#on the walk to my car and garage so that would be dangerous | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hollandsangel · 7 months ago

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casual | m. sturniolo

i’ve been scheming for weeks !! (actually started this before move over AND voice. so.)

basically i’m obsessed with this song

summary: the most dangerous label is the casual one; or you both want more

warnings: matt x fem!reader, use of y/n, ANGST, cursing, happy ending bc i’m a sucker & a lost cause

wc: 6.5k

the sun is dipping behind the horizon, painting the sky pink and orange. you have your window rolled down, letting the salt air breeze pick your hair up as you rest against the car door. matt has elmer’s new song playing on aux, something lofi with a bit of spanish mixed in.

“like what you see?” he speaks up, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look over at you. he stares for a second, your skin illuminated by the fading rays of the sun, kissing the tops of your cheeks and giving you a warm glow.

you press yourself up to sit properly and catch his hand resting on the center console. you always loved that he drives with his left hand, the right always close enough for you to touch.

“it’s pretty,” you say, poking your head back out of the window, looking overhead at the passing trees, “the palms are so tall.” matt squeezes your hand, and when you look back up he’s already looking at you, smiling when you meet his eyes.. his hair looks lighter in the setting sun, the side of his face lit up all golden and warm. you bite your lip and smile, turning away with a slight flush.

“it’s green,” you tell him and he flicks his head back forward, muttering a curse under his breath.

“my bad,” he admits, refusing to drop your hand.

it looked like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, just takes a breath and lets it out before turning back to the road.

when the car pulls into the garage you reach to the back to grab your overnight bag. matt’s already out of the car, coming over to your side to open your door, “c’mon,” he says in that silly high pitched voice, just to hear you giggle.

you make your way to his bedroom, knowing the ins and outs of the triplet’s house like the back of your hand. matt follows behind you, his footsteps echoing amongst the hardwood floors.

“i can’t wait to lay down,” you sigh, the effects of the sun's heat catching up with you now that you’re in the cool, air conditioned house.

“yeah, i’m feelin’ pretty tired too,” matt agrees, his voice heavy and suddenly cloaked by fatigue.

you’d been out all day, shopping on melrose, walking by the beach. dinner and ice cream and the beating sun soaked up all your energy. nothing sounded better than getting cozy in matt’s bed and watching a movie, maybe catching a bit of a nap before deciding to head home. you knew he’d insist on driving you, and that always hurt more than you’d like to admit.

the two of you weren’t dating, he wasn’t your boyfriend and you told yourself you didn’t mind. it wasn’t a very convincing lie though, most everyone around you could tell. it’s not that you hadn’t talked about it, you had, there were just things getting in the way.

matt was worried about how his fans would react, and he absolutely did not want it to be at your expense. you hated the thought of pushing him, like forcing him or asking too much, being too needy would only drive him away. all your friends had told you to stop, that you were only going to get yourself hurt, but you’d honestly rather have half of him and a broken heart than none of him at all.

you never doubted that he cares about you, in fact you know he does. he always picks you up from classes, knows your order at all your favourite fast food places and keeps an extra toothbrush in the bathroom for you. it’s things like that that make the title of causal or just seeing each other sting a little bit more.

here though, all settled in matt’s bed, you try not to think about it too hard. there’s some liam neeson movie he insisted on showing you playing on the tv, and you’re happy to be watching it, but mostly happy to be watching it with him. his chest rises and falls under your head with each breath and it’s making you more tired than before.

“i’m so warm,” you say through a yawn, all comfy now in your sweats and matt’s crewneck, although the comfort comes mostly from his arms wrapped around your middle.

“you can throw on a pair of boxers if you want, top drawer,” matt offers, his arms unmoving, keeping you mildly trapped against him.

“let me goooo,” you groan dramatically, making a big show of sliding out from under his arms and grinning to yourself when he laughs.

“come back,” he pouts, reaching for a stuffed animal to take your place while you cross the room to his dresser.

“just give me a sec,” you giggle, rummaging around in the drawer and pulling out a pair of plaid boxers. there’s something stuck to it, all tangled up in the mess of his clothes, “what the– is this my bra? i’ve been looking for this for like a month.”

matt lifts his head just enough to see what you’re holding up, huffing when he hits the pillow again, “i dunno, sweetheart, you probably left it, you’ve got a lot of stuff here,” he sounds tired, and the words are pressed against his pillow now that he’s rolled onto his stomach.

you’ve got lots of stuff here.

it digs into you, how casually he says it, an almost physical ache you feel beyond your ribs, right where your heart is.

quickly you try to shake it off, shucking off your sweatpants and sliding the boxers up your legs so you can hurry back into bed before allowing yourself to think about what he said too much.

“c’mere,” there’s a little smile on his face when he says it, arm outstretched for you to crawl under. immediately matt tucks you up against his body impossibly close, his nose stuffed into your hair and breathing you in. it feels nice, right, and you let yourself bask in it, like maybe the state of your relationship (or lack thereof) won’t be in limbo forever. he has to feel it too, the pull.

“i think you should just stay tonight,” he says quietly against your temple, leaving a little kiss there.

“are you sure?”

he nods, “it’s late, ‘m not gonna kick you out,” you can see his smile in the dark, his features lit up delicately by the dim light of the movie, “and i kinda wanna cuddle,” he admits sheepishly, trying to hide his blush when you turn to him.

“awe, matty,” you tease, scooching closer to him, hardly an inch away.

“hey,” he says all high pitched, making you laugh again.

“that voice always gets me,” you tell him, snuggling up under his chin.

“that’s why i do it,” he tells you.

it doesn’t take long for you to slip into an easy sleep with matt holding you, the mindless noise coming from the tv luring you deeper into unconsciousness. he’s being extra gentle, finger tips dragging along your waist under your top. you hardly feel him slide out of bed or tuck you in all snug under the covers.

nick’s in the kitchen when matt emerges from his bedroom for some water, hunting for something in the pantry. matt rubs his eyes.

“hello?” chris leans forward on the couch, his voice startling matt.

“jesus, what– you’re just both out here at fucking two in the morning?” he grumbles, eyes squinted against the harsh lights.

“we ordered food,” chris stands up, walking into the kitchen.

nick nods, closing the cupboard, glass in hand, “we thought you were at y/n’s or something, i didn’t hear you come in,”

matt grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and a takes a sip before answering, “nah she’s here, she’s asleep,” he says, nodding towards his bedroom.

nick groans, “god, are you guys dating yet,” he asks, head rolling back against his shoulders, exsapertated.

matt’s eyes widen at the sudden outburst of noise, looking back at his door to make sure nick didn’t wake you, “dude, be quiet,” he urges.

you’d felt matt’s absence after a few minutes, the warmth of his body leaving the bed when he did. slowly you sit up, pressing the heel of your palm into your eye and swinging your feet to the floor quietly. you stand behind matt’s closed bedroom door, prepared to silently creep out and go to the bathroom when you catch his voice.

“and no,we’re just casual,” he continues to answer nick’s question, who glances over and chris. “what— don’t look at him like that,” this earns him another sideye, “i mean it, it’s not serious.”

“matthew” nick starts, “isn’t she asleep in your bed right now?” nick points an accusatory finger in his brother’s direction, emphasizing his words.

it’s matt’s turn to look at chris, who holds his hands up in surrender, “don’t look at me, i’m with nick,” he says, looking away from his brother from where he remains on the couch.

“well she’s not my girlfriend, if that’s where this is going,” matt turns back to the fridge, not really looking for anything, just trying to hide from his brother’s judgmental, but justified, stares.

it hurts to hear, even if you know it’s the truth.

“and why not, idiot,” nick asks, getting fed up. he can clearly tell how his brother feels and is getting frustrated, mad even, with the idea of him toying with your feelings.

“i just—i just can’t do it.” that hurts more, a sharp pain you feel in your chest. you swallow dryly, and that hurts too.

you decide you don’t have to go to the bathroom that badly anymore, and slowly sink back into matt’s bed. you know you and matt aren’t together, that he’s not your boyfriend, but a part of you has always clung to the idea that one day he would be, that he’d finally make the move. you thought he liked you enough to at least try.

tugging the duvet up to your chin you roll over onto your side to face the wall. matt comes back into the bedroom and you can hear nick and chris talking quietly for a second before the door closes again. you’re not too sure, but you think one of them mumbles your name amidst the conversation. matt slides back under the covers with you, coming as close as he can to wrap his arms around you.

it makes your head spin, his words rattling around in your mind, saying he “can’t do it,” but here is, body tucked perfectly against yours, holding you so tight you’d think he never wanted to let go.

—

matt seems notice that you’re a bit quieter than usual the next morning, but you try to hide it under the excuse of not feeling well. he offers to drop you off and you take him up on it, knowing that marinating in the misery you feel won’t solve anything but seems to be the easiest thing to do at the moment.

“text me if you need anything, okay?” his tone is concerned and you can feel him looking at you even though you’re trying to avoid eye contact. you know you’d cave, catching a glimpse of the light blue with all that worry clouding it.

“yeah, i will,” you sigh, reaching into the back seat to grab your bag.

matt catches you, palm placed delicately along your jaw so you’ll look at him, “hey,” he says all soft, “c’mere,” he guides you forward slightly and you know what’s coming, you know it’s gonna hurt but you do it anyway.

he kisses you gently and you fall into it with ease, reaching out to touch his arm. when he strokes his thumb along your cheekbone you pull away, licking your lips.

“i’ve gotta go,” you whisper, afraid the full volume of your voice would shatter something, you’re not too sure what.

“yeah, okay,” he nods, pulling his hand away from your face and trying to smile as you open your door, watching you walk into your building.

he stays there in the parked car for a minute, wondering what’s wrong, pretending he doesn’t know that this whole situation hurts you just as much as it hurts him. he’s staring up at your apartment window, tapping the steering wheel and taking a long, deep breath.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself, pushing his hair back and putting the car in reverse.

—

you and matt don’t talk excessively for the next few days, only a few texts exchanged here and there and one phone call after he knew you’d just written a midterm.

he called to ask how it went and tell you he was proud of you, and also to invite you out to dinner with his parents on the upcoming weekend. they were flying out to l.a. for a few days and he wanted you to meet them. it felt cruel.

“i dunno matt, i’ve got an assignment due sunday at midnight, i might not be able to make it,” of course you wanted to go, but the tug of self preservation was starting to become more equal to the pull you felt towards him. you were starting to lose sight of what was more important, him or yourself.

for so long it had been him.

“please, sweetheart, i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever,” matt slumps into his desk chair, spinning back forth.

you cave and somehow your vision clears. it was him again.

“yeah, yeah, okay, i wanna see you too,”

matt smiles on the other end of the phone, “yay,” he says sweetly, making his joy obvious, “i can help you with your assignment if you want, too,” he offers, and you know he’s just trying to get a smile out of you.

you laugh without meaning to, “matt, you know nothing about the course,”

“i’ll figure it out, anything i can do to make sure i see you,”

you bite your lip, trying to keep a smile at bay, “careful, you’re gonna make me think you like me or something,”

“aw, well i can’t have that now can i?” he teases, and it cuts deeper than he realizes it does.

“no,” you mutter, trying to hold onto the smile on your face even though matt can’t see you, “um, i should probably get going, if i wanna finish my assignment on time,”

“oh, yeah, okay. i could come by a little later with some food?” he poses it as a question, sensing your hesitancy.

“you don’t have to do that,”

“i know, but i want to,” he says it so easily, like there’s no reason in the world he wouldn’t come to your house after eleven pm just to sit on your bedroom floor while you do school work.

“canes?” you finally offer.

“be there in half an hour.” you hear the car keys jingle through the phone, the front door latching shut.

—

the triplet’s parents land on friday afternoon. you haven’t seen matt since wednesday night when he called and brought take out to your place, and you’re starting to feel a little nervous at the thought of seeing his parents.

you’ve spoken to them over facetime once or twice when matt had called them, but this is real, this is serious.

you think you’ve completely driven yourself insane with that, thinking of it as serious. for days there’s been a battle in your head about whether or not this means matt wants to make your relationship offical. it’s become such a problem that you’ve forbidden yourself from thinking about it.

taking a deep breath you refocus on yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair and trying to decide on a lip product for the night when your roomate wanders into your bedroom.

“how are you doing?” she asks, leaning against the door frame. you don’t answer, just look up at her with what must be a miserable expression, because she chuckles sadly at you, “that bad, huh?”

you groan and clench your fists, “i’m just confused!” you exclaim.

“i know, but i think tonight should clear some things up,” she tells you hopefully, and you really want to believe her.

“i hope so,” you sigh, “i just really like him,” you whine, defeated.

your phone dings then, a message from matt of course.

matt sturn

be there in twenty

ive got the kids

you laugh sadly at the text.

“‘s that him?” your roommate asks.

“yeah, him and his brothers are on the way, they’ll be here soon.”

“you’ll do great, don’t sweat it,” she tries to reassure you, giving you an over enthusiastic thumbs up before shutting your door again.

matt, nick and chris have been in the car for about five minutes and already matt’s debating driving into oncoming traffic. him and his brothers have had the same fight at least three times since you stayed over last week, and if he’s honest, he’s getting really sick of it.

“enough of this ‘i can’t do that’ bullshit, matt, she’s coming to dinner with our parents,” nick says pointedly, running out of air at the end of his setence, “you don’t just bring your hook up to that shit, so fucking stop talking to her if it’s that much of an issue,” he continues, leaning froward against matt’s seat, staring holes into the side of his brothers face.

matt is clearly aggravated, gripping the wheel a little too hard, “shut the fuck up, nick— she’s not just a hook up,”

nick’s eyes get wider at this and he leans over matt’s seat, voice exponentially louder when he says, “you just proved my fucking point!!”

“you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” matt mumbles in a deft tone, staring harshly out onto the road.

chris leans over from the passenger seat, gesturing in matt’s direction, “and you do? you never shut the fuck up about her, and she’s always at the house but you’re too much of a pussy to do anything,” he yells over matt all in one breath, words coming out too fast.

matt’s mouth is set in a firm line and he’s shaking his head, “you guys don’t get it!” he finally yells back, signaling and switching lanes before he can finish his thought, “i can’t do that to her,” the car’s stopped at a red light now, allowing him to look nick in the eye from the rearview mirror. both him and chris shut up for a second.

“i can’t do that to her,” matt emphasizes again, making his point with his hands, bracketing the last two words, “the internet would chew her up and spit her out. you think i don’t want to make her my girlfriend? do you think i like doing this to her? every fucking day i think about cutting it off because i don’t wanna hurt her, but i’m too fucking selfish to do it.”

“it’s green,” chris mumbles.

“shut the fuck up,” matt says through his teeth as he turns back to face the road, driving through the light.

“so what are you gonna do?” nick asks, softer now, arm hung over the back of matt’s seat.

matt looks up at him in the rearview again, taking a deep, anxiety ridden breath, “i don’t know.”

the three boys are silent for the remainder of the drive to your apartment. matt puts the car in park and mumbles something about being right back before getting out and heading up to your floor, slamming the car door a little bit too hard.

“jesus christ,” chris breathes, feeling the tension finally break.

there’s a knock at the front door, and you take a deep breath before opening it. matt stands with his hair a little bit messy and his cheeks a little bit red, but he softens when he sees you.

“hey,” you say, “let me just grab my bag,”

“wait, y/n,”

“yeah?” you turn back around to look at him. he’s standing in the middle of your kitchen, looking a little bit deflated.

“can i have a hug?”

your heart nearly shatters. is he feeling it too?

“wha– of course baby, of course,” you cross the kitchen over to him and he already has his arms open. immediately he locks his arms around your waist, resting his head against yours. you gently rub his back and rest your cheek on his shoulder.

“is everything okay?” you wonder after a second, feeling him breathe heavily against you.

matt squeezes you a little tighter and kisses your hair, “yeah,” he sighs, “nick and chris are just annoying,”

“you love them though,” you remind him.

he pulls away but keeps you close, hands on your hips now, “sometimes i think about reevaluating that,”

you laugh at him, fixing his messy hair, “no you don’t,”

its his turn to smile, “you’re right,” he leans in for a quick kiss which you grant him, letting it dampen your nerves and reservations on the evening.

“i know, now c’mon, we’ve gotta go,” you slide your hand down into his.

“you don’t have to be nervous, by the way,” matt says to you in the elevator, still holding your hand.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and he squeezes your hand, letting you know he’s there for you, “it just feels serious,” you finally admit what you’ve been thinking for the last few days. you’re a little bit afraid to look over at him, so you keep your gaze towards the closed elevator doors.

matt gives your hand a quick squeeze and glances at the side of your face, you can feel his eyes on you, “it’s not serious, don’t worry,” it’s a little strained when he says it, as if he means something else but you can’t quite decipher it. it’s too much to think about now and yet it’s all you’ve been thinking about for days, how ‘unserious’ it all is to him.

when you do get to dinner, marylou and jimmy are already at the restaurant. marylou is being so sweet to you, asking about classes and how you met the boys, what you like do to in your spare time and things about matt that you tease him over. you feel like a girlfriend, you feel like his girlfriend and you don't think you can take much more of it. she tells you how much he talks about you when he’s home, that even justin has started making fun of him for it.

when you look over at matt he’s blushing but staring directly into his plate, avoiding you.

the smile you plastered onto your face fades and you dig your nails into your plam under the table.

“excuse me, i’m gonna run to the bathroom,” you say to no one in particular, catching nick’s eyes. he seems to notice your pleading gaze, and sends you a text after you’ve left the table

nick stromboli

you okay?

you lock yourself in the single bathroom and stand staring at your phone screen.

you

this is brutal

your mom is being sooo sweet but matt won’t even look at me

i feel like he's embarrassed

nick stromboli

he's actually the biggest idiot that ever lived

chris is lowk giving him a death stare rn

nick was being serious, chris staring at matt as marylou goes on about how nice you are.

nick elbows matt in the side and he looks over, more than slightly fed up.

“i think you should go check on y/n,” he whispers, making matt perk up a bit in worry.

“why?”

“i don’t think she’s feeling good,”

“oh, i hope she’s okay,” marylou interrupts herself.

“i’ll be right back,” matt stands from the table and walks to the bathroom, knocking on the door gently, “y/n/n? it’s me sweetheart,”

a slight panic drops through you as you push away from where you were leaning against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

“c’mon let me in, nick said you weren’t feeling good,” he knows you were nervous about tonight, and he’s hoping that’s all it is, that he can fix it.

you sigh, head tossed back to your shoulders as you breathe out before letting him in, hoping you look more composed than you feel.

“hey, you okay?” he asks gently, closing the door behind him.

“yeah, uh, i think i’m gonna go,” you mumble, looking away.

“what? d–do you want like a gingerale or something?” his brows are pinched and he’s reaching out for you. you step back without thinking about it. you don’t even notice you’d done it until you see the hurt look on his face. he reaches out again, slower this time.

“y/n…”

something in you clicks, or comes crashing down when his fingers brush your wrist, “i’m not your girlfriend matt, stop worrying about me like i am,”

he's a little bit stunned at that and pulls back, saying your name again.

“no, don’t do that, i heard what you said to the guys last week, and you keep telling me we’re causal and we can’t be anything but we’re at dinner with your fucking parents. i can’t keep prenteding to be your girlfriend, or–or that it doesn’t hurt, i just can’t do it anymore,”

there’s tears in your eyes you don’t notice until matt whispers, “don’t cry,”

“i’m going crazy,” you tell him, voice so soft, so fragile that his heart breaks a little bit.

“no you’re not, c’mon– we can work this out,” the words are so comforting, and normally he’s the one you’d run to for comfort, but he’s hurting you.

“are we gonna make it official, matt? or are we just gonna keep sleepingover at eachother’s houses four days a week and tell all our friend we aren’t dating?” you ask, pressing your fingertips underneath your eyes, “are we gonna do this for real or are you gonna keep telling your parents about me when you’re in boston, and–and keep coming to my house after midnight with take out just because i don’t wanna be alone working on assignments,” he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a solemn look, so you keep going.

“i can’t take the sorry fucking look chris keeps giving me when i’m walking out of your room, it hurts, matt,”

he steps forward finally, trying to make up for more than the physical space that separates you, “no, c’mon, just–just come back to the table. i’ll stay at yours tonight and we’ll talk about this,”

you hold back a scoff at the irony of him mentioning he’ll stay over, “i need an answer now.” you tell him. he’s gone back to standing a few feet away from you, not touching you anymore.

“an answer for what?”

“can you commit to this now? to me?” you feel like you’re pleading with him and you hate how desperate it is.

“we aren’t having this conversation in the bathroom right now, can we please just talk about it later?” matt asks.

you shake your head, “matt, we’ve been doing this for four months, i don’t wanna wait any longer, i’m not a toy.”

he stares at you, licking his lips. you stare back, suffocating in his silence. it’s all the answer you need.

“i’m gonna go,” you mutter, “tell your parents it was really nice to meet them, and that i’m sorry for leaving,” you add, looking away when you walk passed him to open the door.

you leave the restaurant and call an uber, hardly sparing a glance in the direction of his family’s table on your way out.

“is y/n okay?” jimmy asks when matt comes back alone.

matt shoves a hand into his hair to push it back, not meeting anybody’s eyes, “she went home, she wasn’t feeling good”

“and you didn’t offer to take her?” marylou scolds, sure she raised her son better than that.

“she didn’t want me to,” matt admits, defeated.

nick and chris share a look, knowing that isn’t the whole truth, or really the truth at all.

—

a few days later, after their parents had gone back to boston, matt’s shuffling into nick’s bedroom, where him and chris are laying on the bed on their phones.

matt looks a mess, hair wild and eyes sunken in. he’s been in his bedroom all day, blinds drawn and door latched shut

nick thinks he’s wearing a hoodie of yours, the faded smell of your perfume lingering when his brother walks in.

“…you okay?” nick asks, glancing up from his phone.

matt shakes his head and sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes with his fists, “i feel like fucking shit,” he admits, still looking down, “i hate that i hurt her,” he tells the two, as if his brothers weren’t already acutely aware, “i was trying so hard to keep from hurting her and i fucking did it anyway,” they wait for matt to finish, knowing he has a little more to say, “i was so fucking scared of making things offical that i lost her all together, she’s never gonna talk to me again,”

nick sighs and looks over at chris, the two of them sharing a sympathetic look before he moves forward and puts his arm around matt, who slumps against his shoulder, “that's not true,” nick says, “she probably should never talk to you again, but she’s a good person, and she’s our friend,”

“yeah, and she cares about you a lot, matt.” chris adds, sitting on the matt’s other side.

matt groans and covers his face, “i know, and that’s what sucks,” he wipes his palms over his face, “god, why was i so fucking stupid?”

“because you really like her,” chris offers, “and you’re gonna try and make it up to her…right?”

matt sits back up, staring at the wall, “i dunno, i want to, i don’t…” he takes a deep breath, willing the pit in his stomach to go away, “i’m more afraid of losing her all together than i was of any of that other shit, but i don’t know how to fix…this,” he says, dejected.

nick perks up, because he’s never seen matt half as lively as he is when he’s with you, or talking about you. he’s pretty sure matt was on his way to falling in love with you (if he hasn’t already) and refuses to let him lose hope,“i have an idea,” he says.

matt looks at his brother, desperate. the circles under his eyes a shade too dark, his cheeks sunken in, his lips chapped. nick continues.

“we’ll need waffles.”

—

it’s been over a week and a half since you walked out of the restaurant, and since you’d spoken to matt. nick’s been messaging you, asking if you’re okay and telling you he’s there for you. there’s been a bit of him telling you how stupid matt is, which you’d agreed with solemnly.

nick’s messaging you now. you’re posted up at your kitchen table trying to review for one of your exams, but more so warding off another wave of tears, pressing your fingertips into your eyes.

you pick up your phone to answer the message nick had sent, something about a sleepover at your place this weekend and a promise of a hannah montana binge, but there’s a knock at your door. you’re confused at first, wondering who’s at your door this late.

“did you order food?” you ask your roommate as you get up, looking in through the crack of her barely opened door. her headphones are on and she's hunched over a textbook with a highlighter, oblivious to any visitors.

your heartbeat speeds up a little bit as you begin to think about who’s on the other side. with a huff you look through the peephole, met with a slightly distorted image of matt anxiously shifting his weight from foot to foot.

he keeps looking down the hallway and biting the inside of his cheek. he’s holding something. a paper bag in one hand and a bouquet of delicately wrapped flowers in the other.

you turn the lock, hand shaking a little bit as the door swings open. he whips his head from where he was looking down the hall to the now open door, your eyes locking immediately.

“matt,” you whisper, not even meaning to say it.

he stares at you for a second, seemingly forgetting any words he would have said for a second before holding up the bag.

“i brought waffles.”

—

“please let me in,” he says breathlessly, as if he was holding his breath waiting for you to open the door. “i know i probably don’t deserve a chance, and you probably don’t wanna hear me out, but…but please,” he licks his lips, grip tightening on the stems of the flowers, (you didn’t think he was listening when you told him your favourites all those months ago) “i miss you,” it’s quiet, the way he says it. he’s pleading with you.

there’s an ache in your chest, you’re trying not to mistake his tenderness for pity. and yet you still find yourself letting him in.

“okay,” it takes so little convincing. you missed him too.

there’s little talking at first, mostly just you and matt grabbing plates down and dishing yourselves out. he went to your favourite diner, because of course he did. the waffles are still warm and are making your kitchen smells like butter and sausage. you move your books and laptop out of the way to make room for the two of you to sit, elbows touching when you start to eat.

you’re half way through your first waffle when matt speaks up. you could feel him staring, his body half turned towards you in his chair. some of your hair falls into your face and his finger twitches before you tuck it away. all he wants to do it touch you. hold you, kiss you, anything. he’s such a jerk.

“i’m sorry,”

you freeze for a second, still facing away from him. after you finish chewing you set your fork down and turn slowly, finally looking him in the eyes. the blue has grown a shade too dark, melancholic.

“for what?” you ask stupidly, just needing to know how he’s felt about it all.

“fuck, everything?” he says, forcefully pushing his hair away from his eyes.

you shake your head and turn back to your plate.

“y/n,” he sighs, “c’mon look at me,”

you do, but it hurts.

“i’m sorry for what happened at the restaurant, and i’m sorry things got so out of hand and–and that…this went on for so long,” he gestures between the two of you, fixing his wild hair again.

“this?” you ask, voice breaking, thinking the worst, that he regrets it all, that it’s over. it’s really over.

“this stupid fucking dance we’ve been doing for four months, it’s crazy. it was always crazy.”

you huff, probably a little bit too dramatically as you shift to face him fully, “matt, what are you saying?”

“i’m saying that i like you! and it was so stupid to fucking…dilute that becuase i was scared or some shit,” the latter end of his sentence loses volume, he’s getting shy again.

“but–but you just wanted to be casual–” you start, looking down at your crossed legs.

“no, i never wanted to be fucking casual, i was just…. fuck i was just scared.” he says around a mouthful of waffle. the air smells like syrup.

“i wanna be with you all the time, i like you so much– i just– at first i didn’t want things to be weird between us, which is why i thought a relationship was the wrong idea, but then we started…doing relationship things and it only got better.” he starts, messing with his hair and pushing his food around his plate, “after i stopped being so afraid of that i just, i got scared of another thing,” he finally looks up at you, eyes a little sad, a little heavy.

you can tell that he knows how he’s made you feel, and despite that you hate that he’s sad. you never want him to be sad.

matt continues, “i’d hate for you to get hurt because of my fans, and i knew it was gonna be hard to keep things private, to keep things…ours. i thought that was something i didn't wanna do or i wasn't ready for but…” he sighs, cutting himself off and taking in another big breath. you want to reach out and rub his back, knowing he’s anxious and just trying to calm himself down.

“you being mad at me i can deal with,” he starts again, “you being mad, or–or upset because of me, is harder to handle, but fuck, not having you at all? that's worse than anything else we’d have to face,” he looks up, dead into your eyes to make sure you understand the weight of what he’s about to say, “together.”

“matt…” you whisper. you’ve forgotten about the food. it’s getting cold but it doesn’t matter.

he shakes his head before meeting your eyes again, “i’d rather go through all that bullshit with you than go through nothing without you,” he sounds so sincere that you think your heart skips a beat.

“what are you—”

“i wanna do this. for real.” he nods once, watching you closely.

“do you mean that?” he hates how doubtful you sound and he hates that he’s the one to have put all that doubt there. he thinks you might cry.

“y–yeah of course i mean it. i should have said it a long time ago, and if it makes you feel any better nick’s been giving me shit for like, two months, and i think chris wanted to beat me up last week.” he offers you half a smile, hoping you’ll give one back.

instead you breathe out laugh. he basks in it.

“i want you to be my girlfriend,” you’re looking down again and your hair falls from it’s place behind your ear. he doesn’t stop himself this time, nimble, ring adorned finger pushing it back, “i wanna be your boyfriend,”

you look up at him, studying his face for a second before you speak. he looks tired and a little worn, like he’s been thinking too much and too hard and worrying even more.

“yeah?” you finally say.

matt smiles at you. he has such a pretty smile.

“yeah.” he nods, smiling now.

“so we’re not just casual?”

matt scoffs out a laugh and stands. you stand too and he wraps his arms around you, tucking his chin atop your head when your arms go over his shoulders. he kisses your hair and breathes you in, the lingering scent of your shampoo and your perfume and you. it’s all over his clothes and his sheets, but nothing beats having you in his arms again.

“we were never just causal,” he assures you, as if you didn’t know.

tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose @strnilolo @cherrypostsposts

also tagging some of my faves (writers & other creators!!) 🥹 @pettydollie @wcters @grimholic @floristmatt (if you don’t wanna be tagged lmk!!)

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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bunnys-kisses · 3 months ago

Note

can i order belgian waffles and soda served by max verstappen? thanks bunny <3

bakery menu

want to submit your own order?? then hit up the menu! there are tons of items available! i'd love to hear from you! as for this lovely anon, thank you for such a nice order! it's rather short, but i love, love, love it! jealous!max my beloved! thank you!!

belgian waffles ("i cum in that every night.") + soda (jealousy) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, jealous!max, jealousy, dirty talk, missionary sex, motor home sex

"you're a jealous man, max verstappen." you said one night in the garage. your arms crossed and you gaze heavy on him.

he mimic your stance and replied, "i don't want the likes of piastri trying to take my mechanic."

you snorted through your nose, "right." you shifted from one foot the other, "because that weekend in lisbon and that christmas present last year really were because i was employee of the month.... that and somehow my supposed contract with alpine fell through."

max wasn't jealous. he was just concerned.

there should be an age restriction on mechanics. they should be old guys who can still work like they were in their twenties. because if max caught sight of you in your coveralls, looking like a total mess.

you weren't just some cute thing in the garage, you moved with the rest of your team. you were strong for all your time lifting and moving things. but yet carried such soft features that yanked on max's heart like a chain. you seemed so dedicated to getting max his fourth championship.

which was why he was curious why you were in the mercedes garage. he stayed a fair distance with his hat low to keep from any unwanted attention. he wanted to see where this was going.

"this is crazy, george! you really shouldn't be showing me this! oh my god." you said. then you starte to ramble about the aspects of the car. you were practically on your knees to get closer to it.

george tried not to think about you on your knees to hard. he didn't have ill intentions with you. and afterwards, you thanked george before you left, telling him you 'owed him one'. you were impressed by the car, if one red bull had the same specs. the team was pushing you to your limit at times, it didn't help that you had the golden boy of the team stalking in your shadows.

"have a good nice." george said before he watched you walk off.

max caught up with george after you both left the garage, a jealousy coiled in his chest. "george!"

the other man looked over, you far ahead now. he waved to max, "hey, mate."

"what are you doing out near the garage? race's over, man." that press smile hung on max's lips. he could see that you were gaining distance. but if max doesn't set a boundary now. george might get the wrong idea.

"ah, ya know. keepin' busy." max was soon in his personal space, "what are you doing around here?"

"aw, well. looking for my mechanic." he smiled as he placed a hand on george's back, giving it a firm smack. he leaned in to the other man and said, "i hope you know, george, i cum in that every night. it's not right to touch what belongs to another man. we're friends, right?" george nodded and max nodded in response, "so just back off, okay? she doesn't need to be poking around in your garage. and tell toto that she isn't interested in that contract either." then flashed the other man one of his winning smiles before he pulled away from him and went to go find you.

max wasn't a jealous man, he just knew your skills were suited better for the build of red bull.

in the room of his motorhome the night before you had to pack up for the next weekend. there was a fair bit of privacy in the place. it was probably more spacious than your apartment. even though max keeps suggesting you move in with him (the cats would love you). it felt nice to be out of your mechanics clothes, it could be sweltering sometimes. but it was needed when handling such dangerous machinery.

you didn't stray from red bull for long. you were in a shirt that had the logo across your chest, your breasts warping the image in the process and a fresh pair of cotton panties.

max loved the sight of you, how sweet you looked in his space. he remembered the first time you were in his home and your mouth went slack from the sight of it. your first comment was the view, which max let you get a closer look when he fucked you up against the window.

but, he'd have to reign it in a little tonight.

you were curled up with him in bed, your head against his chest while he played with your hair. you lifted your head a little to look at him and he kissed you.

"i saw you were with george today."

"oh! that wasn't anything. he just wanted to show me the car. i was interested in the specs that we could use in red bull... if anyone listened to me."

he smiled, "well." he kissed your forehead, "i always listen to you." he got you onto your back and in between your legs. he was able to move you so easily, for a woman who spent her days lugging around heavy materials, max could easily move you.

you were soft under his touch. in the low lighting of the bedroom. his hands on your hips as he admired you. you blushed a little bit, "i promise there was no funny business. plus george has a girlfriend!"

he got your legs around his waist and chuckled softly, "you think so little of me. i know you wouldn't break my heart that way. only being a team switcher. plus, if george tried to put his hands on you... we'd have a problem." he pressed his clothed cock against you, "but you're my good mechanic, right?"

you swallowed, "you're insatiable."

he pulled at the shirt on you, "only for you. i don't want you getting involved with teams that are less than. you only deserve the best."

"and what's the best?" you asked as the shirt was pulled over your head.

"me."

the two of you got out of your clothes, and max grabbed a condom out of the nightstand drawer. you had already gone through half of the pack that weekend. his hands on your thighs as he gazed at your nude body.

the only thing better than red bull or max's logo across your tits was them being bare for his eyes only. he licked his lips as he brushed his bare cock up against your slit.

"hey!" you yelped.

he chuckled, "quiet. i don't want a noise complaint from the other team. i know you want to scream my name, but tonight we have to keep quiet." he put on the condom and laid you out on the bed. he kissed your jaw as he shifted you hips up against him for a good angle.

he got into you, and shuddered at the feeling. being intimate with you was like a breath of fresh air. even on the days where the smell of car lingered on you and sweat was caked to his skin.

he loved your curves, your smile. how you lit up the garage and were a hard working. your knowledge of cars and how excited you spoke about them. he remembered a time where you could point out cars that passed by when you were having lunch together.

"you feel so good." he said softly, "you just feel like a dream. thank you for taking good care of my car and taking better care of me." he peppered your face with kisses, pushed your hair out the way to access more skin.

you glowed at the touch, it was so simple but yet it left your soul on fire. even when max was a jealous man, you still yearned for his closeness. his kisses and touches, his soft words and how he looked at you. he could have a day from hell, but when he saw you it was like the skies opened for him.

you held his face and brought his lips to yours. his lips were soft, a little raw from his biting while driving earlier in the day. his body felt good against yours. when you pulled away, you smiled at him.

it was like being kissed by sunshine.

he moved against you, your legs around his waist. your nails up near the back of his head. the kisses were passionately. the bed shifted a little with max's movements, but it made your heart leap in your chest.

you then cupped his face and ran your thumb across his bottom lip and smiled. heat in your cheeks as he thrusted. "of course max, a champion only becomes one when he has a championship worthy mechanic."

a shudder went through him, "i like when you talk like that." he said with such affection, "seeing that ego of yours inflate."

you giggled and pressed your forehead to his, "it's warranted. just keep getting those podiums." then kissed him once more.

the rhythm max had was steady and made pleasure circulate through your body. your soft moans were highlighted by the creaking of the bed. the heat inside of you bleed into your hands and feet as he rutted against you.

your nails dragged lazily across his broad shoulders. you panted heavily as max shifted your hips to get a better angle.

"so good for me."

"and you're good for me." he replied. he could feel the wash of warmth in his face, probably staining his cheeks pink. like when he finished a race. but having sex with you was not a race.

"max."

he knew you were getting close. he could feel the shudder through his body. it was like a inferno that he fed into.

you covered your mouth as to not get loud. but max pulled them away from you and pinned you to the soft covers. he silenced with you a kiss as he jackhammered into you. your back arched more, stopped by max's wider chest.

you held onto his hands as he pinned them down and kissed him deeply as you climaxed. your legs tightened around his waist and he continued to move against you. he was close behind you, giving you another searing kiss as he finished in the condom.

his pace slowed to a stop and he felt the heat on his back. he pulled out of you and went to go get rid of the condom. you curled up on the bed and pulled the pillow under your head as you eyed him throwing it out with the others from the weekend.

he got his briefs back on and got you back into his arms. you melted into his touch. in all fairness, you had very little intention of running off to another team. even if red bull drove you crazy, to feel close to max as often as you did felt nice.

if you put your soul into that engine, then he gave his soul over to you.

max wasn't a jealous man, but the only thing that could sate the throb of emotion were two things. a multi-year contract with red bull with your name on it and the thin gold chain with a small 'm' pendant. something you could tuck into your uniform while you worked.

he smiled at you, and you wiped grease off your cheek with your gloves, "going to make me win tonight?"

you nodded, "of course." you smiled at him before you pushed hair out of your eyes, "win like always, verstappen. and don't." you pointed at him, "damage my car."

he pulled you by the waist for a soft kiss, "of course." he wasn't a jealous man, but he'd be a fool if he let you go. <3

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mywritersmind · 1 month ago

Text

HI KIMI - KA12

summary : she loves to tease, he can’t help but blush.

listen up : not proofread! kinda hate it! totowolffdaughter!reader. really into the whole bosses daughter thing rn

word count :

⋆｡‧˚⋆

My weekend will always be good when I'm at the Paddock. But there’s one factor that may make it a bit more interesting. A dangerous factor that it’s tan, cute, with curly hair. The same factor that is completely off limits.

Kimi Antonelli walks into the garage as I sit in an engineer's seat, chewing gum and scrolling on my phone.

Most everyone is gone on break except for a few sticking around and talking about the cars. I spin around in the chair so I’m facing him, blowing a bubble with my gum and grinning, “Hi, Kimi.”

He walks up to me slowly, smirking. “Hey, Wolff.”

“How’s my favorite future driver, today?” I sit up straight as he shrugs, clearly liking my antics.

“Pretty good.” He sits across from me, “You?”

Before I can answer, I'm interrupted by my lovely father, yelling. “Y/n! Your mom wants you.” I pout at him as he eyes Kimi, “Now.”

I sigh dramatically and stand, “Duty calls.” I smile at Kimi, not missing the blush on his cheeks as I walk past my dad and into the hallway.

Kimi and I have known eachother forever, my dads obsessed with him, and he’s on the grid for next year. This means two things for my dad,

Mr. Toto Wolff will have someone to bandage his broken heart after Lewis.

He will have a permanent headache with me and Kimi around 24/7.

My dad loves Kimi, he loves him so much that he won’t let me get near the kid! As soon as puberty hit and Kimi started blushing at me, my dad vetoed even the thought of us.

But now we’re adults, and Kimi got hot.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I do have another job then being a permanent fixture to annoy my father and flirt with Kimi. I’m interning with Mercedes (yeah i’m a nepo baby, cry about it.) I work with their socials (yes that’s why they’re so funny!)

I’m videoing Lewis talking to Kimi because apparently I'm the only one who can get Lewis to shoot a funny video. They let me enjoy my tiktok trend before Lewis and George are off in their cars.

I stand with my dad and Kimi, watching them go around for quali.

As soon as Lewis gets out in Q1 and my dad just stares at the screen, I tap Kimi and motion to the door.

We end up in hospitality with all the food, “Are you going to use me to piss off your dad, forever?” He grabs his plate and sits next to me, we both turn behind us to see the cars go around the track.

I shrug and sip my water, “Yes. But I don’t just mess with you to mess with him.” He raises a brow, “I do it because you blushing is hilarious and sorta cute.” He blushes at my words.

“You’re the worst.” He bites into his cookie, “And are probably gonna get me fired.”

I laugh, “Please, my dad would fire me before you!”

He sighs and rests his head against the chair, his curls falling into his face. We watch Alex spin but straighten himself out, both of us sighing. It’s weird to think that Kimi is going to be in one of those cars next year.

“Are you scared?” I face him, his head tilts to me, thinking about it.

“Not really. I’ve always known it’s dangerous but I'm moving up for a reason.” When my dad told me Kimi was getting the 2025 seat, I told him he was too young.

I would die if Kimi found out, but I have to watch all my friends, people who are like brothers to me, crash and take eachother out every week. So maybe I'm a little scared for him.

“You okay?” I realize i’ve been zoning out, So I nod and smile, “Ready to go back? Quali is almost over and i’m trying to get the team to like m-” My eyes are pulled away from him as I see the familiar black and teal car go into the gravel.

“It’s over, now, actually.” We both cringe at George ending quali, “Congratulations Lando.”

“Do not go drool all over him, Wolff.” we start to make our way back, turning to Kimi so i’m walking backwards.

“Kimi Antonelli! Are you jealous?” He doesn’t find his amusing.

“I’m going to find Ollie.” He rolls his eyes at my kissing noises.

“Have fun with your boyfriend!” He flips me off, “Talk about me!” He looks back, shooting me a look that makes my stomach flip.

“I always do.” His accent is smooth and easy.

“What?” He keeps walking away from me, “You always do what!? Talk about me? Have fun with the horsey haas!? Kimi!”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The next day I follow the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders around. They're crazy pretty and so talented in a way that’s different from all the drivers I'm constantly around.

I leave them be when Ollie drags me in front of the camera for F1 TV. Ollie and I grab coffee and look around for a bit before we find Kimi who’s holding a plate full of whipped cream.

“I’m getting flashbacks to your birthday.” I shake my head as we approach him, “We could always recreate it!” I reach for the plate but he pulls it away quickly. Damn drivers' reflexes.

“Hey, some people from the track are coming to my hotel and swimming tonight. Wanna join? My least favorite thing about America is the whole 21 thing. But sober fun is still fun!” Ollie claps his hands together, Kini and I nod before Kimi and I get called back into the Mercedes garage.

My dad eyes us, “Really Y/n?” I furrow my brows at him, this time I actually did nothing wrong! I sit with Carmen during the race, cringing as Lewis gets rolled back into the garage.

But George does great and I try hard not to laugh as I listen to his radio. George and Carmen are like my parents in Mercedes. Even though my actual parents are in Mercedes too.

Honestly the day goes by in a blur, I avoid the garage because Lewis did poorly and George did well. So the vibes are off and I make my way to Vcarb.

Except I get intercepted by Kimi and a cupcake. I take it suspiciously, “Poison?”

“You’ll have to find out.” He deadpans as we walk slowly. Suddenly I'm not in a rush to congratulate Liam.

The cupcake is very good and not poisonous. I groan, tilting my head back, “Fuck, K, I could kiss you!”

He stays quiet as I finish my cupcake. When I look at him he’s looking away with an odd expression on his face, “Relax Antonelli, I promise I won’t kiss you.”

He bites back a smile, “Don’t make promises neither of us want you to keep.” This is unusual. Kimi doesn’t usually flirt back. He’ll make a remark or two but the austin air must be doing something to him.

It makes me feel weird and I like it.

Liam rounds the corner with a smile on his face. I snap out of focusing on Kimi and hug Liam quickly, “Ew. You’re gross. But congratulations!”

“Yeah you killed it mate.” Kimi fist bumps the blonde as he nods.

“Points and fucking with fernando! I’m proud.” Liam laughs and thanks us. But a weird part of me is still stuck on what Kimi said.

When he nudges me after Liam leaves, I flinch, “Shit, Wolff. You’ve been weird today.” He just walks away, I follow while running my hands over my face.

Fuck my life. What is happening!?

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Ollie!” I hug the tall brit as he raises a brow, “Yay!”

“Thought we were supposed to be dry tonight.”

I would say, Well I’m with Kimi tonight so i’m never dry. But even I am can control myself better than that.

I just shrug as Kimi takes over, “She had two shots.”

“A confidence booster!” I smile and take my towel from mimi, skipping over to the girls.

I don’t have many girl friends around the paddock, but I like this group and they seem to like me too. We all get into our swimsuits, going to the bathroom so my friend can braid her hair.

“Who’s the italian?” a new girl says. She’s Ollie’s friend, I think she knows Franco too.

Lia Block, my favorite F1 related woman ever, laughs, “Ask Y/n.”

“Shit. Are you two dating?”

“Uh… no.” I laugh awkwardly.

“Oh!” She frowns, “So… hooking up?”

I shake my head, “No, just friends! We’ve known eachother forever.”

“I think they’re made to be!” Lia wraps her arms around my shoulders, I can see her smiling in the mirror, “But Kimi is a shy idiot.”

“But he’s single?”

Lia laughs uncomfortably, “I think it’s time to swim!”

The water is freezing so I end up in the jacuzzi with Lia. I’m watching Kimi talk to his new girl, “He’s not flirting, you know.”

I dunk my head but she pulls me back up, “He can be!”

“No!” She shakes me, “You’re a big fat liar!”

“He has free will! I like to flirt with him, not be with him!” Her eyes narrow before Kimi jumps into the jacuzzi, splashing us.

Lia shakes her head and dives back in the pool, Kimi frowns at her, “What do I smell?”

I sink back into the water, suddenly feeling very aware of my every movement in my black bikini. “Yeah, like pool water.”

He sits on the step next to me, the water up to his neck as he warms up, “I’ve come to hide.” He floats closer towards me.

“Ollie bugging you?” I joke as he shakes his head.

“You told her I was single!”

“You are!”

He gives me a look. The type of look that makes me want him to say that he isn’t, and that I’m not either. “You could have lied.”

“And why would I do that?” His eyes meet mine and it’s that feeling again. He looks away, the blush on his cheeks not from the steam.

“Kimi!” The girl yells from the pool and he turns to me slowly.

“You did this.”

I scoff, “I did not! If you aren’t single then who will I flirt with.” I pout, joking as he moves his arm around me, touching the jacuzzi wall and not me.

I smirks a bit, “If I wasn’t single I'd be with you.”

I lean in, “When did you get so confident?”

“Quite recently actually!” I could have sworn his eyes flickered down to my lips, “I learned from the best.”

“You speak so highly of me, I'm honored.”

“You should hear my thoughts.” I narrow my eyes at him, trying not to look at his arms or past his chin at all.

“You’re playing with fire here, Antonelli.”

He tilts his head, “You play with me everyday.”

“This payback?”

“No. Just foreplay.” I almost choke. My cheeks going red as Kimis smile grows, “You look good blushing too.”

“Time to swim!” I hurry away and practically fall into the pool. I dunk my head, thinking about today.

Next week will be worse, we have plans for next week! Mexico is next week.

I will be ignoring him next week.

#fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #kimi antonelli fan fic #kimi antonelli fic #kimi antonelli fluff

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fastandcarlos · 5 months ago

Text

My Worst Nightmare : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

Your eyes went wide as you watched it all unfold.

Your heart beat faster than it ever had done before.

The feeling of your hand gripping his arm made Max jump beside you as you watched Lando’s front wheel clip against the front wheel of Charles. As soon as the incident happened you saw an aggression in Lando that you had never seen before, biting your bottom lip as he edges closer and closer to Charles’ car, almost inviting himself to get into some sort of incident against the other driver.

“What’s he playing at?” Max hissed next to you, eyes rolling at what he was seeing from his best friend.

“It’s like he wants to go crashing into the barriers,” you murmured, shaking your head in disbelief.

You could picture Lando getting frustrated in his car, eyes rolling, mouth tutting.

But he was the reason that he almost crashed out of the race. The only person responsible for any potential accident was Lando. The man who promised you every single race that he’d drive safe and that things would be okay.

Max’s eyes stay on you for a few moments as you carry on watching the race. He knows you worry and fret, but he could see frustration in you too. Frustration that your boyfriend was willing to crash so dangerously just because his front wheel got clipped, something you’d seen happen so easily in races plenty of times.

You hoped that would be enough to make him stop.

Lando kept on pushing though, every opportunity he tested the water, keen to try and scrape through whenever even a millimetre presented itself. You struggled to watch after a while, terrified that you’d ultimately end up watching your boyfriend get seriously hurt.

You’d never felt so relieved when the race was finished, watching Lando drive back into the garage in fifth. When he climbed out the car he expected to see you ready to enter his open arms, but instead you remained rather standoffish with him, shooting him a glare.

“Well done,” you told him, your face flat, taking him by surprise.

“Try and be happy for me, yeah?”

“Sorry,” you coldly sighed, “can’t help it.”

Lando walks across and presses a kiss against your cheek before being pulled back to get weighed. He wanted to play dumb, but Lando knew just from the tone of your voice why you were upset with him, and truthfully, he understood why.

He kept looking at you as he finished off race proceedings, hoping for something from you. A couple of times you offered him a weak smile, but other than that you remained with Max, struggling to listen to Lando try and make excuses in the media pen for his erratic driving. Eventually Lando headed off to grab his things, leaving you and Max alone.

Max poked your side to get your attention, “try not to be too hard on him tonight.”

“But he was being stupid Max.”

“I know, but I can tell he regrets it.”

A sign came from you, “what was he thinking?”

“Probably just adrenaline,” Max tried to defend, “maybe he saw something there that we missed.”

The ride home was pretty silent between the two of you, Lando tried to make small talk but you were still unimpressed. You headed back to your hotel room, Lando following just behind to give you enough space. As soon as the door shut and you were all alone, he finally cleared his throat.

He waited for you to sit down, throwing himself down beside you before you could protest.

“You might as well say what you want to say.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Lando chuckled, “I already knew that.”

You shot a glare across at him.

Lando’s attempts to lighten the mood fell flat as you silently scolded him. The tight corners and near misses were part of the job, but what happened today took all of that to the extreme.

“I wasn’t going to crash,” Lando told you, reading your mind and figuring what you were thinking.

“How do you know that?”

“We’re professionals,” he reminded you.

Your eyes rolled as he tried to brush off what you were saying, trying his best to reassure you in his own Lando way.

After a few moments Lando shuffled across the sofa, resting his hand against your thigh. “Maybe things were a little too close for comfort today.”

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all day,” you hummed, “being a pro doesn’t mean being stupid.”

“I’m sorry if I made you worry about me.”

“I thought you were going to crash,” you sighed.

“I didn’t though.”

“My point is though, you could have,” you reminded him, keeping your voice firm. “That would be my worst nightmare Lando.”

Your admission took him by surprise, his eyes soften as he looks at you. The hand that was on your thigh moved to intertwine in with your own, Lando moved even closer towards you, nudging against your side. He could hear the hurt in your voice, terrified that your worst nightmare would end up coming true.

Lando squeezes gently against your hand, whispering your name. “Perhaps I let my frustrations get the better of me today, I should’ve been more careful and not risked anything dangerous happening.”

“I don’t ever want a repeat of Vegas Lan.”

“Me too, I don’t ever set out to do anything like that,” he assured you.

You nodded in reply to him. “I don’t know what I’d do if something ever did happen.”

“Hey, let’s not think about that.”

You went to speak but your voice faltered as Lando pulled you into his side. Luckily for you, Lando knew exactly what you were trying to say to him.

“I promise that I won’t do it again,” he whispered.

A smile of relief appears on Lando’s face as the corners of your mouth slowly turn up into a smile of your own. “I hate you for scaring me like that today,” you jokingly told him.

Lando’s head shook as you hit against his chest, trying your best to sound serious through the few giggles that escaped.

“You love me really,” Lando whispered, pressing a kiss against the side of your head.

You hummed back at him, “I do, that’s why I’d hate to ever see you get hurt.”

Lando cups against the side of your face, bringing you towards him for a gentle kiss as if to remind you one more time, he really was alright.

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

#f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 reaction #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #lando norris drabble #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 fic #formula one #f1 fic

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huggingkoalas · 9 months ago

Text

𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐭 | natasha romanoff

pairing — ‧₊˚ avenger!natasha romanoff x fem!avenger!reader

summary — ‧₊˚ riding a motorcycle should be similar to riding her face, right?

word count — ‧₊˚ 1.8k

warning(s) — ‧₊˚ smut, use of vibrators (using a literal motorcycle), mentions of ‘exhibitionist’/‘voyuerism’ kink, mentions/use of ‘mommy’ kink, pet names, teasing, cursing, established relationship, bottom!reader, top!natasha

authors note — ‧₊˚ am i going absolutely feral over nat's motorcycle scenes in age of ultron and black widow? yessir :P + this fic is inspired by this tiktok edit of nat too <3

“Will you teach me how to ride, Nat?” You asked, stopping your gentle scratches on her scalp.

Natasha, lying on the bed with her head on your lap, turned her attention from the movie playing on the television to you. Amused, she raised her eyebrows, her infamous smirk on her lips. “Are you talking about my face?”

You slapped her hard on the arm and shook your head in amusement. “I meant the motorcycle, you weirdo.”

“Ouch, that hurts.” Natasha hissed with a pout on her face.

Both you and Natasha knew she could handle physical pain since she was literally the Black Widow. Even if she didn’t have superpowers like Thor and the Hulk, she was still one of the most powerful women in the world. Fighting the desire to roll your eyes, you played along with her antics. You rubbed her arm, eyes twinkling in faux pity while mouthing ‘sorry’.

“I read the mission reports everyone sent from the Ultron Offensive mission. I had no idea you knew how to ride a motorcycle.” You remarked, continuing your featherlight strokes along her hair. You wish you were there that day. If you witnessed Natasha riding a motorcycle, skillfully navigating through traffic and avoiding danger, you’d be drooling right away.

“I guess it just never came up. I wouldn’t mind teaching you, though. It would be hot if you rode something other than my face.” Natasha teased.

“Nat!” Your cheeks turned bright red from her comment. “I-I mean, you’ll have to teach me the basics first, though. I don’t think I’m ready to drive one yet.”

The thought of driving a fast vehicle sent shivers down your spine. Despite feeling scared, you wanted to impress your girlfriend. Maybe if you tried something dangerous, like learning how to ride a motorcycle, she wouldn’t keep calling you a scaredy cat.

“I can teach you the basics now.” She replied, removing her head from your lap and sitting up.

“N-Now? You sure?” You hesitated. “I mean, sure, yeah, okay.”

You didn’t think she’d teach you how to ride a motorcycle now, but you weren’t complaining. Natasha intertwined your fingers with yours, dragging you to the garage quickly.

You could see the excitement in her eyes as she led you to the garage. The green in her eyes was brighter than usual, and you couldn’t help an endearing smile appearing on your face. Seeing this side of her made your heart melt. Sometimes, she reminded you of a puppy.

Your eyes adjusted to the amount of sunlight flittering through the ceiling-to-floor windows once you reached the garage. It was your first time here, and the spaciousness of the area amazed you. Numerous cars, including SUVs and Humvees, were lined neatly side-by-side. Your gaze immediately spotted the familiar black and red motorcycle you had read in her mission report.

“What’s its model again?” You asked, walking to the motorcycle and running your fingertips along the tank cover before resting your palm on the leather seat.

“It’s a Harley-Davidson LiveWire.” Natasha walked up behind you, resting her hands on your hips. “It’s brand new. The motorcycle from the mission got totalled, so Fury and Stark had to buy me another one.”

“Yeah, I know. I had to deal with financial reports afterwards. It’s... really expensive.” You turned your head to look up at her, leaning up to kiss the tip of her nose. “Only the best motorcycle for the best woman in the world.”

“Enough compliments or I’m bringing you to my room and showing you how much you’re the best woman all night.” Natasha husked, her teeth tugging at your earlobe. Her hot breath whispered in your ear, making you weak to your knees.

She released herself from behind you, her famous smirk on her face as she noticed your flustered state. “Alright, get on the motorcycle.” She said, her voice an octave lower than usual. You looked at Natasha, and she was looking at you with darkened eyes.

You both knew what that tone meant. It was the tone she would use on you when you were writhing on her sheets, moaning her name over and over again as she brought you to multiple orgasms. Both of you knew what the tone did to you. You’d willingly get on your knees and do anything she asked if she used that sultry voice again.

Clearing your throat to brush your mind off the filthy thoughts your brain had come up with, you inquired. “Won’t it tip over if I get on it?”

Natasha lets out a short laugh as you shoot her a nervous look. There’s a mixture of amusement and something else entirely in her green eyes. You're not sure. She’s making you even more nervous than you already are.

“See that little stick on the side propping up the bike?” With a nod of your head, she points to the black pedal holding the vehicle up. “That’s a kickstand. The bike doesn’t magically defy gravity, and it certainly doesn’t fly.”

You wanted to wipe the smug grin off Natasha’s face. Normally you’d make a snarky remark now, but instead, you let her off with a shrug.

“I promise to catch you if, for some reason, the kickstand doesn’t do its job, detka (baby).” The use of the pet name relaxes you a bit, and you nod your head.

“Fine, I trust you. Is there... A specific way to get on it?” You asked.

“Just mount it, lyubov’ (love). It’s the same as riding on my face.” Natasha replied in a teasing tone. Your head snaps towards her, and your cheeks warm. Her arms are crossed, and her biceps are clearly visible as she wears a black sleeveless sweater. You know you won’t survive the rest of the lesson if she acts (and looks) like this.

You grab the handles and slowly swing one leg over the seat. Your feet barely touch the ground, and you’re tiptoeing while sitting on the vehicle.

“I think the motorcycle is too tall for me.” You looked at her with a frown.

Natasha expertly climbs onto the bike behind you. “Shortie.” She taunts.

“Careful!” You exclaimed, holding onto the handlebars as the bike tilted left and right due to her movement.

You shift in your seat, getting used to the weird position. The motorcycle seemed larger between your thighs. Furthermore, there were a bunch of pedals, levers, and buttons. You were familiar with what the side mirrors do, but you were not sure what everything else does.

Your heart pounded in your ears. The seat slope caused Natasha's body to press up against you. You shudder slightly as you feel her breasts press up against your back. You tried to make yourself comfortable, but her breath against the back of your neck sent a small shiver down to your core.

“You’re so tense, detka (baby). Do I make you nervous?” She rests her chin on your shoulder, her hands running down your arms to take your hand in hers while you hold the handlebar.

“You’re sleeping on the couch if you don’t shut up right now, Nat.” You replied, gritting your teeth. As much as you liked her relentless teasing, the heightened adrenaline and fear in your body spiked your anxiousness.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry, lyubov’ (love). Let’s start the lesson then.” Natasha said, turning her attention back to the task at hand.

She turned the key in the ignition on. The rumbling of the motor startled you as the engine started to thrum softly beneath you.

“I’ll put it on neutral since you’re not driving.” She added.

You nodded your head. You had a license to drive a car, so you knew some driving language. But even though you had experience driving a car, you knew that riding a motorcycle was something completely different. You could feel your heart racing and your grip on the handlebars trembling slightly.

“The lever above the left handle is the clutch lever. The one on the right is the lever for the front brake.” Natasha continued, showing and explaining the parts and their functions.

You couldn't concentrate. The vibration of the engine below you and the slight vibration of the seat had your attention instead. You pursed your lips and nodded as you pretended to understand what she was teaching you.

Closing your eyes for a moment, your breath caught in your throat as Natasha’s lips touch the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “Are you listening to me?” She murmured against your skin.

You pursed your lips and speak shakily. “Y-Yes.”

Natasha smirked as she watched your face, she could clearly see that your mind was somewhere else entirely, exactly where she wanted it to be. “I can make you feel even better...”

“This is the throttle handle that gasses the motor.“ She taps a finger on the right handle. She slowly turns the handle towards you, her wrist applying pressure, and the engine revs louder.

“Shit, Nat-” You gasp out loud, the vibrations beneath you getting stronger the more she turns the handle. You feel even more wetness gathering in your panties.

“Nat,” You whimpered with desperation. “Please, I..I-”

You arch your body against her and throw your head back against her shoulder, enjoying the vibrations from the seat. Natasha almost moans at the sight of you aching for her. She gently pulls your shirt off, throwing it behind her. The cold air sends goosebumps down your arm and her left hand rests on your thigh, squeezing and kneading your clothed thigh.

“Shh... Quiet. You don’t want someone to walk on us like this, do you?” She warns you.

Your lungs are struggling for air as you gasp. Shame and desire course through your veins at the thought of someone catching the both of you in this position. You bite your bottom lip, biting it hard you think it might bleed.

“Want me to go faster?” She asks in a sultry voice. Without waiting for your response, she twists the handle down quickly, the seat pulsating quickly and louder.

Your torso jolts forward and you can’t stop the moan that leaves the back of your throat. Your panties and pants are sticking to you uncomfortably as the leather seat vibrates harshly against your folds. You’re rutting down onto the seat desperately, aching for release.

“I-I’m close, Nat, don’t stop, please-” You somehow manage to plead through the haze.

You moan loudly as she revs the engine loudly once more, and you scream ‘mommy’ as you orgasm, stars blinding your eyes as your body shakes with bliss. Your arousal sticks to your thighs and pools onto the leather seat below you as you come down from your high.

Natasha switches off the ignition once you finish tumbling over the edge. The vibration and the sounds from the motorcycle quiet down, and all you can hear is your increased heartbeat and the silence of the garage. You feel your legs and body twitch slightly from the orgasm.

You turned your head towards her, seeing a shit-eating grin on her face. “Wow, ‘Mommy’, huh? That’s a first.” She teased, licking her lips. “I’ll have so much fun cleaning the bike later.”

You groaned, hiding your face in her neck. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

#lumi’s fics!#marvel #mcu #the avengers #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #smut #wlw #fanfic #fanfiction

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unsolvedjarin · 1 year ago

Note

I was going through a Charles video that mentioned him blacking out in the car at some point. Since I’m a sucker for angst, I was wondering what it would be like for mentor!Seb if it were the reader in that situation instead. Perhaps the season before the one he retires? And maybe we could see more of the reader’s friendship with Charles? Only if you feel inspired by it, of course.

Either way, thank you for sharing your fics with us. They are my favorites and I’m really grateful for having found your blog.

gif by luchitohamilton

EVERY UNIVERSE.

pairing: (mentor! sebastian vettel x ferrari driver! reader) (charles leclerc x teammate! reader)

summary: qatar is a difficult, hot, and taxing track. that along with you having food poisoning, well…that might not end too well for you. thankfully you can always rely on sebastian and charles to be there for you.

word count: 4k

note: can you guys tell i took inspo from mark webber throwing up in his car and the qatar race this year? it was so sad to watch everyone seem so tired especially lance and logan. anyways, the plot kinda got away from me at the end, i do apologize but the seb feels were too intense 😵‍💫

content warning: car crash, mentions of throwing up, inaccurate depictions of food poisoning

part of this series but can be read without!

“Ready?”

A familiar voice makes you turn around from your pre-race preparations. “Depends on what your definition of ready is.”

Charles smiles, “I know it’s our first race in Qatar but c’mon, it isn’t that bad.”

“Isn’t that bad? I might melt in the car! Doesn’t help that I almost missed this one because of food poisoning.”

“Ah yes, how could I forget that,” he teases. He couldn’t forget it, because you’d been complaining about it endlessly for the past three days. You had food poisoning because Mark Webber invited you to lunch on Thursday, and accidentally gave you something dodgy. You’ve yet to forgive the man. “Well at least you’re starting from P4. Lets you fight for P1, no?”

“Against Lewis and Charles? Please. In my dreams, maybe. Plus, you’re starting P3, asshole.” You retort, turning back around to put your balaclava on. The second it’s on your head, though, it gets pulled off, and you look behind you for the perpetrator. “Charles give it b– SEBASTIAN!”

The Aston Martin driver gives you a grin before hugging you tightly, lifting you off the ground a bit. You didn’t expect to see him before the race, but the surprise was definitely welcome.

“Oh but if it was me I would have gotten scolded,” Charles mutters, but his complaints were left unheard.

“Just came to wish you luck before the race starts. P4! You’re going to get a podium, I’m sure of it,” Sebastian beams, letting you go from the hug.

“That’s what Charles said too. He was more delusionally optimistic, though. Said I was gonna win.”

“Because I believe in you! Is that so bad?” Charles complains from the side, his comment ignored once again.

“Well maybe Charles is right— you could win. Meanwhile I’m starting in the midfield, again.” Sebastian complains, groaning a little bit.

“Oh cheer up Seb, you survived Ferrari for 6 years, you’ll live.”

He lights up a bit at your joke, moving to say something before an Aston Martin mechanic shows up outside the Ferrari garage. He wasn’t allowed inside, but it was obvious he was looking for Sebastian– who also wasn’t allowed inside, yet mysteriously got in. Nothing to do with him being friends with your mechanics of course, yeah, totally not.

“Ah shoot, well it looks like they’re looking for me,” Sebastian sighs. He starts to walk away before he pauses and moves back towards you, “Hey, stay safe, okay? New track, it’s dangerous. I know we’ve done practice and quali but you can never be too careful. Plus, it’s sweltering hot. Hydrate.”

You roll your eyes fondly, “Yes, dad.”

His face scrunches up a little, “Don’t ever call me that again, I’m not that old.”

“You could barely work my Instagram the other day! All I asked was for you to open Lewis’ stories!”

“Psh, whatever. I have to go, see you after the race, yeah?” He asks, giving your arm a quick squeeze. You nod, murmuring a goodbye to him. He wishes Charles good luck too, before saving his engineer from the Ferrari mechanics blocking him.

“So he can pull your balaclava off– which you hate, by the way, let me remind you– but if I even try adjusting your helmet straps so it’s safer you slap me off?” Charles speaks up, making you break eye contact from the Ferrari garage doors.

You roll your eyes at him with a smile, “You have got to forget that. It was one time. And it was a soft slap to the shoulder!”

“The point still stands,” he retorts, making you give up on the conversation.

“Whatever, Charlie. Just get ready for the race. Stay safe, okay?” you say, putting your balaclava on again. He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving, a sign of good luck between the two of you. It makes you smile a little before you hop into your car.

Okay. Qatar. New track, new conditions, but still the same old you. You could do this.

The lights go off one by one, and you grip the steering wheel with anticipation like you always did. Race starts still made you nervous no matter how long you’d been racing. One light goes off…then the next…then the third…the fourth one follows…and then…

“AND IT’S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO!”

The first few laps were a breeze, maintaining your position in fourth despite Fernando being on your tail the whole time. You noticed the car was slightly hotter than usual, but decided to ignore it and chalk it up to new changes in the engine.

Around lap 25 you started to feel a bit dizzy and sick during the sharp corners, cursing yourself internally for having such bad timing with the food poisoning. “Charles is 0.200 seconds ahead, feel free to overtake,” your engineer buzzes through the radio.

“Copy,” you reply, not really paying attention, still feeling sick. You overtake Charles with ease around the outside, him not putting up much of a fight because it would have taken both of you out. Now you just had to maintain this position for…dear god, 32 laps.

“Lewis 5 seconds ahead, focus on tire degradation instead.” Your engineer’s warning goes unheard, though, as you noticed the cockpit was getting way too fucking hot.

“The car’s burning up,” you say into your radio, getting only a simple “Copy, we are checking,” back.

“Okay, Y/N there are no problems with your engines, I repeat; no problem.”

What? That’s impossible. You felt like you were melting in there. “Are you sure? Can you ask Charles if his car feels like the sun too?”

“Negative, focus on the race.”

Oh you were going to kill them one day– if they don’t kill you first. A few more laps passed in those horrible conditions before turn 5 rolled around and as you swerved your car, you started to see black spots around your vision.

That can’t be good, you think, having to close your eyes for a second before shaking your head and snapping yourself back into the race. Thankfully Charles had pitted earlier and had a 3 second gap to you. “I don’t feel too well.”

“Copy. Is it the car?”

“Well it’s definitely part of the problem.”

The next few turns were torture, your head bobbing around as you faded in and out of consciousness through the fast corners. Charles was catching up now, and you knew if you didn’t do something soon, he would pass you.

You wanted this podium. You needed it. If you got P3 you would grab P4 on driver standings.

There was a slow corner coming up that was a good overtaking spot, and so you had to defend.

As the turn came around– faster than you expected– the extreme heat of the car, your headache, sweat, food poisoning, and dizziness came together and you suddenly felt light, as if you were flying, before a jolt knocked you out of your consciousness completely.

You were out for less than a minute, but that minute counted for everything. You completely turned into Charles, him having to swerve onto the gravel just so you wouldn’t crash into each other. Your car, however, still had more speed in it, and you were headed towards the wall on the very far side of the gravel.

Thankfully, the rough rocks had shook you awake enough that you were able to swerve away from the wall extremely last minute and only take the tail and back wheel of your car out.

The next few seconds were a blur.

You still felt faint, but could hear a muffled voice headed towards you. You knew the back of your car was completely ruined and you were out of the race, and you put your helmet in your hands in disappointment. You were having such a good run before this happened. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The muffled voice running towards you was closer now, and you registered it to be Charles. He was saying something but you could barely hear him with how your ears were ringing and how the seat of the car was still hot.

The man quickly realized you weren’t hearing him, and opted to come closer and lift your visor up. “Smoke. Car. Get out!”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. You pushed yourself up but barely, Charles having to lift you up by your shoulders. Once out of the car you completely collapsed on the floor, only having your teammate catch you.

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” you say drowsily, still fighting the urge to pass out.

“Safety car is coming, stay with me now,” he replies, tapping your helmet so you stay awake. You were grateful your friend was there with you.

On track, however, Sebastian had just been informed of what went down. “What the fuck? What happened?”

“L/N completely turned into Leclerc. Driver error, push on for P9.”

Sebastian hated how his engineer sounded like a robot reporting a technical statistic. He saw the aftermath of the accident for a split second, and it didn’t look like your car was in good shape. He worries about what shape you were in. “Are they okay?”

“Safety car is coming out for L/N and to crane the car, but other than that they seem fine.”

“Injuries?”

“Please focus on the race, Sebastian.”

“INJURIES!” he shouts into his radio, annoyed. He wouldn’t be able to focus on the race until he knew you were alright.

“Uh…L/N seems to be out of it and on the floor, but they’re okay. They’ll be fine, Seb.” His engineer adds the last statement to reassure the man. He knew you meant a lot to him. Seb nods to himself in the car, carrying on with the race. The faster this finished the faster he could get to you.

The safety car came out and they all slowed down, Sebastian finally being able to take a second long look at the accident. Your car was still there, the smoke coming out of it being extinguished by a personnel. Sebastian thinks he ought to have a word with the Ferrari mechanics after the race. He then notices you, on your knees in the gravel, only being kept up by a driver he can only assume to be Charles. Sebastian thinks that should be him there supporting you, but at the same time he’s glad he wasn’t the one who you nearly crashed into. He couldn’t have it on his consciousness that he could have hit you.

“‘m sorry for ruining your race,” you mumble, still being held up by Charles. The man shakes his head, “It was ruined before that, don’t worry. My engine was acting up.”

You knew he was lying to make you feel better, his engine was completely fine. He was headed for the podium earlier, his first in a while. And you completely botched his chance to get it. The thought makes you sob a little, along with the fact that you ruined your own race.

Crying wasn’t the greatest thing to do, though, as it only made you more lightheaded. Charles notices this and takes your helmet off for you, despite your protests pre-race. You were grateful that he did, though, as the second he took your helmet and balaclava off you felt like you had a breath of fresh air for the first time.

“Better?”

You nod, unable to speak. You still felt dizzy and sick. Charles felt annoyed that the safety personnel were taking so long to get to you, waving them over to walk quicker. Squinting your eyes a little, you find them with some health personnels, and you sink a little lower into the gravel.

“God not again,” you groan, remembering the events that unfolded back in Spa. You did not need to go to the medical tent. As you attempt to get up, however, you fall back down as your vision blurred. Looks like medical tent it is again.

The rest of the race went particularly well. Lewis won the race and Fernando got his first podium since 2014– which you reminded yourself to congratulate him for once you were out of the medical tent– and Seb ended up P9, a position higher than where he started. That would usually be a mediocre result but with his shitty car, you were pretty impressed.

“Water?” A familiar voice makes you look away from the TV screen in the room. Charles sat beside your bed, holding a plastic bottle of water. You nod and take it from him, chugging the cool liquid down.

“Sorry again for ruining your race,” you say as you finish drinking. Charles shakes his head, “Stop apologizing. You passed out, that was no fault of yours.”

“You passed out!?” A loud concerned voice makes both of you snap your head towards the door of the room. Sebastian stood there, still in his race suit like the both of you, a shocked look on his face.

“Is that what happened? You passed out mid race?” He asks again, but this time softer. He walks towards your medical bed– which you insisted you didn’t need– before putting his hand on your forehead to check if you had a fever. The action makes you giggle, but Sebastian had a serious look that shut you up quickly.

He shakes his head with a sigh, “You have a bit of a fever.”

“Any other fun observations?”

Sebastian didn’t seem to be in the mood for your wit, though. “You could have been injured. Just a few meters and you could have fully hit the wall. If you were just a few seconds late waking up you would have–”

He shuts his eyes and stops himself. He didn’t want to think about what could have happened anymore. His voice got wobbly during the end of his statement, making you realize that he was stopping himself from crying. You absentmindedly sit up and reach for his hand, squeezing it gently.

“I’m here, Seb. And I’m fine. Look at me.”

The older driver does, slowly opening his eyes. You squeeze his hand a second time, a soft smile on your lips. “I’m here. And look, I’m completely fine. You’re not getting rid of me that quickly old man.”

Seb lets out a chuckle at that, moving to hug you tightly.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he mumbles into your hair. “Why did you even pass out?”

“I was already a little dizzy before getting in the car because of the heat but I tried ignoring it. The car was overheating too and it made me dehydrated, I think. My drink pouch wasn’t a lot of help either when the water was steaming hot. Plus…” you trail off, not really wanting to talk ill of Webber.

“Mark gave her food poisoning when he took her to lunch,” Charles butted in, making you give him a look. You forgot he was in the room.

“Mark? As in Webber?” Sebastian asks, Charles nodding in response. “The bastard.”

“Oh c’mon Seb, he just wanted to treat me to lunch. It’s not like he poisoned my food on purpose.”

Seb sighs deeply before agreeing, “You’re right. Sorry. I’m just– I don’t know.”

“I get it. I mean, this is my second time at the medical tent in three months. Makes you think how accident prone I am,” you joke. Sebastian laughs, and you’re glad you got the worried look in his face away.

“The one in Spa was completely your fault, but we may have to pin this one on Mark,” Seb teases. You shoot him a grin, “Yeah, we can say that.”

Before you could talk more, though, a PR person from both Ferrari and Aston Martin came in to fetch Charles and Sebastian.

“What about me?” you ask, getting up from your bed. It wasn’t like you were injured or anything, you were just a little sick and had a bit of a stomach ache. You’d already thrown up earlier, so you felt pretty normal now.

“Sorry, we have orders to keep you here.”

You scoff, “Please. What can they do if I walk out?”

Before the Ferrari PR agent could reply, though, you were already out the room. She stands there helpless, making Sebastian and Charles chuckle to each other before following you. You were always stubborn when you wanted to be.

The second you’re out of the medical tent, camera flashes overwhelm your eyes. You walk past them as you always do, but the contrast of the light to the night sky makes you a bit lightheaded again, having to hold Sebastian’s arm for support. He moves your hand from his arm to his own hand, interlocking it with yours and pull you through the crowd. There were no words needed to be said, he always knew what you needed. You’re starting to think he can read minds.

Once past the annoying lot of cameras, you make it to the media pen where at least they pestered you in a more civil way. The interviewers were all over you and Charles, looking for some inside scoop on ‘Ferrari drama.’ Turns out, the media thought you tried to purposely take Charles out a la brocedes style. Because of this you had to clarify to every person you talked to that, “No, I did not try to take Charles out on purpose. I passed out. We’re good. Yes, we’re still friends.”

Once that was all over, you headed over to the Channel 4 area to give a certain someone a piece of your mind. “Mark Webber.”

The man turns around to the mention of his full name, smiling when he notices who it is. “Y/N! Glad you’ve come and joined us! We’re on in about five minutes, we can do a segment about the crash but if you wanna talk about something else on screen that’s fine too, we can–”

“You gave me food poisoning!” you butt in. “I cannot believe you.” His coworkers give him a look, as if they were holding in a laugh at him being scolded.

Mark stands there with his mouth agape, unsure what to say. “Wasn’t that three days ago? Are you sure it’s me?”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “Yes, I’m sure it’s you. It started three days ago, and guess who I was with when I ate something unusual three days ago? Oh right, it’s you!”

He pauses for a moment before bursting into laughter, trying to cover his mouth to no avail. “Sorry, it’s not funny that you almost crashed, I’m glad you’re safe, but– ha!– I cannot believe it was because of the dodgy Indian food!”

You gave him a shove, trying to act mad, but the smile on your face betrayed you. His laughter was contagious. “You are such an asshole.”

“Awh cheer up,” he gives you a side hug, ruffling your hair a little. “Sorry for giving you food poisoning, mate. I’ll make it up to you, whaddya think about lunch on me tomorrow?”

You escape his side hug when you hear him say that, “Absolutely not! I’m never trusting you again with food recommendations.”

The statement makes him laugh again, and you chuckle along with him. Hard to be mad at someone who didn’t do it on purpose. Sebastian walked over to the two of you, having watched the interaction from afar.

“Look who’s coming over,” Mark mumbled, making you notice Seb trying to pretend to just ‘bump’ into the two of you. “Still competitive ‘till now, eh? Don’t worry, I’m not trying to out-mentor you,” Mark says out loud, grabbing the attention of the German.

Seb tilts his head with a faux oblivious look, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He grabs you by the arm and ‘discreetly’ pulls you over to his side. ‘No idea’ my ass.

The Australian scoffs with a grin, “Whatever you say mate. Listen, I gotta get back because our feed is going live in a few minutes, but you two take care, alright? Nice to see you again Seb.”

“You too, Mark.” Sebastian replies, this time genuinely. While the media knew the two drivers were now on good terms, they didn’t know just how close they had gotten. The two went bowling at least once every two months just to catch up with each other, you being there for half their competitions– yes, they still competed. Apparently that sense of wanting to beat your former teammate does not go away. So far this year, Mark’s been winning.

Before Mark completely walked away, he looked back at you for a second, “Oh, and, I am happy you got out injury free from that nasty crash. Genuinely glad you’re okay. Sorry that my dodgy food contributed to your sickness.”

You wave him off, “It’s fine, Mark. It’s not like you could’ve known I would get food poisoning. Although, next time maybe check online reviews.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiled, waving you a goodbye as he ran to his coworkers who were already getting impatient.

You shake your head with a grin, “Well at least that’s over with.”

Sebastian slings his arm around your shoulder, “True. So want to get dinner?”

“Absolutely not. I think I’m done with food for a good while.”

“Well you have to eat something,” he insists, as you both walk through the paddock. “How about we get room service?”

“Eh, it’s late, I don’t really want a repeat of Monaco 2019.”

Monaco 2019 was when you and Seb got room service at 10pm because you didn’t check the time. Safe to say the staff weren’t very happy with that. You both felt so bad while eating that food.

“We can just get McDonalds then,” you suggest.

“McDonalds?” Charles asks, popping out from god knows where.

“Jesus, where the hell were you hiding? The atoms?” You ask.

“I was here the whole time.”

“You were not,” Sebastian comments. Charles simply shrugs, tagging along with the two of you, not caring that he was obviously third wheeling a moment. “So McDonalds?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, McDonalds. But you’re paying because you’re tagging along.”

“No fair! Sebastian is richer than me!”

You both give Charles a look at the same time. Charles thinks it’s eerie how alike the two of you were.

“Charles,” Sebastian starts, patting the Monegasque’s back with one arm with his other still slung around your shoulders. Your accident made him very clingy, but you weren’t about to tell him that. “Let me phrase this as nicely as I can; you are from Monaco. You are rich.”

Charles lets out a sigh, “Fine. I’ll buy the food.”

You clap, “Fuck yeah! Food on the rich man!”

“We have the same salary in our contracts?”

“Shh, that’s not important,” you say, shushing Charles. “Food on the rich man! Although, we may have to go to the hotel right after and just get take out. I can feel Mark’s Indian food from three days ago still fighting with me.”

Charles is the one to roll his eyes this time, “I’ll get the car so we can get there faster, your highness.”

“Thank you, Lord Perceval.”

“Don’t call me that!” he shouts, already walking away to the parking lot.

That left you and Sebastian alone again, just enjoying the company of one another, walking slowly down the paddocks. There were few people now, most having gone back to their hotels to call it a night.

“You know, I’m glad I found you.”

The words make you look up at the older driver, who you find smiling at you. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean obviously we would find each other, there’s only so many drivers in Formula One. But I mean I’m glad I found you in this life.”

“Do you think we don’t find each other in other lives?”

Sebastian pauses and thinks for a second. He’s thought about the other career paths he could have taken throughout his life– other lives he could have lived. He knows there’s no logical way, but he thinks he still would have found you in those lives. The thought makes him smile to himself.

“No, I think we do.”

“Well then good. Because me too,” you reply, giving him a smile of your own. “Why did you suddenly think about it though?”

Sebastian shrugs, “I don’t know. I just felt suddenly sentimental. Feels like a chapter of my life closed but I’m not sure what or why.”

Little did he know that he would start contemplating retirement a few weeks after that.

“Oh well, it doesn’t matter. Whether we find each other in other lifetimes, I mean.”

Seb raises his eyebrow, him now being the one confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we’re both here now. Enjoying each other’s company. Why bother thinking about versions of ourselves in other universes when we’ve got each other in this one?”

Sebastian gives you the most genuine, softest smile at that. “I love you, I don’t tell you that enough.”

You scrunch your face, “Ew. Sounds like a love confession. Sorry but you’re too old for me.”

“You know what I mean. I love you but not in that way. That’s just gross,” Sebastian says, hitting your shoulder.

“Relax old man, I’m just teasing,” you giggle, trying to avoid his hit. “Love you too. Ew. Sorry, not great with verbal affection. Pretty sure that just made me throw up a bit, and that’s not even with the help of the food poisoning.”

Sebastian just shakes his head, “Okay c’mon now, Charles will be annoyed with how slow we’re walking.”

Later that night, the three of you watched a cheesy romcom while sharing a shit load of fries and chicken nuggets. As you carried on through the night you thought to yourself that despite the hardships of F1, the crashing, the disappointments, the injuries– it brought you a second family you never thought you’d have. And you wouldn’t trade it for any other universe.

Although, maybe a universe where you didn’t get food poisoning.

#sebastian vettel #charles leclerc #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #formula one #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #f1 imagine

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vivwritesfics · 6 months ago

Text

Set The World On Fire

Chapter Fifteen

Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.

He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger

Warnings: Stalking

Mafia AU

1.4K

Warnings: Smut, p in v

Series Masterlist

A guy had never asked her to move in with him before. She hadn't spent much time imagining how it would go, but she had some sort of idea.

A guy getting down onto one knee and presenting her with a key. A guy asking her after a good bit of sex. Asking over dinner, asking as they just watched a movie. Simple things like that.

She didn't imagine it like this. Didn't imagine standing by the front door of her apartment, her boyfriend looking through the peephole with one arm wrapped around her shoulders. He held her against his chest as his other hand reached for his gun.

They were silent, waiting. All the time that Lando looked through the peephole she knew that the stalker was still there, was still watching them.

Tears ran down her cheeks. She gripped his white shirt, the shirt that he wore beneath his suit, and cried.

But then Lando let go of his gun and wrapped his other arm around her. "Baby," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. "It's okay. He's gone."

"He followed me from the shop, Lan," she whispered, head against his chest.

He kept his nose against the top of her head and breathed in. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, his own eyes falling closed. It was his fault. His fault that she was getting followed home. If he'd just left her alone that night at his club, she'd be safe.

"Move in with me," he said suddenly. "My house is safe. I've got a new security system set up. It's, uhm..." He squeezed her as he searched for the words.

She wiped her tears away from her cheeks. "Impenetrable?" She suggested as she looked up at that.

Lando scrunched his nose up as he looked down at her. "Yeah, that," he said and kissed her.

He stayed by the door while she packed a bag. His eyes were on the window, gun at the ready, or he was looking through the peephole.

Emerging from the bedroom, she walked over with her bag on her shoulder. "Is that everything you need?" He asked as he took the bag from her.

She looked around her apartment, lip pulled between her teeth. Breathing deep, she nodded. "I can move out of here when I'm not being stalked," she mumbled and took his hand.

Lando held her hand. He had his gun out as he led her down the halls. The entire time they were walking down the hall, she squeezed his hand tight. But Lando didn't much care. He squeezed her back the entire way to her car.

Throwing her bag into the back, Lando drove. The car was silent, and she looked around everywhere like a startled deer. "I've got you," he said quietly, hand coming to settle on her thigh. She clamped her legs together but it wasn't sexual. No, it was just to keep him there. The way his thumb moved was so soothing, but it did little to calm her.

She hardly recognised the area Lando was driving through. She may have lived there for her entire life, but she didn't know this area in the slightest. And then they came to the grand manor house, surrounded by high gates.

They drove up to the gates and Lando pulled his hand from between her thighs. He punched the number into the keypad and the gate swung open. Lando drove through.

God, he didn't think he'd be back here so soon. As he drove towards the house, towards the garage, he couldn't stop himself from wishing for just five more minutes in the save haven of her apartment. But it wasn't a safe haven anymore, was it?

Lando parked in the garage. Her car amongst his expensive and beautiful collection looked ridiculous, but she didn't notice it as Lando grabbed her bag from the back of the car, took her hand, and led her to the house.

The house. It was beautiful, but she couldn't take that in, either. Every little noise had her jumpy. With his arm around her, Lando took her straight through to his bedroom.

Lando's bedroom was not the bedroom of a man. It was the same bedroom that he'd had since he was a teenager, with posters of actresses and race cars all over his bedroom. It was so cute and somehow comforting. It was cute. It was Lando.

"Sorry," he said and pulled at the bottom of one of his race car posters, pulling it away from the wall. "I meant to take these down but everything got a bit..."

She grabbed one of his pillows and squeezed it against her chest. "Leave it," she mumbled as she touched his duvet. It needed a wash, not desperately, but she knew that the smell was going to comforting.

Lando stepped away from his posters. He sat beside her, pulled the pillow away from her chest and took her trembling hands. "You're okay, baby," he said, thumb moving over the back of her hand. "You're safe here. 'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

She looked to the shut door and back at Lando. And then she was on him, pushing him down onto his back as she climbed on top of him, straddling him. "Help me take my mind off of it?" She asked as she pulled her shirt over her head and threw it to the floor.

Lando's hands grabbed her hips and squeezed. "Are you sure, baby?" He asked as her hips slowly began moving.

Instead of answering, she leaned forward, hands on his chest as she kissed him. Lando kissed her back. He moved his hands from her hips, cradling her against him.

But then his hands travelled down. Down over her shoulders, down to her bra strap. He fiddled with it until it gave and let his hands travel further, down her back and into her trousers. His hands settled over her ass as she opened the buttons on his white shirt.

The minute she got her hands against her skin, she dragged her nails down his chest. A groan left his lips and she pulled away from him, sitting up straight. Lando sat up with her and she pushed his suit jacket and shirt from his shoulders.

"Wanna mark you up," she whispered as she leaned forward again, pressing her lips against his neck.

She had the leader of the Norris family beneath her as she sucked dark purple marks all over his neck and shoulders. Moans and gasps and whines left his lips as she worked him, hips moving.

Even as her hips moved, Lando popped the button on her trousers and pushed his hand beneath the fabric. "Fuck!" She gasped as he felt through her folds. But her lips quickly returned to the purple bruise on his shoulder.

"I got you, baby," he whispered and pushed her trousers down with her underwear. "Need you bad."

She pulled away from his shoulder and sat back, admiring her work. "You look so pretty," she whispered and ran her nails down his chest again.

It didn't take long before Lando was naked beneath her. She held him still as she sank down onto him. A sigh left her lips and she threw her head back, eyes shutting. "Fuuuuuck, I love you," she whispered and looked down at him.

"I love you," he replied and look her hands in his own.

Lando held her hands in his own as she rode him. It was was slow and sweet, every movement sending sparks up their spines. They didn't speak outside of their 'I love you's', moans and whines filling the bedroom.

Lando's bedroom.

No, their bedroom.

Lando touch her, his hand on her clit as he tried to ensure that she came before he did. She pitched forward, whines high pitched as Lando pushed her over the edge.

He came not long after her. As soon as she had finished she stilled, energy drained. But Lando held her, moved her body on top of her as he spilled inside of her.

He didn't pull out right away, kept her held against his chest, cock still inside of her. "'m gonna protect you," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. She looked up, slowly blinked and moved her lips towards her own.

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taesanluv3r · 3 months ago

Text

youthful rebellion

han taesan x reader

reader and secret bf!taesan rebel against their strict parents :3 inspired by the dangerous mv! stealing a car, driving without a license, making-out (sort of, it's implied) gets pretty silly at the end...as expected from a fic by me LMAO lowercase intended. pls excuse any grammatical mistakes or spelling errors! enjoyyyy

wc: 2,279

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"wanna do something crazy?"

han taesan and yn ln. two chaotic teens tied by the ropes of their suburban neighbourhood. born to be living and loving their youth- staying out till sunrise with their best-friends, going to parties and getting shit-faced- but forced to be home by their early curfews set by their strictly rule-driven parents. the list of dos and don'ts go beyond anyone's field of vision.

DO: study hard, get good grades, eat healthy foods and sleep early. DON'T: date, sleep around, drink, get home after 8pm...and definitely DO NOT even think about stealing your parents' car.

"depends what 'crazy' is..." yn replies to the boy on the other line of the phone-call. it was almost midnight, all the lights in the neighbourhood had been turned off and everyone was asleep. well, everyone except the two teenagers who, unlike everyone else, refused to retire into their beds. "like...sneak out and steal a car kind of crazy?" taesan's rebellious suggestion shocks her, a silent gasp escaping her mouth. she can hear him laugh, "what? too risky?"

yn moves from her bed to sit on her desk in front of her window. the window that was directly adjacent to his own one. "open your curtain, i wanna see you" she whispers, just in case her parents weren't as deaf as she thought. "mhm" taesan responds quickly before his face comes into view from the house across hers.

they share a smile, stupidly waving at each other. yn blushes when the boy blows her a flying kiss- something both their parents would yell at them for...but mom and dad never had to know, they could go about their secret relationship the way they have been for the past few months since they started dating. behind their backs, staying on the phone all night, and communicating from the window. they don't mind it in the slightest- i mean, how else were they supposed to do it? if they were out together in the day, it'd only be a matter of time before their strict parents figured it out and forbid them from ever seeing each other again. the pair won't lie though, sometimes they wish they could just...rebel.

"what's a pretty girl like you thinking so hard about right now, hm?'' yn could see his mouth move, but the sound only came from out her phone's speaker. "um...nothing" but taesan doesn't believe her for a second. "you can't seriously be considering the sneaking out thing i was talking about...can you?" she doesn't even need to answer. in fact, the fact that she didn't was proof alone that she was indeed thinking about it. the girl looks up to see her boyfriend, only to find him shuffling around his bedroom. her eyebrows furrowed, "what're you doing?" it's silent for a second, but she can see him throw on his sweater.

"come meet me by my garage, we'll take my dad's car"

the girl can't believe her ears, too stunned that she had accidentally zoned out for a moment, only to regain consciousness when she caught a glimpse of the boy waving his hand around at her from his window. "hello? darling, if you're not up for it we don't have-" he was cut off, "no! meet you in 5?" his toothy grin shined brightly, her own one just as pearly white.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

it didn't take long for yn to successfully sneak out of her house. she had taken out the battery on the automatic lock about a year ago without her parents knowing, and as it turned out they were much deeper sleepers than she had thought. if she had known sneaking out were this easy, she probably would've done it way before this.

according to plan, the girl quietly walks over to the neighbouring home. she waits by the opened garage, the lights were still off and there was no sign of her boyfriend. 'hope he didn't get caught...' just as the thought crossed her mind, the squeak of a door, followed by soft footsteps enter her ears- and before long, appears her tall and pale, handsome boyfriend.

"hey" he says excitedly, though his voice is hushed and his breathing was heavy. "hi" she mumbles when he engulfs her into his arms. "sorry i took so long, my dad kept the keys on his bed-side table and i had to tip-toe around him...think his snores were loud enough to drown out the noise though" he laughs coming to the end of the sentence, as does she. "c'mon, we better go before it's too late"

as quiet as humanly possible, the pair made it into the car without creating a ruckus. "damn...okay" yn sighs, letting out the breath she didn't even know she was holding. "right...so..." it was silent all of a sudden, the teens staring blankly at the dashboard in front of them. taesan in the driver's seat just as clueless as yn in the passenger's. "so like...are you gonna drive or...?" the girl asks, her gaze moving from the inert wheel to the boy who had his hands wrapped around it. "um...well, i don't really have a license...but...it shouldn't be that hard right?"

normally, the girl would freak out and maybe start a fight but, for whatever reason, all she could bring herself to do right now was...laugh. he did as well, their hysterics muted by the walls of the car, hiding them from the ears of the neighbourhood. "i believe in you" yn says, pressing a motivational kiss to his cheek. taesan finds it ticklish, scrunching his nose at the feeling. "alright..." he begins, sticking in the key to start the car. the engine makes a roaring sound that the pair swears the whole world could probably hear. it gets their hearts racing, the adrenaline rush finally kicking in. "you ready?" he asks, looking for one last bit of reassurance from his girlfriend and his foot over the pedal as he adjusts his posture. she nods at him,

"let's get outta here"

with that, the boy begins to drive, silently making their way out of the garage and onto the road, headed out to the main street. he gets the hang of the steering wheel rather quickly, all their doubts and worries flying straight out the window as they accelerated out of their sleepy neighbourhood.

"oh my god...can't believe we did that" taesan says, looking back at the houses that got smaller and smaller behind them. yn laughs, "eyes on the road, babe" she reminds him, beginning to snoop through the glove compartment for something to put into the CD slot of the radio. "mj...more mj...nirvana...and...'dangerous youth'? what's that?" his girlfriend's question grabs taesan's attention as the car came to a halt at a red-light. "let me see" he says, grabbing the unfamiliar disc from her. "looks like one of my dad's old mixtapes...looks older than me!" the boy hands the thing back over to the girl, moving the car from parking mode as the light turned green.

"should we put it on?"

it takes a minute for the radio to read the disc, a slight buzzing sound entering their ears at it spun within the machine. it's silent for a moment, the orange-ish light of the music-player blinking the words: track 01. a sense of familiarity hit their spines as the first beat of the song played, followed by infamous lyrics that just about anyone could recognize.

'we don't need no education...'

"oh, pink floyd!" as expected from the boy's music-loving father, the band's hit song of the late 70s, Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2. the rebellious teens bounced their heads to an anthem that fit all too well with their actions right now, the boy's fingers tapping against the wheel and the girl playing an imaginary set of drums while they sang along to the tune.

"hey teacher! leave them kids alone!"

the pair drove for about an hour, not a clue where they were even headed. "there's a cliff around the edge of the street, wanna stop there?" taesan asked, turning to look at yn who was staring out the window. "mhm, we could watch the sunrise"

before long they had arrived by the cliff. the car parked beside the road, and the two of them sitting right beside each other on a small patch of grass. it was well into one o' clock in the morning at that point, the skies still dark and the stars bright as ever, decorating the space around the moon.

"the moon is so pretty, isn't it?" yn says, suddenly moved by the atmosphere. it was quiet and cold outside, the only other sound apart from the pair that stayed awake, was the wispy winds against the crispy leaves. "and it'll never lose it's beauty" her eyes turn away from the shining orb of light and over to his, who had been looking at her the whole time. their breaths are heavy, the beating of their hearts loud enough for the both of them to hear. "yn...can i kiss you?" his simple inquiry of consent was enough to melt all her insides. she looks at him with eyes that shined just as the moon did.

"please"

taesan wasted no time in pulling her close. her hands in his hair as his own travelled down to her waist. their lips found place in each other's just as quickly, leaving no room for air as their tongues danced a pas de deux within the caves of their mouths. yn tumbles forward, pushing his body down onto the grass, never separating from each other, like they've been starved for years before this.

"yn..." he says, his mouth free to speak when she moves over to his neck. the girl stops for a moment, sitting up straight to look him in the eyes again. the boy's mouth opens to continue, "i love you" she smiles, pulling him close again. "i..." she breathes heavily, kissing him more, "love..." their noses hit each other, and the thin hairs on their bodies create fiction; a ticklish feeling rumbling up in her belly.

"...love you too"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"you think they've noticed we're gone by now?" yn asks, fingers swirling around atop his abdomen, her head on his chest as they laid on the grass. "probably" taesan replies, yawning softly as his hands run through his girlfriend's hair. "think they'll never let us see each other again?" this time he giggles, the vibrations of which go straight to the side of her face. "totally"

yn pouts as she sits up, looking down at the smiling boy with a look of sadness. "aw, baby..." he teases, grabbing her hand to pull her back down towards him. "if they do that to us we'll just have to sneak out again, right?" she sighs, "i guess so...'' the couple falls silent as the pale sky turns orange. the bright sun began to rise, signaling the pair that just as the traces of last night started to disappear, so must their youthful rebellion.

"c'mon" the boy says, helping the girl up. the teens entered the car, a deja-vu sort of feeling coursing through their veins as memories of their midnight adventures flashed over their brains. yn yawns this time, reaching forward to grab her phone from the compartment below the radio. "ah!" she winces when the brightness of the screen shocks her sensitive eyes, taesan laughs at her before reaching for his own phone.

"yikes...thirty missed calls and a hundred and two messages..." she sighs, scrolling through the thousands of notifications from her parents last night. the boy beside her scoffs, "only thirty?" he asked exaggeratedly, earning a worried look in return. "try sixty missed calls and two hundred texts...!"

the couple shares a fit of laughter as they came up with about a million different scenarios for their parents' reaction to them returning home. "no, no! my mom would definitely cry!" she'd say, and he'd shake his head. "not as badly as my dad would!"

han taesan and yn ln quieted down, staring out the main window of the vehicle. "think we'll be grounded?" he asked, as if it weren't obvious. "probably" she replied. the pair turned to face each other, identical smiles placed against their lips. the girl leaned in, pulling him by the collar of his sweater to kiss him- and they continued to kiss for another fifteen or so minutes, until they both desperately needed to breathe again. she giggled, as did he, looking at each other happily as they spoke the same two words.

"worth it"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"you know, i thought when they said 'you two will pay for this!' they meant something a lot worse..." yn said, squeezing out the excess soap from her sponge. "yeah...thought they were gonna cage us in our rooms for the rest of our lives and board up our windows or something...but this? this isn't bad at all!" taesan follows, wiping a bit of sweat that dripped down his face. "in fact..." he says, moving to wrap his arms around the girl. "i quite like washing cars with you"

she giggles at his words, closing her eyes when he presses a kiss to her nose. "i quite like it too..." this time they kissed on the lips, the sponges dropped onto the floor, not at all phased by the foam-y soap that got all over their clothes.

"HEY! I SAID CLEAN THE CAR NOT KISS! THAT'S RIGHT, GET BACK TO WORK!" the boy's dad yells from the front door of their home, shocking the teens for a second before they broke out into laughter.

"tsk...those blasted kids"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

AHHH dangerous is so so good and i love tht mv so so much :3!!! also i actually asked my dad on advice for song choices for tht part when they discover ts' dad's mixtape LMAOO he suggested pink floyd's song and then added tht if it were HIM stealing a car w his gf as a teen it'd be 21+ love songs 😭😭 dad PLS! anyways hope u enjoyed!! reblogs n feedback r so appreciated <3 love, kona.

#kona's work ♡#boynextdoor #boynextdoor drabbles #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor x reader #taesan #taesan x reader #boynextdoor taesan #bnd taesan #han dongmin #han taesan #bnd x reader

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freelancearsonist · 9 months ago

Text

Parts and Labor

➔ Eddie Munson x fem!Reader - 5k

➔ Eddie’s van is practically falling apart, but he doesn’t have the heart to replace it. Luckily for him, you’re willing to put in the effort to fix it—as long as he helps.

➔ Rated MA for unprotected p in v sex (don’t do this irl pls), oral (f receiving), heavy petting, creampie, fingering, cumplay, Eddie has scars and lies about where he got them, reader has female anatomy and uses fem pronouns, reader is a mechanic [please let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

“SHIT, FUCK!”

Eddie slams down the hood of his van, kicks the front tire as hard as he can, then winces–both at the sudden pain in his foot and at the overreaction.

“Come on baby, please,” he pleads futilely to the unresponsive engine. “I’ll give you anything, just start.”

The engine, apparently, won’t be seduced.

Eddie digs through the pocket of his low-slung jeans, finds a dime somewhere in the pile of gum wrappers and old receipts, and runs to stick the coin into the nearest payphone booth.

The garage answers on the last ring, and Eddie doesn’t even have to identify himself. They’re almost as familiar with his junker van as he is himself. They’ve wrung more money out of him for repairs than the damned thing is worth, and Eddie knows it. He knows the vehicle is on its deathbed–repeatedly resuscitated at this point–and that he should just replace it. But he can’t. Beyond fear of hurting its feelings, he’s become attached to it. He’s made memories in that stupid van. To him, replacing his ride would be like wading a huge portion of his life up and throwing it in the trash. He just won’t do it.

The garage is merciful enough to give him a ride there along with towing his poor, lifeless van. He’s not eager to spend a day in the waiting room sipping lukewarm black coffee, but he needs to be there for her. His lady is dying–waiting for news from her doctors is the least he can do.

He forgets all about his lady when you walk through the door.

You’re the Porche 944 of women. He’s never seen anything or anyone quite as breathtaking as you–with the small grease smudge on your cheek, your hair pulled back so sloppily that half of it is already fallen down, and your denim overalls unclipped on one side to show off the faded Iron Maiden t-shirt you wear underneath. You’re wiping your hands on a grease rag as you approach him and Eddie just stands in dumbfounded silence. Who are you and where have you been his entire life?

“Munson,” you greet with a slight smile.

He almost chokes. You know his name? He knows he’s never seen you before in his life–you’re the kind of girl he could never forget. Especially with how much time he’s had to spend here.

“Having trouble getting her to start?” you continue without missing a beat. Eddie doesn’t miss the way you refer to his van, and it makes him impossibly more hooked. “Seems to be a bad ignition coil. Easy enough to fix, except your crankshaft is rusted to shit and I’m honestly surprised the whole engine hasn’t fallen apart when you hit a bump or something. Seriously, it’s dangerous to drive at this point.”

Eddie hears you, but he doesn’t comprehend a single word you’re saying. He’s hyper-fixated on the way your lips form around your words, on how you’re speaking mechanics and you actually understand what you’re saying. He’s never met anyone like you.

“But you can fix her, right?”

You smile, and he feels his heart skip a beat. “Honestly? My professional advice is to just sell it for scrap and buy a new car.”

It’s like a smack to the face. He has to blink the shock out of his eyes while you stand there so simply, like you didn’t just tell him to kill his darling.

”What’s your unprofessional advice?”

You bite your lip, busy your hands with a grease cloth. “I could fix it. But it’ll take some time, and it’ll be expensive as hell. It would honestly be cheaper to buy new.”

”I’ll pay for the fix,” he says firmly before he can consider what he’s really agreeing to. “I can’t just replace her.”

Your smile is softer when you look back up at him. “I really admire that.”

Those words shouldn’t have as much of an effect on him as they do.

”I can do the job, but not here. There’s no way my boss would let me take up a lift for as long as I need to actually do a good job, and I don’t believe in doing mediocre work. But I’ve got enough equipment at my place if you trust me?”

You’re not only saving his lady, you’re promising not to screw him like so many people have before. He’s thinking about proposing, but he keeps his cool long enough to say, “yeah. Yeah, I trust you.”

”How much do you know about cars?”

He notices a strand of hair that’s fallen down into your face, and it takes all his restraint to keep himself from pushing it behind your ear for you.

”I know enough,” he says with a modest shrug.

Your eyes shine with something that he can’t identify as you gaze up at him. “Well, if you wanna help me, I’ll only charge you for parts.”

Eddie doesn’t even need to consider. A chance to spend more time with you, and a discount on repairs? “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great.”

The first night he comes over, it’s the sticky hot of a midsummer Indiana evening. He’s in low-slung faded jeans and a baggy white tank top that shows more of his chest than should be legal. There’s so much lightly tanned skin on display that you can’t decide where to focus—much less consider the engine you’re supposed to be working on. You can’t help asking about each little spot of ink you see on his skin, curious to learn even the smallest nuisances of his personality.

He’s the most interesting person you’ve met in this podunk town since your move to Hawkins from Indianapolis. He’s goofy and aloof, charming yet awkward. He’s so gentle and sweet you can practically smell the saccharine of his words as he speaks. He’s an animated speaker—so passionate about everything he does that he puts his whole body into it. There’s a refreshing energy to him that recharges your social battery as he goes, rather than draining it like everyone else does.

By the second night of working on Eddie’s van with him, you’re close enough to call him a friend. You know what seems like every small detail about him—his favorite color, the story behind the small scar on his left knee.

By the third night, you’re fighting every instinct in your brain to keep from throwing him inside said van and having your way with him.

Especially when you deliver to him a cold glass of iced tea and he drinks it in the sluttiest possible way he can—big gulps that send the condensation on the outside of the glass spilling down his chin to leave little paths of wetness down his neck and chest. It’s like full-on torture.

On the fourth night, you’ve had the engine block completely disassembled and ready for the new crankshaft for a couple days. It’s hard for Eddie to see his baby gutted and torn apart this way, but he knows you’ve got the most capable hands of any mechanic he’s ever known. There’s a delicacy and attention to detail in your craft that he’s never seen before, and he’s enraptured with watching you work. He’s even more enraptured by the sticky glistening of your skin in the red-orange light of sunset every night.

There’s really no reason for him to keep meeting you every single evening—all you’re doing at this point is busywork cleaning various parts because the real work can’t be done until the new parts arrive. Both of you know it, too—but neither of you will admit it. You’ve both come to look forward to these few hours together, comfortable even though you’re both sweaty, sticky, and greasy. Suspending them at this point would be a crime.

There’s just the faintest peek of reddish light left over the horizon when the conversation lulls, but Eddie’s not ready to go quite yet. “You hear Megadeth’s touring in Indy this fall?”

”No shit?”

”No shit. Tickets are probably going fast.”

”We should get some,” you say with a cautious glance over at him. This is it—this is as grand of an invitation as you can work up the courage to make. If he can’t take the bait here, you’ll be forever casting lingering glances and praying he’ll make a more substantial move than just eyeing you up and down like you’re the finest, purest water in a parched desert.

Eddie’s heart rate skyrockets even as he’s willing himself not to read too far into your words. ”Yeah? You’d… wanna go with me?”

”Might be nice. To hang out and do something other than pretend to work on your car.”

”All you had to do was ask, sweetheart,” he says with a look that’s far too smug for his own good on his face.

Even though it’s a little ridiculous, his cockiness flusters you. ”Wasn’t sure you’d want to.”

”How could I not? I’ve got the girl of my dreams five feet away from me, I’d be crazy to not want to spend every second I can get with her.”

”Oh, is there someone else here?” You try to giggle and make it sound like a lighthearted joke, but it comes out far more flustered than you mean for it to.

”No. Just you.” It’s only three words, yet you’ve never heard anything more fraught with tension in your life. It’s in his dark eyes, in the set of his jaw, in the way his hands clench into fists at his side to keep from reaching for you.

All your eyes can manage to do is trace up the prominent veins in his forearms from his white-knuckled fists. If you meet his eyes, you know your resolve will disappear faster than a delicate snowflake on warm skin.

But he takes a step closer to you, and it’s too late before you can even consider stopping yourself.

His dark eyes are swirling with lust. There’s no mistaking it, no other label for it. It looks animalistic, almost dangerous. He looks like he wants to devour you whole, and you want nothing more than to find out if he will.

”You, umm… need a refill?” You gesture with your eyes to the now empty glass in his hand, then nod toward the house. It’s all the invitation he needs.

The second the door clicks shut behind you, Eddie’s hands are on you. They start on your waist, effectively pinning you against the closed door and using you as an anchor to press himself as close to you as he can.

It’s eager and rushed, even a little sloppy. He kisses wet, he kisses deep. It’s like he’s trying to suck the air straight from your lungs, and you let him. Nothing has ever felt so good before.

“Christ,” he mumbles as his hot lips work their way down your neck. “Been wanting to do this for days.”

There’s a slight tremble in your hands as your fingers work their way into his curls, already nearly overwhelmed with the sensation of his mouth on your overheated skin. “Why didn’t you?”

”Didn’t wanna scare you off,” he confesses. It’s so endearing it pulls a moan from your lips.

“There’s not a lot you could do to scare me off, Eddie.” You mean it; you try to prove it by tugging him closer and slotting him between your legs. You can feel his pent up desire, hard and thick, as it presses against your core through his jeans. The feeling alone makes you ache with desire. It’s like a wave sweeps through you, cascading from head to toe and making everything in its wake prickle with unbearable want. You are molten flame, and he is the only thing that can douse your heat.

No one’s ever had such an astronomical effect on you from doing so little.

Eddie isn’t faring much better. He walks in a fog, blinded by clouding desire—especially so when your leg hitches up and around his hip to tug him harder against you. It’s like his cruise control is set, speed regulating with every incline or downward tilt—adjusting every little movement and touch to draw more breathless moans and whimpers from your parted lips.

A slight tug to his hair snaps him back into his own body, drawing a sudden clarity on the situation. He’s no longer an outsider looking in, as if an astral projection watching and criticizing his every move. Eddie is fully present and hyper-focused on one thing: making sure no other person can ever properly satisfy you again.

”You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs over and over into your skin as he traces kisses over your exposed neck and shoulders. His fingers hook into the strap of your tank top and slide it out of place, making way for a series of open-mouthed kisses as he ensures that not an inch of your skin is neglected.

You keen at his praise and reward him with a gentle tug to his messy curls. “So are you.”

He prickles with affection at your compliment, his cheeks warming in a way that feels completely foreign to him. No one’s ever called him beautiful before—he’s really never thought it could even be applicable to him—but he feels like he could get used to it.

He asks so nicely to take your top off and you give him permission without hesitation. You can see the flash of want in his eyes as he takes in your mostly naked torso, gaze skirting around the boundary of your bra as if he’s too shy to ask again for permission to remove a garment.

You decide to put on a little show as you give him what he wants; you unhook your bra and slide the straps down your arms so achingly slowly he thinks he might combust. And then finally, gloriously, you let the fabric fall to the floor and Eddie gets his first look at your bare chest.

He gapes, open-mouthed, for longer than is frankly comfortable—to the point you’re almost about to cover yourself up again.

And then he says, “Permission to do something highly inappropriate and maybe even a little degrading?”

”Uhh… sure?”

In a flash he’s buried face first in your sternum, hands coming to cup your breasts and dramatically smother himself in your cleavage. He lets out a pleasured groan as you giggle, deft fingers lightly tugging and pinching the sensitive peaks of your nipples. He prickles with pride at the breathy gasp you emit when his mouth starts working—he turns his head to suck one hard mound between his lips and keeps up the pressure with his fingers on the other.

”Sh-shit…” you sigh and slump into his attention, arms hanging like limp ribbons by your sides. “Eddie…”

”Love the way you say my name,” he practically purrs. “So fucking pretty.”

He switches sides now, firmly dragging the flat of his tongue over your nipple before sealing his lips around it and sucking. The pure pressure of it makes you cry out, fingers tugging harshly at his curls.

”Jesus, that feels amazing,” you whine. It’s so good, but it’s not nearly enough at the same time. And it’s like he can sense it—like he’s got some kind of a psychic connection with your body. He adapts immediately to what you need, dropping to his knees to unbutton your jean shorts and deftly slip them down and off your legs. He smooths his palms against your bare thighs and lets you feel the cold kiss of his metal rings against the burning flesh there, all the while looking up at you with dark eyes that you can’t quite identify. There’s lust, sure, but something else in those chocolate orbs. Something akin to adoration—like he’s on his knees preparing to worship you.

”Can I?” Those long, thick fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear and you’re nodding before he’s even finished asking.

You wish you could put the sound he lets out once he finally has you bare on vinyl to repeat over and over again. It’s somewhere between a growl and a whimper, completely heady with desire and want; need, even. The fact that he needs you like this is so overwhelming and flattering that you can barely process it. You don’t have time to, because in a moment his lips are wrapping themselves around your clit and sucking. He goes straight past gentle and into pure pressure just like he did with your nipples; as above, so below. And it’s bliss—thigh-quaking, breath-hitching, earth-shattering bliss.

All you can manage to do is scrabble for purchase against the wall his hands have you pinned to. You have to sound absolutely pathetic, but you can’t be bothered to care because you’re precariously close to coming and it’s only been a matter of minutes.

He moans, like he’s tasting the finest, most expensive and decadent cuisine he’s ever had. The sound vibrates against your pussy and travels up your spine all the way to your brain—it nests there and makes it’s home, drives you into a fuzzy state of ecstasy. And all the while that luxurious tongue is hard at work, alternating between lapping thirstily at your entrance and fluttering against your clit in a way that causes every muscle in your abdomen to contract.

Nothing should be able to feel this good—it’s so desperately close to overwhelming. Simultaneously, you would rather die than lose this feeling is it crescendos to a fever pitch.

”Let go,” he murmurs against you, and you know he’s not talking about your grip on his hair. “It’s okay. I gotcha, let go f’me.”

You’ve never fancied yourself to be the obedient type per se, but apparently your body is feeling particularly traitorous today. It takes all of three more seconds before you’re doing exactly what he said—legs trembling with the burden of your weight as you crash and burn on his tongue. You whine and beg and plead, all of it meaningless babble as he works you over and through your pleasure with that wonderful, amazing, perfect mouth of his.

You don’t even process you’re collapsing, but thankfully Eddie does and catches you with ease. There’s a cocky chuckle in his throat as he lays you down on the floor, and you would smack him for it if he hadn’t earned it. Instead, you grab him by the collar of his shirt a little rougher than mean to and drag him to your mouth, relishing in the high-pitched whine he admits at your light manhandling.

You moan at the taste of yourself on his lips, and Eddie can’t help grinding himself hard against your thigh in an attempt to relieve the pressure of his untouched arousal. This kiss is nasty—wet, gnashing, desperate. There’s no control to it on either end.

”That good, huh?” He mutters into your mouth. His voice is barely more than a whisper—you can’t expect much more when you’re kissing him the way you are, grinding your thigh against his aching cock all the while. And even still, despite his obvious desperation, he manages to be cocky about how hard he made you come.

If you weren’t head over heels for this man before, you certainly are now.

You start tugging at his belt and he chuckles, only growing more sure of himself by the second.

”Wait, baby, lemme take you to bed,” he huffs over the feeling of your hand finally sliding into his jeans where he needs you most.

It makes you gasp when you finally have him in the palm of your hand. As big as he felt through his jeans, nothing could’ve prepared you for this. He’s heavy, achingly thick, and you can feel the way he positively throbs in your grip.

And just as you’re about to agree and show him to your bedroom, you shake your head firmly; because as uncomfortable as this floor is going to feel and as much as your back is going to hate you for it later, you need him now. There’s no time for relocating; if he doesn’t give it to you right now, here in the middle of your living room floor, you think you might perish.

”Right here?” He hums as if he’s not affected at all while he slots himself between your legs. “On the floor? Can’t even wait thirty seconds to let me have you the right way? Dirty girl.”

It’s such a shift in dynamic; not an unwelcome one at all, certainly. But he’s been so shy and timid up until this point—always following your lead, blushing when his hand brushes against yours. You wonder if he’s like this with everyone—if he feels some pressure to perform an act or role, to hide his true personality.

The thought makes your chest ache a little bit, but you don’t have time to dwell on it because he’s breaking you in half. He’s so slow about it, too; barely pressing his tip into you, giving you time to adjust to every millimeter he gives you. Even still it punches the breath out of your lungs and makes your eyelids flutter at the intrusion.

”Shit.” It’s not spoken so much as whined, and suddenly you’re starkly aware of just how much you’re affecting him. You bite your lip to steady yourself so you can look up at him, and the sight alone is almost enough to unravel you. Unruly curls spill down over his shoulder and dangle in the air over you. His mouth hangs open—fast, shallow breaths make his bottom lip quiver. His pupils are so blown with desire you can barely see the warm chocolatey color of his irises.

You’re suddenly aware that in your desperation, you forgot a very important step. He’s still fully clothed—your legs rub against his t-shirt as his hands hook under your knees to spread you wider for him. You almost feel bad about it; in your haze of arousal his attention to your body has brought on, you’ve forgotten to be attentive to his. It pulls a whine from your lips as your hands unconsciously come to tug at the fabric.

He chuckles but acquiesces—not before you see a flicker of hesitation pass over his face.

It takes a moment to process what you’re looking at as he tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side… and then your jaw drops. ”Shit, Eddie!”

He’s quick to quiet your exclamation with a heated kiss, unintentionally shoving himself that little bit deeper into your cunt. It distracts you, but only for a moment. Then you’re pushing yourself up onto your elbows, trying to wrap your mind around the myriad of deep, whitish-pink scars that litter his torso.

“Eddie, what—“

“Car accident,” he lies before he can think better of it. It’s a story he’s told so many times that he’s almost starting to believe it himself. “Couple years back.”

“Jesus,” you whisper as your fingers trace over the poorly healed lines.

“I know. They’re not pretty.”

That one sentence tells you everything you need to know. “It’s not that,” he assure him. “Just… a miracle you survived something that bad.”

“Yeah,” he hums. “I got lucky.”

He’s deflating a little bit, and the last thing you want him to do is lose that confidence he’s been exuding. You wrap your arms around your neck and pulls him flush against you, feeling every warm inch of his torso against yours as your tongue tangles with his.

“You’re beautiful,” you tell him again. And you mean it.

He draws a gasp from your lips when he presses even closer, every inch of his body covering yours and his length shoved all the way into your needy cunt. It’s almost too much for him—the combination of your tight, wet heat around him; the adoration in your eyes as you look up at him like he’s some kind of god; your hands pulling him closer like you might evaporate if you can’t feel every inch of his body at all times. It’s a heady feeling he’s never experienced before, being wanted this badly. It nearly unravels him—especially when you start bucking your hips up to him in search of the friction you so desperately need.

He sees your need, and it pulls him back into his dutiful role. “I’ve got you, baby.”

He starts with deep, slow thrusts that nearly make you drool—you feel the drag of every single inch against your walls, every vein and ridge and contour. It’s like you’re memorizing the shape of him from the inside out.

One ringed hand slides down your hip and along the length of your thigh to hook beneath your knee, hitching your leg up as high as he comfortably can to spread you wide open for the taking.

You get barely a moment's notice as he draws himself almost all the way out. And then he slams himself back into place—deep, hard, unrelenting. He revels in the sound it draws from you, something between a cry and a plea for more; he silently vows to himself that those little pleasures sounds are going to be all you’re capable of making by the time he’s done with you.

It’s borderline violent, the way he fucks you. His thrusts are relentless and expert in a way you didn’t expect him to be. His lips hardly leave your skin, muffling his moans into hickies and bruises on your neck and chest. His hands grip hard to your body, marks blossoming beneath his fingertips.

You’ve never fallen apart so easily.

“That’s it,” he purrs into your ear as he feels your walls fluttering around him. “Don’t hold back, lemme have it. Please, baby.”

And really, it would be rude to deny him after he’s asked so nicely.

Your orgasm comes like shattered glass. The sound is the first thing you process—your moans drowning out his steady grunts. And then it’s sharp. It drives its shards into your and makes you flinch away from the sensation, so pleasurable it’s almost painful.

You’ve never come just from being fucked before. Sweet, wonderful Eddie carries on working towards his own release like he doesn’t deserve a goddamned award.

“Can I…”

But you’re already nodding, wrapping your legs around his waist and coaxing him deeper—urging him to make a home in the deepest part of you.

He’s not a man who needs to be told twice. He rocks his hips as deep as he can and then presses even closer, the head of him bruising your cervix as he falls apart. And maybe it shouldn’t feel as good as it does, the sensation of him painting your walls with rope after rope or warm, sticky release; but you’re not in the mind to psychoanalyze yourself right now. Instead you do your best to help him through it, lightly ghosting the tips of your fingers in soothing patterns on his back as he pants and shudders.

“Holy…”

“Yeah,” you giggle.

It takes him a few minutes to summon the courage he needs to pull his softening length from your warmth, and he bites down on his lip nearly hard enough to draw blood when he sees the absolute mess that slides down the curve of your ass.

”Jesus H. Christ,” he murmurs. His fingers come to swipe up some of the combined cum before he can stop himself, pushing it back into where he’d spilled it to begin with and relishing in the moan you afford him at the feeling of his thick fingers pressing into your over-sensitive entrance.

He’s so thoroughly enraptured with the sight before him. Your cunt squeezing so tightly around his fingers, cum dripping, desperate to reject due to the overstimulation. And yet you take it without flinching, chest heaving, head falling back against the hardwood floor.

He swipes his thumb over your clit so lightly and yet it still makes you squeeze like a vice around him, and so he does it again. He curls his fingers in search of that spot that made you fall apart so prettily on his cock, and once he finds it he doesn’t relent. That, combined with the light pressure on your clit, is more than enough.

Your thighs tremble, caught indecisively between spreading further open for him and clamping shut on his cum-slicked hand. He watches in awe as your lips part in a silent scream, ass arching up off the floor; and then, as you come down, you have to push him away because it’s finally too much.

”Fuck,” you whimper—he coos so reassuringly as he leans down to gently kiss your lips, errant curls brushing and tickling against your cheeks.

”I know, baby,” he whispers. “God, you’re incredible. Did so good f’me.”

You have to stay still for a moment—let his sweet, gentle kisses bring you back down from the clouds. And then you’re aware of the ache in your back and the absolute puddle forming under your ass, and you push yourself up with a weak groan.

”M’sorry,” he winces in sympathy. “Bed next time, I promise.”

And really, the promise of there being a next time shouldn’t make your heart skip a beat the way it does.

You’re worried things’ll be awkward now, but that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Working with him now is so much more effortless. The tension isn’t as palpable—it’s a fluid thing that you move through confidently now that your feelings and his are known. He isn’t afraid to watch you anymore, awe and adoration in his eyes as you show him how to reassemble the engine block. He observes your skilled fingers at work, and he’s not afraid to tell you how fucking sexy it is to him. He’s not afraid to rest a hand on the small of your back as he stands beside you, even occasionally getting brave enough to let it slip down and cup your ass. He’s not afraid to be his goofy, adorable, manic self—it’s the best metamorphosis you’ve ever seen.

You finish working on his van finally, and he almost tears up at how well she runs now—although he definitely doesn’t let you see that.

And as worried as you were that finishing this job would feel like the end of whatever this is with Eddie, it doesn’t. You feel secure, somehow, that he’ll keep coming back—for more than just parts and labor.

THE END

➔ A/N: thank you as always to @shakespeareanwannabe for putting up with my incessant questions and beta requests 🥹 ily lots

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson one shot #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #stranger things one shot #cece writes

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bitchiswild · 1 year ago

Text

Ride

GP Yoo Jimin x F! Reader

Warnings: smut, creampie, racing , and probs other things 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 6.8k 😟

A/n: A LOT OF PLOT AND A LITTLE SMUT 😭

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

The night unveiled the mesmerizing beauty of the city as Karina and I zoomed through its streets. The motorcycle's roar echoed, seemingly announcing our presence to the entire city. Yet, in our youthful spirit, we disregarded it. Karina had injected adventure and excitement into my life, making every moment extraordinary. She's what makes my days and nights awesome, always bringing joy. I gotta thank Aeri for introducing me to Karina, even if we didn't hit it off right away.

•·················•·················•

“Wanna come along?” That’s all she said. Life always seems to dangle something new in front of me. Aeri pitched this idea, and I had no clue what was in store. Mysterious. But I trusted her completely; she’d been hustling and making some cash. It was our little secret. A game where the risk just added spice to the thrill. Kind of sketchy but exhilarating, you get me?

“You sure this is the right way?” I asked cautiously. We were heading down these shady, dimly lit stairs where the lights flickered oh-so-slowly."

"Yeah, I know the way. Been here a few times, no sweat!" she assured me, continuing down the steps.

As we got closer to the door, the music’s volume surged. Stepping inside, the booming bass hit us hard. The place was a riot of colorful lights, but there was this pervasive mix of gasoline and weed smell that wasn't too pleasant.

"Is this your usual weekend scene?" I quizzed Aeri.

"No doubt, I do. I'm here to help Karina gear up for her races," she said.

"Are you finally gonna introduce me to this Karina you're always on about?" I inquired.

"Absolutely! I'll take you to her now. Or would you prefer to check out the place first?" she asked.

"Let's take a look around first," I replied.

Aeri gave me the grand tour of this spot. I soaked it all in, kinda interested in this whole new vibe where everything's a bit of a gamble. It's all about the danger and excitement, you know? I find it pretty intriguing. This place, right before the race starts, it's got a vibe. But I did however, noticed how everyone's eyes are on us.

"Hey, what's with all the staring? Starting to weird me out a bit," I mentioned to Aeri, feeling a tad uncomfortable.

"They all know I'm friends with Karina. She's, well, let's just say she's a big deal around here. They call her the 'Queen' of racing," Aeri explained, and it all clicked for me.

"Can we bail, though? Feeling a bit too conspicuous," I suggested.

"Sure thing! Let's get you introduced to Karina; you two will hit it off, I'm sure!" Aeri exclaimed, ready to make the intro.

Aeri dragged me to this garage, all bright and half-open. She went and knocked on it like a maniac. ‘Karina! I'm here! Did you miss me?!’ Aeri shouted at the top of her lungs.

“Aeri! Keep it down! Get in here already,” the girl I figured was Karina snapped.

Aeri nudged me to step in first. I crouched a bit and walked into the garage. The garage was alive with various colored lights, yet one glaring light outshone the rest. Posters and tools adorned the walls, while a car occupied one side and a motorcycle sat on the other. The girl I presumed to be Karina was busy fixing something on the bike.

“Karina! Meet my bestie Y/n! Y/n, meet Karina!” Aeri introduced us, gesturing between us."

"Hey, Karina, nice to meet you. Aeri's told me loads about you, and don't worry, I won't spill anything that might get you thrown in jail," I said, immediately regretting my choice of words.

"Hi," was all she replied before returning to her work on the bike, leaving me feeling a bit like a fool.

Naturally, I felt offended. I wanted to confront her, but I held back. I hardly knew her and picking a fight with Aeri's friend wasn't the right move. It'd make me a lousy friend.

"Don't stress, Y/n. Karina's just... like that. She's very... monotone, but she's cool. Give her some time to warm up to you. Honestly, I didn't spill that I spilled everything about her illegal racing," Aeri explained with an awkward grin on her face.

“ It's fine it didn't bother me," I lied, though it bothered me more than I let on.

"So, Karina, when's your next race?" Aeri asked.

"In about 30 minutes. You heading out or sticking around here in the garage?" Karina inquired.

"Since this is Y/n's first illegal race, I'll probably stick around, cheering you on alongside her," Aeri nudged me while saying that.

"Alright, let's head out. I'm all set," she said, wrapping up the final touches on her bike.

We all made our way out of the garage, heading toward the main event. Karina revved her bike, riding off towards the street where the race would take place. The way people glanced at us left me feeling intimidated. Despite my smile, fear crept in. This was uncharted territory for me.

"Hey, Karina! What's up! Ready to race?! There's a hefty pot riding on you, lots of folks betting," a guy shouted as he approached us.

"Absolutely, BamBam. I'm always geared up to win some cash," Karina replied with a grin.

I never thought this girl smiled, but here she was, flashing a smile in front of me. It was kinda cute.

"Awesome! Just remember to stay safe, can't afford to lose our top racer, aka our 'Queen'," The guy I now know as BamBam added.

"Who's that guy? Her boyfriend?" I asked Aeri in a hushed tone.

Aeri stifled a laugh. "Nah, not her boyfriend. That's her childhood friend. They grew up together, got into street racing, and he's sort of her manager. He always bets on her because he knows she'll win. Also, Karina's gay and has a dick," Aeri explained frankly.

The last sentence caught me off guard and I took a double take at Aeri.

“She has a dick??,” I blurted out in surprise.

"Yeah, she was born with it. Why, wanna hop on it?" Aeri quipped, giving me a smirk.

I was flabbergasted! “What? No way!" I exclaimed.

"Sure, just saying, you're not the only one. Lots of other girls here do too," she casually replied.

"Alright, alright, let's stop talking about her dick," I said, eager to change the subject.

"Stop talking about my what?" Karina chimed in, joining our conversation.

I was horrified. If she overheard our discussion, I'd be mortified.

"Your bike," Aeri quickly interjected, coming to my rescue. "Y/n here was just saying how much she liked it but wanted to stop gushing over your bike."

"Thanks," Karina replied, giving me a stare that made me cough in awkwardness. Why did I suddenly feel so awkward? I needed a shot, maybe ten.

"Anyway, I came to tell you guys that the race is starting soon, so get to your spots. And remember, don't accept drinks from strangers. Have the bartender made you the drink, alright?" Karina instructed us.

Can we grab a drink, Aeri? I seriously need one after that almost-embarrassment," I admitted, fanning myself to emphasize the point.

"Sure thing," Aeri replied, leading me towards the bar.

Once we had our drinks, we headed towards the restricted area where only people acquainted with Karina were allowed. There was a large TV screen displaying Karina, geared up with her helmet on, ready for the race. Her eyes reflected unwavering determination, making me equally certain she'd emerge victorious.

The audio from the scene was clear, capturing a guy beside Karina yelling that she was going to lose. Karina, unfazed, remained focused, displaying even greater determination. A girl emerged onto the street, holding a red flag. Raising her arm, she brought it down swiftly, marking the start of the race.

The race unfolded rapidly. Kai, the guy I just learned the name of, initially took the lead, but as they reached a sharp turn, Karina surged past him. Watching her on the screen, it was evident—she had a natural talent for this. Her movements on the bike were graceful, navigating every turn effortlessly. I finally understood why people bet on her. Yet, watching her gave me a mix of sensations, tingling feelings that I couldn't quite decipher—was it anxiety or something else?

As they approached the finish line, it was a dead heat. Anxiety crept up on me, evident in my shaking leg. I desperately hoped for Karina's victory. Beside me, Aeri seemed absolutely chilled, not a speck of doubt in her eyes. I couldn't help but wonder why she was so composed. "She knows something," I muttered to myself, suspecting that Aeri had an inside track on this.

Right after that thought, Aeri did the exact thing I suspected she knew about. With a simple press of a button, Karina's speed surged, propelling her faster than before, and she breezed across the finish line.

When Karina hit that button, everyone was stunned by the speed she picked up. But as soon as she crossed that finish line, the crowd erupted in cheers. Aeri and I jumped to our feet, cheering, hugging, and bouncing around in joy. Karina had not only won the race but also scored a substantial amount of prize money. BamBam, having won all the bets he placed, was also celebrating his success.

After breaking on her bike and removing her helmet, Karina was engulfed by a swarm of well-wishers. Aeri and I maneuvered through the crowd to reach her. Aeri led the way, offering her congratulations with a pat on the back, while I stood there beaming at her. Our eyes met, and she returned a small grin. For me, that was enough. Her eyes spoke volumes, brimming with excitement and joy.

As things settled, Karina gathered her winnings, and we trailed back to the garage together.

"That was one of your finest races in a while!" Aeri praised.

"Thank you. I really appreciate you guys being there, cheering me on," Karina replied, a grateful expression on her face.

"So, when's the next race?" Aeri inquired.

"In two weeks. I need to get some more parts for my bike, upgrade it, and also visit my mom to give her some money," Karina informed us.

"Speaking of your mom, how's she doing?" Aeri inquired.

"She's still working, despite me telling her to retire. That woman is just too stubborn," Karina replied, shaking her head.

"Just like you," Aeri teased with a smirk.

"Hey! I have my reasons, alright?" Karina retorted with a slight glare.

Before Aeri could reply, her phone rang. 'I'll be right back,' she said before leaving Karina and me alone. 'And now there are two,' I murmured to myself.

"So, Karina, you did an awesome job out there! I was really impressed by how you clutch in the end. I was so anxious the whole time, rooting for you, and I just wanted you to win and I was so worried—" I started to ramble.

"Y/n!" Karina exclaimed, gripping my shoulders and staring at me. "Calm down, you're rambling," she urged, trying to rein in my chatter.

Her sudden touch caught me off guard, bringing an unexpected closeness that felt like we were almost within kissing distance. I shook my head, trying to dispel those thoughts. "Sorry... that happens when I feel awkward or anxious," I explained.

She withdrew her hands and kept staring at me. "It's fine, just take a moment. If you need to ease your anxiety, try dunking your head in ice-cold water. That might help," Karina suggested calmly.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time," I replied.

Karina returned to her bike, resuming work by taking parts off, fetching tools and components from her workbench, and moving back and forth between them. Lost in my thoughts, I scanned the garage, wondering where Aeri had vanished to.

"You know, you can sit, right?" Karina's voice startled me out of my reverie. I glanced at her, finding her staring at me and pointing to the chair nearby.

“Oh right, sorry,”I sheepishly grinned in response, taking the hint and finally sitting down. I couldn't help but keep glancing around the garage, occasionally stealing quick looks at Karina. The silence became unbearable, prompting me to break it.

"Do you need any help?" I offered, hoping to engage in conversation.

"Nope," she replied bluntly.

"Can I help you, though? I can't stand this silence, and I want to do something," I persisted.

"You can sit and be quiet," she repeated, smirking as she glanced up.

I remained silent, pursing my lips and continuing to observe her.

"Please, let me help!" I pleaded, growing desperate to do something.

"Fine, come here," she finally relented. I eagerly approached her, thrilled to lend a hand.

"I'm giving you a very big responsibility, okay? Now, hold the flashlight and don't move," Karina instructed, handing me the flashlight.

I felt disappointed; holding the flashlight was something my dad always made me do, and I often got yelled at for doing it wrong. Nevertheless, I was doing something, and for the next 20 minutes, I held onto it diligently. Finally, Aeri returned from her phone call.

"What the hell?! What took so long?" I exclaimed at her, still clutching the flashlight.

"Y/n, hold the flashlight correctly!" Karina interjected. "Oops, sorry," I apologized and adjusted my grip to hold it correctly.

"Sorry I took so long; it was an important call I can't go into details about right now, but I promise it's nothing bad," Aeri explained.

"Okay, I hope everything's alright," I replied.

"Everything's good. Are you ready to leave? Because I am," Aeri asked.

"Yeah, I'm ready," I confirmed, turning off the flashlight and handing it back to Karina.

"Alright, let's go. Bye, Karina! See you soon!" Aeri called out as she exited the garage.

"Bye, Karina, till then," I called out. As I began to duck my head under the garage door, I caught her saying goodbye.

"Bye, Y/n," I heard Karina's voice say as she continued tinkering with her bike.

"Alright, let's head back to our dorm. Don't worry, you'll be back; this is just the beginning," Aeri reassured me as we made our way back toward the stairs we came from.

•·················•·················•

It's the following day, and a strong urge pulls me to return to the garage. I'm not sure why I feel this way, but the desire is there. After getting ready, I head towards Aeri’s room to check if she's around, but her neatly made bed indicates she's probably left for class.

Deciding to go on my own, I recall the location and remember that Aeri had sent me the address. Gathering my belongings, I leave the room and start walking towards the destination.

I'm in the stairwell, making my way down toward the familiar door Aeri had led me through. As I approach, I notice the music still blaring, but today, the neon blue lights replace yesterday's vibrant colors. I glance around before heading toward Karina’s garage.

Suddenly, a random guy yells, "Hey, Beautiful! Come over here and sit on my lap!" I choose to ignore him and keep walking.

"Come on, I know you heard me! Come here!" he yells out again, this time patting his lap in an insistent and uncomfortable manner.

"No thanks, I'm good," I firmly replied, trying to maintain my course toward Karina’s garage.

But, as expected, the guy persists and ends up blocking my way. I look up at him, my expression blank, while he grins down at me. "Can I help you?" I retort, my arms crossed and an attitude evident in my tone.

"Yea, I asked you to do something but you didn't," the musty guy states.

"Yea, I know," I respond bluntly.

"You know... I don't take no for an answer," he declares, his tone suggesting an intent to push the issue.

"And? I do not care," I reiterated, my arms remaining crossed.

He made a move to reach for my arm, but thankfully, a familiar voice intervened. It was Karina. I felt a surge of relief; I was beginning to get anxious at the thought of him grabbing me.

"Nate, what are you doing?" Karina's voice addressed him directly.

"Karina! Hey! I was just trying to get this beautiful lady to sit on my lap and do other things if you know what I mean," Nate replied with a suggestive wink, trying to play it off.

Karina's expression turned serious. "Actually, she’s with me, and she is off-limits. I do not want you anywhere near her," Karina asserted firmly, setting a clear boundary.

"How come? I'm just having some fun," Nate retorted with a smirk, clearly not taking Karina's instructions seriously.

"I don't care. She’s off-limits. Now leave!" Karina's tone grew firmer, her frustration evident.

"Yea, sure, see you around, beautiful," Nate said, smirking as he began to walk away.

Karina gripped my hand firmly, concern evident in her eyes. "Are you okay? What are you doing here by yourself? Do you realize that if I wasn’t here, things could've gone bad? You can’t be here without me or Aeri, got it?" She guided me towards her garage, still holding my hand.

"I know. I'm sorry. I promise not to come here without you or Aeri," I assured her.

"You didn't answer my question. Why are you here?" She pressed for an explanation.

"I just wanted to continue helping you with your bike. Also, I had no class today, so I decided to come here," I answered honestly.

"You came all this way just to help me with my bike?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah, why not?" I replied casually.

Karina chuckled in disbelief. "Okay, fine, you can help. Let's get started," she agreed.

And so, that's what we did. I began coming by every other day or whenever I had free time to assist her in preparing her bike for the upcoming race. Over time, we started enjoying each other's company, engaging in light conversation. However, we hadn't broached certain topics—things I wanted to know, like why she started street racing. I chose to keep those questions to myself, saving them for another day.

One such day, I had no class and was free. I had Karina’s number now, so I texted her beforehand that I was heading to the garage. She mentioned she'd meet me at the door, and true to her word, that's where she was. We walked together towards the garage, and she let me enter first before following. "So, what are we working on today?" I inquired.

"Nothing, because we are finished!" she announced with a grin, a familiar expression that I had come to adore over the past two weeks. That grin, when directed at me, felt unlike any other.

"Really? You finished it?" I asked in amazement.

"No, we finished it," she corrected, her grin turning into a warm smile.

I mirrored her smile. "Does that mean we get to go on a test drive?" I was thrilled at the prospect of riding the bike after investing so much effort into it.

"Of course! Here, let me get you a helmet," she offered, fetching one for me. She returned, placing the helmet on me. The visor was closed, but a simple click opened it, and suddenly, Karina was gazing into my eyes.

"There you are, hi!" she greeted with a grin.

"Hi back," I replied, returning her greeting. She continued to gaze at me for a moment before turning to retrieve her own helmet, securing it in place. Walking over to her bike, she mounted it first, signaling for me to climb on behind her.

Once I was on, I instinctively held onto the sides of the bike, but Karina guided my arms around her stomach, encouraging me to wrap them securely. I held on tightly, feeling the firmness of her toned stomach, grateful that she couldn't see my blushing face.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Of course," I replied, trying to mask any hint of nervousness in my voice.

She ignited the engine, and it roared thunderously, the sound reverberating throughout the garage. As she opened the garage door, the engine revved, and we surged out. The speed we gained made me hold onto Karina even tighter, a sudden fear gripping me.

In my helmet, I heard her voice. "You okay back there?" she inquired.

"Wait, how am I hearing you so clearly?" I asked, puzzled.

"There's Bluetooth connected to the helmets," she explained.

"Ah, that’s nice. And to answer your question, yes, I am okay, just a bit scared at the speed we're going," I confessed.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied without hesitation.

"Then everything will be okay," she assured me, continuing to ride out of the tunnels and onto the main road.

As we navigated through the city, Karina's voice came through the helmets. "I want to take you somewhere, will you let me?" she asked.

Her proposal made my heart melt; it was a simple yet profound request. "Yes, take me wherever you want to go," I responded.

"Okay, thank you," she replied, steering toward her chosen destination.

We ascended a hill with a breathtaking view of the city, but Karina kept driving until we reached our final stop. She parked the bike, removing the key, and got off first. Extending her hand, she helped me dismount as well. "What is this place?" I inquired, following her closer to the view.

"It's a place where my dad brought my mom to confess his feelings to her. It was his spot, and even before that, it belonged to my grandma. After my dad passed away, my mom brought me here because I couldn't get over his death. She shared all their stories with me, and we laughed and cried together," Karina explained, her voice carrying the weight of memories.

I hung onto her every word. Karina paused for a moment before continuing.

"She also told me to come here whenever I feel stressed out or just need to connect with my dad in a way. So that's what I did. I was here last night, seeking guidance. I asked him if I should go forth with something, and I got the answer I wanted," she said, smiling warmly at me as she spoke.

Karina's revelation left me speechless. I sensed there was more she wanted to express.

"There’s another thing Mom told me about this spot. She said if I wanted to confess my feelings to someone, I should come here. It’s a place special to me, where my dad and grandma did the same in the past," she explained, her gaze fixed on me.

My heart raced at her words. She took hold of my hands. "Y/n, over the last two weeks, my feelings for you have grown. It started when I saw Nate getting too close to you. I realized then that I’d do anything to keep you safe. I've cherished every moment we've spent fixing my bike. I’ve come to realize that I have feelings for you. Please, tell me you feel the same?”

I was taken aback by her confession, my mind racing as I processed her words and the depth of my own feelings.

I was taken aback. Karina's confession of her feelings caught me by surprise, but it filled me with joy to know that the emotions were mutual. With heartfelt honesty, I replied, “Karina... from the moment your smile caught my eye, I felt something special. The time we've shared, every moment, it's made my feelings grow stronger. I do feel the same way. I'm grateful you feel it too.”

As Karina's hand cupped my cheek, her touch was gentle yet filled with longing. Our gazes locked, conveying emotions words couldn't express. I leaned into her touch, feeling the warmth of her hand against my skin. In that silent exchange, the air thickened with anticipation. We moved closer, our bodies drawn together by an invisible force. When our lips finally met, a surge of electricity ran through me, setting my nerves on fire. My heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness, mirroring the intensity I sensed in Karina. Every heartbeat seemed synchronized, creating an unspoken harmony between us. I withdrew my hand from hers, instinctively wrapping both around her neck, drawing her closer and intensifying the kiss. Simultaneously, her hand moved to the side of my stomach, tracing gentle, reassuring circles. The passionate exchange stirred a whirlwind of emotions between us, each moment pulsating with raw feelings. As the kiss deepened, the need for air became undeniable, forcing us to reluctantly break apart, breathless and exhilarated.

We were both breathing heavily, savoring the lingering sensation of the kiss. I opened my eyes first; Karina's remained closed, a charming smile gracing her face. When her eyes finally met mine, we shared a moment of laughter, both in disbelief and excitement. Karina reached out, taking my hand. "Come on, let's go do something fun," she said, smiling warmly.

I grabbed her hand, and we sprinted back to her bike. She swiftly handed me the helmet, planting one more kiss on my lips before securing the helmet over my head. With her helmet on, she mounted the bike, extending her hand to help me get on. I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding on tightly as she revved the engine and guided us to our next stop.

This time, cruising through the city felt different—carefree, even. I felt lighter, more alive, and undeniably happy, all thanks to the girl in front of me. As we reached Imperial, a nightclub, Karina dismounted first and helped me off the bike. She handed the keys to the valet, grasped my hand, and led me confidently toward the entrance. We bypassed any need for IDs as Karina was familiar with the bouncer.

After arriving, we beelined to the bar for drinks. Shots flowed freely, and we lost ourselves in the music, dancing together all night. Carefree and spirited, we moved to the beats, laughing and enjoying the moment. Eventually, we somehow made it back home, and waking up there, I was grateful that we'd safely returned.

I woke up in a room that didn’t seem familiar, but seeing Karina next to me put me at ease. Glancing around, I noticed a picture of her and BamBam on the nightstand. It was Karina's room. I felt a moment of panic, worrying we'd gone too far last night, but a quick check under the blanket revealed I was fully dressed. I sighed in relief and stole a glance at Karina, peacefully asleep beside me. She stirred, and I found myself captivated by her face. She slowly opened her eyes, catching me in the act.

“What a lovely sight to wake up to,” she said, her morning voice soft and gentle.

I grinned and leaned in for a kiss. She reciprocated, but before it could linger, she broke away. “As much as I'd love to, let me brush my teeth first.”

“Karina, it's fine. Come here,” I insisted, trying to pull her back for another kiss. With a laugh, she evaded my grasp and dashed into the bathroom, teasingly repeating, “No, let me brush my teeth!”

I stayed seated on her bed, chuckling at her playful antics, before eventually rising and making my way to the bathroom. While we brushed our teeth, our playful nudges and giggles made it feel like we were back in high school.

Once we finished brushing our teeth, we moved to her kitchen and decided to make some food. Karina prepared some eggs and toast, a simple yet satisfying breakfast.

“Y/n,” Karina said, breaking the calm ambiance of the morning.

“Yeah?” I responded, looking up to meet her gaze.

Her eyes held a mix of adoration and nervousness. “Will you be my girlfriend?” she asked, her voice slightly wavering.

My heart fluttered in excitement. "I would love to be your girlfriend," I replied, rising from my seat to give her a passionate kiss. She returned it with equal fervor.

Breaking the kiss, she took a deep breath. "There's a race tonight. I want you and Aeri to be there, please," she requested.

"Absolutely, count on us!" I assured her.

"Great! You guys are like my good luck charms in a way, so I need you there," she said, gently rubbing my sides.

The tension was palpable as the night settled in. Karina had her eyes set on a significant prize this time. Winter, her competitor, was no ordinary racer, having secured victories at a level matching Karina's own accomplishments. When I inquired if Karina felt nervous about this race, she assured me of her composure, having previously met Winter, who seemed amiable.

As we arrived at the garage, the atmosphere crackled with a blend of excitement and anticipation. Aeri and I joined forces to help Karina ready her bike, meticulously tuning every detail for optimum performance. Meanwhile, Karina engaged in a serious conversation with BamBam, strategizing about bets and fine-tuning her approach for the upcoming race.

"Think Karina's got this one in the bag?" I asked Aeri, passing her a wrench.

"I'm not entirely certain this time. Winter's no joke. She's a fantastic racer, saw her work before, and it's impressive," Aeri replied, adjusting a tool.

“She’s really that good?” I inquired, surprised by Aeri’s statement about Winter.

“She’s just as good as Karina,” Aeri confirmed.

Karina returned after her conversation with BamBam, drawing me in for a quick peck to express gratitude for cleaning her bike. Before I could respond, Aeri interjected playfully, demanding her own acknowledgment for the help she'd provided. Karina indulged her with a forehead kiss, a smirk playing on her lips.

Aeri teased about being the matchmaker, observing Karina and me embracing each other. As the moment of the race arrived, BamBam's booming voice signaled Karina to prepare, redirecting everyone's attention to the impending competition.

“Alright guys, let's go race,” Karina announced, setting the momentum for the upcoming event. As we made our way to the race track, Winter appeared, engrossed in conversation with some acquaintances. Aeri departed momentarily to fetch drinks while I stayed by Karina's side.

Karina sought to park her bike beside Winter’s. “Are you okay waiting here for a bit?” she inquired.

“Yes, I'm good,” I replied as she moved to position her bike. In the meantime, Winter approached me. “Hey, what's your name?” she asked with a smile.

“I'm Y/n, and you’re Winter,” I responded.

“That’s me! So… why is a beautiful girl standing alone by herself?” Winter questioned, her expression playful.

“Oh, just waiting on a friend,” I answered casually, trying to keep things light amidst the anticipation of the race.

“How about this? You and I go somewhere together after the race is done?” Winter proposed, her tone playful.

“Umm-” I hesitated, feeling a rush of panic. Where was Karina when I needed her?

“Oh, come on, I don't bite… unless you want me to?” Winter flirted, her demeanor teasing.

"Karina!" Relief washed over me as she arrived, once again coming to my rescue.

"Karina! This is your girlfriend?" Winter's curiosity was evident in her gaze toward both of us.

"Yes, she is." Karina confirmed, wrapping her arms around me protectively.

Winter eyed Karina's protective gesture and then smirked. "Okay then, your girl is a fine dime. I want to make a bet. If I win, you break up with Y/n, and she comes with me. If I don't, we can act like this conversation never happened," Winter proposed, extending her hand for a handshake.

“Deal,” Karina said, her tone firm, as she shook Winter’s hand.

“Great doing business with you,” Winter said with a smirk, winking at me before strolling toward her bike.

My heart raced with disbelief and hurt. “Karina, seriously? You’re just going to let that happen?” I felt betrayed, hurt that she would entertain such an idea without discussing it with me. I began to turn away, but Karina caught hold of my hand before I could leave.

“Y/n listen to me,” Karina pleaded as she held onto my hand.

I stopped but didn’t turn around. “No way. I can't believe this. You’re willing to throw away our relationship just like that,” I exclaimed, snapping my fingers in frustration. “We haven't even been together for two days, and now you’re betting on me? If you lose, I’m as good as gone,” I said, my anger palpable, trying to control the quiver in my voice.

“I did it to protect you.” Her voice cracked with an unexpected vulnerability.

“Protect me?” I turned to face her, frustration and confusion mixing within me.

“Winter... She’s a ruthless racer, and she’s been known for her tricks off the track. I couldn’t risk anything happening to you. I had to agree, but believe me, I never meant it. You mean more to me than anything else, Y/n. Please, you have to trust me on this.”

Her words struck a chord, but I was still shaken. “How could you make a deal like that without even discussing it with me?”

Karina's expression softened, remorse clear in her eyes. “I know, and I’m sorry. I panicked. Please, I’ll figure out a way. I won’t let anything happen to us.”

I hesitated, the hurt mingling with understanding. “You promise?”

“Absolutely. Trust me, okay?” Karina pleaded, her eyes pleading for forgiveness.

I sighed, torn between emotions but wanting to believe her. “Fine.”

She pulled me into a tight hug. “Thank you, Y/n. I promise, I’ll fix this, I’ll win the race for you.”

“I don't want to discuss it further. Let’s just focus on the race. I’ll be there with Aeri cheering you on,” I said, my hurt evident as I gave Karina a peck on the lips before walking over to Aeri, who had our drinks.

“What happened between you and Karina?” she asked, noticing Karina's sad expression.

“She and Winter made a bet about our relationship,” I explained.

“What kind of bet?” she inquired, eyebrows furrowed.

“If Winter wins, Karina and I have to split so I end up with Winter,” I revealed.

“What? Why would she agree to that?” Aeri exclaimed.

“I have no idea, but she’s asking me to trust her,” I replied.

“Okay, then let's try to trust her.”

The race commenced as Aeri and I fixated on the screen, watching Winter and Karina revving their engines atop their bikes. A girl emerged, brandishing a red flag. As she dropped it, signaling the start, the engines roared to life, and the race began.

Initially, it was a tight competition, neck and neck, but Winter skillfully claimed the lead. Her bike navigated every twist and turn effortlessly, gaining ground with ease. Karina trailed closely behind, mirroring Winter's prowess as they maneuvered through the course.

As the race unfolded, it became evident that Winter's racing skills were formidable, just as Aeri and Karina had indicated. The tension mounted within me as I fervently rooted for Karina to win. My feelings for her grew more pronounced with every twist and turn. I didn't want to end up with Winter; it was Karina I truly cared about.

Karina surged ahead at one point, fueling a flicker of hope, but it was short-lived as Winter swiftly overtook her. They were now neck and neck, closing in on the finish line. Karina managed to match Winter's pace, riding side by side. Both racers shared a momentary gaze, a blend of determination and grit in their eyes, each vying for victory.

My heart raced with anxiety as they neared the finish line. Winter had a slight edge, but Karina's resolve was unmistakable. The atmosphere was electric as they crossed the finish line simultaneously, leaving us all in suspense, waiting for the official outcome.

"Did Winter just win?" I asked myself in disbelief, falling to my knees, hurt by the outcome.

"Wait, wait!" The announcer's voice boomed. "Let's have a replay!"

As we watched the replay, it was clear: Karina's wheel crossed the finish line first. "Karina won!" I shouted in jubilation, Aeri joining in.

The crowd erupted into cheers. Karina removed her helmet, smiling. Winter approached her, extending her hand. "Good race, Jimin," she said.

Karina shook her hand, replying, "Good race, Minjeong."

Overwhelmed with emotion, I ran towards Karina, enveloping her in a tight hug. "You won," I said, still in disbelief.

"I told you to trust me," she said softly.

"I'll always trust you," I replied, pulling her into a passionate kiss.

The kiss was interrupted by Aeri's arrival. "AYYY, Karina!! YOU WON!!" she screamed, rushing to hug her. But then, Aeri punched Karina's arm hard.

"Ouch! What was that for?!" Karina exclaimed.

"That was for accepting the bet," Aeri retorted.

Karina sighed. "At least I won, and it's over now."

"Yeah, it's in the past. Let's focus on the present and work towards the future," I chimed in.

Karina went to collect her winnings, and we all headed back to Imperial to celebrate her victory. Imperial was alive with music, and we lost ourselves in the beats, dancing and reveling in the energy of the night. Karina and I moved together on the dance floor, the heat of the room adding to the charged atmosphere. The way she looked at me sent shivers down my spine, her desire unmistakable.

As our bodies moved in sync, the electricity between us intensified. Karina leaned in close, her voice a seductive murmur in my ear. “You look amazing tonight,” she whispered, her hand tracing a tantalizing path across my skin.

Unable to resist any longer, I pulled Karina closer to me, breathlessly murmuring in her ear, “Let's get out of here.” I could see the immediate spark of desire in her eyes as she eagerly took my hand, leading me out of the club. Outside, she hailed a cab, and within 10 minutes, we arrived at her house.

Pressing against her door, our passion intensified. Karina momentarily paused our embrace to unlock the door, and as soon as it swung open, she pushed me inside before closing it firmly behind us. We resumed our fervent kissing as we made our way upstairs to her room.

Karina shoved me onto the bed and removed her bra and shirt. She returned to kissing me, making tracks with her lips as she kissed down my neck. She broke the kiss and gripped the bottom of my dress,asking for permission to take it off. And I let her. I reached back to unhook my bra when she removed my dress. Allowing it to descend before me. After everything was off, she teased my nipples and kissed every part of my body, leaving as many traces as she could.

With my panties still in the way, she began to kiss her way down my body, reaching closer to my heart.

"Please," I whimpered.

Karina pulled down my panties and planted a kiss on top of them. began removing her boxers and pants. "Anything for you baby.” She muttered.

She gently brushed her cock's head on my pussy. “Fuck baby you’re so wet. Who makes you this wet” Karina Moaned.

"You!" I groaned, "Please, Karina, do something.

She began to break my pussy apart with her cock as she pushed it through my hole. She groaned, "Fuck you're so tight," and began to thrust in me. I felt amazing the way Karina was touching all the right places inside me. "Harder," I moaned.

Karina pounding me harder. We both moaned loudly. I was getting close. “Fuck Karina I’m close” I gasp out.

She groaned, continuing to thrust, "Me too."

I groaned, "Fuck Karina, you feel so good," as tears streamed down my cheeks from the pleasure she was giving me.

"Baby, where do you want it? Karina groaned, "Where do you want my cum?"

I moaned out, "Please cum inside."

Karina pushed herself closer to me. She reached down to my clit and gave it a few rapid circular rubs, and that was it for me.

I cried, "Fuck Karina, I'm cumming."

“Cum for me baby” She husked.

I squeezed Karina’s cock while I came hard. Sending her over the edge, she shoot ropes of cum into my pussy painting my walls white. I groaned at the warmth. Karina stood steady inside me for a second before releasing her grip and pulling out. She takes a deep breath and settles down next me, drawing me very close to her chest.

“Sleep now, beautiful. I’ll see you in the morning,” Karina whispered, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.

•·················•·················•

“Hey, whatcha thinkin' about?” Karina asked, gazing at me with affection. We had just arrived at our spot. I hugged her tight. “Just thinking about when we first met, that's all,” I replied.

She leaned in for a peck. “Thanks to Aeri, I met the love of my life,” Karina said, smiling.

“Agreed,” I chuckled, drawing her into a kiss.

“I love you, Y/n,” she murmured against my lips.

“I love you too, Jimin.”

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

#jimin x reader #Karina x reader #Yoo Jimin #aespa x reader #GP Karina #aespa x fem reader #aespa #aespa smut #yoo Jimin x reader #bitchiswild #BIW. WRITES #Spotify

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theblue6ook · 5 months ago

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A Sick Day

It’s not a cold. It’s not. It’s just… allergies or something. Y/N definitely does not need to stay home. Bruce disagrees.

B (24) & Y/N (22)

A/N: recently got a puppy and he has taken all of my free time <3 Also, this fic is unedited and proud.

“Get your coats and turn on your radiators, Gotham. An ice front is coming in and it’s coming in hot. Or should I say cold? No, this isn’t the work of Mr.Freeze, he’s still in Arkham and we hope he stays there. This is the work of a winter storm. While the snow will be beautiful, it will also be dangerous.”

Y/N scoffed at her computer. The newscasters always made such a big deal about winter storms. Nothing can be worse than what they had to deal with when Mr.Freeze escaped a year ago. She was stuck in her apartment for three days with no groceries, splitting a box of stale Triscuits with Carrie three meals a day. If anything, cold weather is more an inconvenience than a danger. Plus, it’s been teetering on 45 degrees out the past week. How much colder would it get?

So… It got fucking cold.

Gotham had hit record-low temperatures. So low it hadn’t been a natural occurrence since the 60s. Lucky for Carrie, she had chemo this week and the hospital had gotten spooked by the recent weather reports so they asked her to stay overnight. While the hospital bill wouldn’t be nice, it’s way better than what Y/N is dealing with.

Her radiator is shitting out on her. The whole building's radiator system actually. Normally when the weather is this bad she would opt to work at home, like everyone else, except she can’t take the cold. Her body in particular can’t take the cold. It could be from the shitty surroundings in her apartment building or from sniffly Nathan who works in Wayne Enterprise’s marketing department, but she thinks she’s coming down with something. What’s worse is that the cold weather is making it worse.

Her whole chest felt like it was burning, which is a real contrast to how cold she was walking to work. She couldn’t get her car past the snow and she needs warmth and warmth is at Wayne Enterprises. So, she trudges into the empty building, up the elevator, and sits at her desk with a groan.

Breathing heavily, she shrugged her coat off her shoulders and pressed her freezing fingertips underneath her armpits. She looked at her reflection in her desktop monitor. Her cheeks were bright red and she had dark circles under her eyes. At least no one else was here to see her. No one else was here to see her…

Would it hurt to take a nap? No one would know. No one would see.

Y/N stood and stepped out into the hallway. Not. A. Single. Soul. Oh, she is so napping.

Bruce had chained up his tires this morning and headed to Wayne Enterprise. It was too bright for The Tumbler and he needed to gather a few equipment items from Lucious Fox’s bunker. It’s not like anyone was here anyway. There was not a single car in the garage, not even Y/N’s, which is really saying something.

He perused the bunker, grabbing a few small but powerful heaters, fleece-lined leather for his suit, and a couple of other items, stuffing them into his duffle bag. He was used to the cold, training in it, even living in it on one occasion, and the people of Gotham needed him so he’d be there.

Pulling the duffle bag over his shoulder with ease, he headed out of the bunker and towards the elevator. He left a particular file that wasn’t meant for Wayne Enterprise in his office, while no one was here, you can never be too careful. Except… There was someone here.

He could only assume the head poking out from her coat was Y/N and she was sleeping? In the office? Stepping closer to her, he noticed, even under all her layers, she was trembling. Pulling her coat collar from her face, he finally got a good look at her. She was flushed and had broken out into a sweat, even her ears were bright red. He held onto her shoulder and shook her lightly.

“Y/N,” Bruce spoke softly. She ground turning away from him. He slapped a hand to her forehead trying to gauge her temperature. She definitely had a fever, it couldn’t be lower than a 100. Slowly her eyes opened at the disruption, then became wide at who was standing over her.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m not the one sleeping in the office.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled embarrassed, “I don’t know how that happened-”

“Y/N you’re burning up. What are you even doing here?”

“Why does someone come to work, Bruce?”

“You’re not working. You’re sleeping.”

“I had the intent to work-”

“Y/N.”

“I just felt like coming in,” she snapped. In truth, she was embarrassed. Here was her billionaire boss. If he didn’t feel like sleeping in his mansion, he could stay the night at his penthouse. She was sure he had other properties as well, meanwhile her radiator couldn’t even stay on when it gets chilly outside.

Bruce held her stare with a firm gaze and narrowed his eyes.

“You’re going home.” It wasn’t a question and he definitely didn’t ask as he lifted her under her armpits from the couch and stood her up on the floor. He took her coat roughly from the couch and threw it over her shoulders. Bruce turned to pack the rest of her things up. Y/N was so tired, but she was also so frustrated. She had just gotten here. It had taken her so long to walk here. “Let’s go. Where’d you park?”

She remained silent and looked away from him.

“Y/N. Where did you park?”

“I’m not going home. I just got here.”

“You’re sick you’re going home,” before she could speak he added, “and don’t say your car is in the garage because I know it’s not in there.”

“...I parked on the street.”

He tilted his head examining her, “No you didn’t. The snow us up to the stairs. Where’s your car?”

His question came out as more of a statement, demanding of an answer. She wouldn’t look at him and he grew both frustrated and disappointed. “For the love of god, please tell me you did not walk here.”

“My car couldn’t get past the snow!” she loudly admitted, “Is that what you wanted to hear-”

“Y/N. When your car can’t get past the snow, it means you stay home!”

He held his hand to his brow, trying to sooth the tension in his head. Throwing his duffle bag and her work bag easily over his shoulder, he didn’t give her much of a chance to say anything as he grabbed her by the hand to pull her toward the elevator. Even in his frustrated state, shaking his head and rolling his eyes, his grip on her was still gentle.

Stubborn as ever, she would let him pull her to the car. She would let him buckle her in. She would let him drive her to her broken, cold home, but she wouldn’t say a damn thing about the radiator. None. Of. His. Business.

[She’s even more stubborn when she’s sick.]

And she did just that. She let Bruce Wayne take her hand, blaming the warmth in her face on her high fever. She let him tug her to his expensive McLaren 650s Spider with a new shiny set of winter tires. She enjoyed seeing it too and part of her enjoyed annoying him. And she let him plop her into his expensive shiny car, buckle her in, and drive her home. What she didn’t expect was him wanting to walk her inside…

“I can get inside just fine, thank you.” Y/N attempted to push him back towards his car. Her hand held to his chest and pushed firmly. He didn’t even budge. Not even a sway.

“You’re not walking up three flights of stairs alone in your condition.”

“My condition?” she paused. “How do you know I live on the third floor?”

“You put your address on your resume,” he lied smoothly.

“I didn’t know you read my resume-”

“Stop stalling.”

She tried to keep him out, she really did, but he was so persistent. They made it to the front door, thank you Mr.Wayne I can take it from here. Nope, he needed to help her up the stairs, so they made it up the stairs. Thank you, Mr.Wayne I think I can make it inside by myself. Nope, he had already made it up the stairs; he might as well finish the journey. They made it to her front door. Thank you, Mr.Wayne you can go now. Nope, there’s no reason he can’t sit her things down for her.

In her heart, she knew there was no way he didn’t notice the cool, crisp air in the hallway. The way not a single apartment radiated heat and she knew he had to be suspicious. Her hand shook in shame as she unlocked her apartment and opened the door up, head down.

Letting himself in, she heard a deep sigh, radiating from his chest, “Y/N, you can’t stay here-”

“Stop-”

“It’s freezing in here-”

“You don’t think I know that?” Once again, he grabbed her hand pulling her into the hallway, shaking her head. He took the keys straight out of her hand, locking the apartment door. “What are you doing? We just got here?”

“You’re staying with me this weekend.”

“Are you insane?”

“I have a house with over fifteen bedrooms. I think you can find somewhere to sleep.”

“This is so unprofessional.”

“I don’t care.” With her apartment keys he walked back toward the stairs at an alarming pace. She had no choice but to follow.

“Bruce, I swear to God I am not staying at the manor.”

“Welcome to Wayne Manor Miss.Y/N.”

@pank0w @moejoeflow @padsfirewhisky @maxinehufflepuffprincess @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @mariadvorak @100520s @st0rmyt @stxrsberkshire

#batfam #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batmom #bruce wayne #batboys x reader #slow burn #sick!reader #sickfic

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neuvistar · 7 months ago

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BIOHAZARDOUS ! signed: satoru gojo . wc 2.3k

— featuring ┊satoru gojo x fem!reader (bits of suguru)

— warnings / content warnings ┊all consensual! heated arguments (quite literally heated), mentions of cheating, toxic behaviours (don’t date red flags guys), car sex, vaginal fingering, titsucking, riding, he’s kinda mean here ngl . 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. | 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔’𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄? (tbd soon.) tags. @yuutx

— a/n ┊ok guys ☝️🤓 so the whole point of this title is kinda ironic… yk how the definition of biozardous is like it’s toxic n shit n poses a threat 2 humans??? YEAH. it’s like how toxic n stupid people poses a threat 2 everyone bc of their toxicity n how it’s dangerous (don’t get into relationships w red flags guys 🙅‍♀️) this is also a make-up post for not posting my silly tattoo artist blade sooner but it’ll be posted at some point!! AND guys i love gojo i swear i don’t see him like this at all!!! this was jus created all bc of that one frat boy art i saw 😢

suguru crossed his arms over his broad chest, his hard stare drilling into one of the motorcycles he was inspecting. he chuffs out a gentle laugh, knowing exactly what was wrong with the bike before leaning down with his screwdriver, unscrewing a few screws here and there. his ears picked up the sound of footsteps, glancing to his side.. his eyes follow your every movement, a mixture of gentleness and curiosity in his gaze. he watches as you turn away from his direction, packing your bag thoroughly. he can't help but take in the view of your hair. you’ve.. always been beautiful to him, but his thoughts are quickly pushed aside as he clears his throat and calls out to you, “leaving already?” his gaze was soft, soft as they always were, the creaking of the metal echoed through the garage while you gathered everything.

“yeah, my boyfriend’s pissed. i didn’t tell him i was working for you here,”

“yeah? he’s that type of guy?” suguru cocked his brow at you, holding the screwdriver firmly against his palms, “y’know, sweetheart.. i’m not sure if you can handle satoru. listen, i’ve heard some things about him. i know i can’t be judging your new relationship but i don’t think he’s good for you.” you pause, eyes lingering momentarily on him, lips curving into a grin. “i’ll be fine, suguru. i know he’s far different from you, but i think i’m alright, thank you for checking up on me.”

suguru’s eyebrows furrow, the hint of concern marrying his otherwise stoic facade. he nods, walking over as his towering stature looms over you, offering a semblance of protection despite the bond that faded away between you and him. "alright, i believe that.” he waves a hand dismissively, shooing away any lingering doubts or fears, even as his own heart rate accelerates with the aspect of more challenges, he was worried about you. he watched you finish packing, holding the bag firmly against your side, “i’ll be off then. i’ll see you tomorrow.” just as you were about to exit, suguru immediately took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb against your skin, “wait.” he stared at you with a sense of worry, pressing your hand against his cheek. “.. if you ever want us to go back to how we used to be.. i would accept that in a heartbeat. you know that, right?”

“yes. yes i’m aware.”

“ … i’m glad.”

…

yet to your dismay, your boyfriend saw and watched the entire thing while he was inside his car, seeing it all unfold right infront of his eyes. satoru bit the side of his mouth, clenching his jaw as frustration flowed through his veins. you had a lot of explaining to do.

you knew he saw, you knew that fact for sure. you were dreading every step you took to his car, but you couldn’t afford losing your composure now.. you had to act natural. once you opened the car door, you were met with a familiar silence that caved in between the both of you. three.. two.. one..“well, i hope you come bearing good news.” and.. there it was. you couldn’t help but glance towards his direction, a firm yet smug expression on his face. you sat there with your knuckles all white, from how tightly you were gripping your bag. “satoru.”

satoru groaned, rolling his eyes at your stern tone, knowing you were about to ramble him on how he shouldn’t be jealous because of something small like this. "you think i’m blind, huh? i’m practically a natural, baby," he retorted, attempting to lean against the window of his car beside him, "still not over him?" his grin was crooked as he tried to hide the smugness. "you think you found someone better than me?”

“toru, why are you always like this? every single damn time, it’s getting repetitive.” you turned away from him, staring off into the sunset, his voice ringing inside your ears. “i could say the same thing about you, [name]. you go crazy even at the sight of another girl being in my presence. so i think this is even.. am i right?”

“does that girl you hooked up with a few months ago count as even to me just speaking to someone i used to be acquainted with? you’re insane.”

"oh, come now," satoru drawled with a click of his tongue, rubbing his temple. you knew you were getting on his nerves, but that didn’t matter in a situation like this! "you don't seem to understand what i’m sayin’ at all. she was just a hook up. nothing more. it’s been months, baby. plus, weren’t we on a break?”

“nothing more? are you just disregarding the fact you practically cheated on me? even if we were on a damn break, that doesn’t mean you can go whoring around with another woman behind my back. are you fucking sick?”

despite the irritation twisting his face, satoru forced a smile. “and i suppose you're here to save poor, fragile me from my own recklessness? how cute." he chuckled softly, his eyes filled with mockery. "if you really cared, you wouldn't be working for your ex when i told you not to.” your body paused, frozen in place. amidst the silence, he could tell there was pure frustration radiating from your body. you glanced at him, raising a brow. “excuse me? why are you dragging suguru into this.. he hasn’t done anything!”

satoru raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips as he noticed your reaction. "he has. he dated you.” he chuckled dryly, shifting uncomfortably on the car seat. "working for suguru?" he let out a low whistle, shaking his head. your boyfriend’s smirk widened, turning into an annoyingly charming grin. "or maybe you're just another pawn in his grand scheme, huh?" he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, his expression challenging. "whatever. just do your job, babe. don’t bother fucking around with my business. tell suguru i said hi. and next time, bring some smelling salts for when he faints from surprise that we’re still together.”

unexpectedly, the sound of the seatbelt unbuckling rung through satoru’s ears. his breath hitched when he felt your hands pull on his shirt, tugging him towards you with a cold look in your eyes. “me working for someone i am not romantically linked with at all is nothing compared to you going out with someone you hooked up with months ago.” you leaned even closer.. “i’m not afraid to break up with you, right here right now..” satoru snorted at your words, barely suppressing a laugh as he took in your delicate display. hm. you were smaller than he was, that’s for sure. “your determination is almost impressive," satoru spoke, leaning forward slightly as his crystal gaze drifted downwards momentarily before locking with yours again. with a sardonic grin, satoru tilted his head at your words looking amused. "you need to separate us? sure thing, doll. just like you need to separate yourself from suguru’s puppet strings.”

you were tired of arguing. you knew one thing and one thing for sure, you were not gonna stay here with him. atleast not for long, until you have the last say in this. “then if you wanted to break up, you could’ve just told me straight up. don’t waste my damn time like this.”

"oh, believe me, i’ve considered it," satoru retorted, chuckling softly. "but then i’d lose all this fun, wouldn't i?” he gestured vaguely around his car, a smirk playing on his lips. "maybe i just like this sort of thing. it keeps things interesting. and besides, where would you be without me?” his gaze flickered to you, holding your stare for a moment. "i’m taking you home after this. i’ve got more important things to do than argue with my girlfriend who thinks she's got me figured out."

“i don’t want to figure you out.” you argued, the tone of your voice held such rage.. it was almost enough to break through him. “fuck you and your ego. you’ve done nothing but ruin every single relationship you’ve been in, yet you complain? you’re a fucking jerk.”

“whatever floats your boat then.” he muttered under his breath as he sank back onto the car seat, his body screaming at him to rest. but there was no peace to be found, not with his mind swirling with thoughts of the long heated argument you both just had.

… quite literally, heated.

now this.. you didn’t know how you even ended up like this.

“fuck, satoru…”

you were seated on his lap, breathing heavily with your shirt all ruffled up, your breasts in display for him like eye candy as satoru sucked on your delicate nipples. your skirt hiked up to your stomach as he held you gently. satoru groaned, his lips still wrapped around your nipple, fingers probing deeper into your warmth. he released your pert nipple with a pop, trailing kisses down your chest as he slowly slid a finger inside your heat, licking his lips at the damp feeling of your slickness coating his digit. “shit, you're so wet for me, baby," satoru whispered against your ear, his voice thick with amusement. your boyfriend then added another finger, stretching you out. with a slow, steady motion, satoru’s fingers pumped within you slowly inch by inch, allowing your body to adjust to his digits. satoru devoured your moans, he knew he wouldn't last long with you all pretty like this. he reached up and cupped your face, thumb brushing against your cheekbone in a gentle caress.

“satoru, you fucking jerk…” your breath hitched your breathing grew completely ragged and uneven, your skin flushed and your eyes fluttered shut. yet, satoru couldn't help but smirk as his fingers delved deeper inside you, drawing out your moans that were like perfect melodies to him. “you’re so tight, baby," he murmured, his voice low and seductive.. coated with lust. he wanted more of you. he could feel his cock twitch painfully against his briefs, desperate to free itself from its confines. “makes me want to bury myself inside you right here, right now." he paused, letting the words hang in the air between them, “right infront of your workplace. it’d be nice if suguru caught sight of this, wouldn’t it?”

your boyfriend’s cock throbbed the more he spoke, desperate to be inside you as soon as possible. satoru’s mouth was completely busy, his tongue lavishing attention on your sweet nipples as his fingers danced within your folds. he could feel your arousal building up through your aching body as you trembled with pleasure, and it only fuelled his own desire. he sucked harder on your nipple, slowly pushing another finger deeper inside your wetness, crooking it slightly to hit that sweet spot you loved so much. “you’re not really mad at me, aren’t you?" he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "you like feeling me inside you, making my cock feel good like this. after all… that’s why we’re dating, right?” … this asshole. you could feel his other large hand cupping your breasts, thumb brushing against the nipple he was licking just a few minutes ago. "i could do this all night, y’know?" he murmured, his voice husky with desire, “keep your pretty little stubborn ass right here, right in my lap, and never let you go."

“you should let me go.”

“oh but i won’t.“ his eyes locked onto yours, with a slow, calculated motion, his fingers were now replaced by the head of his cock. true inch by agonizing inch, he pushed inside you, feeling your tightness enveloping him, and he knew he was lost. “you know why? this pussy is too good for me to give up to someone else.”

“satoru!” you gasped out loud as you felt his member slid inside your entrance, the uncomfortable space of the car taking a toll on you as your ass nearly pressed against the steering wheel.

"wow, look at you," satoru soothed, his voice low and cocky as he held you close against his body. “taking it so well like always," he whispered as his lips brushed against your ear. his hips rocked gently as he pumped his cock deeper into your warmth, the car creaked and groaned around the both of you. satoru savoured the feel of your body wrapped around his, swallowing your moans and gasps of pleasure. “shit.” his fingers dug gently into your hips, holding you firmly in place. the sounds of your passion mingled with the rustling of your clothes and his.. the soft moans that escaped your lips were enough to hypnotize him, he’d always been obsessed with them. satoru’s hands roamed against your body, tracing your breasts, the dip of your waist, the swell of your hips. his lips pressed against yours deeply, his tongue dancing with yours as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, cock thrusting deeper into you with each pass. you hated how your body responded to him, your own hips meeting his, and especially how your pussy was squeezing him tight as you came messily all over his cock, your sweet moans muffled against his lips.

satoru’s own orgasm washed over him, his body tensing as he emptied himself into you, the feeling of you enveloping him like a velvet glove drove him to the edge, making him want to ruin you once more a second time.. but he can wait. the taller male’s breath came in ragged gasps.. holding you close against him, heart pounding in his chest. “such a sweet girl like you shouldn’t be with me, babe. i almost feel bad for you,”

…

“you know i’m trouble, don’t you?”

#ᖭི༏ᖫྀ maryse’s diary ૮꒰˶˃̵ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა #gojo <33 #finally wrote abt my glorious king everyone clap it up #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk gojo #jjk x you #gojou satoru x reader

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copperbadge · 4 months ago

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[ID: A photograph of a rusty stoplight pole, seen at more or less waist height; a sign on it reads "Push Button, Wait For Signal" but where the button would normally be there is simply a hole and a piece of wire sticking out.]

Yesterday on my usual route to the grocery store, I encountered a stoplight pole that normally has a pushbutton on it; as you can see, the button is no longer attached, but a loose wire hanging out of the pole indicates that this is a recent development.

I'd never really considered how dangerous this intersection is for drivers because I'm always on foot, but in describing this to you all I did come to the conclusion that it's way more dangerous than I thought. You have two sets of northbound lanes and two sets of southbound lanes -- one set of each slopes down from an overpass, and one set of each comes up from under, plus there's an east/west street coming out of a parking garage. I know that sounds confusing so for a visual:

This is looking south -- the northbound "underpass" lane is on the left, the "overpass" lane is next, then there's another "underpass" going south, and the "overpass" south lane next to the Target, with that car on the far right turning into the parking garage. It's...complicated.

Additionally, people drive fucking crazy around there and at night it's a popular area for street racing.

All of which to say there have been a number of brutal accidents there, so I looked around and sure enough, found some debris. I happened to snap a photo but it wasn't until I was cleaning out my pictures this morning that I realized oh...I do know where the pushbutton for the walk signal is.

There's the bitch, about ten feet away, next to the remains of a taillight and a bumper.

[ID: A photograph of debris from a car crash, lying on the sidewalk; an oblong black object is visible in the foreground and some shards of glass and metal are also lying nearby. Circled in blue is a round object with a socket in the back, which is fairly evidently the pushbutton normally attached to the stoplight pole.]

#chicago #traffic

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ivystoryweaver · 8 months ago

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3 Times Jake Lockley Tried to Kill You and 1 Time He Saved Your Life

Part 2 of 5: Gun

previous || Miniseries Masterlist || Main Masterlist || next

Pairing: Jake Lockley x f!reader

Summary: Jake creates a second chance to get the job done

Or: Will you get a new toy to play with?

Word Count: 1.8k

Content: Read all series warnings on the miniseries masterlist! nsfw, mdni, more below the cut

Part 2: Power imbalance, kidnapping, violence, language, stalking, very extremely dirty gun play, danger, masturbation, not beta'd

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

A week passed before you left your penthouse.

Jake’s boss was not a patient man, but Jake convinced him that you were unreachable for a few days, and that he was on it. He sent new surveillance pictures to calm the man down, assuring him he would take care of the problem.

He wanted to wait longer. You were hurt, after all. No way you’d completely recovered from a stab wound, but you seemed determined to get back to your life. Of course, why did he care if you were fully recovered or still hurting if he was only looking for another opportunity to kill you?

Unfortunately, your inept bodyguards Dumb and Dumber added a third. So…Dumb and Dumber and Dumbest?

He only made things worse for himself for letting you live, but you got under his skin, plain and simple.

Another week passed before he could get you alone again, and it took practically 24/7 stalking to find his moment.

So…he had definitely descended into creep behavior.

Time to get this over with.

He found you in the park again, walking instead of jogging this time. Maybe your side still hurt.

The Dummies lingered close by, but Jake could handle a challenge.

He walked right by you with a nonchalant stroll, and pushed a gun into your (not wounded) side, ushering you into his car before your idiot bodyguards could react.

Despite your fantasies about this man over the past two weeks, terror flooded your body as he steered with one hand and held you at gunpoint with his other.

His clean shaven face momentarily distracted you - perhaps his first intelligent decision. He should at least try to hide from your father, and even a slight alteration to his appearance could prove helpful. His strong, sharp jawline and pliable lips made him seem simultaneously more approachable and somehow deadlier.

“Got your present,” he smoothly intoned. The corner of his mouth curled. “Brought you a new one to play with.”

“Okay. Okay,” you gasped, holding out your hands defensively. “If you’re trying to scare me, it’s working, all right? Just…do what you’re gonna do. You're scaring the shit out of me.”

Jake tutted, but kept his eyes on the road. “You really have a death wish, don’t you, Princesa?”

“Don’t call me that,” you spat. “My father calls me that. His princess.”

Probably not a great idea to bring up your father to the man who wanted revenge against him.

Jake held his tongue, driving in silence for another few minutes. Finally he pulled the car into a parking garage and drove down the bottom level, below street level, before turning off the engine and looking over at you.

“How are you feeling?” He asked you with a certain tenderness in his coffee colored eyes, as if he actually might care.

“What? Why the fuck do you care how I’m feeling?” You snapped. “You have a gun in my face and you stabbed me. I feel like shit. Like - terrified, impatient shit, thank you very much.”

“There it is,” he appreciatively chuckled. “I didn’t think one little stab wound would turn you into a damsel.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” you clapped back, feigning courage. “Shooting someone is a hard crime to cover up. But I’m sure you know that because you look like the kind of asshole who does my father’s dirty work. You really want me splattered all over the inside of this piece of shit you call a car?”

Jake shoved the barrel of his gun right between your eyes. “You’re calling my car a piece of shit? That’s reason enough to pull the trigger, muñeca. We don’t all have daddy’s blood money to buy us toys.”

Despite your feistiness, a loaded gun between your eyes did give you pause. Your lips trembled as Jake dragged the gun down your nose to your mouth.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, tracing the fullness of your parted, panting lips with his weapon. “Shame I have to kill you.”

If someone paid you a billion dollars, you would never be able to puzzle out why you did it: but your tongue darted out to lick the barrel of his gun.

Jake locked eyes with you as you swirled your tongue around the cool metal. “You know how to use one of these, baby?” He purred, pushing the gun into your mouth.

You nodded slightly, body trembling as you wrapped your lips around the barrel, accepting it all the way to the back of your throat until you gagged.

Jake groaned, easing the gun back toward your lips, almost completely removing it from your mouth before fucking it back into your wet, waiting cavern. You started to bob your head, sucking the weapon like a cock, eyes locked on his as he shoved it over and over again…

…to the back of your throat, gagging you, to the front of your lips until drool spilled out the corners of your mouth.

“Good girl,” he rasped, finally removing the offending metal from you completely.

Your lust-soaked panties didn’t prevent you from collapsing in a small measure of relief after your wild but dangerous display. He could have blown your head off, even by accident, and still probably intended to.

“You didn’t answer me,” he chided, using the gun’s barrel to lift your chin back up, forcing you to look at him. “I can see you know how to use that pretty mouth, but do you know how to use this?”

Shaking your head quickly, you wanted to scream as he condescendingly chuckled. “Of course not. You are a princess. Here.” Shoving the thing into your trembling fingers, he made sure to turn on the safety. He reached for your opposite hand, correctly positioning your grip in his gloved hands.

“Two hands, like this,” he instructed. “No action movie bullshit.”

His eyebrows shot up, waiting for you to respond. You slowly nodded.

“It’s loaded, but - " Positioning your finger by the safety, he showed you how to use it correctly. “Safety first. Don’t ever take the safety off unless you have a plan to get rid of a body.”

“Why?” You gasped, your hands dipping under the weight of the weapon as he finally removed his own. “How do you know I won’t shoot you?”

And he smiled. “I don’t.”

“I will,” you huffed, shoving the gun into his chest. “I’ll do it.”

Jake wet his lips, his eyes darkening as he cocked his head to the side. “Take it. You need a new toy to play with tonight, when you’re thinking about me.”

“You asshole - "

“You started this,” he lowly growled, “by sending me that knife instead of giving it to daddy.” His voice dropped an octave as he leaned in, his breath ghosting your lips. “I bet you shove this gun in your pussy the way you let me shove it into your mouth,” he taunted, slowly reaching up to put his hand over yours before pushing the gun down between your legs.

You whimpered, thinking this was it. He was about to shoot you right now.

“Safety’s on, baby,” he leaned in and breathed on your ear, pushing the gun lower until it rested over your panties.

“You’re wet right now, aren’t you?” He taunted, slowly rubbing the gun back and forth.

“Dammit, I knew you were a pervert,” you whispered, unable to muster a convincing amount of guile.

Jake immediately removed his hands, holding them up as if surrendering. “I’m never going to touch you like that until you ask me to.”

“I’ll fucking kill you first,” You growled, shoving the gun back into his chest.

He easily disarmed you, pointing the gun right at your head. “Get out.”

Shit. Shit, this was it. “I-if those are my last words, I can do better.”

He actually laughed. “Get the fuck out.”

He waited until you opened the car door before deftly removing the magazine and tossing the pieces out behind you. “Keep it. Someone’s trying to kill you.”

Reaching over to close the door, he peeled out of the parking garage, leaving you there alone. And armed. Sort of.

“Asshole!” You screamed after him.

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You dreaded your bodyguards questioning where you went and why you suddenly had possession of a weapon. But when they finally got your call, you decided to turn the tables, letting them know that if your father found out you were missing today, on their watch, he would use the gun in your hand to put holes in the backs of their heads.

They left you alone.

You were reeling by the time you got back to your penthouse, but inevitably, nighttime came.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” The smooth velvet of his voice echoed in your head. “Good girl…I bet you shove it in your pussy…”

You weren’t about to shove a loaded gun anywhere in your body, so you left the magazine out and took off all your clothes, sliding under the sheets.

“Take it. You need a new toy to play with tonight, when you’re thinking about me..”

You dragged the barrel of the gun across your hard nipples, just the way you played with the knife. The simple memory of his voice had you soaked already.

“I fucking hate you,” you whispered into the dark, somehow wishing he could hear you as you plunged the gun’s barrel into your dripping cunt.

“Oh fuck…” The metal wasn’t as forgiving as one of your toys, but your pussy clenched and quivered just the same, knowing he predicted you would fuck yourself with his weapon - that he hoped you would.

With two fingers, you circled your clit, wishing you could pant his name as you writhed and fucked down harder, but…

you still didn’t know him.

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Jake waited a few days, wondering if you’d send the gun back to him, covered in your juices, but maybe you’d wised up. If you had any sense at all, you’d give it to the police, but he was certain you wouldn’t.

His employer was growing impatient.

And even Jake didn’t understand why he was dragging his feet...except that seeing you sent a thrill jolting through him he couldn't understand.

But time to get this shit done or it would be him at the bottom of the river. The fire in your voice as you snapped back at him like a wounded animal...the memory of the rise and fall of your breasts as you pretended not be afraid of him - the misplaced desire in you to be brave, even though no one in your life cared enough to teach you basic self-defense or how to handle a firearm... You were not the victim here. Your family made victims. He couldn't be your savior.

It was you or him.

So no more games.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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