked over your shoulder to ensure no one else could hear you.
“Come.” He said with a sigh, gently taking you by the elbow and ushering you out of the sliding doors to the back yard and closing it behind the two of you.
“Remus-”
“Is it his?” He cut you off; his face held no judgement though perhaps just a touch of concern. For you or his best friend/virtual brother-in-law, you weren’t sure.
“Yes.” You whispered, not bothering to clarify who he was talking about; you both knew.
Remus simply nodded as he looked you over. “Is that why you left?”
“He left first.” You hissed petulantly.
“He left you, but you left all of us.” Remus countered somewhat sternly. “Besides, I didn’t ask about him; is this why you left?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because, Remus!” You shouted, tears flooding your vision as you turned to look at him. “Because he didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want me. I wasn’t going to force him to come back just because… just because.”
“Don’t you think he should have been able to make that choice for himself?” Remus asked gently.
“He chose! He did choose! He told me he couldn’t play house, he told me he couldn’t be this person for me. I loved him enough to accept that. I loved him enough to let him go.”
“Loved?” Remus asked with a tilt of his head. “Past tense?”
“Remus.” You groaned. “Please.”
“He came back for you, you know.” Remus pointed out. “He left you, you left us, but he came back for you.”
“Stop it.”
“It’s true, Y/N.”
“And so what if it is?” You nearly sobbed. “So what if he did, Remus? What can I do? I can’t go back in time and change my mind, I can’t go back and fix this. He made choices, I made choices, and here we are.”
Remus heaved a sigh and looked at you sadly. “I don't think either of you realise that your choices don’t have to remain permanent; there can be an expiration date on them.”
You were catching your breath from your mini temper tantrum when you heard the glass door slide open, both you and Remus turning to see Sirius standing there almost shy - far shier than you’d ever seen him before.
“Just talk to him? Okay? You..don’t have to tell him now, just…talk to him.” Remus whispered before heading towards the door, clapping Sirius on the back before disappearing back into the house.
“Hey.” Sirius offered cautiously after a few beats of silence, coming to stand beside you as the two of you looked over the railing of the patio to the rest of the manor grounds.
“Hey.” You returned dumbly, clearing your throat before continuing. “You…you look good, Sirius.”
Sirius scoffed, and you could feel your shoulder rising before you saw him smirk at you - if not somewhat sadly - cutting you a playful glare from the corner of his eye. “Did you take up lying there in Ireland?”
You let out a breathy half-laugh. “I’m not lying.”
“Then you need glasses. I look like shite.”
“You look tired.” You amended.
“I’m exhausted.” He agreed, and the two of you lapsed into silence.
“You look good, though.” He continued. “Healthy.”
You hummed in agreement. “Funny what not having to run on rations and broken hours of sleep on military cots does for a person.”
“Why haven’t I heard from you, Y/N?” He blurted then, turning his entire body to face you.
“Sirius, I-”
“Everyone else has. You’ve spoken to Lily on the phone. James and Remus have gotten letters. Even Reg got a postcard for his birthday.”
“I’m sorry.” Was all you could manage to say.
“I wrote to you.” He continued. “Letters, a lot. Did you get them?”
You nodded your head yes shamefully.
“Did you read them?”
You felt your heart splinter at how hopeful and heartbroken he sounded over it. You felt like scum of the earth when you shook your head no, and he let out a sigh.
“I guess that makes me feel a little bit better, then.” He said as he lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.
You found yourself taking a step away from him when you asked “why does that make you feel better?”
He let out a humourless laugh that forced smoke from his lips. “At least now I know that my begging for a second chance, begging you to come home, professing my love for you isn’t what kept you away.”
“Sirius-”
“I messed up, Y/N.” He declared earnestly. “I…I was fucking scared, terrified. I’d spent so much of my life living with one foot on the threshold of hell that after the war, I didn’t know how to live amongst the undead.”
He took a moment to catch his breath as if he’d run all the way here just to tell you something. “And I ran. I bolted, I…”
“You left.” You finished for him.
“I left.” He agreed. “I… I didn’t know, Y/N.”
“Didn’t know what?” You asked as you choked back tears.
“Didn’t know what I had, or what I wanted. Or that I had everything that I wanted.”
“And you do, now? You know what you want?” You asked, and a look of determination painted his features as he met your gaze head on.
“For my entire life, I had never known what family meant, so I wasn’t even aware that I’d created my own with all of you until I’d risked it all. I was so sure I didn’t want to be like my parents that I never realised I may actually…want to be a parent someday. I was so sure I didn’t want to be my father that I never realised I actually did want to be a partner someday. I was so certain I’d never know what true love felt like that I didn’t even realise I had it right here all along with you.”
“Sirius-”
“I messed up. I left. But what I don’t understand is why you did. Or why you stayed away.” He took a step towards you with his cigarette long forgotten in one of his hands, the ash threatening to burn his fingers before you plucked it and stubbed it out on the stone railing. He barely flinched. “Why’d you go?”
“I didn’t want to sit around and wait for you, Sirius. I- it hurt, I was hurt. And then-”
“I’m sorry.” He offered quickly, but you shook your head.
“I’m not telling you this for you to be sorry, I just-”
“I came back for you.”
“But it wasn’t just about me anymore, Sirius!” You shouted then, and you watched his brows furrow before his face fell in horror.
“You’re seeing someone.” He asked, though he phrased it as more of a statement; like he’d been expecting it.
“I’m not seeing anyone, Sirius.” You sighed.
“Then why’d you leave? Why’d you stay away?”
“Because I’m pregnant.” You blurted, and Sirius fell silent. “I’m almost six months pregnant.”
“Six-” He started, eyes falling to your stomach still hidden behind the baggy article of clothing before you smoothed the fabric over your ever rounding bump. “Six months. Six…”
You let him do the maths in the head as he stared hard at your stomach like he was sitting in divination and it was a crystal ball that might just give him the answers if only he stared at it long enough.
“It’s mine?” He finally concluded.
“Yes.” You whispered.
“It’s mine. You’re pregnant, it’s mine.” He murmured, before his eyes met yours again. “You’re pregnant with my child?”
“Right.” You agreed, and he crumpled to a heap on the floor.
“Sirius Orion Black,” Sirius heard Remus hiss, clearly hovering somewhere over him, “I swear to Godric if you do not wake up and eat some of this godsdamned vanilla cake you bought, your brother is going to skin you alive.”
“It’s true.” James agreed from somewhere on Sirius’ other side. “He actually ran to the store when he found out you bought vanilla because he knew Remus wouldn’t eat any of it. Remus is going to get his chocolate cake, and you’re going to get egged.”
“Shut up.” Sirius hissed as he scrunched his eyes closed. “Fuck.”
“How do you feel, mate?” James asked rather jovially as he clapped him roughy on the shoulder.
“Like hell.”
“Why’s that?” Remus joined in.
“Because I was in the middle of a dream and you sods woke me up going on about cake.” He muttered as he opened his eyes, realising then that he’d been propped up on a number of cushions in one of Lily and James’ spare rooms.
“S’he awake?” Lily whispered, and Sirius craned his neck to see you and Lily poke your heads into the room.
“Oh my gods.” Sirius breathed as he sat up, likely far too fast for someone who fell unconscious mere moments ago. “Oh my gods, you’re actually here?”
“Did you hit your head, mate?” James asked as he prodded at Sirius’ head, causing Sirius to swat his arms away as he shifted towards the edge of the bed.
“You’re here.” He whispered as you slowly made your way into the room.
“I’m here.” You offered cautiously, eyes darting around at your oldest friends like there might be some secret threat lurking in the room.
“You’re pregnant…” He tried then, punching the air right out of Lily and James who both spun to stare at you in shock.
You smoothed the fabric of your shirt over your midsection again to expose a very obvious (now that everyone could actually see it) baby bump.
“Oh my gods!” Lily and James chorused, causing Remus to snort.
“You knew, didn’t you!?” Lily accused Remus who held his hands up in surrender.
“Only when she walked in, and not a second sooner.”
“With my child.” Sirius continued, and you nodded at him.
“Y/N.” Lily winced. “You-”
“You sodding scared me!” You shrilled then, grabbing one of the throw pillows James had dumped onto the ground to make room for Sirius and swinging it at him.
“I scared you!?” Sirius shrieked right back, much to the delight of Harry who started banging on the throw pillow that had landed beside him.
“I thought I killed you!”
“Oh, well I’m terribly sorry that finding out the woman I’ve been in love with for years and pining hopelessly over for months - who was missing for all intents and purposes, may I remind you - is pregnant with my child happened to be a little shocking.” Sirius sneered sarcastically.
“Well I only went ‘missing’ because the man I’ve been hopelessly in love with for years and pining hopelessly over for months took off an-” The abrupt end of your statement nearly gave the room whiplash as you cut yourself off mid sentence and stared at Sirius like you’d never seen him before.
“What…what just happened?” James whispered carefully.
“Years?” You whispered then, and Sirius hated every version of himself that deigned to let you go without knowing just how loved you were.
“Probably when we were still just cosmic dust.” Sirius smiled sadly. “I’m sorry I didn’t always realise, I’m sorry I didn’t make sure that you knew.”
“I take it to guess there isn’t an aunt in Killarney?” Lily offered then, smiling kindly at you when you turned your attention towards her.
“No, I- I think there actually is an aunt in Killarney, I just don’t live with her.”
“Where do you live?” Sirius asked eagerly, wondering if you could hear it in his voice or even see on his face just how desperate he was to know everything about you.
“Near Tintagel.” You offered abashedly as Remus slapped his hand on his thigh.
“You minx!” He scolded you. “You lived basically across the channel from me this whole time!”
“I hope it’s nice, wherever it is” You offered him then, smiling through your tears as Sirius swallowed around his bile threatening its way up his oesophagus.
“I hope it’s nice.” Sirius blurted suddenly, and Sirius thanked the heavens for Remus John Lupin who seemed to understand that the conversation delved beyond the need of an audience, scooping Harry up and closing the door behind Lily, James, and himself to give you two some privacy.
“It’s nice.” You offered wetly. “It’s quiet.”
Sirius hummed in acknowledgement. “In Tintagel, near Merlin’s cave?”
You laughed, which saw Sirius smiling. “I’m not right in Tintagel, just outside. My neighbours are mostly sheep.”
“Does it have a picket fence?”
“To keep the sheep out of my garden.” You nodded with a smile.
“Flowers; lots of them.” Sirius deduced, you nodded again though Sirius watched your smile falter.
“You’d probably hate it.”
“Are you there?” He asked quickly.
“Well, usually, yes.” You offered, and Sirius shrugged easily.
“Sounds as though it might be my favourite place in the world, then.”
The next breath that left you shuddered on its way out, and Sirius finally stood and met you in the middle of the room; close enough to touch but not daring to. He hadn’t earned that right yet.
“Take me with you?” He all but begged then, and your face crumpled in misery.
“Sirius, I don’t want you to follow me because you have to, I-”
“I don’t have to though, I know I don’t; I know you’d never make me.” He assured you then, lifting a hand but pausing to wait for you to nod at him before he placed it on your upper arm. “The letters, Y/N, I- I’ve been looking for you for months.”
A sob tore through you as you lowered your head, and Sirius allowed himself to catch it in his free hand.
“I don’t want you to feel bad; I’m not telling you so that you feel bad, love.” The endearment falling off his tongue so easily now that he had you in his arms. “But I need you to know that I want you - any of you, all of you - and have for a very long time.”
“It’s just…you said-” and Sirius knew exactly what he said; he had played that conversation over and over and over in his mind until he found himself sick over it more than once. But we waited for you to tell him anyhow; he’d always wait for you. “You couldn’t settle down and be content, you couldn’t play house; you weren’t that kind of guy.”
“I know, doll. I know.” He whispered. “I…I didn’t think I was capable of it. I didn’t think I deserved everything I wanted and I knew that you deserved better. That you deserve better.”
“But?”
“But I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life trying to prove you otherwise; trying to give you everything you deserve.”
“Sirius…” You sighed, and Sirius could see your walls cracking. “I…I’m-”
“Take me home? Please?” He begged then, words interrupted by a sob of his own. “To Tintagel, to Killarney, to bloody fucking Azkaban or the bottom of the sodding ocean, I don’t care where it is just as long as it’s with you, please. Please.”
Your hands landed on Sirius’ chest and he was sure you could feel his hummingbird heart beating under your fingertips. He only hoped you knew how it beat for you.
“Please bring me home?”
James didn’t know if he could consider this a success or not.
His motivation was not singular; it was a ‘hit two fairies with one gobstone’ sort of scenario, so to speak. Was his son turning two? Indeed he was! Was James throwing a party for said son’s birthday? You’re damned right he was. But was it also a really good excuse to force two of his idiot best friends into the same room again? Absolutely.
Except James seems to have gotten slightly more than he bargained for; Sirius falling unconscious in his childhood backyard, you sobbing into Lily’s shoulder out in the hallway as he and Remus tried to bring him back from the dead, Remus sneering at a slice of birthday cake like it personally offended him and Regulus threatening to defend his boyfriend’s honour, and - apparently - a new niece or nephew coming in the next three-ish months.
But when he looked over to see you and Sirius emerging from the spare room - both of your faces tear stained and puffy from the grief and torment you no doubt put yourselves through - hands intertwined between your bodies and your hand resting protectively over your growing bump, and a spark in Sirius’ eyes James had thought he lost in the war but now realised he only lost when he lost you…
…yeah, James figured he could probably consider this a success.
#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#sirius black x fem!reader#fem!reader#pregnancy fic#second chance romance#fwb#fwb to strangers to lovers#fwb to lovers#sirius black angst#sirius black hurt/comfort#sirius black fic#sirius black ficlet#sirius black imagine#sirius black fanfiction#post war fic#angst with a happy ending#ellecdc fics
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Day 11: Threesome F/M/M
STAYC J X OC x OC
Kinkvember Day 11
The neon lights of Seoul's bustling nightlife flickered as Jang Yeeun, a 19-year-old Korean beauty with brown short hair, sipped her drink at the crowded bar. Her slim, athletic figure was accentuated by a red dress that hugged her curves just right. She was here to unwind from her stressful job as a marketing executive, not to pick up men.
Across the room, two men, both 30-year-olds, were engaged in a lively conversation. One was a tall, muscular American named Lucas with short blond hair and blue eyes, the other was a lanky, dark-haired Korean named Min with striking green eyes. They were old friends who had reunited after years apart. Min noticed Yeeun first, nudging Lucas and whispering, "Look at that stunning woman over there."
Lucas followed Min's gaze and smiled. "She's gorgeous. Why don't you go talk to her?"
Min shook his head. "I'm not good at this kind of thing. You should go."
Lucas chuckled. "Alright, but only if you promise to back me up."
As Lucas approached Yeeun, she looked up and met his gaze. He flashed a confident smile and said, "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. I'm Lucas. And you are?"
Yeeun smiled back, amused. "I'm Yeeun. Nice to meet you, Lucas."
Lucas gestured to the empty seat next to her. "Do you mind if I join you?"
"Not at all," Yeeun replied, scooting over to make room.
They chatted easily, the chemistry between them palpable. Lucas was charming and witty, and Yeeun found herself laughing more than she had in months. She was drawn to his confidence and charisma.
Min watched from a distance, smiling at the sight of his friend effortlessly charming Yeeun. He knew Lucas had a way with women, but he also knew that Lucas had a dark side, a side that craved more than just vanilla sex. Min wondered if Yeeun was ready for that.
After an hour of conversation, Lucas leaned in closer to Yeeun. "You know, I'm not the only one who finds you incredibly attractive," he whispered. "My friend over there has been watching us, and he can't take his eyes off you."
Yeeun looked over and met Min's gaze. She felt a shiver run down her spine. "Really?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lucas nodded. "Would you like to meet him? Maybe the three of us could get to know each other better."
Yeeun hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay, I'd like that."
Lucas smiled and signaled to Min, who joined them at the table. The three of them talked and laughed late into the night, the air thick with sexual tension.
Eventually, Lucas suggested they move the party back to his hotel room. Yeeun looked at Min, who gave her a reassuring smile. She decided to take a chance.
In the hotel room, the three of them sat on the couch, the air charged with anticipation. Lucas took the lead, kissing Yeeun softly on the lips. She responded eagerly, her body pressing against his. Min watched, his cock hardening in his pants as he imagined what was to come.
Lucas's hands roamed over Yeeun's body, cupping her breasts and squeezing her nipples through the fabric of her dress. Yeeun moaned softly, her breath coming in short gasps. Min moved closer, his hand finding its way to Yeeun's thigh. She spread her legs slightly, giving him better access.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to touch you," Min whispered in her ear. Yeeun shivered, her pussy already wet with anticipation.
Lucas pulled back and looked at Min. "She's all yours, buddy."
Min took over, his lips finding Yeeun's. He kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth. Yeeun moaned into his kiss, her hands pulling his shirt off. Min broke away and trailed kisses down her neck, her collarbone, her shoulders. He unzipped her dress and slipped it off, revealing her lace bra and panties.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," Lucas said, his voice thick with lust.
Min continued his exploration of Yeeun's body, his mouth finding her nipples through the lace. He sucked and nibbled, making Yeeun squirm with pleasure. Lucas watched, his cock aching in his pants.
Min slipped his hand into Yeeun's panties, finding her already wet pussy. He rubbed her clit, making her gasp and buck her hips. Lucas moved closer, his hand joining Min's in Yeeun's panties. Together, they explored her pussy, their fingers sliding in and out, making Yeeun moan with pleasure.
"You like that, don't you?" Lucas whispered. "You like having two men touch you."
Yeeun nodded, her breath coming in short gasps. "Yes...yes, I do."
Min and Lucas worked together, their hands and mouths exploring every inch of Yeeun's body. They took turns kissing her, their tongues dueling in her mouth. Min slipped off her bra, freeing her breasts. Lucas sucked and licked her nipples while Min fingered her pussy.
Yeeun was a writhing mass of pleasure, her body aching for more. She reached for Lucas's cock, her hand wrapping around the hard length. He groaned, his hips thrusting into her hand. Min slipped off her panties, his fingers playing with her pussy lips.
"You're so wet," he whispered. "I can't wait to taste you."
He moved between her legs, his mouth replacing his fingers. Yeeun cried out as his tongue found her clit, licking and sucking. She bucked her hips, her hands gripping Lucas's cock tighter.
Lucas watched Min eat Yeeun's pussy, his own cock throbbing with desire. He wanted to fuck her, wanted to feel her tight pussy around his cock. But first, he wanted to watch Min make her come.
Min's tongue worked magic on Yeeun's clit, bringing her to the edge of orgasm. She could feel the pleasure building, her body tensing with anticipation. Lucas leaned in, his mouth finding her nipple. He sucked and nibbled, his hand wrapping around her breast.
Yeeun came with a cry, her body convulsing with pleasure. Min licked her pussy, drinking her juices. Lucas moved up, his cock poised at her entrance. He looked into her eyes, asking for permission. Yeeun nodded, her body still trembling with aftershocks.
Lucas slipped inside her slowly, giving her time to adjust to his size. Yeeun moaned, her hands gripping his shoulders. He began to move, his cock sliding in and out of her pussy. Min moved behind her, his cock pressing against her ass.
"You want both of us, don't you?" Min whispered in her ear.
Yeeun nodded, her breath coming in short gasps. "Yes...yes, I do."
Min slipped a finger into her ass, lubing it with her juices. He pushed it in deeper, making Yeeun moan. He added another finger, stretching her. Yeeun pushed back against him, her body ready for more.
Min replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding in slowly. Yeeun gasped, the sensation of being filled by both men overwhelming. Lucas watched, his cock throbbing with desire. He began to move again, his hips thrusting into Yeeun's pussy.
The three of them moved together, their bodies synchronizing. Yeeun could feel both cocks inside her, the pleasure intense. She moaned and cried out, her body aching for more.
Min and Lucas took turns fucking her, their cocks sliding in and out of her pussy and ass. They switched positions, trying different angles and depths. Yeeun was lost in a haze of pleasure, her body on fire.
They moved to the bed, Lucas lying on his back. Yeeun straddled him, her pussy sliding down onto his cock. She rode him, her hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm. Min knelt behind her, his cock poised at her ass. He slipped in slowly, making Yeeun moan.
The three of them moved together, their bodies slick with sweat. Yeeun could feel both cocks inside her, the pleasure building with each thrust. She rode Lucas's cock, her body tensing with anticipation.
Min reached around, his hand finding her clit. He rubbed it, making Yeeun gasp and buck her hips. The pleasure was too much, too intense. She came with a scream, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm.
Lucas groaned, his cock throbbing inside her. He came with a groan, his body shuddering with the force of his release. Min followed, his cock pulsing inside her ass.
The three of them collapsed on the bed, their bodies entwined. Yeeun lay between them, her body aching with pleasure. She looked from one man to the other, a smile on her face.
"That was...incredible," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lucas and Min smiled, their eyes filled with satisfaction. They had found something special in Yeeun, something worth exploring. And they intended to do just that.
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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 6
Or: a secret Admirer AU
PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5
In the next letter, Eddie makes no comment about their differing opinions. Chrissy knew he wouldn’t. She doesn’t know Eddie, not really, but he’s never seemed like the kind of guy who’d stop talking to someone over such shallow, small differences, no matter how he comes off in his little cafeteria rants.
Secret Admirer,
You’re enough, just the way you are, brown eyes and all. I bet they’re real pretty. I could look into them for hours, mesmerized by every color differentiation, spend days counting every one of your eye lashes.
Just say the word—I’ll pick you up in my van and we can go to the drive-in and hold hands the whole time. I’ll wear my silver jewelry, and you can wear gold. I bet your hands would look real pretty wrapped up in mine.
I’ll be a gentleman, sweetheart, I swear.
Only the best for you.
Yours,
Eddie
P.S. Romantic meeting spot. I can’t wait to put this note right next to your heart. Next time maybe I can put my letter in Moby Dick. After all, you’re my white whale, baby, I’m always looking for you.
She likes Eddie, really she does, but the way Steve blushes as he hands the letter to her is ridiculous. The guy’s not exactly smooth, or suave, or any of the things that should leave Steve all hot and bothered.
Still, she dutifully helps him write his reply:
Eddie —
Maybe someday, we’ll get to go to that movie. When we do, you don’t have to be a gentleman at all—I’m easy, if it’s for you, and it would be such a waste not to make use of all that space in your van.
I don’t have any rings, but if I did, I think I’d want one of yours. That way, whenever I look down at them, I’d be reminded of you.
How was your day? All I want to do is ask and hear your reply.
Yours, always
Your Secret Admirer
P.S. I’ll search the seas for you.
“I know he’s your friend, but I just don’t get it,” Chrissy says to Jeff, walking close enough to his side that their shoulders brush. “The guy looks like a mangy poodle, and he’s not exactly Shakespeare.”
Jeff snorts. “Hey, he’s at least a cute mangy poodle,” he replies, bumping their shoulders purposefully this time.
“I guess if you’re into that sort of thing,” she mutters, and somehow, Steve is. It still shocks her, sometimes, when she thinks about it too much.
“The heart wants what it wants,” Jeff says, sounding wise, but when she glances at him, he’s grinning, eyebrows jumping up and down at her like this is all just some joke.
She scoffs, “I just wish what Steve wanted wasn’t leading toward a broken heart.”
Jeff’s expression drops at that, mouth pursing. He’s quiet all the way to Eddie’s locker. She slips Steve’s letter between the slats and keeps walking, only stopping when she realizes Jeff’s no longer beside her. When she turns around, he’s staring at Eddie’s closed locker like it holds the answers to the universe.
“I’m not so sure about that,” he says, finally turning back toward her and catching back up with quick strides.
Chrissy doesn’t respond, at a loss for what to say. She can’t see it, but for all the letters she’s helped write, her and Eddie aren’t friends. She doesn’t know him as well as Jeff, who’s been by his side for years, or even as well as Steve, who watches him every chance he can get.
“Yeah, maybe,” she replies, unwilling to let any hope build, not when it’s Steve’s heart on the line. “Want a ride home?”
“Yeah, thanks,” Jeff replies.
And when he slides into her passenger seat, she feels a little less alone.
The letters keep coming, and Steve keeps blushing and pushing them across the table at her.
Secret Admirer,
Oh, a flirty one, aren’t you? I like it. But maybe I’m shy, did you ever think about that? Maybe I want to walk you to your door, slide one of my rings on your finger, and give you a little kiss. You can pick the ring, baby—I’ll even resize it to fit you just right.
My days are always brighter when I hear from you. I go to the quarry on Wednesday’s to peddle my wares, but all I want to do is go home and play my guitar (my sweetheart). I’m writing a new song and I really want to get it down by next week’s practice, but I’m stuck on a riff I just can’t get right.
Do you play any instruments?
Sincerely,
Eddie
P.S. You’re going to make me swoon, babygirl.
And Steve keeps responding using Chrissy’s pen and Chrissy’s brain, and his own bleeding heart.
Eddie —
My mom made me take piano lessons when I was little, but my dad refused to keep paying for them. I didn’t want to at first, but I really liked it. Maybe I’ll brush up my skills so I can play a song for you. Any requests?
Does your band play anywhere? I remember you from the middle school talent show, are you still going by Corroded Coffin? I bet you look hot when you play—I want to see it, someday. Your rings would glint under show lights, hypnotizing the entire audience. Especially me.
Did you figure out your riff? I’m waiting with bated breath.
Sincerely,
Your Secret Admirer
P.S. leave this one in The Taming of the Shrew.
She wants to build a cage and lock him inside, or shake him and shake him until he sees what a risk he’s taking. Jeff might not see it, his priorities are different. But her first concern is Steve, always will be Steve, whose heart isn’t the only thing on the line. And she can feel it coming—the moment, inevitably, when this whole thing falls to pieces.
Secret Admirer,
Have you read this play? It’s not the romantic story you think it is. Since you’re already holding the book, why not check it out? I promise not to look at the checkout card to figure out who you are (I say, unrepentantly lying).
My band actually just got our first gig at the Hideout. It’s next Tuesday, and you should come! I would love to see you in the audience, cheering me on. I’ve been trying to respect your boundaries, but darling, I want to see you. Will you come? Please?
Thinking of you, always,
Eddie
Chrissy doesn’t want to stand by and watch Steve Harrington break.
***
Part of Eddie wonders if he won’t get another letter—if she’ll just show up at the Hideout next Tuesday with a smile. Still, when he hasn’t received an answer for a couple days, he checks if anyone’s checked out The Taming of the Shrew, but no, it’s still there, nestled on its shelf in the library, Eddie’s damning letter no longer inside.
He’s starting to wonder if he made a terrible mistake.
It’s happenstance, the way he finds out. He could have just as easily not forgotten his campaign notes. He could have been prepared, and not left all his little sheep moaning and groaning about what amounts to a five minute delay, if he’s quick about it.
He could have, but he didn’t.
Instead, Eddie stands at the end of the hall, transfixed, as he watches Chrissy Cunningham’s distinctive high ponytail sway back and forth as she walks away. From his locker. Where he just saw her slip something in.
She’s well out of sight before Eddie walks up to the looming hunk of metal on shaky legs. It takes three tries to get it open, and there, for all and sundry to see, is an envelope with his name written in a familiar scrawl.
He doesn’t open it.
“What took so long?” Doug gripes as Eddie shuffles back into the room, clutching his notebook to his chest.
Eddie walks slowly to his throne without replying, eyes still unfocused and fixed on the swishing of Chrissy’s hair.
“Are you okay?” Jeff asks.
Eddie shakes the thoughts out of his head, leans back on his throne, and smiles. “Sometimes a quester is besieged on his travels and must defeat a mighty foe before he can return from whence he came.” He says it with all the gravitas of his dungeon master voice.
Doug laughs, Gareth rolls his eyes, but Jeff’s eyes are narrowed on his face for the next ten minutes until he gets sucked into the campaign. And Eddie? Eddie’s heart isn’t in it. No matter how determined he is to put it out of his mind, it keeps sticking to his neurons.
Because Chrissy? She’s nice, sure. And pretty, definitely. Her hair’s…nice? Bouncy? It’s probably soft. And yeah, she’s a jock, but she’s not like most of them—too kind to give a kid a swirly or call any of the other girls fat.
Which brings him to the King of the jocks, Steve Harrington, whose name is practically branded on Chrissy’s shoulders by this point, whose arm is pretty much super-glued around her waist. Steve, with his perfect hair, and long eyelashes, and those big brown eyes, and all those muscles.
Something too squirmy to be hatred sinks in his gut. Jealousy, maybe? Because how could someone like him compete with King Steve for a lady’s hand, love notes or no?
He’s distracted for the rest of the campaign, says half-hearted goodbyes to the boys before finally closing the van door on them and driving away.
When he opens the letter in the safety of his bedroom, it’s shorter than usual:
Eddie —
There’s nothing more I want than to see you up on that stage, rocking out, in your element, but I’m just not ready. I hope you’ll forgive me.
Yours,
Your Secret Admirer
P.S. If you still want to respond, I’ll look in the big print edition of The Hobbit.
He goes over the words again and again, finger running along the lines of each character, trying to picture Chrissy pouring over them with her pen. He loves all the words in all the letters, wants to carve them all on his skin, helplessly charmed by each vulnerability shared.
He can’t quite make the words fit the girl.
Eddie still drops his next reply in the big print edition of The Hobbit the next morning. He watches Chrissy all day. He’s surprised, somehow, when she meets his eyes once across the insurmountable distances between them in the lunchroom. She ducks her head immediately and blushes, even with Harrington’s arm wrapped around her shoulders.
There isn’t another note by the end of the day.
“So, wait,” Gareth says, stoned out of his mind and sprawled out on Eddie’s bed after the hell they call education finally released them. “You’re saying Chrissy has been leaving you all those notes?”
Eddie spins around in his desk chair, but it’s not one of those fancy wheeled ones that Harrington probably has, so he’s forced to turn and straddle the back, letting his head hang over the headrest as he groans.
“For the last time, yes!” he says, more to the little bits of his carpet that he can see than to Gareth himself. “It’s Chrissy!”
Gareth takes another hit, blowing smoke toward Eddie’s ceiling to swirl around and join the rest of the stains up there. “Are you sure it wasn’t just someone who looked like her? How close to her were you?”
Eddie groans again, shuffles off his uncomfortable chair to flop beside Gareth and steal his joint back. “She was wearing a cheerleading uniform, man,” he says before taking a puff and letting all the smoke out with his next words. “And no one else on the team has that color hair.”
Gareth hums, twisting on his side to burrow his head into Eddie’s only pillow. “What is that color even? Like, blond but with a weird red in it? What’s it called, bluh-red?”
He laughs like that’s the funniest joke in the world, so Eddie doesn’t hand back the joint, just pulls on it until he’s down to the quick and ashes it on his nightstand as Gareth whines.
“It’s strawberry blond, you idiot.”
Gareth wrinkles his nose at that. “That’s a stupid name.”
Eddie smacks his hand out, lets it hit Gareth’s arm with a solid thwack. “You’re supposed to be helping me!”
“With what?” Gareth replies, rolling away from Eddie when he goes to hit him again. He ends up on Eddie’s floor, fall cushioned by all of his dirty clothes scattered about. “Just like, talk to her?”
“Chrissy Cunningham?” Eddie demands. Gareth doesn’t seem to be understanding the severity of the situation. “Whose head cheerleader and, oh yeah, dating Steve Harrington?”
“So what? The guy’s a douche,” Gareth replies.
Instead of getting back up on the bed, he snuggles further into Eddie’s dirty clothes, rolling around like a pig in a mud puddle until he’s got enough of Eddie’s discarded shirts on him to function as a makeshift blanket.
Harrington is a douche. He’s got to spend an obscene amount of time on his hair in the morning, and he hangs out with those hyenas on the basketball team all the time, and he’s Steve Harrington. Rich kid, lady killer, King Steve Harrington.
Maybe all Chrissy really wants is an excuse to leave him. If that’s what his lady wants, he will provide.
***
Steve’s been sitting on Eddie’s letter for a few days now, at a loss for what to say. He puts it under his pillow at night, hoping the perfect answer will come to him in his dreams. He finds himself unfolding it and refolding it again and again, wondering if the words will change.
Darling,
If you’re not ready, that’s okay. But the heart wants what it wants, and you can’t blame me for trying, can you? Even still, I’ll be singing just for you.
Of course I still want your letters, never doubt that. They’re still, always, forever, the best part of my day.
Always,
Eddie
P.S. Excellent choice in hiding places, have you read it?
It’s just, a big part of him had expected Steve’s dismissal of meeting up would end this thing they have. He’d braced for it, and instead, Eddie was sweet.
And Steve can’t give him what he wants, isn’t what he wants, so he keeps the letter with him and stews on it, Chrissy sending him worried looks when she thinks he’s not paying attention.
No matter how lost in thought he is, a part of him is always tuned into Eddie’s presence, so he sees him coming before Chrissy does.
“Miss Cunningham,” Eddie says, leaning forward like a gallant knight as he takes her small hand in one of his own. She jumps, eyes darting up from her lunch to meet Eddie’s own. “Can I have this dance?”
The rest of the lunch table titters. It might have been charming, if they were at a dance, or anywhere aside from shoehorned to the side of the table with all of Steve’s shitty friends laughing.
It might have been charming if Eddie’d looked at Steve at all.
Chrissy’s sure looking at him, though—eyes all wide in her face as she shifts her gaze back and forth from Steve sitting across from her to Eddie crouched at her side.
“Um—” is all she gets out before Jason stands from the far end of the table and starts taking threatening steps forward.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Freak?” Jason demands, chin raised.
Steve’s about ready to stand, insert himself in the whole thing, but then Eddie’s lips graze Chrissy’s hand.
Jason stumbles back like he’s been shot. Eddie grins against Chrissy’s skin, turns his gaze away from Jason, and lands on Steve. He can almost feel it on his own skin as Eddie puckers his lips again and presses another kiss to Chrissy’s skin, this time to the smooth surface of her wrist.
He never looks away from Steve.
“Um!” Chrissy says again.
Only then does Eddie break eye contact with him. He drops Chrissy’s hand, placing it gently back to the table, says, “until next time, mi amore,” and saunters away, continuing until he’s out of the cafeteria entirely.
Steve doesn’t look away until the door swings shut and blocks his view of Eddie entirely.
“What was that, Chrissy?” Jason demands. He’s moved closer while Steve was distracted, absolutely towering over her, looking more like a beleaguered father than an ex. “First Harrington, and now the Freak?”
Steve wants to defend himself, defend Eddie, defend Chrissy. But despite what Jason clearly thinks, she’s never needed defending, so he asks, “do you want to get out of here?”
“God, yes,” Chrissy sighs.
They leave their lunches uneaten and their tables unbussed, hustling out the same doors Eddie’d just sauntered through, leaving a scolding Jason in their wake. Something about devil worship and blaspheming?
Steve’s not exactly the church-going type; he’s just glad when the doors swing shut and cut off Jason’s little speech.
“What was that?” Chrissy asks in a whisper despite the deserted corridor.
“Jason?” Steve asks at his normal volume. “I don’t know, he’s always been a bit like that, hasn’t he?”
“Not Jason,” Chrissy snaps, slapping at Steve’s arm, taking any sting out of the motion by wrapping her arm in his after and reeling him right back in. “Eddie!”
Steve, who had sort of been hoping that he could pretend the whole thing had been a vivid hallucination, has nothing to say.
“Do you think he knows?” she asks, voice quiet again as she looks furtively around the deserted halls, for random passerby’s or even Eddie himself.
“About you?” Steve asks, stomach sinking even further when he continues, “or about me?”
Chrissy stumbles, eyes going impossibly wider at the thought. She pulls him into an abandoned classroom and pushes him into one of the uncomfortable chairs. She sits in front of him, looking across the desk between them like he’s a sad woodland creature she’d just hit with her car.
“He can’t know about you,” she says. “He was flirting with me.”
Steve grimaces. Chrissy’s too nice, always thinking the best in people like she doesn’t have Jason Carver as living, breathing proof that sometimes, beyond all expectations, people can suck.
“He could be fucking with me. Eddie seems like the type to play with his food.” Steve stares down at the grooves of the desk he’s seated in. Someone had carved FUCK on it in big, bold letters. Steve’s never agreed with a sentiment more. “Do you think Jeff told him?”
Chrissy shakes her head so hard that her ponytail whacks her in the face. “No way, he promised!” she reminds him.
Jeff seems like a good guy, but Steve’s not sure how far that goes. He doesn’t have the wherewithal to trust like that, not with this.
“Well, what do we do?” Steve asks. “Should you just flirt back next time?”
Chrissy bites her lip, worrying at the dry skin there until Steve taps her chin in reminder, and she puts her teeth back in her mouth.
“Maybe it won’t happen again?”
Steve sighs, thunking his head down against the desk. “Yeah, maybe,” he murmurs into the wood, Chrissy’s hand patting his shoulder a paltry consolation to the nightmare he’s found himself in.
***
It happens again.
“Carry your books, my lady?” Eddie asks. He’s already got his hands out expectantly, but he’s too much of a gentleman to make a move without her say-so.
She watches his hopeful grin for a moment before sliding her pile of books into his awaiting arms. Once secured, he does an endearing little fist bump before taking up residence at her side like it's his birthright.
“What are you doing, Eddie?” she asks.
“What do you mean?” he asks, almost sounding clueless enough to convince her, if it wasn’t for that little smirk on his lips.
Everyone in the hallways are giving them a wide berth, clearly shocked by the unexpected pair. It’s nice, almost, to be given so much space. But—
But.
“You know I’m with Steve, right?” Chrissy asks.
Eddie grimaces, like just hearing Steve’s name is enough to sour his mood. “What, is it illegal to walk a pretty girl to class now?” he asks.
Chrissy’s own mood sinks to the pits, and she sighs, disappointed. “No,” she replies before letting the silence between them linger uncomfortably.
Eddie’s fidgeting with her books, anxious fingers fluttering against the loose pages of one of her notebooks, and his eyes dart toward her every couple of seconds.
“Chrissy—”
“You know, for someone who spends so much time ranting about the status quo, you sure can’t seem to look past skin deep.”
Eddie jerks like she struck him. Chrissy would feel bad if she wasn’t thinking about having to tell her best friend about this in a couple hours. “I see you,” he murmurs, shifting on his feet and not meeting her gaze as he holds out her books for her to take.
When Chrissy sighs, he flinches again. “I don’t think you do,” she says, not sticking around to see how it lands.
She’s got class to get to, and a best friend’s heart to break.
Chrissy snags Steve’s hand before he can walk through the cafeteria’s swinging doors and pulls him the other way. They settle into the same, abandoned classroom in the same, abandoned seats.
“It happened again,” she says, not letting go of Steve’s hand.
He’s still got a bit of polish clinging to his nails, the chipped yellow making him look almost jaundiced with how patchy it is. She uses her own fingernail to chip at it, ignoring the sunshine yellow flakes dropping down to the empty desk separating them.
Steve doesn’t ask what happened again; he doesn’t need to.
“Did you flirt back?” he asks.
Chrissy bites her lip. “I let him carry my books.”
She hadn’t flirted, is the thing, but she hadn’t gotten rid of him either. She knew, no matter how heartbroken he looks across from her right now, he wouldn’t have wanted her to.
“Okay,” he says, like it really is, like he means it. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me!” she snaps, snatching her hands back for a second before the bewildered look on his face has her reaching out again. “What are you thanking me for?”
Steve smiles—it’s small, and sad, and he’s beaming it right into her soul. “For keeping me safe.”
Chrissy groans, dropping her head onto their clasped hands and just keeps groaning. He means it—of course he does. If there’s one thing she’s learned since this whole thing started, it’s that Steve Harrington is somehow, inexplicably, too nice for his own good.
“I love you, you know,” she says, lips brushing against his skin with every word.
She’s been thinking it since he’d called her his best friend in that letter, since he’d said it and she hadn’t said it back. It sits unsaid behind her teeth every time he smiles, or frowns, or anything at all. He’s just too dang easy to love.
When he doesn’t reply, she forces herself to raise her tired head and get a look at his face. His eyes are big and round, mouth hanging open far enough that she’s tempted to close it for him, and there’s a damning sheen to his eyes that makes her own water.
“Really?” he asks, voice cracking. “You do?”
“Of course,” she replies, the way he always does to her, no matter what she asks for.
He smiles again, and it’s big this time, happy and watery around the edges as he says, “love you, too,” leaving the “I” out of the confession like that’ll somehow make the whole thing less real.
They’re smiling at each other like damn fools when Steve’s stomach growls and they dissolve into giggles.
“Buy me lunch?” she asks.
“Of course.” He jumps up from the desk and holds out his hand for her, an unknowing mirror of Eddie this morning.
She doesn’t put her books into his arms, just takes his hand.
PART 7
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“Lewis, Next Door”~ pt 1 Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Warning: age gap, alcohol?
Summary: Coming home from university, Y/N expects a quiet reunion with family—until she finds herself face-to-face with the enigmatic Lewis Hamilton, her dad’s famous neighbor and friend. What starts as a dull evening soon turns unexpectedly electric when Lewis offers more than just small talk.
I hadn’t been home all semester. Between studying, late-night group projects, and the occasional breakdown, the past few months at uni had been… a lot. I’d pushed through, and even though I’d missed my parents, there was something about finishing this term that made me feel a little invincible. I was finally here, though, bags slung over my shoulder as I hugged my mom in the doorway and let my dad ruffle my hair in that way he always did.
Home sweet home.
After the greetings and settling in, I noticed someone else was around. Our neighbor, Lewis Hamilton, was back too. Usually, he was off racing, so it was a rare sight. I wasn’t someone who followed F1 religiously, but I knew Lewis was a big deal—and the whole “dad’s friend” thing only made it more surreal. The few times we’d run into each other, I’d been struck by how effortlessly confident he was. Attractive? Absolutely. Intimidating? Without a doubt. But, honestly, I’d never thought much beyond that. He was just Lewis, the neighbor.
That night, my dad was throwing a big party to celebrate his latest product launch. Fancy guests, fancy decorations, fancy everything—the whole nine yards. I’d barely unpacked, and here I was, getting ready to play dress-up and smile politely for a parade of strangers. My friends were out clubbing tonight, living it up, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. But I loved my dad, so here I was, hair styled, makeup on point, feeling like I’d stepped into someone else’s life for the night.
As the party got into full swing, I did my best to stay interested, though I kept glancing at my phone, imagining my friends dancing somewhere with loud music and neon lights. Instead, I was here, weaving through clusters of my dad’s colleagues. He was chatting with a group of important-looking men, so I took my chance and approached him, feeling like a little kid again as I asked, “Can I please just have one drink?”
He shot me a disapproving look. “No. You know the answer.”
“Fine,” I muttered, trying not to let my frustration show. I wandered around a bit, catching snippets of adult conversation that were all about business deals and tax write-offs. Glamorous.
Finally, I spotted a lonely champagne glass on a table. I glanced around, and with a little thrill of rebellion, I picked it up, taking a sip. It was cold and crisp, and even though I’d never been a huge fan of champagne, it felt like a tiny slice of freedom. A few more sips, and I was actually starting to relax.
That’s when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned, and there he was—Lewis, giving me a knowing smile.
“I see you like my drink?” he teased, eyes glinting with amusement.
My stomach dropped. Oh god, I’d taken his champagne? “Oh my god. I’m so sorry… I didn’t know… I can get you a new one if you want, I just—”
He chuckled, shaking his head. His laugh was low and warm, and something about it made me relax, just a bit. “Nah, I’m messing with you. It’s fine. I don’t even really drink anyways.” He grinned, flashing a glimpse of a gold grill that made him look both mischievous and effortless, a vibe that seemed distinctly Lewis.
I managed a shy nod, suddenly unsure of what to do with my hands. “Oh… good. Thanks.” I couldn’t believe I was so nervous. But he just kept looking at me, his gaze both curious and relaxed.
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “You bored? I’m so bored. No offense to your dad, of course.”
I let out a laugh, surprised at how blunt he was. “It’s boring,” I admitted, feeling a little guilty, but somehow knowing he understood. He had this whole wild, glamorous life, and a party like this was probably as dull as watching paint dry for him.
“So, what? You’re back from uni, huh? That’s crazy. I remember when you were like, ten,” he says, a teasing smile playing on his lips.
I feel my cheeks heat up with a pang of embarrassment. Here I was, feeling all cool and grown up, and he still saw me as a kid. Great.
“Yep,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light but failing to hide the faint annoyance.
“Well, you’re better than me,” he shrugs. “I never finished school.” I glance at him, surprised he’s trying to keep this conversation going. Usually, we barely exchanged two words, and now, here we were, alone, talking like… friends? Something more? I didn’t know.
“Well… yeah, but you’re a millionaire,” I say, trying to sound casual, though there’s a little hint of playfulness in my voice. I’m not exactly flirting, but maybe a little. Just testing the waters.
He raises an eyebrow, smiling at me but seeming almost uncomfortable at the mention of his money. He shrugs again. “You’re not exactly struggling either,” he teases back.
Was… that a flirt? Or was I just imagining it? It’s just the way he said it, the way his gaze lingers a moment longer than it should. My pulse quickens, but I try to play it cool.
“No… not exactly,” I say, catching his hint and matching his tone. I glance around, making a point about how dull this party is. “Just right now.”
He chuckles, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Maybe next time, you come to one of my parties,” he says. It sounds more like a command than an invitation, like he’s decided I’ll be there.
I nod softly, trying to hide the thrill in my expression. He’s really inviting me? He seems amused, almost as if my reaction is endearing.
“Yeah, maybe,” I say with a slight shrug, finishing off the champagne. I feel his eyes on me, and when I look up, he’s studying me, like he’s considering something.
Then he breaks into a grin. “I could give you my number,” he says, casual but direct.
I raise an eyebrow, trying to mask the excitement bubbling up. “Oh?”
“So you can tell me next time you’re bored,” he adds, giving me a cheeky wink.
I feel my cheeks flush as I pull out my phone. He takes it from me, putting his number in. My hands are shaking just a bit when he hands it back.
“There,” he says with that familiar grin. “Now you’ll be set.”
“Cool. Thanks,” I say, somehow managing to keep my voice steady. Inside, though, I feel my heart racing.
He glances back at the party, then back at me, giving me one last wink. “I should probably go talk to your dad. See you around, Y/N.”
And then he’s gone, leaving me standing there, still holding the empty champagne glass, my mind spinning. His number. His number. A part of me feels like I’m floating.
———————————
Oo La La 🙈
Lmk of you like?!!??
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#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x you#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton fic#age g@p
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What's A Soulmate? Part 6
In which things are made official (finally)
Warnings: little angst, social media posts Pairing: Lando Norris x SainzSister!reader Word Count: 1.4k words
- What's A Soulmate? - Part 1 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2.5 - What's a Soulmate? - Part 3 - What's a Soulmate? - Part 4 - What's a Soulmate? - Part 5 - Master List
Monaco May 2024
Sunlight streams in through the partially parted curtains of Lando’s bedroom the next morning. Your entire body is warm, wrapped up in the thick duvet that covers his king sized bed. The soft cotton of the t-shirt Lando gave you last night brushes against your skin, not unlike the way he touched you last night.
He had just popped out to the cafe that was down the block from his apartment to get you breakfast, as he had absolutely nothing other than a few sweet potatoes in his fridge, one of which smelled suspiciously of vodka. The moment alone allowed you to fully soak in the sore feeling that radiated up from between your legs to the rest of your body. The delicious languid stretch that you felt when you moved even just the slightest bit reminded you of how Lando had played your body so well last night, like he’d been worshipping you for his entire life.
You lazily reach for your phone just as you hear the front door click open.
“I’m back.” Lando calls out and you grin, enjoying the way your heart flutters at the sound of his voice, still a little gritty from sleep.
Instagram is your first choice, watching the private stories of your friends from last night, recapping what you had missed after you and Lando ditched the party. And then you come across a suggested post on your feed and your entire world stops for a moment.
“Uh…Lan?” Panic dances at the edge of your voice as stare at the photo.
“What’s wrong?” As he rounds the corner, you see he’s holding two to go coffee cups from the cafe that’s down the street from his condo, a look of concern furrowing his brow when he sees the panicked look on your face.
You flip your phone around to show him the post you’d been sent by a friend in London this morning. It’s a post from an F1 gossip account and it’s a picture from Lando taking you home last night, the two of you very obviously together as more than friends. Embarrassment flames at your cheeks as Lando crosses the room to take a look.
F1GossipNews: Fans in town for the Monaco Grand Prix this weekend caught some interesting shenanigans on the streets of Monte Carlo last night. McLaren driver Lando Norris was spotted outside the Hermitage Hotel last night with none other than Carlos Sainz's little sister and from the several reports we've recieved, they were looking VERY cozy together with Lando even carrying the Spanish McLaren employee at one point. As we all know, these two have been friends for years but have never outright confirmed that they were anything other than just that. We have to wonder what it'll take for these two to go public now??? user928 anyone who follows F1 knows that these two have been in love with each other for YEARS. Thank God they're finally realizing it themselves. user9827 i'll always feel bad for that one girl he dated a few years ago. it feels like there was always 3 people in that relationship. i guess she was right to be jealous >>>user8272 i always heard she was the cause of their breakup. confirmed ig. >>>user0388 oh come on, they've been broken up for TWO YEARS. get a life. touch some grass. user023828 MOM AND DAD MADE IT OFFICIAL. MY LIFE IS COMPLETE.
You hadn’t had a chance to talk about what last night had meant yet and your heart hammered in your chest at the possible rejection. It was still possible that he changed his mind, wasn’t it? That this morning while he had gone out to get breakfast, the space had given him a chance to have second thoughts. You knew that Lando was intensely private about his personal life, hating the way gossip accounts and fans sunk their teeth into any bit of gossip they could get their hands around.
Fans had tried to link the two of you early on when you were friends and Lando always got so angry when that particular rumor would start swirling again. How was he going to react now that this photo, where you both had been identified by name. Sure, you had shared that one photo of his hand low on your back last night but you couldn’t see his face. This was different. There was a video too, attached to the gossip post and you could clearly hear his thick British accent and your unmistakable laugh floating through the background of the video.
Lando sits down at the foot of the bed with your phone in his had. A smirk plays on his face as he watches the video for the third time, hand reaching out to stroke your toes that now sit in his lap. When he looks up though, his smile fades and matches your anxious one.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper, tears threaten to spill.
Lando is fully confused by your reaction. “What do you have to be sorry about?”
“They caught us. I know how private you are, how you don’t want to be linked to anyone unless it’s serious. I should have been more careful, Brenda is going to fucking kill me if you don’t. Oh God, Lan. I’m so sorry.” You ramble, twisting the sheets beneath you out of sheer anxiety.
You remember the rant he went off on before he had started officially dating the girl that ended up ripping you two apart. It had somehow been leaked to the press that they were together and Lando had felt pressured to make it official with her after that. What you didn’t know was that it hadn’t been the press that had made him feel pressured, it had been the girl. She had pushed and pushed, saying that it would ruin her reputation if nothing came of the gossip posts and he had just gone along with it.
“Hey, there’s no need to panic. Come here.” Lando reaches out to gather you up in his arms, smiling at the fact that you’re still wearing the t-shirt he had given you last night before you two fell asleep. “Why are you freaking out? It’s fine if the press publishes this stuff.”
“I just…” You struggle to comprehend what he’s saying to you. He’s not mad? “I just know how much you hate the press in your private life. How angry you got when they found out about…her. We hadn’t talked about what this means and I just didn’t want you to feel forced or anything.”
Lando pulls you further into his lap, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. God, this was his favorite place now, with how soft the skin at your neck is and always smelling like your perfume no matter the time of day. He was so glad he got to fully indulge in it now and didn’t have to hide how deep his feelings for you were.
“I do hate the press in my private life, you’re right but I also very much want to shout from the rooftops that I finally get to kiss the love of my life whenever I want. I’m sorry if I didn’t make it clear to you last night, but you’re it for me pretty girl.” He leans in then, brushing your temple with his lips before dragging them down the line of your jaw, fingers gripping at your hips to pull you even closer. “It’s always been you, pretty girl. Always. Be mine forever?”
“You don’t even have to ask, Lan. I’ve been yours for a long time now.”
If your heart could have exploded in your chest, you wouldn’t have been surprised. You hadn’t really known, hadn’t really realized how much you’d needed to hear Lando say those words until now. You’d spent the better part of five years shoving your feelings for him down so deep in a desperate attempt to accept the fact that maybe all you two would ever be was friends. It was dizzying knowing that that wasn’t going to be the case now and you struggled to wrap your head around it.
“I can’t go around telling you how much I love and adore you in private and hide those feelings in public. I don’t want to.” To emphasize his point, he grabs his phone out of his back pocket and swipes to open Instagram. You watch with mild amusement as he scrolls through some of the photos he took last night before he lands on one where he’s got you slung over his shoulder, not unlike the gossip post, but this one is in his hallway after he took you home. He types out a caption before handing it over to you for your approval.
Laughter spills out of your lips as you read it before you look up at him. “This is quite bold, are you sure you want to be this…open?”
Lando nods, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’m about to be so obnoxious about the fact I finally landed you. How else is everyone in the paddock going to know you’re spoken for now? Max fucking Verstappen better stop texting you now or else I’m going to run him into the bloody wall on Sunday.”
“Lando Norris!” You scold, swatting him on the shoulder while you both dissolve in giggles.
“Go on, I know you want to post something too. Although I suspect that story you posted last night of me and you in the elevator was what sparked people to look for other clues. They’ve been trying to ship us for years.”
You blush under the accusation but you know it’s all in good fun. Fear and anxiety gone from your body you reach for your phone again to make your own post. Lando gives his nod of approval and you both post the photos simultaneously and then grinning, you leave your phones in the bedroom as you enjoy the rest of your morning before you have to be on track later for media day.
You two didn’t earn the nickname Chaos Gremlins for nothing.
LandoNorris Confirmed. (tagged: LittlestSainzSis, F1GossipNews) CarlosSainz you'd better take care of her or else you'll end up in a gravel pit. LittlestSainzSis love you darling >>>(liked by landonorris) McLaren IT'S ABOUT TIME >>>user928 even admin knew these two idiots were in love before they did. user0292 oh my GOD he tagged the gossip account. HAHAH >>>user92828 he is down BAD for our girl user0332 if you look closely in the background, you can see me laying down in the middle of the highway. >>>user928 srsly. this post called me single in seven different languages. user02828 god they're so hot together
LittlestSainzSis cat's out of the bag, ig ;) (tagged: LandoNorris) user0292 god they're perfect LandoNorris love you, pretty girl >>>(liked by littlestsainzsis) McLaren our favorite papaya couple finally official!! >>>user0383 admin's been rooting for this ship just as much as the rest of us. user029921 legit the hottest looking couple on the grid, fight me.
the end.
IDK why half of the tag list isn't working but if for some reason you're not being tagged (it says you are when I'm editing the post but it doesn't show up live when I publish it) make sure your settings are fixed on your end or maybe it's just bc i'm a new blog and i can't tag this many? idk but i'll keep trying to fix it!! you can also turn on post notifs for me if you want!)
Tag List: @anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @powerfulmess @technicallypleasanttree @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @unknownmystery22 @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream
#f1#formula 1#lando norris#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader
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Seeing the Maddie gif just reminded of all the wasted potential and storylines they could have had with Tommy and the bucktommy relationship. Because let's face it, for all of the mains it's the same storyline over and over again - we're not learning anything new about them. But then here we have a character who we sort of already know, who they've teased us with a bit of his history and it was like finally! A chance for something new! We could have learned more about his family, maybe see how Buck reacts meeting his father and then having to deal with his homophobic reaction to him, the man he loves and their relationship. He clearly sounded like he didn't have a lot of close friends/family/support outside of Buck - we could have explored that, have Buck be there for his man and show him how, you have me and the 118. We never got to see the whole "dating a fellow first responder and the challenges that come with that" - we've seen Buck in the hospital so many times, it would have been interesting to see Tommy in that hospital bed and Buck having to deal with the one being by the bedside for once, worrying about someone he loves, maybe making him fully appreciate everything his family had gone through in the past when HE was the one injured (like all the effort Maddie went into to look after him). We could have had Tommy and Eddie bonding over war stories - was Tommy discharged due to DADT? If so, we could have had conversations with Karen, who also was affected by that. Hell, if they were gonna do the stupid "he was engaged to Abby for two years" story, have Chim and Hen be like, dude, you were working with us all that time, how did we not KNOW (that story still makes no sense - he never mentioned her name to them? Because if he did, surely it would have clicked when they met her in S1 "oh, you're Tommy's Abby". But Tim acknowledged he retconned their relationship from an ex-boyfriend to ex-fiances so he clearly doesn't care.)
But most of all, despite being together for SIX MONTHS, we never saw Tommy and Maddie interact. Maddie was clearly excited for Buck ("tell me about the hot pilot"), she's married to Tommy's old friend, there was the perfect opportunity to see them start to bond over family dinner or something. We've never seen Maddie really click with any of Buck's LI's before, so it would have been nice to see Buck's whole world start to come together. And it could have led to family orientated stories for Buck for once - we always assume he wants kids because he says he loves kids and we see that with Chris, Jee etc. There could have been discussions for the first time about Buck's future - does he see himself getting married, having kids (and ugh, so annoyed that the first time Buck mentions the possibility of getting married is 30 seconds before his heart is crushed).
And that's not even going into the small things I wanted to see on-screen. I knew we were never gonna get anything too intimate - 911 is a bit prudish, they don't really do sex scenes, especially not since the first season, and hell, all their other main couples barely kiss as it is. But things like holding hands as they're walking down the street, talking about their day while making dinner together, waking up in bed together - small little domestic things that show how their relationship is developing. SHOW it developing. (Because while the snippets they showed of their relationship showed that they were growing more comfortable as a couple, a lot of that development happened off screen.)
This was the first time in a long time, maybe ever, that we saw Buck truly happy (that man was GLOWING, even covered in boils). For the first time, we could have seen his story GROW, instead of doing the same lather, rinse, repeat that has happened in all his relationships (Buck falls for someone, goes too hard too fast, they abandon him, he doesn't bother fighting for the relationship). We could have finally had a sprinkling of new storylines (Tommy wasn't a main, we obviously weren't going to get a hell of a lot, but if Karen can have her own stories/backstories, so could he). All that down the drain for what, Buck 1.0 again? Him jumping back on that hamster wheel of "find new love interest, it goes nowhere, he's single again". It's boring, and this show is on its 8th season - not only has this been played out for too long, who knows how much longer the show is gonna last. If it only goes until say season 10, that would have been two and a half seasons worth of seeing Buck be able to grow, get the love he always wanted (hell, maybe even get engaged, finish the series with a wedding implying he gets his happily ever after). Buck is only one member of an ensemble cast - they can't focus on him every episode, so two years is plenty of time to draw out only a handful of fresh stories. After 8 season, keeping him perpetually single for this long only works if he's always been played as like Joey off Friends - someone who is happy playing the dating game, not looking to go anywhere. Except Buck has been shown to be looking for love all this time - he doesn't want that single life (he doesnt want to "explore" Tim - screwing random men and women isnt going to help him find that love he's always wanted, especially when he already had it). But instead, they take it away from him AGAIN, and now they're back to square one. Sigh.
There’s so much i agree with here! They’ve tried to cram soooo many storylines into each episode that there’s no room to breathe. Everything feels stunted and half-assed. Tim said they didn’t want to ignore everything that happened at the end of 7, wanted to pick it back up, but they spent these first few episodes either destroying the storylines they built on, or ending them so abruptly it doesn’t feel satisfying. Nothing feels connected anymore. In early seasons you’d have them all working together on certain major storylines, but I’d doesn’t really feel like that happens now outside of calls. And the calls are so quick (besides the damn plane) that you don’t really connect with that either.
It would have been nice to see tommy and buck develop more, nice to see him involved with the group instead of just Eddie, nice to see them keep their word and try to make this love interest different from the rest. They did none of that.
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hey i was wondering if i could request a pau cubarsí x reader. maybe one where he gets jealous of a guy hitting on the reader or talking to her at the balon d’or? thank you, i love you and your work ♥️
Love Between… — Pau Cubarsí.
Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader
Summary: In which you make it clear Pau is all you want.
Word Count: 530+
Disclaimer/s — Guy, just comfort/fluff really!
A/N: The summary lowk doesn’t even fit but whatever I guess. First of all, thank you so much??? I love you :3 This was beautiful. I hate this but I don’t at the same time, soooo. Soz.
Smoothing down the hem of your dress with your free hand, you stood close to Pau, whose pinky was still, to your surprise, interlocked with yours.
It wasn’t anything stressful. He knew what he was doing and you were just there. Pau and his tendency to be attentive was something you’d grown to love. Then, suddenly, “There’s Lamine!”
At the sound of your quiet voice, the boy looks down at you before looking up, meeting the gaze of his friend you had just pointed out. “I’ll say hi to him later. Are you thirsty? I’m sure they’ll have water bottles around here somewhere,” he says.
“I’m okay. Go talk to him—I’ll be fine. I’ll manage.”
“I don’t know…” he drawls. “Do you want to come with me? He’ll want to talk to you. You can, I don’t know, maybe congratulate him or something.”
Rolling your eyes at his insistence, you poke his arm. “Pau, please, have your moment with him.”
“I—okay! Okay. I’ll… be back before you know it.”
While he walks away, the Yamal boy starts talking to him the second he spots him. You see the way your boyfriend’s smile widens when he hands him his trophy. You loved him so much. It was insane.
Before you have the chance to keep your gaze fixated on them, you hear a voice catch your attention. “I’m sorry, excuse me, are you lost?”
“Oh. Oh!” Awkward, okay. Haha. “No, I’m not—”
“‘Cause I can show you around if you’d like. I know this place like the back of my hand, y’know.”
“That’s nice… I’m not lost. Thank you, though!”
His expression drops and he nods, but your answer doesn’t stop him from continuing. How disappointing. “Did you come here alone?”
Can Pau come back? “No, I’m here with my—”
“She’s here with me.” Oh, thank God.
Stiffening, the man purses his lips. “Ah, I see. You two have a good rest of your day and… goodbye.”
Watching him depart, Pau looks over at you and frowns. “Odd of him. What did he want?”
“To know if I was lost,” you answered honestly.
“He was looking at you weirdly. Are you okay?”
“I didn’t see how he looked at me, but I’m fine. He offered to show me around or whatever, I refused. I was about to mention that I was here with my boyfriend—you, and that’s when you stepped in.” You fidgeted with your fingers. “Thank you for that, by the way. He just came out of nowhere.”
“Didn’t he? I left you alone for, like, a second.”
That gets a laugh out of you, and you warmly loop your arm with his. “Have I mentioned how glad I am that you came in when you did? Seriously.”
He smiles and shakes his head. “You haven’t.”
“Well, in that case, I’m glad you came in when you did. So… how about that water! I’m a bit thirsty.”
“Water, okay,” Pau hummed, placing his other hand on your arm. His cheeks flush when you lean into him and begin to walk around in hopes of finding your beverage, that’s if you guys could.
You couldn’t, however, you both pulled through.
Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.
DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby + @sakashq ! ౨ৎ
#pau cubarsí#pau cubarsí x reader#pau cubarsí x fem!reader#pau cubarsí x you#pau cubarsí x y/n#pau cubarsí fluff#pau cubarsí comfort#pau cubarsí blurb#pau cubarsí imagine#pau cubarsí oneshot#pau cubarsi#pau cubarsi x reader#pau cubarsi x fem!reader#pau cubarsi x you#pau cubarsi x y/n#pau cubarsi fluff#pau cubarsi comfort#pau cubarsi blurb#pau cubarsi imagine#pau cubarsi oneshot#request#jilval#love between… - kali uchis
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“Want me to teach you?”
𐙚Summary: You’re hogwarts good girl and Mattheo sees you at a party, leading to him teaching you how to give somebody(him) a blowjob.
𐙚Content warning: partying, hints at Mattheo having a crush on reader for awhile, blowjob, overall kind of vanilla, possible dubcon(Both Mattheo and reader are drunk.), Soft Mattheo, again, very vanilla!, 18+ ONLY, MDNI
You stumbled your way into the empty classroom, the other man kicking the door closed with his foot as the two of you’s tongues fought for dominance. Your heart beating unimaginably fast in your chest. You feel his soft grasp on your waist as you two pulled back for air.
A grin formed on his face as he looked at your flush face and already kiss swollen lips. “You have no idea how long i wanted this.” He said before kissing you again, not giving you a chance to respond.
Maybe it was a good thing you came to this party instead of studying tonight..,
You take a deep breath as you walked into the crowded party. Already feeling the blisters forming on your feet from the heels you were wearing, The loud music blaring, you recognized the song as ‘Talk dirty’ by Jason Derulo. You rolled your eyes at the obscene words of the song as you squeezed your way past the groups of dancing students from various houses. Exams were coming up which means you typically wouldn’t be skipping your nightly studying, however tonight was a special exception. After the upcoming exams next week, it’s graduation. These are your final two weeks that you’ll ever be spending here at hogwarts. The thought put a deep, never ending pit into your stomach. Over the years hogwarts has became your home, the thought of not eating breakfast in the great hall while talking with your friends felt like a bizarre, ‘never happening’ thought. You couldn’t imagine not hearing Draco and Harry getting into their daily arguments and scuffles during classes. And most of all, you’ve grown used to these people, especially one certain boy.
You made your way over to the drinks. The thoughts of graduating made your stomach do flips that you desperately wanted to drink away. You combined a bit of each drink, making the drink look a brownish colour. You swished it around in the cup as you stood there. Your eyes sweeping over all the students you could manage to see.
You didn’t see him, the one guy you wanted to see the most. You knew you shouldn’t be too worried about it. He never missed a party, but what if he suddenly wanted to focus on his studies instead? or maybe he saw you and he left? maybe he actually couldn’t stand you?
Before you managed to get too caught up in your thoughts you saw your friend Angelina Johnson coming over, she was wearing a low cut black dress with a deep v neck, her toned, thin body on display. The sweat that formed on her body and the lights from the party together made her skin glow with a variety of colours. You suddenly felt overdressed as you looked down at your own light baby blue silk dress that covered your thighs and stomach.
“Girl! you came, i knew you wouldn’t miss this.” She said as she stumbled over to you, drink in hand.
“Yeah. Just felt weird to stay in my dorm studying all night when i might not even see any of these people again.” You said with a chuckle as you took a sip of your drink. It sent a tingling sensation down your throat and into your body. You haven’t drank in a while, probably since last year’s Christmas party.
“I get it.” Angelina agreed as she topped up her own drink. “I’m glad you came.” She added genuinely with a smile before grabbing your wrist with a grin, “But you are NOT staying here all night.” She added, already pulling you with her, ignoring the other bodies in her way as you muttered apologies when you guys bumped into people. Accidentally knocking some peoples drinks onto the floor, causing you and Angelina to giggle as the two of you rushed further away in the direction of your friends.
You finally reached all your other friends who were further off towards the left of the room. You said hello to your friends before taking another sip of your drink, the overall atmosphere getting to you as you started to enjoy yourself more.
As time went on you started loosening up, drinking more, dancing with your friends. The loud music having a variety of different songs that matched the atmosphere. Other students slowly started leaving to the dorms or washrooms to hook up. Draco was making out with Astoria against the wall like a duo of horny dogs. And that’s where you spotted him.
Mattheo Riddle. The infamous ‘prince’ of Slytherin, son of the dark lord. a bit of a tit, or ‘manwhore’ as your friends call him. Constantly attending parties instead of studying. Constantly having new ‘girlfriends’. A complete asshole to others.
Well atleast that’s how others describe him. they weren’t exactly wrong, but you personally never had any bad experiences with him. He could be tit, yes, but he was never necessarily rude. He was kind of nice in a way. In a charming way. The perfect amount of Goofy, nice, and cold. Not Fred and George Weasley level of goofy. Not Neville Longbottom level of nice. Not Theodore Nott level of cold. The way his hair was always perfectly curled. His perfect white teeth that lit up the room when he smiled. Or maybe it’s just because you’ve had a big, fat, tv school girl type crush on him since second year.
He was leaning against the side of the fire place, Next to Astoria and Draco. He was alone though, no girl practically dry humping his leg this time. From where you stood you had the perfect view of his side profile as he lit up a cigarette, struggling slightly to get the lighter to work properly. His red solo cup resting on the top of the fireplace next to him. It was like everyone else in the room was nonexistent as you admired the man just a mere couple feet away from you. You didn’t realize your staring until you were forced out of your daze with a rough nudge to your shoulder.
“Seriously? daydreaming about the dark lords son?” Angelina joked light-heartedly as she glanced over in Mattheos direction. You blushed as you looked at her and back to Mattheo.
“Uh- No… just noticed him, that’s all.” You brush off. Rubbing your arm uncomfortably with the humid temperature of the party. You couldn’t help but sneak another glance at Mattheo as you swore you saw him look at you out of the corner of your eye.
“Good. You could do so much better than the local slytherin manwhore.” Angelina joked, before standing up from her spot on the little bench, pulling you up with her. “Come on girls! let’s dance instead of sit around like a bunch of bums, last party ‘till graduation.”
And then the night went on. You danced for what felt like forever with your friends. completely forgetting about the fact you’re all going to need to grow up in a couple weeks. That some of you were moving to completely different countries soon after graduation. You all just enjoyed each other’s company, talking to some of the other students that you guys were friends with but not tight nit. Gradually different girls in your friend group dispersed, going off with random guys or their boyfriends to hook up. until eventually it was just you, Angelina, and now Fred.
Fred and Angelina were grinding against each other as you took a quick break from dancing, downing another drink. Your body was feeling lighter now. Angelina was drunk as fuck, Fred almost just as drunk. You stumbled slightly as you made your way back over to the two drunks. Angelina reached out and pulled you closer, “Dance with uss,” She slurred out. You chuckled as you entertained her idea, dancing with them.
You were enjoying yourself before you felt hands firmly plant themselves onto your hips and your back come into contact with a the taller mans upper body. Causing you to freeze slightly. You blushed as you felt them grind themselves against you in sync with your previous dancing. You never did anything like this before so you internally panicked, looking at Angelina for help. But she only grinned, giving you a reassuring nod. you knew what she was saying: ‘Just go with it!’. So you listened, hesitantly moving your hips again. You took it as a good sign to continue when the grip the stranger had on your hips tightened ever so slightly.
You attempted to copy Angelinas movements as you started to feel yourself. That was until you heard a voice, the stranger leaning down to whisper in your ear with an amused tone: “Never knew the ‘hogwarts good girl’ could dance like this.”
Your eyes widened and heart beat picked up as you registered the voice. You knew that voice. “M-Mattheo..?” You stuttered out as you looked up at him wide eyed. Face flushing. His breath smelled heavily of Alcohol and cigarettes. You could faintly smell his go to ‘Dior sauvage’ cologne that you were forced to smell every day in the morning for three years.
“The one and only sweetheart.” He flirted, turning you around so that you face him. You feel his hard-on through his pants. You couldn’t muster a word as you stared in admiration and nervousness. This is your first time being so close to him. “What? cat got your tongue?” He teased with a smirk.
You blinked at his words before shaking your head, “No- no.. just surprised.” You attempted to say more casually, though it instead came out shy and timid. You finally looked down from his face, glancing at the silver chain locket around his neck with the Slytherin snake symbol decorating it, the black t-shirt he was wearing underneath a thin black button up jacket. You flinched lightly as you felt his hands start to run up and down your waist.
He chuckled at your response before asking; “Wanna head off somewhere else?” with a smirk. You knew what he was suggesting. It felt like everything was a dream. But at the same time you didn’t want him to expect too much from you. so you blurted out;
“I never did anything like this before.”
And that leads to your current situation. In a random, empty classroom in a heated make out session with Mattheo. You clench your thighs together in excitement. Your stomach doing little cartwheels as you pulled away again for air. You chuckled nervously as Mattheo started littering kisses along your jaw and down to your neck. You grinned softly, biting your lip as you got your breath back, hand resting on his shoulder as you glanced down at his bundle of curls. You were nervous. You heard stories about what it’s like to do things with him. That he’s rough, sadistic, and so on. All the things you didn’t want for trying anything remotely sexual for the first time, but now you couldn’t care less. perhaps it was just the alcohol in your system messing with your thinking. Either way you couldn’t help the giddy feeling you had while Mattheos’ kisses trailed along your collarbone until it stopped right in the middle. He pulled back and admired your dress, finger tracing along the ruffles at the very bottom of the dress.
“Cute dress,” He mumbled, standing up properly again, making you have to arch your head up to see his face. Your face flushed more -if it was even possible- as you stumbled over your words but eventually got out a small ‘Thank you’.
He grinned as his fingers gently ran across the outline of your face. This wasn’t the Mattheo that you heard others described, and you couldn’t help but notice the softness in his eyes as he admired your appearance. You quickly pushed the thought away the possibility of him liking you, you ‘were just another one of the girls he was gonna hook up with’ you thought. Perhaps the look in his eyes was just from the alcohol in his system. Or maybe he could tell how drunk you were. You only got knocked out of your thoughts when he asked you a question:
“Have you never even given a blowjob before?” Mattheo asks, his hand falling from your face and instead resting on your hips as his other hand rested on the desk next to you.
You glanced down, embarrassed as you bit the inside of your cheek. You felt ridiculous, you were nine-teen fucking years old and you’ve never even sucked a guy off yet, the most basic of stuff. You tried telling yourself that it wasn’t that big of a deal, but you couldn’t deny the pang of embarrassment that you felt when you had sleepovers with your friends and couldn’t relate with anything they said while talking about boys. Mattheo seemed to read your body language though as he chuckled and responded despite your lack of an answer.
“No?” he asked amused, tilting your head up to look at him again. “Want me to teach you?” he asked, grin plastered on his damned, handsome face. You swallowed in anticipation and nerves while nodding.
He wasted no time in picking you up off the table and turning the both of you around, switching the two of you’s places. “Get down on your knees sweetheart,” He told you as he pushed you down gently, his hand on your shoulders. You did as you were told, pushing the skirt of your dress up slightly so that you weren’t pulling it down by your knees.
Mattheo smirked down at you as he took his jacket off, going at a teasingly slow pace as he placed it behind him. With the jacket off you could see the shirt he had underneath. The sleeves stopping just at his elbows, showing off his muscular forearms. Fuck was he hot. You weren’t sure what to do next as he leaned against the desks, hands resting behind him which held him up. He chuckled with an amused grin before saying; “You can undo the belt princess,”
You nodded, reaching up as you attempted to undo his belt. Feeling nervous to touch him, attempting to take the belt off while acting like you’re walking on eggshells. Mattheo struggled to hold back a laugh as he moved his hand to help you take the stupid belt off, slapping your hands away as he undid the belt himself. “You can pull a zipper down at least, right?” He asked with a smirk.
You smiled at his words, rolling your eyes as you mumbled out a yeah. taking the zipper into your fingers as you unzipped his black jeans. looking up at him as he simply nodded. You pulled his pants down slightly, leaving them at the middle of his thighs. You looked up nervously, and feeling slightly awkward as he watched you. Considering the fact you never did this before you were scared to progress. Holding the waistband of his boxers hesitantly. You couldn’t help but bite your lip to hold back a laugh as Mattheos own laugh resounded throughout the empty classroom. His hand gently playing with your hair as he spoke: “You don’t have to be so nervous, just pull the boxers down.” He said amused, causing yourself to let out a laugh, his attitude doing a surprisingly good job at making you feel more comfortable.
You shuffled his boxers down, his cock jumping free from its restraints and up against his clothed stomach. You gulped slightly at his size, about… 7 inches, But… how was that supposed to fit into your mouth?? “Uh… i don’t need to like… take the whole thing?” You asked for reassurance. getting more embarrassed as the absurd question escaped your lips.
You could tell Mattheo was enjoying every minute of this as you looked up at his charming smile as he let out another bark of laughter at your words. “Nah, you don’t gotta worry about that princess,” He said, easily holding eye contact as he played with a strand of hair. “I’ll train you for that another time,” He added. his words laced with arrogant confidence that he would do so. You rolled your eyes at his choice of words and tone, wanting to say something back but biting it back as Mattheo spoke again.
“It’s better if you start off with a little handjob.” Mattheo started, tone calm and patient. “Use your spit as a type of lube and it’ll feel 10 times better for any guy.” He instructed with a grin. You nodded, going to follow his instructions but you couldn’t help the awkward chuckle that escaped you, glancing up at Mattheo as you gripped him in your hand. You could feel how hard he was, his cock twitching slightly at the feeling of your colder hand wrapping firmly around the base. Mattheo too, chuckled. “What? i’m not gonna judge you,” He teased playfully. pulling your hair that out from the front of your face and onto your back.
You just awkwardly grinned before spitting the built up saliva from your mouth onto your hand, wrapping it around Mattheos cock. With an experimental flick of your wrist you spread the spread the spit around the base of his cock. You figured what you were doing was good when he let out a slight grunt and you saw his hand tighten around the desk. You gradually brought your hand up, blushing slightly as his cock twitched in your hand. You continued your movements, replicating what you’ve read from inappropriate books of girls in similar situations, spreading some of the spit around the swollen tip of his cock with your thumb. You could tell you were doing good by the way his breath hitched in his throat, his breathing picking up as his hips bucked into your touch, and the praise falling from his lips.
“Shit- you’re doing good. keep doing that but go a little faster.” Mattheo says, his grip on your hair tightening slightly. You listened, going faster as you cringed slightly at the feeling of the spit being spread around on your hand. You couldn’t help but reach your hand inbetween your thighs to help relieve some of the painful arousal, palming yourself through your soaked panties. You relished at the occasional moan or grunt that left his mouth and his laboured breathing.
Usually, at this point in the perverted books you’ve read, the girl would start to use her mouth. You weren’t sure if you should just go for it or wait. Trusting your gut you placed an experimental kitten lick along the side of his shaft, making him let out a breathy moan, his hand going to place itself gently on your hair, fingers entangling themselves with your hair.
You did the same thing along his entire shaft up to his tip. His fingers tightening around your locks of hair. “Try taking it into your mouth now,” He said, looking down at you. You bit your lip slightly as you let out a quick snort of laughter at his words, not being able to take this too seriously as the alcohol in your system was making everything ten times funnier.
“C’mon don’t be scared.” He teased, grinning at your laughter. His hand pushing your head slightly to edge you on. You just grinned slightly, glancing up at him.
His face flushed slightly as he bit his cheek, looking down at you. chest slowly going up and down. You watched as his arms flexed as you took him into your mouth, gagging as you quickly felt him go farther into your mouth than you’ve ever felt before. Stopping at just half his length before you were attempting to pull back. His hand held your head in place for a couple seconds before letting up, his hand falling back to his side. A ‘pop’ sounded in the room as you pulled back, coughing and wiping the bit of spit that seeped out from the corners of your mouth. You could feel the slight stretch of your mouth at the edge of , it was an uncomfortable feeling.
He smiled down at you recovered yourself. “Was that ok?” He asked, his tone patient. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable and that everything was going at an ok pace for you.
You smiled up at him as you nodded. “I can continue,” You said eagerly. Waiting for him to agree as you grasped him in your hand again. slowly going up and down with your hand.
He nodded down at you, “Yeah. Try using your tongue a bit more while going…. uh.. up and down, yeah?” He asked, not sure exactly how to explain it. You smiled in response, taking him into your mouth again. It was easier to do this time though you could still only take about half of him. You let your tongue slide against the bottom of his shaft along a vein as you (attempted) to bop your head. the unfamiliar movement feeling awkward to do as you placed your hand on his thighs for support.
“Yeah shit- like that.” He said, his hand again finding solace on your head again. his hips gently thrusting into your mouth. Making you gag slightly. “Use your hand on the bit you can’t fit into your mouth-“ He said through moans, his voice sounding more desperate now. You followed what he said, your hand gripping the bit of his cock that you couldn’t fit into your mouth as you jerked him off slightly.
You took his increasing moans and tightened grip on your hair as a sign that you’re doing good as you continued your movements. Gagging slightly as you struggled to breathe through your nose, eventually needing to pull away as you coughed slightly. You decided to replace the absence of your mouth with your hand as you caught your breath.
“You’re doing good for your first time,” Mattheo commented with a smirk, his face flushed. His hand moving down to wipe the spit from your face. “You sure you’re not lying to me?” He asked. Looking at you with slight, playful skepticism.
You bit your lip slightly in embarrassment as you admitted without fully thinking: “I read books… and watched a couple videos.”
Your face flushed in embarrassment at your sudden admission, taking in Mattheo’s reaction as his eyes widened slightly before quickly being replaced with amusement. “I knew you were a little too good of a student.” He teased with a smirk, hand going back to your hair as he pulled slightly, “Now c’mon. You’re supposed to be giving a blowjob. Not a handjob.”
You then continued. Attempting to get used to the full feeling in your mouth along with needing to breathe through your nose. Your jaw slowly starting to ache. Mattheo started pushing your head further down his cock, making you gag around him which seemed to only turn him on more. “Fuck… can’t wait to train your throat another time.” He said through a mix of a moan and groan. His words didn’t fully process through your lust and alcohol clouded brain. “You mind if i help you a little bit? hm?” He asked, hand twirling your hair into more of a makeshift ponytail. You just nodded as much as you could in response to his words. looking at him with lust-over, wide eyes.
He grinned as he bit his lip as you looked up at him, chuckling slightly. “Fuck yeah.., knew you’d agree.” He mumbled as he gripped your hair into a more firm grip as he started moving your head back and forth by your hair. With Mattheo controlling your movements you could focus more on trying to add to the pleasure with your tongue. swirling it around his cock as you placed small ‘kitten lick’ like flicks on the tip when he pulled you back.
You could only take it as he face-fucked you eagerly. And god was his sounds divine. His American accent making his random mumbles of curses or praise hotter, “Shit.. taking this like a champ, surprisingly.”
Or the occasional, every once in a while, quick whimpers that’d escape up his throat and out of his mouth. You just felt dizzy with excitement not only at what you’re doing- but the sudden revelation that he may like you too, or even that he chose you to hook up with of all girls. Your hands rested on his thighs as they started to flex more and more often, as well as his moans increase in pitch slightly.
Mattheo pulls you off his cock as he came. Not sure of your boundaries yet so he didn’t want to do anything too…. kinky?
You quickly started trying to fill your lungs with oxygen as you coughed softly, not as bad as the last two times though. You watched as Mattheo came, jacking himself off through it as his cum spurted out onto his shirt and hand.
You flinched as you felt something land on your face, blinking as you reached your hand up to touch at the sticky liquid on your face. Mattheo too noticed as his eyes widened slightly, quickly moving his hand to your face, wiping the cum off with his thumb. “Shit- sorry..” He said.
What you did next you weren’t sure if it was because you were genuinely curious, or too drunk to think properly. You held his wrist in place as you licked the cum off his thumb, grin plastered on your face as you took in his reaction. His cum tasted kind of salty and bitter, though not the worst thing you’ve tasted. Mattheo watched in shock combined with amusement as he grinned. “Well? how did it taste?” He asked, looking down at you as he shoved himself back into the confines of his pants. Amused at your actions. clearly he underestimated how much of a freak you really were.
You just grinned up at him as you let go of his wrist. “I’d take that over cottage cheese,” You said with a soft giggle as you were pulled up back to your feet by Mattheo. wobbling slightly as you got used to needing to stand on your feet.
Mattheo kept his hand in yours as he smiled at you, wiping the spit and small bits of his cum still on your face off. “Should i keep that in mind for our date?” He said, tone half confident and questioning. Though before you could hear anything you heard an all to familiar voice from the hallway,
“This Classroom, Now.” The voice that you both recognized as Severus Snape said, voice inching closer to the door of the room you two were in. You and Mattheo shared a glance before you both quickly went and hid behind a pile of random class stuff. Perfectly hiding the two of you when you sat.
You two glanced at each other as you both grinned before jumping slightly as the door to the class slammed open and then closed. “Sit.” Severus Snape demanded as he walked dangerously close to the two of you. “The amount of times i have caught you two doing some type of obscenity in public is As.tro.nom.i.cal.” Snape spoke, putting pointed emphasis on ‘astronomical’.
“We’re teenagers being teenagers, what else would you expect?” The voice of a student said. You and Mattheo both shared a glance as you both stifled back chuckles, recognizing the voice. Fred Weasley, which most likely meant the other student was Angelina. You could practically hear the grin on Freds face.
“Teenager or not i expect you to have some decency.” Snape spat out, strictness and annoyance in his tone. “Especially since you’re only here for two and a half more weeks.” Snape added, putting emphasis as he spoke ‘two and a half.’ You covered your mouth as you giggled quietly, scooting closer to Mattheo as he moved his arm to make room for you. You two practically cuddling against eachother as you two listened to Fred and Angelina get lectured by Professor Snape.
Mattheo glanced down at you before smiling, genuinely. Whispering down to you: “As i was saying, date tomorrow morning at Hogsmeade? Three Broomsticks?” He asked. Silently hoping in his head that you’ll say yes.
You shared his genuine smile as you nodded excitedly, “Of course.” You tried to whisper back casually, though your tone exposed the excitement coursing through you as you rested your head on his shoulder and smiled like an idiot.
“Though you should probably clean the cum off your shirt.”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Written by ankoluvly, 2024 on tumblr! please do NOT repost on anything.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . OML this is longer than i expected it to be, and my first, full length fic EVER. Who would’ve thought it’d be Mattheo, one of the fanon characters that never stood out to me before lmfao.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . This is incredibly vanilla because that’s how i envisioned it, sorry if it’s not your cup of tea 😭😭
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . I already brained up other scenarios based off this lil universe between reader and Mattheo
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Spent awhile on this ngl 🥹 But it was fun to do even if i’m not to proud of it noww
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . FEEDBACK IS *VERY* APPRECIATED, thank you :)
#harry potter#harry potter blog#harry potter x you#౨ৎfic#slytherin smut#smut#mattheo riddle fanfiction#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle#harry potter smut#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle x y/n
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I need to yap desperately about one single gripe I have with this game. MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD read at your own discretion
The first half is me ranting about how much certain things mean to me and how impacted I was, and the actual gripe comes closer to the end.
I'll preface this by saying this post is about Varric's death and my rage and despair regarding it, but more so about my Rook's.
I've seen people who said they picked up on the hints about whatnot, who knew before the Fade Prison. I was not one of those people. I was so relieved when I saw him after the Prologue that I didn't think twice, because I knew that it would destroy me the second shit started going wrong.
I was already not having a good time when I started the game simply because Varric was getting older. I don't handle aging well or death, and his design showing his age, and the comments he would make about "getting too old for this" just made my heart break.
And then shit got worse. I sobbed disgustingly when that knife went into Varric's chest.
After Rook woke up from talking to Solas and she heard Varric, I was so gods damned relieved. And my Rook was better taken care of by Varric in that year she spent with him than she was in the rest of her entire life.
I cried from the end of Ghilan'nain's fight until the romance scene and on and off after that. I got so used to visiting Varric just to be comforted by his presence. Inquisition was the biggest part of my life for a year and a half when I was just a kid.
I did really bad middle school age writing for it but regardless of the quality, those characters were built up in my head becoming even more than they were in the game. Varric was my biggest support character through everything I was going through at the time.
I don't talk about it much, but I didn't have a great childhood, and I know a lot of people didn't, but I coped with it through writing and video games. Varric was the one supporting me through the abuse I suffered and writing was the way I processed how bad things really were.
When Rook was in the prison she said "What am I going to find here?" And Varric said "I think you already know, kid." I DIDN'T until he said that. The second he said that my entire chest tightened and I just said "No" out loud as I watched Rook find his body.
Now for my real complaint!!!
Rook never gets the chance to grieve Varric. They go from talking to him every day to finding out he's dead and it was all a lie. I have personally never been more fucking pissed at Solas than I am now. But Rook comes back and they have that kind of "closing off" scene with Varric's empty bed (which was so hard to go through btw). And then they fuck their pookie LIKE I CANNOT BE THE ONLY ONE UPSET ABT THAT
FYM I gotta find out my dad is dead and then Rook is up for boning like there's no fucking way unless it's to cope. And at least pertaining to the Lucanis romance, Rook is processing everything that happened and they can say "So much has happened, I just don't know how to feel."
And rather than getting to process that in some kind of way, the devs said nah this scene serves one singular purpose, and Lucanis says "I do" and then dicks them down.
Personally, I felt very dismissed despite being overjoyed about finally having the romance scene, I couldn't even enjoy it with everything that happened prior.
Rook deserved the chance to completely break down after everything they went through. Tbh i don't know how they kept it together. Varric said "don't get all misty eyed" and i thought to myself that's way too delicate a term for what's happening here, I was fully ugly crying.
Fuck your "I had a good run" I still need you bitch.
All this to say I'm very upset, and I'm running my second playthrough and every time I look at, hear, or talk to Varric I tear up again. Wtf Bioware.
Rook should've gotten the chance to actually talk about what Solas did to them, especially in the sense that he made them believe Varric was still there. Or at least get to properly grieve the person who was their closest friend for a long time.
I have very strong feelings about this obviously
#dragon age the veilguard spoilers#dragon age the veilguard#datv spoilers#datv#datv varric#dav#dav spoilers#dragon age#dragon age 4 spoilers#dragon age 4#dragon age dreadwolf#dragon age dreadwolf spoilers#dragon age varric#varric#varric tethras#da varric#dragon age the veilguard companions#dragon age the veilguard romance#lucanis#lucanis dellamorte#rook x lucanis#da4 lucanis#dragon age lucanis#lucanis x rook#lucanis romance#lucanis spoilers#taylor’s a yapper 🗣️
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Thinking about the "Do you Feel Safe Tape"
Honestly we should talk about the different reactions to 'who do you trust' a bit more.
Wooly - Wooly seems surprised that you trust him. I couldn't help but think it's partly because we like seem to like Amanda and Amanda hates him. Also considering Amanda doesn't trust him, he probably hasn't had anyone say they trusted him in a very long time and it was probably shocking. Then Amanda tells us she felt that way a long time ago and Wooly looks sad. I've noticed throughout the game that he seems to get sad whenever Amanda talks about not liking him anymore. He gets immediately sad when Amanda says that you have to think about who you can trust, before she even mentions. I think whatever he did to break her trust, he might actually feel really bad about it. (I can point out other moments he's done this too if you want). But what else is interesting is that Amanda trusted Wooly at some point. She didn't hate him from the start, something happened to change their relationship. I can't help but feel it was "recent" considering the events of the first game. Considering both Amanda and Wooly's reactions to Wooly coming back to life, I'd assume Amanda has never hated Wooly enough before to try killing him. When I say recent, I mean possibly during the years that Kate was watching the tapes and talking with Amanda.
Personally, I think both Amanda and Wooly unintentionally played a part in Kate's death and Hameln finding her. Considering Amanda's reactions to us saying "Hameln" I think they might still be monitoring Amanda and Wooly. I think that by interacting very directly with her (saying her name and stuff) could have helped them discover her identity and put her in danger. Which is not directly related to anything in this post (I mean it could be, but I'd need more evidence). That said, it's possible that him getting in the way of them remembering (once they started to gain back their memories) was exactly why she stopped trusting him. . But I think the important takeaway here is she did trust him at some point, and he feels bad that he broke that trust.
Kate: Amanda trusted Kate, and wishes she could still talk to her. Kate was one of the last people who knew Amanda when she was Rebecca. (well, positive relationships at least) Think about it. Sam is MIA. All the other librarians who knew her are DEAD. Any friends she had in school or whatever are definitely full grown adults if they didn't get trapped in the show (idk, like if they were watching it cuz it was their friends show or whatever). Every person we know who knew Amanda is probably dead now. Kate was the last one. Now that she remembers, she keeps saying she wishes she could still talk to Kate whenever we mention her, and Wooly looks like he feels bad. Now that she remembers who she was. Now that she remembers Rebecca, she wants to talk with Kate, maybe the way they used to. That could be why she's so angry with him. Why she tried to kill him AFTER they found Kate died (in the Wooly's birthday tape) but had only hurt him when they realized Riley was watching the tapes and not Kate (in the original in your neighborhood tape). Wooly might've caused her to miss her chance to talk to one of the few people who knew her as Rebecca. That was recent though, I think she lost trust in him over time as he kept blocking her attempts to reach out to Kate
Sam: She says Sam was trusting too, and that can be a mistake. She sounds so sad here, like she is going to cry. I think this confirms that Amanda doesn't hold any malice towards Sam about what happened. She understands that both of them were tricked. So idk, I guess any theories involving Amanda hating Sam for what happened are debunked now?
Hameln: Saying Hameln immediately makes Amanda stop trusting us. Wooly looks scared of Amanda yelling (as always) but I noticed he also looks kind of angry? Offended? Annoyed? I can't really tell cuz the tape gets really blurry. I've seen people say that Wooly doesn't react to the meatman or Hameln, but I think he does it's just more subtle. I don't know what else to say here, the clip goes by so fast.
Meatman: Again, both of them react to this. Amanda immediately gets pissed. And like, reasonably so. I've heard that the game won't let you progress past this point if you do this apparently, so like... the meatman is serious. Wooly looks shocked and then immediately motions at us not to say that. But like, it's a different surprise then when you answer "Wooly" he seems horrified. Like this is a pretty messed up thing to say. I'm not 100% sure what the meatman's deal is but like... both Amanda and Wooly seem to dislike him in the first and second game. Also is it just me or is it kind of odd that they only dislike the butcher? Like, there are variants of him in all the shops in the first game and Wooly and Amanda don't really seem to mind him, but they both don't like being in the butcher's. When only the meatman's buildings appear, Wooly looks pretty concerned, and then really scared when they enter, and asks her to take them someplace else. Amanda has a full-blown meltdown over not wanting to go in and when we enter she screams at us to let her out. I find this scene interesting because I don't think either of them are in control. Wooly is trying to distract her from Kate's death (or at least that's what I think the "something bad happened" means) by going a bit off-script and controlling the story a little. It doesn't seem like he was the one who messed with the stores. Amanda didn't either. What if this was the meatman? Like... punishing them for going off script by like reminding them of his looming presence or whatever? Idk. That whole scene was WEIRD in hindsight. Even though we never enter the butcher shop in the second game, his presence looms over us the entire time. Almost makes me think he's the real one put in their too keep the kids under control. They are both terrified of him after all and he seems to be connected with the surgeon who trapped them in there. Sorry this got a bit on topic but I think I might be getting somewhere.
But let's move on to the answers for the "what scares you" question.
"Amanda" or "you" - Question, has anyone tried Rebecca? I've only seen the answer compilations use "amanda" or "you". Amanda breaks our heart here by being hurt that after all this time we're still afraid of her. Ouch.
Hameln - Amanda gets terrified and says not to bring them up. I think Hameln is definitely watching these tapes.
Meatman - Wooly finally reacts to something, and bro is freaked out. Idk if it's by the mention of the meatman, Amanda's anger or both. Honestly, I have no idea why her anger spells still freak them out. I guess it is pretty scary, but I feel like he should be used to it at this point. Also she can't kill him, so what is he afraid of? He doesn't seem to be worried about being the one who makes her angry anymore, but he still gets freaked out when we do it? Weird. Anyway, I find it interesting that Amanda has spent the whole first game trying to tell us all about what happened, but she draws the line at the meatman and Hameln. Wooly wasn't there to stop her before, and she still didn't want to discuss it. Honestly, it doesn't feel like she's been as eager to tell us much in this game, despite trusting us. I mean she's told us plenty about Sam and Kate, so I don't think it's that she doesn't trust us. I think she doesn't want to remember things about Hameln or the meatman. She wanted to remember who she was, she wanted to remember Sam, she wanted to remember Kate and she wanted to know what happened to her... but somehow she draws the line here. Then we see the glitches of the surgery room and the mouth. I really do agree with the theories that the meatman is connected with the people who put her and Wooly into the show. That said... why is he there? That's what I don't get. I think I might be cooking with my earlier theory though no?
Wooly - Odd. He doesn't even look hurt, just confused. We can clearly see here that Amanda is not at all afraid of Wooly, so like I don't think he's like a Hameln worker. The meatman absolutely is though. We are not hating on the meatman enough guys. DOWN WITH THAT- Anyway.
Actually the whole point of this post was to talk about what Amanda says about how we were a stranger when we met her. I think this is really important to note. Because Amanda knew Kate long before she was Amanda. Possibly before "Amanda the Adventurer" even came to be. Of course Amanda trusted her. But she didn't know Riley. She tells us that she trusts us. This is HUGE. I mean, considering everything Amanda has been through. She barely knows us. She has EVERY DANG REASON not to trust us. Heck, I think that could be what Wooly means when he says she shouldn't talk to strangers. Because "not talking to strangers" doesn't make sense in this context. The viewer is a stranger, but if they didn't ever interact with the viewer they wouldn't have a show so Wooly's comment makes no sense. And yet, despite everything, she trusts us. Wooly looks kinda sad when she says she trusts us, probably because she trusted him once too, now she won't listen to a thing he says.
Then Joanne (I swear to god I got so mad at her in this scene) calls us and Amanda looks kind of sad when she hears that. Then looks really sad when Joanne says "that thing" I think Joanne was referring to the Wooly monster but Amanda doesn't know that. Then the possum appears and they both get really mad at it (and us for letting it mess with them). It's made very clear that both of them genuinely don't know who this guy is. It's funny because usually Amanda is the one asking us to get rid of him but this time it's Wooly.
And then let's talk about how COORDINATED THESE TWO WERE OMG. All it took was a look and a nod and they were already on the same page. If we don't help them, they manage to beat this guy up all on their own and mind you, not a single word is exchanged of a plan, they just work together. They just do it. And they do it so freaking well. Remember my Hameln theory? About how Hameln doesn't want these two on the same team because you know... two kids who can control demons who have every reason to hate Hameln and then there's THIS. When they get along they work so freaking well together. Could you imagine if they both decided to team up with their demons and beat the crap out of Hameln? Is there even a chance to be stood here? Honestly, I was also thinking, I think Hameln picked whoever Wooly is specifically for his avoidant personality, knowing that these two would clash. But clearly they don't have to.
Oh yeah, then they both get pissed AT US. I don't think we've actually seen Wooly get THIS mad at us. Like there was the time in the storybook tape but like he was not this mad. He's like... Amanda level mad here. Then they pick up the possum and throw him in the trash with still very minimal communication and ALL THE COORDINATION.
Then in the version where we do help, Amanda actually agrees with Wooly's sentiment that some strangers CAN be scary. Then without a word they both pick him up and throw him in the trash. BRO THE COORDINATION BETWEEN THESE TWO WHEN THEY WORK TOGETHER IS INSANE I NEED MORE OF IT ITS SO SMOOTH AND PLEASANT TO WATCH. Then Wooly asks if they can go home and Amanda playfully teases him "What are you scared?" Then he kinda makes this face like "yeah kinda" and she's like "c'mon let's go." she sounds a lot less annoyed with his presence then usual. Like still annoyed but also like she's kinda okay with it?
This deserves it's whole entire own post but like... I feel like gradually their relationship has improved over the course of this game. Like Amanda still doesn't trust him, there's still some rough stuff they need to work through, but she's starting to let him in again. Just a little. She's more okay with him being there. And I think people tend to overlook this when they say Wooly is evil. If Wooly was evil, why are they starting to get along again, (I mean they aren't besties again but like it's definitely a start and you can't ignore that.) Shouldn't Amanda continue to hate his guts? Instead she's actually agreed with him on some things, and they've helped each other out a bit. Like I said this is probably going to get it's own post at some point so I'll leave it here for now.
Holy crap did you actually read all this? OMG thanks. I did not realize I wrote so much WOW. BTW, I was watching those "all answers" videos along with a zero-commentary playthrough of the original so like, I'm not pulling this from memory at all.
#amanda the adventurer#amanda the adventurer 2#wooly the sheep#amanda the adventurer wooly#amanda the adventurer theory#maddykpost#ata 2#rebecca colton#sam colton#kate park
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omg you should write something of an example where will has dropped everything for samy
i'd do anything for you
hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will blurb)
when samy struggles with the semester piling up will takes his chances to fly out and surprise her
1.4k words
hiiii on my posting spree fr fr. here’s a little something i wrote up :)) keep sending in requests!!!
au masterlist
samy couldn't do it. she'd been staring at the 8 problem calculus homework for almost three hours now and none of it was clicking. it should've been easy considering she took it in high school, but something about college calculus was 100x harder than what she did a year ago. to make it worse, will was on facetime attempting to help her through the problems, but it wasn't any luck and the tears were growing thicker in her eyes.
"i don't get it. i don't get it. i don't get it," the brunette buried her face into her arms, trying to keep the sobs from escaping.
"you're getting so close, baby. i promise. we can take a break if you want?" will offered through the screen.
she shook her head, "no, i can't. i need to finish this. it's due tomorrow morning and it's already 12:30."
both of them grimaced hearing how late it was already. will had early conditioning tomorrow which meant he needed to be up in five and a half hours, yet here he was on the call trying to help the youngest hughes through her homework.
"well, you're super close to figuring it out. you just need to derive the function," will continued softly.
"that's what i'm doing but it just doesn't make sense. i can't do this," if anyone knew anything about samy it was that she needed to do everything perfectly or else it wasn't good in her eyes. doing homework ended in hell like this sometimes because samy just couldn't pretend like she did it and hope for the best when she turned it in. all of it needed to be correct.
it also didn't help that there was a lot going on. homework, practice, and classes were staring to pile up as mid semester rolled around and the poor girl was definitely drowning in everything. plus, she really wished her boyfriend was there so he would just hold her and tell her it would be okay.
"you can do this, i promise. if you could do it in high school, you can do it now," the blonde encouraged, but he saw the solemn look on his girlfriend's face and the tears. it broke his heart seeing her so upset about the homework.
"i can't, will. i can't do this. i'm so tired from everything. class, practice, homework—i just need a break or something. wish you were here," samy rambled through her frustration. will frowned even more, hating that he wasn't a step away to be able to comfort her and wipe her tears away.
"i know, i wish i was there too. always thinking of you, sweet girl," his little pet name brought a little blush to her cheeks as she wiped her own tears away.
she wouldn't ever ask him to come, especially with his collegiate season fully underway. she just couldn't ask him to do that for her, even if she really wanted to. she also knew he 100% would and samy didn't want will missing anything and getting yelled at by his coach just for her.
"i'm thinking of you, too. i'll figure it out. i should let you go. you have practice in the morning," samy finally realized the time, lifting her head back up and wiping her puffy eyes from the last of her tears. the sight hurt will's heart.
"are you sure? i don't mind staying up," he said.
"i'm sure. i promise. you need sleep. i need sleep," samy nodded firmly.
"okay, well text me if you need anyting else. i love you," the blonde blew a kiss to the phone. samy did the same back before they hung up for the night.
she decided to just give up. it wasn't worth it anymore and she needed sleep. will, on the other hand, felt horrible. he hated that he couldn't be there for her. the blonde glanced at the clock on his desk knowing that in five hours he needed to be up and it definitely wouldn't feel good, but he didn't care.
he looked over at gabe's sleeping figure in his bed. that boy could sleep through anything which was convenient when will was on call for a bit longer with samy. he reopened his computer and clicked into expedia.
would coach kill him? probably. would he sit bench for missing a weekend of practice? definitely. would he get a stern talking to? most likely. did will care? no.
samy obviously needed him and if he was being honest, he needed her too. with that, will started searching for the earliest flight out to michigan in hopes that a weekend surprise would ease all of the tension.
—
the brunette was at her desk again after class. she forfeited that homework and just hoped her professor would give her some grace for attempting the problems. what samy didn't know was hannah busy on her side of the room texting with will about his arrival.
ethan and mark were tasked with picking the blonde up from the airport. they were excited that the younger boy was coming to visit knowing how stressed samy had been the past few days. luckily, gabe and ryan would do their best to cover for will but honestly, the blonde didn't care about the consequences from coach. if they wanted to bench him, they were gonna go ahead and bench him.
hannah quickly jumped off her bed when there was a small knock on the door. samy didn't hear because of her headphones on, so she was oblivious to will poking his head in with ethan and mark behind him, phones recording.
"she's studying," hannah whispered and opened the door wider. will smiled to himself, setting his bag down and carefully reaching out to tap his girlfriend's shoulder.
she turned her head, expecting hannah, but when she caught sight of her boyfriend's large grin she jumped out of her chair.
"holy shit," the girl exclaimed, jumping into his arms without a second though. the others cheered in excitement.
"hi, baby," will continued grinning as he held her tightly.
"what are you doing here? what about practice?" the brunette had a million questions as she pulled back to really take in will's face and his presence.
"skipped them," the blonde said like it wasn't a big deal.
"what do you mean you skipped them? i thought you couldn't skip practice or else you'd get in trouble," she was in disbelief as she glanced over at hannah, ethan, and mark.
"i mean yeah, but you needed me and i felt horrible that i couldn't be there for you," his words softened her expression and she melted back into him.
"you skipped a whole weekend of practice just for me?" the younger hughes wondered, heart feeling full because she's never had anyone say or do that for her before.
"yup. wanted to see my girl," will beamed.
neither of them cared about the others still in the room as they connected their lips into a sweet kiss. the three awed, happy to see the couple so happy, especially samy.
"i love you," the brunette smiled as they pulled away.
"i love you too," will smiled back and that's when mark and ethan decided to be mark and ethan by pouncing on the blonde's shoulders.
"it's good to see you again, man. we've got good things planned for this weekend," mark smirked while samy rolled her eyes at their antics.
"i'm sure. it's good to see you guys too," the blonde laughed along.
samy went to hannah who's lips were turned up into a smirk that she kept that secret for a good 12 hours. "surprised?" the girl wondered.
"very. thanks for getting him here," samy hugged her roommate.
"of course. anything to get you less stressed for a few days," they shared a laugh.
she eyed her boyfriend again and he immediately met her gaze probably feeling her stare on him. the two smiled again as will reached out to wrap his arm around her torso.
"we'll give you two some space, but then we're getting out tonight!" ethan exclaimed as him and mark trailed out of the dorm.
"i'll go bother amelia two doors down," hannah winked making samy roll her eyes and will flush.
when it was just the two of them samy returned her gaze to her boyfriend who was already looking at her. she pinched his cheek.
"thanks for coming. i'm really glad you're here."
"anything for you. i hope this weekend can ease your stress," will pinched her cheeks back before placing a gentle kiss to her forehead.
"now that you're here it definitely will," and with that, the couple climbed into samy's bed for some some much needed rest and cuddles that the two haven't had since summer ended.
#will smith hockey#hughes!sister x will smith au#samy x will#samy hughes#will smith x oc#boston college hockey#will smith imagine#boston college#uofmichigan#umich hockey#will smith hockey fluff#ws6#wsh2#san jose sharks#sjs#sj sharks#bc eagles#bc hockey#boston college hockey blurb#boston college hockey imagine#boston college imagine#umich#umich imagine#umich fic#umich blurb#umich soccer#umich wolverines#umich boys#umich wolverine#umich blurbs
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