#this is somehow the opposite of um | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

d-z20 · 27 days ago

Text

Extra Credit (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: You’re Billy’s favourite teacher, but it seems his mom, Agatha Harkness, has taken quite the liking to you too. What starts as innocent parent-teacher meeting quickly spirals into teasing glances, stolen moments, and Agatha making it very clear she always gets what she wants.

-OR-

She fucks you on her kitchen island and you've got to keep quiet while she takes a call

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, Agatha being a MILF again, reader's got a praise kink, oral (R recv), fingering (R recv), orgasm denial if you close your eyes, could be more but idk

Words: 4.4k

A/N: Agatha All Along Week Day 1: Single Mom/Teacher AU

AO3 | Masterlist

The clatter of a pen dropping onto your desk jolts you back to the present. You blink, realising you’ve been staring at the clock for longer than you care to admit. Another parent-teacher conference night, another gruelling line-up of exhausted faces and polite nods. You adjust the stack of papers in front of you, trying to muster some energy for the last meeting on your schedule. Billy Maximoff. His name is scribbled neatly on the appointment sheet, but it’s the blank column under “Parent/Guardian Name” that catches your attention.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of boots hitting the tiled floor in the hallway. You glance up just as a woman steps into the room, her presence commanding immediate attention. She has an easy confidence about her—a casual yet put-together look that suggests she doesn’t overthink her appearance but still manages to look effortlessly striking. Her long brown hair falls in soft, slightly wild waves around her shoulders. She’s wearing a striped blazer over a slinky olive-green blouse, paired with a camel-coloured suede skirt that hugs her figure in all the right ways. Her rugged, well-loved boots and the faint smudge of dirt near the hem of her skirt add a touch of groundedness to her otherwise polished vibe.

She leans casually against the doorframe, her hand brushing through her hair as she surveys the room with a faint smile. Her striking features—sharp cheekbones and piercing blue eyes—are softened by the glint of curiosity in her gaze.

“Good evening,” she says, her voice smooth and low, with the faintest trace of amusement. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything too important.”

You scramble to respond, fumbling with the pen you just retrieved. “Not at all, Ms.—?”

“Harkness,” she supplies, her lips curving into a faint smirk. “Agatha Harkness. Billy’s guardian.”

The name suits her. You nod, gesturing for her to take a seat, but instead of sitting, she crosses the room leisurely, her boots making soft, deliberate sounds against the tile. She pauses to examine the bulletin board, running her fingers lightly over a thumbtacked notice about an upcoming bake sale.

“Charming,” she remarks dryly before finally settling into the chair opposite you. Her gaze flicks to the papers on your desk, then back to your face, and suddenly the air feels heavy. You clear your throat, diving into the usual spiel about Billy’s performance.

But Agatha isn’t interested in small talk. She listens with one eyebrow arched, occasionally interrupting with a cutting observation that’s somehow both insulting and charming. When you nervously adjust your glasses and shuffle your papers, she tilts her head, her smirk widening.

“You seem... distracted,” she murmurs, leaning forward. Her voice drops an octave. “Do I make you nervous?”

Your cheeks heat instantly. “No, I—um—”

She chuckles, the sound low and indulgent. “Relax. I’m just teasing.” Her gaze lingers on you for a moment longer than necessary before she reclines in her chair, her smirk firmly in place. “Now, about Billy…”

—

After that first meeting, Agatha becomes a constant presence. At first, it’s subtle—a chance encounter at the grocery store, a polite wave during drop-off. But then the notes start. Brief, cryptic messages scrawled on elegant stationery, left on your desk between classes. The first one reads, “How about some extra credit? – A.”

You keep them, of course. It feels impossible to throw them away, even as you berate yourself for the ridiculous flutter in your chest every time you see her looping signature.

At a school fundraiser, she catches you off guard again. The room is crowded, the noise a blend of clinking glasses and polite chatter. You’re busy sorting auction sheets when you feel her presence behind you. Her voice is warm against your ear.

“Lovely event,” she purrs. "Though I think we both know it could use... a bit more spice.”

You turn, startled, and find her standing impossibly close. Her honey-brown waves frame her face, and her eyes glint with amusement as she surveys your reaction. “You’ve done well, though,” she adds, her tone softening. “Admirably, even.”

Before you can respond, she’s gone, blending seamlessly back into the crowd. Your heart races as you realise how much you want her to stay.

—

It happens after school one Friday afternoon. You’re tidying up your classroom; the muffled sound of students filtering out of the building serves as a backdrop to your thoughts. You’re so focused on organising the papers in front of you that you don’t notice the soft creak of the door opening.

When you finally look up, Agatha is leaning against the doorframe, her hair catching the golden glow of the late afternoon sun. She’s still in her usual style—casual yet disarmingly striking. Today, her blazer is swapped for a simple, fitted cardigan over a loose blouse that dips just enough to draw attention, paired with high-waisted trousers that hug her hips. Her boots are the same ones you’ve seen her in before, scuffed and charmingly imperfect.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” she says lightly, though the look in her eyes suggests otherwise.

“Not at all,” you stammer, clutching the stack of papers a little too tightly.

She steps into the room, closing the door behind her with a deliberate click. “I wanted to discuss Billy’s progress,” she begins, but her tone is far too casual for this to be strictly about academics.

Her boots thud softly against the floor as she saunters towards your desk. “He’s a bright kid,” she continues, her voice smooth and measured. “Though, I must say, I think you’ve had quite the influence on him. He’s been glowing about his ‘amazing teacher’ for weeks.”

Her compliment catches you off guard, and before you can thank her, her eyes drop slightly as though assessing you.

“I can see why,” she adds, her voice dropping to a low, velvety purr. “I imagine the hot teacher fantasy must be quite the hit around here.”

Your face flushes instantly. “Excuse me?” You manage, but the words come out far more flustered than indignant. Heat blooms in your cheeks, betraying you completely.

Agatha laughs—a low, indulgent sound—and steps closer, her presence both suffocating and electric. She watches you squirm with an almost predatory amusement. “Relax,” she murmurs, tilting her head. “It’s a compliment. You wear it well.”

“You’re fun to watch, you know,” she continues, her lips curling into a smirk. “Like a rabbit caught in a trap.”

Your breath catches. Her words feel like a challenge, a test of your composure. Mustering your courage, you blurt, “Why do you keep teasing me?”

Her smirk fades, replaced by something darker. She steps closer until you can feel the heat radiating from her body.

“And what if I wasn’t just teasing?” She whispers, her voice low and intimate. She reaches out, her fingers brushing against your wrist in a touch so light it sends shivers up your spine.

Before you can respond, she closes the distance, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that is slow and deliberate yet utterly consuming. Her hands slide up to cup your face, tilting your head to deepen the kiss as she presses you back against your desk.

The room spins, your papers scattering to the floor, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Agatha’s kiss becomes more demanding, her hands sliding to your hips and pulling you closer. Her body presses against yours, a perfect combination of softness and strength.

Without breaking contact, she lifts you onto the desk, her hands firm on your thighs as she pushes between them. The new angle allows her to deepen the kiss further, her teeth grazing your bottom lip just enough to make you gasp.

Her smirk curves against your mouth at the sound, as though she’s cataloguing every reaction for later. Her hands slide boldly up your thighs, fingers pressing into the fabric just enough to make you squirm. She’s deliberate, taking her time as her lips trail to your jawline, then down to the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“Sensitive here, aren’t you?” She murmurs, her voice low and teasing, as she presses a lingering kiss that sends a tremor through you.

You can only manage a shaky exhale, your hands gripping the edge of the desk as though it might ground you. Agatha notices and hums with amusement. She kisses her way back to your lips, this time taking control with an intensity that makes your head spin again.

Her hands roam further, sliding beneath your shirt, her palms burning a path along your skin as she pushes it up inch by inch. Your breath hitches as cool air meets flushed skin, only for the sensation to be overtaken by Agatha’s touch as she explores, slow and deliberate.

She pulls back just enough to take you in, her darkened gaze locking onto yours. Her thumb brushes over the skin of your waist in a slow, deliberate circle. “Look at you,” she murmurs softly. “So pliant already.”

You shudder visibly, her words as much of a caress as her touch. Before you can gather a coherent thought, her mouth is on yours again, her kiss deep and consuming. One hand slips up to cradle the back of your neck, tilting your head just the way she wants, while the other grips your thigh to pull you closer against her.

It’s all too much and not enough at the same time—your heart racing, your body responding to her every move as though it’s instinct. Agatha pulls back again, just enough to let you catch your breath, her lips brushing against your jaw as she chuckles softly.

“Billy’s at his boyfriend’s this evening,” she whispers, her voice low and deliberate, laced with wicked promise. “I think we should continue this at my place. Don’t you?”

Her words hang in the air for a moment, the weight of them making your pulse quicken. When you manage to nod, she grins—slow, sharp, and triumphant.

“Good,” she says, pressing one last kiss to your lips. “Come on, then. I’m not done with you yet.”

—

By the time you arrive at her home, the tension between you has reached a fever pitch. Her house is a perfect reflection of her: elegant but unpretentious, with bookshelves stacked haphazardly and a hint of sandalwood in the air.

Agatha shrugs off her cardigan, draping it over the back of a chair before turning to you with a gaze that pins you in place. “Relax,” she murmurs, a smirk playing on her lips as she steps closer. “I don’t bite… much.”

She reaches out, her hands settling on your hips as she guides you backward, your lower back hitting the edge of the kitchen island. Her touch is confident yet tender, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt as she pulls you closer. She lifts you effortlessly onto the cool surface, and your legs instinctively wrap around her waist.

She leans in for another kiss, this one slower, more exploratory, as if she’s savouring every second. The heat between you both intensifies, your breaths mingling as her hands roam over your body, claiming you in a way that leaves you breathless.

“You’re so responsive,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice thick with satisfaction. “I like that.”

Her hands trail up your sides, her nails scraping lightly against your skin, sending sparks of sensation coursing through you. When she pulls back, her hair is slightly tousled, and her eyes are dark with intent.

“Now,” she whispers, her voice dipping into a commanding tone that makes your stomach flip, “let’s get one thing straight.” She tilts your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze. “I’m in charge tonight. Understood?”

You nod, too breathless to speak, and her lips curve into a wicked smile.

“Use your words for me, sweetheart,” she purrs.

Your hesitation earns you a raised eyebrow, her smirk widening in amusement. “Oh, don’t be shy,” she coaxes, her tone softening into something almost soothing. Her fingers trail up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your flushed skin. “Say it.”

“I understand,” you finally manage, making her control snap. Her hands tighten on your hips as she pulls you closer, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that is anything but gentle, her movements firm but unhurried, her touch alternating between rough and tender in a way that leaves you utterly breathless.

Her hands trail up your sides, tugging your shirt over your head before letting it fall to the floor. The air feels cool against your flushed skin, but her touch quickly distracts you as her lips trail down your jawline to your neck.

When you hesitantly reach for the buttons on her blouse, she lets you help, watching you with sharp amusement as your fingers fumble. “Careful,” she teases, her voice low and wicked. “Don’t tear it.”

Once her blouse falls open, you can’t stop yourself from staring. The soft, teasing dip of her lace bra is enough to make your mouth run dry, and Agatha doesn’t miss it. She arches an eyebrow, her smirk turning fond as she cups your face, fingers brushing along your jawline before she pulls you into another searing kiss.

The kiss is all-consuming, stealing the breath from your lungs as her body presses against yours. Her movements are intoxicatingly slow, as though she’s savouring every sound you make. When she pulls back just enough, her lips curve against your skin in satisfaction.

“You’re adorable when you’re overwhelmed,” she murmurs, her voice rich and indulgent, like honey warmed over fire.

Her hands, still impossibly steady, slide down your torso, pausing only to stroke the skin she’s uncovered. Her touch is deliberate, methodical—she wants you to feel everything. Agatha presses her lips to the hollow of your throat, leaving a trail of kisses that make you squirm under her control.

“Beautiful,” she murmurs, almost to herself, before her mouth finds yours again.

The kiss is slower this time—deeper, almost reverent—like she’s intent on memorising the way you taste. Her hands move with purpose, one gripping your hip while the other trails up your spine, leaving sparks in its wake. When you let out a soft, involuntary sound, Agatha groans softly into your mouth, her control threatening to slip.

Your hands wander up to push her blouse the rest of the way off her shoulders. Agatha hums in approval, shrugging it off and letting it fall to the floor.

She kisses you until you’re dizzy, her hands continuing their exploration of every inch of you. She’s relentless but not hurried, building the tension inch by inch until you’re left breathless beneath her. At some point, her fingers slide down to unfasten the button of your jeans, but she pauses, her lips hovering over yours.

“Are you still with me, darling?” She murmurs, her voice soft, grounding you just enough to remember to breathe.

You nod, your cheeks flush, and your heart races. “Yes,” you whisper, and her smirk softens into something impossibly fond.

“Good,” she says, pressing a kiss to your mouth. “That’s my good girl.”

Your body responds to her praise before your mind even catches up, a soft whimper escaping your lips. Agatha’s grin widens, dark and satisfied, as she watches your reaction. “Oh, I am going to have fun with you,” she murmurs, her voice dipping into something deeper, more possessive.

She steps back slightly, her gaze flicking over you as she considers her next move. There’s a moment of deliberation as her fingers trace lightly over your thighs, her eyes narrowing in thought.

“Let’s see,” she muses aloud, her voice low and steady. “How to get these off...”

You remain still, heart racing, the heat between your legs palpable as her fingers trail up your body. Her eyes lock onto yours for a brief second, and then she decides. With a swift motion, she places her hands on your shoulders, pushing you back gently so that your back is now flat against the cool surface of the kitchen island. You gasp, your breath hitching at the sudden change in position, but you don’t protest.

Agatha steps between your legs, her fingers moving slowly up your body, and she starts to tug at the waistband of your jeans and underwear. Her hands are skilled and deliberate as she traces the outline of your hips and thighs, pulling at the fabric with a teasing slowness that leaves you aching for more.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Agatha lowers herself, pressing a series of soft, heated kisses down your torso. Each kiss is carefully placed, her lips lingering just a little longer than necessary, as if she’s savouring every inch of your skin. You can feel the heat of her breath against your body, sending shivers through you as her hands trail along your sides, lightly grazing your skin.

Her lips travel lower, brushing over your hips, before she begins to kiss up your thighs, her touch slow and teasing. Her hands are still steady on your skin, caressing the soft curve of your body as her lips draw closer to where you need her most. The anticipation builds with each lingering kiss that inches closer to where you want her most.

You let out a breath, and your body instinctively shifts, eager for the contact you’ve been waiting for. But Agatha is in control, her smirk darkening as she watches your reactions, enjoying the way your body responds to her slow pace.

Her lips hover just inches from where you crave her touch, teasing you as she takes her time. The heat between your legs is almost unbearable now; your body is restless and aching, but Agatha remains patient. She lifts her head briefly, eyes locking onto yours with a glint of satisfaction.

"You’re so eager," she whispers, her voice rich with amusement, before returning her attention to your thighs. Her hands slide further up, brushing against your skin as she kisses the sensitive area just above your inner thighs, sending waves of anticipation coursing through your body. The slight pressure of her lips on your skin makes your breath hitch, your fingers tightening around the edge of the counter beneath you. You can barely hold back a moan as the moment stretches longer than you'd imagined possible, but you know—she knows—that you won’t be able to last very long.

Agatha’s mouth moves even closer now, teasing your skin with the lightest touches before finally, slowly, moving to your sensitive clit. A gasp escapes your lips as her mouth finally connects, and you can’t help the desperate sound that falls from you. Her lips work with slow, purposeful pressure, her tongue tracing the lines of your body in expert strokes that make your hips involuntarily push towards her.

Her hands are firm on your waist, holding you steady as she brings you closer to the edge, her eyes never leaving yours, watching every reaction. "That's it," she murmurs, her voice low and approving. "So responsive... so perfect."

Every flick of her tongue sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you tremble beneath her. The anticipation that had been building for so long finally reaches a breaking point, your body trembling with need as she continues her relentless pace. You’re caught between wanting to beg her for more and wanting to savour every moment of this slow, delicious torture.

But Agatha, always in control, draws back just before you can lose yourself completely. She lingers above you, her breath heavy against your skin, and her smirk widens. “Not yet,” she whispers, the words making your chest ache with desire. "We’re just getting started."

The sudden buzz of her phone on the counter makes Agatha pause, her lips just inches away. She huffs softly, almost annoyed, before pulling back. You whimper involuntarily, only for her sharp gaze to snap to yours.

Without saying a word, she picks up her phone and swipes to answer, pressing it to her ear. “Hi Billy,” she says smoothly, her voice a picture of calm.

Her free hand drags lazily over her mouth, wiping away your arousal, before her fingers immediately return to you. She trails them up your thighs, her touch featherlight but devastating, making your hips buck of their own accord, a soft moan escaping before you can stop it.

Her gaze darkens instantly, and her eyes narrow in a silent warning. The message is crystal clear—keep quiet, or I’ll stop. The slow, deliberate circles her fingertips trace up your thigh make it nearly impossible to obey, but the threat in her glare keeps you still.

“Everything okay, sweetie?” She asks Billy, the tenderness in her voice at odds with what’s happening between you two. She waits for his reply, her lips curling into an almost amused expression. She drags her fingers through your folds, deliberately stopping to hover over your entrance, sending shivers up your spine.

Agatha’s expression doesn’t falter as she pushes two fingers inside you, pressing her thumb against your clit with devastating precision, the movement so slow and calculated that it feels like torture. Her smirk widens when she feels you clench around her fingers, but her attention shifts back to talk with Billy, utterly composed as she continues the conversation.

“Of course, sweetie,” she says smoothly, her tone saccharine and calm, as though she isn’t currently unravelling you one touch at a time. “Eddie’s for the night? That’s fine, just don’t forget to let his parents know, alright?”

She drags her fingers out slowly before thrusting them back in harshly, knowing it’ll leave you gasping. You grip the counter beneath you, trying to ground yourself, but your body betrays you—hips jutting towards her, a loud whimper slipping out.

Agatha pins the phone to her ear with her shoulder, bringing her hand to press firmly against your lower stomach, pinning you in place with a deliberate calm. She pauses, her fingers stilling for just a moment as her dark, warning eyes flick up to meet yours. The silent message is clear: be good.

You nod frantically, biting down on your lower lip to stifle any more sounds. Pleased with your response, she smiles softly and resumes, her fingers curling in a way that makes you dizzy.

“Mhm,” she hums distractedly into the phone as Billy continues to chatter, utterly oblivious to what’s happening on the other end. “Did you need anything else, love? I was just in the middle of something.”

The double meaning in her words doesn’t escape you, but you can barely process it as her movements quicken, a cruel flick of her wrist turning the slow tease into something far more demanding. Your breathing comes in shallow bursts, your legs trembling as she drags you closer and closer to the edge with ease.

Agatha’s expression remains perfectly composed, though the corner of her mouth twitches into a smirk when she feels you start to unravel. “Alright, sweetie,” she finally says, her voice gentle yet clipped as though she’s eager to end the call. “Be good, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”

She ends the call with a soft click, tossing the phone onto the counter without a care. The moment it leaves her hand, her focus snaps back to you entirely.

“You couldn’t even follow one simple instruction,” she tuts, though her voice is far too pleased to sound scolding. Her fingers press deeper as she leans closer, her breath warm against your ear. “But I suppose I’ll forgive you. This time.”

The promise in her tone is enough to send you spiralling, a taut thread snapping deep within you as waves of overwhelming pleasure crash through your body. It starts slow—a tremor that blooms and builds, spreading through every nerve until it consumes you entirely. Your thighs quiver beneath her unrelenting touch, your chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath.

She doesn’t let up, her fingers maintaining their pace, drawing you through every moment with the precision of someone who knows exactly what they’re doing. The tension that had been winding you so tight finally unravels, your body shuddering under her relentless focus. It’s as if she’s pulling apart every layer of you, and you give yourself over to it completely.

Your head falls back, a broken cry escaping your lips—her name, raw and breathless, slipping free like a prayer you couldn’t hold back if you tried. The sound seems to fuel her further, her gaze locked onto you as though committing every detail to memory: the arch of your back, the way your fingers clutch desperately at her arms, the tremors that ripple through your form as you fight to anchor yourself to reality.

She leans closer, her breath ghosting over your skin as her movements begin to slow, guiding you gently through the dizzying aftershocks. Her free hand, firm yet gentle, settles at your hip to steady you, grounding you when you feel as though you might simply come undone entirely. The intensity of it all leaves you gasping—every nerve in your body oversensitive, your limbs weak as though she’s stolen every last bit of strength you had.

Agatha watches you with satisfaction, her smirk softening ever so slightly as she finally lets her hand still, her fingers brushing idly against your thigh. “That’s it,” she murmurs, her voice a rich, honeyed drawl that seems to soothe and ignite you all at once. “Breathe, sweetheart. You did so well for me.”

Her words seep into your skin like balm, even as you try to come back down from the overwhelming high she’s driven you to. She presses a lingering kiss to the inside of your thigh, her lips gentle against your trembling skin, before finally straightening to look at you.

The smug satisfaction in her expression is unmistakable, but beneath it, there’s something more—something almost reverent as her eyes rake over you, flushed and wrecked, exactly how she wanted you. Her thumb brushes softly along your cheek as she tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet her gaze despite the haze still clouding your mind.

“There you are,” she murmurs, brushing a hand down your thigh, her thumb lingering against your skin. “Such a mess, but so good for me.”

Her lips curve wickedly as she tilts your chin up, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw. “Now, let’s take this to the bedroom. I’m not quite done with you yet.”

-----

Parent/Teacher conference is just a game of smash or pass if you're brave enough. If ANY (billy excluded) of the coven was there I'd choose smash every time

-----

Like and reblog if you enjoyed. this is a threat 🔫

806 notes · View notes

leonkennedybreedingkink · 2 months ago

Text

ANYTIME YOU WANT (JUMP BACK TO ME ANYTIME)

husband!leon kennedy x reader

tags: established relationship. you guys are beefing ngl. masturbation (brief reference, m receiving). leon loves his wife a lot. title from eve 6 anytime.

Your therapist takes in the way you both sit on her couch over the rims of her glasses. Your legs and arms are crossed and you don’t dare look in his direction, lest he thinks he’s not in the doghouse. The first fifteen minutes of this session have been an awkward, stilted silence.

Leon’s legs are spread, his arms folded as he sneaks glances at you from the corners of his eyes. His mouth is downturned at the corners, contrasting the thin line yours is pressed into.

Not to stereotype or anything, but she can definitely see which one dragged the other to marriage therapy. She’s just surprised it’s the man wanting to fix something.

Okay. Since neither of you want to speak, she’ll go first. “Would either of you like to tell me why we’re here this week?” She asks, writing the date in the top left corner of the legal pad’s page.

11 - 18 - 17

She watches you scoff and shift where you sit, balancing your temple on two fingers. “You’re a marriage counselor, aren’t you?” You don’t even look at her as you speak, words ground out from your teeth. “Why else does a couple come to you?”

Alright, not a good start. She watches Leon reach over before he stops himself, a hand returning to his lap. Instead, he says your name softly, begging you to look over at him with those big blue eyes.

You don’t look over.

He changes tactics, head lifting. “Be nice.” He says softly, body shifting to face you as he looks over, drinking you in.

You don’t respond, staring angrily into a space over the therapist’s shoulder.

Leon sucks in a breath through his teeth as he leans back, his hand midway between you two on the ugly upholstery.

Your therapist clears her throat, eyes flicking between the two of you. “Why are you two here?”

Leon takes the lead, his eyes sliding over to you. “We’re having… problems.”

You scoff immediately. “Understatement.” You mutter under your breath, arms folding tightly again.

Leon’s mouth presses into a line as he restrains himself from giving into your baiting before he says, “I’ll lay my cards out on the table.”

You bristle, eyes flicking over at him. Your face is stonily neutral, the slight knot of your brows betraying your frustration.

Wife and husband in habit of needling one another.

“I drank. A lot.” Leon leans back, crossing an ankle over his opposite knee. “And she did a lot to try and keep our marriage afloat before I got my head out of my ass.”

Your therapist notes this on her legal pad. “How long ago was this?”

“Three-ish years.” Leon offers, lacing his fingers together. His wedding band glints in the light—yours is conspicuously absent. His eyes land on you, the second time he’s spoken directly to you. “And I’m forever grateful.”

“Mhm.” Therapist writes that husband is apologetic and open, attempting to bridge the gap. Wife is unreceptive. “And how long have you both been married?”

Shit. That’s a better question for you, you have the dates straight, somehow. Your first time, the date you two got married, the day you two met, your first daughter’s birthday, your first son’s birthday, your second daughter and son’s birthday.

He used to tease you about your calendar brain early on. You’d look a little sheepish and he’d kiss it right off you.

Leon sneaks a glance at you like a drowning man looks at a float. “Um…” He can feel his face warming up, a pretty flush spreading across his cheeks.

You shift, sighing through your nose and picking at the seam of your jeans. “Sixteen years.”

Right. Wife seems to defrost when asked how long they’ve been together—sixteen years.

“And how did you meet?” Just so she has the dates straight.

“College.” Your face heats the longer Leon stares holes into your cheek. Wife seems nostalgic of the early days of relationship. “I worked at the campus dining hall.”

A small, helpless smile spreads across Leon’s face. “I came over to the sandwich and pasta stations as much as I could.”

Husband holds affection for wife still.

You don’t look up at him and your therapist can watch the heartache bloom in his eyes before he looks away.

“What’s your perspective, Mrs. Kennedy?” The therapist asks you, crossing her legs.

You stay silent for so long that the therapist wonders whether you heard her before you say emotionlessly, “He did drink.” Your eyes fall to your fingers. “And mope, and feel bad for himself.”

“I went through a lot of things.” Leon says quietly. Your therapist opens her mouth to hush him, but you beat him to the punch.

“Nobody’s saying you didn’t.” You look up at him for the first time. “If you’d let me finish, you’d understand what I’m saying.”

Your therapist holds up her hands before this can devolve into a full-on argument. “Excuse me.” Two pairs of eyes settle on her. “Let’s not interrupt one another, please. And let’s keep the hostility to the minimum.”

“I’m not being hostile.” You retort, brows furrowing in the middle.

“You’re not exactly being gentle, either.” Leon mutters, raising a brow when you look at him with a frown on your face.

Husband and wife have habit of speaking over one another. “Please.” Your therapist says a little louder. “Mrs. Kennedy, continue.” Wife is on defense.

You take a steadying breath and let it out slowly. Wife employs self-soothing mechanisms. “I was going to say that the previous drinking isn’t the issue to me.” You uncross and recross your legs, bouncing the one on top. “The drinking, frankly, wasn’t a surprise.”

“Can you elaborate?”

Your lips part, eyes flicking over to Leon as you attempt to figure out the best way to talk without breaking his confidentiality.

Leon doesn’t look at you, head balanced on two fingers.

“I…” You take another deep breath. “It’s his job. It’s… it’s a tedious and stressful job. And he’d—“ you cut yourself off, glancing at him again.

“You can say it, it’s fine.” Leon says, sounding particularly weary.

You look particularly conflicted when he says that, mouth turning down at the corners. “He’d got the job from a big incident in ninety-eight. He wasn’t supposed to have this job.”

Wife employing vagaries to protect husband.

“Mhm.” Your therapist looks vaguely uneasy at the omission, but lets you go on.

“He hadn’t started drinking heavily until he was working for the President.” You chew on your cheek, eyes on your husband. “Then after that, he tried to go away to Colorado for a week, leaving me pregnant with three kids.”

Leon’s mouth pulls into a line. “So that’s what this is about.”

Husband and wife hold vague resentment for husband’s job.

Your therapist refrains from rolling her eyes, clearing her throat and waiting for you to go on.

“And then,” you say pointedly, eyebrows raising, “you didn’t have a vacation at all because your job called you in. That’s what I was getting at.”

“More like it found me, but close enough.” Leon replies flippantly, crossing his legs.

You squeeze your eyes shut, measuring your breaths. Your therapist is almost tempted to write that husband has a bad attitude, but holds back.

You look away, one hand moving to twiddle your wedding band out of habit before you register that your finger is empty. You pull your hand away. “He sobered up after the Colorado thing.” You say quietly.

Husband’s work takes him away from the wife and kids fairly often.

Your therapist nods, looking between you two. Wife was angry at beginning of session, now looks downcast, switching role with husband who was earlier downcast, now is irritated. “And how many children do you share with one another?”

“Four.” Leon fills in, hand twitching for his phone as if to show pictures. “Two boys, two girls.”

Four children, two boys and two girls.

“And how has this break—“ When she asks, Leon flinches and you look guilty. “in your relationship impacted your children?”

You glance at one another in tandem. Wife and husband still look for support in one another when asked questions pertaining to them as a family unit. Leon looks away first, cheeks turning red.

You sigh, reaching up and rubbing the back of your neck. “Our eldest girl started acting out in school. She’s defiant, she’s antisocial. She…”

Leon waits as you trail off, then picks up. “She’s an extrovert, like her mom. Which is why it raised alarm bells when her teachers told us that she’d been angry about having to do group work because she wanted to be left alone. She had to be taken home one day because she got in a physical fight with some kids who just wanted to play with her.”

“And your other children?” Her eyes flick between the two of you.

“Our youngest two aren’t in school yet.” You inform her, shifting a little and fiddling with your nails. “Our eldest boy—he’s six—had begun isolating himself from everyone. He wouldn’t even sit at his desk, he just wanted to sit in the library area and do his work—which is completely fine and I don’t see why the teacher threw a fit about it, frankly—but he’d also refused to play with other children. He would just watch other kids at recess—and he’s a very energetic kid.”

Your therapist nods slowly. “I see.”

Leon’s mouth pulls into a small smile at all the information you throw at the therapist. That’s his girl, always motormouthing and talking about anything and everything. Though, you could start an argument with your echo, so maybe there’s a drawback to your ability to talk about anything.

Parental relationship affecting children in household.

“Our youngest two don’t really understand why mommy and daddy are fighting.” Leon muses, watching you play with your fingers. He has half a mind to reach over and hold your hand so you stop fidgeting, but refrains.

“How old are your children?”

“Eight, six, four, and two.” You sneakily reference a tattoo on your forearm of the kid’s birthdates with their initials—he knew you were cheating when it came to remembering their birthdates.

Your therapist glances at her watch, jotting down a few more notes before she closes the legal pad, marking it as Mr. & Mrs. Kennedy. “I’m afraid that’s all the time we have this week. If you both are willing to come back, my receptionist out front will schedule you for another session next week.”

Leon watches his cum swirl down the drain miserably, leaning his forehead against the shower tile. What a waste.

That session last week could’ve gone worse, admittedly. It could’ve had you two throwing shit at one another and both of you getting arrested.

The silence during the drive home was excruciating. In the early days, you could fill up the whole fucking car just talking about anything: your coursework, which kid in your class you think is autistic, this new show you watched, anything.

Leon’s a quiet guy, he doesn’t have the capacity to talk about nothing and everything for an hour and you’re his favorite little chatterbox in the world.

He turns off the faucet and shakes his hair out like a dog, raking the curtain aside and grabbing his towel, mopping his face and hair before he dries off his body.

He wraps the towel around himself and steps out of the shower, slicking his hair back and wiping a streak in the foggy mirror so he can somewhat see where he needs to shave.

For good measure, he opens the window and leans forward to the mirror, inspecting his face.

You knock on the door thrice. “Can I come in?”

He turns around, one hand on the knot holding his towel up and the other unlocking the door and pulling it open. You step inside without so much as a glance at him, pausing when you see the streak on the mirror. “I hate when you do that.” you mutter, pulling open the cabinet and rooting around for some disinfectant.

“You hate when I do anything.” Leon mutters back, retrieving the trimmer from the cabinet and being careful not to whack you in the head with it. He jams the plug in the wall, undoing his towel both to dab his cheeks and jaw dry with a corner of it, but also to see if he can get a reaction from you.

You give none, coming back with some rubbing alcohol and cotton pads from the cabinet. Somebody must’ve scraped their knee. You bonk the back of your head on the way out. “Motherfucker!”

Leon puts down the trimmer with a stifled laugh, leaning down and stroking the back of your head gently. “Jesus. You okay?”

You swat at his covered thigh, sitting down on the tile. “It’s not funny.”

“Did you hear me laugh?” Maybe you did. His bad, he should’ve been quieter. He strokes the back of your head one last time before pulling his hand away.

“No, but I know you want to.” You grouse, getting up from the floor and picking up the rubbing alcohol and the cotton pads. Safe, just like a guy stealing a base at the last second.

You walk away without anything further and Leon feels stupidly self-conscious as he watches your ass. Is it the hair? No, you said you liked the body hair. Is it the body? Is he out of shape? Well, he’s not far outside the realm of dad bod. Besides, you told him a couple years ago that you liked seeing the give to his tummy, means he’s eating well.

He shakes his head, leaning into the mirror and picking up the trimmer as he buzzes his stubble down a little more. Your four year old runs into the bathroom with a smile and he pauses, face half-shaven to give some love to one of his three girls, plopping her on the counter as she talks his ear off and he continues shaving.

After a while, he helps her down so she can go run around with her siblings and so he can get changed, hanging his towel up when she’s gone and changing into a pair of boxers. He comes into his bedroom and heads over to his dresser, pulling out a shirt and some sweatpants.

He comes downstairs fully dressed to utter chaos.

Your kids are too busy running around the living room and body slamming one another to listen to you. You stand there frustratedly as you try to configure a game plan, one temple aching. You don’t like raising your voice at them, your voice goes too high and at a certain point, kids tune it out.

“Hey!” Leon, on the other hand, has no qualms about raising his voice. He doesn’t have to do much, he has a lot of diaphragm support.

The kids pause, immediately looking guilty.

Wordlessly, he points out to the back door and they scramble away, shouting and ordering each other around and back to playing with one another.

Leon goes over and shuts the door with a sigh. “They get that energy from you, you know.” He muses, heading over to the kitchen to get himself a snack.

“I know.” You sit down on your humongous couch, rubbing a temple. In the corner is your pillow, your blanket hung over the back of the couch. Leon’s heart dully aches when he sees that setup, he’s not sure it ever won’t. God, he misses cuddling you and his babies.

Your therapist holds up a hand in the last ten minutes of your session after having found a good place to cut you off. “So.” She says after letting out a quiet sigh, looking over her notes.

11 - 25 - 17

Making some headway in conversations about the other’s intentions. Husband and wife very similar: hardheaded, hate to lose, want their voices to be heard. Neither want their children to be in a broken home.

Wife sleeps on couch, lacks wedding ring for second session in a row. Husband longing for connection with her but wants her to give the signal that she’s ready.

She looks up. “I’m going to give you both some homework.” She watches your eyebrow raise and Leon smirk. “First, no matter what either of you is doing, when you first see each other for the day, I want you to hug for at least twenty seconds.”

You frown, Leon’s expression lightening. Amateur advice, or so you think.

“Second, I want you both to start keeping journals of your fights.”

Nevermind.

“Journals of our fights?” You repeat, crossing your legs at the ankle.

“I’m not finished.” The therapist reprimands gently, watching you frown. Wife has issues with authority. “These journals should take place over a week’s time. I want you to write down what the fight was about, what was said, how you both reacted. At the end of every week—Sunday, we’ll say—you’ll exchange the journals and read from the other’s point of view.”

Damn, that’s actually really good.

“Third,” The therapist pins you in place with a look. “I want you to wear your wedding band again.“

She watches the embarrassment cross your face, eyes cutting over to Leon when he looks too smug. “Don’t look so smug, Mr. Kennedy. I want you to recite five things you like about her—“

“That’s easy.” Leon says, meaning every word.

She gives him a look. “When you’re in an argument. Mentally, not out loud. Speaking of, you both need a code word for when the argument is getting to be too much and you need to walk away from it.”

She stands up, putting the legal pad in the folder in the Kennedy file. “I’ll see you both next week.”

After the third session, you move right back into the bedroom, after waking up to Leon laying on top of you on the couch.

Leon’s brushing his teeth as you change into pajamas, leaning over and spitting into the sink before he brushes his tongue. He rinses the bristles and puts the brush back in the holder, coming out and helping you ready the bed before your six year old son comes in, saying his tummy’s upset.

“I’ve got it.” Leon comes over and presses a hand to his son’s forehead. Warm. Five out of the six of the Kennedys tend to run warm, which isn’t a worry. “Let’s get you some Pepto, buddy.”

He takes his son’s hand and leads him downstairs, giving him a dose and taking him back up, laying him back in his bed. “Goodnight. Mommy and daddy love you.” He whispers, going over and kissing his three other children goodnight.

He comes back to your room to find you in bed reading, lights dimmed. Instinctively, he comes over to your side and adjusts the lamp so you’re not straining your eyes to read. He comes back around to his side and turns off his light, lying on his right side and facing you.

When you decide it’s time to sleep, you lean over and turn off the light, putting your book on your nightstand and slipping beneath the covers.

It’s silent for a while before Leon whispers, “Sometimes, I wonder if we should have another baby.”

Your head snaps over to his. “What?”

“Not—“ He scoots a little closer, almost reaching out to take your hand. “not, like, a bandage baby or anything. I don’t think a baby can fix this.” A pause before he gestures in the dark. “Us, I mean.”

You snort despite yourself. “I hope not.”

Leon scoffs, coming a little closer. “You know me. That’s not fair to a little baby. And you said four’s your limit.”

Your heart warms. Maybe you shouldn’t be so surprised he remembered.

“I love you, you know.” Leon murmurs, hesitantly and loosely taking your hand. Even in the dark, you can see him coming.

Your chest aches. “I know.”

Another long pause.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” When your head turns, he’s there, inches from your face.

“That it took me so long to pull my head from my ass. You are… my anchor in this crazy-ass world.” He squeezes your hand, hoping you’ll let him hold it for a while longer. “And I hurt you. You’re the sweetest woman I’ve ever met, and I love you, and I hurt you.”

Your burning eyes scrunch shut as you press your forehead to his.

“I just hope you forgive me—I hope one day, that I’m good enough for you to forgive me.” He whispers, voice wavering. “I want this to work. I want you. God, I miss you.”

Maybe that’s what you needed, you needed to hear him render his heart open.

You come closer, pressing your front to his.

“And even my job—“ He curses, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then the spot between your eyebrows. “I’ll quit.” When you giggle, he huffs. “I’m serious. Give me the word and I’ll quit.”

The tension in his chest eases when you tuck your head beneath his chin. “God, no, don’t do that. At least one of us needs an income.” You mutter, throwing an arm around his waist.

Forgiveness never felt so sweet.

#mine #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #editor’s choice

898 notes · View notes

julietsbody · 10 months ago

Text

romeo meets juliet — luke castellan x reader : chess can be played in many different situations.

tags : 18+!! loser!luke (hes actually such a loser im sorry), college setting, brothers best friend!luke, mutual pining, religious imagery(?), classic literature references, body worship, smut, luke is pathetically in love

a/n : save me nerdy boy with sad eyes save me

luke didn’t acknowledge your existence at first, he stuck to himself, from his classes, to his dorm, maybe even the lunchroom if his roomate, your brother, convinced him to come rather than just making all of his meals in the dorm. luke and your brother were complete opposites, luke was studying literature, mostly classic, he didn’t speak to many people unless forced to— and your brother was studying engineering, which also basically required him to join a frat, and he spoke to nearly everyone with cockiness prominent in his tone.

one thing they did have in common, though, was chess.

now, your brother could never tell anyone, especially not his frat brothers, that he played chess, let alone was in the university’s chess club— but he felt pity for luke, most of the time luke played by himself, which was somehow equally as frustrating as having to play against someone else.

the only people that knew about your brother playing chess was luke, the chess club, and you.

luke remembers the first time you came trotting in to the dorm, complaining to your brother about some argument you had with your parents about how your friends are distracting you from your studies. your brother only rolls his eyes, barely listening to your non - stop whining about how it’s ridiculous, “i mean— you’re the one in a frat! why aren’t they mad at you?”

“because i actually do my work,” he mumbles, and luke breathes out in a silent laugh, moving a piece on his chess board.

“you’re in engineering, you don’t even have any actual work,” you frown, and albeit the fact that you’re wrong, you’re still confident in what you said.

“are you stu— whatever,” your brother waves you off, deciding to change the subject when he motions to luke, the boy in a nirvana t-shirt, currently moving to a different side of the chess board as he plays against himself, “this is luke, my roommate, obviously.”

luke immediately freezes, fingers curling around the chess piece he was adjusting to move— his eyes are wide, and they’re moving to look at you, only to immediately flicker to some other part of the room when they meet your expectant gaze. since he won’t speak first, you pick up the slack, “hey, luke.”

your brother notices how luke looks like a scared, lost puppy even by the slightest implication of having to speak to a woman, let alone be perceived by one, so he moves to whisper in your ear, “he’s like, deathly afraid of women, i’ve never seen him speak to one, ever.”

and you from that you don’t expect a response from luke, until he mumbles a short, “hi.”

that’s when your head tilts, noticing the way his curls fall over his brows messily, like he doesn’t pay attention to styling it, or maybe it’s on purpose, maybe he pays too much attention to styling it. the way he wore something so simple, yet so telling about himself, the way he awkwardly places the chess piece back on the board on the spot he wanted to. he assumes the conversation is over, so he moves to the opposite side of the board to make a move against his own.

“are you in the chess club?” you take a step closer, and he perks up, hand ghosting over the piece once more.

luke doesn’t say anything, his lips twitch around words that don’t come out. your brother speaks in his place, “he’s the president, he’s a fucking grandmaster.”

luke just awkwardly laughs, moving his hand to scratch at the back of his neck, eyes moving from the board to you, then to your brother, “i’m not like— actually the president,” another awkward, short chuckle, “i just— like.. um.. play a lot, i guess.”

“you are the president, dude,” your brother corrects, being insufferable as he always is.

but luke puts up with it, then you ask another question, “what do you major in?”

“literature,” luke responds for himself this time, finally able to move his hand to make a proper move on the chess board, before mumbling, “mostly classic.”

“you’re kidding, i am too, how have i not seen you before?”

luke’s eyes finally meet yours, now, pausing on your eyes, then resuming down the shape of your face, memorizing each feature, the curve of your lashes, the shape of your lips— he swallows thickly.

“i just— sit in the back.. and go to my dorm— as soon as class ends,” there’s that awkward, short chuckle again.

“have you finished the paper?”

luke nods, and that’s when your brother finally gets a bright idea.

“you should help her, luke, with the work.”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

that’s how it all started, with a simple suggestion, that’s when you came to the dorm more often, when he began to notice that you were actually in his classes, and when you realized he had an awful staring problem. he thought he was slick with it too, letting his eyes move around the room for a mere.. twenty seconds before they finally snap to you, and from there, they stay, until you finally return the gaze and he’s immediately nervously looking away.

he hardly speaks to you, unless your brother urges him to, and he’s always avoiding looking at you when he speaks, stumbling over words, pausing in sentences to catch his losing breath. he was a complete and utter loser, terrible when it came to socializing, even worse when it’s with girls. with you, it somehow seemed to worsen.

“am i the first girl you’ve ever talked to?” you ask once, far too blunt for your own liking, you didn’t mean to really say it, it kind of just came out when seeing how much his leg bounced under the table with nervousness, nearly sweating himself to death under your gaze.

sweat beads down his temple when his eyes flutter up to meet yours, moving from the romeo and juliet book in his hands. isn’t it so ironic that he had just gotten done reading the scene in which romeo says, “did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! for i ne'er saw true beauty till this night,” when seeing juliet for the first time? truly, it isn’t the first time he saw you, but it’s night, and you are beautiful. truly, utterly, “beautiful.”

“what?”

oh, oh my god. saliva bubbles in his mouth, sour saliva, and he gulps it down, hoping it would somehow be a form of poison that would wake him from this nightmare. does he say what he meant? that he was thinking out loud? that he thinks you’re beautiful? or should he deny it? deny. he bursts into awkward laughs, “what— what do you mean— i.. i didn’t even say anything.. ha, haha.”

“why are you acting like that?” your brows furrow.

“like what?”

“like you’re hiding something.”

his breathing only shakes anymore, “i’m not hiding anything.. that’s like— a wild accusation.”

“it’s not an accusation, i’m just saying,” you frown at him.

his adam’s apple bobs with another swallow, “okay but like—“

“why are you harassing him?” your brother sighs, tired how much you press luke.

“i’m not— whatever, i was asking you— am i the first girl you’ve ever spoken to?”

your brother barks out a laugh, and luke’s eyes fall back down to the book in his hands. did not having proper conversations with women make him any less? romeo grabbed juliet’s hand once, and the first words he uttered to her was a promise to redeem himself if his hand was too unworthy to be touching her holy one. parallels sear in his mind, and he just mumbles a, “not really.”

he has spoken to women before, sure, small greetings, maybe even the slightest indulgence of conversation— but luke keeps to himself, and to be honest, he was a man used to running from women, as he did from his mother. he grew up being afraid of women, well, afraid isn’t the proper word, intimidated is better, and he just decided to avoid them as much as possible.

though, no matter how much he tries to avoid you, you’re always there, in his sight, in his mind. maybe it’s a disgrace, like romeo holding juliet’s hand, for him to even be thinking of you, looking at you— you were a goddess that offered a man on his knees the slightest bit of your grace, and now he was hooked.

it was pathetic, really, how he anticipated every time he suspected you would be over, how his eyes always found their way to you in class, how he made sure to purposefully walk past you in the lunchroom on the days he went, which was oddly more now.

a man who is still a virgin to adore a girl far too good for him, he is hopeless.

“it’s okay if i am,” you adjust, okay, there might be a little hope, “anyway, how do you like romeo and juliet?”

“it’s pretty nice—“ he notices the way your face perks up in shock, “kind of, i don’t know.”

“i think it’s a bore, i’m sure the movie is much better.”

“we should watch the movie— um.. together, sometime.”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

if luke was being completely honest with himself, he didn’t entirely mean to say it, and as soon as you left the dorm, he nearly doubled over with shock at his own words, and even more shock at the fact that you agreed. not only did you agree, you actually came, and it was just you and him. your brother was off at some frat party, again, and he had left luke completely alone with you, even when luke begged him not to.

“you’re kidding, dude, i’m like— horrified of her,” luke frowns at your brother.

“you need exposure therapy, or some shit, call me your therapist.”

“you’re a shit therapist,” luke sighs, rubbing his temples.

“and you need to grow some balls.”

so, your brother left him, and now luke’s awkwardly standing with you at his door - step, staring at him expectantly, his lips twitch around so many possible words, possible sentences, and all that comes out is, “hey.”

he’s been staring for you for at least a minute, and all he can say is hey. your lips curve to an amused smile, “hi, luke.”

“um— you can come in, if you.. want, ‘course.” he moves out the way to let you in, watching you step past him so he can close the door.

“i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want to,” you remark as if it’s the obvious, mostly because it is.

when romeo stood underneath juliet’s balcony, he praised how captivating she was, considers her as glorious as an angel, a winged messenger above his head. in his own words :

“one who makes mortals fall onto their backs to gaze up in awe as the angel strides across the clouds and sails through the air.”

consider luke on his back now, staring up at the stars in your eyes, the halo that shines above your head, the wings that flap with every stride you make— a goddess, an angel, venus incarnate, right before his eyes, staring at him like he had something deeply wrong with him. wait. he blinks a few times, and his eyes refocus onto your confused face.

“are you okay, luke?”

he quickly clears his throat, “yeah, yeah— duh, ‘course i am, uh.. we should,” he moves to the table in which his laptop was on, “watch the movie, yeah? ‘ts on my.. laptop, if you don’t mind.”

“i don’t, at all,” you move to sit next to him on the couch in front of the table, watching the veins in his hands pulse, palms sweaty when he moves to open his laptop, shifting a few tabs and pressing a few keys until he mumbles a small okay and presses the space button.

moaning. that’s all you hear, the sound of skin slapping, ah ah— oh fuck mmph you’re so b— luke slams the laptop shut.

dear god, save him now.

he can’t even bring himself to look at you, the sweat on his palms only worsens and spreads onto the top of the laptop as he smoothes his hands across it, replaying the scene a million times in his mind. to his surprise, you giggle, “you watch porn?”

he’s quick to awkwardly scoff out a short laugh, “yeah— i mean, everyone does.. but like.. i don’t watch it— that much.”

your finger moves to run along the vein on his arm, feeling him shudder under your touch, yet he doesn’t want you to stop, even the slightest touch makes his dick twitch in his pants, “are you a virgin, luke?”

he inhales sharply, “y-yeah..”

“do you want to have sex?” you lean the tiniest bit closer.

he pauses, “yes.. of course—“

“with me?”

“yes.” he responds quick, too fucking quick, it must’ve been at most a second after you said it for him to respond. the truth stings his tongue, to finally be able to say it out loud, how much he had fantasized about you in the late of night, even sneaking off to the bathrooms so his hand can dip underneath his waistband when he thinks about the times you’ve worn a tight shirt that frames your tits far too well.

but it was wrong, wasn’t it? you were a goddess, on a pedestal, and he was merely just a man, staring up at your statue in the hopes that you would notice him one day. forbidden, possibly, but all those thoughts leave his mind when his eyes move from the finger tracing up his bicep to your neck, then your lips, then your eyes.

“please tell me you’ve kissed before.”

“yeah.. yeah— i have,” a playground kiss counts, right?

it seems to when your lips fall against his own, the kiss was so gentle, until he dared to kiss you back, then it got hungry, mostly on his end. he kissed you like a starving man, nearly devouring you but at the same time, being horrified to. your tongue finds it’s way into his mouth, and to your surprise, he whimpers against your lips.

his hands are hesitant, unsure of where to go, does he touch your arm? your shoulder? your waist? he doesn’t want to push anything, so the waist seems far too much, his hands awkwardly place themselves on your arm, in a very weird position.

“have you touched a girl before?”

his lips are flushed from the kiss, eyes glazing over the position of his hands, and he quickly moves them off, “sorry— well, i just.. um.. didn’t want to push anything.”

“you can,” you reassure, but his hands still hesitate, the flesh of a goddess, to be touched by someone so inexperienced. was he really worth it? any of it? to even be in your presence was a blessing, and it was still taking him forever to register the fact that you had actually kissed him, prayers passed through your lips into his.

“are you sure?”

“‘course i am.”

it still took luke some getting used to, having you straddle his lap, you knew so much, it felt like more than just an honor to have you so close to him. his eyes flicked from your own to your lips, then to your tits, the low v - cut showing off your cleavage perfectly. and he looked like a complete deer in headlights, staring at the flesh pushed together between the window of clothing. you smile at his lack of self control, feeling the way his dick throbs underneath his pants, right against your ass, “you can touch them.”

“wha— nono, ‘ts okay— i just..” he trails off, sweaty palms moving past you to slide across his knees.

“really, luke, you can— why don’t i just..” you move to take off your shirt, his eyes immediately catching on to the lace of your bra, the way your tits are practically spilling out of it, all until you take off your bra as well and they immediately fall out.

his hand twitches around nothing, desperately wondering what it must feel like to have your flesh underneath his palm, fingers curling around the plush of it. it seems you must’ve heard his prayers when you move to take his hands, pulling them back to press against your tits.

soft, that’s his first thought, sweat sticks to your skin when his fingers curve around the flesh, gripping it ever so gently. praises spill from his lips almost immediately, thoughts he had since the day he saw you, finally being spoken, “y’re beautiful— fuck, i’ve always.. always wanted to— do this..”

you smile so sweet at him, nectar nearly drips off your teeth, “can i ride you, luke?”

his eyes finally meet yours, brows furrowing for a mere second, “huh— oh, oh.. yeah, ‘course you can.”

you didn’t expect him to have a big, no matter how cruel that sounds, you had heard rumors of nerds with big dicks, but sought to never believe it until you saw it, and good fucking lord you saw it. as soon as his dick springs out from the pants and boxers you were tugging down, luke’s hands mindlessly moved to your waist, your eyes widen.

no fucking way. he has to be.. six? seven inches, at least. slightly girthy too, he wasn’t all just length, and precum was beading from his red tip. he immediately inhales sharply when your fingers graze his dick, nervous under your gaze, “is it too small— i.. i’m sorry—“

“too small?” you scoff playfully at his scared expression, worried of what you think, “this might be the biggest dick i’ve ever seen, luke.”

“that’s— a good thing.. right?”

“obviously, god, it better fit,” this is the first time you’ve ever been concerned about whether or not a dick will fit, luke stiffens when you spit on your palm, pressing it to his dick and wettening it as you jerk him off, his response is immediate, carefully gripping at your skin and pressing his lips together to muffle his whimpers.

luke had jerked of many, many times, but it never felt as good as this.

“fuck—“ he grunts out, already far too close from just a simple hand movements.

you immediately stop, picking up on his nearing orgasm from the way his hips kept bucking up into your hands, pathetic whines slipping past his lips, but it was just so cute. the cutest thing, though, was his face when he got the first look at your vagina, he looked like a man staring at a piece of art he had admired. and this was art, sex was, you were, everything about you, it felt so sacred.

his lashes flutter when you take his hand, guiding it to your sopping cunt, allowing him to feel the wetness that was nearly pouring from you. like nectar from a fountain, it coated his fingertips when he touched you, his eyes focused onto your face, making sure that he was doing it right. he notices the way you gasp when his fingertips brush against your clit, so he presses against it again, and again.

he follows everything he has seen in pornos, spreading your folds, fingers grazing past your entrance, rubbing your clit— but he’s lost when you wave him off before he can finger you to prep you for his dick, wasn’t that something people did? “but don’t you…”

“it’ll fit,” you mumble back, relying on how wet you are to make it easier.

he watches the way your jaw falls when you move to press his tip against your entrance, allowing the tip to push into you and it’s already too big. his eyes widen at the feeling of your walls clenching around his tip, unable to hold back the noises that slip from his own lips.

“you’re like— the.. the girl of my dr— fuck— dreams,” luke hushed out between his mess of moans and grunts, he wondered if romeo ever felt this way when he kissed juliet for the first time, the sort of electric rush that riddled his bones, it felt unreal. you were a dream incarnate, one luke was always haunted with, the woman that would show up when his eyes would close at night, and now you were on his lap, sinking down on his dick.

“am i? really?” you question, inhaling sharply when you finally reach the base of his cock. for some odd reason, you didn’t believe you were all he was putting you up to be, and that made him sick— how could you think of yourself as any less? you were perfect, a vision, to be fair, luke would adore you even if you were an enemy, just like romeo and juliet.

he would stand at your balcony, stare at you from across the ballroom, kiss your knuckles, kiss you— he would do it all. he might even drink poison just to spend eternity with you.

“yes, yes— are you.. kidding? mmph.. fuck— you’re like.. a fuckin’ goddess,” it comes out like a prayer, as if he was on his knees at your altar, kissing your legs, and whispering worshipping words.

to nobody’s surprise, luke doesn’t last long at all when you’re bouncing on his cock, no matter how much he tried to distract himself from his throbbing cock by pawing at your tits, or moving to kiss you, his orgasm was just too close. “‘m g’na.. please.. g’na cum.. mmphh.. fuck!”

when he does cum, you had pulled off him, jerking him off, and he’s practically writhing, a whimpering and damn near crying mess. and once he’s helped you to your orgasm as well, you’re falling into his arms, finding a safe - haven in how he smells like old books, mint, and cheap cologne.

two star crossed lovers, one capulet, one montague.

“these violent delights have violent ends and in their triumph die, like fire and powder. which, as they kiss, consume.” — romeo and juliet, act two, scene six.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #pjo luke #charlie bushnell imagine #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell #loser!luke

2K notes · View notes

ggidolsmuts · 4 months ago

Text

Cheeky Icy Thong - STAYC Sieun

"Hi oppa!" Sieun's boyfriend opens the door at the welcome voice.

"Hey Sieun, come in!" The ever lovable girlfriend bounces through the door and kisses him.

"Did you miss me?"

"Of course!"

"I missed you too," she says, hugging him tightly.

"Mmhmm, should we go somewhere for dinner?"

"No, how about we just stay in and order? I just want to relax with oppa," Sieun says pointedly. He blinks once, twice, three times.

"Oh, um, sure, yeah."

Sieun lies in bed as she hears the rustle of plastic bags, her boyfriend picking up the delivered food at the door. Her head is lightly buzzing from her orgasm, but an annoying part of her wanted more—it was less "satisfying" and more "satiating". He kept asking her if she was feeling good, if she liked it. But he was asking too much! She did like it and she did cum, but Sieun couldn't bring herself to tell him that she wasn't "feeling" it, wasn't getting into it. Everything else about him was great, if she could just get him to be more assertive...

"Oppa, how do you feel when we do it?"

"Hmm? I like it, it feels good! You don't?" He suddenly looks at her, concerned.

"No, I do, I just think that we could have a more fun time." She grabs his hand, bringing it to her bare thigh. "Don't worry so much about me, you should do what you want," Sieun adds. She fully expected him to run his hand up her thigh, maybe go around to grab her ass and pull her closer, but no.

"Mm really? Okay, I just want to make sure you feel good." His hand almost insultingly goes to grab her hand, turning what Sieun wanted to be an intimate, maybe even passionate, moment into a sweet one.

"Sure oppa." Sieun would have to do more—part of that is her fault, she figures. She usually liked to be treated as a princess, and her boyfriend ticked that box well, ever thoughtful and loving to her. However, there is a small yet almost overpowering part of her that wanted the opposite, a little rebellious streak, the petulant part of being a princess—she wanted to see what he could do. If only she could make him understand that...

Somehow.

"Hi oppa!" Sieun lets herself in this time, bouncing into his apartment again.

"Oh, hey Sieun!" He looks up briefly, but only briefly before he returns to his screen.

"Ah it's so hot today," she says pointedly—rather than her usual tops Sieun is wearing a spaghetti top, showing lots of skin and a deep neckline. If only the idiot cared to look closely.

"Really? Even with that top?" *Damn it that's not the point!* "Make sure you use plenty of sunscreen!" Argh! Now Sieun's properly annoyed, showing this much skin only to have the wrong response from him, on top of now having to worry about her skincare!

"Let's just watch a movie," Sieun sighs, plopping herself down on the couch. A second opportunity reveals itself as the two of them snuggle on the sofa. Surreptitiously Sieun slips one of the straps off her shoulder before pulling her boyfriend's hand around her, making sure he notices the lack of a strap.

"Hm?" Sieun spies him looking at her out of the corner of her eye, and the hand over her bare shoulder twitches. And he slips his hand off her shoulder to... pull her strap up again! Doofus! Sieun tries again a little later, brushing her hair and accidentally slipping her strap off again. He feels her bare shoulder again, and this time he is slower, his hand gently gripping her shoulder before languidly pulling it up.

"Sieun?"

"Yes?"

"Do you umm, want to stay the night?" Sieun is partially satisfied—it's his way of asking her for sex, but she wishes he was more assertive, to tell her she should stay, that he wants her to stay. But no, it's always what Sieun wants to do that comes first. "That is, if you have no schedules tomorrow?"

"No, I can stay the night."

"Okay, great." Sieun stays seated, waiting for him to make a move. Yet over the next 15 minutes all that happens is Sieun catching him looking at her out of the side of her eyes. She'd have to be the one to move things forward.

"I'm bored, should we just go to bed?" He could not move any faster.

"Yes, same, let's go." Sieun is pleasantly surprised as he takes her by the hand and leads her to the bedroom. The post-coitus clarity settles in for Sieun as he gets up to dispose of the condom—he was more eager, more forward, so that's progress. But he was still very mindful of what she wanted, of how she would want things done, when really what Sieun wanted was to be done, and done hard. She would have to work on it more.

"Oppa, you've seen my performances right?" she asks him, snuggling against his chest.

"Yeah."

"What type of hairstyles do you like on me?"

"You look good in everything, so just whatever you have at the time."

"But you must have a favorite right? Orange hair, black hair, which do you prefer?"

"I guess black?"

"Okay, and hairstyle?"

"I dunno, you look good in everything," he reiterates.

"Would you want to see me in something different? Anything you would find sexy?"

"Maybe? I think you pull any look off, so it'll be fun to see something different." Sieun nods thoughtfully, already thinking about potential hairstyles. Her comeback was coming up, maybe she could really shock him out of his system.

"Okay, well, I have my comeback soon, so I won't be able to see you for a while."

"Really? I'll miss you! Make sure you're eating properly and don't get hurt okay?" He hugs her tightly. He's such a lovable sap! She just needs to make him a lovable sap some of the time, not all of the time.

"Hi oppa, did you miss me!"

"Si-Sieun?" You scarcely recognize the girlfriend you bid goodbye to weeks ago. "Why are you dressed like that?" In addition to her spaghetti top and an extremely short skirt, she is wearing her hair completely different—gone are the days of simple long hair with her bangs parted, Sieun has bangs, her hair is black, and her hair is done up in pigtails!

"We just finished the last touches on the MV and filming, so I thought I'd come visit you, give you a sneak peek of the concept!"

"Oh okay... It's cute? I think?"

"Wait really? That's not what we were going for though." Sieun seems slightly put off.

"Oh, what was it supposed to be?"

"It's supposed to be cheeky, a little naughty, you know?" Sieun bites her lower lip for emphasis, and you are stunned for a second. With her new look it feels like you are seeing a whole new side of Sieun. You squirm a little on the spot, trying to quell your desires quickly.

"Sure. Do you want something to drink?"

"Whatever you want, I just want to spend some time with you. We should watch a movie!"

"Aww, did my Sieun miss me?"

"What, did you not?" Sieun pouts, firmly pressing herself to you, and you have to back your hips away, lest she feels you growing.

"Of course! Okay let me go get something, you can go choose a movie."

Sieun settles in on the couch, her mind working quickly—his response was more muted than expected, but he was definitely hiding more from her. She saw his eyes widen when he took her in, felt him tense when she hugged him, and the way he backed his hips away from her when she pressed close—she just needed to do a little more! She flips through the movies and chooses one that she knows has a raunchier and more intense scene in the middle.

"Oh what's this one about?"

"I dunno, it sounded interesting, let's just watch it." They're sitting close together, but not nearly close enough for Sieun's liking. She pushes herself right next to him, almost sitting in his lap, and she draws his arm around her waist, making sure it "drops" slightly as she wiggles her butt to get comfortable, right on the hem of her skirt. One arm slips between his arm, and Sieun presses her modest chest against his arm, all to cuddle him more, to tempt him further.

As the movie goes on and gets to the passionate "good" parts, Sieun pushes herself more on him, making sure he's aware that she's right there, ready to do what's on the screen. He looks at her, breathing deeply.

"Sieun, do you want to stay the night?" The normal Sieun would say yes—after a while without seeing him, she wants it just as bad as he does. That's exactly why Sieun knows what to say to get him to crack.

"No, I can't, I have something tomorrow." She tries to get up, and he pulls her back, making her fall against him. He catches her, and Sieun smiles at his surprise when his hand finds itself under her skirt, touching bare skin already.

"Y-You didn't wear underwear?" he asks hoarsely, throat suddenly very dry. Reflexively he squeezes her cheek, feeling the juiciness of Sieun's ass. Just a little more...

"Even better, I did." Sieun cheekily replies, quickly getting up and pressing her skirt down, leaving him open-mouthed and dumbfounded while he tries to comprehend her words. "I'm heading out," she says airily, her hand briefly lifting her skirt as a tease.

"Fuck..." you mutter under your breath. You caught the briefest of glimpses as her hand flicked her skirt up—Sieun's wearing underwear indeed, except it's a small black thong, her pale cheeks tantalizing in the dim light. You had to feel her again! The sight of your sweet and lovable Sieun looking like the perfect representation of a fuckdoll is rewiring your brain in real time. You hug her from behind tightly, and as you cross your arms around her midriff you feel something... hard?

"W-What's this?" he asks her, breath hot and heavy in her ear. The way he grabs her has Sieun in a tizzy, and she has to take a deep breath to swallow a moan—she can feel his desire very tangibly against her back. "Sieun, what's this?" he repeats.

"A piercing, I decided to get one for the comeback, do you like it?" Sieun forces herself away from him, twirling around and slightly pulling her top up to reveal the little silver stud on her bellybutton. She watches his eyes trail from her face and down her body, settling on her flat midriff. The gaze then drops a little lower, and then it goes back to Sieun's face. Something is different.

"Ah!" He grabs her by the wrist this time, and he's not leading her to the bedroom, he's taking her there. Sieun lands on the bed, and he's on top of her immediately. His hands are on her shoulders, his weight pressing her down, but then... nothing?

"Fuck Sieun, I'm sorry." Your hands tremble as you force yourself to keep them only on her shoulders, resisting the urge to tear her outfit apart. Your words are labored, as if you've almost forgotten how to talk. "I need you." Your hips press down on her almost involuntarily, as if indicating what exactly you needed to do.

Sieun whines when you do so, and you could feel why too—she's fucking soaked. You breathe even more deeply into her neck. "Please stay the night."

Sieun almost forgets about the plan when she hears him speak. He took her to the bedroom, topped her like a hungry beast and then told her he needed her. He's so close to breaking, yet he restrains himself, begging her to say yes, to allow him to have her. Seeing and feeling wanted is sending a surge of power straight between her legs, and she twitches, almost throwing everything away to wrap her legs around him. She settles for wrapping her arms around his head, running a hand teasingly through his hair.

"No." His breath hitches, puffing against her skin. Sieun licks her lips, kisses his neck, and says the magic words.

"Make me stay."

In an instant he pulls her top down, palming and grabbing at her chest hungrily. Sieun feels his hand dance across her thigh briefly before reeling and throwing her head back—he's shoved two fingers unceremoniously into her, and yet she's wet enough to take him with no trouble.

"Fuck!" he growls into her ear, immediately withdrawing his digits to remove his shorts. Brazenly he lifts her skirt, and Sieun is momentarily embarrassed at her own state—her top is rolled down, her skirt is flipped up, scrunched around her waist, and her small black thong pulled to the side is doing nothing to "protect" her from him right now. He looks nothing like his usual loving herself—he eyes her up and down, his gaze dark and hungry, watching her every expression as he twists and curls inside her, feeling just how wet she is for him. He removes his fingers, licking them ravenously: Sieun tasted ready, smelled ready. Sieun definitely looked ready too—nothing like her usual prim and loveable self either, no; she looks cheap, wanton, easy. In the process of trying to break her boyfriend down, Sieun's breaking down in the very same way, letting her desires take over.

An unholy mix of grunt and moan escape both of them as he pushes himself in, and Sieun finds her hips being slammed and bruised almost immediately—they don't even register that he's doing her raw, with no condom, they just know that it feels fucking amazing!

"Oh my god fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" Sieun's limbs are wrapped around him tightly, so much so that he's bouncing them off the bed, wildly thrusting and threatening to fuck the clinging Sieun into pieces. A loud scream pierces his eardrums, and he watches her cum, expression slack, little bellybutton stud quivering in bliss. He flips her around and pulls her ass up, and with Sieun's cry muffled by the pillow he fucks her from behind, a hand squeezing her pale cheeks, contrasted beautifully against the thong that's still on—she hasn't even lost a piece of clothing yet!

Sieun's in absolute ecstasy, the pounding she's getting far beyond what she thought he was capable of. He's getting so deep into her that she can't think straight, the sound of his body smashing into hers making her head ring. He has a hand on her tummy, finger playing with her piercing as he grabs her and goes even harder. She has to bite the pillow, suppressing the base sounds being ripped from her throat.

"Mmmf... Gah!" He uses both hands to pull on her pigtails, a jolt of pain shooting straight through her that becomes pure pleasure on the next thrust.

"So fucking naughty," he snarls, "I want to hear you cum." Me, naughty? She thinks to herself. Maybe she should be naughty more often, especially if this is the result.

"Y-Your naughty girl is going to cum, keep fucking your cheeky naughty girl!" He pulls harder on her hair, and they seem to yank Sieun's eyes to the back of her head, making her clench erratically around him once more. This time he cums with her, instantly firing a thick load deep into her womb. Sieun can barely manage a whimper as her orgasm overwhelms her, her senses firing all at once as she feels every hot shot of cum go straight to her head. She feels him still half-hard, still trying to fuck her, to push his cum deeper into her, until finally he gives up, collapsing the two of them into a pile of limbs.

"S-Sieun, fuck, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..." you rasp in her ear a little later. "What did we do? We've never done it without a condom! What did I do, oh my god!"

"You did amazing," she says hoarsely, her voice gone from her screaming earlier. "That was exactly what I wanted."

"W-What? I came in you, that's what you wanted?"

"Well, I didn't plan on that, but I can handle it." Sieun blushes, but continues on, a finger dipping and scooping the load oozing out of her. "I wanted you to do what you want to do, and not to think about me."

"What? Why? I could've hurt you, wait did I hurt you—" she shushes you with a finger.

"No, it felt so good. Because," Sieun brings your hand between her legs, making you feel your handiwork—creamy and wet. "Because it makes me feel good when you feel good, it turns me on seeing you eye me like a piece of meat. I don't just want to always feel loved, I want to feel needed."

"I always need you," you murmur, and Sieun squirms lower, trying to have your fingers in her. You oblige, pushing your cum back back into her and showing her how needed she is.

"K-Keep saying it!" she gasps, her eyes glassy with desire.

"I need you all the time, and if you're going to tease me like that I don't know what I'll do to you." You line Sieun's walls with cum, smearing your thick white paint all over her with curling fingers.

"Do whatever you want, it feels so good when you do it—" Her eyes flutter shut and she throws her head back, a choked moan leaving her throat as she quickly cums again. She breaks into a smile when she comes down. "I guess I'll have to stay the night, I can barely feel my legs." You help her to the bathroom, and the two of you clean up before cuddling in bed, exhausted from the short but intense session.

Sieun wakes up the next morning, a sore but satisfying buzz running through her body. A moment later she realizes what the satisfying buzz is—his mouth on her pussy, humming away like a happy eater.

"Oppa?" He doesn't hear her, her thighs squeezed involuntarily around his head deafening him. But he realizes she's awake, and with two hands on her cheeks he lifts her hips, giving him a better angle to eat her out from. "Wait, mmm! Ah!" Sieun has no say in the matter, her back arching, a morning stretch of the best kind. To Sieun's delightful dismay she realizes something—him knowing how to pleasure her and being able to do it when she asks for it is well and fine, but him knowing how to pleasure her and able to do it when he wanted to is a thoroughly lethal combination. The type of combination that could keep Sieun bedridden, pleasure-stricken and stuck in the throes of ecstasy like she is right now, his fingers rubbing her g-spot and his tongue doing god-knows-what to her clit. "Fuck, I can't, mmm!"

Sieun goes rigid, trembling in your hands. Her thighs tighten their hold on your head, and you tighten your squeeze on her cheeks, squeezing and delighting in the juice her pink well produces. You let her land back on the bed and get back to eye level with her.

"I needed to taste you." Sieun blushes, cheeks glowing from her orgasm. "I need to do more with you, stay here." Sieun remains on the bed, obedient but also thrilled at what you have planned. She's surprised, if not a little disappointed, when you come back with only a cup of ice water in hand.

"Want some?"

"Sure." Sieun takes a gulp, letting out a refreshing sigh. "What did you want to do more with me?" She had to know.

"Turn around, I want to give you a massage."

"Eh? What?" You do not brook any questioning, removing her nightdress and flipping her on her back. Your hands are on her shoulders, firmly pushing her down on the bed. "I don't need—"

"But I do." Your tone is firm, letting Sieun know that you would not have it any other way—from the way you're pushing down on her, she wouldn't be able to do anything anyways... and it's fucking hot. So Sieun let's you do it, your hands working on her nicely.

"I never knew you could do massages." Sieun manages between sighs, feeling your hands work on her shoulder blades and down her back. She really didn't mind it at all after the stress preparing for a comeback.

"You never asked me to."

"I'll be asking for it from now on then."

"I'll be giving it to you before you ask." The double-entendre is not lost on Sieun, and she wiggles her hips. You removes your hands from her, and Sieun's almost anticipating you to take her right there, but you don't. "I love you," you whisper into the air.

Before Sieun could respond she yelps, feeling something very cold right in the middle of her back! "Oppa!"

"Let me do this." You hold the ice cube on the middle of her back, rotating it in circles on her pale skin—not enough to be painful, but just enough for goosebumps to rise as Sieun wiggles to try and get away from it. You bring it up to the back of her neck, and Sieun gasps, reacting to the icy chill with a jerk of her head. You continue rubbing the ice cube over her back, bringing it down to her lower back and letting it run across her toned cheeks, before teasing the inside of her thighs. By now the cube has mostly melted from her body heat, and you're just fondling her with your cold hand, covering her in a sheen of moisture.

"Turn around." Sieun flips over obediently, her mouth slightly open, reeling from the new sensations. She never thought you would be interested in something like this, but how could she have known? Like with massages, she had never asked!

"It's a little too cold."

"I'll warm you up." You take a fresh cube, placing it at her neck and making her twitch once more. You salve it with a warm breath and a kiss, and Sieun moans.

"Ohhh... That's nice, that's really nice." You make note of it and move lower, eyeing Sieun as you bring the ice cube down to her tits. She bites her lower lip in anticipation, but even that's not enough to prepare her for the cold touching her nipples, her whimper soft and delicate. You bring your lips to them, breathing warm air on her ends, turning their cold-induced stiffness into arousal-tipped points. Then you move down to her stud, and touch the ice cube to it.

"Hnngh!" Her flat tummy shivers cutely, and you place your mouth over her little button, kissing it warmly and using your tongue to nudge it around. It drives Sieun up the wall—she's so sensitive from the cold, and the unexpected playing around with her piercing amplifies everything, and she's not sure how much more teasing she can take!

"Why did you get the piercing?" you ask her, moving the ice cube to her thighs and between her legs, threatening. Sieun spreads her legs, more to get away from the cold than anything, but still very enticing.

"I thought you might find it hot, that maybe you'll think of me as something more than lovable."

"Is that why you changed the way you dress, your hairstyle, your thong?" The last word is like a whip to Sieun as you bring the last remaining piece of ice near her pussy, and it melts in your hands, joining the puddle of slick leaking from her wet heat.

"Ohh yes, yes yes yes!" Sieun babbles a response as you replace the cold with your warm breath, eating her out again. You plunge your fingers into her and Sieun reels from the penetration, using her hand to stifle a loud moan. The enhanced sensitivity from the cold is wrecking her self-control, your warm fingers curling deep in her causing her to heat up to her boiling point. "D-Don't stop— No wait, don't, stop!" Your tongue flicks on her clit incessantly, and Sieun finds your head, pushing it hard against her pussy as she cums.

"Ah no, cum— hnnnnngh!" Sieun groans as satisfying relief washes through her, her body instantly hot with pleasure. She squirts all over your face, limbs rigid and jerking as her muscles seize up. After she's done cumming her brains out Sieun lays there, her skin shining with the melted ice, her thighs a combination of slick and water as you finally remove yourself from her.

"Haah!" She whimpers as something huge enters her too-tight tunnel instead. "Oppa!"

"I need you right now! Isn't this what you wanted?" you growl in her ear, and Sieun can only whine and nod. She sees your face covered in her juices and covers her own face in embarrassment, but you pull them away. "You wanted me to need you, need my sexy fuckdoll that I can do whatever I want with?" If last night was wild and feral with few words, today morning is intense and directed, giving Sieun maximum pleasure by hitting spots only you knew. You put one of her legs on your shoulder, keeping the other pinned with your hips—you're quite literally splitting her open.

"Oh fuck, that's deep!"

"You like me loving you, but you wanted me to lust after you? Doing things to you that you never thought to ask? So greedy." You suck on her earlobe, which you knew she liked.

"Nngh yes, it feels so good!"

"I'm not going to do it all the time, I don't want to break my cheeky fuckdoll." You grab her ass for emphasis.

"I won't break," Sieun challenges you, even as she has to bite her lip to stifle a moan. "Just bend— Mmm!" She can't hold it in as you push even deeper, widening the split.

"Doing all this, changing your whole image, when all you had to do was ask!" The fact that it was mainly for STAYC's comeback is lost on the two of you in the moment. "Such a bad influence on me Sieun."

"You're right, I've been so bad!" Sieun set out to break you down, to corrupt you, yet at this point who is corrupting who? "I wanted you to need me, to lose control!" The split is undone as Sieun places her other leg on your shoulder, letting you push both knees to her chest as Sieun is the one that starts losing control, her eyes rolling in her head once more as you dip deep into her.

"Well you did it last night, making me need to fuck you raw, making me need to cum in you." Sieun clenches around you at the thought of being creampied, but you wanted to hear her say it. "Looks like I'm doing you raw again already, should I do what I need to do?"

"Yes, do whatever you need to do, fill your fuckdoll up!" Sieun cries, on the edge herself. A few more punishing thrusts into her later you groan and explode, pumping her full of cum for the second time. Sieun pulls you in for a forceful kiss, nails digging into your hair and dragging across your neck as you moan into the liplock—Sieun's cumming too, milking you for all that you have.

"Oh god, it's so hot inside me..." Sieun wraps her legs around your hips, making sure you stay in her after. You watch her eyes flutter shut, lost in ecstasy, her tongue licks her lips, like she's savoring your thick load directly, thoroughly enjoying the rawness of everything. Then she opens her eyes, and she's back to being Sieun—the kiss you two share is back to being lovable and tender, feeling her smile against your lips and holding her close.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I feel so good."

"I'm glad." You two stay like that for a little longer, before you finally slip out and roll off her. "We should go to the pharmacy, get you something," you mutter, quickly getting Sieun wipes to clean up.

"Don't worry, I'll handle it, but I have to go soon." She pecks you on the lips and jumps in the bathroom, coming out shortly after looking like the Sieun you're more familiar with. But as you watch her put her outfit together again you felt a twitch, and had to say something.

"You better not show up in that outfit again." It was a warning and a promise.

"Why not? What's going to happen?" You stay silent at her smirk, debating if you should just jump her again. "Guess I'll find out next time." She pulls her top up slightly to show off her belly piercing once more, before turning around with a deliberate flourish.

"Cheeky. I need you against the door, now."

A/N: I've been down bad for Sieun in their latest comeback, she looks so good it's crazy. I had the idea of wanting to write one where the OC is seduced/corrupted, and Sieun's transformation was perfect for it. But as always it "fails" and she's falling along with him heh. Had the idea during their comeback but it's over already lol, rip took too long. Anyways thanks for reading!

#smut #stayc #sieun

407 notes · View notes

gothic-thoughts · 3 months ago

Text

Scariest Promotion Ever

(im tired of hiding my love for him yall, Im coming out as a slasher lover)

Michael Myers x Black Fem Reader Fluff

MeetCute(?), Nurse!Reader, AsylumPatient!Michael

Part 2: Here

CW: Your first time meeting Michael and his threatening ass aura in person, hair pulling, fear, crying

Word Count: 1489 (give or take)

The guards opened the door and moved aside for me to enter but I was frozen. They looked at me expectantly, but all I could do was clutch my clipboard to my chest and tremble as my eyes search the dark room for the patient I was supposed to be watching. I look back at the guards, voice shaking.

“W-why did the last nurse quit again...?”

The guards look at each other a little worried then back at me.

“Quit?” One asked.

“They... told me she quit.”

“Uh, sure... Technically she did "quit" the job... forever...”

“...What...?”

“He, uh...” The other guard joined in, “He didn't like her I guess.”

“They usually last a whole lot longer than she did. She was so scared of him that she barely spoke to him and...”

I gulp thickly, “And...?”

“He strangled her... before he removed her face...”

I gasp, turning to look back into the dimness of Michael’s room, the only light being the gloomy sunlight seeping through the barred window on the other side of the area. My breath catches in my throat and my stomach burns and bubbles with fear. The guards assured me that the door would stay open now when nurses visit him specifically because of the incident, hoping that I'd calm down.

But of course, my only thought was to make sure I talked to him.

I hesitantly step over the threshold of his doorway with the 2 guards remaining just outside to monitor me— or rather, monitor Michael Myers, making sure he doesn't kill me or at the very least become violent. His room is cold, dark, and... full of masks. I examine the few that I could see with the sun pouring in through the window before scanning the dark side of the room until my eyes lay on the eerily still figure sitting on the bed against the opposite wall. I gulp softly, swallowing my vomit at the stomach-tightening realization that he was most likely watching me since the door opened.

“Uh... H-hi Michael...”

No words. I couldn’t even see him blink because of that orange papier-mâché mask he was wearing. The only way I knew he was even alive was the slow rise and fall of his broad chest. His masked face never moved or turned, it stayed focused on me— analyzing me— before his head slightly tilted to the right. After a few more seconds of deafening silence, Michael slowly stands up, making my eyes drift upwards to watch him essentially grow until he’s standing at 6’9” making me realize another thing my boss left out about him— his fucking height.

“Wow... Um, I-I'm your n-new nurse... I'm just here to watch you and... a-and...”

When he begins to walk it scares a sharp gasp out of me, which he didn’t even acknowledge. His steps are heavy and threateningly slow so I back away at the same pace, hoping to somehow get to the door before he could hurt me. That’s when I heard the door slam with a small, muffled apology thrown my way; something about not wanting him to get out.

I shake, forcing myself to calm down enough until I feel the door against my back. Michael continues to get closer, towering over me as he is practically trapping me against the door, and he still hasn’t said a word. I flinch away, shut my eyes, and hold my clipboard in front of my face as some wack form of protection for it only for it to be ripped from my hands and tossed across the room with a clatter.

I yelp, tears brimming my eyes as I reach back and paw at the door, looking for the handle but Michael’s head tilts, an indication that he caught on before he swiftly grabs my wrist with one of his huge hands causing a terrified shriek to leave my lips. The guards bang on the door and call his name, trying to get his attention.

“Michael!” One called, "Michael stop!"

“Michael, get away from the door and leave her alone!”

“She’s just here to help you!”

“You gotta give her a chance!”

He still hasn’t spoken, just remained eerily still as he looked down at my tear-streaked face. After a few seconds, his free hand grabs the couple of box braids in front of my face tightly, fingers slowly rubbing up and down the duo-colored strands. I wince at the slight pain and shock before I look up at him with pleading eyes and hushed whimpers. He slowly lifts the braids higher to his face before letting them slip through his fingers to fall back to my chest. He firmly grabs them and lifts them again, the tautness in my scalp causing me to move closer to him in hopes of relieving it. I sniffle, watching him with confusion.

“Y-you like them..?”

No words— I don’t even think he heard me, but he keeps threading the thin, silky strands through his thick fingers. He suddenly yanks them to bring them closer.

“Agh!” I swat his hand away with my free hand, “That hurts!”

His hand suddenly stops moving and I begin crying again, trying to step back as my brain swirls with regret as I realize what I did. He suddenly encloses the 4 braids in a giant fist and tightens his hand on my wrist as I start to sob softly.

“No no no no no, okay... I'm sorry, okay?” I whimper, gasping for air, “I'm sorry, I’m so sorry... It was just instinct 'cause it hurt... y-you have to be gentle if you like them...”

He grunts under his mask then opens his fist, letting my braids drape over his index finger as he strokes it gently with his thumb. My eyes widen slightly; he actually listened.

“Y-yeah... Yeah, like that... There you go...”

He gently continues to run his fingers over the hair, letting out a much softer huff.

“U-um...” I wipe my tears, trying to stay calm, “They're called box braids... they're braided into my h-hair to protect it... A-and sometimes... it's a little tight on my scalp so it hurts when it’s pulled... that's why I swatted you... it was an instinct, I’m sorry...”

His head nods so slightly that I almost didn’t notice. He was listening to me... and he seemed to be following instructions. I continue to look up at his orange mask, my eyes occasionally drifting back to his large fingers playing with the four braids. I looked into the eyeholes of the mask in an attempt to see what his eyes looked like since his body language was much calmer now, meaning that hopefully, he was less likely to react. His eyes suddenly snap to mine, the cold, pale blue irises sending a chill through my body. Michael huffs heavily again, his fingers slowly leaving the braids to which I let out a sigh of relief.

“Uh, it's time for lunch... A-are you hungry?”

His head tilted before he released my wrist and backed up so I took it as a yes and slowly stepped out of the way of the door as I opened it, allowing him to step out with slow, heavy steps that made the guards back up and rest their hands over their tasers. But he just stands there, towering over us and staring down at me. Even when the guards call for him, he remains still. Eerily still. I look at the two guards, then back at the 6’9” killer, wondering why he opted to stare at me instead of walking with them.

“Um... Michael... I thought you were hungry.”

Silence. He steps a little closer to me.

“O-oh... Oh, you're following me...?”

A subtle nod is all it took for my body to completely relax at the realization that he liked me— or at least a whole lot more than his last nurse. I start slowly walking down the hall, looking over my shoulder to see Michael’s shaggy form following me like a big, dangerous shadow. His weight made his steps echo and his long legs made his stride much longer putting him surprisingly close behind. My eyes flickered back to him often, making sure he wasn't gonna get randomly violent as I tried to stay calm, knowing his eyes were on me the whole way behind that mask. Every step felt like he was getting closer.

Eventually, I arrive at a big cafeteria room, with many other patients eating their food at the tables before the guards take over my leadership role and guide Michael to the corner of the cafeteria to a secluded, metal room. They open the doors and Michael enters silently before sitting his imposing figure down at the table, huge legs spread wide for comfort as he settles in front of the food.

But he doesn’t make a move to eat it. He just continued to stare at me through the reinforced plastic of the window on the door, watching me, his eyes through the mask never wavering. I think he likes me more than I thought.

#spooky month #spooky season #black reader #black writers #x black reader #x black fem reader #black fem reader #micheal myers #michael myers #halloween is coming #slashers x reader #slashers x y/n #rz myers x reader #rz michael myers #rz halloween #halloween #rz michael myers x reader #october

376 notes · View notes

hysteria-things · 10 months ago

Note

OMG OMG I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA !!

So like what if the reader is one of the ghosts that lived in the hotel and they take an interest in matt(im convinced that all of the ghosts there were matt girls) and the ghost liked how he talks and they show themselves to him and like y'kkow y'knownsmut and thid and that

so like reader reveals ehat she looks like to him and they get all freaky

GHOST (part one)

read part two here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: matt runs into a girl at the driskill hotel. he can’t explain it, but he feels immediately attracted to her somehow.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, making out, p in v

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 943

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i changed it up a smidge!

for @skadltmf :)

the long-awaited sam and colby x sturniolo triplets collab is in full swing at the driskill hotel in austin, texas.

the five of them were in the vault for a while and then walked around, but now they’re on a break from filming for an hour or two because they wanted to get something to eat.

“shit, i’m so sorry!” you apologize when you run into a boy who’s throwing something out.

he smiles down at you, shaking his head. “it’s all good.”

matt furrows his eyebrows when he sees you. he can’t explain it, but it feels like he’s being pushed toward you somehow. like a gravitational pull, despite never seeing you before.

“what’re you doing at the haunted driskill hotel?” you ask, wanting to spark up a conversation. you must admit, he’s a cutie, and you love the way he talks.

he crosses his arms. “i should ask you the same thing.”

you sigh. “touché. i’ve heard a lot about this place and wanted to see it with my own eyes. research, if you will.”

“ah.” he nods, still smiling. “i’m a youtuber. doing a collab right now.” he points behind him where the others are.

matt’s still freaked out. he’s just so attracted to you. there’s something about your presence that has him not wanting to leave your side.

he feels sympathetic to you. he feels like he wants to keep you safe at all times. he’s never one to start talking to a stranger, but for some reason, he has no problem mingling with you.

“what’s your name?”

“y/n l/n.” you bite your lip, caressing his shoulder flirtatiously. “you’re handsome, you know that?”

bold. he thinks.

“i-i’m matt.” he stammers, cheeks flushing at each movement you make.

your hand trails up to his hair right above his ear, and you play with it while looking deep into his eyes. he leans into your hand. “there’s a janitor’s closet over there.” you tilt your head. “will i see you in there?”

you wink, walking off in the opposite direction. he glances at you and then the group, taking out his phone to text chris.

i forgot something in the room, i’ll be back in a few.

waiting patiently in the small closet, the door opens minutes later. you smile widely, admiring the boy in front of you.

“for some reason, i need to kiss you.” he says abruptly out of breath. “can i kiss you?”

you exhale, snaking your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss that soon turns into a make-out.

his hands roam your body, lastly going to your pants before he pulls away. “um… is this okay?”

“more than okay,” you say, pulling him in so his lips are on yours again.

matt pulls down your pants, lips still intact as he lifts you.

he removes his pants as well, pushing your panties to the side. you both know there’s not much time, so you guys must be quick.

pecking your shoulder, you moan when he slowly fills you.

his thrusts start soft, but he notices your discomfort. he can’t tell if it’s because you’re trying to adjust or if you’re not enjoying it. “you okay?”

your face turns red from embarrassment. “i haven’t done this in a really long time, and um… it’s hard for me to feel pleasurable unless you rub my… y’know.”

“you mean like this?” he smirks, thrusting faster and deeper while his thumb rubs circles on your clit.

you throw your head back and nod. “mhm! fuck.”

whenever he thrusts in, he applies more pressure with his finger and it sends you into a state of bliss. “you f-feel so good, matt.” you whine, squirming in his grip.

it makes it hard for him to move by how tight you’re squeezing around him, but you’re close.

he grunts, closing his eyes to take it all in. in his opinion, this is the best he’s ever had. he wants to keep in mind that he doesn’t even know you, but you’re so much different.

“i’m gonna cum.” you whisper, jolting slightly when he rubs your clit harder.

“cum all over me, baby,” he replies, making sure you cum first.

your release oozes around his dick, and that’s his queue to pull out to finish on your stomach.

the two of you stay there, engulfing each other to catch your breath. “how come i feel so connected to you somehow?” he says lowly, resting his forehead on yours.

you shrug. “you’ll find out soon.”

he’s a little confused by what you mean but doesn’t ask about it. instead, he holds you close until his cellphone ringing disrupts you.

sam, colby, and the triplets walk down a hallway, passing some portraits of the ghosts along the way. you had to take your separate ways when nick called matt complaining that he was taking too long.

“isn’t that the freaky one?” colby asks smugly, pointing to a specific picture.

“that is the freaky one!” sam exclaims, the triplets giggling along with them.

“who’s the freaky one?” chris asks, squinting to get a better look.

“she was nineteen when she died.” colby starts. “she was known to seduce men with her ‘looks of manipulation’, some might say.”

matt scoots in front of the group to have a look, and he could’ve sworn his blood ran cold. a girl is pictured sitting on a stool with a gorgeous smile and old victorian clothes.

the girl in question is you, and he has to blink multiple times to make sure he’s seeing right.

the gold plaque underneath confirms who he’s looking at:

y/n l/n.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @saturncanyon @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

974 notes · View notes

riordanness · 6 months ago

Text

false god — [p.jackson]

pairing: percy jackson x reader

wordcount: 1.3K

warnings: you have a creepy stalker

I run through the shopping centre, dodging stalls and seats and weaving through people. My breath is a little too shallow, my heart rate a little too quick. I’m panicking.

Suddenly, I spot a boy with scruffy dark hair and a simple outfit of a blue hoodie and jeans. He’s outside the bookstore, with what looks like a Greek mythology book in his hands.

I’m not necessarily the best at judging people’s character, but he seems… moderately safe. Definitely safer than what’s chasing me.

I dash up to the boy, grab his arm to get his attention.

“Hi,” I gasp out, breathless. “Um—“

He looks confused, sea-green eyes flickering at me in question.

“Can you pretend to be my boyfriend for a sec?” I ask quickly.

The boy looks (somehow) even more confused now. “Can I… what now?”

“Please?” I add desperately. “There’s this creep following me around the mall, and—“

The boy doesn’t wait to hear more. He grabs my hand confidently and laces his fingers through mine. He seems to notice that my hand is shaking and gives me a reassuring squeeze.

“So, sweetheart,” he says, a little too loudly, pulling me deeper into the little bookstore. “What do you think of this Greek mythology book I was thinking of buying?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the creep approaching us, getting closer and closer.

“Oh, yes,” I say to the boy, and I realise I don’t even know his name. “I love this one. I had it when I was little. It’s great.”

“It’s not very accurate,” the boy mutters, his sea green eyes flitting over the story about Kronos and Zeus.

“Huh?” I forget what’s happening for a second and laugh. “How do you know it’s not accurate? What—you know them personally?”

The boy doesn’t reply, so I drop the subject.

“So um,” I lower my voice. “Thank you for doing this by the way.”

“Of course.”

“I’m Y/n.” My voice is still quiet.

“Percy. Percy Jackson.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Percy Percy Jackson,” I say playfully.

Percy rolls his eyes at me, but he’s got a stupid grin on his face. “Ha, ha,” he says, sliding the Greek Mythology book back on the shelf. “So, do you think he’s gone?”

I shrug. He’s definitely not inside this small bookstore; I would’ve seen him. But he might still be outside.

“Are you here alone?” Percy asks.

I nod. “Yeah. That’s why I—you know.”

“Yeah,” he says, his grip on my hand tightening a little, like a protective gesture. It somehow makes my heart flutter a little in my chest.

“Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you.” Percy glances down at me, then starts to talk normally again. “You hungry?”

I smile. “Actually, yeah, a little.”

“Alright.” He pulls me along, our hands still entangled. Percy leads me to a pretty little cafe, all decorated in mint green. He pulls a chair out for me, and I sit. Once Percy has slid into the seat opposite, he flashes me a smile.

“You see him anywhere?”

I glance behind me, and then shake my head. “Maybe he’s gone.”

“We’ll see.” Percy slides a menu over to me. “Whatcha want? I’ll go order.”

“Um, just a hot chocolate, and one of those cookies with the Smarties in them.” I dig around in my pocket, pulling out a ten-dollar note.

When I try to hand it to Percy, though, he gives me a look. “Dude,” he says.

“What?” I ask, surprised.

“You think I’m seriously gonna let you pay? Dumbass.” He closes my fingers back over the money. “You’re my fake girlfriend. I’m paying.”

Before I can argue, or even comprehend what he just said, he’s out of his chair and heading to the counter to order.

When he comes back, he has a little, cheeky smile on his face.

I give him a look. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

Percy shrugs. “I wanted to. Don’t argue.”

I roll my eyes. “Okay. Thank you.”

“No problem.” He smiles. “So. Tell me about my fake girlfriend.”

I laugh softly. “She’s kind of boring, honestly. She likes to read, do crafts sometimes. Spends way too much time on her phone. Apparently attracts creeps.”

“She sounds pretty cool to me,” Percy says, a grin on his face again.

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“So, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course.” My finger traces over the cracks in the wooden tabletop.

“What made you pick me?”

I glance up, his question surprising me. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, for the fake boyfriend thing.” Percy is a little flushed, clearly embarrassed by what he’s asking me. “There are tons of boys around, and heck, girls too, I don’t know what you’re into. What made you choose me?”

“Oh.” Now I’m a little flushed. “Well, honestly? You looked safe.”

That answer seems to surprise him in the best kind of way a person can be surprised. A shy smile grows on his face, and his sea green eyes get even prettier as they shine at me. “Really?” he asks. “I looked… safe?”

“Yeah.” I shrug one shoulder. “I don’t know how to explain it, really.”

Percy’s smile gets even wider. “You know, that’s pretty much the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Oh.” I’m surprised. “Well, I’m glad. It’s the truth. And you seem to be holding up that assumption so far.”

“I still seem safe?”

“Mhm.” I nod my head.

Just then, the waitress brings our order over. She places a steaming mug of hot chocolate and a Smartie cookie in front of me, and the same in front of Percy. Once we thank her and she walks away, I grin at Percy.

“You copied my order.”

“It sounded good.” He shrugs. “Besides, can’t drink coffee.”

“Why not?” I tilt my head at him slightly.

He waves his hand in the air. “I’ve got ADHD, it like, puts me to sleep or whatever. Makes me super tired.”

I smile. “Hey, that’s the exact same for me. I literally have to drink coffee before bed.”

Percy laughs. “Cool. I thought I was the only one.”

I smile, breaking off a piece of the cookie and popping it in my mouth. “I hope I didn’t ruin any of your plans when I pulled you into this, by the way?”

He raises an eyebrow, a marshmallow in his mouth. “Huh? Plans?”

I shrug. “Like, I dunno. Were you shopping with someone? Meeting up with your girlfriend?”

Percy laughs, and almost chokes on his marshmallow. “Gods, no. I was shopping alone. I don’t have a girlfriend.” He then seems to recover his wits and adds, with a cheeky smile: “Except you, of course.”

I roll my eyes playfully. “Yeah, okay. That’s good. I worried for a second there I messed up your shopping or something.”

“Not at all,” Percy assures me. “And hey, after we finish eating, I’ll give you a lift home, just to be completely safe.”

“Thank you, Percy, I really appreciate it.”

“Course, sweetheart,” he says easily, popping another marshmallow in his mouth.

“Hey!” I protest. “That was my one!”

“My bad,” he says, his voice muffled and his mouth still full.

I want to roll my eyes, but I just kind of smile.

“This is kind of fun,” Percy says. “Too bad it’s fake.”

I give him a slightly confused look. “What?”

“This.” He gestures between the two of us. “Kind wish you weren’t my fake girlfriend.”

I blink. “You—huh?”

“Gods, how obvious do I have to be?” Percy teases. “Y/n, will you go on a real date with me sometime?”

I flush, then smile. “I’d love to.”

#percy jackson #pjo #fanfiction #percy jackson and the olympians #walker scobell #fanfic #perseus jackson #book percy #book percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x me #pjo fanfic #percy jackson fanfic #perseus jackson fanfic

438 notes · View notes

just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 1 year ago

Text

I wanna dance with somebody

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 22

Prompt: Sports

Rated: T

CW: some vague mentions of Eddie’s boner

Tags: No UD AU; Meet cute; Good neighbor Eddie Munson; Dancer Steve Harrington

Notes: @thefreakandthehair, @sourw0lfs, @devondespresso - SPORTS! GO, SPORTS!!!

Wanna see dancer!Steve stretch (and Eddie have a horny meltdown)? Check out the artwork done by @house-of-the-moving-image!!

It’s still half dark and freezing outside as Eddie parks the van in front of the dancing school.

“Shit, we’re running late,” Max curses and bends down to straighten her neon-colored leg warmers for the twentieth time. “Just because you couldn’t find your stupid car keys.”

“That all you gotta say?” Eddie huffs, but all it gets him is that bewildered brow quirk she always does when he’s being dumb. “How about Sorry for waking you at ass o’clock, Eddie? Thank you for driving me, Eddie? You’re the best neighbor in the world, Eddie?”

She scoffs at him. “Ew, are you always that desperate for validation? Pathetic.”

Eddie gawks after her as she opens the passenger door and gets out to retrieve her duffel from the backseat. That little gremlin! He should’ve closed the door in her face, left her standing out in the snow.

Except, it all rang a little too close to home. The way she huddled on his porch, arms wrapped around her too-thin jacket, face set in a disappointed scowl. The way she barked at him to drive her to dance class because her mom had been home late and wouldn’t wake up. He knows she’s been taking odd jobs around the trailer park to pay for the classes, knows it's the one thing during the week she looks forward to. Also knows that her mom is too out of it to care half of the time. Knows how that feels.

There’s no way he could’ve denied her.

The problem is, she’s perfectly aware of that.

“You coming?”

She’s eyeing him expectantly through the open back door of the van. Eddie waves her off, fumbles for his cigarettes in his pocket. Realizes he forgot them. Shit.

“‘s okay, I’ll just wait out here in the car.”

She rolls her eyes so hard her entire head sways with the motion. “Don’t be a moron, they have heating and a lounge inside. C’mon.”

The inside of the dancing school is basically just one long hall with a floor-to-ceiling mirror front at one end. There’s a counter in one corner and two mismatched sofas with a pile of old magazines opposite that. Max makes a dash for the gaggle of girls doing warm-ups on the dance floor, even though there’s no instructor in sight yet.

“Oh hey, can I help you?”

Eddie blinks. A guy has just materialized behind the counter - though the truth probably is that he was crouched out of sight to retrieve the boombox in his hands. He puts it on the countertop, cocks his head at Eddie, which makes a few strands of floofy chestnut hair fall in front of his wireframe glasses, and oh fuck, he’s cute!

“Adult classes don’t start until noon, but-”

Eddie barks a laugh and saunters closer.

“Yeah, no. I’m just here to drop off little Red.”

He jerks his head at the dance floor. Cutie follows the movement and his face breaks into a smile so full of genuine delight, Eddie wants to cuddle him. Or maybe bite him. Maybe both.

“Oh, Max,” says Cutie. “You her brother?”

Eddie snorts. “Nah, just a neighbor. Her mom was … indisposed.”

“Huh,” Cutie says. Quirks an eyebrow. Somehow manages to put an entire unspoken verdict into that little noise and gesture. “She’s real talented, y’know?”

Eddie shuffles in his place, unsure about what to do with that information. “Um, yeah?”

Cutie nods, eyes darting over at Max, who’s dropping into a painful-looking split in front of the mirror, and shit, when did she learn that?

“Yeah. I think she’s got potential. Plus, she’s really come out of her shell these past few weeks. So thanks for driving her.”

“Oh, erm …” Eddie makes, pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to hide his incoming flush. “No problem, dude, not like I had-”

“Steve!” Max hollers, and they flinch apart. Eddie didn’t even notice how they’ve both drifted into each other’s space, Cutie’s elbows bracketed on the counter and himself just swaying ever-so-slightly closer. “You done flirting, or what? We should’ve started three minutes ago!”

Cutie - who’s name is Steve, apparently - takes off his glasses and winks at Eddie. Fucking winks at him. It goes ridiculously well with the pretty pink blush that’s blooming high in his cheekbones.

“Sorry,” he mutters, raising his arms over his head and bending at the hip, does a silly little stretch. “Duty calls.”

Then, he smoothes his hair out of his forehead and steps around the counter, pressing the Play button on the boombox.

“Okay, ladies, here we go! One song for warm-up, just move around the room however you like, feel the music.”

Some atrocious, boppy pop number starts to blare through the room, but Eddie hardly processes it. He’s too preoccupied by the sight in front of him.

Legs.

And an ass.

Legs and an ass in fucking tights. They hug Steve’s form like a second skin, bringing out every muscle, and Christ, there’s a lot to bring out! Guy looks like one of these ancient Greek marble statues - if marble statues wore fucking Tears for Fears shirts and could balance on their tippy toes and do leaps and spins in perfect sync with the music, all with flawless core tension and a seemingly effortless smile.

Eddie thinks he may need to step out. Take a breather. Throw himself crotch-first into the nearest snowdrift, maybe.

Instead, he takes two shaky steps backwards and collapses on top of the nearest sofa, grabs a random magazine from the pile and fans it open in his lap to hide his very unfortunate predicament.

It’s Good Housekeeping.

Steve spins by, catches his eye and winks again.

Eddie turns back to the magazine. Cool, fine, he always wanted to know about the ten best apple pie recipes to delight your loved ones with.

He does hope this magazine is sturdy, or he might just tear through it.

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #steddieholidaydrabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

1K notes · View notes

jjkilll · 6 months ago

Text

the one where your cat has jk’s tounge

- pairing I bestfriend jk x y/n

- warning I smut, oral (f receiving)

- song I cat got my tongue - trey songz

- wc | 2.1K (this was way longer than i intended... whoops)

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

“i know you probably don’t want to hear this but that time i slept with jungkook-“ you screamed covering your ears. “nope nope. i don’t wanna hear it your right.” you scream at your friend maya.

“i’m just saying he gives amazing head, like if he wasn’t so non-committal i would have snatched him up by now,” she says. you slap her shoulder “come on you know he’s hot. i don’t know how you two haven’t fucked yet. i mean i wouldn’t be able to last ten minutes around him with his shirt off.” you roll your eyes, “he rarely has on a shirt and he’s never seen me that way.” you say.

“but you’ve seen him that way?” she asks. “no.” you lie. “oh shut up tell me now.”

“no it’s not even like that, he just- i heard him one time. he thought i wasn’t home and he was- he was umm-“ you trail off thinking of if you should even say what you’re thinking.

“um um- come on spit it out.” she urges

“he was jerking off, and he’s just so whiny. that shit sounds so hot but then once i remember that was him… he’s my best friend.” you explain.

“but he was like begging, i swear it was the hottest thing i ever heard.” you chuckle. “once he saw me he was like super embarrassed and asked if i heard him. i lied of course told him i had just got in.” maya whoops, “you have to fuck him. i just saying that woman to woman. that man can fuck.” you groan.

a text from him pops up on your phone

[j-kay] hey wanna watch a movie when you get back? my date got canceled.

“aww his date got cancelled,” you tell maya.

“poor girl just missed the best dick of her life.”

“enough about jungkook’s dick, maya.” she shrugged. “well i gotta go, he wants to watch a movie.”

“leaving me for a man. i thought we were friends…” maya dramatically sighs. “hush it’s just jungkook.”

“correction! big dick jungkook.”

“maya!!” you scream.

“okay okay, im sorry that’s it.”

“it’s not. i know you,” you say rolling your eyes.

“you know me so well.” she replies

“whatever see you later.” you say leaving the cafe

——

“hey your back!” jungkook says, of course, he’s shirtless.

“you didn’t text. i thought something was wrong,” he said watching you get settled in.

“no, nothing wrong,” you say trying to convince yourself.

“what’s wrong?” jungkook asks quickly.

“i just said nothing's wrong.” you both say in unison. somehow he already knew what you were going to say. “am i seriously that predictable?” you ask staring at him. “no, you just can’t lie to me.”

“nothing happened i went out with maya.”

“maya? like the maya i-“

“okay you slept together, i get it.”

“oh! you were talking about me.” he realized.

“whatever just let it go.” you say not even wanting acknowledge his realization.

“what did she say about me?” he asks following you to your room. “nothing.”

“she said something or you wouldn’t be acting so weird.” jungkook says. “she said i had a small dick didn’t she?” he groans. “no, stop asking.”

“you know i do the opposite oh whatever you tell me right?” he says with a chuckle.

“just tell me. whatever it is isn’t that serious i promise.” he explains.

“no.” you protest against.

“seagreen.” he says simply.

seagreen is a code word for you and jungkook, once one of you says it whatever the other has to reveal will come with no consequences. no one gets upset, you just listen and try to understand. you both get two each year. this was jungkook’s first of the year.

“no.” you say simply, you look at him in disbelief. “i don’t want to say it jungkook.”

“you can’t say no, i said seagreen. tell me.” he pushes. “i’m sure whatever she said wasn’t even that serious.”

“she said you give good head.” you crack under pressure. he looks at you with wide eyes before he laughs. he falls onto the floor laughing. “jungkook.” you call as he laughs louder.

“that’s what’s got you all upset. i give good head?” he laughs again.

“and you have a big dick,” you say and he starts screaming with laughter.

“i thought- i thought she told you some stupid shit. mean while it’s just that i have a big dick.” he hold his stomach trying to calm his laughter.

“seriously is that why you’re so upset?” he asks.

“no.” you say realizing now your going to have to tell him what’s really wrong.

“so what is it?” he asks.

“i don’t want to tell you.”

“y/n seriously i’m done with the back and worth. tell me what’s wrong.”

“don’t make me beg.” he says. your body shutters. “i heard you.” you say simply exhaling. “you heard me what?”

you look at him in silence for a moment. “y/n.” he calls you.

“i heard you masturbating, and you were like…” you trail off. he stares at you. “you were like whimpering and begging.” the silence between you is thick. “i thought-“ you start.

“you thought what?” he asks tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, laser-focused on you.

“i thought is was kinda hot. no like really hot, and im a girl. there’s only so much i can really take. you are always shirtless, you like drip sex. you all any of my friends talk about is your huge dick.” you rant.

“so… you’re upset with me… because i have a big dick?”

“no, you treat me like a dude! i mean am i not hot? you don’t respect me as a woman. im sexy and hot, yet you don't ever fuck me.”

“i don’t respect you? i cancelled my date for you. i try not to punch any guys who get up in your face on some bullshit. you know how bad i want to fuck you? huh, but i hold back because i do in fact respect you. i respect the fact that you’ve never made a move on me. i respect the fact that you’ve never seemed interested in me. so i’m sorry i fucked maya and not you. you have to open your fucking mouth because closed mouths don’t get fed.” he’s angry now. his neck is on fire and he’s getting ready to explode.

“you want to fuck me?” you ask.

“oh course i do! i have for years. so do all of my friends! taehyung asked me last year to take you out and i was on the bench for a week because i choked him in the lockerroom.”

“i haven’t had a date in months because of you?” you push him. “fuck yea! nobody deserves you. all they wanna do it get in your pants.”

“you make me so fucking mad sometimes. if anything you don’t respect me. you strut around in those revealing ass outfits with your ass hanging out. don’t even hold back your moans when you’re masturbating, i hear you all the fucking time. you’re a fucking hypocrite. when we play just dance you don’t ever wear a bra. you’re tits just fucking bouncing. do you know how hard it is to care about flo rida when a hot girl’s tits are bouncing in your face?” you look at him and laugh.

“what’s so funny, y/n?” he asks finally cracking a smile at your laugh. “it’s not- not the situation but it’s just- holy shit it’s just the question itself is like funny as fuck. “do you know how hard it is the care about flo rida when a hot girl’s tits are bouncing in your face!” you scream laughing. “it founds fucking ridiculous!” he laughs along with you. “it does i know.” you too both laugh so hard you fall the floor.

“come here,” he says after your laughs settle. you shuffle over to him and hug him. “i do respect you. you are the most beautiful and smart woman i’ve ever met. i really do want you and not just sex. i wanna do everything with you,” he says rubbing your back.

“you really cancelled your date?” you ask with a pout.

“to kinda put into perspective how many dates i’ve cancelled, i’ve never got canceled on. all me. that’s why amber from the coffee shop hates me.”

“that explains why all my teas are gross,” you say frowning your face. he laughs brushing your hair behind your ear. you smile at him. “how did you guys even get on the topic of me giving head?” he asks. “well you remember the guy i was with?” he rolls his eyes. “yea that dumbass dylan.” he laugh. “he didn’t want to give me head but always wanted me to give him head. he’d tell me he didn’t feel like it or that he didn’t do that type of stuff. i was just asking maya how it felt and that’s when she told me how good you were.” he nodded but then stopped. “wait you’ve never gotten head before?” he asked shocked.

“never.”

“i mean we can still change that if you’re down.” he offers. “if im down?! maya says your head is life-changing, lay it on me.” you say opening your arms wide. “you’re such a freak.” he says laughing.

“lie back.” he says lifting up the little yellow sundress that covers you. your white lace panties on full display. jungkook rubs over your panties and you moan. “oh shit, you sound so pretty. whose whiny now?” he asks as you buck your hips up onto his hand. he uses his middle finger to slide your panties to the side. “oh you’re soaked.” he says taking his middle and index fingers and sliding them between your folds, he licks the slick of you off his fingers. “you taste so sweet.”

you groan. “come on you’re teasing.”

“patience, baby. just relax,” he says calmly bending over and kissing your lips. they were so soft and plump and you love the feeling of his lips on yours. he kisses you deeply this time, sliding his fingers into you. you moan giving him the chance to stick his other fingers in your mouth.

“shh the neighbors will complain.” he teases fucking you with his fingers you’re a moaning mess. “aww my little toy.” you use your hand trying to push his fingers away as you become more sensitive. “no you can take it. you haven’t even had my tongue yet.”

“you can take it can’t you?” you ask taking his fingers out of your mouth. you moan uncontrollably and he pulls out slapping your pussy. “come on answer my question, baby i’m talking to you. too fucked out to focus?” he continues rubbing circles on your clit. “yes- please please i need you- please just keep going.” you beg, squirming under him.

without warning his fingers plunged back into you fucking you quickly. “look how wet you are my god.” He groans eyes locked on your pussy and how pretty you look submitting to him. his hand wraps your throat. he curls his fingers and hits your g-spot repeatedly. “right there! oh my god! oh fuck! i’m gonna cum.” you scream grinding against his hand. right before you come undone jungkook takes his fingers out of you. you clench around nothing trying to catch your breath. “jungkook, what the fuck?!”

you sit up and he giggles. “lay back baby, i want that cum on my tongue.” you moan bucking your hips up at jungkook lays on his stomach in front of you. he blows cool air on your pussy and you whine. “please don’t tease me. please let me cum.”

“okay, okay im sorry baby.” he smiled before kissing your thigh. he licks a long stripe up your pussy before spitting and sucking on your clit.

your mouth forms an O as you have trouble breathing. you breathe in deeply before moaning. “oh my god! what the fuck? oh my god!” you whine sitting up on your elbows and watching him as he fucks you with his tongue rubbing your clit with his hand. you grip his long fluffy hair in your fist. “i’m-“ you babble something unintelligible. “uh-huh” jungkook hums flicking your clit with his tongue as you cum all over his tongue and mouth.

you weakly fall back onto the floor, your thighs shaking as he continues to slurp you up, licking you clean. “you taste so good.” he says with a smile lying beside you.

you look at him, your eyes half wide. “you can only eat my pussy forever.” you whisper to him and he lets out a big laugh. “i’m serious.” you laugh with him. “you’ve like ruined me for anyone else.” you say.

“oh, my dick’ll drive real you fuckin crazy then.”

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

#bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook jeon #bts #jungkook smut #bangtan jungkook #jeon jungkoooook #bts army #jeon jungkook #bangtan smut #bts fic #bangtan #bts fanfic #bts smut

423 notes · View notes

mrsbarnesblog · 1 year ago

Text

you deserve the world

masterlist ko-fi ao3

College! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You were in a relationship with a man who had never truly cared about you, but after catching him cheating on you at a friend's party, you eventually decided to end things with him. The good news was that there was always someone who wasn't going to let you go through it alone.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: toxic relationship, cheating, name calling, gaslighting, protective Bucky, feelings.

Author's note: college Bucky + some angst = my favorite combo. I already have a cute idea for the part 2 so stay tuned ☺️

“And what about you, ma'am?” The waitress asked, looking at you.

“Um–”

“She’ll get a salad and a glass of water, thank you.” John interrupted you, not allowing you to choose for yourself. Everyone at the table went quiet, looking at you, and you felt the heat spreading on your cheeks. There was nothing new in the fact that John always decided for you, but no one from your friend really knew about that.

You quickly nodded at the waitress with a polite smile and gave the menu back. When she left, you really hoped that this question wouldn't be discussed, but you were wrong.

“What the fuck? You said that you were hungry. Why do you even listen to him?” Natasha, who was sitting on the opposite side of the table with Bucky, Steve, and Wanda, angrily looked at you.

She was really protective over you, and she hated John. Natasha tried to convince you many times to break up with him, but every time you tried, he somehow managed to manipulate you to stay. And you hated yourself for being so weak.

“Natasha, please, don't start it.” You begged, feeling that John was losing his temper. “I'm not hungry, I'm—”

“She’s on a diet, right, baby?” His fake smile made you almost want to cry, but you just nodded. Nat and Wanda rolled their eyes, not for the first time hearing that from your shitty boyfriend. Steve and Sam looked mostly disappointed or even concerned, but Bucky… Bucky looked furious.

You weren't best friends. You hung out only when the team got together at the parties, and since John was extremely jealous, it had never been only the two of you. But you both felt something every time your eyes met or when you sat too close to each other. He always gave you that one-sided smile that made your knees weak and the plums of your hands sweaty. It seemed like John had always sensed that tension between you and did everything to ruin it, even fighting with Bucky a few times over it. Their enmity was unspoken, yet everyone on the team knew the real reason.

Bucky had a crush on you probably since the first day when you came to see the game, but no one on the team besides Steve, Sam, and Nat knew that. You had a boyfriend, so he had no place to ruin it. Well, that's what Bucky thought at first. But when you started spending more time with the team and he started seeing the real sides of your relationship, it made him want to just pull you out of there.

You were so kind, and cute, and beautiful, so Bucky had to put effort into not staring at you like a creep. Everyone on the team adored you because you were nothing but sweet to them. But the person who was supposed to be your biggest supporter actually slowly ruined you.

Bucky noticed the way your face dropped every time John ignored you and didn’t pay attention to your words. He was too busy chatting with someone on his phone or just casually didn't care and didn’t even try to hide it. Your eyes would flick between his face and the phone screen, and then you stopped talking and sat quietly, probably too deep in your thoughts.

It really broke Bucky’s heart that you were taken for granted and that you weren't with the man who would give you the whole world without you even asking. And right now, he felt just a hot rage in his veins at the thought that John didn't care about your feelings; he was making decisions for you and convincing you that you needed to be skinnier.

“Did you decide that?” Your eyes shot at Bucky, who was looking like he was about to punch somebody. His brows were slightly furrowed, his jaw tensed, and there was not a single hint of the playfulness that he always had.

“I know what's better for her, Barnes. She’s not yours, isn’t she?” He winked at Bucky and threw a hand over your shoulder, carelessly dragging you closer. You squeaked at the sudden movement and tried to push your boyfriend away, mumbling a quiet “stop”.

“Oh, believe me, if she were mine, she wouldn’t try to push me away like that, Walker.” Bucky looked directly at you, making the weird feeling blossom in your stomach. The things that you were feeling for Bucky were wrong; you knew that. You had a boyfriend, and thinking about another man was basically cheating.

But how could you not?

He looked at you at every opportunity—you saw it even if you didn’t show it. Bucky was a charming man, a gentleman, with a beautiful face and a kind heart. Even though you weren’t so close, you were able to collect pieces of information from other guys, and you wanted to know him so badly, but it seemed like John felt something weird and forbade you to talk to him.

Your heart told you otherwise, though. You felt a reaction in your body every time Bucky smiled or laughed, even not with you, when you accidentally touched his hand a few times, and when you caught his baby blue eyes in the room.

It was never like that with John. John has been your first and only everything since high school, and after some time, it felt more like a routine to be together. He didn’t want to let you go, even though you suspected that he was cheating. You couldn’t say whether you loved him or not, but his usual coldness, carelessness, and annoyance when you were around made you think that you were the problem.

You were not ready to admit that you often lay in bed before going to sleep, thinking about how your life would be if you dated Bucky.

There was more tension between John and Bucky than usual after that night. They even got into another fight in the field over nothing, and you couldn’t help but think that it was partly your fault.

On Friday evening, there was a party at Bucky’s and Steve’s house. John was against you going there, and you got into another big argument over it, so he said that was not going to drive you there, and it was your own responsibility. Not that he usually gave you a ride somewhere; even on the rare occasions that were supposed to be a date, he went there in his car while you had to take a bus or a taxi.

He will apologize later for everything he said to you, but he will still repeat it a few days later. Those emotional swings honestly drained you; you were sick of his behavior and disrespectful words and of the way he was treating you. But you still stayed for reasons that even you couldn’t name.

Natasha, your usual lifesaver, picked you up despite your refusal, and after almost thirty minutes of driving, you pulled near the house with the loud music and a lot of people everywhere.

Holding Natasha’s hand, you walked through the bunch of people dancing and drinking into the room where your group usually sits. Two large sofa’s and a few armchairs were filled with boys from the team, Wanda and Yelena; the coffee table in between them was almost breaking from the weight of the alcohol bottles.

“Look who I got here.” Natasha slightly pushed you further into the room, and you followed her, still holding her hand, smiling and saying “hey” to everyone in the room. You definitely didn’t miss the way Bucky checked out your figure in a soft green dress.

He was sitting next to Steve, holding a bottle of bear in his hand, and he was looking awfully attractive in the simple jeans and t-shirt. He also had that boyish smile, which made you feel weird.

You were stuck on the coach between Natasha and Thor, who was laughing so hard that your entire body moved with him. Sam gave you a red cup with your favorite drink in it, and you sat comfortably laughing at the jokes with the group.

Even at parties, “Avengers” liked to hang out together, and with loud music and a lot of strangers in the house, it was fun and relaxing. People from your little circle came and went; some of them wanted to dance, some wanted to find a girl for the night, and when there were only your closest friends left, you remembered about John. It's already been half an hour since you came here, but you haven’t seen him.

“Did you see John? He said that he'd be there.”

“I saw him once, he should be somewhere here. Do you want me to find him?” Always cute and ready-to-help Thor looked at you with his kind puppy eyes and smiled.

“No, thanks, Thor. I’m just curious.” You waved your hand at him and soon forgot about your boyfriend, too interested in another playful argument between Sam and Bucky.

After another ten minutes, when your drinks finally started working, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom on the second floor. The boys didn’t let anyone besides your group go on the second floor, so as it seemed at first, the corridor was empty. You did what you needed to in the bathroom, and when you almost went down the stairs back to your friends, a weird noise caught your attention.

You went in another direction, and around the corner, you saw something that you definitely didn’t expect. John was almost eating another girl’s face. Her legs were wrapped around his naked body, and his t-shirt was carelessly thrown on the floor. Your sudden gasp probably gave you away, because John immediately stopped and looked at you.

Bucky had just finished another bottle of beer when strange noises came from the second floor, and you almost ran down the stairs in tears with John chasing after you.

“Y/N, please, wait! That’s not what you think! I can explain!” John was struggling to fasten the belt on his pants and was half naked. The tall blond girl walked down the stairs, looked at you with a grin, and disappeared into the crowd. And then it hit Bucky. He cheated on you.

That motherfucker cheated on you.

Guys stood from their places, as if the same thought came to all of them at the same time. John grabbed your hand, not allowing you to leave the room. You tried to get away, but he brought your shaking form closer and looked almost as if he were truly sorry.

“C’mon, you know that I love you. It was just sex. Please, honey. Don’t be mad.” He spoke too softly. It was obviously so fake, and it made you want to vomit. You looked at John through tears. You tried to stop them, but they were just streaming down your face. The painful wound in your chest felt like you were suffocating.

You were breathing heavily, trying to control yourself and not make a scene. God, everyone could see you. Your closest friends were watching your interaction, which was so fucking humiliating that you wanted to flee right then and there.

Steve and Sam both held Bucky by his hands so he wouldn't interfere. You had to end it on your own, but Bucky was in such rage that he could’ve probably killed John.

“D-don’t touch me, please. I don’t want– I don’t want it, I’m sick of you, of this. I-I’m done.” You stuttered, pushing him away from you, but John refused to let you go.

“Don’t you understand that you need me?!” As always, his behavior changed in a blink of an eye, and now, again, you were responsible for his actions. “It’s your fault. It wouldn’t have happened if you had given me what I needed… And can you stop fucking crying and put on a performance for everyone?" You shook your head to not let his words settle in, but you were already too hurt and broken to fight or stand up for yourself. Now you were blamed for your boyfriend’s cheating, and once again, he reminded you that your emotions were wrong.

The whole team looked at how your posture changed, you made yourself seem smaller, and your head was low with eyes glued to the floor in shame. Everyone was ready to step in, but Natasha was already ahead of everyone.

“I knew that I had to chop off your dick many years ago. You’re just using and manipulating her into thinking that she is the one to blame, while you are the piece of shit responsible for it.” Using the fact that Nat caught John’s attention, you ran past him back on the second floor, locking yourself in the bathroom.

As soon as you ran away, it became messy, with screams and almost a fight between Bucky and John. Sam and Steve weren’t able to hold him anymore. He was so pissed, ready to wipe off this asshole’s smirk for the way he talked to you.

Bucky was able to throw a punch before his teammates dragged him away and held John by his hands too.

“You’re trying too hard to get into her pants, Barnes. She’s not worth it.” John laughed, and Bucky tried to escape again, only to be stopped by Natasha, who got sick of this childish behavior.

“James, go find her." She started throwing orders. “Boys, get the trash out of the house.” Her perfect red nail pointed at John behind her back. “And you, go fuck yourself. You’re not getting near her ever again, I promise you this.”

“Are you sure?” Bucky furrowed, not sure how you would react to his company.

“Yes. You know that you can help her. We both know that.” She licked her lips, stepping closer to Bucky. “But if you ever hurt her, I swear to God, it’ll be your last day on earth, Barnes.”

You quietly slid down the wall, covering your mouth with your hand to muffle any sounds. Your heart was ripping apart, and you felt like you were going to faint. So stupid, so fucking stupid. The tears were rolling down your cheeks nonstop, and you just curled into yourself, crying and suffocating. It was probably your own fault that you hadn’t noticed everything earlier; it was obvious. John didn’t love you and didn’t care about you; he saw you as a possession and it made you sick thinking about every time he humiliated you.

It could be only a few minutes or a whole hour when you hear a soft nock on the door. Your whole body froze, waiting until the person went away.

“Doll, it’s me.” Bucky. You felt the relief washing over your body, but you still refused to answer him or make any sound. “Doll, please, open the door. I know that you’re here. I just want to help you.” His calming and deep voice brought another wave of tears to your eyes. Bucky was always so gentle with you and it felt weird—you weren’t used to that treatment, especially from a man.

You stayed quiet. Bucky tried to turn the handle on the door again, but it was closed, and you heard the muffled sound of his forehead touching the door.

“Please, at least say something. Talk to me, Y/N. I need to know that you’re okay.”

“Leave, Bucky.” You said between not stopping sobs. “I’ve already embarrassed myself enough.”

Bucky's heart sank to his stomach from your words and the way you were crying there over the man who didn’t deserve a single drop of your tears. “Don’t say this, doll. The only person who embarrassed himself was Walker. You have nothing to be ashamed of, I promise. Just open the door, sweetheart.” You couldn’t resist anymore. And even though you hated the thought that Bucky would see you looking like this, you reached for the lock and opened it.

He took a deep breath before stepping in and softly closing the door behind him. You looked so small, sitting on the floor in a ball, with your face hidden behind your hands and hair. Bucky kneeled in front of you, gently placing his hands on your wrists and pulling your hands away. He shook his head when you were avoiding his eyes and trying to stop crying, when your whole body was almost shivering with emotions and pain.

Your eyes, cheeks, and nose were red, your face was wet with tears, and your mascara was slightly smudged.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He mumbled before stroking your hair with his left hand. Bucky’s movements were so slow and careful, as if he were trying not to scare you. “C’mere. And you shouldn't be sitting on the cold floor; you might get sick. ” Bucky himself sat on the floor near you before his other hand slipped under your legs and lifted you sideways onto his lap.

When you felt two strong arms wrap around you, your body dissolved into his. Your face perfectly fit into the crook of Bucky’s neck, and you sobbed out loud.

“Sh-h, that’s okay. You can cry if you want to, doll. Don’t hold it back. I’ve got you.” You shook your head, gripping his shirt in your fists. You tried to control yourself, but the way Bucky tried to calm you down and was so sweet made you even more emotional.

You were crying, hidden between his neck and shoulder, while Bucky rocked you like a baby and kissed your head. His hands never left your body, creating a safe space and grounding you.

“I’m so stupid. I’m so fucking stupid. It’s my fault that it happened. I should’ve left a long time ago. I don't—I don’t know how it got so bad.” Your voice was weak and you couldn’t stop crying as the images from the night flushed through your mind. “I’m sorry for ruining your night, Bucky.”

“No. Don’t ever apologize for things like this, doll. None of this was your fault, you hear me?” Bucky took a deep breath as the rage began to form in him towards the coward who made you so unsure of yourself. "You are the sweetest person I have ever met, and I swear everyone on the team adores you. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way, and I'm so sorry that it happened to you. But you should know that we’re all on your side. If you let us, we’ll make sure that John won’t bother you again, sweetheart.”

“You’re so sweet.” You smiled through tears, gripping his shirt harder.

“Because that’s what you deserve. I won’t ever let anyone hurt you.” He mumbled into your hair, but it didn’t respond. Now that John didn’t control you anymore, you just didn’t know what to say or how to feel about the warmth that Bucky’s presence and words had given you.

Bucky sat there with you, probably for another ten minutes, while you were calming down and your tears were slowly ending. After your crying session, you just felt exhausted; your body was aching and your eyes felt so heavy that you almost felt asleep on Bucky’s firm chest.

“Hey, doll, don’t fall asleep here.” He slightly pulled you away when he felt that your breath started slowing down, ready for sleep. Bucky held your face with his right hand and gently tried to wipe your mascara. “You’ll stay in my room, okay? I won’t let you drive home in a taxi like that, and everyone else here is drunk. But first, we should take off your makeup.

“What? No, I won't sleep in your room, it’s your place.” The cutest little frown appeared on your face and Bucky bit his lip to not make a comment about that. He helped you get up, still having a firm hand on your lower back, and walked you to the sink. “Oh my god, I look horrifying.”

“Actually, you’re really cute. But we should take off your makeup. You can’t sleep like that and your eyes will hurt in the morning.” Bucky stepped to the side and opened the drawer. “Here is everything Nat has. Is there anything to wash your face with?” He curiously examined the bottles, reading the labels and frowning at the unknown words.

You couldn’t hold back a small laugh at the confusion on his face and reached to take the right one, squeezing some product on your hand. Bucky had a small smile on his face, noticing that he was able to make you forget about John, at least for a few minutes. “Can I help you?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” Not breaking eye contact, Bucky took a new clean towel, wetted it, and gently placed his left hand on your neck while the right one wiped your makeup off.

You froze at your place, studying Bucky’s face. He was so concentrated on his task that he probably didn’t even notice you staring. Your heart was beating too fast, and your skin was burning under his touch. You craved him, only now understanding how much your body and soul needed him.

“You look so pretty without makeup.” Bucky smiled at you, and you couldn’t hold your own smile from forming on your lips. “Wait a second.” He stormed out of the room and returned in less than a minute with one of his t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. “You can wear it. Now finish here, change your clothes, and you can go to sleep, okay?” As soon as Bucky got a nod from you, he smiled, placed a light kiss on your forehead, and left you alone in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror with a smile on your face and butterflies in your stomach.

Bucky’s clothes smelled amazing, just like he always did. You spend a good minute with your face buried in the t-shirt that he gave you before finally putting it on. You looked at yourself in a mirror, feeling relieved and kind of happy for the first time in a while, until your phone on the counter buzzed with messages and you saw that someone texted you several times.

Your heart sank in your stomach when you unlocked the phone, and your eyes started quickly reading the messages from John.

Where the fuck are you?

Come back now, or you’ll regret it, Y/N.

I saw how Barnes run after you

Are you fucking with him?

I knew that you were just a whore

Can’t even keep your legs close, can you?

He’ll just use you, that’s everything you're good for anyway

Always played hard to get with me, but you’re just like any other bitch

Are you going to answer me?

You’re really pissing me off right now

“Doll?” After sending Nat a message that you were okay and that you were going to sleep in his room, Bucky knocked on the door because you were too silent there, but you didn’t answer him. “Is everything okay? Can I come in?” He leaned closer to the door and still heard nothing.

Bucky slightly pushed the door, and the first thing that he saw was you in his clothes. He almost made a comment, until his eyes shifted to your wet, teary face. Your hand with the phone in it was slightly shaking, while your gaze was glued to the screen. You didn’t even notice Bucky’s presence until he stepped closer to you and forced you to look at him with a hand on your face.

“Hey-hey-hey, what happened, sweetheart? I left you a few minutes ago, and everything was fine. What’s going on?” The concern in his voice made you want to cry even harder. You hesitated for a few seconds, wondering whether you should show Bucky the text messages. What if he thinks the same? What if John’s right, and that’s everything Bucky wanted from you too?

But the way he was looking at you, so genuinely worried, wiping your tears once again, made you give up.

As soon as the phone was turned towards Bucky, you saw the instant change of emotions on his face. His brows furrowed, the blue eyes that were soft and caring before narrowed, and his jaw clenched. Bucky was filled with so much anger that he was ready to go after your ex and beat him up. Such a sweet and cute thing as you did not deserve to be treated this way or to hear such words directed at you. But Bucky knew that it was the wrong time to show his emotions; the last thing he wanted to do was scare you, so he just swallowed his anger, took the phone out of your hands, and put it in his pocket.

"Please don’t listen to him. Don’t listen to a single word he’s saying, Y/N.” Bucky pulled you into himself, and you once again melted under his touch. His firm chest and tight grip around your shivering body made you feel safe. “You’re the sweetest fucking person ever. You’re everything that any guy could ever dream about. You deserve the whole world to be gifted to you, doll. He knows that he lost the best girl and now wants to hurt your feelings and boost his own ego.” Bucky started stroking your hair while mumbling reassuring words into your ear. “I want you to be strong. I want you to see in yourself what I see in you. Promise me that you’ll try. And I promise that I’ll help you.” You nodded against Bucky’s chest, now too emotional about his words. “Now let’s get you to bed, that’s enough for today.”

Bucky led you to his room, which was dark with only one nightstand lamp on. You’ve been here several times at other parties, but you've never really had time to look around. It was so… Bucky? Dark and comfy, with random books laying here and there, two coffee mugs, and his uniform on the chair.

“Can you lay with me? At least until I fall asleep.” You whispered as you sat at the edge of the bed. How could he say no to you when you looked at him with those eyes?

You got under the blanket, already feeling like you were about to fall asleep. Eyes heavy, body exhausted from the stress and all of the tears you’d cried today. Bucky climbed near you, lifting one arm as a suggestion for you to hug him. And you didn’t waste a second. You got closer to him, perfectly fitting under his arm, and wrapped your own hand around his waist. Bucky hesitantly touched your fingers on his stomach with his free hand, but you just went in and interlaced them.

“Thank you for everything, Bucky.” You mumbled against his shoulder, barely keeping yourself awake. “I– I wish everything went differently. I like you, you know that? I always did. But now I don’t know what to do.” You nuzzled deeper into him, listening to his steady heartbeat.

“Well, then I am happy to even have a small chance. Everyone knows that I go crazy about you. But we’ll talk about it tomorrow, sweetheart. Now sleep, you had a long day.”

“Mhm… Just don’t leave me.”

“I won’t.” Bucky kissed your head, listening to you fall asleep. The only thing that he could think about was how he was going to make you his and shower you with all the love you deserved.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you

2K notes · View notes

disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago

Text

oscar's girl * ls2

logan never thought he would meet the girl that broke oscar’s heart

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k

notes: guys ive been writing this since 10pm girl it's mf 4am now please sue me i'm sorry this was a long wind up im sorry but dont worry i will be writing a part two HELL YEAHHHH

(logan's girl) // |(f1 masterlist)

oscar and logan, logan and oscar. that's how it's been since they had run into each other during a karting weekend in the uk a couple of years ago. oscar had approached him with a toothy grin and a packet of candy after seeing logan walk around by himself for weekends at a time.

maintaining the friendship isn't the easiest of feats: logan lives in south florida, while oscar lives on the opposite side of the globe in melbourne. they don't see each other for very long, and very often in a year. but, it always feels like no time has passed when they get together after months of separation.

but being apart for the majority of the year means the window they've got to keep an ongoing conversation is small. but their string of texts has always come in consistently every day, responses from the other flooding in the early hours of the morning and sometimes in the dead of the night.

that was, until, logan woke up one warm thursday morning to an empty and dry phone. he brushed it off, taking it that oscar just had a long day at school. perhaps too much had happened in the day to simply text at the end of the day. so he went to school as he usually did with his best friend in the back of his mind.

but one day turned into two, and suddenly he hadn't heard from oscar in almost a week.

logan had sent one follow-up text. a simple 'hey' to nudge oscar into a response. which did help, because him and oscar surprisingly texted for a short thirty-minute window before the australian called it quits on their conversation to get some sleep for the next school day.

until oscar goes radio silent again for the next three days. so, he goes to the one other person in oscar's life that he knows personally.

"hey mum," logan starts, walking into the kitchen hesitantly. he's been dancing around the idea of asking his mum for help to see if oscar's even still alive and has not been replaced by some clone that's somehow less chatty than the one he said goodbye to at the airport four months ago.

"yeah, baby?" his mother stands up from her prior hunched-over position at the fridge to smile at him. she opens her arms as he approaches her hesitantly, fiddling with his thumbs. "what's wrong?"

he hums, second-guessing his decision to bring his mother into the situation. perhaps oscar just no longer wants to be friends with him anymore? but if that were the case, oscar definitely would have said something to his face and he's just been quiet. "um, it's just oscar," he starts softly, dropping his gaze to his feet, "can you ask his mum if he's alright?"

"of course," she smiles, letting go of him. she walks around the kitchen counter to find her phone. "why, did something happen to him recently? break another wrist?"

logan shakes his head, pressing his lips together. "no, we haven't been talking as much as we used to. i'm just worried that something might have happened to him."

a blush creeps up his cheeks when his mother's lips pout as she tries to hide her smile. "aw, logan! that's very cute of you. and very thoughtful," she teases as she starts to type on her phone. "i'm texting his mum right now. you hang tight and i'll tell you when she gets up to text me, okay?"

"okay."

he tries not to linger around his mum's circle of personal space for very long, afraid to let on that he's more concerned than he should be for the status of his friendship. to combat the anxiety of potentially losing one of his best friends, he locks himself in his room and plays video games all afternoon.

he had been in the middle of a game in call of duty when his phone started to ring. he glances at from his position on his bed and perks up with oscar's picture taking over the screen of his phone.

he immediately pauses the game, tossing the controller to the side of his bed. he slides his finger across the screen to pick up the call and oscar, visibly tired, pops up on his screen with a small smile.

"hey! my mum just got off the phone with your mum," oscar whispers with a smile. "said you missed me, mate?"

"no, i was just concerned cause you've been off the grid for a while," logan scoffs with an eye roll. "i never said i missed you."

"well, i'm sorry for disappearing on you, mate," oscar drops his gaze and a small smile creeps up on his face. in the dim orange lighting of his bedroom in melbourne, logan can almost make out the redness coming through on oscar's cheeks. "there's a reason for that. it's not because i don't wanna be friends anymore. i've just been a little... preoccupied."

logan tilts his head. he rolls over to his stomach and holds the phone up to his face. "what do you mean? more preoccupied than usual?"

"yeah," oscar giggles. "i uh... i've got-" he clears his throat, the slight embarrassment getting the better of him. he lifts his eyes from his thighs and moves the phone slightly further away. "i got a girlfriend."

logan furrows his eyebrows, throwing his head back slightly in shock. "what?"

"yeah," oscar repeats with a hint of a giggle in his response. "i've been seeing her for a while. do you mind if i tell you about her a little bit?"

"really?" logan smiles, squinting an eye. truthfully, he's finding it a little bit hard to believe that oscar's suddenly got a girlfriend. they're literally always on the phone with one another, texting and updating one another on things that they've got no idea about in their day-to-day lives.

not once has oscar come up to him about a girl before, much less developing a crush on somebody. "this is a bit sudden, isn't it? like, where did this girl come from?"

"she's new," oscar smiles. "so, do you wanna know about her or not?"

"alright, fire away, lover boy."

they talk - no, oscar talks - for the next hour about the girl that's recently enrolled into his private school. all logan can do is giggle and smile with oscar at how their relationship had gone down.

even after oscar has hung up, logan still doesn't really know much about the girl he's spent the better part of the past hour talking about. oscar simply refers to her as 'my girl'.

the next time oscar and logan reunite in the uk is at the end of the year. their mothers made an effort to get flights close to one another, letting them run into each other at the mcdonald's in the airport unknowingly while getting food before heading to the hotel.

"dude!" logan cheers, smacking oscar on the shoulder roughly.

"huh?" the smaller boy ahead of him looks up from his phone, turning his head to be greeted by a familiar pair of green eyes. he immediately locks his phone and slips it into his back pocket as realisation slowly dawns on him. "logan!"

"too busy texting on your phone to even notice i was behind you the entire time," logan scoffs jokingly as a hand comes up to pat him on the shoulder.

oscar presses his lips together as a blush creeps up on his cheeks. "sorry. i was texting my girl!"

"my girl this, my girl that," logan rolls his eyes with a smile. "did she not come along with you?"

"no, mate. she's off for a holiday with her family," oscar shrugs, biting down on his lip.

for the rest of the trip, logan will often catch Oscar cheesing at his phone. it doesn't matter when or where: they could be in their hotel room watching a movie, on the track waiting for the race to start, or while they're having a casual chat before they go to bed.

one question haunts logan for the rest of their stay in the uk: who is this girl?

though, it seems that logan is never destined to meet this girl that his best friend spent an entire year gushing about. because at three in the morning on a random saturday in may, his phone buzzes with oscar's picture taking over his entire screen again.

"we broke up."

logan would stay up all morning with oscar that day, letting oscar choke back on tears for the next thirty minutes about the girl that simply packed her bags and moved halfway across the world from him. they would never speak of this day again, even after they both relocated to the uk together to start their junior career.

oscar never speaks of the girl he once devoted his entire self to, but logan often finds himself thinking of her whereabouts and how their relationship had changed oscar.

oscar never uttered the phrase ‘my girl’ when he started dating his long-time girlfriend, lily zneimer. now that they’re in f1 together, logan has at least gotten to know this girlfriend.

he is very well aware that she exists: he’s talked to and touched lily. but the question still lingers in the back of his mind about the unnamed girl, even years later.

the thought of her pops up randomly in his mind as he approaches the paddocks for his sophomore year in the sport. that was prompted by the sight of oscar also making his way into the paddocks slightly ahead of him.

“mate, i heard you’ve got a special guest in your side of the garage today,” oscar teases, stepping away from logan as he reaches out to tap his card into the reader.

“what? who told you that?” logan scoffs, passing through the gantries as he throws his head back in disbelief. “ugh, alex needs to shut his trap. i bet he told lando then lando told you.”

“no, your mum told my mum,” oscar laughs. he nudges his friend with his shoulder. “why? are you shy?”

“piss off.” logan giggles as he drops his head, shaking his head as he bites back a smile. “i’ll see you later, mate.”

“oh, i’ll see you later alright. i’ve got to see who’s making you blush like that,” the australian giggles, shoving him in the direction of the williams racing home.

logan chases his shoulder, managing to land a soft smack before he completely walks away. sure, logan had been seeing somebody for a while, and this weekend was the one he had singled out for you to come out and watch his race.

you were scheduled to come in about thirty minutes for now, about twenty minutes before he is supposed to disappear from the garage for an interview panel.

and he’s excited. this is his first time having his personal guest, who isn’t his mother or brother, in his side of the garage. sure, getting halfsies of alex’s girlfriend from the garage next to him is still something, but it’s just not the same.

so, he tries to pass the next thirty minutes as well as he can. and he does everything: he terrorises his team in the garage, then james sitting his office, then alex in his driver’s room.

still ten minutes left on the clock.

kinda early, but i’m here! :)

logan almost jumps out of his skin at the notification that pops up along with your name. he swallows back the excited scream as he runs down the stairs, pushing himself past alex and his girlfriend who were gathered downstairs with james.

logan swings the glass doors open, slumping his shoulders and feeling a wave of happiness in his chest when he sees you standing shyly by the stairs.

you look very cozy: wrapped in a dark puffer jacket and your bag barely hanging onto your shoulder. he almost wants to disappear with you into his driver’s room and cuddle all day. to hell with his commitments, even if it means fighting off his pr officer.

“hey, you!” logan beams, perking up as he jogs down the few steps to where you were. “you should have texted me when you reached the paddocks. i could have picked you up.”

immediately, he bends down to take your bag into his hands and then he pulls you in for a warm hug. “thanks for making it out this weekend.”

“of course. how can i decline a chance to watch you in your element?” you smile, leaning back slightly and wrapping your arms around him. “thank you for reserving a pass for me.”

“absolutely!” logan cheers, pulling away. “let me bring you inside and introduce you to the team. you don’t mind, right?”

“it’s my pleasure,” you smile.

he puts a hand on your back as he guides you up the racing home, pushing the door open and beckons for you to walk in before him.

“ah, lily, you were right! it’s neither his brother nor his mum that’s making a special appearance this weekend!” alex booms from deep inside the hospitality, throwing his arms in the air. “mr american man got a girlfriend over the winter break?”

“shut up, mate,” logan scowls, moving his hand up to hold your shoulder protecticely. “but, yes. this is… my girlfriend.”

he shyly looks down at you, catching your eye as you glance up at him. you’ve only recently gotten into a relationship with logan; fresh, only six weeks into the title.

“oh, it’s so nice to meet you,” lily steps away from alex’s grasp and holds a hand out to you, “i’m lily. welcome to the paddocks.”

“hi, i’m (y/n). it's so nice to finally meet you,” you smile, taking her hand. “and alex! logan talks about you guys really often. i’m a big fan.”

“oh, logan talks about me,” alex teases in a laugh, also extending his hand out to you. “good things only, i hope.”

“hey, i told you not to tell him that,” logan says through his teeth, giving you a warning stare with wide eyes.

“it’s my first time meeting him, babe,” you laugh to logan, taking his hand in yours to shake.

"oh, can i tell you about logan's antics last year in the paddocks?" alex asks you excitedly, hopping one step toward you.

"or," lily laughs, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend to steer him away from you, "let's let her settle down with logan. you can terrorise her after the day has ended, alex."

"aw, but i've got lists of embarrassing things about him," alex sighs with a frown, though he lets lily guide him away from the new couple. he cranes his neck and grins at you. "i will see you later! i'll prepare a list!"

"so we're avoiding him later," logan smiles at you, now guiding you towards the steps that would lead you to some privacy. "have you run into anyone yet? have you seen liam yet?"

you shake your head. "not yet. but i hope you'll bring me to him so that i can get to say hi? i haven't seen him since we bumped into them at disneyland in december."

"yeah, i know. he's been asking about you." he opens the door to his driver's room to let you in. "so, i've got to run for a bit. i've got an interview panel. it really shouldn't take too long. i'm sorry."

"sorry? what are you sorry for?" you giggle, taking a seat in the corner of the room. your eyes scan the small room, taking note of the endless shirts riddled with williams' logo hung in the corner.

"i don't wanna just leave you here by yourself," logan slumps his shoulders with a frown, resting his hands on his knees as he bends over to meet your eyes. "i feel bad."

"oh, i'll be okay." you wave off his concern and lean in, pressing a chase kiss to his lips. "just text me when you're done. i'll go downstairs and find lily and get to know her better."

"that's a good idea! you guys should really go around the paddocks. there's a concert somewhere too, make the best out of my pass, okay?" logan smiles, his hand cupping your chin. he brushes his thumb over your cheek as he towers over you. "text me if you get lost."

"i won't get lost," you smile, standing up from the seat. "i actually haven't had my coffee yet. do you know anywhere i can get a cup of coffee?"

"oh, lily should know where," logan hums, tapping his bottom lip as he heads for his door. "let me get her for you."

"logan." the firmness in your voice stops logan in his tracks, turning around with curious eyes. "i can find lily on my own. i'll be okay - i'll see you later."

"are you sure? i just feel bad that i'll leave you all by yourself," logan whispers, leaning in to kiss your cheek. "i'll miss you."

"i'll miss you too. but you've got a job to do," you giggle, walking out of his room with your hands wrapped around his arm. "i won't disappear. i'll meet you wherever when you're done. just text me."

"fine."

so logan goes and does his media commitments with alex in tow. and lily clearly had the same idea as you, meeting you at the front doors as alex walked away with logan.

"logan mentioned you were looking for coffee?" lily beams, quickly finding herself by your side as she leads you around the paddocks. "i know the best racing home to get a good cup of, but we might have to sneak in."

"sneak in?" you tilt your head. "is that even allowed?"

"yeah, carmen will get us in! mercedes has got the best cup of coffee to offer around here," lily giggles. "and, you should meet the rest of the girls. what are you going to do for the rest of the evening while the boys are out doing their jobs?"

"i suppose you're right," you shrug with a small smile. "but it's my first time here. should i really be caught sneaking into another team's home?"

"ah, you're with me," lily smiles. "i've got you."

so you actually get your cup of coffee in the back of the mercedes' racing home, now finding yourself huddled together with carmen and lily. they had asked you how you had come to meet logan, especially after the driver had spent most of it behind closed doors and rarely showed himself to the cameras.

it was a pretty simple story. you had been on vacation in new york with a group of your friends, minding your business in the corner of a crowded bar. truthfully, you didn't even want to be there, but it was your best friend's birthday trip. you couldn't say no even if you insisted.

logan had caught sight of you pretending to drink shots your friends were handing you towards the end of the night. eventually, you wound up with about six filled shot glasses hiding behind you, desperately hidden from your friend's prying eyes.

he thought it was funny, and had offered to finish them for you. in exchange for a promise that they were not laced with poison.

you had hit it off, and logan asked you out on a date. while you were unfortunately flying off to another state in a week, he had taken up the challenge and took you out on a date the very next night in the heart of new york city.

the rest is history, as they say.

"does logan actually ever say no to free alcohol?" carmen jokes, blowing into her cup of hot coffee. "wait! there's a concert happening not too far from here. do you guys know who's performing?"

"it should be on the race's instagram page," lily sighs, swiftly taking her phone out of her pocket. "but aren't the guys finishing up their interviews by now?"

"it's a long weekend. would they really notice if we weren't here for one break that they have?" carmen points out knowingly with a smile. "and we've got to show her," carmen gestures towards you, "around. is this your first race weekend?"

you nod shyly, taking a sip from your coffee. "but it's okay, really! don't go out of the way for me."

"that's silly." lily runs a hand through her hair and sighs, resting a hand on her hip. "okay, so, let's meet the guys near the pit building. when they're called in for their driver's briefing, we make a run for the concert area, okay?"

"that sounds like a much better compromise." carmen turns to you with a playful smile. "we will teach you how to make the most out of logan's race pass. you're going to have so much fun with us."

"after the concert, we'll head upstairs to the viewing pen and get a couple of drinks," lily smiles. she glances down at her phone. "oh, seems like they're already done. you guys wanna head there together?"

"sure!"

you start backpedalling from your position, ready to follow the two veteran paddock enjoyers. that seemed like a good idea until your back collides with something - someone - and suddenly you've got mildly hot coffee all over your top.

this is the one time you regret unzipping your jacket to let a bit of the cold in.

"i'm so sorry."

"it's fine," you say with a soft whine, turning around before being flashed by a bright orange jacket and a pair of brown eyes. "it's..." you tilt your head. "do i know you from somewhere?"

the shape of his polite smile and the way his brown eyes look into you are all very familiar. but you just can't quite place a finger on it.

perhaps it's because he looks a lot different from the last time you saw him. you were a wee fourteen-year-old the last time you had seen him before you were forced to pack your bags and move away because of your dad's job.

but, as a kid, you generally did a lot of moving around because of that said job. now you're just trying to single him out by geographic location from the many friends you've made and lost contact with over the years.

"(y/n)?" oscar's eyebrows shoot up, your name coated thickly with an australian accent as his hand lingers on your shoulder.

"oh, you two know each other?" lily excitedly asks, looking between the two younger individuals.

who seem to be very caught up in their unexpected reunion. you'd be shocked too if the girl you had thought was the love of your life shows up at your big boy job with your colleagues' girlfriends with a mercerdes coffee cup in hand.

"yeah, we uh," oscar takes a step away from you and puts his hands in the pockets of his team jacket, "we used to go to school together. in melbourne."

"right," you sigh in relief, finally being able to place him in a particular timeline of your life. you finally remember him: oscar piastri, the school heartthrob with a charming smile and friendly eyes. he had even asked you to be his girlfriend at some point, dating for the better part of a year before you had to leave melbourne with your family. "oscar, right? i'm sorry, my memory's a little bit hazy."

"no, yeah," oscar agrees, scanning you head to toe. "it's been... how long has it been since we last saw each other?"

"very long. it's been years since i left melbourne." you lower your cup and readjust your jacket, trying to hide the prominent wet patch of coffee at the collar of your inner shirt.

but the longer you stare at him, the more the memories come rushing back to the time you spent with the best friend you had made in melbourne for those years. you can vividly remember oscar picking you out in pe to be his teammate, sneaking out of homeroom to grab a juice pack together right down the hall.

you had completely forgotten the tears you shed that day you had to leave melbourne. you swore that you would keep in contact with the warmest brown eyes your eyes have ever seen, but you had simply gotten too busy settling into the new environment that had been thrown at you.

before you knew it, you had dropped your phone into the lake when you were out with your friends and you lost oscar's phone number. you never found a way to reconnect with him, and eventually, he had joined the long list of friends that you had forgotten about.

"i," oscar laughs, "what are you doing here in the paddocks? are you friends with them?"

"no," you straighten your back with a polite smile, "i'm with somebody - logan."

and oscar's never wanted to ever tear apart the paddocks' walls with his own hands before. what do you mean his girl is here with his best friend?

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1

812 notes · View notes