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coconutdays · 6 months

Text

love line

s. on a very drunk night, satoru exposes your crush on the famous mma fighter, and friend of yours, toji zenin

w.c. 12.3k

w. fem! reader, mma!toji! x reader , fluff!, smut!

a/n: this might not be proofread well but I hope yall enjoy. im very in love with this man!

"I can't believe I lost that stock today!"

you're out having drinks with your friends at a fancy bar in shibuya when satoru gets shitfaced drunk. the matter is nothing new. he's the lightweight of the group and doesn't care about getting home most of the time because he knows either you or suguru will take charge and take him home.

you're taking frequent sips of your whiskey as you watch one of the country's most successful business owners mope over a small, so very minuscule, fraction of his wealth fly by. suguru is sitting next to you at the booth and exchanges a look of 'idiot' in reference to the white haired man's sad life story. sukuna is in front of you and no look needs to be exchanged because he simply acts on his thoughts and gives satoru a smack on the back of his head.

and toji's at the center of the booth, smooshed between shoko and satoru. he's looking at satoru in mild amusement, a small smirk on his face at the fool's stupidity as he too drinks from a glass of whiskey. he's wearing a low scooped black long sleeve that probably costs a thousand dollars and rightfully so, it makes him look so handsome. the price nothing compared to the pay he makes as a world champion mma fighter.

you've known him for the better part of a year, a bit more actually. satoru met him near the end of your college career on a business whim with his father and has since made him a member of your friend group. you're not as close as you wish you could be, the immense nerves you have in fear of him even getting an inkling that you're attracted to him have always stopped you from initiating a more than necessary amount of text conversations or random phone calls. satoru could do that, you couldn't. god, you've even seen suguru have more dms with the raven haired fighter than you. even in the group chat all of you share, you can't bring yourself to connect with him aside from teaming up to tease satoru or sukuna.

the last thing you ever conversed with him on your phone was a conversation you, surprisingly, started. he had told you about this one taco place and said you would love it based on your shared interest of food. when you told him you'd try it, he had told you, 'better send me a picture when you're there.' and you did. he had sent a laughing emoji when he asked if you liked the food and you said, 'I'd step on lime juice covered shards of glass to eat this again.'

that was the last thing you'd see in your messages between each other.

he was close to four years older than all of you, except for sukuna, they were only a year apart. he had this endearing scar across his lip that curved so achingly whenever he smiled or grinned. he was built gorgeously, his back a sight to behold whenever you got to see him fight. and his eyes, fuck, the bright mix between grey and green always had you throwing a fit in your bed and wishing you could have him.

nevertheless, you go back to paying attention to satoru.

"you profit from so many other stocks satoru. that one stock is just a random occurrence."

"but the ladies won't want to go out with a guy who loses even one stock!" he looks up from where he's sprawled across the table, pouting at you.

"the fact that you're a millionaire at the age of 23 already gets enough ladies." you roll your eyes, unable to help the twitch of your lips at the sight of a little bit of drool seeping from the corner of his mouth

"it's not enough." he mutters

this time, you and sukuna share a deadpan face and you flick satoru's forehead, leaning only slightly across the table.

"yeah you're right. satoru gojo is such a loser for losing a stock, none of the girls are gonna want him now."

out of the corner of your eye, you see toji huff a little laugh at your antics, it makes your heart skip a beat a little that he finds you, even if its mostly satoru, funny.

"don't mock me!" satoru's cheeks are red as he scowls at you the best he can.

"she's not mocking." sukuna snorts, taking a swig of his beer.

"yea she is!" satoru points at you, "I never mock you about toji!"

everybody in the group stills except for satoru, who looks like he's still revved up about the subject.

much like cassie's reaction in euphoria when rue asked her how long she had been fucking nate, all you could do was nervously laugh.

"what–what are you talking about?"

you can feel your entire body starting to shake in fear. it was like you were in elementary again and some mean friend of yours was going to expose your crush on the popular boy of your grade. the fear was something you never thought you'd experience again.

"don't act stupidddd." satoru drags on, as if toji fucking zenin wasn't right next to him, "you're always talking about how bad you want toji and that ' I wish I could talk to him' bullcrap!" he says the last part in imitation of you with a high pitched voice.

suguru is staring at satoru in terror. sukuna is looking at you, in peril for you. shoko looks like she mentally checked out so she couldn't feel your embarrassment.

...and toji is staring at you, his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, like he doesn't know what to say.

your phone is in your pocket. check. your purse is on your lap. check. satoru can pay for your tab when he comes to his senses. check.

all you can do is abruptly get up and start to dash away, ignoring the yell for you from suguru. you don't look back, pure peril and adrenaline taking over your body as you make it out of the bar as quickly as possible, thanking whatever god that you chose to wear the easiest pair of heels to walk today.

the metro, the metro, the metro.

you look around for a quick second, only taking a second to remember what way the metro was before you rush in its direction. you feel a buzz coming from your pocket when you do, and you can only figure its one of your friends, trying to get you to come back.

you ignore it and rush down the escalator to the metro, making a glance behind you and noting that nobody was behind you. thank god. however, it doesn't stop your pace and your heels click and clack you all the way to a seat on the train to your part of town.

fuck.

your entire body feels like its on fire and melting.

toji knows you like him.

fuck.

suguru 5 missed calls

shoko girl where did you go?

sukuna 1 missed call dude, since when do you run track

you have to stop yourself from bashing your head on the pole in front of you. shakily, you press on suguru's contact to call him. you would tell him you were going to home so he wouldn't need to worry. what's the worst that could happen by now anyway.

"y/n? hello?"

"I'm on the train home." you breathe

"that fast?" he doesn't exclaim, he's not the type to show his surprise so blatantly like his counterpart but you can hear his concern at the fact.

"yeah." you murmur, stomach churning now that the adrenaline's worn off.

suguru sighs, "satoru is scared you're going to kill him now."

and you can hear his wails in the background. 'no she's going to come after me!' 'I need to up my security!' 'is that her on the phone?! y/n pleasseee forgive me!'

your nose scrunches in annoyance and you blurt, "I'm not going to kill you stupid idiot!"

"she says she's not going to kill you." suguru says to satoru and you can hear what you presuppose is suguru pushing the drunk fiend off of him before he continues talking to you, "about toji–"

you feel your stomach drop at the mention of the name, he's still there with them, fully aware of your feelings for him

"ah! don't wanna hear it!"

the beginning of a call to your name from suguru went ignored as you immediately pulled your phone back and pressed the little red button.

the sky had literally fallen for you and now you had to deal with the aftermath—which you weren’t doing right this second, due to what you just did to your friends, but you’d do it eventually. being an adult made sure you had to face it sometime soon. its just that toji zenin learning from satoru gojo that you had a massive crush on him had not ever been something you expected. hell you never expected him to find out in any sort of way, ever. god, he was never supposed to know.

well, your fun was over, you had to move on now. if you wanted your friend group to stay normal and go back to the way it was, the looming existence of your feelings for the world renowned fighter had to die. you could tough it through that, you could come back and say ‘i thought it over and don’t have feelings for you anymore toji so don’t worry about acting weird with me. we’re casual friends like we’ve always been.’

a particular rattle of the train had you planting your feet on the floor purposefully and waiting for it to fully stop before you got up. you were five minutes from your apartment now, the walk you started now would pass by in a flash and you’d get to wallow in your misery soon.

ordering takeout sounded nice and so did watching your favorite show, especially after a warm shower, it had been quite chilly tonight.

you had no room to really think about your predisposition in regards to toji zenin the next day, having to attend work then go to a work party afterwards at some high end restaurant/bar located at the top floor of a skyscraper overlooking tokyo. at work, you had to host various meetings and delegate new responsibilities you planned out the day before to your peers. it was all very hectic since it was all a completely new project. you had barely looked at your phone and even if you did, there wouldn’t be much to fret over, your friends had busy lives too. and right after, you had to head straight home and get ready for the party later that evening.

you were sporting a tight black dress with light red flowers embellished across it later that night while you drank champagne and conversed with your coworkers. it had been a decent night so far and you had photos taken of you along with your peers, they’d probably be posted on the company website or social media.

there had been some interesting work tea to listen in on too, your rival company was involved in it too and you were smushed against your coworkers in a red leather lined booth with dim lighting to listen in on all of it. it was more than worthy of your time by the end of it, you deemed. you would have to tell shoko and sukuna about it whenever you got the chance next time. yes, sukuna liked tea, he was an ass who loved hearing about ass things happening.

the craving for a new glass of champagne sent you to the bar the moment the story ended, so you sat up on one of the chairs lining it while you waited for the bartender to get to you. you could see your ceo already getting shit-faced from where you were and it was funny, she always did that and always managed to get embarrassed the next time everyone saw her in the office.

“are you part of that office party?”

a large and handsome figure suddenly appeared before you, blocking the view of your boss. he was wearing a rather expensive looking black suit with a silky blue dress shirt under, all of which couldn’t hide the obvious hard and sturdy muscles under them due to the complimentary tailoring. when you took in his face, you had to hold back the urge to widen your eyes. he was excessively good looking, with sharp and devilish features sketched across his face, intertwining hand in hand with his semi-long brown wavy hair pushed back and away from his face, save for a singular pretty strand falling near his brow and down his cheek. and that scar near his eye, it seemed so familiar…

you had to blink yourself back into reality when you realized you were taking a bit too long to answer his question.

“yes,” you finally responded, trying your best to remain neutral and politely smile at him

he leaned against the open spot of the bar table between your seat and the empty one behind him, one hand in his pocket as he smiled down at you, “you’re very beautiful.”

your spit got caught in your throat at the blatant admission, this time unable to hide the way your head reeled back a little and started sporting a rising heat on your cheeks in slight shock, “oh–i–thank you.”

his smile grew wider at your flustered state and he reached a hand out for you to shake, “aizen sosuke.”

so at to remain polite, you shook his hand and repeated your name back to him in return for his, but in reality your head was falling in on itself

him.

fuck.

that’s aizen sosuke, the other world renowned mma fighter that you were very aware of due to his competitive nature and rivalry with toji. as far as you were aware, toji absolutely hated him, and you were sure aizen did too. anytime the rivalry came up into the conversation you saw toji’s eyes darken and his posture straighten in seething hate for the man. if satoru felt like getting on his nerves, as he did with everyone, he always knew to mention the tall brunette to get a visceral reaction out of him. it was bad. wait–

they have a fight tomorrow.

oh god, this was all types of fucked up. you've been pining after toji this whole year and he just found out yesterday and now you're talking to his rival who's very obviously flirting with you.

...but he was aizen sosuke, aside from that, and he just called you beautiful.

“is there any particular celebration happening?” he tilted his head to the side a little in curiosity

“no, not this time,” you breathed, trying to shake the nerves off, “my boss just likes to treat us frequently and…well herself.”

“is that the only occasion where you get treated as of late?”

suave

and you can’t help the small knowing smile starting to creep up your lips, “as of late, yes, although she mostly does it in drinks.”

“dinner isn’t often?” he leans a little closer, his lips quirking up a little

“no,” you shake your head, aware of the way your eyes are smiling back at him too.

“allow me to treat you then,” he says confidently, watching as the bartender slides you your champagne

“In exchange for…?” you quirk a brow up at him as you take a sip

“what are you willing to give?” he bites back with a canine smile, still looming over you and infringing himself a little into your space even.

“nothing.” you snark back smoothly, pressing a finger into the middle expanse of his chest. he’s really sturdy, you note before continuing, “dinner with me should be a prize enough.”

he laughs at your response handsomely, reeling away from your space in accordance with the finger of yours pushing him away, “i’ll pay for everything. hell, send me the receipt for your outfit if you feel like it. i’m sure some sort of gratitude will overcome you.”

“ravenous,” you tut your glass in his direction, “i’ll politely decline then mr sosuke.”

“you haven’t even allowed yourself to grace over the thought of spending a night in my sheets,” he’s leaned down to speak so sensually next to your ear, “if your line of work is a stress, i can make you forget all about it.”

“i’ve allowed myself to grace it,” you speak back lowly, matching his game, “and i can only see you adding onto my stress by the end of it.”

“you’re oddly confident about that,” he smiles deviously, turning his head so that you’re face to face with him, “i aim to please, if any.”

“to please?” you question in haughty disbelief, squinting your eyes playfully at him

“to please,” he’s still smiling, eyes fleeting to your lips for a second, “i could relay the details if you’d like.”

“that’s unecessary,” you laugh at his boldness, turning your head away from his, “but it’s not something i’m interested in. im only looking for stability right now.”

“how unfortunate for the both of us tonight then,” he retreats back into his space before reaching into his pocket and taking out his phone, then splaying it out in his hand for you to take, “at least leave me your number. i can be capable of stability for the right woman.”

you feel your phone buzzing erratically that night, when you’ve washed away the night’s events and lay comfortably in your bed with a glass of water cradled to you. upon first looking at your messages, you were greeted by a paparazzi picture of you, courtesy screenshot from gojo, and aizen speaking at the bar. it was one of you smiling and looking up and him while he was leaning down, face inches away from yours as he returned your toothy grin.

satoru img_736 ?????? is that aizen sosuke?! dude are you fucking him rn

sukuna take one of his trophy belts when you come back home

shoko lol he looks hot in blue

suguru satoru, aren’t you supposed to be on your flight back from dubai right now?

satoru first class has excellent cell service ha and y/n hasn’t answered aizen def has his hands busy rn

shoko it’s only been five minutes since you sent that picture plus she’s at her work party, i think. she probably just met him there

satoru who cares bud looks like he’s ready to pounce

sukuna heard he likes bdsm shit

satoru send pics of his paddle lol y/n

suguru both of you are despicable

shoko let us know if he has good stamina

suguru the three of you

all those messages had been sent ten minutes ago and you gaped at your friends’ mischief

y/n I AM NOT WARMING AIZEN SOSUKE’S BED RN!

satoru liar, he’s in your mouth rn isn’t he

y/n literally shut up toru i’m in my bed. no aizen near

sukuna sure you are you looked real horned up smiling at him in the pics

y/n LMAO he was a little funny ok, i couldn’t help laughing

shoko oh he was funny hm

suguru actually worried a little at that statement wdym he was a little funny

y/n im going to crucify all of you he tried getting me to warm his bed and was very smooth abt it, but i said no gave him my number though :p since he asked for it

satoru was that before or after he told you you have great boobs img_737 could not have been more obvious about it

the stupid texts from your friend had you laughing out loud and setting down your glass of water on your bedside table before you pressed on the microphone button and sent a loud, giggly voice message for emphasis of your previous point.

“I didn’t fuck aizen! and he didn’t need to tell me i have great boobs, i saw him staring at them the entire time.”

sukuna you are not living this down if we see hickeys on you tomorrow

satoru what he said ^^

and there came the realization,

toji and aizen’s fight was tomorrow

and all of you always showed up to toji’s fights ever since you befriended him

hell, fuck, you hadn’t even remembered he was in this group chat too. fuck fuck fuck. was this good? was this bad? he hadn’t said anything and he never really took too long to answer sometimes. no, this was the night before a fight, he’s probably already knocked out right now considering the late hour. but still, what of when he woke up to the messages tomorrow? would this help ease the knowledge of your being into him? oh she’s already flirting with some guy she’s not into me as much as a i thought so i dont feel as awkward around her anymore. but what if he thought you were doing this purposefully to get a reaction out of him and that you were so obsessed with him, you did it for that sole reason. you didn’t even want to come to the fight anymore. could you get out of it somehow? no, stupid satoru knows you’re free tomorrow and that would add more drama to your ‘up and dash’ incident from the bar yesterday night.

you turned around and flailed on your bed, screaming into your pillow in the process.

regrettably, you show up to toji’s fight the following afternoon, trying your best to suppress the notion that aside from having to be near toji later, that aizen was going to see you too, and that whole ordeal would be something different entirely for you to deal with.

you dressed pretty well, you always did, but you added a little more effort than the usual when picking your outfit for the day. it was ufc fight night worthy and showed a generous amount of skin, the pictures you would upload later that night to instagram would be amazing.

sukuna snickered when he saw you, pulling you in for a quick friendly hug as he said, “wanted zenin to see that you really didn’t fuck sosuke?”

you gaped at him and held back a smile as you smacked him with your purse, “i will hurt you ‘kuna.”

“try me, idiot,” he bites back with a snarky smile before sinking into one of the cage-side seats toji always managed to get for you guys. you had already said hi to the rest of your friends before getting to him and all felt normal until that dumbass made his dumb comment about your crush on toji. satoru, had of course, without a doubt, inspected you for hickeys and love bites immediately upon your arrival and had given you a suspicious look, as if to say, ‘you got away with it this time.’ he was always ridiculous like that, trying to cling onto random drama, even if he gaslit himself, all for his own fun.

“i really did not expect to meet him last night at the bar,” you sighed after you sat down, taking in the bustling crowds of people gathering in the arena with him

“fuckin hilarous,” he all but barks evilly in amusement at your predicament before taking a swig of his beer, “paparazzi is gonna have a field day thinking you’re aizen’s girl now that you’re here.”

“WAIT!”

you immediately sit upright at the realization and turn your body towards sukuna, jaw hung open and eyes wide in panic.

“holy shit. what the fuck.” you start having an existensial crisis and sukuna, the great friend he is starts snickering at your dilemma, finding humor in your panicked expression

“go sit near his side of the arena,” he jeers, “there’s some open seats.”

you run your hands down your face, stressed, “i thought the worst i had to deal with would be aizen seeing me here.”

“still is,” sukuna is still smirking at you evilly, “everything is shit about your day today.”

and then the lights dim and sporadic blue lights start sparkling across the arena

“get ready to say hi to your boyfriends,” sukuna teases with a canine grin before leaning over to see who would do their walkout first.

and it’s toji first.

he’s so beautiful and rugged, wearing skin tight black shorts that highlight every muscle underneath them and his eyes are glowing so pretty against the fluroscents, even if he has a murderous look on them right now. his staff are behind him as he walks through the arena, and looking at them almost distracts you from the way toji holds you in a cutthroat stare the moment he spots you, and only you.

you can hear satoru’s sly voice saying from near you, “nice.”

too scared to look away from toji, you can only speak to your friends without turning to address them, “why is toji giving me a death stare?”

“cause you fucked aizen,” satoru’s teasing lilt jeers

“yeah,” shoko agrees

“i did not fuck aizen,” you bite through gritted teeth as toji walks into the fighting cage, eyes still on you.

“tell that to him,” sukuna snickers

“don’t think about it too much,” suguru tries to comfort

then the lights starts blaring furiously again and aizen’s presence is announced throughout the entire arena. and you were really right about that suit being unable to hide those muscles, because without any clothing over them…they were enormous and mouth-watering.

all of you watch as he, accompanied by his staff too, walks to the cage, handsome smirk planted on his face.

“would you look at that,” satoru starts, “he doesn’t have your scratch marks all over his back.”

“ha ha,” you sarcastically mutter back when aizen enters the cage and he situates himself in his side, taking in his surroundings, like those sitting in the cage side seats.

like you.

you know he’s spotted you because of the way his eyebrows raise in surprise and the wolfish smile that starts forming on his face the moment you make eye contact. and you know toji’s noticed too because of the way he turns to you too and keeps looking between you and the fighter in front of him.

satoru whistles while sukuna howls, both leaning down to elbow you from either side much to your annoyance

“scratch the paparazzi thinking youre here for aizen being the worst thing capable of happening today,” satoru sighs haughtily, “if toji loses, you’re in for it.”

you spin your head to him, panicked, “what?! is he gonna stop being my friend?!”

satoru shrugs, nonchalant, “don’t know, just keep watching sweetheart.”

so you did and it was unnerving.

when the fight started and toji and aizen started squaring up against each other, you could see aizen start speaking to him. his mouth was moving a little and a smile crept up on it when he jeered his chin in your direction, all of which you saw toji answer back with what looked like single word short answers and a sneer on his face.

“wonder what they’re talking about,” suguru questioned softly

“i have a small idea,” satoru said under his breath before toji threw the first punch and the chaos ensued.

the fight consisted of a lot of hisses and ows coming from everyone, including you, in the arena. toji and aizen were really putting in the work to beat the crap out of each other. ten minutes had passed and toji was already bleeding from his mouth and aizen had blood falling down his nose. both of their bodies were beat too, red splotches blossoming all over them as a reaction to the various kicks and punches both of them sent to each other.

however it looked like it was reaching its cusp when aizen got toji in a headlock and muttered something while looking at you.

which must have given toji enough energy to quickly peel himself off and knock his face in a couple of times. and when aizen stood up straight after it to counter, he was bleeding profusely from his mouth and smiled so devilshly at you before wandering into toji’s space again.

“hot,” shoko commented while gnawing on a toothpick

and that continued, the smiles at you from him, with his questionably hot bleeding mouth while he sported a beating from toji or gave it to him. but it started dying down when toji actually started knocking him in so close to his own victory. and there wasn’t much aizen could do until toji pinned him down and forced him into submission,

all while aizen stared at you and even had the gall to wink while his loss was announced

satoru whistled again, “the balls on this guy. surprised you aren’t soaked right now.”

people were starting to filter out when the winner and loser were officially announced and were beginning to get escorted back to their locker rooms.

“come on,” sukuna muttered as he drank the last of his beer and got up with the rest of you to go to toji’s room.

when all of you are rushed into toji’s locker room, you somehow wound up standing next to him, where he’s seated on a bench and wiping the blood off his face with a hand towel.

“congrats,” you mumble, along with the others

“what’d he say to you during the fight,” leered satoru, both of his hands in his pockets and his shades over his eyes again now that he doesn’t have to watch the fight.

“none of your business,” muttered toji after wiping his face again, “where’s my fucking water?”

“here sir, here,” one of his goonies said while weaving through the people in the room and nervously handing him a water bottle

“thanks,” he huffs with a small glare before opening the bottle and starting to chug from it

“who do you fight after this,” sukuna asks

toji shrugs and looks towards his manager, who then starts to explain the next sequence of events after this win. and it lasts for thirty minutes before everyone falls quiet and toji gets up abruptly

“alright, get out. ‘m gonna change,” he all but demands for everyone to leave ominously

and you listen to his words, letting the half closest to the door start to filter out before you make to move your feet and suddenly toji’s holding onto your arm.

“where do you think you’re going?” he huffs when the last person leaves the room and the door clicks shut

you feel like a deer caught in headlights and feel yourself start to grow nervous, “outside…to let you change?”

“you gonna fuck him?”

and you gaslight yourself into pretending you don’t know what he’s talking about, “who?”

he deadpans at you with bored and almost annoyed green eyes and you have to look away from him when you murmur, “no…i don’t know. listen, me having a thing for you isn’t that serious and if i entertain aizen it isn’t so you can finally notice me or something, i just–”

“when the fuck did i say i never noticed you before?”

your eyes widen and you didn’t know what to say

“what? you think it’s so easy for me to try and talk to your dumbass too?” he pulls you closer by the arm he’s already holding, scowl etched across his face

“what,” is the only thing you can get out in your nerves

toji glares at you, “when silver spoon said you wish you could talk to me, did it ever cross your smartass that i don’t know how to talk to you either?”

“no,” you let out meekly, struggling to make eye contact with him and feeling your heart rate go up by a million beats per minute

“so,” toji tugs on your arm again, “are you gonna fuck him?”

you look away to a locker near when you mumble, “do you not want me to?”

“no, i fucking don’t.”

“then i won’t.”

“great,” he lets go of you and now centers himself to stand in front of you, quirking a brow up when he asks, “you gonna let me take you out on a date?”

you have to fight the urge to fiddle with your hands as you look back up at him, “when?”

“tonight.”

“shouldn’t you rest after a fight!?” your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets, pupils darting to the blood staining his lips

“not if i don’t feel like it,” he shrugs, before gaining a threatening aura, “or do you wanna bite the bullet and get lunch right now? you won’t have time to get a pretty dress on.”

panicked at his suggestion, you mindlessly put your hands against his chest and plead, “no! tonight is fine, tonight is fine!”

“thought so,” he huffs back at you, corners of his mouth quirking up a little

and put on a pretty dress you did, a red sultry one that teetered between innocence and sex. it had toji staring you down as you took the unfathombly large bouquet of flowers he brought for you from his arms and set it on your kitchen island.

“where are we going?” you turned to look at him while he drove you to whatever destination he had in mind for tonight, playing with the metal clasp of your handbag

toji had been leaned against the driver side door of his car, with one hand holding onto his chin while the other steered, he seemed oddly pensive.

“allen’s,” he gruffly swallowed before straightening up and putting both of his hands on the steering wheel. you weren’t surprised by the mention of the michelin star restaurant, he could afford it and had the status for it anyways

so you couldn’t help but speak, “are you nervous?”

his entire body tensed visibly and his eyes slightly widened, glancing at you for a half second before looking back at the road and relaxing, “what do you think smartass?”

a smile crept its way onto your face, “well i am too.”

“you gonna run away again?” he side eyed you with a slight gleam of mischief

your face flushed and your mouth gaped, turning to look at the road too now instead of at him, crossing your arms as you huffed, “what else was i supposed to do? not like you had anything to say either, had your mouth open like a fish when i got exposed…”

“least i didn’t run,” he huffed back

“well you didnt try to contact me after,” you sasssed, sensing his growing irritation

“you’re a real pain in my ass,” he glared at you, “you know that right?”

“and you’re not acting like the guy who just won a fight earlier today.”

toji had just parked outside the restaurant and splayed his hands across the steering wheel, trying to control his breathing from what you could tell.

“i didn’t know what to say, okay negative nancy?” he finally turned to you, green eyes striking under the night sky and neon lights from the restaurant name shining through, “and then when i was going to call your pretty ass the next day, i saw the pictures of fuck face raw dogging you at the bar.”

“he didn’t fuck me,” you whined in complaint as you splayed yourself across the center console of his car and batted your scorned eyes at him, “how many times do i have to tell you guys?”

“well you were real close to,” he smirked at you before something serious fell across his features and his eyes darted to your handbag, “matter a fact, block his number right now.”

your head perked up at the demand and you blinked at him, “i dont have his number.”

toji squinted his eyes at you, “you said you gave him your number in the group chat.”

“yeah but he hasn’t called me or anything, so i never got his.”

the ravenette rolled his eyes, taking his keys out of the ignition and pointing at you with them, “when he does, you better fucking block him.”

“i will,” you nod obediently, watching as he starts to get out of the car

you move to take off your seat belt and he leans back into the vehicle with a warning look, “i’ll unbuckle it, don’t move.”

and he does, closing the door of his side before walking over to you and opening the door to kneel in and take off your seat belt, then giving you a helping hand to get out.

“thank you,” you murmur appreciatively as you watch your step before landing a quick kiss to his cheek. and if it affected him, you wouldn’t know, he said nothing and held onto your arm softly while he guided the both of you to the restaurant entrance.

“you look hot by the way,” he breathed out before opening the door and entering with you, giving you no chance to respond when the hostess immediately greeted the both of you and began to lead you to a table.

it was intimate, the table. it was small and dainty, relatively little space would be between you and the gruff fighter. and both of your seats were at the same corner of the table, making the distance shorter than it would have been sitting across from each other.

toji instinctively pulled out your chair for you and muttered out a sound of acknowledgement when you thanked him as he sat down.

“you gonna drink?” he quirked a brow at you, gesturing towards the menu of alcohol planted right in front of the both of you

“a little red wine sounds nice,” you try to say politely, “you?”

“nah,” he responds while raising a hand for a waiter to come by, “i need to drive you home. you like sweet or bitter wine?”

“sweet.”

and so he orders a wine for you to drink right off the bat, saying a thank you as the waiter walks away to get the bottle.

“does your mouth hurt?”

toji hums mindlessly, as if his head had been somewhere else before he perks up again and says, “come again sweetheart?”

the pet name had you a little fluststered in speaking again, feeling your body grow hot as you gestured to his mouth meekly, “your mouth, it was bleeding after the fight, does it still hurt?”

the corners of his mouth start to rise as he encroaches into your space, eyes lusty, “nothing a little kiss won’t make better.”

your breath hitches and you feel like pushing him away to hide how easily he’s affected you, “you’re shameless.”

toji is inches away from your face now, and he tilts his head in fake hurt, “i took those punches from the lowlife trying to steal my girl away, doesn’t that mean i deserve a reward?”

you try to keep your face serious as you deadpan, willing your need to laugh away as best you can, “your girl?”

“my girl,” toji grins sleazily

you’re about to bite back when the waiter comes back with the bottle of wine toji ordered for you and the menus for tonight’s dinner. toji takes the bottle from the waiter and insists on serving you your glass himself while you begin to look at the menu. choosing a meal was difficult with all the delicious options available, every description making your mouth water, you wanted everything. when you complained to toji about not knowing what to get because of all the options, he brushed you off while still reading his menu.

“get whatever you want, we can come again and again until you try everything.”

well that’s one way to make you horny

so you settled for these sauteed calamari rings with a savory sounding sauce while toji got a steak under the pretense that ‘i need to stock up on protein after fights.’

while the both of you eat, good conversation comes up and the previous tense awkwardness of the both of you goes away.

“i haven’t dated anyone since my sophomore year of college,” you say while taking a sip of wine to wash down a bite of calamari

toji quirks up a brow in disbelief at your statement while he takes a sip of his water, a scowl almost, as if he’s offended for you, “what about that emo lookin kid—“

you tilt your head in confusion, not being able to pinpoint who he’s talking about, “emo?”

toji rolls his eyes, snapping his fingers at himself, “that kid, can’t even remember his name, with the blue hair, you know–“

“grimmjow?!” you gape, eyebrows knit

“yea that fucker,” toji nods before he takes a bite of his steak

“I never even got to have a thing with grimmjow,” you deadpan, swiveling the glass of wine in your hand, “we kissed like once and then he told me he wasn’t ready for anything the next day.”

“silver spoon made it seem like you guys fucked.”

you sigh in agonizing pain that your white haired freak best friend loves to say you fuck frequently, “satoru says that because he feels my dry spell more than me. horny ass. he wishes i could get laid.”

“what,” toji snickers, “haven’t fucked in a year or something?”

this was going to be a pain

“three years,” you clarify, staring at him with bored eyes because you know you’re going to get a reaction because of this, “with my ex was the last time. and i lost it to him.”

toji eyebrows immediately raise and he looks at you like you’re insane, “you’re lying.”

“don’t you think id rather say i just got laid two weeks ago or something?” you quizically ask him

“well yeah,” he scoffs, “but i'd rather you not at that point.”

you knowingly squint your eyes at him, jabbing a fork of calamari, “why’s that?”

and you laugh when toji drops his napkin back onto his lap very done with you and blankly stares you down.

“how long have you liked me anyway,” you continue, hoping and praying on the small chance that toji pined for you as much you did for him so that you didn’t feel as pathetic

he stays quiet for a bit, as if he didn’t hear you, and you feel embarrassed that you’re about to repeat himself until he looks up from his meal and says, “ever since business boy posted a picture of you before i got the chance to meet all of you.”

hoping and praying did you well

you had to physically stop yourself from giggling like a schoolgirl by holding your hands in fists under the table, “and..why did you never make a move?”

“i thought you had a crush on sukuna for a good four months,” he shrugged and if you were seeing right, there was a pink hue dusting the tips of his ears, “after i figured out you didn’t, i pussied out because i didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

then his eyes fixated on you, “what about you huh?”

you felt yourself growing small in your seat, beginning to play with the ends of your dress, “well, when we met and you told lent me your jacket because my cardigan was thin…”

“both of us have been idiots this entire year huh,” toji joked, laughing at himself and you

“yeah,” you meekly agreed, taking a woeful gulp of wine until you came to a realization, “wait, is that why sukuna thought you didn’t like him for the first few months of knowing him?!”

“i have no idea what you’re talking about,” the fighter grunted, looking to the side as he drank another gulp of water

by the time your date with toji ended you were as happy as could be, having felt fulfilled that yes you were on a date with your long time crush, but that you were also very compatible and had amazing chemistry. you kissed briefly, outside the restaurant when your heel got caught on a pebble and he held you upright so as to stop you from falling. you pulled him in for it to thank him and he held onto your waist so fucking well, the fact that his hand was almost the same size as your back was dizzying.

he had asked for another date the following afternoon for brunch with him and you couldn’t deny, wanting to spend more time with him. you were telling satoru this on the phone before he said…

“so when are you guys getting it on?”

if you could, you’d throw something at him through the phone right now.

“you are such a pervert!”

“i am not,” satoru defends, “okay maybe a little, ha. but in all honesty when are you two going to rip off the bandaid? it’s not like you’re strangers and you have to do that awkward period of oh im respecting your space crap. oh my god, does he know you’ve never gotten head?”

your cheeks flush hot, “no.”

“this is hilarious,” satoru jeers, “try to last longer than two seconds when he eats it.”

you sprawl across your bed and almost scream, “stop, because im going to be really embarrassed if that happens!”

“i think it’d be a miracle if it didn’t happen,” you can hear the millionaire open another candy wrapper before stuffing the sweet into his mouth, “so when are you sealing the deal?”

“when even is the appropriate time?” you gaze at your ceiling, feeling hot all over your body and embarrassed that you’re talking to your friend about having sex with one of your other friends

“personally, i think he would’ve done it by tonight already.”

“you think?”

“he looks at your boobs when you aren’t looking.”

“what?! why didnt you tell me this before?” you sit upright in your bed

“him wanting to fuck you is obvious, i just didn’t know if he liked you, so i kept it to myself.”

“unfair,” you huff, falling back into your comforter, staring at the ceiling in silence until you felt your phone beginning to vibrate

pending call - toji

“toru, ill catch up with you some other time, toji’s calling me,” you usher out and immediately accept the incoming call before the snow haired devil can say something cheesy.

“hi,” you breathe out

“hey,” toji’s gruff voice responds through the small speaker, “how are you feelin?”

“about the food or you?” you tease

“both.”

“wish i could’ve eaten some of that peach cobbler the couple next to us ordered,” you fluff up a pillow behind you, wondering if you should go forward with a thought before you think fuck it, and say, “wish i could’ve kissed you more.”

“i can get you both angel.”

“what are you doing?”

“just put some patches on my back, ‘s sore,” theres a moment of silence before he quips, “was thinking about you.”

“me too,” you sigh, hoping he can’t hear how dreamy you unintentionally sounded

“what about me?” you can hear the smirk in his voice

and you indulge him a little, just to fuck with him, “how big your hands are.”

“you like ‘em?”

“mhm, they looked nice with the bruises on them too.”

“ ‘s that why you kept holding onto them?”

“maybe,” you watch as you kick your feet up in the air, finding something to exert your energy

“yours are soft,” he breathes, “i like it.”

“you know what else is soft?”

“what?” you can hear his energy shift

“my hair, i use really good conditioner and product.”

“fuckin tease.”

you turned around in your bed to hold your head in one of your hands, “what ever do you mean by that toji?”

“you always pull shit like this and you know it. you made me think i forgot your birthday last week.”

you laugh at his offense, noting that you did get a good scare out of him last week when you pretended he said your birthday wrong, “okay that was a one time thing though.”

“and then you told me the chinese restaurant i sent you to had shitty lomein.”

he had recommened the restaurant to you last month based on the premise that the lomein was good as hell and that you’d like it. you didn’t think he’d fall for it, but you told him it was crap just to fuck with him and he couldn’t function for a minute.

“okay okay maybe i do pull shit like that every once in a while,” you digress

“every once in a while…” the scowl on toji’s face is quite loud when he responds

“every once in a while,” you punctuate with a sing songy voice

after your brunch date with toji the following day, he took you vase shopping because when he showed up at your place to pick you up he had another very large bouquet of flowers in his hands for you. and unfortunately, you couldn’t even fit all the flowers from the night before into the three vases you had.

he took you to a high end home furniture store that you were pretty sure millionaires only shopped in, your theory being proven when a rug you passed by was the exact same one satoru kept in his apartment and shamelessly replaced when shoko got red wine on it.

“woah,” you say when you get to the vase section, “this is way different than the ones at ikea.”

“see anything you like?” toji moves to stand next to you while you take in the vast number of beautiful vases in front of you

and at first you think you have nothing to say, unable to pick from all the beauties in splayed out for you, until your eyes spot a pretty almost seashell shaped vase, with defining ridges, colored gold, it was beautiful and you wouldn’t mind a number of those decorating your apartment.

“i like this one,” you murmur as you walk up to it, noticing the slight iridescent shimmers on it

you can see toji raise his hand and make some sort of mannerism towards someone, you assume a worker, out of the corner of your eye after you say that.

which led to the predicament of accompanying toji into your apartment numerous times as he carried the multiple boxes carrying the same vase into your apartment. you weren’t allowed to, he had demanded. he even eyed you threatningly when you made to pick up your own box to take with him.

by the time he had brought in the last box you were very antsy, trying to find something to do in return for him like offer a water or food, or what fucking ever, just anything in exchange for his buying you multiple luxury vases and carrying them into your apartment.

“i did that shit because i like you and i think you deserve it,” toji huffed, eyeing you pointedly while he accepted the glass of water you had offered him, “don’t get all weird.”

“okay…” you nervously looked to the side as you traced invisible lines across your kitchen island, “at least sit for a while before we have to unpack them and put the flowers in them. please?”

the tall and buff fighter let your small and nimble hands drag him to your couch by the arm and then guide him to sit on it, with you following after.

“I was watching grey’s anatomy before you came over,” you start, looking at him earnestly, “do you wanna watch some with me?”

toji set the glass of water on your coffee table then splayed his arm behind you on the couch and nodded, “go for it.”

“okay,” you smiled lightly then, much to his obvious surprise, crawled over him and reached for the remote next to him, tucked into the corner of the couch just a little, then went back to your original spot next to him.

your eyes were focused on opening netflix when he spoke, “is that the uh–the show with the doctors and crap?”

you pressed play when you set the remote off to the side and leaned more into his space, “yeah! it’s a little cheesy, but it’s fun to watch, at least before a certain season. after that it just goes downhill.”

“alright,” the ravenette said, leaning closer to your space too

“glow in the dark,” toji exhales a light laugh at the mention of glow in the dark condoms

“ever tried those?” you look up at him from where you’re tucked underneath his arm, hand splayed across his chest and abdomen area

“never knew they were a thing,” he smirks, “you?”

“i don’t even know what head’s like,” you roll your eyes, “as if i would’ve gotten to the exploration stage of fucking.”

you can see toji visibly stiffen at your comment

“what?”

“there’s no way in hell that fucker didn’t eat you out,” he’s sat up straighter now, eyes pining you under his gaze

“well there is a way in hell,” you move your hands as if to gesture ‘it is what it is’, “he didn’t like the taste.”

“what, he got a wonder dick or something?” he looked annoyed, “that do the job?”

“i did not ever orgasm, so no,” you laugh, finding it funny how pissed he’s getting on your part, “why are you so pissy for me zenin?”

he gives you one glance before looking forward at the tv to avoid your gaze, sighing a little, “it’s stupid, is all.”

“me not getting head?” you’re still staring at him even though he’s watching george and alex bicker on the tv

“yeah,” he nods

and satoru’s words play through your mind again, ‘personally, i think he would’ve done it by tonight already.’

but you shake the thought away before you start something stupid and reassume your cuddling position next to toji, watching as it gets revealed that the neurosurgeon lover has a wife already. the previous piece of information making toji uncharacteristically scrunch his nose and look as if he wants to spit at the screen.

“what,” he looks at you, eyes waiting in earnest for the next episode, “that the end? start the next one.”

“are you sure,” you giggle at his sudden interest in the soap opera.

toji sinks into his spot on the couch, bringing you closer to him with a hand on the skin just above your knee, “yeah, play it.”

while you take the remote to start the new season, you laugh, then place it down before leaning up and placing a chaste kiss on the fighter’s lips, “you’re cute.”

he gives you a bored look, obvious in expressing that cute is not something he wants to be described as, but you can also feel the grip he has on you twitch for a second.

“what?” you smile, “can i not call you cute?”

“can’t you find something better?” he says, trying not to roll his eyes

“not when you’re acting cute,” you sit up a little and grab his face to place a kiss on his forehead, then his nose, which scrunches up cutely at the action. you can see toji try to chase your lips just the slightest when he sees your mouth fall away from his nose and wander so close to his mouth. you use the observation to tease him, making it look as if the next destination was his lips until you go further down and land a peck on his chin.

toji’s had enough of it, it seems, when he swoops a hand under your jaw and near your neck and guides you to his own mouth. he's soft about it, simply trying to taste your lips and memorize the feeling of your lips on his, until–you dont know who–one of you takes a sensual turn and makes it much more intense than need be. although unable to find the culprit of before, you can say that toji’s first in sliding his tongue into your mouth moments after. he does it slowly, flicking the muscle to tease at your own before retreating, as if waiting for yours to give the same response and you do, shyly dipping yours in to lick across his tongue. almost like he lured you in, he intertwines his muscle with yours upon the interaction and you can’t help the small high pitched moan that escapes you.

on some sort of instinct, toji uses the hand on your knee to hook it under his grasp and guide you to his lap, planting you thigh to thigh on top of him. your hands, having forgotten what to do in these situations, awkwardly place themselves on his chest, shakily feeling the hardness of his chest underneath them. he grabs onto one of them, caressing the skin of it, while his other hand finds comfort in your waist.

a second moan makes it way out of your throat and toji’s hips buckle up subconsciously, which makes you gasp into his searing kisses. the action has you noting that he’s hard underneath you and the exact size of him is a curiosity to you, the thought making you reach a hand down to hold him.

he’s big, an ‘it’s going to hurt’ kind of big.

“don’t…” he grunts out, letting go of the hand holding onto his chest and reaching down to take off the one holding his length, “touch unless you’re ready.”

“i’m ready,” you shift your hips atop of him and being forced to look at him when he pulls away from the kiss, lips pink and splotched and his pupils blown out.

“I can wait,” he says, trying to control his breathing, the expanse of his chest rising and falling so controlled even though the look in his eyes says otherwise, “don’t worry about me, if that’s it.”

“well I can’t,” you tug at one of the buttons of his shirt for emphasis, then guide one of his hands underneath your skin and near your inner thighs, “feel me.”

slowly and hesitantly, toji moves his hand onto your panties and runs a finger across the excessively damp wet spot of them.

“fuckin tease,” he groans at the touch, sliding his finger across again and again, earning mewl after mewl from you

“do you want me?” you shyly pant as you hold onto his free arm, fighting the need to put your head in his shoulders

“yeah, i fucking want you,” toji growls as he pushes you onto his chest by a hand on your back

he maintains eye contact with you when his hand pushes your panties out of the way and immediately slips a finger into your heat. the pressure of his gaze turns feral when your eyebrows knit and a loud moan leaves your lips.

for some reason, trying to excuse the loud reactions he’s about to get from you, you heave, worried, “i—i haven’t done this in a long time and–oh mmmm–i won’t be able to help myself.”

“think i care?” he huffs, concentrating on you when he slips a second finger inside and curls them both curiously to find your spot, which he does, smirking a little when your hold on him grows tighter and your hips wiggle at the pleasure, “scream all you want princess.”

he starts jutting in his fingers quickly in and out of you after the words leave his mouth, and the stretch is so good, so unlike your small hands that haven’t been able to do crap for years, that you start squealing and hug toji in by the back of his neck and shoulders.

“there you go, there you go baby,” he coos, smiling a little at the cute sounds you’re making and relishing in the squelch of your pussy while his fingers abuse it.

“wait–wait–” you heave, beginning to push him away, even though the advance is useless due to his iron grip and try to explain an embarrassing admission so as to warn him, “i feel like im gonna–”

he gives you no chance to finish your sentence when he punches in a third finger and makes you nearly scream.

“what?” he breathes, lusty eyes boring into your own, “you gonna cum?”

“no–”you shake your head, trying your best to still relay your message even though you can feel your orgasm taking its final steps near, “well yeah–but–but–”

your stomach starts dropping and toji picks up his pace so brashly that you release almost instantaneously all over him. your legs twitch uncontrollably and you bury your face into his neck while squealing through the feeling.

“shit.” he utters, still fingering you through it, “fuck, fuck.”

“i squirt,” you almost cry, embarrassed and shaken up by your orgasm, unable to look at him, “i’m sorry, i tried to tell–”

“shut up,” toji spanks your pussy and doesn’t care when you yelp as he throws you with your back on the couch and starts to tug your panties off, “you’re gonna do it again.”

submitting to him, you shimmy out of your dress nervously while he hastily undoes the buttons of his dress shirt. the burly fighter drags you, so your legs dangle off the couch before he kneels down and places his hands underneath your thighs to spread you out for him

“look at me when i eat you,” toji pinches your clit to get your full attention on his face, “don’t close your eyes or look at the ceiling, none of that shit. got that?”

you nod your head impishly, hesitantly putting a hand on your stomach, itching to hold onto his face or his hair.

his eyes drift to your sex and you can see a hint of irritation paint itself across his features when he mutters under his breath, “didn’t like the taste my ass.”

within milliseconds, toji saves no mercy and starts to eat you out like a man starved. his mouth is hot and wet, and you don’t know where the mess is coming from, his lips or yours. the man spits onto your pussy and so sloppily makes out with your sticky heat, interchanging between that and sucking so harsly against your clit.

your legs are twitching so wildly and the only thing keeping you from scrambling away is toji’s hands that are now wrapped around your thighs to keep you pressed against him.

you’re basically screaming now, in utter bliss from the heavenly feeling, unable to speak.

his eyes keep looking up to bore into yours all while he aggressively kisses your pussy. it has your breath picking up rapidly and goosebumps rising all across your skin. his tongue laps across your lips so foreign yet so deliciously that you can’t help the increasing reach of your orgasm.

“I'm close!” you squeal after a particular suck of your clit, thinking that he needs to heed to the warning because you’re so sure you’re about to squirt on his face

all toji does in response is growl and let go of one of your thighs to start fingering you with two digits rapidly.

he stares you down while you struggle to keep the eye contact, your whole body beginning to twitch uncontrollably and your vision starting to see white until the invisible cord snaps and you feel an immense relief wash over you–and him.

the juices seeping from you seem to spur him on and he doesn’t move in any sort of way to avoid them, instead choosing to lap at them and drink it in all while making growls and groans of satisfaction.

he’s still going at it when you come to, and you start shuffling away–well try to–from him, yelping, “it’s sensitive toji!”

he seemingly listens to you after a few seconds, running his tongue flat against your folds before he lifts his face from you. the entire lower half of his face is covered in your juices and his spit and he looks outright animalistic as he looks back at you.

he gets up and stalks towards you until he’s on top of your body and dives down to kiss you aggressively, making you taste yourself in the process. it’s so erotic, it has your pussy fluttering all over again.

“fuck,” he groans deeply into your mouth, “you don’t have any condoms right doll?”

you shake your head a little, but you wrap your arms around his shoulders and offer something else, “i’m on the pill…so i don’t really mind…”

you can feel his breath hitch and you’re quick to add, “but! if you’re not comfortable without one–”

“you fine with me blowing a load in you?” he mutters and seizes the chance to nip at your bottom lip

“i wanna feel it,” you admit, glad he’s still kissing you so he doesn’t see the flustered look on your face.

“dirty fucking angel,” he says heavily against your mouth before he gets up to undo his belt buckle and push both his pants and briefs in one motion.

he doesn’t even really spring up free like you expected him to. his dick is so hung that well, it hangs. the size looks bigger than what you predicted already when you touched it earlier. your ex, the only person you’ve had sex with, was the stark opposite of this, easy to fiddle with and well below average. the difference of having toji’s thick length right in front of you now had you clenching around nothing.

“you like it?” toji smirks at you while he goes up to you again and moves you so that you’re completely laying across the couch before he climbs up on top of you between your legs.

“mhm,” you nod, looking down and hoping his tip can at least graze your folds while it bobs down near your inner thigh and that’s when you get an idea.

“can we–” you almost hesitate, “can we do a mating press?”

“was planning on it,” he says gruffly when he leans forward and pins your legs next to your head.

you giggle at the words and he smiles down at you, a moment of innocence before the both of you look down and he’s using one hand to guide his tip into you.

the pop of his tip inside of you is overwhelming. you feel like you’re going to push him out in a single clench with how girthy he is. and you think the previous two, very wet, orgasms are what lets him slide into you, even though it stings.

“shit’s fucking tight,” toji groans, both hands back to your legs while he and you watch him pull out nearly all the way and sink back in.

“ ‘s so big,” you huff, feeling like he’s outright in your stomach, “feel so full.”

“bet you do,” he sounds so serious when he says it, still entranced when he starts to pound in and out of you at an average pace that, although it’s not fast, still has you starting to feel tears brim near your waterline

the man above you starts groaning in sync with your moans and whines, shuddering a little everytime you clench and suck him in

“beautiful,” toji groans under his breath and you can feel his pace start to pick up a bit, “getting fucked on a huge cock, little princess slut. tiny fucking hole’s begging for help.”

the mean words mixed with his praise has you feeling epically embarrassed yet turned on all at the same time and all you can do is moan in response

“you like getting called a slut?” he presses himself against you, almost chest to chest, smirking evilly while he raggedly breathes, “or princess? or you like me talking about splitting your pussy open?”

“all…of it,” you gasp through two punctual thrusts of his, he’s hit your cervix multiple times but the pleasure is so overwhelming, you’re starting to enjoy it

toji snickers a little, opening your legs a bit further to expose more of your torso, your tits being part of it and his intention, you realize when he goes down to pop one of your nipples into his mouth. he swirls the bud around his mouth and bites at it with his teeth while he starts to jackhammer into you, making sure each thrust is deep.

his balls start making a pap–pap sound everytime he thrusts back in, accompanying the wet squelch of toji dragging himself inside of you repeatedly.

it’s rough and hard, but more intimate than anything considering the few words being exchanged. the both of you are more concentrated on each other’s presence and reactions because after toji comes back up from your tits, he finds your lips and starts to makeout with you languidly.

the grip on your thighs grows bruising when you mix tongue into the kissing, coaxing him to do the same too.

“feel so fucking good,” he hisses when you clench around him uncontrollably, a sign of your incoming orgasm, “pussy’s close isn’t it”

you nod instead of speaking, concentrating on the delicious drag of his veins against your walls and the prodding of his tip at your g-spot

toji leans close to your ear, voice hard and lusty as he starts to mutter sweet and dirty nothings, “such a pretty girl, taking this cock so good.”

he then bites your ear softly, “you gonna milk my cock like a good girl? squeeze my load all out?”

shivering, you nod again and make a whimper in response

“squirt all over me angel, i know you want to,” toji starts plummeting a bit harder into your sweet spot, finding it again, the action has you looking down at where you’re both connected unable to fathom how large he is and just how he’s making it all fit inside, “look at me.”

one of his hands is gently under your chin now, guiding you to look at him since your eyes had strayed from his own. he’s breathing heavy now and his irises are almost completely gone considering the blown out size of his pupils.

“cum with me sweetheart,” the hand from your chin snakes its way down to your clit so as to start rubbing harsh circles for you, and you just know you’re about to make a bigger mess than before, “wrap that pretty pussy around me. milk the shit out of this dick. cum’s all yours baby.”

“ ‘s too much,” you whine, breathing ragged, “i don’t think–oh my god!”

you feel the pleasure wash over your entire body and come out all over toji’s lower abdomen accompannied by the profuse hard flutters of your pussy on his cock. you release a combination between a whine and a cry, feeling completely wrecked by the sensation.

toji follows you the moment your release gets all over him, his hips stiling and jerking into you roughly, this time giving hard kisses to your cervix instead of the fleeting small pecks from earlier. his cum feels immense, its warmth you can feel pooling inside you as toji sputters it into you.

“shit! fuck!” he groans, watching himself push it all into you before looking back up and taking you into a passionate kiss

“atta girl,” he utters after swiping his tongue across your teeth, one of his hands coming up to tentatively hold one of your breasts, “that feel good?”

tired, you weakly nod and sigh a weak, “mhm”

he lets go of the one hand holding your thigh up and moves both of your legs so that they wrap around his waist. he hasn’t pulled out yet.

“gonna buy you a new couch,” his lips twitch a little as he looks at the surrounding area near the both of you, “shit’s soaked.”

“toji!” you whine, embarrased, and pull him into you so you can hide your face.

toji doesn’t let you, instead pulling away so he can get a good look at you and grin, “you got spare sheets?”

“yeah?” you furrow your eyebrows, “but what does that have to do with the couch?”

“it doesnt. I’m fucking you on your bed later,” he shifts both of your bodies so that you can sit on top of him now just as he shifts the conversation back to what it was, “we’ll go shopping for the couch tomorrow. make it celebratory gift.”

“for the first time we fucked?”

“nah,” he lands a teasing kiss on your nose, “for your first time.”

you roll your eyes at him, “just because its been three years–”

“don’t care, doesn’t count if you never came with shrimp dick.”

a fit of giggles escapes you as you press yourself up against him for physical support, “yeah okay, it’s my first time gift.”

then your eyes stray to his very wet clothes on the floor next to yours, “sorry i got your clothes dirty though. I don’t think i have anything for you to wear either.”

toji puts both of his thumbs at the corner of your mouth to make your pout disappear, he snickers at himself for it, “i’ll call my assistant to drop off some clothes here.”

“how long will that take?”

“long as our shower,” toji huffs as he lifts the both of you up and starts walking to your restroom.

“and how long will that take?” you laugh, wiggling your eyebrows at him and clinging onto his shoulders.

“three more orgasms,” he comments, opening the door and leading the both of you to a very steamy shower.

“you haven’t even made the call yet!”

“shut up.”

#toji x reader #toji smut #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #jjk x you #toji zenin x reader #jjk x reader #toji zenin x you #toji fushigro x reader

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moonchildstyles · 2 months

Text

pleasing

y/n is harry's best friend and she'd never received a valentine's present like this one before.

wordcount: 9.5k+

—————

Just as she finished patting in her skincare for the night, (Y/N)'s phone vibrated for where she had it plugged in, in her bedroom. There was only one person that would be calling her this late at night.

Dismissing the products she had scattered on her bathroom counter, she rushed back into her room. Upon the screen was a blurry, distorted picture of her best friend with his hair on top of his head in different spikes, thanks for a heaping of sticky hair gel and free time during a snowstorm. His name was plastered across the top, the peapod emoji right next to it. She didn't hesitate before she answered the call.

"Harry?" she sang after pressing her phone to her ear.

"Hey, are you busy?"

"I'm just getting ready for bed. Why?"

"Can I FaceTime you?"

She barely had time to give a yes before the call switched to a FaceTime in her hand, her screen lighting up a beat later. In front of her was the top half of his face, revealing only his eyes and up. His hair was pulled back with a claw clip, the angle showing off the length of his lashes and the furrow of his brow.

(Y/N) could see herself in the small box in the corner of the screen, showing off a rather similar angle to what he was giving, though she thought hers was much less flattering somehow.

"Hello?"

The furrow in her best friend's brow decreased at the sound of her voice, giving away the smile that was spreading across his lips even if she couldn't see it on screen.

"Can y'see me?" he asked, his voice sounding muffled and far away.

"Yes, but I can barely hear you. Are you covering your speakers?"

Her world went askew as Harry shuffled his phone in his hand, his mouth set in a comical frown for a glimpse before he righted his grip and was back with the half view of his face. "Sorry, can y'hear me now?"

She hummed a confirmation, smiling to the camera. "What did you want to show me?"

Harry's cheeks lifted, giving away the hint of a dimple in the corner of the frame. "I have new samples."

A gasp fell from (Y/N) lips, excitement filling her. "For the collection?! Or different ones?"

"For the collection."

Her excitement only rose at the new information. "Let me see!" she bubbled, eagerly curling up on her bed, ready to spend the next hour poring over the new development with Harry.

After a small struggle and a lagging view of Harry's face, the camera suddenly turned to show a view of prototype nail polish bottles and first prints of shimmery nail stickers laid out on his black bedding.

Even in the low light of his room, (Y/N) could see flecks of glitter in a few of the polishes, the stickers glimmering in the shapes of hearts and flowers. The colors themselves ranged from quiet pastels to vivid brights, some left creamy, others containing barely-there shimmers, and the remainders boasting chunky bright glitters. The collection was large, containing two sets of polishes: one set was full of delicate pastels ranging in the pink family, with the other championing rich, clinging colors. The first iterations of the polish packaging came with the iconic spheres on the tops of the bottles, though this collection featured watercolor petals draped over the shape, leaving the illusion of flowers encased in the bottle all in the same color as the polish inside.

"What do you think?"

(Y/N) was sure he could see the wide set to her eyes, the way she was practically fawning over them already. "H, I love it! This is for the Valentine's collection, right?"

"Something like that, yeah," he answered, his smile evident in his voice, "I figured y'liked the pink ones."

"I do," she chirped, bringing her phone closer as if she could gain a clearer look of each shade that way. "Put your phone closer, I want to see the colors and the stickers better."

Harry did just that without hesitation, bringing his phone to his bed, though he went a step further and picked up the stickers to show off in front of the camera.

Gasping, (Y/N)'s brows bounced over her eyes when she took in the sticker sheet.

"Harry."

"What?"

"Are those bows?!"

He only laughed.

—————

"Goodnight, (Y/N). I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Talk to you tomorrow, H," (Y/N) yawned, unabashedly showing off a downturned angle of the moment while Harry watched on. "Let me know if you want to get dinner later this week. Love you."

His heart squeezed in his chest at her casual declaration. "Love you, too."

With that, the video of her sleepy face disappeared, showing only the simple photo he had saved to his lockscreen. Harry's gaze lingered on the empty space for a heartbeat, just a split second away from calling her back despite the late hour and the fact she'd been half asleep before he'd suggested she head to bed. He forced himself to lock his phone and set it on his bedside table, keeping it out of sight and hopefully out of mind.

Still spread out on his bed, where he had sprawled out his limbs and grew comfortable amongst the bedding, were the new Pleasing products he had been so eager to show off. Everything was still in the test package, nothing completely finalized or one hundred percent polished just yet, but he'd been too excited. He'd shared the concept with (Y/N) ages ago, right after he'd made it out of a meeting with Harry Lambert and Molly, unable to keep the secret under wraps—especially when he found his own inspiration for the collection.

(Y/N).

It had been Molly's idea to unveil a Valentine's themed collection after the small set of apparel that would be released around his birthday, hoping to tap into another facet of him that was so beloved to the public. She had in mind something that would commemorate the love songs he was so famous for; the kind of sweetheart, love-sick energy that he often utilized to make his most memorable lyrics and showcased on stage.

As she had gone on, sharing what kind of feeling she wanted to invoke for the season's rollout, Harry was only thinking of his own inspiration.

It was the same thing that inspired his music, his attitude, his want to improve and be more and more than he started as.

His best friend.

He saw his own idea for the collection coming in flashes of her favorite colors, the shade of the dress she wore to his birthday party, the hue of her eyes, the colors that falling in love with her made him see in the world. He could see her with her fingernails proudly painted in his brand, the way she always did when Pleasing made something new just so she could support him. There were already prototypes of new apparel, manicure stickers, and campaign designs forming in his head.

Harry had come away from that meeting with plenty of ideas to think on, and lyrics forming that he hoped he wouldn't forget before he had a chance to write them down.

Months later, he had enough ideas for more than one micro-collection. Each one had been passed by Molly and Harry Lambert—both being excited and surprised that there was so much to be used and saved for later collections—leaving with a duo of aesthetics they planned on basing the campaign around.

That was what he had shown (Y/N) tonight, and was now spread across his bedspread as he tried to calm down his winding heart after their late night call. He kept seeing her face when she spotted the romantic set that was directly inspired by her, the way her eyes lit up when she took in the shades of pink and the shimmery accents. That had been the kind of reaction he had been hoping for when he received the initial samples.

Collecting each piece, he took his time pulling each bottle, rolling them in his hands with bubbles floating through the polish. He wondered if (Y/N) would catch the connections when he revealed the names to her. He wondered if she would know that he named this shimmery soft pink Woman with her in mind, including inspiration from a song he penned that now was soaked in her memory. The buttery yellow with golden reflects dubbed Home, would she know that was based on the golden dress she wore the first time she saw him on tour? The rich, creamy red he'd called Feast, he hoped she'd see the lipstick she wore the first time they met in the shade.

He lingered over the bottles, all eight shades invoking a specific memory that went into the creation. Carefully replacing them in the drawer with the rest of his Pleasing pieces, ensuring nothing clinked together too hard with the sticker bundle staying together, he allowed himself a moment with the full collection under the bright light of his bathroom. It was near perfect, seeing it all together. All that was left to sample was the apparel that had been drafted up a few weeks prior with Harry Lambert's guidance, and the extra accessories they were debating on adding in the collection.

He had a feeling (Y/N) would fight to take the samples from him. The idea had a small smile spreading on his lips by the time he was flicking his bathroom light off and padding back to his room.

By the time Harry bundled himself in his bedding, his phone settled away in his bedside table, he shuttered his eyes though he could still see the ghost of (Y/N)'s excited face on the inside of his eyelids. Just as much as he hoped she would notice the names of the polishes, catch the fact that the stickers were an ode to her, the apparel made with her form in mind, scents formulated to sweep over her skin, he feared she wouldn't notice in the same way she'd never noticed him in the way he wanted.

Did she remember the yellow dress she wore to the first live show she could make it to? (Y/N) barely ever wore lipstick these days, did she even have that tube of red anymore? Did she ever listen to Woman and hear the words he was too scared to say to her every time she introduced him to a new boyfriend?

The idea needled at the center of his chest just as it always had when he was reminded that he was years into an infatuation that had no sign of ending either from sweet reciprocation or his heart moving on.

Nonetheless, he thought, grasping at positivity as always, he was going to revel in the reactions she gave him as if it were for himself. Those delicate compliments and the joyous excitement, he would hold tight as if they were for who he was and not something that he made.

And, probably try to convince her to be a part of the product shoot.

—————

i'm here !! 🍣🍣

(Y/N) pocketed her phone as she approached the small gate surrounding Harry's home, the concrete divider and plethora of greenery giving privacy to the space. The bag of takeaway sushi hung at her side, the hood of her coat lifted over her head in case there was anyone around hoping to spot a glimpse of Harry's personal life and spin whatever tale.

She didn't have to check if her text went through, having to wait only a moment before she heard him make his way from his front door and going through the protective greenery. "(Y/N)," he sang through the trees, the syllables of her name sifting through the plants.

"Harry," she reciprocated, a smile spreading across her lips at the familiar greeting.

Swinging open the gate, Harry welcomed her in with his hair held back in a familiar flower clip and dimples thumbed into his cheeks. She quickly stepped over the threshold, heading towards his porch while he locked the gate behind her. Only a beat after the click of the lock sounded, he fell into step beside her, hooking an arm around her shoulders.

"Hi," he smiled, dimples clear on his cheeks as he gazed down at her.

"Hi," she answered, her own features curling and softening. Feeling his eyes on her face, she took on the responsibility of guiding them towards the front door without stumbling through his garden. "Sorry I'm late. The sushi place was packed for some reason today."

"Yeah?" he sounded, voice decidedly softer than just a beat before, "'M sorry. I would have gone if I'd known it would be that busy."

"It's alright," she told him, leading them through his front door to which he dropped his arm from around her to instead shut and lock the door, "I just figured it wouldn't be so bad since they just opened, but everyone else probably had the same idea."

Placing the takeaway bag on the coffee table, (Y/N) shed her jacket and the knitted beanie covering her head. She had another question on her lips as she turned to face Harry once more, though that line died once she took in his outfit for the day.

"What are you wearing?"

A small smile spread over his lips at her words though he didn't offer his own response.

His legs were covered in athletic joggers, the same heather green ones he always seems to be wearing lately, but that wasn't what caught her attention. Draped over his torso was a delicately pink crewneck, thick and warm, with Pleasing scripted across the center of the chest in a mauve shimmer.

"That's new, isn't it?" she prodded, stepping towards him with her eyes on the shimmering puff print on the crewneck. He had mentioned something about adding apparel to the polish collection she'd been shown last week, but he didn't offer any specific details.

"Maybe," he teased, "Do you like it?"

Reaching his arms out, he let her see the full piece, including the glittery stitching that ran through the garment and drew her eyes along his form. She stepped towards him, running a finger along the seam at the cuff of the sleeve.

"I love it," she smiled, "I didn't know you were making these."

"I know—I wanted it to be a surprise," he told her, his arm flexing under her fingertip before dropping back to his side with his hands sliding into his pockets, "I know you've been wanting a pink one since the first set came out, so I thought it was finally time."

"For Valentine's Day?" she bubbled, thinking back to the samples he'd shown off to her the week before.

Something flashed over his eyes as they dropped from hers, taking in the rest of her features. "Something like that, yeah."

"Do you have any more?" Before he even answered, she couldn't help herself but to start edging towards the stairs bordering the wall behind her.

A plume of laughter fell from Harry's lips, catching her with his palm landing on her arms before she could scurry away. "No," he drawled as he pulled her back towards him, "But, you can have this one if y'want."

"Are you sure?" she asked, eyes wide as she fixed her gaze on him, hands on his chest over the puff print of the lettering. "I don't want to take it if this is the only one you're testing right now."

Harry shrugged her off, his hands on her arms sliding down in a lingering drag before they finally fell back to his sides. "'S alright. No one knows yet, anyway."

Tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) dropped her gaze from his to peruse over the glimmering neckline of the crewneck. "I don't want you to get it in trouble, though, if you give it away."

He scrunched his features, shaking his head as if what she said was completely incredulous. "(Y/N), I made it for you."

His words were cemented as he began pulling the piece off completely, leaving him in only the vintage shirt he'd had on underneath, the print faded and unfamiliar. He shoved the garment in her arms, a waft of his scent enveloping her.

(Y/N) hesitated for long enough that Harry had to have noticed, prompting him to set a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Really, lovie. 'S alright. I don't want y'to have to wait to get your own."

Relenting, she fell into his chest, Harry wrapping his arms around her with a laugh rumbling his chest under her cheek. "Thanks, H. I promise I won't wear it out or anything until you announce it, though."

She could feel him smile when he buried his nose into her hair, his arms pulsing around her a snug embrace.

For a brief moment, (Y/N) let her eyes close as she sunk into his arms. The fragrance of his washing detergent and the lingering scent of his cologne that had sunk into every fiber of his home washed over her. There were times she could see her friendship with Harry moving into territory she'd been too fearful to even explore in her imagination, but feeling his embrace and the words I made it for you ringing in her ears, she could be coaxed to imagine a lot of things with him.

Before she could run too far away in her head, she drew away with a bright smile, hoping he didn't catch the warmth under her skin.

"We need to eat before our soup gets cold," she told him, stepping towards the couch with her new crewneck in her arms.

Harry followed after her, becoming a warm shadow as he took his seat next to her. It wasn't until all of the containers were distributed out from the bag, and (Y/N)'s new sweatshirt was folded carefully at her side that he peeked at her from where he was stirring his miso soup.

"I do have one condition with the crewneck," he murmured, taking a spoonful of tofu and seaweed. (Y/N), her own mouth full with a wonton, raised her brow in response. Taking his time to swallow, his words hanging in the air for a beat, Harry finally followed up with, "We might need an extra model for the Valentine's campaign."

"Okay," (Y/N) mumbled, a furrow pinching at her brows. "Do you need me to ask someone? I think I still have a couple of numbers of some of the people from your music videos if you want me to reach out."

A sheepish smile touched at the corners of Harry's lips. "No, I mean... Would you want to be a model? The shoots in a few weeks, so."

Pushing her chopsticks against the wontons floating in her soup, (Y/N) wasn't sure how to respond. "H, you know I'm not a model or anything—like, you remember that, right?"

He laughed at her remark. "Yes, I remember. This one's going to be really special, though, and a lot of fun. I want you to be in it—if you're comfortable."

She mulled over his words, rolling the short I want you around her head. "And this is a condition of taking the crewneck home with me today?"

A single dimple touched his cheek. "Something like that," he tilted his head, stirring his miso soup into a slow vortex, "I am doing you a favor, aren't I?"

She nudged his shoulder with her own, rolling her eyes. "You said it was made for me, how is it a favor to give it to me?" she teased, only shaking her head when he laughed at her.

A beat passed before Harry returned his eyes to her, his features softened and warm. "Really, it would mean a lot to me if y'were a part of this shoot. At least think about it?"

"I can do that," she compromised, seeing her best friend in front of her even if his words touched a separate part of her shoved into a box in the back of her mind, "I'll think about it, and let you know."

It was the way that his smile bloomed across his features, something bright unfurling in his eyes that (Y/N) was sure she already had her decision pocketed away.

—————

As Molly stood in front of the slew of models and talent sitting in wait for the day, Harry stood behind her as if to read the agenda in her hands even if all he really did was sweep his eyes towards (Y/N) standing at the end of the line.

"First up is the pink side of the campaign," Molly read off, presenting the information with a smile while others ran around behind her setting up for the double shoot that would be happening, "Nail techs will be coming around to make sure everyone has something on their nails—remember which group you're in so we get the correct colors on your nails. Hair and makeup will follow afterwards..."

There was more Molly was saying, the outline of the day being extra exhausting given there were two different aesthetics being achieved today, but Harry was much more focused on the extra model at the shoot.

Truly, he hadn't thought (Y/N) would accept. He knew it was much for her to be in front of a camera like this, seeing as his own need for privacy definitely had rubbed off on her, so he hadn't been surprised that she had lagged on her response for a week. It was when she had called asking about details of the shoot, wanting to know about the times and location, and just how long they would be needed on set, all followed up with a chirped I'll be there! that had surprised him. It wasn't until that call that he planned on being on set all day, having previously only meant to pop by for a few hours before leaving everyone to get the real work done without him being in the way. That was how he ended up here right at eight a.m., hair back in a pink flower clip (another accessory for the collection), and his eyes searching for (Y/N).

"Okay, everyone go pick a station and someone from hair and makeup will come help as soon as they can!" Molly dismissed everyone with a smile before turning on her heel and looking around for Harry Lambert.

Harry stood back with the sets coming together behind him as he watched the line of models scatter towards the lit up tables. There was only one that strayed behind, hands in a bundle at her waist with her wide eyes immediately fixing to him. He didn't hesitate before he stepped towards (Y/N), reaching out to her until his arm was slung over her shoulders.

"Y'alright?" he murmured to her, voice low compared to the bustle happening around the set.

"Yeah," she sighed, scanning her gaze along for the last open station, "It's just weird being on set like this when I'm not just here to watch. I don't want to mess anything up."

He shrugged his shoulders, his arm scrunching around her as he tipped his head. "You're probably going to, but 'm sure Molly or someone will be able to fix it."

It wasn't until she looked up at him with her mouth a gape and an accusatory light in her eyes that he broke with his laughter. His shrug became a comforting hug as he held her to his side. "'M kidding, lovie. You're going to be jus' fine—we're gonna take care of you, don't worry."

Harry pulled out the chair to the vanity for her, catching her reflection in the mirror. There was a part of him that, while he watched her, wanted to grab a camera and get his own shots for the campaign. There was nothing more romantic—in the Valentine's spirit—than the quiet moments with a partner; the moments that made it clear they were a team.

He was tugged out of his head when he heard her speak up. "Are you going to be hanging around for the shoot today then? Or are you going home soon?"

"I'll be here all day," he decided then, setting his hands on the back of her chair as they met eyes in the mirror.

Her gaze brightened, seemingly reflecting back the lights ringing the mirror. "Are you going to be in any of the pictures?"

It was the bubbling of her voice, the way she beamed at him that had his own lips curling into a small smile. "Maybe."

It wouldn't be hard to convince his team to let him sneak in a couple of shots. His nails were already done up anyway.

Before (Y/N) could say much more, one of the three nail techs flittered to her station. Familiar bottles of polish were tucked away in her apron, the pink bottles being placed out on the vanity as she offered (Y/N) a bright smile.

"Hi," she greeted, eyes landing on Harry for a split second before bouncing away just as quickly. "I'm Mari, I'll be doing your nails this morning. How are you?"

"I'm (Y/N). I'm doing good, thank you," she chirped, her voice decidedly higher and sweeter than when she had been speaking with Harry a moment before. He nudged her shoulder just a bit, a silent tease. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well, thank you for asking," Mari said, carefully looking at Harry through the fan of her lashes, "And you, Mr. Styles?"

"I'm good, thank you," he offered, his voice low with a pleasant smile given to Mari. He could spot the small ticks that gave away just how aware she was of him, he didn't want to make her any more nervous. "I appreciate your help today, Mari. I've seen some of your work, and 'm really excited to see what you can do for us."

Mari's tan cheeks heated with a small blush bubbling underneath, faint under her skin. "Of course. Thank you for the opportunity—really."

Harry's smile only spread wider when he felt (Y/N) nudge against his hand, her own quiet tease over his dazzling interaction.

Before she could fluster much more, with all of her supplies spread out on the vanity table, Mari concentrated on (Y/N) once more. "Do you remember which group you were in today, (Y/N)?"

"I'm actually in both groups today, but I think I'm a part of the pink shoot first," (Y/N) smiled, tilting her chin upwards to peek at Harry upside down, "Right?"

"Right," Harry affirmed. It was a lot he was putting on her plate, being in both sides of the campaign, he knew that. But, just as he had told her when he laid out the details, it meant a lot to him to see her in both aesthetics. She was the face of the collection in his mind, he couldn't imagine her not pictured in every iteration.

"Long day," Mari muttered, her features school back into a pleasant expression. She plucked her fingers through the bottles, skating over the set of pink varnishes first. "Do you have a preference for what color we use today?"

At this, (Y/N) looked to Harry once more. "Do you? I'm okay with any of them, but is there something you want me to have for the pictures, or anything?"

Instinctively, Harry looked to the creamy baby pink shade embedded with opal flecks. He nodded towards the bottle, "That one if that's alright."

"This one?" Mari clarified, picking up the bottle he had in mind.

"Yes, please," Harry smiled, looking towards (Y/N) with his raised brows to which she gave him a small giddy nod. "And some of the stickers if y'have them."

A quiet gasp left (Y/N)'s lips. He knew she would like that detail.

"Sounds perfect," Mari bleated, asking for one of (Y/N)'s hands before she started prepping for the manicure.

With her on hand free, (Y/N) reached for the opal polish to be painted over her fingers. "Do you mind if I look?"

"Go for it," Mari smiled, concentrating on the alcohol wipe she was swiping over (Y/N)'s nail beds.

Rolling the bottle around her hand, (Y/N) smiled up at Harry. "Is this the final bottle?"

"Mhm," he hummed, a sense of pride touching at the center of his chest, "We changed a couple of things from when I last showed you, but this is it."

He watched her admire the polish, tipping the bottle to and fro as she watched the color inside bubble and shift. The glitters shown in the light, going undetected until catching a ray and sparkling a vivid pink. When he saw her tilt the bottle to catch the name stickered to the bottom, he couldn't help the pulse his hands gave to the back of her chair.

Would she notice? Was the connecting line thick enough to spot?

Labeled on the bottom of the bottle was the word lovie printed in white ink on the black sticker.

"Hey," (Y/N) called, her voice lilting, "That's me!"

She pulled the bottle towards him, showing off the proof with a warming smile on her lips.

His lungs squeezed even as he tried to play it off, squinting at the bottle as if reading it for the first time. "It is, isn't it?"

"Did you do that on purpose?" she asked, alternating her hands once Mari gave a small tap to her wrist.

"Maybe," he murmured. Did he sound as breathless as he felt?

(Y/N)'s mouth pulled into a bubbly smile—just as bright and attention grabbing as the first time he met her. "Harry," she crooned his name, the syllables cradled on her tongue, "I didn't know you did that. It's so sweet."

There was a moment where he wondered if this was the moment. Was this the moment to share that of course he would name one of these shades after her, as this whole thing was an ode to his feelings for her. Was this warehouse being used as their set the perfect place to tell her what every single shade meant to him and how it was tied to her? It wouldn't be so bad, he thought.

Instead, Harry only bashfully shrugged, tipping his shy smile towards his feet. "'M happy y'like it."

Settling her hands for Mari to begin painting, (Y/N) still kept her attention tipped towards Harry. "Is that why you wanted me to be in the shoot?" she asked, leaning towards where he was still stationed behind her chair, "So, there's, like, platonic love in there too for Valentine's?"

Harry's lungs squeezed for a different reason this time. Platonic love between friends. That's why he named a polish after her in his most romantic collection to date.

"Something like that," he settled on, hoping she didn't catch the way his smile fell just a hair.

Though (Y/N) parted her lips to offer a response, she was cut off before she could take a breath. Harry Lambert was fluttering by the stations, keeping an eye on every model readying for the campaign before he met Harry.

"Sue, would you help me bring in all the clothing, please?" he asked, a tenor of stress entering his voice.

Breaking away from (Y/N)'s chair, Harry didn't hesitate before nodding his head. "Course. Where do y'need me?"

Vaguely, Harry Lambert pointed towards the set pieces before he shook his head. "Just follow me."

Absently, Harry tossed over his shoulder to (Y/N), "I'll be right back, lovie."

When he heard a small okay peep from her, he looked towards her only to see her already blinking at him with admiration in her eyes. No wonder he felt so warm.

—————

Harry was sure his dimples were deep in his cheeks as he leaned over Molly's shoulder, looking at the photos popping up on the computer screen as every shot was uploaded. Unsurprisingly, his favorites were of (Y/N).

Her makeup and hair was done minimally in true Pleasing style, leaving everything sheer and pastel. Her nails were glimmering in the light, dreamy filters to be added to the shots that would accentuate the glitter in the varnish. She looked entirely too cozy in the large pink crewneck clad on her torso and the comfy lounge shorts hugging her hips. Though there was still a stiffness as she transitioned between poses, as if waiting for someone to yell at her to fix her stance, he could see her growing more and more comfortable among the set. She made friends with a few of the other models, making it much easier for her to fit into those group shots and allow her laughter to filter through the room.

It made him feel an undeniable hint of pride seeing her grow so comfortable in front of the camera. He knew she never much preferred being in front of the camera like this, so every small breath of progress she made had his heart glowing for her.

Watching every shot come in over Molly's shoulder, Harry was almost disappointed when the photographer called for a cut; the lighting needed to be adjusted apparently with extra props being brought in before the focus would shift to the colorful end of the campaign. He stepped back, giving however many assistants were helping out all the space they needed to take care of every minute change.

As the models scattered, (Y/N) made a beeline back towards Harry, ushering out of the way as quickly as possible. With everyone distracted, he didn't hesitate before he draped his arms around her shoulders in a loose hug.

"How are y'feeling?" he asked, offering her a quiet smile, "Y'look like you're having fun."

(Y/N) leant into him, her cheek smushed against the blocked muscle of his chest. "I am, but I'm getting tired. I don't know how you do this all the time."

A breath of laughter left his lips at her mumbling. "'S surprisingly exhausting, isn't it? Being the center of attention really takes a lot out of a person."

"No wonder you can fall asleep anywhere," she mused, playing along, "Your life is so hard."

"I've been trying to tell you," he smiled, pulsing his arms around her when he realized just how hard she was leaning into him.

She'd been on her feet from the second she had her makeup and hair finished and there were still hours left of her day, even after lunch was served. As much as he was teasing, he was sure she truly was rather exhausted with this being her first time being more than a spectator on set.

A companionable silence settled between them, Harry not needing to peek to know that she'd had shuttered her eyes while he hugged her. From the corner of his eye, there was a familiar production assistant flittering around with the polaroid camera Harry Lambert had passed off earlier in the day, tasked with documenting the day for behind-the-scenes content. Like a sixth sense, Harry swore he could feel the lens focusing on him and (Y/N), but he didn't flinch back or turn to spot the assistant.

Instead, he stayed right where he was with (Y/N) in his arms even when the camera clicked and light flashed over the space.

—————

"I'll be done in, like, ten minutes, 'kay?" Harry murmured, dropping his bag by the station (Y/N) had claimed for the day, "Lambert said there were only a couple of totes left, so I won't take long."

"Okay," (Y/N) nodded, matching his eyes in the mirror as she pulled out makeup wipes, "I should be done by then."

Harry lingered behind her for a moment, eyes bright in the reflection, before he stepped away. (Y/N) felt her skin warm in his wake, heart fumbling in its beats before she settled in her chair. She made a point to fix her attention to the makeup wipe she was skimming over her skin, keeping her eyes forward instead of following after him.

The other models had cleared out as soon as the photographer had called for a wrap, leaving production behind to clean up and clear out for the night. Harry had, of course, volunteered to help clean as much as he could for the night causing (Y/N) to stay back with him. She had helped break down stations and pack props before finally retiring to the final standing station so she could get un-ready herself.

From her peripheral, (Y/N) spotted Molly bustling around, trusty clipboard in hand. Catching her eye in the mirror, Molly finally paused her constant rushing with her muscles visibly relaxing.

"I've barely been able to talk to you today," Molly said in greeting as she approached (Y/N)'s station, gifting a small hug with an arm around her shoulders. "Thank you for helping out today."

"Of course," (Y/N) smiled, the bulbs around the mirror catching the shimmering stickers on her nails that only made her smile stretch wider. "Thank you for letting me be a part of the shoot. I had a lot of fun."

Molly shifted her weight and leant against (Y/N)’s chair, her features softened. "I could tell. Harry was so worried for you this morning," she shared, "He felt bad, like he had made you say yes when you didn't really want to do this."

Wiping the light mascara off her eyes, (Y/N) shrugged, "You know it's not really my thing, but he said this one was really important to him. I'm really happy I did it, though—the collection is gorgeous, you guys really did so well with this one."

"All of the ideas were H's, so I can't really take any credit for it. Lambert and I just put it all in production," Molly shared, fondness on her features. "We only told him we wanted to do a Valentine's inspired collection, and he already had all of these ideas. We weren't planning to do a dual release, but he'd had so many that he wanted to add that it turned into what we have now."

"He didn't tell me that," (Y/N) chirped, feeling herself begin to soften. She had known Harry had a large hand in the creative side of these collections, but she hadn't known that he had brought all of the ideas to the table for this one. "I don't know where he gets all of his inspiration between writing and everything with this. He never stops."

(Y/N)'s teasing comment prompted Molly to laugh along with her, both of them familiar with how hard Harry tended to push himself both creatively and physically.

"Like, you don't know," Molly said, amusement carrying over her words.

A pinch touched at (Y/N)'s brows, her hand slowing over her skin to leave her mascara as only smudges under her eyes. "What do you mean?"

It was Molly's turn to cant her head, her lashes fluttering as she blinked at (Y/N)'s reflection. "I thought that was why you decided to finally be a part of the shoot. That Harry told you."

For a heartbeat, (Y/N) swore she was in some kind of movie scene. The theatrics of the moment seemed to be blown out of proportion, if only in her eyes.

"Told me about what?"

At this, Molly seemingly realized that she may have hinted at something (Y/N) hadn't known anything about. She pursed her lips as if she wanted to keep in her next words, but both of them knew she didn't have much of a choice now that she had started on this avenue.

"That it's you—the inspiration for the collection. He wasn't very good at hiding it before he finally just told Lambert. All of the shades have something to do with you."

(Y/N) was hyper aware of Molly's words, even if the sound of her heart pumping began to flood through her ears.

Strings began to connect throughout the last month since he initially showed her the samples of the polishes. The crew neck he claimed he made with her in mind. The dual collection having four different shades of her favorite color—a fact about her he knew without a doubt. The varnish named after the pet name he had dubbed her as throughout the years, something he had immediately tied to her when she had pointed it out just that morning.

Maybe it was the new information getting to her head, but more and more pieced itself together. That lingering look he gave her in the mirror just moments earlier felt like more evidence, including the way he held her between shots today, tiny moments that didn't feel out of the ordinary for him. Now those memories could be tinted in rose as moments that were only ordinary because it was between the two of them.

"Oh," (Y/N) simply sounded, dropping her eyes from Molly's with a flutter of her lashes.

A beat passed before Molly piped up with an apology in her tone. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I thought you knew, or I wouldn't have said anything."

"No, no, don't be sorry!" (Y/N) rushed, turning in her seat to match her eyes truly, "It's okay, I'm just surprised."

Casting her eyes around the dwindling room, Molly lowered her voice by the time she matched (Y/N)'s gaze once more. "Good surprise?"

Before (Y/N) could give an answer—one she wasn't even sure of—Harry joined their group, He reached towards his bag on the vanity, lookin at the two women with a question in his eyes. "Did you need a couple more minutes?" he asked, not-so-discreetly looking at the shadows left under (Y/N)'s eyes.

She could feel her stilted smile on her lips, but (Y/N) hoped Harry wouldn't notice. "Why? Did I miss something?"

Molly made a quiet getaway with a quick pat to Harry's shoulder, taking his attention for a moment as he gave a small way and murmured his goodbye. For a split second, Molly shot (Y/N) a sheepish glance before she was hustling through the space once more.

When Harry returned to (Y/N), his gaze was scrutinizing this time, a pinch to his brows as he ducked his head to be level with her.

"I don't think so, no," he said, answering her teasing remark. Reaching out, he gently dragged his fingertips over the soft skin of her under eye, picking up some of the smudgy mess on the pads of his fingers. Her breath caught in her throat at the touch, a stillness touching her muscles she hoped he wouldn't catch. He made a show of inspecting his hands with a comically deep frown on his lips. "Thought I saw something, but, no, y'got it all. Ready to go?"

Looking at her through the fan of his lashes, (Y/N) saw the teasing gleam to his eyes, though she swore there was something more floating in his irises.

Had that always been there?

"Um," she mumbled, dropping back into the moment, "Yeah, I'm ready."

The amusement in Harry's eyes faded at her stilted answer. Creases appeared between his eyes as he gazed at her, his bag loose in his hand. "Y'alright?"

"Yeah," she attempted to chirp, hopping out of her chair, "I think the day is just catching up to me and all. Just got really tired."

"Well, then," he started, standing to the full of his height before slinging an arm over her shoulder, "let's get y'home, lovie."

When he gave a small pulse to the cuff of her shoulder, his fingers denting the soft of her arm, (Y/N) tried to remember if it always felt that charged when he touched her.

—————

"Hey, you."

Harry held back a sigh when (Y/N) reached his open arms, burying his nose into her hair as she wrapped her arms around his middle. He settled instead for shuttering his eyes and sinking into her hold. It'd been a long week since he'd seen her last after taking her home after the Pleasing shoot; both he and (Y/N) seemed to be too busy to send more than a few texts to one another throughout the day. It wasn't a secret to him that (Y/N) was the brightest party of his day, but he hadn't realized just how good he had it until she had pulled back those days.

"How are you?" (Y/N) murmured, her voice muffled from the way her cheek was squished against his chest, "I feel like I've barely talked to you since last week."

"Me too," he said, drawing away just enough to see her face with his arms a warm loop around her, "I've been alright, though. You?"

Her eyes skated down his features long enough Harry swore he could feel her gaze like a touch from her hand. His skin warmed in her wake, a pinkened blush surely rising to the surface of his cheeks.

"I've been good," she finally answered, the heartbeat between his question and her response seeming hours long instead of mere seconds. "Just tired still. I feel like I haven't recovered from last weekend, yet."

"'M not surprised, y'worked hard." Harry dropped himself back into the moment, clearing his throat. "Molly emailed me some preliminary shots the other day."

Perking up in his arms, her eyes brightening. "She did? How did they look?"

A lopsided smile poked at the corner of his mouth. "I can show you, if y'want. Jus' need to grab m'laptop from m'room."

All it took was a giddy nod from her and a quiet yes, please! that had him untangling from her arms and heading towards his room.

As much as he wanted to stay right where he was in her arms, he needed a breath of air. Perhaps distance, no matter how small it was, really did make the heart grow fonder and Harry wasn't immune to the effects.

His paces were measured as he scaled his stairs to his bedroom, grabbing his laptop from where it was charging on the side of his bed. The email in question wasn't hard to find, especially since one of his favorite shots—the polaroid one production assistant had nabbed of he and (Y/N) snuggling during a break—was now his home screen on his phone. (And, one of (Y/N)'s official shots was now her contact photo).

Heading downstairs, he found her already making herself at home on his couch. With a blanket his mom had knitted for him thrown over her legs, she was scrolling through her phone despite the streaming service pulled up on his television.

"Comfy already, lovie?" he laughed, crossing from the landing to take his own spot next to her.

"A little," she answered, decidedly reserved in her teasing. That had been much of how it was this past week, (Y/N) too distracted, or tired, or whatever it was to play with him too much. He hoped it truly was nothing more than being a little tired.

Leaning in close, he settled his laptop on his thighs as he pulled up the attachments. Beginning to card through the photos, he offered a short explanation, "They're not edited completely yet, but we've got some of the effects added. We're still picking which shots are going to be used for the site and which will be used for the socials, but it all turned out really well."

Even as every picture lit up his screen, the pad of his finger on the touchpad, Harry favored watching (Y/N)'s reactions as opposed to looking at the shots themselves. He wanted to know if she loved it as much as he did.

The bright colors cast washes of pale color over her skin, shining like the moon at times with others giving a petal softness to the high points of her face. He could tell when a picture of her appeared with the way she rolled her lips between her teeth, a quiet bashfulness softening the edges of her features.

"Wait, wait, go back," (Y/N) asked, leaning forward as if to get a closer look at a missed photo.

Peeling his gaze away from her profile, Harry looked to his laptop to see the photo that had caught her attention was the same one that he favored. An artistically framed shot of their polaroid filled his screen, the nature of the camera already giving fuzzied edges to their forms, an extra set of dreamy editing adding that much more to the sight.

"Y'like this one?" he murmured, a delicate edge to his voice.

"When did they take this one?" she asked, her voice a quiet whisper for only him to hear.

"During that break, remember? Lambert and Molly had an assistant going around to get production shots, and they caught us," he smiled, reliving that moment with her in his arms and the warmth of her form against his, "We're thinking about using this in one of the social shots."

(Y/N) was silent then, her eyes flitting over every pixel that made up the photo. He hadn't expected her to go so quiet.

"But, we don't have to use it if y'don't want to," Harry carefully offered, already rearranging the composition of the offered rollout to accommodate her if she was so uncomfortable. "I can talk to Mo—"

"No, no, that's not—" she started, stumbling some through her words when she managed to meet his eyes finally, "I just... Can I ask you something?"

The connotations of the phrase had Harry's heart fumbling and palms sweating right away. "'Course. What is it?"

Hesitating as she rolled her lips between her teeth, (Y/N) let his words hang between them for a few heartbeats too long.

"Molly told me something after the shoot," she started, her words careful and calculated, "I wanted to know if it was true."

He couldn't imagine what Molly would have shared that would have had (Y/N) so cryptic and unsure. "Okay," he offered, drawling over the word.

"She said..." (Y/N) paused, dropping her eyes from his until they landed on the hollow of his throat—a safe place to look when she was too afraid of his reaction. His palms became that much more clammy. "She said something about how this collection was about... me. That you told Harry that you had all these ideas because they were from me."

In the same moment that time attempted to stop, everything in Harry's body went into overdrive. Was it safe to feel his heartbeat in the base of his throat? Was it normal to want to suck in more air than his lungs needed?

What was he supposed to say to that?

More importantly: what answer did (Y/N) want to hear?

Would she be excited to hear that yes, everything Molly had told her was true and he just didn't know how to tell her himself. It was easier to manifest it all into cute little nail polishes and matching stickers. Or did she want him to say no, Molly's imagination had run a bit too wild, or she had heard him wrong, or, or, or—

"Yes," he suddenly blurted out, his mouth ahead of his brain.

(Y/N) blinked at him. Her eyes floated back to his, bewildered at his blunt answer. "Yes, it's true?"

The dam that was his filter had too big of a crack to be properly repaired, it appeared. There was no holding back the river.

"Yes," he affirmed, a weight in his chest pushing the words out before he could offer more thought, "The—um—the yellow one with the gold glitter, it matches the dress y'wore the first time y'came to one of m'shows. And, pink is your favorite color, so I wanted to make as many different ones as we could so you'd have as many as y'wanted to wear. I don't even know if y'have this lipstick anymore, but the red was to match the one y'were wearing when we met. A-All of them are for—about you."

By the time he managed to zip his lips, there was still plenty to be said but he figured the rambling was more than enough to both humiliate himself and put (Y/N) on the spot.

The longer she didn't say anything in response, the more Harry sweat. His thoughts were nothing but a swirl heading down a drain, too heavy and incoherent to make sense of.

"(Y/N), I—I didn't m—"

As quick as he opened his mouth like a guppy, fumbling over his words, he was silenced with (Y/N) pressing her kiss to his lips.

It was startling at first, taking every ribbon holding him together unraveled, turning him into a scramble. It was only when he felt a careful smile spread over her mouth and she drew away a hair that Harry came alive.

This was what he'd dreamt of, why was he wasting it?

Molding his lips to hers, Harry tasted the soft curve of her cupid's bow when he tucked his bottom lip between her two. Faint traces of a fruity chapstick remained on her mouth, though the only taste he got was her. There was no other way to describe the fragrance other than it being (Y/N). Every soft parting and letting of their mouths gave him a rush of that essence, pulling him in deeper and deeper each time.

The laptop on his thighs was a forgotten object as he turned his body to face her, the device sliding somewhere among the cushions of his couch. His hand landed carefully on the soft of her cheek, feeling a warmth blooming in her skin under his palm. He could feel every pacing of her muscles, feeling how her body moved for no other purpose than to kiss him. It brought a pinch to his brow, an unfurling happening in his chest he couldn't even begin to unpack right then.

While it wasn't an urgent, explicit kiss, Harry didn't want to pull away first. Hours could have been spent on his couch just like this, if not for the fact (Y/N) decided she needed air more than his kiss.

Following her cue, he gave her some space when she drew away. Her skin was warm as she blinked her eyes open to match his own. He watched as a smile spread over her lips the longer she looked at him.

"You like me?"

A peal of laughter fell from Harry's lips, bursting through his chest and filling his bones.

"Maybe. Why?"

(Y/N)'s laughter filled the one place his own happiness couldn't fill quite as well: his heart.

—————

Pleasing's Cupid Collection available now.

(Y/N) barely noticed the notification sliding down the top of her screen, seeing as she was already on the main page of the brand's website. Refreshing the site, the homepage completely rearranged to showcase the dual collection now available for patrons to browse, her own face flashing in the campaign video playing at the top of the page. It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time.

Was this how Harry felt every time he released music? Or really anything for the world to see?

With the way her heart hammered in her chest, she wasn't sure how he survived things like this.

Another notification pinged at the top of her phone. Pleasing had just made a post on Instagram.

Tapping on the dropdown, she was taken from the Pleasing page and to her instagram app. The new post popped up automatically.

The shot showcased a collection of polaroid photos, some of behind the scenes shots of official photos for the campaign and others showing candid moments between the models and production during the making of the shoot. They were all laid out on a satiny pink sheet, a dreamy filter adding gleaming lights and iridescent shifts throughout the page.

There was one familiar polaroid that caught her eye—one that was barely within frame but something she had seen enough times she could spot with the barest of pixels. Just barely, she could see herself leaning against the chest of someone who was almost completely cut out of the frame, leaving only a set of arms to be seen wrapped around her shoulders with her eyes closed in contentment.

Just barely, through the haze of the filter, (Y/N) could see a small tattoo on her companion's hand: a black cross.

As if being summoned by her thoughts alone, those same arms draped themselves around her from where she stood in the middle of the kitchen. Harry's chin settled on her shoulder, looking at her screen as she pulled up the comments on the photos.

"What's everyone saying?" he murmured, his lips pressing against the column of her throat in a delicate kiss.

The smile that landed on her lips was tender and instinctual, something that settled there without her permission. She didn't have to truly read any of the commented reactions to know the public's opinion.

"They love it," she told him, voice a quiet croon.

"Yeah?" His smile was audible in his tone. "I think this one's gonna be the most popular yet."

"You think so?" (Y/N) questioned, swiping out of the reactions if only to see the glimpse of their polaroid once more.

Placing a gentle hand on her cheek, Harry tipped her chin to face him. There was a gleam in his eyes that (Y/N) never realized was so familiar until the first time they kissed. There was a small tug to the corner of his lips, a single dimple denting his cheek.

"Yeah. I've jus' got a feeling."

He dipped his head, pressing his lips to hers.

—————

:)))) thank you for reading, so sorry if there's any mistakes and if theres any questions or anything you have please please send them in! I hope you enjoyed :)

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astonmartinii · 2 months

Text

it's got to be time travel | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem footballer!reader

face claim: jessie fleming (i'm a chelsea fan and i'm sad she left :()

they've got all the time in the world for each other, don't ask them where they got that time from though

note: we're also gonna pretend that the women's football and f1 seasons line up here lol

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | MY SMALL BUSINESS

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 1,203,784 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: last sunday lunch before we both have to go back to work :(

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user1: ffs why do their ACTUAL jobs have to get in the way of my regularly scheduled charles x y/n content???

user2: i personally think that the fia should just give charles the championship and y/n the WSL title so they can just chill together :)

maxverstappen1: not on my watch

charles_leclerc: you don't even follow me? get out of my comments

maxverstappen1: you can't just get given the championship because you have attachment issues WE ALL HAVE ATTACHMENT ISSUES

charles_leclerc: me i get, but y/n doesn't deserve to win?

maxverstappen1: i never said that. y/n is girlboss slay queen

yourusername: too right i am

charles_leclerc: why are you peace and love with her and not me?

maxverstappen1: she's cool, you aren't

yourusername: can't disagree with that babe soz

user3: i have a feeling that these spats might get worse the longer charles is separated from y/n

user4: waa waa we're all sad their being separated but all i'm thinking is UP THE CHELS

user5: i need the treble right fucking now, a charles championship would be a bonus i guess

lewishamilton: will i get a formal introduction to y/n before we're teammates?

yourusername: YES, YES YOU WILL

charles_leclerc: i guess that answers that

lewishamilton: don't hate the player, hate the game

yourusername: i better see your ass at kingsmeadow at some point, it's fun, even if others think they're too good for it

lewishamilton: i'll be there 🫡

user7: can 2025 come quick.... PLEASE

user8: lol does this mean that charles has offered to take carlos to a game but he didn't go?

user9: ugh what a bore

yourusername

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tagged: chelseafcw

yourusername: excited for the new season back with the girlypops :))))))

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user10: treble or nothing I BEG

user11: it's their year for the champions league i've seen the script

alexalbon: no seatbelt ? way to set dangerous examples to your young audience

yourusername: if you're not careful i'm gonna teach my audience how to put their foot up the ass of those annoying her

alexalbon: ugh i hope you lose :P

yourusername: i don't have to hope, i know your ass ain't gonna be in q3

alexalbon: that's TOO far @charles_leclerc does our years of friendship mean nothing?

charles_leclerc: sorry buddy, i am y/n stan first, human being second

yourusername: as he should.

user12: so like... will we see charles in a y/n jersey again in the paddock?

user13: @ferrari stop being so annoying and let him wear what he wants

user14: i think i tasted paradise when they actually let him wear a y/n canada jersey in montreal

charles_leclerc: never seen someone make blue look so good

maxverstappen1: i'm right here?

sebastianvettel: did the homoeroticism of our challenge videos mean nothing?

danielricciardo: do not lie to yourself

yourusername: sorry sluts, you wish you looked this good

charles_leclerc: they'll never be you 🫶🏻

user15: i know the cfcw admin and pr department have a heart attack every time y/n posts

user16: the way she's out here calling three f1 drivers sluts with no repercussions

yourusername: can't be told off for telling the TRUTH

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tagged: charles_leclerc & yourusername

f1: couple goals! charles leclerc takes pole in bahrain while his girlfriend, y/n y/ln, scored the winner for chelsea women!

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user19: okay but i've never been in a relationship and am currently rotting on my couch... so who is the real winner here x

yourusername: my handsome boy is so talented :3

charles_leclerc: not as talented as you, pretty girl

yourusername: nuh uh at least my team is competent

charles_leclerc: errrrr

samkerr20: i think you broke him lol

yourusername: sometimes i think he's more loyal to ferrari than me

charles_leclerc: no!

scuderiaferrari: huh?

charles_leclerc: wait...

yourusername: i see :(

charles_leclerc: i'm LOGGING OUT

user20: charles is so lover boy stuck in his tortured poets department (ferrari formula one team)

user21: the way he's probably yelling down the phone to y/n about how much he loves her right now

samkerr20: he is and it's so loud the whole locker room can hear it

yourusername: but he's so sweet isn't he

niamhcharles17: i guess?

alexalbon: we heard it from his side... barf

yourusername: @lilymunhe are you being starved of romance?

lilymunhe: compared to you and charles YES

alexalbon: ummmm get out of my business y/ln

yourusername: you're ALWAYS in my business buster 🤨

alexalbon: NO! i am just passing down the ancient skill of communication?

yourusername: you're such a gossip girl alex

user21: i know they bicker like siblings, but i know deep down that there have been double dates

charles_leclerc: yes, but y/n and i are much better (no offence lily)

yourusername: did you log back in to restart the argument with alex

charles_leclerc: yes!

alexalbon: boo you whore

yourusername: don't talk to him like that 🤨

samkerr20

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tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc

samkerr20: forced to hang out with the straights... they're actually kind of cute

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user22: you know the couple has to be real cute when even the gays think they're cute

user23: no one can resist the charms of y/n and charles

yourusername: these photos make me think that we are cuter

samkerr20: we are but i didn't want to hurt charles' feelings

charles_leclerc: consider them hurt

samkerr20: boo hoo

yourusername: noooooo i love you xxx

charles_leclerc: hehehehehehehe i love you too xxx

yourusername: i miss you, hurry up and win and come home to me

charles_leclerc: i'm doing my best :(

yourusername: you are the bestest boy

samkerr20: STOP THAT MAKES HIM SOUND LIKE A DOG

oscarpiastri: when will australians stop being victims of this relationship

danielricciardo: this is your first season dealing with them properly, buckle up

oscarpiastri: i'm in a relationship but they make me feel so lonely

maxverstappen1: you get used to it after a while

yourusername: we're right here

landonorris: let us commiserate in peace

charles_leclerc: ??? do you or do you not get free football tickets out of it?

landonorris: yeha but when we go we just have to watch you cry when y/n inevitably wins another trophy

charles_leclerc: I'M PROUD OF HER AND YOU WON'T SHAME ME FOR THAT

user24: chelsea women players must be so confused when these grown men start arguments in the comments of THEIR posts

yourusername

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tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: weekend off... you know what that means

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user25: i know there's over 1.5 million likes but how can i gatekeep y/n?

user26: for real

charles_leclerc: the best weekends are with you here

yourusername: i may have a love/hate relationship with this team, but the catering is banging (i may have to move to italy)

chelseafcw: NO MENTIONS OF LEAVING CHELSEA, NOT EVEN A JOKE - NOTHING!

yourusername: okay, sorry guys (the pasta was so good though)

charles_leclerc: not even for me?

chelseafcw: DEFINITELY NOT FOR YOU, WATCH OUT OR WE'LL BLACKLIST YOU FROM KINGSMEADOW

yourusername: okay, let's pedal this back. i'm not leaving london and we all still love charles, right admin?

chelseafcw: .... yes

user27: when you're in a who has attachment issues with y/n y/ln and your competition is the chelseafcw admin and charles leclerc

user28: no point even showing up

maxverstappen1: i for one am glad when y/n is in the paddock because it means i can sneak in without the cameras seeing me

yourusername: i am a woman of the people

charles_leclerc: she's such a star, everyone wants to see her

maxverstappen1: yeah i'll give you that

yourusername: we're also hot

charles_leclerc: don't you dare respond to that one max

maxverstappen1: 🫡🫡🫡

user29: patiently waiting for the hq photos of them 😚

user30: gonna print them out and put them in my heart locket

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,398,452 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: babe is top of the league (and top scorer)

view all comments

user33: get yourself a guy who flexes your achievements as much as charles does

user34: setting the example tbf

yourusername: my lucky charm, that hat-trick was for you xx

charles_leclerc: would mean more if you didn't score them every week 😭

yourusername: they hate to see a girlboss winning

charles_leclerc: wanna share some wins with me?

yourusername: you're doing great this season babe, not your fault that nasa decided to rebrand to red bull racing

redbullracing: adrian says thanks 😊

charles_leclerc: DON'T SAY IT Y/N

yourusername: you don't even know what i was going to say

charles_leclerc: ....

yourusername: @redbullracing you got a seat???

charles_leclerc: Y/N!!!!!!!!!!

yourusername: whoops

user35: y/n really out here trying to get charles that damn seat

yourusername: i'll stop when the horse team makes a championship worthy car that they don't break halfway through the season...

user36: add ferrari to the group of people who shudder in fear when y/n posts

chelseafcw: fine... we hope you enjoyed (no more italy jokes)

charles_leclerc: i had a great time, i always do when i watch y/n do what she loves (slay)

yourusername: awwwwwwwwww i love you charlie

chelseafcw: okay no need to make admin feel that lonely, damn

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, alexalbon and 1,782,309 others

yourusername: finishing my best ever season with a big trophy haul :) now time to support my trophy husband in his day job

view all comments

user41: she really be out here doing it all

user42: i need her to win the Ballon d'Or Féminin PLEASE IT IS TIME

user43: with charles in attendance, first couples red carpet appearance YES, YES RUN IT TO ME PLEASE

charles_leclerc: unbelievably proud of you, mon amour, constantly inspired by you

yourusername: i love you so much, thank you for being there to support me through it all

charles_leclerc: it's the biggest pleasure in the world

yourusername: i'm all out of winning this season, your turn next weekend?

charles_leclerc: for you, i'll do anything

user44: PLEASE I NEED HIM TO WIN GOOD PLEASE

alexalbon: congrats i guess, you're pretty good

yourusername: thanks, since my boyf is so supportive, it's only natural that you have to try and humble me at every turn

alexalbon: you're more famous than us now, we need to keep you grounded

lilymunhe: don't worry y/n he cried nearly just as much as charles when you won the WSL

yourusername: I KNEW IT

charles_leclerc: i still cried more

alexalbon: it's not a competition bro, we all know you're both helplessly in love

yourusername: that we are

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,309,855 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: happiest when i'm with you (and whoever has decided to tag along), oh and winning a race helps as well i guess

view all comments

user45: CHARLES WIN I REPEAT A CHARLES WIN WE WON?

user46: the way y/n went just as mental as us, her and zecira jumping around the garage (and starting the champagne shower after the podium)

user47: really proving that y/n and charles really are each other's biggest fans

user48: thank the lord the WSL season finished when it did so y/n could be there for this win

user49: y/n would've ran to austria to be there i'm sure

yourusername: you know it 🫡

maxverstappen1: had to let you win so you could look cool in front of your infinitely cooler girlfriend

charles_leclerc: not even gonna bite, i'm too happy to care

yourusername: i'll bite - HIS TALENTED BEHIND SCHOOLED YOUR ASS

maxverstappen1: but i called you cool?

yourusername: i'll accept the compliment now, i had to defend charles' honour first

charles_leclerc: heheheehe i'm blushing

maxverstappen1: gross

user50: i need y/n to permanently be in the ferrari garage, they were on it today (i think out of fear)

landonorris: damn i thought i thirdwheeling lestappen was bad, but y/n and charles is a different beast

yourusername: we're both athletes, need to savour the time we have together when we can

charles_leclerc: sorry not sorry you'll get it when you're in love

landonorris: .... i guess i'll die then

fin.

note: i hope you enjoyed !!!! one last WIP to go and good lord the writers block is kicking my ass. but f1 being back should help!!! + f1 academy, much enjoyed it so far.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc social media au

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mostlysignssomeportents · 8 months

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NLRB rules that any union busting triggers automatic union recognition

Tonight (September 6) at 7pm, I'll be hosting Naomi Klein at the LA Public Library for the launch of Doppelganger.

On September 12 at 7pm, I'll be at Toronto's Another Story Bookshop with my new book The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation.

American support for unions is at its highest level in generations, from 70% (general population) to 88% (Millenials) – and yet, American unionization rates are pathetic.

That's about to change.

The National Labor Relations Board just handed down a landmark ruling – the Cemex case – that "brought worker rights back from the dead."

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-08-28-bidens-nlrb-brings-workers-rights-back/

At issue in Cemex was what the NLRB should do about employers that violate labor law during union drives. For decades, even the most flagrantly illegal union-busting was met with a wrist-slap. For example, if a boss threatened or fired an employee for participating in a union drive, the NLRB would typically issue a small fine and order the employer to re-hire the worker and provide back-pay.

Everyone knows that "a fine is a price." The NLRB's toothless response to cheating presented an easily solved equation for corrupt, union-hating bosses: if the fine amounts to less than the total, lifetime costs of paying a fair wage and offering fair labor conditions, you should cheat – hell, it's practically a fiduciary duty:

https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.1086/468061

Enter the Cemex ruling: once a majority of workers have signed a union card, any Unfair Labor Practice by their employer triggers immediate, automatic recognition of the union. In other words, the NLRB has fitted a tilt sensor in the American labor pinball machine, and if the boss tries to cheat, they automatically lose.

Cemex is a complete 180, a radical transformation of the American labor regulator from a figleaf that legitimized union busting to an actual enforcer, upholding the law that Congress passed, rather than the law that America's oligarchs wish Congress had passed. It represents a turning point in the system of lawless impunity for American plutocracy.

In the words of Frank Wilhoit, it is is a repudiation of the conservative dogma: "There must be in-groups whom the law protects but does not bind, alongside out-groups whom the law binds but does not protect":

https://crookedtimber.org/2018/03/21/liberals-against-progressives/#comment-729288

It's also a stunning example of what regulatory competence looks like. The Biden administration is a decidedly mixed bag. On the one hand there are empty suits masquerading as technocrats, champions of the party's centrist wing (slogan: "Everything is fine and change is impossible"):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

But the progressive, Sanders/Warren wing of the party installed some fantastically competent, hard-charging, principled fighters, who are chapter-and-verse on their regulatory authority and have the courage to use that authority:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/18/administrative-competence/#i-know-stuff

They embody the old joke about the photocopier technician who charges "$1 to kick the photocopier and $79 to know where to kick it." The best Biden appointees have their boots firmly laced, and they're kicking that mother:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/16/the-second-best-time-is-now/#the-point-of-a-system-is-what-it-does

One such expert kicker is NLRB General Counsel Jennifer Abruzzo. Abruzzo has taken a series of muscular, bold moves to protect American workers, turning the tide in the class war that the 1% has waged on workers since the Reagan administration. For example, Abruzzo is working to turn worker misclassification – the fiction that an employee is a small business contracting with their boss, a staple of the "gig economy" – into an Unfair Labor Practice:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/10/see-you-in-the-funny-papers/bidens-legacy

She's also waging war on robo-scab companies: app-based employment "platforms" like Instawork that are used to recruit workers to cross picket lines, under threat of being blocked from the app and blackballed by hundreds of local employers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/30/computer-says-scab/#instawork

With Cemex, Abruzzo is restoring a century-old labor principle that has been gathering dust for generations: the idea that workers have the right to organize workplace gemocracies without fear of retaliation, harassment, or reprisals.

But as Harold Meyerson writes for The American Prospect, the Cemex ruling has its limits. Even if the NLRB forces and employer to recognize a union, they can't force the employer to bargain in good faith for a union contract. The National Labor Relations Act prohibits the Board from imposing a contract.

That's created a loophole that corrupt bosses have driven entire fleets of trucks through. Workers who attain union recognition face years-long struggles to win a contract, as their bosses walk away from negotiations or offer farcical "bargaining positions" in the expectation that they'll be rejected, prolonging the delay.

Democrats have been trying to fix this loophole since the LBJ years, but they've been repeatedly blocked in the senate. But Abruzzo is a consummate photocopier kicker, and she's taking aim. In Thrive Pet Healthcare, Abruzzo has argued that failing to bargain in good faith for a contract is itself an Unfair Labor Practice. That means the NLRB has the authority to act to correct it – they can't order a contract, but they can order the employer to give workers "wages, benefits, hours, and such that are comparable to those provided by comparable unionized companies in their field."

Mitch McConnell is a piece of shit, but he's no slouch at kicking photocopiers himself. For a whole year, McConnell has blocked senate confirmation hearings to fill a vacant seat on the NLRB. In the short term, this meant that the three Dems on the board were able to hand down these bold rulings without worrying about their GOP colleagues.

But McConnell was playing a long game. Board member Gwynne Wilcox's term is about to expire. If her seat remains vacant, the three remaining board members won't be able to form a quorum, and the NLRB won't be able to do anything.

As Meyerson writes, centrist Dems have refused to push McConnell on this, hoping for comity and not wanting to violate decorum. But Chuck Schumer has finally bestirred himself to fight this issue, and Alaska GOP senator Lisa Murkowski has already broken with her party to move Wilcox's confirmation to a floor vote.

The work of enforcers like DoJ Antitrust Division boss Jonathan Kanter, FTC chair Lina Khan, and SEC chair Gary Gensler is at the heart of Bidenomics: the muscular, fearless deployment of existing regulatory authority to make life better for everyday Americans.

But of course, "existing regulatory authority" isn't the last word. The judges filling stolen seats on the illegitimate Supreme Court had invented the "major questions doctrine" and have used it as a club to attack Biden's photocopier-kickers. There's real danger that Cemex – and other key actions – will get fast-tracked to SCOTUS so the dotards in robes can shatter our dreams for a better America.

Meyerson is cautiously optimistic here. At 40% (!), the Court's approval rating is at a low not seen since the New Deal showdowns. The Supremes don't have an army, they don't have cops, they just have legitimacy. If Americans refuse to acknowledge their decisions, all they can do it sit and stew:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/26/mint-the-coin-etc-etc/#blitz-em

The Court knows this. That's why they fume so publicly about attacks on their legitimacy. Without legitimacy, they're nothing. With the Supremes' support at 40% and union support at 70%, any judicial attack on Cemex could trigger term-limits, court-packing, and other doomsday scenarios that will haunt the relatively young judges for decades, as the seats they stole dwindle into irrelevance. Meyerson predicts that this will weigh on them, and may stay their hands.

Meyerson might be wrong, of course. No one ever lost money betting on the self-destructive hubris of Federalist Society judges. But even if he's wrong, his point is important. If the Supremes frustrate the democratic will of the American people, we have to smash the Supremes. Term limits, court-packing, whatever it takes:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/20/judicial-equilibria/#pack-the-court

And the more we talk about this – the more we make this consequence explicit – the more it will weigh on them, and the better the chance that they'll surprise us. That's already happening! The Supremes just crushed the Sackler opioid crime-family's dream of keeping their billions in blood-money:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/11/justice-delayed/#justice-redeemed

But if it doesn't stop them? If they crush this dream, too? Pack the court. Impose term limits. Make it the issue. Don't apologize, don't shrug it off, don't succumb to learned helplessness. Make it our demand. Make it a litmus test: "If elected, will you vote to pack the court and clear the way for democratic legitimacy?"

Meanwhile, Cemex is already bearing fruit. After an NYC Trader Joe's violated the law to keep Trader Joe's United from organizing a store, the workers there have petitioned to have their union automatically recognized under the Cemex rule:

https://truthout.org/articles/trader-joes-union-files-to-force-company-to-recognize-union-under-new-nlrb-rule/

With the NLRB clearing the regulatory obstacles to union recognition, America's largest unions are awakening from their own long slumbers. For decades, unions have spent a desultory 3% of their budgets on organizing workers into new locals. But a leadership upset in the AFL-CIO has unions ready to catch a wave with the young workers and their 88% approval rating, with a massive planned organizing drive:

https://prospect.org/labor/labors-john-l-lewis-moment/

Meyerson calls on other large unions to follow suit, and the unions seem ready to do so, with new leaders and new militancy at the Teamsters and UAW, and with SEIU members at unionized Starbucks waiting for their first contracts.

Turning union-supporting workers into unionized workers is key to fighting Supreme Court sabotage. Organized labor will give fighters like Abruzzo the political cover she needs to Get Shit Done. A better America is possible. It's within our grasp. Though there is a long way to go, we are winning crucial victories all the time.

The centrist message that everything is fine and change is impossible is designed to demoralize you, to win the fight in your mind so they don't have to win it in the streets and in the jobsite. We don't have to give them that victory. It's ours for the taking.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks

#nlrb #cemex #unions #labor #class war #photocopier kickers #ulp #unfair labor practices #jennifer abruzzo #thrive pet care #national labor review board #scotus #afl-cio #trader joes #harold meyerson #labor day #pluralistic

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allthebrazilianpolitics · 1 year

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Collagen craze drives deforestation and rights abuses

For the first time an investigation has linked collagen powder to violence against Indigenous peoples in Brazilian forests

The stench arrives before the lorries do. They are carrying skins that were stripped from cattle carcasses days ago. Flies are everywhere.

The lorries’ destination is Amparo, a small industrial town in São Paulo state, southeastern Brazil. Here, Rousselot, a company owned by the Texan business Darling Ingredients, extracts collagen – the active ingredient in health supplements at the centre of a global wellness craze.

But while collagen’s most evangelical users claim the protein can improve hair, skin, nails and joints, slowing the ageing process, it has a dubious effect on the health of the planet. Collagen can be extracted from fish, pig and cattle skin, but behind the wildly popular “bovine” variety in particular lies an opaque industry driving the destruction of tropical forests and fuelling violence and human rights abuses in the Brazilian Amazon.

An investigation by the Bureau of Investigative Journalism, the Guardian, ITV and O Joio e O Trigo has found that tens of thousands of cattle raised on farms damaging tropical forests were processed at abattoirs connected to international collagen supply chains.

Some of this collagen can be traced all the way to Nestlé-owned Vital Proteins, a major producer of collagen supplements championed by the actress Jennifer Aniston. Vital Proteins is sold globally – including online on Amazon, in Walmart stores in the US, in Holland & Barrett and Boots in the UK and in Costco in both countries.

The investigation – the first to connect bovine collagen with tropical forest loss and violence against Indigenous peoples – found at least 2,600 sq km of deforestation linked to the supply chains of two Brazil-based collagen operations with connections to Darling: Rousselot and Gelnex, which is in the process of being acquired by Darling for $1.2bn. It is unclear how much of this deforestation, which was calculated by the Center for Climate Crime Analysis, is linked to Vital Proteins.

#brazil #politics #brazilian politics #environmental justice #environmentalism #indigenous rights #beauty industry #mod nise da silveira #image description in alt

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margaretthatchersdead · 1 year

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Reasons to end the monarchy: Charles Edition

Well it's the coronation so you know what it's time for.

The entire concept of a monarchy is actively undemocratic. The head of state should not be someone who is only in that position because they were born into a certain family.

Having a monarchy upholds classism as a specific family of great wealth and power are viewed as superior to others.

They stand for a history of racism and imperialism. This country has done some truly terrible things in its history and the monarchy are a symbol of that. In order to attempt to begin to undo the harm that we have done, we need to remove this symbol of oppression.

The royal family have previously lobbied the government to hide their own personal wealth. Despite this, we are obviously aware that they have a large amount of wealth.

Prince Charles has himself lobbied the government on a number of occasions. His 'black spider memos' show that he has repeatedly pressured ministers on a wide range of topics from the Iraq war to badger culling to alternative therapies. He has used his power to lobby the government on subjects that would affect him.

The monarch does not occupy a ceremonial role as is frequently claimed. Ministers and civil servants have to consult the monarch. Civil servants have to get the consent of the royals on pieces of legislation, which can cause delays on implementation.

Even if the monarch did occupy a purely ceremonial role, as a literal billionaire he wields a ridiculously high amount of power over people.

Windsor Castle brings in less money than Windsor Legoland does. The many castles that are owned by the royal family could be used to create spaces for the public to enjoy or to be used as a shelter for the homeless. The Louvre in Paris used to be house of the French monarchy and gets over twenty times the tourists. Edinburgh castle hasn't had the monarchy live in it for centuries and yet still brings in tourism.

Prince Andrew is widely known to be connected to Jeffrey Epstein; yet he has not had to face any repercussions for his actions despite blatantly lying when being asked about his actions. The royal family have defended him and prevented him from facing the consequences of his actions.

They cost around £334 million per year. This money could be used to help the poor, given to the NHS, to repair and build infrastructure, to support small businesses that are struggling, pretty much anything.

The royal household publishes a much lower figure about the cost of the royal family, so they are actively trying to cover up their cost.

Charles has had access to confidential Cabinet papers, undermining our democracy.

He has publicly championed alternative medicine and has repeatedly promoted it. He sent at least seven letters to the Medicines and Healthcare products Regulatory Agency, that then shortly relaxed the rules governing the labeling of herbal products, ones he as part of Charles's Duchy Originals produces.

He lobbied the health secretary regarding greater provision of alternative treatments on the NHS.

In 2018, 46% of Britons wanted him to abdicate immediately after Elizabeth died. He’s barely wanted by the country even with the sheer amount of pro-monarchy propaganda going around. Charles specifically is very unpopular.

In order to speak to him, broadcasters had to sign a 15-page contract, which includes Clarence house attending the rough and fine cut edits of films and if unhappy can remove that contribution, as well as stipulating that all questions directed at him must be pre-approved and vetted by his representative.

His personal wealth is £1.8 billion. He inherited a large amount of this from Elizabeth, with it being exempt from inheritance tax. Having an immunity from this tax when others don’t is ridiculous.

The Duchy of Cornwall was named in the Paradise papers.

The coronation is going to cost £100 million during a cost of living crisis.

People have been banned from protesting Charles with official warning letters were sent to anti-monarchists.

Protestors who block roads, airports and railways could face an entire year behind bars. Locking yourself to others, objects or buildings could go to prison for six months and face an unlimited fine. Police are allowed to head off disruption by stopping and searching protestors that they suspect.

The public were encouraged to swear allegiance to the new King when he gets sworn in, this is a deeply disturbing suggestion.

He's a billionaire who's going to use the public's money to celebrate himself.

The monarch has sweeping immunity from many laws

He owns business parks and small rented cottages, six of the ten top residential homes, 285,000 acres of mineral rich land. He’s ridiculously rich in a country where so many people are facing extreme poverty.

#uk politics #british royal family #fuck the monarchy #imperialism #royals #king charles III #may he end up like the first

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taexoxosgf · 6 months

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ACROSS THE ROOM

PAIRING idol!mark lee x idol fem!reader

WORDS 6.4k

SYNOPSIS You were just so beautiful. The type of beauty that seemed unattainable. The type of visual Mark would never approach because he concluded that there are already a million people at your feet.

WARNINGS both are hot (yes, this needs a warning), fluff if you squint (rlly hard), smut, vaginal fingering, oral sex (male & fem receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, multiple orgasms, missionary, doggy, slight hair pulling

NOTES repost. my old account is gone because i’m the dumbest bitch on earth.

February.

It had been two years since your group debuted. The award show season had just concluded and one idol group would host a party to celebrate all the hard work throughout the year.

You practically lived at the company at this point. Eating, sleeping, and spending all your breaks there. SM Entertainment has strict schedules regarding breaks and recovery time which has you constantly feeling as if you’re doing one thing after another.

Idols would rarely have any time for themselves or to let loose. Between the busy schedules and performances, there was scarcely any time for family or friends.

It’s only been two years, and you applaud other groups in the same company who have been slaving away for the past few years. But that was the price for fame and riches. Maybe it is worth it to some people. It was for you.

The art of music and dance was all you loved since you were a little girl. Performing for your family or school talent shows, your love for music never fizzled out as it did with some individuals. It could happen in the future, you think. You’re still early in your career, so you hope to become more optimistic; content with what you have.

This year, the group that was hosts is NCT. Groups from big companies such as HYBE, JYP, YG, etc. were in attendance. Since it was a rare occurrence, the boys split the cost of the mansion. It was such a brilliant idea to do this, you thought. There were so many of them, and it probably didn’t even make a dent in their bank accounts. It was a small price to pay so idols could freely interact without the pressure of cameras, and old friends could reunite.

Even though your group was in the same company as many of the artists, it was difficult to have time for conversations due to busy schedules and different practice areas. And it was almost impossible to run into each other at the company due to its vast size. The possibility, if you could guess, would be about five percent. If artists of the same company rarely saw each other, imagine how difficult it would be for artists from different companies to be companions or friends.

It was easier to become acquaintances to friends if two idol groups had overlapping comebacks. Music Bank, Show Champion, M! Countdown, etc. gave a lot of free time in between to hop over to different waiting rooms to converse with your colleagues. Your group was especially close with G-idle, showcasing false surprises every time your comebacks would be in the same time frame.

Your close friend, Soyeon, stands beside you, her right hand holding a red solo cup.

“So you never hang out with guys, and you haven’t fucked a guy since last year?”

“Nope, I don’t intend to tonight. And you know how hard it is to hang out with idols of the opposite gender. ”

Her hands soothingly rub against the sides of your arms. “No, no, no. I’m not having any of that tonight. When do we get a chance to roam free? No judgment, but this dry spell is getting out of hand.”

You scoff at your friend before continuing, “Unnie, these are basically our coworkers, I don’t know.”

She rolls her eyes at you before standing in front of you, face-to-face, “Oh come on, don’t be a buzzkill babe. So you’re telling me you don’t think anyone is attractive in this house full of hot people?”

Her question causes you to scan around the room and outside the backyard. Your eyes halt for a split second, but continue scanning around, pretending it never happened.

“Oh, I saw that,” she points at you. “There is a guy you wanna fuck!”

Throwing your arms down in a huff of disapproval, you’re about to give in to Soyeon’s frenzy. “Girl, could you be any fucking louder?”

“You better tell me now, I caught you bitch,” she playfully slaps your arm.

You bite your lip slightly, contemplating revealing who it is. Looking up at her, she’s staring at you with anticipation. Her eyes grow wider by the second and you’re not surprised when you’re giving into her puppy dog eyes.

Your hands fall on her shoulders as you close in on the space between the two of you. “Mark,” you whisper.

“Oh my god!”

You wince.

“I fucking knew it! I always thought you guys would look hot together.”

“What? You thought about this before?”

“Maybe. But that’s not the point. I swear I saw him eye you, and only you when you guys got here!” she’s already jumping and pushing you to the backyard before you can get another word out.

You try your fucking hardest to push back against her, but it’s no use. Her drunk ass is already overpowering you.

Mark is beside the pool playing with some of his members and others from different groups. Tossing the ping-pong, the millisecond has him hoping it can make it into the red cup charged with alcohol.

“Fuck,” his failure causes him to throw his head back.

“You fucking suck, I’m three cups from winning bitch!” Yeonjun yells from across the foldable table.

His success in the third remaining cup has him rejoicing, and he daps up his teammates.

“Now give the ball to Sunwoo. He’ll land it at the house next door,” Mark retorts.

“Aw, you’re about to lose, so you’re talking out of your ass.”

“You’re so drunk, you know that?” Mark laughs, ignoring his friends' behavior. He’s stepping away to let the following person use their turn.

He’s looking around at all the people at the house. This was the one night of the year he looked forward to. Just friends having fun and letting loose, no cameras, no one to judge or inspect his every move or facial expressions.

He spots you and Soyeon against the glass sliding doors. You look so fucking hot. Your top accentuated the curve of your waist so well, and he noticed the mini skirt on your body rides up a little more every time he steals a glance at you. The top you wore showed the perfect amount of cleavage and your perky breasts are on display for everyone to see. He wants to be the only one to see them fully. He wants to be the only one to see you naked in front of him.

Oh, how he would love to fuck you. He couldn’t help it. You look so delicious standing there, with your pouty lips and doe-like eyes. Your perfect body and silky hair.

To be honest, he noticed you at the company and could never work up the courage to start a conversation with you. News flash: this has literally never happened to him before. It was never difficult to speak confidently to anyone until you. His extroverted personality suddenly does a one-eighty whenever he contemplates approaching you.

You were just so beautiful. The type of beauty that seemed unattainable. The type of visual Mark would never approach because he concluded that there are already a million people at your feet.

He recalls the few times he passed you in the halls and you politely bowed. Or when your recording sessions would overlap slightly, and he would hear your voice in the studio. Or when he passed by you in those tight clothes that barely covered your body practicing with your group.

Mark couldn’t lie, you were the most attractive out of all of them. He personally thinks, no one could compare, but he has yet to discover what you’re really like. Not the personality you convey on-screen.

This only happens once a year. It was an opening for him to finally converse with you. The company, media, or fans wouldn’t have a clue about it. There would be no confession to them, the perfect chance to shoot his shot. The only thing holding him back would be rejection. At this point, the opportunity is too tempting to ignore as soon as he spots Soyeon pulling you outside the home.

This is so embarrassing.

You and Mark make eye contact as Soyeon drags you out the door. He doesn’t pretend to look away.

“Come on! Move!”

“No! Oh my god! Stop!”

Soyeon finally stops with the physical force, and you both stare at each other. Her eyes move from your eyes to his, another way of telling you to get on with it.

“Think about it, this is the one day of the year where you’ll really get the chance, and with no judgment. Or sneaking around,” she adds in the last part, hoping you would miss it. And you definitely didn’t.

She’s stern on her point, supporting it over and over again with more reasons. The persuasion is working, you think. And now, you’re seriously contemplating it. What’s the harm? Rejection? Embarrassment? You don’t even know if he wants you.

But maybe she’s right. You’ll most likely never run into him after today, and if you do, it probably won’t be until the same time next year.

“I don’t want to hear for months after today what could’ve been. You’ll spend so much time regretting it. I know you better than yourself,” Soyeon adds further.

Her words finally fuel your courage to make a move. “Okay, just give me a second to build some confidence, meditate, or something,” you’re shutting your eyes to soothe the nervousness away.

“Mhm, but maybe make it fast. Hot guy my twelve o’clock, coming your way. You’ll thank me later!” she quickly warns you as she pecks you on the cheek before making her way out of your line of sight.

There is no time for you to process what’s happening, or to prepare after she utters her last words.

Turning around, Mark is already directly in front of you, your eyes align with his chest and it takes all of you to meet his eyes.

“You don’t seem too happy to see me.”

He was so fine. You just wanted to stare at him. No matter how weird that sounded.

He’s scanning your entire form, taking a moment to drink in your appearance as you respond. “I don’t have any emotions towards you. We’ve never formally met.”

“Formally? Did we cross paths at a time I didn’t know about?” The ice clinks against the cup as Mark raises it to sip and his Adam's apple bobs in a thick swallow.

“I don’t know. Maybe you know the answer,” you’re habitually pulling your body towards him. The scent of his cologne laced with weed fills your nostrils and you already feel the warmth of his body radiating off him. You just can’t help it. You wanted him so badly, so badly that you didn’t second guess your obvious signals.

“You’re acting a little too dumb, saying words before thinking them through,” the false confidence is oozing from your voice as you speak. Okay. Maybe you’re drunk and you didn’t know it. If that’s the case, you won’t stop any time soon.

“What do you mean I’m acting dumb?” he follows his response with a chuckle at your assumption.

“You approached me as if we knew each other, then suddenly, you’ve never seen me before?”

“You’ve got it all wrong baby,” the pet name catches you off guard, but it rolls off his tongue like velvet. “We’ve never met, but I’ve noticed you.”

“Notice me? Elaborate,” you wanted to have him explain. Maybe he wanted you as much as you wanted him. You had to be sure. No embarrassment or rejection today, you exclaim to yourself. But you couldn’t jinx it.

“You’re the one I’ve been waiting to see tonight.”

“So you didn’t see me come in earlier?” your orbs follow your index and middle fingers as they walk up his chest. Your fingers stop finally looking at him straight in the eyes, “I call bullshit.”

“I did,” he glances at your hand on his chest before returning to you. “Just was waiting til’ I got you all to myself.”

‘Well… wish fulfilled… So, what is it that you hoped to see me for?”

He looks at you differently, and what you didn’t know was he’s contemplating saying the whole and honest truth or the version that wouldn’t scare your on-screen persona away. The innocent, dainty, girl that would break if you press too hard. But up until now, Mark only knew of that girl.

“Hey, Markie!” Yeonjun walks up from behind Mark, obviously drunk. He’s stumbling around, anchoring himself by putting a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “I see your buzyyys” he slurs while directing his attention to you.

“You’re really so so hot, Y/n. If yous torn Markie here, down, I’m alayz here,” his hooded eyes scream drunk. “Hyung, don’t put that away!” he yells to someone behind you.

You’re turning towards the home to find the person he’s addressing, but he’s suddenly stumbling past you, unintentionally pushing you backward.

You’re off-balanced and as you close your eyes to prepare for impact, it never comes, and you feel an arm wrap around your waist, preventing you from practically eating shit.

Mark's arms are around your waist, sending a scowl back at Yeonjun before directing his attention back to you.

"As I was saying.”

You gaze up at him, your chest now pressed against his.

“What I hope to see you for?”

“Go on.”

Mark doesn’t know what comes over him suddenly, but he’s thinking he should just rip it off like a bandaid because it’s all or nothing.

“Is to have me in between your legs, and you screaming my name.”

“I’d like to see you try,” your eyes move down to his lips. It was so tempting to just pounce on him right here, right now.

It was clear that you both wanted each other as much as the other did. The game you always played with men every so often got you what you wanted, but this time, with Mark, it was almost impossible to keep playing.

Mark doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, he takes his hand to move the hair sheathing your ear. You think he’s about to whisper something, but he begins kissing your neck, trailing down from your earlobe.

“Is that what you like to do? Test people?” his lips are against your ear and you’re caught off guard, doing everything in your power to hold back a moan.

“Yeah, that’s what I want,” you respond softly, eyes shut.

“Be careful what you wish for. It might come true,” he brings his face to yours, and your lips are practically two inches apart. The buzzing in your body doesn’t stop and you’re scolding yourself for wanting to give in so easily.

You notice him biting his lip, content with the effect he has on you.

You lick your lips, “And what if I want it to?”

“You’re all bark no bite baby.”

“If you want me to bite, I will.”

“I have yet to see otherwise,” he whispers against your ear, lip grazing your lobe. Mark doesn’t follow with another word but your impatience and the alcohol coursing through your veins forces you to make the decision.

You close the distance between you two, connecting your lips with his. It was so sudden, but he kisses you back almost immediately, squeezing your waist harder and the other hand instinctively goes to your cheek.

You forget about the world around you, and that people are basically watching you begin to make out with Mark in the middle of the backyard. But the built-up lust makes everyone disappear. You’re both in your own world, with no other thought in your consciousness.

You don’t know what Mark is thinking, but he’s in the same boat as you. He wanted you for so long, and now he finally has you. Following that thought, he doesn’t know what he did in his past life to deserve this, but he must have saved an entire country to be able to receive what he’s experiencing now.

You’re kissing more roughly now, your arms around his neck as he gropes your entire body. Your hands snake up into his hair, and you find yourself pulling his locks as it becomes more intense. When his hand snakes down to your ass, he squeezes, which earns a gasp from you.

Mark takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into yours. Your mouths fit each other perfectly, and you question if the other people you made out with in the past were real, because it has never felt this good before.

After a while, you’re pulling back, Mark struggling to pull himself away from you.

“Easy there,” your forehead is still against his, eyes on his lips.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he husks against your mouth.

Both of your chests are rising and falling at a rapid pace, not realizing you needed to catch your breaths.

“Upstairs, the second door, on your left,” the words roll off his tongue without hesitation.

You’re mutually agreeing, you, with a nod as you slowly part, and your fingers run off his, until the tip of the nail. It’s so hard to control yourself and act as if nothing had just happened.

Of course, people were looking. Some were whispering to each other, the others smirking, and finally, the one’s with a scowl on their faces as they watched each one walk away from the other.

You’re in the room sitting at the edge of the bed as you wait for Mark. You had just sat down and looked around the room. It’s clean and smells husky, but you can tell someone was staying here due to the small duffel bag and clothing scattered across the floor.

And you definitely couldn’t lie, you are so nervous. What would Mark be like in bed? Rough, dominant, gentle, or maybe submissive? It had been so long since you had sex, it felt as if you were a virgin all over again.

You’re amidst your own thoughts when you hear the click of the door. The door doesn’t open carefully, but it’s practically slammed open. Mark doesn’t look back as he closes the door behind him, not even stopping for a single second. The moment he sees you, he’s grabbing your face and smashes your lips against each other. It’s too fast, all of it happening in one motion.

You’re stumbling back until the back of your leg hits the edge of the bed, forcing you to sit back on it. But Mark’s lips don’t leave yours, following you and pushing you slowly until your back hits the mattress. His arms cage your body with his knee between your legs. You feel Mark grab behind the bend of your leg to wrap around his torso while your lips are still attached; Intertwining in perfect harmony.

The buzzing all around your body only seems to grow stronger as he becomes more aggressive. It was like he was so hungry that he couldn’t stop even if someone walked into the room right this instant. You couldn’t lie, it would probably turn you on more.

Mark couldn’t help it, you were just so insatiable, like a drug that he couldn’t get enough of. Like a drug, he could take over and over, without getting sick. He wanted all of you so badly, but only if you were willing to give yourself to him.

The more you dive deeper into Mark, the more he sucks you in, and the more you want him.

The makeout is unforgiving, animalistic almost. “So sweet,” he murmurs against your mouth. It feels too good to open your eyes to him. Your panties are already sticky and if this continues, you’d have to throw them away.

You’re biting your lip as Mark’s lips leave yours to trail kisses down your neck. He’s careful not to leave hickeys as he already knows that your makeup artists would be unforgiving.

But Mark continues to trace kisses down your body, pulling down your skirt and practically tearing off your underwear in one motion. He’s kissing all around except where you need him the most and it makes you whine.

“Tell me you want it,” this statement has you looking down and locking eyes with him.

“Mark, just get on with it.”

“Try again,” at that, he presses circles at your clit without a warning. It’s slow, the pad of his thumb easing over your bud. But it’s too slow, and you need more.

“Mark, Please. I want you,” you mewl, giving in to his demand. The one action already having you fall apart right under his fingertips. Before you know it, you’re instinctively moving your body closer to him, the eagerness exemplifying the level of want when you’re clenching around nothing.

“Yeah?” you don’t see it but the smirk he exudes at your greenlight is much more than subtle. “Don’t have a smart-ass comment now?”

Before you can retort, he’s diving head first, licking a stripe up your slit. It’s a satisfying feeling, a gasp threatening to spill from your lips as the feeling of arousal becomes stronger.

He’s continuing, knowing exactly how to turn you on, knowing exactly how to touch your body, and how to make your eyes roll back. His hands roughly push against the sides of your thigh to prevent you from moving out of place and the dim lights aren’t a hurdle as Mark finds your clit and gives it a sharp suck. It’s just the beginning as he continues slurping and sucking in all the right places, unforgiving as he gives you the best head of your life. Your eyes feel as if they're going to fall out of their sockets at the perfect pressure and pace.

“Fuuu-ck,” it’s stretched out, the same word combining with a previous moan that threatened to come out from the back of your throat.

“You’re so wet,” he rasps against your cunt. “So fucking messy.”

“Mark, don’t stop!”

What you didn’t know is Mark loved giving head. He didn’t need to receive anything in return. Knowing he made his partner cum turns him on beyond belief. Making you squirm and moan his name like a mantra has him instinctively rutting his crotch against the mattress.

You didn’t know he was this good. It’s as if you and he have done this a hundred times before. You’re absolutely drenched, your arousal mixed with his saliva drips down your core. But a mess was the last thing you and Mark worried about.

“Mark, I need more,” you squirm beneath him, your voice sounding already fucked out.

“Is that a demand?” he’s teasing, inserting only his middle finger while awaiting your obedience.

A small gasp leaves your lips before you utter a plea, “Holy shit, Mark, please.” You’re practically whining at this point while your temper and impatience becomes all too consuming.

“That’s better,” he adds his ring finger, adding to the fullness and earning another gasp from you.

“Damn. Thinking about your face when you cum is already making me so hard,” he groans against your cunt and continues to slowly grind his erection against the mattress with no embarrassment. You were already fucked out, but you could see him from your peripheral view, and if it wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, you don’t know what is.

Mark’s watching your expressions as he slowly pulls his fingers out before plunging them back in. He doesn’t let up as the slow motion suddenly speeds up, and he has you moaning and squirming underneath him.

He suddenly sucks on your clit in sync with the rhythm of his fingers and your eyes practically roll into your head. “Mark, Mark,” you shout as your thighs begin to quiver and you’re arching your back at the gratifying overstimulation.

"I-I’m gonna cum," your words are barely audible, mingled with gasps and groans, but Mark attentively listens, hearing every sound that emanates from you. He doesn't stop and keeps going in the same motions, only rougher and faster. It's not until he curls his fingers inside you that he finally reaches the sweet spot.

Your orgasm hits you all at once, tears threaten to spill down the sides of your face as the band in your lower abdomen inevitably snaps, and your entire body shakes. Mark sucks and slurps on your clit as if nothing happened, and you're virtually screaming. The obscene sounds fill the room and don't halt until you beg him to stop and he notices the cum gushing out of your body painting his fingers and dripping down your cunt.

“Fuck,” you’re spent, and it’s all solely from Mark’s tongue and fingers. You haven’t even seen his dick yet, and it already tops all the other people you’ve decided to waste your nights with.

“Done already?” The words are like butter, right before he licks another stripe up our sensitive core. “Well, I’m not done with you,” you quiver as he carefully drops the straps of your top, and then, brings the fabric over your head. Your senses seem to be on overdrive today, and you can’t get enough.

Mark's large hands glide from the inside to the outside of your thighs, merely to define the contour of your hips and waist, stopping to frame your breasts, and slowly begins circling your nipples, as if he read your thoughts. “Feel good?”

“Mhm,” the high from one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had begins to finally come down and you notice the lips that hover right above you. Before another thought, your arm hooks around his neck to pull him down onto your lips.

He welcomes the kiss, mouth moving languidly with yours. Both of your bodies melt into each other as the serene moment becomes all too comfortable. His hand continues to press circles on your nipple as the other gently rubs against your waist, eventually moving down to your inner thigh, in an attempt to soothe your spent body. The push and pull of your lips continues on for a few moments before it becomes faster. Mark bites down on your lower lip, but you whimper at the action because of the overwhelming sensitivity.

At your whimper, he lets go to lick over your bottom lip as an expression of remorse. You’re so overwhelmed, it's only now that you remember his very big problem. It’s poking at your hip, and he lets you know he notices your revelation by experimentally pressing his erection against your center. This causes you to lock eyes with him, another smirk adorning his perfect face.

Mark’s cockiness only instigates you to unhook the arm around his neck and move down to cup his erection. You don’t even look down, staring up at him as you palm him through his pants. “You just love playing games don’t you,” but the shaky exhale he withdraws notifies you of the facade.

“Only if you’re playing,” your hooded eyes and bottom lip trapped in between your teeth say much more. The seductiveness of your tone only pulls Mark closer to you, him getting lost in every single sense.

Mark decides at this very moment he's too impatient to withhold any longer. He's had enough. Enough of your doe eyes staring at him as if nothing else matters. Enough with the melodious responses that exit your pretty lips. Enough of the temptation that you are. He's willing to obey every demand, no matter the cost. He thinks that even though you two hardly know each other, it's as if you've done this a hundred times before.

He is already withdrawing from your body to remove his clothing in front of you. The warmth is missed, but now you’re just sitting there in awe, because what the fuck. The large t-shirt he always wore hid his delicious arms and oh so, thin waist. Mark’s towering over you and it’s difficult not to gawk at his figure. The boxers that hug his hips are pulled down, revealing his big cock. You knew it was more than average when feeling the imprint on his pants, but you almost drool at the sight in front of you.

“Like what you see?” he’s emitting the same look, with the corner of his lip tugging up in return for your reactions.

You don't say a thing, instead groaning at his languid movements, legs spread open, upper body propped up with your arms. You continue to watch as he puts his hand over his cock and gently strokes it. Mark bites his lower lip to keep a groan at bay after stroking a little quicker. Watching him fuck himself turned you on belief and it should be embarrassing but the sight was basically straight out of a porn video.

“Let me help you out,” patience was never your strong suit, and the ogling only lasts a few moments before you’re on all fours, inching to the edge of the bed where Mark stands. He lets you, removing his hand before you lick a long stripe up from the base of his cock, then slightly sucking the tip. A smile threatens to come about as Mark twitches at your action.

“Stop teasing before I fuck you senseless against the wall,” he huffs, throwing his head back. Mark was so close to just pulling you off and using you if you let him. You seemed to be taking your precious time, but he was slightly worried he would come embarrassingly fast if you were the one in control here. Anything you did, he seemed to fall apart so easily. Right into the palm of your hand.

The warning was one that seemed like a reward to you, but you regress, pushing him into your mouth in one motion. Immediately gagging, the tip hits the back of your throat fast. It barely fits inside your mouth, and you find yourself using your hand to make up for the remainder. “Shit, that’s it,” he groans at the vibration from your throat as his praise makes you moan, imagining his cock in your pussy later.

You can feel every ridge of his cock in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, sucking and moving back and forth. He was so big, and the more you took of him, the more sounds came from Mark. It only urged you on further, sucking and bobbing like your life depended on it.

You’re squeezing your thighs together to aid the ache as the sound of the glide of your tongue against his cock is the only thing filling the air in the bedroom. It seems to be the final straw when he uses his hand to twist your hair and pull you off his cock. “Fuck, enough. I’m gonna cum if you keep going.”

You use the back of your hand to wipe off the corners of your mouth before Mark guides you onto your back with his hand still wrapped around your hair, the same hand resting on the back of your head. He's hanging over you once more, and the warmth you longed for returns. Your legs are already spread open, wanting to cure the clenching of nothing in between your legs.

“Are you sure you want this?” he’s biting his lip as he politely runs the hand originally entangled in your hair to push away the ones in front of your face.

“Want you so bad,” your words combine with a whimper because he’s running his cock back and forth over your sensitive folds, collecting as much cum as possible.

He offers a polite smile before he pushes in. It’s slow, but Mark’s size was far from normal, at least, far from what you’re used to. You feel so full and you both gasp at the contact, a grunt coming from him. “Oh my fucking god,” you almost choke on your words, your mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as you adjust to his size. Mark grunts against your ear at your pussy swallowing his dick. If he were to die right now, this is what he guesses heaven would feel like.

“Fuck,” he tests the waters by grinding his hips against you, and it already has your back arching. “You’re so fucking tight,” his hands return to your waist, the arch of your back forced back onto the mattress. His hands are sure to leave bruises, but you couldn’t give a care in the world. Every single movement and drag of his cock against your walls is ecstasy, the delicious burn fueling the awaiting high. “You’re such a good girl. Taking me so well,” he murmurs.

“Mark, please move.”

“So needy,” he rolls his hips against you once more, while his pelvis is against you, “Your wish is my command,” before pulling back and diving back into your heat. “Oh,” a moan escapes your lips at the action. Your eyes are barely open, but those hooded eyes are focused on the Greek god in front of you. You stare at the strained muscles all along his back, his whole body flexing with every movement.

He’s repeating the same pull and push of his hips until there's a consistent pace, every stroke earning more sounds from you. The grip he has on you becomes tighter as he begins speeding up his thrusts.

You’re practically sobbing at the way Mark burrows his cock inside you, fucking you so that you can’t walk the next day. It’s so rough, breasts and body jolting with every movement, and you’re searching for stability by bringing your legs around his waist. You love it rough. Wanting him to use you, use you in any way he wanted. Mark suddenly pulls out almost completely before brutally hitting the spot inside you where you need him the most.

“H-holy shit, Mark.”

He’s so lost in the pleasure, the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your ass and the feel of your pussy choking his cock like a vice makes it almost painful to hold back his moans. It’s an impossible task though, with you in front of him lost in pleasure, tits bouncing in front of his face with the pretty sounds coming from you. Mark is too close. Embarrassingly close. He wants to prolong this as long as possible because he can’t seem to ever get enough.

“You’re not the sweet, innocent girl everyone thinks you are, are you?” he spits and you’re too fucked out to decipher his words. “W-what,” your words combine with a moan because you yourself feel the forming of another orgasm in your lower abdomen and attempt to meet his thrusts halfway to reach euphoria. Tears are threatening to fall, makeup smeared, but you don’t give a care in the world as Mark continues.

“You act like an innocent school girl who’s gonna break if she receives one insult,” he scoffs. “But you’re not,” before he can finish his string of words, he’s pulling his cock out of you to turn you around onto your stomach. You yelp at the action before you feel his arm hook around your waist, bringing you up to your knees.

“You’re dirty, walking around in clothing that barely covers your body, so what? So you can get fucked?” you gasp as Mark plunges his cock back inside from behind, the new angle making you squirm. He has his lip caught between his teeth as he continues with the pace he exercised prior.

“Mark I-i’ll come,” you're dropping to your elbows after your arms give out. It seems as if Mark is in the same boat as you when his thrusts become faster and more aggressive; if that’s even possible. Your brain feels like a puddle of mush, the band threatening to snap again.

“You got what you wanted,” he leans down to hover against your ear with his chin against your nape, not stopping the addictive pace of his thrusts. “But you got it all wrong.”

“Mark d-don’t stop! Fuck!”

He brings his arm back below you and pinches your clit. "From now on, I'm the only one who gets to fuck you. Got it?" You're not sure if it's the hazy words that come out of his mouth or the way he explores your body, but you're at the point where you'll do anything to get to the goal given that your legs are shaking. You’re so close, and you want it so fucking bad.

“Yes! Fuck yes!”

“So good. Come for me, baby,” He rasps, unable to hide how fucked out he is. With a few more thrusts from Mark, the coil finally snaps and your entire body convulses underneath him. He keeps going even after this, pursuing his high and intensifying the orgasm. You're shaking and sobbing, and it's spreading throughout your body, beginning in your lower belly and progressing throughout. It’s consuming you completely, the addicting high turning your body into a mass of nothing. A moan threatens to escape from your throat, but to no avail, not a single sound comes about.

"Holy shit, so fucking tight," your pussy spasms around his cock, making it difficult for Mark to move, but it's enough for him to reach his, cum painting your walls as he rides out both of your peaks; Your cum and his mix together as it drips down your body.

You feel your entire body collapse back onto the mattress as you come down, and your consciousness battles with the idea of sleep as it wanders.

Not soon after, it finally gives in.

The intense rays of the sun through the drapes forces you awake, eyelids fluttering at the intrusion. You rub your eyes before opening them, and after a few moments, you realize that this isn't your room, and memories from the night before resurface. While twisting your body around to the opposing side, a small smile appears on your lips.

Mark is fast asleep beneath the sheets, his features serene. You simply want to continue watching him sleep with no expression on his face because he's simply, well, gorgeous. But you quickly second-guess yourself and determine that, yes, this is a little weird, therefore getting up to use the restroom to distract yourself was the best decision.

Before your feet can touch the cold floor, a hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you back to your original position. Except, this time, Mark’s arms are wrapped around your entire figure, his chin resting against the crown of your head.

"Let's just stay like this for a little while," he declares, lids remaining closed.

You melt against him, with a small laugh pervading the room, and say, "Okay."

Soon after, you're both falling asleep once more, bodies entangled like they were the night before, but for a completely different reason.

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blushweddinggowns · 1 year

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I can't stop thinking about Eddie having a massive bitch fetish for mean girl Steve, especially after they get together.

Like before, sure, he was just as much in King Steve's thrall as every other high school girl was, even if it was a secret he had planned on taking to the grave. Every time he'd hear him make a snappy comment to one of his friends or say something particularly cutting when he talked back to the teachers was enough to make Eddie flush.

But now that they're together it's even worse than high school Eddie could imagine. Because Steve Harrington is protective as fuck and when you mix that with being gay in small-town Indiana with a boyfriend whose the town pariah for murders he didn't commit, you get a lot of opportunities for bitchy Steve.

The check-out lady at the grocery store scoffs when she sees them holding hands? Steve's jumping in, "Wow Linda, guess you're not a champion for love huh? Is that why your husband left you last year?"

An ex-jock and current gas station attendant makes a comment about how Eddie should be in prison? "Weren't you the guy who shit his pants at Carol's party freshman year? Honestly, I feel like that's a worse social crime than anything my Eddie ever did."

An old teacher comments on how he's not "surprised" that Eddie never graduated when they run into him? "I guess that just goes to show how shitty of a teacher you were doesn't it? He passed his GED test on the first try, maybe you should just think of a different career option?"

He has an arsenal of embarrassing stories and tidbits for almost every person in Hawkins, courtesy of his near-daily gossip sessions with his mom. Even when they move in together, those don't stop, they just switch to weekly three-hour phone conversations. (The apple really doesn't fall far from the tree, does it?)

And Eddie loved how willing Steve was to stand up for him, he did, really. But every time Eddie had to bear witness to Steve tearing someone down for his benefit, it felt like he was losing his mind.

He'd flush, go bright pink, get weak in the knees, everything you would expect from a love-struck sixteen-year-old girl, not a twenty-one-year-old drug dealer. Half the time he had to drag Steve to the nearest unoccupied space just to kiss him, and the other half he was too busy trying to hide a humiliating hard-on.

Eddie keeps that specific obsession to himself, but he knows he doesn't have much time left before he figures it out. There are only so many impromptu make-out sessions mixed with snide comments before Steve puts two and two together.

And Eddie just knows that he will never let him live it down, which will only add fuel to the fire if he starts doing it on purpose to tease him. Steve already had him wrapped around his finger enough as is, he didn't need another thing to make him realize just how gone for him Eddie was.

No, this one was going to stay with him, a secret that he'd actually manage to take to his grave.

Or so he thought.

#steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie headcanon #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #bitchy steve #love him #good person mrs.harrington #who is also a gossipy little bitch #i have a less sfw version of this concept on here somewhere #stranger things

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dumbseee · 10 months

Text

united in grief.

f1 au/fic: in which, you’re jules bianchi’s little sister. you’re the same age as charles and grew up with him, when jules passed away your world completely fell apart, and you left monaco for paris. eight years after jules’s death you finally decide to comeback to monaco to visit your old friend.

charles leclerc x bianchi!reader.

fc: madison beer.

warnings: mention of jules bianchi, grief, angst, fluff.

note: happy eighth heavenly birthday, jules, we will always love and remember you, champion 🤍

y/n just posted a story!

caption: missed you monaco 🤍

you really thought about going back for a while, you missed you life in monaco so much. all your friends were here, your family was here, even after jules’s death they stayed, but you couldn’t. every step you took in the luxurious city reminded you of your brother. his presence was everywhere. you were seventeen when you lost jules, he was your whole world, you always wished you were the one in that car. you left monaco for paris because you needed a fresh start in a new city where you could walk without feeling the people’s eyes on you. but a small part of your heart wondered if leaving monaco meant that you were abandoning jules too. he was buried there after all, his soul was now forever in monaco and you were leaving to run away from him.

but your parents reassured you, and told you to fly with your own wings, to find your way, that no matter what jules would be proud of you, and would follow you because he was now your guardian angel. that reassured you a lot since your worst fear was to disappoint him. but your parents were right, jules was an angel when he was still here, and he’s still one up there. so whenever you felt bad, defeated, sad, you knew jules was around you, that gave you the strength to stand up and stay strong. you had to, for your brother. to make him proud.

that’s why you decided to attend today’s race. the monaco grand prix, your brother’s home race. he loved that circuit so much because he knew his friends and family were watching him and cheering for him. you came back without telling anyone, but of course your mother had to tell pascale, so the elderly woman immediately called you to invite you to have lunch with her and lorenzo, her oldest son. you couldn’t say no, because you missed the leclerc, but also because you knew how much you leaving hurt them. you left without saying goodbye, it was too hard for you, so once jules’s funeral was over, you packed your bag and left.

pascale and lorenzo welcomed you with open arms and big smiles, the mother apologised for charles and arthur’s absence but they were busy. charles… you were glad he wasn’t here because you didn’t know how you’d be able to look him in the eye. "you should go to the grand prix with us." lorenzo had told you, with his usual warm smile. at first you refused, but after thinking it over you realised that you owned it to charles, you left him behind when he was also mourning. of course it was harder for you since he was your brother, but jules was everything to charles. his second older brother, he was also lorenzo’s best friend. you hated yourself for being such a selfish coward. guilt was eating you alive and lorenzo noticed it. "don’t be too hard on yourself y/n, jules isn’t going to be happy." he smiled and you had to fight back your tears.

so you came with the leclerc to charles’ home race, you knew that your presence would be the only talk in town and on the internet. "oh my god, y/n!" someone yelled from behind you and you smiled when you saw ‘little arthur’ like you called him back then. he ran to you and made you spin in his arms. you laughed and brushed his hair when he finally put you down. "look at you! where is my little boy?" you asked, still laughing. he flexed his muscles and flashed you a cocky smile before pascale came to hit him in the head. "where is charles?" she asked. "getting ready in the garage, he’s really nervous, i think you should go say hi." he told you. you immediately took a step back, you were nervous as hell too, but for different reasons than charles. what if he didn’t want to see you? what if seeing you ruin his race? what if-… "he still talks about you y/n, he misses you so much you have no idea." pascale chimes in, patting your shoulder.

you were in front of charles’ driver room, you knew that he was just behind it. you could hear voices inside which had to be charles and his teammate. you closed you eyes and knocked three times before waiting. a tall and tan man opened the door for you, he smiled at you and you recognised him as carlos sainz. "isa is waiting for me, see you on track charles." he told charles. "it’s nice seeing you here, y/n." you smiled and watched him go. you took a deep breath before walking into the room. your hands were sweaty and you didn’t know where to look. "y/n?" you haven’t heard his voice in nearly a decade, so him calling your name startled you. "h-…" you couldn’t even finish that charles had closed the gap between you, pulling you in his arms. his face was buried in your neck and his arms were hugging you tightly. you were completely frozen, you didn’t expect him to be that affectionate after what you did to him. "charles, i’m so sorry for leaving." tears were now rolling down your cheeks. he broke the hug and immediately wiped your tears.

"sorry for what?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. his hands rested on your shoulders, his touch soothing you. "i’m not mad at you for leaving, y/n. i just wished i was here with you to help you through the grieving process." he smiled and you looked at the ground. he was too good to you, you didn’t deserve it. "you lost jules too, i acted like i was the only one grieving, i didn’t realise the impact my brother had on people’s lives." charles gently kissed your forehead and stroked your cheek. "let’s talk about that later, let me enjoy your presence, you don’t know how much i missed you." he hugged you once again, and this time you wrapped your arms around him, savouring the moment. "my lucky charm is back in town." you couldn’t refrain your laugh at his cheesy comment.

"and charles leclerc wins the monaco grand prix for the first time in his career!" the whole stadium cheered for the monegasque meanwhile you couldn’t stop crying. he won. he won in monaco. it was his goal and he did it. pascale hugged you while cheering for her son, lorenzo and arthur ran to their brother. but you stayed in your seat, looking at him jumping everywhere and celebrating with his brothers and carlos. then, when he turned around to face your direction he did something that sent shivers all over your body. he pointed at you, then at his heart, and then at the sky. this was jules’s celebration every time he’d win something and you were there to support him. he honoured jules even when he finally fulfilled his dream. "jules, you are so loved." you muttered to yourself, looking up at the bright sky.

liked by charles_leclerc, arthurleclerc, philippe_bianchi17 and 2 682 789 others.

y/n: coming back in monaco was hard, but i wanted to be here for charlie, i was scared at first because i knew that i handled my brother’s death terribly but in eight years i forgot how kind you were. i finally understood why jules loved you so much. congratulations on winning your first grand prix in monaco! i’m so proud of the man you became charles, i know that my brother is proud of you and will always look after you. je t’aime charlie ♥️

charles_leclerc: this one was for you, and of course jules, i’m so happy to have you back, je t’aime aussi ♥️

fan1: i can’t stop crying wtf

fan2: jules’ death affected everyone, even the people who never even met him, like me, he was such an angel

fan3: your brother is proud of you y/n! don’t be too hard on yourself!

fan4: we love you!

fan5: so happy to see you healthy!

fan6: man, this family suffered too much, i hope they’re happy now

fan7: charles and y/n relationship is so cute omg

fan8: the way he dedicated his win to the bianchi siblings 🥺

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verstappen-cult · 4 months

Text

PROMPT DRABBLES ★ MV1

FROM THIS LIST ━━━━ When they wrap their hand around your waist protectively because it's just an instinct by now.

the party is at its peak, most people are on the dance floor and if they’re not, they’re talking and laughing and overall enjoying the night. it is a day to celebrate, it’s the end of the 2024 season, after all.

it’s supposed to be only for the drivers and some friends, but as you scan the place you realize it’s so much more than that; there are way more people. but that’s how all of dani’s parties are. he says that is just a small reunion and when you show up, there are at least fifty people.

but dani knows how to party, that’s for sure.

you make your way into the house, looking for some familiar faces, when you, finally, spot the curly hair of lando norris, right next to his teammate and carlos, who’s the first one to see you and call you over.

“i’m so glad you’re here! ” the spaniard says, putting an arm around your shoulders.

the mclaren boys greet you, and the four of you fall into an easy conversation. but you can’t keep up with it, too busy looking around for a head of blonde hair.

“he was talking with some guys a few minutes ago.” oscar says as lando tries to hide a smile behind his drink. carlos gives you a little push, letting go of you, a knowing smile on his face that you try to ignore.

you’re about to pretend to be offended when a familiar voice makes you turn around.

and there he is. walking towards you with the biggest and prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.

of course he’s happy, he’s a fourth–time f1 world champion.

“hey,” max says, a lopsided smile on his handsome face. when he’s right next to you, max wraps an arm around your waist, holding you tightly against him. your cheeks heat up immediately. “i was looking for you. are you okay?” he looks at the three boys who are suddenly very quiet looking at the scene, and then back at you. there’s a frown on his face and you want to make it go away.

a kiss will definitely make it go away.

“yes, it was just a little problem with work.” this time your smile is enough to make his frown disappear.

“oh, what happened?” oscar’s asks, worry crossing his features.

you turn your body to try and look at him, but max’s hand on your waist tightens, keeping you close.

trying to hide a smile, you answer. “something small with the final details. but everything’s fine now.”

“are you sure?” max squeezes your waist, fingers caressing the skin your shirt doesn’t cover.

“mmh.” it’s all you say as a confirmation, lost in the pool of blue that are his eyes.

you look at each other as if it’s the first time you are together after a long time apart—you saw each other just a couple of hours ago, but it feels like a lifetime. ever since you two started whatever you are doing, being apart it’s getting a little hard.

max’s eyes glaze over, pupils expanding when he sees your gaze falling to his lips, too fast and not enough.

for a moment you forget where you are, who is in front of you and that max still doesn’t know you have feelings for him.

yes, you’ve been flirting and spending a lot of your free time together, but you’re pretty sure max doesn’t even know you’re flirting. he’s so oblivious sometimes.

“oh for fuck’s sake!” lando’s voice startles you both. “just kiss already!”

“lando!” both, oscar and carlos, say at the same time, clearly very embarrassed by their friend’s outburst.

“they’re eye-fucking! it’s disgusting!”

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #f1 fanfic #max verstappen imagine #f1 drabble #max verstappen fanfic

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unsolvedjarin · 9 months

Text

just you wait sunshine.

pairing: (sebastian vettel x driver! reader)

summary: sebastian’s retirement has led him to reminisce his past life and mistakes, including you. little does he know, the universe is about to give him a second chance via a small bookstore in switzerland.

note: this went on WAYYY longer than i wanted it to be and it didn’t really go the direction i wanted either, but we move

content warning: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, more sebastian centric than reader centric tbh (sorry i just love him so much)

word count: 3.7k

Retirement had been good to Sebastian.

He’d finally been able to spend time in his farm house, plant some trees, grow a garden, and along with all that, still have time to drive cars whenever an event needed him to. It was like his entire life schedule magically cleared up in front of him.

He missed racing of course, he won’t pretend that he didn’t. After all, he spent 15 years in the sport, it was his pride and joy for quite a long time. But that time of his life is over, he’s accepted that. He wanted to enjoy the other things in life instead, be able to see and experience things that the busy life of being a driver didn’t let him experience.

Sitting on a chair in his porch watching the sun set, he reflects on what he could have done differently. Who he could have treated differently. And when only one name enters his mind, the same one that’s haunted him for the past 5 years, he sighs reluctantly and heads back inside to prepare his dinner.

—

2012

“What do you wanna do when you grow up?”

The question takes you by surprise as you take another swig of your beer. The moon shone brightly on the porch of whatever airbnb your team had set you up at, and the stars were sparkling like they had never before.

“What kind of question is that, Sebby?” you giggle. “Isn’t this what we’re gonna do for eternity? Racing?”

Sebastian shrugs, looking up at the sky on his foldable chair that you had brought on the trip. “Yeah but after that, you know? I’ve always thought about what my life will be like after retirement.”

“Okay old man, because you’re sooo close to retiring,” you tease. He gives you a playful light shove for that, smiling as he does. The air feels freer and lighter than it ever has before.

“But seriously,” Sebastian chuckled. “Have you ever thought about it?”

You ponder for a second before replying, “No, not really. I mean my career’s just starting, I haven’t really thought about the end. But when I do retire, I think I’d like to be a writer.”

“Like those egotistical types to make a biographical book about themselves?” Sebastian asks, earning a laugh from you. The sound made him feel things that he’d only ever felt before with you.

“God no,” you laugh out. “I don’t wanna be like those old blokes who get obsessed with themselves after they retire. I just wanna write fictional books, maybe under a pen name. Just a simple life; me, my theoretical dog, and my theoretical book.”

Sebastian nods with an understanding look in his eye. He wants that life too. A simple one, away from the public. Even now at his young age, the paparazzis and press were getting annoying quickly.

“I want to live in a house far away from the city,” he says. “Maybe the suburbs— no that’s too near…a farm! I’ll live in a farmhouse.”

You smile at the thought of Sebastian Vettel, two time Formula 1 world champion, just lounging about in a farm tending to his animals and crops.

“Wouldn’t it get boring? Or lonely? Milking your cows alone?”

He answers you with no delay, “Well I’d want you to be with me of course.”

You thanked whatever higher power was listening at that time that he couldn’t see how your blush formed over the darkness of the night. Regaining your sense of self, you reply, “What makes you think I’d want to go with you?”

“Wouldn’t you?” he asks genuinely. “You could write your books inside while I…I don’t know what type of farm I’ll make, exactly. But I’ll be tending to that and you can write your books with your theoretical dog.”

“It’ll be our theoretical dog, then.”

Sebastian replied with a soft smile, “Ours, then.”

—

He had settled on bees. Having a bee farmhouse. It wasn’t easy work, it was definitely more complicated than milking a cow like you had said, but it made him happy, and it made him content.

Well, as content as he could be.

You had your first kiss that night, Sebastian recalled. He remembers because even though you didn’t think it, he could see the red blush dusted lightly on your cheeks, a sign he made the right choice leaning in and making his move.

Preparing his dinner for one in his cozy yet lonely farm house, he realizes he could have had this all with you. If he had just been more kind and if you had forgiven him, you could have had all of this together. A life that both of you had always wanted.

—

2018

“Sebastian, I’m not asking you to retire or something, I’m just asking you to take a break, please,” you beg. He remembers your exasperated voice as clear as day.

“I can’t take a break, Y/N, you don't understand. If I don’t get at least podium in this race, that's it, my career is basically over.”

Scoffing, you replied, “Your career isn’t over just like that, you’ve still got another year with Ferrari for christ’s sake.”

“You wouldn’t get it,” he mumbled, opting to turn away from you and put on his racing gear instead.

He’d been distant the whole season, the tension between the two of you increasing and increasing that finally it just snapped this race weekend. He’d been icing you out, acting like you didn’t exist because he was ‘practicing for the races ahead.’

At first you understood, you were a driver too. You recognized the difficulty of always losing race after race, how after a while it took a toll on your mental wellbeing. So you gave him space.

Then, when that didn’t work, you tried reaching out, helping him. It was the worst mistake of your life. Every time you tried to talk to him, to ask him what was wrong so you could help, he kept pushing you further and further away, acting like you were getting in the way of his work, sometimes even getting angry.

That went on for the whole season, until finally today, on qualifying morning, you snapped and demanded he talk to you.

“What the hell do you mean ‘I wouldn’t get it’? I have the exact same job as you,” you accused. You’d been patient for months and his vagueness was starting to get on your nerves.

Whipping his head around angrily to face you he replied, “You don’t have to reach the same standard as I do. I have to constantly prove I’m the best, and you constantly prove to be a midfielder.”

Oh.

That was a low blow, even Sebastian knew that. Your relationship had been teetering on the edge for the past year, but this was a make or break moment, and he knew exactly which one of the two it was going to be.

“So it’s like that,” you decided with a tone of finality. Sebastian wanted to ask for your forgiveness right then and there, to apologize, to make up for the last few months of being an asshole, to beg you not to throw away your years together just like that.

But he knew he was in the wrong, and he was too stubborn and egotistical to apologize.

Sensing the silence from him, you nod with teary eyes you tried so desperately to stop from flowing freely. Sebastian wanted nothing more to wipe them away, to hold you in his arms, but he never could do it.

“This is how you want it to end?” You asked him. It was a genuine question. You were giving him one last choice, one last chance to make up for how he’d been treating you the past year.

He stayed silent.

“Enjoy your fucking career, Vettel.”

—

He won that race. It was his first win of the season, but he felt like he had lost the championship itself as he stood on that podium, eyes looking for you in the crowd like he usually did, finding you absolutely nowhere.

After your argument he tried to talk to you in the paddocks but you constantly avoided him, the act not being hard when he wasn’t allowed inside your team’s hospitality building nor paddock. That fight was the last sensible conversation with each other you ever had.

You retired the year after that. You moved out quietly from your shared home, and he heard you stayed with Jenson for quite a while. He couldn’t blame you, Jenson had always been kind to you— Sebastian had no place to be jealous.

Hearing the beeping of his oven, Sebastian snaps out of his trip down memory lane to grab his dinner. It was a tray of lasagna, one he was sure he would be eating again tomorrow lunch because of the size of it.

He thinks about how he wouldn’t have to place the excess in a container for tomorrow if he just had someone to share it with. If he could share it with you.

Going through his grocery list at 10 in the morning, Sebastian notices a new store out of the corner of his eye. He’s been to this street countless times to do his grocery down the road— they had a brand of milk that no other nearby grocery had— but he had never seen that store before.

It was a bookshop. A small one compared to the large shops that surrounded it, but it stood out enough to be noticed yet cozy enough to feel inviting. It was a cold morning in Switzerland, and the heater inside just invited him further in until he found himself standing at the doorway, taking in the smell of books and the absolutely gorgeous decor.

He will admit, he hasn’t seen a bookshop like this in quite a while. The second he stepped foot inside he felt the love radiate through it, as if he knew the owner personally and how they had a passion for their store.

All Sebastian could think about, however, was how much you would love this. How you would adore running your fingers through the spine of a second hand book, or how you would pick a fresh new one for him to read and he would do the same for you, just like you both did back then.

He won’t pretend that he never looked for your book when you retired. He knew you weren’t joking about publishing one, he just didn’t know what pen name you chose so he never could find it.

“Looking for something specific?” A voice makes him turn his head around to see the woman behind the register looking at him inquisitively. He realizes that he was just standing in an aisle not really reading or picking up a book.

Sebastian shakes his head, “Not really, just browsing. I was thinking about how a friend of mine would have liked to see this store, it’s right up their alley.”

“Why don’t you invite them then?” A different voice speaks.

…It can’t be.

That voice.

No, he was hallucinating, dreaming maybe. Yes, this was a dream. That would be the only explanation why from behind him he heard a voice he missed so dreadfully, one he tried imagining talk to him again some nights, one he watched old videos for, one he—

“Sebastian?”

It was you. He would recognize your voice anywhere. He turns around, and the world seems to slow down as if it suddenly focused on just the both of you. The background blurs and everything is hazy and distorted but you were there. Standing in front of him, actually real. Older than he remembers but not in a negative way, just more mature. More peaceful. More you.

Staring at you in the middle of a bookshop in Switzerland after 5 years, Sebastian couldn’t speak. He didn’t know what to say. What would be right? Would there be words he could tell you that would make you ever forgive him?

“I-” “You-”

You both start at the same time, making you laugh at each other. It was the first time he’s seen you smile since 2016. He used to say he would burn cities to see you smile, and he’s glad he knows now that that feeling hasn’t changed.

“You first,” he says. He wants to hear what you’ll say so he can choose his words better.

“I, uh,” you laugh awkwardly. It was still a beautiful sound to Sebastian. “I was actually slightly expecting to see you here.”

Oh. Well he didn’t expect that. You…you were expecting to see him? Like purposely thinking about him? The thought boggled Sebastian.

Noticing his visible silence, you speak up again. “I co-own this bookstore,” you smile. “I knew you lived around the area so I expected I’d bump into you eventually. It’s not the main thing that I do, but my Swiss friend you just talked to behind the counter wanted to make a bookstore but was low on funds so I decided to help a friend out, you know?”

Oh he knows. You were always so kind when it came to your friends. He remembers, he used to be one of them.

“That’s really nice of you,” Sebastian says. He slaps himself internally for the dumb reply he gives. “You uh, you look great.” Way to fucking go Sebastian. What a great conversation saver.

“Not in a weird way, of course. I mean I would never try to make you feel uncomfortable by saying that. Did you feel uncomfortable? Was it weird? It probably was. I mean I haven’t seen you in so long and that’s the first thing I say it’s so stupid and I could have said something of significance but—”

You stop Sebastian before he rambles on any longer. Holding his fidgeting hand, you chuckle at the sight of the nervous German in front of you. “Relax, Seb. I’m not mad. I’ve moved on.”

Oh.

“You have?” He asks, not thinking before he speaks because he knows he hasn’t. How could he move on from the best thing that ever happened to him and the biggest mistake he ever made?

The question takes you aback, pulling your hand away from his. For a second Sebastian thinks he’s messed up all over again, but you simply reply, “I meant from racing. But I know what you think I mean.”

“Can we catch up? I’ve missed you.” Sebastian hears himself say it before he even realizes the implications of his words.

“Oh.” you say with a pause. It makes Sebastian’s heart sink. Maybe you really have moved on, but in a way that you didn’t want him in your life anymore. He gets that. It looks like you’ve built a nice life for yourself outside of racing. Even if he never gets to be in it. He’s proud of you for being able to move on. “How about we sit down for some coffee first? I know a place near here.”

Oh thank god. Sebastian wasn’t ready to be deprived of you again so quickly.

Walking to the cafe, the air was thick with the tension between the two of you. While your accidental meeting in the library had gone well, the spark of the moment had faded and the reality of the situation had settled in. This was someone Sebastian had deeply wronged, someone he still deeply loved, and there were too many words unsaid there about both.

Sitting down at the window seats— he remembers how you loved sitting there so you could watch the people outside— you flag down a waiter to take both your orders.

“I’ll take a macchiato and— Seb do you still take your coffee black?”

Nodding, he looks out the window with a light blush on his cheeks. The fact that you remembered his— albeit simple— order made him happy and he had to catch himself otherwise he would be smiling like a teenage boy again. It was truly the little things.

“So,” he speaks up, straightening up and looking at you.

“So,” you mimic. “I go first or you go first?”

“My life has been pretty televised before I retired, there’s nothing really surprising in it. You go first.”

You spend the next 30 minutes filling him in on your life, how you avoided the media for the past few years, how you live in a cozy home with your dog, how you still exchange presents with some of the older grid during Christmas (Sebastian admits he got jealous here).

But the most important part was when he heard how you finally wrote that book you always talked about.

“Really? You finally published it?” Sebastian asks. He could see how the smile on your face was genuine, unlike the many times he saw you put on a fake one for the press or the media. It made him happy.

“Yeah, I finally found time after I retired to start it. Surprisingly it’s actually much harder and less peaceful than I thought it’d be.”

“At least it’s not a biographical book,” Seb jokes. The throwback makes you giggle, but it also makes you both acknowledge the elephant in the room. There were still so many things left unsaid, you both didn’t know where to start.

“Y/N back when I said those things, you know the ones, I didn’t mean them.”

Giving him a sad smile you reply, “I know, Seb. But it doesn’t take them back. Besides, that silly argument was just the straw that broke the camel's back, we were on the edge of our relationship for so long, you knew that too.”

“I know, but that was my fault it was on the edge too. I kept pushing you away because of Ferrari and how disappointed I was in my career. I didn’t realize at the time how much it was hurting you until I finally lost you. I know it makes no sense to say it this late when all is said and done, but I am sorry.”

Sebastian’s words stunned you to silence. You knew he never meant pushing you away, despite your last fight he was never intentionally that unkind, it was just racing that pushed him to be like that back then. But hearing the words coming from him hit differently, the way he said the two words you’ve been yearning for for years. I’m Sorry.

It couldn’t make you forget, but it could make you forgive.

“I know you are, Sebby,” you say. The old nickname brings a nostalgic smile on his face. “I’ve forgiven you years ago, just after I retired. I figured I should let go of my ghosts and that’s what I did. Though I won’t lie, your ghost did put up quite a fight giving me tears at night,” you joked. Sebastian could sense the hint of sadness in it.

He wishes he could make it all go away, to fix it just like he used to be able to. But he knows it’s not that easy. Not when the years have separated you both. It’ll be hard getting your trust back to let him into your heart even just as a friend, but goddamn if he wasn’t going to try and fix it.

“Will you ever show me the book?”

The question catches you slightly off guard. “I doubt it. It’s not up your alley anway, historical fiction.”

“Anything you write is up my alley. Maybe you can come over sometime and show it to me,” he says, not realizing the underlying meaning to it.

“Careful, Sebastian,” you say. “Forgiving is easy when you’re given time, but forgetting is harder. Let’s take baby steps.”

Baby steps. He could live with that. To Sebastian it doesn’t matter if it takes days or years to get you back in his life, he’ll let you take your time. You deserve it. And if you choose in the end to walk out of his life again, well, then he deserves it.

You hug each other goodbye when you leave, the hug lasting longer than it should have. He knows he promised baby steps, but when you buried your head into the crook of his neck and tightened your grip around him softly, he couldn’t resist pulling you closer to him and holding you there for a few seconds. He misses this, the closeness of it.

He sends you his address if ever you were in the area again, and you notice how the profile picture he has for you on your number was still the one of you when you were both rookies. It made you happy.

Sebastian didn’t expect anything more to happen, he spent that night contemplating what good deed he must’ve done to bring you back into his life again. Whatever it was, he was grateful he had done it.

The next afternoon as he was reheating the Lasagna— that he ultimately forgot yesterday— in the oven for lunch, he heard his doorbell ring. Opening his door he spots a package on the floor, one that was wrapped with a cute bee themed wrapping paper. It made him chuckle. He expected that whoever or whatever was at the door was you, but this was the next best thing.

Sitting down on his porch chair, he opens the package delicately as if it were fragile. He can feel the outline already, it was a book. Moreover, it was your book. Sebastian couldn’t believe it.

There was a note attached that read, ‘Forgot to tell you yesterday. I missed you too.’

The few words were almost enough to bring him to tears, but he continued and opened the book to scan its contents. The typing Published 2020 stands out, making him realize how long he’s missed out on this.

But what truly catches his attention is the dedication. Smack right in the middle, the words to be seen by everyone, read; For my Sunshine, the amount of words left unsaid will never match the amount of love I still have for you in my heart.

He may not be able to fix his mistake just like that, but Sebastian would wait however long it took for you to love him again, as a friend or as another. As long as his sunshine was in his life again.

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