#or the lady today asking if we had more of something in the back . . . to be so fr i walked back there and stood in the freezer for a
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
my-darling-boy · 11 hours ago
Note
Hello there!
More than five years ago you answered an ask "should I still try to get access to gender affirming health care when the world seems to near her end", where you said that it took you a long, long time to get access and that it was a woman on the phone who listened to you, that one just has to find "that one person that cares that opens a few doors". That was also the time where I started applying for HRT &etc, and that last sentence was always on my mind when I got denied or someone sent me to someone else. It was one of the things that kept me going when I truly was loosing any hope of ever getting access to top surgery, and today I got the call that my health insurance has agreed to cover it. I am nearly there, and I have to thank you for it as well. I truly wish that the universe repays your kindness
Thank you for sharing, I’m so happy to hear you’ve gotten yourself so far because it’s not an easy road. Dealing with insurance is an absolute nightmare, but if there’s one piece of advice I’ll continue to give, all it takes is one person somewhere to listen and treat you with dignity and respect, you need a lot of resilience and persistence, but that person is out there.
The story again for anyone that doesn’t know: was trying to get top surgery years ago, kept getting coverage denied, insurance kept suggesting surgeons that had no history of performing ts (one of them was reviewed to have left surgical instruments inside of patients Yikes). One surgeon said I had to wait 9 months for a paid consultation just to answer if she had experience with the procedure, and that was my last straw, I was done being messed about. Called up my insurance, a lady picked up, I vented what had been happening for the last 4 years at the time, I didn’t know what else to do, but she listened. When I told her the latest incident, she suddenly dropped the customer service act and said, “Hold up, they said what?” and so I told her again. She was in disbelief. There was a long pause and she asked if she could put me on hold. About 30-40 minutes go by, I’m waiting, I’ve nothing left to lose. Finally she gets back on the line and apologies for keeping me so long. She says she manually combed the computer database for surgeons offering gender affirming services and found no one… so she said she and the others in the office went and physically hand searched several filing cabinets for a surgeon. She said, “I think we found you someone, he’s in network, he studied at Harvard, he’s a member of a trans health board. We don’t know why he wasn’t in our computer system, but he’s approved,” and gave me his details. I thanked her earnestly for what she went out of her way to do, and she said something I’ll never forget. “You know, I have a son your age. And if he was going through this, I would want him to get the help he needs.” Who knows how long that file had been buried unnoticed in that cabinet or how many more automated denials it would’ve taken for me to leave this world early, but her empathy saved my ass because when she heard me struggling, she thought of her son. Insurance companies are designed to treat everyone like numbers, strangers, or in my case “freaks”. But to her, it was like her child calling her and asking for help. And yeah I’m alive because of her
120 notes · View notes
shroomdle · 20 hours ago
Text
**Birthday Blues**
Short Story // Comfort // Birthday
Ghost and Soap
⬇️Start⬇️
“Happy Birthday Lt!” Soap shouted and busted down Ghost’s bedroom door. He wanted to sleep in but it seemed that was not going to happen. The Scot was by his bedside within seconds. Speaking about something Ghost didn’t quite catch. He had just woken- been woken up and nothing made sense yet.
Grunting Ghost sat up in bed, going to tell Soap to quiet down. He didn’t exactly want everyone to know it was his birthday. In fact he wasn’t even sure how Soap had found out in the first place.
However, before he could even speak a tray of food was shoved into his lap. Waffles with a side of syrup. Butter coated the top of the waffles and melted there slowly.
“It’s your birthday, or did I get the date wrong?” Soap fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a cracked to hell phone with a smile. “No, it’s today.” Soap looked back to the sleepy man. Blonde feathered hair stuck up in random places. Tired brown eyes blinking down looking at the meal Soap had placed before them.
“I appreciate the thought, but I don’t celebrate my birthday. Everytime I try something goes wrong. Trust me.” Ghost finally managed to explain. Maybe he could save this. “I’ll eat the food though. Haven’t had breakfast in bed before.”
Pursing his lips, Soap looked in deep thought. “Well, today we are celebrating it. Sooo, eat up. Gonna need all the energy you can get for today!”
Sleep would have also given him energy, Ghost thought. He scooted back and started on the waffle. Even the syrup had been warmed up. A small part of him felt this was too much already. He didn’t want to be doted on.
As reluctant as Ghost was, Soap managed to get him out of bed and even out the door. Driving them all the way up into the mountains. Supposedly there was a small town there and Soap was excited to spend the day with him. Celebrating his birthday to the fullest!
You can imagine how that went..
First the lunch place Soap wanted to take Ghost had been closed. He didn’t check before they left, of course.
Then the truck's wheel got stuck in a random patch of sand. Ghost and Soap had to dig that out. Nothing was going right, as Ghost had assumed would happen.
“That’s it!” Soap shouted hitting the steering wheel. “I know something that not even this damned universe can mess up.” He grumbled and growled driving down the road with determination on his face.
Ghost couldn’t help but laugh, though he continued to go along with it.Soap pulled up to an ice cream parlor, rushing out to check if it was open. It was, even though he again didn’t check beforehand.
Opening Ghosts door Soap stood there proud with his chest puffed out. “Alright, ice cream, everyone loves ice cream. You can sample flavors and get exactly what You want.” Nothing could ruin this.
Stepping out of the truck and into the parlor they were greeted with a young lady, she didn’t look over 20. This might have even been her first job. “What can I get you gentlemen?” She piped up and looked eager to help.
“We were just gonna sample a few flavors then decide.” Soap explained and eyed the ice cream behind the glass. Ghost smiled at how excited he looked.
“Can I try this one?” That went on for a while. Soap trying different flavors and then asking Ghosts opinion.
“It’s..good. What flavor is that one?” Ghost questioned as Soap’s face flushed. Had Ghost really just flirted with him?
“Erm.. this is Lemon Lavender.” Came the reply as Ghost nearly choked.
“W-What? I’m allergic to lavender.” Soap’s face dropped at that. Looking to the woman behind the counter, Soap apologized over and over as he pushed Ghost out the door.
Once Soap and Ghost had been placed in a room at the medical center Soap burst into tears. He sobbed and sniffled, not meeting Ghost’s reddening face.
He wasn’t deathly allergic but he definitely itched.
“I just wanted..” Soap’s words broke off as he cried more, “for you to enjoy your birthday! Then I go.. I go and poison you!”
Laughing, Ghost held his stomach and tried to speak but he couldn’t stop laughing. Soap sniffled once more and glared at Ghost. “It’s not funny!”
“Johnny, this has been the best birthday ever.” Ghost explained as he wrapped an arm around Soap’s waist pulling him into the medical bed with him.
“You don’t have to lie..” Was all the reply Soap offered.
“It is.. I got to spend the whole day with you. It sure won’t be a birthday I’ll forget, that’s for sure.” With that, Ghost leaned in and kissed Soap’s cheek.
Definitely won’t be a birthday he will forget. Not ever.
—————————————————
End~✨
Please, excuse any spelling mistakes…
29 notes · View notes
pupkou · 9 months ago
Text
i love how when customers need something they just stand 5 feet away and stare at me and don’t say a word it’s a very good way of communicating what they’re looking for and needing from me
7 notes · View notes
lizzy-bonnet · 6 months ago
Text
Working in the yarn shop on Sundays, I have a group of regulars who come in specifically then for my advice on their knitting projects and over the years I've gotten to know a lot about them - their ailments and their spouses and their children and their careers and their mothers are all things they find themselves telling me about over the course of trying to bring forth a knitted piece. Most of them are women, most of them are over 50, and most of them have been through a lot and are trying to reclaim something for themselves through the act of creation. A while back, one of these older women opened up to me about how when she first came to this country it was just her and her daughter and they were so happy until her husband joined them, when he promptly began making her miserable. Now, decades later, all her children live far away, she spends all her time taking the husband to dialysis, her sciatic is bad and she may need heart surgery (who will take care of her, I find myself wondering), and she comes to see me once a month or so to talk about a new project and tells me it is the only thing she does for herself.
Today she came in with a smile on her face and delightedly introduced me to her son, who will soon move closer to home with his family. Then she says, as if commenting on the weather, that on Friday her husband died, and tomorrow they will hold the funeral. For a second I had tonal whiplash from the conversation and then I realized, oh, you're unburdened now. Like the relief in her face and her body were palpable. The son shows a picture of a cardigan to me and asks if it can be knitted, and we pick out yarn and a pattern. She's so excited to make it for him. She beams when she looks at him; he is tall and handsome and polite, and wants to wear something she made for him. She is proud of this man she raised.
It just made me think of the many, many women who come from cultures where leaving a crappy spouse isn't an option so they shuttle along doing their best and trying to find some beauty and joy in whatever way they can. Kids may not visit often because their spouse isn't welcoming or there is bad blood, so they are lonely. I remind her, we have our social group. She hasn't come to it much before because she is always taking him to dialysis, but now she says she will come often and meet the other women. Many of them are like her, but in the craft they find companionship that has been absent for so much of their lives. I hope there will be renewal for this dear lady and that she can learn more about herself and what brings her joy.
13K notes · View notes
areislol · 8 months ago
Text
‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎"WANT A (HERSHEY) KISS?" — with JJK men
Tumblr media
pairings. satoru gojo, suguru geto, choso, yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, kento nanami, ryomen sukuna, yuta okkotsu x gn! reader
warnings. all sweet mushy stuff, fluff, can be seen as an established relationship or mutual crushing. geto is written to be taller than you (sorry to all my tall ladies), sukuna calls reader "human" (his weird little pet name.), characters might be ooc.
a/n. i overheard my friend ask my best friend if she wanted a kiss and i immediately thought about this hershy kiss idea.
‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎synopsis. asking the jjk men if they want a kiss, but not that kind of kiss.
wordcount. 3.4k
Tumblr media
— satoru gojo
gojo straightens up, his posture suddenly becoming theatrically grand. he places a hand dramatically over his heart, his eyes wide with mock seriousness as he gazes deeply into yours.
“oh, you have no idea what you’ve just unleashed,” he declares, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “i’m more than ready for your kiss!”
with a flourish, he takes a step back. he raises his other hand to his forehead as if swooning, his usual confident smirk replaced by an exaggerated look of faux vulnerability.
“oh, how could i have known today would be the day? the day my heart would finally be captured by an unexpected proposal!”
he lowers himself slightly as if preparing for the grand finale of some romantic play, his eyes never leaving yours.
you quirked an eyebrow, confused by your gojo's reaction. he takes a deep breath, his expression shifting to one of resolute determination. "what—"
“i accept your kiss with all the fervour of a thousand lifetimes!” he exclaims, his voice rising to a dramatic crescendo.
before you can react, he swoops in closer, closing his eyes as if truly expecting a romantic kiss. his lips are slightly puckered, and he holds the pose for a moment, the room filled with anticipation of his over-the-top performance.
"....what are you doing..." is all you manage to say while staring at gojo like he was a madman. at your words, he lets out a faint "huh" before peeking with one eyes open. you cocked your head to the side, reaching your palm out with a... hershey's kiss?
gojo's eyes travel between your face and the chocolate treat on your palm. both his eyes open as he resumes his old posture. "what's that?" he asks, confused. where was his kiss?
you nudge him with your hand, "take it, it's the kiss." you responded. there was a pregnant pause as gojo felt his soul being crushed and crumbling away.
he pouts as he usually does when things don't go his way. "so i won't be getting the kiss?" his expression shifts to one of exaggerated disappointment.
“you won't be getting any kiss other than the chocolate kiss in the palm of my hands! if you don't want it then just say it, i'll give it to someone else.”
gojo immediately felt a stab to his heart at your words. "so... no kiss..?" he asked once more, pushing his luck a bit too much. you turned around, beginning to walk over to maki.
"wait wait wait! no— wait! i'll take the kiss, come back! i thought we had something special!!"
safe to say gojo chased you around the courtyard wanting that kiss so badly. (p.s. he never got it)
— suguru geto
he looks up from his tea, his eyebrows raising slightly in mild surprise. his calm demeanour doesn’t waver, but you can see a spark of curiosity in his eyes.
“a kiss?” he repeats, setting down his cup with a gentle clink. “well, that’s unexpected.”
his eyes scan your face, you approached him with a playful smile, unbeknownst to him, holding a small hershey’s kiss hidden in your hand.
his response is measured, his tone light yet sincere. there’s a slight tilt of his head as he considers your offer, a small, enigmatic smile playing on his lips. his curiosity is clearly piqued.
“are you sure you want to do this right now?” he asks softly, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
you can see the gears turning in his mind. he stands up gracefully, his tall frame now towering over you slightly. his presence is both calming and commanding, and he steps closer, his gaze never leaving yours.
“if you’re offering, who am i to refuse?” he says, his voice soft and gentle, yet with a hint of playfulness.
as he leans in, his eyes close slightly, and his movements are slow and deliberate. his face is inches from yours, his lips poised as if expecting a tender kiss on the cheek or lips.
his breath is warm against your skin, just as his lips are about to meet yours, you can’t hold it in any longer. you burst out laughing, the sound breaking the tension. geto’s eyes snap open, and he pulls back slightly, a look of mild confusion and surprise on his face.
“wait, suguru,” you manage to say between giggles, holding up the small, foil-wrapped hershey’s kiss. “i meant hershey’s kiss!”
geto blinks, taking in the sight of the tiny chocolate in your hand. for a moment, he’s taken aback, his calmness cracking just enough to show his genuine surprise. then, a slow smile spreads across his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement.
“oh, i see,” he says, chuckling softly, the sound low and rich. “you got me there.”
his surprise melts into good-natured acceptance as he reaches out to take the hershey’s kiss from your hand, his fingers brushing yours gently.
“i should have known there was a twist,” he says, his tone filled with amusement. he unwraps the chocolate with ease, the foil crinkling softly as he reveals the sweet treat inside.
“well, i can’t say no to chocolate,” he continues, popping the hershey’s kiss into his mouth with a graceful motion. “but i might still want that other kiss later.”
you shake your head, still laughing, "you’re too much, suguru.”
he smiles, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "that’s what makes life interesting,” he replies, his tone affectionate. “you always manage to keep me on my toes.”
geto leans in slightly, his expression turning more playful, a hint of a challenge in his eyes. “but just so you know, i'm expecting a real kiss next time,” he says softly, his voice filled with a gentle warmth that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. “no more tricks.”
you nod, your smile matching his. “alright.”
— choso
choso’s dark eyes widen slightly, and he looks at you in surprise.
his usually stoic demeanour softened by your unexpected offer. choso blinked in surprise, his dark eyes widening gradually. "a kiss?" he spoke, uncertain of what he had heard. "from you?"
your playful smile widened a fraction as you nodded. "that's if you really want one," you replied.
choso's expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of happiness crossing his features. he continued to sit down on the chair, his eyes, usually so guarded, were fixed on yours with anticipation.
"well since you asked," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
you nodded again, containing your joy as you held out the small chocolate treat. but choso, his attention solely on you, didn't notice your extended hand.
instead, he leaned in a fraction closer, his breath brushing against your cheek as he waited expectantly.
time seemed to slow, the air thick with anticipation. and then, as he continued to wait, you couldn't hold back any longer. with a gentle chuckle, you revealed the hershey's kiss, holding it between your fingers.
"wait, choso," you said, your voice soft. "i meant a hershey's kiss."
for a fleeting moment, confusion clouded choso's eyes, his brows furrowing slightly as he processed your words. the disappointment that followed was palpable, a subtle shift in his demeanour as he withdrew slightly, his gaze dropping to the chocolate in your hand.
"oh," he murmured quietly, a faint flush colouring his cheeks. "i see. i misunderstood."
regret tinged your amusement now, your heart squeezing at the sight of his crestfallen expression. you held onto whatever you could to stop yourself from apologising (despite it not being your fault in the first place) but his saddened face had a deadly grip on your aching heart.
letting out a soft sigh, you decide to make up for this misunderstanding. "i'll make it up to you," you promised, offering him the hershey's kiss with a gentle smile.
he looks back at you, his eyes searching yours for lord knows what. you step closer, closing the distance between you. “here,” you say softly, holding the hershey’s kiss in one hand and reaching up to gently cup his cheek with the other. “you can have both.”
you lean in and place a tender kiss on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin under your lips. as you pull back, you see the love in his eyes, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"how was the kiss?"
"amazing."
— yuji itadori
yuji sat relaxed on the couch, flipping through a magazine with casual interest before you asked him the question.
he looked up from his magazine, his expression momentarily puzzled before a flicker of curiosity crossed his face. "a kiss?" he repeated as his head cocked to the side, intrigued.
"yeah," you continued, your smile widening as you extended the small chocolate towards him. "i thought you might like one."
a hint of confusion lingered on yuji's features as he accepted the chocolate from you. "oh, thanks!" he exclaimed, unwrapping the chocolate with a grin. he popped it into his mouth, savouring the sweetness with an appreciative nod.
however, as he finished the chocolate, his gaze turned back to you with a playful look on his face. "that was good," he remarked casually, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.
"but you know, i was actually hoping for a different kind of kiss."
you couldn't help but laugh softly at his playful teasing, feeling a warmth spread through you at his easygoing nature. "oh really?" you replied teasingly, pretending to consider his request. "what kind of kiss were you hoping for?"
yuji's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "hmm, how about…" he trailed off, leaning in closer with a twinkle in his eye.
before he could finish his sentence, you leaned in swiftly and gently kissed his warm cheek. his skin was soft against your lips, radiating a faint warmth.
yuji blinked in surprise, his hand instinctively touching his cheek where your lips had just been.
"like that?" you asked with a playful smirk, teasing him lightly.
yuji chuckled softly, his cheeks dusted with a faint blush. "yeah," he admitted, his voice softening. "that was nice."
the room fell into a comfortable silence, filled with a newfound ease. yuji glanced at you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
"thanks for the chocolate, and the kiss," he said sincerely, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. you shake your head, "it's fine, i enjoyed the kiss."
yuji immediately brightens up at your words before speaking. "can i get another kiss?" he looks at you with those pleading, puppy eyes. ugh. you let out a soft sigh and nod. "of course, on the cheek or lips?"
"lips please!"
— megumi fushiguro
he pauses. did he hear you correctly? a kiss? why now, as he's training? did you need to distract him after doing something wrong (you had a tendency to do that)? thousands of thoughts whirled around in his head.
"a... a kiss?" he repeated, his voice betraying a hint of confusion and something else—perhaps a flicker of vulnerability.
you nodded, feeling giddy for absolutely no reason. "yeah, a kiss. what do you think?"
for a moment, megumi seemed to be at a loss for words. he glanced around, as if checking to see if anyone else was watching, then looked back at you.
"why are you asking me that?" he said, his voice low and slightly nervous.
you couldn't help but chuckle softly at his reaction. "just answer the question, megumi. do you want one or not?"
his cheeks took on a faint tint of pink, a sight that made your heart skip a beat. he struggled with his thoughts for a moment before he finally nodded, his gaze steady on yours. "sure," he said quietly.
you pulled the small hershey's kiss from your pocket and held it out to him. "here," you said, waiting for him to take the treat.
megumi stared at the chocolate in your hand, his expression shifting from confusion to realization and then to mild embarrassment. he let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, shaking his head with a wry smile.
"oh, yeah. thanks," he muttered, feeling completely and utterly embarrassed by the thought that he would actually be getting a different type of kiss.
your eyes focus solely on megumi as he stares at the chocolate in your hand. he seemed disappointed but tried his best to hide it, but he knew better.
"you look disappointed. why?"
there goes your attentiveness.
"nothing's wrong. i just thought that.." he paused, taking the chocolate and unwrapping it, popping it into his mouth. your brows raised at his abrupt pause, indicating for him to go on.
you wait for him to finish the chocolate, and when he does you notice a faint blush on his cheeks. he seems to consider something for a moment, his eyes growing more contemplative.
megumi let out a soft sigh, eyes downcast as if embarrassed to say whatever he was about to say. "if..." he began slowly, "i was hoping that you would give me the other kind of kiss,"
his words took you by surprise, and you felt a warm flush creep up your cheeks. "oh?" you replied, your heart fluttering at his unexpected words (though you haven't fully comprehended it yet). after a few seconds, the realisation hit. "OHHH!! was that the type of kiss you were expecting?"
"shut up."
— kento nanami
nanami raised an eyebrow, curiosity was evident on his face. "a kiss?" he repeated. you nod your head.
"yes, a kiss. what do you say?"
he studied your face for a moment, his sharp eyes searching for any hint of a joke. but seeing your expression, he relaxed. "alright," he said with a small, gentle smile.
"i suppose i could indulge."
to your surprise, nanami stood up and closed the distance between you with a few steps. gently, he cupped your face in his warm, calloused hand. leaning in, he placed a small, chaste kiss on your forehead, his lips soft against your skin.
"there," he said, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "now you can give me a kiss."
your heart fluttered wildly in your chest, and you felt a flush rise to your cheeks. you fumbled for a moment, holding up the small hershey's kiss that had been concealed in your grip.
"i-i meant this kiss," you stammered, your voice flustered. "but this works too."
nanami's eyes flicked to the chocolate in your hand, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "ah, i see," he said, a rare glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "a hershey's kiss."
he took the small chocolate from your hand, unwrapping it with practised ease, he popped the chocolate into his mouth, savouring the sweetness. "delicious," he remarked, his gaze never leaving yours.
you couldn't help but laugh, still feeling flustered by his actions as you shook your head. "i didn't expect you to actually kiss me like that," you admitted, a grin creeping onto your face, tugging at the corner of your lips.
nanami's smile widened slightly, a gentle warmth in his eyes. "you asked if i wanted a kiss," he said simply. "i saw no reason to decline."
— ryomen sukuna
the room was thick with tension as the king of curses lounged on his throne-like seat, his piercing red eyes flickering with a dangerous mix of boredom and disdain.
the king of curses rarely indulged in the mundane pleasantries of human interaction, yet when it comes to you, it becomes tolerable.
you approached him, chocolate clutched in your hand. "hey, sukuna," you called out, trying to keep your voice steady.
he shifted his gaze towards you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded you with a mix of curiosity and contempt. "what is it, human?" he growled, his voice dripping with disdain.
taking a deep breath, you mustered your courage and offered him a tentative smile. "do you want a kiss?"
for a moment, sukuna stared at you, his expression unreadable. then, a mocking scoff escaped his lips, and he leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "a kiss?"
"i don't want your disgusting lips on mine, or on my skin at all. foul. don't you ever ask me that stupid question ever again."
you let out a sigh, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at his words. "i didn't mean that kind of kiss," you said softly, revealing the small chocolate in your hand. "i meant a hershey's kiss."
sukuna's eyes flicked to the chocolate, and for a fleeting moment, a flicker of something—curiosity, perhaps—passed through his gaze. he snatched the chocolate from your hand, unwrapping it with a sneer.
"pathetic," he muttered, popping the sweet treat into his mouth. he chewed slowly, his expression shifting from contempt to thoughtful consideration as he continued to chew.
you observed him, noticing the subtle change in his face. despite his harsh words, there was a part of him that seemed to enjoy the small gesture, though, he'd rather allow himself to be killed than admit his feelings.
after swallowing the chocolate, sukuna's eyes returned to yours, his gaze intense and unwavering. "that was tolerable," he admitted grudgingly, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "is there anything else?"
you shake your head. "no... what else would you want?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
he leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours. "another type of kiss," he said, his tone both commanding and taunting. "show me if you dare."
you hesitated, the weight of his demand on your heart. his earlier insult still lingered in your mind, but there was something in his gaze—a challenge, a test—that compelled you to step forward.
sukuna's eyes gleamed with a predatory anticipation as you drew closer. when your lips brushed against his cheek, his skin was surprisingly warm, a stark contrast to his cold behaviour.
the kiss was brief, a soft and tentative gesture that seemed to surprise even him. as you pulled back, you searched his face for a reaction. sukuna was silent, his expression neutral. then, a slow, almost imperceptible smile spread across his lips—a smile that was equal parts dangerous and intrigued.
"not bad," he murmured, his voice softer but no less commanding. "perhaps you're not as foolish as i thought."
sukuna's eyes darkened, his smirk widening slightly. "don't think this changes anything," he warned, his voice regaining its edge. "but i might tolerate your presence a bit longer."
— yuta okkotsu
yuta's eyes widened, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink almost immediately. he seemed caught off guard by your question, his book slowly slipping from his grasp as he tried to process your words.
"a-a kiss?" he stammered, his voice shaky. "you mean… like… a real kiss?"
you couldn't help but chuckle softly at his flustered reaction. "yes, a kiss," you spoke, watching as his blush deepened.
his mind seemed to be racing, a mix of confusion and excitement flashing in his eyes. "i… well… um… sure?" he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.
he looked down, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, clearly trying to gather his composure.
you held out the small hershey's kiss, the silver foil catching the fading sunlight. "i meant this kiss," you said softly, a knowing smile on your face (yuta was always very easy to read).
yuta stared at the chocolate in your hand, his blush was still prominent but now mixed with a look of realization and slight embarrassment. "oh," he breathed out, his shoulders relaxing a bit. he let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "o-oh! yeah, totally—a chocolate kiss."
you handed him the chocolate, watching as he took it from you with a shy smile. "yeah, a chocolate kiss," you confirmed, your voice gentle.
as yuta unwrapped the chocolate, he glanced up at you with a sheepish grin. "i thought you meant the other kiss," he admitted, popping the treat into his mouth.
after a while, yuta turned to you, his blush returning slightly. "do you think you can give me another kiss?"
your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt your own cheeks warming. "you mean like the physical kiss? not the chocolate" you replied softly, already knowing the answer. he nodded, feeling a little nervous. "yeah. i mean… if you feel like it. no pressure of course!!"
you smiled, laughing softly. "i'll keep that in mind," you said gently. "you're too sweet."
yuta's smile widened, his eyes shining with happiness. "you're the one that's sweet here," he replied, his voice soft and filled with warmth.
rika is fuming right now
Tumblr media
a/n: divider credits @/v6que // my first-ish post for jjk ^-^ if there are any pronouns other than GN please tell me, either in messages or on this post! thank you for reading 💕
4K notes · View notes
cleolinda · 4 months ago
Text
Phone scam gothic
So my mom sits down and starts telling me about two weird-ass phone calls she had today—she was returning a missed call, and the woman who answered just… sobbed for a minute. I’m sitting here asking, like, a whole minute? Nothing else, just sobbing? Who did you THINK you were calling back?
“United Healthcare, they have my Medicare plan. They’ve been calling me for weeks without leaving any voicemail.”
(Are you sure it was United Healthcare? “It was the same number that’s on my card, I checked, and that’s who the caller ID said it was.”)
Are you sure it was a whole minute? Did YOU say anything?
“Yes, like sixty seconds while I kept going ‘Hello? Hello?’ It sounded like she was having a nervous breakdown, I kept waiting to see if she’d tell me what was even wrong. Finally I just hung up.”
And then my mom turned right around and called back again, because she was gonna get to the bottom of this.
This time she got a different woman, perfectly calm, who wanted to set up “your in-home direct patient care home health visit.”
At this point (at this point?) I’m staring, because no one here currently has anyone coming to the house to help with any kind of medical care. My mom might honestly be the healthiest member of the household, but even I don’t use any home services, herniated discs and all. “Did they have you… confused with someone else?”
“No, she repeated my full name and phone number back to me.”
This lady then started ARGUING with my mother. Why don’t you want us to come to your house to manage your direct patient care? Don’t you need home health care to be managed? Why don’t you need home health care? Why would you not want home health care? “I JUST KIND OF HAVE HIGH CHOLESTEROL?” But don’t you want us to manage your home health care? “WHY DO YOU NEED TO COME TO MY HOUSE TO MANAGE HEALTH CARE I DON’T USE?”
My mom finally hung up on this lady as well, without giving her any real information.
The more we talked about it, the more things we started to notice:
I was incredibly creeped out by the unsolicited use of the word “manage,” for some reason. Very sinister “write me into your will” vibes for some reason—I don’t know what these people want, but they’re gonna get you to sign something over.
My mom got especially stuck on “WHY DO YOU NEED TO COME TO MY HOUSE?!”
My mom has used home health services before… years ago, before she was on Medicare. But this company wouldn’t know about that. However, if you’re on Medicare, you’re over 65. Having not ever dealt with my mother before, someone calling a Medicare user might be playing the odds that a person over 65 is 1) in frail health and 2) old enough to get easily confused.
Fair play to my mom, she’s the one who thought of number spoofing. I’m so busy not answering the phone ever and arranging all my medical communications to happen through passworded portals that I didn’t think of it.
Hey, are you guys, like… holding someone hostage…?
So at this point, I google “United Healthcare scam.”
The “health insurance counselor”
This fraudster will offer help navigating the health insurance marketplace for a fee, capitalizing on people’s confusion about the state-based health exchanges created through the Affordable Care Act.
What to know
This sort of assistance is indeed available and is legitimate, but the people who offer it – also known as “navigators” – aren’t allowed to charge for their services. Also, remember that people with Medicare coverage don’t need to use the state health exchanges. The exchanges are for people under the age of 65, who are looking to enroll in an individual health plan.
Change “navigate” to “manage,” and I think this is it, although the lady on the phone never mentioned any fees. Either my mom didn’t let her get that far, or this is the point of actually getting into someone’s house: persuading them face-to-face to pay something, and potentially refusing to leave until the scammer has worn their target down.
Medicare does not make unsolicited phone calls.
Okay, so it was a scam no matter what it was about. As far as I’m concerned, my mom should contact Actual United Healthcare about it, and I’m here to spread the good word of Never Believing Anyone on the Phone 2k24. I don’t know what to tell you about the lady having the nervous breakdown though.
1K notes · View notes
nightprompts · 2 years ago
Text
&. 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬.
( this is basically just a very self indulgent list of various fluff, angst, and suggestive themed dialogue sentence starters. )
❛ i could keep you safe. they’re all afraid of me. ❜
❛ i’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still. ❜
❛ your heart is beating so fast right now. ❜
❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜
❛ you’re not as bad as everyone says you are. ❜
❛ i thought you’d like some company. ❜ 
❛ clean yourself up. you're getting blood all over the place. ❜
❛ here, give this a try and tell me what you think. ❜
❛ you can kiss me, you know. ❜
❛ come back to bed. ❜
❛ you look good like this. ❜
❛ working together again, it’s just like old times. ❜
❛ how is it you always know what i need, huh? ❜
❛ you’re lucky you got away with only a scratch. ❜ 
❛ i can’t imagine losing someone like that. i’m sorry. ❜
❛ you know you can always talk to me. ❜
❛ the only one who gets to kill you, is me. ❜
❛ so, what do i owe this pleasure? ❜
❛ ah, so you aren’t heartless after all. ❜
❛ may i have this dance? ❜ 
❛ it’s okay, you can touch me. i won't break. ❜
❛ enemies make the best lovers, you know. ❜
❛ hold still. this might sting a little. ❜
❛ we can't keep doing this. ❜ 
❛ you look like you've got something to say. ❜
❛ just relax and let me take care of you. ❜
❛ thought you’d be lighter without all that blood. ❜
❛ i had it under control. you didn’t need to do that. ❜
❛ everything looks so beautiful from up here. ❜
❛ you treat all your ladies like this? ❜
❛ well? how do i look? ❜
❛ can’t sleep? ❜
❛ do you mind if i smoke? ❜
❛ i’m scared of ending up alone. ❜
❛ i don’t think i’ve ever seen you smile. ❜
❛ how long has it been since you've slept? ❜
❛ you are losing my interest, and that’s very dangerous. ❜
❛ i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight. ❜
❛ you look really pretty right now. ❜
❛ i’ve never cared for anyone the way i care for you. ❜
❛ i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know. ❜
❛ just a few more stitches and you’ll be as good as new. ❜
❛ i’d say we make a pretty good team. ❜
❛ i want you to forget this ever happened. ❜
❛ i'm here for business — not pleasure. ❜
❛ if i didn't know any better, i'd say you were jealous. ❜
❛ you'd look better down on your knees. ❜
❛ fine, keep acting like you hate me. ❜
❛ kiss me again. ❜
❛ are you asking me out on a date? ❜
❛ just sit there and look pretty and let me handle this. ❜
❛ you okay? caught you staring off into space again. ❜
❛ well, i do feel better now that you're here. ❜
❛ i'm not drunk enough for this. ❜ 
❛ why is it whenever we see each other, you’re covered in blood? ❜
❛ i was wrong about you. ❜ 
❛ the first time i met you, i had no idea you'd mean this much. ❜
❛ you gonna be a good girl / boy for me? ❜
❛ i’m not afraid of you. ❜
❛ books mean more to me than people anyway. ❜
❛ i just wanted to say thank you for protecting me. ❜
❛ how about a kiss goodnight? ❜
❛ i don’t have time for distractions right now. ❜
❛ you shouldn’t be out here by yourself. ❜ 
❛ if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode. ❜
16K notes · View notes
sadnymi · 6 months ago
Text
Mastermind
[Mattheo riddle x reader]
Summary: Lady Whistledown and Gossip Girl [ Hogwarts Version] had taken the school by storm. Every week, spoken letters delivered the latest rumors, and things were getting out of control. Y/N had finally had enough, especially when the latest gossip claimed she was dating Mattheo Riddle. Frustrated and determined to put an end to it, she went to Mattheo, asking for his help in uncovering the person behind the relentless rumors and stopping them once and for all.
Words: 15k
Warnings : fluff, smut smut smut don’t read in public you have been warning , biker boy mattheo [yes a warning] , a little angst, fluff .
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨
**The Daily Whisperer: Hogwarts Edition**
_Issue #47: The Gossip of the Week_
Hogwarts is buzzing with the latest speculation surrounding two of our most enigmatic students. You guessed it—Y/N Y/L/N and Mattheo Riddle.
Rumor has it that sparks are flying between these two, and if they aren't already an item, then Merlin’s beard, they definitely should be! A sighting in the library, some lingering glances in Potions class, and let’s not forget that mysterious detention they both just _happened_ to land in last week. Could this be the beginning of a legendary Hogwarts love story? But that's not all! This week’s flying letters brought us another sizzling scoop: Y/N was seen practicing dueling spells with Mattheo, and let's just say, the sparks were flying—literally. Could this be a sign of something more than just friendly competition? Stay tuned, dear readers. We’re on the case!
In other news, Y/N has been making waves not just in the rumor mill but in the academic arena as well. This ( whatever house you’re in, darling Y/N!) has been impressing professors and students alike with her spellwork and potions prowess. Is there anything she can't do? We'll keep you posted on her latest achievements and, of course, any further developments in her relationship status with a certain handsome Slytherin.
Until next time, keep your wands at the ready and your ears to the ground!
────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────
I could feel the heat of a hundred eyes on me as I stormed through the hallways, clutching the latest edition of "Hogwarts Whispers" in my hand. My anger was palpable, a tangible force pushing people aside as they gawked at me. As I turned a corner, a group of Hufflepuffs quickly scattered, clearly not wanting to be on the receiving end of my wrath. My anger flared hotter. Who had the nerve to spread such nonsense? And why did it have to be always about _me_?
Finally, I spotted him. Mattheo Riddle stood by the entrance to the Great Hall, casually leaning against the wall like he didn’t have a care in the world, his dark hair falling effortlessly into place as he exchanged easy banter with his friends. Typical.
I marched up to him, my footsteps echoing off the stone walls. His friends wisely took a step back as I approached, but he merely glanced over at me with that infuriating smirk of his, clearly amused by my arrival.
“Riddle,” I said, my voice clipped.
“Y/L/N,” he replied, raising an eyebrow in a way that made it impossible to tell if he was mocking me or just genuinely interested.
“We need to talk.”
His smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “We need to talk?”
I huffed in frustration. “You didn’t read what that freak wrote today?”
“No,” he said slowly, his eyes scanning my face for any clue. “But does that have anything to do with why people are looking at us like we are about to say our vows?”
Resisted the urge to roll my eyes, instead grabbing his hand and pulling him down the hallway. “Come on.”
He chuckled under his breath, clearly enjoying the situation more than he should. But I didn’t care. I wasn’t about to have this conversation in front of the entire school. The last thing I needed was to give those gossipy little owls more fuel for their fire.
I could feel his gaze on me as we walked, his hand warm in mine, and for a brief, fleeting moment, I wondered if there was any truth to what they’d written.
But I shoved that thought aside as we reached a secluded corner. I had a bone to pick with him, and I wasn’t about to let a few stray butterflies distract me.
“What are we going to do about this?” I demanded as soon as we were out of earshot of anyone else.
He just grinned, clearly unfazed. “What do you mean, Y/N? Sounds like we’re the hottest topic in school.”
My glare deepened. “This isn’t funny, Mattheo.”
“Maybe not.”
“This is absolute bullshit!” I fumed, waving the gossip letter around like it was cursed. “Why would anyone write this? Why is it always about me? Every. Single. Week!”
Mattheo leaned casually against the wall, his arms crossed, watching me with that maddening smile on his face. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned, which only fueled my irritation further.
“And then they say I’m dating you?” I threw the letter on a desk, feeling my pulse racing. “Are they insane? Where do they even get this stuff?”
He chuckled, that deep, velvety sound that always seemed to get under my skin. “I’m trying so hard not to take that personally, princess.”
I shot him a glare. “Shut up, Riddle.”
But he didn’t stop smiling, just kept leaning against the wall, looking at me like he was thoroughly enjoying the show. My frustration bubbled over. “Why are you so calm about this? This is serious! People are staring at us in the hallways! It’s like they’ve all got nothing better to do than imagine some ridiculous romance between us.”
“Well,” he drawled, pushing off the wall and taking a few steps toward me, “can you blame them? You’re not exactly easy to ignore, Y/N.”
I rolled my eyes, exasperated. “This isn’t funny. We need to find out who’s behind this, and you’re going to help me.”
Mattheo pushed himself off the wall, taking a step closer to me. "You want me to help you track down the identity of…" he paused, a playful glint in his eyes, "Madam Matchmaker?"
"Yes," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Would you do that?"
He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I would never say no to my girlfriend."
"Shut up, Riddle." I stared at him, my heart skipping a beat despite the anger still boiling inside me. "I’m not your girlfriend," I insisted, my voice lacking the conviction I’d hoped for.
He raised an eyebrow, his expression smug. "That’s not what the whole school is saying."
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t ignore the way his words sent a shiver down my spine. "Shut up, Riddle."
"Don't you see how ridiculous this is?" I asked, exasperated.
He tilted his head, still not breaking eye contact. "Oh, I see it, alright. But I've got to admit, I don't mind being linked to you, Y/N. It gives me an excuse to spend more time with you."
"Shut up, Riddle."
He laughed, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "You know, if you keep telling me to shut up, I might just have to find another way to occupy my mouth."
"You… you’re —-!"
"And yet, here you are, asking me for help. You must like something about me, Y/N."
I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. "I like the idea of you doing something useful for once. Now, are you going to help me or not?"
He straightened up, still smiling but with a more serious glint in his eyes. "Of course I’ll help you. But you owe me one."
"Fine," I grumbled, though I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth.
The next day, I stormed into the Great Hall, clutching a rolled-up piece of parchment in my hand. I barely noticed the whispers that trailed behind me as I made a beeline for the Slytherin table, my eyes locking onto Mattheo, who was lounging back in his seat, looking completely unbothered by the chaos swirling around us.
I slammed the parchment down in front of him, making a few Slytherins glance over in curiosity.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“It’s a list,” I said, taking a seat across from him and ignoring the way his friends were watching us with interest. “A list of suspects. I’ve narrowed it down to a few possibilities, and we need to figure out who’s responsible.”
Mattheo’s eyes flicked to the parchment, then back to me, clearly intrigued. “Go on.”
I pointed to the first name on the list. “First, there’s Carla knight. She’s always had it out for me ever since that incident in Potions last year. You know, she’s been looking for a way to get back at me ever since, she’s petty enough to spread rumors, and she’s got the connections to get them published.”
“True,” Mattheo mused, leaning back in his chair. “But Carla’s too obvious, don’t you think? She’s not exactly subtle.”
“Maybe,” I conceded, moving on to the next name. “Then there’s John Gary. He’s always been the quiet type, but that just makes him more dangerous. He’s close to the source, and he’s smart enough to cover his tracks.”
Mattheo nodded, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Interesting."
"What about Lavender Brown? She’s always gossiping, and she’s got this diary she carries around everywhere. What if she’s the one writing this stuff down and sending it off to ‘Hogwarts Whispers’?"
"Lavender’s a possibility," Mattheo admitted, his eyes flicking back up to meet mine. "But she’s more into writing about her own love life than anyone else’s. I doubt she’d be focused enough to keep tabs on us."
I grumbled under my breath and tapped my quill against the parchment, staring at the remaining names. "Then who could it be? I’ve gone through almost everyone who’s likely to be involved in this kind of thing, and none of them make sense!"
Mattheo didn’t respond immediately, and I looked up to find him just staring at me, a small, almost secretive smile on his lips.
"What the hell are you doing? Were you even listening?" I demanded, feeling my frustration rise again.
His eyes flicked over my face, lingering on my lips for a moment before he finally spoke. "Oh, I was listening, princess. It’s just hard to focus when you’re looking so damn determined. It’s… distracting."
My heart did a little flip, but I shoved that feeling down and crossed my arms. "This is serious, Riddle. Someone is spreading lies about us, and you’re just sitting here, smirking like it’s all a joke."
He chuckled softly, his eyes still locked on mine. "I’m not laughing at you. I’m just appreciating how hard you’re trying to solve this little mystery. It’s kind of… sexy."
I felt my face heat up, but I wasn’t about to let him derail me. "Stop with the compliments, Mattheo. This is important."
"Sure."
"Shut up, Riddle. I’m serious."
"So am I," he said smoothly, leaning back in his seat, his gaze still locked on mine. "But if you want to focus on this little mystery instead of the much more interesting topic of us, then go ahead."
I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the way his voice sent a shiver down my spine. "Fine. If you’re not going to help, then at least don’t make this harder than it already is."
Mattheo’s smirk grew as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "You know, Y/N, there are easier ways to spend time with me than concocting elaborate schemes to solve a mystery that might not even have a culprit."
I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. "What are you talking about?"
He shrugged casually, his eyes never leaving mine. "Maybe someone’s just trying to push us together, and it’s working. Ever thought about that?"
"Shut up, Riddle," I snapped, though my voice lacked its usual bite.
He chuckled, his gaze never leaving mine. "Only if you make me."
I reached out to smack his arm. "Stop acting like that. This is serious!"
In a flash, Mattheo’s hand shot out, catching my wrist with a firm but gentle grip. His smile was both mischievous and reassuring as he looked at me. "Alright, but only because you’re so charming when you’re worked up."
I pulled my wrist free, trying to hide the flush creeping up my cheeks. "Just—stop distracting me. I need to figure out who’s behind this before it gets any worse."
Mattheo leaned back, still watching me with that unnerving mixture of amusement and interest. "Indeed, lead the way. I’m all ears."
For the rest of the week, I was on a mission. Every day, I dragged Mattheo around the school, from the library to the common rooms, and even to the less frequented corners of the castle. Despite his usual nonchalance, Mattheo followed along without question, his only response being that knowing smile he always seemed to have when he was around me.
We spent hours poring over potential suspects, analyzing their motives, and investigating their whereabouts. Each time I got frustrated or hit a dead end, Mattheo would patiently listen, never interrupting, and only offering occasional comments that were either strangely insightful or just plain distracting.
As we walked through the dimly lit corridors of the castle, I finally vented my frustrations. "This is ridiculous. I’ve talked to nearly everyone I can think of, and no one seems to know anything. It’s like we’re running in circles."
Mattheo’s hand brushed against mine as he walked beside me, and I could feel the warmth of his touch even through our robes. "Maybe you’re looking too hard. Sometimes, the answer isn’t in what people say but in what they don’t."
I sighed, feeling the weight of the week’s frustration pressing down on me. "I just don’t get it. Why would someone target me like this?"
He glanced at me, his expression softening. "Maybe they’re trying to get a reaction out of you."
His words, though comforting, did little to ease my worries. I shook my head and kept walking, the silence between us stretching as we turned another corner. "I don’t know how you manage to stay so calm about all this. I’m losing my mind trying to figure this out."
"You’re doing great."
"Thanks, Mattheo."
He flashed me a reassuring smile. "Anytime. Besides, it’s been… interesting, spending all this time with you. I’d say it’s been the highlight of my week."
I raised an eyebrow, giving him a wry smile. "Oh, is that so? I’m glad to be your highlight, Riddle."
He grinned, his usual mischievous glint in his eye. "You should be. And if you ever need me to be a distraction! again, just let me know."
" I hope not."
As we turned another corner in the castle, Mattheo suddenly stopped, his expression shifting from his usual playful smirk to something more serious. "Go on a date with me."
I froze, staring at him in disbelief. "What?"
"You heard me," he said, leaning against the wall with that infuriatingly confident look on his face. "Let’s go on a date."
I blinked, trying to process his words. "Why would I—what are you even talking about? We’re supposed to be figuring out who’s spreading these rumors, not giving them more fuel for the fire!"
"Exactly," he replied smoothly, crossing his arms over his chest. "If we go on a date, we can see who’s watching us, who’s interested in what we’re doing. It’ll flush out the culprit. And with the weekend coming up, whoever’s behind this will be desperate for more gossip to spread. We’ll be able to figure it out, Y/N."
I shook my head, utterly incredulous. "Absolutely not. I’m not going on a date with you."
"Why not?" he asked, his smirk returning as he stepped closer, his presence as magnetic as ever. "It’s the perfect plan. We’ll be able to spot who’s paying too much attention to us."
"Because," I stammered, feeling my heart race as he closed the distance between us, "it’s ridiculous! You’re just trying to mess with me. I know you, Mattheo. You don’t actually care about solving this, you just want to—"
"Want to what?" he interrupted, his voice low and teasing. "Think about it, Y/N. We go out, see who’s watching, think of it as an experiment. A way to gather evidences. You like evidence, don’t you?"
"I’m not going on a date with you. I refuse to give these gossips exactly what they want. I’m not some pawn in their game, and I’m certainly not going to parade around with you just to see who’s got their eyes on us."
He just kept smiling, his eyes locked onto mine with that infuriatingly calm, knowing look. "You keep telling yourself that, but deep down, you know it’s the best way to figure this out."
"No," I insisted, my voice rising slightly. "There’s no way I’m doing it. This is absurd, and I’m not falling for it. You’re just trying to—"
"Trying to what?" he echoed, taking another step closer until I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin.
I glared at him, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened. "Shut up, Riddle."
He didn’t move, his smirk widening as his gaze held mine. "You tell me to shut up again, and I will kiss the fuck out of you, princess."
I froze, my breath catching in my throat. "What?"
"You heard me," he said, his voice smooth and deliberate, his eyes never leaving mine. "That’s the deal. You say it again, and I won’t hold back."
My face felt like it was on fire, and I could barely form a coherent thought as his words sank in. "You—you’re insane."
"Maybe," he replied, his voice low and full of intent. "But I always get what I want. And right now, what I want is to figure this out—with you."
I swallowed hard, my heart racing as I tried to gather my thoughts. "This is ridiculous."
"Is it?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, his gaze still locked onto mine. "Or is it just that you’re afraid you might actually enjoy it?"
I stared at him, my mind spinning as I tried to come up with a response. But the truth was, I was too flustered to think straight. His confidence, his intensity—it was overwhelming.
"This is stupid," I muttered, trying to muster up some semblance of defiance.
"That’s not a ‘no’."
I glared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "But this is strictly for the sake of finding out who’s behind the rumors."
Mattheo’s grin widened. "Of course, princess. Strictly business."
I crossed my arms, trying to keep a lid on the flurry of emotions swirling inside me. "You have to behave, Riddle. No funny business, no flirting. Just… business."
"I’ll be on my best behavior."
I raised an eyebrow, trying to gauge if he was being sincere or just playing me. "Somehow, I doubt that."
He chuckled, leaning in slightly saying in a mocking tone. "Your doubt wounds me, Y/N. My favorite thing to do is to be a good boy for you."
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at my lips. "Sure, whatever you say."
"So," he continued, ignoring my skepticism, "tomorrow, then?"
I hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, tomorrow."
Mattheo’s gaze softened, though his smirk remained firmly in place. "Don’t be nervous. And try not to think about me too much tonight."
I scoffed, giving him a withering look. "In your dreams, Riddle."
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, husky murmur. "Oh, believe me, darling. You’re in my dreams every night. But we’re not just talking in them."
My face burned as I smacked his arm again, harder this time. "I’m going to just kill you someday and stop the rumors you’re insufferable, you know that?"
He just laughed, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "And yet, you keep coming back for more."
"I don’t have a choice," I shot back, starting to walk toward my dormitory with him following close behind.
"Ah, but you do," he said smoothly, keeping pace with me. "And you’re choosing to be here with me. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?"
I ignored him, focusing on the corridor ahead, even as I felt his gaze lingering on me.
We walked in silence for a moment before he spoke again, his voice soft and teasing. "You know, tomorrow’s going to be fun. You’ll see."
I rolled my eyes, still facing forward. "If by ‘fun’ you mean torturous, then sure."
Mattheo’s laughter echoed through the corridor, warm and rich. "Torturous for you, maybe. But for me? It’ll be heaven."
I stopped in front of my dormitory, turning to face him. "This is where we part ways."
He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief. "For now. But you know, you can always invite me in if you’re feeling lonely."
Pushing him away lightly I said. "Not a chance, Riddle."
He grinned, completely unfazed. "Worth a shot."
I gave him a look, and for once, he seemed to back down. "Alright, alright. Sleep well, Y/N. And try not to think too much about tomorrow. Or about me."
I slammed the door shut in his face, cutting off his words, but I could still hear his low chuckle from the other side. Then I leaned against the door, trying to steady my racing heart.
I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’ve been on plenty of dates before, so why does this one feel different? I’ve had Quidditch players asking me out, and even the prince of Eldoria once tried his luck, but none of that made me feel as nervous as I am right now. And this isn’t even a real date. It’s just a… mission, right?
I stared at the mess of clothes strewn across my room, feeling utterly lost. Is this too much? Will I be overdressed if I wear it? Or is this too casual? And I can’t stop thinking about him—nope, we won’t do that. We won’t think about him or what he’s going to wear. Or not wear. No, absolutely not. We are not thinking about him without clothes. That can’t happen. I can’t stand Mattheo, right?
But why? Why can’t I stand him? I can’t remember anymore. Maybe it’s because he makes me feel so damn nervous? And I hate that. I hate losing control. I love having control over everything, and Merlin knows he wasn’t helping with that. It’s like every cell in my body is screaming, and I mean every single one.
I finally settled on a small black dress, letting my hair fall naturally around my shoulders. I added a touch of makeup and a simple necklace, convincing myself that I was doing this for me. It’s a good chance to get dressed up and look good—to myself, right? I always do. I’m a fashion icon, and I always dress well. Not for any certain someone with beautiful eyes and hair and a body that—nope, stop it, Y/N. We’re not going there.
I took a deep breath and walked out of my dorm, only to find Mattheo standing just outside my door, hand raised as if he was about to knock. He was dressed all in black, and oh, Merlin, that shirt was doing things to me.
His eyes slowly raking up and down my body. He wasn’t even trying to hide that he was looking, and when his gaze finally reached my face, it lingered on my lips before meeting my eyes.
"Matching," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.
I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach. "You always wear black or gray, It’s hardly a coincidence Mattheo."
His smirk widened as he took a step closer. "Oh, baby, so you were trying to match with me?"
"What? Of course not!" I shot back, but my voice sounded less convincing than I would’ve liked. He laughed, clearly enjoying my discomfort.
I glared at him, crossing my arms. "If you don’t stop, I’m going back inside and forgetting about this so-called date,"
He raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. "Okay, okay, I’m sorry. You look stunning, Y/N. Absolutely breathtaking. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to focus on anything but you tonight."
I rolled my eyes again, though I could feel my cheeks heating up. "You’re so insufferable."
"And you’re so beautiful," he replied smoothly, taking my hand in his. "Now come on. Let’s get out of here."
I allowed him to lead me out of the castle, my heart pounding harder with every step. "Where are we going?"
"You’ll see," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice. "I promise it’s something you’ll like."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "If you’re up to something, Riddle, I swear—"
"Oh, I’m definitely up to something," he replied, his voice dropping to a low murmur as he glanced over at me, his eyes darkening slightly. "But I think you’ll enjoy it. Maybe even more than you expect."
My breath caught in my throat, and I tried to keep my voice steady. "You’re not fooling anyone, you know."
"Who said I was trying to fool you?" he shot back, his grip on my hand tightening slightly.
I tried to ignore the way his words made my pulse quicken. "You’re being annoyingly cryptic, you know that?"
"It’s part of my charm," he replied , his thumb brushing lightly over the back of my hand. "And besides, it’s worth the suspense, don’t you think?"
I looked at him, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "I think you’re enjoying this far too much."
He chuckled, his eyes darkening with a mischievous glint. "Oh, I am. But don’t pretend you aren’t, too."
As Mattheo led me down the dimly lit corridor, I couldn't help but notice the way his thumb was now tracing small circles on the back of my hand. The warmth of his touch sent shivers up my spine, and I fought to keep my thoughts from spiraling out of control.
My breath hitched slightly, but I forced myself to stay calm. "You’re really pushing it, Riddle."
"And you love it," he shot back, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear.
I pushed him away pretending to be annoyed it’s actually better to show him that I was so turned on. "Let’s just get this over with."
“Where are we going?” I asked, trying to inject some firmness into my voice, though it came out softer than I intended.
Mattheo glanced at me, a slow, almost predatory smile spreading across his lips. “Patience, darling."
I opened my mouth to retort, but the words got caught in my throat. The cool night air hit me like a wave, but it did little to quell the heat burning inside me.
“You look like you’re trying really hard not to think about what I’m going to do to you tonight,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.
I froze, my heart skipping a beat. “What… what are you talking about?”
He chuckled softly, pulling me closer until our bodies were nearly touching. “Oh, come on, Y/N. Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it. About what it would feel like.”
My breath hitched, and I couldn’t stop the rush of heat that flooded my body at his words. This wasn’t happening. I wasn’t letting him get to me like this. But when he stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on my hip, I could barely think straight.
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered, though it was clear even to me that I was lying.
“Liar,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “You’ve been thinking about it. And the best part? So have I.”
I blinked up at him, trying to form a coherent response when he suddenly smirked and pointed behind me. “Relax, darling. I was talking about the ride I’m going to give you tonight.”
I followed his gaze and saw a sleek black motorcycle parked nearby. “Wait… what?” I breathed out, my heart still racing.
His smirk deepened, and he raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “What were _you_ thinking about?”
“Nothing!” I shot back, far too quickly.
“Uh-huh,” he said, clearly not buying it. He started walking toward the bike, and I followed, my steps hesitant.
“What the hell is that?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at the motorcycle as if it had personally offended me.
He looked at me with exaggerated innocence. “This? It’s a bike. You know, that thing with two wheels that goes vroom?”
I glared at him, my patience wearing thin. “I know exactly what it is. I’m asking why you’re near it.”
He leaned against the bike, looking far too smug for his own good."Because we’re taking it for a ride, obviously."
“Mattheo, you didn’t… Where did you even get this from?” I asked, crossing my arms.
He grinned mischievously. “Stole it.”
My eyes widened, and I took a step back, ready to bolt. But then he laughed, shaking his head. “Kidding, darling. Just get on.”
I stared at him for a moment, debating whether I should turn around and walk back inside. But something about the way he was looking at me—challenging, teasing—made me pause. I cursed under my breath and reluctantly walked over to the bike.
As I approached, I couldn’t help but curse myself for wearing a dress. Of all nights, why did I choose tonight to be impractical? I awkwardly tried to swing my leg over the bike, careful not to flash him.
“Need some help there?”
“I’ve got it,” I snapped, finally managing to get on the bike without embarrassing myself too much.
He turned to face me, and suddenly, he was so close I could feel his breath on my face. His hands reached up, and he gently placed a helmet on my head, securing the strap under my chin. The simple act was far more intimate than it had any right to be, and I found myself holding my breath.
“You might want to hold on to me,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with suggestion.
I hesitated for a second, then wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath my hands. “If you crash this thing, I’m killing you,” I muttered against his back.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through me. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ve got you.”
he started the bike, the engine roaring to life beneath us. I tightened my grip on him as we took off, the wind whipping through my hair. The cool night air rushed past us, but all I could focus on was the heat radiating from Mattheo’s body, the way his muscles tensed and flexed as he maneuvered the bike through the darkened streets.
“Enjoying yourself back there?” he called over the sound of the wind.
I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “Just keep your eyes on the road, Riddle.”
He laughed again, but there was a dark edge to it that sent a shiver down my spine. “Oh, I am. But I can’t help but think about how good you feel pressed up against me.”
My cheeks burned, and I was grateful he couldn’t see my face. “Shut up, Mattheo.”
" careful baby remember our deal?"
“Mattheo—”
“ Yes,princess?"
" don’t open your mouth please."
He laughed " Why? You don’t like it when I talk about how your hands feel on me? Or how I can feel every little movement you make?”
“No—”
“Or maybe it’s the way you’re clinging to me right now,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, more seductive. “Like you can’t get close enough. Like you don’t want this ride to end.”
I bit my lip, trying to ignore the way his words were making my heart race even faster. He was doing this on purpose, and damn him, it was working.
“Don’t get too full of yourself,” I shot back, but my voice lacked the bite I intended.
He slowed the bike down slightly, and I felt him lean back just enough to speak directly into my ear. “Too late for that, darling. You’re driving me crazy.”
My breath caught, and I tightened my grip on him, unsure if it was to steady myself or if it was because part of me wanted him to pull over.
“Mattheo…” I warned, but my voice was weak, trembling.
He chuckled, the sound dark and promising. “Relax."
Every time he took a sharp turn or sped up, my grip on him tightened, and he would laugh softly, his voice full of that infuriating confidence. “You sure you’re not nervous?”
“I’m sure,” I replied, though my heart was racing for more reasons than just the speed of the bike.
“Good.”
As Mattheo slowed the bike to a stop, I looked around and felt a jolt of unease settle in my stomach. The area was dimly lit, with groups of people loitering around, looking like trouble. The girls wore little more than scraps of fabric, their heavy makeup making their eyes look like dark smudges in the faint light. The guys weren’t any better—tough, dangerous, and clearly up to no good.
I turned to Mattheo, my voice tinged with irritation and confusion. “What the hell, Mattheo?”
He smirked, swinging his leg off the bike. “What? I thought you’d appreciate something different from the fancy dates you’re used to. Oh, remind me again, where did Prince Edward take you to?”
“He didn’t,” I snapped back, dismounting the bike as gracefully as possible while trying to keep my dress in place. “Because I turned the date down.”
Mattheo’s grin widened, a mocking edge to it. “How bad for him.”
I rolled my eyes, glancing around nervously. “There’s no one from school here, right? I mean, how is the gossip mill going to work if they don’t notice us?”
He leaned against the bike, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, they won’t.”
“Excuse me?” I shot back, incredulous.
He laughed, shaking his head. “They’ll be more likely to be notice here than some fancy place, don’t you think?”
I frowned but nodded reluctantly. “Probably, yeah. Any normal person would feel so out of place here.”
I was about to step off the bike when I felt his hands suddenly on my hips, his grip firm. “No, not like that, princess.”
“What?” I managed to say, my voice coming out in a breathless whisper as he effortlessly swung off the bike first. Then, without warning, he placed his hands on my waist again and lifted me off the bike as if I weighed nothing.
“I wouldn’t want anyone to get a look at the show I had a minutes ago,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine.
My face flushed crimson, and I struggled to maintain my composure as his hands stayed on my waist, guiding me toward the entrance. His touch was possessive, almost claiming, and I couldn’t help the thrill that shot through me despite the chaotic surroundings.
“So, do I need to keep my wand close?” I asked, half-joking, half-serious as we neared the group.
Mattheo chuckled, his breath warm against my ear. “You really think I’d let anything happen to you?”
As we walked through the crowd, people began to notice Mattheo, their eyes lighting up with recognition. A couple of guys came over, greeting him with casual nods and low murmurs.
“Riddle! Didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” one of them said, a tall guy with a crooked grin.
Another guy came up, clapping Mattheo on the back. “Good to see you, mate. Thought you’d ditched us for good.”
“Nah,” Mattheo replied casually. “Just been busy.”
“Yeah, thought you were too good for us these days,” another chimed in, smirking.
Mattheo just shrugged, his grip on my waist tightening slightly. “Can’t forget where I came from.”
Before I could process what that meant, a girl suddenly appeared, practically throwing herself at Mattheo. She had wild, dark hair and wore a top that could barely be called clothing. “Matty! I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” she purred, her hands already trailing over his chest. Then, she noticed me, her eyes narrowing as she looked me up and down, clearly sizing me up.
I met her gaze, lifting my chin defiantly as I looked her over. She was all beautiful and confidence, but something about her screamed desperate. I couldn’t help the surge of jealousy that flared in my chest. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I snapped, crossing my arms.
The girl’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly recovered, her lips curling into a sneer. “Who’s this?” she asked Mattheo, her tone dripping with disdain.
Mattheo’s hand slid around my waist, pulling me closer to him. “She’s My girl,” he said simply, his voice cool and dismissive.
The girl’s eyes narrowed further as she gave me another once-over. I met her gaze head-on, refusing to back down. “Got a problem with that?” I asked, my tone sweet but laced with a clear challenge.
The girl hesitated for a moment, then forced a laugh, trying to play it off. “No, of course not,” she said, but her eyes were still cold. She turned back to Mattheo, trying to regain his attention. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”
“Well, now you know,” I said firmly, stepping closer to Mattheo as if staking my claim.
She shot me one last glare before reluctantly backing off, clearly realizing she wasn’t going to win this one. I watched her go, feeling oddly victorious, even as my heart pounded in my chest.
Mattheo’s low chuckle drew my attention back to him, and I looked up to find him watching me with an amused glint in his eyes. “Jealous, are we?”
“Absolutely not,” I retorted, though my face was still flushed.
“Right,” he drawled, clearly not believing me.
Mattheo guided me through the throngs of people, his hand never leaving my waist as we made our way toward a secluded area. The crowd seemed to part for him, everyone stepping aside as if they knew better than to get in his way. He led me to a corner of the warehouse where a small, dimly lit bar was nestled. The area was quieter, more exclusive, with plush leather couches and a polished wooden bar that gave it an air of importance.
“This is where the VIPs hang out?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as we stepped into the area. It was a stark contrast to the chaos outside—a private sanctuary within the madness.
Mattheo smirked, pulling out a barstool for me before taking a seat himself. “You could say that. Only those who matter get to hang out here.”
I settled onto the stool, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite the flutter of nerves in my stomach. “And I’m guessing you’re one of those people?”
He chuckled, leaning in closer, his gaze locking onto mine. “What do you think, Princess?”
“I think you like making a scene wherever you go,” I shot back, trying to keep my tone light despite the way my heart was racing.
“Maybe,” he admitted, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
The bartender, a grizzled-looking man with a permanent scowl, approached us, his gaze flickering over me before settling on Mattheo.
“Riddle,” the bartender said in greeting, his voice gruff. “Been a while.”
“Hey, Greg,” Mattheo replied, his voice casual. “How’s business?”
Greg grunted, grabbing a glass and starting to mix a drink. “Same old, same old. You finally got yourself a date, eh?”
Mattheo chuckled, his hand still resting on my thigh. “Something like that.”
Greg's eyes flickered over to me again, his expression a mix of curiosity and skepticism. He took in my dress and my slightly flustered demeanor, a wry grin tugging at his mouth. “She's a fancy one, ain't she?” he commented, continuing to mix the drinks.
“Yeah, that’s for sure,” Mattheo agreed, his hand caressing my thigh. “But she’s all mine.”
I suppressed a shiver at the touch, trying to act as nonchalant as possible as I shot Mattheo a glare. He just smirked in response.
"Noted." Greg set our drinks down in front of us, a shot of dark liquor for Mattheo and something orange and frothy for me. “On the house,” he said gruffly, before moving to serve other customers.
"Can you tell me why those people know you? And how the hell are you so well-known like a famous celebrity here?"
Mattheo takes a sip of his drink, a smirk playing on his lips as he contemplates my question. “I wouldn’t say famous, darling. But I’ve spent a lot of time here... Let’s just say I know my way around.”
I raise an eyebrow skeptically. “That’s not a real answer.”
He grins, clearly enjoying my reaction. “Oh, it's a perfectly real answer. You just don't like it.”
"And what about this girl?" I ask, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.
“That’s Layla. She’s part of this crowd… a regular here, I guess you could say.”
“And you… know her well?”
He shrugs, his hand going back to rest on my thigh. “We’ve crossed paths a few times, yeah.”
There’s something in his tone that makes me pause, a flicker of jealousy stirring in my chest.
He takes another sip of his drink, avoiding my gaze for a moment. “You’re full of questions today, aren’t you?”
I scowl at his non-answer. “You’re the one who keeps avoiding them.”
He lets out a soft laugh, his hand tracing lazy circles on my thigh. “I just like seeing you get all worked up, princess.”
“So what’s your definition of crossing paths?” I ask, pressing him further.
He pauses, seeming to consider his words carefully. “Layla and I have... hooked up a few times. Nothing serious, just casual stuff.”
My heart sinks, a mix of jealousy and disappointment flickering inside me. I try to mask it, though, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it bothered me.
“And what about now? Is she still in the picture?”
His hand tightens slightly on my thigh, and I feel him tense for a moment. Then he turns his head slightly, his lips almost brushing mine as he answers, “No, she’s not.”
“Good,” I say, trying to keep my tone light, “because this whole act would be a lot less convincing if you were involved with more than one girl.”
Mattheo chuckles, the sound low and rich, as his fingers tighten their grip on my thigh, sending a jolt of electricity up my spine. “And here I thought you were just in this for the show,” he murmurs, his voice laced with amusement and something darker, more seductive.
“I am,” I say, my voice steady despite the rapid thudding of my heart. “But even in an act, there are rules.”
“Rules, huh?” He leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he speaks, his breath warm against my skin. “And what are those rules, princess?”
I bite my lip, fighting the urge to close the distance between us. I need to stay in control, to remind myself that this is just an act. “Like keeping your hands to yourself,” I whisper, but the words come out more breathless than I intended.
He chuckles again, a dark, knowing sound. “But where’s the fun in that?”
His hand slides further up my thigh, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body. My pulse quickens, and I struggle to maintain my composure.
“We’re supposed to be pretending,” I manage to say, my voice betraying the strain of keeping up the facade.
“Are we?” His lips graze the corner of my mouth, his words a challenge, daring me to keep up the pretense.
I turn my head slightly, our noses nearly touching, my breath mingling with his. “Yes,” I whisper, but it’s clear neither of us believes it anymore.
“So, just an act?” he repeats, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine.
I nod, barely managing to keep my composure. “Just an act,” I reply, though the words feel like a lie.
He tilts his head, his lips dangerously close to mine. “But we might as well convince them, right?” His tone is teasing, but there’s a fire in his eyes that says he’s not playing anymore.
I should pull away, tell him no, remind him that this is all part of the charade. But I can’t. My resolve crumbles as I look into his eyes, the intensity there pulling me in, refusing to let go.
“Right,” I whisper, my voice betraying me.
Before I can take another breath, his mouth was on mine, claiming me with a possessiveness that made my breath hitch. His lips moved against mine, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every second of it. Then, his teeth tugged on my lower lip, and I gasped, giving him the opening he needed.
His tongue slipped inside, tasting and teasing, coaxing mine into a heated dance that left me dizzy. The kiss was all-consuming, each stroke of his tongue demanding a response that I couldn’t help but give. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a declaration, a promise of everything he could make me feel.
Mattheo’s hand slid up my back, pulling me closer until I was practically melting into him. He sucked on my lower lip, pulling it between his teeth before releasing it with a soft, wet pop. The sound sent a shiver down my spine, and I found myself pressing closer, needing more of him, of this.
“Good girl,” he murmured against my lips, the praise like gasoline to the fire already burning inside me. The words sent a rush of warmth straight to my core, and I couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped my throat.
His hands were everywhere—on my hips, my waist, tracing the curve of my spine—as he guided me to straddle his lap. The shift in position made me acutely aware of the hardness pressing against me, a reminder of just how much he wanted this, wanted me.
“Such a good girl for me,” he whispered, his lips trailing down my neck, sucking and biting just enough to leave a mark. His words were a drug, intoxicating and impossible to resist. I could feel the heat pooling low in my belly, a need so intense it was almost painful.
“Mattheo,” I breathed, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer, needing him to take more, to give more.
He groaned, the sound vibrating against my skin as his hands gripped my hips, guiding me to grind against him. The friction was maddening, each roll of my hips sending waves of pleasure through me that made it hard to think, hard to breathe.
“You like that?” he asked, his voice rough, laced with a hunger that made my heart race.
“Yes,” I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders as I rocked against him, desperate for more. His hands moved to my ass, squeezing as he guided my movements, his lips capturing mine again in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was raw, primal, a clash of tongues and teeth that left me trembling in his arms.
“Good girl,” he repeated, his voice thick with desire as his hands slid under my dress, tracing the edges of my panties. “Such a good girl for me.” The praise was almost too much, his mouth was on mine, sending a fresh wave of heat through my body as I arched into him, needing him to do something, anything to relieve the ache between my thighs.
Reality crashed down on me like a cold wave, dousing the fire that had been raging between us. I was kissing Mattheo Riddle—not just kissing him, but grinding against him in a dark, dingy bar, losing control in a way that was so unlike me.
Breathless, I shook my head, my hands still resting on his chest, but I pushed him away just enough to create space between us. “We shouldn’t,” I whispered, my voice trembling with the effort to regain control.
“Why not?” he murmured.
His hands remained on my hips, firm but not forceful, as if he knew I could—and might—pull away at any moment.
“It’s wrong,” I said, though even as the words left my mouth, they felt hollow. Wrong didn’t even begin to cover the tangled mess of emotions inside me.
“It feels so right to me,” he countered, his voice low.
“That’s the problem,” I whispered, my resolve wavering as I felt the heat of his body so close to mine, the pull of his gaze making it almost impossible to think clearly. I was losing myself, losing the control I prided myself on, every time I was near him.
“Mattheo, I want to go,” I said, my voice firmer this time, though the longing in me betrayed how much I wanted to stay, to give in.
He nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes as he stood up, his hand falling away from my thigh. He kept close to me as we made our way out of the bar, his presence a constant, protective shield, yet he didn’t touch me. And damn, I hated that—hated how much I wanted him to touch me, to feel his hands on me again, even as I knew I shouldn’t.
We reached his bike, and he stood between me and the prying eyes of anyone passing by, shielding me as I climbed on. He still didn’t touch me, and it was driving me insane, the absence of his touch making me crave it even more. I hated myself for it, for wanting him so badly that it was all I could think about.
He climbed on the bike in front of me, starting the engine with a low rumble. My hands automatically went to his waist, and as soon as I made contact, it was like an electric current shot through me. My mind was a mess, a chaotic whirl of thoughts and emotions, and my body—oh, my body—was screaming for more, for him.
I clenched my hands tighter around him, trying to focus, trying to breathe, but the tension inside me was unbearable. The battle raging within me, between what I wanted and what I knew was right, was tearing me apart.
“Stop, Mattheo,” I blurted out, my voice cutting through the night.
He didn’t respond at first, but I felt his body tense under my hands. “What?” he asked, his voice tight, uncertain.
“I said stop,” I repeated, louder this time, and he immediately pulled the bike over to the side of the road, the engine cutting off with a final, ominous growl.
We were on a dark, deserted forest road, the trees casting long, eerie shadows under the moonlight. I got off the bike quickly, putting distance between us, trying to get a grip on the whirlwind of emotions inside me. I walked a few steps away, the cool night air doing nothing to calm the fire burning inside me.
I turned around, my breath catching in my throat as I saw him, standing there, taking off his helmet. His eyes were on me, intense, questioning, filled with something that made my heart race all over again.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was running back to him, my resolve crumbling to dust. I crashed into him, my hands fisting in his shirt as I pulled him down to me, my lips finding his with a desperation I couldn’t control.
His response was immediate, his hands flying to my waist, gripping me tightly as he kissed me back with a fierce, raw passion that left me breathless. His lips moved against mine with a hunger that matched my own, devouring, claiming me in a way that made my knees weak.
He lifted me effortlessly, placing me on the bike with my back against the handlebars, my legs on either side of him as he stepped between them, his body pressing into mine. The cold metal of the bike contrasted sharply with the heat of his body, the hard, unyielding surface beneath me a stark reminder of how exposed, how vulnerable I was.
But I didn’t care. I was beyond caring. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him against me, needing him to take away the ache that was consuming me from the inside out.
His hands roamed over me, possessive, claiming, as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that made me moan into his mouth. He was everywhere—his touch, his taste, his scent—overwhelming my senses until there was nothing left but him.
“Mattheo,” I breathed against his lips, my hands sliding up to cup his face, holding him to me as if letting go would mean losing him forever.
He growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against my lips as he pulled back slightly, his eyes burning into mine, dark and wild. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice rough with barely restrained desire.
“Then show me,” I whispered, my voice trembling, both a challenge and a plea.
And he did. His hands moved down to my hips, gripping me firmly as he pulled me closer, his lips descending on mine once more, claiming me, possessing me. The kiss was hard, demanding, every stroke of his tongue, every nip of his teeth, sending shockwaves through me that left me breathless, trembling in his arms.
his hand tracing a teasing line down my side. His breath was hot against my ear as he whispered, “If I were to slip my hand between those pretty thighs right now, would I find you soaking wet, princess?”
A shiver ran through me, his words setting my skin on fire.
“You’d have to do it to find out,” I whispered back, my voice shaky.
His hand slid down to my thigh, gripping it firmly as he pushed the fabric of my dress up, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin there. The touch was electrifying, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core, making me gasp.
“Such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, dripping with praise that sent another rush of heat through me. His hand moved higher, inching closer to where I needed him most, but he took his time, teasing me, making me squirm against him.
When his fingers finally reached the edge of my panties, he paused, his eyes locking onto mine, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re already so wet for me,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he slid one finger along the slick fabric, barely touching me but enough to make my breath hitch.
I bit my lip, fighting back a moan as he continued to tease me, his finger tracing lazy circles over my clit through the thin fabric. The sensation was maddening, the light touch just enough to drive me crazy but not nearly enough to satisfy the aching need inside me.
“Let’s see how wet you really are,” he whispered, slipping his hand inside my panties, his fingers brushing against my slick folds. The contact was enough to make me moan, the sound escaping my lips before I could stop it.
His finger slid along my slit, collecting my wetness before he pressed it against my clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had me arching into his touch, desperate for more. “You’re drenched,” he murmured, his voice laced with approval, his breath hot against my neck as he continued to work me over.
“Mattheo,” I gasped, my hands gripping his shoulders as he curled his finger, finding that perfect spot that made me see stars. He added another finger, the stretch delicious as he pumped them in and out, his thumb brushing against my clit with every movement.
“Look at you princess.” he whispered, his voice a low growl as he continued to finger me, his pace steady and relentless. “You like knowing we’re still in public, don’t you, Y/N? That’s so unlike you….”
His words made my head spin, the combination of his dirty talk and the way his fingers worked me over was too much, too overwhelming. “Nothing I do when I’m with you is like me,” I admitted, my voice breathless as I bucked against his hand, craving more of the pleasure only he could give me. “But nothing has ever felt this good.”
He groaned at my confession, his fingers curling inside me, hitting that perfect spot that had me seeing stars. “Good girl,” he praised again, his voice filled with pride and lust as he kissed me hard, his lips claiming mine with a hunger that left me breathless.
I kissed him back with equal fervor, losing myself in the feel of him, the way his fingers worked me over, driving me closer and closer to the edge. His thumb pressed harder against my clit, his fingers curling inside me in just the right way, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me that made my entire body tremble.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he growled against my lips, his fingers moving faster, harder, the wet sounds of his fingers working me over filling the dark, empty forest around us. “You’re going to come for me, aren’t you, princess? Come all over my fingers like the good girl you are.”
His words were my undoing, the praise and the dirty talk too much for me to handle. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders as I shattered around him, my orgasm ripping through me with a force that left me breathless, clinging to him for support as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me.
Mattheo didn’t stop, his fingers working me through my orgasm, prolonging the pleasure until I was nothing but a trembling, panting mess in his arms. He finally slowed his movements, gently pulling his fingers out of me and bringing them to his lips, his eyes locked onto mine as he licked them clean.
“Fuck, you taste amazing,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe and satisfaction as he pulled me in for another searing kiss, his tongue slipping into my mouth, letting me taste myself on him.
I kissed him back, my heart racing, my body still trembling from the intensity of what he’d just done to me. I knew we were still out in the open, knew that anyone could have seen us, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was him, the way he made me feel, the way he could break down every wall I’d ever built around myself with just a touch, a word, a kiss.
breath was hot against my ear as he whispered, “Would you let me tease you, princess? Let me take my time driving you wild until you’re begging for me?”
His voice was dark, dripping with lust and promise, the words alone sending a shiver down my spine. I could only nod, still panting, my body trembling from the aftershocks of my release. The anticipation of what he was about to do had my heart racing, my breath catching in my throat.
He smirked at my response, his eyes gleaming with wicked intent. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his hands sliding down to spread my legs wider. I gasped as the cool air brushed against my heated core, my entire body thrumming with a desperate need for more.
Mattheo took his time, starting with a slow, deliberate kiss on the inside of my thigh, just above my knee. His lips were soft, his tongue darting out to taste my skin as he worked his way up, inch by agonizing inch. Each kiss, each lick, sent a fresh wave of arousal through me, making my thighs tremble in anticipation.
He alternated between gentle kisses and slow, teasing licks, his tongue tracing patterns up my inner thigh. The closer he got to where I wanted him most, the more my hips began to shift, desperate for him to end the torment. But he didn’t rush, savoring every moment, every reaction he pulled from me.
When he finally reached the apex of my thighs, he paused, his breath warm against my soaked folds. The anticipation was unbearable, every nerve in my body screaming for him to touch me, to give me the release I was so desperately craving.
“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice laced with dark amusement as he kissed the sensitive skin right beside where I ached for him most.
And then, without warning, his tongue was on me, the first long, slow lick sending a bolt of pleasure straight through me. I cried out, my hips bucking involuntarily as his tongue slid over my folds, his hands gripping my thighs to hold me in place.
He took his time, alternating between slow, teasing licks and firm, deliberate strokes of his tongue over my clit. Every touch was electric, every swirl of his tongue pushing me closer and closer to the edge. I was already so sensitive, still reeling from my first orgasm, and the sensation was almost too much to bear.
“Mattheo, please,” I gasped, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more.
He chuckled against me, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through me. “Patience, princess,” he murmured, his voice a dark, sinful promise. “I’m just getting started.”
He wrapped his lips around my clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue over the sensitive nub. The combination of his mouth and the steady rhythm of his tongue was driving me wild, the pleasure building so quickly that it was almost overwhelming.
He kept at it, his tongue working in tandem with his lips, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. My thighs were trembling, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps as the pleasure coiled tight in my belly, ready to snap.
And then he pushed me over the edge, his tongue curling around my clit in a way that made my vision go white. I cried out, my body convulsing as the orgasm tore through me, the pleasure so intense that I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only feel.
He didn’t stop, didn’t give me a moment to recover as he continued to work me through my release, his tongue lapping up every bit of my arousal. The overstimulation was mind-blowing, each flick of his tongue sending another shockwave through my already oversensitive body.
“Mattheo,” I gasped, my voice raw from the intensity of it all. “I can’t—”
“Oh, but you can,” he growled, his voice dark and commanding as he continued his assault on my clit, his fingers sliding back inside me to curl against that spot that made me see stars. “You’re going to cum again, princess. I want to feel you fall apart for me one more time.”
I could barely form a coherent thought, my mind completely consumed by the pleasure he was giving me. I could only nod, my body already climbing toward that peak again, the intensity of it making my head spin.
He finally pulled away, his hands gently holding my thighs as I came down from the high, my body still trembling with the aftershocks. I was completely spent, my mind foggy with pleasure, but Mattheo just grinned up at me, his lips glistening with my arousal.
“Fuck, you’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he kissed my inner thigh, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my skin. “I could do this all night.”
Tears of pleasure welled in my eyes as I reached for Mattheo, pulling him up to me. I could feel my makeup smeared, my face wet with tears that I knew had streaked down my cheeks, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was him, about the way his lips met mine in a kiss that was as fierce as it was tender.
He kissed me with a hunger that matched my own, his hands cradling my face as if I were something precious, even as I reached down, my fingers fumbling with the buckle of his belt. I could feel how hard he was, could feel the heat radiating from him, and it only made me more desperate, more eager to feel all of him.
But then, to my surprise, he pulled back slightly, his hand catching mine. “No,” he murmured, his voice firm, but there was something in his tone that made me pause, that made me look up into his eyes, confused.
“What? Why?” I asked, my breath hitching, my heart pounding in my chest. The need in me was so overwhelming that I couldn’t understand why he would stop now, not when we were both so clearly on the edge.
He laughed softly, but it wasn’t mocking. It was low and full of a raw affection that sent a shiver down my spine. He leaned in and kissed me again, slow and deep, as if he were trying to pour all of his feelings into that one moment. When he pulled back, he looked into my eyes, his thumb brushing gently over my tear-streaked cheek.
“Believe me, there’s nothing I want more in this world than to bend you over this bike and take you right now, right here,” he whispered, and the words alone were enough to make my legs go weak.
“Then do it,” I pleaded, my voice trembling with both need and frustration. I didn’t care about anything else in that moment; I just wanted him.
But he shook his head, his gaze never leaving mine, his thumb still tracing the line of my cheek.
“No,” he repeated, and before I could protest, before I could beg, he continued, his voice soft but filled with a determination that left me breathless. “When I get to have you, Y/N, I want it to be when I can take my time, when I can make you feel everything I’ve been dying to give you. I don’t want to rush this, to take you in some dark forest where anyone could see. You deserve more than that, more than just a quick fuck.”
His words hit me like a tidal wave, overwhelming in their sincerity, in the sheer weight of what he was saying. I could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing that mattered in the entire world. He wanted more than just my body; he wanted all of me, and he wanted it to be right.
I was speechless, my heart pounding so hard it hurt, and all I could do was stare at him, trying to process everything he had just said. “Mattheo…” I whispered, my voice barely audible, but he silenced me with another kiss, this one gentle, full of a tenderness that brought fresh tears to my eyes.
"Not here, not like this. I want to take my time with you, princess. I want to feel every inch of you, taste every part of you, and make you mine in every possible way.”
I could only nod, tears slipping down my cheeks as I kissed him back, pouring all of my emotions into that kiss. I wanted him so badly it hurt, but I knew he was right. This—whatever it was between us—was more than just a physical need. It was something deeper, something that deserved to be treated with the care and attention he was promising.
We were supposed to be heading to class, but with Mattheo Riddle standing this close, logic and responsibility seemed to melt away. His lips were on mine, hot and insistent, and I could barely think straight. His hand was firmly on my waist, pulling me closer as if he couldn't get enough, and I had to admit, I didn’t mind in the slightest.
In the back of my mind, I knew we were in a hallway, but everything else was a blur. All I could focus on was the way Mattheo’s lips moved against mine, the way his other hand slid up to cup my cheek, deepening the kiss.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor. My eyes flew open, and Mattheo reacted instantly, pulling me into a nearby alcove and pressing a hand gently over my mouth. My heart raced, not from fear but from the thrill of almost being caught. I couldn’t help the mischievous smile that crept onto my lips as I peeked up at him.
His eyes were locked onto mine, and he had that signature smirk of his as we both listened to the footsteps drawing nearer. The Ravenclaw group passed by, completely oblivious to our presence. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at how close we had come to being caught.
As soon as they were out of sight, I grinned and grabbed his collar, yanking him back to me. “Where were we?” I asked, my voice playful as I pressed my lips to his once more. The taste of him was intoxicating, and I was already forgetting why we needed to stop.
His hands slid down my back, pulling me even closer, his lips moving hungrily against mine. “Right here,” he murmured between kisses. “Not going anywhere, princess.”
I laughed softly, feeling the thrill of the moment surge through me. “You’re going to get us both in trouble,” I teased, even as I kissed him deeper, not caring at all about the consequences.
“Worth it,” he breathed out, his lips trailing down to my collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “You know, you could just skip class… stay here with me. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
“I definitely don’t want to go to class right now.”
“Who says we have to?” he murmured, his voice low and tempting as he pressed another kiss to the corner of my mouth.
I sighed dramatically, feigning frustration. “You’re such a bad influence, Riddle.”
“And you’re such a willing participant, Y/L/N,” he shot back with a smirk, pulling me back in for another kiss. This time, it was even more heated, as if the idea of sneaking around had only fueled the fire between us.
But just as things were getting even more intense, a familiar voice interrupted us. “Oh, don’t mind me. Continue.”
We both pulled away quickly, turning to see Theo standing there, looking entirely too amused for my liking.
Mattheo sighed, rolling his eyes before he spoke, “Theo, mate, you’re my best friend. Can’t you find something better to do than being a cockblock?”
Theo crossed his arms, smirking. “And you two were supposed to be finding the person behind the gossip column, not making out in an empty hallway.”
At Theo's words, realization hit me like a lightning bolt. The Daily Prophet letter! It was supposed to be today! I spun around to face him. “Theo, did the letter arrive yet?”
He shook his head. “Nope, nothing. You might’ve scared them off for good.”
I frowned, trying to think straight despite the lingering heat in my body from Mattheo’s touch. “That’s strange… they’ve been so consistent."
Mattheo’s hand was still on my waist, his thumb brushing gently over my skin, and despite my worry, I couldn’t help but feel a small thrill at his touch. I turned to him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I should probably go so I won’t be late for class,” I said softly, though every part of me wanted to stay right here with him.
“You sure you don’t want to stay? I can think of a few more ways to spend the time.”
I laughed, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Tempting, but I’ll save that for later.” With that, I pulled away from him, giving Theo a playful wave as I hurried off down the corridor.
As I walked away, I could hear Mattheo’s voice behind me, low and teasing. “You know, Theo, sometimes I think you take your job as a third wheel a little too seriously.”
Theo’s laughter echoed through the hallway as I turned the corner, already counting down the minutes until I could see Mattheo again.
I sat in class, staring blankly at the parchment in front of me, my quill lazily tracing random lines across the page. The absence of the Daily Gossip Letter today was unsettling, and I could feel the unease settling over the classroom like a heavy fog. Everyone else seemed to be thinking the same thing—why hadn’t it come today? The letter had become a constant, its arrival as predictable as the sunrise, yet today, there was nothing.
As I absentmindedly doodled on my notebook, my mind began to wander, trying to piece together why the letter had stopped.
But why would it stop?
I tried to focus, to pay attention to the professor’s words, but my thoughts kept wandering. The gossip letter had become a staple at Hogwarts, a daily dose of scandal that everyone had come to expect. So why would it just… stop?
Unless… unless the person behind it didn’t need it anymore.
The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I started to think about all the things that had been written about me in that damned letter. The gossip wasn’t just random; it was targeted, specific. Almost like someone had a personal reason.
I started recalling all the gossip that had been written about me. My so-called date with Prince Edward, which wasn’t even a real date because I had turned him down. But when I returned to school, the letter had detailed everything about it—except the rejection part, of course. That happened privately, away from prying eyes. So how did the letter know about the date in the first place? Who else was in Italy at the same time as me?
My heart began to race as I straightened in my seat, my hand shaking slightly as I wrote down the names of the only two people who could have possibly known. The first name felt wrong, implausible, but the second… my stomach twisted as I scrawled it down.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. My thoughts raced back to another piece of gossip—the one about me supposedly flirting with a Durmstrang student during the Yule Ball. The truth was, I had been trying to get information about a certain dark artifact that night, and the conversation had been strictly business. Yet the letter painted a completely different picture.
Again, I scribbled down the name. My hand tightened around the quill as I recalled another instance—Time when I helped Adrian Pucey sneak into the restricted section of the library. It was late at night, and we were careful not to get caught. But the letter described it in perfect detail, down to the exact time we were there. Who else knew?
The quill in my hand quivered as I wrote down the final name. My breathing became shallow, and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as all the clues finally came together, like pieces of a puzzle that I had been too blind to see. Every rumor, every piece of gossip, every little detail that had been written about me, led back to one person.
I circled the name angrily, feeling my heart break as I stared at the words on the page, the tears now spilling down my cheeks.
I didn’t care that the professor was calling my name, didn’t care about the shocked whispers that followed me as I bolted out of the classroom. All I could think about was finding him, confronting him. My feet carried me quickly down the corridors, my heart pounding in my chest as I headed toward the Great Hall. But when I got there, he wasn’t among the students milling about.
I clenched my fists, trying to think. Where would he be? Then it hit me—Quidditch practice. They had the last part of the day off.
Without another thought, I made my way to the Slytherin dorms. My mind was racing, anger and betrayal twisting in my chest as I reached his door. I didn’t hesitate as I knocked, the sound echoing in the empty corridor.
When the door opened, Mattheo’s surprised expression turned into a mischievous smirk as he leaned against the frame, eyes raking over me. “Y/N? What, you miss kissing me so much you had to skip class?” His tone was playful, teasing, and he stepped aside to let me in.
I ignored the flutter in my chest and walked past him into the room. The moment he saw my face, though, his smirk faded. He closed the door and turned to me, concern clouding his eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, as he moved closer. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”
I sat down on his bed, feeling the weight of his gaze on me. His words echoed in my mind, the ones he’d said before about how the person behind the gossip letter must want to get a reaction out of me. I looked up at him, a cold smile curling my lips. "Well, was it good?"
Mattheo frowned, confusion crossing his features. “What are we talking about now, princess?”
“The reaction you got out of me,” I said, and just like that, the smile on my face vanished, replaced by the full weight of my anger and hurt. “Was it everything you hoped for?”
His face went blank, the confusion deepening in his eyes. “Wait, Y/N—”
“Checkmate, Riddle,” I said, my voice trembling as I stood up, the anger and hurt finally spilling over.
"You were the only one who knew about Italy, about what happened there. You were the one who was with me at the Yule Ball. You were there when Adrian and I sneaked into the library." My voice grew louder with each accusation, tears burning in my eyes. "All of those details, every single one of them—it was you. You were the one writing the gossip letter, weren’t you?"
Tears blurred my vision as I continued, my voice shaking with emotion. “Was it fun for you? Watching me losing my mind, seeing how much it effected me? Was it a game, Mattheo? Did you enjoy it? You said the person doing this wanted a reaction—well, congratulations, you got it. You got everything you wanted. I trusted you… I thought you cared, but you were just playing me all along.”
“You’ve been playing me this whole time, haven’t you? Feeding me lies, watching as I fell for every trap you set. And for what? A laugh? A good story?”
“Y/N, that’s not—” he started, but I cut him off.
“Save it,” I spat out, my voice breaking under the weight of my emotions. “You’ve already won. I just wonder why you haven’t written your final story yet—it’s a good one. Especially the part where you—"
But before I could finish, he cut me off, his voice trembling with an emotion I hadn’t expected.
"What could I have done, Y/N? What could I have possibly done?" he began, his words tumbling out in a rush, raw and unfiltered. "I was there, yes, I was right there with you—through all of it. But do you know why? Do you know why I couldn’t stay away?"
I froze, his words piercing through my anger like a knife. He continued, his voice thick with desperation. "I’ve loved you all this time, from the first day I got off that stupid train, from the first moment I laid eyes on you. And I can’t remember a single day where I haven’t been in love with you.
He paused, his eyes locked on mine, pleading for understanding. "It wasn’t just some stupid crush, Y/N. It was an obsession, it was madness—but it was love. I loved you, and I still love you. I was desperate… Desperate to be near you, to be a part of your life, even if it meant doing something as twisted as this."
I stood frozen."You could have just said that. You should have just told me that."
"Yeah, right," he scoffed bitterly, shaking his head. "Fucking right, Y/N."
"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice wavering.
"You had a damn prince crying after you rejected him," Mattheo snapped, his frustration and jealousy spilling over. "A prince, Y/N! And here I am, the son of a psychopath, the last person anyone should ever trust, much less love. What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, by the way, I’m in love with you, even though my father’s the Dark Lord and everyone expects me to be just like him’? Who the hell would ever want that?"
He paced the room, running a hand through his hair as he continued, his voice strained. "Every day, I watched you. I saw you with your friends, with guys who could give you everything—everything. And the worst part? The worst fucking part was knowing that no matter what I did, no matter how close I got, it would never be enough. Not for someone like you."
Tears welled up in my eyes again, but this time they weren’t from anger. "You don’t get it, Mattheo. None of that mattered to me. None of it. I didn’t care about titles or any of that. I just wanted someone who was real with me. Someone who saw me for who I am, not just as some piece in a game."
He stopped pacing and turned to me, his expression softening. "I did see you, Y/N. That’s why I did what I did. The letters… they were my way of being close to you, of being a part of your world. But I was so scared of losing you, of you finding out what I’d done, that I just kept digging myself deeper. And now… now I’ve lost you anyway."
His voice broke on the last word, and the sight of him standing there, so vulnerable, shattered the last of my defenses.
Just as I was about to respond, movement from the next bed caught my eye. I blinked, my heart skipping a beat when I saw Enzo sitting up, looking between Mattheo and me with wide, startled eyes, propped up on his elbows.
He Clearly had heard more than enough. "Oh, fuck," he muttered, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "I’ve got this thing—relationship phobia. Can’t be around emotional confessions, they give me hives." [p.s that’s the same Enzo from Down bad pray for him]
He awkwardly shuffled out of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, guys. Gonna get out of here real quick. Pretend I was never here, yeah?" With that, he practically bolted out of the room, leaving me staring after him in disbelief until the door clicked shut behind him.
This family is insane.
We both stood there in silence for a moment, the sudden interruption leaving us both a bit stunned. I didn’t know what to say, and it seemed like Mattheo didn’t either.
“Y/N,” he finally whispered, his voice cracking as he took a tentative step toward me. “Please… say something. Anything.”
“You hurt me, Mattheo,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You lied to me, manipulated me."
“I know,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I did, and I hate myself for it. But Y/N, please believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how else to keep you close.”
Tears welled up in my eyes again, and I wiped them away furiously, hating how vulnerable I felt in this moment. “Why didn’t you just tell me how you felt? Why did you have to go through all this?”
“I’m sorry,” he breathed, his voice so quiet, so broken, that it made my chest ache. “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I never wanted to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how else to be close to you. I didn’t know how to tell you that I loved you without feeling like I was going to lose you.”
I bit my lip, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over. “But you didn’t have to do it like this, Mattheo. You didn’t have to lie to me, to manipulate me, just to be close. I would’ve—” My voice broke, and I had to take a deep breath to steady myself. “I would’ve loved you anyway."
Mattheo's face softened, his brow furrowing in confusion as he whispered, "You would?" His voice was barely audible, almost as if he didn’t believe the words that had just left his lips.
I couldn’t bring myself to answer right away. My heart was pounding, and I could feel the walls I had built around myself beginning to crumble. Without a word, I got up from the bed and walked toward him, each step feeling heavier than the last.
"Yeah," I finally said, my voice trembling as I stood in front of him. "Because it would’ve been easy, Mattheo."
His eyes searched mine, desperate and lost, as if he was trying to find the truth in my words.
"I’ve loved you," I began, my voice cracking, "from the moment I stepped off that stupid train, too love must have been in the air that day or something. But I couldn’t let myself admit it. Instead, I pushed you away, pretended I couldn’t stand you because I was terrified—terrified of how much I wanted you, how much I needed you." Tears spilled over, and I couldn’t stop them this time. They streamed down my face as I choked out the words I had been too afraid to say for so long. "I didn’t know how to deal with how much you consumed me, so I fought it. But it was always you, Mattheo. It was always you."
He moved closer, his hands gently cupping my face, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. His touch was soft, so different from the way he usually carried himself—like he was afraid I might break if he wasn’t careful.
“I didn’t know…” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”
“I did. I do,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper as I leaned into his touch. “I just didn’t want to admit how much you meant to me. How much you still mean to me.”
Mattheo’s forehead rested against mine, his breath warm on my skin as he held me close. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice filled with a kind of raw vulnerability I’d never heard from him before. “I didn’t know how to show you what I felt without messing everything up. I was so afraid of losing you that I did the exact thing that could drive you away.”
I shook my head, trying to push away the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. “I know,” I whispered, my hands clutching the front of his shirt as if he was the only thing keeping me grounded. “I know now that the letters were more about admiring me than harming me. They only felt too much when another boy was involved, and… and I get it. I get that it was your twisted way of dealing with jealousy.”
He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his gaze intense but soft, as if he was seeing me for the first time. “You mean everything to me,” he said, his voice so quiet it was almost a breath. “I just didn’t know how to show it without screwing it up.”
“You don’t have to be perfect,” I told him, my voice shaky as I tried to make him understand. “You just have to be you. That’s all I ever wanted.”
Mattheo’s grip on me tightened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine in the softest, most tentative kiss. It was like he was asking for permission, for forgiveness, and I gave it to him willingly, kissing him back with all the emotions I had kept bottled up for so long.
As the kiss deepened, I felt the last of my walls crumble, leaving me completely vulnerable in his arms. But for the first time, I wasn’t afraid. I knew that despite everything, this was where I was meant to be. And maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other from here.
“I love you,” I whispered against his lips, my voice thick with tears and longing.
“I love you to—”
The door suddenly burst open, and Blaise walked in, his eyes widening as he took in the scene. He froze for a moment, his gaze darting between the two of us, and then a slow smirk spread across his face.
“Well, well, well,” he drawled, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. “Isn’t this cozy? I was just coming to grab a book, but it looks like I walked into the middle of a romance novel. Should I start narrating? ‘And in that moment, their love ignited like a house elf’s poorly managed kitchen fire…’”
I felt my face flush, and I quickly stepped back from Mattheo, wiping at my eyes. “Blaise, could you just…not?” Mattheo said .
Blaise chuckled, completely unfazed by Mattheo’s irritation. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’ll just be over here, pretending I didn’t walk in on whatever _this_ is.” He waved his hand vaguely in our direction before sauntering over to the bookshelf.
I shot Mattheo a look, trying to stifle a laugh as Blaise exaggeratedly searched for his book, humming to himself like nothing unusual had happened.
Mattheo sighed, shaking his head as he muttered, “I’m killing you after this.”
“Nuh,” Blaise called out, pulling a book from the shelf and turning back to us with a grin. “You love me.”
“Debatable,” Mattheo shot back, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.
Blaise winked at me before heading toward the door. “Carry on with your dramatic declarations of love. I’ll leave you two to…whatever this is.” With that, he slipped out of the room, leaving us alone once more.
As the door clicked shut, I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, Mattheo looked down at me.
“Where were we?” he asked softly, pulling me back into his arms.
“I think you were about to tell me how much you love me,” I teased, my heart swelling with warmth.
“Right,” he whispered, his voice turning serious again as he leaned in to kiss me. “ Fuck yeah I love you. So much.”
2K notes · View notes
prael · 2 months ago
Text
Day 6: Revenge Or Fate
IOI/Gugudan Sejeong x male reader smut
words: 5,611 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist
Tumblr media
"What's that look for?" you ask with all the whimsy you can muster. "I only said that I bought your favourite popcorn. Why are you staring at me as if I just got down on one knee and proposed?"
"You did say you'd marry me someday," Sejeong jokes. Then she does that thing she always does when she's nervous—tugging at the lobe of her ear.
You roll your eyes. "Yeah. I mean when we are both in our sixties. When you have become the crazy cat lady and I the bachelor with a penchant for wine and cigarettes. It's not even close to that time yet."
"Why would you be smoking?" Sejeong wrinkles her nose. She knows you can't stand the smell.
"Because I'll be an ageing bachelor, duh," you answer with a dismissive wave of a hand as you sit by her on the couch. She's got her legs curled up against her chest, the way she always does when it's cold outside. You'd know—she's been sitting like that on your couch every winter since the beginning of time.
She lets out the softest of laughs before it quickly dissipates into silence. She's staring across the room, but not really looking at anything. Her face is painted in melancholy. You know her well enough to know that look, and you hate it. Hate everything it represents. You sigh. The first time you saw her like this was back as teenagers, after the dog she grew up with had been hit by a car. It still hurts your chest.
"You've got that look again," you tell her. "Like there's a million and one things in your mind and none of them particularly good."
"I'm okay. Just tired." Sejeong's smile doesn't quite convince you.
"I wasn't going to say anything. I thought you'd tell me if you wanted me to know, but it's been months since you asked me to come over on a Friday night, so something has happened. I haven't seen this much annoyance behind your eyes since the end of Game Of Thrones. What is it?"
"I'm just feeling overwhelmed, that's all. I wish you weren't so observant."
"You should be used to it by now."
Sejeong flashes a half-hearted smile and takes hold of your hand as she used to do when you were kids. You feel guilty for the way your stomach flutters.
"I guess we have always known each other better than anyone else," she admits, her hand still clasped around yours. It's warm and familiar. You feel the urge to push away, but how can you? It would give far too much away. She has always had this effect on you—you could never distance yourself from her warmth. "He's an asshole."
"You don't need to tell me twice," you chuckle. Then: "Tell me what happened."
"I think he might be cheating."
The air escapes from you at once. The way Sejeong said it is so casual, almost as if she'd resigned herself to this fate a long time ago. And here you are, trying your best to keep your anger under control, like always. But not for her sake—rather, for yours. You know where your feelings belong, and they have no place in the situation at hand. Not today, and definitely not ever. You take a deep breath and look her square in the eye.
"What did he do?"
"I shouldn't have mentioned it," she laughs nervously. She doesn't want to put any more weight on your shoulders than she already has, because that's who she is, you suppose. But how can she expect you to ignore it when she looks like a sad dog staring into the rain on someone's front porch?
"We're best friends. I want to hear everything," you insist.
"He's been acting differently lately." Sejeong pauses. "Distant. Like there's something he isn't telling me."
"Do you think there might be?" you ask carefully.
"It's always something with work. Or a friend that really needs him. Or a family member or—fuck. I don't know."
"I'm sorry."
Sejeong sighs and runs a hand through her hair. There are unshed tears in her eyes. This bastard is making her cry. You want to smash something, preferably his head.
"I don't wanna bother you with this shit," she whispers. She sounds exhausted.
"Don't say that," you retort softly, squeezing her hand in yours. It's clammy. "Don't ever say that again."
She gives a curt nod.
"God knows I've told you enough about my romantic misadventures over the years," you joke. Your chest tightens when Sejeong lets out the tiniest of laughs. Maybe you can still make this right, whatever this is. "Misery loves company."
"You know," she begins, pausing to look at you properly. There is something unreadable in her gaze, something that you've never seen before. It makes you hold your breath in anticipation of whatever is to come. "If there's one person I could choose to be miserable with, it would be you."
For a brief second, you forget that time exists.
"Well, I'm very honoured," you reply eventually. There's another pause where you ponder what to say next. Then, simply, because that seems like the easiest answer: "Do you want me to go beat him up?"
Sejeong laughs and punches you in the arm.
"I thought you were a pacifist?"
"Yeah, but exceptions must be made sometimes."
She raises an eyebrow at you. You can't tell what she's thinking. "For me?"
"Yes."
It feels like standing on a cliff. You want nothing more than to jump, to feel freefall in your whole body. The only problem is that you'll most certainly die. The ground below is made of jagged rocks and bad ideas. Yet, here you stand, willing to do anything in the world for the beautiful girl next to you. Even if it means lying broken beyond repair.
Sejeong breaks your trance when she explains, "There's this girl he works with. We had dinner together with some people from their office two weeks ago, and... I don't know. They just seemed off. She kept looking at him. You know that look? The one where they linger on someone just a bit too long."
"So that's what gave it away?"
"Well, that and the rumour. They had a thing before he met me. It's over now, or it was." A single tear rolls down her cheek. She wipes it away quickly, seemingly irritated at herself. You frown. Sejeong has no reason to be ashamed of being hurt. She should be allowed to shed tears, even buckets full if necessary. You wouldn't judge. "At least that's what he said. He promised me it was over. But... God."
You reach forward to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Her lips tremble, so you quickly move your eyes back up. Staring at her lips is dangerous territory.
"You don't deserve this shit," you say resolutely.
Sejeong chuckles sarcastically. "Then why do I keep ending up here?"
That question stings. Not because it's directed at you—it isn't—but rather because you know the answer. Sejeong has been in this kind of position too many times to count. She attracts guys like honey does flies; every single time, with no exceptions. Only the worst seem to make it past the rest. Sejeong gets caught in their deceitful net time and time again, only to inevitably break her heart after months and months of manipulation disguised as devotion.
"Want my honest answer?"
"Yes."
"I think it's because you're the sort of person that believes the best in everyone. And that is a beautiful trait. I love that you do that. I really do. But sometimes..." you trail off, not quite sure how to continue without sounding accusatory.
"Sometimes I get screwed over," Sejeong finishes. You nod in response. "You're right. I guess it's my fault for trusting too easily."
"No," you shake your head. "It's not your fault. That part is absolutely wonderful. It's just..." You're suddenly hesitant. What if Sejeong takes this the wrong way and shuts you out?
"What?" she probes.
"Have you ever heard the expression 'you can't see the tree for the woods'?"
"Sounds stupid."
"It means you can't see what's right in front of your nose," you explain.
Sejeong stares at you for a long time. You think she understands, but it's impossible to know. It would probably be better that way—if she understood and did nothing about it. You aren't supposed to feel this way about her. How many times haven't you imagined what it would be like if things were different? If circumstances were perfect, if her current guy hadn't appeared out of anywhere and swept her off her feet before you'd even realised what was happening.
But that's just your luck.
"Thank you," Sejeong whispers. "Can we, um, watch something? I don't wanna think about this right now."
You let out an awkward cough. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. Do you remember when you forced me to watch Twilight, and I spent the entirety of the movie complaining about how terrible it was?"
"You still watched all of them with me." A tiny grin appears on her face. Thank God.
"That was truly the highest form of torture," you joke. "I hope you brought something better today. Please don't tell me you downloaded another movie about sparkly vampires."
Sejeong punches your arm. "I'll have you know I am extremely cultured nowadays."
"Yeah? Show me then."
A couple of hours pass and everything feels decidedly normal. You rest against the arm of the couch and Sejeong rests against you. You make jokes at the expense of the film as you always do and she laughs that soft, carefree laugh of hers. The credits roll and Sejeong sits up, stretching her limbs like a cat after a nap. You smile at the familiarity of it all. For a moment it doesn't matter what she has—or hasn't—been crying over.
"I'm tired," she says. She blinks slowly as if to prove it to herself. It's quite endearing, actually.
"Yeah?" you ask nonchalantly.
"Will you let me stay here tonight?" Her voice is small, unsure. But why? It's not the first time she has stayed here. This place is practically a second home to her.
"Like you need to ask," you retort lightly as you stand up and look down at her.
She opens her mouth to speak, but that's when her phone rings. When she sees his name flashing across the screen, she visibly freezes. Annoyance seeps into you like acid rain. His nerve—to call at such an hour, and expect her to pick up. Sejeong just watches, almost paralyzed, until eventually, she does pick up.
"Hey," is all she says. The reply is much longer. You can't make out the words he's saying but the tone tells you all you need to know.
"I was going to," Sejeong replies tersely. Silence. Then: "I told you already, I went over to—" Pause. She swallows thickly. "You didn't tell me you were going out." A longer stretch of silence, during which his voice gradually increases in volume. Suddenly Sejeong sits bolt upright. Her eyes grow wide with confusion and disbelief.
"Me!?" She shouts. "He's my best friend! I wouldn't—" Another pause. She takes a deep breath. "No. No, that isn't fair. You can't—"
It sounds like he hangs up. Sejeong doesn't move. Her hands are shaking violently.
"Do I even wanna know?"
"I should go home," she murmurs flatly.
"To him? To the guy who's probably just fucked his co-worker?"
Sejeong turns to glare at you, eyes cold as ice. You immediately regret your words.
"I'm sorry," you quickly amend. "That was uncalled for. It's none of my business. I shouldn't have said that."
"Why?" she asks bluntly. Your heartbeat picks up in a hurry. There's anger in her eyes. Anger that could turn against you so quickly.
"Why what?" you reply defensively.
"Why don't you wanna be with anyone? You've rejected every single person who's tried to get close to you since we were sixteen. There's got to be a reason."
The world grinds to a halt. Time, space, and life itself stop existing for a minute while you consider your options. On the one hand, you could lie; come up with a suitable excuse and maybe she won't push for more. On the other hand, you could simply admit to the truth that's haunted you for years.
You open your mouth. Close it. Fuck.
Sejeong stands up, wading in the silence towards you. You can't help but take a step backwards. In that split second, you're sure she knows—and yet you cannot tell.
"Have you ever loved anyone?" Sejeong demands to know.
Your heartbeat roars in your ears. "I don't understand why you're asking me this," you choke out. A part of you wishes you were back there on the cliff. At least then you could've jumped off of your own accord, with a little dignity left intact.
"I need to know," is all Sejeong says. Her gaze is relentless. You hate it. It makes you want to claw your own skin off—and there are truths under there that you plan to take to the grave.
"Why?"
"Because I need to know if what I'm going to do next is the right thing."
She stands beside you now. On the edge of that cliff, though it's starting to feel more like you're on the roof of your car. Staring up at the stars on some forgotten summer night. The jump seems more like a flight.
"I have," you admit. Somehow it seems easier than to try and fight whatever force is controlling the both of you. It feels strangely liberating.
"But you won't allow yourself to do anything about it." You know her well enough to discern a question from a statement, no matter how carefully she might try to veil them as the latter.
"It's complicated," you say quietly. She's so close to you now that you can hear the hitch in her breath. Why is she pushing this? "Why are you doing this?"
Her eyes flit from yours to your lips, then back again. So quickly. One, two. But you saw it. And your entire body tingles in anticipation. You'll dare move away—not now, not when the leap of faith feels more like a hop.
She doesn't say anything else. One more small step and her body collides with yours. Lips press against lips and suddenly, all thought scatters. Sejeong tangles her fingers through your hair and pulls. A gasp escapes you before you regain control and kiss her properly. It's frantic, rushed. Years of pining bleed out with every touch. You grab her, pull her as close to your body as possible, and lose yourself completely. Something is swelling inside you. A feeling so large and uncontainable that you think your chest is going to explode any second.
It is indescribable.
All of it—the sensation of kissing her, holding her—surpasses description. You're falling from that cliff, but she's holding you, and before you can hit the rocks she's dragging you to the couch and climbing on top of you.
It feels unreal. The entire world disappears as your lips find hers again and again and again. You don't care to question what happens after. This moment is yours, forever branded in your memories, and nothing can take that away from you. Even if it ends here—even if she were to walk away now—it would've been worth it. Completely and irrevocably.
When you finally part to catch your breath, you can't help but stare at her in awe. She's so beautiful. A masterpiece. Your hand moves to her cheek almost automatically. Sejeong lets her head fall against it with a soft sigh.
"Wow," she whispers.
"Yeah," you croak.
"Please don't regret this in the morning." Her voice is so quiet, filled with so much pain, that it breaks your heart. Your own fears are secondary.
"I never could," you breathe. Then you lean in to kiss her again, slower this time, savouring every sensation as if it might be the last. By some miracle she responds eagerly, fingers wrapping around the collar of your shirt as she holds you steady. You have no idea where this leaves the two of you, but you want her closer—now. You reach around and slide your hands under her thighs, pulling gently upwards. She follows your lead, settling against your lap in a way that makes the situation undeniably real.
As you kiss, her hips start moving back and forth. Soft, shallow movements. Little whimpers escape her throat and fall directly into your mouth. Fuck. She moans—actually moans—into the kiss and a violent shiver travels through your whole body. You break away momentarily to look at her face, flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes staring back at you.
"Do that again," you whisper against her lips.
"Make me," she pants.
The next kiss is searing, open-mouthed, and accompanied by Sejeong grinding her hips against you. Harder now. Unrelenting. Your hands travel up her waist, slipping beneath her blouse to feel warm skin underneath. You feel every tremble of her body when your fingernails drag lightly across her flesh. A gasp—then she leans backwards, with her arms outstretched and clinging behind your neck, to look you dead in the eye as she continues moving her hips against you.
"Sejeong... What are we—"
"Shh."
Your hands snake further up her shirt. Her back arches in response as she grinds down hard, moaning loudly. Your eyes flutter shut briefly to enjoy the sensations—the sounds—coming from her. You force them open once more because you can't miss this show for anything. You push the shirt up and over her chest. Her hands slip from behind your neck momentarily so that you can get the garment over her head. And then she is there before you, bra and sweatpants-clad, panting softly and waiting.
"Sejeong—"
"Fuck me." It is barely more than a whimper, but it rattles the very core of your being.
"What?"
She lunges forward and kisses you forcefully. There are tears in her eyes—tears you didn't notice until now. Her desperation bleeds through.
"Please," she whispers into your mouth, her voice breaking slightly. "Please."
You can't deny her. How could you? You're unfastening the clasp of her bra and your hands are everywhere on her. Pulling her closer, exploring every inch of bare skin you can get your hands on. Her fingers start unbuttoning your shirt—clumsily, but getting the job done. Once open, her nails dig into your bare shoulders, as if testing out whether you're really here, tangible and real. As if you could disappear at any moment and leave her stranded. A loud groan escapes her when your fingers brush against her nipples.
"You're so fucking beautiful," you murmur into her ear. She whines at the words, nails digging deeper into your skin.
The friction between your legs is driving you mad. You've got the burning urge to pick her up and slam her into the nearest wall, but you savour what you have. First, you kiss her neck, then it's a trail down her collarbones. Your teeth nibble playfully at the skin until she moans, begging you to do something. You obey, leaning in to flick your tongue across a nipple before swirling it around the bud. Her fingers fly into your hair and hold you against her breast.
"Holy shit."
Your mouth latches on tighter. Sucking. Biting. The heat pooling between you grows more intense. Eventually, you detach and move on to the next, eliciting more delicious sounds from the girl above you. All those nights spent fantasising about exactly this don't come close to the real experience. You're supporting her, around the waist and the small of her back, while she leans back in your lap, presenting herself to you.
You appreciate every inch of her slender figure. By eye and then by tongue. You draw constellations along her skin, your touch is feather-light. Across her toned stomach to her hips, then right up the side of her body. She throws an arm above her head and giggles lightly as you lick all the way up underneath it. You follow a path to her armpit. Sejeong giggles more when you begin to nibble there too. When you raise your eyes to meet hers she blushes fiercely.
"Weirdo."
"Just appreciating you," you murmur, pressing soft kisses against her shoulder and up to her neck.
"Mm. I like it," she replies hoarsely.
So you spend some time like this. Appreciating her bare body and making her squirm. Kissing, licking, and biting everything that you can possibly reach until her writhing becomes borderline violent. Then she grabs a hold of your jaw, looks you deep in the eyes, and utters the most sinful words you've ever heard her say.
"Enough teasing. I want to ride your cock now."
Every inch of you lights on fire. From your forehead to the tips of your toes, you feel flames lick at your insides. Sejeong climbs off you without another word and starts pushing her sweats from her hips. You watch, spellbound, as she wiggles out of them. Her panties follow suit.
Then she turns to face you. Standing fully nude, absolutely breathtaking in every sense of the word. A goddess. Every bit as perfect as you had imagined. Even your fantasies weren't this good; nowhere near as intoxicating as this moment right now.
"You have ten seconds before I sit on your face instead," she deadpans, you both laugh. At least she hasn't lost her humour.
You unbuckle your belt and shuffle them down as best you can while still seated. Enough that she can reach down and pull your cock free from its confines. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull when she wraps her slim fingers around it. Pumping up and down. You're hard already, unbelievably so, and when she drags her thumb across the head of your dick it actually twitches. You suck in a deep breath, willing yourself to focus.
And then she sits on your lap, sliding along the length of your cock. Fuck. She repeats it a few times. Back and forth, slicking your cock with her wetness.
"I always pictured this," she admits.
"Really?" you croak.
"God yeah, I remember back in college. I must have rubbed one out to you more times than I can count." She smirks at you then—a wicked smirk that makes your entire body shiver. A filthy admission to you and you only. She does it again, drags her wetness along you. How on earth are you supposed to remain composed when she says things like that and does things like this? You wrap an arm around her back and pull her closer, staring at her as if seeing her for the very first time.
"You can't say things like that, I'm gonna—"
She cuts you off with her tongue in your mouth. Kissing you like it's the last thing she'll ever do, and your lips the only form of sustenance she'll ever need. It gives way to her frantic little moan, desperate and unrestrained. For the life of you you can't comprehend what is happening, only react, and fuck if it isn't the most incredible experience you've ever had. Her skin is burning against yours, hungry and yielding to your every touch.
Sejeong shifts slightly and grabs a hold of you properly. Your eyes widen when the tip of your dick brushes against something wet, warm, and soft. The very centre of her. She repositions herself, now holding you carefully against her, and then... slides down the length of your cock, pausing halfway down. The pleasure is so acute that you cannot control the way your back arches off the couch, and neither do you control the profanities that spill out from your lips.
A sinful grin spreads across her face. As her legs are pinned around your waist, you cannot move, but Sejeong certainly can. And boy, does she know how. She starts bouncing herself up and down, riding you so expertly and looking so good doing it. You've thought of this so many times—having sex with your best friend, of all people—but you did not picture it like this.
"This okay?" she murmurs in your ear. You hear the smile in her voice.
You utter the only word you can muster: "Yes."
She laughs airily, placing a kiss on your temple as she continues her rhythm. When she moans—a long, drawn-out moan, half-pained, half-pleasured—and throws her head back, you stare up at her, eyes drinking in the beauty that is in a position so incredibly vulnerable yet completely in control. How you long to capture this moment and keep it somewhere safe forever. She looks down at you now. Her heavy-lidded eyes pin you to your spot as much as the physical manifestation of her pinned against your skin. She traces her fingers down your jaw, your neck, and the top of your chest.
"I wish he could see me now," Sejeong hisses, anguish evident in her voice.
"You look so fucking good."
"He doesn't know what he had," she laughs bitterly. "Fuck him."
"Fuck him," you echo. Sejeong smirks and moves her hips more fluidly. Goddamn. Her tight little cunt feels so perfect clenched around your cock.
She watches your face closely as she keeps riding you. As you keep clutching her hips and help her along, grinding deeper. Groaning when she throws her hips forward faster and faster. Her cunt is so hot and tight. She sucks at the life seeping out of your pulsating cock and squeezes it with her inner muscles in ways that no one has ever done before. Sometimes she pulls completely off you, her breath shuddering as you twitch, only to take you deep inside her again.
Your hands have a mind of their own, sneaking upwards to grip her neck. You give it a gentle squeeze, just enough to get her attention. All the while you're staring intensely into her eyes. They've become glassy, intoxicated, more than just wanting but longing for it. Her voice is hoarse, strained, as she says, "How have I been so stupid? All this time—you're right here, and I never—"
"It doesn't matter. None of that matters."
"You're so—fuck."
Her body trembles and she falls forward onto you. She's gripping your arms, nails sinking into your flesh. Sejeong's breath grows increasingly laboured. After a long string of expletives, she lets her head rest on your shoulder as you snake an arm around her back and support her. Her whole body is rigid, teetering on the edge of an orgasm.
"Never felt this good," she forces the words out amid moans as you buck your hips up into her, picking up the slack as she begins to falter. The rhythm is quick now, urgent, filled with unbridled passion and everything left unspoken for too long.
When Sejeong cums, you feel it all around you—her pussy quivering, leaking her arousal around you, dripping down your thighs and saturating you, almost drowning in the intensity. It makes her moan into the crook of your neck and rock her hips, fucking herself while trying desperately to quiet the sounds of her ecstasy against your body. But that is unthinkable, to silence someone like that, and you tell her so. Whispering the filthiest things in her ear as she throbs around your cock, dragging out the last tremors of pleasure of her orgasm as much as you possibly can. She spills everything out into your shoulder, every word, every whimper. Until at last, you can feel her sagging in your lap, breathing heavily and spent.
"Keep going," she pants, tightening her grip on your arm. "Don't stop."
She throws herself to the side, pulling you with her, and somehow lands flat on her back with your body on top of her. You wince at the sudden shift. But not for long. Because Sejeong opens her legs wide, hooks her calves around your hips, and tells you again not to stop.
You smirk and lean forward, trapping her beneath your body and capturing her lips in a sensual kiss. It is deliberate, lingering. Her arms fly up and tangle themselves through your hair, locking you together. When your tongues meet, you sigh deeply against her. There is a warmth settling over you. Languid, dream-like. Like you're both floating through clouds, carried away by the sweetest of breezes.
There is nowhere else in the world that you would rather be than right here, between her legs.
You rock into her, once, then twice, each time more intense than the last. The angle is entirely different. You grab a hold of one of her legs and hitch it up a bit, allowing yourself to thrust deeper inside her.
"Are you okay?"
"Mm. Move slower. Nice and slow," she instructs.
And you do. Eventually, a hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck. Sejeong stares into your eyes and your breath catches. Then you're kissing, again and again, but there is not so much desperation and anger anymore, but something else. It is the feel of her hips meeting yours, the way you press your bodies together, the softness of her lips and the taste of her mouth. Her breaths rush from her lips to yours, from hers into you.
Sweat starts to bead at your temples as you rock into her. Slow, deep, patient strokes. It is not desperate fucking anymore, or an attempt to pour all of your heartbreak into some meaningless action. It's almost reverential—the way you're holding each other, soft and sure. A sweet torture, a sublime suffering, for as long as time allows.
You don't talk. Your mouths say nothing, at least. With your bodies, however, your fingertips whisper praise against her skin. Spirits float free and serenade each other. Sounds escape her that you haven't even dreamed of. Broken, wanton, as if wrenched out of her. They rise above and meet in a higher plane of reality, where two minds are one.
It takes time. A slow build to the crescendo. You know when you've struck the final note by the way she cries out, over and over again, her pretty little hole convulsing, spasming around your cock. She wants to squirm away but has nowhere to go. You refuse to let her. You smile against her neck and sink your teeth into the skin there.
Soon you follow, groaning her name into the warm flesh. It's a flood—your insides are melting, pouring out from your loins and into her heat, her insides contracting, trapping every ounce inside. Hot, sticky, yours. This feeling. It is as if your heart has grown wings, a phoenix born anew from the ashes of who you used to be. You don't have to be lost anymore. She will carry you, always, her fingernails tracing patterns in your damp skin. There is nothing to fear.
Sejeong whines and moans softly as you fill her. One more careful thrust and you still, collapsing on top of her as the waves subside. All the while she is there, stroking the back of your neck and quietly reciting every piece of filth that she can think of.
You wonder whether this will last longer than the night.
God. Would you be okay with that?
When you eventually move back to look at her, to make sure she's okay, there are tears in her eyes. Uncertainty overwhelms you. Before you can react, before you can ask what is wrong, Sejeong cups your cheek. "Thank you," she whispers, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. This girl. All these years. All the wasted time. It feels right being with her; everything is finally where it should have been all along.
"You were worth the wait," you breathe. You place a kiss against her brow before rolling off and settling next to her.
"Do you..." Her voice fades. She runs a finger along your collarbone, eyes anywhere but yours. "Do you want this to be a one-time thing?
"No," you answer without hesitation. You catch her hand in yours, entangling your fingers, willing her to understand everything that you're unable to tell her.
Sejeong smiles. Genuine, unapologetic. For the first time in months, she looks happy. Fuck him, indeed. "Good," she says with a soft laugh that evaporates any of her lingering doubts. Her eyes flick to your lips and she whispers, "So, uh, we've got some lost time to make up for."
"Yeah?" you whisper while rolling her back over and climbing over her. "If there's a debt to be paid..." You start trailing kisses down her neck, down her sternum, grinning at the tiny shivers it elicits. "What better time than now?"
Your kisses lead you over her toned stomach. Once you reach the juncture between her thighs, you pick up her leg and set it over your shoulder. Sejeong is already squirming, anticipating what is to come. You take a look at her—mussed hair and flushed cheeks, mouth slightly open, beautiful, tempting. It feels almost gratuitous—that you're able to see her like this. It makes you pull her even closer, and stick your tongue into her center. Her upper body lifts almost immediately and her eyes fly open. A shaky whimper leaves her lips.
She's right. There is a lot of catching up to do. Luckily for her, there's still the whole night ahead of you and a lot more you'd like to show her.
713 notes · View notes
mywritersmind · 4 months ago
Note
Fewtrell reader is staying over at Maxs and hes out and Lando comes over and asks “is he home?” and she offers to let him in and wait and the tension is HIGHHH (hes her childhood crush) and you can be creative from here. 🫣
FUCK WITH MY HEAD - LN4
Tumblr media
listen up : banter banter banter!! mentions of sex. ty for the request this like vibe is always in my mind (flirty bantery brothers best friend)
word count : 1061
⋆。‧˚⋆
I’m not even dressed yet, but the consistent knowing and ringing of the doorbell is driving me mad, “Whoever you are, you better have a good reason!” I yell at the unknown person as I yank open the door, only a towel wrapped around me. “Of course it’s you.”
“Wow, not even a hello? And I thought we were friends.” Lando Norris stands in front of me, holding his chest like I've hurt his heart. His eyes check out my towel situation before asking, “Your brother home?”
I practically groan in his face, walking away from the door, “You couldn’t have texted him!? He’s gone for another hour.” I say as I slam the door of the guest bedroom closed so I can change in peace.
I hear the front door shut, “Someone’s in a good mood today.” I mock him only for myself to see as I pull on white shorts and an oversized t-shirt.
I walk back out, breathing deeply and reminding myself that he can’t get to me if I don’t let him, “You’re sort of ruining my only time alone this week.” I’m visiting my brother and as much as I love the guy, he’s fucking obnoxious to live with.
“Had to listen to P and Max go at it, huh?” He leans over the counter, taking a crisp from my bowl.
I make a disgusted face at him, “You’re disgusting and you know for a fact I would be gone if that happened.”
“Wish I was spared from their sex life.” I roll my eyes and pour myself some water, “So… How’s your trip been?”
Small talk? Seriously weird coming from Lando.
“Why are you here anyways?” I don’t answer his question, he stands and joins me at my side, “You know that phone you have? It actually can message someone so you don’t randomly show up to their house!” I smile and blink at him.
He takes another crisp, “But then I wouldn’t be getting this lovely time with you.” I shake my head as I sip my water, pretending not to notice Lando’s eyes roam my body.
It’s a weird feeling to look back at your childhood crush in general; but when your childhood crush is your best friend's brother, famous, rich, and ridiculously attractive, it’s even worse.
Lando Norris was the object of my desire at thirteen and clearly I was onto something. He's dressed in a black shirt and jeans, sporting sneakers and a singular ring on his middle finger.
Still, like every historically accurate childhood crush, Lando never showed any interest. Until we hit our 20s and Lando learned how to flirt.
I don’t see him often, we would run into each other during breaks or holidays. I watch quadrant videos while I do my makeup or races while I pick out an outfit, but Lando hasn’t been this close to me in a while.
The last time we were like this was the beginning of last year. Like I said, we see each other for some holidays. I happened to be invited to his and Max’s new year’s party.
I also happened to be Lando’s new year's kiss. Maybe a bit more, but a lady never tells.
I fake sweetness, twirling my hair, “I’m honored! Lando Norris likes,” My voice goes dry and I walk away from him, “ruining my me time!”
I hear him chuckle as I sit on the couch with my food and phone, “You get sassier everytime I see you.”
I bite into my food, “As I should.”
“And hotter.” I’m paused with my food halfway in my mouth. What the fuck.
I take a breath, not daring to look back, “You shouldn’t say shit like that.”
“Why? I know you like it.” how is his voice attractive?
I turn around, he’s got a shit eating grin on his face, leaning back against the counter. “Max.” I say simply.
“Last time I checked,” He pushes off the counter, walking to the couch and looking down at me, “Max isn’t here.”
“You’re getting far too optimistic.” I look up at him, “Fame going to your head?”
“No I think it’s just you…” His gaze stays fixed on me, “In my head, I mean.” He does this shit too often. Gets in my head while boosting his confidence. I blush and he smirks, it’s a sick cycle that I can’t help but love.
His eyes are glued to mine, I narrow them, trying to figure out his aim here.
“Get in line.” I roll my eyes and turn back to my food and open my phone. I see him bite back a smile, jumping over the couch and laying face up.
He tilts his head back at me while I text my friend, “So… Uni. How many boyfriends have you got?”
I don’t look at him, “I’m currently dating my textbooks. Who has the time?”
“Alright, how many fuck buddies you got?” I eye him, all cute and upside down.
I put my phone down, “You really wanna know the truth?”
“Are my feelings gonna get hurt?”
I look away and he sits up, looking at me in that way I hate so much. It’s not even been twenty minutes and he’s already fucking with my head.
He scoots closer to me and I push my hand over his face to get him away, “You’re ridiculous. You know exactly what you’re doing.”
He doesn’t look away, he never seems to have an issue with eye contact when it comes to me, “What am I doing?” His tone is egging me on, “Go on. Tell me.”
I shake my head, “You’ve got that look in your eye… Like how you looked at me during new years.” The corner of his mouth lifts at the memory.
“Is that a bad thing?”
I sigh, what am I supposed to do? We never talked about it. Max could never know. And as attracted to him as I am, It will never happen again.
I tilt my head a bit, “What are you gonna Lando? Fuck me on my brothers couch?” I catch the slight blush on his cheeks, how his eyes flicker down.
Then he looks back up at me, but not meeting my eyes, his smile grows, “Seems like a pretty appealing offer right now.”
I groan and stand up, “I’m resuming my me time, try not to break anything.”
“You’re not slick, darling! Think of me when you touch yourself.” He blows me a kiss, I reply with my middle finger.
691 notes · View notes
supernovafics · 1 month ago
Text
𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 4.9k words
warnings: explicit language, a bit of angst (bc of some family drama), lots of fluff, smut (18+), unprotected piv sex, tiny hint of praise kink
summary: in which a family wedding makes you think about the future
author's note: i love when i randomly get hit with inspiration for this universe<33
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Summer 1986
You had been trying to stay on your parents’ good side. They hadn’t been pestering you a lot about your future— specifically college and transferring to the University of Chicago, where they had wanted you to go since you were a kid— and you wanted to keep it that way. And if that meant going to a family wedding in Illinois, then so be it. 
The only bearable part about it was that Steve was coming too, and it had taken absolutely no bribing to get him to say yes. 
“Is this my girlfriend privilege coming into play?” You asked him as you two sat on the couch in your apartment’s living room. “Because I swear if we were still just friends you would at least force me to do all of the driving or something.”
Steve gave you an amused smile. “Do you want me to make you do all of the driving?”
“Nope, not at all,” You shook your head. “So, actually, I’m gonna stop talking now.” 
Steve laughed a little and you focused your attention back on the random sitcom playing on the TV, a small smile on your face. 
“Do you think Dustin will wanna babysit Harold again?” Steve asked as he mindlessly reached out to grab your hand that was buried under the blanket draped over your laps and intertwined it with his. 
“Oh, yeah, definitely,” You answered with a nod, taking a look over at the brown and white hamster’s cage that was sitting on the low shelf you two had next to the TV. “Honestly, I think he’s starting to like Harold more than us.” 
“I’m pretty sure that happened right when we got him.”
“Shit, you’re right,” You said as you shifted a bit and wrapped Steve’s arm around you so that you were nuzzled more comfortably in his side and then intertwined your hands once again. “I actually feel kinda offended about that. Just so you know, I love you and Harold equally.”
“Equally?” Steve said, sounding playfully shocked. “I’ve known you for basically ten years.”
“Yeah, but Harold’s our son, so…” You shrugged, trying to contain your growing smile. 
“Okay, I guess I’ll share the number one spot, then,” He responded as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head.  
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The four-hour drive to the town just out of Chicago where the majority of your family lived wasn’t terrible. You and Steve evenly split the driving time and spent most of it playing silly games; mainly the license plate game because it was a car ride staple, and also a game where you two had to try and think of the same word and say it at the same time, and you two were eerily good at it. 
By the time you made it to the hotel that all of the out-of-town family members were staying at because of how close it was to the wedding venue, it was the middle of the night. Even though Steve didn’t have to work today— he took off the entire weekend, actually— you two still decided to leave later in the day because you wanted to avoid as much unnecessary time with your parents as possible.
Unsurprisingly, you and Steve were the only people checking in at ten o’clock at night. 
“So, it looks like there are two rooms in the reservation,” The lady at the front desk told you; her name tag said Joan. “One under your name, and one under Steve Harrington.”
“Oh,” You said and then nodded after a second. “Um, okay.”
Joan seemed to take note of your slightly confused tone. “Did you not book two rooms?”
“My parents handled all of this, so I guess they did the two rooms.”
She nodded at your words. “I’m gonna go grab the room keys and I’ll be right back.”
She headed off to what you assumed was the back room and you turned to look at Steve who was standing right next to you. 
He let out a quiet laugh as his arm slipped around your waist. “Did your parents forget that we live together and that we've been dating for the last five months?”
“They probably think we still sleep in our own bedrooms,” You said, leaning into his touch and realizing just how tired you were. 
You truly couldn’t remember the last time you slept alone in the past few months since you and Steve got together, and even before that, you both had spent a lot of time in each other’s beds. It probably would’ve made sense for you two to downsize to a one-bedroom place, but you both loved the apartment so much that you couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. 
“Should I pretend that I’m actually staying in the other room?” Steve asked and you quickly nodded. 
“Yeah, just in case.”
“Bad idea that we decided to share a suitcase then, huh?”
When you came up with it, it seemed like the perfect idea for the quick weekend trip. Why bring two separate suitcases that would probably be half empty, instead of just sharing one? 
You sighed now as you took a look at the black suitcase that Steve was holding the handle of. “Very bad idea.”
Joan returned a moment later. “So, good news, the rooms are right next to each other, and they’re actually connecting, so you two won’t have to be too far from each other.”
“That’s great,” You said, grabbing one of the keys from her outstretched hand, and Steve grabbed the other. “Thank you so much.”
She smiled at you both. “I hope you two enjoy your stay.”
You and Steve said another quick “Thanks” before heading toward the elevators. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Your room is so much nicer than mine,” You said as you slumped back onto Steve’s bed, head quickly finding the pillow that was actually so soft. 
“Do you wanna switch?” He asked from where he stood by the suitcase, pulling on a fresh t-shirt for the night.
The door that connected your rooms was wide open and it would probably stay that way for the entire night. 
“No, it’s fine, I’ll deal with my shitty shower pressure and lumpy bed.”
“You can stay in here with me tonight, y’know,” He told you, moving closer and maneuvering so that he was settled on top of you. It was a comfortable position, even though it probably shouldn’t have been. The way your bodies molded so easily for each other always felt like two pieces of a puzzle coming together. 
You smiled under his gaze. “Thank you for the formal invitation.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Of course, no problem. I wanna be a gentleman.”
You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his words that were said very seriously, but you knew they were anything but. 
You could’ve easily fallen asleep just like that if you wanted to, with his warm body pressed so comfortably against yours, pretty much equivalent to a weighted blanket. And it would’ve made sense to fall asleep after the long drive you two had to endure, but you really didn’t want to.  
His head dipped down and yours tilted upward, allowing you two to meet halfway in the softest kiss. 
There was something about kissing Steve that always felt so nostalgic, and also the complete opposite. Even five months into everything, there was still a newness to being with Steve in this way that you’d probably never get fully used to. Every time felt like the first one, but there was also so much comfort that had been there from the beginning and it only continued to grow.  
After a moment that you considered way too short, he pulled away from your lips and his mouth started immediately trailing along the underside of your jaw and then down to your neck.  
You let out the softest hum as you shifted underneath him, searching for any sort of extra friction. Steve’s low groan was the first thing you heard when you brushed against his hardness and you wished that you could pull off the few layers that separated the two of you in one quick movement. 
“You still tired?” He mumbled against your neck.  
“Yes, but I also really want you right now,” You whispered back as you threaded your fingers through his hair, which was slightly damp from the shower he just took. The only pro about not sharing a room was that you both got your own bathroom, even if the water pressure in yours sucked.  
“Yeah?” He asked as he pulled back a bit to look at you. His voice was teasing, playful, but you also knew how much he loved the reassurance too. 
“Yeah,” You nodded immediately. “Please.”
There was the sweetest smile on his face as his fingers found the bottom of your t-shirt and proceeded to pull the fabric up and off of you. 
You had opted against putting on a bra after your shower, so your chest was left bare for him once your t-shirt was off and he was groaning at the sight. 
“You’re so fucking pretty,” He whispered as the pad of his thumb brushed against your already hard nipple.
For the briefest moment, your eyes slipped shut and you bit your lip to hold back your moan, and then you were meeting his gaze again. 
“You’re really pretty too, Stevie,” You said, smiling up at him as you reached up to softly poke his cheek. 
He laughed a little and turned his head a little so that he was kissing your poking finger. “Thank you. You’re so nice.” 
Your shoulders upturned in the most nonchalant shrug, but the same smile was on your face; you were always the one to bring a bit of silliness into moments like these. “I try.”
Steve was smiling back at you as he gave your nipple a quick squeeze and then his hands moved down your sides and settled at the waistband of your pajama bottoms. He pulled your shorts and underwear off in one motion and tossed them to the floor somewhere along with your shirt. 
He kissed from your collarbone down to your belly button, stopping and teasing different spots along the way which made you squirm beneath him and you could feel yourself dripping onto the blanket below you with every teasing press of his mouth. He moved lower and lower, and then deliberately skipped past where you needed him to be. Instead, he started kissing your inner thighs.
Your fingers carded through his hair as you looked down at him. “You’re being very evil right now.”
“I’m sorry,” He told you, but you knew that he really wasn’t. He spread your legs further and pressed the most featherlight kiss against your clit before looking up at you again. “What do you want?”
There were a lot of things you could’ve said in answer— in that moment, you were craving his fingers and his mouth too— but after the exhaustingly long drive, you simply just wanted to be as close to him as possible as quickly as possible. 
“Honestly, I really need you inside me,” You told him softly, hand moving from his hair to his cheek. “I need your cock. Please. Is that okay?”
He let out a contented groan at your honesty, head falling against the side of your thigh. “Fuck, yeah, of course that’s okay.” 
Steve moved away from you then, his warmth leaving your body as he pulled back to look at you. The juxtaposition of you being naked right then and him still being completely clothed, made you pout at him.  
“Well, this is very unfair,” You said, reaching out to grab at his shirt. 
Steve was smiling as he leaned in to press a quick kiss against your lips. “I knew you were going to say that.”
Before you could playfully complain any further, he pulled his shirt off and your fingers quickly moved to the waistband of his sweatpants. He let you pull them down along with his boxers, revealing his hard cock that you bit your lip at the sight of, and then Steve did the rest of the work of pulling them off his legs and tossing them somewhere to the side. 
When his body was once again on top of yours, his warmth enveloping you completely, he didn’t hesitate to push inside of you, your wetness making it easy for him to fill you to the hilt. 
Steve’s thrusts were languid and slow, both of you simply craved the feeling of each other rather than anything else. His lips found yours in the most searing kiss that was so different from his unhurried movements above you. It was a messy clash of tongues and teeth and one of your hands came up to tangle itself in his hair. 
You broke the kiss when a particularly rough stir of his hips made him push deeper inside of you and you gasped. “Shit, yes, Steve, right there.”
He hit that specific spot again and again and you were moaning louder each time, not worried about how thin the walls maybe were in this hotel. “You sound so pretty screaming for me, honey. You’re so fucking good.”
You nodded profusely, trying to keep your eyes on his, but it was too hard not to let them slip shut with every perfect snap of his hips. “Only for you.”
It didn’t take long for both of you to reach your ends— it was his thumb on your clit that triggered your orgasm, and it was the feeling of your walls clenching around him as you came that sent Steve over the edge too, pressing his face into your neck. 
A quiet stillness took over as your racing hearts returned to normal and a deeper tiredness took over and made your eyelids feel heavy. 
After you weren’t sure how long, Steve started to shift so that he could move off of you, but you stopped him with a hand on his back before his softening cock could slip out of you and told him that you wanted to stay like this for a bit longer. He didn’t protest your words and instead buried his face back in your neck, pressing the sweetest kiss against your pulse point. You two slowly fell asleep just like that for the time being, too spent and exhausted to make any other movements. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
If it weren’t for the incessant sound of someone knocking on the door, you were certain that you would’ve slept for a few more hours. 
The sound woke you up slowly and then all at once. Your eyes opened and you got the urge to pull the blanket over your head. You weren’t even sure when exactly that had happened, but at some point, you and Steve finally made it under the covers and you had also grabbed his t-shirt and slipped it on too. 
You ultimately didn’t pull the blanket over your head to muffle the noise. Instead, you pulled it off of you when you realized that the knocking was coming from your room. 
“Shit.” 
The door that connected your and Steve’s rooms was still open and you were suddenly so certain that the knocks you were hearing were being rapped against your room door. 
“What’s wrong?” Steve asked when he felt you get out of bed. He tiredly rubbed his eyes; you, on the other hand, were suddenly the complete opposite of tired. 
“I’m pretty sure my mom’s right outside my door. Or my dad. Or both,” You answered him as you quickly searched for your underwear and pajama shorts and found them in different random spots on the floor. “It’s probably both of them, actually, and I’ve had no time to mentally prepare for whatever this conversation is about to be.”
“I can go answer it, if you want,” You heard Steve suggest as you hastily pulled on your bottoms. 
“I think it would be better if we kept the illusion up that we don’t sleep together,” You told him. “I’m gonna go see what they want and I’ll be back in a sec.”
You rushed over to where he was now sitting up in the bed and pressed the quickest kiss against his lips before heading over to your room and pulling the door that connected your room to Steve’s shut.  
You ruffled up the untouched bed so it looked like you actually slept in it last night and then went to open the door before another series of knocks were rapped against it. 
“Hi, good morning, sorry,” You rushed out. It was only your mom standing in front of you, and right then it was hard to tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “The bed’s so comfortable, it was hard to wake up.”
She nodded at your words. “The bed in your dad and I’s room is terrible, we’re gonna try to switch to a different room tonight. Anyway, what time did you and Steve make it here last night?” 
“It was a little after ten.”
“And how was the drive?”
“Good,” You answered simply. “Me and Steve split the time so that made it easier.”
“That’s good,” She smiled. “Do you know if he’s still sleeping?”
“Um, yeah, he probably is,” You shrugged through your lie. “He’s right next door, but I haven’t seen him since last night.”
“Okay, well, your dad and I are going to have breakfast downstairs in an hour with your Aunt Tracy and Uncle Sean, you and Steve should come too.”
Her words sounded like a suggestion, but you knew that they were actually the opposite. 
You forced a smile. “Oh, okay, we’ll definitely meet you guys down there. I’ll go wake him up now.”
“Okay, great,” Your mom smiled back at you. “See you two then.”
You closed the door when she started walking away and headed back to Steve’s room. 
“So, what happened?” He asked as you climbed back into bed. 
You settled next to him and rested your head against his bare shoulder. “We’re having breakfast downstairs with my parents, and my aunt and uncle in an hour.”
Steve nodded at your statement. “Honestly, that sounds good. The last time we ate was right before we got here last night and it was shitty McDonald’s.”
“Yeah, those were the saddest burgers ever,” You said with a sigh. 
“Wait, which aunt is gonna be there?” Steve abruptly asked. “The nice one or the one that hates me?”
You laughed a little. “The nice one. But, I feel like I should remind you again that Cheryl does not hate you.”
“You don’t remember that party the way I do,” He said and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his seriousness. 
It had been a birthday party for your mom a few years back. Of course, Steve and his parents were there, and you and him spent most of the night camping out in your room, away from your mom’s friends and your overbearing family members. It had been your idea to sneak a bottle of wine from the kitchen and bring it to your room, but Steve was the one who actually went and did it. Or at least attempted to before he got caught by your aunt and, according to him, was harshly scolded by her. 
“I’ve seen her a bunch of times since that party and I promise you she doesn’t think you’re a bad influence on me or whatever,” You told Steve, lifting your head from his shoulder to press a kiss against his cheek. “And she definitely doesn’t hate you.”
“We’ll see what happens at the wedding later.”
You leaned in to whisper into his ear. “Don’t worry, if she does hate you, I’ll defend you from any and all shitty comments.”
He gave you an amused smile when you pulled back to look at him. “Thank you, that’s all I ask. You’re the best girlfriend ever.”
You smiled at him as you leaned your head back on his shoulder and closed your eyes, attempting to get a little more sleep before you’d have to force yourself out of bed again. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Steve was right and he didn’t hesitate to whisper an “I told you” in your ear seconds after your Aunt Cheryl gave a warm greeting to you and the coldest hello to him. 
You didn’t have time to respond to Steve’s whispered words because you two were being told by one of the ushers to find seats since the wedding was minutes away from starting. The weather was pretty much perfect; warm but not so much so that it made sitting outside entirely unbearable, which was a little surprising for the middle of August but you weren’t complaining. 
Steve was on one side of you and your parents were on the other, and you smiled in thanks when your mom complimented the dress you were wearing; the long pale pink floral dress that you bought only because you knew she would like it, and you had wanted to avoid her saying anything bad about your clothing choices like she usually did. 
About halfway through the ceremony, Steve’s hand found yours, and the simple action made you suddenly feel warm all over. You shouldn’t have felt so fazed by it— that was something that had happened practically a million times before— but the current circumstances made it feel a little different. 
Samantha was one of your cousins that you weren’t that close with— you remembered going to the sleepover for her fifth birthday party and that was one of the last times you two hung out before you and your family moved to Indiana, and then you only saw her during random family occasions— but she looked beautiful and seemed so genuinely happy that it was hard not to feel a little emotional; it was what weddings did to people. 
You tried to listen to the vows and everything else being said right then, but it was hard to fully focus when all you could think about was a future that would someday involve this with Steve, and how nice that sounded. 
Maybe Steve could suddenly read your mind or the subtle smile on your face, but either way, he was giving your hand a light squeeze, as if telling you that he agreed with everything you were thinking about. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
To probably no one’s surprise, you and Steve stayed attached at the hip throughout the majority of the night. Your hand was always laced in his or his was placed at the small of your back. 
You were grateful for that closeness and you were especially grateful for him because he made it a thousand times easier to deal with family members that you hadn’t seen in forever and the forced small talk that came along with that estrangement. 
It quickly became a revolving door of the same topics and questions— how was graduating last year, how is college going now, what are your future plans, etc, etc— and you thought you’d be able to put up with it for the entire night. However, there were only so many times you could say, “Fine,” “Good,” and “I’m still figuring it out” before it became too annoying. 
Therefore, the second the brief conversation with one of your uncles came to an end, your hand found Steve’s and you led him out of the big ballroom where the reception was happening. He didn’t question your current antics and you two ended up outside moments later— it was much cooler out now, but still comfortable— and you headed toward a little garden area with a bench that you had noticed earlier. 
 “Let’s just sit here for a bit,” You said to Steve, not explaining the why behind you wanting to do this right now, but you didn’t have to. 
He nodded, understanding just how exhausting this entire day had been for you, and sat down with you. Things fell into a comfortable quiet, the first silence all night, and you reveled in it. You shifted around after a few moments so your head was in his lap and your legs dangled off the side of the bench.
“Do you wanna leave? I think we’ve been here for a reasonable amount of time,” Steve said, breaking the quiet after a few minutes of you simply holding his hand and looking at all of the flowers in the garden. “We can go to that Dairy Queen we saw when we were driving here last night, if you want. I think it’s only like ten minutes away.”
You knew what he was trying to do— make things light in any way that he could, and in this case, it meant offering up ice cream— and once again you were reminded of just how fucking grateful you were to have him here with you in this moment.  
“I love you,” You said instead of answering his question. “Like, a lot, a lot, a lot.”
You immediately noticed the smile spread across his face as he looked down at you. “Hm, you’re not drunk right now, so where is this sappiness coming from?” 
“Shh, don’t question it. Just let me get disgustingly cheesy with you right now, Harrington.”
“Okay, sorry, continue,” He told you, but then he abruptly kept going before you could start talking. “And I love you too, by the way.”
You smiled up at him. “Aside from all of the family stuff I had to deal with today, this wedding was actually really nice and it made me think about you and us a lot.”
“In a good way or a bad way?” He was so obviously teasing you because you were certain that he knew the answer to his own question.  
You shook your head at him. “I don’t even want to dignify that insane question with a response.”
He laughed a bit as he pulled your intertwined hands up and pressed a soft kiss to the back of yours, and it was hard not to smile at the action.  
“This entire day made me realize that when we eventually, one day down the road, do this, I don’t want it to be anything like this,” You told him. 
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want all of this huge fanfare and I don’t want a bunch of people that I don’t ever talk to, to be there either. If we just have the kids, and Robin and Eddie, and Nancy and Jonathan too. Oh, and Harold, of course. That’s more than enough for me. Is that okay? Does that even make sense?” You looked up at him to see if he understood what you meant, and of course he did. He always did. 
Steve nodded immediately. “That sounds perfect, honestly.” 
“I know that probably won’t be able to happen because of how involved our moms are gonna want to be with everything, but I just think the thought is nice,” You said with a halfhearted shrug. 
“We can do a small thing with just everyone that we want to be there and then let our moms take the reins on the huge fancy thing that they’ll force us to do.”
“God, you’re so smart,” You said and you wanted to sit up so that you could kiss him— you’d been craving it all night, actually— but you felt too comfortable to move right then. “So, is this a proposal, Steven?”
You were the one doing the teasing now, a smile playing on your lips as you looked up at him and he looked down and met your eyes again. 
He shook his head as he smiled at you. “Give me some time to plan the most elaborate one ever.”
“Take all the time you need,” You told him, and you genuinely meant that. In your eyes, there wasn’t any rush to get to that place. Even though you loved talking about the future with him, you didn't feel the need to make it happen before it was meant to. You two were already happy and in love and you felt so certain that that would never change, so you felt content being in this place with him. “Thank you again for coming with me to this, by the way.”
He lightly poked your side, making you let out the quietest breath of a laugh, before speaking. “You know I’d never say no to you.”
“Aw, I love it when you also get sappy with me,” You sat up then and finally leaned in to slot your lips against his. You hummed in contentment the second he eagerly reciprocated the kiss and your hand instinctually moved to the nape of his neck as you pushed yourself closer to him. 
You savored the moment for as long as you could before you had to pull away to take a breath. “Okay, now let’s get out of here and get ice cream.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
414 notes · View notes
illusioninfnty · 1 year ago
Text
is this seat taken? ↠ day 4 ; cockwarming
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
↠ "red haired" shanks x reader
fandom: one piece word count: 1k warnings: nsfw 18+, public sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie
kinktober m.list || read on ao3
Tumblr media
“Another round on me, little lady!”
Pirates swarm Partys Bar as you scramble to serve everyone at once. Makino occasionally requested your help whenever she knew it would get busy, and each time you happily obliged. However, the pirate crew was rowdier than usual today, and it seemed as though you couldn’t catch a break.
“I’ll be right with you!” You call out to the pirate as you rush to sweep up some broken glass that was dropped by one of the piss-ass drunk crew members. 
As you pass by, you feel a calloused hand skim the back of your ass. You don’t even have to look behind you to know exactly who it belongs to—Shanks.
You and Shanks have done some things in the past, mostly involving him dragging you away to fuck you when he was pumped up on adrenaline from his time at sea.
You ignore his advances this time, too focused on trying to cater to all of his crew. But the second time you’re forced to pass him, serving more rounds of whiskey to his men, he wraps an arm around the back of your thighs and pulls you towards him.
“Shanks!” You gasp. He paws at your ass from his seat on the stool, kneading the soft flesh as laughs at your surprised expression. “I’m supposed to be working!”
He rolls his eyes. “Makino doesn’t even pay you. Take a break with me.”
You finally comply, silently agreeing that you were working way harder than you wanted to be. Makino was busy with patrons at the other side of the bar, and most of the pirates that you were catering to were either passed out or too drunk to comprehend anything.
Shanks settles you into his lap as he brings his lips to yours. He cups your face with hand as you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into him. His warmth envelopes you as you play with the ends of his hair while he caresses your backside.
“I want to try something,” Shanks mumbles into your neck as you pull away for some air.
You hum, encouraging him to continue.
“Let me put my cock in you.”
You freeze. Out of all the things he could have said, that was the last thing on your mind.
“Shanks, we’re in public! In—in front of your crew!” You whisper through clenched teeth and look around frantically, hoping no one heard him.
He sighs, a crease forming between his brow. “Not like that. I’m not going to fuck you now. Just…let it rest in there.” He starts to trail kisses down your neck. “It’ll feel good for both of us.”
“But what if they see?” you ask shakily, your hands grasping onto his broad shoulders for support.
Shanks grabs your chin and turns your head to face him. “C’mon, babe. Everyone’s already slurring their speech. They won’t be able to remember anything come tomorrow morning. And if they do, then they just know you belong to me.”
You bite your lip, chewing on it as you get lost in thought. His words had a wave of heat surging through your body, but you still had to think rationally about what you were about to do. It was risky, but it may just be worth it.
“Alright,” you confirm. Shanks grins heartily, smile lines becoming prominent around his eyes. You move your body so that it covers his front, and you start to slowly remove his cock from their breaches. Through his pants you can already feel how hard he was, pulsing through the material.
You pull your skirt up slightly and push your underwear to the side. You dip your fingers inside yourself, not surprised to feel that you were already wet. You lower yourself onto Shanks as he hisses, his cock throbbing as you slowly guide him inside of you.
Fully seated on his lap now, you adjust your skirt so that it covers where the two of you remain connected. 
“There we go,” he soothes. “Nice and full, huh?” You whine and give him a curt nod, trying to stop your body from reacting from the amount of pleasure surging through it at that moment. No one seems to notice what the two of you were doing, but it still sends a thrill down your spine.
You continue to kiss him as you clench down onto cock. He groans at the sensation, pleasing you even more. Shanks runs his hand down to your lower stomach, stroking the area.
“You feel me in there?”
His large hand continues to rub circles in the area, pressing down in spots that make you gasp. You can feel him in there—so much more than usual, now that he’s not pumping in and out. It feels more intimate with him like this, and you lean into his chest as your walls continue to tighten.
You begin to shift ever-so-slightly on top of Shanks and arch into him as he groans into your lips and stills your hips with his hand. “You’re killing me, baby.” 
You laugh, and your pussy clenches around him even more. 
“Won’t be able to last any longer,” he pants and burrows his face into your neck.
“Good,” you tease, smirking as you see his eyes heat up. His cock pulsates, and his orgasm is silent, the only indicator being the clench of his jaw and the slight quiver in his brow.
“Hey, I need some help over here!” Makino’s voice rings throughout the bar, and suddenly you’re brought back to reality, remembering just exactly where you were and what kind of situation you were in. You remove yourself from Shanks’ lap, shuddering at the sudden heat from him leaving your body.
“Coming!” You say, slapping Shanks in the leg as he snickers behind you.
You adjust your skirt, ignoring the cum that starts to leak out of you as you scurry to help Makino with the bar patrons. The whole time, you can feel Shanks’ eyes follow you.
Tumblr media
5K notes · View notes
motorsportbarbie13 · 3 months ago
Text
The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - The Hardest Two Years
In which your relationship with Max is put to the test and you pass with flying colors.
Warnings: this one is heavy at the beginning. Mentions of miscarriages (no active miscarriage on the page, but discussions of them). pregnancy. babies. labor. preemie/NICU baby briefly mentioned. anxiety. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 5k words
- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 4 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Bonus Sessions - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Royal Wedding - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Wedding Night
(a note: whewwwwww this one has been such a labor of love. i hope you all have enjoyed reading this as much as i loved creating it!!!)
October 2026 Austin, Texas
TheYappingHour posted
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
293,202 likes liked by maxverstappen1, assistantshannon, christianhorner, and others. theyappinghour We're back babies!! It's been a wild year for us here at The Yapping Hour but we're so pleased to bring you a brand new interview featuring Red Bull Strategist Hannah Schmitz. I first met Hannah when Max and I were first dating and she spent countless hours answering my (often silly) questions with the utmost patience. I love talking to women in motorsport, especially women like Hannah that are sitting on pit wall with the rest of the boys. We talk glass ceilings, what it's like to be work in a male dominated field, and what it took to get where she is today on the episode. It is def not one to miss!! hannahschmitzengineer thanks for having me on, lady!! Love having you around the track more now. xo user9928 hannah gives me such good vibes. i love her sm. user011 so we're just going to ignore how @/yourpersonalinsta just ghosts for how many months after eloping, claiming she's suddenly 'too sick to work' while galavanting all over the globe with Max??? >>>user0028 I knew she was a gold digger this entire time but NOOOOO. No one wanted to listen to me! user1145 its totally fine if you just want to live that WAG life girl but be honest with us. And yourself. Marrying rich was always her goal, wasn't it? >>>user0090 ding ding ding!!
"Thank you again for coming on the show, Hannah! We get so many questions about women in motorsport so I know this episode is going to be so well received." You reach out your arms towards the strategy engineer, enveloping her in a hug. 
Hannah hugs you right back, giving you an extra squeeze. The two of you have always got on really well and you were happy that she had agreed to come on for an episode. It had been a rough year so far, so having an exciting episode to edit and put out was something that you were looking forward to. 
"Thanks for having me! We all miss your episodes in the garage. Everyone was excited to hear that you'd be back for at least one episode." She gives you a sad smile. Hannah is one of the few people that know the real reason behind your absence on socials this year. 
"It feels good to be back. Hopefully I'll be able to do some more things in the last bit of the year. I have a few things in the works." You give her the most positive smile you can muster but it's hard with the waves of nausea that started to roll through you in the last few moments. 
You barely hold it together as you walk Hannah out of the studio that you'd rented in downtown Austin ahead of the US Grand Prix this weekend. Max was back at the track finishing up some media duties but once you finish up with Shannon at the studio, you're going to head back to see him. 
Inside the studio, Shannon is working on packing up once you return from walking Hannah out. "Can you do me a favor?" You ask, voice hesitant. 
Shannon's head snaps up at the anxiety she can hear in your words. You two have been working together so closely for so long, you can both communicate with minimal looks and words now. She can read your mood almost as well as Max can. "Everything okay boss?" 
"Could you swing by the pharmacy before going back to the hotel and pick me up some..." You pause, needing a moment to work your tongue around the next words. "pregnancy tests." Your heart hammers in your chest. 
Shannon blinks at you, hesitant smile on her lips. "Of course." She says softly before reaching out to cup your elbow with a gentle hand. "You feeling okay?" 
Chuckling, you shake your head, "My lunch nearly made a reappearance when Hannah hugged me just now, which is weird because we wear the same perfume sometimes and that's what set me off." 
The moment that wave of nausea hit you, you had started counting back the weeks in your mind since your last period. You had instantly known because it was the kind of math you'd been doing for almost a year now, since getting your IUD out. 
What a year it had been. 
"I'd do it myself but there's a lot of media out this weekend and I've already been papped. There's already so much negative coverage out there, I don't want to give more fuel to the fire." 
Back in June you had made the difficult decision to put production on The Yapping Hour on hold for the near future, citing health issues. Most of your fans had been supportive but there had been a lot of backlash about how you were a gold digger and were only with Max for his money. People saw you traveling a lot with Max and assumed the 'health issues' were a cop out and that you were just lazy. Everyone in your inner circle knew it was absolutely untrue but the lies perpetuated by accounts like Deux Moi the F1 gossip accounts still stung. 
This year had shaped up to be the most challenging year for both you and Max, personally and professionally. With only a handful of races to go, Max was sitting solidly in second place in the drivers championship, behind a white hot Lando Norris who'd won 8 races already this year. While Max was still able to keep the fight going, the car had continued to deteriorate this year and even Mad Max could barely keep it on the road some weekends. It had been the hardest season of his entire career. 
Despite all the difficulties, both personal and professional, you and Max were stronger than ever. There hadn't been any other choice after you what you had gone through together. The 'health issues' that you had cited earlier in the year had actually been the three miscarriages you had suffered back to back to back since getting married in December. Through it all, the doctors appointments, the late nights spent sobbing in pain, the terror tinged excitement at each 'positive' test, Max had been there for you. He was an unwavering and unmoving well of support for you in the darkest of hours. 
Shannon's eyes go watery as she tugs at your hand. "Oh, mama..." 
You chuckle darkly, "Not a mom yet, Shan." 
Shannon shakes her head, "Yes you are. Those three precious babies were yours and will always be yours." 
Tears sting at the back of your eyes as you walk out of the studio still holding your assistant's hand. You knew she was right. You still felt that constant ache and connection to the babies you had lost, even the first one that you had lost at just four weeks when it was barely more than a bunch of cells. The anxiety that courses through you as you get in the back seat of the car that Max had sent for you is so overwhelming you nearly ask Shannon to stay with you. 
"I'll go get that stuff from the pharmacy then I'll drop them off at your room, okay? It'll be okay, boss." Shannon says warmly before shutting the door of the black SUV. 
All you can do is nod in response, hoping she's right. 
Tumblr media
Hours later, you stand with your hands braced on the vanity in your hotel room. Max is caught at the track still, needing to meet with the engineering team for a bit longer than expected so you're left alone in the room just staring down at the box Shannon delivered to your door. 
There's a flood of mixed emotions swirling all together in your stomach as you look at the small white stick starting back at you tauntingly. You had wanted to wait for Max but at this point, you didn't know when he'd be back and you hadn’t been able to wait any longer. You'd been through this so many times this year and had seen that little plus sign three times already, all ending with heartbreak and pain. You weren't sure if you'd be able to survive another one. But at the same time, you had to know. 
Max opens the door to your shared hotel room quietly, wanting to surprise you by coming back early and taking you to dinner. You're not where he expected to see you though, snuggled up on the bed watching Netflix. 
The bathroom door is thrown open and he hears muffled sniffling floating out, sending his anxiety through the roof. After the year you've had, anything that's got you upset sends him off the deep end. He finds you leaning over the counter staring at something. Max stops in the doorway for a moment, watching your body language. Your hair is tied up in a messy bun and you're wearing nothing but one of his old sweatshirts that's seen better days. The tattered sleeves fall over your wrists, only allowing your fingers to peek out. He can barely see your wedding ring peaking out from the navy sweatshirt and for a moment, his mood shifts. Here you were, nearly a year later and he still gets love struck seeing you wearing his ring. His wife. It still stopped him in his tracks when he realized how lucky he was to have you and how lucky you both had been to survive this year so far. 
“Liefje?” He murmurs, leaning against the door frame. He doesn't want to scare you, so he keeps his distance at first. "Everything okay?" 
You startle a bit, hand flying to your throat when you gasp in surprise. "Max!" You breathe, eyes swimming with tears that haven't had a chance to fall yet. "I...I don't know." 
Max crosses the tiled floor, the cold biting into his feet through his socks. "Hey, what's got you so upset baby? Shhh..." He takes you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. You relish the warmth, your body having gone stone cold after seeing the results of the test you hadn't been able to wait for Max to take. 
"I nearly threw up after hugging Hannah today even though she was wearing one of my favorite perfumes." You tell him, nearly chuckling when he looks at you utterly confused. Extracting yourself from his grasp, you reach behind for the test and hold it up so he can see it.
"I'm pregnant, Max." 
The strangled sob that you choke out nearly takes Max to the ground. He folds you into his arms again, rocking you back and forth as you shake like a leaf. The miscarriages had been so hard on you, each one more difficult than the last. The memory of you, curled up on the bed when you had started bleeding during the third one, while you wailed about your body betraying you and how you were broken, hits him like a truck. He'd give anything to make this pain stop for you, to take away the fear and anguish that he can feel rolling off of you in waves. 
"Shhhh, schatje." He soothes, knowing that nothing he could possibly say will quell the terror you're feeling right now. 
"I can't lose another baby, Max. I can't. It’ll destroy me.” The only thing you wanted to do was protect this little life that was inside you right now, bits of you and bits of Max combined to make an entirely new human. You’d been here three times before and you’d failed. Your body had failed to keep the baby inside you safe and you didn’t know if it was going to happen again. The doctors had been baffled after every loss, telling you that there wasn’t any rhyme or reason to it, that sometimes losses happened and there wasn’t anything that could have been done about it. There hadn’t been any genetic abnormalities in any of the samples they’d taken, hadn’t been anything that you had done to make you lose the pregnancies. No, it had been completely and utterly random that your body just hadn’t been able to make a pregnancy stick. 
You’d never felt more like a failure. 
“My love, it will be okay. We’ll get through this, I promise.” Max wanted to tell you that you wouldn’t lose this baby either. He wanted more than anything to tell you that but the words wouldn’t come. He couldn’t tell you that because he didn’t know if it was true and telling you something that might turn out to not be true killed him. “We will always get through these things together, no matter what happens.” 
You pull back out of Max’s chest, needing to lose yourself in those icy blue eyes you were so obsessed with. You knew, deep down, that he was right. Max had been your constant source of support since the day you met him. You had no reason to doubt him and knew that he would get you through this even if you lost this baby too but that didn’t stop the fear from wrapping it’s sharp, cold fingers around your throat. “I’m so scared.” You whisper. 
Max runs a hand over the top of your head before framing your face. Brushing the pad of his thumb over your cheek, he smiles down at you. “I know.” He admits, knowing that you need to know that he’s in this with you right now and that you’re on the same page. “I am too, but like I said, we’ll get through this. We’ve got to make a plan, sitting here crying is just going to make your anxiety worse, okay?” 
You nod, grinning when he laces his fingers with yours to pull you out into the main part of the hotel room. He leads you over to the bed where he sits before patting his lap, inviting you to sit between his legs. With your back pressed to his chest, you snuggle into him as deeply as you can, enjoying the way his arms snake around you to clasp together over your tummy. “I’ll call Greg in the morning and have the jet take you back to Monaco and you can have Shannon make you an appointment with Dr. Mallkin. I’m sure he’ll get you in as soon as possible.” 
You freeze. “No, Max.” You protest, heart thrumming in your throat from the panic. “No, I don’t want to leave you. Not now. What if I lose it again and I’m half way around the world from you? Please, I don’t want to leave you.” You know you sound pathetic, begging like a scared little girl but you can’t help it. The thought of being alone in your apartment in Monaco while Max finished this triple header to Mexico and then Brazil sent frigid shivers of fear zinging through your veins. 
Max tucks his head into the crook of your neck, mouthing at the warm skin there. “Shhh…Okay, Schatje. You don’t have to go back to Monaco but you absolutely can’t come to Mexico and Brazil with me. The travel and stress won’t be good for you, you know that.” 
You both sit in silence for a few moments, each contemplating what can be done. There was no way you were going to go back to Monaco right now but you also knew that traveling down to Mexico and then Brazil wouldn’t be good for you or the baby and you desperately needed this baby to stick. 
“What if we flew you to your parents up in California?” Max suggests, breaking the silence first. “You could go spend a few weeks with them, get in to see a doctor up there to just check and make sure everything looks okay and then when I’m done in Brazil, I’ll fly to get you and we can go back to Monaco together? We have a three week break after Brazil so you won’t be alone for a bit.” 
The thought of going back to your childhood home for a few weeks was immensely appealing. “And then maybe I could do Qatar and Abu Dhabi with you to finish out the year if everything is good and Dr. Mallkin gives me the okay?” 
Max is quiet, not wanting to agree to any more travel than absolutely necessary but when your head swivels around to look at him, pleading look on your face, he caves. “If Dr. Mallkin gives you the okay, we can do that.” 
Tumblr media
Monaco May, 2027
yourpersonalinsta posted
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
yourpersonalinsta we've been hiding a little secret. baby verstappen due in july and we couldn't be more excited. (tagged: maxverstappen1) kikagomes ahhhhh i can finally talk about this in real life!! so excited for you bestieeeee >>>yourpersonalinsta love you!! user0029 ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! baby verstappen incoming! user0445 july?! oh my god, they hid this for so long! user442 omg that's why she hasn't been at races this year! bet all those assholes predicting a divorce feel like assholes now redbullracing already have the mini f1 car in the garage for baby verstappen!!
33 weeks. You had made it pas the danger zone. That little tiny bean in your belly had dug itself in so deep that you hadn’t lost this baby, much to your delight and surprise. Those early weeks you had spent with your parents in California had been some of the scariest days of your life. Every time you went to the bathroom you had expected to see blood everywhere. But it had never come. When Max had finished with Mexico and Brazil, he had flown to get you before taking you back home. The rest of the season panned out exactly like you had expected: Lando had won his first world championship with Max finishing a close second. 
A few weeks into winter break, Max had approached you one afternoon while you lounged on the couch in your Monaco apartment. There would be no long distance travel for you this winter break due to the precarious state of your pregnancy. You had been cleared to go to Qatar and Abu Dhabi to see the rest of the season pan out, but after that, Dr. Mallkin had effectively grounded you. ‘I want to retire’ was the bomb Max had dropped on you that afternoon. You had been silent for several minutes, letting the implications of his statement sink in before you had been able to respond. If there was one thing that drove you insane about Max was how he was always threatening to retire despite being absolutely awful at sitting still and relaxing so you had never taken his whinging seriously. Until that afternoon. 
In the end, after several hours of discussion and back and forth, you had convinced Max to give it one more season. He couldn’t let his career end on such a low note, losing out on his sixth championship. He had wanted to retire to spend more time with you and the baby but you knew he’d be restless and that he wasn’t ready to retire just yet. In the end, you had come up with a compromise: he’d race for the 2027 season and you and the baby would travel with him for the second half of the season so he wouldn’t miss any of the big milestones. You were due sometime in July, which was perfect timing. If everything worked out, you’d have the baby right around the summer break and by the time racing started back up in Belgium, you’d be ready to take the baby on the road. 
But in the end, it didn’t end up working out like that. 
The Monaco Grand Prix was one of your favorite weekends, even if Max hated it. He didn’t like how busy the city became. Hated how loud and noisy the streets were. Secretly hated the track due to how difficult it was to actually race and overtake, despite dominating the track in recent years.
Earlier in the week, you had finally shared the news of your pregnancy on social media, having waited until you were nearly full term before breathing even a word of it to anyone outside of your inner circle. You had stopped traveling to races weeks ago and your presence had been wildly noted all over the gossip accounts, some even going so far as to start rumors that you and Max were already divorced. So imagine everyone’s surprise when you posted the photos of your belly gently covered by Max’s hands. People went wild. 
Sunday morning, you’re in Red Bull hospitality sitting with Liam’s girlfriend Hannah and Kika while Max is in the garage getting prepped for the race in a few hours. During last year’s silly season, there had been some major reshuffling of the teams and Pierre had been welcomed back into the Red Bull stables as Max’s teammate. Liam was still driving for VCARB alongside Franco Colopinto who had taken the second seat after Yuki had left to join Aston Martin this season. 
Your left hand sits lightly on your ever expanding belly as you listen to Kika gush about Pierre proposing last week during the little break the grid had had when something that feels like an electric shock snaps across your stomach. “Oh.” You gasp, sitting up a bit straighter in your chair. 
Hannah immediately clocks the pain that streaks across your face and reaches for your hand. “Are you okay?” 
The pain takes your breath away momentarily but as quick as it comes on, it’s gone. A few deep breaths and everything rights itself. “Yeah, just some ligament pain or something. My doctor said now that I’m further on I could start getting Braxton Hicks but that it wasn’t a huge deal as long as they’re not steady or coming in regular intervals.”
“If it happens again, I’m telling Max.” Kika says, face full of worry. Since Pierre’s resigning with Red Bull, the two of you had gotten closer and she was one of your best friends now. You knew she’d 100% tattle on you to Max, who had turned into an even more intense mother hen the closer you got to the end of your pregnancy. 
“Oh, that’ll go over well.” You roll your eyes. “He’ll flat out refuse to race even if they’re just false labor pains. Mouth shut, Kiks.” You order, raising a brow in challenge. 
Kika just rolls her eyes back at you, folding her arms over her chest. “Fine.” 
Everything goes back to normal for the next few hours. You sit in the Red Bull hospitality with Shannon, Kika, and Hannah by your side to watch the race, not having near enough energy to stand in the garages for the race. Max had started P2 but had managed to pass Lando somewhere on lap 15 and had been in the lead ever since. 
And then, suddenly, all hell breaks loose. 
“Fuck.” You hiss, clutching at your stomach as Max starts the last 15 laps of the race. 
Kika’s head whips towards you, panic in her eyes. “What?” 
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck.” You mutter, standing up to look at the puddle you’ve left in the black plastic chair. “I think my water just broke.” 
“What?!” Kika shrieks, causing the entirety of the hospitality suite to turn their heads in unison to look at you. “What?” She whispers a second time, just as urgent but quieter this time. 
“I think I’m in labor.” You work to keep the fear out of your voice but you fail. You’re not full term yet, you can’t be going into labor. This baby needed to stay cooking for a few more weeks. Panic strangles you as Hannah reaches for your hand. A sharp, shooting pain has you crying out, once again drawing attention to your little table. “Oh fuck, I think I’m in labor. I’m only 33 weeks Hannah, I can’t be in labor.” 
The pain of your three miscarriages comes charging back, terror flooding your system at the thought of losing a forth baby, this one so far into your pregnancy. The kicks, the hiccups, everything has made this pregnancy so much more real. You didn’t think you’d survive another loss.  
Hannah, who just finished her first year of medical school, squeezes your hand. “Good news is, 33 weeks is viable out of the womb but we should still get to the hospital. Little dude is going to be a bit on the small side.” 
“Oh for fucks sakes.” You groan, knowing Max is going to lose his shit. He’d been worried about this exact scenario more than you cared to think about. His orders had always been to have GP or Christian tell him over the radio if you ever went into labor during a race and he’d stop right then and there. 
“There’s only 15 laps to go.” You glance up at the TV screen above you. “Okay, 14 now. I’m not leaving until he’s out of that car and we’re not saying a word to him until he’s taken the checkered flag.” You stare pointedly at Kika, who had leapt out of her chair when you had declared you were in labor, presumably to go straight to the garage and tattle on you. 
“You most certainly are not waiting until he’s finished to leave, are you insane?” Hannah whispers, trying to avoid drawing even more attention to you. “I’m going to find a car to take us to the hospital, which should be interesting considering half the city is shut down. We might need an ambulance.” 
“I am not leaving the paddock in an ambulance!” You gasp as another contraction hits you, stealing your breath from your lungs. 
“You’re not going to have a choice.” Hannah turns to Shannon. “Can you go to the garage and tell GP that she’s in labor and that the moment he’s out of that car, he needs to get his ass to the hospital. Kika, stay here with her and try to keep her calm.” 
While the drama is unfolding in the hospitality building, Max is working on winning his fourth race of the season, the car feeling better than it has all season. When Hannah finally finds a medical official, telling him that there’s a woman in pre-term labor that needs to get to the hospital immediately, Max crosses the finish line in P1. 
GP immediately comes on the radio. “Max, we need you in right now, no cool down lap.” 
“What? What’s wrong?” Confusion plays at the edge of his voice as he starts towards the pits on the other side of the track. 
In the garage, GP glances at Shannon, who shakes her head. “Just get to the garage now, okay?” 
In his gut, he knows it’s about you. He knows instantly just by the sound of GP’s voice. Something’s wrong, he can feel it in every nerve ending of his body. “Is she okay?” 
“She’s okay for now.” 
Relief floods Max’s system as he desperately tries to get back to the garages without hitting anything or anyone, which is proving to be very difficult. All he can think about is you and getting to you as fast as possible. Was it the baby? He had known it was a bad idea for you to be out in the paddock today. Had thought there was too much excitement and activity for you to be out and he was kicking himself for allowing you to be here even though deep down, he knew that you would have been here no matter what. He just hoped he didn’t regret agreeing to it. 
Shannon goes to Max first and explains everything. How your water had broken with 15 laps to go. How Hannah had found an ambulance to take you across town to the hospital. How you were probably already there, Kika and Hannah both riding along with you in the ambulance so you weren’t alone. How you were scared but putting on a brave face for everyone, which Max thought was very typical of you. 
Christian sidles up to Max next. “There’s a car waiting for you with a police escort to Princess Grace Hospital. That’s where they took her. Go, we’ll take care of any FIA fines or hubbub.” 
Max doesn’t need to be told twice before taking off, still sweaty in his race suit. As he’s racing out of the garage, Shannon calls after him. He pauses, despite not wanting to but grins when she holds out a bag for him. “Thought you might want a change of clothes for when you get to the hospital.” 
Max snags the bag out of her hands before giving her a warm smile. “Thanks, Shan.” 
“Now go! Your wife is having a baby!” 
Tumblr media
There’s a reverent hush that blankets the NICU in the middle of the night. The floor is near empty, only one other baby in the little clear covered crib besides your baby. It’s been hours since you gave birth but you’re finally up and out of bed, sitting in the wheelchair Max brought for you in your room moments ago. 
“The doctor says he’s a fighter.” Max murmurs, hand clasped on your shoulder. 
Tears burn before spilling down your cheeks as you take in the baby in front of you. He’s only 33 weeks and a tiny little wisp of a baby, but the pediatrician that was on call when you came in is confident that he’ll be okay with some extra attention that being in the NICU will bring. “He’s so small.” You whisper, reaching up to grasp at Max’s hand. 
Max had gotten to the hospital just in time. Kika and Hannah had been at the head of your bed when he had burst into the hospital room just as you had been feeling the need to start pushing. He had been white as a ghost, paler than you’d ever seen him but the moment you laid eyes on him, you had burst into tears. “Max.” You sobbed as Kika and Hannah discreetly showed themselves out of the birthing suite. They had stayed in the waiting room for the next several hours though, neither wanting to leave before knowing how you and the baby were doing. 
Like he had been doing since the moment he walked into your life, Max had never left your side and had been the single source of strength you had drawn on during the entire labor process. Everything moved so quickly you hadn’t had a chance to even ask for an epidural so you had labored completely naturally. In the end, it hadn’t really mattered because your labor had progressed so quickly Dr. Mallkin had barely had time to get his scrubs on before the baby was crowning. 
“What are we going to call him?” Max asks, staring down at the tiny baby boy. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he had come so early and that he was now a dad. It terrified him just as much as it thrilled him. He was so proud of you as well, the entire labor process something that he had to just sit back and watch in awe. If Max hadn’t thought that you were the stronger one in the relationship before, he most certainly thought it now. 
“I like the name Theodore.” You say, reaching out to brush your fingers on the clear plastic that held your tiny cherub of a baby. “Theo for short.” 
Max’s heart gave a squeeze. “It’s perfect. What about Theo Nicholas.” 
Your head whips around to stare at your husband. “Nicholas? Like, my dad Nicholas?” 
“I think it suits the little guy well, don’t you? And I like the idea of him carrying on your dad’s name. One of the greatest men I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing.” 
Now you were really sobbing. The fact that it had been Max to suggest giving his son your dad’s name for a middle name created this soft, gooey center in your stomach. “I love you so much, Max.” You say, choking back another sob. 
Max leans down, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he watches the son you’ve given him sleep peacefully. “I love you too, schatje. I love you both.” 
maxverstappen1 posted
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1,208,391 likes liked by yourdad, yourpersonalinsta, kikagomes, and others maxverstappen1 baby boy couldn't wait until july to make his grand entrance. tiny verstappen is here and life couldn't be better. forever in awe of you @/yourpersonalinsta. being a momma looks good on you, schatje. love you forever. yourpersonalinsta love you more, maxie. you're already the worlds best dad to theo. >>>user9383 THEO??? that is the cutest name >>>user2993 they're literally life goals oh my GODDDDD charlesleclerc congratulations friend!! gorgeous family you've got there. redbullracing love seeing max in his dad era!
yourpersonalinsta posted
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1,598,019 likes liked by maxverstappen1, hannahstjohn, assistantshannon, and others yourpersonalinsta welcome to the world theodore nicholas verstappen. you are already so loved, baby boy. (tagged: maxverstappen1) maxverstappen1 my 2 favorite people on this planet. you're already such an amazing mother, baby. love you to the ends of time. >>>user458 i'm sobbing hannahstjohn he is the cutest little turkey ever. i am so in love with him! congrats mama!!! >>>yourpersonalinsta thank you for forcing me into that ambulance otherwise we could have had a paddock baby on our hands >>>user0938 this is such f1 lore, i love it
Tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago
735 notes · View notes
gtgbabie0 · 1 year ago
Text
-Cregan Stark x Reader
{You learn that your husband is a very affectionate drunk}
I’m so back… Enjoy my lovelies! 💕
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆
Northern men know how to drink, it’s something you learned from first-hand experience on the night of your wedding. How the lords and ladies danced and drank together throughout the night, slurring their words and spilling their ale.
Today was no different, a celebration for your husband's name day that has been going on since the sun had started to rise. You couldn’t complain about it, it was nice to see Cregan not overwhelmed with his duties.
The dining hall is dimly lit with candles that are littered everywhere, the white wax melts in clumps on the wooden tables that are stained with ale and wine. You notice how much calmer the atmosphere seems to be, now that the evening has approached, as you lean back into your chair.
Most of the guests had taken their leave by now and only a few Lords and Ladies remain, and even their faces were visibly exhausted. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you glance over to Cregan, who is already looking at you with soft, glossed-over eyes.
“You look beautiful” he whispers, his words are slurred from his drunken state, but they still carry so much honesty and love that it melts you.
The smile that teeters on your lips is uncontrollable and it only makes Cregan admire you even more. He leans back in his chair whilst he drinks the sight of you in with hungry eyes.
You rest your hand over Cregans as he squeezes your thigh gently. “Have you had a good day?” You ask as he nods his head, his big hand caressing your thigh lazily.
“The best… thanks to you my lady” he says with a soft chuckle at the way you give him an almost shy smile. He can’t help but adore everything about you… you’re beyond perfect, 'a gift from the gods' as Cregan always says.
“I’m glad, though, perhaps it is time to call it a day now?” You tell him as you take his calloused hand within yours. He hums in agreement as his thumb soothes against your palm.
Getting him back to your shared bedchambers was a very humorous challenge. You were practically dragging him along as he leaned onto you for support, his hands soothing against your hips and waist whilst you guided him through the cold halls of the Winterfell castle.
The fireplace warms your bedchambers, bathing the cosy room in a soft light, as it crackles and pops. Cregan watches you take off your jewellery before changing into your nightgown with a soft smirk, his eyes gleaming with fondness.
“Gods, look at you… an absolute goddess” he says, his raspy voice just above a whisper. He wastes no time in approaching you clumsily, his hands grasping needly on your body as he tugs you closer to him.
The giggle that escapes you leaves Cregan breathless and it certainly doesn’t help when your fingers begin to brush through his hair as you stand between his legs. He looks up at you with a smile as you cup his face gently… he simply can not get enough of you.
“You should sleep,” you tell him softly knowing how awful his morning fog will be. He shakes his head softly as he rests against your stomach, his hand still grasping at your hips.
“Not before I thank you properly… my queen” His tone is teasing as he lets out a soft chuckle at the way you gasp.
“Shh… your words are dangerously close to treason” you whisper softly as your hand moves to clasp over his mouth, you look down at him with an almost shy smile.
"My words will only be treason if someone hears them... and we are alone." He pulls your hand away from his mouth, his fingers caressing your wrist. The way you look when he praises you makes him crazy. Your eyes, your smile, you are beautiful.
He hugs you close, pressing a kiss on your cheek. "But you are my queen. You rule over my heart. No one could ever take that place from you."
The honesty and love that are woven within his each and every word takes you back, your expression softens and your eyes start to well up with tears. It’s an overwhelming feeling that warms your chest and makes your skin tingle.
You take a seat on the bed beside him with a soft sigh. His thumb wipes away your tears as he presses another kiss to your cheek. “Don’t cry… you’re far too pretty for that” he whispers, his forehead resting against yours.
A bright smile teeters on his lips at the sound of your precious laughter, he brushes your hair behind your ears before pressing a kiss to your jaw.
“I love you, Cregan.” The words feel so natural and he absolutely relishes in the way you say it. He buries his face into the crook of your neck with a boyish smile.
“I love you too… my queen” he replies, his tone heavy with exhaustion as the alcohol starts to weigh on him however that doesn’t stop him from pressing lazy kisses all over your face, his hands soothing against your hips and waist whilst he whispers sweet nothings into your skin.
Cregan will soon find sleep, with his arms wrapped around you and his face buried into your neck. You’ll have to tease him tomorrow about how much of an affectionate drunk he is.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
2K notes · View notes
undreaming-fanfiction · 4 months ago
Text
Day 24 for @steddie-spooktober, Pumpkin. I'll just finish this hellish month and then write all the good Halloween-y stuff when people already look forward to Christmas. There.
"Oh my god. That's Eddie Munson!"
Steve's eyebrow did that treacherous twitch. Here we fucking go again.
Robin just snickered. "Oh wow. That's like what, the fifth one today?" She didn't even look sorry for Steve, the traitor! She just kept making the coffee order, creating a lovely heart in the milk foam.
The woman who ordered the coffee didn't even bother to try and whisper to her friend. She was squealing and pointing at the unsuspecting rock star who had earphones over his head. "What do you think he's reading? It must be something dark. He has a reputation, you know."
Another twitch in Steve's eyebrow, but he was a professional. It was fine. He could do his job even when annoyed. Maybe.
Robin flipped the whiteboard with their seasonal specials. The other side revealed a meticulously prepared game of Eddie Munson-themed bingo. "Wanna play, Steve?"
He scowled at the board. All of those were classics, the stupid shit people say when they meet a rock star like Eddie Munson.
He took an erasable marker and scribbled X next to the questions, comments and other atrocities he managed to catch.
I wonder if he'll show me that special tattoo if I ask nicely. Check.
I heard he's unforgettable in bed. Check.
People say he has a...you know. A piercing down there. Check.
I don't believe the rumors. A guy like that can't be taken for long. He was made to sleep around. Check.
I wonder what he's drinking. Probably something dark and bitter. Mmm, how mysterious!
"Bingo!" whispered Robin. "Now, as per the rules of this humble establishment, once we have a bingo, you get to go there and be a bitch. Do your worst, oh platonic soulmate of mine. I'll be watching."
Who was Steve to deny Robin one of her favorite hobbies? He fluffed his hair and re-applied his lip oil, arranged some pastries on a kitten-shaped plate and made his way to Eddie Munson.
Eddie was lost to the world, but there was a familiar pattern in Steve's footsteps, one that reverbated through the wooden floor. In a second, Eddie had dropped his book and gave Steve the widest smile. One that he couldn't even conjure up on stage. This smile was only for Steve, and Steve fucking hoped the women noticed that.
Eddie made grabby hands at him, pulling him down into a quick kiss. "Is your shift over, Stevie? Can we go?"
Steve shook his head. "Nah, two more hours to go. Ish. Are you sure you don't want to wait for me home? You must be tired."
"Tired?! Pffft. I mean, yeah, but I want to spend time ogling my boyfriend when he's at his sexiest - covered in flour and sugar. And speaking of sugar..." He glanced at the plate. "Is that for me?"
Steve laughed and set the plate in front of him. "Honestly? Even if it wasn't, those doe eyes of yours would persuade me in a second. But yeah. It'll be Halloween soon, and I was testing out some spooky cookies. Do you like pumpkins?"
Eddie gasped and clutched his heart. "Do I?!"
Steve kissed Eddie on the top of his head and put his earphones back on. In a few seconds, Eddie was back in his own world, book, music and cookies.
In a corner of his eye, Steve saw the two young women, speechless. Robin was serving them their coffees, giddy with anticipation. She'd prepared them in to-go cups, just in case.
Steve stood in front of them, flipped his hair and smirked. "Well, ladies. You've had many questions or guesses, and I'm happy I can answer them. You know. To give you some peace of mind" He nodded to Robin. "The list, Rob?"
Robin glanced at their bingo board. "I wonder what he's reading!" she read out.
Steve nodded and returned to the frozen guests. "The book to end all books. That's what Eddie calls the...uh. Tolkien bible thingy. Silmarillion." He pronounced it gery carefully. "He reads it to me sometimes, when I can't sleep. Works like a charm." He might have smirked at the blush creeping up the woman's face. "Next."
Robin saluted him. "Special tattoo?"
"He won't show it, I made him promise he'd no longer get arrested for public indecency. Besides, it's only me that gets to see it. Next."
Robin fake gagged. "Is he unforgettable in bed?"
"Sure is. He talks to my chest hair. I think they're a couple."
Robin gagged again. "Why...ladies, get better questions! That piercing down under?"
Steve snickered. "Very real. Very...effective." He sneaked a glance at Eddie. Sexy and charismatic, yes, but more importantly warm, happy and home.
In a sing song voice, Robin got to the next point. "Is he really taken?"
"Take a guess," Steve winked at them. Or at least tried to, because the customers were already halfway out of the door with their coffee cups, and a very generous tip left on the counter.
"Aw," muttered Robin. "Shame, I thought these two would last longer. It's been ages since someone lasted the full Munson reverse bingo."
Steve laughed and helped her clean the table. "Would a pumpkin cookie console you?"
"Only if I don't have to hear about your bedroom rituals ever again," she said and reached for a cookie. "Or at least until the end of the shift."
617 notes · View notes
chibinasuu · 3 months ago
Text
Date? | Zoro x Reader
Summary: Zoro asked you out on a date. (You thought it was just an errand run at the market)  Tags: fluff, pre-relationship, first date(?), GN but written with F!Reader in mind, no use of y/n
a/n: happy birthday zoro!! this is not a birthday-centric fic, just wanted to write something fluffy for the birthday boy :)
Tumblr media
You sat on one of the swings on the main deck of the Thousand Sunny, gently swaying as you waited for Zoro. As the minutes ticked by, you started impatiently glancing at the door to the boys’ room. 
It was taking Zoro unexpectedly long to get ready today when he usually only needed less than five minutes to throw on whatever non-wrinkled, semi-clean clothes he could find strewn around beneath his hammock. 
“Want to go to the market with me today? Just us two?” was what Zoro asked you this morning. Of course, you said yes without a second thought. It wasn’t unusual for you to accompany Zoro on errand runs whenever you docked at a new island – it seemed the crew had appointed you as his (un)official chaperone, tasked with ensuring the directionally challenged swordsman could find his way back to the ship at the end of the day. With that being said, you couldn’t say that you didn’t enjoy every single second you got to be alone with your green-haired crewmate.
The Sunny was currently docked at a small, but lively harbor town. Nami already scoped out the area this morning, and she reported that, thankfully, there were no marine bases here, so the crew could spend the next three days in peace while waiting for the log pose to set.
Some muffled bickering came from inside the boys’ room and you were straining your ears to hear what they were saying when the door suddenly swung open. Zoro was quickly shoved out of the room by a pair of hands you recognized as Usopp’s, and a telltale flash of blonde hair, before the door slammed shut, told you that the cook was also in on… whatever this was. 
You looked at the man in front of you, his green hair still slightly damp from a bath (he took a bath?) but combed neatly. He was wearing a black, slightly oversized, short-sleeved shirt – unbuttoned over a white tank top – paired with some light blue jeans. 
You could only gape in awe, genuinely taken aback at the sight of him actually dressing up for once, but at your silence, Zoro stiffened and did a one-eighty, reaching for the doorknob, “I’m gonna go change.”
You touched his arm lightly to stop him, “No, don’t.”
He turned to face you again, and you placed your hand on his shoulder as you admitted, “You look really great. It suits you.”
The tips of Zoro’s ears turned red at your compliment. A breeze suddenly picked up, bringing about faint traces of lemon and eucalyptus… Was he wearing cologne?
You couldn’t help but lean towards him, inching your nose closer to his neck to catch another whiff of the lovely aroma. As if reading your thoughts, Zoro said, “Usopp sprayed it on me before I could get away.”
Ah, so that’s why the scent was familiar. You’ve smelled it on the sniper a few times before, but on Zoro, the cologne smelled slightly different, tinged with a scent that was so uniquely him. 
“Well, you smell fantastic.” You reassured him. “Shall we go?”
The walk to the market was brief, with you and Zoro strolling side-by-side in companionable silence. As the hustle and bustle of the market came within sight, you nudged him and asked, “What did you need from the market, by the way?”
“I didn’t really need anything in particular,” He thought for a bit, “But I guess I’m running low on sword polish.”
After Zoro made a quick purchase at the arms shop, you two wandered around the market with no directions in mind, stopping at whichever stall caught your eye. 
An old lady sat behind one, carefully weaving a bracelet out of thin, colorful threads. Her table was filled with more of her creations, each of them with unique patterns and color combinations. You picked one that you thought was the prettiest, admiring the intricate details of the different shades of green mingling to create a mesmerizing design. You checked the price tag and put it back down. As much as you wanted it, you really needed to restrain yourself. You told yourself you didn’t need another accessory – not when you just purchased a pricey silver necklace at the last island. 
A few stalls down was a table laden with vials and bottles of all sizes, and you excitedly dragged Zoro by the sleeve towards it. 
“Welcome, welcome!” The owner of the kiosk greeted you, “We have fragrances of every kind here – even imported oils from Alabasta! Do you have any particular scent you prefer?”
“Oh, it’s not for me!” You smiled before jerking your thumb at your companion, “I want to find something for him.”
“Well, take a look around.” He gestured to the samples, “I’m sure we can find something suitable for your boyfriend.”
You felt heat rush to your cheeks as you frantically waved your hand, while Zoro was similarly flustered.
“He’s not–”
“We’re not–, I mean–”
The two of you gave up explaining as the man profusely apologized for making inappropriate assumptions. After you assured him that it was fine, he began putting drops of the different fragrant oils on small pieces of paper and handed them to you. You sniffed each of them, bringing the ones you found interesting up to Zoro’s nose. All of the scents were alluring in their own ways, but one in particular stood out to you. It opened with a fresh burst of bergamot, layered with a spicy rush of cardamom and a hint of green tea. 
“How’s this?” You offered the paper to Zoro.
He took a cautious sniff, and his eyebrow raised ever so slightly. Zoro was never really into colognes or perfumes, but he was surprised at how much he actually liked the scent you picked for him.
He nodded and you beamed, turning towards the merchant, “We’ll take this one!”
As the man filled a vial with the fragrant oil, you reached into your pocket for some Berries, but Zoro’s hand on your wrist stopped you, “You don’t have to–“
“I know.” You cut him off, “But I want to.”
You grinned at him, “You can wear it the next time we hang out, so you don’t have to borrow Usopp’s.”
A smile slowly crept up Zoro’s lips, “Thanks.” 
The merchant was wrapping up the glass vial when Zoro tapped you on the shoulder, “Hey, I need to go to the restroom. Wait here for a minute.”
Before you could stop him, he was gone. 
Your heart dropped. If there was one rule to going anywhere with Zoro, it was to never let him out of your sight.
You quickly handed some coins to the merchant and began searching in the direction that Zoro went, standing on your tiptoes to look over the crowd in hopes of catching sight of that familiar green. You were just starting to descend into a panic when a hand suddenly grabbed yours. 
“I’m right here,” Zoro said softly into your ear.
You smacked him lightly on the chest, “Don’t run off like that again! You scared me!”
“Sorry,” He grinned, before shrugging and saying nonchalantly, “But you know what, I don’t know how but I could always find my way back if it’s to you.”
You wondered if he knew the effect he had on you.
Your grip on his hand tightened just a little bit. You knew he was just holding your hand so you wouldn’t lose each other in this crowded market, but you couldn’t prevent your pulse from quickening at the feeling of his strong hand in yours. It certainly didn’t help that he didn’t let go even after you left the market and the crowd behind you. 
You caught a glimpse of a massive flower field at the edge of town and tugged Zoro’s hand to grab his attention, “Nami heard that field’s a popular picnic spot for the locals. Sure looks pretty, doesn’t it?”
“Wanna check it out?” 
You looked at the field longingly before shaking your head, “It’s getting late, maybe tomorrow. We should probably head back to the ship for dinner soon.” 
“Actually,” Zoro said, “I was thinking we could try out one of those restaurants in town, if you’re up for it?”
You were surprised at Zoro’s suggestion – he was normally the type to return to the ship as early as possible and take a good, long nap after a day out – but you agreed to it nonetheless. When else would you get a chance to dine with your swordsman, just the two of you?
The restaurant Zoro took you to was a quaint place, but the food they served was beyond your expectations. Zoro was unusually talkative throughout dinner, and you couldn’t say that you didn’t adore this side of him. You two laughed and chatted through bites of steaks and sips of beer, and then dinner was over before you realized, far sooner than you would’ve liked. 
The walk back to the ship was also shorter than you remembered. As you walked beside Zoro, fingers brushing in featherlight touches, you had to resist the temptation of linking your fingers with his. The night was getting chillier and you would give anything to feel his warm hand in yours again, but you know you shouldn’t. This was just a friendly outing anyway – you wouldn’t want him to think that you got the wrong idea, or worse, what if he rejected your advances?
Zoro walked you all the way to the door of your quarters, “Did you have fun today?”
“I did.” You smiled up at him, “Best day I had in a while, to be honest.”
All of a sudden, Zoro took your wrist and slipped something onto it, “A return gift. For the perfume oil you bought me.” 
Your heart skipped a beat when you noticed that it was the green woven bracelet that you admired earlier. He must’ve gotten it when you were briefly separated at the market.  
“Oh, Zoro,” You leaped toward him, bringing your arms around his neck and enveloping him in a big hug, “Thank you!” 
Zoro’s arms tentatively wrapped around your waist and you melted into his embrace. You leaned back and brought your wrist with the bracelet to beside his head, giggling as you noted, “It matches your hair.” 
Zoro’s expression was unreadable as he gazed at you, and then, without warning, he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your cheek. You froze at the sudden act, your smile dropping in shock. Your heart was pounding faster than ever, and your fingers unconsciously went to the spot where you could still feel the touch of his chapped lips.  
Zoro mistook your surprised reaction as rejection and immediately dropped his arms from your waist, stepping backward as he brought his palm to his forehead, “Sorry, fuck, I shouldn’t have taken that dumb cook’s advice.”
“Huh?” You voiced, still in a daze and not understanding a bit of what he was saying, “What advice? What’s Sanji got to do with this?”
He hesitated, before admitting in a small voice, “He said a kiss on the cheek would be okay for a first date. If it went well.”
“D-date?” You asked in confusion, “Are you telling me today was a date?”
Zoro ran his hand through his hair in frustration, “Well, what the hell did you think it was then?”
“I thought it was just one of our usual errand runs!” You stammered out, before jabbing your pointer finger on his chest accusingly, “You didn’t say it was a date!”
After belatedly realizing that he, in fact, did not, Zoro flushed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Uh, I did say it would only be the two of us?”
You blinked, still processing his words and this absurd miscommunication.
“You know what, forget it.” Zoro's face was bright red as he began walking away from you in the direction of the crow’s nest, “Good night.”
“No, wait. Zoro.” You caught him by his hand, before placing yourself in front of him. “It was a really nice day.”
He refused to look at you, but you placed your hand on his chin, guiding his eyes to yours, “But if you wanted to ask me on a date, maybe you could’ve been a little more… explicit?”
You laughed in embarrassment as you gestured at your casual t-shirt and shorts, “Gosh, look at me! I would’ve dressed up better!”
“You look great no matter what you wear.”
You flushed at his sincere compliment, before taking his hands in each of yours, “I’d love to go on a date with you again, you know.”
You squeezed his hands, ��Preferably one where I knew it was a date?”
He was silent for a few seconds, before muttering, “Tomorrow then.” 
“Tomorrow what, Zoro?” You teased, “Use your words.”
Zoro took a deep breath, looking you right in the eyes, “Would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow? We can have a picnic at the flower fields. You wanted to go there, right?”
“It’s a date.” You smiled, before giving him a peck on the cheek, “Good night, Zoro. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You entered your room, quickly shutting the door as your legs gave out under you. You sat stunned on the floor, hand on your chest to dampen the drumming of your heart, cheeks hurting from the wide grin you were sporting.
You knew you probably wouldn’t sleep a wink tonight, too filled with excitement for what tomorrow would bring.  
Tumblr media
↳ masterlist
612 notes · View notes