#why does my brain only do this at work and never the weekend | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

astonmartinii · 4 months ago

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little lion | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem young mum!reader

journalists go digging in max's past and think they've found f1's next big scandal - but they underestimate just how protective max is of his little lion

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

f1tea

liked by user5, user6 and 23,095 others

f1tea: this is y/n y/ln the supposed baby momma of max verstappen. not much is known about her, with her only going back to work recently as a therapist in monaco.

her and max had their baby, a girl, back when they were 17 in 2015. max has never been seen in public with the child and has never publicly claimed her either.

will we see her in the paddock now all the news is out?

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user7: holy shit this is insane

user8: this poor girl doesn't deserve this

user9: literally, either max is a present father and is just private or he doesn't have anything to do with them? but it coming out like this is probably stressful regardless

user10: also by my calculations, the baby will be nearly nine, so probably has a concept of fame and celebrity and if they haven't gone to a race it's probably for a reason

user11: i mean the way people are already talking about them proves them right already

user12: ted kravitz telling it like it is 🤲

user13: no he's not ??? he basically went on broadcast to call y/n a slut and try and say that he was 'always right about max because this proves he is reckless'

user14: once again, this child is eight and could understand some of this if they see it

user15: also the incidents ted is bringing up happened EIGHT YEARS AGO stop bringing a child into your weird agenda

user16: if he's not careful red bull will ban sky from their media run again

user17: i found her instagram and max, alex and daniel all follow her so it's defo legit

user18: i also found it but it's private :(

user19: i tried to follow but got blocked :/

user20: do you people have rocks for brains if it's private it means we're not meant to find it, if she's not spoken about it in eight years that means IT'S NOT OUR BUSINESS

user21: someone tell max to get a DNA test asap, gold diggers will do anything for money and fame

user22: what fame? she's got like 400 followers and has never spoken about max to any media outlet

user23: the way you people jump to gold digging allegations kill me

user24: also if max is the dead beat that sky are trying to make him out to be and y/n is a gold digger then why haven't we seen some child support claims and whatnot

user25: you have no shame posting this, if she didn't want to be found she doesn't want to be found

user26: f1 vultures at their best

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 2,389,774 others

maxverstappen1: i've seen a lot of journalists and 'professionals' trying to point score with the 'big revelation' of my daughter. sydney is the love of my life and for someone who grew up in the public eye i thought it would be best to keep my daughter away from the circus. not that i owe it to any of you people, but i see syd as much as i possibly can and i didn't want to post her or bring her to the paddock until she could make that choice for herself. y/n is a wonderful mother and is the exact support system i would want for my daughter.

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user27: MAX IS A GIRL DAD?

user28: congratulations media and internet you forced him to expose his kid

user29: the way they probably see this as a victory annoys me to my core

yourusername: you're an amazing father max, don't let them tell you anything else. sydney loves you and that's all that matters.

maxverstappen1: thank you y/n, i miss you both - see you this weekend!

yourusername: we look forward to it! x

user30: she didn't say that she loves him too so they're defo not together

user31: will you people ever learn to read the room?

user32: oh wow so max does see his daughter - watch sky still run with the deadbeat angle

user33: they were so shameless about his SLEEP SCHEDULE i cannot imagine the shit crofty is going to throw at him over this

danielricciardo: i'm sorry for how this has all come out max but i'm so glad i can publicly express my love for my god daughter!

maxverstappen1: this might mean that you can give her all of your gifts in person (if she wants to come) lord knows i can never fit them back in my suitcase

user34: you literally have a private jet?

maxverstappen1: you underestimate how seriously daniel takes being a god parent

danielricciardo: i think i'm singlehandedly keeping jellycat in business tbf

yourusername: and ikea, i have to buy a new shelving unit every couple of weeks daniel

danielricciardo: SYD IS MY BEST FRIEND LEAVE ME ALONE

user35: drop 💥 the 💥 daniel 💥 and 💥 sydney 💥 photos 💥 now 💥

user36: actually don't i don't think my baby fever can take it

alexalbon: you're an amazing father max and sydney is the coolest girl in the world!

maxverstappen1: thank you alex 😊

alexalbon: also if you ever convince y/n to come to races PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE make her bake me some of her iconic brownies

yourusername: alex you know i can just bake you some and send them to you via max

alexalbon: please 😫😫😫

yourusername: no worries albono, you're a growing boy you need the nutrients

maxverstappen1: they're brownies

alexalbon: i need y/n's brownies to deal with YOU

maxverstappen1: ok maybe this is why i don't want to introduce you all :(

yourusername: don't worry maxie i'll make you some goodies to go

maxverstappen1: thank you :)

user37: she makes him to-go goodies 🥹

yourusername

liked by feranandoalo_oficial, danielricciardo and 319,506 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: i'm not very happy that i have to make this statement like this because people couldn't respect the boundaries max and i have set as parents but alas: max is the loveliest man in the world and the best father sydney could ask for. he has a very busy life but he still makes as much time as possible for syd and she loves him very much. max has been in the spotlight from a very young age and did not want that pressure and spectacle on his own daughter. we may have never been together, but max has never been the monster you're trying to make him out to be. please respect my daughter's privacy. thank you.

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user41: once again, this is a very cute family but god this is a horrible way to find out about them :(

user42: i hope they know so so many of us are supporting them

danielricciardo: syd has grown so much i actually feel kind of sick

yourusername: i was a mess on her first day of school :(

danielricciardo: oh i can imagine ... max never told us but i'm sure he was his usual stoic self

yourusername: he tried, but we did both cry over a carton of ice cream for the whole morning

maxverstappen1: IT WAS A VERY EMOTIONAL MORNING

yourusername: it really was 🥺

user43: i'm sorry but why do two europeans have a daughter called SYDNEY?

maxverstappen1: she's nearly eight... i made my f1 debut in australia eight years ago... i can't hold your hand any more than that

user44: LMAOOOOOOO

danielricciardo: i am HURT i thought she was named after her beloved god father?

yourusername: if that was the case do you not think we would've gone for the more obvious option of DANIELLE???

maxverstappen1: also you were just an acquaintance and childhood crush at that point daniel

yourusername: omg childhood crush on daniel SNAP

danielricciardo: i'm not that old???

maxverstappen1: we have such good taste

yourusername: we REALLY do

user44: so like they're defo flirting right?

user45: ugh you people have no class (i hope so)

landonorris: i'm so sorry for you guys BUT THANK GOD IT WAS SO HARD TO KEEP HER A SECRET

maxverstappen1: i mean y/n and i kept her a secret for like nearly eight years 🤨

yourusername: i also 100% caught your slip ups you're just lucky there was never any rumour at those times

landonorris: I AM A BLABBERMOUTH PLEASE BE PROUD OF ME

maxverstappen1: fine?

yourusername: i'd be more proud but everyone else also kept the secret sooooo ???

alexalbon

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 894,503 others

tagged: lilymunhe, yourusername

alexalbon: with permission i am now allowed to post my bestest friend in the world!

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user46: god has heard my prayers and gave me my alex and sydney content

user47: i'd say what a random pairing but i think my brain just blocked out alex at red bull as a trauma response

alexalbon: lord knows i only got through being locked in the sim with y/n's brownies and hugs from syd

yourusername: syd asked for her favourite uncle to score more points so we can get ice cream again

alexalbon: i'll fix the damn williams myself

yourusername: hurry up she's getting impatient (i have no clue where she gets that from)

maxverstappen1: I AM NOT IMPATIENT I JUST LIKE THINGS BEING DONE IN A PROMPT MANNER

yourusername: is that what you tell the engineers?

maxverstappen1: ... something along those lines

yourusername: are you going to get more community service?

maxverstappen1: i don't think there were any cameras ???

user48: so max doesn't believe in not swearing around kids... how bad is it with sydney?

maxverstappen1: i am on my BEST behaviour for her

alexalbon: she's like a little sailor

maxverstappen1: in my defence she's much cuter when she swears than me

charles_leclerc: is this why she called me a wanker when i didn't bring leo to the house?

yourusername: i fear that has alex albon written all over it

alexalbon: whoops!

lilymunhe: we need another play date asap !! he goes so mushy i can get him to do all the cute dates i wanna do

yourusername: is that why i got given a badly painted mug?

alexalbon: hey! i worked very hard on that :(

maxverstappen1: i thought sydney painted it alex

alexalbon: can you guys stop ganging up on me :(((((

yourusername: no!

maxverstappen1: 😘

user49: feeling some ... tension here

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, alexalbon and 1,450,987 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: guess who wanted to come see dad at work?

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user51: oh she really is max verstappen's daughter with that cold middle finger to ted kravitz

user52: are they going to make an eight year old do community service as well?

yourusername: great now she's attached to the engineers

maxverstappen1: oh noooooooooo how will we ever cope??? maybe we should all go to every race ???

yourusername: that would be very convenient, wouldn't it?

maxverstappen1: i can see you smiling while typing, i don't think you're as opposed as you say you are

yourusername: you got me! i like to see syd happy :(

maxverstappen1: and me...?

yourusername: and you, i guess 😚

user53: so like are we just going to ignore all of this ^^ and the second picture?

user54: it would be nice that through all the shit they've had thrown at them that they got together through it

danielricciardo: he's been waiting long enough

maxverstappen1: DANIEL???

danielricciardo: what ???

user55: daniel, thank you for your service

user56: i mean we've seen them at one race and it's crazy to think they're not together

alexalbon: why did i have to track my bestie down at the hotel? you verstappens too good for the williams garage?

yourusername: we were busy !!!

alexalbon: franco is distraught

francocolapinto: i am?

alexalbon: yes!!!!

francocolapinto: i am!

maxverstappen1: stop yapping for the love of god i was getting my shit together - something YOU told me to do

alexalbon: fine... i guess

user57: so like that's confirmation right?

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, pierregasly and 2,349,855 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: i'm still reporting all you journalists to the ethics boards but i guess something good did come out of all of this

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user58: FUCK SKY SPORTS BUT THANK THE LORD THIS IS SO CUTE

user59: a family that flips off ted kravitz together, stays together!

user60: y/n's dirty look at him will forever be legendary

maxverstappen1: i've always loved you, and i've loved playing the long game with you and prioritising syd !! here's to the rest of our lives xx

yourusername: i've always loved you too but as convoluted as it has been i think this has been the best way to be - all love to syd first

maxverstappen1: but now we can cut the shit and do all the cute things without it having to be a 'play date'

yourusername: i love you dummy, but your cats are mine now

maxverstappen1: they've always been yours, just like me

user61: okay fuck you guys this is too fucking cute

user62: no because i'm too chronically lonely to read this this morning

landonorris: FINALLY, I COULDN'T KEEP ANOTHER SECRET FOR MUCH LONGER

danielricciardo: booooooo, we've all kept this secret you're not special

landonorris: i thought i was the only one who max told about his feelings? like literally on the podium when he saw y/n and syd watching?

oscarpiastri: i think you just can't read people lando, even i knew max liked y/n and i've only seen them interact THIS WEEKEND

alexalbon: we've all known forever lando, you're not getting sympathy for keeping the secret for 12 hours

user63: the grid being so protective of the lil family is so cute

user64: i read that george got the GDPA to sign a petition that the media couldn't ask about syd before max was ready to start the conversation himself

user65: also by the sounds of it, they've been rooting for this relationship just as long as max and y/n

maxverstappen1: i'm so lucky to have two amazing girls in my life, i'll love you forever and as long as you'll have me

yourusername: now i have you, i'm never letting you go

maxverstappen1: right back at you

yourusername: you're the bestest father ever and the love of my life, never let anyone tell you anything else my gentle boy

maxverstappen1: i love you both more than anything ever, you're my guardian angel and syd is my favourite little lion

fin.

note: HAPPY MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN BIRTHDAY TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE !!!

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen social media au

5K notes · View notes

that-house · 1 year ago

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Potion Vendor FAQs:

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.

Do you sell love potions? No.

Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.

Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.

Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.

Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.

So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.

Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.

Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.

Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.

Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.

Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.

Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.

So can you make poison potions? No.

Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.

Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.

How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.

You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.

Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.

Road trip? He lives in Seattle.

Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.

For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.

And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.

Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.

Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.

You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.

So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.

Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.

Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.

Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.

What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.

You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.

Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.

Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.

Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.

Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.

Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.

Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.

When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.

When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.

Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.

Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.

Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.

Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.

I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.

How did you know that? …I’m psychic.

Yeah? No.

You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.

Did you just miss a turn? Probably.

Are you sure we’re not lost? No.

You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.

Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.

Would it help if I said it was? It would.

Is it getting dark? Soon.

Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.

Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.

Should we find a motel? Sure.

One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.

You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.

Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.

Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.

How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.

How many beds are there? One.

Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.

Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.

How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.

Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.

For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.

Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.

Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.

Are you asleep? …

Yes? …

Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …

What should I say? …

Did you know that I had a really nice day? …

Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …

Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …

Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …

Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …

Did you know that you’re warm? …

Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.

Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.

Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.

What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!

Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.

You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!

Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.

Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.

You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.

Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.

Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.

How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.

Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.

150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.

Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.

And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!

Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.

And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.

So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.

So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!

Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.

Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.

Are you done eating? Yep.

Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.

How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.

Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.

Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.

What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.

Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.

Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…

Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.

Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?

When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.

Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.

What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.

Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.

What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.

Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.

Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.

What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.

I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …

Did he get his body modified? …

What sort of surgery could do that? …

How is he still alive? …

Did a fucking wizard do it? …

WHY? …

HOW? …

Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …

I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.

Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.

Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.

Can we do that? Of course.

Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.

Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.

Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.

Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.

How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.

How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.

That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.

Wanna fuck? God yes.

Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.

…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.

How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.

How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!

Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.

When will we get there? Noon-ish.

Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.

Is this Seattle? Looks like it.

Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.

Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.

So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.

Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.

So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!

How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.

Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.

Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.

Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!

Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!

Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.

I just caught this, but, FAQ? …

As in Frequently Asked Questions? …

How many times is Frequent? …

Have you known everything all along? …

How many times have you done this? …

Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!

And you say that every time? Yes. I do.

Do you love me? Yes.

How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.

Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.

Can I go now? Please don’t.

But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.

How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.

What happens at the end of this? It begins again.

And do I get replaced with someone else? …

Do I get replaced? …Yes.

Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!

You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.

How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?

Did you know my name is Alice? …

Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …

Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …

Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!

Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.

Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.

Be good to the next me, okay? I will.

Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.

Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.

What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.

What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!

What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.

Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.

What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.

What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!

So I should keep repeating something? Yes!

I love you? I love you too.

I love you? Again.

I love you? Keep going.

I love you? I’ll just let you talk.

I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!

I love you? Now can you make it a statement?

I love you.

You did it?

I did it!

You did it!

We broke the loop.

What now?

Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.

And then?

Whatever we want, forever.

I think I’d like that.

Remember that song from the beginning?

The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?

We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?

Let me off, let me in

Let others battle

We don’t need to battle

And we both shall win

Pressed in my palm

Was a stone from the beach

The perfect circle

Gave a moment of peace

Now I’m lying on the floor

Like I’m not worth a chair

I close my eyes and imagine

I’m not there.

#neon-grey-writing #potion vendor faq #my writing #very very very long post lol #click the read more you know you wanna it's worth it trust me #i wrote the original draft of this at like. 3 am back in early 2023 #that's right it's catherine that-house the squares comic gal back at it again with yet another meta exploration of a storytelling format

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pynkfairyheart · 8 months ago

Note

hiii so I saw you said request were open! i really LOVE your writing so yk yk i had to ask but can you do like a story where ony does a being mean to my girlfriend prank but y/n is a reallll crybaby!! BYEE

pairings: onyankopon x sensitive!reader

warnings: smut 18+, ony is a lil mean, reader cries a lil bit

a/n: so sorry it took me this long, life has been....lifing.

What goes around comes around

Actions have consequences, you knew this and yet you still decided to go with your plan.

Setting up your phone you smiled into the camera and started your intro.

“Hi, lovelies. Today we’re gonna do a get ready with me, while I tell you three reasons it's okay to cheat on your boyfriend.”

Taking a quick glance in the mirror of your vanity, you could see the wheels working overtime in the handsome head that belonged to your boyfriend.

The decision on whether to be calm or tweak out playing tug of war on his brain.

Settling on the thought that he misheard you he decided to go the calm route.

“Whatchu say, baby?” Deep voice contrasting against the soft tone of Jhene Aiko in the quiet room.

“Hmm?” You feigned innocence as you met his eyes in the mirror.

“I asked, ‘What did you say?’ ” His straightening posture and tone transition to demanding letting you know his patience was thinning by the second.

You were positive this would end with you folded in half, crying from overstimulation as he continuously ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. The thought only excited you and fueled your response.

With a shrug of your shoulders you hummed a quick ‘I don't know’ and went back to your task.

“The fuck you mean youn know?” He chuckled in disbelief, hand running over his freshly maintained waves before coming down to rub the lower half of his face.

Opting to ignore him, you continued along with your routine, silently.

“So you just gon ignore me?” Heavy thuds bouncing off the walls as he made his way to stand behind you.

The light pressure applied to your neck, as he tilted your head back having your thighs clench.

Oh, how you wanted to ditch the plan and jump his bones. Brown eyes glaring down into yours, as he tightened his grip.

Feeling a little risky you decided to do the one thing Ony hates most. Roll your eyes.

“Mmm, aight” He nodded his head. Zero fucks given to the content you were creating as he lifted you from your chair and bent you over.

Never once slowing his assault even after you managed to tell him it was a prank through your moans and cries.

The new information only encouraging him to go faster as your arousal trickled onto the wood floors while he required you to tell the camera why it wasn't okay to cheat on your boyfriend as he fucked you dumb.

Usually, your consequences consisted of the audacity being fucked out of you whenever you did something to piss Ony off, but this time he decided to play a prank of his own.

Waiting a week to execute his plan, he chose to carry it out the day you came back from your girl's weekend.

“You didn't hear me or get my texts?” A small pout forming on your glossy lips as you sat next to him, despite him taking up more than half of the bed.

“Baby, I'm home” You sang as you wandered around the house looking for him.

Only to find him laid out on the bed as he watched an episode of Judge Mathis.

“I did” Eyes trained on the TV.

“Did something happen?” You gripped his jaw, forcing him to finally look at you.

“Nah, I just don’t feel good.” He removed your hand from his face and moved to the opposite side of the bed.

“You need me to make you some soup?” Pout returning to your lips as he flinched away when you tried to check his temperature.

“I’m good. You could leave me alone though.”

You considered yourself to be very understanding when it came to relationships. Whether it was with family, a coworker, or a client, but more than anything when it came to your relationship with Ony. You understood he needed time to himself just as you did, but the way he said it was just… mean.

The stinging sensation of your eyes was becoming unbearable as the tears pooled in the inner corners of your eyes.

“Oh” Voice cracking despite swallowing the lump that lingered in your throat.

Your tone raised alarms in the man. His own heart gained a pace that matched yours as he saw the tears that began to spill from your eyes.

“Wait, I'm sorry, ma. I was just playing. C'mere” Hand reaching out to hold you, only to pause when you flinched away from him.

“Mama, it was just a prank. I'm sorry, baby” Panic rising at the influx of tears flowing from your eyes.

Seeing you cry from any negative emotion always pained him, but knowing he was the reason for the tears falling from your pouty face made him feel as if he failed in life.

“What do you mean it's a prank Onyankopon?” You huffed, the palm of your hand wet as you wiped away your tears.

“I was just joking. You know how you did that video last week? I was doing something similar. I didn't mean to hurt you, mama. Please believe me” He pleaded.

Maybe it was the immense amount of love you had for him or that it'd be wrong to not forgive him when he put up with all your antics, but you couldn't stay mad at him for too long.

“You really need to work on your pranks. They're terrible” Pink satin pillow softly hitting him along the side of his head.

“I know, I'm sorry, c'mere” He smiled, happy you were no longer crying and motioned for you to straddle him.

Caring less about the fact you were wearing a dress you crawled over to him, getting comfortable on his lap as you traced the small tattoo of your name behind his ear,

“You know you're gonna have to make it up to me right?”

“Mhm” He mindlessly hummed, eyes trained on your lips before he could no longer resist.

Low groan escaping his chest as he pulls you closer, tongue tracing your bottom lip before diving into your mouth.

“Ony” You whimpered as his lips moved down to your neck, peppering gentle kisses along your skin before sucking on the areas that made you weak. Your body craving for some sort of friction as you ground your hips down onto his.

“I know, mama” He murmured. His fingers sliding up your dress before slipping past the waistband of your panties, digits immediately coming into contact with the slick that was pooling in between your chubby thighs.

“Lil ma already soaked for me” He groaned against your warm skin. A small bruise forming where he was previously sucking.

“Ony, stop teasing” You whined as he slowly rubbed your clit, the pads of his fingers barely grazing the bud.

With a slight smirk on his lips his fingers gravitated to your entrance, slowly rubbing at the pulsing hole before his fingers worked their way into your walls.

Fingers knuckles deep as he curled them against the soft spongy flesh against your walls.

“Need you inside now” You pouted, craving something more than the two digits plunging in and out of you.

“Yeah?” He mumbled as he pulled out his fingers. Placing the pads on your tongue as you sucked your arousal off his digits, just as you would do his cock.

Watching you with lust filled eyes he removed his fingers from your mouth, and wrapped a hand around your neck before pulling you in for a nasty kiss. His tongue exploring the path down your throat while you rocked against the growing bulge in his pants.

Pulling away to fumble with the waistband of his pants he pulled down his sweats just enough to release his throbbing cock. Standing tall with his viens prominent and tip leaking a small amount of precum.

“Ride your dick, ma” He pulled your panties to the side rubbing his tip along the slick folds of your puffy pussy, before lining up with your entrance and helping you sink down onto him. Hiss escaping him as your warm walls engulfed him.

“Ony s'so big" You whined in his ear. Allowing him to lift you up and down his cock at a deliciously slow pace, your walls contracting around him at every movement.

“Doing so good fa me.” Two toned lip stuck in between his pearly white teeth as he bucked his hips up to meet your thrust, tip grazing against your cervix.

“Fuck. Faster, daddy, please” You gasped, head resting in his neck as he did all of the work.

Listening to your plea, he picked up his pace, thrusting deeper into you. The sound of your pooling arousal, slapping flesh, and your mixed moans filling the room, atmosphere becoming nastier by the second.

“I love you so fucking much” His arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you tried to run when he increased his pace.

“Say it back, ma” He grunted. Palm landing on the flesh of your ass.

Tired off your running, his hands gripped your hips and he pulled you off him, flipping you over onto your back before ramming back into you.

“Ohh, shit, Onyyy” You cried, knees near your ears as he pushed your legs back.

"Say it or I'm stopping" He threatened. Eyes focused on your sopping pussy sucking him in, sticky ring of arousal dripping from the base of his cock.

“I- mhmph love you too Ony, so much” Bed creaking under the speed and force of his thrust.

Releasing your legs he leaned down, lips immediately on yours in a sloppy kiss.

“I'm so close, pa" A mixture of moans and whimpers escaped your agape mouth, nails digging into his back with every thrust.

“Mhm, I know, baby. Let go for me” He grunted, reaching between your bodies to rub his thumb against your clit.

A series of curses left your mouth as you creamed around him. Walls contracting so tightly that he had no other choice but to cum.

“Fuuuck” He groaned, hips stilling inside you as he flooded your walls.

“I'm sorry for making you sad, baby. I love you so much, I'll never do anything to hurt you again” He whispered into your neck.

“I know Ony, I forgive you"

Pulling out he kissed you once more before laying flat in front of you, your thighs on each side of his head.

"Lemme show you how sorry I am, yeah?"

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moominsuki · 8 months ago

Text

12 DAYS and 20 HOURS WITHOUT YOU w/c: 5.1k - ; NAGUMO YOICHI x F!READER

✎ᝰ he’s a nuisance & you should be glad to be rid of him… so why does your heart ache for him so much? OR the part two in which you finally address your feelings for your hanger on ex.

࿄ ! warnings — porn WITH plot, MINORS DNI, piv, very explicit smut, unprotected sex (wrap up ppl), cunnilingus, fingering, female reader, nagumo is sexy and you will fall in love so pls keep that in mind.

/ note. i should be revising for my exams but instead i wrote this for a man who is severely underrated. it’s gonna be a nagumo fall. enjoy this anywho :P (ps. can be read as a standalone fic)!!

13 days. that’s how long it had been since you had seen nagumo. you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t eating you up inside.

after your small spat (if you could even call it that) you wrongfully assumed he’d be somewhere in your bedroom the next day when you hadn’t seen him on your couch. you were just about ready to scold him for having his feet all over your satin pillowcases.

only when you trudged upstairs, your bedroom was exactly how you left it. the door ajar, a small breeze from the window. pillows not askew. your sleepy kitten lounging on the covers.

at first, you considered yourself relieved. “good riddance,” you grumbled to yourself, falling atop the blankets and sighing, hands brushing at your pet. the chirp of the cicadas eats at your eardrums. has your home always been this quiet?

“whatever. knowing that idiot, he’ll be back in a day or two… now what to do…”

unfortunately for you, nagumo’s unprecedented drop ins had become part of your daily routine. you don’t become aware of the fact until it’s been exactly 4 days and he still hasn’t shown his face. it had already struck you as odd on the second day, let alone the fourth.

“why do you even care?” you ask yourself, standing under the hum of a sweltering shower. why do you care that your ex hasn’t come around to lounge in your home and bother you? in fact, isn’t this a good thing? the first few times it happened, you were irritated beyond belief - telling the man to get lost, locking your windows and doors only for nagumo to show up despite your barrage of insults, whether that’d be in your kitchen or on your couch or even in the shower (the image of seeing a naked nagumo after all this time was truly something, though you’d never admit it to his face, instead opting to throw a hard bar of soap at him and to which you then had to tend to his aching back after he so called “wept in pain.”) so why did he now decide to just ghost you?

“typical,” is all you can think, drying your hair off, eyes lingering on the razor he left on top of the toilet.

day five comes around. a good day at work with a cute man asking you out renders nagumo forgettable. you’re glad your brain decides it’s high time to forget about him. day six, seven, eight, nine. it’s extremely bearable. you start to see him in your dreams on the seventh day - exactly a week since he just up and left. “that’s normal,” you muse. you dream about people that aren’t in your life all the time. he’s no different.

the night of day ten falls. you’re incredibly exhausted, and you’re regretting making plans on saturday with that somewhat attractive man who works across the street. “it’s no biggie. it’s just one day till the weekend and i can cancel.”

you’re nodding off into your dinner. the warm smell of char siu and noodles doesn’t do much to keep you awake.

then you see him. dark brown eyes and a goofy smile to match. it makes you jump so hard you spill half the content of your meal down your shirt. nobody’s there. your cat sits at the leg of your chair, licking the sodden mess off of the ground.

the gravity of the situation dawns on you. you really really miss nagumo.

ᝰ ᝰ ᝰ ᝰ ᝰ

day eleven comes and goes and the twelfth drags, as do most fridays. that guy who asked you out the other day offers to drop you home when you’re standing outside. it’s warm out and you think a walk would be good for your head. you don’t decline his offer.

the man asks about you and confirms the details of your excursion, and you politely affirm, answering all his questions and asking them back just the same. “he’s not much of a talker,” you think. you’re not used to that.

by the time you’re home, you just want to pass out. you look around your kitchen, living room - heck, even the bathroom for safe measure, just in case you-know-who decided to drop by. the sound of metal clattering has you running to your bedroom, ventricles pumped. not that you cared… you’d act super cool and nonchalant if when nagumo drops by again. it’s all in vain, anyway. it was just your cat jumping onto your vanity. you shoo her away. your heart falls like a crescendo from loony tunes.

who exactly were you kidding? you had long dropped the facade that your heart wasn’t yearning for the idiot, and you wonder how he’s doing when you settle into bed. it would be unlike him to die in an unforeseeable accident, and he would never succumb to a death on the job. another looming realisation dawns on you.

he’s ignoring you.

you groan into your pillow. it’s not like you could really call him (you totally could, and it’s not because you noted down the digits of two of his burner phones, definitely not) without outing yourself. don’t forget the phone works two ways. forget it. you have a date tomorrow.

saturday comes. you get up relatively early. (un)fortunately for you, it’s a miserable day out, contrasting the beautiful weekdays that had passed.

your date texts you in teasing and sweet fashion and the pre-typed out message that consists of grovelling, apologies and more grovelling sits at your fingertips. fuck it. you can’t stay wound up over a man who probably didn’t want you in the first place.

you get ready very early, and you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, all done up in a silk to do and the accessories to match. it’s been a while since you’ve had a proper date. a few flings here and there, sure, but this seemed real. like a sure thing. similar to when…

!creaakkk!

your cat meowing and dropping things around in your bedroom has you standing up right, casting aside your lipgloss and running to shoo her away.

“honestly, ponyo, you’re such a drama queen-”

the words die on your tongue at the sight before you. nagumo sits at the edge of your bed, kitten fidgeting in his arms. he looks you up and down, and then he sends you an earth shattering smile, eyes crinkled.

“hey stranger. long time no see!”

your mouth opens and closes as he gets up, and ponyo leaps up and away when he places her on the ground.

“do you think she missed me? i think so. with the stuff you feed her, it’s inevitable-”

“are you serious?!” is all you can say, exasperated, gasping. nagumo’s eyes widen, and he sheepishly scratches the back of his head.

“don’t tell me you’re still mad at me? don’t make me get down on my knees and beg because-” the man gets cut off again as you all but throw your arms around his frame, face in his shirt, a little shaky. if nagumo feels the wobble of your body, he doesn’t mention it and a hand comes to rest at the small of your back.

“so can i assume that you’re not mad at me anymore?” you shake your head, and nagumo chuckles, nose pressed into your hair.

“i wasn’t mad at you,” you say, muffled into his shirt.

“oh? tell me more,” and you move your face slightly so your cheek is smushed against his shirt, eyes pointed away from him. though, you can already feel the expectant smile on the corner of his lips and you want to slap him. kiss him? both.

“i was mad at myself. and i was going to apologise for what i said but you basically ghosted me… for almost three weeks.”

it’s quiet for a moment until the man laughs, guffaws even and it emanates through his chest. you huff and step away from him, back turned away.

“ok, it’s not that funny. you can stop laughing now!”

“sorry, sorry. i’m done, i promise.” nagumo walks from behind you to step into your line of sight. “and technically, it’s only been… i wanna say 12 days and 20 hours.”

you deadpan. then you roll your eyes. “you were counting?! you’re unbelievable!” and he just pouts at you. eyes wide and shiny. you don’t admit to him that you’ve also been doing the same. that day’ll come.

“i mean, i would’ve come around sooner buttt! contrary to popular belief, i’m not so socially inept to not give you space. although, i was starting to think you were replacing me with that loser at that law firm. i want to say his name is hajime-”

“okay, not even close-”

“and what kind of idiot takes their woman out to a sushi bar on the first date. and he drives a toyota camri. he’s lame.”

“…first of all, i’m not his woman. how did you know i was going on a date tonight? and how do you even know what car he drives?”

“…let’s not sweat the details. that dress is new, right? haven’t seen it before. looks beautiful on you-”

“so not only were you spying on me but you were ignoring me?!” you fist the man by the collar of his coat and you just loll your head onto his chest. “were you always this crazy when we dated?” you hum and he laughs again. like he knows you’re addicted to the sound and how it makes your tummy ignite into something worse than flames. his hands find their way into his pocket and he shrugs.

“probably. but you liked it.” you don’t bother to contend. nagumo grabs you by the wrists, and takes a good look at you. his deep eyes follow the sliver of gold against your collarbones, all the way down to the hemming of your dress. it makes you feel hot under your heart shaped neckline.

“like the dress. like it a lot. wouldn’t waste it on some shitty sushi and cheap sake, though.”

“well it’s not you taking me out tonight though, is it? it’s…” you think for a second. you can feel the laughter blooming in his chest and you try to fight your way out of his grasp, though it’s in vain. nagumo laughs so hard that the pout on your face starts to pop into a smile and it’s infectious enough that you laugh too.

when the laughter inevitably dies down, you and the dark haired man share a look that you encompasses all the thoughts and emotions that have been swimming in your head the past long few days. he’s still holding you by the wrists, your fingers crinkling against the loose material of his shirt.

nagumo says your name, more so to himself as his tattooed hands stay wrapped from the width of your jewellery clad wrists down to your forearms.

“you’re being awfully touchy to a woman who’s supposed to being out on a date in a few hours,” you say, just above a whisper.

he hums at that, pulling you in further by the elbows. “i guess you’re right. you could always tell me to go away, though. wouldn’t be the first time.”

you groan audibly and he shoots you another grin that climbs its way into the wrinkles of your brain. “what do i have to do for you to not bring that up? and don’t make me get on my knees and beg-”

“damn, that was my first choice too!” you roll your eyes. he’s still holding you. your palms are flat against his chest. “i suppose i could call it even if…” nagumo pretends to ponder for a moment. you try to shove him with as much power as you can on the man.

“if you don’t just come out with it-”

“kiss me.”

the speed at which your eyebrows almost shoot into your hairline is unprecedented. you try to read his face for any sign of playful unfairness, but you’ve known him long enough to read the softness of his eyes.

your hands fist at his shirt again and it’s your turn to laugh at him, head thrown back. he pouts in response.

“you’re unbelievable,” and before he can retort, you lean up on your tip toes to do as he asked. he’s exactly how you remember, all those years ago. warm, sweet, slightly intoxicating. the sigh you release is shaky and he swallows it whole. the width of his palms immediately let go of your arms and find purchase on your waist and your hands travel all the same, resting on the planes of his face and neck.

the kiss is over before it started and you don’t even get a chance to breathe before nagumo is back on you, pulling you in by the hips, tongue slipping in comfortably like you’ve always been this way. and you give in, your body adapting to years old muscle memory. it’s like you’re almost a decade younger all over again, and your brain turns to mush when nagumo gropes you, grabbing all the parts he can to get impossibly closer to you.

you almost don’t notice the way he throws off his coat. and the fact that he’s trying to get you onto the bed. almost.

you protest in a breathy whine, breaking apart from locking lips. “we-i can’t. my date-”

“sucks. he sucks. i’ll take you wherever you want. buy you everything you want. just let me have you.”

you’re too out of it to even give a snarky answer, grabbing nagumo by the neck and pressing your lips to his own once more. he grunts, lightly pushing you both down onto the pillows.

he breaks apart from the kiss to lave more around your jaw, with one heavy hand resting on your cheek while he bruises on your neck, clavicle and the top of your breasts, all heavy and imposing. you writhe in his touch, and you can’t help the fact that your thighs start to rub against each other to soothe the heat arising in your core.

as perceptive as ever, nagumo quickly notices and makes fast work of placing his leg between your own, and you can’t help but breathe out a winded “yoichi.”

he groans, smirking against your collarbone. “missed hearing you say that.”

you huff, pushing his hands down the curves of your body. “don’t push your luck, nagumo.”

he chuckles, unfazed, and smooth, deft fingers climb under the hem of your satiny dress. he hikes your dress high enough to see a flash of damp cotton panties.

he presses a digit against your clothed clit and you can’t control the way your head falls against your pillows, mouth falling open as you whine out his name again.

nagumo halts all movement though, pushing himself backwards to lean further onto his knees off the bed. you practically jump up, confused and stupidly horny.

“strip for me.”

you narrow your eyes. he shoots you a saccharine smile, and you don’t bother to banter with him, getting on your haunches and pulling down a thin strap on either arm, and shimmying out of the garment. you can tell by the elated shock in nagumo’s eyes that he hadn’t expected you to comply but you throw the dress in his face, and he shakes it off faster than you can adjust yourself on top of the bed covers. he’s already crowding over you, face mere centimetres away.

“sorry, you can’t be the only one having your fun,” you tease, leaning up to kiss his nose and it’s his turn to not take your bait, but maybe it’s because he’s too enamoured at the sight of your naked body after all this time. a tattooed hand reaches up to grab a handful of your boob, pinching slightly at your nipple and the other makes it descent down to the hemming of your panties. his fingertips dip into the front, pushing the material to the side and he groans when he can see the way your pussy clenches over nothing.

“you’re so pretty,” he sighs, and you watch the way he touches you, featherlight and it has you writhing, inching closer to feel more of his touch.

“patience, baby.” nagumo throws off his shirt, and you take in the expanse of his never ending tattoos. your hand reaches up to touch the one on his stomach and he smirks, albeit warm and slightly teasing.

“got a few new ones a couple months back,” he all but whispers and you hum.

“i like them,” you state, matter of factly and he pushes your hand away to lay on his stomach between your legs.

nagumo’s face presses into your belly, and you push a few fingers into the dense strands of his hair. he kisses you at the belly button, paving a wet path down to your moist underwear.

he noisily smooches on your panty clad clit and you wordlessly protest in embarrassment, groaning and whining while he smiles against you. though, you’re quick to stop complaining when he pushes your panties to the side and breathes you in, kissing your uncovered pubis. now you’re frantically trying to push him away instead.

“you’re so shameless,” you fuss and nagumo doesn’t say anything. he only pushes your legs further apart to accommodate him.

“can i eat you out?” he asks and you raise a brow, face flushing. he shrugs, “i wanna hear you say it.”

you want to insult him for trying to fluster you in his own weird way but you’re also stupidly, ridiculously turned on right now that you can’t be bothered to play this cat and mouse game.

your hands cover your face and you mumble ever so quietly, verbatim: “please eat me out.”

“can’t hear you, sweetheart. come on, you can’t possibly be acting all shy. my face is literally in your-”

“just please eat me out!” you say, exasperated and incensed by the burning desire to have his mouth on you.

nagumo doesn’t mess with you any further but he can’t help the snicker that escapes him. you’re also ready to call him names and berate him, unfortunately being the hot head that you are, but it’s a useless act because nagumo already has your pants down your legs and strewn across the room somewhere, and he’s immediately pressing a sloppy, wet kiss on your love button.

a strangled “yoichi!” escapes from your throat and you’re already helplessly weaving between the strands of his black hair. it only goads him on further, and your head struggles to keep itself up when he thumbs at the hood of your clit, lifting it up to suck at the bundle of nerves. you become one with the plush pillows beneath you once again.

nagumo’s tongue soothes and pokes around, sucking and kissing at all the sensitive parts of your flower. he lifts one leg up higher to allow him more access, and you lock your fingers on top of his hand that grips ardently at the tender skin of your thigh. you have no time to react when you feel two fingers press into your cunt hole, and you chant his name like a mantra, gasping and almost tearful from the way he feels.

you can feel his dark brown eyes on you, and he stops tasting you to bite your inner thigh. you yelp, and he lulls over where he indented you with his teeth.

“you’re close, right? want you to look at me when you cum,” is all he says, and you don’t get to reply when he’s back sucking your pearl into his mouth, pressing his fingers against a certain spot inside you that has your legs trying to close in on themselves around his head.

“f-fuck, ‘ichi, i’m gonna cum,” you moan, and per his request, your eyes stay on his own, and you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, the applied pressure stopping you from falling back and losing it.

“say my name like that again,” he groans, and you don’t fail to notice the way he grinds against the bed ever so slightly. “come on, baby, you’re almost there-”

“hnngh, fuck, right there ‘ichi, ‘m cumming-,” you gasp and a flash of white behind your eyes renders you temporarily paralytic, eyebrows furrowed and mouth opened in an ‘o’, and the grip on nagumo’s hair tightens. he keeps a firm hand on your thigh, and your heart would burst at the romantic gesture of him interlocking your fingers together at literally any other time, but he doesn’t stop his assault on the spongey spot inside you until you go limp and you practically have to pry the man off of you.

nagumo’s no sadist (to you, at certain times) so he stops, pulling back and watching the way your chest heaves and the way you glisten between your upper thighs. you don’t register that he’s next to you again until you feel nimble fingers touching on your lower belly. you open your eyes to look at him, and the full blown lust in his eyes makes you choke a little bit.

you grab his hand off your stomach to kiss his fingertips, and then you’re clambering on top of him, palms splayed against his decorated chest. you feel the thickness of his hard cock pressed against your wet core, and you grind against the strained material of his trousers. nagumo grunts, head falling back slightly as he immediately finds purchase on your ass.

“you’re hard,” you assert, and he laughs a little breathlessly and it breaks off into a moan when you press down on him a little harder.

“i guess i am,” he rustles, squeezing your lower curves to push you against his stiffness. “you should let me put it in.”

“oh? is that so?” you say, taunting the man as you slide up and down his neglected cock that’s begging to be released from its confines.

“yeah… wanna fuck you, baby.” nagumo’s all heavy eyelids and suave lips as he gazes up at you, hands all touching all over you. you’re heating up from his languid touches, and you’re cursing yourself for already being so raring to go after he ate you to his heart’s content.

“okay,” is all you say, and you shimmy backwards to undo the man’s bottoms, unbuttoning his pants and helping him kick them off till he’s left in tight gray boxer briefs. your eyes find the damp patch on the front of his shorts, and you softly finger the head of his cock through the cloth. nagumo grunts, sighing your name when you waste no time pulling down his underwear to reveal him in all his glory.

“didn’t that hurt?” you wonder out loud, more to yourself if anything, and nagumo realises you’re referring to the tattoo above his pelvis, only shy of the dark trail that nests above his erection. he places a hand over your wandering one and he chuckles.

“a little. nothing i can’t handle.” you make a noise of something, and you lean down to kiss him very gently and so very close to where he wants. nagumo groans, and he reaches down to pet your hair.

“another time,” you wink, biting your lip. nagumo smiles, raising a brow and he looks like he wants to ask you what you mean but you’re ahead of the curve and you’re settling back up on his lower body, your soaked heat brushing and sliding against his cock. he’s putty after that, head in the clouds as he feels the drench of your lips rub against the hardness of his cock.

“tell me you want it,” you say, and you stop looking down to where you’re almost conjoined to meet nagumo’s eyes; his face contorted to something readable only to you. “or, you know, you could just cum like this.”

nagumo moans at that, and he sets a heavy handed grab on your ass. “don’t remember you being such a tease, baby, sh-shit.”

you croon at his words. you don’t stop the ministrations of your grinding and the raven haired man beneath you barely puts out until the slick of your cunt hole catches the mushroom shaped tip of his cock.

“fuck, i want it, baby, want you to cream on me-” and you don’t let him finish his vulgarity because you grab him at the base of his cock and settle yourself right on top of him, inch by inch.

nagumo hisses, and his iron grip on your hips doesn’t subside until he’s all the way inside you. you both simultaneously moan in relief when he’s by the hilt, and you can practically feel him all the way in your throat.

“fucking missed this so much,” he keens, and you feel him raise his knees to accommodate to you better. you slowly get the rhythm going, grinding and gently bouncing on his dick and you’re delirious at the way his pubic hair brushes against your swollen clit, and how you can feel the slap of his weighted balls against your ass.

nagumo plants his feet on the bed, refusing to loosen his grip on you and you can’t even bring yourself to care about the bruises that’ll stay depressed into your skin. you move one of his number decorated hands to grab at your chest, which he complies with and the other stabilises you against him so that he can thrust into you at a steady pace.

“so, so good,” you whine, almost falling forward by the jolt of nagumo’s body. you plant both arms on either side of his head, tits bouncing in his face, going back and forth against his open mouth that tries to catch a pebbling nipple.

taunting words leave his mouth as he watches you try to keep up. “feel good, baby? shit. tell me how it feels, y-yeah? you like it when i fuck you like this, huh?”

you clench around him tighter. “hnnngh, so fuc-fucking good, ‘ichi.”

you lean down on your elbows, and while he bucks up into you, his eyes don’t stray, and when your lips follow the sharp lines of his jaw and press on his jugular, nagumo angles his head so you can sloppy kiss him on the mouth.

it’s like that for a few moments until he stops to throw you off of him, and you’re ready to whine and complain, but he’s already on you again, this time on top.

“gotta take my time with you,” he breathes, and he finds a new position, this time pulling your left leg over his shoulder and spreading the right one to fit around his hips.

“is that code for you were gonna cum too fast?” you giggle, and nagumo doesn’t grace your playful ribbing because he slips back into you and your once teasing laughter breaks off into a deep moan of pleasure.

“don’t make fun of me,” he says, feeding his cock into you at an achingly slow rate, “hurts my feelings.” and you want to call him embarrassing and silly, you really do, but your heart is on your tongue and nagumo overcrowds every part of your senses.

nagumo leans over you, and grinds himself inside your compact walls. his face is in the crook of your neck and he teethes at the tender skin. you throw a callous hand in hand to satiate the hunger in your belly.

the unrelenting pace in which he fucks you is downright insane: all you can think about is him, all you can smell and taste is him. when you open your eyes, he’s looking down at you, holding and stretching you open, spitting not-so-sweet nothings at you. you worship him all the same, crying out his name, begging him to take you harder and faster, nails raking across the width of his back.

“you’re s-so, hah, shit, you’re so gorgeous,” he moans, “not gonna last, f-fuck.”

you’re almost there, teetering on the finish line, so nagumo ever so slightly adjusts his position, and he presses his cock head against that point inside you. you’re weightless in his hold, writhing when he reaches down to rub taut circles against your puffy pearl. it’s enough to make you sob, gasp and cry out a throaty “‘ichi!”, back arching, toes curling.

nagumo takes a hardened nipple into his mouth, bruising against the creamy flesh of your tits. his speed and movement becomes sloppy, rushing to the edge, the echoes of skin slapping against each other. your tearful face and your short winded begging (“cum inside me, yoichi” and “want you to fill me up”) in the midst of your intra-climatic hue are enough to get him to empty out hot inside of you, his eyebrows furrowed and an o-shape taking over the soft shine of his mouth.

you pull yourself up by the hand on the back of his scruff to kiss him wetly, tongue and all and he takes it, moaning and cursing out your name while pushing his seed deep inside you.

it’s quiet except for mingling, heavy breaths and the creak of your bed when nagumo falls on top of you. you squeak in protest, trying to push the lug of a man off.

“get off me you big idiot!” you squeal, and you feel his body shaking while he’s closed in on you.

“you’re nice and warm,” he sighs, “think i could stay like this for a good, couple of hours.”

you scoff. your hand reaches up to pet at his damp hair. nagumo smiles against your clavicle.

“do you think i still have time to go on that date?” you say, all forlorn and nagumo’s head shoots up, in which you laugh at the way his face contorts. he grumbles, and he eases out of you slowly. you hiss, but the grin on your face stays all the same.

“you think you’re so funny,” nagumo dryly contends and you sit up, kissing him on the nose.

“what can i say? learnt from the best,” you reply, just to the point where only he can hear you.

you think he’s so ridiculously easy (you won’t ever tell him that) when he returns your grin, and grabs your face to kiss you, all over you cheeks and lips.

“damn right, baby, damn right.”

EXTRA, EXTRA - read all about it:

“by the way, what did you mean when you said i owed you one?”

nagumo pulls his head from your chest, tv blaring and illuminating his puzzled, adorable expression, a piece of popcorn dangling from his mouth. his face turns blank as he ponders. then it’s like a lightbulb switches on above his head.

“oh, i fed ponyo and let her out onto the balcony but that old man saw me and i convinced him that he was seeing things so he wouldn’t call the cops… you’re welcome!”

“you did WHAT?!”

#✎𓂃⊹ monologue💬 .ᐟ‍。°˖⌕#༝˚૮ .♡ yoichi.#✎𓂃uma thirsts。°˖⌕#nagumo yoichi x reader #nagumo x reader #sakamoto days x reader #nagumo smut #nagumo yoichi #skdy x reader #sakadays x reader #nagumo yoichi fanfic #no beta read sawryyy i tried

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redpill-tfs · 28 days ago

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Red Wave

January 1st, 2025

Yo, so I started this Red Wave trial thing today. The docs said it’s supposed to, like, make your brain work better or something. Was told to track my thoughts in this journal thing. Honestly, I’m just here for the cash. I’m not buying into any of their science-y shit. Took the first pill this morning. Feel normal so far. Guess we’ll see if this stuff actually does anything.

Since I was told to describe myself a bit, I guess I might as well if I want that cash they promised. Name's Blake. I'm 26 and work at a local manufacturing company in the finance department. It's a pretty chill gig. Don't gotta wear a suit either which is good. Didn't even wear one to my graduation and I don't plan on starting now.

Anyway bro, I'm also a proud atheist. Never got into politics, but I guess I'm more liberal. I mean, just let people do what they want, right?

February 10th, 2025

Alright, not gonna lie, I’ve been feeling kinda sharp lately. Like, my head’s clearer, and I’m getting more stuff done at work. My boss Emily even said my presentation didn’t totally suck, which is rare. Oh, and I actually ironed my shirt today before work. Don’t know why—just felt like I should look decent. Weird, right? Maybe these pills aren’t total BS. I don't know why, but I've been thinking of wearing a tie to work...

March 12th, 2025

So get this, man: I bought a suit over the weekend. A whole grownup suit and a tie to go with it. I dunno know why, but I just felt like stepping up my game for my presentation at work today. And man did I look good. I got so many compliments on my fit. It honestly felt really good. My bros thought it was weird and so do I, but now that I have it I guess I'll use it at another presentation in the future.

April 15th, 2025

Something weird is going on. I heard some chick at work talking about her church today. Instead of scoffing and rolling my eyes, it made me, like, think a little. Like I got curious about it. I don't know what's going on, but I might have to check it out sometime.

Speaking of work, I've been wearing a tie more and more. It feels... right. People seem to notice too. I get so many compliments about them. I went back to the store and pick out a whole bunch of different colors. I may be the only guy in the department wearing one, but standing out isn't a bad thing I guess.

May 18th, 2025

Alright, so… I went to church today. Yeah, me. Blake, the proud atheist. Walked past St. Mark’s on the way to grab Starbuck's, and something just made me stop and go in. The music was kind of awesome, and the pastor’s talk about purpose hit me harder than I expected. I don’t even know what’s happening to me, but I’m starting to think there’s more to life than what I’ve been living. I might go back next week to see what I've been missing, but I'm not sure yet.

June 30th, 2025

This morning, I prayed. Like, actually prayed to God. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, but it felt… good. I’ve also started reading bits of the Bible over the past week. There’s some deep stuff in there. Work’s going great, too. I’ve been mentoring one of the new guys, and Emily says she’s impressed with my leadership. Suits are now my everyday thing. Who knew dressing sharp could feel so right?

July 23rd, 2025

I’ve been pulling away from my old friends. Their whole sarcastic, edgy vibe just doesn’t sit right with me anymore. Instead, I’ve been hanging out with people from church who share my interest in self-improvement and faith. I’m even thinking about joining a volunteer group at the church. Life feels more meaningful now. My mind still feels so clear too. I don't know what this pill is doing to me, but it's working.

August 11th, 2025

I’ve been reflecting on some big ideas lately: responsibility, tradition, family values. They make so much sense now. I’ve also started watching a few commentators online who align with these views. Their logic is compelling. Honestly, I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. It’s like a veil has been lifted. Why should abortion be legal? Why should we violate the second amendment with gun control laws? Why do gays think thy can decide how the rest of us live our lives? So many questions I'm learning the answers to. I never paid much attention to politics, but maybe I should.

September 7th, 2025

Sunday service has become the cornerstone of my week. I’ve officially joined St. Mark’s and volunteered for their community outreach. Pastor Williams’s guidance has been invaluable. I’m entirely committed to this new path. My wardrobe, my habits, even my worldview have all transformed. I’m proud of the man I’ve become. I've said this a million times already, but it just feels right.

October 20th, 2025

Today is my birthday, and reflecting on this past year astounds me. My former self seems like a stranger. I’ve embraced faith, order, and purpose, and it just feels right. I got my hair cut to be a lot shorter than I once had it as a special birthday gift to myself. It feels more appropriate for my new image.

I had some friends from bible study over for a small party. I wore my best suit for the occasion. We played games, ate good food, and prayed of course. There was a riveting debate on the role of faith in politics. All in all, it was a good time. I can't believe how much my life has changed just in 10 months.

November 30th, 2025

Today was the final day of the trial. The scientist leading the study asked me all sorts of questions, from my conservative views to my faith in God and my new sense of style. I'm not sure what it all has to do with a mental focus pill, but I didn't feel like asking questions. I'm sure they know what they're doing. Anyways, I better get going. St. Mark's is having an event today to celebrate God and all of His glory. I wouldn't miss it for the world.

December 1st, 2025

The Red Wave trial has concluded with a 100% conversion rate among participants. Subjects exhibited profound and permanent shifts in personality, behavior, and worldview. Pre-trial skepticism and liberal inclinations were entirely replaced with conservative, faith-based identities. This case highlights the pill's efficacy in aligning individuals with structured, traditional conservative values. Further research will examine long-term societal impacts of widespread application. More subjects needed.

#lib to con #liberal to conservative #atheist to christian #transformation #male transformation #suit and tie #preppy tf

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no-144444 · 2 months ago

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A Christmas Prince (2017)- c.leclerc

₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

summary: When a young aspiring journalist is sent abroad to cover a a coronation, she hears rumours about the 'Prince of F1' and goes undercover to investigate them.

pairing: prince! charles leclerc x fem! reader

9.8k words

disclaimer: i do not own anything in these films, the only original character is the character y/n.

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

You jumped up from your desk as soon as you saw him, and trailed him through the office. “Excuse me, sorry- Ron?!”

He turned to you. “Not now.”

“This will just take a second, I just have some questions about your article? The fashion week piece that I’m editing?”

He groaned, clearly uninterested in giving you the time of day. “Go for it.”

Nevertheless, you continued on. How could someone who makes so many noticeable mistakes have a higher job than you? How could someone so self-centred and rude be in that position of power? “The main problem is that Max wanted 300 words, and you’ve written 600, and also the models and designers you quoted weren’t even at the event so…”

“Y/n,” he sighed, putting a hand on your shoulder. “I don’t have time for you right now, just go off and fix it? Yeah?” he smiled, that punchable, asshole smile, and walked off. You rolled your eyes.

Working as a journalist bitch was not your plan when you moved to New York, but alas, your rent does not magically pay itself. Categorically, you enjoyed your job. Decent pay, good co-workers (minus asshole Ron), and it was pretty cool to be in one of the high-rise offices of New York, especially around Christmas. But… the whole getting to write articles part wasn’t something you got to do. You were an editor now, not a journalist. It was… slightly infuriating to know that someone less qualified got paid more money to write shit that you always ended up rewriting for him, but as we mentioned before, bills don’t pay themselves.

“Let me guess, you’re going to completely rewrite the article and save his ass?” Damon, your best friend, asked.

You faked a smile. “It’s almost like that’s my job!”

He rolled his eyes. “Tell him to shove it,” he scoffed. “Any of us could write that better- with our eyes closed!”

You groaned as you sat down.

“How the fuck are you ever going to be taken seriously as a real journalist if you are such a good editor?” he added. “He’ll never promote you if you’re always going to stay as his bitch.”

The ding of your laptop ended the conversation

Max wants you in her office- NOW!

“Oh fuck,” you said under your breath.

“What?” Damon asked, looking over your shoulder. “Oh… good luck.”

You walked into her glass office, praying to something to make this as painless as possible. “If this is because of Ron’s article-”

“It’s not, sit down. I have something else for you,” she smiled. You followed her instructions and stared at her, unused to the kindness. “What do you know about the Royal Family of Monaco?”

“Monaco?” you wracked your brain. “The King died a few years ago, the new King just got married, and the other two are racecar drivers, right?”

“Exactly, anything about the second eldest Prince?” she mused.

You grimaced. “He’s more loyal to Ferrari than his girlfriends and he’s a royal disgrace?”

She grinned. “Yes! Exactly that! Obviously, Charles moved off from the royal duties a long time ago, but Lorenzo has decided to abdicate since his fiance has fallen ill, in Monaco there’s a rule that the throne can be uncrowned for one year and it turns out Lorenzo abdicated in December last year.”

“So Charles has to take the throne?” you asked. “But he’s a driver there’s no way he’d… what happens then?”

She smirked. “That’s exactly what you’re going to find out! His Royal Highness is due back at the Castle this weekend, but in case he also abdicates, I need someone to write on it! There’s a press conference on the 18th, and I want your boots on the ground!”

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but why me?” you smiled, genuinely curious.

“You’re intelligent, talented, hungry for a story- also none of my regular writers are willing to give up their Christmas,” she admitted. You nodded, knowing you were a last resort.

“Thank you for this opportunity, I won’t let you down.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

“He’s gorgeous!” Damon fawned over the pictures of him.

You shrugged. “He’s such a douche, I cannot believe people still find him attractive after all the stuff he’s done.”

“Who wouldn't forgive a face and body like that?”

You looked at the photos. Yes, he was conventionally attractive, but his track record of scorned girlfriends, and the semi-awful fashion sense (who , over the age of 12, still wears tie dye jeans?) put you off. “He’s not my type.”

He stared at you. “He’s everyone’s type. Everyone is a Ferrari fan, and everyone is a Charles LeClerc fan.”

“I still don’t see it,” you shrugged.

“You should try to seduce him! Make him your husband and just excuse all the cheating so you can be royal and rich,” he suggested.

“I do not want that,” you scoffed. “Plus, I’m not on the market right now.”

He groaned. “You two broke up a whole year ago. Don’t let him yuck your yum 12 months on!”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You walked into Rudy’s, your dad’s diner, you couldn’t but feel the weight of the conversation you were just about to have. You had spent Christmas as just the two of you every year since your mom had passed, you didn’t want to just leave him alone. The regulars raved about the pies as you stepped in from the cold, snowy air.

“The usual?” your dad asked, you nodded and smiled, waving to some of the regulars you knew. “How are you doing sweetie?”

“Good, great!” You smiled, plastering on your best ‘i’m fine!’ face.

“What happened?” he asked, concerned. You deflated.

“I have good news and bad news,” you explained.

“Bad news first,” he decided.

“I won’t be here on Christmas- but, It’s because I got my first story.”

He grinned, pulling you into a hug. “That’s amazing! Your first real story! This is your big break!”

“You don’t mind that I’ll miss Christmas?”

He shook his head. “This is your big break, take it. Don’t worry about me. You go over to wherever, and you make me proud.”

You smiled, pulling him into another hug, and thanked him.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

The flight was long and uncomfortable, thus the joys of economy, and the dickhead that stole your cab wasn’t much nicer either.

You and the rest of the press were all then bundled into cars and brought to the palace.

“First time?” The reporter beside you questioned. You nodded your head, slightly embarrassed about the fact that they could tell, but he just chuckled. “Word to the wise, pick a new career.”

The rest of the car was an eruption of laughter, small agreements, or a scoff. You chuckled along, but you couldn’t help but feel small. You were the only woman in your car, the only new reporter, and-

Woah. Holy shit.

The Monaco Palace.

Any and all other thoughts were pushed to the back of your mind as you stared in awe at the beautiful structure. The wide windows and beautiful pillars, all decorated perfectly for Christmas. Though it wasn’t snowing (like back home), you did appreciate the gesture of making it feel like Christmas. You were enchanted by the palace, it stood tall on the edge of the bay, fitting in perfectly with the rest of the gorgeous scenery.

You walked in behind the rest of the press, a nervous energy buzzing in the air. Prince Charles was an F1 favourite, a master of the sport, and now he had to give it all up for the crown. Everyone was more than excited to see if he’d actually show up, which seemed increasingly unlikely as the moments ticked away. He did every single piece of press Ferrari or the FIA asked him to do, and he seemed to enjoy the majority of them, but the second the palace asked him to do something, he was ‘too busy’. It left a bad taste in your mouth. You were exactly a patriot, but you thought that one should at least appreciate the fact that they were a part of their country, and the people deserved to hear from their Prince, not only through sports interviews. He’d been photoshopped into the palace's Christmas cards for the past 4 years, for god’s sake.

You pushed your opinion of him to the side and turned your attention to the palace. The tall white walls and arched ceilings, the beautiful and historic artwork hanging off the walls, god, you’d give anything to be allowed free reign in here with your camera. Your attention was then grabbed by the PR liaison, Penelope, standing at the panel desk looking increasingly nervous.

After another 30 minutes of waiting, the repress started getting restless. Lorenzo was never late. Hervé had never been late. Pascale was never late. Arthur was never late. Charles was the outlier. He slept with too many women, drank too much, and ‘disgraced the crown’, according to the Monegasque reporters beside you. You didn’t care much for all of the gossip pages he frequented, and only watched F1 on the occasion that your father wanted to watch it. But, it was clear that he thought that following his dreams of being a racecar driver were more important than his duties, and while you understood the push and pull of having a dream, there were also expectations to meet, and he didn’t meet them.

“We regret to inform you that this press conference has been cancelled-”

She was cut off by about 200 reporters shouting and groaning.

You politely raised your hand, and all eyes turned to you. “When can we expect the press conference to be rescheduled?” You asked and the room was alive again, this time, in agreement.

“As of right now, we won’t be rescheduling,” she offered a polite smile as everyone collectively groaned again.

“Well can we at least expect a date at which he’ll be crowned?”

“He will be crowned on Christmas Eve, at the annual Christmas Ball,” she smiled.

“Which is a private event, so what are we to tell your people? They can’t see him getting crowned as their next king? No media are allowed in, no cameras, phones are barely allowed. What will your people think?” you questioned, your voice dripping with condescension. The rest of the reporters cheered you on, no one had stood up against his behaviour before. No one.

She faltered, and then the room started being cleared by security, much to the chagrin of the rest of you. You were kicked out, a collection of grumbles and groans, knowing Christmas was ruined because of some stupid Prince and his childish antics.

You couldn’t go home empty handed. You’d never get a chance like this again, so breaking and entering into the Monaco Palace wasn’t that bad of a crime, right?

You came into a long hallway, the marble walls and floors taking your full attention, until you came across a picture. It was the royal family, a picture of the five of them, taken before Hervé passed. Charles was only 20, Arthur was only 16. Lorenzo was 29. And they lost their father. In the photo, they’re sitting at a dinner table, looking happy. It didn’t look posed, or professionally taken. It looked like it had been taken on an iphone. Charles was smiling bright, his arm around his little brother and his father. Lorenzo’s arm around Pascale as she held Arthur’s hand. Charles was truly the thing that dragged you in. His bright smile, eyes crinkled at the edges, laughing so hard he must’ve felt sick. The way everyone else’s eyes were on him. He was like a magnet. Not because of his good looks or lovably dorky personality, but because of something else. He was just… interesting.

“Can I help you?” a security guard asked, his voice booming and strong. You jumped.

“Gosh! Sorry, umm-yes-no-um-”

“American?” he asked, and you were sure you were busted. But then he smiled. “Follow me.”

You followed him through the halls until you were in front of a tall woman with brunette hair. You knew who she was, her name was Georgia, the palace coordinator. She was terrifying to stand in front of. You’d never felt so judged in your life.

“You’re the new tutor?” she questioned. You just nodded. “I thought you couldn’t come until January?”

“My last job finished up early,” you lied. A sinking pit in your stomach started growing, but you just swallowed it. You’d deal with it later.

“Oh,” she smiled. “Perfect, I’ll bring you to meet him,” she smiled.

What were you getting yourself into?

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Turns out Arthur LeClerc needed a tutor to help with his engineering course. Thank god you’d dated that engineer who wanted to mansplain every single part of a car to you, and you could get by the maths with a calculator. Arthur wasn’t exactly a fan of having someone younger than him tutor him, he felt stupid, you could tell. You did everything you could to reassure him that it truly was alright to need help, and he was starting to come around, but every time you two really started talking, Charles would appear. And yes, Charles had been that asshole who’d taken your cab at the airport. Even more of a reason to hate him.

“Arthur!” Charles called up as you finished explaining a sum, which he was finally getting, but of course, Charles had to distract him. “Sim work?” he offered, popping his head in the door. You frowned. He was clean-shaven, unlike the small goatee and mustache he’d been sporting before. Objectively, he was attractive either way, but you personally preferred the facial hair.

He frowned back at you. “What?”

Arthur attempted to get up to join his brother, but you held him down to his seat with a hand on his shoulder. He sighed.

“What?” you repeated. “Arthur is busy with lessons, your Royal Highness, you can come back in 2 hours, when he’s finished,” you smile politely, though your tone was less than warm.

“2 hours?” Arthur sighed, looking at you with pleading eyes.

“I’m not the one who failed their midterm,” you said, matter-of-factly. He nodded, agreeing.

“Why did you look at me like that?” Charles smirked, walking into the study.

“Like what?” you asked, engrossed in the work, trying to decipher Arthur’s handwriting.

“Like you didn’t like what you saw,” he mused.

You scoffed. “I was just surprised by the baby face, that’s all.”

He frowned, making Arthur laugh. “Baby face?”

“You look like a 12 year old boy without facial hair, it freaks me out,” you pointed out.

Charles left the room with whatever dignity he still had intact, and you and Arthur rather enjoyed the teasing.

“Will you be my guest tonight?” he turned to you, discarding his work.

“What’s tonight?” you asked.

“Some boring drinks and dinner thing with the whole of Charles’s team, and other nobility. It’s going to be such a chore to go without you, please come?”

You smiled. “I’d be honoured.”

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You kind of hated the whole ‘double agent’ thing. You were getting on really well with Arthur, Charles was enough to stomach (in small intervals), and Lorenzo had been too busy to really meet. Georgia had been on you about different things, but you always had to remember that a) your name was in fact not Y/n, but Martha. And b) You still had to be a reporter. You still had to break into these people’s privacy, and make it a story. You were pretty sure what you were doing was illegal in America, so you were just hoping it wasn’t a crime here. As the night went on you snapped pictures of Pascale, Lorenzo, some of the other nobility and some of the important F1 drivers (a friend was doing an expose on one of them for cheating so… yeah). You didn’t catch a glimpse of his Royal (pain-in-the-ass) Highness all night, that was, until he made an(uncharacteristically (not)) late arrival. You also left Arthur to go hang out with his girlfriend, who had surprised him this weekend by arriving a whole week early.

“How are you enjoying the party?” Arthur smiled, walking up behind you as you tried to take photos of the nobility as secretly as possible. You quickly hid your phone.

“Very much so, thank you for inviting me,” you smiled.

“Staring at Charles?” he questioned, noticing how you’d been following him around the room.

“Trying to find something to eat,” you lied. Again, that pit in your stomach grew every single day that you were at the palace. “Not a fan of the meat-jelly.”

He grimaced. “Me neither, follow me.”

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Possibly the best gingerbread cookies entered your mouth soon after. “Wow,” you nodded, and he smiled back. You stared at him. “Where’s Jade?”

“She’s off with her friends,” he answered, but you knew it was a guess.

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? You hated me three days ago,” you chuckled.

“You’re not like everyone here,” he shrugged. “You’re normal.”

You smiled. “I know I’m, normal, btu so are you-”

“A ‘normal’ 24 year old who has a palace and a crown, as well as an affinity for racing cars. I’m so normal.”

You laughed. “No one’s perfect.”

Then a tall man, who looked a little bit like Arthur, joined you.

“Cousin Arthur,” he smiled.

“Cousin Simon,” he sighed, less than impressed with having to see him.

Simon looked at you, slightly confused. “Was your mother feeling charitable, inviting the chambermaids again?” he joked, but it wasn’t funny. Arthur didn't laugh, he groaned.

“She’s my tutor, actually. And I invited her. Mrs. Martha Whelan, meet my cousin, Simon.”

You stood up and held your hand out to be shook, but he shied away. “Nice to meet you Simon.”

“You can address me as Lord Dukesburg,” he explained, taking great offence. Ah, this was Simon Dukesburg, the man who has been after the throne since Arhtur’s father died. He said some of the most out-of-touch shit about Lorenzo, saying he couldn’t be the King because he wasn’t Herve’s blood-related son.

“I find that nobility who require someone to use their title might be compensating for something,” Charles interjected, making you stifle a laugh, whereas Arthur laughed out loud.

“And what might I be compensating for?” he scoffed.

“I wonder,” Charles smirked. Then someone else interjected the conversation and pulled the both of them away from you and Arthur.

“Simon hates Charles,” Arthur explained. “He’s ahead of him in the succession, since it goes by age, not actual blood relation, he’s ahead of me.”

“So if Charles abdicates, Simon has the throne?” you questioned.

Arthur nodded. You looked up at the two men again, and found Charles already looking back at you. You offered a small smile, which was returned, then you turned back to Arthur.

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“I'm really not sure there’s any dirt here,” you sighed, explaining it for the millionth time to your boss.

She wasn’t having it. You ended the call feeling even worse than before. Honestly, you were one day away from just leaving the palace all together and admitting your crimes. It was eating you up inside, you could barely sleep, barely eat. It was all a little bit too much for you. You understood that reporters had to be cut-throat, but god, it was hard work pretending to be someone you weren't, especially to people as kind as the LeClerc’s. As you walked through the halls of the palace, unable to sleep, you heard some piano music. You followed the sound and found Prince Charles at his piano, incredibly talented. Sadly, it ended the second he noticed you, about 30 seconds of you being there.

“Sorry for interrupting, your Royal Highness,, I’ll head back-”

“Call me Charles,” he smiled.

Slightly blind-sided, you weren’t sure what to say. “That was beautiful,” you smiled.

“Thank you,” he smiled, getting up. “My father made me take lessons. It’s a great passion of mine.”

“I’ve heard your father was a great man,” you smiled.

“He was,” Charles agreed..

“Won’t be easy to replace him,” you mused, hoping he would give you something, anything worth writing the story over.

“I’m not trying to replace him,” he explained. “No one could.”

“Oh god! No, I didn’t mean it like that- just… there must be a lot of pressure on you, I didn’t mean it…” you trailed off and he smiled.

“Well, you’re under more pressure than you bargained for, right?” he smirked.

Shit. He knew. Somehow. He knew. You were bout to get arrested by the fucking Prince of Monaco. How embarrassing.

“My brother can really be a handful,” he chuckled.

You took a deep breath. He didn’t know. You were safe, for now at least. You chuckled. “He’s actually pretty great.”

“After our father died, he took it very hard,” he explained.

“I lost my mom, same age and everything,” you explained, a flat smile on your face.

He nodded. “So you know what it’s like then.”

You nodded. “Holidays are the worst.”

“I’m glad he has someone to talk to.”

“So, now that you’re back… is it for good? Arthur talks about you all the time. He misses you when you’re gone. Is all that talk about abdication just… rumors?” you questioned, feeling like the worst human being in the world for manipulating this family the way you were. They were good people. Maybe yes, they’re rich and commit tax fraud, but good people.

He sighed. “It’s very hard to know what to do.”

FUCK!

Great. So there is a story. Ideal. It’s not like if he’d just said, ‘yes, they’re all just rumors’, you could’ve gone home and never had to think about the awful things you’ve done here, but now you have to stay, to listen to him. Great.

“I heard you didn’t want to give your… lifestyle,” you asked. “Is that true?”

“What lifestyle is that?” he scoffed, slightly amused.

“I don’t know. The women, wine, and cars?”

“Is that what you think I am?” he chuckled.

“I don’t know who you are, Charles, but if your brother is any indication, I wouldn’t exactly believe everything I read. Good night.”

And with that you left the room, feeling like a terrible person, and he was more than intrigued by you.

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Christmas Eve rolled closer and closer, and every night seemed to be one of celebration. You decorated the tree with the family (aka you sat in the corner not eating or drinking because of the guilt, and watched over Arthur, making sure he was alright).

“To family and friends,” Pascale smiled.

“And new friends!” Arthur called, lifting your hand. You smiled at him, thankful that you had a friend there.

“What are your traditions Martha?” Charles asked, turning attention to you.

“Well, my father and I light a candle and we bake my mothers favourite cookies,” you explained, a smile on your face. “I know how it feels to… have someone missing during traditions,” you assured Arthur, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Just then, Lady Sophia appeared in the doorway. Lady Sophia, Charles’s childhood best friend and the leading lady of the greatest will-they-won’t-they story of all time. She wore a beautiful long flowing gown with a present in hand for Pascale. She elegantly dodged cousin Simon’s advances (you applauded her for that), and went straight to Pascale and Charles.

“Sophia, it’s lovely to see you,” she smiled, pulling her in for a hug.

“It’s lovely to see you too,” she smiled, then moved on to Charles. “Charles, good to see you.”

Charles greeted her with his best flirty smirk, and Arthur turned to you, fake gagging, which made you both laugh. All eyes turned to the two of you for a moment, before you quickly shut up, and the greetings continued. Lady Sophia was staying for Christmas, how wonderful. Maybe you could get an early access to their engagement story- god you felt sick with yourself.

You turned to Arthur engrossed in the small toy car he had in his hands, a gift from his father, he spoke about it as you listened, barely noticing Charles over both of your shoulders.

“I remember when you first got that,” he chuckled, ruffling Arthur’s hair. “You were so happy with it, you wanted to be just like dad.”

“Now you are,” you smiled, squeezing Arthur;’s hand. He’d be moving up to F1 next year, in a Haas seat (Esetban Ocon shit the bed, oops), and Arthur was the next best Ferrari junior driver. Arthur beamed back at you, and Charles gave himself a moment to study you.

You were so gentle, so smart, so kind, so… you. He was entranced by you. You were some sort of enigma. He didn’t want to sound full of himself, but women did throw themselves at him, it was a simple fact, and you didn’t. You weren’t interested in him at all, in fact. It was refreshing.

“Charles!” Lady Sophie called. “Will you put my ornament on the tree?”

He (begrudgingly) took his eyes off of you and joined her at the side of the tree. Funnily enough, her ornament was a heart.

“Be gentle with it,” she told him, and he sighed, knowing it wasn’t just the ornament she was talking about.He placed it on the ree and when he looked back at you, you were already engrossed in conversation with Arthur about something else and he thought it best not to pry. You barely liked him as is, he shouldn’t push his luck.

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The day you get bossed around by Arthur LeCerc may actually be the biggest joke of your life. He found out that you were a journalist, and he didn’t even care. He just… wanted a friend, and for you to write the truth about his brother. Which you were happy to oblige.

So, instead of going over aerodynamics, you baked Christmas cookies.

“What’s with Charles and Lady Sophia?” you questioned, shovelling some of the batter into your mouth. Arthur shrugged.

“She’s had a crush on him for ages, but he’s never liked her back,” he shrugged, eating some of the icing. “She’s always trying to get with him though.”

“Simon seems to like her,” you pointed out, shooing him away from the icing (he’d eaten half of it).

Arthur groaned. “Simon has wanted everything Charles has had since they were 3. He even tried go-karting. He was shit though,” he chuckled. “But y’know, everyone wants what we have.”

You cracked a smile. “You are the royal family of one of the most beautiful countries in Europe.”

Arthur sighed. “It was different though, before my dad died, it was-” he cut himself off, trying to to cry. You pulled him into a hug.

“He’s not gone Arthur, you’ll always remember him,” you smiled, he nodded against your neck. “Come on, we need to get these in the oven before I eat all of the batter.”

He laughed, joining you beside the oven.

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The next morning was the children’s fundraiser, where everyone was expected to be a guest. You, again, were Arthur’s, Jade having left a few days earlier to spend time with her family. One of those asshole reporters came up to you, but he got them away, and you knew that by tomorrow, people would already assume you were his new girlfriend, or something along those lines, so you made sure to tell him to talk about Jade in interviews. After the wonderful carol service, Pascale came out to the stage and addressed the public, announcing Charles’s speech.

When she called his name, he didn’t show.

Arthur sighed, grabbing your hand and running you to the Orphanage. There he was, playing with the children. He looked so… happy. He was telling them about every corner in the Monaco Grand Prix, and telling them what it felt like to win it. They all sat around him, listening intently, desperate to hear from him. You took out your phone and took a photo, seeing a tiny glimpse of that same 20 year old boy from the picture.

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“Charles, help me understand why you were unable to carry out your duty today?” Pascale asked, exasperated with her son.

“I thought my duty was to those children,” his words bit through the tension in the air.

“There is much more to being kind than simply compassion,” she sighed. “You need to be strong, a leader. You need to be someone that those people can look up to and say, ‘that’s my king, and he can make the hard decisions’. Not someone who tiptoes around his duties like a schoolboy. Arthur had to give your speech instead. Now every outlet thinks your abdicating and giving the throne to him right when he’s on the cusp of his dreams-”

“I have dreams!” he shouted. “I have a life, I have a dream-”

“And we gave you 8 years to make it happen. You have to grow up now Charles,” she commanded.

“Mother I-”

“Do you seriously think you’re the only one who wants to run away?” she questioned. “The only one who has dreams, and feelings, and a weariness about everything?”

“I’m-”

“This has been the hardest year of my life,” she choked up. “Lorenzo abdicating, you off in god-knows-where racing a car that can’t win, and Arthur trying his damndest to make his dreams come true, while I deal with it all. While I ‘hold down the fort’. You have a duty to your country, but you also have a duty to your family, Charles. I have complete faith in you, and then some. You will be a brave, and compassionate King. But you need to realise that sacrifice is a part of life. One we may have shielded you from, and I am sorry for that. But you need to make a sacrifice here. Royal life isn’t the prison you make it out to be. You can be happy, and you will be. But you need to learn to be happy with what you’ve got, because you have so much Charles. You have your family, you’ll meet someone nice and then you’ll have your own. You don’t need to race cars to feel strong. You need to be yourself. The people of Monaco are looking for someone they know after a year of confusion and shock. You need to be the comforting voice. I know you can be.”

“I’m trying,” he whispered.

“I have faith in you. You need to have faith in yourself. Don’t try to be your father, be Charles. He’s just as wonderful.”

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Arthur wasn’t going to focus, it was 3 days till Christmas, and he was kind of like an over-excited child. You suggested an adventure, and that is how you ended up racing speed boats with Arthur and a few of his friends. You two won, of course, and he may or may not have accidentally shoved you overboard and made you hit your head. But you were probably fine. Probably. You two relaxed on the water for a while, enjoying the Monaco sun asn the sun began to set and all of his friends went home.

Then you felt something hit into the edge of your boat. Another speedboat. Driven by none other than Prince Charles.

“Race you?” he smirked at his brother, his eyes then landing on you. He stopped, almost doing a double take when he saw you in your swimsuit, his mouth opening slightly. You didn’t seem to notice. Arthur did and he rolled his eyes, hoping against hope that Charles and his master-manipulating ways would pass you by and go onto the next person.

“You’re on!” Arthur shouted back, reeving up the engine, and thus the great race of speedboats began. Sadly, once again, Arthur LeClerc is very much not coordinated, so he shoved you off the boat, again. Charles immediately slowed down, turning back to grab you, but he found you laughing. He reached a hand in, and pulled you up onto his boat, grabbing your waist when you almost slipped and fell. You were close, much too close. You could feel his breath on your face, his eyes staring into yours, the look of shock, but neither one of you was asking to stop. It was different, a good difference. He was right there, right in front of you, and you didn’t look at him with annoyance, or anger, or distance. One of those fleeting moments of the both of you truly just being yourselves. Well, you were Marha and he was the Prince of Monaco, soon to be King. He saw every freckle on your face, every small wrinkle line, every flutter of your eyelashes. He loved it. He loved being this close to you. He loved the way you were smiling at him, and once he’d started looking at your lips, he couldn’t stop.

Arthur threw a snorkel at the two of you, making you jump apart, you almost falling off the boat again (actually your fault that time), but you just fell into Arthur’s boat. “No fraternising with the enemy!”

And the race was back on.

Unbeknownst to you, Lady Sophia and Duke Arsehole (aka Cousin Simoin), were riding by on a perfectly sublime boat ride, and saw the three of you enjoying yourselves. You had joined Charles' side, winning against Arthur every time, and then you’d be swapped back, or Arthur would swap.

Lady Sophia didn’t like it one bit.

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When you got back to the palace, Lorenzo was standing at the top step of the stairs, his mother beside him.

“Where have you three been?” he demanded.

“Lorenzo, we were-” Charles began.

“Speedboat racing in the bay?” he finished.

The three of you stood there, silent and still, unsure of what to do next.

“I suggest next time that you ask permission, Ms. Whelan,” he addressed you, and you nodded quickly offering multiple apologies. “And next time, maybe include the other members of the family. It’s not like we've never raced in our lives,” he smiled, before walking off. You had a feeling they hadn’t seen Arthur this happy in a long time. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in you, that you had been the one to help him get himself back.

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Arthur was busy with his duties, so you were given the day off, the day before Christmas Eve. You needed to get to know Charles better, so you could right all the wrongs online about him. He was going for a bike ride, so you followed suit, clearly forgetting about the fact that you knew nothing about Monaco, and the limited cell-service was really helpful. Oh, and when you fell off your bike and cut the shit out of your knee, you really wondered whether it was you or Arthur who was clumsy.

“Are you alright?”a voice called out, a voice you couldn't quite place, until Charles was in front of you and taking a look at your knee. “This looks bad, come with me.”

He helped you up, and while Mont Agel was beautiful, you were in the middle of fucking nowhere, what was he going to do?

Bring you to his secret cabin, of course.

Literally, was this dude James Bond?

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You sat outside on his patio as the sun set. He handed you a glass of water. You thanked him.

“So, now that you’re alright,” he smiled (he’d bandaged up your leg despite the thousands of times you assured him you were fine). “Why were you following me?”

You sighed. “I was curious about Monaco, and I didn’t want to bother you,” lie after lie after lie. You were continuously sick. Maybe that other reporter was right, maybe you did need a new career.

“You couldn’t bother me,” he assured you, an easy smile on his lips.

“So what is… this?” you asked, gesturing to the house. “James Bond hideout or?

He laughed. “No, nothing interesting like that. This is just my house,” he smiled.

“So you’ve lived in Monaco the entire time?” you asked.

“The Palace is a bit too much for me at times,” he explained. “So I come here.”

“That’s nice,” you smiled. “Why do you find the Palace too much?”

He sighed. “Everyone is always looking at me.”

“Everyone is away looking at you in F1 too, you have like, millions of fan-girls,” you giggled.

“That’s different,” he argued. “I’m a driver there, that’s talent and hard work, I was just… handed the throne.”

“You were born into it,” you corrected him. “And just because you came across something easily doesn’t mean you haven’t struggled. I mean yes, it’s a lot of responsibility, but why wouldn’t you want to be King of Monaco?”

“Do we have to talk about this?” he sighed, getting up and pacing the patio.

“It might be good for you to talk it through,” you told him.

“I can’t even go for dinner with my friends without it being an international scandal!” he groaned.

“Like, when you went out with Sophia?” you mused.

“That was different, she sold a story to a tabloid, and the media had a field day,” he sighed, slumping back into his chair.

“The media is what’s holding you back?” you questioned, feeling your stomach twist.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“Explain it then,” you smiled gently.

He looked at you for a moment, and for a fraction of a second, you could see that boy from the picture again. The magnetic, messy, smiley boy his parents had adored. The boy who worked so hard to prove himself. Then those walls went right back up and what replaced him was the man; older, wiser, and hurt. “Why bother? You probably think I’m just a spoiled rich kid anyway.”

You scoffed. “I never said that!” you argued, getting up and turning to him. “You know what you need to do, stop worrying so much about what everyone thinks of you, or how they’re going to perceive you. You’re a good person, with good instincts, and despite being actual nobility, you have morals, good ones, the kind that makes you miss a speech because you’re helping children. The kind that makes you worry about your little brother so much that you come home when he asks you to. The kind that makes you kind. Stop trying to be your father Charles, just be, Charles.”

He sighed, standing beside you. “You make that sound so simple,” he scoffed.

“Why isn't it? You’re a smart, talented, caring person-”

“Except when I steal your taxi,” he smirked, making you roll your eyes. He paused for a moment, his eyes shining in the low light of the sun. “I want to show you something.”

You stared at him, grimacing slightly. “What is it?”

“Follow me,” he said, taking your hand. He led you through his house, up to a room filled with books.

“You read?”

“After my father died,” he explained. “We kept some of the overflow of his habit here. He also kept his journals here. I found a poem, it was dated just before he died, I think he was going to give it to my mother.”

Frost a sparkle in the fields,

Twixt the frozen minarets,

Winter’s harvest, wager yields,

Heavy burden’s, the years debts,

P[out from a seed, an acorn’s gift,

Henceforth the truth will flood,

Darkness such a secret bears,

A love far greater than blood.

“It’s beautiful,” you smiled, reading the poem. Charles’s eyes were on you. You were so close, just like on the bat, just like he wished for every single day since you’d come into his life. He leaned in and you didn’t back away. You didn’t run, or lean in either, you were still, your eyes trained on his lips.

Then your phone rang, and off you went to find it. Part of him wanted to grab you back and kiss you, but even he, in his delirious love-filled haze, knew the moment had passed, and he would just have to wait until the next one.

As you two were getting ready to go back to the palace, he left to go grab something from his room. His father’s desk took your attention, and you obliged yourself. Hidden in plain sight was a secret drawer with a stack of documents in it. As much as you hated yourself for it, you took the documents back to the palace with you.

Within those documents you found out a truth, a truth so great, you had no idea what to say. Charles and Arthur were adopted as children.

What the fuck were you going to do now?

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

As you were walking through the halls with Arthur the next day, you saw Lady Sophia and Charles… kissing. Great, barf. Anyways. You had to finish your story, get something on the page, make this torment of a trip worth something. If you broke the story today, you could be out of there before Christmas, and their lives would be a lot easier. You thought about coming clean, but the thought of it actually made you vomit in your mouth. You were lost. You had no idea what to do.

So, you called your dad. What else were you supposed to do?

“Y/n!” he smiled, it was only a phone call but you could tell. “How are you?”

“Hey dad, remember how you said I have to take chances to win?” you asked.

“They are my words to live by,” he chuckled, understanding that something was going on. “Is everything alright?”

“What if that chance is going to really hurt people who don’t deserve it?” you questioned.

“I’m going to need more than that sweetheart,” he sighed.

“My story, if I release it, it might hurt someone who’s already been through a lot. I’m just…” you trailed off

“Sweetheart, I’m not going to sit here and pretend I know anything about the world of publishing and reporting, but I do know that you have to trust your gut.”

You smiled. “Thanks dad.”

“I’m better than a fortune cookie, right?” he joked and you both chuckled. “I’ll see you soon sweetheart.”

“Bye dad-” as you hung up the phone, there was a knock on your door. You tentatively got up and opened the door, only to find Charles on the other side, dressed in a Ferrari branded suit, a small smile on his face.

“Hi, is there something I can do for you?” you asked, slightly awkward and unsure. You didn’t really want him to look in your room too much, considering the documents of his adoption were literally on your desk, but alas, what would be, would be.

“I thought we could go for a walk?” he offered. “I can actually show you around Monaco, now that I know you want a tour guide.”

Your smile faltered. “I don’t know,” you sighed. The media had been stirring everything up ever since the boat, you were the ‘mystery girl’ being passed around by the LeClerc’s, and it didn’t feel great.

He looked at you with pleading eyes. “Please, just give me a few minutes of your time. I would like some company.”

“Sure, let me grab my coat,” you smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

As you two walked through the streets of Monaco, he spoke freely about the beautiful buildings and people he knew so well, while you listened. You liked it, but it broke your heart slightly, to know that you had lied to the entire family for weeks now. But another part of you was grateful that you got to meet them, because you knew you had been changed for the better. It was also nice to see Charles be less… upset than when you first came. He smiled more, laughed more, and spent more time with Arthur, it was lovely to see.

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes darting around your face as you looked at the pavement. “Are you alright?”

“Do you often take the help for a walk?” you questioned, your tone soft but the words bit at him anyway.

“What?” he questioned.

“Nothing, it’s stupid. Go back to your story Charles,” you sighed, walking on.

He grabbed your hand, turning you back to him. “Please talk to me. I feel like you know everything about me, and I know nothing about you.”

“What would Lady Sophia say if she saw us walking together?” you scoffed.

“Why would that matter?”

“I saw you two,” you said.

“Whatever you saw, trust me, there is nothing there,” he pleaded.

“It didn’t look like that to me,” you scoffed. “And anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

“She was just… taking her chance again, even after I explicitly told her not to.”

“Sure,” you nodded. “It doesn’t matter anyways. Charles.”

You were both silent for a moment. He took the opportunity to study your face. The way your eyebrows creased, the tightness of your lips, the determined stare forward. He smiled. You were so smart, and headstrong, and right all the time (which kind of drove him crazy), but he loved it all. He loved you.

“I hope you’ll come tomorrow night,” he admitted. You looked at him confused. “The Ball. My coronation.”

You couldn’t do it anymore. You had to tell him. He couldn’t keep living this lie, and neither could you. “Charles, I need to tell you something-”

But he kissed you. Of course, he fucking kissed you, because he’d been wanting to do it since the day you arrived at the palace. He was in love with you, if he hadn't made that obvious enough, and yes, he kissed you, because the fact that he hadn’t yet was driving him mad. He didn’t want Sophia, he didn’t want anyone else, he wanted you.

And it was everything he could’ve dreamed of. His arms circled your waist, pulling you close to him, while his lips explored your soft ones, the taste of cherry on them. You must use some sort of cherry lip balm, and it quickly became one of his favourite tastes. Your arms slowly crept up to wrap around his neck, and when he pulled back you just pulled him back in.

This was the real Charles. The one who loved people unabashedly and didn’t care what people thought. This was that 20 year old boy in the photo. This was the boy you had slowly fallen in love with, without even realising it.

And it was wonderful.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

Much to your chagrin, while you were off tonguing the next King of Monaco, Lady Sophia and Cousin Arsehole were busy looking through your things. Unluckily for you, they found something.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

Charles sat in the driver’s seat of his Ferrari, half willing himself to man-up, and the other half begging himself to turn around. He couldn't though, not when he was this close to finally visiting his father’s resting place for the first time in months.

He got up and out of the car, your voice in his head telling him to get over himself, with that soft, perfect, smile on your lips.

He walked up to the grave, determined to speak to his father once again.

“I’ll take the crown,” he whispered, his eyes flooding with tears. “I’ll never measure up to you, but I will take it. For you and for mom.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You stood in your room, wondering what the fuck one wears to a coronation.

Arthur stood in the doorway, smiling brightly. He frowned when he saw your dress.

“It’s this or pyjamas,” you dead-panned. He walked in, taking the dress out of your hands and sitting on your bed.

“How’s the story coming along?” he asked. “Nearly done?”

“Almost,” you huffed, laying beside him.

He sighed. “I’ll miss you when you go,” he admitted, more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him. You almost forgot how much he’d been through, his sunny demeanour always seemed to make you forget his troubles. “It was nice to have a friend.”

You turned to him. “I’ll always be your friend,” you smiled. “And I’ll be cheering you on in Haas, and in everything else you do. I think you’re brilliant Arthur, seriously.”

He chuckled. “Thank you. I hope everything goes well for you back in New York.”

“I hope so too,” you teased, wiping a tear off his cheek.

“I got you something,” he smiled cheekily, handing over a small box.

“Arthur!” you scolded. “We said no gifts!”

“There was no way I was following that,” he chuckled. “Open it!”

You slowly opened the box, inside there was a beautiful necklace with a beautiful blue topaz on the end. “Oh my god Arthur, this is beautiful,” you whispered.

“To remind you of the boat day” he grinned. “So you will never forget me.”

You smiled, your eyes cloudy with unshed tears. “I could never forget you, Arthur.”

Then in walked Jade, his girlfriend, with an array of gowns on a rack.

“Oh no,” you whispered.

“Oh yes!” Arthur cheered.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You stood at the top of the steps, terrified of what anyone would say. Arthur had styled you (aka, Jade let him pick the dress) and while you thought you looked beautiful, you were slightly worried about what the nobility in the room would think. It had been fun though, an afternoon of being pampered and becoming friends with Jade was a lot more enjoyable than it was nerve-wracking. You slowly descended the steps, looking for Arthur, when Charles caught your eye. He looked beautiful, his hair perfectly styled, his suit perfect, his face perfect. He smiled up at you, excusing himself from his mother and brother to take your hand as you left the bottom step.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled, taking in your dress. IN all honesty, there wasn’t a word for how he thought you looked. Regularly, a look from you made his heart stop. This? A different level. He was enamoured. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, even if he wanted to.

You felt your cheeks heat. “Thank you,” you smiled. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “I will see you in there, alright? I have to-”

“Do what you need to Charles,” you chuckled. “I’m not running away at midnight.”

He smiled. “I’m glad.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

Despite the fact that it was a royal ball, it was quite entertaining. Different Duke’s and Duchess’s were dancing, letting loose, and getting pretty drunk, but you just sat with Arthur and Jade and laughed at them. The ballroom was magnificent, the tall ceilings and Christmas lights all around, and in the centre of the hall there was a 36 foot (yes, about the height of a telephone pole) Christmas tree, decorated perfectly. Even though you were miles and miles away from home, it was still nice to be celebrating with people you love.

As you were speaking to Jade, someone started speaking.

“Might I have the first dance, mon amour?” Charles asked, barely above a whisper as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

You turned to him, your face dropping. “Seriously?”

“Well, as long as you promise not to tread on my feet, we should be alright,” he chuckled, leading you to the dance floor. You joined on, doing a simple waltz (you thanked your father mentally for making you take ballroom classes as a child), and it was very sweet. It was nice to be so open about being close to each other, no longer shying away from each other's affections. You liked having Charles so close. He liked having you in his arms.

Win-win.

“I wanted to thank you,” he said as you waltzed around the hall. “I wouldn’t be accepting the crown if it wasn’t for you, so thank you for telling me to grow up.”

You chuckled. “I think you’re giving me too much credit there.”

He shrugged. “I do not think so,” he smiled. “You make me feel comfortable, you’re the most genuine person I have met since… well probably since birth.”

Again, that nauseating feeling in your stomach urged you to run away and hide from him, even though your heart (as mad as it sounds) longed to never let him go. “I have to tell you something.”

He nodded. “You can talk to me about anything.”

As he spoke, the music stopped, and it was time. He would be crowned King.

“Tell me after,” he whispered, as all eyes went to him. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

“I dispute this claim!” Lady Sophia’s voice shocked the room and you. Charles was so close, so close to taking his rightful seat as the King, and of course, someone had to make it difficult.

“On what grounds?” the Archbishop asked.

“The grounds that he is in fact, not the rightful heir,” she smirked, smug as ever. “Prince Charles, and his brother Arthur, were in fact adopted by the late King Hervé and our Queen Pascale, therefore are not of the blood of the Royal family, as per this document.”

The certificate was taken from her, and shown to the Archbishop. “Where did you obtain this document?”

“I obtained it by uncovering a scheme by an American journalist, Ms. Martha Whelan, or should we call you Y/n Y/l/n?”

All eyes went to you as the room was full of gasps.

You knew you should've turned tail and ran, you knew you shouldn’t have stayed on when Arthur found out, and you knew you shouldn’t have fallen in love with the Prince of fucking Monaco. You were the dumbest person you’d ever met.

You didn’t dare look at Charles, knowing what his expression would be. You just looked down.

“Is that true, you are a journalist?” the Archbishop questioned.

You spoke confidently, though the regret was evident in your voice. “I am.”

The room was in upheaval. Everyone was angry, everyone was confused, and everyone needed an answer.

“And your Majesty, this certificate?”

The room went silent as Pascale began to speak. “It is legitimate.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You were running out as quickly as humanly possible, trailing just after Charles.

“Charles, please, just let me explain-!”

“Explain what?” he spat, turning to you.

“I’m sorry. I never meant for anything like this to happen, and I understand that you never want to see me again. I just had to tell you I’m sorry, and the only reason I kept it up was for you and Arthur.”

“And you couldn’t have told me?!”

“Arthur made me promise I wouldn’t tell you,” you sniffled.

His face dropped. “He knew?”

You nodded, wiping away your tears. This wasn’t for you to be upset about. This was your mistake, and you couldn't fix it.

“Why wouldn’t he let you tell me? Did he know he was adopted?”

You shook your head. “He doesn’t know. And I don’t know why he wouldn’t let me tell you. I just… he asked me not to.”

He stared at you for a moment, and it wasn’t those same, shining eyes that made your heart leap. It was the cold, dead, reserved eyes that made you want to run away and never come back, that stared back at you. “I’m glad you have your story. I suggest you stay out of our lives from now on.”

And with that he walked on.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

New York was colder than you remembered. You had decided to just go straight to your apartment, turn off your phone, and binge watch shitty reality tv shows until you could show your face in public again without wanting to sob every time you saw something that remotely reminded you of Charles and Monaco.

But something nagged at you. The acorn, the poem, ‘a love far greater than blood’. You didn’t understand it. So you spent about 12 hours working on deconstructing it, and you thought of something. Maybe it was your delusions after not sleeping for a day (or two), but maybe the acorn ornament could prove something, so you sent your findings over to Arthur, hoping they would make sense, and turned your phone back off, blocking all of their numbers and falling into a very needed sleep.

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

The next few weeks were full of clearing out your office (you quit), looking for a new job, and starting off as an actual journalist, not just cleaning up some sleaze work. It was nice, peaceful. Writing articles about things that mattered to you, things that would help people, things that weren’t a certain King of Monaco.

Life was good. Getting over your heartbreak was hard, but you were starting to believe that you might actually be alright.

You sat in your dad’s diner, ready to ring in the New Year, when there was a snowball thrown on the glass, and when you looked outside, there he was.

Quickly, you ran outside. “What are you doing here?” you questioned.

He shrugged, “I never got to say goodbye, or thank you.”

“Please don’t thank me, I honestly should be apologising again and again for what I did, I am so sor-”

“You opened a door that should’ve been opened years ago. Arthur showed me what you’d done. Half because I couldn’t believe he could do it on his own, and half because… I thought it was going to be a message from you. You blocked me…”

“I didn’t want to risk bothering you anymore,” you sighed.

“You’d never bother me,” he smiled, pausing for a moment. “Arthur misses you. So do I.”

“I miss you both too,” you smiled. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Y’know, a palace is a lonely place for a king, when he has no queen,” he admitted.

“It’s a good thing you’re an eligible bachelor then,” you chuckled. “Good night Charles, thank you for coming to see me-”

“I love you,” he confessed. “You made me a better man- you make me a better man. I don’t even want to spend time without you, do you understand that?” he asked, getting down on one knee and revealing an engagement ring.

You frowned, your eyes tearing up. “Charles, I am not nobility-”

“I don’t care,” he smiled.

“My entire life is in New York-”

“We can come back as much as you want.”

“What will the people think?” you sniffled, and he stood up, wrapping his arms around you.

“They’ll think you're a kind, caring, beautiful woman with a very intelligent mind, and brilliant ideas, who is loved very much by their King,” he whispered, then pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.

“We barely know each other Charles-”

“And yet I’ve never been more certain in my life. And I’m known to be indecisive-”

He stopped talking because you’d started kissing him.

Jesus Christ, you were going to be the Queen of Monaco, what a story that was.

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

a very f1 christmas! masterlist (2024)

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

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osachiyo · 1 year ago

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sugar daddy!chuuya who absolutely adores you. you're so so sweet to him, such a good girl; never disobeying him, being so nice to him, not being a brat, never testing his patience— you're just so perfect. Always giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before he leaves for work. That's why he loves to spoil you; buying you all kinds of luxurious items to keep you happy. Taking you on sweet little dates every weekend, brushing you off when you ask if it's too expensive— telling you he's got the money for it, why not spend it on his most prized possession, you?

He loves to spoil you in the bedroom as well; you're his pretty little pillow princess, taking everything he gives you and more. Your legs would be hiked up on his strong shoulders, his face buried in your plush cunt as he moans from your sweet taste on his tongue. Gloved thumbs spreading your pussy apart as he spits on it and it's downright nasty how he licks everything back up, the lower portion of his handsome face dripping with your essence and he loved it.

sugar daddy!chuuya who would buy you so many sets of the prettiest lingere, only to rip them off your body later, promising he'd buy you new ones later. He'd give you his black card, telling you to buy anything you have your eyes on, no matter the price. The only price you have to pay is that pretty body of yours, that he loves kissing, licking and touching.

sugar daddy!chuuya who'd take you shopping whenever he's free, offering to buy entire stores for you, all for you. He'd find you so cute, so eager to try on new clothing and showing it off to him, only to get your brains fucked out in one of the changing rooms, all while wearing the brand new dress you wanted to show off. His hands pulling down the straps of the overly expensive dress, exposing your neck and chest to him. Making you look at your debauched self in the mirror; your pretty lipgloss smudged from the rough kiss you shared earlier, pretty love bites covering your smooth skin, hair pulled back in a makeshift ponytail as he drills himself into you nice 'n good.

sugar daddy!chuuya who has you suck him off underneath the desk of his office. Holding your head down,making you swallow him fully as he tries to have a conversation with his boss on the phone, whispering how good you're for him. His shoe would be grinding against your clothed cunt, ruining the pretty pair of panties you wore for him.

sugar daddy!chuuya who has you in a full nelson infront of the huge window in his office, cooing at you for being so cute,so pliant 'n soft for him to ruin. Promising that he'd buy you a car after this, voice slurred and sultry as he became drunk off the feeling of your pussy sucking him in. You'd eventually be pushed up against the window, nipples hard from your tits pressed up against the cool glass as he splays a large hand on your back, arching it so nicely for him as he plows into you from behind.

sugar daddy!chuuya who suddenly feels his heart speeding up whenever you talk to him, even look at him with those pretty doe eyes of yours. He follows you around like a puppy now, eager to have your attention on him. You suddenly have one of, if not the strongest and most dangerous man in the mafia wrapped around your pinky.

©ambrosiaa— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

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thisapplepielife · 7 months ago

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Written for @steddie-week.

Reach Out and Touch Someone

Steve dials the number messily scrawled on the scrap of paper. He’s nervous. He’s always nervous when he has to stick his neck out and make a move on a girl these days.

Yeah, he did the first bit of legwork and got her number out at the bar last night. But he's fumbled the ball and failed enough times, Robin's loving, but accurate, "you suck" burned in his brain, that he's always leery to try again. He should be used to it by now, but it’s still uncomfortable and awkward, every goddamn time. If his friends weren't all fretting about his emotional well-being from being so terminally alone, he wouldn’t put forth half the effort anymore.

He has Robin. He has his cat. He's happy.

It rings three times before he hears it connect, “Hello?”

It’s a man’s voice, and he hesitates for just a moment, “I’m looking for, uh, Lyla?”

“Sorry, man. Wrong number.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must have misdialed,” Steve says, a different kind of embarrassment. But this is one he can handle easier, for sure. So he pushed the wrong button somewhere along the way. His eyesight isn't the best thing he's got going for him.

“No worries, man,” the other guy laughs, seemingly carefree about being bothered.

They each disconnect and then Steve reads, and re-reads, the number before dialing again. More carefully this time.

It rings only once before it’s connected.

“Still me, dude,” the familiar voice relays, still light and friendly.

“Wow. I’m so sorry. Clearly, I was given a fake number. That's embarrassing,” Steve laughs, because this is more embarrassing than misdialing. He's uncomfortable and mortified to admit that this girl just didn't want him to call her. Even if he's only admitting it to a stranger.

She should have just told him no. He hates that she didn't, for her sake, too.

“Shitty move,” the other guy answers.

“Yeah, well. I'm sorry I bothered you. Again. I promise to cross-check any future numbers against yours before dialing, just in case.”

The guy laughs, "Well, now. Don't go to any trouble for my sake. Honestly,” and he doesn't sound put-out at all, “don’t worry about it. She clearly didn’t have the balls to just, be, like, honest. That sucks.”

Steve laughs, maybe if she'd had balls this wouldn't have happened at all. Most men feel more comfortable just saying no, he thinks, which is sad but true. He swings both ways, and maybe he should take this as a sign to lean the other way for a while. See if that works out any better for him.

It probably won't, but he could try.

“There goes my big weekend plans,” Steve teases, uncertain why he does it, even as the words tumble out of his mouth. He needs to hang up the phone and let this guy get back to his own life.

“Dude. That's a problem I can solve. I’m gigging tonight. You have to come. Let me entertain you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Whatever. I want to. Just show up. It’ll be a great story, will it not?”

It would be a great story. One he could even tell Robin to convince her he’s living a little, “I don’t even know your name. What if you’re a serial killer or something?”

“Yep, that’s me. Vicious killer,” the guy laughs, “I’m Eddie, man. And I’m a fucking ball to be around. You’ll want to take me up on this awesome offer. We’ll all be down at Hellfire Club around eight. Show up. If you think we’re murderous, you don’t have to follow us to any secondary, secluded locations.”

Hellfire Club is literally two blocks from Steve’s apartment. He's been past it countless times, but never inside. It's always dark. Like it's not even open, making him unsure about what kind of bar it is, it's so nondescript from the outside. Not to mention the name is a little intimidating. He'd half-convinced himself it's a BDSM club.

But, now that he's been invited, he could just walk down and see what’s the what, “How will I know which guy you are?”

Eddie laughs, “You’ll know. Trust me.”

Steve has a hard time trusting anyone new these days, but Eddie seems friendly enough.

Steve realizes he must have been quiet for too long, because Eddie starts talking again.

“I’ll have on a badass battle vest. Look for that. You'll see me. It's impossible not to. I promise.”

“Okay,” Steve agrees, even if he’s not sure what a battle vest even is.

“Now, are you going to tell me your name, or will that just be a surprise?” Eddie asks.

Steve laughs, “Steve. I’m Steve.”

“Well, I’ll see you later, Steve.”

Steve stands in front of his closet for far too long, trying to find something to wear that doesn’t look too nerdy. He assumes Eddie's cool. He sounded cool, and Steve may have been cool in high school, but these days he just keeps his head down and goes through life, content to be fairly unnoticed. He finally settles on a black t-shirt. Basic, classic. Timeless.

Boring.

But that's a risk he's willing to take.

He walks down the street slowly and arrives around eight-thirty. The windows are still all blacked out, tinted to the point he can't see anything inside. There's just the neon sign with the Hellfire Club over the door.

When he pulls open the door, he's in a hallway that's painted all black, with a bouncer at the end, stationed at a door. Steve kind of wants to turn around, flee, but he doesn't. He's already here. He might as well at least see. Robin will kill him if he chickens out.

He gives his ID to the bouncer, and is directed down a staircase. He really hopes this isn't a sex club.

It's not.

And as soon as he crosses the threshold into the bar, yes, he knows Eddie instantly. He’s gotta be the one on the bar, pouring shots directly into various mouths. Steve knows he could turn around right now and this adventure could end. But watching Eddie laughing and prancing up and down the bar with flourish, clearly having fun, makes Steve want to go up and meet this guy.

Steve takes an open seat at the end of the bar, kind of out of the way, and just watches Eddie work the crowd.

The bar is blaring It's Raining Men and Eddie is playing up the song, big time. He's not a stripper, at least Steve doesn't think he is, but he's working the crowd for tips, absolutely. He keeps handing them down to a curly-headed guy, who keeps stuffing them into an overflowing jar.

Steve's pretty sure this is a gay club, or at least queer friendly. Maybe he has found a place for himself, something that's been right here under his nose, all this time.

When Eddie finally jumps down off the bar, Steve watches him work the rest of the room.

The other guy comes over and takes Steve's order, and he doesn't quite have the same flourish, but he's efficient and confident with a bottle and jigger.

"Name for the tab?" he asks, shaking the drink Steve had picked from the list.

"Steve," Steve says, and the guy looks up and meets his eyes.

Surely not. This doesn't feel like this is Eddie. He is wearing a vest, a red plaid one, but the other guy also has a denim vest on, full of patches.

"Eddie?" Steve questions, needing to make sure.

"Gareth," the guy says, "that's Eddie," he clarifies, pointing at the one Steve had correctly clocked as Eddie to begin with. "You're his wrong number guy, right?"

Steve nods. He supposes that's what he is, "Yeah. That's me. Loser in love."

Gareth laughs, and it makes Steve smile.

"That's our specialty here, you'll feel right at home," Gareth teases.

"Glad to hear it."

"I'll tell him you're here," Gareth assures, "he wasn't sure you'd come."

"That makes two of us," Steve admits, and Gareth smiles as he finishes shaking Steve's drink, putting it down in front of him.

"On the house. First-timers to Hellfire drink free," Gareth says, and then he's walking away.

Steve's eyes follow Gareth across the bar, watching as he taps Eddie on the shoulder, leaning close to his ear, pointing right at Steve.

Eddie looks, meets his eyes, and Steve raises his hand, giving him a small, little wiggle of his fingers.

A huge smile spreads across Eddie's face as he bounds in Steve's direction.

Eddie's quickly right in his personal space, squeezing both of Steve's shoulders, greeting him with a smile, "Welcome to Hellfire."

Steve smiles, liking the feeling of Eddie's hands bleeding through his t-shirt, warming him.

Eddie lets go, and Steve misses the feeling already, but Eddie stays. Sliding onto the stool next to Steve, "I'm glad you came."

And Steve's completely honest as he answers, "Me too."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddie-week and follow along with the fun!

Notes: If you're too young to remember it, reach out and touch someone was the slogan/jingle for Bell System telephone company back in the day. So, that's where the title comes from, as a play on the wrong number phone call trope.

#steddieweek2024 #day seven #free space #wrong number trope #meet cute #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #steddieweek #steddie #thisapplepielife: steddieweek #thisapplepielife: short fic

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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♦️Pardon The Way That I Stare♦️

Chapter 8 of That's What You Get

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Summary: After some encouragement from Emily and Penelope, you try to explain your reaction to Reid at work. Until you find yourself reacting to him more and more, distracting you from doing your job. Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, Reader is just really horny for Reid (REAL). A/N: We're getting closer to the climax and I'm SO beyond excited for everyone to read the next chapter because I think it's going to be so good but also so evil and I enjoy that very much. If you like the series, let me know by dropping a message in the replies or in my inbox, and follow my other account @reiderslibrary for just fics from me without my random thoughts and bullshit in between... You can find masterlist here, and the series masterlist is linked here!

You were stupid, there was no other logical explanation for it. Staring at Emily on your doorstep as your brain stood there, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, trying to process the words she’d just said to you, there was really only one thing running through your brain.

“I’m a fucking dumbass.” you groaned, your hands coming up to your head as you pondered your next move.

“There’s no chance that you’ll believe this was all just one practical joke that I’ve been playing to test how quickly you could turn up at my place with wine?” You looked up hopefully at Emily, and she returned with a concerned look of her own, that silently communicated ‘No, I wasn’t born yesterday.’

“Worth a shot, come on in.” You opened the door wider for Emily and grabbed a second glass from your kitchen to share the wine before she could start her interrogation.

“So,” she prompted as soon as you returned to the couch, and you sighed heavily as you nodded and began.

“I married Reid in Vegas.”

“Yes, I got that from the text, what I didn’t get was why, what, when, where, who, and how! Question words, Y/N, important information if you please.” You chuckled at Emily’s tone, and you melted a little into your couch. Just like with Penelope, letting others know had comforted you. You’d never been one to bottle up your emotions, and you couldn’t exactly tell Spencer how you felt about him, so your dearest FBI-assigned best friends were a welcome compromise.

“You promise not to tell anyone? Penelope knows, and so does Rossi, but no one else does. Well maybe someone else but I don’t know who that someone is - long story.” You rambled, still aware of the promise you’d made with Spencer, and knowing that you’d actually broken it twice now.

“Scouts honor, now get on with it.”

“You were never a scout.”

“That’s beside the point, Y/N, now spill!”

“Do you remember when we finished the case in Vegas last weekend, and we all wanted nothing more than to go home, but the jet was landed?” A small nod encourages you to continue. “Well, Reid offered to show me this bar that he thought I’d enjoy, and honestly, I’d had a tense phone call with my mom and was feeling a bit crappy, so I thought a drink wouldn’t hurt.”

“A drink might get you married though.” You glared at her at the interruption, and she held her hands up in surrender as you continued.

“The bar was amazing, and he noticed I was feeling down, and I don’t know, he just has this way of making me feel calm and fully together. I was a mess earlier that day, but with like one short conversation, he kind of turned my mood entirely around.” You flushed then and decided to ignore Emily’s next interjection.

“Oh god…”

“Apparently after that, we went to a casino or another bar or something, but honestly, I drank so much I don’t remember any of that. But at some point, we bought a very expensive engagement ring, made our way to the Bureau for Wedding Licences and then a chapel and now we’re legally married.” You tried to end your story there, but Emily wasn’t having that.

“No, you’re not stopping there. You said you kissed, and you ruined everything, and you mentioned a wedding night in that text, do not shortchange me now, Y/L/N. Wait, should I be calling you Reid now?” She grinned at the flush that coated your entire body with that, and you buried your head in your pillows.

“Okay, okay. Well, we’re trying to figure out who the witnesses to our wedding were. We know that two team members were there, and Penelope was one of them, but Spencer doesn’t know that yet. Again, another long story.” You let your words sink in as you realize the tangled mess you’d spun for yourself in the last week.

“We spent some time researching our options on Saturday night, to see if we could get our memories to come back and I might not have left until a couple hours ago?”

“Y/N! You’ve been banging Reid for the last three days?”

“No! No, nothing like that, we didn’t- well, we did just not at his house, but also I don’t think you want to hear about that.” You spilled all the details about your last few days with Reid, his touches, his care, the dates you’d been on, the way you’d wrapped yourself around each other in your sleep, but still woken up to an empty bed, all the way up to that fateful kiss and your stupid reaction.

“So there, I’ve ruined it.” Emily looked at you pityingly and started to say something when your doorbell rang a second time.

“That’s reinforcements,” Emily said, standing and moving to greet the newcomer herself. You were relieved when Penelope Garcia came marching through the door, ice cream in hand and mouth already moving.

“Have no fear, your guardian angel is here. Emily texted me en route and I disentangled myself from my plans with a now very suspicious Derek Morgan to race over here. I think I managed to throw him off the scent by mentioning my ukelele lessons with Sam though, he always kinda glazes over whenever I go into heavy details about that.” She perches herself on the couch beside you and starts organizing things on the table, pulling out three tubs of ice cream and locating adequate spoons in the drawer.

“Pen, you didn’t have to do all this…”

“Yes, I did. Emily tell her I did. I need all the details that you suddenly remembered Y/N or I’m going to go crazy, and let me tell you, I am not an effective tech analyst when my mind is all aflutter with wonder.” You smiled awkwardly at the situation. You’d glossed over the details of your wedding night with Emily, going no further than insinuating that you’d had sex, but now the pressure was on.

“We just want to help you, Y/N. And we’re morbidly curious.” Emily joined in. Both of their eyes were trained on you in a hopeful expression, leaving the ball firmly in your court as you fought down the embarrassment rising from the back of your throat.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath.

“I think it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life,” was all you managed to squeak out before they were reacting, asking twenty questions each in the space of a minute as your body both caught fire at the memory and shrunk down to the size of an ant at the attentions.

“Calm down, calm down, I’ll tell you more but you have to calm down.” They stilled themselves and bit their tongue, and you continued.

“Well I don’t want to get into the, uh, specific details, but let’s just say that he’s very good at putting theory into practice. That or he’s actually very experienced in sex and nobody ever realized, because the things he was doing were like, expert-level maneuvers. I didn’t think I was that flexible until he was hitting from-”

“OKAY not that much detail, this is still Reid we’re talking about.”

“Sorry,” you giggled sheepishly and decided to spare them all the details. “All I’ll say is that we both finished multiple times. And I might have stupidly let him finish inside of me.”

“Y/N, you should know better! Safe sex is really important, especially if you’re fucking in a hotel room in Vegas.” Emily half-chastised you, but you could hear the humor in her voice and just rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly having sex with a stranger, I was having sex with my husband.” That got you a teasing cooing from the two women and you buried your face in your hands again.

“So he’s your husband now, is he? How long have you been married? Like three days?”

“Five. Fuck, we’re running out of time.” The length of time that had elapsed since you’d walked down the aisle shocked you as soon as you’d acknowledged it, and you downed your glass of wine as your brain ran rampant.

“Rossi said that if we didn’t tell everyone in a week, he’d do it for us so we didn’t lose our jobs, and we need to file for an annulment soon so we don’t have to get a divorce but there’s like… a one week window, and it’s already been five days. Shit. shit shit shit shit.”

“Hold on, Y/N, you said he kissed you earlier today, right? I wouldn’t exactly recommend getting married and then dating your partner, but it sounds like you both at least like each other enough to pursue this relationship, why would you need an annulment?” Emily’s confusion only served to remind you of the reason they were both here in the first place.

“That’s the problem. I think he thinks I don’t like him like that. And it’s totally my fault that he thinks that, because when he kissed me I didn’t react well and then he just left, and I think I ruined everything.”

“Define not reacting well,” Emily probed further.

“I pushed him away and slammed the door in his face. But that was only because I remembered everything that happened between us on our wedding night, and remembering the most satisfying experience of your entire existence while face-to-face with the man who you’d hitherto never thought capable of that, and having it occur in like 0.02 of a second is a paralyzing experience.”

“Oh my god, you’re an idiot,” Penelope whispered from her side of the couch and you nodded heartily in agreement.

“And what, he just left?” Emily asked again, tone incredulous with all the information she was receiving.

“Well when I’d had my moment and realized what I’d done, I opened the door again and he wasn’t there. And that was only like a minute later. He messaged me this after he left.” You grabbed your phone and opened it up, showing the girls the message and noting their winces in reaction to his words.

“It’s bad, right?”

“No! No, this is salvageable! You just have to… be brave?” Penelope didn’t seem to believe her own words as you pulled your phone back and poured yourself another glass, ready to drown your sorrows once again. Emily was a little more confident.

“Okay. Here’s what you do. I’m going to talk to Rossi for you tomorrow morning at work, get him to hold off on his big reveal while you go and explain everything to Spencer. How does that sound?”

“That sounds doable, I guess.” You sniffled a little, rereading the text having made your emotions jump back up to the surface again as you fought off tears.

“Brilliant. And then you can stay married and continue having wonderful sex, and make some genius babies and make me their godmother.” You threw a pillow at Penelope that she was just too slow to catch, and filled the rest of your evening with wine, ice cream, and good company.

–X–

Emily sends you a thumbs-up text after she talks to Rossi the next morning, and a weight falls off your shoulder. One step down, one to go right?

You’d arrived at work probably a little bit too early, having spent the night tossing and turning and playing every possible outcome in your mind over and over again. It had been half an hour before the next person turned up, and Hotch had only given you a confused half-nod in greeting before secluding himself in his office. Rossi had been the next to arrive, about twenty minutes later, and he too had questioned your presence but not in so many words.

“Early morning, Y/N? Settling into new routines in your newly-wed life, are we?” You’d stuttered out an answer but he was halfway up the stairs by the time you finished, obviously meaning the comment to be rhetorical.

Morgan, Emily, and JJ were all next, showing up only a few minutes before your shift officially started, but there was no sign of Reid, and you were running out of time - and privacy - to talk to him.

Then at 9 sharp the elevator doors opened, and from your seat at your desk, you watched him step out, feeling your tongue grow thick and your heart beat faster as he made his way into the office. This wasn’t how you were supposed to feel, this was cartoonish like a teenage boy in a brat pack movie watching the hottest girl in the school walk down a corridor. This was Spencer, your husband, and your best friend, and here you were feeling giggly and shy.

You almost felt like texting Emily back, telling her if you started giggling and twirling your hair, to take you out back and put you out of your misery.

He didn’t make eye contact with you as he settled into his morning routine, pulling off his scarf, putting his bag away, and then moving to the kitchen to fill up on his morning coffee. You did your best to covertly follow him, trying not to alert the others to your heart eyes as you looked at him and forgot everyone else.

“Spencer, can we talk?” You blocked off the entry to the kitchen as he spun around to face you, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.

“Sure, Y/N, what’s up?” His voice didn’t betray any of his emotions, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes, and you could tell you’d hurt him the day before. You took a deep breath and walked closer to him as he continued making his coffee, again refusing to look you in the eyes as he continued as normal.

“It’s about yesterday-”

“We probably shouldn’t talk about this here, right?” He cut you off in a whisper, his voice sending shivers down your spine as you gripped the countertop beside him for support. You’d gotten closer than you expected at first, somehow magnetically drawn to him, your body language just as open to him as he was closed to you.

“I think we need to, Spence. I’m sorry, I panicked.”

“No, it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have done that-”

“Spencer I got my memory back.” His eyes widened and he blossomed in front of you again, attention entirely on you now as he took in your words.

“You did?”

“Partially, only the… Only the memories of your hotel room.” His eyes darkened in understanding, moving unconsciously closer to you, placing a hand next to yours on the counter as he effectively trapped your body in.

“Oh. Those memories.”

“Yeah. So you can see why I was a bit distracted.” He nodded at your words, but he was still coming closer to you now. Your body felt weak underneath you, entirely reacting to his closeness, the warmth rolling off his body, the electricity sparking between you despite him not touching you anywhere.

“Distracted?” His eyes darted to your lips as he grew closer, and your legs chose that exact second to give in underneath you.

Your knees hit the ground uncomfortably, as he reacted to your sudden movement, trying to grab you and pull you up, but only managing to grab the hand that was already holding the counter above you, awkwardly twisting and pinning your arm up.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m sorry, I think… I think I should go,” you were face to face with his crotch, and looking up at him in that position was certainly giving you unwholesome thoughts. He jumped back as you scrambled out from underneath him, begging whatever god was out there that none of the profilers you worked with would question the dazed state that would follow you for the rest of the day.

–X–

Despite your need to straighten things out with Spencer, you’d avoided him for the rest of the day, and, having been called out on a case, you spent the better part of the week avoiding him as well. After literally falling for him, you’d decided that maybe in your newly weakened lovesick stage, it was best for everyone on the team that you try to stay as clear-headed as possible.

Not everyone on the team, though, agreed. He’d trailed after you like a lost puppy for days now, and you wanted nothing more than to give in and throw yourself in his arms. But there was a murderer on the loose and you needed to give your entire attention to it.

He’d tried multiple times to get you to help him with some work, suggesting that you go through some files together, or check out one of the witnesses together, much to your discomfort. Luckily, Hotch had picked up on some of the discomfort between the two of you and had kept you somewhat apart, not asking questions.

But the last night on the case, he’d cornered you, and you had to work twice as hard to extricate yourself from the situation.

“Y/N, why are you avoiding me?” He’d caught you alone in the hotel lobby, pulling you into a dark corner without much foot traffic to confront you. “Is it because of the kiss? Because the way you talked about getting your memories back the other day made me think we were okay about that again, but if we’re not then I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not the kiss, Spence, and we really shouldn’t be talking about this here.” You tried to turn and leave, but he grabbed your elbow and spun you back into him, bodies pressed flush up against each other now.

“Spencer let go, someone could see us.” Even you knew your voice sounded half-hearted, not really wanting him to stop touching you at all.

“If it’s not the kiss, then why are you acting like I don’t exist?” His face was close again, and you felt your body reacting the same way it had done in the staff kitchen. Your knees went weak again, but he was prepared this time, holding you up in his arms, gently maneuvering you so you were pinned against the wall.

“Is this it?” He asked, letting his hands trail over your body as you whimpered under his touch. “Your reactions?”

Your brain was empty of a response, so you just held still, desperate to see what he would do or say next.

“You know, the deadline on our annulment has passed. It’s been over a week now,” he said, his forehead resting on yours as he brought his hips ever closer.

You were the one that gave in first, pushing your head up to capture his lips in a crushing kiss, needing him the way you needed water, food, and sleep. You’d deprived yourself for so long, and now you were hungry, ravenous, and he was the same. Your lips opened, and soon his tongue was snaking in, caressing you in ways both familiar and new, and your entire body heated up to its boiling point.

You moaned under his touch as his hands wandered, silently begging for more of him. Your brain only kicked back into gear when you registered the sound of voices about to turn the corner. Quickly pushing him off, you pulled yourself together just as JJ and Morgan found you there.

“Y/N, Reid, Garcia got a positive ID on our unsub, we’re about to go SWAT his house, get your gear ready.”

Either you were very good at masking your emotions and the physical outburst you’d just shared, or Morgan was just too caught up in getting his job done that he didn’t look too closely at the way Reid’s tie was half undone, your lips were pink and swollen and that both of you were breathing abnormally. Whichever it was, you were just thankful that neither of them questioned you as you all left to go and do your job.

–X–

To your detriment, you’d avoided him on the jet back as well, choosing to wrap a blanket around yourself and sit in a single seat at the end of the plane rather than risk his hands on you again like last time. You already couldn’t be trusted around him, and you wanted to take no risks with everyone else present.

He’d sat in your line of vision purposefully though, making eye contact every now and then to remind you that he was still watching you. You’d feigned exhaustion and pretended to sleep in the end, despite the flight duration only being a measly two hours. He’d let you exit the plane alone though, and said a general goodbye to the team upon landing, giving you a second look and wave before taking himself home.

The ball was firmly in your court.

“What the hell was all that?” Emily whispered in your ear as you both watched him leave alone. “What happened to the plan?” You smiled awkwardly, not wanting to admit how fucking horny the man made you feel, and how it was affecting your work performance so badly that avoiding him was the only way to keep your job.

“We had the talk, everything’s fine.”

“The two of you aren’t walking out of here hand in hand, so obviously everything is not fine, Penelope, tell me I’m wrong.” The other woman had stumbled into the bullpen upon landing and Emily had immediately drawn her into your hushed conversation as soon as Morgan had made to go home as well.

“What’s going on, hot stuff, I thought you’d be enjoying every second of your marital bliss by now.”

“He’s too distracting.” You whisper shouted at him. “He kissed me again last night and I almost let him take me in the lobby. And Morgan and JJ almost caught us, so yeah, he’s too distracting.”

“Oh god, you’re horny for Reid.” Emily laughed slightly at the implication as if it had just dawned on her and you hadn’t had an entire conversation where you fawned about how good in bed he was.

“Yes, I’m horny for Reid, okay, now please stop laughing, I’m in pain.”

“Well you know there’s only one solution, right?” Penelope said as if it were clear as day. “You need to go have sex with him again. See if you can be normal with him when you’re not so pent up.”

“I don’t know, Pen….” You were still staring at the elevator doors, even after it had been so long since he’d left.

“What is there to not know? You like him, he likes you, you’re married. Like you said before, it’s not like you’re having sex with a stranger, he’s your husband.” Having your words thrown back in your face gave you the boost of confidence that you needed, and you sprang from your chair.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Emily repeated and you looked back down at the two women.

“Okay, I’m gonna… I’m gonna go seduce my husband, I guess?” You turned on your heel and left, marching out to the sounds of whoops and cheers from the two women behind you.

🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira @danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid series #criminal minds self insert

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unabashegirl · 3 months ago

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Different 13 — college hs

Harry's quiet, routine-driven life changes one weekend when he meets Y/N through a mutual friend at her party. She comes from a superficial, materialistic world with absent parents who believe money solves everything. Despite their differences, something clicks that night, and Y/N can't stop thinking about him.

Author's note: hello everyone,I hope you are all doing well! I wanted to thank everyone who has donated to my Ko-FI "help me pay for medical school". It has really touched me especially how kind everyone here can be. If you are able please please help me. I am desperate. I've run out of options.

If you don't know what I am talking about here is a brief summary: As many of you may know, I’m currently in medical school, only a year away from graduating. Unfortunately, I’m facing a financial hurdle that might prevent me from enrolling this January. My father’s passing due to cancer has left my family in a tough spot, and my mom has been working tirelessly to support me and cover my school expenses. The reason this is so urgent is that if I miss this semester, I’ll fall behind significantly due to changes in the school’s syllabus. The semesters after mine follow a completely different curriculum, meaning I wouldn’t just be delayed a semester—I’d be delayed by over a year and a half. I’ve been thinking long and hard about how I can keep moving forward, and I’ve decided to ask for your help. Any support, whether through donations, or simply spreading the word, would mean the world to me. I’m incredibly grateful to have this amazing community.

--> Ko-Fi link for donations. (You can even donate a $1)

--> Patreon

---> different masterlist <---

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of rape, sexual abuse and physical abuse.

“I am done” Y/N frowned as she shut her book closed. “My brain is going to explode if I continue” Harry smiled as he caressed her back gently. “Can we go get some dinner or something?” She suggested to everyone.

“Keep talking,” Mitch said as he looked up from his laptop. “I am genuinely starving”.

“Can I go too?” Sarah asked, not wanting to interrupt the plans if it was a couples-only plan and she and Mitch had misinterpreted.

“Obviously” Y/N smiled, “I know this place where they sell tacos and burritos close to campus. Does that sound good?”

“So good” Mitch had already started packing, knowing that if he continued studying nothing would stick and he would just be burning neurons for fun.

“I left my car. is it all right if we walk there? Is not that far” They all nodded and started their journey to the food truck that Y/N had pumped up so much.

Y/N had texted James and Sebastian to meet them after their gym session, so she wasn’t surprised to run into them when they arrived.

“There you are” James smiled as he pulled her into a hug. “How was the library?”

“Good” She smiled and hugged him back.

It all happened so quickly that no one in the group had a chance to react. Y/N hadn’t even been able to introduce her lifelong friends to her boyfriend when Brian walked up with his jaw clenched and his eyebrows frowned.

“Look who is here” He smiled as he noticed Harry. Their hands were intertwined, and Harry carried both of their backpacks. “Why are you here, huh?”.

“Brian. Don’t” Y/N hissed she noticed James moving up front to face him. She was nervous about how everything was going to unfold. The last thing she wanted was for a fight to break out between her friends and boyfriend against Brian.

“So, this is what you are fucking, huh?” He poked Harry’s chest harshly, emphasizing on YOU. Harry didn’t say anything and remained quiet. He had no desire to fight. He was also very serene at alarming times.

“You are a fucking idiot” James chuckled as he stepped in front of Y/N and Harry. His body was tense, and he stood proudly with his head up. James had never been a fan of Brian. They were teammates, but Brian always ran his mouth in the locker room and spoke of whomever he was doing. Brian had obviously spoken about Y/N and had referred to her as easy.

“I wasn’t speaking to you. So, I suggest you shut your mouth and get out of my face” Brian commanded him only reminding him of that night. “Before I shut it for you”.

The comment that brought him back to that night. An image and a night that still haunted him. James had been downstairs enjoying a few drinks, celebrating a victory in beer pong. He had also been the first in the room and to think that he had gone to look for them because of a hunch.

--->FLASHBACK<----

People danced against one another to the rhythm of the loud music that made the house vibrate. Sebastian walked past James too intoxicated to even notice him. Earlier they had won a football game which coherently had been celebrated with a party, organized by a sorority. They had arrived with Y/N and like every other party she had disappeared with Brian. James yanked Sebastian by the back of his yellow shirt.

“Bro” Sebastian grind, realizing that it was his best friend. “There are so many hot girls” He breathed then leaned in, “Let’s go get some” he whispered and so his breath fanned James’s face. He could smell the alcohol on him from twenty miles away. Sebastian rarely partied as hard, but he had recently broken up with a girl, which had hurt him severely. James laughed and pushed him back lightly, trying to get his breath away from his face.

“You need a fucking mint. Not a girl, man” James joked as Sebastian threw his arm over his shoulders as they looked through the crowd of people. “Have you seen Y/N?” He asked over the loud music.

“Saw her a few hours ago. She was heading upstairs with Brian. Even she is getting some!” James frowned and couldn’t keep his mind from drifting to the stories that people talked of Brian.

“A few hours?” He asked again, but Sebastian was too distracted eyeing some random girl to answer him.

Something grew within James that night. Perhaps it was an instinct of protection. So, since he was far from shy, he started making his way through people and up the stairs to the second floor. He dodged people and pushed them around in hopes to find her. James looked for her one last time when he was at the top of the stairs but there were so people, and Y/N was tiny, that it was useless.

He eventually gave up and walked up the stairs and towards the master bedroom. He didn’t need to search the other bedrooms because he knew Brian was too self-absorbed to settle for less than the biggest room in the house.

James stood outside the door and thought about it multiple times, but something in his gut told him to get into the room. So, he quietly opened one of the doors and found them.

Brian was holding her and not in the delicate matter that she deserved to be touched and handled. He held her by her hair and his fist was in the air, above her, ready to deliver the third blow to her face. Y/N was looking up at him, drowning in tears and blood. Her hands were trying to scratch her way out of his grip, but she was unsuccessful.

In a matter of seconds, James had gripped him by the back of his neck and had ripped him off her like a band-aid.

“What the fuck?” Brian slurred as he was thrown on the floor. James was finally able to get a better look at Y/N. He would never forget how scared and vulnerable she looked. His blood boiled and was quickly on Brian. James’s fist repeatedly met with his face and blood started splattering everywhere. Y/N cried and screamed as she tried pulling James off, Brian.

“SHIT” Sebastian's drunkenness evaporated in seconds as soon as he walked in. There was blood everywhere and not only from Brian and James but also Y/N’s. Her dress straps were down, and the bottom was riddled up to her waist. Her throat was red from the marks made by his tight grip on her. She had arrived in a tan bodycon dress, but now it had a huge strain covering the front and it had been overly stretched by Brian’s brutality.

Sebastian was finally able to get James off, Brian, but not without breaking a sweat.

“Enough” He yelled as he helped him off the floor. “Look at Y/N. She needs us more than ever” James looked up and noticed the crying mess that Y/N was and how broken she was.

“Is he breathing?” James asked as he approached Y/N slowly not wanting to startle her or scare her.

Sebastian kneeled down by Brian and checked that he was still breathing before nodding back at James, who was taking his jacket off just so he could take his shirt off too. He gathered it up and pressed it against her broken nose then pulled on the jacket to cover his naked torso.

“Fuck baby” he hissed as he watched her wince, “What has he done to you?” He whispered as his eyes watered, hoping that it hadn’t happened before. James and Sebastian didn’t expect an answer from her. They just helped her to pull her dress down and pull the straps of her dress up.

“Please take me home” She begged between hiccups. James nodded but stood back. He felt too dirty of his blood to be able to touch her. Sebastian wrapped an arm over Y/N’s shoulder and protected her body as they both escorted her out of the party. James also gave deadly stares to anyone that looked with the intention of asking what had happened.

“How could this happen?” James whispered to Sebastian after they had comfortably settled Y/N in the back of the car and made sure that she was able to lie down. Sebastian sighed and ran his hands through his air. Still very perplexed by the situation. “God only knows what he would’ve done to her if we hadn’t walked in” he mumbled as he started the car.

“I don’t even want to think about it” Sebastian shook his head, hating the evident pain that Brian had caused Y/N. They could tell that Y/N would never fully recover from it.

Sebastian picked her up and carried her upstairs after parking in her apartment. James made sure to prepare her a bath and they both helped her get her feet in the bath before leaving her to her own privacy. They all took their own independent showers and scrubbed their skin until it was red in the hopes that it would wash away the memories too.

“Hi,” James gave her a small smile as he stood by the doorframe. He had thrown on some pajamas that they kept in her house since freshman year.

Most of the lights were already off, except for the light that the TV emitted and her bedside lamp.

“How bad is it?” He asked just as Sebastian sat down by the feet of the bed. She wore a set of matching pajamas; her pair was wet and brushed back. Y/N was finally clean, but her nose worried her. The bruising had started forming and the blood on her lip had dried up.

“I think he broke my nose” Sebastian inhaled heavily, “It wasn’t good a noise anyway” she shrugged, knowing that her parents would probably pay for plastic surgery to get it fixed as soon as possible.

“I’ll call my dad tomorrow so he can check it out for you” Sebastian’s father was a very prestigious plastic surgeon that had applied multiple Botox injections to her mother.

“You need to get some rest.”

“Please stay with me” She was embarrassed, but she couldn’t sleep alone. Y/N made herself in the middle and cleared space for them.

James makes sure to turn off the TV and the lamp. All three lay in the darkness, but none of them said anything. However, none of them were able to catch sleep.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asked as he grabbed Y/N’s hand.

“I don’t know” James responded and looked over at Y/N.

“You?” he asked as he ran his finger over his bruised knuckles. He knows her answer before she is able to say anything. James could tell that she wasn’t okay and that she was scared. She doesn’t respond to James but only allows the tears to stream down her cheeks. Y/N cried silently for a few minutes until a soft sob escaped her mouth.

So, James turned to his side and gathered her in his arms. None of them say anything or do anything. James just held her for hours until she cried herself to sleep from exhaustion.

Later, Sebastian woke up in the middle of the night and realized that nothing that they had lived that night had been a dream. So, he joined them and threw an arm over Y/N, hugging her and cuddling her from behind.

--> END OF FLASHBACK <---

“I thought I had made myself very clear when I told you to stay the fuck away from Y/N” James stepped up to Brian, “Were you too drunk that night to remember?”

“I could care less what you want me to do” Brian wasn’t going to walk away without causing a scene. People from the university had gathered around them and were closely listening in. Brian didn’t feel as confident to face James’s anger, but he couldn’t back down. People were watching and to Brian, his reputation mattered more.

“I swear to God that I won’t hesitate to break your fucking face in front of everyone” Their foreheads were almost touching, and Brian tried to stand tall, but James was too intimidating, “Step away and go home” he hissed.

Brian raised his eyebrow and tore his eyes from James’s stare. He noticed how many people were around them. He was considering leaving after he remembered how James had left him that night. Brian was actually lucky that James hadn’t killed him. So, he walked away, leaving them alone.

“What the hell was that?” Mitch asked completely taken back by Brian’s unfriendly behavior. “What a prick”. He laughed.

“Sorry” Y/N frowned as she finally looked up at Harry, who had released her hand midway through the altercation.

“I am James” He smiled and shook everyone’s hand, “I’ve known Y/N since birth” He added watching how uneasy Harry was. James could tell that Harry hadn’t liked something and it had been James’s closeness to Y/N. To be fair, James did have a crush on Y/N, but that was way back in high school. He now loved her, but only as a sister.

“And I am Sebastian” he smiled, “So who wants some tacos?”.

--> chapter 14

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persephone1700 · 7 months ago

Text

Please me- Michael Gavey x Reader

Hello! I've been obsessed with all the smut stories I've been reading on this app about several characters… so I've written something I thought of.

Please be kind since English is not my first language and it's the first thing +18 I've ever written ( I kinda took advantage that I was ovulating to imagine the most dirty scenarios and write them hehe)

I plan to divide them in three parts.

I hope you like it.

Warning Tags: 18+ ONLY. Smut, Oral Sex (Reader receiving), Embarrasing himself.

Part 2

It was a Friday evening, and the campus was almost empty. Half the students were either at local pubs, attending parties, or had gone home for the weekend.

Almost everyone, except for Michael. He had stayed behind without any plans, as usual. As a "Norman no-mates" kind of student, he found himself without an invitation to any parties.

He decided the best use of his time was to begin working on the final list of problems he had due in a month.

He didn’t want to be with those wankers anyway.

He had no need to study or even try—math was just so obvious and simple. Yet, he made his way to the library, trying to escape his pristine bedroom for a while.

When he walked into the library, he didn’t expect to see you there, sitting at a table with your bare legs crossed, leaning into the table, focused on a paper you were working on.

Everybody at school seemed to gravitate towards you and your group of friends, thanks to Felix Catton.

Michael couldn’t begin to understand what was so interesting about that damn bloke.

Even his best mate and only friend, Oliver, had found himself enjoying the company of Felix and his superficial group of friends rather than his.

How can anyone be friends with someone who doesn’t even have an ounce of gray matter?

They must all be idiots.

Every one of them. Including you.

He had decided that the first time he met you during tutorial sessions with Professor Ware. He didn't even understand how you ended up paired with him for tutoring—your majors clearly displayed you were opposites, and he liked to think he was the smartest one.

On top of that, he believed people were a mere reflection of the friends they surrounded themselves with. So, what does it say about you if you are friends with the most superficial twat on campus?

No matter how pretty he thought you were, with those plump lips, big eyes and soft curves… You still were a vapid cunt.

...Or were you?

Michael Gavey wouldn't call himself your friend, but unlike everyone else, you never dismissed his presence. You were always quick to challenge his aggressive comments in the classes you shared, often proving him wrong.

Your friends, of course, found it amusing, but you never laughed. He considered you the smartest among them—not as smart as him, of course, but not sharing the same brain cell as your mates.

Sometimes, during lectures or in the halls, he caught himself watching you. Dressed in expensive clothes, you navigated the halls with an air of confidence.

He found your outfits too revealing, almost inappropriate for lectures, yet he was secretly grateful for the glimpse they offered him of your long legs and cleavage.

You were too pretty and nearly as smart as him. And you knew it, which only made things worse.

You seemed to be every guy's dream.

Every guy, including him.

Damn it.

"Michael? What are you doing here?" you asked, noticing him standing frozen in front of you, staring and holding some books.

"Uh… I'm here to finish some homework," he answered bluntly, attempting to head to a corner table.

"Sit with me. There's no one else in here, you know. You may as well just sit here, and we can keep each other company," you said, stopping him in his tracks. He hesitated, then made his way over and sat beside you, almost uncomfortably.

Opening his books, he tried to focus on the problems in front of him, his palms sweating as he feared you might notice the effect you had on him.

"Why aren't you at the party?" you asked, jotting down some notes on your paper, trying to make conversation and lighten the mood.

"Not fucking invited," he said simply, watching as the realization dawned on your face. You both sat there alone at the library, and continued working on your paper in silence.

"Why aren't you glued to your friends? How does studying alone work for your social life?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"Just wanted some alone time. Needed to catch up on the activities, and I was getting bored with them. Plus, it gives me a break from Felix, so I don't murder him when he's a pain in the ass."

"He's been acting like an arse lately, hasn't he?" Michael commented as he picked up another math textbook, flipping through the pages. He wasn't sure if it was true; to him, Felix may have been an arse since he was born, certainly.

"Not more than usual—shagging some girls, getting drunk, and partying. The usual," you said, shrugging as if it were normal.

"And you don't seem to mind his stupid behavior?"

"Why would I?"

"I… I thought you were a thing. I heard a rumor you two were together…" He said, almost embarrassed to admit he paid attention to gossip and social life.

"What?" you snorted at his admission.

"Yes. I'd suppose anyone with a brain would be jealous if their boyfriend was sleeping around with other girls," he said, tightening his grip on his pencil and trying to sound nonchalant.

"Definitely not. We just enjoyed some benefits in the past," you dismissed his comment casually. "We've known each other since childhood; we're not a couple. Sex is a necessity, wouldn't you agree?"

"Uh… I…" Michael was stunned, to say the least. "I…" He tried to speak, to form a response, but he was too flustered and speechless.

"Oh my God," you turned towards him, looking surprised. "Michael, are you a virgin?" you asked in a low voice.

Michael's eyes widened at your words, a red blush instantly appearing on his face. He looked away, trying to avoid your gaze. He couldn’t even deny it.

How could he when it was so painfully obvious?

"N-No!" he lied, trying to keep his cool but failing miserably.

"Have you ever seen a woman naked, Michael?" you asked, smiling with a glint in your eyes at the discovery.

Michael wished he could die at that moment. The embarrassment he felt was so intense that just when he thought he couldn’t blush more, he grew even redder.

"Yes, of course I have!" he responded defensively, too fast as if trying to convince himself. Who was he kidding? He let out a huff and muttered, "No, I haven’t, okay?"

"Why not?"

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, there’s not exactly a line of women trying to get with me, obviously" he scoffed.

"I think you’re cute," you said, smiling at him. He obviously thought you were lying. "So… uh, what exactly do you do to relieve any urges?"

How else?!?

He let out a loud groan at that question, covering his face. He did not want to be having this conversation, yet here you were, asking him the most embarrassing questions.

He leaned back in his chair, avoiding your gaze, and couldn’t believe he was admitting this to you.

"I… have a few magazines and videos…" he mumbled, his face still red. "And I… use them, obviously."

"So… you take care of yourself then. It's perfectly normal and healthy." You smiled, noticing his red cheeks. "Nothing to be embarrassed about. I do it all the time when I'm stressed."

Of course, you knew how he took care of himself; you were not stupid. You had a feeling he was a virgin and a prude, and you just wanted to hear him admit it.

You had taken some interest in Michael since the beginning of the term. At first, he was just a lonely student who was too eager to prove himself better than anyone in classes, commenting on how useless non-math topics were.

It was when Farleigh told you how much Michael stared at you in classes and made fun of him, claiming that he had a silly crush on you, that you started to notice him more.

The way his sandy blonde hair framed his face, the big blue eyes behind the framed glasses, his thin lips always pouting unconsciously as he disregarded everyone else.

You were now too interested in him, and you started to wonder what it would be like to be with him and teach him. To make him eat all his words… and satisfy your curiosity.

"What’s it like…?" he asked suddenly, his voice slightly above a whisper, looking over at you.

"What?" you smiled at him. Michael’s cheeks turned a shade redder, and he cursed himself inwardly for even asking that question. Yet he was too far gone now, his curiosity having taken over.

"Touching a woman…" he mumbled, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Maybe you'll just have to find out for yourself," you shrugged.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" he turned towards you. "You asked me all these weird questions and now you can't answer mine?"

You were slightly taken back by his outburst, noticing the way his cheeks were red out of embarrassment and fury.

"What do you even ask them for? To make fun of me with those suckers?" he snarled.

"No. I asked because if you want to, maybe I can teach you," you said simply, staring into his eyes.

"How?" was all that came out of Michael's mouth as you stood up and quickly gathered your things.

"Come on, follow me." He watched as you walked over to a private study room at the end of the hallway, one of those reserved for group studies. It had a large meeting table and boards.

Understanding, he grabbed his things in a hurry and followed you to the room. He entered, locking the door behind him and glancing at where you were standing, at the center of the room, sitting at the edge of the table.

He walked over to you, trapping you against the table. He stood there for a moment, watching you, not knowing what to do next. So, you moved closer to him, taking him by surprise when your lips pressed against his in a slow kiss.

He closed his eyes, breathing in your scent, his lips kissing yours desperately. He felt it when you took his hand and carefully led it to your breast.

With your hand upon his, you gave it a squeeze and parted the kiss, watching his bewildered expression, the tint of red in his cheeks growing darker.

"Maybe you can finally explore the body of a woman," you whispered. He was too stunned for a moment, as if he was daydreaming, but then you looked into his eyes and nodded.

His gaze grew darker, and he carelessly pushed down your shirt, watching your breasts peek out.

His breath hitched, and you could see how his pupils dilated at the sight of them. His hands slid through your tits as he stared down at them with amusement.

Between his thumb and index, he reached for your nipple and noticed the way you let out a sigh out of pleasure, your nipples growing hard at his touch.

He bent down and started kissing and sucking your neck, leaving small bites here and there, where he thought people would be able to see them.

His tongue started lowering and lowering until he reached where his hands were formerly placed, and his lips started sucking on your nipple, with a free hand he cupped your other breast, moving his fingers in irregular circles.

He focused his gaze on you, and noticed the way a moan escaped your lips.

You were desperate for his touch; he could see it.

He could feel his heart throttling, as his mouth explored every inch of your breasts, the movement of his lips and tongue was a mix between inexperience and pure desire. Your fingers moved to his hair, encouraging him to continue.

"Michael…" - his name escaped your lips in a low voice. - "that feels good, do you want to keep going? "

He nodded desperately, eager to continue exploring the fullness of your body. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Without a word, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was urgent, his trembling hands sliding through the side of your legs until he gripped your ass.

When his fingers brushed the hem of your skirt, you felt a surge of anticipation.

Slowly, almost reverently, he began sliding your skirt upwards, exposing more of your thighs.

He leaned back to admire the view, your breasts on full display, your red cheeks, and the way the fabric of the skirt gathered up your hips.

His hands started exploring the flesh of your inner thighs, tracing circles in his path as his fingers ventured closer to your core, a soft moan escaping your lips as you tilted your head back.

Michael's eyes darkened with desire at the sound, and his hands stilled for a moment, savoring your reaction.

He knelt in front of you, and he watched with amusement the way his fingers traced a path at the edge of your panties, the fabric acting as a barrier between his touch and your core.

He ran a finger through the fabric and felt how wet it was, before he moved it aside and a moan escaped his lips at the sight of your pussy. His gaze met your eyes, almost shily with a question written on them of whether he could go further.

When you nodded, his fingers started touching you, moving his finger up and down slowly, trying to find the place that would give you more pleasure, when his finger met your clit, he noticed the way your body shivered and he focused his attention there.

He started moving his fingers slowly against your bud, and the quiet moans he heard and the way your breath hitched, made him think he was doing a good job, so he started to move his fingers faster, in a painful way.

A whimper left your mouth, and your hand grabbed his, stopping him.

"No. Not fast or it hurts. " - you said between breaths, when he nodded in understanding, you guided his fingers once again against your clit.

Guiding him through the right pace which makes your skin grow hotter.

His fingers started moving with more confidence, finding rhythms and patterns that made you moan.

His name erupted from your chest in a cry of pleasure, and suddenly his touch was not enough, with a hand placed against the table you leaned forward and watched the way his gaze was focused on your core.

His fingers were not enough, you needed more.

You needed him pressed against you, so with your other hand you grabbed his hair and pulled him closer to your pussy, a groan reverberated in your skin, and his lips started sucking on it.

His erection was hard since he entered the room, and as he watched you moaning and pulled him closer it grew painfully hard, the boxers restraining him and making his cock start to twitch.

He thought it would be more painful the embarrassment he would feel if he came on his boxers at the simple sight of her moaning while he ate her up, so he tried to focus solely on her.

He failed...

You started breathing heavily at the way his fingers slither inside you and his tongue moved against your pearl.

Fueled with pleasure your back arched, and your fingers tightened their grip on his hair, pulling him closer. His touch was electric, and your eyes opened, locking your gaze with him... hen he lost it.

His cock started throbbing against his boxers, seizing as he came undone at the sight of you.

#ewan mitchell #ewan nation #michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #saltburn #saltburn posting #felix catton

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juyeonszn · 1 year ago

Text

SWEET

PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 4.61k

GENRES fluff ﹒ smut ﹒ minuscule bit of angst

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, boy next door/neighbor au, reader was in a toxic-ish relationship, juyo is so cute and so sweet, until he’s kinda 😵‍💫 yk?, um kevin and changmin appearances, reader being absolutely irrevocably impossibly down bad for juyeon’s hands, so hand kink lol, making out, vaginal fingering, cum eating…. lol, they get a little sappy at the end

SUMMARY maybe this was for the better. maybe it was okay to let your guard down every once in a while, so long as it was always for your flirty neighbor.

MORE i would like to apologize for putting this out a day late… um i was really busy preparing for my enhypen concert so 😭 not a lot of writing was happening since there wasn’t enough brain juice flowing. anyways. ENJOY <3 pls rb if u did! (ALSO THANK U REESE AND @sungbeam FOR BETAING AND EDITING <<<3 i love y’all sm)

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

If there was one thing you took pride in, it was your keen sense of hospitality.

You’d been raised as the type of girl to always be welcoming when a new face arrived, to be that guiding light for them as they adjusted to all the changes in their life. When you were little, your mother taught you to introduce yourself first, because you never knew if that person was shy or not. Of course, there was the usual ‘Stranger Danger’ pep talk, but it differed greatly from the new friend pep talk.

The first time you exhibited this wonderful trait of yours was in middle school when the foreign student in your class was forced to stand at the front of the room. He wasn’t necessarily shy, but you could tell he didn’t really enjoy being put on the spot, hands behind his back as he said his name and where he was from.

Kevin Moon. Age 13. Vancouver, Canada.

The only empty desk in the classroom was the one beside yours, and that was the golden opportunity to become best friends with the new kid. As soon as he settled into his seat and class had resumed as normal, you leaned over slightly and cupped a hand over your mouth to whisper loud enough that he could hear.

“Hi! I’m Y/N!”

He gave you a small smile in return and from then on, you and Kevin Moon were the best of friends.

The second time you proved your kindness was your freshman year of college. It was still syllabus week, but your professor had sent out an email over the weekend with papers that needed to be printed and brought to class. The guy next to you didn’t get the memo, freaking out over already messing things up on the first day.

You didn’t know him at all, but you felt bad that he was so stressed. In turn, you decided to rip up your own papers. He looked at you like you were crazy, maybe because you were. What idiot does something like that?

You give him a warm smile. “There. Now we’re both missing it.”

All he can do is laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m Changmin.”

“Y/N.”

After that, Ji Changmin came to be another one of your closest friends. It was kind of silly that something your mother instilled in you at a young age had become such a big part of your life. It brought you people who you’d cherish forever. But it also brought people you wish you’d never met.

“Get the fuck out.”

“Y/N, babe, we can work through this—”

“Are you deaf?” Your tone raises and your feet carry you to the front door, swinging it open. “I said to get out of my apartment.”

“We’ve been together for three years. You’re not gonna fight for us?” He pleads, clasping his hands as he stands in front of you.

“Why would I? Why should I stay with someone who doesn’t value me enough to stay loyal?” You seethe, your anger growing in size the longer you glare at his pathetic face. The face of a man you thought would love you until death did you part.

“She meant nothing to me!” He tries to rationalize with you, but you won’t have any of it. You weren’t stupid and you sure as hell weren’t blind.

“Do you take me as a fucking fool, Daehyun? I’ve known for months that you weren’t ‘working late at the office’. She even DMed me and showed me screenshots of your messages. Now get out before I call the cops.” You’re so pissed off that you don’t even realize you’re crying, fat tears trickling down your hot cheeks.

“After all I’ve done for you and all I’ve given you? You’re gonna act like a bitch?” He drops the innocent boyfriend act, backing you into the doorframe.

“Leave, Daehyun.” You say flatly. You’re not gonna give him the satisfaction of crumbling beneath the weight of his words. You knew the truth, you knew what kind of person he truly was after all this time.

He scoffs, grabbing his jacket off the hook beside him and finally storming out of your apartment. You cover your mouth with your hand to muffle the sobs that so badly want to escape. You watch as he bumps shoulders with a stranger holding a box, thankfully not looking back at you.

You make eye contact with said stranger, eyes wide like a child who’d just gotten caught with their hands in a cookie jar. His eyes resemble those of your friends’ when you told them you’d found out about your boyfriend’s infidelity. You both stand there for a moment, an impromptu staring contest ensuing.

Quickly, you snap out of your trance, cowering into your apartment. You vaguely remember the elderly woman across the hall mentioning that someone was moving into the unit beside yours. She had never told you a specific date, though. Had you known it was today, you might’ve expedited the dramatic break-up with Daehyun.

How could you possibly introduce yourself to him after he witnessed that? And in your current state; snot-nosed and teary-eyed? There was no way. You’d just have to postpone that for another day. Hopefully he didn’t mind too much.

“Was he cute?”

“Kevin, why is that what you’re worried about?” Changmin’s mouth pulls into a thin line, smacking the slightly older male over the back of the head. He winces, caressing the spot to ease the pain.

“I wasn’t really paying attention to that when I had just shoved my cheating ex boyfriend out of my apartment,” you push around the ramyeon on your plate with your chopsticks. “I do feel terrible that he had to see that though. But how can I face him after that?”

Kevin taps his chin with his index finger, lips pursed in thought. “Why don’t you bake for him? Welcome him to the complex like the hospitable neighbor you are.”

“That’s not a half bad idea, actually.” Changmin nods, shoveling some rice onto his spoon. The Pisces deadpans and reclines in his chair.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Okay, enough bickering you two. I need you to finish eating so I can start planning what to bake.”

The third time you practice your mother’s life lesson, is the next evening when you’re face-to-face with your neighbor’s door.

Your hands have begun to clam up beneath the warm tupperware of cookies you were holding. Were you supposed to just knock on his door like everything was fine and dandy? What if he wasn’t even home? Maybe you should just leave the baked goods with a note and—

The door swings open to reveal the stranger from a few days ago. However, this time he also wears that expression of shock, cat-like eyes widened. Your mouth moves like fish out of water, not sure what you should say or how you should say it. So you don’t think and you just act, extending the tupperware towards him.

“H-Hi, I’m Y/N, I’m your neighbor,” your speech is a little shaky, but you’re too nervous to focus on that. “I— um— I baked these for you as a housewarming gift to welcome you to the complex. As well as an apology for making you a bystander in my messy breakup.”

His features relax as a smile inches its way onto his face, graciously accepting the treats you made for him. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that. And don’t even worry about it, I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“N-No, you’re fine, I swear! We shouldn’t have aired our dirty laundry so publicly like that. You did nothing wrong.” You wave your hands as if physically dismissing his words. He lets out a little chuckle that warms your chest.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m glad that you left the dude. He sounded like a total asshole,” your neighbor tucks the tupperware under his arm, leaning against the threshold of his apartment. “You seem too nice to settle for somebody like that. From what I’ve seen, of course.”

You don’t know why that has your heart skipping a beat like a high school girl. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he really was cute. He had a boyish charm to him, but not so much so that it overpowered how handsome he was. Kevin was going to have a field day with this information.

“Uh, thank you. I should be getting back to my place now. I have an early day at work tomorrow. Have a good night!” You clear your throat to kick yourself out of whatever stupor you were about to fall into, bowing. As you’re turning on your heel to make the ten foot trip to your own apartment, he calls out your name.

“I’m Juyeon, by the way.” He grins, waving as you push open your door.

“Now that is quite the interesting development.” Kevin snorts, helping himself to one of the raspberry filled donuts you’d just finished baking.

“If you keep eating my product, I’m gonna have to kick you out of the kitchen and out of my bakery,” you chide, swatting his hands away from the baker’s rack. “And how is that interesting in the slightest? I literally gave him the cookies, apologized, and that was that.”

“He was literally flirting with you, Y/N. Changmin, tell her I’m right. Apparently I’m no longer a voice of reason here.” He says through a full mouth.

“I mean, yeah? Kinda? Calling a girl nice is usually guy code for ‘I think you’re attractive and I could see myself sleeping with you’,” Changmin shrugs, tearing off a piece of Kevin’s donut. “But I also see where you’re coming from. You did just meet each other. He could’ve just been trying to console you in a way.”

“Why am I even friends with men when they’re useless?” You throw your head back, speaking to no one in particular.

Perhaps Kevin truly was overthinking the situation. Juyeon seemed to be a kind person who probably didn’t want any problems with his neighbors. It made sense why he’d side with you after witnessing your break up. Besides, the wounds were still too fresh to even consider thinking of anyone else in such a way. No matter how hot they may be…

You’d just have to wait and see for yourself. Only time could tell what would become of the nature of your relationship with your cute new neighbor.

You look insane with everything in your cart, filled to the brim with baking ingredients. It was around 10 PM and here you were, at the grocery store buying the things needed to make cinnamon rolls. Being a baker with a bit of a sweet tooth meant your cravings got a little out of hand at times, forcing you to make drastic decisions. (I.E. grocery shopping so late at night.)

Even your clothing choice was silly: flimsy pajama shorts with Care Bears patterned on them, a baggy t-shirt, and matching slippers. It’s not like anyone cared anyway. And it wasn’t like you were trying to impress anybody either.

But as you’re walking towards the registers, you start to regret your outfit. You very quickly spot your neighbor with a basket on his arm, waiting in line for self-checkout. You feel all the color drain from your face as you stand there, staring like an absolute idiot.

He’s dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants, a hoodie swallowing his figure. He looks so effortlessly good, it kind of makes you upset. Because how are you just now meeting a guy who’s both kind and attractive? As far as you were concerned, they didn’t exist in real life— they only existed in fairytales.

Juyeon looks up from his phone and catches your eye, his hand coming up to give you a little wave and one of those crinkly eye smiles that he does when you pass each other in the hall.

As the weeks have passed, you’ve seen him more and more than you deemed normal. You’d bump into each other on the way to or from picking up your mail, you’d hold the elevator for the other in record time, and you’d even leave your apartments at the same time. Now it appears you’re running into the guy at the supermarket, too. You tried to chalk it all up to coincidence, that you just both happened to be thinking on the same wavelength.

But shyly waving back to him right now reminds you that divine intervention had crazy ways of working its magic. Perhaps those had all just been openings for you to engage in something more with your cute neighbor. And there was only one way to find out.

You psych yourself up as you walk towards him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Juyeon’s smile grows wider as he notices you approaching. “Hey, stranger. What are you up to tonight?”

“Some late baking,” you giggle, wanting to punch yourself in the face for sounding like a goddamn school girl. “I was actually wondering if you’d like to come over and keep me company? Totally up to you of course! I just thought it might be nice to get to know each other properly.”

Your suggestion is what leads the two of you to meet back up at your apartment after purchasing your respective groceries. You attempt to tidy up as best you can while you wait for the knock at your door, setting out all the ingredients on the counter and preheating your oven.

The soft knock comes moments later and you find yourself practically running to open the door, grinning at the sheepish expression on Juyeon’s face. You allow him inside of your apartment, trailing after him into the kitchen. Part of you felt like you were moving on too fast after Daehyun. As a baker, your kitchen was your safe space. It was where you went when you needed to be alone and in the comfort of what you knew best. Kevin and Changmin were the only ones you trusted to be within that element. For you to let Juyeon in— to let him permeate the walls you’ve never let down before, not even with your ex— was brand new territory.

“I almost forgot you own a bakery,” Juyeon speaks up, fingers tracing along the stand mixer. “But seeing all this expensive equipment reminded me of that. It only makes sense that someone as sweet as you would constantly be around sweet treats.”

You fail to bite back your smile. Maybe this was for the better. Maybe it was okay to let your guard down every once in a while, so long as it was always for your flirty neighbor. He laughs when you nudge his shoulder, grabbing all the dry ingredients for the dough.

“On a scale of one to ten, how patient are you?” You ask, avoiding his eyes as you open the flour. The question was in regards to several things.

“I’d say about an eight or nine. Patience is a virtue, you know. It comes easily if you practice hard enough.” He answers, leaning against the counter and watching you.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in, searching for your measuring cups. Both you and Juyeon begin to measure out the dry ingredients, dumping them into the mixing bowl. You decide to let him take some of the reins, folding in the mixture of milk, egg, butter, and yeast. While he does that, you prepare the cinnamon sugar.

“I think I’m done. What do I do next?” He turns to you, head cocked to the side slightly. You might actually die of cuteness aggression. The duality of man would one day drive you to the brink of insanity.

“Now you just knead it until it’s smooth.” Your back is to him as you say this, putting away any refrigerated items so they don’t go bad. But as you face him again, you wish you hadn’t.

Your eyes zero in on his hands, kneading the dough with careful, nimble fingers. You feel light-headed as you slip into a spell, gawking at how long and slender they are, massaging the dough like an expert. How had you never noticed how big and pretty his hands were?

Maybe baking with Juyeon was a bad idea. You could barely focus on anything but his fingers pressing the under-construction-cinnamon rolls into the counter. Oh how badly you wanted to be that dough— his hands all over you, groping and massaging and kneading and caressing everywhere they could reach.

The veins running up his arms weren’t helping either, instead fueling the fire burning in the pit of your stomach. You feel your lips part, eyes glossed over with that all too familiar lustful intensity. You wouldn’t be surprised if you had to wipe away drool after this.

“Y/N?” Juyeon glances up from the dough, a little taken aback by your reverie. He follows your line of sight, grinning to himself smugly when he realizes what has you so transfixed. He’s finally found your weakness, and he couldn’t wait to dangle it over your head. Patience was a virtue, but perhaps it would be okay for him to dabble with a vice for once.

He pushes out the dough, using his thumbs to spread it into a rectangular shape. He feels his blood pressure rising the darker your eyes get. However, he’s aware that you just recently got out of a relationship. He wants to move at a pace you’re comfortable with. So he won’t take the first step. He has to leave that up to you.

It’s at a certain point that you come to, blinking to force away the dirty thoughts plaguing your mind. You travel your field of vision to his face, where you find him already looking at you. Your cheeks heat up in mortification from being caught red-handed. You were just gawking at the poor guy’s like they were a piece of fresh meat. This was terrible.

You swallow thickly, averting eye contact to grab the bowl of cinnamon sugar. “Uh, we can start forming the rolls now so they can rise. And then— um— and then we can make the glaze.”

The burn of his gaze on your profile has you tripping over your words, cinnamon sugar sprinkling onto the counter space surrounding and the knife almost slipping from your grip when you go to cut the dough. Juyeon catches it for you, wrapping his fingers around yours to guide your movements and keep them steady.

You feel his breath behind your ear, his chest pressed to your back. His hand is so much larger than your own, nearly covering it entirely. He doesn’t make an effort to move either, rolling the dough into swirl shapes along with you. The whole time this is happening, neither of you are saying a word, letting the silence consume you and the air around you.

As the rolls are rising/baking, you set up everything necessary for making the icing. Juyeon watches with hearts in his eyes as you whisk the sugar, cream cheese, vanilla, and butter in a separate bowl. He wonders how many other people you let see you in this setting. How many people get to see you do the thing you love so dearly?

“I’d like to visit your bakery sometime, if you wouldn’t mind,” Juyeon suddenly says, resting his elbows on the counter as you taste test the icing. “I wanna try all of the desserts you bake.”

“I’m opening later tomorrow morning actually,” you smile, humming in appreciation when the sweetness of the glaze hits your taste buds. “You can come with me to try the fresh batches before I put them out? I’ll warn you though, I get there at like six.”

“AM?” His eyes practically pop out of their sockets.

“Yes, AM.” You laugh, lightly shoving him backwards.

“I’ll put like ten alarms so I can make sure I’m up in time, then.” He pokes his cheek with his tongue, tipping his head to the side. The goofy smile on your face remains even after minutes have passed and the two of you are just waiting for the cinnamon rolls to finish baking.

It feels like hours have gone by with the two of you standing there when they’re finally ready. The ding of the oven has you springing into action, putting on some oven mitts and taking out the baking sheet. Juyeon's eyes light up and even though you’d just been losing your mind over how insane he was making you, you find yourself cooing at him.

He laughs as you grab a couple spare icing bags for the cinnamon roll glaze, filling them generously. You hand one over to him and decide to split the rolls evenly, icing one half yourself while he does the other. And for once, you think that tonight might end normally. You think that nothing eventful will happen and you’ll just ice the cinnamon rolls without problems.

But you were wrong, like always.

“Ah, shit—”

You glance up from the roll you were glazing to see what the fuss was about. Juyeon’s icing bag tore somehow, the sticky topping getting all over his hand. Truly, you were no better than a man, with the filthy thoughts inhabiting your brain almost instantaneously.

He brings his hand up to his mouth, licking the glaze off the back of his hand and wrapping his lips around his thumb. You felt dizzy, drunk on the sight of your extremely attractive neighbor doing something so sensual without even trying to. You bite your lip, accidentally dropping your own icing bag due to lack of attention.

Juyeon smirks slightly, relishing in the way it takes absolutely nothing to hypnotize you with his hands alone. He really tried to keep himself contained. He really wanted you to extend the first olive branch, but he knows you’re apprehensive. So just this once, he tells himself that it’s okay to initiate, to give you a little push in the right direction.

He takes a step closer to you, caging you against the counter. You stare up at him with wide, doe eyes, as if you were completely innocent despite the naughty images flashing behind them. Juyeon brings his thumb up to your lips, the pad of it still covered in icing.

“Think you could clean this up for me?” He asks, voice low and husky. You could actually combust with that all on its own.

Just like your formal introduction, you don’t give yourself the time to think, and act, instead, running your tongue along the length of his thumb. Juyeon doesn’t restrain the groan in the back of his throat, holding your face in his hands and pulling you in for a kiss.

You reciprocate immediately, fisting his hoodie like it was the only thing capable of stabilizing you. Maybe it was, with the way Juyeon’s lips synchronized with yours and his fingers tangled in your hair. You thought the ground would swallow you whole and wake you up from this dream. On what planet did someone like Lee Juyeon like a girl like you?

His hands slide down your body, groping everything in their path desperately before cupping under your thighs and lifting you onto the counter. He knocks the baking sheet of cinnamon rolls out of the way, palms rubbing up and down the sides of your legs. You want more, so much more, but you’re afraid to ask. You’re afraid to start something you’re not even sure you can emotionally handle.

Juyeon senses your hesitation, detaching from you momentarily. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want. I understand if you still need time.”

“N-No, I want this— I want you— I'm just… scared.” You breathe, your forehead using his shoulder for support.

“I'm not him, Y/N. I can give you the world if you’d let me. I’d never do what he did to you, that’s a promise.” He holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, kissing the crown of your head.

“Okay,” you nod, smiling up at him. “I trust you, Juyeon.”

You reconnect your lips as his fingers slip beneath your pajama shorts, toying with the waistband of your panties. His lips curl up when he feels you squirm, legs parting to make more room for him in the middle of them. You sigh, body shuddering when he drags his knuckle down your clothed slit.

Juyeon hooks his fingers into your shorts and underwear, hauling them down your legs. You place your hands behind you to brace yourself, a shiver trailing your spine when the cool air of your apartment hits your warm core. He groans again at the sight of you bare for him, using two fingers to spread your lower lips.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he swears, his thumb slowly circling your clit.

You whine, tossing your head back as he applies more pressure. Bit by bit, you begin to lose yourself to the pleasure of Juyeon’s gorgeous hands. Soon the stimulation on your clit amplifies when he adds another finger, thrusting it in and out of your entrance. He curls deep inside of you, like he was reaching for something he’d left.

One finger turns to two, and before you know it, Juyeon’s openly finger fucking you on the counter. He leans over your body to keep your lips together, kissing you sloppily while all his focus is on drawing you to the edge. You can almost taste it, your saccharine release in your field of vision now.

It’s a little embarrassing how quickly he was able to wind you up and trip you over the edge, but you feel too euphoric to care. You pause in your kiss to look down at his handy work. (No pun intended.) It makes your head feel foggy and your vision blurry to see his deft fingers fucking you open, veins bulging, like he’d done this many times before. Your hooded eyes follow them up his forearms, a whine escaping your lips.

A particular curl of his fingers and circle of his thumb have you clenching around him, creaming like you’d never had an orgasm in your life. He doesn’t slow his assault, bringing you down just to put you back up on that summit once again. The overstimulation has you cumming a second time in a matter of what felt like seconds, whimpers becoming voluminous moans.

Juyeon kisses you softly, gently pulling out his fingers to lick them clean like he did with the cinnamon roll glaze. A choked groan bubbles past your mouth, tossing an arm over your eyes. He laughs, towing you to the edge of the counter.

He brushes some stray hairs out of your face, moving your arm to smile dopily at you. “I hope you know I was being serious about the whole treating you better thing. If you’ll give me the chance.”

“I know. I told you I trust you, remember?” You nip at the inside of your cheek. His eyes crinkle up like they tend to do when he’s smiling so genuinely. It forces the wind out of you, because how could you ever get used to a sight so stunning?

“You’re so cute.” He laughs, kissing all around your face and smushing your cheeks together.

“Juyeon,” you mumble. “I’m half naked…”

“Even better,” he grins, pecking the tip of your nose. “Makes it that much easier to do all of the other things I wanna do to you.”

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz juyeon #tbz juyeon #lee juyeon x reader #lee juyeon smut #juyeon x reader #juyeon smut #juyeonszn #fawntober.2023🎃

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lolahasmoxie · 1 year ago

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Conversations at 3 AM (E.M.)

PAIRING: Eddie Munson x Reader

WORD: 1.3k

WARNING: nudity, language, casual intimacy, established relationship, friends to lovers, mentions of getting pregnant, mentions of sexy times, heart-to-heart talks (Eddie & reader are 25)

CONCEPT: You and Eddie aren't used to people sticking around.

DIVIDER FROM @firefly-graphics

Even though you were born at 6 a.m. on the dot, you were a night owl through and through.

During high school and college, summer meant you became a nocturnal creature, much to the annoyance of your family. There was one person it never annoyed, though.

You had met Eddie in elementary school after he moved into the trailer across from yours. From the day you met, you had been thick as thieves. For years, your friends watched as you skirted the line of will they won't they, watching the other traverse dating and relationships with an envious eye. It wasn't until a year ago, when Eddie kissed you during the middle of a movie night, that you had finally become more.

Tonight, you'd had dinner at Steve's house with the whole gang, seeing as Mike, Dustin, and Lucas were all in town for a long weekend from college. The boys had planned a one-off campaign at your shared apartment the following night, and by midnight, you and Eddie were in your home.

Side by side, you brushed your teeth, trying not to laugh as Eddie made faces at you in the mirror. Once in your Queen bed, Eddie's hands began mapping your body, and in a practiced routine that felt like breathing, you let him love you until sleep came for you both.

However, this time, sleep only came for Eddie.

You had tried everything to fall back asleep: counting sheep, listing Metallica songs followed by Black Sabbath, breathing in time with Eddie. Nothing worked. So, as carefully as you could, you crawled out of his hold, placing your pillow closer to Eddie when he started to stir. As his gangly arms wound around the object, you entered your kitchen.

You had been at the table for a while when you heard soft footsteps coming down the hallway. Turning your head, you watch as your tall metalhead boy walks into the kitchen naked as a jaybird, cock dangling freely as his hands wipe at his eyes like a little boy.

"What time issit." he mumbles as Eddie comes up behind you. He wraps his arms around you, placing a kiss on your hairline. "Why are you still up?"

"Almost 3 a.m. and I tried to go to sleep, but no dice," you say. He nods in understanding before sitting next to you at the table.

"I was having this great dream; you were wearing that black number you wore to our last show at the Hideout? Anyway, you were letting me drag you to the bathroom to do unspeakable things to you when I woke up, and instead of rubbing against my pretty girlfriend, I was humping your pillow. By the way, I'm pretty sure there's a stain, and I'm sorry in advance." You can't help but smile as you dip a carrot into the hummus.

"Didn't want to wake you up. You know how I toss and turn when I can't sleep."

"So there's no reason you're up at almost 3 a.m. eating," he paused as he reached for the container of hummus. "Jalapeno hummus? Holy fuck, you're not pregnant, are you?"

"No, you asshole," you playfully slap Eddie's arm as he tries to play off his terrified expression. "Nice to know how you feel about the topic, though."

"I'm just warning you, we could be on a babymaking schedule to get knocked up; I will still probably freak the fuck out when it does happen, so just a heads up for when we get there."

"Duly noted." you chuckle. Eddie laces his hand into yours and brings them to his lips. You can feel his eyes on you; you know Eddie will give you your space to work out whatever is going on in your brain. But he's also a persistent asshole who won't stop until he finds out why you left him alone in bed. "Does this ever feel too good, Eds?"

"What do you mean?"

"Us. I mean, we disagree on things, but we never really fight. Being together with you has always just felt scarily easy; I've never had that with other boyfriends." You sigh as you look at your joined hands. "Feels like I'm waiting for something, but I don't know for what."

"Easy, I know what it is," Eddie says as he gives your hand a squeeze. "You're waiting for the other shoe to drop." When you meet his gaze, those cow-brown eyes study you, looking at you with more love than you think you can handle.

"Elaborate, please."

"You and I have always been alike," he begins. "our dating histories are littered with people telling us we were too much. Too loud, too needy, or too whatever. But here's the good part, babe. You will never be too much for me. Ever."

"You mean it?" You're impressed that he could sum up your feelings so succinctly. He grins at you, a beautiful smile spreading from ear to ear.

"Of course I mean it. I had to watch you date assholes for ten years; you really think I'm gonna let you go now that I'm lucky enough to call you mine? Not a chance, sweetheart." You reach out a hand and cup his cheek, and you can't help but smile when Eddie leans into your touch.

"Thank you, Eddie."

"No problem; you know, I had resigned myself to loving you from afar a long time ago. Sometimes, when I wake up next to you, I feel like I gotta pinch myself to make sure it's real."

"You're such a cheeseball," you tease. "Why don't you head back to bed? I'm gonna clean up and join you in a minute." You stand from your chair, but Eddie stops you with a tug of your hand. In a flash, you're on his lap. Your hands hold onto his shoulders, although you're in no danger of falling. Edde's grip is secure as he gives you a look you are all too familiar with. You speak his name, and he raises a hand to push the hair from your face.

"You know, it was very mean to leave me in that big bed all by myself," he begins, his hand cupping your cheek. You feel your body warm as his thumb caresses your cheek. "Why don't you let me take you back to bed and help quiet that big brain of yours. Sound good, sweetheart?"

You lean in to kiss your man, his arms wrapping tight around you as he fists your shirt in his hands. When his tongue runs along the seam of your lips, you happily grant him access, tangling your hands in his hair while you slowly start to grind against him. When you feel him hard and warm underneath you, you think you may never want to sleep again.

You both enjoy the kiss, neither of you rushing things. You pull back when you need air, and while Eddie's face is happy, there's something else. You raise an eyebrow as he licks his lips.

"You taste like salsa." You can't help but laugh as you lean forward and bury your nose in his neck. He pulls you closer, hands caressing your back like you're the most precious being in his universe. You can feel his chuckle as your chests press together.

You stay still for a moment to enjoy being surrounded by him. One of the things you loved about being nocturnal was how quiet the world was at almost 3 a.m. You hum contentedly when you feel Eddie's lips against your hair. You close your eyes, wanting to commit this moment, this feeling to memory.

"Alright," Eddie taps you on the ass and breaks the silence. "Let me take you back to bed, alright?" You climb out of his lap and softly kiss the corner of his mouth.

"I'll go brush my teeth. Why don't you go make sure the bed is warm." Eddie hops up, cock bobbing comically as he begins to do a naked run back to your room.

"I'll keep the home fires burning! If I fall asleep, wake me up with head!"

BONUS: THE NEXT DAY

Dustin: I'm just gonna have a seat here, and we can get started.

Eddie: fair warning, my naked ass has been on that chair.

Dustin: 😳

Dustin: like, recently naked?

Eddie: last night.

Dustin: you're a fucking animal.

Eddie: 😁

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic

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chimimon · 6 days ago

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Sun Roof

Touya x f!Reader

Word Count 2.3k

Disclaimer! What you are about to read contains the following: flirting, fluff, and mildly annoyed Tenko.

& what I have to say is… I’m gonna be so honest as to why I wound up kinda pausing this little blurb fic, and it was because I was playing Baldurs Gate. I KNOW. I know, but I also started a new run as a paladin and I already broke my oath, to which again… I KNOW, I KNOW, MY BAD… Anywho, Touya and you work an motel/hotel desk job eheheh

“They’re gonna fire us.”

“I know.” Your pace quickened as the cold morning air numbed your cheeks and nose. “Well, no actually. I think they need us.”

Touya rolled his eyes, leading the way down a steep concrete path to the entrance of a dead-end desk job. “Sure, they need us,” past his visible voice in the cold he began to jog. “As if we don’t do meaningless part time work.”

The air cut inside your lungs as you pushed yourself to catch up to him, patting the back of his arm as he opened the door for you despite the rush. “But nobody does meaningless work like we do.”

Touya shook his head as the wind closed the door behind you both. The running seemed to do you two some good as you had two minutes to spare. It was just enough time for the computer to wake up, and if nothing lagged, you’d clock-in uncomfortably close to your starting times. It was more often than not that you had to race to clock-in and open the doors. So much so that you had Touya’s log-ins etched in your brain and were curious to see if you could enter both your log ins simultaneously.

No one had immediately followed behind him which felt like a good start to your shifts, and as he sat beside you feint smell of smoke and a warm woody cologne bled into the air. That was the nice thing about Touya, he always smelled the same, looked the same, and sounded the same as long as you ignored his attitude to the people checking-in or out of their rooms. You usually knew what to expect from him, but as shifts turned into days, into weeks, into months, the little things began to stick out between all the blurred time spent. The little things appeared in the form of morning coffee, a warm ride home, an out of place pet name, and a text asking if you needed a ride to or from work. Today he was playing music out loud, something with an acoustic guitar and blurred drumming as he leaned back and faced you.

“When are you off?” A pen twirled between his fingers.

One leg crossed over the other as you thought about it. “It’s Tuesday, right?”

Touya hummed as he dropped his unclicked-pen to draw circles on the knee of his slacks, occasionally bunching the fabric as he sighed. “It is.”

“I’ll be out around three or four.”

“Ah, I’m out at two-thirty. Unless you needed to be somewhere, then I can consider covering for you.”

Consider. “No, I’m good. Why do you ask?”

The drawing stopped as he brought the pen to his chin. “Why do I ever ask?” He dropped his head and watched you through his lashes.

“I’ve never said no to a free ride, Touya. You know that.” The keyboard slid under your computer stand as you lay in your folded arms for a pillow. “But you don’t have to wait for me if you don’t want to.”

Touya pushed out an amused one syllable laugh, grinning before turning to his computer.

Mornings on the weekend were when things picked up. Someone else would come in to help get calls while you and Touya dealt with the people coming in and out, and unless you were missing something, Touya seemed to only chat with you, or bring you coffee.

But it was Tuesday, and nobody cared to check in on Tuesdays. At least not anyone on vacation. The weekday shifts were mainly for dealing with missing keycards, sending the cleanup crew to vacant rooms, or answering phone calls. There was an unspoken process between you two where you would answer phone calls in a syrupy sweet voice, and if someone difficult was on the other side of that call, Touya would take over. The phones were cheap, so you two could always hear who the other was talking to, what the person on the line was saying and how quickly they lightened up to the bored attitude of Touya Todoroki. Anytime he had to take over a call it often ended with his rolling his eyes which would’ve been taken personally if he didn’t murmur insults at the phone once it clicked.

Noon rolled around and not a soul had physically entered check-in. Calls were quiet besides people mainly confirmed office hours, their reserved rooms and dates. Touya had been tapping on your desk in vain until he used his knuckle to knock on the cool marble surface beside your mouse. The thud caught your attention as a man over the phone raised his voice about his check-out time. Without looking, Touya began to reach for your phone, scooting over to you so you wouldn’t have to transfer.

With your hand over the microphone, you pouted in a whisper. “Wait but he’s not done yelling at me.”

“Hand it over.” He whispered back.

“Don’t be rude. Besides, I think that’d piss him off more if you just cut him off and-”

The phone was out of your hands as soon as Touya stood up. Looming over your chair he reached for your keyboard to look at the caller's check-in date. He waited until the man was done speaking to read off their reservation. It was clear the change in tone wasn’t welcome as the man demanded to have both of your names, a demand that Touya ignored as he began to speak.

“We can’t adjust the check-out time, even if you’re booking for someone else.” He leaned in and groaned, the smell of cigarettes and mint felt alluring. “The times to check in and out pop up before you confirm your room... They are also in the FAQ tab of the website- No... When you confirm you agree to that policy-... no, you don’t get to talk to her again.”

Touya completely surrounded you with a hand on your keyboard, the other on the back of your chair as he pinched the phone between his cheek and shoulder. When he finally let go of your seat to hold the phone, Touya was hovering still. You thought that he might as well have rested his chin atop your head. The creeping question reared its head from the fog of an angry call, and you couldn’t help but wonder just when he decided to be so close.

“No, no sir. You get to talk to me now.” Your gaze met Touya’s as he looked down right as you looked up. With a deep breath in, he blinked hard and slow. The person on the other side of the phone demanded to speak to a manager and without a second thought Touya lied. “Lucky you, you're speaking to ‘em.” He gave a quick smile before sucking on his teeth “Well, if you want someone higher than me you can try thoroughly reading through our website next time. A number should be listed in the FAQ tab and-" There was a feint click in the call as Touya’s forehead gently butted yours, and for just a moment you could feel his shoulders bounce in unamused laughter.

“Guess he didn’t like that one.” Touya set the phone face down beside your keyboard, then set the tips on his fingers on the back of your chair as he reached back in a big stretch, groaning a little as he relaxed.

“Listen,” his bored tone carried more mint and tobacco, “don’t let old shits speak to you like that. Just hand them over to me.” With his back to the entrance, he leaned on your desk, practically sitting on it to cross one leg over the other as he watched your hands.

The warm sun through the glass made everything hazy along with Touya stretching the collar of his mock-neck long sleeve. “Got it, boss.”

He raised a brow and grinned.

“What?” You leaned on your elbow beside his hand and hip.

“If we’re lucky, you think ‘old shit’ will make an appearance?”

“If you’re lucky,” you tested the waters with your free hand and lazily traced over his knuckles, “he’ll come in after you leave and I have those solid thirty minutes to an hour all to myself.” you quickly withdrew your hand as another call came in.

Touya made a face, where his eyes looked up to nothing in particular and his grin smoothed into a thoughtful frown. He gently placed his hand on the desk, motioning you to put whoever you were talking to on hold.

“Yeah?”

“Actually, never mind.” He lifted away back to his chair only to pull out his phone and text away.

An hour or so of phone calls and idle chatter passed. In-between that and sending off automated reminder emails, you couldn’t help but watch his hands and wrists as he worked. You watched the veins protrude as he grew bored and heavy handed until a soft vibration caught your collective attention as he unlocked his phone.

“Sweet.” He cooly hummed to himself. Touya was facing the clock in front of you both before he eyed you. “Good news, we're both off at two-thirty.”

“What?” You turned to him with wide-eyes and a tilted grin. “You’re kidding, right?”

Touya gave a lazily, and warm smile to the clock before handing it to you. “One half of the afternoon duo wanted to come in early.”

“I feel like they didn’t really want to, so much as you, oh I don’t know, asked them to...” Pushing yourself back, you folded your arms and smiled back. “Is this about that one guy earlier?”

“Well, I can always let them know that you wanna stay-” He swiftly deflected.

“Woah, hey,” with your hands in the air you took a deep breath in. “Now I never said I didn’t want to leave early.”

“Thought so.” Touya moved his attention to his computer, eyeing the clock every so often before picking up another call.

When the small bell attached to the door chimed, Tenko dead eyed Touya and leaned into his desk. “Dinners on you,” Tomura hissed before heading to the back, curtly waving your way as he turned a corner.

Touya ignored your all-knowing smirk as he pulled out his car keys from a drawer, “I’ll bring the car around.”

Before you could say anything, Touya was headed out the back door as Tenko took his place. Tenko wasn’t very talkative, but he was cordial when he needed to be. Out of the front doors you waved to Tenko who nodded in acknowledgment and hopped into the passenger side of Touya’s kempt car.

You were swimming in his cologne and newly lit cigarette as he drove off, blowing smoke out of his open window. From the sounds of it the same bit of acoustic and soft drumming was playing on the stereo as he approached your exit and the hum of the engine disappeared as he rolled up his window and hit the gas.

Touya’s hands spoke when he didn’t. Sometimes he’d drum his thumbs on the steering wheel behind slow goers, pet the gear stick at a red light, or turn down the music when you’d talk, even if he had nothing to say. In fact, his whole body spoke when he didn’t, and you were sure he wasn’t completely aware of this fact, and hoped that he never would be.

“Hey, Touya.”

The music died. “Yeah?”

That empty feeling swept you up inside as you glanced over his relaxed figure. “Are you hungry at all?”

Touya hummed like he was finally paying attention to his stomach. “I could eat.”

“Well, what exactly could you eat?” That moment of hunger was fleeting when anticipation filled your stomach.

“Me?” Touya turned into a small parking lot between a couple of small stores, given it was barely three in the afternoon, it wasn’t busy but it was certainly lively. “It kinda sounded like you were the one who wanted to eat.”

The car turned into a small spot under a tree. The sun cast patterns on the hood and crept onto the middle console as he opened the screen to the sunroof. Decidedly you turned to face him with a leg to your chest.

“You don’t know, do you?” Touya also turned to you in his seat and gave you this easy but annoyed look. With a bent elbow Touya leaned against his hand before he reached out to hold the back of your headrest, as if he were cradling your head while he unknowingly watched all the hunger leave your body.

“You know, I think I just want something to drink.”

Touya closed his eyes and grinned. The leaves shook in the wind as the sun felt over his open arm and the tips of his black box dyed hair. The sun just missed the grown in white of his natural hair, and the bright saturated blue in his eyes, despite him leaning closer. You could hear his thumb brush against the fabric of your headrest. Subconsciously you leaned into the sound and he raised his brows, still grinning.

“You have to know.” He carefully watched you, nearly whispering as if he’d scare you away.

“Know?” You shifted, stiffened with anticipation swirling in your gut. “What do I know, Touya?”

Touya scoffed. The back of his hand from the headrest to his face, hiding a warm blush. “God, quit looking at me doll.”

“Oh, doll...” you teased, inching closer as he lied back against the glass. “I haven’t heard that one in a while. Is something wrong?” You grinned back.

Touya rolled his eyes and gazed at his back seats. “Not a thing.” Gentle but nervous laughter trickled from in your ears down your spine.

“You’re not calling me doll to get me to cover you or something, are you?”

“No cause that’s fucking lame.”

“Yeah, especially because you’ve done it before.”

“What?” Touya sang out, “No way. I just said that’s fucking lame, so I would never do that because I’m-”

“Not fucking lame?”

“Exactly.”

The three pm on his dash came to both of your attentions as he went to turn up the music. “You would’ve just gotten off.” Touya watched you from the corner of his eye.

“And you would’ve been waiting.”

“Just for you, darlin’.”

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