#there goes my sip of starbucks
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i just had a rough start to my day, you guys
#i ordered breakfast and not even 10 seconds in upon receiving my large iced coffee the carrier breaks off and down goes my precious drink#i mean i could've salvaged it the seal was pretty tight but a hole opened at the bottom upon impact#it happened right in front of my building too#i was more upset than embarrassed though#sighs#i typically am the kind to dwell on shit like this but it's worse now w my depression messing w my emotional regulation#i was looking forward to sipping on it while i write too :(#oh well#i'm gonna order from starbucks later to make up for it hehe idc#zee.chats
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── ୨୧ ! 𝗚𝗔𝗟𝗔𝗫𝗬 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟
𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader
SUMMARY: Where Matt has a crush on Y/N, an influencer extremely well-known in the USA, but when she goes to the Zach Sang Show, Matt discovers that she also has a crush on him. When the two meet at a party, how will Matt react?
REQUESTED?: Yes, from anon.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
"Hi beautiful people! I'm Zach, and that is Dan, and welcome to the studio for the first time after many requests, Y/N!" Zach began with his standard intro, the camera moving away from him and onto Y/N, who was sitting comfortably on the couch facing her microphone.
"Hii, wow... I've lost count of how many nights I've spent hours watching your show, Zach, so being here is an honor! Thank you so much for having me." Y/N spoke with a smile on her face, her eyes shining with excitement.
"It's amazing to have you here too. Believe me, the honor is ours." Zach replied, smiling just as much. "But tell me, how is life? Crazy, I imagine." He asked with a smile, taking in Y/N's features.
"Don't remind me, literally crazy! As I have Instagram, Tiktok, and YouTube to manage and post content every day, at least in one, I haven't had time to stop much, you know?" Y/N spoke while gesturing with her hands. "But it's been incredible. Over the past five years, I've loved every moment of it."
"I can only imagine, especially since you have a knack for fashion too, right? I see you a lot at events." Zach commented, taking a sip of his water.
"Yes, exactly. My content is a little bit of everything: humor, fashion, relationships, makeup, Q&A, day-to-day life, etc. I like this really mixed stuff." The girl let out a laugh when she finished.
"Yes, I think that's what attracts so many audiences to you too, right? You have subjects that cover all audiences." Zach commented, receiving a nod from the influencer. "And tell me a little about how it all started, from the beginning."
"Well, I've always been a person who loved to talk, my friends at school joked that if I sat next to an unknown person for ten minutes, within the first minute I would come up with a random topic and start a conversation." Y/N smiled when she heard Zach comment that that was something super interesting and traits of an extroverted person. "Plus, I've always liked having an audience and social media. I had Musical.ly many years ago, where I posted short makeup and hair videos."
"Wow, Musical.ly, I completely forgot it existed." Dan commented, laughing along with the other two.
"Yes, it looks like it was a crazy dream." Zach nodded, glancing briefly at Dan before returning his gaze to Y/N. "I saw some videos from that time. You once mentioned that you took makeup courses, right?"
"Yes, I took makeup courses at Make-up Forever Academy while I was at school. It's always been my favorite hobby." Y/N said, as she stirred her Starbucks coffee cup, her drink still warm. "And on Musical.ly, I only posted that, but over time, the app lost popularity, and people started looking for me on Instagram. At the time, my Instagram was pretty empty, I didn't post almost anything there, just some also makeup things. But then, I needed to change that since Instagram gave me a lot more tools to create more expansive content. It was the moment that I completely lost my shyness with cameras, you know? That's when I started talking about other things besides makeup and hair, and the audience grew. Famous people started following me as well, I remember I panicked about that." She paused, laughing, accompanied by Zach, who was listening intently.
"And my followers started asking for a YouTube channel, where I could make longer videos and each one about something specific. I thought a lot about it, but I took courage and created my channel, and it totally exploded, almost all of my followers from Instagram started to follow me there, but on YouTube the number of people doubled."
"It caught the attention of the public who only used YouTube, right?" Zach commented, nodding in understanding.
"Exactly! And I was just with this two social medias for a few years, until I discovered Tiktok, that's when I discovered that it was like an improved Musical.ly, and that a lot of people made content just on it. I remember thinking: why not? I was already fully on the Internet, and it wouldn't hurt to have another social network. The audience continued to grow, and there were shares all the time, likes, and comments, and with that, we reached 16 million subscribers on YouTube and 6 million followers on Tiktok and Instagram." Y/N finished, her face showing a smile as she momentarily remembered her long journey there.
"Your history with the Internet is truly incredible, you are one of the biggest influencers in the United States and well known all over the world, having started at 15 years old and fighting to grow and gain your own space." Zach praised, clapping playfully as Y/N waved her hand like it was nothing, her face turning red in embarrassment. "But you mentioned a subject I wanted to bring up: celebrities." He said, laughing when he saw the girl take on a fearful look.
"Jesus, what are you going to say?" Y/N asked with a smile on her face, she had already opened up her life and tastes so much to her audience, that she knew she would definitely have said something about celebrities that she didn't remember at that moment, but that Zach would bring up.
"There was a video on Tiktok where you were answering a question from a fan, who had asked what your favorite YouTube channel and your celebrity crush were." Zach began, approaching the microphone to his face. Y/N widened her eyes, taking a sip of her drink to hide her expression, vaguely remembering the video in question. "And you answered that your favorite channel was the Sturniolo Triplets and that your celebrity crush was Matt Sturniolo, is that correct?"
"Oh my God." Y/N muttered, hiding her red cheeks in her hands. "Yes, it is." She let out a nervous laugh. "The triplets are super funny, I just love their content! I'm not going to lie, I've never missed a video of them. I saw that Chris came here this year, right? I think their journey with YouTube is incredible." She said, Zach nodding as he confirmed that Chris had been on the show recently.
"They really are incredible people. Their content is gold. But, is Matt still your crush?" He asked again, looking at her with a smile on his face.
"You're not going to let this go, are you?" Y/N asked as she smiled sheepishly. "Yes, he's still my crush. I mean, have you seen that man? He's hot, has an incredible sense of humor, and is kind! Just perfect, just no more than Harry Styles." She counted the characteristics mentioned with the fingers of her right hand, laughing when she mentioned the British singer, trying to take all attention away from her admission about her crush.
"Yeah, guys, it seems like if you're not Matt, or Harry, you don't enter Y/N's list." Zach joked, looking at the camera, receiving laughs from the other two there.
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The triplets were lying on the sofa in their home, each in a corner of the space, while using their phones. Sounds of tiktoks and reels echoed through the walls.
Nick was on his tiktok, browsing his For You, watching the millions of edits that his fans made for them, some videos of other subjects appearing from time to time. The boy let out a laugh when he saw an edit of himself with clips taken from the last car video, double-clicking on the screen to give it a like before scrolling his thumb up, Y/N's voice suddenly sounding from his phone.
Nick took his thumb away from the screen momentarily, paying attention to what one of his favorite influencers was saying, smiling as he heard her tell a little about her history with social media.
His smile was replaced by wide eyes seconds later when the girl's comment about his channel with his brothers and about Matt sounded.
"What?" He asked loudly, catching the attention of Matt and Chris, who had confused looks on their faces.
"What what?" Chris asked, locking the screen of his phone and tossing it to the side.
Matt only looked up from his own phone screen momentarily, returning his attention to his Instagram feed.
"You know Y/N?" Nick asked, his eyes darting from Matt to Chris quickly.
"That super famous influencer that Matt has had a crush on for years? Yes." Chris agreed, nodding his head as he adjusted himself in his seat, receiving a slap on the arm from his brother, who lowered his cell the moment the girl's name left Nick's lips.
"She knows who we are, and not only that, she talked about us on Zach's show." The redhead said with wide eyes.
"Zach Sang?" Matt asked, receiving a nod from Nick, who got up and walked closer to his brothers, sitting between the two and raising his phone, increasing the screen brightness and volume before hitting play on the tiktok again.
The video was a compilation of the show's favorite moments with the influencer. The triplets watched in silence until they got to the part where Y/N talked about her channel, also confirming her crush on Matt. Chris quickly turned his face to Matt with his mouth open in shock.
"Matt, THE Y/N has a crush on you." Nick reinforced, pausing the video and turning to his brother, who had wide eyes as he looked at the phone that had Y/N's face on the screen, a disbelief look on his own face.
"That's crazy." He muttered, shaking his head in denial. "It's not possible that my longtime crush has a crush on me, too. That only happens in movies. Right?" Nick rolled his eyes at the comment.
"It might be crazy, but it's not a lie. She wouldn't talk about our channel and reveal her crush on you if it was a lie or a joke." Chris commented as he fixed the hood of his sweatshirt, earning a nod from Nick.
"Next week, there will be that huge and super chic party for the biggest influencers and YouTubers in the United States here in LA, and we received an invitation. I'm absolutely sure she will be there. It would be a great opportunity to make contact with other YouTubers and get to know her, maybe even ask her to participate in a video with us." Nick reminded his brothers of the invitation, locking his phone screen and looking at the two.
"Are you sure about that?" Matt asked, an expression of uncertainty on his face. Out of the three, he was the least fond of parties, although none of them were very fond of it either.
"It would be great for the channel, Matt." Chris reinforced, shrugging. "It wouldn't hurt to try. If we don't like it, we can leave right away. But meeting Y/N seems amazing to me right now, and it would be a great opportunity for you."
"Okay."
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
"Are you guys sure about this?" Matt asked after turning off the key in the ignition, keeping his hands on the wheel as he looked ahead, his ears picking up the loud sound coming from the party.
"Matt, it's just going to be a test, okay? It's interesting for us to make more contacts." Nick responded from the backseat, resting his hands on the sides of the front seats as he looked in the rearview mirror, waiting for Matt to look back.
Matt looked up, focusing on Nick through the mirror, who had a neutral expression. The boy shifted his gaze to Chris beside him, who was already looking at him.
Chris offered a reassuring smile, taking his left hand to Matt's right shoulder, squeezing the area.
Matt exhaled deeply as he mentally prepared himself. It had been years since he had attended such a big party.
It didn't take long for the triplets to get out of the vehicle. Matt locked the doors before they started their walk to the mansion where the loud sound of pop music was coming from.
Nick quickly pulled from the pocket of his jeans the invitation he had received in the mail that stated his and his brothers' names on expensive-looking paper and beautiful writing, holding it ready to present to the security guards at the front.
After being granted entry, the three entered the house, stopping for a few seconds at the beginning of the living room while their eyes traveled over the people there, recognizing some of their social media.
The mansion was extremely chic, decorated with golden tones and diamond chandeliers, long marsala red curtains covered the huge windows and columns that resembled those of Greek temples were spread throughout the space, along with two staircases in each hemisphere of the room with wooden handrails and a red carpet that led upstairs.
Youtubers, influencers, and celebrities filled the space, talking or dancing, some drinking, dressed in extravagant and expensive clothes.
Chris surreptitiously pointed to a specific point, making his brothers look there.
"That's Y/N, right?" He asked, earning a nod from Nick.
To Matt, the earth seemed to have stopped spinning, and the world seemed to have become static. The celebrities in the room suddenly stopped, the sound became muffled, and the smell of drinks and perfume disappeared. His breathing seemed to catch, and his throat felt dry.
Y/N looked perfect, having opted for an all-silver outfit: a mid-length skirt with a thigh-high slit from Diesel draped in synthetic silver along with a white crop top also from Diesel adorned her body. A pair of thin silver high heels decorated her feet, complemented by a silver Diesel bag and jewelry in the same color.
She looked like she came out of one of those galaxy movies, but much prettier than its characters.
Matt could have watched her from afar for seconds or minutes, just admiring her beauty and every detail of herself, but it still seemed to be too quick for his liking. Nick woke him from his hypnosis with a weak slap to his chest, getting his attention.
"You definitely don't know how to disguise it." He commented, rolling his eyes.
"Shut up, Nick." Matt responded quickly, frowning and briefly looking at Y/N again, before turning to his brothers. "I'm going to get something to drink, are you coming?" He asked, needing a cold soda at that moment.
Chris nodded, answering for himself and Nick, following his middle brother to the bar that was in the separation between the kitchen and the living room.
The space was extremely chic, a circle-shaped bar with a gold colored counter decorated with details in yellow and navy blue tiles, giving an air of wealth. At the front there were stools with synthetic gold upholstery and at the back, after the space where the bartender circulated, there was a large circular and high table filled with all types of drinks, including the most expensive ones.
Matt leaned his hips against the counter, choosing not to sit down, and glanced briefly at the bartender.
Nick sat on the stool next to him and Chris sat next to Nick, the two starting a conversation about a subject that Matt didn't pay attention to, his attention focused on the people around him, or rather, on one specific person.
His blue eyes went back and forth to Y/N's silhouette, admiring her from afar as he wished to be by her side, accompanying her and being the person she was talking to.
The girl next to Y/N and who had been talking to her since the moment Matt entered the room walked away, saying something while blowing an air kiss to the influencer, who smiled in response and turned around, facing where Matt was, but not looking directly at him, running her eyes around the people while taking sips of her drink, probably alcoholic.
Matt took a deep breath as he gathered his courage, straightening up and starting to take long steps towards the girl, crossing the room and passing among the famous people there.
"Matt, what do you want to- Matt?" Nick began, turning to where Matt was and stopping mid-sentence when he saw that his brother was no longer there.
"He's on his way to get his pot of gold." Chris commented, poking Nick with the index finger of his left hand and pointing at Matt, who was already approaching Y/N.
The brunette stopped next to Y/N, turning so that he was also facing the people around and shoulder to shoulder with her, a few centimeters between them. His hands were in the front pockets of his jeans as he breathed slowly, trying to calm his nerves.
And then her voice sounded like it was the easiest thing she'd done all day. Her voice was silky in person, so inducing that it sent goosebumps across Matt's skin.
"You were working up the courage to say hi..." She lifts the glass, taking another sip, her lips shiny with gloss and bright red lipstick, her tongue escaping her mouth momentarily, licking the residue of the drink there. "Or would you just stare at me all night?" She turned around, facing him.
Matt almost choked on his own saliva as he heard Y/N confirm that not only had she noticed he was there, but she had also noticed that he had been looking at her this entire time. A weight settled in his chest. Perhaps it was shame or lust due to the way she said that without reservation.
"I didn't mean to disturb you. You seemed quite engaged in your conversation." He made up an excuse, knowing full well that he could have gone to the girl from the moment he arrived, but his fear of what would happen held him back.
"Engaged? In a conversation about who here has the most money and fame?" Y/N threw back, furrowing her eyebrows.
Matt looked around them, stopping his eyes briefly on the girl who had previously spoken to Y/N and who was now watching the people with a gaze torn between judgment and desire. A loud laugh escaped his lips as he shook his head in denial, the pettiness of some people impressed him.
"For what it's worth, you're the only famous person here that interests me." Matt commented, his blue eyes focusing on Y/N's face, analyzing her closely. An expression of satisfaction came over his face as he saw a red color take over her cheeks.
"You flatter me, Matt." Y/N looks back at him, their eyes meeting for a few long seconds, before hers travel across Matt's face, mentally taking note of every detail she could notice in the few seconds.
The boy smiled arrogantly when he saw her eyes on him, receiving an eye roll in response.
"Do you like what you see?" He asked, his voice taking a deeper tone and his pupil dilating as his lips stretched into a smirk.
"Don't let it go to your head." Y/N responded as she scoffed playfully, allowing the beginning of a smirk to emerge on the right corner of her lip.
At that moment, Matt felt like he could do something, anything, that would make her smile like that again or smile a bigger smile. He thought of a million possibilities of what he could say to cause that reaction in her, longing to feel the butterflies in his stomach again.
"You look beautiful tonight." Matt praised, his blue eyes traveling over Y/N's body momentarily, returning to her eyes. "Not that you just look beautiful tonight. You always look beautiful. But today you..." The boy tried to justify, getting caught on his words. "Look perfect."
A sigh escaped his lips, an apologetic look taking over his eyes as his right hand scratched the back of his neck lightly, feeling like a complete idiot for getting tangled up in front of the girl he has a crush on.
"I'm sorry, this isn't how I pictured myself meeting you." He groaned, looking at the ground in shame, hoping something would surge and save him.
"So you imagined meeting me?" Y/N smiled, feeling arrogant. She bit her bottom lip, feeling smug as she watched Matt blush and his eyes widen. "I'm kidding. You look beautiful tonight, too." Y/N let out a low laugh, returning the previous compliment, running her tongue between her lips, wetting them as her eyes traveled over Matt, pausing lingeringly on his exposed collarbone with the tank top he was wearing, the necklaces that decorated his neck made her mouth water.
Before Matt could even open his mouth to answer her, the sound of footsteps approached, catching both their attention. Y/N tore her eyes away from Matt's blue ones and looked ahead, seeing the same girl from before approaching again, holding herself back from instantly rolling her eyes.
The boy realized that the conversation would change direction and that, perhaps, he would no longer be included in it. A subtle sigh escaped his lips, and he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans again, looking at Y/N briefly, realizing that she was already looking back.
"I'm sorry." She asked, pressing her painted lips into a thin line before a beautiful, wide smile replaced it. "Text me on Instagram. You will be my priority to respond." Y/N spoke before being gently pulled away by her "friend", turning her face back quickly and sending the brunette a wink before looking forward again.
Matt watched her from behind as her high-heeled legs took long, quick steps away from him, a goofy smile taking over his features. He would definitely send that text.
#x reader#chris sturniolo#fanfic#matt sturniolo#fanfiction#love#sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#imagine#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo x yn#matt sturniolo fic#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew bernard sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt x reader#matt au#matt fanfic#sturniolo triplets#oneshot#fluff#party#podcast#zach sang show#galaxy#diesel#flirting#request
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bucktommy prompt: different (flirty) first meeting 🤭
mornings are sweeter with you
Apparently, Starbucks is a popular place very early on a Monday morning. Who would've thought?
Buck feels like an idiot as he rambles his order to the poor, stressed-out-looking young woman on the other side of the counter, knowing, that he's already five minutes late and will likely have to wait for plenty more minutes, judging by the way the line only seems to keep growing.
And there will be traffic. Bobby is going to be pissed.
He had a horrible night and knows that it’s not an excuse but having only slept five hours because of the stupid nightmares that have taken over his mind ever since being released from the hospital, he needs caffeine before he gets to work.
He pays and goes to stand off to the side, where at least six other people are waiting for their to-go drinks. He stands further away from them and closer to the counter so that he doesn't get in their way and so that he gets a better view of the blonde woman yelling at the manager for having their employee screw up their order.
He checks his phone, only to pocket it soon after when the messages from 118 come in, asking where the hell he is. Buck isn’t the type to be late, he really isn’t. In fact, he loves to be early just about everywhere. But today, coffee is more important than anything else.
When the woman who took his order places a cup on the counter, calls out a name that Buck doesn’t hear because he’s still half-stuck in his thoughts and stares at him for a few seconds, Buck steps toward the counter and grabs the cup in his hand.
”That was fast,” he mumbles to himself, and despite feeling horrible for the workers getting yelled at for making drinks wrong, he has to make sure that it isn’t the case with his own drink.
So he takes a sip and swallows the cold liquid down with a small frown on his face.
It’s not correct. It’s nowhere near correct.
”What the hell?” He whispers and eyes the line that goes out the front door.
He doesn’t have time to go to the end of the line and wait for his turn to tell them that they made a mistake.
And so he speaks up, even though he feels terrible about it.
”Excuse me?” He says, trying to sound as polite as possible despite the stress of being late weighing down on him.
The woman who took his order looks at him as she makes another drink.
”My coffee, it’s made wrong,” he says.
The woman sighs and sets the cup she has in her hands to the side and walks over to him. Before she gets the chance to say anything, somebody comes to stand right next to Buck, casting a shadow on the counter in front of him.
”That could be because it’s mine,” an unfamiliar voice says and Buck turns to look at the person it belongs to.
The man is a little taller than him and the first thing Buck notices is the way that the outer corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles.
”Here. Look,” the man says, taking the cup out of Buck’s hand, brushing their fingers together for a split second, ”Tommy.”
Buck tears his eyes away from the man’s face and looks down at the cup. Written on its surface with a black marker is a name that apparently belongs to the man in front of him.
Now he feels even more like an idiot, ”Oh my God, I am so sorry, I-”
"Don't worry about it," Tommy tells him with a small wave of a hand and another smile. He leans against the counter. "I guess someone is in desperate need of coffee."
Buck gulps, ”You- You could say that.”
”Is your name Evan?” Another woman, also standing on the other side of the counter, asks.
”Uh…” Buck shakes his head to make his mind more clear again. He’d started telling them his real name after someone misheard him and wrote ’Fuck’ on his cup last year. ”Yeah, it is.”
”Here’s your drink,” she tells him, placing the cup on the counter in front of him.
The two workers hurry off to work on the other orders.
”I can pay for your coffee. As an apology,” Buck tells Tommy, nodding toward his drink, ”Or you can have mine, and- and I can finish yours since I already got my lips all over it.”
God, that’s a weird way to say it.
”I mean-”
Tommy chuckles. Buck has to stare down at his shoes for a moment, allowing the warmth spreading to his cheeks to go away.
”I’m willing to taste yours,” Tommy tells him then, already reaching for the cup in Buck’s hand.
And Buck gives it to him, willingly, and makes sure to touch the man’s hand to feel his skin again. A little rough, a little soft.
He is so confused by everything right now.
He watches Tommy take a sip and frown at the drink the same way he did a moment ago.
”That is… quite something, Evan.”
The way his name sounds like coming from the stranger makes his heart skip a beat.
Buck decides to ignore it and chuckles instead, ”Well, I wouldn’t talk if I were you, I mean… That was terrible.”
Tommy laughs right back at him and Buck bets that if he rested his head against Tommy’s chest, he would feel the rumble of it.
”Well, to be fair, that isn’t my usual order,” Tommy tells him, still leaning against the counter in a way that makes his shirt a little tight around his biceps.
Not that Buck is looking or anything.
”A friend of mine told me that the Starbucks near them is giving out drinks in rainbow cups for Pride Month if you order a certain kind of drink,” Tommy explains. ”Either they were fucking with me or that’s just not the case at this particular Starbucks.”
Buck nods, only half-listening. For some reason, his eyes are focused on Tommy’s cleft chin.
”W- What do you usually order then?” Buck finds himself asking, now looking up at the light blue eyes staring back at him.
”A flat white with two sugars. If I’m ordering from Starbucks, it’s a Venti but if from any other place, it’s just a large,” Tommy chuckles and Buck swears that he sees his eyes looking him up and down for a split second, ”That’s the way I like it. Tall, light… Sweet.”
Buck has to swallow again. He leans against the counter as well, not really knowing what else to do, ”S- So what did you order today?”
”Iced coffee with oat milk,” Tommy says. ”Judging from the way you reacted… Not good?”
”No,” Buck says with a slightly more relaxed laugh. ”Not great. And you didn’t even get a rainbow cup.”
”No, I didn’t,” Tommy chuckles under his breath. ”My friend must think they’re very funny, getting me to order something like this.”
He places the cup with the iced coffee on the counter, pushing it back gently to make it clear that he doesn't want it, and then hands Buck his cup back.
"I could uh…" Buck starts, trying not to focus on the way that Tommy's fingers scrape against his once more. "I could buy you a coffee from this other place I usually go to on my days off. It's a five-minute walk but I mean… You need your caffeine too. I could even draw a rainbow on your cup if you want me to."
Tommy smiles at him widely and tilts his head a little. Cute.
"I'd love that but I've got to take a raincheck," he says, glancing down at his watch. "My shift starts in half an hour, so…"
”Oh,” Buck mumbles under his breath and takes a quick sip of his coffee.
He doesn’t think about the fact that Tommy’s lips rested in the same spot of the cup just a moment ago. He really doesn’t.
"But I'd love to do that sometime," Tommy continues then and grabs one of the many markers on the counter.
He leans forward and for a moment Buck stiffens for no good reason, and watches as Tommy writes something on the side of his cup. He twists it around to see it when Tommy is done and smiling proudly.
On top of ’Evan’, it now says: Call me sometime, and under his name is Tommy’s phone number.
Buck smiles at him, ”I will.”
”Great. It was lovely to meet you, Evan,” Tommy says then and pats him gently on the shoulder. ”I’ve got to get going now, I just know the traffic’s going to be terrible. Don’t forget to call. I’m going to hold onto that promise of a drawn rainbow on my coffee cup.”
”Y- Yeah, I’ll…” Buck has to clear his throat. The spot on his shoulder where Tommy’s hand just was feels like it’s burning. ”I’ll work on my drawing skills.”
Tommy smiles once more as he starts making his way out of the Starbucks. Buck’s eyes follow him.
”Bye, Evan!”
”Bye,” Buck whispers back when Tommy is already out the door.
He stands there, holding his cup until a very annoyed man rushes toward the counter, nearly knocking him out of the way. Buck walks out as well and looks around a bit to see if he can get one more glimpse of the man he just met. He doesn't see him anywhere but just the thought of him makes Buck smile.
Coffee tastes better now than ever before and even the sun seems to shine brighter and warmer.
And despite being late, Buck isn’t in a hurry.
-
This turned out better than I thought it would, so I also posted it on AO3 :) Here's the link: mornings are sweeter with you - rosetterer - 9-1-1 (TV) [Archive of Our Own]
Thank you Anon for the idea!
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think pink
pairing: pink power ranger!hyunjin x afab reader
genre: smut, stupidity (minors dni)
warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), public sex kinda?, unprotected sex (be safe), creampie, tit sucking, alcohol consumption, very brief mention of female masturbation
word count: 8.2K
a/n: IM AT A CONCERT DRESSED AS SLUTTY LIGHTNING MCQUEEN RN WOOHOOOOOOO (this is a queued post). happy horny halloween mofos! very glad to be posting this fc bc i was supposed to post it last year and then just gave up LMAO so she's been a long time comin. pls give her some love i would really appreciate it!!! hope you all have/had a super safe sexy halloween!
october is overrated.
i mean sure, there is something undeniably cozy and heart-warming about crunchy leaves and pumpkin patches and all of the other shit that comes in the ‘fall aesthetic’ package. but the truth is that october is too windy, halloween is overhyped, and pumpkin spice tastes like ass.
and who wants to go to a halloween party where you can’t dress like a slut because of the wind chill? no one.
��you’re too negative.” jeongin sips his starbucks while keeping his eyes trained on the road, his left hand gripping the steering wheel of his beat up silver volkswagen jetta that he calls his baby, his pride and joy.
“i’m just telling it like it is,” you shift in the passenger seat to face him, “there is no need for so much hype around a mediocre holiday. what’s there to enjoy about getting violently drunk and stuffing your face with so much candy you feel sick?”
“listen y/n, i don’t know what your problem is but halloween is fun.” he appears to stop there, but then keeps going, “and i will not have your sour attitude ruin my favourite holiday.”
you just scoff and gaze out the window at all of the trees now bursting with shades of red, orange, yellow.
as if sensing something was off from your previous conversation, jeongin breaks the silence “you’re still coming to jackson’s party though, right? i don’t wanna go alone…”
“you won’t be alone,” you counter, “seungmin will be there.”
jeongin groans, “but seungmin’s so boring at parties. all he does is complain about how bad alcohol tastes and try to talk to people about books and films. i don’t trust a bitch that says films instead of movies! they always think they’re better than everyone.”
“that’s not true, seungmin’s fun at parties!” albeit you do admit you’ve only been to one party with seungmin where he went buck wild and were later told that that is very uncharacteristic of him.
jeongin’s expression turns sour, and you start to take pity on him.
“innie, i promised you i’d go to this party. when have i ever broken a promise? i’ll be there, alright?”
with that his face softens, and he goes back to his regular chatty self.
“knowing jackson it’s gonna be even bigger and better than last year. and you know y/n, i’m pretty sure hyunjin’s going as well.”
your heart drops to your stomach at the mention of his name.
you try to act as nonchalant as possible, “why would i care if hyunjin’s there or not?”
“because you’re in love with him.”
“i am not in love with him.”
jeongin scoffs, “please, i see those googly eyes you make every time you see him - scratch that, everytime his name is mentioned. and you sucked his dick.”
“oh so the second you put a guys dick in your mouth you instantaneously fall in love with him?”
“okay fine! maybe you don’t love him but there’s something there, no denying it,” he pauses, and then adds, “and i for one think it’s something worth pursuing.”
leaning your face against the passenger side window, you sigh contemplatively, “that ship has sailed, my friend. at this point hyunjin probably doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“i don’t know y/n, he still seems a little…. hung up on you,” jeongin attempts to reason with you, “why don’t you try talking to him?”
“what the fuck would i even say to him? hey hyunjin, everytime i think of you i get really really wet. could you please bend me over the nearest hard surface and fuck me so hard i can’t walk for a week???!!!!”
“so vulgar and for what.”
you roll your eyes, “shut up jeongin. if you want me to get with him so badly, maybe… i don’t know, help?”
“no way. you two are adults, you can sort it out yourself.”
“gee, what would i do without you and your incessant outpour of advice jeongin?” you tease, since jeongin is inherently quite awful at offering meaningful advice.
“i give good advice!!! you just never take it,” your best friend scowls as he drives through campus, pulling into a parking lot located in the midst of all of your school's buildings.
“sure innie, whatever makes you feel better,” you grab your tote bag off of the floor of the passenger seat and step out of jeongin’s car. as soon as you’re outside a brisk gust of wind engulfs you, the chill making its way through your sweater and making you shudder; you should’ve worn a thicker jacket.
jeongin does the same as you, slamming the driver door shut before grabbing his own stuff from the backseat.
“i’ll see you in a couple hours, kay? text me when your class is done,” he states before heading off towards to library, his broad shoulders protected from the frigid fall weather with a thick wool sweater and a puffy black scarf. the heels of his boots scuff the pavement as he trudges away, pulling out his headphones as he prepares for a couple hours of studying.
you make out in the opposite direction of your friend, heading towards the building where your lecture hall is located. all around you students are dressed in jackets and thick sweaters, scarves donning their necks and leg warmers wrapped around their ankles. the grey sky makes everything appear dull, spare for the bright coloured leaves that have been blown off the trees and crunch under the weight of your boots when you step on them.
soon you make it to your lecture hall, revelling in the warmth of being inside as you slowly close the doors behind you and making your way over to your (un)official seat. ever since the amount of people attending lecture every week started to decrease, you staked your claim on a seat in your favourite section of the room and refuse to sit elsewhere.
after a couple minutes of waiting your prof begins class, delving into lecture without a hitch as you attempt to scribble down notes. however, just as you’re about to get into the meat of today's class, your focus is broken when a late-comer yanks open the doors to the room with full force.
in walks hwang hyunjin, and a small part of you dies inside.
as the metal door swings shut behind him with a dramatic bang! you lock eyes with him just for a second before his gaze is averted to your professor who he gives a small, apologetic smile to.
in your head you’re screaming don’t you fucking dare hwang hyunjin as he walks closer and closer and closer to where you’re sitting in the sparsely populated lecture hall. you roll your eyes so hard your head hurts when hyunjin chooses the seat almost directly in front of you (just a little off to the side so it looks like it was a total accident - fuck you hwang).
of course you knew that hyunjin was in this class as well, but he’s usually on time and usually sits far away from you, at the back of the lecture hall. today he just feels like being an asshole, i guess.
hyunjin’s weird. he’s weird because he had the hots for you during the sweltering summer months, when jeongin rented a beachside airbnb for a week and invited all of his close friends - including you and hyunjin. he’s weird because he always applied sunscreen on your back and helped you cut up watermelon and sat beside you during bonfires. he’s weird because when everyone else left to go to the pier he encouraged you to stay back and yanked on your hair while you sucked his dick, bit your bottom lip with his front teeth, and fucked you so hard you saw stars.
he’s weird because he now pretends that the two of you have no history and fucks with you on purpose by shooting you flirty looks when he sees you at get togethers or on campus but does nothing more than that. he knows that you think about him, but does he think about you too?
staring at the back of his ebony-haired head, you can’t shake the image of hyunjin on top of you, his puffy bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he fucked you into his mattress, out of your head. the needy whines and groans he emitted when his cock was down your throat are ringing in your ears; you cross your legs under your desk in a pathetic attempt to ease the ache you feel in your cunt that you hate yourself for. come on brain, we cannot be horny during lecture! focus!!!
the next few hours drag on and on and on as you force yourself to keep your vision trained on either your notebook or your prof, resisting the urge to allow yourself to gaze upon the man who occupies your thoughts almost 24/7 (which is so not feminist of you btw).
ergo, when your prof finishes lecture 20 minutes early, you heave a sigh of relief. great, now you can gtfo and go finger yourself in the bathroom before getting jeongin to drive you home. but of course, a certain someone decides to ruin your plans by turning around and leaning against your desk, his dark chocolate eyes staring down at you mischievously.
“are you coming to jackson’s party?”
is he talking to you?
“are you talking to me?”
hyunjin looks around while the few other students surrounding the two of you scramble to pack their bags, “i mean, who else would i be talking to.”
“i don’t know,” you shrug, “anyone but me i guess.”
god this is so awkward. gag me with a spoon.
“you didn’t answer my question.”
“hmm?” you pretend to busy yourself with the task of shoving your pencil case into your near empty school bag.
“jackson’s party? you coming? jeongin said you were.”
of course he fucking did. because jeongin just loves stirring the pot.
“oh, uh yeah. i’ll be there.”
“what are you going to dress up as?” hyunjin clearly does not see how much you want to end this conversation - or maybe he does, and he just likes seeing you squirm. bitch.
“i don’t know yet.”
“the party’s tomorrow… and you still don’t know what you’re gonna be?”
“nope.”
“oh.”
hyunjin’s lips curl into a subtle smirk and you know he’s just dying for you to ask him the same thing, so you do.
“what are you dressing up as, hwang?”
his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he swings his backpack over one shoulder, “i guess you’ll just have to find out.”
and with that, he leaves you alone in the lecture hall with your professor, your half-packed bag, and your soaked panties.
.・:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:・˙
back in jeongin’s jetta as he gives you a ride home, you complain about hyunjin.
“he’s fucking with me on purpose, i just know it. god! he’s such a…. just like a little…. WEASEL! he’s a fucking weasel.”
“come on y/n, he’s not that bad,” jeongin sticks up for hyunjin, who is also his friend, mind you.
all you do is wave him off, “you don’t know how it feels to be played by a man that beautiful, innie.”
jeongin throws in the towel, and the two of you drive along the paved roads of your town in silence. as you continue to move along you soon find
“that forest still gives me the creeps.”
”come on, you seriously still don’t believe in all of that ‘lost john’ bullshit, do you?”
lost john’s forest is somewhat of a fable in your town; folklore, if you will. for ages people have been passing around this story about how a tourist named john who was exploring the town wandered into that forest one day to never be seen again. there are some variations, of course. some people say that they’ve seen john out and about, or that john was actually a cult leader and if you go into the woods you’re bound to get sacrificed. no one knows if john actually ever existed, or if the story is just all horseshit used as a cautionary tale to keep kids out of the forest at night.
doesn’t make it any less creepy though.
you huff as you stare at the endless sea of trees you’re driving past, “it’s not that i actually believe in it, it’s just that those stories come from somewhere, you know?”
jeongin doesn’t seem to understand the point you’re trying to get across, “...so?”
“so there’s gotta be at least some truth to them, right? or else where did they come from?”
“i don’t know y/n, i think it’s all made up to scare kids.”
the two of you sit in silence for a moment as you pass the last stretch of lost john’s forest before being surrounded by houses, apartment complexes and coffee shops once again.
“hey, do you know what costume hyunjin’s wearing to the party?”
as soon as the question passes your lips you regret it, and your regret increases tenfold when a devilish smirk makes its way onto jeongins face.
“oh! i thought you’d gotten over hyunjin, but here you are asking what he’s dressing up as for halloween. interesting!”
“oh my god jeongin shut the fuck up!! it’s not like that, he was just being a twat when i asked him about it in lecture today,” you huff in annoyance over your friends antics. and for the record you’ve never said that you were over hyunjin, just that you aren’t in love with him.
“sure y/n, whatever you need to tell yourself,” jeongin laughs, clearly thinking that he’s won this little scuffle, “you need to figure out a costume though.”
“ugh i know.” you scratch your head tentatively, “what are you going as?”
“a banana”
you can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips. is he for real?
“what’s so funny?” jeongin questions, his brow quirked.
“really? a fucking banana?”
“what’s wrong with that?”
“it’s a dumb costume, that’s what’s wrong.”
“it’s not dumb y/n, you just have no taste.”
“oh i have plenty of taste - that’s how i can tell your costume is bad.”
“it’s not bad it’s just- why are you being such a bitch right now?”
“did you just call me a bitch??!”
“yes i did because you’re being one!!”
“okay well SORRY for telling you that your costume is STUPID!!!”
“oh yeah? well in that case good luck finding a way to jackson’s party because I’M NOT TAKING YOU ANYMORE!!!”
“FINE!”
“FINE!!”
“FUCK YOU JEONGIN!!”
“FUCK YOU Y/N!!!!!”
in a fit of blind rage you grab your bag and shove you way out of jeongin’s car, a gust of wind ruffling your clothes as he speeds off as soon as you slam the door behind you. he is totally in the wrong here. you were just being a good friend, looking out for him by telling him that he’s setting himself up to look like a total idiot.
a squeal sounds behind you as jeongin floors it away from your house, the smell of burning rubber lingering around where his car was moments ago. what an aquarius you think to yourself as you head into your house, tossing your bag to the floor with a thump as soon as you’re inside. whatever, fuck jeongin! you’ll show him that you can have fun without him.
.・:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:・˙
“okay, what about this one?”
seungmin is in your bedroom for the first time ever.
which is weird, since the two of you have been friends for some time now. but hey, he’s here now eating chocolate covered pretzels while perched on the corner of your bed helping you pick out a costume for jackson’s halloween party.
“it’s cute.”
“... just cute? anything else?”
“i don’t know, you look… nice?”
you heave a sigh of frustration, “you know seungmin you really suck at this.”
he raises his hands in defence, “sorry! i’ve never done this before, you’re my only female friend.”
“yea yea whatever,” you command him to stop speaking with a wave of your hand, eyes flitting back and forth between the two costume options you’ve spread out on your floor and the one currently donning your body.
“so the final contenders are olive from easy a, slutty michael myers, and…” you look down at your legs, which are clad in the same black latex stockings you wore for halloween last year, “a sexy nun.”
seungmin shakes his head, “don’t do the last one, that’s blasphemous.”
“okay… sexy nun is out. i’m thinking easy a, you?”
seungmin ponders for a moment, his eyes squinted as he gazes at both the easy a and slutty mike myers costumes splayed across your carpeted floor.
“i second that, your boobs will look killer in a corset,” he eventually attests before shoving a couple more chocolate covered pretzels in his mouth.
you playfully smack his shoulder, “see min! you are good at choosing outfits.”
he just smirks in response before dusting the pretzel crumbs on his fingers off on his pants. with your arms full of discarded garments you head over to your closet, putting the clothing items of the unchosen costumes back in their place.
“hey can i ask you a question?” seungmin quips from your bed, where he’s now made himself comfortable by lying down and scrolling through twitter.
“shoot,” you say while hanging up your navy blue jumpsuit.
seungmin pauses his scrolling to ask, “how come you didn’t ask jeongin to help you with this? i mean, not that i don’t like helping you or anything, but you guys are like always together.”
ugh. jeongin. just hearing his name makes you
“we got into an argument,” you explain, opting to foresee the fact that said argument was over a fucking halloween costume, “he’s being petty, and i don’t want anything to do with him at the moment. and he keeps getting ”
seungmins brows raise momentarily before he responds, “it seems to me that both of you are being petty. also what happened with hyunjin?”
shit. you totally forgot seungmin isn’t caught up on everything that’s gone down. it’s his fault in all honesty, always opting to stay home instead of hanging out.
“uhhh it’s nothing,” you decide now isn’t the best time to get into everything, “but hey, you’re supposed to be on my side here!”
“i am!!! but why don’t we forget about your drama and watch….. coraline. capisce?”
coraline does sound nice, so you tug on your pyjama pants and join seungmin on your bed to indulge in a fitting movie.
.・:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:・˙
today is halloween.
today is halloween and you’re dreading it.
seungmin slept over last night and the two of you have been lounging around all day in preparation for tonight, which you are not looking forward to, what with both hyunjin and jeongin being there.
neither you nor jeongin have reached out to the other, both too stupid to be the first one to text the other and apologise. whatever, he’s the one who was up your ass about coming to this party, you’re gonna prove that you don’t have to follow him around like a lost dog at every function.
when it comes time to get ready you blast deftones and the twilight soundtrack (much to seungmins dismay) while painting your face. when it comes time to get into your outfit you recruit seungmin to help, making him stand behind you and yank the ties on your lacy black corset. with each tug you can feel the boning hug your ribs and stomach tighter and tighter before the mere action of breathing is uncomfortable.
it’s just for a couple hours you remind yourself while pulling on your black mini skirt and grabbing a pair of black sunnies from your vanity. the glossy scarlet red ‘a’ that you hand stitched onto the left breast of your corset last night glints in the mirror as you examine yourself, perfectly content with the costume you managed to pull off in less than 24 hours.
“holy shit, how can you breathe in that thing?” seungmin says as he stares at you from the same place on your bed, seemingly taken aback by the resilience of your rib cage.
“it’s for fashion, min! this halloween is all about reprisal, and i wanna look damn good while doing it.”
“okay shakespeare,” he jests before grabbing his costume from where it’s laying on the floor. it takes him a mere minute to throw on his outfit, and you envy him for it.
once you’re finally sure that you’re ready you toss a few tequila shots back in your kitchen as seungmin watches, stating he doesn’t wanna get fucked up tonight (when does he ever) but relents when you ask him to do at least one shot to keep him warm on the walk over to jackson’s.
the bite of the night autumn air has you questioning if you even want to go when you step out onto your porch, the leather jacket you borrowed from seungmin hanging from your shivering shoulders. no, you can’t back down now. with a skip in your step you all but drag seungmin off of your porch, those tequila shots slowly but surely making their way through your system.
by now many of the trick or treaters that lined the streets earlier in the evening have retired to bed, leaving the rest of the holiday to be celebrated by the mature population. so, the roads are mainly empty as you walk down them, the pavement damp and shiny.
when you arrive at jackson’s place you take pity on his neighbours, for the music is so loud it seems as if it might trigger a small earthquake. a few scattered groups of people are on the lawn but most are inside, and you can see the party raging through the front windows. seungmin doesn’t say anything, just shoots you a knowing look before the two of you make your way inside.
immediately upon entering you’re almost ploughed over by a guy in one of those blow up t-rex costumes, who barely spares a look at you before running away and continuing to wreak havoc.
“i don’t think I’m drunk enough for this min, we should just go,” you turn to leave but to your surprise are stopped by seungmin.
“come on y/n, we’re already here. let’s just stay for a bit, ok?” he reasons, and you relent with a dramatic sigh.
out of the corner of your eye you catch of glimpse of someone waving to you; actually, waving to seungmin, motioning him to head over there. you see 3 guys, one in a red power ranger suit, another in a green and yet another in a pink. the puzzle in your brain slowly pieces together as you glance down at seungmins blue power ranger suit.
don’t tell me….
the 3 guys pull off their masks at the same time, and you’re met with the grinning faces of jeongin (red), hyunjin (pink), and their friend jisung (green). and just to add more salt on the wound, a boy name felix whom you’ve meet a handful of times shows up with his friends dressed in a yellow ranger suit. stupid! you should’ve know seungmin was a part of a group costume, who would dress up as a solo power ranger?
“why didn’t you tell me that you were doing a stupid group costume with jeongin and hyunjin!” you sock seungmin in the shoulder.
“i didn’t think it mattered!” he whines while rubbing the spot where you punched him.
“well it does, because now we have to spend the whole night with them,” you whine, although what you said isn’t necessarily true. you’re just salty because seungmin is supposed to be on your side in this whole debacle, and because jeongin decided to change his costume after your quarrel in his car the other day.
much to your dismay, seungmin wraps his bony fingers around your wrist and drags you towards the group of his friends, towards your doom. as soon and jeongin realizes you’re headed this way he departs, running up the stairs like the coward he is.
“seungmin! you made it!” jisung exclaims, clearly already a couple drinks in and clearly unable to sense the tension between you and everyone else.
“haha, yep!” seungmin answers sheepishly as you wrench your wrist free from his grasp. traitor!
you sulk as you listen to felix, seungmin and jisung talk about god knows what, probably video games or baseball or something stupid. it doesn’t help that you can overhear parts of hyunjins conversation with the girl that felix brought. thankfully, you’re blessed with the gift of being able to tune everything out if you so chose, so you stand there in silence and dream about going home.
it isn’t long until you can sense a looming presence beside you, and you snap out of your stupor to see hyunjin standing only a few feet away from you. the way his eyes scan the expanse of your body doesn’t go unnoticed by you.
“so,” he starts, arms widespread in a clear gesture to his costume, “what do you think?”
“geez, and people say girls dress like sluts. you know i can see your whole dick print, right?” you taunt,
“nothing you haven’t seen before,” he sneers while his eyes scan the length of your body, hyper focusing on the red ‘a’ sewn into your corset, “what…. what are you?”
how uncultured!
“olive from easy a. you know, emma stone’s character?” you state matter of factly, arms folded across your chest.
“never seen it.”
“really?” you ask, genuinely shocked since hyunjin seems to love fun cult classics. and because he’s friends with seungmin, who's seen about every movie under the sun.
“really,” he reaches over and picks up his drink from where he left it on the counter, “off topic, but a couple people about to play truth or dare in one of the bedrooms upstairs, you should come. or don’t, i don’t care.”
and with that the boy dressed as the pink ranger turns on his heel and walks away, patting whoever was dressed in the yellow ranger costume on the back as a signal to hit the road.
truth or dare? for real? didn’t realise this was a high school party.
you make your way over to seungmin, who’s busy playing with the pop tab attached to the lid of his mikes hard lemonade. it’s clear he doesn’t really plan on talking to anyone else all night, and is only here because you dragged him and he had a duty to fulfil as a result of being part of a group costume.
“they’re about to play truth or dare upstairs min, can you believe that?” you scoff, feeling your cheeks warm up as a result of the alcohol you’ve consumed.
seungmin makes a noise of agreeance, his lip quirking upwards as he responds, “for real? that game is just so…. childish.”
both of you nod before looking at the floor, you drawing small circles with your feet and seungmin playing with his pop tab again.
“but it is kinda fun, you know?” seungmin speaks up first.
“no you’re right,” silence again, and then you add, “should we go join?”
all seungmin does is nod and pass you your drink before the two of you make your way upstairs, opening to the door to a bathroom and accidentally interrupting some kind of fuck session before finding the correct bedroom and slinking inside.
.・:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:・˙
a messy circle of people meets you when you enter, with everyone sitting on the floor or bed or chairs that were definitely stolen from the dining room. there aren't a ton of people, maybe 13 or so, but you seem to know everyone at least to a certain extent.
“nice costume, y/n,” jeongin practically emerges form the shadows to sneer at you, his voice laced with poison.
“thanks jeongin, it is a nice costume. what happened to you going as a banana? did you heed my advice and finally realise it was a stupid idea?”
all he does is scoff at this, choosing not to retort for the sake of looking like the bigger person.
“jeez, you guys are really pissed at each other, huh?” seungmin remarks while grabbing your wrist and dragging you away from jeongin in case you were about to reach up and slap him.
you don’t respond, but the sour look on your face says it all.
“alright guys, let’s get this started!” hyunjin announces to the room full of people, and all of the individual chatter dies down, “the game is truth or dare, as you all know, but we wanted to make it extra frightening for halloween. jeongin?”
jeongin stalks over to hyunjin, and you’re worried for what he has planned.
“if you do not fulfil your truth or dare, you will face a penalty. that penalty is doing a shot,” he takes a breath, “and showing the entire circle the last nude you sent.”
chaos. everyone erupts in anger at jeongin’s sick idea of a punishment.
“come on jeongin, that is so over the top,” one of the other girls in the room, chaeryeong, shouts above everyone else.
all jeongin does is raise his arms in a shrug, clearly loving playing the villain. ugh, you’re so over him.
“rules are rules you guys! we want to make sure people are following through on their dares! or truths, of course.”
he does have a point there, but still, his rules are a bit excessive.
the room quiets down and a few people decide to get up and leave, opting to not take the risk of exposing themselves if they get stuck with a particularly damning truth or dare.
“great, lets get this show on the road then,” jeongin acts as the ringleader and gets everyone settled, “who wants to go first?”
“me! i wanna go!” jeongins friend felix, the yellow ranger, throws his hand in the air.
“ok felix, truth or dare?”
the rest of the party can be heard as the room falls silent to let felix think, allowing him time to ponder since he was the first to volunteer.
“i’ll go dare,” he finally announces, and a chorus of ooooo’s sound as everyone waits to hear what felix has in store for him.
“i dare you,” jeongin ponders, trying to come up with something juicy and exciting, “to give us your best strip tease!”
everyone shrieks and felix hangs his head in embarrassment before standing up, clearly not backing down from the challenge. someone turns on pony by ginuwine and everyone shrieks even louder as felix starts doing his best strip tease, filled with body rolls and thigh grabbing as he peels the top part of his yellow power ranger costume off, exposing his defined abs and smooth back in the process.
after a couple minutes everyone agrees that he’s done enough and he pulls his costume back one before plopping back down in his seat, his cheeks and ears a bright cherry red. nevertheless, a triumphant smile is plastered on his face as everyone cheers for him having successfully completed the first dare.
the game continues without a hitch; chaeryeong confesses that her first wet dream was about hiccup from how to train your dragon, seungmin has to do a blowjob shot from between felix’s legs (you almost thought he was going to accept the penalty), and you find out that the weirdest place jisung has had sex was in a mcdonald’s bathroom.
suddenly jeongin locks eyes with you and you, knowing that he’s probably had one too many drinks at this point, feel a sense of dread settle in the pit of your stomach.
“y/n! your turn, truth or dare.”
you know that whatever you choose it’s gonna be bad, so you opt to bite the bullet and just go for it.
“uhhhhhh ok, dare.”
in that moment it looks as if jeongin has quite literally embodied the devil himself and you know that you’ve chosen wrong. all you can do is brace yourself for whatever dare he’s about to challenge you to - which you’ll have to fulfill for the sake of not looking like a loser.
“i dare you,” he smiles, “to spend 10 minutes exploring lost john’s forest.”
the room goes silent.
no fucking way. does he want you to die???!!
seungmin comes to your rescue, “come on jeongin, that's a little too intense for a game, don’t you think?”
“a dare is a dare! if y/n doesn’t want to do it she’ll just have to face the penalty instead.”
everyone continues to look around the room tentatively, waiting to see what happens next. most gazes are fixed on you, eyes with with worry and excitement, but some stare at jeongin.
“come on, do you guys seriously still believe in all of those bullshit urban legends? that stuff is just for kids, we’re all adults now!” jeongin speaks up and sips his beer as if to further prove his point.
“regardless of if those rumours are true or not, don’t you think it’s unsafe for y/n to be out in a forest this late at night? you know, alone?” this comes from hyunjin, and you’re surprised he’s sticking up for you.
only after hyunjin’s comment do you see jeongin’s tough guy facade start to waver, but he holds his ground, “y/n’s a big girl, she can speak for herself.”
suddenly everyone’s gaze is on you. dear god, why on earth did you come to this party??
“you know what, fine. fiiiine!!!! i’ll do it,” you declare as you stand up, adjusting your skirt that had shifted in place while you were seated. jeongin’s face deadpans, and that alone is enough to give you the courage
“wait, how will we know if she actually goes to lost john’s forest though? what if she just waits outside and then comes back in 10 minutes later?” jisung quips, and you’re tempted to reach out and slap him across the face. bitch.
“that’s a good point,” jeongin pauses to think, “ok fine, someone should go with her to make sur-”
“i’ll go,” hyunjin volunteers before standing up a little too quickly, which is evident in the way he wobbles slightly before catching his balance.
jeongin’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull at this; it’s clear he wants you to have the worst night ever, meaning being alone in a forest with a guy you have the hots for is strictly off the table “wait no, someone else should go.”
“why? i’m fully capable of escorting y/n to and from lost john’s to make sure nothing bad happens. besides, does anyone else want to volunteer as an escort?” hyunjin retorts before waiting expectantly.
the circle of people sit there, unmoving. after a few seconds seungmin slowly moves to raise his hand but a dirty scowl from hyunjin makes him freeze.
“right then, it’s settled. let’s go y/n” he states while grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the door of the bedroom you’re in.
you look back at jeongin over your shoulder, who clearly isn’t pleased. all you do is shoot him a cheeky half smile before following hyunjin out the room, down the stairs and into the night.
.・:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:・
standing at the edge of lost johns forest, you think you might pass out.
but you neglect to tell hyunjin that.
“you ready?” he asks while shooting you a comforting look, his words have no trace of teasing or mockery.
you look at the vast expanse of trees in front you. it looks as if it stretches on forever and ever, and you gulp as you think of all the possible things that could be inside, waiting for you and hyunjin to enter before striking.
that being said, you’d rather do this with him than do it alone.
“let’s just get this over with. the sooner we’re done here the sooner we’ll get back and I can strangle jeongin.”
hyunjin laughs before offering you his hand, which you take and pray that he doesn’t care about how shaky you are.
making sure to take note of the time on your phone you head into the forest, feeling twigs and leaves snap and crunch under your feet. the exposed skin on your legs stings as a cold gust of wind blows, the trees offering minimal protection.
“you know if you ignore all of the creepy stories about this place, it’s actually quite nice. so quiet…” hyunjin aloud.
“if you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s not working.”
a branch snaps, an owl hoots, you exhale shakily. it’s dark, but the scarcity of leaves still attached to their trees allows for just enough moonlight to seep through the spindly branches. soon enough, the two of you stumble upon a small-ish clearing, opting to stay there as opposed to trekking further and getting lost.
“jesus I hate this, how long has it been?” you ask hyunjin while rubbing your arms in an attempt to wake them up.
“it’s been…. 2 minutes.”
that’s it. this is the worst experience of your life. you are actually going to kill jeongin.
“come on y/n, it’s not that bad in here. at least you have me!” hyunjin tries to comfort you, but you can tell that he’s nervous just like you are.
“please, as if you’d be able to protect me from anything,” you tease, but when hyunjin doesn’t bite back you worry that you’ve struck a nerve, “i am glad you’re here with me, though.”
“i would’ve volunteered to go with anyone, honestly.”
“really?”
“...no.”
a small smile creeps it’s way onto your face at this, and not matter how hard you try you can’t wipe it off.
“sooo you volunteered to go with me because…?”
“because i have…… feelings….” he looks at you, and then looks at the ground, “for you….”
the word that comes to mind upon hearing hyunjins confession is satisfying. satisfying because you’ve known that he’s had feelings for you since the summer, he’s just a shithead. so, you feel satisfied.
“and i know it’s probably unfair for me to say this but i can’t stop thinking about you and i know that this is also the absolute worst place to confess but-“
he doesn’t say anything after that.
he doesn’t say anything because you press your pout against his, breathing in his scent as he kisses you back.
no words need to be exchanged as you briefly pull away before going in for more, hyunjins lips your absolute favourite drug that you crave day and night. a groan escapes hyunjins mouth and he moves to wrap his hand around the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in and tugging on your hair as he pushes you yo against a nearby tree.
with your head tilted to the side you weasel your tongue past his slippery teeth and into his mouth, sliding against his own. both of you parrot each others moans of desire as your hands explore the expanse of hyunjins back and shoulders.
you feel so cold when he pulls away from you, like your only source of heat has been ripped away from you eternally. when you pry your eyes open, not before a dissatisfied huff passes your lips, you see hyunjin descending.
it appears as if he sinks to his knees in slo-mo, eyes never leaving yours as he kisses his way from your knee to the inside of your thigh. with deft fingers he reaches under your skirt and hooks the waistband of your panties around his fingers before dragging them down your legs and tossing them to the side, soon to be forgotten.
“hyunjin,” you breathe, voice already shaky as you anticipate what’s to come (you). he doesn’t say anything, just grabs your right calf and swings your leg over his shoulder, his face now a mere few inches away from your pussy. it feels as if you’re on display for his eyes only, forced to watch as he sucks and nips at your thighs while leaving dark bruises and bite marks in his wake. slowly be surely he inches closer to the place where you want- no, need him most.
when the tip of his wet, pink tongue drags through your cunt your breath catches in your throat. he continues to offer only feeble kitten licks, and soon enough it has you craving more and more, his actions not enough to fulfil the growing desire you can feel boiling inside of you.
with outstretched fingers you reach out and grip a fistful of his raven hair, pulling on it and all but shoving his face impossibly closer to your wet, hot pussy. the tip of his nose nudges your clit, and the one leg that you’re balanced on almost buckles.
“you taste so good, honey,” hyunjin confesses while lazily dragging his fat tongue through your pussy, “sweet like candy.”
“ ‘s just for you, hyun,” your heads rolls back between your shoulders, resting on the tree behind you. for the moment you elect to forget where you are, focusing on the cute boy between your legs instead of the darkness of the surrounding forest that threatens to swallow you whole.
hyunjin cycles between sucking at your clit and teasing your hole with his tongue, a combo which, although has you seeing stars, is not enough to bring you to release.
“more, jinnie,” you plea, the pet name rumbling past your lips before you can catch yourself.
“you need more, baby?” hyunjin coos while gazing up at you, his eyes foggy and plump lips swollen and glossy. the hand of his that’s been laying dormant on your thigh moves to cup your pussy, groping you before he slides his index and middle fingers through your folds.
in one deft movement he slips his digits inside of you, his tongue poking and flicking your clit at the same time. your needy whines grow louder and echo around you, the goosebumps on your skin now from arousal and not from the cold.
hyunjin continues to finger you at a relaxed pace, his mouth traversing between stimulating your aching clit and nipping at the sensitive skin of your upper thigh. his eyes never leave yours however, and you feel as if you might slip and fall into his gaze, unable to escape.
“one more?” god you sound pathetic, but you don’t care at this point, “please?”
wordlessly, hyunjin slips his ring finger into your cunt. the stretch is subtle but has you yearning for your sweet release. the grip you have on his hair tightens, and you rock your hips against his face to help bring yourself closer and closer to your orgasm. the moans that leave his mouth in response to you tugging on the roots of his hair vibrate through your core, leaving you a stuttering, whiny mess above him.
“jinnie, I think i’m gonna-“ a desperate moan escapes you when hyunjin wraps his lips around your sensitive bud once more, sucking in tandem with the thrusts of his fingers.
over the volume of your own moans and the howl of the wind you can hear the squelching of your wet pussy as hyunjin finger bangs you until you cum all over his hand, his palm and chin sticky with your juices.
your heart drums in your chest as you slowly come back to earth, the warm body between your legs now gone and standing in front of you.
hyunjin looks as if he wants to eat you, swallow you whole, with hair a mess and cheeks splotchy and pink. through his costume you can see he’s hard, his cock begging to be released from the fabric prison it’s confined to.
he kisses you again and you can taste yourself on his tongue, fighting off any embarrassment you feel with the justification that getting your pussy devoured by him felt so fucking good.
your tongue slots against hyunjins inside of his mouth, and you feel him move to push his pants and briefs down to allow his cock to spring free. his sticky warmth mouth is pulled from yours and you watch as he pumps his dick several times to get himself fully hard.
his cock is long and veiny with a slight curve that has you practically drooling all over his feet. of course you’ve seen it before, but it’s been so long and you’ve thought about it so much.
his tip is a dark shade of pink as he moves to drag it through your cunt, allowing it to kiss your still sensitive clit which sends a jolt through your body. not wanting to waste any time, hyunjin wraps the same leg that was sling over his should a few moments ago around his waist. with one hand grubbing your thigh and the other gripping the base of his cock, he slowly sinks into you, allow you to feel every inch of his aching shaft.
“oh god, hyunjin,” you cry, feeling so full after months and months of feeling so empty. hyunjin breathes through his nostrils, attempting to control himself as he bottoms out in your tight hot pussy.
the bark of the tree that you’re pinned up against scratches and digs at the skin of your shoulders and upper back but you’re too drunk on hyunjin to care. all you care about is his cock that’s fucking into you, his tongue that’s tracing your jawline, his curious hand that reaches into your corset and pulls out your breasts.
his mouth makes its way from your neck down to your chest, where he deftly takes your left nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before giving the same treatment to the other.
your legs cramp as you spread them apart as far as possible given your current position, doing your best to accommodate hyunjins dancer hips. his hips that move so fluidly against you, rolling upwards and grinding against your cunt with each thrust.
every time hyunjins tongue rolls across your tit you can feel it in your core contributing to the small fire that’s growing with every move he makes. one of your hands finds purchase in his hair again and the other finding stability by gripping his shoulder,
“jinnie, hngh-“ you stutter and whine embarrassingly, thankful for the fact that there’s no one around to hear how desperate you are. hyunjins pace picks up and he pumps his cock into you faster, harder, deeper. your limbs turn to jelly as he fucks you with no restraint.
“fuck y/n, I’m so close,” is all he can pant after pulling himself off of your tits, the hair at the base of his neck damp with sweat despite how cold it is outside. the walls of your pussy flutter around his cock as you’re on the brink of your orgasm, waiting to feel your release wash over you.
it only takes a few more thrusts to send you spiralling, creaming all over hyunjins cock as he finishes inside of you. his cum feels hot and heavy inside of you and it warms you to the core on this cold fall night.
the heat you feel in your cunt slowly begins to wane, and you whimper when hyunjin pulls his now soft cock from your hole that’s dripping with his cum; some of it sticks to your thighs.
with a chaste kiss to your lips hyunjin pulls away, fixing himself up before helping you adjust your corset and reaching down to grab your phone that had fallen to the forest floor.
the blue screen almost blinds you when you turn it on, and you’re met with several missed texts from jeongin.
[12:55] jeongin: okay y/n it’s been like 15 minutes you guys can come back now
[1:03] jeongin: seriously y/n it’s been a while, people are starting to worry
[1:04] jeongin: not me of course, but other peopl
[1:16] jeongin: ok y/n this isn’t funny anymore, i get that you’re pissed at me but seriously you guys need to come back
[1:19] jeongin: unless…. the lost john legends are true
[1:19] jeongin: oh god
“this shithead,” you mutter, opting to leave him on read for now
you glance at hyunjin, who’s standing there awkwardly, looking at the moon through the branches of the trees.
“do you wanna come back to my place? i don’t really feel like going back to the party,” he says in a way that seems like he’s bracing himself for you to say no, “we can watch easy a? you know, since i’ve never seen it.”
you stretch out your hand, encouraging him to take it.
“yea, I’d like that,” you say before the two of you make your way out of the forest before strolling down the street under the yellow glow of the moon
.・:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:・
a/n: apologies if the smut seems rushed I wrote it on a bus lol
#stray kids smut#hwang hyunjin smut#stray kids imagines#stray kids fanfiction#skz smut#skz fanfiction#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#hwang hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin fanfiction#hwang hyunjin blurbs#hwang hyunjin imagines
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Was chatting with @chadillacboseman about fucking kuai liang, bi han and liu kang at the airport bc I was wondering how they got to johnnys house.
Like did they go on a plane or
Only to realize liu probably opened a portal but I like the airport idea better.
Anyway
Kuai Liang and Bi Han at the airport:
• I just know they’d both want to go in their bright ass uniforms and liu kang is like 🤨…no. He makes them change into civilian clothing (with their respective colors still) and bi han is bitching
• traveling for fucking ever and they got a layover in Chicago
• Liu goes to get them tea from Starbucks and thinks surely nothing can go wrong leaving the two of them alone
• Kuai Liang is fine, he’s okay sitting there just waiting, people watching etc etc etc. Still intimidating looking let’s be real
• Bi han is sitting with his arms crossed, grumpy af, perma-scowl on his face and you just so happened to be sitting across from him trying not to stare but you’re like 👁️👄👁️
• You think ‘boy oh boy I hope they’re not on my flight’ as you subtly not so subtly try to look at them
• They know you’re looking
• Liu kang finally returns with their drinks, bi han takes one sip and says it tastes like shit and then they start calling to board the plane
• You’re first class bc yes bitch 💅 but then you see them also getting up
• You board, all is good and dandy, middle seat unfortunately but that’s okay. And then you see the two of them come to your aisle and you just 🧍♂️
• Squished between two muscular men, trying not to bother either one of them
• Don’t even bother looking out the window bc bi han brings the visor down, wanting to try and get some shut eye. He doesn’t.
• They start speaking a different language right over your head, you just so happen to know it’s either Cantonese or Mandarin (it’s Mandarin). The one in blue clutching your shared arm rest so hard that you swear he could snap it off. The one in orange shaking his head and rolling his eyes. But you keep picking up the words ‘Johnny cage’.
• Like the actor?
• Time for snacks and you want the bag of pretzels, ready to claim it when the attendant asks what would you like
• Unfortunately bi han also wants the pretzels and just straight up demands it, grabbing it past your nose and ripping the bag open
• You give him the side eye
• The rest of the flight is unbearably awkward, doing your best to make yourself unseen and just listen to your tunes until finally you land in good ol LA
• luckily you’re close to the front of the plane but unluckily you gotta wait for orange brother to get up first.
• He helps you get your bag down ✨
• Bi han grouches at him to hurry tf up
• You eventually scurry off the plane and watch the two of them and the liu kang make their way down the walkway and quickly out, wondering if comic con had come early this year.
Bonus:
• kuai Liang stops at every gift shop because he wants to look and bi han bitches at him to hurry tf up
• “we have no use for this bauble, kuai liang.”
• “But brother—“ *holds up keychain that says ‘all I got is this stupid keychain’ and walks to the counter* it’s for tomas who couldn’t make it.”
• if they eat at the airport restaurant bi han treats himself to margs and kuai Liang plays the little tablet games
• bi han also beefs with an 8 yr old who looks at him funny
#mortal kombat#bi han#kuai liang#mortal kombat x reader#my writings#mk hc#headcanons#bi han x reader#kuai liang x reader
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Snack Wars.
my masterlist || ask me anything <3
my blurb masterlist is here!
authors note - niall and louis have done it, now it’s time for hazza to take part.
word count - 2.6k
in which, on this episode of snack wars, we sit down with a certain curly headed lad who goes by the name of harry styles who happens to be comparing british and american snacks.
"Hi, M’Harry Styles, and this is Snack Wars: Britain versus America on LADbible."
He was sat at a small table, wearing an open buttoned black blouse revealing his swallow tattooed partially, and a matching pair of black trousers, with a black version of his satellite stompers.
The scene cut to a moment of anticipation as Harry, a playful smile on his face, leaned forward to lift the silver cloche that concealed the surprise snack showdown. With an air of curiosity, he wondered aloud, "What ‘ave y’got for me, huh?”
With a theatrical flourish, Harry unveiled the hidden treasures. His eyes widened as he beheld the items laid before him.
"Well, this is intriguing," he mused.
On the British side, there sat a classic bone china teacup, adorned with delicate floral patterns. Steam wafted from the cup, carrying the unmistakable aroma of freshly brewed English tea. A smile tugged at the corners of Harry's lips as he appreciated the comforting sight.
Then, on the American side, he found a tall Starbucks cup, its iconic logo staring back at him.
"Hot chocolate, huh?" Harry noted, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. The rich, velvety beverage was topped with a generous dollop of whipped cream, drizzled with chocolate syrup—a quintessential indulgence.
Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the contrast before him.
"A classic cup of English tea versus a Starbucks hot chocolate," he said with a playful grin. "S’like comparing tradition with a bit of modern comfort."
As he picked up the English teacup, Harry took a contemplative sip and savoured the warm, familiar flavour.
"Y’just can't beat a good cuppa," he admitted with a nod of approval.
Turning his attention to the Starbucks hot chocolate, as he brought the cup closer to his mouth and took a sip of the Starbucks hot chocolate, a warm smile crossed his face.
"Y’know," he mused, "S’m’son Jude's favorite drink at t’moment."
From behind the camera, the producer, Becky, chimed in with a playful tone.
"Well, Harry, you might have to take it home with you then," she suggested.
Harry turned toward the camera, a twinkle in his eye, and replied,
"Yeah, I might have to," adding a soft chuckle. The idea of bringing a taste of the challenge back to his family seemed rather appealing.
"N’this s’like a cosy hug in a cup," he quipped.
With both cups now in hand, Harry found himself in the middle of a delightful dilemma. He was torn between the classic cup of English tea and the comforting Starbucks hot chocolate. He took another sip of the hot chocolate, the rich cocoa flavour lingering on his taste buds, and then turned to the English tea, its aroma inviting him back to tradition.
With a playful frown, he mused aloud, "S’a tough decision, isn't it?"
The camera captured his contemplative expression as he hesitated. Finally, he extended his index finger, pointing toward the cup of English tea.
"Y’know," Harry said with a hint of hesitation, "y’just can't beat a bit of tradition."
As he made his choice, he looked into the camera, a mischievous glint in his eye, and added, "But don't get me wrong, s’hot chocolate s’fantastic too."
The crew behind the scenes chuckled at Harry's charming indecision, understanding the difficulty of choosing between two beloved beverages.
As the scene wrapped up with Harry having chosen the English tea, there was a moment of transition, and another producer, Sarah, stepped in, placing a fresh cloche on the table.
Harry, ever the showman, decided to play along. He feigned excitement, clapping his hands together as if he were a kid about to open a birthday present.
"Ooh, S’under this one, ey?" he exclaimed with playful enthusiasm.
The crew behind the camera burst into laughter at Harry's antics. It was a heartwarming moment of genuine amusement, and it made Harry feel happy that he could bring a bit of laughter to the set.
Sarah joined in on the fun, making a dramatic reveal as she lifted the cloche, unveiling a new surprise snack.
With the producer, Sarah, excusing herself to organise the next set of snacks, Harry turned back to face the camera. He couldn't help but maintain his charming grin, fully embracing the fun and spontaneity of the Snack Wars challenge.
With a sly wink to the camera, he reached forward, once again lifting the cloche. The reveal this time brought forth a quintessentially British delight – a plate of buttered crumpets. The golden-brown crumpets glistened under the studio lights, promising a warm, comforting taste of the UK.
As Harry lifted the cloche to reveal the buttered crumpets, he couldn't quite hide a slightly disdained expression. The golden discs of toasted goodness sat there, tempting, but his reaction was unmissable.
Producer Becky, who was watching closely, couldn't help but notice Harry's reaction. She raised an eyebrow and said, "Not a fan of crumpets, Harry?"
Harry chuckled, his signature honesty shining through.
"Y’know ‘hat?," he began, "M’not exactly t’biggest fan f’crumpets, t’be honest. S’the texture, y’see."
He leaned forward, elaborating, "M’don't really like how they feel in t’mouth. S’a bit... spongy f’m’liking." He demonstrated by pressing a finger into one of the crumpets, watching it bounce back. "But ey’, s’just me."
With the crumpets before him, Harry Styles decided to give them another chance. He leaned forward, picked up one of the buttered crumpets, and took a cautious bite. However, as soon as he tasted the spongy texture, his face contorted in discomfort.
He chewed for a moment, but it was clear that the texture didn't sit well with him. Harry quickly reached for a napkin and discreetly spat out the bite he had taken. He shook his head, a look of mild frustration on his face, and simply said, "I can't do it. I can't."
The crew around him chuckled, empathising with his culinary struggles. Harry Styles may be an international superstar, but even he had his food preferences.
Harry, ever the trooper, decided to set aside the crumpets and turned his attention to the colourful box of Lucky Charms. With a playful glint in his eye, he grabbed a bowl and poured a generous serving of the whimsical cereal. The rainbow-hued marshmallow shapes and toasted oat pieces tumbled into the bowl, creating a delightful medley of colours.
He then grabbed the jug of cold milk and added a generous splash, watching as the cereal pieces began to bob and soak up the milk. With a cheeky grin, he couldn't resist poking fun at his previous crumpet encounter. He turned to the camera and quipped, "Anything's better than those crumpets, am I right?"
The crew burst into laughter, sharing in his jest. Harry then picked up a spoon, scooped up a spoonful of Lucky Charms, and brought it to his mouth. As the sweet, crunchy goodness met his taste buds, his eyes sparkled with delight. He savored the delightful combination of textures and flavors, nodding approvingly.
With a mouthful of cereal, he gave a thumbs-up to the camera, clearly enjoying the contrast between the playful sweetness of the American cereal and the earlier challenge of the British crumpets.
“One point to America.” He grinned after he swallowed the mouthful.
The scene transitioned smoothly, and as the camera focused on the table, another cloche awaited Harry’s playful curiosity. With a grin, he leaned forward and lifted the cloche to reveal a Greggs bakery wrapper and a McDonald's wrapper neatly placed side by side.
Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. "Well, well, well," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "Can't go wrong with either of these, can ya?"
The crew laughed, understanding the dilemma he was about to face – a classic choice between the savoury delights of a Greggs bakery treat and the fast-food comfort of McDonald's.
With a mock-serious expression, he picked up the Greggs wrapper, his anticipation evident. "S’what we've got here,ey?"
As Harry pulled the Greggs wrapper open, he was met with a surprise – a vegan sausage roll neatly nested inside. He leaned forward, his curiosity piqued, and brought the roll closer to his nose to take in its scent.
He gave it a tentative sniff and then grinned.
"Interesting," he mused, before taking a hearty bite out of the vegan sausage roll. His eyes twinkled as he chewed, clearly contemplating the taste.
After a few moments, Harry swallowed and offered his verdict.
"Well, I like it," he said with a nod. "S’got that sausage taste, y’know?
With the taste of the vegan sausage roll still on his palate, Harry shifted his attention to the McDonald's wrapper. He couldn't help but smile as he pulled out a Fillet-O-Fish box. The familiar golden arches symbolised a comforting fast-food favorite .
The producer, who had orchestrated this surprise, chimed in, "We thought you might enjoy that, Harry, considering you're pescatarian."
Harry's eyes brightened as he looked at the Filet-O-Fish box.
"Well, thank y’for thinking of me," he replied warmly. "S’always nice t’have options."
With gratitude in his voice, he proceeded to open the box, revealing the crispy fish sandwich inside. The delightful aroma of the fish and tartar sauce filled the air, making him even more eager to take a bite.
With a grin of anticipation, Harry took a big bite of the Fillet-O-Fish. The moment the flavors hit his taste buds, his eyes closed in pleasure, and he let out a satisfied hum. It was clear that the familiar taste brought him genuine delight.
He tilted his head back slightly, savoring the moment, and the producers couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiastic reaction. It was a simple yet heartwarming display of food appreciation.
As he finished that delicious bite, one of the producers asked, "Harry, do you have McDonald's a lot?"
Harry shook his head, his mouth still full. He chewed and swallowed before answering,
"Not really, but it does hold a special place in m’heart."
He continued,
"Y’see, it was actually mine and m’fiancée's first takeaway together, about six years ago. So, s’got some sentimental value." Harry's eyes softened as he reminisced about that memorable moment.
The crew smiled, appreciating the personal touch Harry added to the Snack Wars challenge.
So it was safe to say that McDonald’s got the point for that one.
As Harry lifted the next cloche lid, he uncovered a delightful surprise – a Victoria sponge cake and a Twinkie side by side. The contrast between the classic British treat and the iconic American snack was evident.
Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight of the Victoria sponge, its layers of sponge and sweet jam filling beckoning to him.
"Now, this looks promising," he remarked.
However, his gaze lingered on the Twinkie, and he let out a small chuckle.
"Ah, Twinkies," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "V’actually had a bit of a... bad experience with these."
Producer Becky, always curious, couldn't resist asking for more details. "Oh, really? What happened, Harry?"
Harry leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Well, when I was around nineteen, I was touring in t’States," he began, "n’someone dared me t’eat a whole box of Twinkies in one go." He paused, his eyes crinkling with a mix of nostalgia and humor. "I took up t’challenge, but let's just say it didn't end well. I ended up... well, throwing them all up."
The crew burst into laughter at Harry's candid confession. It was a tale of youthful daredevilry and the consequences of overindulgence, and it added another layer of charm to the Snack Wars challenge.
Harry couldn't help but be drawn to the sight of the Victoria sponge cake. Its soft layers and sweet jam filling were a comforting temptation. With a subtle smile, he slowly pushed the Twinkie away from him, turning all his attention to the British delight that made his mouth water.
Without hesitation, he picked up the entire cake with both hands and, with a mischievous glint in his eye, took an enormous, unapologetic bite. The sweet icing smeared all over his scruff and lips as he indulged in the delightful treat.
Amidst Harry's enthusiastic cake-eating, the crew couldn't contain their laughter. Icing adorned his face, and the scene was a humorous mix of sophistication and playful indulgence.
With his mouth full of cake, Harry attempted to speak, his words muffled as he declared, "Britain... takes the point on this one!" His sentiment was clear despite the sugary obstacle, and the crew erupted into even more laughter at his charmingly messy verdict.
As the Snack Wars challenge continued, the next cloche was unveiled, revealing yet another intriguing matchup. On one side of the table sat a bottle of Pimms, accompanied by a glass of lemonade, and on the other side was a shot glass with a bottle of bourbon beside it.
Harry, ever the adventurer, leaned forward to examine the options before him. His eyes sparkled with curiosity as he took in the contrasting beverages.
"S’a fun choice," he remarked with a grin. "We've got a taste f’British summer with Pimms and lemonade on one side, and a good old American bourbon on the other."
With a thoughtful nod, Harry decided to start with the Pimms and lemonade. He picked up the bottle of Pimms and carefully poured some into the glass of lemonade. The vibrant red and orange hues mingled with the fizzy lemonade, creating a refreshing blend.
He brought the glass up to his lips and took a sip. His eyes lit up as he savoured the harmonious combination of flavours.
"S’good," he declared with a contented smile.
Harry leaned back in his chair, gazing into the distance with a nostalgic glint in his eye.
"Y’know," he began, "s’actually reminds me f’when I go back t’m’mum's house in the summer. S’her favourite drink."
After enjoying the Pimms and lemonade, Harry turned his attention to the bourbon, a drink he admitted he hadn't had much experience with. He picked up the shot glass, inspecting the rich amber liquid within.
"V’not really had bourbon before," he admitted with a curious expression.
Undeterred, he decided to give it a try and threw the shot down the back of his throat. The moment the bourbon hit his palate, he grimaced as the fiery liquid burned its way down his throat. He shook his head, trying to soothe the sensation.
The crew watched with amusement and sympathy, realising that bourbon could be quite the intense experience for a first-timer.
After his adventurous sip of bourbon, Harry Styles placed the shot glass back on the table and looked between the two drinks before him – the Pimms and lemonade and the bourbon. His expression conveyed a sense of contemplation as he considered the flavours and experiences each beverage offered.
With a thoughtful nod, he finally made his decision.
"I think," he began, "I'll give the point t’Britain on this one."
His choice was clear, as he favoured the refreshing blend of Pimms and lemonade, a taste that held sentimental value and fond memories for him.
With the Snack Wars challenge completed, Harry still faced the camera, a contented smile on his face after the culinary adventure he had just embarked upon. The table before him held remnants of both British and American treats, a testament to the diversity of flavours he had experienced.
Becky, one of the producers, couldn't resist the opportunity to share the results. She leaned in and asked, "Harry, would you like to know the final result?"
Harry turned toward her, his curiosity piqued, and replied with a playful grin, "Yes, I'd love t’know!"
Becky beamed and announced, "Britain won!"
Harry chuckled and nodded in approval.
"Ah, y’can't go wrong with t’British," he quipped, showcasing his patriotism with a touch of humour.
#musicforastylesrestaurant#harry styles#harry styles angst#harry styles au#harry styles blurb#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harry styles masterlist#harry styles fake ig#harry styles headcanon#harry styles x oc#harrystylesdrabble#harry styles fake social media#harry styles writing#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harrystylesxreader#harry styles one shot#harry styles x yn#harry’s house#harrystylesxyn#dad!harry#dadrry
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Grand Prix Elite Academy (4/10)
+18 | professor!Toto x reader fem!student, sewis, carlos x reader, collegue au | romance, smut, comedy, gossip, betray
Summary: Your life turns 180 degrees after receiving your acceptance letter for the Grand Prix Elite Academy, the most exclusive and prestigious Formula One College, designed to shape the future drivers of the motorsport world. You will try to navigate your new life among the Monaco elites, survive the campus dynamics and rivalries between the faculties, and try to win this year's Elite Cup to beat an undefeated Mercedes, all while befriending your eclectic classmates, join the wild parties, have a couple of make-outs under the racing circuit benches, lose your v-card and get over that stupid crush you have on professor Toto. Will you make it alive to graduation? Race to Greatness! Author's note: This is a Formula One college AU fic set in an elite academy in Monaco, where the F1 Teams are Faculties, their Team Principals are professors, the FIA is the college board, and all the grid drivers are your classmates. You are accepted under a scholarship program called WomenOne and have lots to catch on to after years of putting your racing dreams on hold. Becoming the outcast new girl is always challenging, especially when all of you live on one campus.
< Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter > Chapter 4: The Kids Are Not Alright
As the morning sunlight streams through the grand staircases of the main building, you sit with your group of friends, placed on different steps, almost forming a circle as you chat with excitement and laughs with some racing gear and helmets scattered around them.
Other students pass you by, entering the large double doors to the main hallway entrance.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafts from Lando's and Charles's Starbucks cups as they sip and joke around, discussing their latest racing strategies and sharing stories of their weekend adventures.
The sound of revving engines at the distant hum as you all wait for their morning classes or free practices to begin.
"That fucking bitch I'm going to cut her in half! And I will tear that wig off Britney's head," Leandra lets out.
A bald Nico is a funny visual.
"I'm not trying to play the devil's advocate here, but are we sure she was involved?" Max asks out loud.
Leandra rolls her eyes at him, as does Seb.
"Still, she can do no wrong under your eyes after all these years," Carlos points out.
"Just saying! Please don't kick me out of the group! I need friends." Max goes a little red with embarrassment.
"Calm down! No one is going to do that!" Charles quickly adds. There was a time when Max was the odd and unexpected link in the group; now, everyone is fond of him. "But, it's just facts, bro. She's the one who knew about Y/N being a sad virgin."
"THANK YOU CHARLES!" you add while he giggles.
"The knowing about Y/N being a sad virgin, I get it. Naya also knew the part about Y/N being broke and this year's "Charity Baby," but we all also knew that." Lewis joins in the fun.
"AW GUYS, YOU ARE SO SUPPORTIVE!" you interrupt them with murderous eyes.
Lewis holds his chuckles as he continues: "But the part of Y/N wanting Toto to deflower her, Naya wasn't there to witness her telling that to him." he points out.
"WHAT!?" you scream. At that part, you throw your arms in the air to everyone's amusement.
"Don't you remember?!" Mick says, amazed.
"Please, be joking." you start praying.
"He is not. We all heard your drunk ass asking Toto to fuck you."
"OH MY GOD!" At that moment, you want to get run over by the McLaren car roaring in the distance at the circuit track.
"If you want a life-changing first-time experience," Lando says. "I mean," he looks at his crotch and back at you, then winks. "I have cock to spare."
"Cock to spare," Leandra repeats, bursting out laughing. "How do you come up with this shit?!"
"How does that shit work with girls?! That's the real question," Carlos adds, laughing too.
"SERIOUSLY! THANK YOU GUYS!" you squeak, furiously red.
"Yes, but Nico was there. If Nico is there, Naya is there, and vice versa," Seb says, sounding extremely unhappy with Lewis.
He had remained quiet so far before he let it all out: "Didn't I tell you? Don't invite him! It doesn't matter how much Nico swears he has changed, he is always trouble!"
The couple starts to argue.
It's the first time you witness them acting other than being utterly in love with each other.
Lewis and Seb tend to get lost in each other's eyes for hours, feeling like the world is non-existent around them while sharing soft chats and sweet kisses around campus.
"Honey, I asked for your forgiveness times enough already. What else do you want me to do..." Lewis replies, getting exasperated with him.
"Well, now that you are friends with Nico again, why don't you go and ask him about it?! Ask Nico if he is the one behind the printed posters addressed to Y/N pinned all over the hallways! OH! And in that process, why don't you warn him to stay the fuck away from her!"
"Like that would work," Lewis says, sighing.
Seb then gets on his feet and suddenly climbs up the stairs in a rush, looking really mad. His short skirt sways in the wind, his boots' heels echo on the stairs, and his bag moves violently behind him as he opens the big double doors.
"Honey!" Lewis calls for him, gets fast on his feet, and goes after him.
-
You give them enough time before following their steps. You deeply care about Seb and want to make sure he is okay.
He is also your project partner in Christian's "Race Engineering" class, your first subject of today, and knowing how prickly of a professor Christian is, you want to make sure everything is fine.
You find the couple in the hub of the old library. Walking inside there feels like stepping into a time capsule.
A retro vibe wraps you as you step on the blue carpeting on the floor; a golden glow emanates from the large windows.
The shelves there are lined with worn, leather-bound books that seem to hold secrets and old stories, while vintage posters and track maps adorn the walls displaying the bygone eras of Motorracing.
This small library is always empty since the main one is way bigger, more stylish, and modern. People sometimes use this one to hook up, hiding among the tall bookshelves in the many corridors.
You catch them talking almost mouth-in-mouth. Seb is lean on a study desk, ass on it, legs hanging.
And Lewis is resting his hand on Sebastian's Aston green pleated mini skirt. Lewis's other hand caresses Seb's hair and cheek as he whispers soft things to his lips, like, "Nico doesn't mean shit to me. I love you. I will make it up for you. You are my rock. I need you by my side" you are able to hear him as you approach them.
Then the bell sounds, Lewis kisses Seb goodbye, grabs his helmet on the table next to Seb's legs, and gives you a warm smile on his way out while pulling up half of his racing suit on his way out.
"He is going to spend the entire day on track! My poor baby always ends up exhausted after that. I won't be able to join your study session tonight. I will be preparing his ice bath for when he returns." Seb tells you as he hops off the study table.
Seb is so dedicated to Lewis and is so adorable to witness. "All good with you two, then?" you ask shyly.
"Always, dear." Seb reassures you, sounding all happy now.
"I wanted to make sure you were doing okay. You looked distressed for a minute. You know I care about you, right?"
"I know. You are a good friend, thank you." Seb squeezes you in his arms for a brief second on your way down back in the main hallway, and then he explains to you. "It's this Nico thing. He always tends to get under my skin. I hate throwing tantrums at Lewis like that, but I can't help it sometimes!"
"I get it, now. Hey! By the way, with all of this, I haven't been able to tell you yet how hot you look!"
"Thank you!" Seb twirls for you, grabbing your hand in the process.
"Your legs look unbelievable!" you add. "Fishy, fishy"
You two keep walking hand in hand until you reach the classroom's door. "I know, thanks! Lewis agrees with you. You know? He is in this phase now that I drive him crazy when I wear mini skirts. The other day, he was barely able to hold himself. He almost takes me raw at my desk in the student affairs office. He felt so hard under those pants. Mmm, delicious." Seb lets out a long sigh.
"Hey! Don't eat bread in front of the poor!" you complain, slightly jealous but in good faith.
"Oh, shit, I forgot about your virgin-ess! Sorry! I hope you find the cure soon." Seb jokes with you.
"I just need to convince Toto to supply me the injection to solve it!" you fool around.
"Slut!" Seb playfully tells you as you two grab your seats inside the classroom.
-
"Ough," Seb moans in a low voice for the fourth time, trying to make you lose it sitting next to you at Toto's class while the professor turns to face the screens again, his firm ass and muscular back in display for you two to enjoy the view.
"As you can see, class," he says, gesturing to the complex graphs and charts, "these simulations show the effects of different wing configurations on downforce and drag. The blue line represents the current setup, while the red line shows the potential gains we could achieve by modifying the wing's angle and curvature." His voice is calm and authoritative, but his hands move quickly and precisely as he uses a laser pointer to highlight key points on the screens.
Some of your classmates lean forward, their eyes fixed attentively, as they write notes on the complex data and ask questions about its implications for their racing strategies.
Toto asked the class to come up with an example by reading the intricacies of the data displayed on the screens in front of him to form a decision on a fictional course of a race.
"Shut it! You idiot, you will get us in trouble. I'm already standing on thin ice with him," you silence Seb, trying to keep your composure.
After what Mick told you, you haven't been able to focus the entire class nor look directly at Toto, fearing crossing his gaze, with your mind going back to that night, trying to puzzle all the shit you did under the alcohol influence.
Every time Seb moans for you in a low voice as Toto turns his back for something or moves suggestively, you struggle to hold your chuckles.
"Miss Y/LN, Miss Vettel, do you have anything you want to share with the class?" his deep, powerful voice addresses you.
You feel Toto's eyes set on you. His glasses slightly sliding on his appealing nose.
You go all pale, darting "Don't you even dare!" eyes to Seb.
"No, sir." you quickly reply.
"Miss Y/LN, why don't you come sit right here?" he commands you more than asks you, pulling a single chair and placing it in the middle of the room, at the front, near where he stands, in a place where everyone will notice your slightest move. "Since you appear to be on the moon this entire class, this is the best spot to get you back on track, and Vettel."
"Yes, professor?" Seb answers.
"Last warning, another distraction, and you go out."
Nico looks more than pleased that you two are getting scolded.
-
You have been avoiding going to your dorm all day long. You even tried to get transferred to another room at the Student Affairs front desk, but they informed you it wasn't an option since you were under no harm and because you are located in a dorm that belongs to the scholarship students housing program.
Then, why is Naya in there with you? It makes no sense; her parents are wealthy.
-
You close the entrance door, returning from the long study session you organized in the main library for the "Trackside PU" extracurricular, and you enter your dorm without making considerable noise, going straight to the kitchenette to place your tumbler inside the small dishwasher.
Naya is studying and writing notes on her iPad at the round dining table. There's a lot of tension in the air as you both become aware of the other's presence.
She's wearing reading glasses. You have never seen her with those before. She looks even hotter.
After a few minutes, you hear a clear "It wasn't me" that she lets out loud enough for you to listen.
You send her a look.
"Nico was inside my bedroom when you came in here. He heard it all. I told him not to do it," Naya explains.
"Sure"
"It's the truth!" She holds your gaze. "Torger is also mad at him for doing that, but he doesn't know how to address the matter with you yet."
"Can't Toto speak for himself, or does he pay you to act as his messenger?" That sounded harsher than you expected, but she pushed you to react like that.
Naya gives you no comeback. "Now that I cleared things, I'm going to bed. I had a long day," Naya says while stretching. Good night," she tells you as you look at her short grey skirt and Mercedes' blazer uniform. She is looking on point but with her tie loosened. Then you remember, you still have no faculty.
"You tell me."
-
"Just ignore her! Naya hates that, not feeling relevant enough. Maybe just try to move on." Lea advises you while attempting to remain empathic but being honest.
As you all condition in the sleek, high-tech training center, pushing yourselves to the limit, your sweat-drenched bodies showing your intense workouts.
The sounds of pounding music and clinking weights fill the air as you all tackle your individual routines.
Lewis grunts with effort as he lifts the massive dumbbells, his piercing gaze focused on the weight above him.
Sebastian, meanwhile, is on the stationary bike, his powerful legs pumping away as he sprints through a virtual reality course.
Lea, ever the showgirl, is working on her agility and flexibility. She leaps and spins through gymnastics-inspired exercises, exchanging suggestive looks with the trainer she banged at Lewis' birthday party.
"What if Nico tries to blackmail me?!" you ask the trio as you go all cheeta on the treadmill. "He has the photos." you sound way too overstressed. "I fucked it big time! I'm so losing my scholarship due to all this! I shouldn't have gotten drunk! I'm going to disappoint my dad!" you struggle to speak, tears running down your face as you fully panic at the high-end training facility.
Not even a week has passed by since the incident, and you have been receiving lots of DMs on your GPEA app of guys offering to deflower you and a couple of nasty dick pics that you had to flag and report.
"It's not coming to that. We have your back!" Seb reassures you.
"It's best if you speak with Toto about it. It's making you feel miserable," Lewis says. "Niki is the only one who puts Nico in place. Toto could talk to Niki to make him stop the gaslighting. And also, Toto can deal with Naya's antics."
"Maybe she didn't do it herself, but I doubt she feels bad for it. She lets no one get near her precious Torger," Lea adds and imitates the way Naya says Toto's name with her accent and all.
"Just remain cautious around her, please," Seb asks you.
-
That night, you have the most bizarre dream.
"You're a virgin!" Massi screams at you, his voice dripping with condescension. "How can we expect you to be a top-notch driver when you don't even know the thrill of passion?"
The room erupts into laughs and snorts. All your classmates go into a chorus of mocking jeers. "Virgin! Leave!" they chant, waving their hands in ridicule.
Before you can protest or defend yourself, Massi slams his fist on the table, and you feel yourself get dragged out of the GPEA.
"TOTO!" You try to reach for him as everyone laughs and points at you in the hallways.
Then it morphs to visuals of Toto's strong hands pressuring your hips, pulling your skirt up, and roughly fucking you against his desk.
Your bodies moving in a fast and desperate rhythm, throwing papers, pencils, and stuff all over the lecture hall floor, your moans and his grunts echoing in the empty room, skin slapping against skin hard, he going deeper inside you, pulling your hair, forcing you to arch your back.
You wake up with a cold sweat and wet panties, feeling disoriented, scared, and horny at the same time.
You rub your eyes, trying to shake off the vivid memory of the crazy dream that had just left you.
You get off the bed.
-
You lace up your running shoes and step onto the misty veil that shrouds the campus racing track surrounded by the woods. It's early morning, and the skies are still dark. The air feels crisp and cold.
You went out for a jog because you could not sleep a minute more after having those crazy dreams about you getting expelled from the academy and that triple x with Toto.
You set off briskly, your footsteps echoing off the asphalt as you weave through the deserted track.
The sounds of nature gradually replaced the silence as the skies became washed blue, preparing to welcome the sun.
There's nothing that motivates you like hate. You feel now a rage to shut their mouths, to show them.
You don't notice how hard you are running till tiny gravel debris starts peeling off the track under your tracking shoes, and you feel your legs tensing in your black sporty booty shorts.
At the same time, your iPhone bounces violently on your arm holder, and your headphones are about to fly out of your ears.
You drop yourself out of breath on the grass next to the chicane, exhausted and unable to move further. The perfectly maintained green grass feels cold and wet against your ass.
You are struggling to catch your breath, and rage tears are coming out of your eyes. Your strong, fast strides left most of your fury leave of your body.
"You good?" you hear a deep voice from a distance.
OH FUCK! NOT NOW!
You feel another panic attack coming your way and start bracing for impact, shrinking.
"Yes, it's nothing," you quickly reply, struggling to talk. You sense an instant and desperate urge to keep running even if you feel about to puke just to avoid Toto right now.
"So, you casually hyperventilate on cold mornings?" Toto asks you, approaching you, arching an eyebrow.
He calmly keeps jogging till he closes the gap between you, now able to observe your face and features. You look like a distressed mess.
So Toto is an early bird?
You don't notice the tears falling from your eyes until they blur your vision, and your body starts shivering under the cold breeze, running out of warmth.
Toto unzips his sports jacket and offers it to you, grabbing your attention.
You instantly are about to reject it, but he knows it beforehand and tells you, "Take it," before you can even wave your hand.
It sounds more like an instruction.
"I think I know the reason behind those tears, and I'm deeply sorry for the situation. I heard the gossip. It's a small campus." Toto drops himself on the grass beside you, bending his knees. The muscles in his toned legs look so fine.
Before he explains, "Nico is a highly competitive and strong-willed student. He plans on graduating from here with a deal and a seat on an F1 team secured. He has this unhealthy way of dealing with those he considers threats."
Toto notices you shaking your head.
"How am I a threat? No one even wants me on their faculty, puff" you laugh it off.
"Nico knows you got here because there's something special in you. And I believe so, too," Toto replies, encouraging you.
You give Toto an "Are you kidding me?!" look.
He smiles brightly at your reaction, with his gorgeous teeth showing. "I'm rooting for you!" he adds.
"The one who called me a small-minded quitter or that I had no mindset, how was it? I don't recall exactly."
Toto rolls his eyes at the pettiness. "Anyway, Nico likes mind games, that's all. But that mixture makes him a ruthless fighter and a true champion. He has that fire! Nothing gets in his way. Not even Lewis' raw talent or Naya's strategic mega-mind."
"...And also make him an awful human being!" you add in a funny voice, full of dislike.
Toto tries to remain diplomatic, so he doesn't give you an answer to that.
"So that's what Nico wants? To play his games with me and watch me fail? Sorry, but I'm not giving him or you all the pleasure."
"Did I truly offended you that much? With just some words and facts, mostly facts." Toto asks you, a bit skeptical.
"You made it personal. You threw my mom's passing as a low punch, basically."
"Wasn't my intention you perceived it like that. I get what you went through more than you imagine."
He sounds sincere.
"Just so you know, I didn't give up my dream. I choose to help my father achieve his. You judged me way too soon. I do have a hunger to win and push for more, but I need a chance to do so."
"Is that so?! Was I wrong, then?"
"Yes."
"...And?"
"I think you should apologize."
"To you? What for?"
"Didn't you listen to a word of what I said?!" you let out. Shit! You went too far again. "...sir?"
"I find you so intriguing. You feel the need to add a sir to address me when, almost a week ago, you wanted me to fuck you right there, and now you are fighting me when I try to look after you. What's on that head of yours?"
"About what I said that night at Lewis' birthday party, I was..." You are now totally red.
"...You were completely drunk. I would never accept you that invite, not under that state."
"So all good?"
"All good."
"Puff, great." You look relieved.
Wait, under that state... So... Is a yes when sober?!
"You know, most people get burned falling into Nico's games," Toto warns you.
"I'm not most people." You hold his gaze.
Toto looks at you in a way you can't read as he sees the fire burning in your eyes, your rage on display, and your hunger to show something.
Your eyes wander to his lips. You can't help it. He notices this and slowly leans towards you, closing the gap between you as if a magnetic force pulled you closer.
As he is near your mouth, he whispers to your lips. You feel his breath brushing your skin. "Is that all you can jog?! You are not even halfway through the circuit. If you want to put people in shame, you better jack on," Toto teases you before getting on his feet.
"Eat my dust." You follow him and start jogging faster than him, passing him by.
You sense his eyes going all over your body as he enjoys the view of a sweaty you in those tiny booty shorts, ass, and hips swaying around meters in front of him.
-
"Y/N!"
You turn around to see Lance running your way, crossing the gardens.
"Hi, Sir Lancelot!" you offer him your hand after stopping your scooter.
"Ma'lady," he kisses it, greeting you. "All better now?"
"Slightly, yeah," you let out a sigh.
"Since you have been all stressed out lately, I thought inviting you to decompress at our Bonfire Night the following weekend would be nice. I hope you can join us."
"Sounds excellent, but what's a Bonfire Night, and who is "us"?"
"I always have to remember you are new around here! It's like talking with a baby! Always in need of explanation," Lance says.
He is such a sweetie but terrible with words.
"Every year, my dad hosts a bonfire party at the beach for friends and family, like many of our neighbors on that night. We spend the entire evening there, having the best time, eating, dancing, and drinking until sunrise. It's at our house in St. Tropez!"
"Oh, it sounds so cool!"
"The guys are coming, Charles, Yuki, Pippa, Lea, Sewis. So what do you say? We leave next Saturday at 4 p.m. on my dad's yacht at the harbor here."
"Count me in!"
-
"So, I told Lance I'm coming! I had no idea the rich did that bonfire thing-ritual every year."
"It's a tradition! We have many," Charles corrects you while trying to assemble a sandwich, smashing mayo on the bread with a knife. "I'm glad you are in the mood to join us! You do need it."
"Give me! What you are trying to do is just sad." You wash your hands before grabbing ingredients and starting to prepare a decent Saturday morning breakfast.
"Can I have one? Please!" Lea smells and sees you perform magic in the pristine kitchenette at their dorm, handling bacon, avocado, eggs, pepper, olive oil, and toast bread like a pro.
"Coming right your way!" you slide a grilled sandwich on each of the three plates.
"It's like the Upper East Siders' going to the Hamptons to act even richer near water, but in this case, it's in our mansions by the beach at St. Tropez," Charles says while biting the perfectly made sandwich and making pleasure gestures.
As Lea almost finishes hers, she tells you. "Feel like joining me today? I'm going to buy my outfits for the bonfire night. I would love a second opinion."
"I would love to, but I promised my dad I would visit him and Diesel."
"Who?" Charles asks.
You pull out your phone to show them pictures of your dog.
Massive squeals and aws come out of their lips.
"I need to meet him!" Lea says, "We could go to your dad's after shopping!"
-
After spending hours going from shop to shop and stopping for a well-needed boba, you arrive at your family's components store, and you two wait for your dad to join you.
"Could you please stop playing with the labeler?" you ask Lea, amused and almost laughing as she goes all over the shop, holding the labeler gun in her hands, nearly James Bond-style, tagging random stuff.
"But I love it! Beep, beep," Lea says as she presses the button and throws more product labels.
"Hey! Don't dare to label Diesel!" you warn her as she aims it in his direction.
"Never. Besides, he would be priceless, right? You little, sweet, furry baby!" she bends to pat Diesel and says with the most ridiculous voice.
Diesel quickly turns his head your way when he hears his name, bandana swinging in the air. He then runs like crazy to the doors as he smells your dad approaching. He goes all nuts as your dad enters the store, then runs to push his bowl with his nose, knowing it's lunchtime.
"Dad!" you give him the biggest hug as he pulls you off the ground in his arms.
"Our world champion is in the house! Hi, baby, how are you? We missed you."
"Splendid!" you lie, after almost having three panic attacks in just one week. "Dad, I have so much to tell you! That campus is to die for!"
Let's better not mention the parties, the nasty gossip, all the alcohol consumption, and the drugs.
"Hi, Mr. Y/LN. It's nice meeting you, sir. I'm Leandra de Vries," She approaches you, returning the labeler to the counter.
Your dad offers her a handshake.
"Nice to meet you, Leandra. You are in great luck today! I made my signature lasagna for lunch. It's Y/N's favorite!"
"YES!" you throw a fist in the air, already tasting the flavors in your mind, all excited.
"Oh great, I love Italian!" Lea says.
"Let's go upstairs, girls, lunch is waiting. Come on, Diesel, come here, let's go!"
Diesel goes first on the stairs. He used to be scared of stairs, so he takes his time climbing them before entering your small loft on top of the store.
"This is where I live, welcome." You receive Lea inside and give her the tour. It takes little time.
"I had a closet about this size. It's cute and cozy in here. I like it," Lea says, bouncing on the sofa before taking her time to look around at the pictures you have on a shelf. "She's your mom, right? You look like her. She is beautiful."
"Yes, thank you, that's her, the one and only. God, I wish she was here to see all of this."
"She is so proud of you, and she is watching it," your dad says, gesturing with a finger to the sky before returning to serve the dishes.
You three spend a great time chatting up and filling your stomachs with delicious food and some wine.
-
On the ride back to campus at night, Lea asked her driver to pick you up, she jokes with you in the backseat of the luxurious car.
"You forgot to mention your dad was hot and single!"
"Girl..." you look straight at her, smirking.
"I already love you like a daughter..." Lea teases you.
A hysterical laugh escapes your lips. "Please don't!"
"I'm joking, I'm joking," she bumps your arm softly with her fist. "I have limits. I would never! You know, it's just my dark humor," she tells you.
"I live for your dark humor."
-
The highlight of your week is that letter from Williams offering you a place on their faculty, which you immediately accept.
You can't believe you are going to use the same facilities Senna did during his time here.
You call your dad full of excitement!
-
"Congratulations, Miss Williams!" Charles tells you as he opens the door of their dorm, welcoming you with a hug.
"Congrats!" Lea also comes to hug you. "It's super difficult getting in that one. They are super duper hermetic! By any chance, do you have any link with the Williams family?" she looks surprised.
"Maybe it's due to Claire being in charge, you know, since I'm a girl and I'm here because of the WomenOne program, maybe she gave me a shot."
"Sounds unlikely," Charles agrees.
"To be accepted or invited there, you have to have stellar references or be close to their family, which you have to be insanely rich or Formula One royalty basically," Lea explains.
"They rejected Naya, even being a Lauda! Go figure," Charles tells you the gossip.
"Oh, but that was because Frank and Niki are opponents!" Lea addresses you.
"Then who knows, but I'm so excited, I can't believe it yet! I hope it's not Nico pulling me a joke." You roll your eyes.
"Please don't mention that name again; maybe he could Beetlejuice here! God forbids!" Charles jokes.
"Well, let's get ready. The chauffeur is picking us up at 3:00 p.m."
"Y/N, so that you know, it's the third most demanding faculty. You got this!" Lea encourages you.
"Understood, thanks. It's a really exciting day!" you let out, all happy.
"Oh, Charles is the most excited!" Lea throws him a dirty look.
"Okay..." you look back and forth between them. "What's the tea?!" You instantly ask, watching the interaction.
"He is Lance's aunt's lover."
"No shit!" your eyebrows go to the roof.
"I... I... WAS... we don't do that anymore." Charles quickly adds, starting to pack his things in his duffel bag.
"Come on! You always end up fucking no matter what! He always says that," She looks incredulous at him. "That's a cute duffel!" she points to your purple packed bag.
"Not this time!" Charles sounds so sure.
"Let's bet! One on, he gets no action tonight. Two on she will suck the collagen out of him."
"Show me your outfit for tonight! You asked me to help you with your makeup, right?"
"YES!"
-
"You can't seriously be wearing that! Whose swimsuit is it? Your grandma's?!" Lea looks you up as you exit her bathroom in your bathing suit with the dress you are to wear on top hanging in your left arm.
"Why?!" You thought you looked fine. "It's Victoria's Secret!"
"It's huge! And ew!"
"No way!" You look at your reflection in the large mirror. You are wearing a two-piece electric blue bikini with a twist-front top and matching boy short bikini bottoms that cover you up to your belly.
"Also, you need to moisturize that skin properly. It's looking a bit dry." She handles you some jars with creams.
"Really?! Oh thanks"
"You always give me no time!" She goes inside her closet. "I'm again pulling a miracle!"
"Fairy godmother, please help me!" you beg, now getting self-conscious while applying the cream to your legs and arms.
-
Be careful with what you wish for.
"Are you serious with this, Lea?! Why do you insist on having my ass on full display every time!"
"Because it makes you look so hot! That high-cut V-shape is so flattering on you! Besides, all cheeky thong bikinis are so sexy!"
"For sure, one of my titties is flying out of here at some point," you say as you fix your top to hold the girls in place better.
"Your skin looks so shiny and fresh now," she says, and you agree. "You look so fucking hot!"
The two-piece monochromatic green strap bikini Leandra gave you has a tie knot front and cutout design, revealing a bit of extra skin up there. It matches the high-cut leg and cheeky back bottom that accentuates the best out of your curves; the high-waisted Brazilian thong is very revealing.
"I trust you fully, okay? Thank you," you say, feeling confident with yourself now; the workout routine you have been under is showing.
"Carlos is going to get rocket hard when he sees you!" Lea lets out, all excited.
"Shut up! He is going, too?" you squeal, eager. "Lance didn't mention him."
"Carlos Sr. owns the house next door. Carlos and all his hot Spaniard cousins and friends will be there like every year. I'm almost 100 percent sure he will try to hook up with you tonight. I manifest it. It's in the air."
You look at yourself in the mirror one last time and from all angles.
You look and feel good, and you hope Lea is right. You want some action in your life.
-
You observe in awe the majestic, three-story-high yacht that's way bigger than your house, with its gleaming white hull and gleaming chrome railings sparkling in the afternoon light.
After passing the security check, you board with your friends and start searching for Lance inside among the guests who have already arrived.
A luxurious Mercedes car pulls over, and a hot, tall man descends on the dock and boards the yacht with an air of confidence and sophistication. He is wearing a light linen shirt, blue swim trunks, sunglasses, and espadrilles men's shoes.
All the wealthy elites are wearing their finest beach attire, diamonds and pearls glinting in the sunlight.
Lance is inside the ship, standing beside his stunning mother and billionaire dad in the main salon, which has comfortable seating areas where guests can mingle and socialize over champagne and canapés. The yacht's interior is opulent, with lavish furnishings and sparkling chandeliers.
After chatting for a minute, he lets you know he has to stay there to welcome all his guests but that Lewis and Seb are on the upper deck.
So you all choose to go hang out with them and take in the breathtaking views of the Mediterranean Sea.
The waiter offering the cocktails around blocks your view of Toto boarding the ship as you grab one of the glasses.
Then you turn your back in his direction, quickly catching Charles's step. You finish climbing the stairs just as Lawrence welcomes Toto with a "My good friend!"
The sun is setting rapidly now, and the yacht is beginning to move out of the harbor. Its engines are purring smoothly as it cuts through the waves, picking up speed.
Lewis's abs look great in that see-through "Sea Maiden" Burberry t-shirt paired with bright orange pants.
"Are those real?!" You feel his abs, greeting him, making Seb laugh as Lewis has him wrapped around his arm. Seb's chin resting on Lewis's shoulder.
"Lucky me!" Seb says, wearing a beautiful two-piece ensemble: a cute baby blue and white stripes bikini top paired with a Miu Miu white mini skirt. This time, he has natural short hair and sunglasses. His waist looks tiny.
The drinking and partying started from the get-go, with music and laughter creating a relaxed vibe.
Lance and you dance around for a while, holding your drinks in hand before you need to pee.
You go down the narrow, long hallway to the bathroom when you see a girl closing the door going in. "Dammit!" you let out before turning back around.
As you exit the hallway, Toto enters it on his way to the same bathroom door, only to find it's in use.
-
As you approach St. Tropez, you can see the many bonfires on the long beach coast twinkling on the horizon.
The yacht docks at the Stroll mansion, where a staff team had set up a massive bonfire and a beach party like no other.
There are food tables, a very famous DJ, gift bags with everything you need plus luxury items, beautiful white and natural wood-looking outdoor sitting areas with stunning flower decor, and Cantoya lights that give the place such a vibe.
You and your friends disembark last. You are already having a good time on deck. As you finally make your way down to the beach, you are welcomed by the smoking hostesses in bikinis, who offer you roasted marshmallows.
"Follow me! I asked our people to set us our own bonfire in a spot far away from my parents!" Lance informs you.
And he was right. It was less crowded and far from the main action but still on site.
As you walk there, feeling the still warm sand on your feet, you pass a breathtaking house with an oceanview front and an open concept.
Carlos waves his hand from the pool there, grabbing the group's attention.
"Where are you going?!" he screams.
"To Tortoise," Lance screams back. "See you there?" You assume it's a reference. Carlos nods his head.
-
Ten minutes later, he arrives with some of his cousins and Lando. They all get introduced, and the boys choose to start playing beach volleyball. It turns out Tortoise is the nickname of that court.
The sound of the waves crashing against the shore and the distant hum of the DJ's music create a pulsating atmosphere.
As you sip your cocktails, Lance's team goes back and forth from the bar to your location. You all enjoy the music and cheer for Lewis and Lando playing against Carlos and his cousin.
Nearby, Yuki and Pippa are going at each other, sharing passionate kisses, she is sitting on his lap, wearing a tiny bikini, and Yuki's hand is all over her ass.
After Lewis falls on the sand and misses the shot, Seb laughs really hard, making Lewis go after him.
Seb starts running to the sea in his cute two-piece bikini. Lewis catches him midway, pulling him up from the ground and into his arms before taking his top off.
Seb lets out a small scream, quickly placing his hands over his chest, covering his nipples, and looking your way, making you all laugh.
They start playing in the waves before Seb pulls Lewis down to the wet sand with him.
They start caressing each other, making out hungrily, their hands going everywhere before they go behind some palm trees.
Lewis stays on his feet, back leaning against them in complete pleasure.
-
The volleyball game's second round caught your and Lea's attention.
A group of guys, all lean and muscular dudes living nearby, are playing a fierce match against the double C, Charles, and Carlos.
Their sweat-drenched faces and glistening skins make them look like they've just stepped out of a fitness magazine.
You two can't help but watch as they leap and dive for the ball, their muscles flexing with every movement.
One of them, a tall, big, blonde-haired guy with piercing green eyes, caught Lea's eye. He couldn't help but be drawn to her, feeling a spark of attraction ignite within them.
"Boys, you look so heated! Why don't we go for a dive-in?" Lea says, getting on her feet once the game ends, pulling off her clothes, and locking her eyes with the hot dude.
You all watch Lea run naked into the waters as you all scream and whistle, mesmerized by her openness, cheekiness, and hot body.
The blonde dude wastes no time following her. They get further into the waters, now barely visible; she grabs herself tight to his neck, her face buried in his shoulder as they fuck.
Everyone in here is making you so horny, and you can't keep ignoring Carlos' sweaty and delicious body.
You need some fresh air! What are you saying?! You can't get fresher air!
Before you leave to get a drink, Lando approaches you. "What are you hiding beneath that?! You are the only one still with clothes on."
"A cute and hot swimsuit," you say, all confident and playful.
"LET US SEE!" Pippa turns her head still on Yuki's lap.
You slide down your dress slowly.
Carlos devorous you with his eyes.
"WOAH! WOAH!" Lance lets out.
Lando throws a kiss in the air as you walk to the bar to get a drink on your own.
You notice, when you turn back a few steps away, Carlos biting his fist, watching your ass sway as you go.
-
The music gets louder as you reach the house's massive pool. The modern Stroll mansion is a work of art.
The bonfire roars to life, sending flames shooting high into the air as the beach erupts into a frenzy of activity. People laugh and dance, others gather around the fire, and some jump into the pool.
Toto can't believe his eyes. That's you, and a lot of you is on display. He feels an instant sensation traveling through his body.
Toto's eyes wander all over you as you pass before him on the other side of the pool. He gets on his feet and jumps into the pool.
Heading toward the bar, swimming across to catch you in there. Just as the bartender gives you your drink and you sip it, you turn around to witness Toto stepping out of the pool, water running all over his muscular body. You can't help but follow the water down with your gaze.
"But if it's the Williams girl!"
"Hi, Mercedes boy!"
"Boy?!" he laughs a bit at that.
"I didn't see you at the yacht!"
"We were upstairs."
"And where are you now?"
You point in the distance to a miniature bonfire.
"Feeling better, then? I hope you are having a good time; you look like it." You sense his eyes going all over you without discretion.
"I am! You?" you suggestively bite and suck your straw. Is that how you are supposed to flirt?!
"Meh. Lawrence is a friend."
"You can join us if you want."
"Sure, I can pop by later. Don't drink too much," Toto says, stealing the drink from your hands, putting the straw in his mouth, and sipping it.
-
Toto wanders away from the party as he takes an important call. Being the boss requires 24/7 availability.
He is close to the Sainz Mansion, enough to overhear Carlos and Lando's conversation.
"Y/N looks so appetizing," Carlos says.
"The way he looked at you, man, she is just waiting for you to fuck her." Lando agrees and adds.
"Right?! I felt the same! I'm going to take Y/N to my bed as soon as I see her. I think I still have condoms upstairs. See you around."
-
Since everyone but you seem busy fucking and hooking up, and Carlos is nowhere near, apparently, you go for a walk to take in the beautiful surroundings.
It's your first time at St. Tropez, and it's as gorgeous as you heard. You venture to go exploring further past the Stroll's house.
Toto watches you from a distance, wandering all by yourself. He catches your step, and you more than gladly invite him to join you.
Soon, it's just the two of you alone in front of an empty mansion. It's a quiet, lonely beach, just for your voices and laughs as you talk about life, finding things in common, and starting to know each other.
He gets near the sea, dipping his feet in the water as he slowly walks in. You follow his steps. The wet sand feels soft against your toes.
Soon, you are standing before him, half your body inside the water, with the moon reflecting on the surface.
You feel Toto slowly pulling the string off your top, unwrapping the tight nod in your back and causing it to fall down to the sea.
The cold air hardens your nipples as well as your excitement. Toto looks down at your breasts.
The waves move your bodies against each other.
"Beautiful," he lets out and kisses your neck. Before cupping one of your tits and rubbing your nipple with one of his thumb fingers, licking it with his tongue, moving it in circles, playing with your nipple, arousing you before claiming your lips.
You kiss him hungrily, dancing on your tip toes, stroking yourself against him.
He pulls you tight against his naked, firm chest in a fast move, and proceeds to place a trail of kisses from your temple to your shoulders, where he starts to move down to your chest. His lips biting and sucking your nipples.
He wraps your legs around his waist, pulling you by your thighs with a firm grip, and carries you deeper into the sea.
You feel your breasts rubbing on his skin, your naked skin brushing, making him get hard, or so you feel against your inner thigh.
Toto holds you in place by the ass as he starts pushing your body against his, up and down, slowly, as you two make out, your hands going all over his wet hair.
He then puts you down before making you turn around; you back against him, and you feel his now full erection on your ass cheeks as he rubs you against it while kissing your neck, squeezing and cupping your tits with both his big hands before moving to play with your nipples again.
The sensation sends you to heaven.
He starts sliding his big hand down your body, leaving a trail of warmth on your stomach. You feel his fingers sliding your bikini bottoms' light and small fabric to the side.
You sense the water brushing your pussy as Toto's index finger starts caressing your folds while he bites your ear lobe.
"I couldn't resist not being your first," Toto confesses. "You are an enigma that I want to unwrap slowly," he whispers to your ear.
You moan for him several times as he slowly and tenderly pushes his finger into you, exploring your insides.
"Warm and wet for me," he whispers, hot against your ear. You place your hand on his forearm with a tight grip.
"It feels so good," your voice is barely a whisper. Toto inserts a second finger inside you, giving you time to adjust to the feeling.
Then he starts fingering you, making you moan and say things that for sure will make you die of embarrasment tomorrow. He is torturing you with the pleasure of his different speed rhythms.
Just about when you start gasping for air, he leads your right hand inside his swim trunks to wrap it around his hard cock.
"Do it this way," Toto guides you as he reads the hesitation in your eyes. You start rubbing his dick as he keeps finger fucking you.
"Faster and in a twirling movement like this," he shows you how he likes it. It's great that you are a fast learner; you soon make him groan.
As you go on him, jerking him off, he bites your lip.
Minutes later, he pulls his dick out of his swim trunks and starts rubbing the tip of his cock between your ass cheeks as he groans loud and cums on you, grabbing your tits tight as you arch against him.
He softly pats, slaps, and squeezes your ass a couple of times as he claims your lips. You make him wrap his toned arms around you as you slide your hands all over them.
You keep kissing till you start to feel the chilly air. You get put together before Toto carries you back to the beach, where your bikini top is nowhere to be seen.
You can't return to the bonfire party topless like that.
He picks up his white linen shirt from the sand, places it on you, and buttons it up for you. Your naked breasts are still visible under the fabric.
You pull him closer, stealing him many more kisses. "Don't leave yet," you whisper against his lips.
You two lay on the sand. Well, Toto does. He places you on top of him as you keep exploring each other's bodies, tasting every corner and spot with your wet tongues, leaving traces everywhere.
You break the hot, wet kiss you are sharing to catch your breath.
"You should go back to your friends before they worry," he tells you, unconvinced.
"Oww," you whine.
"Okay, you win" he smiles against your mouth and continues kissing you, his hand squeezing your ass.
After a couple of minutes, he tells you. "I'll see you around, okay? We will make time for ourselves this week."
"Like, ahem, when?"
"Whenever you like."
You give him a couple of "final" goodbye kisses before he buries you beneath his body, shifting positions, placing himself on top of you and in between your legs, kissing you passionately, unable to pull away.
"Go," you push him away playfully. "I can't quit you". You steal him another quick kiss before he gets on his feet, dick looking hard again.
-
You return to your now completely drunk friends bonfire party with the biggest smile on earth, wearing a sizes bigger man's shirt with visibly no top beneath.
Seb and Leandra give you THE look.
And you go all red under their stares.
To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >
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HC: like if u are dating Pedro he is protective af in public. like the man is so sweet and wholesome but i like to think that if you ever get “harassed” in public or someone tried to record you,bother you, say he can do better than you to you or him he will like get sooo mad. He would barely be able to keep it together idk and like say things that would be unimaginable for normal pedro. (idk like just imagining him yelling or being like pissy and talking back to paparazzi or smothing is just whhwiwjwbwjwowiw to me) but its like sweet af, because it shows how much he cares about you. and that u are everything to him and whateverrrrr 🥺
idea ig idk
hm i will be back !!!! 😌 with more hc!! because this man had taken over me heh 😞
-thankful anon again as always still greatful for marked universe, m/gn content and the new fluffy fic that included oscar and the edibles ooohhhh so cute i melted !!!!!
I love where your head is at. Veered left with this one, hope it went vaguely where you were hoping. Thank you for the rec! :) Come back anytime. piss yellow range rover (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)
a/n: same vague universe as “marked.” apparently no one comments on this app anymore but they are my favorite so please drop a line!!
tw: gay slur in the middle. trans character, trans writer.
summary: baby's first homophobia
————————————————————————
You’re surprised it took so long, really.
A full month after Pedro’s Tonight Show interview goes viral. After his SNL debut, the following week he spends holed up recovering, his begrudging return to LA for Mando press, and your reunion in the LAX Arrivals driveway two weeks later. Four full weeks— long enough that it no longer gripped teeth into the front of your mind.
Long enough that your guard was down.
Until, of course, some asshole decided he needed to be tastefully homophobic before his morning cup of coffee.
You were midway through your LA morning routine: parting with Pedro in the parking lot of the strip mall that housed his personal trainer, and timing your long run around the surrounding area with the duration of his session, such that you were back to pick up a 2-drink mobile order at Starbucks by the time he emerged.
Your very normal, palatable oat latte was balanced atop his stomach-turning 6 black espresso shots, as you watched Pedro round the corner through the window.
Sweat is beading at his temple, but he is all smiles as he trades you a kiss for his plastic cup.
It still feels like a novelty. Neither of you are usually PDA people, but the sudden lack of secrecy has brought on a second wave of the honeymoon phase. You can just do things like this, now— kiss in Starbucks or hold hands at restaurants or be seen grocery shopping together. You don’t have to take separate Ubers to the same place on date nights.
The sun is shining, your iced latte was made right, your workout is over. There is a whole day in front of you, and a handsome man beside you. A man who holds the Starbucks door for both you and the woman pushing a stroller inside— but only reaches for your hand after.
Things are actually really, really good.
Until you step off the curb:
“That is not the way. Fuckin’ fags.”
Crazy how quickly some guy sipping a green goddamn smoothie can ruin your peace. Two guys, actually, snickering to each other as they unlock their car.
Beside you, Pedro goes incredibly still. He drops your hand.
“What did you just say?”
His friend, chewing on his straw, grins as your stomach turns. A shit-eating grin. “At least it’s kinda straight, right? Dude’s got a pussy.”
They erupt into laughter.
White noise buzzes in your ear; your cheeks flush. “Come on.”
You break away, towards the car, but his feet are rooted to the ground. “Pedro. Come on.”
They are still laughing as they duck behind the tinted windows of a piss yellow Land Rover. Laughing as they close the door.
Laughing as five and a half shots of espresso splatter across their black-tinted windshield, streaking in brown rivulets down the yellow hood.
Pedro turns, finally, and stalks quickly across the lot. You have to jog to keep up. Behind you, the assholes are yelling profanities, but you don’t hear a car door open. Cowards.
The moment he settles into the drivers seat, Pedro pounds a fist on the dashboard. Hard. His fingers curl into a tight grip around the steering wheel, which he clutches like a lifeline as he draws in a handful of ragged breaths.
You can only watch from the passenger seat. Try and ignore the fact that he won’t look at you as he starts the engine and peels out of the lot.
The drive to the Hills is dead silent. Even the radio can read the room.
Silence acts as a breeding ground for your racing thoughts, which multiply like hatching mosquitos. Your ears are still ringing. Buzzing.
It’s your fault— this is a fact. This was his biggest fear, wasn’t it? The backlash? This didn’t happen before he came out. (Before you forced him to come out, though he swears that wasn’t the case. You’d just finally, maybe begun to believe it, after a month. Or not.)
This happened to you, sure. Less so in New York, or LA. It’s almost funny, that you apparently stumbled across two of the only straight people in LA this morning. Shitty people live everywhere.
You’d both disabled the comments section of your instagram for a few days, but by and large, the feedback had been overwhelmingly positive. Until today. It’s different hearing it face-to-face.
Pedro is halfway into the house before you realize you’re home. Slowly unbuckling, you debate leaving the iced latte in the cupholder; the thought of it turns your stomach.
As you greet the dogs by the door, a distracted ‘hello,’ you watch him slip out to the condo balcony. He is clutching a pack of Spirits in a clenched fist.
What are you supposed to do? There is nothing you can do, besides apologize. You pace between the kitchen and living room, chewing on your cuticles, eyes closed. The sweat from your run has now cooled uncomfortably on your skin. An apology won’t be enough, but you don’t have a solution. You can’t take it back. He can’t come un-out.
The balcony door slides open, and Pedro is still silent as he shuffles to the kitchen. He pours a glass of water— out of habit, you assume. Though you never mind, he always washes the taste of tobacco away, after he smokes. Refuses to kiss you until after he’s cleansed his mouth, lest he leave any trace of stale smoke on your lips.
Before you can really register, he has crossed into the living room, and pressed his lips to your own.
He kisses you softly, and then moves to your forehead, eyebrow, temple, along your jaw. Doesn’t go as far as your neck, which he knows you are sensitive to— these kisses are not foreplay. They’re too light, too quiet. Your eyes flutter closed.
Pedro’s chin hooks over the top of your head. His arms wrap around your shoulders. Your cheek presses against the base of his neck.
“I’m sorry,” he says, before weakly clearing his throat. “I don’t know why I did that. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Why are you sorry?” You pick your head up. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? You… handled that so well, querido. I lost my shit. I have never gotten physical like that before, I don’t know what came over me. I’m not violent. They were just… they can’t say that. It’s not right.”
It is your turn to reach up, place a kiss on the angle of his jaw. “You are not violent. You did not lose your shit.”
“It was a perfectly good coffee,” he pouts.
“We can get another,” you placate, “but I can’t get another you. People are always gonna say shit. It’s kinda nice to have something so good, it makes people mad.”
Pedro chuckles, weakly. “Yeah. I guess.”
“If it’s easier to lay off for a bit, though—“
“Lay off?” His brow furrows.
You rub a hand up and down his arm, lightly. “The PDA, doing public stuff, I dunno. I don’t want you to—“
“Are you joking?” You are given a look of sheer disbelief. “Jesus, no. Isn’t that what they want? You want them to win?”
“It’s not a competition, Pedge. I want you to be safe, and comfortable.”
“Fuck that!” His exclamation is loud enough to startle Edgar, whose collar jingles as he jumps grumpily off the couch. “I love you. We went through too much shit, to not be able to hold your hand outside a fucking Starbucks.”
Pedro’s hair is a little tousled, cheeks a little flushed. He’s maybe never looked more attractive to you.
“Okay?”
You exhale. “Of course.”
There is a pause, as the morning settles back around you. The sun is still shining, your workouts are still behind you. Plenty of time in the day to walk to a different Starbucks, for another round of drinks. Maybe you’ll hold hands on the way there. You can, if you want to.
Pedro tugs on the collar of his white t-shirt. He grimaces. “Can we shower, though? I think I smell like the ocean.”
You don’t mind.
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal one shot#pedro pascal rpf#pedro pascal x male reader#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fluff#the last of us#joel miller x reader#joel miller
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What I think the League of Villains would order at Starbucks bc I work there and I need entertainment sue me
~Disclaimer idk what Starbucks is like in Japan so I'm basing it off of the USAmerican Starbucks~
Shigaraki - Absolutely the sugarist thing on the menu. Pink drink with sweet cream cold foam on top; Iced white mocha with sweet cream cold foam, caramel syrup and extra caramel drizzle; iced pumpkin spice latte with sweet cream cold foam and extra pumpkin- you get the jist. The least sugary thing he's ordered was a french vanilla iced coffee and even then he asked for extra classic
Kurogiri - He doesn't like to drink much coffee, and if he does he has to brew it himself. Thus, he's one of like five people that gets the English Breakfast tea.
Dabi - Doesn't understand most of the drink names, doesn't care enough to. If someone is ordering for them, they'll get the "purple one" (Dragon drink). If they're ordering for themself it'll be a hot latte - vanilla if they're feeling fancy if not just a regular latte- or a mocha hot no whip. (They feel proud of themself for knowing to say "no whip". They should not be)
Toga - She's a pretty simple gal actually, never really gets an overly complex order. If it's in season she'll get an iced pumpkin spiced latte, if not she'll just get an iced white mocha. Is usually the one to order everyone's drinks if they're going in a group
Twice - She'll usually be unable to decide what he wants to drink and will debate about it for ten minutes before deciding on what she always orders- an iced black tea lemonade unsweetened. Before the huge splitting apart + trauma he'd always get a grande blonde roast with extra half and half.
Big Sis Magne - She's a simple gal. A simple tall black pike for her, sometimes a tall black iced coffee- no classic- if it's really hot outside. She also is the only one with a Starbucks app and always has Toga scan her account whenever the League orders. The stars she gets from their orders is enough to get free drinks for at least four weeks. Will order everyone's drinks if Toga is unavailable.
Mr. Compress - For him it's either the Passion Tango tea lemonade (sweetened, obviously) or a Mango Dragonfruit lemonade refresher. No matter the drink though he always asks for six splenda. Regardless of type of drink or size. No one knows why.
Moonfish - Will order the NASTIEST fucking drinks known to man. A trenta iced coffee, 10 pumps of classic, 10 pumps of vanilla, 10 pumps of toffeenut, 10 pumps of caramel, 6 scoops of vanilla bean powder, extra heavy cream, and caramel drizzle. Or what about a trenta pink drink made with heavy cream, sweet cream cold foam on top, seven scoops of vanilla bean powder, and 10 pumps of vanilla syrup.
Muscular - He wants a pink drink so bad. He wants that shit deep in his soul. He is too cowardly and orders a grande dark roast with two stevias.
Mustard - Give him a venti double chocolaty chip frappuccino no mocha sub white mocha and he'll happily sip on that shit for the entire day.
Bonus round:
Bakugo - Gets either a strawberry cream frappuccino no classic sub vanilla or a blonde vanilla latte if it's later at night. Caffeine makes him sleepy so he usually goes for the non caffeinated drinks.
Hawks - Fans speculate what drink he gets. They assume it's something like an iced vanilla coffee or iced toffeenut coffee. This is incorrect. Coworkers assume he gets pink drinks or iced pumpkin spiced lattes. This is also incorrect. He gets a hot cinnamon dolce latte and an everything bagel.
If people like this I'll do the entirety of Class 1-A.
Since I know no one is going to read this I used headcannon pronouns get off my dick
#sascha says shit#cw food#shigaraki tomura#big sis magne#twice#toga himiko#kurogiri#mr. compress#dabi#muscular#moonfish#mustard#bakugo katsuki#hawks#takami keigo#my hero academia#mha#boku no hero academia#bnha#league of villains
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Incorrect Quotes Game
Thanks for the tag @mk-writes-stuff! Been dying to do these lol
Rules: generate some incorrect quotes here for your OCs.
Going to go with my WIP Chains of Allegiance (yes I finally named my unnamed WIP 😭)
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Bo, at Starbucks: Can I get a venti vanilla latte with um, seven espresso shots. Fen, in line behind them: Jesus Christ, just do cocaine.
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Bo, to Kris: When was the last time you let someone hug you? Kris: *thinking* Kris: 2012. Ember: 2012…? Kris: Yeah. I almost died and it really freaked Evie out so I let them hug me.
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Bo, gesturing to Ember: Fen, look what you did! You made Mom upset! Kris: Mom, please don’t cry, we’re sorry! Fen: I’m sorry Mom... :( Ember, near tears: I DON’T REMEMBER GIVING BIRTH TO ANY OF YOU!
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Ember: What’s wrong? You look 10 seconds away from ripping someone’s throat out. Kris: Fucking Evie and Bo were trying to invoke one of the minor gods again last night. I didn't get an ounce of sleep, thanks to their bloody chanting.
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Bo: Why are you smiling? Kris: What? I can’t just be happy? Ember: Fen tripped and fell in the parking lot.
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Evie: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons! Fen: Bet you I can! Ember: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial, and goes back to reading the paper*
-----
This was fun ^-^
No-pressure tags: @tildeathiwillwrite @cowboybrunch @gottestod-writes @illarian-rambling and anyone else who'd like to join <3
#writeblr#writers on tumblr#writing#creative writing#writers#writer#writing community#writerscommunity#tagging game#open tag#tag games#tag game#Chains of Allegiance#incorrect quotes#incorrect quote
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strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader
after - part twenty-seven
series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3
you reach Kansas City, things don’t go exactly as planned.
a/n: remember when I said this was gonna be up what a week ago? MY BAD. love you all🤍
word count: 8.6k
warnings: if you’ve been reading this far, you know the drill. a good chunk of violence in this one.
✨@friskito-library for updates on new parts/works✨
Ellie wakes to a strange rattling noise. It sounds almost liquidy, but metallic at the same time, but definitely fucking annoying.
With a quiet groan, she pokes her head out of the sleeping bag, finding the source of the noise. There’s some kind of container on the camping stove, like a taller version of the pot she’d watched you warm the ravioli up in last night, but more narrow, the handle attached at two ends instead of one.
The sun’s up, the ground beneath her isn’t as hard as she anticipated, and slowly, she rolls onto her knees, still encased in the sleeping bag as she shuffles forward to inspect the thing on the stove. The lid looks like plastic, and she can see the liquid inside, dark brown and sputtering as she flips the lid.
The smell hits her like a damn truck, and she groans loudly. “Ugh! What the fuck is that?”
She hears your instant laughter, turning to see both you and Joel standing at the back of the truck, packing things back up. You have the rifle slung across your back, and Joel lifts his brows at Ellie. “You don’t like coffee?”
She makes a face in response, rolling back over and flopping onto her back, and you appear a moment later, backlit by the cloudy sun, hands on your hips. “Up and at ‘em, kid. We need to get a move on.”
Once all the packing is done, you and Joel start to bicker about who’s driving first. Joel keeps insisting that he take the first shift, and you keep reminding him that you took the first watch, so you drive first. Ellie doesn’t miss the way his jaw goes tight when your voice drops and you say something he can’t make out, but then he shoves the thermos of coffee at you, stalking towards the trucks and climbing into the backseat. Your eyes follow him, but then shoot back to Ellie, who nearly flinches, reaching for her bag. “Let’s go.”
It takes Joel all of five minutes to pass out in the backseat, and you shake your head, glancing at him over your shoulder as you pull back onto the highway, the truck wobbling slightly as it goes from grass to asphalt.
“Stubborn as fuck, I tell you.”
Ellie settles deeper into her seat. You leave the radio off to let Joel sleep, and when you reach for the thermos, Ellie keeps her voice low. “Is that seriously what those Starbucks in the QZ used to sell?”
“Hah, they had better stuff than this. Bill had a stockpile, but none of it was as fresh as theirs.”
She wrinkles her nose. “It smells like burnt shit.”
You huff a little laugh. “Used to be able to get it with all kinds of stuff, caramel, cinnamon, hazelnut. Smelled like a damn dream.” You jut your chin towards the little door in front of Ellie’s legs. “Open that, yeah? Get the map out. I think I know where I’m going, but the last thing we need is to get lost.”
“Wouldn’t want that,” Ellie agrees, and reaches for the handle. The door drops open when she pulls on it, and fishes the maps out, unfolding it in her lap. “Have you ever been to Wyoming before?”
“Never,” you reply, sipping the coffee again. She watches as you close the cap one-handed, your other braced on top of the steering wheel. “We moved around a bit when I was a kid, but I guess it’s not far from where my sister was born, now that I think about it.”
“You have a sister?” Ellie asks instantly, her curiosity piqued. She’s still not quite sure what it is about you that has her so curious, her questions coming one after another. And she’s no fool, she knows Joel has about had it with the questions, but you indulge her, and it’s…it’s nice.
“Had,” you say quickly, and Ellie bites her tongue, instantly regretting it, wondering if you’re about to make another rule for her, like you had back in Lincoln. “She was in Austin, with our parents, but then Joel found her in Cincinnati. She, uh, she died. She got bit and FEDRA dragged her off.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
You lift a shoulder, moving both hands to the steering wheel. Your eyes are glued to the windshield in front of you.
But Ellie can’t help herself. She wants to know; she has to know. “What about your parents?”
“Remember how I told you they bombed Boston?” you say, and Ellie nods, remembering the story, the craters in the streets, how it looks like a fucked-up moon. “Austin was overrun, and FEDRA levelled the city. My parents were in a shelter when they dropped the bombs, and no one survived.”
The map flutters in Ellie’s grip as her finger curl, the paper crinkling. “I…”
“You don’t have to say you’re sorry, kid,” you say, but she can see the strange expression on your face, something she doesn’t have a name for. “It happened a long time ago.”
You both go quiet for a while, and the only sound is the rumble of the truck, Joel’s quiet breathing in the backseat, and the rustle of the map as Ellie tries to figure out where you are, where you’re going. You offer help where you can, splitting your focus between the road and the map. “Right about there,” you point, “that’s where we camped.”
“Okay, so it’s 76 West, and then 70 West for, like, ever.”
“Then Wyoming?”
Ellie nods in agreement. “And then Wyoming. Do we know where in Wyoming, exactly?”
You shake your head. “Joel knows. There’s a radio tower that we used to send messages through it; I can’t remember the city. Last we heard from Tommy, that’s where it came from.”
“Tommy is Joel’s brother?”
“He is,” Joel answers, startling you both. He leans forward from the backseat, reaching for the thermos of coffee. “The tower is in Cody.”
Ellie turns back to the map, ignoring the loud slurp as Joel drinks from the thermos. “Cody…Cody.” She spots it, along the fold in the map. “Ah, man, that is deep up in there.”
“Great,” you mumble, reaching for the thermos as Joel hands it to you.
“Yeah,” Joel grumbles in response, and Ellie sees the way his hand lingers on your shoulder, squeezing lightly.
“And if he’s not there?” she asks.
“Then odds are, he’ll be near a settlement,” Joel replies, “probably close to another city. Ain’t too many of ‘em in Wyoming, thankfully.”
Ellie’s eyes find another city name on the map. “Chee-Yen.”
“Cheyenne,” you correct, and she looks at you.
“Che—really?”
The corner of your mouth quirks and you nod. “Really.”
“Cheyenne,” Ellie repeats, searching for more cities. “Laramie. Casper?” Another question piques, and she turns to Joel. “Is Tommy older than you or younger than you?”
His brow furrows in that way of his and he reaches for the thermos again. “Younger.”
“Why isn’t he with you?”
“Long story.”
“You people and your long stories,” Ellie groans, tipping her head back. “Is it longer than twenty-five hours? Cuz I think that’s what we got.”
Joel sighs, and she sees his eyes flick up, no doubt meeting yours in the mirror. Your grin is gone, your lips now pressed into a tight line.
Another sigh, and then the man speaks. “Tommy’s what we used to call a ‘joiner,’” he starts, fiddling with the cap on the thermos. “Dreams of becomin’ a hero. So, he enlisted in the army right outta high school. Few months later, they ship him off to Desert Storm. It’s what they called that war, it doesn’t matter. Point is, bein’ in the army didn’t make him feel much like a hero. Cut to twelve years later, outbreak happens, and he convinces me to join a group makin’ their way out to Baltimore, which I did, mostly to keep an eye on him, keep him alive. That’s where we met Tess, and her husband. That whole crew. We, uh…”
He trails off, and Ellie sees his eyes flick up again. You adjust your hands on the steering wheel.
“Well,” he continues after a beat, staring down into the thermos, “for what it was, it worked. Until it didn’t. We got kicked outta Baltimore, Tommy convinces us to try Boston, and…”
Ellie looks at you. “And then you found each other again.”
You nod slowly, your lips still pressed together.
“We did,” Joel agrees. “And it worked, again, being in the QZ, keepin’ ourselves busy, keepin’ the smuggling under the radar. Then Tommy meets Marlene, and she talks him into joinin’ the Fireflies. Same mistake he made when he was eighteen.” He shakes his head. “Wants to save the world. Pipe dream. Him, Fireflies, all of ‘em, delusional.”
You inhale sharply.
“‘Course, last I heard,” Joel says, “he quit the Fireflies, too. So now he’s on his own out there, and…we gotta go get him.”
It goes silent in the truck again, save for your quiet swallow as Joel gives you the thermos again. But it’s only a moment before Ellie breaks it. “If you don’t think there’s hope for the world, why bother going on? I mean, you gotta try, right?”
Joel’s brow pinches again. “You haven’t seen the world, so you don’t know.” His eyes flick up again, but yours stay glued to the road ahead. “You keep goin’ for family. That’s about it.”
“I’m not family,” Ellie says, and ignores the way the words make her chest hurt.
“No,” Joel says instantly. “You’re cargo. We made a promise to Tess, and she was like family.”
She turns her head away from him, staring at the world rolling by outside. “What if you don’t find him?”
“We will,” you answer, a strange waver in your voice. “We’re persistent people, Ellie. Capable people. We’ll find Tommy, and we’ll get you to the Fireflies.”
She’s too distracted by the weird tone in your voice to notice the truck rolling to a stop. You push the stick on the middle console forward, and your eyes flick up to Joel’s.
“Outside. Now.” Before Ellie can say a word, you’re getting out of the truck, your eyes flashing to her before you shut the door. “Stay here. I just need a minute.”
Ellie just watches, the truck wobbling slightly as Joel shuffles out after you, slamming his door shut. You walk around to the front of the truck, your hands clenched into fists at your sides, and Joel follows.
+
“Cargo?” you shout, whirling on him when Joel reaches for your arm, your name halfway out of his mouth. “Are you fucking kidding me, Joel?”
“What are you—”
“She’s a person,” you nearly cry, grabbing the front of his jacket with both hands. “She’s just a kid, Joel. You can’t fucking…Cargo?”
“I’m sorry,” Joel grunts, wrapping a hand around your wrist. “It just came out, all right? I didn’t mean to—”
“I’m gonna say it once,” you say, smacking his hand away, pointing a finger in his chest. “Don’t ever call her that again. You hear me? She’s not fucking cargo.”
He just stares at you for a moment, lifting his hand again. When you don’t immediately smack it away again, he curls his fingers around your wrist, tugging on your hand. “Liv, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”
He lifts a brow. “I don’t know the last time you snapped on me like this, so maybe you are.” He presses his fingers against your pulse. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in your head.”
You try to turn away from him, but he sees your bottom lip wobble, and pulls you back. “Last night, I just…I let my mind wander.”
“And?”
“And this feels like some kind of karmic joke,” you say, shrugging your shoulder, your eyes going shiny. “We’ve been hiding what I am for what, almost fifteen years? We could have stopped this a long time ago, and yet somehow, here we are, doing favours for Marlene of all people, putting our asses on the line, taking this kid across the country on a wing and prayer, and for what? To make up for all the terrible shit we did? She could save the damn world, and I’d still feel guilty.”
“Liv, you don’t have to—”
“I know,” you say, cutting him off, lifting a hand in the air. “I know why we made the choices we did, Joel. And I don’t regret them — I don’t regret choosing you over everything else. I never will. Ever. But this kid? She’s not just cargo, okay? It’s more than that. And don’t try to tell me that it’s not.”
Joel swallows hard, the guilt gnawing at his gut, and he pulls you against his chest, his words muffled by your hair. “I made you a promise,” he says, your words from the forest echoing through his head. “No questions asked. And…it is more than that. I know that. I just…”
He pulls back, holding you at arm’s length, and his eyes catch on his watch, just visible past the cuff of his jacket. Your eyes follow his, and you cover it with your hand, brushing your fingers against the band. “Joel.”
“We need to keep goin’,” he says, effectively ending the conversation. He turns on his heel, swallowing down the barrage of emotion that’s crept up his throat. You don’t fight him as you follow, slipping your hand into his as you walk back to the truck. From the corner of his eye, he sees you wipe your cheeks, and you don’t say a word as he gets into the driver’s seat, you taking his place in the back.
Ellie glances between the two of you as he shifts the truck back into drive, the tires starting to roll as his foot comes off the break. “Ya got up pretty early,” he says to the kid. “If you wanna grab some more sleep.”
He can see the flash of protest in her face, but then she nods. In the backseat, you pull your jacket over you like a blanket, curling up on the seat. Joel pushes the gas pedal, the engine revving as he finds a comfortable speed. He puts the Linda Ronstadt cassette back in, keeps the volume low enough, and it’s not long before you’re both asleep. He finishes off the coffee, gripping the steering wheel one-handed as the grey sky starts to darken, but not into night.
He can almost smell it, the shift in the air, the feeling of rain before it comes. His joints ache, and he can hear your voice in his head: old man. He keeps his eyes on the road, humming along with the cassette, and when she croons out Bill and Frank’s song again, his eyes dart to your sleeping form in the backseat.
His eyes slide to Ellie next, passed out in the passenger’s seat, her head tipped back, mouth wide open. That thing crawls up his throat again, but he swallows it back, shakes his head, clears his throat.
Not now.
The thunder starts first, loud rumbles that echo inside the truck cab. You both sleep through the first few, but as the rain starts to fall, he hears you stirring, one hand reaching for his arm, calling his name softly.
“We might have to stop for a bit,” he tells you, covering your hand with his free one. “Dunno how bad it’s gonna get.”
Not thirty minutes later, and he’s pulling the truck to the side of the road, trying to tuck it amongst other abandoned vehicles. Ellie wakes a little later, clearly confused, and you put a hand on her shoulder as you explain why you’ve stopped. Joel does his best to ignore the twist that forms in his gut, seeing you be gentle with her.
Not here.
Thankfully all the food is in the cab of the truck, so you fish out some dry stuff, trail mix and some semi-stale crackers, a sports drink passed between the three of you. Ellie makes a face at the yellow colour, and Joel shakes his head. “They all taste the same.”
“They do not,” you laugh, taking the bottle from Ellie. “Is it weird to say the yellow ones were my favourite?”
“Yes,” Ellie says instantly, making a face as you take a big sip. “It literally looks like pee!”
“Lemon-flavoured,” you shoot back, waggling your eyebrows. The kid barks a laugh, and Joel chews the inside of his cheek to stop from smiling.
A few more puns are told, Joel shaking his head at you both, and you field a few more of Ellie’s questions. Only one of them has you glancing in his direction, unable to give her an answer. Are all the QZs like Boston?
“No,” he says bluntly, staring out the truck windshield, at the watery world beyond, smudged through the soaked glass, “no, they aren’t.”
It’s answer enough for the kid.
The rain refuses to let up, and it’s getting cold in the cab of the truck. You and Ellie switch places, some artful manoeuvring on your part that ends with you more in Joel’s lap than the passenger’s seat. You linger a moment, and he brushes his hand across your back before you’re folding yourself into the other seat. You’d thought to stick the sleeping bags in the cab as well, and Ellie unzips hers, tucking it around herself as she settles into the backseat. It’s not long at all until she’s passed out again, face buried in the sleeping bag.
You shed your boots, and Joel reaches for your sore ankle again, rubbing the same way he had in the forest. You hum happily, leaning half against the door, half against the seat. The blanket is settled over you both, stretched across the console, and Joel lets his hand snake a bit up your pant leg, fingers seeking your warm skin, massaging your muscles.
“You are damn good at that, Joel Miller,” you murmur, watching him from your spot, your head cocked to the side.
He lets the corner of his mouth lift. “I’m an expert when it comes to touching you, baby.”
Your grin matches his. “Ain’t that the truth.”
You both fall quiet, and the only noise is the patter of the rain on the roof of the truck, the softer noise of it against the windows, and Ellie’s quiet breathing. He doesn’t let up on your ankle, and for a long moment, you just stare at each other, your head still tilted to the side, Joel looking up at you under his eyelashes.
“I’m sorry, for snapping on you earlier,” you say, pushing your head against your fist. Your eyes are shiny again.
He squeezes his hand around your leg, pressing into the muscle of your calf. “You don’t have to apologize, Liv.”
“I do,” you say, your voice insistent, and you reach across the space between you, fingers curling in his sleeve, tugging his hands into yours. “It wasn’t fair of me, I just—”
“You were looking out for the kid,” he says, tangling your fingers together. “I know that.”
Both of your heads turn, looking at Ellie’s sleeping form in the back. Joel doesn’t let his gaze linger, focusing on your linked finger instead.
“What are we gonna do, Joel,” you ask, “when this is all over?” When he doesn’t answer right away, you elaborate. “After we get her to the Fireflies, I mean. After we find Tommy.”
He squeezes your knuckles with his own. “I haven’t really thought that far, if I’m bein’ honest.” His brow furrows as he looks at you, sees something unspoken on your face. “Why, what are you thinkin’, baby?”
You lift your shoulder slowly. “I thought maybe…maybe we go back to Lincoln. Bill’s bunker was still full, even after we took what we did. We could give them a proper funeral, clean the place up again, build the walls up. Have our own place.” Your eyes drop to your lap. “Our own home.”
“Is that what you imagined for us?” Joel asks you, reaching over and cupping your chin in his palm, lifting your eyes to his. You lean into his touch, bending forward to make it easier for him. “White picket fence, big house with a yard…”
The last part goes unspoken, but it’s loud as hell in his mind.
…kids?
Your face twists, a sad smile on your lips as you cover his hand with yours, keeping his hand against your cheek. “You know, I never actually let myself imagine it after I left Austin. Cuz when I finally let myself want that with you, I had to let you go, and once I let himself start to want you again, the world ended.”
Joel’s throat goes thick. You’ve never told him that before. “Want me…again?”
You nod into his palm. “Our birthday. You called me, and we talked, and you—”
“I asked you if Dean had proposed.”
Another nod. “And I told you if he asked, I would have said no. And you told me that you’d always be there for me. I thought about it the whole way home, and I just…” You turn your head, pressing a soft kiss to the centre of his palm. “I never stopped wanting you, Joel. Never stopped loving you. I can’t ever stop.”
A single tear slides down your cheek, and Joel reaches for you, centre console be damned. “C’mere,” he husks, hauling you into his lap, arranging your limbs until you’re comfortable, the blanket now draped over you both. His words are muffled by your hair. “Love you so goddamned much.”
You tilt your head back to press a kiss to the scruff of his jaw. “Love you more.”
+
The road is clear, until it’s not.
You’re not totally sure where you are. The maps have you a bit turned around, and it’s hard as hell to pinpoint a location on the map. You’re in the passenger’s seat again, Joel behind the wheel, Ellie in the back. You split your gaze between the maps and the outside, trying to find some kind of marker, some landmark that might help you figure out where you are. But too many signs are rusted away, the names snapped in half, the highway signs rotted and scattered in pieces on the highway.
Eventually, things start to look more…industrial. You’re at a loss; you haven’t been this far out of Boston since the outbreak, and even before, you never went Northwest. An overpass has you squinting at the maps, trying to find the number, but the vehicles have grown more concentrated, and Joel manoeuvres the truck around an abandoned ambulance, but then hits the breaks, seeing an eighteen-wheeler stretched sideways along the tunnel beneath the overpass, effectively blocking the way.
“Stay put,” you tell Ellie, tossing the maps onto the dashboard. Joel gestures to the rifle in the backseat and Ellie hands it to him, while you unholster your gun, sliding out of the passenger’s side.
You walk towards the blocked tunnel slowly, both of your gazes sweeping left and right, every rustle of leaves in the wind making your sense prickle. You feel…uneasy.
Glancing back at the truck, you can see Ellie through the windshield, leaning between the front seats, concern evident on her face. “Joel,” you call as he sinks to one knee, peering through the small space beneath the eighteen-wheeler’s trailer, “we’re not getting through this. None of these cars are movable.” You gesture around, the smashed cars and rusted-out vans only proving your point. “You even know where we are?”
“Kansas City,” he supplies.
You scratch your fingers across your forehead. “Missouri?”
“Sure as fuck ain’t Wyoming,” he grunts, and reaches out a hand. You haul him to his feet, holstering your gun as you start back to the truck. “I need to look at the map.”
Ellie glances between you as you get back into the truck, instantly handing Joel the map, trying to make sense of one of the smaller ones. “How far back are we gonna have to go to get around this?” you ask Joel, jutting your chin at the map in his hands. He traces his finger across the highway lines, but doesn’t say anything, just sighs. “Joel?”
“Screw it,” he says, and shifts the truck into reverse. Ellie falls back into her seat as Joel tosses you the maps.
“What are you doing?”
“We can jog right around this tunnel,” he says, three-point-turning the truck around, bracing his hand on the back of your seat as he does so, “take the next ramp,” he shifts it into drive, “and we’re back on the road, a minute tops.”
You reach for the map again, not totally convinced as he drives off the on-ramp, leading away from the tunnel.
Somehow, you end up in the city.
“We’re going the wrong way,” you say, shaking your head at him as the buildings start to become more and more concentrated. “Joel, this is taking us in the opposite direction of the highway.”
“Well, then where the fuck is the highway?” he shoots back at you, exasperated. His tone makes you bristle. “Tell me which way to go.”
“I don’t know where it is,” you say, smacking your hand against the map. “I’m all turned around, and I have no clue where the fuck we are right now.”
He glances over you, turning onto the next street. “Don’t look at the state map, Liv, look at the inset.”
“You look at the fucking inset!” You heave a sigh, shoving your hand through your hair. “Sorry, I’ve never been to Kansas fucking City before. We’re going…north. I think.”
“And the highway is—”
“West,” Ellie supplies from the backseat, and when you shoot her a look over your shoulder, she shrugs her shoulders, holds her hands out apologetically.
“Okay, so it’s gotta be the right,” Joel grunts, but then shakes his head, murmuring what the fuck?
“We’re going in a circle,” you sigh, dropping the map in your lap. “We’re just—”
“Stop!” Ellie says suddenly, leaning between the seats. Joel slams on the brakes, the tires screeching as the truck come to a halt. She points out Joel’s window. “Is that the QZ?”
Your heart slams against your ribs as you see the QZ wall. It looks…abandoned, for lack of a much better word. The gate in the wall is wide open, and your hand shoots out, landing on Joel’s leg, curling your fingers in the fabric of his jeans. “Where the fuck is FEDRA?”
“Hey!” someone shouts, and you nearly jump out of your skin. Joel goes rigid. “Please help!”
The man stumbles forward on the street ahead of you, clutching his side, half-draped in a blanket. “Seatbelts,” Joel grits out, and you do as he says, turning to make sure Ellie gets hers on.
She stares at you wide-eyed as Joel grips the wheel, steps on the gas. “Aren’t we gonna help him?”
“No,” you reply, pressing yourself against the seat as the truck accelerates down the road. “No, we’re not.”
The man shouts, diving for cover, and you spot someone on the fire escape of the building on the right side of the road. “Joel!” you shout, the rev of the engine nearly drowning you out, but a moment later, the windshield crunches, a cinderblock splintering the glass. The impact throws the truck of course for a second, but Joel straightens it out, just in time for the tires to roll over a spike strip in the road. You can hear the air hissing from the tires, the truck rocking from left to right across the road. Ellie squeaks from the backseat, and you throw your arm back, your chest going tight when her hand wraps in yours.
Another man blocks the road, lifting a gun and pointing it right at the truck. Joel shouts a curse, cranking the wheel all the way to the right, and the truck nearly slides across the pavement, speeding right through the glass front of a laundromat. The hood crunches inward as it slams into the row of washing machines, and you’re jolted in your seat, your arm bent at an awkward angle, hand still wrapped around Ellie’s.
“You okay?” Joel asks, palm coming down on your leg. “You’re not hurt?”
You shake your head. “No, I’m fine,” you reply, gritting your teeth against the slight pain in your shoulder. “Nothing major. Ellie?”
“I don’t think so,” she answers, a waver in her voice.
Gunshots ring out, and you all duck on instinct. It keeps coming, shattering the glass doors of the machines, and Joel pushes at your shoulder, ripping your hand from Ellie’s. “Belts off, out of the truck!” he shouts, more gunshots cutting him off. You do as he says, reaching for the handle of the door. They keep shooting and you reach for the back door the moment you’re out, nearly yanking Ellie out of the truck. Joel goes for the rifle, and when you shut the door again, you put Ellie between you two, leaning against the truck as Joel loads the gun. She has your bat clutched in her hands.
There are more of them, more gunshots ringing through the laundromat, pinging off the body of the truck, flying over your heads to the back wall. Joel meets your eyes over Ellie’s head, and you draw your gun in one hand, and reach for the bat with the other. Ellie gives it willingly. You look around for something — anything — that might help, and finally, you spot a hole in the wall to your right, a kid-sized hole in the drywall leading to the other side.
“Ellie,” you say quietly, putting your hand on her arm. It makes her flinch. “You see that hole over there?” She follows your eyes, her chin lowering once. “You’re gonna squeeze through it, okay?” Gunfire cuts you off, and she grabs your hand, squeezing it between both of hers, her palms clammy.
“Last chance!” the fuckers outside yell. It makes your gut twist.
You shake your head, your attention turning to the kid, who now has a faraway expression on her face. “Ellie. When I say go, you crawl to the wall, you squeeze through, and you don’t come out until one of us gets you, okay?”
A bullet shatters the passenger’s side window, glass raining down on you. Out of reflex, you throw yourself over Ellie, protecting her. Her head whips around as more bullets ping off the truck. “They’re not gonna hit you,” Joel tells her. Her eyes are everywhere, and you try to brush glass away as Joel grabs the front of her coat. “Look at me!”
She listens. A bullet skims off the concrete floor beside your hand and it makes you flinch, an unseen mark, the burn of metal making you snatch your hand up off the floor.
“They’re not gonna hit you,” Joel says, his eyes locked with Ellie’s. “You stay down, you stay low, you stay quiet. Okay?”
“Okay,” she says meekly, with a nod.
“Go!” Joel shouts, and you both swing upwards, aiming your weapons. From the corner of your eye, you can see Ellie slide across the floor. You just keep shooting, training your gun on anything that moves until you know she’s against the wall. You empty your clip, dropping to your knee to reload, and she’s through the hole, behind the wall.
She’s safe.
You and Joel pull the trigger at the same time, your bullets finding new homes, dropping two of your attackers. “Motherfuckers!” someone yells, and you drop back down behind the truck. Your chest is heaving, your eyes darting to the hole in the wall. Joel whispers your name, juts his chin toward an old vending machine at the back of the laundromat. He moves first, and you follow, feeling his hand on your back, pushing you to safety.
The crunch of glass gives the guy away, and you straighten, pushing Joel’s shoulder down and pulling the trigger at the same time. It only takes one shot to drop him. You’re trying to catch your breath, forcing your eyes away from the blood now pooling around the guy’s head. Joel pulls the lever on the rifle, but it’s jammed. He curses, yanking on it hard, just as back doors you hadn’t noticed burst open, a new opponent barreling through.
Without thinking, you throw yourself in the line of fire, angling yourself in front of Joel. There’s a barrel of a shotgun in your face, and your instincts kick into gear. You swing the bat up, knocking the barrel away as the man pulls the trigger, the shot hitting the ceiling instead of you. But it’s not enough to loosen his grip.
The butt of the shotgun cracks across your face a second later, your vision instantly tinging black, and you go toppling, your head hitting the ground hard. Joel screams your name, but the sound is distant. The bat skitters out of your grip, but you have the wherewithal to keep your fingers tight around your gun. Joel, where is J—
You black out for a moment, the world slipping away completely, but a loud bang yanks you back, pained grunting following. “Now you’re gonna fuckin’ pay!” Your head lolls to the side, and you can’t quite make out what’s happening. Your head screams at you to move, and you see Joel’s boots scraping against the floor. Someone’s on him, someone’s—
Another shot rings out. It makes your ears ring. Someone shouts, and Joel starts coughing. He’s gasping, wheezing, crawling on his hands and knees toward you. He grabs your face in his hands, and something on your cheek feels hot, too hot. “Liv,” he calls, his voice hoarse. “Baby, are you okay?”
Slowly, he helps you up. Your head is spinning, but over his shoulder, you see Ellie step forward, her gun trained on your attacker, now sprawled on the floor. Joel’s eyes follow yours, and they widen when he sees her weapon of choice. The realization makes your heart twist; she shot the guy attacking you.
Joel pulls his hand from your face, and you see it’s covered in blood. The man groans, and when he spots Ellie and her gun, he lifts his hands in surrender. “No, no, no, no, it’s okay! It’s over! We’re not fighting anymore.” He wheezes, clearly in pain, and Joel gets to his feet, reaching down for you, his eyes trained on the guy.
He looks young. Too young.
“I’m gonna go home,” he says, “and I’ll tell everyone you’re good.” He starts crying, his voice going high-pitched. “I don’t know what to do! My legs don’t work!”
Even through your haze, you can put two and two together. She must have hit him in the spine.
“My mom isn’t far,” he continues, near sobbing. “If you could get me to her.” His eyes cut to you and Joel, now on your feet. You stumble slightly, but Joel has a tight grip on you. “We could trade with you guys. We could be friends. I didn’t know. I’m Bryan. I’m Bryan.”
Still with a tight grip on you, Joel turns to Ellie. She lowers the gun, and he holds his hand out. You open your mouth to say something, but she sniffs, shaking her head, and hands it to him. One-handed, Joel tucks it into the waist of his jeans.
“Take her,” he says to Ellie, and it takes a second for you to realize he’s referring to you. His grip on you disappears, and for a moment, you think you might topple over, but Ellie fits herself beneath your arm, one arm tight around your waist, tugging your arm around her shoulders.
Joel pulls out his knife. “Wait, wait, wait!” Bryan shouts, and pulls a knife from his belt, letting it clatter to the floor. “You can have it! It’s a good knife.”
“Turn around,” Joel says, nailing Ellie with dark eyes that send a chill down your spine. His tone clears away some of the haze in your head. “Now.”
“No, no, no, no!” Bryan shouts again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
“Liv,” Joel calls, his tone still shiver-inducing. Blinking hard, you turn Ellie towards the wall, angling yourself in front of her. She’s still holding you upright, and buries her face in your chest. You can feel the tears on her cheeks, and you lift your hand, letting it rest on the back of her head.
“Please, please, please,” Bryan whimpers.
“Cover your ears,” you whisper to Ellie, propping your chin on the top of her head. Blood drips down your face, sticky and hot, and you ignore it as best you can, though it’s hard to ignore the throb in your cheek.
“I’m sorry, please! You don’t have to! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please!”
Ellie’s breathing gets heavy, the front of your shirt almost damp with it.
You hear Joel take the man’s life. You wait until the gasping stops, and then you tap Ellie’s shoulder. “It’s over.” For a moment, she doesn’t move, squeezing both arms around you. You sway slightly, and Joel’s hand touches between your shoulders. It makes you flinch, and Ellie jumps back, pressing herself to the wall.
He’s got your chin in his hand a second later, turning your head slightly, giving you a once-over. “You okay? Nothing broken?”
“Hurts,” you admit, and he wipes away a bit of the blood with his sleeve. “I’ll live.”
Ellie’s eyes dart past Joel, towards where Bryan lies, and he steps to the side, blocking her view, taking you with him. Joel gestures to the hole. “Need you to find a door or something, we’re not gonna fit through that.”
She nods, her lip quivering, and immediately climbs back through the hole, disappearing from view. Joel grabs your chin again, and you notice how heavy his breathing is, how shaky his hands are. It’s quiet, for a moment, no more gunfire or shouting. “Scared me.”
“Makes two of us,” you agree, sighing as he leans in, pressing a kiss to the uninjured side of your face, right at your jaw. “We need to get out of here.”
He glances over your shoulder at the wrench of the truck and the front of the laundromat. “Truck’s toast, we’ll figure it out. We need to find somewhere safe, for the night at least. High up, find a way out of the city. And get you cleaned up.” He bends slightly, peering through the hole in the wall. “Ellie!”
“There’s some stuff against the door,” she calls back, and you can hear her sigh.
Joel’s jaw goes tight. “Well, can you move it?”
It’s slow-going. Your head throbs with every step, twin shocks of pain in your skull and along your cheek. Joel’s grip is tight around your waist, his head whipping in every direction as he keeps you close to the building, and then he leans you against the front of brick as Ellie pulls whatever’s blocking the door out of the way, Joel pushing hard against it to help. The moment the door swings inward, he rushes you in, shuts the door, and then motions for Ellie to help push the table back into place. “Let’s go,” he says to her. “Fast.”
“Right.”
The door clangs as the table is pushed back into it. The noise makes your ears ring, and you sag against the table, exhaling heavily. Ellie sniffs loudly, and both you and Joel look at her. “I’m okay,” she says quickly, dropping down to grab her backpack. “I’m good.” She sets the bag on the table, unzips it. “I, uh, got some food in here still, and I got your light,” she says, and pulls out Joel’s flashlight, handing it to him. She looks between the two of you, wincing when she sees the blood on your face. “Fuck, Liv, are you—”
“I’ll be fine, kid,” you tell her, ignoring the way the words make your head throb. Your breath hitches, and you glance across at the hole in the wall. “Shit, Joel, the bat.”
His face goes hard, and you know what he’s gonna say. You can’t go back over there. There are bodies, evidence of the violence, and whoever sent the men will come looking. Standing here as long as you have is risk enough. “Liv, we—”
“I’ll go,” Ellie says, already walking toward the wall. “I can grab it and just—”
The distant screech of tires makes you freeze and you flash your hand out, grabbing the back of her coat and hauling her backward. “Leave it,” you grit out, lifting yourself up off the table. “We need to go now.”
“Where?” Ellie asks, and Joel heads to the door in the back of the room, clicking his flashlight on as he pushes it open slowly. Ellie fits herself under your arm again, your forearm resting on her backpack. “What are we gonna do now?”
“We go up,” you tell her, echoing what Joel had said earlier. “See if we can spot a path outta here.”
Joel glances over his shoulder at you, eyeing your arm around the kid’s shoulders. “Stay close.”
She nods. “Got it.”
You follow Joel down a hallway that leads out into an alley beside the building. There are cars scattered, and as the rumble of a truck gets closer, you duck down, wincing as you go, hiding behind an SUV as a pickup rolls past the mouth of the alleyway, followed by a larger armoured truck.
They start shouting Bryan’s name.
Joel signals for you to stay put, and darts across the alley, to the side door of the building across the way. You hold your breath as he pulls it open, peering inside before turning back to you and Ellie, giving a quick nod. You rise slowly, but then push yourself, moving as fast as you can across the pavement to Joel’s side. He leads you inside, and Ellie pulls the door shut behind you.
It’s dark inside, and for a moment, you pause. Joel puts his gun away, and you follow suit. You sag against the wall slightly, and he’s got his hand under your chin. “Look at me,” he commands, and you listen, blinking hard as you stare back at him. “Think it’s a concussion?”
“No,” you tell him, lifting your head out of his palm. “I’m fine, Joel.” It comes out snappier than you intend, and your body gives you away, wobbling slightly with the turn of your head. “Fuck. I just need to sit down a minute, or something.”
As quietly as possible, you make your way through the building. It seems to be some kind of abandoned retail space, a bunch of different stores and shops connected by one main hallway. Right at the end of the block is an old coffee house, and Joel decides it’s a good place to spot, seeing the newspaper-covered windows and dark-painted walls.
“Are we okay in here?” Ellie asks as you walk in, Joel heading for the front of the shop. You watch as he peels back a small corner of the newspaper, just enough to peer through, and you sink into a chair nearby.
“For now,” you tell her, and wipe some more of the blood from your face. The bleeding’s stopped, as far as you can tell, and something in your chest pangs as Ellie reaches into her bag and pulls out what looks like an old t-shirt.
“Here,” she says, handing it to you. “It’s mostly clean.”
The corner of your mouth twitches. “Thanks, kid.”
Silence settles over the three of you as Joel peers out the window. “That wasn’t FEDRA that attacked us,” you say as he sinks back a little.
“Wasn’t Fireflies either,” Ellie says, and you nod. “Then who are they?”
“People,” Joel sighs. “Looks like they’re checkin’ out apartment buildings first.” He shakes his head. “But they’ll be comin’ through these places soon enough.” He rises to his feet, turning and walking towards you. Ellie takes his place, looking through the crack in the newspaper. He taps your shoulder as soon as he’s close enough, and takes the t-shirt from you. You can almost hear the ache in his knees as he crouches down and starts wiping the blood from your face. His face is a hard mask, and you can stop yourself from cupping his cheek, swiping your thumb across his cheekbone. “When he burst through the door back there,” he mutters, shaking his head ever so slightly, “and then I saw you drop. I heard the shot, but I didn’t see where he—”
“Joel,” you murmur, brushing your fingers through his hair. “We’re fine. I’m fine.”
“Cracked you damn good,” he replies, dabbing lightly. You try not to wince. “Lucky it didn’t break your cheekbone.”
Before you can respond, Ellie pipes up. “There’s a really tall building, like, four blocks away.”
“Yeah,” Joel grunts, and hands you the now-stained t-shirt. You hold it against your cheek, watching as he sinks into the chair across from yours. “Saw it.”
“That’s where we’re going?” she asks, glancing at you over her shoulder. “Up?”
Joel nods. “As soon as we don’t hear a truck, we move. Fast as we can.”
He props his elbow on the table, puts his face in his hand, and you reach over, curling your fingers around his forearm. He’s shaking.
You murmur his name as Ellie slides down to sit against the wall, drawing her knees up to his chest. He doesn’t answer you, but drops his hand, catching yours in the process. “Are you okay?” Ellie asks, and when your eyes flick to her, you see she’s addressing Joel.
“I’m all right,” he grumbles, but his fingers twitch against yours, his brow furrowing. Damn that hard mask of his. “Are you…all right?” he asks in return, and you press your fingers against his wrist. His heartbeat races beneath his skin.
“Yeah,” Ellie says quietly, but she doesn’t elaborate.
“Joel,” you murmur again, and he shakes his head, staring down at his boots. You don’t have to see his face to know the guilt, the realization. If Ellie hadn’t done what she had, you’d probably all be laying dead in that laundromat.
“Thing is,” Joel says after a moment, his voice gruff, “is I didn’t hear that guy comin’. And…you…you shouldn’t have had to…you know?”
God, he’s bad at this. You know what he’s trying to say to her, but you can’t try and take over. He needs to say this himself.
“Well, you’re glad I did, right?” Ellie asks, and her eyes dart to you for a second.
“You’re just a kid,” he says, and suddenly your chest feels tight. “You shouldn’t know what it means to…” He trails off, but then lifts a hand. “It’s not like you killed him, but, shootin’ or…I know what it’s like, first time you, uh, hurt someone like that.”
Her eyes slide fully to you for a moment, and you just nod in return, the message silent. I do too.
“If you, uh, w—uh,” Joel tries to continue, but shakes his head, looking at you, a near cry for help in his eyes. “I’m not good at this.”
“Yeah, you really aren’t,” Ellie quips, and you squeeze his hand.
“I mean, it was my fault,” he says, shaking his head some more. “You shouldn’t have had to. And I’m sorry.”
You haven’t had a chance, really, to take in what happened. What Ellie did. Listening to Joel now, feeling his pulse race beneath your fingers, and seeing tears on the kid’s face as he tells her he’s sorry…It breaks your heart.
“I should have heard it,” you say, and Joel’s eyes flick to you. You lift your chin, ignoring the way your gut twists as Ellie wipes her cheeks. “I should have shot first, and I didn’t. I’m sorry, too, Ellie. I am. We’re here to protect you, and we…Joel’s right. You shouldn’t have had to do it.”
She nails you to your spot with those big dark eyes, wet with tears. That thing you’ve been feeling since this kid barrelled her way into your lives screams at you to grab her, to hug her close and tell her everything is gonna be okay, but you feel frozen, stuck in place, unable to move.
“It wasn’t my first time,” Ellie tells you both, and your brows raise. You can see the shock on Joel’s face, too.
Your fingers tap against Joel’s wrist. “Give her the gun.”
His head snaps back to you, one brow lifting slightly.
“It’s hers,” you prompt, lifting your chin slightly. “Give it back.”
Slowly, he moves over, closing the small space between the two of you and her, leaning down on one knee as he pulls the gun out of the back of his jeans. Ellie’s face perks up as he hands the small pistol back to her after pulling out the clip. “Show me your grip.”
She stares up at him as she does as asked, obeying when Joel tells her to take her finger off the trigger.
“Now, who taught you that?”
“FEDRA school,” she answers.
“Figures,” he grunts, and you push your chin into your palm as he reaches for her hands, adjusting her grip, showing her the proper way. The thing in your chest relaxes slightly, watching him with her. “Thumb over your thumb. Left hand squeezes down on the right. You got it?” She nods, doing what he tells her. You hear his voice soften ever so slightly. “There ya go.”
Ellie looks at you over Joel’s shoulder, almost like she’s looking for your approval. You try to blink away the wetness that’s formed in your eyes, and nod at her, giving her a little grin.
“Now, look it,” Joel says, and grabs the top of the gun, trying to pull it away. But she’s got the grip right and the gun doesn’t budge. Joel pulls again, nearly yanking her off the wall, and Ellie laughs. Then she relaxes, the laughter trailing off, but the smile on her face stays in place. “Okay?”
She nods. Joel gestures for the gun back, slides the clip back into place, and Ellie watches his movements. He hands it back to her, handle first, and the triumphant look on her face almost makes you laugh. She goes to put it in her pocket, but Joel stops her.
“Nuh-uh, you put it in your pack. You’ll shoot your damn ass off.” He gets back to his feet with a loud groan, and walks back to you. “How’s your head?”
“It’s okay,” you tell him, and take his offered hand, letting him help you up. You stuff the bloody t-shirt in the pocket of your coat. “I’ll feel better when we find somewhere safe for the night.” As of on cue, your face throbs so hard your eyes flutter shut. Joel squeezes your hip. “I’d murder for an ice pack right now.”
It’s a few more minutes, a few more pauses to determine where the truck that rumbles past goes, before Joel walks to the shop’s front door, starting to pull at the wood that’s been nailed over it. You try to help, but he waves you off. Once the door is free, Ellie comes up beside you, her hand slipping into yours. Joel sees it, and his eyes move from your hands to your faces, one at a time.
“We’ll get through this,” he says to Ellie, and you tighten your grip on her hand.
She gives a little nod. “I know.”
Without another word, Joel yanks the door open, and you step out into the daylight.
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#my fics#strawberry wine#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fluff#joel miller angst#the last of us#the last of us fic#the last of us spoilers#joel miller x oc#joel miller x liv stone
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Fluffy Feb Day 6- Coffee Order
Warnings: platonic relationship (if I had another 2k in me they would have fucked in the broom closet though), BAU reader, mentions of arson case
Pairing: Hotch x blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 665
When you’re on a case, you require caffeine. It’s a plain and simple fact, akin to how oxygen is required for breathing. That means that whenever necessary, any member of the team is ready to make a pot of bitter precinct coffee that you all have to swallow down. No matter how awful it tastes, you’ve always reasoned that caffeine is caffeine.
At least, that was your reasoning until a series of arsons lands you in Kansas at a precinct with some of the worst coffee you’ve ever tasted in your life. “It’s like drinking tar,” you had complained to Emily on the first day, your voice lowered so as not to insult any LEOs.
She had smirked at you and tipped her mug in your direction. “Tar tastes better than this,” she joked, and that was the end of the conversation.
For all your work in body language and human behaviour, you don’t work hard to have a poker face when it seems like no one is watching. The next few days contain countless cups of coffee lifted to your lips, each swig followed by a grimace. How can the officers stomach this stuff?
You don’t figure it out. On day four, you’re at the precinct with Spencer going over the geographical profile to work in the location of the newest fire while everyone else is spread between the morgue and the crime scenes. Your colleague is stirring his tea, mumbling something under his breath about equidistance while you scroll through police reports of interest that Garcia has sent your way.
“How is it going?” Hotch’s voice enters the room before he does, commanding attention before his presence can. When he steps through the doorway, your mouth waters at the sight of the Starbucks cup clutched in his left hand.
“It’s going well, actually. We found two points of intersection between the fires that could be a potential hideout or location of significance to our unsub, and if we cross-reference that with our profile…” You love Spencer, but you’ve been stuck in this room with him for two out of the four days you’ve been in this city and you’re half a ramble away from losing your mind, so you close your eyes and try to tune him out momentarily.
They don’t reopen until Spencer has fallen silent and Hotch speaks up to ask him a question. The Starbucks cup is sitting on the table in front of you now, your precinct mug nowhere to be seen. ‘Aaron’ is scrawled on the cup, but familiar handwriting has drawn a neat line through that and written your name underneath.
You’re hesitant, but Hotch catches your eye and gives you a nod midsentence so you reach out to wrap a hand around the cup. It’s warm, the perfect temperature for a Wichita November drink.
When you take the first sip, you tip your head back and allow the flavour of the coffee to sit on your tongue. It’s the same thing you order every time someone goes on a real coffee run, but Hotch is never the person collecting that information. How did he know?
Paying no heed to the conversation between the two men, you butt in with one hand raising the coffee. “You didn’t have to do this, Hotch. How much do I owe you?”
He shakes his head, sparing you a quick glance. Hotch never looks at you for longer than a moment at a time; as far as the members of his team go, you’ve been operating under the assumption that you fly under his radar for the most part.
Apparently, that’s not true. “Nothing. I can’t have one of my best agents drinking tar on the field, can I?” He shoots you a wink that’s just between the two of you, completely missed by Spencer as the younger agent turns back toward his profile.
In turn, you smile at him and bring the cup to your lips. Under his radar, indeed.
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#my writing#t’s blurbs#fluffy feb#doctorsteths fluffy feb#aaron hotchner x fem reader#aaron hotchner x female reader#hotch x fem reader#hotch x female reader#hotch x you#Aaron hotchner#hotch x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction#hotch fanfic#hotch fanfiction#cm fanfic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#aaron hotchner fluff#hotch fluff#hotch x reader fluff#Aaron hotchner x reader fluff
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Of Fire and Ice - Chapter 4
Melissa Schemmenti X reader X Larissa Weemes
Summary: soft Mel
Words: idk
Notes: I did a thing
Warnings: none
You walk into the school stopping to sign in before walking to the staff room. You set a coffee In Melissa’s hands. Briefly remembering her Starbucks order from the last time Ava went out for y’all. “Teacher appreciation or whatever” you knew your need to know everything would come in handy one day.
“What’s this for?” She smiles at you taking a sip. “How did you know my order?” She asked surprised.
You chuckle “it’s a thank you in advance have to treat my lady right” you feel your throat clenched and swallow hard. “As for your order I’m just that good”
“Your lady? Hmm I like the sound of that” she bumps shoulders with you, Barbara shaking her head at the both of y’all.
“Careful Schemmenti or I’ll fall in love”
“Promise?” She looks at you smirking.
You gulp hard she is kidding she has to be right? You can feel your heart pounding.
“I-I um-“ “so I have been doing research on witches!” Jacob states as he and Janine walk in. Thankful for the distraction you look up at him. “Oh yeah? What about us did you learn?”
“So there are different kinds right? Wiccan, pagan, Strega.” You nod for him to continue “so like Hocus Pocus-“ “nope not doing this” you shake your head laughing.
“What why?” He asks exasperated “Jacob you were doing so well till just then” you laugh.
Melissa looks at the both of you. “well what’s the difference?” You wink at her “I’ll tell you everything you need to know on the way to Nevermore.”
Barbara looks up confused. “What do you mean?” “I’m going to be her date for the weekend.” Melissa replies.
Ava who up until now was ignoring the conversation. “What why does she get to go? You need to show up and show out! I should be your date!” Melissa looks over at her quickly.
You place your hand on hers softly. “Oh no I’m good thanks for the offer though Ava! But Mel is my Lady for the weekend” you wink at her are your eye’s playing with you or is that a blush.
“Well if you need anything let us know! We would love to help out!” Janine looks giddy as always.
“I for one and interested in the school.” Gregory speaks up from behind you. You didn’t even notice him walk in. “ what does it take to work in an Outcast school?”
“Too much it takes too much” your roll your eyes squeezing Melissa’s hand before letting go and standing up. “Welp I need to go to my classroom and get ready for today. Have a good day princess” you wink at Melissa before walking out.
——
The bell rings indicating the end of the day and you release your stampede of 3rd graders. “Have a good rest of your days see y’all tomorrow” you wave to them.
You are gathering your belongings together when your head her. “Hey hot stuff, we missed you at lunch today.”
She has her arms crossed leaning against your door frame her purse slings across her shoulder and her feet crossed at the ankle.
It shouldn’t be so arousing but with her your mouth goes dry. “I didn’t know I’d be missed”
She pushes off the door shaking her head at you “let’s go out” you snap your head up to look at her “what?”
“Well we are gonna have to get our story straight.” Oh right that of course that’s what she meant.
“Oh yeah sounds great! We can go to my place and I can make something.” She nods at you “okay I will meet you there” she gives you the smile that you love so much.
You both walk out together she hooks her arm with yours. Stay cool, stay cool this is normal, friends do this.
“See you soon princess” she chuckles ducking her head. “Not that I’m complaining but when did that start?” She stops looking up at you.
“Oh! Um well i figured if you are going to pretend to be my girlfriend I might figure some stuff to call you right?” You look at her trying to gauge her reaction. “I can stop if if bothers you.”
“NO! Oh I’m I mean it doesn’t bother me. I like it actually” she smiles at you. “Okay well then I’ll see you here in a bit princess” you watch her climb into her car before getting into your own to head to the house.
——
You pull into your driveway her pulling in behind you. Okay you are just figuring out the details and dinner it. That’s not that bad just chill.
When you walk in you take her coat from her hanging it next to yours. You walk to the kitchen her fallowing behind you.
“So what are you in the mood for?” You ask opening the fridge. “Well what do you have?” She sets her hands on your hips moving you over so she could look. Your heart rate picks up.
“You have all the ingredients for a quick spaghetti.” She looks up at you “what do you think? Can I cook for you?”
You are surprised you haven’t shared your kitchen with anyone since Larissa. “You want to cook for me?”
“If you will let me.” You nod your head smiling. “okay but only if I can help” she nods grabbing the ingredients from the fridge. You follow her lead.
You have never cooked so seamlessly with someone. Not even Larissa after a few years could do that. Even better Mel didn’t bat an eye when you threw salt over your shoulder after salting the water.
You explain to her the importance of why you stir the food a certain way and she just went with it. Oh this woman.
You both sit down and bless the meal. After the first bite you let out a moan of contentment. This was the best spaghetti you ever had. “Oh Mel If all of your food is this good I’m just gonna have to marry you.” You keep eating blushing hard you don’t even notice how your words affected her.
“So” she clears her throat. “whats our story?” You set down your fork and think for a minute.
“Why don’t we stick to the truth?” You look at her for confirmation. “The truth?”
“Yeah I started at Abbot and you hated me. But after awhile you warmed up to me and then fell head over heels for me” you grin at her cheeky. She rolls her eyes chuckling.
“Okay we can go with that. Who made the first move?” she asks. “I did of course!” You look at her still smiling. “Of course” she giggles.
“Were you touchy feely with your ex?” “Larissa? Oh no not really well unless Mort- you know what. No we weren’t she didn’t like it.” She ponders “do you want to be with me? Affectionate that’s is?”
You think about it for a bit. Could you handle that with her? It would break your heart when you get back because it would all go back to normal. But with her…”would you be comfortable with that?”
She grabs your hand “with you yes” she smiles at you. You nod “then yes please” she nods back in return.
“Okay then I guess we got everything figured out” you both turn back to your meal talking about school and such.
——
“Thank you for dinner” you are helping her with her jacket. “Thank you for making it” you chuckle as she turns to look at you. You are suddenly very aware of how close the both of you are. You gulp your eyes glance to her lips then back to her eyes.
She is searching your face stepping closer to you. You gently cup her by the nape of the neck.
What are you doing this can’t be happening can it? The way she is looking at you makes you feel like jelly. She is leaning in to you stopping short giving you time to stop.
You can’t help it you crash your lips together it’s soft she is soft everything you imagined it would be. She is flooding your senses and it’s overwhelming in the best way possible.
When you pull away your are both blushing hard. “That’s not how I imagined tonight to end” she giggled her head landing on your chest. “Are you complaining?” “No never!”
She takes a step back grinning at you “I will see you at work tomorrow hun” she pecks you once more before walking out the door. “Goodnight princess! Let me know when you make it home!”
She gives you a thumbs up and backs out leaving you alone to figure out what just happened.
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Favorite MK hc's? Like, just silly little things you think they'd do ☺️
Hmmm 🧐
I feel like Jake would be the type to talk out loud to his cat/pet, like either like a baby or a full out conversation as if his companion is actually replying. He’d also ask questions and respond, “yeah you think so?” Stuff like that. I’m imagining him with Viejita loll and he’s such a cute cat dad. Maybe takes pics of her and has an Instagram just for cat pics, some of them aren’t even that great but they make him smile.
Feel like Steven makes those ADHD noises, where if there’s a pause or something when he’s waiting or a lull in this thoughts he starts humming to himself random notes lol not even to mimic a song just noise
Marc likes his coffee sweeter than anyone would think. Goes to Starbucks/equivalent and orders himself an iced white mocha or a pink drink and finishes it faster than usual, half of it already done on the first sip. One of the things he indulges himself with no second thoughts, and lets himself enjoy. When he makes coffee at home he puts either some syrup Steven bought for him or some whip cream on it to sweeten. My sweet baby😭
Hope you like these hehe 💞💞
#inbox 💌#hannah tag#moonknight headcanons#marc spector headcanon#steven grant headcanon#jake lockley headcanon#moon boys headcanon
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Bend Til We Break
Chapter 2
Chapter 1
“Y/n?”
I’m staring back at the last person I want to see. He left me, he left without saying goodbye, without keeping in touch, without having the decency to break up with me, and now he is standing in front of me calling my name.
I can’t help but stare at his matured face. He his hair out so it was a bit longer, and can grow even facial hair. I begin to mesmerize what use to be mine look so different. Just looking at him brings back many memories that I can’t think about right now, no, not in front of him, not before work.
“Excuse me” I say, pushing past him making my way to my car. As I approach my car I hear footsteps hitting the pavement fast behind me.
“Y/n, wait” I hear Quinn yell out behind me, “please”. I am now standing beside my car door when I decide to turn and face him.
“What?”
“Hear me out” he says making me look at him in disbelief, “I messed up, I’m sorr-”
“No Quinn. I don’t want to hear it. If we didn’t bump into each other, you would have never of told me this. So I’m not going to let you finish”
“Y/n, I just wanted to apologize and explain myself”
“It’s too late. I’ve been waiting for that for 4 years, but I don’t care anymore” I say opening my door and shutting it behind me. I start my car and drive away leaving Quinn on the side of the busy downtown Vancouver street.
When I get to the office and get all settled in, I get an Ig message from Quinn. I roll my eyes before opening it.
_quinnhughes: Can we please talk?
I ignore the message and put my phone away. I continue to do my work until lunch time. I pull my phone out as I make my way to the ground floor to go for a walk outside like I usually do. As I walk around I debate replying to Quinn’s message. A part of me really wants to know why he left the way he did, but part of me just wants to move on.
I make my way back to my building when I see him, standing outside the my building hands in his coat pocket. I make my way closer to the doors but instead of avoiding him, I approached him.
“Are you stalking me now?” I say sarcastically
“No- I uh- I saw the parking pass on your car earlier and recognized the lot” he explained
“So you thought you scope out the area?” I say rolling my eyes turning towards the door
“Y/n please” he says following me. This is a different Quinn than I’ve ever seen before.
“What Quinn, I have to work”
“What is your number?” I roll my eyes
“The same one you’ve always had” I say before walking away.
I didn’t hear from Quinn again until 9pm when I got a text from a random number.
(###) ###-####: Hi, it’s Quinn
(###) ###-####: Was hoping we could sit down and get a coffee or something
Y/n: Fine, tomorrow at 10am
(###) ###-####: I’ll pick you up
I hum and haw about giving him my address before giving in and texting him my address before going to bed.
In the morning I get ready and my phone buzzes at 9:52. I turn my phone around to see a text from Quinn saying he is here so I make my way down stairs. When I get outside I see Quinn leaning against the side of his jeep and opening the door for me once he sees me.
“Thanks” I say hopping in the car.
He goes around and gets in on the drivers side before driving away. He drives to one of the outskirt cities starbucks and we go in together. He tells me to sit and that he remembers my order if it is still the same, I nod and pick a place to sit.
He comes back and sits at the closest chair beside me, handing me my cup then taking a sip of his. “How have you been?” he says
“Better now”
“Look, I didn’t know what to do. Once I was here I knew it wouldn’t have worked out. The distance was just too much, saying and doing are just two different things”
“So when you told me you loved me it was a lie?”
“No” he says reaching for my hand but I pull it away, “I still love you, and I always will”
“You left me” I said in a hurt tone
“I had to”
“Quinn” I say looking down at my coffee cup, “You didn’t even break up with me, you just ghosted me”
“I didn’t want to end it” Quinn starts, “I’m sorry”
“You should have”
“Can we atleast be friends?” he asks and let out a deep breath, “please”
“Fine, okay”
We continued talking and catching up until it felt comfortable again. We talk about funny memories and how our family is doing. He told me his parents are coming to Vancouver soon and they would love to see me. I nodded and said I’d love to see them too. After about two hours of catching up Quinn’s phone buzzed and he checked it quickly before saying it's his GM and he needs to go to the arena. He dropped me off on his way in and told me he’d text me.
As the days go by Quinn and I become closer and closer to soon feeling like the 4 years feel shorter than they were.
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because i’m That Person, can i ask a silly little question about preferred coffee orders for any oc or grouping of your ocs? do they have preferred coffee (or tea!) orders? do they have opinions about *other* peoples’ orders? — @shoshiwrites ☕️
i'm not a coffee guy by any means but this is a fun character exercise so here are the coffee orders for everyone in the mattie/joe poet laureate/secret service AU because i've been thinking a lot about them recently
poet laureate mattie james: sugar. so so much sugar. she says it's just enough to get rid of the bitterness of black coffee but joe is pretty sure that the amount she adds is actually illegal (he still gets eight sugar packets when he orders for them both). she likes a coffee in the morning and any time she's in the recording studio
special agent joe toye: black and hot, even well into summer. it's all the army had and it's what he got used to. he can't stand all the extra shit people try to put in. a medium black coffee is good for him. "oh look at mr. inflexible set in his ways" says mattie. so he takes a sip of hers and it is as disgusting as he thought it'd be but he tried it nonetheless because who can say no to that face and those big brown eyes.
special agent johnny martin: large, two creams, two sugars. he used to be like joe but he's in his dad era now. why deny himself a little fun? sometimes he gets an iced coffee but not that nitro cold brew shit. he ordered one once and he thought he was having a heart attack. he has perfectly balanced his caffeine intake and he's not going fuck with it.
special agent bill guarnere: a dash of cream and a little sugar and hot. what is this numbers shit? a good coffee is cheap and they make it how he likes it without gettin' too fancy. there's one coffee shop he goes to in all of d.c. and god forbid he has to order from dunkin or starbucks when they're on the road. there's a lot of "back in my day" (aren't you like 28) to the baristas and johnny apologizes and shuffles him out of the store.
special agent bull randleman: iced green tea in the warm months, chai in the cold, but never matcha. matcha just tastes like dirt to him. a little caffeine but not too much. he's not his best when he's jittery and he crashes if he has too much at once. he gets a lavender green tea once and bill makes fun of him but bill tries it (and likes it) says "huh. not bad" so occasionally lavender green tea gets thrown in the mix.
supervisory special agent lewis nixon: hot, black, and in a mug from the coffee maker in the secret service administration offices. he can use something a little more mobile and he knows it, but he likes how it makes him stay in one place for a while and that it makes other people stay too. (like ms. james' witty and quite demanding harvard publicist) i mean it's good to make dick slow every once and a while.
group supervisor dick winters: sorry but you cannot convince me that 21st century dick winters is not a caffeine addict. he doesn't get into the energy drinks but he definitely always has a coffee on him and he doesn't know if caffeine has no effect on him or if he has it so much that it's now his baseline of function.
publicist/manager georgie webster: it's a ridiculous, sweet as fuck, more-syrups-than-coffee, takes-two-tickets-to-print ass order and she always manages to make the secret service foot the bill, which pisses nix off more than anything because he's the one reconciling the expense reports. "nine dollars for a grande" he mumbles and georgie bats her eyes like she can't possibly know what he's talking about.
record producer george luz: he may or may not be abusing the label's partnership with rockstar energy but he is always wide awake and on top of his shit so who's to say
#mail call#Anonymous#this is such a good question#i need a tag for this AU#mattie james#georgina webster#my writing#meet 'em in the skies#shoshi tag#tidbit tag#wordsmith au
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