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#and if you watch his seasons after rose
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“ten is a bad person” you never even tried to understand him
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noxcheshire · 22 days
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Back at it again with my Danny is mom coded au’s, but this time it’s because of Clockwork that he suddenly has a whole ass teenage kid.
Clockwork had been bored or maybe he was playing a game against an opponent, or even lost a bet, whatever it was, he stepped in right as Jason was searching for his biological mother.
The DNA that would have registered itself as one Sheila Haywood, confirming Jason’s mother, glitched a terrible green across the screens of the batcomputer.
In those few moments of chaos Jason’s heart beat rapidly as he tried to figure out why the computer wasn’t working, wondering if his only chance to find his mom — his blood mom — would never find success.
Then as suddenly as things went wrong the DNA settled and pinged.
Jason watched, his chest tight, as one Danny C. Works, formerly Danny Fenton appeared onto the big screen.
Danny looked a lot like Jason, short cut black hair more straight than the subtle curls of Jason’s own; deep blue eyes, tired in a way that spoke of long days and nights, but with a warm happiness that made the familiar smile — the one Jason would see on himself every time he looked into the mirror — even more striking.
Jason didn’t linger too long on the male identifying gender, nor the fact his mom leaned more towards a masculine name or clothing.
There were plenty of male to female, and female to male leaning individuals that lived in Crime Alley. He had seen it enough to not even bat an eye at it, even now. After all, in Gotham you minded your business least you find yourself in business you can’t leave.
On a different monitor information of Danny C. Works piled for Jason to quickly browse through.
Danny was a senior engineer, no intimate relationships, and with no close connections to family outside of the tentative calls from Jasmine Fenton.
Danny was estranged from Jack and Madeline Fenton, a falling out that had occurred just a little before Danny’s high school graduation. If Jason calculated it correctly that would have been — around the season Jason himself would have been born.
Okay, so no grandparents then but I might have a maybe aunt. Jason scrolled further and stilled.
Twin toddlers: Dante and Danielle Works.
Jason had baby siblings.
He doesn’t let the sting of younger siblings consume him, doesn’t allow the whispering thoughts of why he had been given up when his younger siblings had been kept and so very obviously loved.
Jason took deep breathes, he didn’t have time to linger here. He had a family to get to, and a family he would get to.
It took almost all night to reach, the starlight night sky slowly and surely fading into cloudy wine as the sun rose, but Jason made it.
And when the door opened to his hesitant but firm knock, Jason was unable to speak. His mom — dad, maybe? Did they want to be mom or dad? — stood in the doorway, brows furrowed in confusion.
It was when Danny spoke his vigilante name did Jason only just realize that he was still dressed to the nine’s in his Robin costume.
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youryanderedaddy · 3 months
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can you write gentle yandere taking their darling for the first time vs mean sadistic yandere taking them for the first time?
Btw I love ur work 💖💘💗
tw: female reader, non - con, kidnapping, obsessive/possessive behavior, sadism, degradation, slut - shaming
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Gentle ~
You know the type of guy I'm talking about. Big and buff, dark - haired, cries a lot. Watches romance movies in his free time and actually calls his mother even outside of the holiday season. Wears slutty little black fitted shirts after working out and brings you smoothies after work. He smiles and blushes. The man is a massive loser with an undying passion for anything nerdy, be it dragons, board games, collecting marks. Who would really expect this poor soul to hurt even a fly?
But he does.
It doesn't happen until months after he's taken you in. Most of the time he's being the perfect gentleman (aside from literally keeping you captive) - he cooks for you, brings you roses and chocolates (even when you throw them away or tear the petals from the flowers), cleans and doesn't make you lift a finger. He reads you poetry until your ears bleed. He tells you he loves you one hundred times a day and seemingly doesn't care about your snorts or the way you roll your eyes and push him away, already so used to your living situation you can't even find it in yourself to be scared. You think he's harmless - as harmless as a lovesick puppy.
But then one night he comes home, an unusual frown on his otherwise soft face. There is a certain type of madness in his hazel eyes. They are still so very soft and adoring, he still sees you as a Goddess in need of worship... but there is also something dark and muddy. Something possessive.
Your captor kisses you on the cheek and that much is granted - he does it every day, along with shouting "Honey, I'm home" at the door. He hugs you - tight. Tighter than ever before, it feels as if the man is trying to crush you in a suffocating embrace, like he wants to swallow you whole within his arms. For the first time you realise just how muscular he is - how much stronger he is. And then he picks you up like a blushing bride and leaves a quick peck on your forehead before taking you to the bedroom and carefully laying you down.
He doesn't give you time to ask questions - as soon as he steps a foot in your shared room, he's already tearing apart his clothes, revealing his ripped form.
"See anything you like, sweetness?" the man asks you, rubbing his hands together as he towers over you, caging you between two beefy arms. You stay silent for a moment, mouth agape at the suddenness of it all - you have never seen him like this. He starts caressing your cheeks and slowly moves down, and that's when it finally settles in your mind. You need to act quickly.
"Stop." you say authoritatively, just like you have done so many times before, praying it would work like it had in the past. But not now. This time he simply shakes his head, a crazed smile playing on his lips as he lowers his head and kisses your neck softly, lovingly. It's terrifying. You're not used to this. You don't know how to react. "Baby, I can't hold it in anymore." Your captor whispers, head resting against your shoulder, voice low and desperate - almost whiny.
"I really tried." he swallows thickly. "I swear. I tried cold showers a-and thinking about bad things but..." he bites his lip, staring at you. You look so small and helpless and, God, he respects you, he really does, but he can't help the way his crotch twitches and his pants tighten as he watches you squirm and tremble, oh-so-small and panicky, defenceless little hands scratching at his arms, but failing to make him budge.
"But every time I come home all pent up and annoyed after dealing with bastards all day, all I want is to bend you over," he continues after moving a lock of your hair out of the way so he can whisper directly into your naked ear. "And fuck-”, he says as he pins your hands to the bed frame, enjoying seeing you wiggle and pant. "The shit-" he can feel your heart beat faster and faster as your whole body gets warmer. It's awfully intimate. "Out of-" he's so excited now that he grabs your hips rather roughly, and ruts against your core, whimpering as his crotch rubs all over your clothed slit. "you".
He growls, now more akin to a lion or a bear than to a human.
He tries to enter you slowly so he wouldn’t hurt you, but the moment your tight velvety walls wrap around his hard throbbing length, he’s reduced to a feral whimpering mess, shoving at you in short sloppy thrusts, completely pussy - drunk. He lasts less than five minutes before he pulls out and cums all over your stomach, watching in fascination as his seed marks you. He slams his lips against yours, swallowing your hushed protests as he murmurs “Mine” over and over again, gripping your hips closer when he feels you pulling away.
Once his brain has cleared enough to be able to think properly he helps you clean up, touching you so gently you wonder if this wild, brutish side he exhibited was all but a dream. But it’s still very much there, barely contained under the surface - and one single moment of freedom and passion is enough to open Pandora's box. 
After that night he feels a lot more comfortable with touching you, for better or worse. 
Mean ~
He doesn’t wait for you to adjust to your ‘new life’ before he basically pounces on you like a predator. To be completely honest, he’s wanted to fuck you within inches of your life since the time he first saw you - the only thing keeping him at bay for a while were the countless pretty pictures he had of you naked and writhing in your own bed in the comfort of your home that all the secret cameras he had installed managed to capture.
Before he used to treat your home footage like his own personal cam - girl show; sometimes he would wait to leave work, jerking all over your face on his screen the moment he gets home. Other times he wasn’t so patient, and he had to sneak off to the restroom any time a thought about you occurred, stroking himself to completion as he blasted his recordings of your quiet moans on his headphones.
But now you’re here in the flesh - the real thing, tied so tight you can’t move an inch, trembling all over just like a bunny caught in a trap by the hunter. He wants you completely immobilised - he’s waited ages for this moment and he wants absolutely no distractions getting in the way of him finally taking his price.
You sob pitifully, your mouth the only part of your body left uncovered, and you try to plead with him desperately. You promise him money, influence, anything he wants - whatever would be able to get you out of this hellish predicament. You even offer to give him a blowjob - which he simply sneers at, grabbing a fistfull of your hair. 
“Oh, doll, the night is still young. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” He looks possessed, ready to feast on your flesh. You shiver, curling into yourself as much as possible - but he pulls your legs on both sides of his thighs, his hands seeming grand across your rickety ankles. “You’ll get your chance to choke on this cock soon enough.” He grabs his bulge crudely, massaging it through his thick stained grey pants. “Right now all I want is to see this cute little pussy stretched on my meat and those pretty tits bouncing in the air as I slap them red.”
It really doesn’t matter if you’re a virgin or not, you’re getting brutalised either way - although his comments would be different.
If you’re a virgin, he’s making sure you get the whole of his length in one - there is something terribly amusing about the toe - curling scream you let out as his cock tears you apart, something borderline pornographic in the way your brows twist and your nostrils flare, lips shut tight as to not give him the pleasure of hearing your pain out loud. But it’s obvious, and he wants you to know that he enjoys it through and through - licking your tears and the sweat off your neck, pinching at your thighs, your breasts, your stomach; whatever makes you cry the most. 
If you’re not a virgin, he still finds a way to get his fun out of you. 
“I don’t feel you clenching on me, you little slut.” He smacks your cheek with little force behind it - it’s not meant to hurt you, but to humiliate you and drive his point across. “Did you have a fucking train ran on you? I should have known you’d be a filthy whore.” He bites at your lower lip, pulling at it until he hears you whine pitifully - leaving his mark on you. “Should’a known with these cocksucking lips of yours, and ngh-” He sinks into you, voice breaking once the tip of his dick brushes against your cervix. “And t-those slutty hips, shit, keep squeezing me just like that, n-ngh, I am going to ruin you all over again!”
He fucks you for who knows how long - when he’s finally satisfied, the sun is already up and you’re drenched in sweat and cum. There isn’t a single part of your body that doesn’t ache.
He leaves you there, snickering at the sight of your empty stare fixed on the ceiling - only reaching to untie you and cuff your ankle to the bed frame instead. You weakly raise an eyebrow in question.
“Stay here until I come back, okay?” He grins with malice, caressing your wet matted hair. “Hah, not that you can really go anywhere.”
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diejager · 6 months
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how does a (monster AU) phoenix! reader sound? ...I kinda imagine 141 (except price) getting a heart attack when reader takes a bullet and bursts into flames and then a heap of ash, and then (im pulling a harry potter description of pheonix but its ur choice) the most ugly bird or something pokes their head out of the ashes and they're like '...oh'.
I remember watching Fawkes burning and turning to ash before he popped his head out. So adorable.
Ashes Cw: burning, death, rebirth, tell me if I missed any.
Ghost knew when someone was lying, able to sniff out a liar within a mile. Your dimmer smile, shorter laughter and exhaiusted expression, nothing seemed to make your days better than a warm bump of tea once or twice a day to sooth the ache in your bones and the strain in your muscles. He’d approach you with a clear mind, wanting to get to the bottom of your sickness, why you’d occasionally cough, voice weak and breathy until it cracked. You told him you were fine, that it was just the weather affecting you, but he’d seen this kind of sickness before, a cold that sunk into the bones and clogged every sinuses with intent —sick and vulnerable.
He wasn’t alone in this thought, Alejandro and Gaz shared similar doubts, coming forth to Price with their fears rather than sneaking around like he did, but Price had waved them off, telling them that it was a seasonal thing, you got sick from time to time and rose back from it as if death failed to catch you. This did not seem like something simple and mundane, Ghost could see death follow you like it followed him, it was ever present, so much so that Alejandro and Horangi - the two with the weakest nose out of the four - could smell it ooze off you like a dark miasma plaguing your body.
It seemed as if the both of you shared something that the others weren’t privy to, a low whisper in the dark that they failed to catch or the secret you shared through confidentiality higher than even a colonel. The captain knew you before you joined them, forming a tight connection through past trauma and fuck ups. Perhaps that’s why Price seemed almost chipper about your saddening state.
It seemed that Ghost was kept in as much darkness as the rest, the higher ups had kept it hidden from him, from König and from Alejandro who should’ve had the jurisdiction to have access to your documents. Especially after seeing you burst into flames after being shot in the neck by a surviving sniper (Ghost was quick to shoot him down), body gone in a coud of ash and dusted feathers. He panicked, but he wasn’t the only one to rush towards what remained of you. Despite their panicked mumbles and frantic thoughts, Price had reassured them that it was normal, that you were still alive —all they had to do was wait a few seconds for you to reappear.
Appear you did, a small, ashen head, beak the length of a child’s thumb, small ad brittle, big, rounded eyes blinked at them, narrowed in confusion until you called, a tiny croon from a chick’s throat. You shuffled your way through the mess, featherless wings flapping as you hopped towards Price, who quickly met you half way, picking you up with one nimble swoop.
“Look at you,” Price cooed, pressing his thumb to your forehead, feeling the soft, newly grown feathers that glowed white, “About time you burned, yeah?”
“Fuckin’ hell,” it was the only thing he could answer with when his mind was building up these theories, every little thought in his head went to understand what and how you were made. It was as close as Soap’s Steamin’ bloody Jesus or König’s dumbfounded Was.
“Is that why you told us not to worry, Captain?” Gaz’s ability to think clearly in adrenaline-inducing moments was a blessing, able to restrain his unending thoughts to connect two together and conjure up a sentence - a few words, a mumble or a plea - to understand whatever happened to you. “What happened?”
Price let out a deep rumble, a laugh from his belly, deep and amused, a striking contrast to their worried frowns. He handled you softly, petting and pinching at the young feathers growing on you while he turned you around, showing them how Price held you with such careful ease and soothing smile. Ghost doubted that Price didn’t have any prior experience in caring for you, seeing how loving he was with you —like a lover caring for his sickened, or a dragon guarding his treasure, Ghost wasn’t sure which one was right.
“Hunter’s a phoenix, “ he smiled softly, eyes gleaming with too much glee, a silent laugh at their sudden bewilderment, approaching you slowly to admire you themselves. “They burst to flames every three years or so, the last one was around five years ago- long overdue for a reset.”
Soap and Horangi were the first to attempt to touch you, the excited dog and the curious feline, tentatively poking at you with a finger until you pecked it, annoyed by their incessant jabbing. You let out a shrill cry from your throat, small and hilariously fierce for something so small and fragile. You crawled to the ends of Price’s fingers, wings flapping to urge them to pick you up instead of pointing a finger and cooing at you as if you were an exotic animal. You somewhat were —exotic, that is.
“A wee thang, aye, Cap?” Soap awed, cradling you in his palms, you weighted so little, as light as a feather on Gaz’s wing.
“Ugly as a rat too,” Horangi snickered, making light of the situation that had made their hearts stop.
You screeched, shaking your head wildly at him, his shoulders bobbing while you showed how offended you felt by acting out, an angry, little chick putting on a show of aggression and courage. His dark thoughts receded, Ghost’s fears and demons falling back into the depths of his mind when his eyes met your beady ones, round and doe-eyed, your age shining through the innocence of a newly-hatched. It made him wonder how you’d look once your feathers grew out, would you be as majestic as the stories portrayed phoenix did, with your great wings and great strength, feathers bathed in the sun’s warm embrace and tipped with the power of undying flames of power. Phoenixes were seen as symbols of immortality, resurrection —of life and death. Untouchable by death and favoured by life, you would live in a cycle of ashes and flames, embers cracking until it softened to flickers, a soft, gentle flame ready to yield to nature.
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gracieheartspedro · 13 days
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About You
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how to help gaza
pairing: colin bridgerton x f!reader, brief benedict bridgerton x reader action
description: finally ready to get off the marriage mart, your family arranges a marriage to a bridgerton. but not the one you have always desired.
word count: 2.4k words
author’s note: hiiii folks. this is part one so more coming soon. I wrote it in an hour after I watched pt1 of season 3. I only edited it a couple times. plus there’s a lack of colin content on this website. so i’m here, filling the void ❤️
You had waited for this night your whole life. The night you would be proposed to. 
Your mother had ensured you wore your finest gown, a soft purple dress with beautiful sparkles and embellishments. She even gifted you a necklace your grandmother had worn the night of her engagement. 
It was a huge moment for everyone involved. But you could not help but feel a pit in your stomach. You wanted to call them nerves, but it was more so you knew you were making a mistake. 
When you arrive at Lady Danbury’s estate, you and your parents step out of a horse-drawn carriage and into a beautifully decorated ball. The candles lined the entrance, and red and white roses encapsulated the entire space. 
You did the typical introductions and curtsies. You thanked Lady Danbury for throwing such a captivating event for your special moment. She smiled and told you that it had to be mesmerizing for such anticipation. You felt light-headed thinking of all the eyes that would be on you tonight. 
You found your way to the ballroom, where ladies and gentlemen alike were already dancing. You find your way around the room, instantly finding a group of ladies you had made acquaintance with before. The four of you chat and they all share that they cannot wait to watch the Bridgerton boy propose to you in front of the masses. 
It makes you sick to your stomach. 
You excuse yourself to find some lemonade on one of the many tables. You would prefer some champagne, but alcohol does not make it right for you. It does not allow any clarity. So, you stand alone, trying to collect your thoughts and not freak out too much before anything happens. 
“There’s my gem.”
His voice is deeper when it’s right in one of your ringlet curls. It also doesn’t help that he’s saying it for your ears only, making the comment even more sensual. 
Colin Bridgerton was terrible at being just your friend. He was always too close to you, always searching you out in a crowd, and constantly waiting around for you at social events. 
He had been doing it for years before he disappeared on a world tour. You knew your time on the marriage mart was over when your mother and father, a Duke and Duchess, pulled aside Violet Bridgerton and begged her to pawn one of her sons off onto you. And while she would have easily convinced Colin, he was in Italy learning about The Pantheon and had stated he had no intentions marrying. 
So, Benedict would have to do.
You turn to face the taller gentleman, ensuring your posture was fixed to that of a Lady. 
“Mister Bridgerton, what do I owe the pleasure?” You falter to formalities, rather than your normal banter with him. You knew people would be watching you like a hawk, as tonight was the night Benedict was going to try to secure a proposal. 
“I have not seen you in a year and suddenly you speaking to me as if I am a stranger,” His voice is confident, but his eyes read the same insecure boy you remember. 
You let out a sly chuckle, “Well, we practically are at this point, are we not? You are the Ton’s most eligible bachelor as soon as you returned from your tour  and I feel like the man gracing me with his presence is not the man I once knew.”
He seems taken aback by your comments, his face dropping a bit. 
“I’ve been hearing whispers amongst the Ton that you’re getting a proposal,” He halts, taking a sip of the lemonade slid between his fingers, “From my brother?”
You hear the jealousy laced in his voice, but you try your best not to call him out on it. You turn around, still shoulder-to-shoulder with the man. “One can only hope, Mister Bridgerton. It would only be my pleasure to join the family.”
“As Benedict’s missus?”
You want to scream at him, but your trained politeness is engrained deep within every fiber of your being. 
“Well, I have you know, that it was arranged by your Mama and my parents. It is simply a way to join our families. You know my Mama and yours have always taken to one another. I did not know you would have such an issue with it.”
Before he can say more, you spot Benedict across the ballroom chatting with Eloise and Francesca. He meets your eyes and gives you a curt nod and smirk. You nod back, knowing that he would approach you once the conversation concludes. You had this whole act down to a science. 
Because that’s what it was for you. An act. A way to make your parents get off your back. It was no love match, it was only practical. Benedict was a gentleman, into the arts, comfortable with moving away from the city. He was everything you needed, just not what you wanted. 
“I leave for a bit of time and suddenly my own brother is courting my best friend,” Colin groans, shifting in his spot. You return your gaze back to him, trying to understand why tonight had to be the night that he fought for you. The term best friend had a bite to it, as well. While you were a lady, you had already shared a kiss with a few boys, including Colin. While you two were underage and not able to make such distinct decisions on marriage, you knew that the feelings you had for him were shared. 
What was so frustrating was that he could never actually confess such feelings. You could see it in his eyes when you glanced his way, but the words never slipped his lips. He only shot flirtations at you and then there was no action as a follow-up. It made your mind race and spin. You started to believe that it was not flirtations at all and it was all just teasing.
“I think you are missing out on the key point in your conjecture, Colin,” You lick your lips, moving only a bit closer to him so no one can hear your words, “You left me. I stayed here and pondered what another season would be like without you. And of course, at the very end of such an event, you decide to be cruel.”
“How am I being cruel, Miss? I am simply stating that you are choosing someone I care about for expedience and not for love.”
“You are being cruel by approaching me and acting like you are even half aware of the circumstances you are speaking of.”
He chuckles, trying not to entertain your comments. “I am well aware that you have always wanted a love match. You know that is not what you are getting with Benedict, Gem.”
Your throat tightens because you know he is right. You have dreamed of a love match since you were a precocious child, enduring all the teasing him and Eloise about it. 
And you knew deep down that the love match you wanted was with him. 
The damn nickname he gave you years ago continues to get a rise. You can feel your face get flushed, the heat rising all the way down your neck and chest. 
“Who said I needed a love match, Mister Bridgerton?!”
You never meant to be loud, but as soon as the words leave your mouth, you realize everyone staring your way. You had seriously messed up. 
Colin did not even look away from your completely shell-shocked expression. He was not focused on the glares and whispers, he only cared that the woman he was in love with was about to marry his brother. He could not let that happen. 
The feeling of embarrassment made every part of your body jittery. You decided that the exit seemed like the best option, so you made your way past everyone and ran to the back garden of the Danbury estate. The flowers that lined the railings made the tears in your vision sparkle like fireworks. 
You try your best to suppress the useless waterworks, but the emotions get the best of you. You felt humiliated that you had to explain your motives to a man who hardly knew you anymore. What does he know?
You find a corner to hide in, making sure your face is hidden away from the exit. When you hear footsteps approach, you pray it’s not a Bridgerton. Sadly, you’re disappointed. 
“What did Colin say to you?”
You remove your cream glove, ensuring no tear touches such an expensive fabric. You needed to collect yourself a bit before turning to face Benedict. So you dab your eyes with your fingertips and spin to face him. He looks concerned, his hand reaching for yours. 
“I am so sorry, Lord Bridgerton. He got the better of me and he still knows how best to irritate me,” your eyes well up again with tears, “I do apologize for not being more put together.”
He squeezes your hand reassuringly, “Do not apologize. I expected him to be a bit tormented by the whole situation.”
You furrow your brows, quizzically. “What ever do you mean?”
“Well, he told my Mama last season that he did not want to marry because you were courting Lord Jacques. That is why he left early for his travels.”
The revelation makes your heart skip a beat, “Why would him marrying have anything to do with me?”
You try to play dumb so maybe you could get more out of the man, but instead of answering you, he just shakes his head. His focus drops, and as soon as you lose fixation on his actions, you notice Colin loitering around the exit. You drop Benedict’s hand and sidestep to get the man in your line of vision. 
“You have never been good at hide and seek, Mister Bridgerton,” You say with spite, “Step into the light.”
His slow meander only makes you more angry. 
“Now, why is my brother alone with my best friend in the garden? Seems like a scandal waiting to happen.” 
Benedict snickers, “Seems like we were never alone, brother. You appear to be around every waiting corner.”
You cross your arms, annoyed with both men and sick of the mortification. You could not help but appreciate Benedict’s snarky nature, it has always thrown Colin off his game. You clear your throat, bringing their eyes to you. 
“I wish to understand why you lied to me about leaving early last season.” 
Colin’s disposition changes as soon as you say it. Last season, Colin left abruptly and wrote you saying it was because of a learning opportunity in Vienna. You took his word for it, but based on what Benedict had just told you, that was a lie. 
“Pardon m-”
“Colin, why did you lie about leaving the season early?”
“Gem, I really do not know where you got this information.”
“Oh, give me a break, Colin. You told me and Anthony that you did not wish to marry unless a girl like her came around. When you realized she was interested in another, you left.” 
Colin races forward, grabbing onto the man to your left. He tugs his vest coat and brings him inches from his own face. The action rattles you, but you remain composed. 
“I told you that in confidence!”
“And you are making her upset with your mind games! If you had just said what your heart’s truth was, you would be the one celebrated tonight. Instead, you stand by and fume over a woman you can no longer have.”
Colin clenches his teeth, “Who said I can no longer?”
Your stomach flips, unsure of how Colin could be so possessive of you. Benedict seems shocked as well because he nudges the man off of him and glances over at you. You realize that this is Colin’s way of confessing his intentions, but you cannot believe that he has to say it on the night of your engagement.
“You are brazen to concur such a thing.”
Colin finally looks at you, taking note of your shaky voice. “So, you are going to marry him?”
The unsettle in your heart has never gone away ever since you were told about the arrangement. You knew that your heart was telling you to run the other way, but you did not want to let down your family. You had taken kindly to Benedict, promenading almost every other day to get to know one another. 
“I have not been asked yet, so I am not quit-”
Colin steps forward taking your hand, “What if I asked you first? Would you accept me? My hand, I mean?”
Benedict steps forward, touching his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Gem, will you marry me?”
A tear slips past your lashes, your heart just about exploding within your chest. Colin’s eyes are desperate, pleading with you.  You are not sure what to say, every possible word escaping you. 
You realize you are panting, the breath leaving your lips labored in panic. You flick your sights over to Benedict, who is stunned but not trying to get Colin to retract his query. You revert your gaze back to Colin’s deep blue eyes.
“Why now?”
He takes a deep breath, “Because I am absolutely useless with my emotions and I have only humiliated myself when I express them. I did not think you would ever consider my hand and had I known that you thought kindly of me I would have told you the first moment you debuted. But I cowered in silence, hoping the emotions I have felt since I was a child would subside. But I have searched every corner of this world and I did not find one lady that made me feel the same emotions I feel when I even just look your way. I hate that it took me so long to realize that you are the only woman I will ever really… love.”
The confession is exactly what you need to change your mind. Because you felt the exact same way. All this time you have been running from the emotions you felt every moment Colin stared in your direction. You thought them immature and vain. But every time you watched him dance with another, the fire within you would burn. You were sick of loving him from far away. 
“The Ton believes me to be promised to Benedict. The embarrassment he will suffer if I accept your proposal could be deafening-”
“Do not worry about me, Miss,” Benedict says, pacing with his hands on his hips, “I could never fully live with myself coming between two lovers. I only waiting for him to realize what we have all been subjected to the last 3 years.”
Colin smirks at him, “And what’s that?”
“The torture of loving someone and not giving in to temptation.”
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dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months
Note
Any chance you’ll be updating The Best Kept Secret on the Grid anytime soon?? And if so can there maybe be some focus with Oscar and how well his rookie seasons going? (Podiums & sprint wins etc)??
The Best Kept Secret on the Grid || Part Five
MV, LN, OP x fem!reader Summary: Japan 2023 - the first time both McLarens were on the podium together Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, m x m, foursome, voyeurism, anal, mctwinks. WC: 2.6k F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six
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The setting was more reserved than usual for an after party. It appeared everyone was still recovering from the massive hangover from Singapore a week ago. Despite not being on the podium for the first time in forever, the biggest upset of the season, Max had still been more than happy to celebrate the race results with you. 
This week there had been an upset of a whole different kind. Max had been back in his rightful place but it was two McLaren’s that had stood alongside him to receive their trophies. 
You licked your lips at the thought of sinking your teeth into the rookie again. Some people may have hated having the sprint races, but you had the pleasure of the added company on a Saturday night during those weeks.
“Do you think they fuck too?”
Max looked up from the ruby he was rolling around in his fingers and he dropped the large pendant back into your cleavage where he had hung it earlier. “Who?”
“The papaya boys.” He followed your gaze to Lando and Oscar who were sitting close together. Lando’s hand covered his lips as he spoke to the rookie and whatever he said brought a blush to the Aussie’s cheeks and a nervous laugh. 
Max chuckled and drew a hand up your thigh until it disappeared beneath the thin fabric you wore. “Guess we’ll find out. Ready to go?” His fingers reached the juncture of your thighs as your legs parted for him and his smirk grew as he found nothing stopping him from touching your pussy. 
“Stupid question, M. I’m always ready for you.”
Max rose to his feet and the movement instantly caught the attention of the two others who shared the podium with him hours earlier. Lando eagerly jumped to his feet but Oscar was more relaxed as he finished his drink in one go before following. Oscar was always calm and collected, even after his first podium finish in the sprint race before summer break. He was the polar opposite of Lando’s hyperactivity.
“These walls are a little thin,” Max commented as he led the way to the penthouse suite in the hotel. He sent a smirk your way as he waved his key card in front of the door. “Aren’t they, baby?”
“We may have received a noise complaint, or two,” you admitted as you took Lando and Oscar’s hand and pulled them inside with you. “But I’m sure between the three of you you can find some creative way to keep me quiet.”
Max closed the door and leaned against it as his keen eyes surveyed the dynamics between the three of you. He made no move to start undressing, in fact he rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows before crossing his arms. “Hmm, someone’s in the mood for watching us have fun,” you said with a wink his way.
His lips tipped up into a smirk that left your knees weak. “Make it good for me, baby.”
You moved first, grabbing Oscar’s collar as you pressed yourself against him and crushed your lips to his. His hands immediately found your ass, pulling you tighter to him as his tongue slipped into your mouth.
Not one to forget you weren’t alone, you hooked your finger into the necklace Lando wore and guided him closer so you could give him the same greeting. You felt the smile on his lips and when he squeezed your ass you heard his quiet moan against your lips, “Bunda.”
You giggled as you stepped back and decided to see how well the teammates really got along. “Now I want to see you two kiss.”
The way they moved together told you they were intimately familiar with each other and despite being the younger one, Oscar took control. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the pretty scene but you felt Max’s fingers brush your spine as he dragged the zip of your dress down your back.
“I knew it,” you whispered to him as the material pooled at your feet leaving you naked between them. “I knew they fucked.”
Their attention was drawn away from each other and they turned their heated gaze to you, drinking in the skin that had been bared. “We haven’t shared anyone else before,” Oscar admitted with flushed cheeks.
“Relax, mate,” Max chuckled, tracing the curve of your spine with his fingertips until he reached your ass and gave it a short sharp spank. You knew without looking he would have smiled at the gasp you gave. “She’ll show you what to do.”
When he had his first podium in Belgium for the sprint race it had taken the rookie a while to grow comfortable. He was more than up for the night's activities, but was also just content to watch at first and see how Max and Pierre interacted with you. Once he found his place in the dynamic there was no holding back and he had kept you in the throes of ecstasy longer than anyone else. He was always ready to prove he was up for a challenge and tonight would be no different.
“He knows exactly what to do, M,” you purred as you began to unbutton Oscar’s shirt. “I still have wet dreams from last time.”
Max took a seat in the leather single seater, a lazy smile playing on his lips as he watched you guide Lando to the large sofa. The back of the British man's knees hit the edge first and he fell down with a grin, his arms reaching to pull you down with him. 
“I need you both to fuck me, right now,” you shamelessly begged as you straddled Lando’s thighs and sunk down on his cock with a moan. “You don’t know how long I have been waiting for you two to get on the podium together.”
Lips brushed your nape before Oscar’s breath warmed your neck and he sucked at your racing pulse. “You think you can take us both, baby?” His strong fingers caught your throat as he craned your neck so he could kiss you harshly, a clash of teeth and lips as they parted for his tongue.
“Just fuck me already, Osc.”
“Don’t forget to breathe,” he warned.
“Fuck,” Max moaned as he unzipped his trousers and stroked himself at the sight before him.
Your head fell to Lando’s shoulder, mouth open in a silent cry. Your back arched and your unprepared body stretched with a delicious burn as Oscar inched himself inside your cunt, brushing his cock along Lando’s.
“Breathe,” Oscar reminded with a chuckle as he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. “Breathe or I won’t move.”
You tried to roll your hips but his hold was too strong so you forced a shuddering breath in and out of your lungs. “Good girl.”
Your cunt clenched at the praise and a chorus of deep moans filled your ears as your pussy gripped them even tighter.
“Osc, please.” You buried your teeth in Lando’s shoulder as he begged for the both of you and you were rewarded with the slow, languid rocks of Oscar’s body behind yours. The hands on your hips pulled you to meet each thrust and your eyes fluttered shut at the growing warmth between your legs.
Spreading his legs wider, Lando braced his feet on the ground and began to slam up into you, adding to the already overwhelming sensation of them moving inside you. You were already well on your way to your first orgasm when Lando sealed his lips around your breast and flicked his tongue over your nipple. Fire erupted across your skin and your stomach tightened when you felt his teeth next, a cry of delight quickly being cut off by Oscar’s hand.
“Shh,” he chuckled as he muffled the sounds of your pleasure. “Don’t want another noise complaint, so keep quiet.”
He eased his hand away and you shared a smirk with Lando before you looked over your shoulder. “Make me.”
Oscar snapped his hips forward as he pushed your face into the crook of Lando’s neck. “Two brats, huh.”
Suddenly you were empty as Oscar pulled out and tugged you to your feet, a whimper escaping at the loss of their cocks that had stretched you so good.
“On your knees,” he purred in your ear, pushing down on your shoulder until you sunk into the carpet between Lando’s legs. “Let’s see if you can run your mouth when it’s full.”
Lando’s cock glistened with your juices and he watched as you eagerly wrapped your fist around his thick base and parted your lips for him. The moment you met his ice blue eyes you were reminded of Max’s, the shade so close thanks to their Belgian heritage. The blue was almost swallowed by his pupils and that black hole grew when you teased him with your tongue.
You licked the bead of precum welling at his tip and as when you took him deeper your own taste coated your tongue in a delicious mix that had you humming. The soft vibrations had Lando screwing his eyes shut and his head fell back with your touch.
“Do you ever get jealous?” Oscar asked Max while he palmed your ass and lined himself up with your dripping folds. “Watching everyone fuck your girlfriend? Or whatever you guys are.”
Your eyes burned as Lando gripped the back of your head and bucked his hips, fucking your mouth.
“Why would I be jealous?” Max chuckled, his hand gripping his dick tighter, squeezing out another drop of precum that he rolled his thumb through. “We are all having a good time and enjoying ourselves. Does it matter how it happens?”
You pulled back and wiped your swollen lips as you looked up at Lando. “I don’t think I have ever heard him talk so much.”
Your ass smarted with the smack Oscar landed on it and you bit your lip as you moaned loudly. “Is that the best you can do?”
Lando’s smirk grew as Oscar raised his hand. “Such a brat.”
“Look who’s talking.” Your eyes fluttered shut as Oscar brought his hand down harder on your ass and your body erupted. Waves of pleasure rocked through you and Oscar’s rhythm faltered as he felt your walls tighten around him.
Your cheek fell on Lando’s thigh as you lost the ability to hold your head up while Oscar still fucked you relentlessly, keeping your body in the rush of the high. Your panting tickled the dark hairs on Lando’s thigh and he squirmed as he stroked his length, running the wet tip of his cock over your lips with a smirk.
“Don’t forget about me,” he teased.
Flicking your tongue out, he shuddered as it lapped at the sensitive underside but before you could wrap your lips around him again you were lifted to your shaking feet. 
“Hey, I was enjoying that,” you said with a pout to Oscar as he turned you in his arms and crushed his lips to yours, tongue dominating your mouth. 
“Don’t worry, we are far from finished,” he promised as Lando’s fingers dipped between your thighs to feel how wet you were. Teasingly slow, he withdrew those fingers and held them out for Oscar to taste. Your core throbbed at the sight of him cleaning your essence off Lando’s fingers with a deep hum and a small sound from your lips. 
“You liked watching us, didn’t you?” Oscar teased with a secretive smile and he leaned closer so his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Do you want to watch me fuck Lando?”
“Yes, please,” you whined with need. 
“But I want to watch him fuck you,” Oscar mused, chewing his bottom lip as he debated the conundrum. 
The throb in your core beat harder at his words and you curled a finger under his chin as you sent him a wink. “Like Max said, I’ll show you what to do.”
You stepped back and looked at Max to see his cheeks flushed pink as he watched you sink back down on Lando’s cock, only this time you were facing away from him. You reached between your legs and dug your nails into his thighs, tugging them open wide as Oscar took a deep breath. 
“Isn’t our little minx clever,” Max chuckled with a proud smile. He had the perfect view of you bouncing on Lando’s cock, your pussy stretched and glistening so prettily. His hand pumped up and down his hard length in time to the pace you set and Oscar knelt between Lando’s legs.
“Fuck, yes,” Oscar exhaled as he stole your arousal to used it to prep Lando ready for him.
You nearly came at the vision of Oscar easing his dick into Lando and the sounds in the room grew louder with each inch until he couldn’t go any deeper. Bracing your hands on Oscar’s shoulders, you used him to ride Lando, both of your eyes fixated on the way you all moved together, him in and out, and you up and down.
Max rose from the chair, kicking his trousers off before pulling his shirt over his head. You lost sight of him as he walked around the back of the couch but you heard him when he stopped behind you. “Lando is a fucking mess.”
Oscar tore his eyes away to peek over your shoulder and a proud smile grew on his face. “Oh, he is so fucked out right now.”
Unable to resist, you slowed down and looked over to see the utter bliss on his face. His eyes were half hooded, his jaw slack as he succumbed to the pleasure you were giving him, unintelligible sounds whispered with dry lips from his panting. Behind him Max was barely in a better state with the vein in his temple pronounced as he overstimulated himself. With one hand fisted his cock and the other combed through Lando’s damp hair, tugging the strands until his head fell further back into the cushion and his mouth opened wider. 
“Oh fuck,” you moaned when Lando’s tongue swirled around the tip of Max’s cock. Your legs were quaking and a fine tremor traced your spine as another orgasm ripped through you hard enough to send colours dancing around your eyes. “Fuck, I-I-oh...my…god.” 
Oscar had watched your orgasm take hold and couldn’t help licking the pad of his thumb before pressing it to your clit until you were just as fucked out as Lando. Overstimulated, your legs fell twitching either side of his and jolts of aftershocks pulsed down them. Within seconds Lando cried out around Max’s cock as he came just as hard. 
“Oh, shit, so fucking tight,” Oscar panted as Lando’s orgasm tipped him over the edge and he buried himself as deep as possible before spilling in him.
Max was still trying to hold on, but when you laid back against Lando’s chest and your lips parted with heavy breaths he needed to reach the same high. Pulling out he pumped his fist twice more before grunting as thick ropes of cum splattered Lando’s lips.
“Mhmm,” you hummed happily as you caught Lando’s chin and guided his face to yours. You shared the taste of Max with a messy kiss and his cock twitched where it was still buried inside you. “You papaya boys need to get on the podium together more often.”
Oscar laughed as he fell back on his heels and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “How does next weekend sound?”
Click here for next part.
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sturnioloskyline · 3 months
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flu season
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pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader
warnings: illness, crying, language, sickening fluff(get it?)
summary: you get the flu and don’t tell matt, so he gets worried takes things into his own hands
being sick sucks. no one knew that bettter than y/n, who was currently buried under blankets on her couch in her apartment in la. this morning she woke up sweating with a pounding headache and an inability to breathe through the congestion in her nose.
she called in sick to work and stayed in bed until noon before mustering up enough strength to get up and make a cup of ramen noodles. she then settled to watch a movie on the couch, where she ended up falling asleep.
not far away, matt nervously chewed on the skin in his cheek as he stared at his phone. he had sent 5 texts to his girlfriend today, none of them having received a response.
matt knew this meant something was wrong, because usually y/n would text him a sweet “good morning” the second she started her day. they weren’t fighting, at least that matt knew of, so of course matt was sent into a anxious spiral over the lack of responses from his girlfriend.
finally, matt ripped his eyes away from the screen, walking over to the kitchen where his two brothers were standing, giggling to each other. matt ignored them and grabbed his car keys from the counter, immediately catching the other triplets’ attention.
“matt, where are you going?” chris whined.
“y/n’s.” matt quickly replied, stuffing the keys into his pocket and heading for the garage. chris and nick immediately looked to each other in worry at the expression on their brother’s face.
“is everything okay?” nick asked matt cautiously.
“i don’t know, she isn’t responding to any of my texts,” matt rambled, putting on his shoes. “i’m just gonna go make sure she’s okay.”
matt rushed out the door before his brothers could say anything else. he got in his car and began driving over to y/n’s place. he chewed on his lip nervously as he drove, his anxiety only growing the longer he didn’t hear from y/n.
after what seemed like hours, matt parked outside y/n’s apartment building and made his way home to her front door. he rang the doorbell immediately and stepped back to wait for her.
inside the apartment, y/n jolted awake at the sound of her doorbell ringing. her head was throbbing in pain, her throat was scratchy, and the air in her living room felt ten times colder than it was when she fell asleep. she got up from her nest on the couch and shivered, grabbing one of the blankets and wrapping it around herself.
the doorbell rang again, creating a sense of urgency as y/n tried to compose herself somewhat for whoever could be ringing her doorbell and disrupting her afternoon. she struggled to the door, messing with the lock weakly before finally swinging the door open.
“y/n,” matt sighed in relief immediately as y/n opened the door.
“matt?” y/n croaked out in shock. heat rose to her cheeks. she hadn’t invited matt over, and was unprepared for him to see her. matt and y/n had only been dating for a while, and she had never been sick around her ever. “what are you doing here?”
“i needed to see if you were okay. are you okay?” matt asked, his face scrunching slightly with worry once again as his eyes scanned over y/n’s pale face.
y/n didn’t know if it was the shock of her boyfriend showing up to her apartment, the embarrassment she felt from her sickly look, or how miserably sick she felt, but suddenly her eyes watered and her lip trembled as she shook her head at matt.
“oh, baby,” matt whispered, stepping into the apartment and wrapping his arms around y/n.
she immediately melted into his arms, a weight on her shoulders lifted as matt locked the door behind him and held y/n in his arms in silence. tears streamed down her cheeks as she sniffled into his jacket. matt leaned down and kissed the top of her head.
“wanna sit down?” matt asked as y/n’s cries softened. y/n simply nodded, letting matt lead her back to the couch. when the sat down, matt wrapped one arm around y/n frame, letting her lean into him. “what’s wrong?”
“i caught the flu.” y/n sniffed, rubbing her sore eyes. “i feel like shit.”
“i’m sorry baby,” matt whispered into y/n’s hair, letting his fingertips graze up and down her arm.
“i’m sorry you have to deal with this,” y/n mumbled, suddenly shy of matt seeing her with her messy hair and in t-shirt and sweats.
“you have nothing to be sorry about,” matt scoffed, bringing his hand to her cheek and tilting her head up to place a soft peck on her lips. as if sensing her insecurity, matt giggled “you look so pretty right now.”
y/n blushed and leaned impossibly further into matt’s arms. “can you stay here with me?”
“of course,” matt spoke softly, pulling y/n closer to his chest. a few minutes later, y/n’s breathing slowed, and matt looked down at her head buried in his chest.
“babe?” matt whispered. y/n didn’t respond. matt smiled at his girlfriend’s sleeping figure before reaching over to grab one of the blankets from the couch and draping it over both of their bodies. matt leaned his face down to kiss the top of y/n’s head, before letting his own eyes flutter shut.
author’s note: pls don’t bully me this is my first try! i literally have never written on tumblr before and i haven’t written in like 2 years anyways, so. but if u have any advice or want a part 2 pls let me know!!!!!! OK BYE
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teamatsumu · 3 months
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kept me waiting. (suna rintarou x reader)
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summary: for six years, you have loved no other alpha except suna.
word count: 3397
warnings: a/b/o dynamics, alpha!suna, omega!fem!reader, some angst, smut, typical omegaverse jargon (mating, knotting, scent, slick), oral (fem receiving)
tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead @priv-rose
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There’s only so long you could have waited.
At 16 years old, you were a budding omega. You had presented recently and were trying to adjust to the changes that came with your secondary gender. You were curious about yourself, and about others as well. In your uncertain new beginning, you met Suna Rintaro.
He had presented as an Alpha about a year ago, and he was more comfortable in his skin than you were. He was brooding and slightly lazy, but endlessly perceptive. Clever. And he smelled to you like a garden you wanted to lay in, surrounded by grass and flowers. He brought you comfort. And your novice omega heart fell in love with him.
The kettle whistled, indicating that your water was ready for a cozy cup of tea. You pour it into a cup, grab your muffin and your tea before settling on the couch. It was evening time and the TV was on, loud cheering emitting from its speakers. You placed your blanket over your lap and then rested your plate on it, finally turning your attention to the screen and the live game that was about to start. You had never once missed a game of Suna’s, after all.
Almost 7 years since you had first met the boy, and to this day, you heart yearned for him. He was your best friend, your most personal confidant. The love of your life, though that fact was not known by him. Your Omega had attached herself to him explicitly, vowed to love him forever, and despite him not returning your feelings, you hung on to the tiniest, withering hope that somehow, things between you two would work out.
The game was an exhilarating one, and in the end, EJP Raijins came out of it victorious. You watched the team celebrate on screen, grinning wide and cheering them on silently. When the camera panned to Suna, your heart squeezed. You shot him a quick congratulations text, asking him how he wanted to celebrate. Suna had informed you beforehand that he would be crashing at yours after the game, since you lived so close to the venue. You had enthusiastically agreed, of course. Any excuse to spend more time with him.
Half an hour later, your phone pinged with a reply from him.
‘Will be back late, sorry.. dont wait up’
You pursed your lips in disappointment before sighing loudly and resigning to an early night. It was fine, you were tired from work anyway, so getting extra sleep will be good. But spending some time with Suna….
He had been so busy lately, with rigorous practices leading up to the beginning of this season. You hadn’t seen him in weeks, and you didn’t enjoy that fact, nor did your omega. You missed him terribly. You swallowed down your sadness and trudged into bed. It was a familiar feeling when it came to Suna. The yearning and the realization that he wasn’t yours.
When you woke up the next morning, the sun was high in the sky and filtering through your closed curtains. You groaned and cursed softly, not expecting to sleep in so late. Your mood only lightened when you walked into the kitchen and found Suna sitting on the island, scrolling through his phone over a steaming cup of tea. His hair was messy and unkempt, indicating that he just woke up, but the sight of him had your face lifting with a smile.
“Rin!” You greeted, clearing your throat when you heard how hoarse your voice was. “Congratulations on the game!”
“Hey,” His smile made your heart squeeze. “Sorry, did I wake you last night?”
You blinked in confusion. “No?”
“Oh.” He chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. “Good, good.”
You eyed him for a moment, trying to gauge what he meant. You walked toward the kettle that was still going, planning on pouring some of it for yourself too. As you moved past the man, a scent hit your nose and your body stiffened.
Omega.
There was no doubt in your head. It was an omega scent, wafting off Suna in waves and mixing intimately with his own wonderful scent. You froze behind him, nose twitching when you took another deep breath and identified the scent even more distinctly. You didn’t recognize it, but you knew it was omega. And the way it was coming off Suna, focused so closely on his scent glands meant only one thing.
“Why’d you get here so late, Rin?” There was a little tremble in your voice.
Suna didn’t seem to notice, scrolling idly through his phone, distracted. He hummed a bit in question before replying.
“Drinking with the guys.” He drawled.
And then? You didn’t ask. It wasn’t your place. You loved foolishly believing that Suna was your Alpha but he wasn’t. And you couldn’t exactly tell him to not see any omega when you didn’t have any claim on him either. Silently, you left the kitchen, hoping he wouldn’t call after you, walking into your room and closing the door. You leaned your forehead against the warm wood and closed your eyes.
Stupid. Stupid. What right did you have to feel the way you did? Suna wasn’t yours. He could be with anyone he pleased. He could sleep with other omegas. Scent them. Court them. Knot them. Your throat tightened.
So then why did you feel like a wounded animal? Why was your omega whining like she had lost her mate and not some random alpha she had unfairly been obsessed with for so long? In moments like this, you hated your secondary gender. You hated your omega. You hated that you were so in love with Suna that this felt like cheating to you.
However, your hurt was exclusively your own, and you couldn’t project it onto anyone else. Suna was here now, and even though the sight of him made you weep, you still found joy in being around him. You would spend the day with him, and get the closure you needed. Then you would lick your wounds and move on. You had waited long enough.
So that’s what you did. And here you were now, a week later, sitting across from an Alpha you had met just today, listening to him talk about his job and his hobbies while you smiled and nodded. There was an almost bitter undertone to your feelings. Over the days, your sadness had transformed into anger. It was unjustified and not really something Suna deserved, but you still directed it at him. Because he had ruined you for anyone else.
The Alpha before you was a perfect gentleman. He was a friend of your friend’s, and everything she had told you about him was true. He was kind, well spoken, good looking. He knew how to carry a conversation, since he was doing most of the talking while you rolled around in your own head.
But he wasn’t witty. He wasn’t quick and sly. He didn’t have a thin, cutting smirk and narrow green eyes that pierced through you. He didn’t smell like freshly cut grass and cool, open air.
He wasn’t Suna.
After the date, he walked you to the train station, where you claimed you would get on the train home. He gave you a respectful hug and smiled kindly when you said you would call (you wouldn’t call). Then, when he mixed in with the crowd and disappeared, you turned around and walked straight out, beginning to trudge on foot to your home.
Your thoughts were all over the place, your eyes were lined with unshed tears, your breath felt like it was trapped in your lungs. You didn’t comprehend the stupidity behind walking all the way home, and how it would take hours. Your friend texted you, asking about the date. You didn’t reply. Instead, you tapped on that one cursed name that you couldn’t wipe from your mind and sent only two words.
Fuck you.
It took you two and a half hours to walk home. It could have been quicker if you weren’t in heels. After about half an hour of walking in them, your feet began to hurt. You used the pain to distract yourself from the jumble of thoughts in your head, and by the time you got home, you didn’t even want to look down at them. You couldn’t imagine how bad they looked, if the tingling and shooting pains were any indication. It now traveled up your legs and to your lower back, aching all over. At some point, the air nipped cold at your cheeks, and you finally noticed that it was because of the tears that now ran down them.
When you unlocked the door and stepped inside the warmth of your apartment was the first time you seemed to be aware of your surroundings. You froze just inside the door when a large figure blocked the light, making you look up at a scowling Suna.
“Where the hell were you? I was calling like crazy!” His voice was louder than his usual register, and more emotional. You blinked a bit and sniffled. Your skin felt stiff because of the dried tears. Your feet still screamed.
“Why are you here?” Your voice was low.
“I’m-” Suna’s eyes traveled down, and they widened slightly at the sight of your feet.
“What did you- did you walk?”
You sighed and lumbered past him, ignoring the pleading protests of your feet to get the weight off them. You finally sat down on the couch, feeling no better. The pain was still there. You kept your focus acutely on it, trying not to look at the one man who was causing your misery. But he seemed adamant on making himself known, kneeling before you to help take off your shoes. You jerked your legs away. Suna looked up at you, shocked.
“Don’t touch me.” Your voice was cutting.
Something flashed in his eyes. “Let me help.”
“I don’t need your help. I don’t need you.”
Suna reached for your shoe strap again. “Don’t be stubborn, omega.”
You felt your blood boil and you finally raised your voice. “Don’t call me that!”
He eyed you for a moment. “What? Omega? Aren’t you one?”
“Suna-”
He glared at you. Glared. A withering look that almost made you shrink. But your emotions were too great. You grit your teeth and didn’t say anything. Didn’t address the fact that you had called him by his last name for the first time in six years.
Suna peeled your shoes off your feet as gently as he could. But it hurt regardless, and you hissed when they finally came off. He ran soothing hands over the tender, angry skin. You tried not to think about his touch, tried not to sink into the feeling. But your efforts only made tears gather in your lash line once more. You eyed his raven hair, his head bent low to look at your feet. He sat cross legged before you, laying light touches on the swollen parts of your feet.
“Why are you here?” You repeated.
“Well, when my best friend texted me a colorful ‘fuck you’ out of nowhere, then proceeded to ignore all my calls, I was understandably worried.”
You sighed and looked away just before he could meet your eyes. He continued. “You wanna tell me what that was about?”
You didn’t reply, pointedly looking away. You cursed at the moment of weakness that caused your lapse of judgment and made you text him. Him showing up was your own mistake.
He exhaled loudly, looking down at your feet that he was still gently massaging. “I didn’t sleep with anyone.”
Your head snapped to him in shock, eyes wide and mouth dropped open. Suna didn’t look up, but his lips twitched into a little smile.
“That’s why you’ve been acting so weird, right? For the last few days? You were pissed and sad that your Alpha slept with another omega.”
Your mind reeled, and you sat frozen as you tried but failed to absorb Suna’s words. Your alpha?
When he looked up, his lips were tilted in a crooked smile. “I wouldn’t do that to you, baby.”
Again, you lurched. You tried to pull your feet from his grasp, to stand up and get away from him, put any distance between you two. Maybe his scent was making you heady. Maybe you were hallucinating. He gripped at your leg, making sure you stayed put.
“You’re- I don’t know what you’re saying.” You rasped.
Suna chuckled before sighing a bit defeatedly. “I wanted to confess in a more romantic way than this but you started being all distant and shit. I can’t see you like this.”
You couldn’t believe it. You had so many questions and not enough answers for the predicament you were in. And Suna’s pretty forest eyes didn’t help keep your head straight either.
“You- what do you mean confess?”
Suna’s hand ran up your bare calf lightly, you felt goosebumps rise on your skin.
“What do you think it means?” He countered in classic Suna fashion. Answering your question with a question. “Telling you that I like you. Taking you out. Courting you. Mating you. The whole she-bang.”
For the hundredth time today, tears filled your eyes. “Rin….”
He watched you, eyes forlorn as you silently weeped. His hand still rubbed comfortingly over your legs. Up and down, slow motions. His touch grounded you.
“You made me wait-” You hiccuped. “-for so long.”
Suna continued eyeing you. He leaned forward to rest his head on your knee. “I thought you knew how much I liked you. I spend all my time with you. I scent your clothes, dammit. I thought you weren’t saying anything on purpose. That you wanted to come to me on your own terms.”
You smacked his shoulder hard. He didn’t even budge. “You are such an asshole.”
Suna chuckled a bit before turning his head and laying a kiss on the side of your knee. The skin tingled. He pulled away only a hair, and his breath hit your skin. A chill ran up your leg. Suna turned his head only slightly, his eyes meeting yours. Your heart skipped. Heat ran down your body, settling at the base of your stomach.
His lips skimmed over the bare skin of your knee. His left hand, placed on your right shin, traveled slowly up your leg until it dipped below the hem of your dress. Your breath caught in your throat. Your core grew damp. Suna’s gaze heated up, and his lip twitched with a tiny smirk.
“I can smell you.”
You bit your lip when his hand traveled up, up, until his skin was meeting delicate lace.
“So wet, omega.” He nipped at your leg. “And I haven’t even done anything. So good for your Alpha. So ready.”
His unoccupied hand hooked under your knee and tugged until your hips reached the edge of your couch, until you were laying back on it. Your eyes didn’t leave him. His words ran straight between your legs, making you clench hard. You bit your lip and looked at Suna with teary eyes.
“Rin.”
You had nothing else to say. Suna let out a breathy laugh and increased the pressure of his thumb on your slit. You gasped.
“Will you be good f’me?” His voice was octaves deeper. “Let me eat out your sweet little pussy?”
His crude language made you moan. Suna finally moved, lips going higher over your thigh until he bypassed your body completely and leaned up to connect his lips with yours. You grasped the sides of his face, kissing him back hard and deep. You poured every emotion into that one kiss, letting Suna lap over your lips hungrily. His scent enveloped you like a comforter, one hand pushing up the skirt of your dress while the other’s movements grew more urgent on your clothed pussy. You were slicking up rapidly. You could feel it run from your hole and down your ass until it landed on the couch. You couldn’t give less of a shit if you were dirtying the furniture. Your brain was rapidly turning into mush as your omega preened under Suna’s attention, his tongue invading your mouth like it was his own and he was only reclaiming it.
“Pretty baby.” He rasped into your mouth. “Good little omega. Get wetter for me. Need to drink all your juice.”
Your face felt like it was on fire, and you whined right against his lips. When he pulled away, you tried to chase after him, already addicted to the high that his lips brought. Suna hummed in amusement and tugged on your panties, pulling them off your ankles. He pressed the fabric directly to his nose and breathed deep. You watched him with half lidded eyes as you bit your lip to hell.
“You smell so fucking divine.” Suna groaned. “Always thought so. Loved cuddling up to you. Being close to you. My lovely omega.”
You moaned again, feeling how you gushed at his words. You didn’t realize you were into praise, but when it came from Suna, it lit a fire inside you. You clenched hard around nothing, now acutely aware of your rapidly building need.
“Rin,” you gasped. “Please. Please.”
“I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.” He shamelessly pried your legs open. You let him. “I’ll take such good care of my omega.”
His first lick was a thick stripe up your open slit, filthy and hungry, before he licked harder and faster over your clit. You gasped at the contact, the urgent relief of finally having stimulation you were craving so much. Your fingers automatically buried themselves in his soft hair, tugging tight at the roots. Suna hummed his approval and suctioned his lips on your clit, lapping and slurping like he was a man starved.
He was glorious at it, eating pussy like it was his last meal, hands holding your thighs apart firmly so his movements were unhindered. Stars burst in your vision and your hips jerked, not sure if you wanted to lean into him or tug away from how intense it was. Your torso undulated and arched, tears ran down the sides of your face and you moaned unencumbered. Suna seemed to enjoy it, because he pulled off with a wet smooch and replaced his lips with his thumb, not leaving you dry for one second.
“So fucking delicious.” His voice had gone scratchy and wrecked. “Good fucking girl. Moan for me, baby. God, I could do this forever.”
You felt something prod at your entrance before two fingers rapidly sank into you to the knuckle, curling hard and rubbing at your walls. You cried out again, not even embarrassed by how wet the noises became, how potent your scent was becoming, you badly you needed to cum on his fingers or you didn’t know what you would do-
His lips sealed over your clit and you were gone.
Suna didn’t even slow his movements as you reached your high. He helped prolong it, sucking harder and pushing his fingers in and out of you, scissoring and curling until your walls felt abused and used beyond belief. You wailed and weeped as you dug your fingers into the couch cushion under you. You had slid so far down the couch that it nearly bent you in half. You tried to close your legs and Suna finally pulled out, kissing over your mound a few times before he leaned up and attached his lips to the skin of your neck, licking and biting lightly over your scent gland, trying to embed his own scent into you. The feeling of him so close to that spot had your mind reeling. You hugged him close.
“Bite me.”
Suna kissed you again. “Not like this.”
“But I love you.”
He chuckled and sucked lightly on your skin until it darkened. “Still won’t mate you on a couch. When I do it, it’s going to be with your cunt full of my knot.”
You flushed and groaned in embarrassment, feeling the way your core pulsed again. Suna laughed and nuzzled your neck.
“Don’t worry. I have a lot of loving to give you before we get there.”
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kooktrash · 7 months
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season of the witch | jeon jungkook
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summary: he’s not a bad boy, he just gets himself in bad situations at times that lead him to bizarre happenings. for instance, he had no intentions of visiting an occult shop in the middle of the night in search for a phone… but here he is in the middle of October feeling himself fall for the self-titled witch who owned it. suddenly he’s gone from your casual heart breaker, to your sweet boy next door.
˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.˚ genre/au: heartbreaker!jk x witch!y/n [she/her], whimsigoth, modern witch, halloween .⊹✶ ✶ ✶☾✴
˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆. 16.9k words˚.⊹✶✴
warnings: smut. fluff. very slight angst if you squint. honestly pretty cute. oc gives off whimsigoth vibes but honestly a big softie. mentions of spells and hexes. jk is a skeptic. oc has a black cat named. jk becomes a bit spiritual. honestly just a cute modern witch fic inspired by your 90s witch. no protection bc they’re idiots and didn’t plan. oc is scared to get in relationships. soft sex. oral sex [f receiving] jk is a service dom highkey. actual magic moments but they’re brushed over
HALLOWEEN SPECIAL
mentions of the occult [loosely referenced] it’s just a little Halloween thing, fiction and not at all educational or informative
“Admit that we’re lost.”
The street was as dark as night and empty. It felt like they were the only two signs of life around and yet he refused to admit he’s lost. There’s lit jack-o-lanterns on people’s yards so he knows he’s still close to civilization and that’s enough to keep him going—and he swears he’s not being dramatic.
“We’re not lost,” he said, not bothering to look back at his friend who surely rolled his eyes with annoyance, following after him nonetheless.
“Jungkook, it’s late, I’m tired, just admit we’ve been walking in circles,” his friend said, words falling on deaf ears. Jungkook just smiled, pointing ahead at the first true source of light they’ve seen for a while, “Let’s go there.”
It was almost midnight and most businesses around here were already closed and yet there was a small shop with a red lighting store front and plants hanging from the ceiling. There was a sign on the door that said, ‘OPEN’, with its business hours printed beneath and the shop’s name painted on the window. He didn’t hesitate to swing the door open, hearing the bell above the door ring as they entered the strange shop.
There was so much to look at from books to multi colored rocks separated into groups with labels on them; Tiger’s Eye, Black Onyx, Topaz, Amethyst, the list went on. Hanging above were various green plants and small jars lining the shelves on the walls of rose petals, lavender, mandrake, and plants he’s never heard of before.
“What is this place?” Hoseok asked with a small scoff in disbelief as he held up a charcoal pentagram and a bundle of sage. There were skeleton paper weights and bottles of various oils that gave the shop an herbal smell he couldn’t tell if he liked or not.
Jungkook didn’t have much to say, only shrugged his shoulders in response as he let his attention be drawn toward a hanging suncatcher that caught the red light used to warm the plants in the cold. His hand reached out to touch, watching it dangle and effortlessly swing away from him. There was no one behind the wooden counter filled with handmade jewelry made of copper and nickel twisted in various designs of trees, moons, suns and vines circling around crystals. There was an open book at the counter and he curiously walked toward it, wondering if it was a product list or maybe even the name of the person working but he could barely make out the words or even the dark sketches.
Just as he came to admit there was nobody here, a soft mewl caught his attention.
Yellow eyes stared into his brown ones as he looked up at the wall of ceramic figures behind the counter, and a black cat sat perfectly still next to a small sc of a dragon. He couldn’t look away from it, even when a soft sound of footsteps were heard from behind a tall, woven tapestry with embroidered stars that concealed a wooden spiral staircase.
“Coal, where’d you run off to?” Your voice was light and whimsical yet when you appeared behind the counter, you were dressed in black, a lot of it. A long black skirt with a thin black top that had green vines laced throughout it. Over it you had on a black shawl slipped down your shoulders.
Jungkook and Hoseok shared a strange look as they stood unnoticed while you picked up your cat to scold him for leaving while you talked. Jungkook tried to grab your attention by clearing his throat and once your eyes were on his, he smiled, “Um… hi, we saw that your shop was open and we were won—“
“Coal, I told you to flip the sign,” you whispered to the black cat as you let him jump out of your arms with an annoyed meow when you whispered, “Bad kitty.”
“Uh…” Jungkook couldn’t hide his look of confusion at the way you acted, “We’re uh, we’re lost and we were wondering if you had a phone we could use to call a tow truck.”
“Oh? Have you been in an accident?” You asked curiously, tucking some hair behind your ear creating a small jingle with all the jewelry you wore.
“Funny story actually,” Hoseok said, making you look him over with a raised brow—unable to ignore the bloody hockey jersey he wore, “We were at a party and uh, we got robbed. It was a whole shit show, honestly, we’ve been walking for over an hour and our car broke down so we’re going through it and we really just need a phone.”
“Coal, can you get my phone?” You turned to the cat that had made itself comfortable laying in a basket of dried moss. The cat didn’t make a move to leave, instead he turned his head away making you roll your eyes and add, “Please?”
Jungkook watched the cat run off behind the curtain with interest before looking at you, your eyes already on his, “So what kind of place is this?”
“It’s your local apothecary! Herbs, oils, incense—your occasional occult stuff, we specialize in the craft,” you said with a bubbly voice, “All very interesting stuff.”
“I’ll say,” Hoseok lifted a finger to tap on the mason jar filled with green liquid.
“What are you supposed to be?” You asked rather suddenly, turning your attention to Jungkook.
“Me?” Jungkook asked, looking down at himself, “I’m Dumbledore.”
He thought the long white beard, oversized robe and elder wand made that abundantly clear. You looked him up and down, “Hm.”
Hoseok couldn’t help but release a chuckle at the way you very clearly judged his friend’s choice of costume, “Yeah, I told him he would pull no bitches dressed like th—“
“Hobi,” Jungkook cut him off, motioning toward you with his head at the way your eye seemed to twitch with what he said. He tried to think of something to say but you were no longer interested when your cat came with the top of a phone case in his mouth. He set it down on the counter, letting his tail curl around your arm before leaving with a purr.
When you unlocked your phone, Jungkook thanked you and quickly tried to call a tow truck only to be told there were none open now. Hoseok couldn’t hide the fact that he was tired and found himself lying comfortably in a dark green daybed surrounded by books, leaving his friend to deal with all the hard parts. You didn’t say or rush anything when he took your phone and instead chose to watch him pace back and forth dialing every number he knew.
“This place is cozy,” Hoseok admitted, “I could nap here.”
“Coal, does it all the time,” you said with a soft smile, both tuning out Jungkook who was getting more annoyed by the second.
“Hyung, please pick us up,” Jungkook said in the background, tired of the itchy long beard so he snatched it off.
“I might get a promotion this week, what’s something I can use to wish me luck?” Hoseok asked, looking around the shop.
“I can help you make a spell jar, grab a basket,” you said cheerily as the hockey player got up to do as told. Jungkook tapped on the glass counter, starting a staring contest with the black cat while you and Hoseok began to collect herbs.
“I’ll send you my location,” Jungkook told the person on the phone, “15 minutes? We can wait here.”
“What does cinnamon do?” Hoseok asked, drawing Jungkook’s attention toward him.
“Alright, thanks Joon.” Jungkook hung up the phone, “Namjoon is coming for us. What are you guys doing?”
“Have you ever done a palm reading?” You asked Hoseok, ignoring Jungkook.
“No, but I’m down to try.”
“Sorry for keeping you up,” Jungkook said with a tired sigh as he looked at you hoping for a bit of acknowledgment on your part but you were currently helping Hoseok seal a mason jar with green candle wax.
Look…
Just listen…
Jungkook doesn’t think he has a type. He’s been with every type of girl possible since he started college but he’s never spoken to anyone like you. It’s not even just the way you’re dressed or the way you speak to your car but it’s also the store you worked at—or owned[?]. You’ve got his best friend making a good luck spell in the middle of the night and yet all Jungkook could think about is how cute you were.
Your skirt was fitted and it hugged your waist perfectly, exposing your torso and the way your shawl hung around your elbows instead of your shoulders was hot. You had these eyes that drew him in too, maybe it was your smudged dark makeup that made them stand out or the way you didn’t shy from staring into his eyes but he found it hard to look away.
“It’s a full moon tonight,” you said to him, “I was going to stay up anyway. I’ve already set up water to charge overnight.”
His brows furrowed, “Well, thanks anyway. What’s your name?”
“Y/n.”
“I’m Hoseok but you can call me Hobi,” Hoseok said with a confident smile, “This great wizard is Jungkook.”
“Dumbledore,” you said questioningly, “You took off your beard.”
“It was itchy,” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly.
You looked behind him, “Coal doesn’t seem to think so.”
Jungkook followed your stare, finding the black cat suddenly wearing the long white beard. Hoseok laughed, “Not you putting the beard on the cat, Kook.”
“I didn’t,” Jungkook scratched the back of his head, “Did I?”
You brushed past him, a soft scent of lavender incense overwhelmed him in a pleasant way and he couldn’t help but watch you in awe. There was just something about you… or maybe he’s had a long night and is imagining it.
“Joon is here.”
He can’t explain what it is but he can’t stop looking at you. Every move you made had his attention no matter how small and for a moment he forgot who else was around.
“Jungkook,” Hoseok snapped his fingers in front of his face, pointing out the window at the car parked outside, “Namjoon is here.”
“Oh, right,” Jungkook shook his head to snap out of the small trance he had been in, “Um, thank you Y/n, for letting us in.”
“No worries, Dumbledore, it made for an interesting night,” you held your cat in your arms now, forcing it to wave its paw goodbye, “And I do hope you tell me if the spell worked, Hobi.”
The two wanderers left the small shop of wonders and got in their friend’s car without further question, ending their night on a strange note that left one of them with curiosity.
The shop was home to you. It is where you felt most comfortable and it was passed down to you from a young age. It was a responsibility to help everyone who walked in, even if they asked for questionable things, you had to be there for them.
That’s why when a woman came in with tears down her face and a bundle of cash, you couldn’t just turn her away. Today your friend was working with you and he excelled in this sort of magic better than you did so you let him take the reel. He never seemed to mind intervening in the love lives of others and the shop was a safe space for men who’ve just been robbed and women who’ve been wronged.
“He’s a cheater,” she cried, “He lied to me a-and he thinks I’m just dumb. It’s not fair.”
“It’s not,” your friend said with a small smile, “Men like that can’t just walk around without any repercussions.”
“Jimin,” you warned him softly, watching the way he seemed to get the woman hyped on the thought of getting back at her husband. This is where he specialized, any sort of love magic no matter how bad, he loved it. You weren’t like him, you believed too much in karma to involve yourself in bad situations but you were never able to talk him out of it and it made the customer happy.
“Hush, Y/n, a simple hex never hurt anyone,” Jimin said, practically kicking his feet with glee, “Would that make you feel better, honey?”
The woman nodded her head, completely hypnotized by your best friend he disappeared behind another curtain toward the greenhouse. You waited behind idly, unsure what to do or say when a delivery driver pulled up in front of the building. Coal had flipped the sign to ‘CLOSED’ while Jimin performed his magic and the driver got out of his car holding a bouquet of flowers and a small box.
“Trust me, after this he won’t ever be able to please another woman again,” Jimin told her as he cut into a rotten eggplant.
You left the two quietly, making your way to the front door and ignoring the instructions Jimin gave the woman as she began to repeat the small chant he said.
You opened the shop door, stepping out, “Are you looking for someone?”
“Um… is this Scarlet&Sage? I’m looking for a Y/n.”
“That’s me,” you told him with furrowed brows, eyes widening as he practically shoved the bouquet of flowers into your hands and the gift box, asking you to sign before leaving. It took you a moment to process what happened before you headed back inside, just in time to watch Jimin finish the hex by helping the woman sew up the cut eggplant with candle wax and twine.
“You’ll want to leave this somewhere he can’t find it,” Jimin told her but you left before you could hear anything else.
You carried your things to the back room which was really just an extended shed of herbs and dried plants, Coal following close behind with curiosity as you opened up the small envelope inside.
‘Thank you for helping two strangers out so late in the night :) hopefully we’ll cross paths again
— Jeon Jungkook, Dumbledore’
The letter made you smile, a small blush forming on your cheeks when you pulled the lid off the box and gasped. Inside were two things, the first being a black hair clip with a pretty design on it and the second was a cat toy—Halloween themed. There was a sticky note on the plush skeleton fish that said, ‘For Cole’ on it that had you both sighing in disbelief.
Coal scratched at the note until it fell away from his new toy and ran away with it, surely to sulk at the misspelling of his name and pretend like he didn’t like the gift.
“Who’s the admirer?”
A light yell left your lips, nearly dropping the box as Jimin appeared at the doorway, “What admirer?”
“This one,” Jimin took the bouquet, examining it quickly with pursed lips, “Do tell me, Y/n, I am dying for the smallest sign of human interaction you might receive. I feel like you’ve become a recluse.”
“I have not,” you argued, letting him cut the tips of the stems, summoning over a vase with a wave of his hand that had it sliding across the wooden countertop to where he was, “I just… I do not have the time.”
“For?” Jimin asked setting the flowers up beautifully for you, “Oh whatever, just tell me who the flowers are from.”
“Nobody important,” you said almost shyly as your friend led the way back into the shop, ducking his head under twinkly lights and waving a finger to flip the sign back to ‘OPEN’, “The other night two men came in. They needed a phone and I let them use mine, that’s all.”
“Were they attractive?” Jimin asked with a raised brow, his instincts tingling at the hint of romance. Fleetwood Mac’s Dreams played in the background filling in the silence you left behind as you stopped to think about it.
The other night you met a dead hockey player and Dumbledore. Jungkook had been covered completely by old rags until the end when he took off the beard and even then the poor night lighting didn’t do well to make him attractive.
Still, part of you knew the two men would be considered popular just based on their looks.
“I think so,” you told him honestly, “It was hard to know, they were dressed up for a costume party.”
“You should have asked for their number,” Jimin said humorously, “Maybe then this god awful dryspell of yours would end.”
You rolled your eyes at his play on words before welcoming in a group of girls headed toward the crystals, “It’s not a dryspell and we both know it.”
“Oh, right,” Jimin rolled his eyes, “The curse. You give it too much power, sure there have been accidents in the past but those were all mere coincidence!”
“I’m sorry, but my first boyfriend losing a finger just a week after he fingered me for the first time doesn’t sound coincidental,” you half whispered and half shouted.
“It was a bowling accident!” Jimin laughed loudly.
“And what about the guy next door who used to help me water my plants before his house caught on fire?” You asked with a tilt of your hand that had him shrugging.
“Maybe he should’ve worried about the dry air in his own home before coming to yours,” Jimin joked.
“I’m serious, Jimin. Anyone who shows even the slightest interest in me gets hurt, and I mean literally not figuratively,” you said.
It was not a secret and your best friend knew it. Everyone who practiced the craft around here knew of the curse bestowed upon your family.
A curse on any man that dared love any woman in your family—you’ve seen it happen before and you’re not interested in hurting someone because of a centuries old curse you were born with.
Jimin had nothing to say now as he looked at the flowers with such curiosity he could practically picture the man who sent them.
Jeon Jungkook was special and everyone around him knew it. From his looks to his personality, there was not a single person unable to be charmed by him. It was a gift, really, just one smile or one look and he could practically get whatever he wants.
Of course, that’s not always a good thing, and that’s why he takes full blame for what happened last weekend. If he had known the girl who flirted with him had a boyfriend… he would have never hooked up with her in the bathroom. If they never hooked up then his things wouldn’t have been stolen and his tire wouldn’t have been slashed.
Sometimes he forgets that his actions have consequences and that night he learned how much of an asshole he really is to kiss a taken woman. The only good thing that came from it was the strange visit to an even stranger shop with an owner who blew his mind away.
He was beginning to think there’s something wrong with him. Why can’t he stop thinking about you? At first he thought it was out of guilt for bothering you that late so he had flowers delivered as a thank you but you still haven’t left his head. He’s nearly forgotten what you look like and he doesn’t like that.
“I can’t believe I got the promotion,” Hoseok said with a smirk as he plopped down on the chair next to Jungkook’s.
“You worked hard for it,” Jungkook reminded him.
“What if that little jar really did help?” Hoseok asked curiously, making Jungkook laugh suddenly and his brows furrowed, “I’m serious, Kook. I really thought they were gonna give it to the other guy.”
“Hobi, you worked your ass off for it,” Jungkook told him honestly, “Some stupid jar of cloves and cinnamon didn’t do it.”
That made his friend roll his eyes, “Whatever, I’m still stopping by the shop to offer my thanks—“
“You’re going back?” Jungkook asked, a look of interest in his eyes, an idea running rampant in his head at the thought.
There was a sudden urge to see you again running through his veins.
The shop felt surprisingly cozier during the day and it smelled of pomegranate and basil. A few customers shopped around, unable to help themselves from watching the two attractive men look every bit out of place as they felt while a man helped behind the counter.
Jimin popped his head over a jar of worms, eyes widening as he practically ran up the spiral steps in search of you. Your eyes were closed as you imagined a white light running over your body eliminating any piece of bad energy in sight. A set of silver headphones played lulling sounds of nature and the flicker of white candles helped lighten the dark room as you attempted to do your midday meditation. You sat with your legs crossed neatly and your floral skirt touched the ground even when your body floated in the air in concentration.
“Y/n!”
You’ve become one with your surroundings, you felt the energy coursing through you with each deep inhale and exhale you let out and your body became weightless, unable to think of anything but absolute clarity.
“Y/n!”
The sudden yank on your headphones caused you to snap out of the trance, falling to the ground with a hard thud that had you hissing in pain, “Ow!”
“He’s here!” Jimin said, snapping the candles off while helping you untangle your headphones.
“Who?” You asked, wrapping your loose cardigan tighter around your torso.
“The one who delivered the flowers,” Jimin said urgently as he took your hand in his and practically rushed you downstairs. You didn’t even get a chance to put your shoes back on and you had to hold the end of your matcha green skirt up to keep from dragging across the floorboards.
“How do you kno—“
“Instincts,” Jimin said, wiggling his nose, “I can just tell.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him as you joined him downstairs, not fully believing he knew who he was talking about until you saw it with your own eyes. Hoseok was much more familiar to you than the other considering his costume still looked like him but Jungkook was the one who caught your attention. He ditched the gray robes for black jeans and a white shirt under a black and white leather jacket. His hair was sleek and he had facial piercings you didn’t remember seeing last time but he looked good…
“Y/n! I got the promotion!” Hoseok said cheerfully, taking your focus for himself. You smiled sweetly, “Really? That’s wonderful.”
Jungkook found himself speechless when he saw you appearing from behind the celestial tapestry. He can’t explain it but you looked utterly beautiful. The crystal suncatcher he had seen the other night proved its purpose today by reflecting a soft rainbow on your complexion and he found it hypnotizing.
“Did you receive my flowers?” He found himself asking, damn near stuttering. Today you wore a matcha green floral skirt and a cream colored cardigan matched with some crystals around your neck. It didn’t sneak past him the fact that you were barefoot but it seemed to fit you either way.
“I did, they smelled wonderful,” you said joyously, “But…”
His lips parted with worry, ready to ask what happened when a deep meow took his attention. Your black cat curled around your skirt practically begging to be picked up and you did just that, cuddling the feline against your chest, “Coal is a bit bothered by the gift.”
Jungkook was left confused, watching the cat who seemed to be glaring at him, “Cole is?”
“Yeah, you see, you spelled his name wrong,” you said with a sigh, “His name is coal like the carbonized rock, not a man’s name.”
“Oh?” Jungkook tilted his head, “Oh. Coal, black as coal?”
“It’s because he’s a black cat,” Hoseok said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world to name your cat after a fire starter.
“Well, maybe he could appreciate the effort?” Jungkook asked, trying not to think of how ridiculous he sounded practically begging the feeling for forgiveness.
“He’s a bit of a grudge holder but maybe he’ll come around,” you said with a distressed sigh, staring off into the distance seeming like your mind was miles away. Hoseok had lost interest in the conversation as he began to skim through a book about runes while your coworker slash best friend pretended not to eavesdrop behind the counter. Jungkook watched you curiously as you focused on a group of teenage girls nosing through the incense sticks.
“Whatever you said to Hobi seemed to work the other day, he aced the interview,” Jungkook said, feeling the need to try and talk to you still. There’s just something about you.
Your entire essence felt whimsical and he wishes he could pinpoint what has his heart beating so fast but he can’t.
“It was the spell,” you told him with a smile, letting it fade when he scoffed in disbelief.
“No, seriously.”
“I am being serious,” your eyes narrowed, “We put a lot of effort into it.”
Jungkook would love to argue about magic and spells not being real but it was very clear this was not the place to do it—especially not when he can hear the guy behind the counter offer a potion to someone. He seemed like a con artist and yet you worked with him, did that make you one too? When he looked at you, he could easily assume you were dressed up for Halloween, it was October and some people go all out for the month. That could be you…
Or you could be playing a part for the store, doing whatever you could to get the sales going even if it meant packaging herbs in mason jars and calling it a spell.
The look you were giving him made it obvious that you were beginning to question his intentions too and he felt the need to backtrack even if his instincts were telling him not to, “Well uh, whatever you um… did worked.”
You flashed him a pretty smile, already losing interest in him as you turned around to see who was in the store. He couldn’t help but try and follow after you in hopes of keeping your attention on him but when he took a step, he nearly tripped and had to grab you for support. The two of you looked down, a small laugh bubbling in your throat, “Coal! You do not play tricks on people just because you’re mad.”
The cat meowed in response as you suddenly dropped to your knees before him, his heart racing at the action until you began to untie his shoelaces which had been knotted together so he would trip when he took a step. Jungkook laughed nervously, “I don’t remember doing that.”
“It was Coal,” you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “If anyone knows how to hold a grudge it’s that cat. Coal, say sorry.”
As if the cat understood what you said, he meowed as he ran off, making sure to hit Jungkook’s leg with his tail. He shook his head in disbelief at the way Coal responded so human-like, wondering if his dog acted this way too at times but he didn’t. Bam was always sweet and energetic, not a grudge holder or trickster like the feline. With a sigh he tried moving on, looking around for you only for you to be going behind a curtain toward a greenhouse. Jungkook didn’t hesitate to follow you, not caring about the sign that said no customers and searching for you.
“So, Y/n, I was wondering if you were busy tomorrow,” Jungkook said suddenly, “I was thinking we can get dinner as a thank you for the other night.”
“Oh,” you came to a stop, staring at a basket of molasses and shook your head, “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Jungkook was left speechless, unsure what to say as you once again seemed to disappear before his very own eyes, leaving him to look around confused and alone. He had no choice but to head back to the main store where he found you tying a string around Hoseok’s wrist. How did you move so quickly?
You mumbled something to his friend that he couldn’t quite hear and he’ll admit it made him a bit jealous. It’s not that he had strong feelings for you but here he is fighting plowing after that y only for you to wander off away from him. Was something wrong with him? Were you more interested in Hoseok? Jungkook had never struggled to keep a girl’s attention and yet it feels like your mind is everywhere else but him. Sure, you might be different from his usual type but did that mean he was different from yours? What kind of guy is your type anyway?
Someone with glasses who likes astrology?
“Jungkook,” you called for him rather softly and yet he went to you as if on command. You held up a string necklace with some sort of rock or marble on it and he didn’t hesitate to lean down so you could put it on him. It was a blue marble with a white circle and a black dot inside the circle.
“What is this?” He asked, swallowing dryly when your hands brushed against his neck.
“It has many names depending on where you’re from but, it’s an evil eye. It helps protect you from misfortune and anyone who wishes ill intent toward you,” you told him, making sure the bead sat perfectly between his collarbone, “I figured after the night you got your things stolen, it was better to stay protected.”
“Is there anything that would protect me against him, Y/n?” Hoseok joked, joining the two of you now, “If anyone brings me bad luck it’s Jungkook considering he’s the reason everyone’s always out to get us.”
He turned to Hoseok ready to tell him to shut up but his friend always struggled to read the room. Hoseok just laughed like he was telling the funniest joke, “Don’t look at me like that, it’s true. Who’s the one who made out with a girl who’s already taken?”
“I didn’t know,” Jungkook said and despite it being the truth, everyone looked at him differently now.
“So you’re one of those guys,” the man behind the counter said with a mischievous smirk that had Jungkook turning around to look at him. “One of what guys?”
“The ones I hex—“
“So!” You cut Jimin off suddenly, standing directly in front of Jungkook now, chest nearly touching his that his breath caught in his throat, “What are your plans for the night? Are we taking too much of your time? I’m sure it was a long drive out.”
“Is this a subtle way of saying it’s about time we leave?” Jungkook asked with an amused smile, a bit taken back by how flustered you seem to be. There was something charming about you, a complete stranger, and it keeps drawing him in. He finds you physically attractive in a way he’s never found anyone like before. He thinks you dress differently, you present yourself differently, you remind him of a fairy or some mythological creature—just enchanting… and it makes him feel ridiculous.
Why does he feel this way toward you?
“I—That’s not h-how I meant it,” you shook your head, blush running through your cheeks, “I just assumed you probably had more important things to do.”
“And what if I said this was the important thing for today?” He asked with a tilt of his head, not caring much for his friend who was busy looking at all the crystals or the guy behind the counter who pretended not to listen, “Talking to you.”
This time around he raised a smile from you, “It would be flattering, but I know it’s not.”
He smiled, “What if it was?”
You didn’t hesitate to look into his eyes despite the way he seemed to close the distance between you like you were the only two in the shop, “It’s not.”
“Why don’t you think so?” He asked, attempting to rest his arm on the counter only for him to hit Coal instead, awkwardly jumping back and watching you smile with amusement.
“Because it would be so sad to hold a mere occurrence with me, a complete stranger, with such high importance.” The tone you said it in sounded cute, like you were genuinely pitying him for living such a boring life even if that wasn’t the case.
It took Jungkook a second to process your response and he couldn’t go any further. It was very clear you didn’t want him around anymore and you already rejected his proposal to go out. He did not want to seem like a pushy person and he has to just accept that you’re simply not interested. Does it make sense to him? No. He’s a catch, every girl tends to want him—but he won’t push any further.
He swears.
“I guess we’ll get going then and let you get back to work,” Jungkook couldn’t help but look back down at your patterned skirt or pretty neck adorned with handmade jewelry, “Maybe next time I’ll buy something.”
“Next time?” You asked as he grabbed the back of Hoseok’s shirt, dragging him behind toward the front door. Jungkook smirked, “Yeah! I mean… this can’t possibly be the end, right?”
“Well, I didn’t think anything here would pique your interest,” you said looking around at the dangling gold stars and the hanging tapestries stuck to the ceiling.
“On the contrary,” he practically mimicked your form of speech as he shoved Hobi out the door, “My interest has been piqued. I’ll see you around?”
You wrapped your cardigan around yourself more snugly, feet finally growing cold under the flooring and appearing more flustered, “I guess so.”
He smiled, waving goodbye as he fought off Hoseok who nearly jumped over him to bid his own farewell.
“Oh, he’s smitten,” Jimin laughed the second the door shut with the chime of the bell above it. It made you roll your eyes almost instantly, “He’ll get over it. He seems like a flirt.”
“Mhm, and he’s flirting with you,” Jimin said, watching you with amusement, “Whatever shall you do?”
“What I always do,” you told him matter-of-factly, “Ignore.”
Jimin looked down at the book of moon magic before him, pretending to skim through it, “Like you always do? And how’s that working out for your love life.”
“Listen to yourself, you love witch,” you said with a groan, lifting a finger to slide the book away from him without touching it, “He’s a stranger.”
“Don’t they always start out that way?” Invincible hands opened the book for him as it slid across the counter till it was directly in front of him again and he resumed to read.
Jimin shrugged, “I’m just saying. It wouldn’t kill you to open up to someone.”
“It would probably kill them.”
“Yeah, but there are plenty of fish in the sea and way too many men in the world.”
The sky was a shade between blue and gray, and every now and then he could feel a rare drop of water fall on him as it threatened to sprinkle. The autumn leaves crunched under his thick shoes as he crossed the lawn of the courtyard on his way to his next class—running behind only a little.
You would think being in his last semester of schooling would make him have his shit together but it really only seems to make his life a bigger mess than before. It’s like it hasn’t clicked in his mind yet how close he is to the end and he still wants to spend his weekends getting drunk at parties and showing up to Monday morning lectures way too late.
“Jungkook!”
To be honest, he doesn’t ever want to admit it but his life is a hot mess. He’s all over the place—all the time. He gets into bad situations with girls and he does awful in school. He’s not that great at work and he struggles to focus on anything but he doesn’t know what to do.
The night of the party was a bit of a wake up call to him. Obviously he hadn’t changed yet but… he got his shit stolen and his car broke down in the same night. That’s enough drama to get a man thinking about his life choices. He needs to make changes but he doesn’t know how. How does he give up the parties and the drinking so he could take things more seriously?
“Jungkook!”
“Huh?” He slipped an AirPod out of his ear as he turned around in search of who called for him. About a foot or so away from him stood a girl, short blonde hair, painted red lips and Chanel jewelry on. She was the sort of attractive that anyone walking past might turn and stare but he just seemed to tilt his head with curiosity.
“We met at the club a few weeks ago, remember?” She asked, looking up at him with flirty eyes, “You bought me a drink?”
“I did?” Jungkook asked, letting his eyes trail down her head to her body and so on, “What’s up?”
“Oh, uh, I was wondering if you were busy today? I’ve seen you around campus and I still owe you for the drink so how about some coffee?” She asked running her fingers through her hair.
“I’m good but thanks,” Jungkook said, already attempting to walk away. He’s late for his lecture and he’s sure the professor won’t bother opening the door for him so he’s better off going to the library until his next class. He’s got two more lectures and then he’ll work tonight so there’s no time to go out with a girl he doesn’t even remember the name of.
“Wait! I just… yknow. I just want to say thank you for the drink,” she follows after him, “One cup won’t hurt anyone, right?”
He looked back down at her with a sigh. She really was cute and his usual type but he’s not interested. Sure he has about two hours before his next lecture but does he really want to waste that time on some girl he met while drunk [that he most likely only approached because he wanted to hook up with her?].
“Alright, can I pick the place?” Jungkook asked suddenly, watching the girls eyes widen happily as she eagerly nodded her head.
Jungkook had no idea why he agreed or where he even planned on taking her, he just knew it was a bit far but familiar—to him, at least.
He didn’t give her much room to come up with anything either before they were catching a bus to the other side of town where the buildings looked older and more fit for the fall season with the dead leaves and puddles in the dark pavement. Scarlet&Sage looked surprisingly busy today with customers going in and out without stop.
He only knew this because the coffee shop he was currently at was right across the street from it. Please do not ask him how this came about… he’s not sure. He just remembers seeing the cafè the last time he came over here and when the blonde girl asked for coffee it was the first place that came to mind. It had absolutely nothing to do with the whimsical character he’s encountered in the small shop of wonders.
“So, do you like the coffee here?” The blonde asked as they sat at a small round table near the large window that gave him the perfect view of the outside.
“It’s alright,” Jungkook mumbled, looking down at his cup wondering what you might be doing.
It’s not that he was weirdly obsessed or anything. He was just mildly interested.
Mildly.
His attention should be on the blonde but he couldn’t even remember her name and he was too embarrassed to ask. He talks to a lot of girls like her… he’s hooked up with a lot of girls like her and sometimes they all start to blend and he just can’t pick them apart. As stated, the blonde is hot, he’s not going to deny that and clearly he had approached her at some club for that reason but right now she just seems so bland.
It’s become a bit of a problem of his and he’s beginning to notice it. Jungkook did not consider himself a player by any means but he would be lying if he said he didn’t date a lot of girls. That’s why right now that he’s with some random girl who invited him to coffee, he couldn’t really think of her. He only agreed as an excuse to come to this side of town in hopes of stopping by the shop but now he’s stuck here with a stranger while you’re across the street doing who knows what.
The shop had been busy at open but once the rush had gone, things had visibly slowed down for the two witches. Jimin was bored to death, arguing with Coal over the dumbest of things and you tried busying yourself with useless flicks of your finger to turn on and off all the candles on the counter. Crystals by Stevie Nicks played from a small boombox tucked into a bookshelf and the cold autumn day dragged by too slow for your liking.
It’s not that you expect an exciting day on the regular but ever since you met those two strangers one October night, you couldn’t help but wonder if you would have more occurrences like that. When Jungkook sent the gift and flowers it was a nice surprise that brightened your day and when he and Hoseok popped in a few days later… well that also brought a sense of warmth. It couldn’t possibly be because you were interested in seeing Jungkook again despite how obviously handsome he was.
You do not allow yourself to fall in love or even gain a small crush toward anyone when you know the repercussions. Jimin could mock you for it all he wants but the curse has proven to be true time and time in your line of witches and you do not want anyone to fall victim to it because you foolishly allowed yourself to like someone.
Sure, deep down you’re a romantic but aren’t most people? Don’t most people wish to meet that one person that makes their heart race or their smile widen? Someone they find comfort in without even realizing it at first but once you do you don’t ever want to leave their arms? Isn’t that what everyone wishes even when they don’t know it? Even the most anti-romantic individual must at some point crave the intimacy that comes with finding the one they love.
It’s inevitable to feel this way but you can’t act upon any feelings you might have toward someone—you shouldn’t, and therefore you remain single despite something inside you wishing to change that. It’s for the best, honestly and maybe if you wish strong enough… you’ll never have to see Jungkook again because despite not knowing him at all… you can’t help but think about him.
“Y/n, I have a favor to ask,” Jimin said with a sigh as he joined you at the counter, “And there was nobody else I could think to ask this of aside from my most beautiful celestially whimsical best friend.”
The corners of your lips curved upward, rolling your eyes playfully as you waited for him to go on and just say it. His eyes met yours and with an adorable pout he asked, “Do you mind running to the post office for me? I’ve got a palm reading appointment in ten.”
“Oh, I suppose I could make a quick run,” you told him with a dramatic sigh, fighting back a smile when he squeezed your face in his hands. “I absolutely adore you, you beautiful witch.”
Jimin left to retrieve two white envelopes he needed you to drop off and you took them happily, heading to the door when you turned back to look at him, “Remind how amazing I am for doing the smallest of tasks for you.”
“Undeniably amazing.”
The coffee at the cafe was not memorable at all, in fact, Jungkook doesn’t know if he would ever come back again but deep down he knows he will, even if it’s just an excuse to stare at Scarlet&Sage. He’s ashamed to admit he couldn’t even pretend to act interested in what the blonde said and at some point she must’ve realized that because they sat together in silence. Her eyes wandered around the cafe while his focused on the brick storefront of your shop, wondering if he should stop by and say hello or not.
When the door seemed to open from the inside, he could physically feel his heart race and soon enough… you were there standing in a dark blue velvet slip dress with brown leather boots and golden star clips in your hair, shivering slightly with the cold and he acted before he could think.
“I’ll be right back,” Jungkook said abruptly, raising to his feet, not bothering to even look back at the blonde when she called his name and left the shop with all his things.
“Y/n!”
You read the sending addresses on the envelopes, smiling when you realized Jimin was sending this to a good friend of yours. At first, you didn’t hear the call of your name. If anything made you stop, it was the sudden howl of wind that had a stream of fallen leaves circling around you, following the sight of them until you turned back to find the one person you had been thinking about standing there before you.
“Jungkook?” You couldn’t hide the look of pleasant surprise on your face as you gave him a moment to catch up to you, “Did you trim your hair?”
That made him pause for a moment as he ran his fingers through the short black hair, shy smile on his face, “I did. Does it look bad?”
He didn’t ask where you were going when he began to walk alongside you. You shook your head, “I like it. It suits you, but I’m sure everything does, Dumbledore.”
“Will you ever let that go?” He asked slightly embarrassed by the worst night of his life and how strangely it was the reason the two of you met.
“Oh, of course,” you said, unable to catch the playful tone in his voice, “I’m sorry.”
“No, I didn—you didn—I just meant…” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “Um… so what are you doing?”
“I’m running an errand for Jimin,” you told him casually, turning the corner of the block with him at your side, “And what about you?”
“I wanted to try the coffee place across the street from you. I missed a class today and had time so…” Jungkook bit his lip wondering what more to say.
“The coffee is not good,” you said and he smiled. “It isn’t.”
“So… Y/n, I know last time you said it wasn’t a good idea but… I don’t know, I was wondering if maybe we could still try and get dinner. I don’t mean to push bu—“
“Why?” You asked suddenly, big sparkly eyes staring at him that he felt his breath hitch when the two of you stopped in front of the post office. He had to blink away the shock a few times before he was able to snap back into reality. Jungkook reached for the door, hearing the sound of bells above as he let you brush past him and head inside.
Why? What did you mean why? Did you find it strange that he wanted to go out with you? Did you think he had no valid reason to seek you out? Did he?
You left his side to drop the envelopes down the shoot before returning to him with a soft hum, singing some indie song in your head, thanking him when he held the door open for you again.
“I wish I could give you a million reasons as to why but I can’t,” Jungkook told you honestly, watching the way you seemed to shiver in the cold again. You forgot a cardigan or shawl and were sincerely regretting it now. He didn’t hesitate to take off his crewneck, offering it to you despite the cold biting his skin now and he finished his thoughts, “I only have one, Y/n and I think it’s fairly simple. I want to get to know you because I find you beautiful and interesting and you make me curious.”
“A lot of people are beautiful and interesting,” you tried to brush him off despite the sudden warmth running through your veins as you became overwhelmed by the lingering scent of his cologne on the sweater.
“But not like you,” he said and he surprised himself. When has he ever called someone beautiful and mean it? Another rustle of wind carried dead leaves in the air, this time circling around the two of you and you couldn’t help but watch one get caught in his hair.
“I don’t get you,” you admitted, walking a bit faster toward the shop now, “We’re practically strangers still and I’ve said no once so… yknow… I mean… wouldn’t you have other girls to try? Probably prettier ones and more outgoing so really there’s no need to try and go out with me when I’m sure you have better options out there with people you’re much closer to.”
Jungkook scoffed, a small smirk on his face, “I didn't think there was anything to get. I… well… yes, I do know others who I could ask but I’m not interested in any of them, only you.”
Was it that obvious that he had become a bit of a player? A romantic who jumped into relationships or flings for the adrenaline they brought? Could you read that on his face? With the way you turned to look into his eyes, he wondered if that really was the case.
You shouldn’t involve yourself with him.
It’ll only complicate things.
He seems to be a flirt, he could get anyone he wants so why is he stuck on you?
You’re already a bit interested in him too and that’s dangerous but when you look at his neck and see the necklace you gave him, you felt happy—not good.
“I’m a witch.”
Jungkook chuckled suddenly, unable to tell if you were trying to change the mood or scare him off, “Good thing it’s October and it’s the Season of the Witch.”
He doesn’t believe you, obviously—or well, not to the extent that you mean. It’s not a secret you like the craft but he doesn’t expect you to have a flying broomstick lying around.
“It’s the truth, Jungkook,” you told him as you neared the shop, “And that means I’m not good for you.”
“Why? Because you have a black cat and love crystals?” Jungkook joked lightheartedly.
“No. Because I have a curse to those who like me and it could really put them in danger,” you said and for a second he seemed to falter… genuinely wondering if you were being serious or not. He doesn’t believe in magic or curses like you’ve convinced Hobi to but it was an odd thing to say… maybe.
Maybe it wasn’t odd at all considering your lifestyle choice but…
But…
No.
You can’t just suddenly tell him that and expect him to believe it. It’s one thing to be fascinated by it all and open a store about it and actually—
Magic isn’t real.
Curses aren’t real.
“So you reject me because of a curse?” He asked, studying you closely to see how he would react. You didn’t reject him because you were uninterested, but because you believe you’re cursed? He knew you were a bit odd when he first met you but to this extent? And to know it hadn’t scared him back to the blonde who was surely already visiting Jimin to hex him. “And not because you want nothing to do with me?”
You bit your lip, “It’s complicated.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” he said, “Y/n, curses only have power if you believe in them and I don’t.”
Your eyes widened, unsure if you should be offended by his utter blindness to the magical or amazed by his clear mindset. What were you going on about? Did you expect him to run away when you said? Had you hoped he would? Would that have made it easier to not think about him? Maybe he just doesn’t fully believe you yet. Magic is a hard thing for everyone to accept.
People don’t want to believe what they can’t see.
“I should head inside now,” you told him quietly and you could visibly see the way he dejected, with his shoulders drooping, “And there’s something sticking out of your pocket.”
Jungkook barely had a second to process what you said before you were leaving him alone outside with his eyebrows furrowed as he felt around his black jeans with confusion.
His gaze softened with curiosity as he pulled out a piece of folded parchment paper from his pocket and opened it hurriedly.
‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you but here’s my number. xxx-xxx-xxxx — Y/n ☽’
Despite the utter confusion he felt on how you managed to put this note in his pocket, he felt more happy to know you’re opening yourself to him. He could worry about the strangeness of this later when it doesn’t feel like he’s on cloud 9 from simply getting a girls number.
“Jungkook!”
He bit the insides of his cheeks to hide a growing smile as he stuffed the paper back in his pocket, looking up with surprise as the blonde came up to him, “What happened? You suddenly left with some weirdo an—“
“I’m not interested,” Jungkook rushed out, “I’m so sorry, I seriously am but I can’t even remember your name and I’ve been too embarrassed to ask. You seem very nice and I’m sure I would’ve loved to get to know you but… but I want to pursue something with someone else. She’s a witch, apparently, which I find it hard to believe but she’s given me this note and I have no idea when she managed to give it to me without me knowing but it’s all so interesting and I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before over something so sm—“
“Asshole,” the girl gave him a small shove, cutting off his rant and stormed away from him. He watched her go with a bit of pity because she was right. He was an asshole… for taking her invitation and using it to meet you. For leading other girls on and leaving them when he was bored. For wasting their time and he swears he does feel awful now.
He wants to be different and he’s wondering if his racing heart for you would be the start.
Even with the shove the blonde had given him, he couldn’t help but smile and pull out the paper again to read over the note as many times as necessary just to remember today.
And so it began despite the countless amount of times you told yourself not to fall for anyone. It was hard when he was texting you as often as he could.
jungkook: I still want to kno how u got the note in my pocket
y/n: with magic, silly
jungkook: like a magician’s?
y/n: no :/
y/n: like a witch’s.
jungkook: …
jungkook: why are u so cute
y/n: glamour magic?
“Who’s got you smiling like that?” Jungkook’s friend asked one day as they met up at the campus library. He looked up at Taehyung who sat down across from him on some comfortable lounge chairs, already getting his laptop out.
“Her name’s Y/n,” Jungkook sat up, “She’s a bit strange and unusual—but in a good way!”
Taehyung’s brows furrowed, “Cool, I guess. Anyway, are you coming this weekend?”
“Where to?” He asked, biting his lip as he thought of what to say back.
jungkook: or maybe that’s just how u are
y/n: maybe ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა but I’m dangerous
“Joon’s Halloween party,” Taehyung said, watching his friend smile before quickly typing.
jungkook: right…
jungkook: bc of the curse?
y/n: yeah
jungkook: nothing has happened to me yet
“Who?” Jungkook asked absentmindedly as he looked up for a mere second.
“Who?! Boy, don’t play with me. Namjoon. Kim Namjoon, big meaty buff Namjoon, our friend?” Taehyung scoffed with a laugh. Jungkook chuckled, “Oh right. Um… maybe.”
y/n: that’s bc we haven’t gone out
jungkook: so let’s change that and test the theory
jungkook: what r u doing tonight?
“I’ve invited some girls to meet us there, super hot, trust me you’ll like em,” Taehyung said despite how obvious Jungkook’s interest in you seemed. He had literally just brought you up and yet Taehyung didn’t seem to think that was going to stop Jungkook from wanting to meet other girls.
“Yeah…” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, leg bouncing anxiously as he waited for you to answer, “I’m not really interested.”
Taehyung audibly laughed, not believing his friend as he opened his laptop to do some work. Jungkook narrowed his eyes at him, “I’m serious. I’m talking to someone right now.”
“I mean… are you bringing her this weekend?” Taehyung asked, making Jungkook shrug his shoulders. “I’m not sure Y/n would want to go.”
y/n: it’s a full moon tonight
y/n: but I’m free
jungkook: want to go out for dinner?
y/n: okay ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১
The smile that grew on his face from your text nearly slipped when Taehyung spoke up, “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Come on man, it’s not like you’re dating anyone and if so when has that ever stopped you from a good time?”
“I’m not saying I won’t go, but I’m saying I don’t want to talk to any other girls, man,” Jungkook said with a sigh as he checked the time on his screen, “Alright, I’ve got to get ready.”
“Why? You don’t work till later, right?” Taehyung asked while watching his friend gather his things to leave. Jungkook nodded, “Yeah but I’ve got plans after so I have to get ready now. I’ll see you this weekend?”
Taehyung gave up on his friend and waved him off with a dismissed goodbye.
“A date?!” Jimin nearly yelled into your ear as the two of you watered the plants in the greenhouse, “You have a date tonight?!”
“No,” you shook your head, “It's not like that… Jungkook and I are just getting dinner.”
“As a date,” Jimin said with a roll of his eyes, “There’s no point denying it, Y/n. I will admit he’s not the type I thought you would go for but I support it fully if it means you’ll finally let someone in.”
“Why are you being so dramatic?” You asked, “I’m… I only agreed to dinner because he asked and I didn’t want to reject him again. Once he’s gotten. What he wants I’m sure he’ll move on to the next.”
“Y/n,” Jimin’s tone was stronger than usual, “I don’t believe that. Even if Jungkook seems to be the type… he can clearly tell there’s something about you that makes things worthwhile. Stop doubting it and just allow yourself to go out with someone.”
Just as you were about to try and brush this off with an excuse that you had to leave, Coal came prancing in holding the small skeleton fish Jungkook bought for him and set it before you to play.
When Jungkook arrived in front of the shop, he’s not sure what he expected. You looked as pretty as usual in a brown floral maxi dress and a thin lace cardigan and shimmer in your hair. You always looked pretty to him, natural and whimsical, ethereal. He’s not sure why he feels this way but he does and he likes the feeling.
“Hi,” Jungkook felt breathless as he held the car door open for you, unsure why he felt nervous at all. He’s been on hundreds of dinner dates, this was nothing new for him so why were his hands growing clammy?
“You’re nervous?” You asked, finger brushing against the front of his white shirt. A smile came to his face, “Maybe.”
“Why?” You asked even as your own heart raced with nerves.
“Honestly…” Jungkook bit his lip, waiting at your door, “I don’t know, you make me nervous.”
“Is that good or bad?” You asked.
“Good, I think,” Jungkook smiled as he shut the car door and rounded to his side.
He had no reason to be nervous, really, Jungkook was into you and he had a feeling you were into him too. Why else would you have agreed? Yes, you’re a bit strange and he still doesn’t understand what you mean by curse or how you got the note in his pocket but that doesn’t scare him. Why doesn’t that scare him?
Why did he suddenly feel like dinner wasn’t enough? He always had dinner dates. It was always his go-to first date idea.
You stared out the window as he started the car, completely unaware of his growing panic at the realization. You were more focused on the glowing moon than him and yet the silence in the car didn’t bother him. Usually, whoever he was with would talk his ear off but you were quiet right now. Were you growing bored of him before you gave him a chance to open himself up to you? Would you think the dinner reservation he set for tonight would be too cliché? You don’t seem like a 5-star restaurant date. You don’t seem like the type to care and yet he blindly set the date up in the same manner he did every other girl he went out with.
The thought alone was making him antsy and it was hard to miss the way his finger tapped against the steering wheel as he drove off.
“So, what restaurant are we going to?” You asked in a gentle voice, in hopes that maybe he wouldn’t seem so quiet. The question made him bite his lip, playing with his lip ring as his brows furrowed in thought, “I—um…”
His hands were clammy.
You blinked away your confusion, eyes dropping down to your lap as you asked, “Do you not want to do this anymore?”
“No! I mean… I—I want to but uh,” Jungkook stopped at a red light, “I um…”
How does he tell you what he had planned tonight was the same thing he always did whenever he went on a date with a random girl?
How does he tell you that’s not what he wants for you?
“It’s a full moon tonight?” Jungkook asked suddenly, staring out his tinted windshield. You merely nodded your head silently.
“Change of plans then,” he mumbled to himself, turning on his blinker and when the light turned green he took a completely different route from that of the restaurant. You wanted to question him, wondering if he was taking you back home but after a while the city lights grew fewer and fewer and the hills got bigger and bigger.
Jungkook drove a short distance out of the city where large meadows began to cover fields and fields of hills. He pulled the car to the side of the road and without question he got out, opening the trunk first and you grew worried.
“Is this the plot twist? You drive me out of the city to plan my murder?” You jokingly asked as you got out of the car and joined his side. He rummaged through paper bags pulling out water bottles and small snack bags he must’ve bought a while ago. He grabbed an old blanket he tossed back there after crashing at Namjoon’s place and asked you to walk with him.
“No, it’s just,” Jungkook took a deep breath, trudging through the thick grass in the dark night with only the full moon and stars eliminating his way, “I want to do things differently with you. I wanted to get dinner, yes, but… but it’s a full moon, Y/n. Do you really want to spend your night indoors where you can’t even see it?”
He thought back to the star clips in your hair that shimmered like the sparkles in your eyes. The way you seemed to love the spirituality of life and he didn’t even have to know you well enough to know how in tune you are with nature. One look at you told him everything he needed to know and despite the cold autumn night… he knew you preferred it over wherever he planned on taking you.
“I…” you bit your lip nervously, following after him into the clear meadow surrounded by hills and a single road where the car had been parked, “I’m sorry but I don’t understand.”
“Y/n,” Jungkook stopped to look at you, “I don't know how to explain it but you feel different to me. Since the first night we met, all I could think about was you and I don’t want to ruin the first chance you’ve given me to get to know you by doing the same thing I do every time. I want to do something that would be fun, maybe, different and more to your liking. I want to know why you brought up the moon tonight or why you talk about curses and glamours and why you enjoy the smell of incense. I want to know how the note got in my pocket and how you seem to communicate with Coal like you could truly understand him. The strangeness of it all fascinates me and sitting in a stuffy restaurant eating subpar food won’t tell me anything about you besides that you let me take you on a boring date.”
“You’re a bit strange,” you confessed, a smile growing on your face as small fireflies fill the meadow, “But I like it.”
Jungkook extended the blanket on the ground, throwing the things onto it before collapsing on his side waiting for you to join him. You sat down tucking your dress under your legs and moved to lay on your back, the sound of crickets somewhere off in the distance as you stared up at the sky.
Usually, Jungkook picked the noisiest of places possible so that he wouldn’t have to have his full attention on whoever he was dining with. If the conversation got boring he could always find somewhere else to focus before he would finally just invite him to his bed. Right now he’s got nowhere else to look aside from the night sky and you.
“Do you meditate?” You asked.
“No,” Jungkook said, turning on his back with an arm tucked under his head and the other on the blanket, “But I can try.”
“Okay, take even breaths and try to clear your mind,” you told him as you let your eyes close for a moment, “The full moon is a time to let go and welcome new energy in your life by reflecting on what you need to release.”
Jungkook didn’t say anything as he tried to listen to you, tried to visualize what he would like to let go. What did he need to reflect on?
Was it his grades? His shitty part time job at the convenience store? His past mistakes in relationships?
“Listen to the sounds around you, let them help you find inner peace,” you whispered with the wind catching his breath, small sounds of nature here and there, “Visualize your dreams, your reflections. Find your release.”
It’s his last semester of school and yet he misses class when he’s late. He agrees to go out with girls he has no real intention of getting to know and he puts himself in messy situations that drag his friends along too.
He’s tired of acting the same way he did when he was younger—never took responsibility and was always careless in his actions. Even the other when he went out with the blonde but not because he wanted her, but because he could use her as an excuse to himself to come seek you out. He disregarded her feelings.
When Taehyung approached him about the girls he wanted Jungkook to meet, he expect Jungkook to lie about seeing them even when he was interested in you because that’s what Jungkook usually did.
How does he change his ways?
Tonight he wants to release his toxic patterns.
He wants to embrace change and welcome the shift of energy you brought him. He wants to form deeper connections with those around him and open himself up to new possibilities, no matter how strange.
“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice came out raspy as his hand felt around the blanket blindly until your fingers brushed against his and he was going to hold onto them, “How do you do it?”
“Do what?” You asked him, letting him hold your hand, ignoring the sudden tingle up your arm. His eyes opened, “How do you make me want to find comfort in you when you’re essentially still a stranger to me?”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” you said.
“Tell me about the curse,” Jungkook couldn’t believe he was saying it. It was one thing to go along with the joke over text but now that he’s lying here with you, he’s curious.
“Really?” You asked looking at him, watching him nod his head making you sigh, “Why? You don’t believe in it anyway.”
“But you do,” he said truthfully, “And I want to see what makes you believe in i—“
His words slowed down as he watched a butterfly land on your fingertip as if you called for it yourself. He’s not sure if it meant anything or if it was just the utter fascination he had of you but he wanted to kiss you. It had nothing to do with getting you in his bed tonight and everything to do with just feeling you and when he raised his finger to touch yours, he took your hand and pulled you toward him.
You didn’t pull back like he thought you might, and before he could really process it, you were leaning into him. Jungkook placed a hand on your jaw, guiding your lips to his until finally, the softest touch made his insides melt. You kissed him gently, scared almost and his face fit perfectly between your hands as he hovered over you, eyes closed and warm to the touch.
Jungkook felt as if something burst inside him and he just wanted to chase that feeling with your kisses, unable to help himself from getting lost in the moment. He felt a bit numb to his surroundings, the only feeling he had was your lips on his and your tongue running along his with need. His breath was becoming short and the soft push of your hand on his shoulder had him pulling back reluctantly.
“You’re a good kisser,” you whispered against his lips and he couldn’t help but break into a smile, pecking your lips one last time before letting his head drop against your chest.
“It’s late,” he said with a small sigh as he looked up at you, finding your eyes stuck on the full moon.
You looked down at him and he could practically see the way you glowed underneath him.
He didn’t believe in magic or witches but, how else would he explain this feeling of being under a love spell?
And if he allowed himself to believe in love spells then did he have to believe in curses too?
“Now what do you mean you’re not coming tonight?” His friend asked, sporting Jungkook as he did a set of bench presses.
“I don’t know if I’ll make it,” Jungkook answered, counting how many he did, “I’ve got plans with Y/n.”
“And what? She won’t let you out for one night?” Namjoon asked with a slight roll of his eyes as Jungkook set the bar back in place and sat up with deep breaths, “She can’t come with us?”
“It’s not like that,” he shook his head no, “I haven’t even mentioned it to her.”
Namjoon couldn’t help but scoff as he took Jungkook’s place, “Why not? Would she be mad if you told her that you were going out with friends, for fucks sake?”
“What? No, No, Y/n’s not like that,” Jungkook was getting annoyed with his friend’s assumptions, “But I already talked about this with Taehyung. I’m not interested in partying right now or anything. I just wanna… yknow, chill?”
“You don’t even sound like yourself,” Namjoon said with a laugh, deciding to not push any further, “But whatever, I get it.”
“Get what?” Jungkook watched him move the bar to begin his set.
“You’re talking to someone,” Namjoon said with baited breath, “You've gotta be on your best behavior.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes, “It’s not like I’m holding myself back. If I wanted to go out, I would.”
He’s being honest. You’re not keeping him from anything and it’s not like he was forcing himself to be someone he’s not but this wasn’t that serious. Yes, he had a tendency to go out with his friends every weekend and lately that’s declined but it’s not because of you necessarily. He’s just realized he’s way too exhausted these days to exert this much energy on a night he would regret by morning. He made terrible decisions and he’s tired of getting himself in trouble because of them.
“Just say the word and we can leave whenever you want,” Jungkook spoke into your ear as you looked around at everyone surrounding you. It was loud and packed with people in costumes, all looking to spend a fun night out celebrating Halloween. You’ll admit, it’s a bit out of your element but you’ll learn to adapt. It will just take some adjustment but the energy seems high and it might be more fun than staying at the shop to hand out candy all night.
“I’m fine,” you assured him, letting him place a hand on your lower back to lead you to the bar. Tonight was the first time you’ll be meeting Jungkook’s friend but you don’t feel nervous. If anything, he seemed more nervous than you and you weren’t sure how to feel about that. Since your first date the two of you have really leveled up whatever has been brewing between you since the night you met.
You’ve been spending more time together but it usually consists of Jungkook visiting you or texting all day. You haven’t had a chance to see more of him yet— as it feels like he’s been trying to accommodate you—so you’re curious to see how the night plays out with him and his friends.
“Look who finally decided to show up!” A loud voice boomed from the bar where you could see a familiar face smile at you. Hoseok waved happily at you as Jungkook led you to him and the others who watched you curiously. Hoseok ditched the hockey player costume for simple skull makeup and a leather jacket.
“There was a line to get in,” Jungkook admitted, slipping his hand in yours and pulling you forward, “What do you want to drink?”
“Surprise me,” you said with a smile. Jungkook ordered something on your behalf before turning to his other friends, “Everyone this is Y/n.”
“Jungkook didn’t do you any justice,” Taehyung said with a curious tilt of his head, “You’re way prettier than he said.”
“Oh no, what else has he said about me?” You asked with a soft tone that had both Taehyung and Namjoon blinking in surprise.
“Um, well…. A lot of things, neither one of them have shut up since they met you,” Namjoon confessed, looking to Hoseok who seemed to also think highly of you.
“Yes, I think Y/n put a spell on me,” Jungkook teased, handing you a bluish lavender drink and sending you a wink. He, of course, still felt nervous considering this is the first time he’s introducing you to his friends. It’s not that he’s embarrassed of you or anything but he’s definitely worried about what his friends would say to you. Not that long ago, Taehyung tried getting Jungkook to lie to you just because he didn’t care for how serious Jungkook felt about you. Now, Taehyung is here talking to you and Jungkook is worried he might say something he shouldn't.
Honestly, when the night started he didn’t expect you to want to come out. Namjoon had been bugging him all day about it and he had full intentions of not going out so he could spend the night handing out candy with you but… It’s like you have a sixth sense and when you asked him if he had any other plans, he told you what he was invited to and asked you to come along. He full heartedly thought you would say no because you don’t seem like the type to come out drinking but for some reason you agreed and he was happy with that.
Of course he was nervous to introduce you to the others but when he looked over at you and found you smiling softly, trying your hardest to be in the moment, he was grateful. His friends didn’t talk bad about him to you despite the occasional teasing and you didn’t seem uncomfortable by it. Every now and then he would run his thumb against your hip to remind you he’s there but mostly, he just listened.
“You’re being awfully quiet,” you said after a while. Taehyung had asked you question after question about the shop or the spell jar you made Hoseok and you indulged him in it all.
“Hm?” Jungkook fixed the tilt in your witch’s hat, “I’m just listening.”
“Are you having fun?” You asked letting his arm encircle your waist until you faced him. He looked at his friends who managed to grab the attention of some girls nearby and were in deep conversation with them.
His shoulders lifted in a shrug, “It’s alright.”
Your nose scrunched up in thought as you looked away from him, he kept you close trying to get you to look back at him, “I mean… yeah it’s fun but it’s loud and hot and… I don’t know, I kinda want it to just be us.”
“Just us?”
“Yeah, my friends have been talking to you all night,” he said it like it was a secret, “And Joon said he wanted me here so I came but now I’m really in the mood for us to leave—unless you want to stay.”
“Are you trying to ditch out on us?” Hoseok put an arm around his shoulders, dragging him into his side, “You barely come out anymore and now you’ve got Y/n here so there’s no reason to not want to party. It’s Halloween!”
“I know, but,” Jungkook played with his lip ring as he smiled lazily, “You’ve been taking all of my girl’s attention and I’m tired of sharing.”
The words slipped out but he didn’t regret them, even when you looked up at him curiously. He expected some sort of response from you but you merely smiled and shrugged like you weren’t apart of this exchange so when Namjoon asked what was up, Jungkook was honest.
“I think we’re calling it a night,” he had your hand in his, pulling into him as he looked at his friends and whatever girls they were with, “But you guys have fun.”
“That’s it?” Taehyung asked, looking at you, “Y/n, you don’t want to go to another bar?”
Jungkook released a small sigh as he looked down at you. He would love to leave but if you wanted to stay and maybe go to a few more places before ending the night… he’d do it but only because it’s what you want.
“I miss my cat,” you said it so casually that the others couldn’t understand it as an answer at first until you were waving goodbye, happy you met them but ready to go.
You didn’t talk much in the car and Jungkook drove carefully taking you back to the shop that was connected to your home. He’s not sure if you were tired or distracted but you stared out the window chasing the moon through the city. At one point he glanced over and found you nipping at your bottom lip with worry but he tried not to overthink it. The night had been good and you got along with his friends so there wasn’t anything he would change but the silence made him worry.
The car pulled up in front of the lantern lit shop and he looked at you with nerves waiting to see how you would Halloween. It was late but there were still a few people in costumes wandering around and too early to really call it a night. You silently pushed open the door, ready to leave when you sighed, “Jungkook.”
He didn’t have to say anything for you to know he’s listening and you turned to him, “Earlier you called me—“
My girl.
“I know,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “I just meant… I—I don’t know. Was it corny?”
A small laugh left your lips at his sudden question and decided to tease, “Just a little.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was worried about,” Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle, “I was trying to sound cool and…”
“Failed?”
“Whoa,” he held a hand to his chest, “I wouldn’t go that far.” The car was still on but he made no move to leave and neither did you. Instead, he just looked at you sitting half in his car with the door open, “You didn’t like it?”
“Um, it’s not that but,” you bit your lip in thought, “I’m just worried of your intentions.”
“With you?” He asked quietly, watching you nod your head shyly and he sighed, “You don’t know if it’s worth it.”
It sounded like a statement and he knew he was right. You were worried about the curse, he knew you well enough to know that but he doesn’t care. He wants to go out with you and some stupid age old curse isn’t going to change his mind. He understands that you believe it so he won’t look down on it but he wants to be with you.
“What if I said it was?” Jungkook asked with genuine curiosity, “It’d be the first time I get cursed by a witch.”
He meant the last part as a joke and it got you to smile so he was more comfortable to tease, “Maybe I’ll turn into a cat so Coal and I could be friends.”
“He doesn’t like having friends,” You said with a smile and he could practically see your walls crumble so he kept going.
“That’s a shame because I have a dog and he’s the friendliest boy you’ll ever meet,” Jungkook said with a defeated sigh.
“I’m warning you,” you said but he smiled. “I’ve been warned.”
“I won't be upset if you don’t want to see me anymore. I’m a bit weird, yknow?” You seemed to ask, already beginning to warm up to the idea and it was enough to give him hope.
“I would have never guessed,” he said as he twisted a silver star charm you had styled in your hair, leaning closer and closer till his face was only a couple centimeters away, “And if you’re trying to scare me off, it’s not working—I can wake up with a bald head of hair tomorrow and I’ll be fine with it as long as I get to talk to you again.”
“So, do you want to come up then?” You asked and you didn’t have to say it twice for him to be powering off the engine so he could follow you inside.
For the first time ever, he disappeared behind the celestial tapestry that led up to your front door, trying to look around in the darkness. You liked rich shades of purple and blue. You liked stars and sheer drapes on your ceilings. You liked stain glass lamp shades and big soft rugs. Your house was like a whimsigoth cottage in the city and your bedroom was everything he imagined it to be even in the dark.
He expected you to turn the lights or something but instead you seemed to snap a finger before a couple candles lit up the bedroom and he was lost in wonder. It felt like he was enjoying a cozy night in the woods, like he just rested his head on your lap and listen to you read his palm.
“Sorry, it’s a bit messy,” you shoved a couple books aside and looked around the bedroom, “Is there anything I can get you.”
Jungkook shook his head, deciding to go through your vinyls with curiosity, smiling whenever he saw a vinyl with the word ‘witch’ in the title. You explained to him that it was all Jimin’s doing because he found it funny to buy you every vinyl with a Halloween or witchy vibe to it.
“Jungkook,” you called to his distracted mind and he lifted his eyes to you, the reflection from the lit candles in his gaze. You were standing by the edge of your bed, looking shy as you took off the witch’s hat. His lips parted with surprise, letting his feet take him to you until you were face to face and so close that his front brushed against yours. “Is this really something you want?”
He was the guy who had every girl he wanted. He would go to parties and make out with people he should. He would make bad decisions and regret them right after but this feels far from a bad decision. It’s the first time in a while that something felt right and it had to be you. There’s a reason why he’s been cleaning his act up, going to all his classes, showing up to work on time and ditching the nights out getting drunk.
Of course this was something he wanted.
He wanted you.
He had feelings for you.
You felt warm and he wanted to brush his fingers against your hair. Your touch was gentle but sudden as you ran a hand down the front of his chest, circling around his neck taking all his attention once more and he began to lean into you.
“Of course this is something I want,” he said just above a whisper, letting his hands touch down on your waist, unable to hold himself back any longer before he was pressing his lips to yours and kissing you effortlessly.
You tilted your head back, kissing him with equal hunger as he pulled you even closer until your bodies began to mold together into one before guiding you to lay back on your bed. Jungkook was gentle but firm, his hands felt rough but he touched you with such softness when he ran them down your sides. He didn’t hesitate to try and relish in the feeling of you under him, kissing along your neck and pressing his lips to your pulse point until he could feel your breath hitch in your throat.
You’re not a virgin but you’re not entirely experienced and yet you couldn’t find it in you to be nervous. Not even when his hands began to hitch up your black dress making you raise your hips enough for him to pull it up. Jungkook never once pulled his lips away from your skin, the desire to leave love bites was too strong and you were so soft underneath him. You looked up at your dark ceiling with its silver stars plastered all over and a handing moon lantern at the center, letting him kiss down your chest and navel.
“Is this okay?” Jungkook asked with genuine concern as he laid between your parted legs. The skirt of your dress had been pulled up to your stomach exposing the black underwear you wore, feeling his gentle fingers run against your hips patiently. A smile came to your face when he rested his head against your thigh, looking up at you lovingly and you nodded your head.
Jungkook pressed a kiss to your inner thighs, nose brushing against the sensitive areas as his nimble fingers began to brush along the thin black fabric, not yet touching you directly but feeling the outline of what was underneath. He could almost feel it all, the curve of your mound down to the slit where he pushed his thumb against until he could make out your entrance and feel the way you seemed to gasp when he teased you.
You had to bite down on your lip to keep in the surprised yelp from the way he began to pull your underwear down, moving to kiss whatever he exposed, not shying away from being more intimate. He raised your leg, sliding the cloth off before placing soft kisses against your calf and thigh, leading your legs over his shoulders before he laid back down and looked at what was between them. You felt like running away from how focused he seemed on your heat, almost asked him why until he was leaning down, tongue coming out to swipe against your hooded clit teasingly.
The bed was lush with pillows, using them to sink your head into when he did it again, this time more firm and intentional. You’ll admit, it’s been a while since you last had gotten intimate with someone so you couldn’t help but squirm when his tongue became more languid in its movements, separating your folds with the tip of it and letting his lips tug on the pulled skin. You couldn’t help but gasp, feeling his fingers pinch your thighs to keep you still while he circled your hardening clit with the tip of his tongue before kissing your labia and licking up whatever slick you released.
“Oh,” you couldn’t help but let out when he pressed his tongue against your entrance, nose pushing against your clit and just letting himself be completely engulfed by your essence. You could practically feel him smile against your core when he tilted his head to the side to tug your labia softly between his lips before letting it go and repeating the action.
When your hand found his hair, he seemed to pause wondering if you wanted him to stop, but then he felt a tug and he was helplessly following after you until you kissed, neither caring if there was the taste of you on his tongue. A low groan bubbled up in his throat that slipped through your lips when your tongue licked along his like you didn’t care he had just been kissing your soaked pussy and that made him unbelievably hard.
Jungkook moved a hand down to your legs, finding its way to your wet cunt, gently pressing into the puddle of slick at your entrance before moving up to your clit and rubbing it between his fingers. Your hands were in his hair, tugging softly whenever he did something you liked and with his tongue down your throat, he didn’t hesitate to tease your entrance with his middle finger, already feeling how tight your walls are when he began to press inside. Your mouth slipped open in pleasure as he thrusted a long finger into your cunt, palm flat against your clit and rubbing it in rhythm with his finger that soon became two, “You’re so wet, Angel.”
His fingers were completely soaked and anytime he pulled out his fingers to push them back in, he could practically feel the puddle around them and it made his dick throb in his pants. Your kissing came to an end when Jungkook couldn’t help but feel the need to disappear between your legs again, a bit annoyed that the fabric of your dress was in the way but pulled away anyway.
You arched your back off the bed in pleasure when his mouth found your clit again, paying his full attention back on it instead of his fingers which never relented on pumping in and out of you with such vigor that your legs began to shake, “Jungkook.”
“Hm?” He moaned, teeth lightly tugging on your folds and watching them go back until he licked against them to do it again.
“Are you close, Angel?” Jungkook asks with an unusually hoarse voice when you start to clench around his fingers, “Go ahead, let go for me.”
Your face hot and your chest heaving at the intensity just as it hits you and you’re cumming with a whimper that you try and hide behind a closed fist when his tongue eagerly licks up your release as it flows out and around his fingers. It took him a while to stop, only when he felt your thighs tremble did he pull away, some of your release coating his lips and piercings that he hungrily licked clean. A curse left his lips breathlessly as he sat back on his knees and looked down to see the way your pussy was flooded in slick.
You sat up once you had caught your breath, moving closer as he stared at his coated fingers curiously and without thinking, you took his hand by the wrist and brought his fingers toward your mouth. He watched you lick the space between them before bringing them into your mouth and sucking your essence clean off them.
“Fuck, Y/n,” his eyes fell shut as he let himself sink into the feeling of his fingers being sucked into your warm mouth and it was so hot in this bedroom. He pressed his thumb against your cheek as he attempted to take his fingers out of your mouth so he could use two hands to undress finally and you let him do just that. You bit into your bottom lip when he took his shirt off exposing more tattoos and muscle you had never seen but knew was there.
He looked at you as he undid his jeans, kicking them off along with his briefs exposing his hard cock that pointed straight with need that had him wincing at even the slightest touch of his hand against his tip. You quickly pulled on your dress, proving Jungkook’s earlier thoughts right when he questioned if you wore a bra or not—the answer was not—and it led him straight back to you. He kissed down your collarbone, hands on your hips as laid down between your legs, cock against your core causing him to moan out when he raised a hand knead your breast.
“I don’t have a condom,” he whispered in realization as he looked down at the way his slick began to tease your clit. Of course he wanted to continue but he doesn’t have any protection and it’s up to you what you want to do.
Your hands roamed against his back, “Jungkook.”
He looked up at you, lip pulled between his teeth when he felt your hand disappear between your pressed bodies until it circled around his stiff member making him bite back a groan of pleasure. You gave him a few strokes, guiding him down until his tip slipped into your slick and he looked at you with want when you said, “Just fuck me.”
It was all he needed to let himself sink into your entrance, a low moan leaving his lips as he felt his cock open your walls to adjust to his size. He didn’t stop pushing until he was all in, waiting there and feeling your breath grow more impatient as you got used to the feel of him.
He took things nice and slow, still concerned that you might want to end things any second, hoping you began to feel easy how good it felt when he rolled his hips, pushing more of his cock into you when you tightened.
“Fuck…” Jungkook couldn’t stop from cursing as pleasure took over his instincts. His body perfectly molded against yours with no space between them as he only used his hips to fuck you, “So good.”
Although he’s ashamed, he’ll admit that he has had his fair share of sexual intercourse but he can’t remember the last time he felt this good. His body felt like it was moving on its own accord, seeking its own pleasure with yours and he was so close. He kissed along your neck when you tipped your head back, lips parted with the force of his hips pushing himself deeper in a steady, but rough thrust of his cock.
Your breasts pressed against his chest as he practically hugged you to him with each thrust and he knew you were as close as he was to release. He brought a hand up your side until he was cupping a breast in his palm, kneading the soft flesh and rubbing his fingertip against your nipple watching the way your jaw seemed to drop in warning that you were close. Despite his hair being much shorter than it used to be, it still fell forward and over his eyes looking sweaty.
“You feel so good, Angel” he grunts, talking you both through orgasm. It was true, although he was doing all of the work, every little moan he pulled out of you mixed with the feel of your body against his felt so damn good. It made all this patience he had when it came to you worth it.
When Jungkook knew you were just over the edge, he brought his hand down, barely pressing it into your clit when he felt your walls tighten, a growl leaving his lips at how you sucked his cock in until finally, the tension broke and he felt himself flood with your release. He dug his face into your neck, shaking slightly as he bit back his own orgasm until yours subdued and he carefully guided his dick back out. Once the air hit his exposed, soaked member, everything broke loose.
You had taken him in your hand, stroking him through release and costing your thigh in his cum, listening to his string of moans and groans of pleasure with a gentleness he’s not sure he’s ever felt.
It took you both a while to regain some awareness and were ashamed to admit it was Coal’s persistent meowing on the other side of the bedroom door. Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh as he let himself collapse down on your bed next to you, breathing heavily with a hand on his chest as he saw stars—literally, littered across your ceiling. His hand searched endlessly for some sign of you, taking a lock of your hair and twisting it around his finger when you moved to sit up, hands covering your exposed intimates almost shyly. He raised a curious brow, sitting up on his elbow as he looked at the mess the two of you had made.
“You okay?” He asked with concern. The candles lit around the room reflected a soft glow off your skin and you looked as ethereal and whimsical as he thought that first night.
“Yes,” you said quietly, “I think I need a shower, though.”
He smiled, “So let’s take one.”
The next morning you found him sitting at the wooden counter of the shop.
“What are you reading?” You asked Jungkook as he had a book open, studying it carefully.
“Natural contraceptives,” Jungkook mumbled as he wrote down the names of various herbs on an old napkin, “I should have been more prepared last nigh—Do you have Black Cohosh or Angelica by chance? I heard if you drink it in a tea, it should help promote menstrua—“
Your hand covers his mouth when you felt the tall tale signs of your best friend approaching. Even before Jimin opened the door to the shop, he had a shit eating grin at the sight of you two, and not caring much for secrecy as he waved a finger to turn the sign to ‘OPEN’.
“So what did the two of you get up to last night?” He asked casually, trying to peak at the book that you quickly slammed shut bringing an amused smile to Jungkook’s face.
“We went out for some drinks,” Jungkook answered, standing up with an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple, “I’m going to start boiling water.”
It was strangely comical and endearing the way he acted and Jimin watched the way your gaze followed after him.
“Wow, and I didn’t even have to cast a love spell to bring that look into your eyes.”
On the night of November 1st, outside during a crescent moon, Jungkook asked if you could be his girlfriend sounding strangely shy that you couldn’t say no.
::.
omg this took me forever but I finally got out a little Halloween fic and I’ve actually done a softer, cuter oc than usual? woahhh who am I. also my bday is this Sunday [oct 29] and I just think I’m so special I gotta let yall know
permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin n @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling
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dragon-kazansky · 1 month
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Bridgerton shade of blue
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Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Fourteen - Scandals in abundance
♡♡♡
When you sat down for breakfast, you expected a peaceful morning between you and your mother. However, the knock at the door was urgent, and quickly did the butler come rushing in with the latest Whistledown column. He handed it to your mother instantly.
You sat there and watched many expressions cross her face, wondering what on earth had been written to have her react in such a frenzy.
Only when she was done reading, and only then were you given the paper to read. You took it from your butler and looked st the first column.
The gasp you let out was louder than you anticipated. Your eyes rose to meet your mother's.
"I must go."
She simply nods and calls for the carriage to be prepared for you. You head upstairs to get yourself ready immediately.
The Bridgertons must be beside themselves.
Marina Thompson is pregnant and has been since she arrived in Mayfair. Poor Colin had no idea. He couldn't possibly have. You were certain of it.
You had no idea that just the night before, he had devised a plan to run away with Marina to marry her in Scotland. Not that he could now, surely.
The carriage ride to the Bridgerton house felt like a long journey, though you were certain that had to be because you were anxious to get there. When the carriage finally did stop, you didn't even wait for the footman. You opened the door, startled the poor man, and hurried out. He watched you rush up to the front door and knock rather urgently.
The butler answered the door and called your name into the house. You entered and found your way into the drawing room. Violet was fanning herself on one of the sofas, Colin was nowhere to be seen. You made your way over to Lady Bridgerton and held up the glass of water that was sitting on the table to her. She took it and sipped it.
Benedict and Eloise were also present in the room, neither of them said a word.
"Did he know?" You had to ask.
Benedict and Eloise both shook their heads at you.
"Where is he?"
"In his room," Eloise answers rather solemnly.
Violet waved her fan a little more quickly. It would appear that one could not be a Bridgerton without coming close to a scandal. Lady Whistledown sees and hears all.
You feel for poor Colin. Apparently, he believed himself in love with the woman. Though Anthony took the blame for that. Colin was still young.
"Eloise, dear, we must get ready for the modiste." Violet closes her fan and stands from beside you.
Eloise groans.
"Now, dear."
You watch in silence as Eloise stands and goes with her mother. Before Violet exits the room, she turns to you. "It was nice of you to come by, my dear."
You smile at her and watch her go. Once she's out of the room, you turn to Benedict. "Tell me everything."
Benedict leans forward and tells you all he knows. From Marina's arrival to the pregnancy, she had kept secret. The man she was under love with and his absence. It had all been in Whistledown. You didn't learn anything particularly new other than that Marina had intended to keep her condition quiet and then tell Colin she was pregnant after they were married.
Portia Featherington knew, of course. It's why she was so keen to marry Marina off.
"Gosh."
"Yes, I know."
"How is Colin?" You ask. "Truly."
"Not great, I admit. He hasn't spoken a word to us since the paper arrived this morning. He has kept much to himself."
"Do you think he will speak to me?"
"I do not know." Benedict says softly. "Do you wish to try?"
You shrug lightly. "No harm in attempting."
Benedict leads the way to Colin's door, and you knock gently on the hard wood. You hear no response, but with one nod from Benedict, you talk.
"Colin? I'm sorry to hear of what happened. I hope you are well."
Nothing.
You sigh. "Know that you may call on me for anything."
You turn and face Benedict. You have no idea what else to say. What does one say in such a situation?
Benedict leads you back to the drawing room.
"I believe there is to be a family meeting. Daphne is coming down too."
"Daphne? Goodness. Word reached her door, too?" You sigh.
"She is family."
"I know. I envy that."
"Envy?" He looks at you curiously. "Envy what?"
"That bond you have with your family." You sit down again, not sure what else to do with yourself.
"You do not have that bond with your mother?" He asks, sitting opposite you.
"Having a bond with your mother is one thing, but you Bridgertons are a family. You have siblings. Anthony, who looks out for all of you, though admittedly, not always in the best of ways. Daphne, who adores you all so dearly she will make such a trip just to be here for her brother. I have no sibling. No father. Just mother. When something happens in my family, we only have each other."
Benedict fights the urge to reach out for your hand.
"I shouldn't complain. I am lucky to have what I do, and I am grateful. I just wish I had siblings to look after and rely on. I hope I have several children one day who can experience that."
Benedict listens to you talk about your hyperthetical future again. Every time you talk about it he feels a strange twinge begin to turn in his chest.
"I'm sure that will be a reality one day."
You smile wistfully.
"I shall be good to see Daphne again. I have missed her. Have you not?" You ask.
"Of course. She is my most sensible sister." He grins.
You laugh. "I have to say the most sensible of the lot."
Benedict laughs, too.
It feels good to laugh.
♡♡♡
Daphne doesn't arrive until the evening. You have long since left the Bridgerton house by then. Benedict had seen you out, and you spent the rest of the day at home.
A family meeting was just that, for family.
You don't see the Bridgerton family for a couple of days. As you understand it, Colin and Marina meet, chaperoned by Daphne, to talk. It wasn't the most cheerful conversations, you hear.
The queen's luncheon was the first time you saw the Bridgerton lot after a few days of absence. Daphne had been the one to reach out to you after securing an invite. You accepted, of course.
You stood in the gardens and awaited their arrival. All eyes were certainly on them upon their entering the garden.
Benedict caught your gaze and offered a small flicker of a smile. You smiled back. He looked relieved to see you. Perhaps all this drama surrounding his family was a bit much over the last few days.
You wanted to approach them, but your mother kept a firm hold on your arm. You sip your drink quietly, eyes drifting away from the family you so wished to greet.
As people approach the Bridgertons and the Bassetts to greet them, Benedict finds himself greeted by Granville.
"I have missed you in the studio of late. You must join me for another drawing lesson," Henry says to Benedict. "As I said, improvement is all a matter of practice."
Benedict glances over in the direction you're standing in. His mind briefly recalls the day he let you see into his sketchbook. Your words rang clear in his head.
"At least, that is the excuse he gives for coming home with paint in all kinds of peculiar places," Mrs Granville says with a chuckle.
Benedict giggles awkwardly and then spots someone just beyond the garden talking to Cressida Cowper of all people.
"Ah! Were you able to meet my friend Wetherby at my party? Come, I shall introduce you."
"No, thank you." Benedict says quickly. "I- I see my mother requires my presence. Good day!" Benedict leaves quickly.
Truth be told, he hadn't visited the studio since you asked him where he went off to on his evenings. He couldn't bring himself to go back.
That, and you complimented his art so wonderfully. He often heard your kind words in his mind as he sketched these days.
He was rather starting to like his work.
The Featheringtons arriving had all eyes on them. No one whispered a word about Colin. However, that did not mean they wouldn't talk about the family that had hosted the girl mentioned in the gossip column. If anything, people defend Colin.
Eloise rescues Penelope from the stares her family are retrieving.
Portia tried to talk to Violet. It was rather awkward to watch. You turned your eyes from them and tried to speak to your mother, but even she was watching with keen eyes.
The Featheringtons are asked to leave once Violet walks away without saying a word.
You watch Penelope follow her family out.
The next to walk off is Daphne, and you know not why. You hadn't even had the chance to talk to her.
Something seemed to be upsetting her too.
Your heart ached to see the people around you suffering. It seems it doesn't simply rain. It pours.
Managing to free yourself from your mother, you stroll along the outer hedges of the party. Benedict manages to intercept you there, smiling softly at you.
"Hello."
"Hello." You repeat softly.
"It's been a bus few days."
"Yes. I imagine."
Benedict stands there and stares at you for a moment. He's not sure what it is he wants to say. That is, if there is anything at all he wants to say. All he knew was that he wanted to see you.
"You look sad," he says.
"Sad? I'm not sad."
"No?"
"No."
Silence falls between you both. He scans your face quietly. You're avosiign his gaze, and he can see the way you lightly pluck at your gloves. Rather pretty gloves, he might add. Did you always wear such pretty gloves, or did you pick these out, especially for this occasion.
Benedict frowns. Why did he care so much about your gloves?
"What is the matter?" He asks softly.
"I can't help seeing the sadness in others around me. Colin. Daphne. Penelope. Your mother."
Benedict remains silent.
"Everyone seems to be hurting in one way or another, and I either do not know why, or do and cannot do a thing. Can I confide in you about something? Without judgement and disdain against me?"
Benedict gives you the slightest nod.
"I hate society."
You see the way his brows raise. Yet you see no judgement in his eyes.
"I hate the way it judges, discriminates, gossips, and picks and chooses. I hate the way it functions." You speak so passionately, from the heart. "Society turns its back on someone the moment they step out of line or even slightly bend the rules. One wrong move or word and its all over."
Benedict is intrigued by your views. So many thoughts must be occupying your mind, and he's only heard a fraction. It's in this moment he realises he doesn't know you. The real you, that is. He just knows a fraction of who you are.
There's a goofy crooked smile on his face.
"What?" You ask, looking at him.
"What?"
"You think I'm silly, don't you?"
"I never said that," he defends himself.
"Then why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?" He chuckles.
"That!" You say, trying not to raise your voice too much. You weren't fond of the idea of drawing attention to you both.
Benedict merely laughs, and you groan softly. Now you're getting agitated, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't somewhat enjoying that.
"I think you're fascinating."
You state at him blankly. "Huh?"
Benedict chuckles again, and you quickly jab him in the arm without anyone noticing.
"Ow!"
"Shut up," you hiss at him.
"What? What did I say?"
"Nothing! Forget it. You're infuriating me." You sigh.
Benedict tries to hold back his giggles.
At least someone can smile despite the rain clouds over everyone else's heads.
You crack a smile and then giggle. Benedict laughs, too. You both must look so silly giggling in the hedges.
"Oh, Benedict, you do make every miserable thing seem more positive." You smile at him.
"How so?"
"Just by being you."
Benedict swears he could fly from the amount of joy you have just bestowed in him. Never has anyone said anything more heartwarming to him than that.
As you travel home in the carriage with your mother after the luncheon, you cannot stop yourself from smiling. You have been cheerful from the moment you left.
"Whatever has you grinning, dearest?" Your mother asks you as you gaze out the window.
You keep your eyes trained on the passing scenery, your lips ever grinning.
"Nothing, mother. Nothing at all."
♡♡♡
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saekkas · 1 year
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𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄
summary: in which you need to wrestle your boyfriend, michael kaiser, out of his bed to fulfil a promise- re dye his hair.
notes: it's meant to be a continuation of this fic but you can read it as a standalone too! 2.1k words for my favorite german pomeranian <3
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germany is beautiful. in all seasons and weather, even with rain and snow pelting down the windows. the bread and sausages make amazing breakfast items, the beer is pleasantly warm, and the sight of castles and palaces all around the country make you feel like a princess. your favorite though, is when spring comes around.
spring blows away the last dregs of winter. there are puddles from melted snow all over the station, sweaters are still needed because of the chilly air, and christmas decorations still litter around town square, ready to be replaced by the eggs of easter. it's when mother nature reappears, pushing winter away for another half year.
coincidentally, it's michael kaiser's least favorite time of the year.
"you don't love me anymore, do you?" he dramatically sobs into your neck, his hands holding onto your body for dear life. "you're moving away to break up with me, aren't you?"
his duvets feel like clouds. made out of the softest material, you find it hard to haul yourself out of the room every day. his sheets are made of silk, a beautiful rose gold in hue, and his bed is enormous, framed by mahogany wood on all sides. kaiser's bedroom is heaven on earth, and you've got your personal angel lying in the middle of it all.
"you've finally found someone better, haven't you?" he asks once more, his eyes peeking from your chest. his hair is a mess, the blue streaks already fading out to match the rest of his hair, there are dark circles surrounding his eyes, and he's got patches of drool in the corner of his lips. but you don't think he's ever looked more ethereal than this.
"who is it?" there's a pout on his lips, his eyes still drowsy from sleep. you watch with a smile of your own, taking in his fluttering eyelashes, your faces close enough to count every last one. "is it a guy from china that you met in hawaii? is he prettier than me? richer? is that why you're leaving me for him?"
"what are you even talking about, silly?" even when you roll your eyes, the smile stays, and you look at him with every bit of fondness in your body. "you're the only pretty boy for me. you know that."
his lips stretch out into a dopey smile, an uncontained giggle spilling from his lips. there's a certain giddiness in his motions, as if he couldn't contain his feelings inside his body. you watch with amusement as he kicks his feet, accidentally pushing pillows out of the bed.
"mhm. i know. just wanted to hear you say it," he hums, going back to nuzzling your tummy. he mumbles incoherently against your shirt before yanking the fabric up, burrowing his face onto your bare skin. "love you, pretty."
"were you out drinking last night?" you shake your head, squealing when he blows against your bare skin. "i thought i could trust ness to keep you out of trouble."
"i wasn't drinking." he's back to his whiny state, both of his hands tightening on your waist. there's a glare this time, his lips twisting back into a pout. "you shouldn't trust ness. trust me instead."
sunlight bleeds into the room, soft and serene as they bypass the curtains. a ray bounces off the mirror on kaiser's vanity, one he specifically added just for you, and makes its way to his face, bathing him in a dreamy glow. the reflection of light turns his eye into an icy blue, stealing your breath. he looks divine.
you take him in, as much as he does you. there's a muted sound from traffic, and the chatter of birds but in the moment, nothing else matters except you and him. his frown deepens after a moment of silence and you chuckle, relenting as you thread your hands into his hair.
"love you too, baby."
if there's anything you've learned from dating him through years, it's that your boyfriend absolutely loathes it when you fail to respond to his declarations of love. another thing, is that he becomes clingier and far more possessive when spring comes, dreading every moment he has to be away from you for matches.
it's seen in the way he's holding your body tighter, preventing you from moving an inch off the bed. he's pouty, lips twisted downward because it's the last day he has you to himself before he's called back to the field. it's on days like this that you smother him until he can't shake away the ghost of your lips around his body, even in the middle of a match.
"gonna let me move anytime soon?" the hand on his head moves to glide down his neck, stroking the sensitive skin around the back of his ear. you watch as he moans, his eyes snapping shut at the touch. "mein kaiser?"
"wenn du so weitermachst." his voice is low, his heart beating faster as he moves from his previous position to hover above you with half lidded eyes. "du wirst dich überhaupt nicht bewegen können, liebling."
translation: if you continue to be like this, you won't be able to move at all, darling.
you suppose there's a reason he's down on earth rather than above. michael kaiser may have the looks of an angel but he acts like the devil.
he's looking down at you with a dangerous glint in his eyes, as if ready to eat you alive. you gulp, eyes roaming down the expanse of his chest before they land on the necklace dangling by his neck. the ring it holds is 24 carats, gold, with roman numerals of your anniversary date engraved on the inside. it matches with the diamond encrusted promise ring on your finger, gleaming in the shade of his eyes.
you tug the necklace, pulling him until you're nose-to-nose. you shiver at the way his eyes darken even more, his lips quirking into a smirk. "who knew you were so naughty, liebling," he hums, pushing your knees apart to slot himself between your legs. "who taught you, hm?"
"you did," you say before lifting the ring to your lips, kissing it with a small smile. he shudders at the intimacy of the action. "you also taught me not to break my promises, right?"
kaiser raises an eyebrow at the direction you're taking this. he's got you on the bed, flushed, under him. to him, the only promise worth thinking about right now is the promise of intimacy and pleasure.
"i promised to dye your hair, remember?" you lean forward, this time pressing a kiss onto your beloved. "you can do whatever you want to me after we're done."
he groans, letting himself drop on your body. he giggles when you groan at his weight, his face flushing at your words. "whatever i want. that's a promise too, right?" the whisper of his voice against your ear is delightful, and you nod where you're pressed against his shoulder. "i hope you intend to keep that one too, liebling~"
he waits for a moment, savoring your warmth until you start to squirm. laughing, he hovers over you once more to press a kiss on your forehead before scooting over to make room for you to move. "gonna let me use your mask?" he grins widely when you nod, rushing over to the bathroom.
but not before stripping off his night tee and chucking it straight at your head, laughing like a mad man when you throw his beloved stuffed panda at his back in retaliation.
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your boyfriend has always been restless. he's never shown much patience, and you should've known that re-dyeing his hair was going to be a hassle. "hold still, mikka." your tone is scolding but not stern, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration to make sure the dye doesn't spill. "i need to make sure you look pretty."
he stops squirming at the nickname, a mischievous smile spreading on his lips as he places a hand on your hip. "you should call me mikka more often, it's cute." he looks up from his position, seated on a chair and facing your front, and wiggles his eyebrows at you. "not only when you want something."
"yeah?" you hum, distracted by the strands of his hair in your hand. you grasp at it with gloves, sectioning to thinner pieces before using a brush to smear the color in. it comes out decently and you grin in satisfaction before moving onto another strand. "glad you like it. it suits you."
kaiser stays unmoving, not even answering back like he's supposed to. concerned with the sudden silence, you look down only to be greeted by a blinding his smile. you quirk an eyebrow, smiling at him in question. "what?"
"you're so cute." he tries to shake his head, stopping when you send him a glare. the hand on your hip squeezes at the fat in affection, his eyes shining even against the brightly lit bathroom. "ich liebe dich, liebling."
"very romantic of you," you say with a roll of your eyes. you store away the bowl of blue hair dye in your hand, leaning down to press a kiss. you feel him hum against your lips, his smile widening from the kiss as he pulls you closer. "i love you too, mikka. even when you won't sit still."
"are you done yet?" he asks with wide eyes, the sight of his puppy eyes looking at you from below sending butterflies to your stomach. "can i look?"
"mhm. go ahead." you step back, making room for him to face the mirror. you watch over his shoulder as he examines his newly re dyed hair, the blue strands at the bottom a contrast to his pale blond. you were getting used to the full head of blond, getting used to having mikka all to yourself. now you've got to share him with the world again as michael kaiser makes his comeback on the field.
"you like it?"
"i love it and i love you."
"maybe we should try another color next time. like purple or pink," you say before giggling at the way his face lights up at the suggestion. you eye him in curiosity when he turns to look at you with a proud grin.
he moves quicker than you expect, grabbing your waist and setting you on the bathroom vanity. he pushes you against the mirror, planting a searing kiss on your lips. you feel him smirk against your lips as his hands move to trail down your waist, settling on your thighs.
"there. a thank you kiss for my little genius," he says, breathless from the exchange, a wicked gleam in his eyes that you're wary of. he leans his forehead against yours, pressing a kiss to your nose. "one 'i'm sorry' kiss too."
"what for-" you're about to question him but a sigh interrupts your words, one that comes from the feeling of wet hair dye trickling down your neck and clothes.
you glare as he presses another kiss in apology. "i'm sorry."
"no, you're not," you snort at the teasing smile on his face. "now i have to go bathe."
he perks up, "want me to join-"
"no."
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bonus:
"you really are pretty, mikka." glancing at the mirror from behind him, you watch with fascination as kaiser pushes a hello kitty hairband onto his head. it's yours, one you bought as a pair with his pink panther one. surprisingly, he likes this one more. "the prettiest."
you watch him nod to his own reflection, seemingly agreeing with your words. his newly dried hair bobs along with the motion, the strands fluffy and smooth. you'd run your hands through if you hadn't just spent the last half hour styling it.
"your prettiest-"
"-like a german pomeranian."
"...what?"
"nothing!" you laugh at the disgruntled expression he wears, shaking your head. hoping to appease him before the whining ensues, you hand him a small container filled with matcha facemask. his favorite to wear because it does wonders for his skin.
he looks at the thing as if it's offended his entire lineage. "you're seriously going to bribe me with this?" he pouts, crossing his hands against his chest.
such a big baby. your big baby, though.
"what's wrong? pomeranians are cute!"
"yeah but i'd be more of a husky," he grumbles as he pushes the pink panther hairband onto your head, clearing any hair away from your face. he uses a brush to smear the mask across, stopping every so often to peck your lips. "they're handsome, strong, and expensive."
"high maintenance, too," you mumble under your breath before shrugging. "i just like pomeranians better," you grin, scrunching your nose when he finishes with a kiss on it.
"...fine. german pomeranian it is then."
3K notes · View notes
fangirl-dot-com · 3 months
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Chapter 28 - Always Bet on Red and Navy
As promised you hungry demons. But I love you all! My midterms were absolutely awful and have kind of put me back in a mindset that I have desperately tried to break out of. So, writing this was a bit therapeutic because there aren't any teachers grading this. It's just you all who take everything with such love.
So please enjoy this!
Your eyes glimmered with the reflective lights as you walked through the turnstile. This year, a white body suit was not on your body and your neck was void of an iconic red scarf. But, each breath you took filled your lungs with familiar air. The small crowds of people, who showed up early for qualifying, chanted your name with each step you took. Your eyes were squinted into half crescents by your smile. To your left, Vito was typing things on his iPad, a Bluetooth speaker in his ear as he talked. 
His words were mumbled as the two of you kept walking to the garage. He looked heated as his voice began to raise. He walked right passed you and into your driver’s room. You guessed you wouldn’t be using it for a while. 
A yawn escaped your lips as you looked around. Max hadn’t arrived yet, along with mostly everyone that you normally talked to. Your eyes flittered across the paddock. A light shone from the Mercedes garage. A smirk rose on your lips. You hadn’t been able to talk to Lewis for a while and you missed the Brit. You grabbed your blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders. This was nothing like Singapore where you wished you could escape the heat. Here in Vegas, you wanted to escape the cold. 
You gingerly stepped into the lighted garage, feet barely making an echo. You knew where the back room was. A coffee sounded really good right now as you were fighting sleep. Your eyes widened at the sight of Lewis all bunched on a couch. You could tell that he was sound asleep, since his eyes were shut and his face looked so relaxed. You took a couple of steps and sat down next to him. When he didn’t move, you knew you were save. You watched as he shivered next to you, neck outstretched in a weird angle, resting on the back of the couch. His arms were wrapped around his torso
You lightly pouted at the sad sight. Thankfully, your blanket was big enough for two people. You lightly draped the cream colored fabric onto most of his body. You watched him unconsciously relax underneath the blanket. You quickly situated yourself next to him, and gently put your head on his shoulder. 
Lewis stirred at the new weight on his left side. His eyes barely opened as he tried to blink the sleep away. His face was met with blond hair and the smell of your vanilla shampoo. He now noticed the cream blanket on him and you cuddled up close. 
“Kid?” 
“Shhhhh, sleep now, questions later.” 
Lewis didn’t even have time to argue before he was being dragged back to sleep land. His arm rose up to lie behind your head, inevitably giving you more room under his arm. You scooched closer to the warmth of the 7-time world champion. 
Toto sighed as he walked out of his office. Everything was falling quickly. When Lewis mentioned that he wanted to initiate the escape clause in his contract, Toto thought that he was going to be retiring at the end of the season after another failed attempt at the world championship. He just wasn’t expecting his star to leave him for another team. The Austrian’s hand rubbed over his forehead. 
He didn’t want to think about that now. He could only focus on the next three races of the 2024. Vegas, Qatar, and Abu Dhabi was all he had left. Toto rounded the corner to the little kitchen station where their multiple coffee makers were. Nothing could beat Ferrari’s authentic Italian espresso, but hopefully a regular coffee pod could do. 
What Toto didn’t expect was for you to be snuggled up to Lewis on the couch that resided there. A sad smile made its way to his face. The two of you looked so innocent together, faces void of the usual wear and tear from the life that you lived. He quickly sent a text over to Christian to let him know where you were. His phone showed that they still had a few hours left before qualification started. The team principal just knew that you were going to win this weekend. Max had done a good job, trying to get the jump on you. But, when one’s name tops the P1 spot for all of the practices, there’s no choice in fighting it. 
You owned this track. 
A homecoming of sorts. 
Toto had barely payed any attention to you last year as you walked around in your sparkly outfit, following the reigning world champion. He knew of you. Just another name of a rookie trying to get into Formula 1. Looking back now, the Austrian wishes that he had done more to sign you. 
His phone softly dinged, and his eyes adjusted to the brightness of his screen. A text from Christian let him know that Max was on the way to come get you. Inside, he truly wished that you could have maybe been what you were to Max, to Lewis. But he lost out on you and he now lost out of Lewis. His days of complete domination were over.
Toto lightly stepped closer to the sofa and crouched down. His arm extended and lightly pushed on Lewis’s shoulder. The Briton’s eyes fluttered awake as he looked around, trying to get his bearings in order. Lewis’s eyes stopped on you, who was still sound asleep. Your eyes flitted behind your eyelids. 
“Should we wake her up?” Toto asked. “Max is coming to get her in a moment.” 
Lewis shook his head. 
“She’s dreaming.” 
A soft smile formed on his face as he watched you puff air and inhale harshly sometimes. You murmured gibberish, which the Mercedes pair had a hard time trying not to laugh. Footsteps announced someone else’s presence. The duo’s head jerked in the direction and watched as Max rounded the corner. 
Max froze at the sight of you snuggled into Lewis, your coveted blanket laying across yours and Lewis’s laps. 
“I’m quite jealous Lewis. She rarely shares the blanket.” 
Lewis’s eyebrow rose. “I just saw here sharing with Logan last race.” 
Max laughed softly, still not wanting to wake you up. 
“That was a different blanket. This is her Dior one. See the monogram? She doesn’t share that with anyone, not even me.” 
There was humor in the Dutchman’s voice as he explained. Max took a couple of steps before stooping down. He gently picked you up in his arms. You didn’t move a muscle as he adjusted you in his grasp. 
Lewis stood up and popped his joints. He took the blanket off his lap and layed it back over you. It draped weirdly across you and Max’s arms. It was silent as the three men watched you try to get closer to the warm that was Max Verstappen. 
“Well, I will get her back to the garage. You two have a good night.”
After Max said that, you talked a bit loudly. 
The Red Bull driver stopped in his tracks, wondering if Lewis and Toto heard. 
Lewis snorted. “Was that Dutch?’ 
The blond nodded as he looked down at you. There was a proud smile on his face. 
“I’ve been teaching her some words, but she always claims that it’s too hard. But here she is, sputtering out fluent sentences.” 
Toto asked, “What did she say.” 
“That’s the funny thing. She said something about a king. Must be a weird dream. She had a few weird ones the other night.” 
Lewis smirked up at him. “Care to share?” 
“No.” 
The three laughed a bit before Max bid goodbye, complaining that his arm was falling asleep. Max brought you back to his driver’s room and layed you down on his extra couch. There was a lot of time before qualifying, so he thought he would follow suit and try to get a nap in. His thoughts melted away as soon as his head hit the pillow. 
A few hours later, you and Max were woken up for qualifying. You scratched your head as you tried to remember some of the dreams you had last night. Max had told you that you were able to sputter out fluent Dutch, which then he got onto you for complaining about learning it when you were awake. Now he knew that you knew more than you were letting him know. 
Thankfully, there were no loose drain holes to rip up the floors of the cars. You had easily put your car in the P1 spot, certifying your claim on this track. 
Before the race, you were hunched together with Logan, Lando, and Oscar. Another one of your blankets was around everyone. Your cream Dior blanket would not have been big enough and you didn’t want it touching the dirty floor. On a small chair that sat in front of you, a computer played Cars 2. 
It felt so much like déjà vu while watching it. The movie took you back to your first free practice as a rookie last year, cuddling up with Logan and Oscar on a shared chair. At least this time, the four of you had upgraded to a sofa that was dragged to the outside pit lane. The officials were going over the circuit one last time, just to make sure that it was safe to drive. The chilly air would have raised goosebumps, but the four of you were in the race suits already. The scratchy fabric combined with the fireproofs really kept you insulated. This year, they brought back the Elvis suits. 
Max, Alex, Charles, and Carlos were standing off to the side, checking up on you four from time to time. 
“Anyone else feel like a parent watching them?” Alex questioned out loud, leading to many groans from the group. 
Max sighed, hands on his hips. “All the time. You know how many juice boxes I have to make sure I pack just in case? The answer is a lot.” 
Carlos watched Lando snuggle more into the blanket and into Oscar, still trying to warm up. The Aussie just rolled his eyes, but let him snuggle anyway. 
The Spaniard agreed. “Lando still has his little stuffed animal from a few years ago. Doesn’t leave or go anywhere without it.”
Alex nodded his head. “Oscar and Logan were both in my driver’s room the other day, looking so tired. Turns out, they weren’t sleeping because they watched a horror movie and were too scared to just go to bed. They’ve spent the last couple of nights in my room.” 
Charles shrugged. “Yeah mate, I don’t know. Y/n is just Y/n. She’s always acted like this, with Arthur.” 
Max rolled his eyes. “Surely she’s done something while being at Dams.” 
The Monegasque thought for a moment, before his eyes widened. 
“Ok, there was this one time that Arthur called me to their room. Dams gave them like no money and they often shared a hotel room if they could. And when I got there, they immediately through swim trunks at me. Apparently, they couldn’t go to the pool or water park without adult supervision. The worker there thought they were like younger than 18.” 
The group laughed after the story, making the other group of four turn their heads. 
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Lando questioned, eyes still on the movie. 
“Probably weird adult stuff. Like how one time Max showed up to Milton in his pajamas because he thought it was just a big debrief. No, it was actually a meeting with board members and sponsors.” 
Logan started to laugh loudly at the story, a bit too tired to contain the giggles. 
That made Alex look over again as he sighed. 
“I’m glad Williams kept him on. He was so sure that he was going to be booted after what happened in Qatar.” 
Max looked with sad eyes at the blond, who was currently in a you and Oscar sandwich. 
“Are they going to be renewing his contract after this?” 
Alex had a wicked grin on his face. “Mate, the kid gave Williams their first win since 2012. Of course they extended his contract.” 
Carlos jutted his head. “What about you mate.” 
The Thai shook his head as he lightly laughed. “Logan said he wouldn’t sign unless I got the same amount of years he did.” 
Charles’s eyes widened. “Congrats mate.” 
Logan had started to look over. “They must really be talking about adult stuff.” 
You carefully turned his head back to the movie. 
“Shhhhh, Lightning McQueen is on.” 
This year, you were able to actually finish the movie instead of having to promise that you’d finish it later. 
As you sat on the circuit, Mitch did a quick radio check. 
“Ok kid. You ready to win Vegas?” 
You shrugged in the car, even if she couldn’t see you. “I don’t know about win, but I will try my best. You know what Lego Batman says?” 
Mitch rolled her eyes lovingly. “What does he say?” 
“Always bet on black. But our colors aren’t black. So I’m changing the saying. Always bet on red and navy.” 
“And they are ready to go. I’ll keep you updated when you need it.” 
With that, Mitch let you be as you took off for the formation lap. You knew you had to keep the tyres warm. You watched in your mirrors as the cars behind you started to swerve right to left and then left to right. 
However, you were doing a more subtle approach as you constantly braked hard and then accelerated hard as well. It was a trick you picked up when watching Kimi do the same. 
Charles was a bit worried as he was swerving behind Max. 
“Are her tyres even warming up? Oh, never mind. She’s doing what Kimi always did.” 
It wasn’t long before all the cars were lined up, back in the starting positions. You watched out for the dust on the asphalt, knowing that it caused lots of troubles last year. The lights went off and you were drastically pulling ahead of the pack. 
A bit into the race, you watched as your wheels smoked white as you went around a corner. 
“Lock up in turn 3.” 
“Copy.” 
You hadn’t expected it to happen again, but it did. 
“Damn it. How much are we loosing on the corners?” you questioned, trying to get your car back under control. In the mirrors you saw how Charles and Max were slowly creeping back up to you. 
“Two tenths.” 
You sighed angrily. 
The two male drivers had caught up with you and now it was an all-out, three car battle for first. You were struggling to keep your position. You prayed and hoped that your tyres wouldn’t lock up again. But, they didn’t seem to work as they locked up again, letting Max and Charles fly past. You cursed under your breath. However, you had an idea. 
“Mitch, box for hards please.” 
“Are you sure?” 
You smirked under your helmet. “Always bet on red and navy.” 
You watched as the Red Bull and Ferrari kept going away as you pulled into the pits. If you’re breaks were going to lock up, then the stopping would cause more friction to go to the tyres. In the end, you hoped that the hard tyres would warm up quicker than if you just swerved or waited for them to warm by just driving. 
At the first corner, your breaks locked up once again. 
“How are the temperatures of the tyres?” 
“Heating up quickly.” 
The smirk returned to your face. 
“Perfect.”
You were still behind Charles and Max by the time that they had done their one pitstop. They had also gone out on hard tyres. Your car was still locking up, but you made up the time since your tyres were much more hot. 
It was the third to last lap when you finally made it to the males’ radars. 
“How the hell did she make it this close?” Charles asked, looking in his mirrors as you kept gaining. 
“Last we heard, she was locking up. Keep pushing.” 
The Monegasque saw white puff out of your brakes, yet you seemed to shake it off quickly.
The last lap finally came. 
You watched as your car was getting close to the two leaders. It was time for the all or nothing. 
“Kid, play it safe. Lock up happens on the last corner.”
“Gotta play something.” 
“Kid.” 
You shut the radio off. 
It was a “Never back down never what?” move time. 
You turn on DRS and got side by side with Charles and Max. The two were paying so much attention to each other that they didn’t see you slip by. 
If your brakes were to lock up, then you’d be sent into the barriers going 300+ k/m an hour. It would be deadly at this rate. Your heart started to pick up as you came closer to the corner. You had the outside racing line. You just had to get in front of Max and break as late as you could. 
You held your breath as you finally braked. 
Mitch watched with wide eyes at the pit wall. 
“What is she thinking?” Christian questioned, watching as you finally braked. 
Yet, your tyres never locked up. 
Mitch finally got what you were saying. 
“She had to win a bet.” 
You wanted to cheer as you came out in front of Max in the final chicane. Max, in his car, couldn’t believe it as you slipped past to cross the line in P1. 
You finally let out a deep exhale as the race completed. You pulled into Parc Ferme. You undid your steering wheel and got out. You raised your arms at the crowd before walking to your team. Helmet pats came from everyone as you made your rounds. 
A soft punch landed on your arm. You turned around to see Max, faux anger in his eyes.
“What were you thinking? Braking that late with lock ups? You should have retired the death trap.” 
You rolled your eyes as his over protectiveness. 
“Would you have retired the car?” 
The silence from the Dutchman was your answer. 
“I had to bet on something. We are in Vegas after all.” 
“Sure kid.” 
The limo was squished with you in the middle of Max and Charles. However, this year, the three of you got to Maxsplain, Leclerify, and Y/n-strate on the way to the anticlimactic fountain show during the interviews. 
Nico was the one conducting them this race. After Charles and Max gave their pieces it was your turn. You walked up to the spot with a bright smile, still feeling the high of yet another race win. Nico’s smile was a reflection of your own. 
“So, Y/n, how many race wins does this make for you.” 
“Three, I believe.” 
“Wow, so you’ve already passed Lewis’s record for points during a rookie season, how does that make you feel?” 
You thought for a moment. “Well, the points were definitely different back then, so I don’t know if it’s an good comparison. I know Lewis won four races his rookie year, but I’d be very happy with my three.” 
Nico hummed. “Your race was magnificent. Want to tell us a bit about it? Especially that last overtake.” 
“Well Nico,” you started, “my brakes weren’t being very lovely.” 
You heard snorts from behind you from Max and Charles.
“Lock ups are always tough. I asked my engineer if I could pit for hards because if there was enough friction between my brakes stopping the wheels and then the circuit, I could heat the tyres faster. And then I kind of just went for it on the last corner. I really thought that I would lock up again and go straight into the barriers.” 
The blond could only let out a strangled laugh at the thought you just full sending it without having any caution to your wellbeing. You made him glad that he retired in 2016 because he would not be able to keep a calm heart racing against rookies who only had a mindset to win. 
Max snuck up behind you. 
“I told her that it was stupid and that she should never do it again.” 
You could only pout. 
“Why?”  
“Maybe so I don’t have to plan a funeral?”  
“But Max, I put the fun in funeral.” 
"nO!"
redbullracing has posted
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redbullracing always bet on red and navy - y/n l/n, 2024
liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, y/n_updates, and 1,382,309 others
y/n.nation THRID WIN THIRD WIN THIRD WIN
rookie&co the ride to the fountains with everything
leclerify_me ikr, now we have the big three: maxsplain, leclerify, and y/n-strate
box_box_express we need to call y/n the tyre whisperer along with Charles
red_bull_bros like who thinks to pit to hards and use the lock ups for benefit - she really is her own strategist
y/n.89 so glad I wasn't sprayed in the face, thank you Charlie
maxverstappen1 yeah...thanks Charlie 🙂 charles_leclerc yeah, I was aiming for your eyes, I want another win oscarpiastri GET IN LINE BEHIND THE ONES WHO HAVEN'T WON landonorris you good mate? oscarpiastri I'LL BE GOOD WHEN I GET MY OWN WIN y/n.89 chill shawty - it's coming 😌
formulala_delulu max and Charles >>>>>
author lestappen for ever formulala_delulu HUH?
mericanf1_fan wish Logan was on the podium for Vegas but I'll take p5 🦅
y/n.89 has posted
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y/n.89 🪩 what happens in Vegas....
tagged: lilymehe and alexandrasaintmleux
liked by arthur_leclerc, lilymehe, carmenmmundt, and 1,462,923 others
y/n.nation we're not even going to talk about the third picture...
arthur_leclerc hot damn 😳
y/nxarthur bro is done hiding rookiesboyfriend FINALLY y/n.nation is he in vegas?? max&co HOLD UP
maxverstappen1 kid...
y/n.89 yes Max? maxverstappen1 want to pick up your phone? y/n.89 no. maxverstappen1 PICK UP YOUR PHONE lilymehe uh, y/n can't come to the phone right now, she'll get back to you in 3-19 business days lewishamilton I fear this is bahrain again max georgerussell63 I'M NOT EVEN THERE THIS TIME
box_box_nightmare the dress, the disco balls, the chapel, lily and alex - I fear that Vegas has taken our girl
charles_leclerc Alex, amore, please tell y/n to text Max back...I'm nervous that he's going to have an aneurism
alexandrasaintmleux Alex can't come to the phone right now, she'll get back to you in 3-19 business days charles_leclerc OH COME ON - ALEX YOU TRY NOW alex_albon I'm smarter than that (lily said that y/n is texting max now) y/n.89 snitch 😒
formula_gossip twitter is saying that y/n did NOT get married in Vegas but was picked up by a random couple to be a witness to the marriage
y/n_fan THAT WAS ME AND MY HUSBAND! leclercbros God has his favorites
formula_fan she's going to be MASSIVELY hung over tomorrow
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2kmps · 1 month
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DARK POOL
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aquatic monster x reader | 18+ | 2.8k
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story summary; your granduncle explains that the noises at the bottom of the lighthouse and the missing chunk out of his leg are from swimming rats. you let him think you're a fool.
story warnings; some graphic depictions that some may consider gory, mentions of biting, mentions of rats, creature in captivity, explicit sexual content, double penetration (not safe), prose + detail heavy, implied breeding, not proofread.
if you enjoyed it, please reblog + interact!!
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Granduncle told you that the rats in Cape Tellis liked to swim and when they were in search of food, they didn't care how long they'd have to paddle through the water to find it. Some would simply drift with the current for days; black-gray fur rotted off, skin peeled off bone, little faces disfigured by sea and salt, but they would keep going until their bodies nudged the rust-red walls of the lighthouse and found the energy to scale upward to a window and squeeze inside.
He mentioned this anytime you had something to say about the ruckus down in the basement—sometimes scratching, sometimes powerful, erratic thuds that you felt pulse through the floorboards, through the rubber soles covering your feet, and into your skin. That place was sealed behind a rusted metal frame and door, deadbolted and locked with a key he always carried on a chain through a belt loop.
It always jangled when he walked because he had a limp so bad that his entire leg always dragged a pace behind him and took a great amount of effort to haul forward. When you had asked of it, as memory dictated a handful of years prior he didn't have such trouble, he first claimed it had been a bad sinus infection that got into his brain and disrupted something neurologically. In another instance where he had stopped for a third time on an evening stroll together, he had said he scuffed with one of Cape Tellis’ formidable rats and the mangy bastard had won and taken a chunk of meat out of him before scuttling back into the walls.
“Just ignore it, it's normal that they're active this time of year,” he was saying while scraping fried eggs out of a pan onto your plate. Meanwhile, you winced to the usual commotion downstairs. “They get real flighty this time of year. The rats do. They get frisky and chase each other all around. I don't know nothin' about them besides being persistent, ugly things, but it may well be their special season.”
You ripped a sharp edge in your toast and prodded the egg yolk until the sunny orb burst, oozing out across your plate before you could scoop it all up in the bread.
“How long does it take for the rats to go away?” you asked with some interest in his answer, if for no other reason to know what sort of yarn he'd spin next. The bread was buttered, the eggs unseasoned, but you ate it all anyway while watching him. “Are they permanent residents or do they come and go? You must be feeding them if they stay here.”
Granduncle took a long time to situate his bad leg under the table, longer to arrange his silverware and the direction of his food. “Oh, they have no interest in leaving, I don't think. If they really wanted to, I imagine they would've jumped back into the water and swam somewhere else.”
Each time the noises rose up between the wood slats under your feet during breakfast, granduncle told you not to worry about it, but you quieted every sound in your head to better hear rattling metal, reverberations of some sort—like having a man’s deep, anguished moan pressed right against your ribs. You weren't sure what you were looking for when you listened, only that you knew they were rats.
Granduncle looked at you, his appetite pushed away towards the center of the table with his plate. “Let's go for a walk, yes? The rain won't come back for a few hours.”
When you did walk after a meal, granduncle would often have to lie down with his dead leg propped up on a short stack of pillows for a long while. It became something of a habit of yours to exert him too much after dinner, forcing him to keep up with your youthfulness—your merry prances and unburdened soul.
For what it was worth, he did the best he could to never be a hindrance. He didn't seem to fully understand his own limitations either, making it quite a simple thing to steal the key from his belt loop while he slept—deep and silent, so much so that you needed to drop a tissue over his face from make sure he was still breathing—and unfasten the lock to descend a set of slick, stone stairs.
There wasn’t much to at the bottom; a space half-flooded from seasonal rains raising the sea-level, old pieces of ship equipment hanging like ornamentation, an old folding chair that had yet to rust despite damp air, and a large hole in the ground that was dark like the throat of a nightmare envisioned in the most precious hours of night.
You held a plate of raw meat, freshly thawed from the freezer, outstretched with a flickering lantern in your other hand. Anywhere else, you'd have just brought a flashlight—but, he didn't like the bright lights, had ripped the last one out of your hands and smashed it against the wall. Oil lanterns were better tolerated, but he still seemed to cower from the gentle flickers.
So, you placed the meat on the seat of the folding chair and walked closer to the hole, wading a hand through seawater until touching braids of cold metal, chains pulled taut as though weighted down by an anchor. You gave the closest one a tug, always with the same caution as a child gripping his mother's clothes in uncertain times, and backed away.
He never made noise when he surfaced, always frightfully quiet, only indicated by a trail of bubbles that followed after where he roamed underwater. The first thing to emerge was a dorsal fin flared proudly from the middle of his head until midway in the deepest curve of his back. His eyes were on you, abysmal black things with a luster you likened to a landbound fish, and skin and scales that moved stiffly with his facial movements.
“You,” said the creature, toneless and in a voice far too raspy and deep to have an equal match amongst human men. “You have come. You are here.”
Months ago, he hadn't been capable of simple speech such as this. The noises he made were incompatible to anything you had ever heard—perhaps mere vocalizations he utilized underwater, possibly something long gone and archaic—but he had started mimicking you when you'd speak, and eventually you started slowing down, giving him the time to feel how the sounds vibrated in his own throat.
“I brought you food, again.” You gestured towards the seat with raw meat with your lantern, prompting his passing glance of interest before he was back on you. “Not hungry? He usually doesn’t feed you that well. I haven't been down here in a week or so, so I figured you'd be ready to scarf it down.”
“No.”
He came closer and the size of him grew, a towering figure with strong, broad-shoulders and a chest built to withstand the friction of the sea he used to own. His face, although hidden in darkness and flickering shadow cast from your lantern, gleamed as the light struck his iridescent scales. The shape of his lips were human-like yet taut, helping to comfortably fit his sharp teeth inside his mouth.
You'd wondered at times what exactly he was, what your granduncle believed him to be and feared so much to hide him away, chained to a wall. You fantasized that he could be the lost prince of some underwater civilization, or the offspring of several thousands of years of evolution between humans and something else.
He never seemed to understand you when you asked him what he was.
“Come,” his reach was limited by the chains that bound his limbs, keeping him shy of touching your body. “Come to me.”
With the lantern set aside, a distance you hoped wouldn't turn him petulant, you walked in his arms and the shackles and made home there as he surrounded you. His embrace was not the sort you could escape, nor was the kiss he pressed against your mouth.
There were parts of him you were too scared to touch, where his scales were like serrated teeth and he had much less control to retract at will like the dorsal find along his back. His lips were smooth and cold, however, a safe place for you to be on his body along with the hard flesh on his chest.
He pushed himself into your touch as your fingertips traced the shape of his torso, rose with the sprawl of his breasts and shoulders, molded into the ridges of his lower abdomen that you felt pulse and tense the further downward you roamed.
The sheath around his groin had swelled significantly and seemed to twitch when you smoothed your hand across it, kneading it gently to see what would come of doing so. You'd seen this only once before several months ago, a time where you'd been more frightened of him and fled from the basement for weeks when he'd acted more aggressive than usual.
It was one of the many things he had taken notice of that were perceived negatively—with fear and distance and shutting him away in this deep dark until you found the courage to feed him again, because your uncle was petrified along with being restricted in his ability to navigate the stairs with his lame leg.
So, he had learned to behave at the worst of times to keep food supplied, for you to stay wrapped up in him like this and so curious to challenge the extent of his self-restraint.
His kiss had grown full-bodied and restless and gone elsewhere on your body to a great expanse of skin. His face nuzzled into the fabric hiding your warmth from him, teeth tearing and fraying the threads that kept your clothes together until you stopped him.
“Stop—wait, wait, wait.” You walked back out of his arms once he was able to recognize the words. He reached for you despite the clattering bonds around his wrist, but you took your time to shuck the clothes from your body and fold them.
Once he had you back, he led you to the edge of the pool of endless depths and sank down inside of it. Your toes touched the very edge of darkness, stirring a rabble of butterflies in your gut that did not dissipate even once he resurfaced.
“Sit.” He gestured right at where you stood. “Sit down.”
The idea of having any part of your body submerged in the black water left you with little desire in continuing this, but you obeyed and slowly lowered your rear to the rim of the pool, legs speckled by goose pimples as the cold water gripped up to the inside of your thighs.
“Yes, good.” He was close enough to push your thighs wide apart and stick his tongue inside of you. You took in a great sucking breath, startled from the suddenness of it and the long, articulate appendage massaging a part of you in a way no one ever had before.
You leaned back on your arms when they weakened and shook from the sensations, eyes flicking towards the drab ceiling, wondering just how far under the living quarters of the lighthouse you actually were and whether granduncle would hear any lewd sounds that were beginning to hum in your throat.
“Keep going.” He said when you moaned, tongue retracted from your body to mimic the ministrations you made with your hand and fingers while you stroked yourself. “Keep doing it.”
He nudged your hand away to put his mouth over that stimulated spot instead, sucking and licking along you with such fervor that you dissolved into hard pants and whimpers, tempted to close your thighs around his head and push him away as the tight warmth inside of you flushed out with a kaleidoscopic burst of color and cool air following the trail of something slowly oozing out of you.
It took a second orgasm and chanting turned to cries to get him off of you. That brief respite ended when he took you by the waist and dragged you into the pool with him. By that point, you were too far spent to have anything but unshakeable indifference to the depths and the cold.
His kiss was as it had been before, rough and restless, forceful in a way that left you malleable and melting against him. Even when he had your front wedged between the rim of the pool and his chest, you couldn't bring yourself to react much.
You felt his thighs mold to the back of yours before the slim tip of his cock pushed into you, the girth of it thickening considerably at the base. The friction of the water wasn't an obstacle for him to fuck into you with greedy thrusts that threw your hips forward, knocking skin and bone against the wall of the pool.
“Oh, oh, oh, oh—” the ridges of his cock were an unusual feeling, catching your walls in spots, spreading you wider when he'd withdraw part way and plunge back inside. “Oh, shit—feels good. Harder. Harder. Harder!”
There was truly never any way to know how much he understood when you said it, something called into question when his thrusts slowed to a stop, but he stayed hard inside of you. For a moment, the water settled along with your heavy breaths and blood gushing through your ears.
Things slowly came back into focus—the dancing lantern light, the room temperature meat, the wicked water in which you were immersed to the waist while the rest of you was braced by him.
He shifted behind you, adjusting his thighs so yours went even wider. Before you could ask the things you wanted to, a new sensation stole your breath—the swollen head of a second cock, different in shape and size from the first, pushed into you and lay flush atop the other.
“Don't—don’t move.” You were struggling to do the same thing with such an enormous stretch you'd never had to accommodate before. Tension built in your throat, whether a sob or a scream or your own anxiety, and stayed there to cinch your voice into silence.
He soothed you with lips and teeth all over your flesh; the back of your neck, the cartilage of your ears and the underside of your jawbone. His large hands left the shelf of your hips and felt along your front side, nipples, chest, stomach, and groin where he tried to recreate the same pleasure on you now as you had done for yourself earlier.
“Good?” He nested his cocks deeper when he heard you moan. The pain of it was beginning to subside, but the strangeness of it remained. “Is it good?”
"Just—just don't hurt me.”
His hands were back on your hips to keep you seated on his thighs while he thrust into you. It wasn't as easy for him to move as it was before, perhaps realizing the limitations of a human companion, but continued in snappy pulses that made the water lap at the skin on your back and turned your thoughts into senseless, garbled things.
Soon enough, you were riding a sloppy, savage rhythm to which you had no control of whatsoever as he chased his end. In moments where he seemed to regress into a natural state, almost animalistic in the way he rutted into you and buried his cocks, one would slip out and go forgotten for a time. The length of it glided against your groin, a smooth motion underwater that prodded your sore spots before he was able to fit it back into place with the other.
Amid your luscious sounds were those of his own; labored, air-sucking rasps that rumbled from places more than just his throat. They were probably never meant to be heard above the surface of water, just as he didn't belong fucking a human while being chained to a wall.
You thought about that fact while the last thrusts he took seated his cocks so deep that you ached, hard surges of warmth flooding your insides in a way unexpectedly delightful. He clung to you with his arms and shackles even well after he had emptied himself in your body and retracted both cocks into their sheath.
After a while, he hoisted you out of the water and followed you to retrieve your clothes. He stopped short of the chains pulling in the wall, watching while you wiped away the remnants of him oozing down the backs of your thighs and redressed.
“Don't go.” He kissed you and let his cold lips linger over yours. “Stay here.”
You returned the affection as endlessly as he gave it, only thinking that sunrise would soon come to pull you apart.
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a/n: not my best work, but hopefully passable. it's really helpful when y'all reblog, so please do so!!!
I don't really have any comments on this because I'm starting over from zero on the long-fic of the aquatic monster story bc I hated what I had lmao.
anyway, please keep in mind that is a concept piece. chances are that none of this will be present in the actual long-fic. this just helps me to explore ideas and familiarize myself with characters.
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anonymityisfunwriter · 3 months
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"Slut!"
Pairing - Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader Summary - It was perfect. Lovelorn and nobody knows. Love thorns all over this rose. You almost forgot just how hard the fall back to reality is. But if they call you a slut, it might be worth it for once.
Steve Rogers Masterlist | Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist
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"She goes through guys like a train-"
You immediately change the channel. The next one isn't better. You don't know why you thought it would be.
"The Stark last name and the long list of ex-lovers, that's her claim to fame. I mean, let's be honest here, she's a slu-" The tabloid reporter is abruptly cut off as the screen before you goes dark.
You look up to find Steve with the remote in his hand. He glares at the screen like the reporter was still talking, "You shouldn't be watching that."
"I'm used to it."
"You shouldn't be. It's despicable. They were - the things they're calling you-"
"A slut," you finish for him.
His eyes dart to you, that furrow between his eyebrows getting deeper and deeper with every word spoken, "It's not true. This isn't journalism, it's slander."
You weren't sure how this happened. Sure, it was only a matter of time before they found you out. This wasn't the first time. Not the second or the third either. If the press was to be believed, you were love sick. Love struck with a new man every week.
It wasn't the first time someone called you a slut. It certainly wouldn't be the last.
You stopped living your life in fear of what people would say a long time ago. Being this young was an art. And up until now, you thought you mastered it.
It was simple. You even had your rules. You followed them and no one got hurt - or at the very least, it minimized the damage.
They were going to stare at you. Strangers. Press. The flashing cameras. It came with being a Stark. If they're going to look, you gave them something to look at. You didn't so much as step out on the street with a single hair out of place. You were flawless. Always.
You were nineteen, and on the heels of a breakup with your second ever boyfriend, the first time someone spit that word at you - "slut!" It hurt, but it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would. It almost made you laugh. You realized that they didn't really care about your love life or about the trail of broken hearts you were supposedly leaving behind. They wanted a spectacle. They wanted a show. If you're going to be drunk, might as well be drunk in love.
It was easier after that. You knew the truth. The people around you knew the truth. You let everyone else believe what they wanted. You did what you wanted. You lived your life without worrying about being called a slut. They were going to call you one anyway. And if they call you a slut, you might as well make it worth it.
You gave just enough to keep them satisfied. Never anything too real. Never too much. Just enough that they wouldn't dare peak behind closed doors. Just enough to be able to live your life.
There were was a cost, of course. No one took you seriously. You dealt with the vague humiliation of the rumors constantly swirling about your hips and thighs and whispered sighs.
And though you inherited the Stark genius, no one cared about what you thought, what you had to say.
In that, the reporter was right, your love life was far more interesting than your thoughts on quantum mechanics or the military industrial complex. That was what you were known for.
For the most part, you were okay with it. You were willing to pay it all.
That was until you fell in love with Steve Rogers. Suddenly, you weren't willing to give them crumbs. You weren't willing to expose a love that felt this delicate.
You sit on the couch, huddled in your sweatpants, pensively staring at the blank screen.
This time, it was different. This wasn't a show, not a spectacle. It was real, an exposed nerve that the world decided was fair game. You were fair game and it was open season.
Steve settles beside you, draping an arm around your midsection. He kisses your temple, "Tony thinks it's probably best that you lay low for a while."
"Yes, well, my brother is the expert on PR damage control."
It wasn't the same though. You both knew it. Tony had done far worse with far more women. Yet, he would never pay the price you were paying in this very moment.
Steve's arms tighten around you like he's shielding you from the storm, "It's not right. It's not fair that you're being forced to sequester yourself. You're being punished but what exactly was your crime?"
"I fell in love with Steve Rogers, that was my crime." You fell for the man everyone wanted, the man who was in the wrong place at the right time.
"I'm sorry," he whispers against the crown of your head.
"For what?"
"You warned me this would happen."
It was true. You told him exactly what would happen, but even you didn't anticipate exactly how bad things would get.
You'd been with Steve for just under a year. And up until a week ago, only a select few knew. You both agreed to keep it a secret from the public. You felt protective over the love you shared, it was more real than anything else you'd ever had. You wanted to keep it to yourself, out of the hands of people that would tear you both to shreds without a second thought.
Steve felt the same. Though he was more worried about the enemies he made over the years.
It made sense to protect the relationship, to protect yourselves until you were both ready. You wanted to protect him from what you knew was lurking around the corner. Steve was still so new to the 21st century. Dating in the public eye wasn't easy. Dating a Stark wasn't easy. For almost an entire year, you used every publicity trick in the book - and it worked.
But then, you heard it, the whispers, rumors bubbled about your newest future ex-lover.
You only agreed to going public because everyone told you it was time, because they promised that the timing couldn't have worked out better than this. It was better to do this on your own terms than have it leaked.
No one knew how bad it would get.
"Are you sure? There's no going back after this," you whisper, standing in the hallway of your apartment. You could practically hear the cameras flashing outside your apartment. You'd never been this nervous to leave your apartment before. You'd been through the plan a million times. You'd be exposed to the cameras for a matter of seconds. Happy was already waiting with the door to your SUV open, ready for you to jump in. You'd walk outside holding Steve's hand - a sort of silent announcement to the world. "It won't be easy."
"I don't care," Steve promises, kissing the palm of your hand. "I'm tired of hiding. I'm proud to call you mine."
You tenderly stroke his cheek, "And if it blows up in your pretty face?"
He smiles down at you, "You're worth it."
"We'll pay the price, I guess." But deep down, you know. You'll pay the price, he won't.
The cameras had never been that loud before. Even though your announcement went off without a hitch, even though your publicist couldn't have been more pleased, not even they could have predicted how bad things would get.
It seemed like the whole world was calling you that four letter word.
At first, it was mostly online. People were mean, you knew that. You were prepared for nasty comments. Steve's most staunch supporters thought he could do better. People rejoiced in the spectacle your love life turned into. You were a laughing stock all over again. All that you were prepared for. Then some rabid fans leaked your phone number.
You decided that it would be a good time to disconnect anyway.
But it didn't end there. Not even close.
The day after you were expected to make an appearance for a charity you founded. It was just a quick 2 minute speech. And though the event had been throughly vetted, you'd never forget the way your blood ran cold when mid-sentence someone screamed that four letter word over and over again until security dragged them out. You continued until your speech was done, but there was no hiding the way your hands trembled.
From what you heard, the video was still making its rounds online.
You were expected to make an appearance two days after that. An event honoring your father. An event you poured your blood, sweat, and tears into to make sure it was impeccable, an event worthy of honoring your father. The same event you were practically uninvited from.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's just me. I come in peace," Tony jokes.
"I'm glad," you sigh. "I was worried I was going to have to get another number."
Tony sighs into the phone, "How are you holding up?"
"I've been better."
"I'm afraid I don't come bearing good news."
"What now, Tony?"
"That event you had Friday night, the one for dad?"
You pinch the bridge of your nose. You already knew were this was going. "What about it?"
"They want me to take over for you."
You bitterly scoff, "This week just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"
"You say the word and I'll tell them to fuck off."
"No, don't do that. It's for dad."
"You planned this whole thing single-handedly. You deserve to be the one up there." You don't say a word. He's right, you both know it. It doesn't change the situation you've been put in. "You are still going, right? Come on, you have to go."
"They broke into my house, Tony."
"What? Are you okay?"
"Happy just told me," you explain, sparing Tony the most gory details. "The one in L.A. Apparently, it is now covered in spray paint. You wanna guess what they wrote?"
"Where was your security?" Tony demands.
"Here. Trying to keep people off my sidewalk."
"I'm so sorry."
"I just - I don't think it's a good idea. At least until I get more security."
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad you've got Steve there. At least I know he'll keep you safe."
You almost smile. Tony was never his biggest fan, but you mostly credit that to him being an overprotective big brother. And the situation you'd found yourself in did nothing to win Tony's over good graces, "It's not his fault, Tony."
"It kinda is, but I digress. Listen, we'll figure this out, alright? I'll go streak in front of the Tower if that'll take some heat off of you."
And though you effectively doubled your security in the last two days, nothing would change anyone's mind about you. You were the villain tainting their hero.
You broke down after that call, violently sobbing against Steve's shoulder. He just pulled you in even tighter.
It reminds you of why you're doing all this. So you can be together, out in the open. That in a world of boys, he's a gentleman.
You squeeze his hand, "You're worth it."
"I'm not worth having your reputation torn to shreds."
And maybe they're right about you. Maybe you do get love struck. Maybe his eyes are like the world's strongest liquor, and it went straight to your head. Maybe you do get love sick. Sure, your life has momentarily fallen apart. It's magic, madness, heaven, and sin, all rolled into one. But if they're going to call you a slut, it might be worth it for once. "But what if all I need is you?"
Steve Rogers Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist
As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛
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totothewolff · 4 months
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The Lonely Hearts Party
Toto x reader fem!merc!employee, boss|Toto, Valentine's Day | Fluff, romance, and comedy.
Summary: For weeks now, you have been receiving the most gorgeous flowers every Wednesday morning at your desk at the Brackley Headquarters, as a mysterious admirer seems so in love with you. The entire factory, your besties at work, and you all wonder who he is. Could it be the one you truly wish for? Author's note: Happy Valentine's Day to all of you! Send you lots of love. Masterlist: Here
The most beautiful flowers have been arriving at your desk every Wednesday morning for almost a month now. Every week, as you reach your office in the early hours, they are already in place to welcome you. 
You love smelling them; they are always fresh and sweet-scented, and you love to look at them even more.
You feel a rush of excitement to read the handwritten note that always comes attached, filled with a different poem paragraph each time, something along the lines of "She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that's best of dark and bright."
Every girl in your department finds it so romantic, the mysterious admirer, but you and your besties at work, Rose and Oliver, who work in the same station that you, joke about finding it a bit creepy. 
"The Creepy Flower Guy" is a nickname you came up with to refer to him as an inside joke, being the three of you true crime enthusiasts.
—Maybe it's one of those garden gnomes HR placed outside —Oliver jokes as he finishes eating his scrambled eggs after you told them about the new Lilacs you received that morning at the breakfast quick break. —Perhaps he fell in love with you by watching you walk past —he jokes.
The hilarious idea of a tiny plastic guy sneaking into the headquarters, wearing his little red hat and fast feet to get incognito to your office, and on his tiptoes, placing the flowers on your desk makes you giggle.
You have to give it to HR this time; those gnomes were a great addition to the garden's pond; every time you sit on the benches near it, you enjoy the new scene the mechanics or engineers put together every few days, having fun moving the gnomes around or placing them in the funniest scenes, even someone during winter knitted them Christmas sweaters.
—Or maybe one day we'll find you dead on the floor, poisoned in your desk after inhaling azaleas for too long —Rose adds with the most casual tone as she bites her sandwich.
—Or you go missing! Kidnapped at the parking lot by "The Creep" —Oliver adds. 
—GUYS! —Ava turns around after overhearing the conversation; she is sitting at the same long table in the cafeteria, not getting your usual dark humor, a bit concerned, and creeped out. —You three need to cool it down with those goddamn crime podcasts!
—NEVER! —all of you answer at the same time.
—You freaks!
As you all finish breakfast, in a rush because the "off-season" is always the busiest time at the factory, you ask out loud. —Who do you think it is? 
—It's evident! It's... —Grace from the control room team starts saying.
—Lewis Hamilton! —and she finishes along with the other five people on the table now. 
Oh, the classic joke.
The entire table burst into laughter. It's a common joke to do about Lewis since almost every family member or friend thinks that working in the Mercedes racing team instantly makes you Lewis's best friend and that you always hang out with the guy, which couldn't be further away from reality. 
Most of you only see him in corporate gatherings or pass by from building to building, usually on his way to the simulator or in the hallways on a lucky day. 
He is always sweet and polite with the team and staff but quite distant; he still is Lewis fucking Hamilton. Unless you are part of his immediate team or Toto's, you get that privilege reserved for the key players only. 
Even so, almost everyone has a Lewis or Bottas story, and ALL of you have Niki's anecdotes cause that man is bonkers and a LEGEND. 
Most of them go hilarious as all of you try to act human around them, like the one Oliver has where he bumped into Lewis one day as Oliver was getting out of the bathroom and Lewis was on his way in, offering him a completely wet hand to introduce himself, which Hamilton noticed and sweetly and quickly patted Oliver on the shoulder with a "nice meeting you, man" and quickly got in.
—REAL theories only, guys! —you address the table. —Is my life a joke to you all? —you mess around, getting on your feet and closing the lid of your topper. —Please don't answer that.
-
Another week goes by, and a new stunning bouquet arrives. 
—Oh, how exquisite! That man is so into you. Those blue mophead hydrangeas sure are expensive! —the receptionist points out to you because you are a total flower ignorant who only goes: "Oh, pretty, colorful, smell cute" without giving it much thought. 
Most of the time, you have no idea what you are looking at, but you have fun googling it and trying to decipher; in your defense, no one has pampered you like this before. 
You are brand new at the getting flowers game.
-
The following week, a couple of bets start happening at the building as the word spreads, and many wonder who the mysterious guy is. 
Some think it's not a guy but a girl, as one day after a meeting, as you all are leaving, one of the engineers approaches you and makes the clever remark that the attention to detail about the type of flowers, the color palettes, and the scented notes is too much for a simple guy. —Either he is getting advised, or it's not a guy! Maybe you could obtain a reference from the company that delivers it.
This entire thing feels surreal and truly takes you by surprise since you have always considered yourself the most average girl, especially in looks and more so in the sea of beautiful blondes working at Mercedes.
Which, for some weird reason, reminded you of when you dropped your resume after one of your buddies from college - who still works there at the machine shop - gave you the heads up there was a job opening that suited you perfectly; he even had to insist you a couple of times, because you were almost sure they wouldn't give you a callback. 
To your eyes, Mercedes was one of those companies that cared about looks or looked for a specific ethnic type; it turns out you judged too soon; they care about skills, productivity, and professionalism, too, and it ended up being a bit more diverse than you expected the place to be.
It still has many areas for improvement, but it's become your favorite job ever.
-
By the end of the day, you wait for Rose to come out of her meeting to leave together, standing in the perfectly lit hallway leaning on the impeccable white wall; it's "Cheap Thursday" at your favorite local pub, and you two desperately need fuel to finish the heavy week, so nachos and a couple of pints sound like heaven.
After what feels like an eternity, a group of people comes out of the double doors by the end of the corridor facing you, and you catch a glimpse of a very hurried-up Toto getting out, too, looking handsome and elegant as ever.
You feel his dark eyes looking you up for the briefest moment, making you shiver and blush like a teenager in front of her crush.
Thank god he doesn't stop his pace and gets out of your view within seconds but leaves you distracted enough not to notice Rose approaching you till she is by your side, looking almost pale as a ghost, whispering in your ear. 
—I swear it's Toto's handwriting! I just saw him writing on the board for over an hour, and his calligraphy looks exactly like the one of "Creepy Flower Guy"!
—Come on?! Toto? Shut up! —a crackle comes out of your mouth, thinking it's the most ridiculous idea. —The billionaire smocking-hot boss falls in love with the average employee; what do you think this is? An 80s telenovela? Fuck off...
—Well, his handwriting is the same cursive style, and the "r" and "t" are almost identical —Rose starts to overexplain, trying to justify herself, looking timid and embarrassed now, and you instantly feel awful at your reaction.
—I'm so sorry, Rose, I overreacted; I tend to be too blunt! —you quickly wrap her into a hug.
—It's just that I have been seeing that calligraphy for a while now, and I found it freaky similar.
—Now, how can we make sure, Rose? Any ideas?
She shakes her head. —I'm not friends with his assistants or anyone on Toto's team.
—No one is friends with his assistants. I wouldn't be surprised if they turn out to be ex-MI5 agents or worked for the KGB —Rose starts to laugh hard, agreeing. —I think getting to the Prime Minister is easier than reaching Toto under their hands!
—You are screwed then. 
—Let's rule Toto out for the moment —you add.
—Yeah.
-
That night at your flat, a crazy thought comes to your mind as you brush your teeth; the wackiest thoughts tend to happen to you when you brush your teeth; you need to make yourself with a piece of paper handwritten by Toto to compare it with one of your notes.
You know Toto places sticky notes on the far wall inside his office; you have noticed those on your many and regular trips to the CFO's office as your boss always sends you to deliver the reports in person by the end of every week, always passing in front of Toto's office on you way there, which most of the time it's empty since he spends the year traveling, but you try to do your best when he is in, slowing your steps a little bit more to enjoy the view and fixing your appearance a little bit too before crossing in front of him. 
Still, his assistants are always at their front desk near there, making it impossible to sneak in. 
If only you could make it inside Toto's office without raising questions and with a good excuse. You laugh at the idea; it's wild and ain't going to happen, and if it does, your ass is getting fired. 
As the Mission Impossible cord from the ceiling scene comes to your mind, it's time for you to go to sleep.
-
As you anxiously roll from side to side of the bed, struggling to shut your brain off, you remember that Niki's surprise birthday celebration is scheduled in two weeks; you could volunteer to help organize the event and usher the people around, including Toto.
There is the slightest chance to make it to his office and take a quick photo of the sticky notes on the wall; it's borderline mental, but you really want to find out because Rose sounded so sure!
This is fucking insane. 
-
Two weeks, two new bouquets later.
When you finally reach the upper floor, where the "top-tier people work," almost everyone has left to get to the party on time. 
Being on time in Mercedes is a must, so there are few people you need to usher there.
You got accepted to join the Niki's celebration committee as a helper minion. Weirdly, it will be hosted in the base race of all places instead of the Silver Arrow Lounge, where most celebrations are usually held.
The decor is ready, the cake is at the counter, and the many photo props and snacks inspired by Niki's red cap are in place; even the catering and most of the people invited have arrived.
But Allison and Toto are nowhere to be seen, and the head of HR is on her nerves about it, thinking it could ruin the surprise or that two of the most influential people there are going to miss such an important event.
As you approach the bosses' offices area, you quickly search in the surroundings for them; it helps you that all offices have glass panel walls.
You venture to wander more, but nada, they are not there, and at this point, no one is there. As you return to the stairs, you pass in front of Toto's office once more. 
You just need to snap a quick picture. What could go wrong? No one is near to see you, and there are no cameras around since Toto dislikes that.
"Okay, Y/N, listen, it's just a couple of steps; you have your phone in your hand; it won't take more than a few seconds..."
You feel your body acting on its own and your feet slowly moving ahead. 
You gradually enter the luxurious and immaculate office.
"Okay, like four steps more, and I'm close enough to zoom in the picture." 
When you almost reach his desk and the perfect distance to snap the photo, you sense movement outside, fuck, fuck, fuck. You feel someone standing behind you, right at the door. 
Busted!
—Yes? Can I help you? —Toto's voice comes severe but calm.
You feel your heart in your throat as you slowly turn around. 
—Yes, you can! —you quickly reply, pretending to be looking at the cool helmets and steering wheels at the corner. Is it the best move your mind could come up with? Certainly not —...Sir... —you kind of finish saying, remembering he is the boss.
Toto stares at you, waiting for you to continue as you stand motionless in the middle of the room, looking straight at him. His eyebrows go up a little, and a tiny, amused smile forms on his lips as he moves his hand, gesturing you to continue.
—They are all waiting for you at the race base, sir... to start Niki's surprise reception. He is about to arrive. 
—And they sent you to get me?
—Yes —you feel the need to explain yourself more, feeling nervous. —Niki has no idea who I am, so I'm not blowing the surprise away if I bump into him on my way here! 
—Interesting... —he lets out gradually.
Oh god, Toto has no clue who I am either, right?
Fuck, I'm such an idiot!
—Oh, I, I'm Y/N —your brain starts working again as you quickly introduce yourself to him, offering him a hand to shake.
He looks even more perplexed at you but grabs it; it's awkward, and you want to crawl into a hole or hide beneath the expensive rug you are stepping on.
—We should get going; I have places to go, and I'm on a schedule today.
—Oh yes, of course, sir —you quickly exit his office as he closes its glass door behind you. Well, you literally pass below his muscular arm. 
Toto doesn't move much, so you squeeze in, almost brushing his body as you out, and he simultaneously closes the door, fuck, he is tall and smells so so so good.
-
It's a quiet walk downstairs; just the sound of your steps and breaths fills the room. You feel intimidated by Toto's presence, not used to having him that near you and being a shy-natured girl.
He seems to slow down his step, prolonging your agony. 
Should I say something? But what about? Work? Something casual? You assume he wonders the same since you feel his eyes on you every few steps, but he dares to break the ice before you can.
—So y..
—I'm To... Oh, sorry, go ahead —he says at the same time.
—Oh, no worries —you nervously place a strand of your hair behind your ear. He follows the movement of your hand with his eyes. —What were you saying? —you look straight at him, Jesus; he is way cuter up close; that's some strong jawline, you can't control your eyes going all over his features.
—That I didn't introduce myself upstairs. I'm Toto, by the way —he offers you a kind and unintentionally sexy smile.
You notice, a bit way too much, how all his traits soften and how relaxed and joyful he looks when he smiles.
It turns out that "The Creepy Employee Girl" should be your nickname now.
After perceiving him as less threatening, you joke around to make the air less awkward. —Really? I had no idea! I thought you were that Lewis guy everyone talks about! But nice to meet you Toto By The Way —you fool around.
He laughs a bit. —You never heard of me before? I guess I'm losing popularity around here nowadays!
—You must hang around more to be part of the "popular squad".
—Who holds the title right now?
—The gnomes.
—Oh, yes, they are quite popular.
—A bit too much, yeah.
As you two reach the entrance to the race base, he rushes his step to hold open the door for you, letting you go first; you feel his intense gaze follow you every step as you pass right across from him, making you feel things he shouldn't. 
Everyone who got invited is already there; the usually squeaky-clean and clear white counters now hold cups, party hats, bottles of champagne and sparkling water, delicacies, and a big red cap-shaped cake.
—Great! The boss is here! Please, bring Niki in —you hear the HR director speak through the intercom as she looks your way, sounding so relieved, and a minute later, all of you start cheering as Niki enters the room.
You expect Toto to instantly leave your side and go near the big names of the company and his precious stylish drivers, but no, he stays right next to you.
As Niki almost reaches you two, getting hugs all his way down, he comes closer to Toto first and says in a low voice, but you are still able to hear him. —Is the cake vegan?! —looking concerned before tightly and roughly hugging him, knowing they would call him to blow out the candles and bite the cake soon.
—No, sir, this time they brought Lewis his own cake —you inform him, getting in the conversation, as the two of them turn to look at you.
—Oh, thank god! I almost spit out last year's "fake" cake! Hi Y/N! I didn't notice you there! This mountain was on the way —he pats Toto's chest a bit too strongly. Niki makes a funny face, eyebrows going up, not sugarcoating around as usual but earnest and light-spirited.
You laugh, exhaling cute sounds; even you have to admit you have a lovely, infectious laugh.
—Hi sir, happy birthday!
How on earth does Niki know my name?! He knows who I am?! WHAT...
-
—...the fuck were you thinking?! —Oliver looks shocked and pale as you update him and Rose about your little adventure today. —You honestly thought it could be Toto?!
—Can a girl have a dream?! —you shrug as you keep typing violently on your computer, wanting to finish that notice as soon as possible to move on to the next task, starting to feel stressed.
—You could have got into serious trouble, like big trouble, like getting fired trouble —Rose says, dead serious. —I feel terrible for enabling you!
—I know it was reckless and stupid, really stupid! —you admit, feeling dumb now about your actions.
God knows what got into you!
-
The next day, on your way to the cafeteria for lunch, you sense something is going on; everyone is acting weird.
Until you enter the room to find Toto having his meal in there, alone at a table, aware of the looks he is getting.
What is he doing here? He usually goes out for lunch or eats inside his office.
The fuck.
He waves a hand at you; you look around to see if he is addressing someone else till he arches an eyebrow, slightly annoyed, so you hurry up to reach him.
—Well, you weren't wrong! By all the looks I received on my way here, and fairly now, it appears I don't hang around much —he invites you to sit, stretching his arm, pointing to the chair in front of his, before continuing. —It wasn't unusual to see me everywhere before; of course, it was the early days, and we were a smaller team back then —he almost looked sad and nostalgic about it.
—Look at you, man of the people!
—Eat your salad —he rolls his eyes at you as you get your lunch out.
—Is that like a boss order, or?
—Maybe, if I'm feeling moody. 
—So, I guess most of the old guard is gone?
—Are you low-hand calling me old?
—Well, how ancient are you?
—I'm almost 70 —he makes you smile and looks all pleased with himself and his dumb humor. —I know, I look good for 70!
—Who would have thought you had a sense of humor? You always look severe and bossy.
—Can you stop low-key insulting me?
—Neva'
-
After two weeks of having lunch with Toto and getting to know each other more every day, you two become friends; some days, a different person joins you; at some point, you can't believe you are sharing quinoa recipes with Lewis and comparing drinking pub stories with Niki.
—Is it me, or have you abandoned us, the peasants? —Oliver says to you when you return to the office.
—Oh, come on! You can join, you know that! He knows who you two are; we talk about you guys a lot, and he greets you daily!
—Now that you are part of the "big farts" table, hanging with the famous, why would you care about two random coworkers? —Rose overdramatizes.
—OH COME ON!
—Apparently, you don't care about the old and wise saying "Bros before hoes," —Oliver adds.
—Of course, I care about you two hoes. Please join us tomorrow. PLEASE?! —you beg them with the biggest smile and puppy eyes ever seen.
—Eating with the boss and talking to him? I'm not risking it! —Oliver says, dead honest, not trusting himself.
—He is trying to reconnect with the team; he isn't going to judge you! Besides, Toto knows you are my besties.
Two long "aw" come your way.
—That's so cute, but NO! —Rose ends the conversation.
-
As you admire the new bouquet of tulips you get delivered the next day, your phone suddenly buzzes on your desk, distracting you from finishing updating the chart with the latest data.
—Lunchtime already? 😩🥙
—Who this? 👀
—Luke, I'm your father.
—He dead 🙏🌫️
—Oh, shit, sorry! Bad joke!
—💀💀💀
—There's no need to be that explicit.
—It means dying of laughter!
—Oh, shit, I'm old, it's Toto By The Way.
—I'm saving you with that name! How did you get my number?
—By boss privilege.
—YES! LET'S LUNCH PLEASE! I'm Hungarian.
—What?
—Typo sorry, hungry!
—HA! See you in five! 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️
-
—Could going to lunch with someone at the cafeteria be considered a date? —you turn around in your office chair to address Oliver.
—Dreaming is free, bestie!
-
On your way to meet Toto, you bump into the most annoying senior engineer, Mr. Schäfer, in the corridor. 
OH GOD! Please don't talk to me, please don't talk to me, you think as you two cross paths, but sadly, you notice him stop his step after making eye contact with you.
—Miss, Y/LN. A minute?
SHIT!
-
—Sorry I'm late! "Gwen Stefani" got me on my way here!
—Who? —Toto looks at you, amused and confused.
Shit! You burped out.
—Ahem, Mr. Schäfer —you quickly correct, taking your water bottle out of your bag and drinking it after rushing there. Toto stares at the couple of drops that escape your lips and slide down your chin and neck, and he swallows hard.
—What did you call him? —Toto asks, clearing his throat.
—Oh, don't mind me!
—Yes, mind you! It's a pretty accurate nickname, I must admit it, even if I shouldn't, but it fits —Toto shrugs nonchalantly, with a chuckle on his face. 
Schäfer is really pretty, lean, blond, pale, has big bambi's brown eyes, and his voice is so annoying.
And now you feel embarrassed.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, as you two eat, Toto says: —Do I have a nickname?
—Oh, no, no one dares.
—Why? Do people fear me? —his expression changes to one of concern. —Maybe that would explain why people always seem to slow down their pace in the main corridor as soon as they see me inside the elevator. I always try to press the hold button to wait for them.
—This leaves me with a question: How do you fit in there? Your hair sure is touching the ceiling —he looks at you with an "Are you kidding me?" face. —No, for real!
—Don't avoid the actual question!
—Okay, okay, it's more like you intimidate. You look a bit, ahem, stern.
—Really? So, that was your first impression of me?
—Well, not really —you feel your cheeks turning red, fuck. —The first time I saw you, IRL.
—Sorry?
—In real life! You were being interviewed at the reception on that pearl/grey, awful porn movie-esque rug, which is inappropriate to say because the interviewer was a kid; anyway, It was something adorable to see. So that was my first impression of you, sweet and kind —his eyes soften at your answer, and you feel your knees touching beneath the table. —And also well lit —you joke. 
As you do your best at not being honest and admitting to Toto, you fell in love with him the first time you saw him. It was instant.
—Oh. 
-
Another week goes by, February starts, and the most stunning bouquet to this moment arrives. Okay, this one is a lot. 
—Good lord, "Creepy Flower Guy" went full force with this one; what did you do to him?! —Rose asks, jaw on the floor as she stares at that humongous thing.
—I have no fucking clue.
—You think he is about to reveal himself? —Oliver points out. —Maybe this is a "going out with a BANG!".
—Honestly, I don't care much about it anymore —you admit. You feel several heads turning your way, shocked.
"It's not who I would like it to be," you think. You don't need to say more to know that Oliver and Rose get it.
-
That working day was cut short since it was the Monster-sponsored "Spartan Race," a cross-fit competition. 
Many coworkers listed at the contest held outside on the garden grounds where a fancy circuit got built, but not you. You volunteered to help deliver the medals to the participants at the finish line.
In the meantime, you take a good spot with Oliver to watch the competition unfold and cheer for Rose.
—You go, Rambo! —you scream at her as she completes another obstacle course.
You watch Toto pass in those goddamn shorts, looking so hot, all sweaty. Toto's shirt's tight fabric on the skin leaves little to the imagination.
You meet him at the finish line an hour later, as you are now doing your duty. As soon as he notices you, he starts to jog in your direction with the most mischievous smile.
—Oh no, no, no! Don't you even...! —you receive the biggest and tightest hug from a sweaty, wet, and full of dirt and mud Toto.
—OH GOD! Get off! —you pull him away, making yucky faces.
—I was hoping to bump into you at the circuit! —he tells you, still with a lot of energy, as you place his gold medal on his neck, he is bending to your height.
—I'm not that sporty; you would have to drag me to the finish line.
—I would have gladly carried you around in these powerful arms! —he jokes while flexing.
You roll your eyes at him.
-
The next day, at your desk.
As you blast the newest episode of your favorite crime podcast, Rose and Oliver start making eye contact with you, trying to grab your attention, moving their eyes several times to the left as you take out your AirPods.
—WHAT?!
—Sure, those things cancel noise! I have spent about an hour trying to talk to you!
Oh shit, you jump a little at the sound of Toto's voice near your ear.
—Were you listening to a murder podcast? At work?! You are going to hurt your ears; I was able to hear it from here —Toto is leaning on the left side of your desk.
—Maybe... I was... —you look at him with squinted eyes, and he looks back at you the same way.
—What is that thing?! —Toto says, a bit disgusted at the exuberance, pointing to the enormous bouquet beside your computer.
—It's a long story —you try to avoid the subject.
—I want to hear it when I return. I will not join you at lunch today or the rest of the week.
—Bummer, where are you going then? —you turn in your chair to face him.
Everyone looks at you with a "Did you really ask the boss that?" face.
—Austria, It's my mom's birthday.
—Aw, sweet, wish her a happy birthday for me!
—I will —you look at each other tenderly, both wanting to say more. You suddenly feel the desperate need to hug Toto, but a simple: —See you next week, then! —comes out of your mouth, ending the interaction.
-
It's almost Valentine's Day, and Toto has returned from his little adventure in the mountains; he laughs when you text him that. You two talked even more than usual every day during his absence.
So you text him if you could go up to his office.
—Knock, knock —you say as you pop your head in at his door.
He brightens as he sees you, fully smiling at you, making your stomach feel butterflies. 
—Please, come in!
You approach his desk, holding something in your hands; it's an envelope with an invitation in the old-fashioned way. —Hi! —you smile big at him. —I have the obligation to invite you to the traditional "Lonely Hearts Party" on Valentine's Day!
—No one wants the boss at an outside-the-office party —he looks at you a bit taken out.
—Yeah, I know, we know. But still, you are invited. It's for singles only, assuming that you are single, which no one thinks you are, so here —you feel Toto's hand touching yours as you deliver him the envelope, leaving you with a lingering sensation on your fingers, a very Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy moment in your delulu mind.
—I'm going to be in Brazil, but thank you anyway, and yes, I'm single —he pays attention to your reaction to his words, and you pray for him not to notice the little happy smile forming on your lips. —Are you... are you like... seeing someone? —he asks you.
—I'm going to attend the Lonely Hearts Party, you think?! Listen, my neighbor, Miss Tailor, is 80 and has a boyfriend; even that old rag has seen more action than me this year!
Toto's palm goes onto his face, bursting with laughter; he is laughing so hard at your comment that no sound comes out of his throat, just hallows of air, and he goes all red, not believing your words. —You are quite something! —He lets you know and looks at you with adoration, his face resting on his hand and his elbow on the desk. 
—I know —you nod, kidding. —Anyway, have a nice day, and see you later!
-
During that day's lunch break, Toto demands you to explain to him in detail all about that "Creepy Flower Guy," he even ventures to guess who he is after listening to the whole story.
—Milo, Ben, and Ansel all have stared you down when you walk past in front of them, with lust obviously, and I heard Finn once complimenting your good looks to say it nicely —he informs you.
Is that jealousy you detect?
Toto does pay attention.
-
It's Wednesday, and your car is out in maintenance, so you make it extra early on that day at the office; you wanted to avoid risking it being late since you aren't used to using public transport to get there.
You make it just in time to witness Mike walking away from your desk inside your desert office through the glass panel wall from afar. As you walk to your chair, you notice new flowers are already in place. You feel your heartbeat going full speed and a wave of disappointment washing you over; what were you expecting, for it to really be Toto?
That entire day, you remain all moody and quiet, and your friends notice it, but you say nothing about it.
You even ask your boss to leave early, being unable to handle being near Toto today, which leaves him worried, judging by the four texts and two missed phone calls you received from him, wondering where you are and if everything is okay.
-
Four days later, you are like nothing has happened. As you walk your way to enter the building where you work, you notice Toto sitting alone in the distance, having a call; you slowly start to walk toward him, switching paths.
He finally has returned from his trip to Stuggart.
—Well, the "Creepy Flower Guy" saga has come to an end, my friend; I found out who he is —you inform him, unenthusiastic, as you sit on the bench in the pond's garden right next to him.
—You don't seem so excited —Toto's eyes look slightly concerned as he tells you.
—Well, no, to be honest.
—Drumrolls —Toto says, trying to lift your spirits, slapping his thighs, making the sound. —And the creep is?!
—Mike, from financial.
—Magic Mike?! —Toto lets out a bit too loud.
—Yep!
—Are you sure? Like 100%? But how?!
You nod. —I saw Mike near my desk in the early hours a couple of days ago, and the flowers were there as he was walking away from the crime scene! Also, by the drawer full of flower receipts at his office desk. They all match the types of bouquets I received and have the exact dates.
—Are you creeping around in people's offices again?
—WAIT A MINUTE! I wasn't creeping into your office! 
—Oh no? What were you doing near my desk? Looking for Niki's cake?
—Shut up! I was looking for you. 
—Yes, I love to hide myself in there —Toto playfully and softly pushes you. 
—And NO! I wasn't creeping around in Mike's office; Anita sent me to get the notice she needed, and I went there; it turns out Mike was on holiday, but he left the instruction to collect it from the drawer on his desk, and then I opened the wrong drawer and BAMB! It was full of receipts and bills from the flower company that delivered my flowers. Not to be nosy, but Magic Mike is doing pretty well; I had no idea how expensive they were!
—Wait! But you aren't telling me! Are you into Magic Mike? Do you fancy him?
—No, not him, anyway.
Toto stares intensely at you and wants to say more. If you weren't so in the zone, you would have noticed it and given him a chance, but no, you continue blurting out words.
—But I will go and thank him, I guess. I don't want to hurt him; he is lovely. Everyone told me to go out on a date with him. I don't feel like it right now, but it's not always love at first sight, right? Maybe that doesn't even exist; I was expecting to fall in love, you know, movie style, but that may not be real, or at least not for girls like me. Besides, Valentine's Day is approaching, and I don't feel like spending it alone again —you let out a sigh after talking forever.
—Weren't you going to that Lonely Hearts Party? It sounds fun. It's better than going on a date with someone you don't like just to feel better —Toto tells you a bit moody.
—Oh god, I love you; you are always right; you are so annoying —you add while hugging and kissing him on the cheek. —Is there any chance I can fit in your suitcase for Brazil? I wouldn't mind spending Valentine's Day with a hot Brazilian or at the beach.
Toto laughs while shaking his head.
—I have to go! —you complain, checking the hour on your smartwatch. —Unfortunately, I have work to pretend to do! 
—Sometimes I feel you forget I'm the boss here —he jokes with you as he crosses his arms and watches you walk backward, still facing him, getting further away.
—YES SIR!
-
It's the Wednesday before Valentine's Day, and to everyone's surprise, the flowers stop arriving.
"Did Toto tell Mike I don't like him and to stop sending me flowers?" You take out your phone to text him.
—Apparently, even "Creepy Flower Guy" gave up on me.
—Really?! —Toto replies.
—Yes. No flowers today.
He gives you no further information, no replying text comes your way.
-
It's Valentine's Day, and you are wearing a shiny red mini dress with matching bow heels to the Lonely Hearts Party.
You took your time doing your makeup, which you feel you nailed, and your hair looks sleek. 
As you check yourself in the mirror, you feel confident and hot!
-
After several drinks and enjoying the music and the vibe, you relish the party, but your mind keeps wandering to the anticlimactic ending of the flower guy mystery.
The only crime and murder here was the one of your feelings and heart.
Two hours later, you start to feel bummed out enough after witnessing many hookups and new couples forming, slightly envious of them and feeling lonelier than ever, aching that Toto was here with you instead of Brazil. You decide you've had enough and are about to leave when you feel a soft finger tap on your right shoulder. You turn around to see who it is.
Definitely, you aren't ready for the scene that greets you.
Toto is standing right before you, holding a bouquet in his hands, looking extremely handsome, with a shy smile on his lips.
—What are you doing here?! —you look astonished at him. Am I that drunk?! Thinking you are seeing things now.
—I felt like delivering them to you in person from now on —he offers you the roses.
Your brain takes its time to process his words and what's happening. This is really happening.
—You are? —you try to say and instinctively grab the bouquet.
—The Creepy Flower Guy, yes.
You laugh at the sound of the nickname on his lips.
—Let's call him "flower guy" from now on.
—Yeah, let's call him Toto better, or my love, if you prefer. I hope you aren't as disappointed this time.
—But Mike? —you ask, confused.
—Have you ever heard of the terms invoice and tax returns? He does my accounting, too. Mike helped me deliver the flowers till I felt ready to show myself. He is a long friend of mine.
—That's why he had all the receipts; that makes sense. Wait!
You close the distance between Toto and you and place a kiss on his lips; getting on your tiptoes, he slowly and hungrily starts kissing you more, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, not letting you move an inch away from him.
—Thank you for the flowers, my love but weren't you supposed to be in Brazil by now? —you ask him as you both catch your breaths.
His lips are so soft and warm.
—Oh, I'm going to be in Brazil soon, but I forgot to mention to you that you would also be there. Happy Valentine's Day, my love! —he gives you another long and delicious kiss.
—Shouldn't I have packed? —you ask against his lips, already overthinking.
Toto shakes his head.
—We aren't going to need much clothes, anyway. -
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forzaferraris · 4 months
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NOTHING MATTERS — op81
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pairing: oscar piastri x fem! engineering intern! reader
summary: the best way to get over someone who broke your heart is to get under someone else and (unintentionally) break theirs. / inspired by nothing matters by the last dinner party, listen on spotify here !
style: primarily written with a single smau element at the end.
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, smut, unprotected sex ((p in v) please wrap it before you tap it)), oral (m! receiving) finger sucking, sub/don undertones but nothing serious, i swear on my life oscar piastri is a grunt and groaner but simultaneously considerably vocal during sex (i will die on that rock), afab! reader, readers kinda uncaring about who she hurts because she’s hurt, reader is referred to as she/her, miscommunication trope, oscar piastri has been in love with reader since the beginning of the season and just assumed one-sided pining. authors refusal to write with capitals, you can pry them out of her cold dead hands.
faceclaim: sofia dirado, although feel free to imagine reader as anyone else.
word count: 4.1k +
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YOU WERE NO STRANGER TO HEARTACHE.
you fear it followed you around more often than not, like a dark cloud that covered your entire existence in this bubble of heartbreak that nothing ever felt good to you, nothing was ever worth it. from your parents divorcing after years of suffering in a loveless marriage to every single relationship you’d ever been in never making past the first time you sleep together — you’ve genuinely felt about giving up on life, going so far as to consider a life as a celibate nun or maybe not, perhaps just the life of a girl who burns through multiple packs of AA batteries using her rose toy.
however, when you’d met levi, your first year of finally being allowed to leave the mclaren technology centre to shadow tom stalland during the 2023 f1 season. you genuinely thought this man had reshaped your entire perspective of love, he made love easy, made loving him feel less like a sport and more like a hobby you could never get sick of, being with hom felt like you’d been going through all the “firsts” all over again, like a cheesy romance movie monologue.
and yet, here you are, sat in your hotel room after the japan gp, suzuka has always been your favourite gp to watch and unfortunately for some reason, instead of standing in the mclaren garage doing your job, you’re sat clad in your team clothes (a stark contrast to the white bed linen) and sobbing over a text message paragraph explicitly telling you that levi has decided to break up with you after he fell in love with someone else during the summer break, someone who “rewired his brain chemistry in a ways you could never do.” you want to get angry, you wish you were an angry person, instead when you got angry you cried, when you got too happy or even just laughed too hard you cried, you were a crier.
your heart is heavy, as you scroll through the other woman’s posts, she’s gorgeous, and that’s where you begin your myriad of self deprecating comparisons of you to her. you doom scroll for what feels like forever until you spiral even further down the heartbreak rabbit hole, your attention drawn to the fact that levi had both unfollowed and removed you as a follower at some point between when he said goodnight and then broke up with you the next day. you watch as stories of their summer break spent together is shared and your jealousy sends you into a blind rage that you block the both of them; because ultimately you knew that he will hold her life he used to hold you — for levi was boring, a one trick pony you’re only just now coming to terms with.
your disheveled appearance and self imposed seclusion from the events of the day were not left unnoticed, you’d resigned yourself to just stand on the outskirts, occasionally moving to sit down and watch the screens as the friday practice begun, you’re uninterested, unmotivated and trying your dandiest to not cry, for the sole reason of simultaneously not wanting to draw unwanted attention to yourself and the fact that the mascara you’re bought at the duty free at the airport was most definitely not waterproof.
the good thing was that you’d be in japan for the rest of the weekend, the worse thing was you knew not s language lick of the language — sure you could probably call someone an idiot in japanese thanks to the sheer amount of one piece you’d watched eith levi during days he didn’t want to do anything you had planned or suggested; however, the single knowledge of know the word idiot in japanese will not get her very far. you’re almost too zoned out to notice the first free practice had finished, oscar’s team engineer tom standall dismisses you, tells you that whatever happened before you came to track is to be sorted out before it potentially jeopardises a race and without a word or argument against hai decision you shuffle out of the garage and into the paddock.
“name, hey wait — wait up” a voice you’ve only heard considerable muffled by a racing helmet and through large oversized noise cancelling team gear headphones when you got to play pretend engineer whenever it was during his practice laps and his qualifying laps, it sends a shiver up your spine, always has and you’re unknowing if it always will.
“oscar? hey! you did so good today, from what i say, p3 is so awesome how are you not more elated about that!” you’d found yourself smiling, wide across your face and sinking into the gentle rhythm of the conversation with oscar. the smile he returns is equally as wide as if his whole face were smiling, you want to punch him — the cuteness aggression playing devil on your shoulder.
“oh nah, i am actually it just hasn’t like kicked in gully yet, i’m waiting for the full body visceral reaction i’m about to have,” he pauses for a brief moment, hands itchy to fiddling with something snd find solitude in dragging one hand after the other through his tangled and sweaty hair. “like just, honestly, jesus christ and in japan of all places fuckin’ hell” he seems both simultaneously out of breath and ready to compete in a marathon.
had it not been a considerably formal setting you swore you can picture him jumping up and down on the spot whilst trying to contain all of his excitement, you allow him to be excited not wanting your own mood and misery to overshadow his complete and utter elation at his podium win. it’s the first time in the few days you’d been moping about that the smile you give off reaches your eyes and oscar’s always paying attention to these things, unbeknownst to you of course.
“your excitement is infectious, surely the team have planned something celebratory for you! you’ve gotta celebrate this i’m sure lando is!” you can’t help but practically beam, you’re mesmerised by the excitement the unashamed amount of happiness this boy is oozing and the bitter feeling in your stomach over it all is just barely going by unnoticed.
oscar shakes his head, overs a tiny shrugs and barely gets another word into the conversation you teo ate having before he’s whisked away by the team to be dragged off towards the podium, you watch as he shakes the bottle of champagne onto lando and max. any and all brief untouched moments of happiness are immediately replaced when your phones buzzes, a notification alert from your ring door bell and the video supplied of your now ex boyfriend grabbing whatever stuff he’d left at your apartment. the situation just breaks your heart even further than when with the whole of the mclaren team being called upon for s group shot with both the boys and their podium wins you ignore it and decided you’d had enough of it all.
the hotel’s quiet as you tap your keycard against the inside of your hand waiting for the elevator to come back down, the traffic from the track back to the designated hotel meant you’d wound up leaving just as all the other drivers had and whilst you weren’t in the mood to face anymore interactions you were lucky to bypass the small group of fans loitering in the hotel lobby. the elevator itself is slow, like most and the way your stomach drops at the incline is almost akin to how you felt when you’d first received that break up text at the start of the week.
if there was one thing you were thankful for, it was the fact the hotel had a bar just off the lobby, which is where you’d found yourself, skirt a little too short, shoes a little too high and too the perfect amount of booby that you won’t get in too much trouble but also attract someone willing to take away the ache in your chest for the night.
you’d been sat at the bar for just under an hour, occasionally chatting to some of the other patrons but mostly the bartender herself; the paper straw mushy and impossible to drink out of sits on a napkin as you sip on the glass uncaring or the lipstick mark on the rim or the smudging it does to your own lipstick — in fact you’re hoping something else smudges the lipstick further if the night doesn’t continue to progress as slowly as it is.
“can i get a beer, whatever you’ve got in the bottle and another one of what she’s drinking” there it is again, the chill on your spine and the heightened sense of the hand that brushes past your ear to give the bartender a bank card. every single nerve ending in your body is on fire when the stool beside you in moved and a body now begins to occupy it, perhaps you’re a bit drunk, you’d already had two of these and what if the different alcohol consumption laws you’re unsure how much alcohol is actually in the fruity little cocktail you’d ordered.
“oscar piastri, i thought i told you to go celebrate your podium with lando, why are you still at the hotel?” there is is, a tone you’d never thought you’d use with someone who wass essentially your bosses boss, which therefore makes him your boss, and yet here you are — sultry tone and lips loosened by the alcohol in your system, shamelessly flirting with him.
“well, you see, i’m more of a pub person than i am someone who prefers nightclubs and being touched and bumped into by random strangers, i fear that’s more of a lando thing than my own” oscar laughs, the way he’s relaxed and carefree shows signs he did however, get roped into pregaming with lando beforehand, the neck of the beer bottle sits between his index and middle fingers, a comfortable position one you're sure would feel weird if you so much as tried to mimic.
you fear you're done for when it comes to watching the way his throat bobs as he takes a swig of the larger, it's a japanese brand one you've never heard of nor tried and you can tell oscar hasn't by the way his nose scrunches at the taste, he still continues to drink it though. time seems to float by, growing continually more comfortable with one another to the point you'd sauntered away from the bar stools and are sat perhaps not even an inch apart in a booth in the corner.
"favourite race destination, so far?" "monaco. most definitely, melbournes a close second, but that's just because of a personal bias" "personal bias?" "yeah. . . you."
you'd never thought to combine the flavours of japanese beer and strawberry liqueur, and yet here you were, back-pressed and arched up against the wall beside a hotel room that not yours, the elevator ride was one stop too long to have it be that you'd gone back to your hotel room, hands, not your own, are roaming places never thought to be touched, the bluntness of their nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs has your separating from the kiss to lean your head back and full indulge in the simple pleasures received in this moment. arousal builds when soft lips find the pulse point in your neck, your choice signature scent perfume the most aromatic in that area brings a subconscious reaction from oscar, the thigh between your legs juts up and you also convulse right then and there, your own hands ove from holding the back of his neck to drag through his soft, product-free hair, tugging on the last few strands that slip through your fingers.
the beep of the room door unlocking pulls you to your senses, and a hand tight around your waist drags you inside, you cling onto him in the worst way possible, you can see the smudges of lipstick on the corners of his mouth and god, does he look beautiful. you're unsure for a moment, even if the alcohol had loosened you up a little, you still didn't know how to react around oscar, he's looking at you in a way you can't describe, it makes your stomach flip and you're eager, thighs clenching to distribute the friction of your building arousal. you want his lips on yours again, there's zero space between you, you're simply sharing each other's breath.
his hand finds the back of your neck, tangled in your darkened locks and pulls you back in for a kis, is soft, he must moisturise your brain supplies before it fizzes out, the kiss is messy, all teeth, tongues and spit. you whimper into the kiss, knees buckling, your own hands are on a mission sliding under the hem of his shirt to perfectly feel the warmth that radiates off his skin against your cold hands, you can feel the exact moment your cold touch makes him hiss into the kiss and it finally ignites the fire in your stomach. this is what you want.
you two remain lip-locked until your chest hurts and you've traded the same breath back and forth that it's completely died, when you pull away, you finally take notice of the blown-out pupils staring down at you. his a look entirely of lust, desire, arousal and it shows, especially with the bulge in his pants. your bottom lip finds sanctuary in between your teeth when you raise an eyebrow and one of your hands slips out from under his shirt to palm him through the cargo shorts he'd donned to wear.
if oscar's voice sent a shiver down your spine, the way he groaned at your touch against his bulge chilled you from the inside out, the noise rough and gravelly like he'd not uttered a word in weeks, it's deep and low in his chest that you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't practically flush against him. your hand continues to palm him, making riskier moves as your other hand moves to dip your fingers into the waistband of his pants, you don't wait, you don't even need to ask for permission when his own hands are practically shucking off his own clothes for you.
he looks so gorgeous standing right in front of you, the wet patch you can only assume of precum on the front of his boxers has you licking your lips involuntarily, you try to ignore the voices, fight the urgers but you're but a simple girl, eager to please, that you're flicking your gaze up at him as your sink to your knees, the carpet is soft enough against you but you know better and are already seeing the red marks you'll have the next morning.
oscar looks confused for you in the briefest of moments, your nails dragging along his thighs, soft blonde hairs tickle your finger tips and you bite back the sweet giggle you want to let out as you're finally tugging his underwear down. a moment of shock halts your movement, eyes flicking up and down between oscar's gaze and his cock, tip pink, throbbing and leaking — it's a sight to be seen and you're the one who gets to gaze upon it.
your hand wraps around him, fingers barely meeting at the girth and you moan, can feel the saliva pooling in your mouth, your oral fixation working into overdrive, a single flick of your wrist has a louder groan rolling out of oscar's mouth, a quick "fuck" followed after it that as you once again clenching your thighs. your hand sets an easy rhythm, tried and true, one that allows for long strokes at a steady pace and your thumb to swipe between the slit on his tip that has his stomach clenching. his own hand grabs at your hair, both for something to hold onto and to keep it out of our face when you inch closer and allow your tongue to tease his tip with small kitten licks.
"fuck, fuck, name, fuck suck my cock"
the verbalised plea is all you need to finally wrap your lips around the swollen head, the saltiness of his precum mixing with your spit as you moan around him, your tongue swirls around his tip every time you pull back, only to resume bobbing your head and matching the movement of your hand to the pace you set as you take more of him in your mouth, your mouth feels so full and you can practically feel his dick pulse against your tongue when your other hand moves to squeeze his balls.
"holy shit — where did you learn that, fucking hell"
you smile when you pull away, uncaring of the drool that rolls down your chin, oscar seems not to mind either when he's pulling you back up to kiss him, your hand still stroking him slowly. he can taste his pre cum still on your tongue and as someone who'd assumed he wouldn't be fond of the idea, seems more or less enjoying it solely because it's coming from your mouth. his tongue overpowers your own and he's licking in your mouth with such severity that you can feel your own wetness pooling in your panties, had you been horny before you were now basically unbearably horny at this point.
your clothes feel bothersome, and your top and bra come off rather quick once your legs meet the edge of the bed you'd been pushed back against. the cool air of the hotel room meets your nipples and you gasp out once oscar's hot mouth chooses to settle on one and his hand favours the other. it's magic, that's what you can choose to blame it on, with the way oscar's fingers tug and twist one nipple all whilst his mouth and suck away on the other, your back arches up against him when his teeth graze the sensitive bud and you swear you could achieve your first orgasm of the night just from that alone.
his mouth switches to give the same treatment to the other nipple and yours that tug and pull on his hair only urge him on more, whining and desperate and what you want to happen is not happening. you need him, you crave him, you desire him.
"please oscar, fuck me"
there is it, the words oscar had been waiting to hear since you'd kissed him, and who would oscar be if not someone who listened when he was asked to do something. he sits up on his knees, jerks himself a couple of times as he watches you, skirt rugged up to your hips, a perfect picture, a sight for sore eyes, so beautiful, all for him to bare witness too. you back arches, your eager and needy and positively soaked you don't even need to touch yourself to know, your panties are finally pulled off and you hiss at the air that hits your center. you're clenching around nothing, sticky and sweet, eager, he looks up as your and you nods a final confirmation before you supply a weak "please" before his tip is aligning with your entrance and he's sliding in.
the stretch is everything to you, he is perfect, your hand stretching splayed out against the pillow as the tiniest whine falls from your lips, oscar grunts, face and chest flushed, you can hear exactly how we you are just from the squelch when he finally bottoms out and you moan loud enough that if anyone had been walking past the room they would have heard. oscar doesn't move, allowing for your pussy to stretch and get comfortable around him before you nod, rolling your hips to signal him to move and move he does.
"you're so tight, holy shit."
his hips rock back and forth into you, it's slow and sensual something you hadn't expected, your legs shift and wrap around his hips and your body rocks back against his thrusts willing him to move faster. unlike past partners, oscar seems to get the hint almost instantly as he pulls out and shifts slightly, hand holding onto your hips before he's sheathed himself back into you entirely in a singular thrust.
you moan out, toes curling and your legs wrapping around him so tight as if you'd practically become some sex-fueled boa constrictor. you swear his muscles are working overtime as his abdomen flexes with every deep thrust inside you, your body abuzz with electricity, the fire in your stomach scorching as a particular thrust has him hitting your g-spot and your back arching receptively.
in a world where you'd thought this was ever possible, all imaginations and scenarios have proven wrong already as oscar's thumb finds solace on drawing circles on your clit, causing your pussy to clench around him and a hiss to drag itself from his lips. to oscar you feel amazing and the flush on your face perfect evidence of his inability to be shy about telling you so and all you can do is ooh and ahh in return. something pulls in your stomach when he bottoms out in you again, your leg twitches and you're hyperaware that you'd just orgasmed around him, vocalising how it feels and your back arching however, his hips remain relentless only to come to a halt as he pulls out; your words are stopped as you're flipped over with a gentle tap against your thigh.
arms stretched out in front of you and your back arched, give oscar the perfect view to just take a moment to stare at your fluttering pussy, clenching around nothing as you suffer through a partially stunted orgasm. fingers drag through your folds and your body jerks at the sensitivity, the dip between them, pumping in and out similar to the rhythm he kept previous, his middle finger hooks and your face is thrown forward into the pillow as it hits the spongey feel of your g-spot, you gasp out hand white-knuckling the pillow as he focusses his fingers on that one particular spot
"fuck osc – fuck want you back inside me"
you don't bother with caring much about how whiney and desperate you'd begun to sound, throat dry from the gasping and the continuous noises he pulls from you, your tempting him, ass swaying as he chuckles, pulling his fingers out, he coo's at you as you whine to mourn the loss of the feeling, teases you as he slips the tip of his dick through your flushed red folds and bottom out with a quick hard thrust. you scream out, the pleasure perfectly combining with the sudden stretch to make the sweetest mixture of pain and pleasure you'd ever felt and to silence you, the fingers he'd just fucked you with had found the way into your mouth and if there was one thing you were, it was a good girl.
the sounds reverberating around the walls of the hotel room are borderline pornographic, the new pace oscar has set, deep and hard, skin slapping against skin as he practically bounces off you, his free holding your hip steady as your own knees buckle and you can feel the way his dick pulses inside you, the way his movements become sloppy yet still hitting your pleasure spot every time. the fingers in your mouth licked clean of your own arousal now replaced to be covered in your own drool. oscar grunts, his hips snapping against you in a final thurst as he slumps forward to press the most delicate of kisses to the nape of your neck as he feels you up and you cum around him for a second time.
it's messy, whatever hadn't spilt inside you now jerked off onto your back as your knees give out and you slump against the bed. worn out and woozy you're hardly paying attention to oscar cleaning up, the warm washcloth drags along your hot, sticky and sweaty skin in a way that twists your brain and brings out the regret that seeps into your stomach, had your legs not been feeling like they weren't attached to your body you would have scrambled to get dressed and done the walk of shame back to your own hotel room; however, you stay, regretfully.
you don't cuddle, oscar tries not to act hurt about it as you roll over and away from him when he finally climbs in himself. to you this didn't matter, you fucked him, like nothing matters. come the morning you'll be gone before he wakes. because this didn't mean a thing. to you as least.
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yourusername just posted . . . ♫ nothing matters . the last dinner party
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liked by lando.jpg, yourbestfrienduser, lolatung and 11,219 others yourusername and i will fuck you, like nothing matters. load more comments
oscarpiastri oh.
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authors note: please excuse my smut skills, i'm rusty a lil ngl. i love a bittersweet ambiguous ending. if this gets enough recognition and asks, i'll definitely more than likely make a part two or even multiple parts. reminder, if you weren't tagged it means i couldn't find your account.
add yourself to the taglist here !
taglist: @iluminaya @therealcap @marshmummy @@im-an-overthinker @a1leexxa @chasing-liberosis @marauderssworld @nesssywrites @valntynebaby @larastark3107 @justtprachisblog
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