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wooahaes · 2 months

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svt - with a shy partner

pairing: non-idol!svt x gn!reader

prompt: svt with a partner who is shy(/kinda anxious).

genre: mostly fluff. established relationship in all.

warnings: reader getting anxious. some food mentions throughout. alcohol/clubbing mentions in soonyoung's (reader has a shitty time) + mentions of reader having shitty friends in soonyoung's. seungkwan yelling at someone being a dick in his. vernon fakes sick. usage of 'dude' as a term of endearment in vernon's. minghao being affectionately evil. chan being a lovable menace for a moment to distract them (teasing + tickling reader). intentional lowercase, no proofreading.

daisy’s notes: sorry some of these are longer than the others, i just wanted to write mostly affectionate sweet established relationships. also this is probs veering into anxiety territory at some points im sure.

choi seungcheol

seungcheol knew that you loved him softly. this would never be an issue with him: some people simply weren't loud when it came to loving others, and he was never going to turn away your subtle touches and loving words. being outgoing was hard for you even now in life, where seungcheol had learned to manage it well. therefore, he knew how to take care of you in social situations. he would lead conversations when you were faltering, and he always stayed close to you just to give you someone to latch onto when things were getting to be too much. shy as you were, you still tried sometimes.

and now he was on his way to save you from yet another conversation with the only two friends of his you allowed to tease you.

joshua was snickering at whatever jeonghan had said to you to make you shrink into your sweater (the one that matched seungcheol's, with the heart patches on the elbows), and you looked as though you might drown yourself in the soft fabric if jeonghan didn't stop. but seungcheol knew as well as you did that all it would take is you saying a firm 'quit it' for both men to back off. they were harmless, through and through. but the moment seungcheol was close enough, you already sought refuge at his side, burying your face into his sweater. he could feel your face burning hot.

"what are you saying to them now?" seungcheol rolled his eyes, arm wrapped around you. "are you trying to kill them?"

"all i did was point out that you two are matching again," jeonghan hummed. "it's not my fault they get embarrassed when i point it out."

joshua rolled his eyes. "cheollie to the rescue again."

"shua!" you peeked back at him, lips pressed into a very cute pout. "cheollie, they're bullying me again..."

seungcheol fought back a laugh. that was always how these things played out. jeonghan and joshua, two of your longtime friends, would tease you a little, and then you would pout at your cheollie while he protected you. hell, the latter half was usually how seungcheol saved you from other silly things. he'd been the "excuse me, they asked for no pickles" kind of boyfriend to you time and time again... mainly because he knew you'd hold your tongue otherwise, trying not to bother people. but with these two? you were comfortable playing this little game.

so seungcheol squared up a little. "are they?"

jeonghan rolled his eyes. "here they go again." and he grabbed joshua by his elbow, leading him away with an excuse. if seungcheol hadn't been matching you, maybe they would have played... but something about matching anything gave seungcheol this weird boost of strength.

seungcheol rolled his eyes in turn, wrapping his arms around you as he turned his attention away from them. "i'm glad you're okay with them, you know." he let out a blissful sigh. "it's cute to see you embarrassed."

"cheollie..." you pouted again, eyes meeting his own. you glanced around the room, suddenly acutely aware of how you'd been holding onto him. no doubt your face was burning hot with embarrassment again. "can we go home now?"

he chuckled, leaning to kissing the top of your head. "we can," he promised. "let's go."

yoon jeonghan

if there was one thing that endeared jeonghan to you, it was the cute flustered expression you had whenever he started flirting with you. no matter how long the two of you had been dating, all he had to do was call you adorable to see your eyebrows shoot up, lips agape as you made some comment about how the two of you were 'past that' now. his favorite moments, however, were these: you were trapped on one end of the couch, legs draped over his lap, and he was toying with you idly. sometimes it'd be admiring your hands, or complimenting your hair, or pointing out how much he admired you sense of style...

today? he'd been pinching your cheeks with that wicked giggle you loved (even if you refused to admit it sometimes). "you're just so cute," he snickered. "i'm so lucky..."

"hannie..." you whined, eyes still pinned to the tv screen. "you're missing it."

your face was burning hot underneath his touch, though. a little win in his book. "i'm trying to appreciate you right now," he teased. his gaze flickered back to the tv, where the male lead was (finally) confessing his love. "what does he have that i don't?"

"jeonghan, i--'

"do you like him more than me?" he teased you further, leaning in. "i could be him. he couldn't be me, though."

your gaze met jeonghan's as you pouted a little, yet never pulled away from his touch. "jeonghan..."

"i'll re-do my confession to you," he dropped one hand to rest on the outside of your thigh, leaning in. that jovial expression dropped for a moment as he became completely serious for a moment, playing it up all too well, "i'm in love with you. do you... could you be in love with me, too?" he traced your bottom lip with his thumb. "i know you once loved joshua, but--"

and that was your breaking point as you pushed his hand away, already snorting. "jeonghan!"

before you could try to dive away from him, jeonghan had wrapped his arms around you, that airy laugh punctuating his break in character. he pulled you back in, head resting on your shoulder. "you're too easy to mess with," he giggled. "you should have never told me you had a crush on joshua, by the way."

you rolled your eyes, snuggling in. "noted."

joshua hong

joshua knew how to calm you down when your shyness was getting the better of you. he wordlessly wrapped his own stretchy, bead bracelets around your wrist, and ran his thumb across the beads. you told him once that it helped you for some reason (you'd never figured out the cause), and that had been enough for joshua to always keep at least one bracelet on him. even in a formal event like this. you had made the sacrifice of coming to his work event with him, the lead he could do was ensure you were taken care of.

one of the higher-ups had struck up conversation with you, and joshua knew that it made you far more nervous. you'd answered their questions as best as you could about your own work, your college, your life... and the occasional stammer was enough to give you away to him. joshua knew you were terrified of slipping up, of saying the wrong thing. he'd been the one who spoke for you in several other situations, but he knew what other people would think if he kept doing it. he shouldn't speak for you. or, even worse, that you were rude for not speaking for yourself. he could stand people thinking badly of him, but of you?

he'd silently rolled the bracelet off his own wrist while no one was looking, and pulling it over your own when pretending to inspect your watch. it looked out of place at this formal event, but it was fine. he kept a hold on your hand, thumb running across the beads. for a moment, you looked at joshua, and then gave him the subtlest of smiles before resuming your space.

when he brought it up, you already had an answer. "it's because you're there with me," you told him later that night while sitting outside of a burger place. you'd been stealing his fries, but he didn't care. he was out of that place, and so were you. you could take everything if you wanted. you'd already taken his heart, what else did he have left that wasn't yours already?

"but you know that." he said. his tie was loose around his neck, the top few buttons undone. his jacket had been left in the car he left parked down the street. the two of you needed a real meal after the appetizers (or the 'horse divorce' as you had whispered to him to get him to laugh) were barely enough to feed either of you. "i'm never gonna leave you alone in situations like this."

"i know." you averted your gaze when you said it, ever the bashful one when it came to acknowledging his affections. "i just... i like it when i know you're there. and i like wearing the bracelets you make. it just makes me feel more connected to you, if that's okay."

he leaned over, lips pressing against your cheek. "that's always okay," he said, voice softer. "we're a team. i've got you, alright?"

you smiled again that same sweet smile he'd kiss goodnight forever if you'd let him. "alright." and then you snagged another fry from his meal, eyes flickering up to meet him. "thanks for being on my team, shua."

for you? he'd be anything you needed. teammate, cheerleader, manager... just say the word.

wen junhui

"you forgot them."

jun wasn't afraid to speak up for you. seungkwan had been getting a head count of the group since he'd been the unlucky volunteer to go back inside the vacation home to get drinks, and he paused immediately at jun's casual statement. his gaze flickered over to where you were sitting next to jun, visibly flustered, and everyone else had suddenly shut up.

"huh?"

jun waved it off casually. "you forgot to count them," he said, arm curling around you. "just don't forget to get their drink."

"it's okay," you squeezed his hip gently. "i could have gotten my own drink--"

"seungkwan lost the game, so it's his job," jeonghan called out from his spot on the other side of the fire. he was always so mindful of you and how you got timid when around the full group. "don't be sorry about it."

"seungkwan should be sorry," chan said without missing a beat. "he's the one that forgot them."

mingyu caught seungkwan by the back of his shirt before he could step towards chan, instead pulling him back into his arms with a lighthearted laugh. "i'll help you," he said. "come on. let's get everyone their drinks."

you watched the two wander off, fingers already curling around the edge of jun's shirt. all you had to do was give it the slightest tug to earn his attention. "you didn't have to do that," you said softly.

his brows raised a little. "hm?" he looked toward where the pair had left. "did you want to get your own drink?"

"no, i..." you pursed your lips. how did you say 'i'm used to being forgotten' without it sounding bad? you were typically the quieter one in a group. if you weren't with your close friends, then people seemed to overlook you by accident--just as seungkwan had done. "it's normal for me, that's all."

"it's his job, though," jun said, as casual as he could be about it. "if you wanted to get your own drink, that's fine--but it shouldn't be because he miscounted."

if it wouldn't net him a little teasing, you would kiss him here. even a chaste kiss on the cheek earned teasing with all his friends present. so you just snuggled in, knee pressing against his, and gave him a quick squeeze around the middle. it was subtle enough no one would comment on it.

"thank you, jun," you said softly. "i..." get nervous with large groups. but he already knew that.

even if it earned him a little teasing, he leaned in to press a kiss into your hair. "i've got you," he promised. "don't worry. i'll always remember you."

kwon soonyoung

all of this fucking sucked and there was no place you wanted to be more than home. but you were always a bit of a pushover, always the person who said no to going out, to going to clubs, to doing things in highly busy places when you could barely move... and yet here you were, completely miserable. why did your friends even invite you to places like this now? you'd compromised with them in the past (clubs that were a little less packed than the one you were in, or going to karaoke to drink and sing so they could get loud if they wanted), but it felt like those days were slipping away now. you hugged yourself tight, trying to make yourself smaller as you kept to a side table while they danced their hearts out with strangers. it was too loud and too cramped, and your drinks tasted disgusting, and you'd swallowed your struggles for the past few hours. when was the last time your friends did something you wanted to do...?

then your phone lit up. tap tap?

you responded in kind: tap tap.

be there in ten!

soonyoung had established this system with you forever ago. he'd gone off talking about his experience in martial arts and that tapping out was basically the way to get out of it all. you'd expressed a little confusion over the subject: wasn't the point of martial arts to, you know, to fight? but he'd played with your fingers idly, humming to himself as he considered the way to explain it simplest.

"everyone has different limits," was what he had settled on, looking up to meet your eyes that day. "so if you meet your limit... just text that to me and we can leave. no one has to know what it means."

you gathered your things as silently as you could, just to ensure you still had your belongings at this point. you danced with your friends earlier, only to tap out of that when you wanted another drink. someone had said something raunchy to you, and been kind-of a dick when you tried to innocently mention you had a boyfriend (then why are you even here?). thus you sentenced yourself to the sidelines. out of sight, out of mind, out of trouble.

soonyoung didn't seem to care that he was in his sweats. no doubt he sweet-talked the bouncer into letting him in to find you quickly and leave, because he'd already taken your hand the moment he made his way to you. he guided you out of the place, waved to the guy, and made off with your hand in his.

"i don't like these friends," he said outright once you were far away enough and your hearing was starting to return. your head still felt slightly fuzzy from it all. "why do you let them treat you like this?"

you'd been friends with this group since college. they went out clubbing then, too, but they had never pressured you to go with them then--and they still made an effort to do fun things they liked that you also liked. when did that start changing? you counted back the time. longer than six months ago? a year? what changed--

you looked at soonyoung. oh. that's what changed. soonyoung came into your life and gave you a safe place to be yourself. and around then, that's when your friends had begun making comments about how you were always so 'safe' and too timid for things. pushing boundaries was good, right?

soonyoung took your hands in his. "you shouldn't let them force you into this so often," he said, voice gentle. "i know it's hard for you to say no, but... you look miserable still."

you shook your head. not tonight. please not tonight. and soonyoung nodded in kind, squeezing your hands.

"my housemates are home watching movies," he said. "we can make more popcorn! i washed your spare clothes so you can get all comfy," he beamed at you. "but if you don't want to hang out with them, we can watch something in my room instead. is that better?"

you liked soonyoung's housemates. you shook your head. "can i sit between you and jun?"

he giggled, kissing you gently. "as long as you don't mind him cuddling with you, too."

with soonyoung around... you were more okay with anything.

jeon wonwoo

you had never believed in soulmates before, but if you had to pick one... you were pretty sure wonwoo was it. the two of you had met through a mutual friend (one kim mingyu, who was your loud, loud neighbor at one point--but also the guy who brought over food when you were sick and took care of you when you had no one else to help you), who had turned to you and said he knew someone perfect for you. the two of you met in a bookstore for your date, and the rest was history. wonwoo put you at ease faster than anyone had ever done before, and you were sure that it was because the two of you were alike.

case in point: it was saturday night, and wonwoo was spending it with you. "with" being used loosely: he wasn't talking to you, mostly muttering under his breath to himself, nor were you doing something together. he was curled up on the couch, playing a video game by himself, while you were happily doing a jigsaw puzzle today. saturday was cozy days in this apartment. fridays were when the two of you ventured out. sometimes you went out for dinner, or went to the movies, or went to a mall just to explore for hours. sometimes you were joined by friends, other times it was just the two of you. but that's how things were with you and wonwoo: the weekdays after work could be spend doing whatever the two of you wanted to do. the weekends were for relaxing at home, save for the occasional party (usually birthdays, but you made your fair share of appearances outside of those) the two of you made plans around.

being with wonwoo was easy. his introverted nature seemed to go hand in hand with your shyness. he was okay with speaking for you when you were particularly nervous with people, and he was equally fine holding your hand when you felt okay enough to speak up. he never judged you. being with wonwoo was safe. the most he ever did were the gentle chuckles that sounded from him when he was admiring you, finding tiny bits of your behavior particularly endearing.

"wonwoo?" you called out. he pulled off one set of his headphones, peering back at you for you to continue. "i love you."

his gaze softened. "i love you, too." he didn't turn away yet, though. "are you thinking about something?"

he always seemed to read you easily (you were his favorite book, in his humble opinion). you averted your gaze, already feeling the heat flood into your cheeks. being with wonwoo was easy, yes, but your shyness always seemed to take hold when it came to your feelings past those three words. "i just..." you fiddled with your fingers. "i was thinking about you. and... you're always really kind to me, you know? i don't have to, y'know, worry about messing up with you. i can... i can just be me, timidness and all."

wonwoo just seemed to admire you now, the softest smile on his face. "right... because you accept me as i am. i like this," he gestured a little to the room in general. "we don't have to go out all the time and do things. it's like..." he trailed off for a moment. "you're going to make fun of me."

you waved a hand, "no, no, just say it. i won't, i promise."

"we're cats." he paused when he heard you snort a little in response, but continued. "you've seen them before. some cats just laze around each other, and that's enough because they're spending that time together. we don't have to be doing the same thing... but just knowing we can spend this time together shows me that we love each other." he paused again, waving a hand, "not that i don't love doing things with you! it's just nice to know that we fit together."

"like a puzzle," you said absentmindedly. it earned a soft chuckle from wonwoo in kind.

"yes." he set aside his controller, making his way to you. "like a puzzle." he pulled out the chair across from you. he'd reached out, picking up a piece. "may i?"

"you may," you giggled, watching him carefully put it into place. "wonwoo?" you reached forward, brushing his hair from his eyes. "you're my favorite puzzle piece."

he chuckled warmly, cupping your cheek for a moment. "you're mine, too."

lee jihoon

the relationship you had with jihoon was maybe one of the slower ones anyone had seen. it wasn't for lack of attraction at all--anyone who spoke to you or jihoon knew that the two of you had fallen for each other. but for the longest time, both of you grew flustered when it came to skinship in public. the most either of you could handle was holding hands through busy crowds. the moment one of his friends noticed and called attention to it? you separated. it was why soonyoung, seungcheol, and vernon became jihoon's defense squad: if someone noticed that jihoon was holding your hand or arm or anything... one of the three were there to keep them from commenting on it.

and their jobs were harder now that jihoon had brought you on a trip with them all. he wanted you there, you needed a break from work after saving so much vacation time, and having a group of friends present made things a tad easier and also harder. easier because you didn't have to worry about things being awkward with you and jihoon, and harder because holy fuck, jihoon had a lot of friends. you'd ended up attached to vernon out of all of them. something about the guy's laid back nature put you the most at ease (wonwoo was right next on that list, though).

"hey, um..." you had tugged on his sleeve to get his attention, always so careful of other people's boundaries. "i know what you're doing."

jihoon had looked up from his phone, eyes flickering from you to vernon. "huh?" he paused, voice soft, "has he been bothering you--"

"no! nonono--" you waved a hand. "no. um. jihoon. you brought it up last night."

vernon looked between the two of you. "what?"

"you tell the others to knock it off anytime they see us touch at all," jihoon said outright. he was good at that when you were starting to shy away from things. "it's not a big deal. we're adults."

truth be told, it was usually mingyu who brought it up. but the others gave their fair share of loving teasing toward jihoon when they noticed the way he held tightly onto your hand at times, or the loving way he gazed at you. they always took glee in watching his face turn redder and redder. but you... you had always been a different case. jihoon could handle the teasing: he wouldn't stand it for you, even if he knew it was coming as a symbol of their acceptance toward you. you needed to say if it was alright first, not them.

"i just..." you were getting flustered over it. "i appreciate it. i like you guys a lot, but it gets kinda embarrassing when someone like jeonghan teases us like we're teenagers on a first date."

"they're shy," jihoon ran his thumb along the back of your hand. "not a kid."

vernon looked between the two of you, and something clicked. there was this understanding between the two of you that no one else had quite understood yet. all of them knew how jihoon was when it came to skinship: he didn't want to be treated like a child. and you, with your shyness, could be seen in a similar light. maybe that was why the two of you clicked so well. something about yourselves could be misconstrued and used to speak down to you, and both of you recognized that in each other and respected the other's wishes.

"yeah! yeah, i get it," he nodded. "i'm glad you guys have each other."

you averted your gaze, lips forming a subtle smile. "thanks," you said, voice quieter than before.

the two of you separated from vernon after a little more conversation, and he watched as jihoon flexed his fingers before clutching your hand in his own. and when no one was looking, he leaned in, whispering something into your ear before kissing the skin right in front of it.

the two of you were happy. and that was all that mattered to any of them.

lee seokmin

seokmin knew that, as well as you could mesh into social situations now, there was one thing that made you more nervous than anything. and that was when pictures were being taken.

he had his fair share of candids of you saved in his phone for his eyes only (or, well, his eyes and anyone who caught a glance at his home screen--his lockscreen would always be a picture of the two of you). pictures with or taken by seokmin were in this different realm of 'safe,' according to you. hell, pictures taken by you were safe, too. but he'd seen the way you tried to duck out of pictures constantly, always uncomfortable when they came up in mandatory situations.

so when he saw the wedding photographer's assistant making his rounds to grab pictures of the guests during the reception... his hand tightened a little around yours. he leaned in, lips grazing your ear for a moment, "just stay close to me and i'll block what i can, if you want."

you had been confused at first, only to spot the guy a moment later. you glanced down at yourself, brows drawing together. being a distant face in the wedding video during the ceremony had already been a little nerve-wracking, but photos of you... you looked at seokmin, a deer in the headlights. "i..."

you told him once that you didn't like pictures of yourself because you felt out of place in them. it all came from a lack of confidence that you managed to find when you were in control, or when you were seeing yourself through seokmin's lens. he clutched your hand tight, guiding you away from where you'd been sitting together, watching others dance.

"seokmin, wait," you tugged him to a stop as he guided you toward a side door. "you don't have to. i can go by myself--"

he shook his head. "he got pictures of me when i was dancing with minghao earlier," he said. "we can go outside for a minute, okay? you can't avoid all pictures tonight, but..."

you already knew that: hence why you were avoiding these. you were already tired, clothing a little less neat compared to this morning, and all you could think about was how thankful you were for seokmin. you squeezed his hand. "okay," you said softly. "then... lead the way."

(and if mingyu snapped a picture from a window of the two of you walking outside... then you were okay with it. just this once.)

kim mingyu

if there was one thing you were thankful for, it was that mingyu talked about you constantly. you weren't exactly the most outgoing person, always a little too nervous when it came to people you didn't know... and with a silly, loving boyfriend who also happens to be incredibly handsome, some people were all too eager to flirt wih him. as much as it made you a little insecure (and a lot more jealous, to be honest), you trusted mingyu wholeheartedly. mainly because you'd seen the way he reacted when people started flirting.

"i'm married," was his go-to now. neither of you were married (mingyu said he was fine marrying you as much as he was fine not doing it: he was committed to you, period, and didn't need papers to say that if you didn't want them), but the rings you wore were wedding band-adjacent. you had wanted a pair that looked simpler because your work could dirty your hands sometimes (thus you wanted something easy to clean), and mingyu liked the sleek look of these compared to the others.

sometimes you swore he took a little too much joy out of flashing his "wedding band" at people. he told you once that it was because people always backtrack so hard, it's a little amusing.

except when you were standing right next to him. that was when mingyu pulled you into his arms, giggling like a dummy (your dummy, always) as he showed off his ring. "we're married, actually," he would say. "aren't they cute?" he giggled. "they're still so shy after all this time..."

the person had wandered off, face burning with embarrassment, but seungcheol rolled his eyes from where he was boxing up your chocolates. "for how long?"

mingyu smiled, arms still securely around you. "ah... does the time really matter?" he swayed a little, dragging you along with the motion. "we're together for life. that's all that matters now--"

"you suck at lying." seungcheol smiled a little when that earned a snort from you.

mingyu just hugged you tighter. "someone has to do it!" he nuzzled your head. "and i like doing it. did you see their face when i said we were married? it's cute."

seungcheol rolled his eyes. "so i've heard."

"are you saying they aren't cute?" mingyu's voice became more serious now. would he be pouting if you turned to look at his face? you weren't sure, but with mingyu... you felt like it might be a safe bet. "they're right here. don't be mean to them."

"if i called them cute, then i'd never hear the end of it from you."

something about the way they continued to bicker like brothers finally earned a laugh from you, hands holding securely onto mingyu's arms. it stopped him there, and he immediately dove around you to kiss your cheek.

"see?" mingyu said. "they're cute. shyness and all."

xu minghao

"cute."

you looked up from your book, curled up on one end of your couch. minghao was smiling at you, head propped up by his hand as he leaned against the back of the couch. you knew this smile too well now: something inside that cute head of his had stirred awake and decided now was the time to tease you. you'd seen stoic, serious minghao plenty of times, alongside the wittier, snarky version of your boyfriend you had fallen for after he made one snappy comment back at one of his friends... but playful, silly minghao would always be your favorite flavor of him. except for when 'silly, playful' meant complimenting you. minghao knew compliments were your weakness in life.

"hm?" you sounded, hoping that maybe you heard him wrong. "did you say something."

"you heard me." that same smile greeted you now. "you're cute."

shit. shit. this was already a losing battle as you shrink down against the couch, the hood of your hoodie being dragged up. "hao... don't."

"hm?" he reached out, pushing your book out of the way--just enough that he could see your face. "don't what? tell the truth? you know i think you're cute, why shouldn't i say it?"

"it's embarrassing." you looked away.

"we're the only ones here, my love." your heart rate spiked for a moment: not the 'my love'. he knew what those words did to you. your ears were burning now, and you continued to hide yourself in your hoodie.

"still..." you already knew he had won this, whatever it was. you shoved your bookmark into your book, setting it aside as you continued to hide, tugging at the drawstring from your hood to close it around you. your voice grew higher as you finally confessed, "you're cuter."

"we're not talking about me right now," he had begun to move in. "you're just proving me right, you know. you're cute." he nudged your knees aside as he propped himself up over you.

this man was going to be the death of you.

he tugged the hood away from your face, string coming loose with ease. "see?" he poked the tip of your nose. "cute. it's a fact."

all too easily, you gave in when he wrapped his arms around you, tugging you so that you could be closer to you. he folded himself around you, burying his face in your neck as he breathed out a happy sigh.

"is something up?" you asked quietly. "i mean--i don't, up, i don't mind the sappy stuff. just..."

"i'm fine," he pecked your neck, nose grazing against the underside of your jaw. "just needed to love you louder today." he paused, raising his gaze to meet yours as he leaned around you. "is that okay?"

with a sigh, you settled into his arms. "yeah," you mumbled. "always okay. thank you for asking."

boo seungkwan

this was mortifying. what if you died right here? would that be better than witnessing this? chan had an arm around you while vernon was trying to pull seungkwan back. you just wanted one nice night with your boyfriend and his friends, and now seungkwan was very loudly arguing with someone who had said something not-so-nice about you relying on him so much. you were fine when it was just the four of you, but seungkwan knew you. he knew you struggled with being heard: hence why he reiterated your request on your behalf.

"they're my partner and i'm not going to let you speak about them like that!" he balled his fists. "just because they won't complain doesn't mean you can insult them to their face!"

"seungkwan," vernon pulled his arm harder. "dude. we're gonna get kicked out."

"fine!" he said, looking back at vernon. "i don't care! he was rude to them and made fun of them--they don't get to insult anyone i love like that!"

"seungkwan," you called out, finally getting his attention. you shook your head. "it's okay. let's just go."

he stole one last glance at the asshole he'd been yelling at, before taking a breath. seungkwan pulled away from vernon, making his way over to you as he took your hand. the four of you left, heading back outside as seungkwan immediately rounded to face you once you were far enough away from the place. he waved for the other two to go on--he just needed to speak to you alone. seungkwan took your hands, squeezing them gently.

"are you okay? did i ruin our night?" he frowned, pausing as he tugged at your sleeve to fix it back into place. "i would have let it go if he didn't make fun of you."

"it's okay," you said. "i'm sorry you always have to do this for me."

he blinked. "hm?" he looked back. "that place was busy. vernon didn't hear you, so i made sure your request got across." he paused, realization hitting him. "not that it matters now..."

"you guys can go back without me," you said, pulling your hands free. "i'm gonna go home."

"but--" he stepped forward. "you don't have to. we can go somewhere else." he paused for a moment. "i'm sorry i started yelling at him. i..." he took a deep breath. "i love you, and i don't care that you get shy or nervous or whatever you want to call it. i'm happy to talk for both of us if that's what you need me to do." he paused. "do you really want to go home?"

you nodded. "a little."

"then i'll go with you," he took your hand. "we'll come back out another night."

you squeezed his hand. "seungkwan?" you interlaced your fingers with his. "thanks for having my back."

"thank you for having mine," he pecked your cheek. "i'll always be here."

chwe vernon

the moment you turned the corner, vernon immediately straightened up, all signs of 'illness' seeming to disappear entirely. it made you slow to a stop, hand leaving his as you stare at him. was... was that why he was so insistent on not taking a cab home? he'd said the night air might help if you walked a little, but...

"alright. where to?" he turned, phone already in hand. "there's that dessert place you like. wait, did you eat? we could grab something else instead--"

"i thought you were sick." you sounded dumbfounded, and vernon blinked.

"you wanted to get out of there." a true fact, but you hadn't said it to vernon yet. "oh, dude. you get this look on your face." he made his way over to you. "like... you looked miserable. so i figured i'd take one for the team and pretend i'm sick so you wouldn't have to come up with an excuse again."

your cats could only get sick so many times without people wondering if something was wrong with them, after all.

you frowned. "you didn't have to do that."

"i kinda did." he took your hands. "like... i saw the look on your face. the 'please stop asking me about work, and my relationship, and my life, i'm going to pass out' face. remember that work thing you took me to? you did that face there, too."

maybe you loved this man more than anything.

"so... where do you wanna go? we could go back to my place. i've got popcorn, we could steal seungcheol's netflix account again, watch something dumb."

it earned a giggle from you. "he knows, right?"

"you haven't seen the new profile he made last week." he pulled you back with him, letting you follow his steps, "named it freeloaders. we're not the only ones using it, y'know."

you giggled again. between vernon, mingyu, and wonwoo... you weren't surprised seungcheol knew the netflix account was getting used by more than just him. they shared accounts, after all. he was using vernon's disney plus account often enough, mainly to get to hulu.

"just say the word if you ever want me to make up something, by the way," he squeezed your hand. "i know you get bad with people sometimes. let me handle it, alright?"

at least you had vernon in your life to make it all easer.

lee chan

chan chuckled. "it's okay," he said as he felt you bury your face in his neck. "i don't think he'll think anything of it."

chan was beyond used to seeing you flustered over the silliest little things. while he replayed his own slip-ups later on, you wore your emotions plain on your face after finishing a phone call with your close friend (and the guy who introduced you to chan), seungcheol. you'd slipped up and said an innocent 'love you!' to him, something chan always saw coming considering you'd long-since confessed that he felt like family to you. he saw the regret on your face for saying it so casually to a friend when it took you forever to say it to chan, and now he was fighting back the urge to laugh as you whined.

"he's never gonna let me live it down."

chan patted your back gently, chuckling a little now. seungcheol definitely wouldn't let it go--at least not to chan. "you're close friends! friends can say they love each other."

"i know, but..." you squeezed your eyes shut. "it's embarrassing. he didn't even say anything back and--and you know how cheol is."

that he did. chan heard your phone chime, and reached for it to steal a quick look... only to see seungcheol had texted you back: CALL ME BACK >:(

"baby?" he held up your phone, waving it in front of your face. "he's waiting."

"nooooooo," you whined again. "he's gonna make fun of me."

your phone began to ring. chan didn't hesitate to answer it, putting seungcheol on speaker. "they're dying, cheol."

"they didn't let me say it back!"

you buried your face further into chan's neck. of course seungcheol took it in stride--and of course his real problem was that you didn't give him the chance to say it back. chan let out a snort, hand curling around the back of your head as he gave it a quick pat.

"you're killing them still. you know how they get with affection."

you knew seungcheol was rolling his eyes with that annoyed sigh he let out. "they're like family. i wasn't going to be mad until they hung up on me before i could say it."

the affection truly was killing you. chan had seen you bury your face in his neck before, always too embarrassed to just accept the sweet words of anyone--especially himself. he called you one night to drunkenly ramble about his affections for you, and immediately apologized when you broke your favorite mug while you were mentally malfunctioning. even now, he felt the way you grabbed at his shirt, face burning hot with embarrassment. this was the reason why he could never arrange a surprise party for you: you might pass out if so many people broadcast their love for you at once.

"so?" seungcheol said, and you could hear someone laughing in the background. mingyu for sure, and someone else. "ignore them."

"love you, cheol," you mumbled. "sorry i hung up earlier."

your apology was met with a warm chuckle. "it's okay. let me know when you're coming over for dinner again," he said, and then paused for a second, "bring your boyfriend, too."

chan gasped in mock offense, as though he hadn't been sitting there the entire time. he hung up the call, and immediately wrapped his arms around you. "you love me more, right?" he teased, just to see that cute pout on your face. he'll kiss it soon, too.

you averted your gaze, face burning hot now. first cheol, now chan? "you know i do."

"say it." he poked your side, just to watch you squirm. "or else."

you could feel the way his fingers were starting to tickle your sides. "chan!"

all too easily, he'd made you forget about your nervous blunder as he dove forward to kiss you amidst your giggles. "say it!"

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny

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p1utofairy · 8 months

Text

PAC: “i just wanna be your favorite…” ⭐️🎀💍

• which fictional characters is your person most like?

disclaimer ✩: 18+ mature themes. take what resonates, leave what doesn't. i also just wanna say thank y'all from the bottom of my heart for the support <3 it means so much to me. enjoy!

pile 1 💸 —

"i can't wait 'til i get you on the floor, good-looking. hey, going hot, so hot, just like an oven. and ow! burned myself, i just had to touch it. but it's so fire, and it's all mine."

hiii pile 1! let me start off by saying your person is one fineeee m'fer! they look straight out of an old hollywood movie. suit & tie by justin timberlake ft. jay z won't stop playing in my head lol, their vibe is literally that song. they're gonna love taking you out to fun events and showing you off to people hehe i heard "trophy wife." this isn't in a superficial way by any means, they just really love how you look and how bright your personality shines. you have a mesmerizing appearance and an extraordinary personality to match. i feel like your eyes or their eyes is another main focus that will garner lots of compliments. ok, wow. back to the topic at hand! the characters i channeled were jay gatsby from ‘the great gatsby’, lon hammond from ‘the notebook’, and napoleon solo from ‘the man from U.N.C.L.E.’ now of course your person may not exactly look like these characters but the ✨vibes✨ are very much there. you're gonna have the time of your life with this person lol they are so damn fun and charismatic. i can hear them teasing you and and saying "don't be a brat, baby." with a sly smirk on their face LOL they're gonna make you feel so tingly and giddy inside ahhh. i feel like it was hard for them to settle down before you came into their life pile 1. they wanted to have their cake and eat it too. i mean this person could honestly have whatever they want, but you actually make them work for this relationship and they're not used to that. people (romantically and platonically) just fall for them at the drop of a dime because they are just so damn sexy, and it doesn't help that they're good with their words and actions. i just heard smooth operator by sade and ego by beyoncé at the same time lol this person is seriously a charmer! they can't help it though, they just love to socialize and have a good time. on the flip side, this sometimes weighs them down. the constant attention and socializing can make them feel overwhelmed at times. i'm thinking of ‘the great gatsby’ when jay kept throwing elaborate parties and inviting thousands of people to attend them, so that he could eventually catch daisy's attention. i'm hearing "when you're happy, they're happy!" random thought, but for some of you…your person could be from the UK/have a thick british accent. i also feel like your person is funny af, they've got jokes for dayssssss. they honestly take nothing serious…like if either of you had a bad day at work or just in general, TRUST that they will find a way to turn it around. like it'll actually amaze you how they just go through life vibing and you'll just be like how??? and i can hear them saying "i don't know, babe. i just got it like that." lol they're so cocky (but in an annoyingly hot way) you will never be able to stay mad at them. like if you were being petty and giving them the silent treatment for whatever reason…i can see you getting ready and they'd come up all close behind you, arms around your waist, kissing your neck and they'd be like "you still mad at me, baby?" and your brain would literally malfunction like €|>~€\€,\!|!]€]€YESNOYESNO.!:!,&:’ i'm crying this is hilarious. never a dull moment with them, pile 1. i'm telling ya!

other channeled messages:

theme from new york, new york by frank sinatra, gene kelly, tuxedo, her way by partynextdoor, sophisticated, expensive cologne, j'adore dior, pearly white teeth, cartier watch, swarovski crystals, meet me on the dance floor, babydoll by mariah carey, british, sprinter by dave & central cee, love island, damson idris, i'll make it happen, ballin’ by partynextdoor, diamonds are a girl's best friend

pile 2 💣 —

“who wants that perfect love story anyway, anyway. cliché, cliché, cliché, cliché. who wants that hero love that saves the day, anyway cliché, cliché, cliché, cliché.”

okayyyy pile 2, i see y'all with the bonnie and clyde vibes! let's buckle down and get serious though. i already feel like your person is very misunderstood. they might've had a rough childhood growing up or possibly struggled with connecting to their family. they feel like they fuck things up? they kinda think to themselves "why should i even try to be in a relationship, i'm a mess. i mess things up." it's actually sad because i feel like they're a great person (very soft and gentle) and when things go left/don't work out they immediately blame themselves because the blame was always put on them as a child. i'm hearing it's a "trauma response" :( aw pile 2 i feel like crying…your person really takes it on the chin and keeps it pushing. i can see them sitting on porch steps, gazing at the skyline and kinda just shrugging saying "that's just life i guess." they tend to self-sabotage before things even go into motion but before you two meet, they'll be pushed to confront their problems/fears. they have this cool, in-control, idgaf type of vibe on the outside but internally it's the opposite. i'm hearing pretty little fears by 6lack ft. j cole wow pile 2 they'll really have a soft spot for you. the characters i channeled were damon salvatore from ‘the vampire diaries’, luke glanton from ‘the place beyond the pines’ and tyler durden from ‘fight club’ which are some pretty complex personalities whew. your person is a loner by default, they feel like they really can't depend on many people. they've been left out in the cold so many times it's like they had no other choice but to become independent fast. when they meet you, pile 2…you're going to awaken them. i'm hearing j cole's verse in pretty little fears, “i'm loving your light, vulnerable. letting your guard down is honorable. 'specially when the past ain't been that friendly to you, but…there's magic in that.” it's gonna be insane to them how someone like you could display so much love, care and devotion towards them. i can see them keeping a really cute picture of you (or you two together) in their wallet/bag and just staring at it with a small smile on their face. you give them so much hope pile 2. they never knew they were capable of such strong emotions; love, happiness, joy. i can see you two laughing about something…you have this big grin on your face and when you turn your head to look at them, you just see them with a dopey smile on their face and a glint in their eyes just staring at you in awe. and you're just like "what?" but you don't even know how much you really mean to them in that moment. I'M ABOUT TO BURST INTO TEARS PLS I CAN'T. they're not used to anything stable, but you give them hope and anticipation for their future…with you. y'all are going to have to have so many enlightening, deep and forward-thinking conversations. i see them holding your hand and kissing your knuckles, taking random drives at night together while blasting music and going to the movies and talking/debating afterwards about what you hated and what you loved. k i'm crying, bye!

other channeled messages:

west coast by lana del rey, west side, successful relationship, turning tables by adele, cigarettes out the window by tv girl, well my boyfriend's in a band, ultraviolence album, someone like u (interlude) by ariana grande, toxic upbringing, scorpio moon, aries, smoking weed, american psycho, it's a forever thing

pile 3 🐚 —

“every little thing you do got me feeling some type of way. when you gimme that thunder you make my summer rain.”

welcome to your reading pile 3! idk why i wanted to say pile 333 hehe let's take that as a sign that you're about to meet your person soon. your person is so easy-going…like their energy feels so carefree and warm; like a nice summer breeze (i feel like some of you that chose this pile watch/really love the summer i turned pretty) i can see your person adjusting their sunglasses and saying "i'm just happy to be here." they're such a vibe lol. ok and why did i just randomly hear "no you're cute jeans." their sense of humor is so sjhfjdjcjdsn y'all are gonna have a lot of inside jokes together; internet memes especially. that "i'm sorry, i'm just in a silly goofy mood" shemar moore video just popped up in my head LMFAOOOO your person is hilarious pile 3. i channeled johnny storm from ‘fantastic four’, chad meeks-martin from ‘scream vi’, stefan salvatore from ‘the vampire diaries’ and conrad fisher from ‘the summer i turned pretty’ which are all pretty different but i see the vision pile 3…i see the vision. i feel like your person has just gotten back to themselves, because for awhile they weren't this upbeat and silly. i feel like this has to do with a past hurt/betrayal from either a friend or an ex-lover…that person took them for granted and made them feel small. i just randomly heard "katherine pierce" so maybe that person was very sneaky and never had good intentions in the first place. when they're with you though, they feel like a moth drawn to a flame. best friend by 50 cent just came to mind, "if i was your best friend, i want you 'round all the time. (i want you 'round me all the time) girl, i'll be your best friend if you promise you'll be mine (girl, promise you'll be mine)." i see you both posting funny photo dumps of you two together on instagram/instagram stories. i feel like y'all will be a PDA couple, and even if you aren't one of those type of people that likes all that…they're definitely gonna make you so happy that people visibly see the love between the two of you. i can see them kissing the side of your head, you slightly leaning into them…them giving you their hoodie/jacket to wear when you're cold. it's subtle things like that 🥹 so so so cute. you two have a very sacred, beautiful and divinely protected relationship. your person will be very generous with their time, money and love when it comes to you pile 3.

other channeled messages:

there goes my baby by usher, one in a million by ne-yo, connie baby, it's your world i'm just living in it, positions by ariana grande, unlock it by charlie xcx ft. kim petras & jay park, right my side by nicki minaj ft. chris brown, long walks on the beach, forever boy, vintage camera/digital camera, breakin’ my heart (pretty brown eyes) by mint condition, taylor swift, peter parker

pile 4 🌹—

“moment of honesty. someone's gotta take the lead tonight, who's it gonna be? i'm gonna sit right here and tell you all that comes to me. if you have something to say, you should say it right now.”

heyyy pile 4. i'm kinda stunned rn cause your person is sooooooooo captivated by you. like they wanted to skip all the bullshit and get right into it, and honestly…i #respect it. they think you're an absolute badass, you handle tough situations with so much grace. i'm hearing "you're better than me." lol they play no games pile 4, especially when it comes to you! i'm hearing that you've been through a lot, and it hasn't been easy for you to get to the point in your life that you're at now. they just wanna kiss you and make everything better. kiss it better by rihanna just started playing, "kiss it, kiss it, better baby." yeah your person is sensual af pile 4, it's givingggg taurus vibes. this is random af but i feel like they really love your back? if you wear a backless top or a backless dress, they will go absolutely FERAL. like fingers ghosting down your spine, their lips kissing down your neck…and don't get me started on the eye contact. their gaze is INTENSE. i’m hearing lyrics from nobody by selena gomez, "no kiss, no lips, no feel, no rush can keep me high, i swear no one…can love me like you do. can love me like you do, no." the characters i channeled were tobias eaton from ‘divergent’ and anakin skywalker from ‘star wars prequel trilogy’ which is so on brand. those 2 did not play about tris and padmé, ok?! you are their whole world pile 4. if it's not you, they don't want it. they feel so relaxed around you…like they can finally breathe. i can see them standing in a serious stance (obviously tense af) pondering about something and you just come behind them and wrap them in a big bear hug and they just…melt. they finally take that deep breath that they didn't even realize they were holding in for so long. they usually keep their feelings to themselves, but you create such a great safe space for them to be so open, honest and vulnerable; and vice versa. i'm also hearing that they are a very hands-on type of person, so whatever you need done/fixed, they sure as hell will find a way to do it for you. i can also see you two chilling/relaxing together a lot. don't get me wrong this person will always find something for you two to do, but there's something about that downtime (watching a movie while cuddled up with you on the couch, spending time with you and your loved ones/friends or taking a late night drive with you) that makes them think to themselves, "damn i really love life." 😮‍💨 you've got them locked in pile 4. it's so sweet & amazing.

other channeled messages:

1 of 1, peppers by lana del rey ft. tommy genesis, skywalker by miguel ft. travis scott, adore by cashmere cat ft. ariana grande, it's us against the world baby, 90210, pisces, dream guy, sauvage cologne, miss dior, sagittarius rising, virgo's groove by beyoncé, 1:11, best i ever had (remix) by drake & nicki minaj, all i want is you by miguel ft. j cole, bouquet of flowers, tennis bracelet, wild thoughts by dj khaled ft. rihanna & bryson tiller, cpr by summer walker

#pac #pac reading #love pac #pick a card #love reading #intuitive reading #tarot reading #pick a pile #energy reading #tarot pac #pick a card reading #p1utofairy

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pinkroseblooms · 2 months

Text

Boy Toy

Sugar baby!Toji Fushiguro x Sugar mama!f!Reader

Summary: You try to break things off with Toji; needless to say, he does not take it well. wc: 5.1 Warnings and tags: this story contains smut, dirty talk, cursing, rough sex, begging, emotional manipulation, toxic behavior/relationships, some soft!dom/bratty!sub elements, a clingyyandere!toji, possessive behavior, obsessive love, some angst, some fluff, all twisted af.

a/n: I see a lot of Sugar daddy!Toji content and wanted to switch things up a bit with some emotional feels. I also ended up listening to Rick Montgomery's "Boy Toy" on repeat and got ideas. Personally I headcanon that if Toji ever did somehow develop genuine love for another person it wouldn't necessarily help him chill out this time around, he'd just become more unhinged.

His things are in a pile, close to the solid red oak door; they’ve been packed away in brand new luggage carriers and on top is the duffle bag Toji had initially used to carry his stuff in for overnight stays.

If it were anyone else, Toji would have expected the various articles of clothing and personal items that had steadily accumulated inside your spacious home to be thrown out carelessly like trash on your equally spacious lawn. That or burning in the firepit.

If it was anyone else but you, it’s what Toji would have expected, but you weren’t petty that way; even now as you stand before him, arms crossed, gaze almost blank, you radiate a certain measure of dignity. It’s one of those things Toji’s come to admire about you over the past year. It’s effortless, that magnetizing charm you exude; he liked it right away.

“You can keep the bags, sell them if you want.” Your lips form a small but rueful smile. “I sent you a check; call it a severance fee.”

“I thought I didn’t work for you anymore.”

Toji hasn’t considered you a client in months, though really, a mark was more accurate. You were disgustingly wealthy with a cute face and that was all he needed to pounce on the offer to be your bodyguard and occasional companion to the odd social events. Even cleaned up and polished, Toji was able to keep others away in droves, exactly what you were aiming for; you found social obligations tedious and his handsome yet intimidating presence kept everyone around you from lingering too long and insisting on taking up too much of your time and attention. Toji spent the first three or so months in your company essentially as an employee and he was satisfied with the arrangement. It would have been so easy and simple, it should have been, had you not burrowed your way into his head, like a bullet piercing bone.

Dammit he never should have fucked you. Toji had every intention of keeping things professional. He should have kept his distance, he certainly shouldn’t have let his fingers trace your skin after zipping up your dress, and damn you by the way for looking over your shoulder at him with those pretty doe eyes and not telling him off when the second you caught Toji leaning in, almost like he wasn’t realizing he was doing it, to get a whiff of your scent mixed with the perfume he had said was his favorite.

“You don’t have to keep the charade up anymore; it’s insulting at this point. I won’t force you to stay here.”

“You’re dumping me.”

“No. That would mean we were actually dating. Toji…Fushiguro-san, I made a mistake.” You’re almost talking to yourself as you look over Toji’s tensed shoulders to the entrance of your home. “I was fooling myself, thinking you could open your heart to me. But, I knew what I signed up for. So, no, I won’t leave you without any job security until you find your next meal ticket.”

“You’re not-”

“I heard you. Please, it’s not like you to back track on your words, so don’t start on my account.”

Toji was bragging over the phone, giving a verbal middle finger to an asshole of a former employer who demanded Toji’s services for a hit. You overheard him refer to you as a “piggy bank” with a pretty face, among other things. Shortly after ending the call, Toji left to work out (he couldn’t get too lazy, got to keep in shape to protect his favorite girl) and grab some food (on your card) only to return to this. You didn't even give Toji a chance to greet you with the usual flurry of kisses and a bear hug before telling him point blank he was leaving and now.

Even as Toji struggles to wrap his mind around your abrupt change in demeanor, with that practiced look of almost serene impassivity, you look so good to him, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and tiny bike shorts. You always dress down at home, in comfy, baggy things. Toji supposes you packed away all the sweatshirts you’ve collected from him with everything else of his.

“You won’t even let me apologize?” Toji stands stiffly in the foyer, next to the bags; behind him is the front door, still open, as if waiting for him to step outside. “It was all shit talking. I didn’t mean how it sounded.”

“That doesn’t make it better and it’s not just that. You’ve been hot and cold lately. Admit it: you can’t bring yourself to acknowledge me as anything but an obligation.” You exhale slowly, rubbing your temple. “I’ve tried to be understanding; you lost your wife and I realized it would be hard. I knew that, I knew there was a chance that no matter how close we became, I was never going to be enough for you.”

You put up a good front, but Toji can recognize the faint tremble in your voice, see how your jaw locks slightly, as though you’re holding back curses. He’s hurt you.

“Baby, c’mere?” Toji opens his arms with a pleading half smile. “You’ve been stressed lately, that’s all. You’ve been working hard and I haven’t been showing my appreciation properly, is that it?”

“Oh spare me. Listen, I won’t swear revenge or sick henchmen on your trail.” You go on, calm as can be, not budging an inch. “The check won’t bounce and all your things are there; if I missed anything, I’ll send it to you. You’re free to go.”

Toji stares at you in disbelief, arms dropping to his sides. You could have just as easily said "you're dismissed" with that cutting tone of yours.

“Are you fucking serious?”

When you fail to respond, he suddenly turns from you, but not to storm off. Instead, Toji slams the front door closed so hard, it’s a wonder the whole structure didn’t come crashing down. You don’t so much as flinch when Toji strides up to get in your face.

“I want my stuff out of these bags.” he snarls. "Now."

“There’s no need to make a scene. It’s not like you’ll be without a benefactor for long; I bet you could find another meal ticket just walking down my driveway. The whole neighborhood is full of lonely rich women, you can have your pick.”

“You’re not a meal ticket. You know that, you know I didn’t mean it dammit!”

“Enough.” You raise a hand up, your voice clipped. “Fushiguro-san, you have your things, plenty of money, and my own promise to leave you in peace. What more could you possibly want? What exactly is it that you’re holding out for? You don’t expect me to fund you indefinitely, I’m sure.”

"Why are you acting like this? Like you don't even give a shit?"

Toji’s hands clenched into fists; he’s radiating power and murderous intent, but you don’t look swayed or even scared. You know he wouldn’t strike you. Just the idea sickens him; no, it’s not you he’s actually angry with.

“I’m a fucking idiot who wanted to show off, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? Fine. Now we’re gonna talk this out like adults, I’ll put this shit back-"

“No, you will not. I want it gone. I want you gone. Don’t you understand?” You tell him firmly, eyes finally averting to the pile of bags. Toji’s puffed chest deflates at the sadness that finally touches your inflection. “I’m disappointed enough as it is; can’t you do this one thing for my sake? Why are you insisting on dragging this out?”

“I want to put it all back.” Toji blurts out stubbornly, so loud his voice echoes in the high ceilings. “You can’t do this to me, I want to stay.”

“Excuse me?” You snap. “What exactly am I ‘doing to you’?”

“Come on, this is so silly, kicking me out over a misunderstanding.” Toji lowers his voice, a smile coming to his lips as he attempts to charm you once again, hands coming up to gently grasp your shoulders. “You’re breakin’ my heart here. You said it yourself, it’s a been over a year, you know me-”

“Do I?”

“Yes!” Toji steps forward, a strained grin on his lips. “You do. You know me and you know you’re my best girl.”

“Out of all the others?”

“Best and only; I haven’t been with anyone else in months.” Toji rubs his hands over your arms but you only give him a look of derision. “I’m not lying; tell you the truth, ever since we went out to the beach, it’s only been you. Remember that trip?” he grins softly, nuzzles your temple; he knows you want to lean into him, you’re just being stubborn. How adorable. He loves when you get grumpy and need his help relaxing. “I showed you how to make a fire and we fell asleep outside on the hammock. That night was something else...you’ve been the only one ever since. Baby, I swear, there haven't been any other women.”

Toji inches closer, hands shaking slightly where they grip your shoulders; his love bites are still visible, some more faint than others; his arms ache to hold you. You’re so close, so what’s with this wall you’re putting up?

"I want to believe that."

"It's the truth."

Toji isn’t sure how or when it began, but before he knew it, you were calling just to talk and ask how he was doing, if he needed anything. You requested he join you not just for meetings as extra muscle or posing as a date, but on walks and meals, having conversations about the weather to debates about the nature of man to whether toast was better with jelly or jam. You’d take Toji out randomly on shopping trips and end up buying him pretty much anything that caught his eye. Anything Toji wanted, he got, and along with it you increasingly showered him with praise and affection.

When the sex began Toji thought he got you out of his system the first time, only to end up not just repeating these trysts, but staying longer and longer after he fucked your brains out. It was borderline embarrassing, how quickly Toji found himself lulled in by your pillowtalk as you encouraged him to sleep in, promising you’d have breakfast ready for him in the morning. Sometimes, Toji would come over when you weren’t even home with the spare keys you gifted him and promptly burrow himself in your bed until you were due home. The whole room smelled sweet and it was so cozy being wrapped in the down blankets. Toji's eyelids would get heavier as he wallowed in your scented sheets ike a pig rolling in mud until the combined aromas of your perfumes, lotions, and natural scent clung to his nostrils, soothing and oddly familiar; within minutes Toji would be out like a light. After some of the best rest he had ever gotten, Toji would wake up to you stroking his head, petting him like a dog, and asking him what he would like for dinner.

Eventually, inevitably, came the point of no return. During that beach trip Toji told you about his past; he didn’t go into too much detail, mainly that he had loved someone and he was pretty sure lightning only struck once. You didn’t get jealous or angry; you simply kissed his knuckles and put your hand over his, not saying much of anything while Toji spoke. That night on the beach you held his hand and allowed him to reminisce at his own pace into the early hours of the morning, until he was too exhausted to do anything else but hold you and the two of you stayed that way until noon.

That peaceful, almost unreal night, Toji realized you actually gave a shit about him and he didn’t know what to do with that. Regardless, you made it clear you didn’t expect to own his heart and soul. You only promised to take care of him.

“I was being stubborn, you know how I get sometimes. You’re my one and only, baby, can’t we just forget about it?”

“I want you to leave.”

“No.”

“It wasn’t a request.”

“No!”

Toji’s hands cup your cheeks and he winces at the disgust in your eyes; why are you looking at him like that?

“Okay, okay, let me make it up.” Toji’s voice is sweet as pie; he leans in, practically purring in your ear. “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll show you how sorry I am.”

“Get. Off. I knew you were shameless, but this is...”

You might as well have slapped him across the face; Toji’s smile falls as you glare like he’s some repulsive insect, a leech, like the thought of him touching you is making your skin crawl.

Toji’s hands retract from your face, expression blank. “You’re really serious.”

“Don’t give me that kicked puppy look. As if you don’t have women on speed dial to call up. Why don’t you make up with one of your other meal tickets? I’m sure they’ll have forgiven you by now for however you wronged them-”

“I told you there isn’t anyone else. Don’t do this.” Toji mutters, head hanging; his chest throbs, he can feel sweat trickle down his temple. “Don’t make me go.”

It’s doubtful you could forcibly remove Toji from your presence, but that’s beside the point. It doesn’t mean anything if you don’t want him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

“No, I’m really sorry.” Toji falls to his knees. “Don’t make me go.”

“Hey, wait, what are you…?”

Toji wraps his arms around your thighs, face pressed into your waist; you stiffen but he hangs on tighter, fingers digging into your hips almost painfully.

“Please, don’t make me. I wanna go upstairs, back to our bed. Listen, I,” Toji pries himself away from you just enough so he can look at you with glassy eyes. He’s panicking now, babbling and frantic as you try to pry off his arms. “Stop that! Baby, I got all messed up about getting too attached and I-I didn’t mean anything I said, you gotta believe me.”

“Toji, let go!”

A cold sweat makes Toji’s already tight shirt stick to his tensed back muscles; he feels like he’s being choked. How could you do this to him? All he wants is to stay with you, whether it’s as a bodyguard, a hired companion, a fuck toy, hell, he’ll settle for being your pet if that’s what it takes to get you to take him back.

"You promised you'd take care of me." he mutters, ignoring your vain attempts at freeing yourself from his unyielding hold. "I don't...want it to be anyone else."

Toji won’t let you go. You’ve made him lazy and spoiled with your pampering; he doesn’t have to work if he doesn’t want to, never has to worry about money or food or rent, and he never has to wake up alone anymore. Whether Toji’s angry, tired, bored, or as of late, happy, you’re the first person he thinks of. You give him everything and now you’re trying to cut him off.

"You let me go right now!" You slap at his shoulders, try to pull back his head from where it's pressed into your midsection. "Are you even listening?!"

With a distressed moan, Toji nuzzles your tummy, kisses the skin peeking out from your sweatshirt riding up under his forearms; his rough hands relax their grasp a fraction to caress your hips.

“Let me stay. I won’t answer calls from my old bosses, I’ll quit betting. If I look at another woman, gouge my eyes out. All you have to do is tell me how to fix things.” Toji smiles at you, one he knows makes women weak in the knees. “Don’t be mad at me anymore. I’ll make it up, I swear. I’ll do anything you want.” he promises between kisses and nips to your skin. “Why are we wasting time arguing? You know, I can make you feel so good. My poor baby, spending all day working so damn hard; you deserve better. I'll help take the edge off...you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I can help, just-”

“Toji, stop-”

“Just let me dammit!”

Toji feels you freeze up; you’re looking back at him with wide eyes. His stomach drops like a rock.

“Sorry…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

No. Now you look scared, maybe a bit concerned; is that for him? Toji can feel some warmth creeping into his chest in spite of everything; you’re so good to him. You went to so much trouble for him and he has no idea why.

You can’t do this. You can’t treat him like a thing to be cherished and then take it all away. Toji just wants things to go back to how they were that morning, with you feeding him berries and syrup drenched pieces of fluffy pancakes, giving him teasing kisses in between each bite, asking what his plans were for the day as he lounges in your lap, wondering what he did to deserve to be so content and full and happy. You made him so happy.

“Shit.” Toji sniffs; he can feel them coming but can’t stop the tears leaking from his eyes. “Shit.” he curses again, bowing his head until it’s resting against your tummy again. “You can’t…you can’t leave me. I won’t let you. I won’t let you abandon me. I can’t-”

“Toji, calm down.” Your voice softens considerably. “Look, do you understand why I’m upset with you?”

“I know, I know I fucked up okay?” Toji croaks, still clinging to your legs. “So what the fuck am I supposed to do, huh? I already said I would do anything you want, so just tell me!”

“Sh, come on, breathe. I need you to calm down, alright?” You bend at the waist slightly, to card your fingers through his damp hair. “Okay, I believe you. I do. I believe you, Toji.”

“Are you gonna kick me out still?”

“No, I won’t for the time being. We can sit down and talk about-whoa!”

Toji wastes no time; he has you lifted off the ground in his arms. You quickly wrap your arms around his shoulders as he makes a beeline for the stairs.

“Slow down!” You glance backward in disbelief at how easily he bounds up the carpet steps. “How are you so strong? Don’t drop me, okay?”

But Toji doesn’t answer; he practically bolts, finally reaching the next level, races down the hallway until he’s at the door to your-the bedroom he and you share. Toji’s heavy boot easily kicks the door open, somehow without breaking it off the hinges; in record time you’re on the bed, but shockingly, Toji doesn’t start stripping you down.

“Toji?” You ask tentatively; he seems fairly out of it and you can’t help feel worried. “Toji, what are you doing?”

“Baby, I’m tired. Let’s just go to bed, huh?”

Toji kicks off his boots, gently sits you down in the middle of the mattress among the fluffy pillows and the cheap plush bunny he won for you at a crane machine. Nearly hyperventilating, Toji climbs into bed after you, snatches the sheets and comforter to wrap around the two of you in a soft cocoon. Toji grabs you, cradling you in close as he tries to even out his breathing; for a fleeting second you wonder if this is what stuffed animals felt, if they could become sentient, when children held them tight for comfort. Your attention is brought back by the man rubbing his face into your hair insistently, as if he could tell your mind had briefly wandered.

“Hey, are you-?”

“Don’t make me go.” Toji cuts you off hoarsely. “You love me, right?”

“I do.”

“Say it.”

“I do love you.” You confess sincerely, words muffled slightly due to your face being squished into his chest; his heart is beating a mile and minute. “I was hurt, alright? I want to be good to you, Toji. You have to let me though; you’re not the type to dance around an issue. I just want you to be honest with me and yourself.”

“Yes, yes, I want that. You’re so good to me, baby, thank you.” Toji wraps his legs around yours; if there was a way for you to mold into him he’d make it happen. “Can I move my stuff back in?”

“I…” You hesitate. “Maybe we’re moving too fast.”

“What? No we aren’t. If anything, we're not moving fast enough. Are you still thinking of leaving?” Toji grabs your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him; his eyes look crazed. “You’re not right? You just fucking said you loved me-!”

“Hey, hey.” You put your hands over his gently. “If you really meant what you said before, you have to listen and be good. Can you do that for me?”

Toji nods quickly. You smile for him, finally, and it's a sight for sore eyes. How do you always look so pretty? Toji’s chest throbs and he hugs you, making your ear press against his heart; you can hear it, right? It almost stopped dead when you were glowering at him, Toji still can't believe he was so close to losing this. It's not going to happen again.

“I wanna touch you.”

Toji separates from you as abruptly as he had squeezed you to him; he hovers above you, tugging on the band of your shorts, your panties. He groans pitifully when you still look unsure. Toji hikes your legs up until your ass is pressed to his chest and he’s face to face with your pussy, still covered up. That won’t do: wordlessly, he rips the seams of your shorts apart and pulls your panties to the side. Gently spreading your pussy lips with his fingers, Toji makes sure to look you in the eyes while he lets a long trail of spit trickle from his tongue to your exposed clit.

“See?” he licks a long strip over your slit, salivating at the taste. “I’m drooling for it, just like a dog….heh, I can be your dog. Is that what you want? I’ll fetch and roll over and beg.” he traces his tongue around your swollen clit. “All you gotta do is ask.”

You can barely form words, forget making requests, as Toji slobbers, licking and sucking until you’re dripping wet. Your hands grip the pillows and your head rolls back and forth; you can hardly speak and you’re more squealing than moaning when Toji starts using his fingers to fuck your soaked pussy.

“I’m loyal too. You’re not ever getting rid of me.”

Toji pulls back, kisses and nips the inside of your thigh as he watches his fingers disappear inside you over and over again. He’s smiling down at you, dumbly, in a daze as you let out soft cries with every pump of his wrist, every time his thumb rubs a touch too hard on your clit. He’s the only one who gets to see you like this, composure gone, face flushed, eyes wide, hardly able to do more than moan and whine at his touches. Toji’s smile turns devilish; he purposefully pulls his fingers out and shoves them back in to draw out the squelch sounds from how wet he’s made you. He slowly drags his fingers out all the way and you inhale sharply from the sensation.

“It’s my turn to spoil you.”

Toji lowers your hips down on the sheets and quickly shrugs off his sweatpants and underwear; his cock bobs when it’s released and you’re a bit shocked at how hard he is despite not touching himself.

“Let me fuck you.” Toji rocks his hips, cock over the inside of your thigh. “You still want me, right?”

And if you think he’s going to stop at one round, if you think for a second one time is going to be enough and you somehow still plan to have him out on his ass, maybe you don’t know him. Toji’s fingers dig into your ass; he’s rutting now, throbbing and dripping precum all over you and the bedspread. It brings a twisted grin to his face, like he’s marking his territory. After all, this is where he belongs. If you won’t be persuaded by his touch and words alone, Toji has other ways, he just doesn't want to resort to making you afraid of him.

Because he meant exactly what he said: you're not getting rid of him. If you try to, Toji will just come back. If you run, he'll chase, if you hide, he'll come looking. You've made him into this.

“’M being good, yeah?” Toji lowers his head to your chest to slobber over your nipples next, barely able to speak with his lips sucking and his tongue flicking over them. “I can keep making you feel good, just let me fuck you, let me put in in, let me wreck you-”

“Toji, I want to ride your cock tonight.” You play with his hair and kiss his jaw. “Can I?”

Toji doesn’t hesitate; he throws himself back to lie on your pillows, getting even harder as your scent hits him. He licks his lips in anticipation as you straddle him, stroking him once before lining the tip up with your pussy. Toji’s eyes roll in the back of his head as you slowly sink down, clenching tight; he has to grab at the sheets and force himself to be still, has to keep telling himself this is for you, he’s going to go at your pace and show you how good he can be, obedient and careful. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger and he loves it-

“It almost hurts. You're so hard.” You gasp when you’re fully seated on his cock. “Oh, Toji…are you going to cum soon?”

“Nah, don’t worry about that baby.” Toji grins up at you, face flushed and hands shaking as they cling to the pillowcase. “So good…it feels so fucking good when I’m all the way inside. Go on, use my cock to cum, ride me until your pussy can’t take it.”

You tilt your hips so the tip of Toji’s cock rubs against that spot that makes you see stars and your clit gets rubbed against him with every thrust. At first you have your hands over his chest, but when Toji tries to slide his hands up to grab at your tits, you stop him.

“Huh?”

“No, you don’t get to touch me.” You pant out, gently but firmly holding Toji’’s hands above his head. “Tha-that’s your punishment.”

Toji’s brow furrows; he’s practically pouting. He knows he said "anything", but he wants to touch you so badly. Your tits look good enough to eat, nipples slick and begging to be played with, and your skin feels like silk on his fingers. Toji watches, biting the inside of his cheek, tasting blood when you start bouncing, thighs taut and face contorted in pleasure as you get closer and closer to making a mess on his lap.

“Baby,” Toji groans. “Come on, let me, you’re close right? It’ll feel better.”

“I can cum like this.” You say playfully as you tap his pursed lips with one finger. “You said you'd be good.”

“Just wanna touch you....” Toji’s hands twitch but he doesn’t shake off your grip; he raises his hips and you let out a whine. “Please?"

You stop moving and Toji grits his teeth, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Hey…why did you stop?”

“Sorry,” You smile in genuine delight. “You’re really adorable, you know that?”

“Fuck, keep goin’,” Toji nibbles the tip of your finger before you pull it away. “Come on, keep making my dick wet,”

“So cute.” You cup his face and press a long, loving kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Toji, I really do.”

Toji can’t stop himself; he yanks you down, traps you in his arms and thrusts up.

“Ah!”

“Sorry, ‘m sorry baby. I gotta,” Toji slurs. “Ah fuck it.”

You shriek as Toji flips you over; he has your legs spread and lowers his face down to suck and kiss and bite at your breasts, slamming his cock as deep inside your pussy as he can go. He briefly touches your hair, patting your head as you scream and writhe, smiling down at you so warmly even as his cock splits you open.

“Can’t help it. Need it, need this so fucking bad.”

Toji latches onto your neck, sucking so hard you think he might tear the skin; you cry out and your nails accidentally scratch long, red lines down his back and shoulders. You’re clawing and sobbing, completely overwhelmed underneath him. He’s fucking you like an animal with no regard for pacing or rhythm, holding you down and open for him to slam his cock inside your swollen little pussy. Toji straightens up to grind himself into you just the way he knows you like best, gently rubbing away at your clit, smirking at the way you gush around his cock. You’re so pretty like this, flushed and messy for him.

“Tell me again. Tell me you love me and I’ll make you cum so hard your legs shake.”

“Love you,” You gasp, arms wrapping around Toji’s bulging neck, drawing him in closer; you press kisses over his cheeks, nose, chin. “I love you, I-ah!”

Toji is done being patient; he keeps his thumb pressed down on your clit, rubbing it harshly as he grinds his cock right into that spot, deep and hard; you’re never going to forget how his cock feels. Toji kisses you none too gently, lips prying your mouth open as he shoves his tongue down your throat; he really doesn’t even mean to be rough this time. The desire to devour you is overtaking him.

He’s so close. Your pussy’s soaking, his head’s spinning; just before Toji’s about to cum, you muster up enough energy to hold him back tightly and pet his hair, moaning softly into the kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist. Toji wanted to last longer, but it’s too much. Abruptly, he breaks the kiss and his mouth goes to your jugular; Toji swears he can feel your pulse under his teeth.

“Cum inside me.” You plead, whimpering into his ear. “I want it…want you, Toji, no one else.”

“Shit.” Toji presses his forehead to yours, hiking up your thighs; the bed is creaking and shaking with the force of his thrusts. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

Toji goes rigid and still as he cums, cock suddenly painfully sensitive; when you smile tiredly and kiss the palm of his hand, actual tears well up in the corners of his eyes. It’s all too much. He didn’t know he could even still feel like this, feel much of anything anymore. You shudder from his hot cum gushing inside you, but Toji doesn’t pull out just yet and you don’t seem in a hurry to move him anyway.

“I think you broke my dick.”

“...pardon me?”

“Pretty sure your pussy drained me dry…fuck.” Toji chuckles tiredly, very slowly pulling himself out, smiling in satisfaction as his cum seeps out of you and onto the sheets. “Did you like that?”

“I loved it.” You tell him softly, just beginning to catch your own breath as Toji uses his shirt to gently wipe you clean between your legs. “Toji?”

“Yeah?” Toji tosses his shirt somewhere and lays over you. “You want me to get you something? I bet you’re real tired after that.”

You pause; you look very serious all of a sudden, all business once more. “Toji, we really should talk about ‘us’. I don’t think we can just return to what we were.”

“What? But you said you loved me.” Toji raises his head to glare at you. “You’re not seeing other men, so put that idea out of your fucking head.”

“That is not what I meant!”

“Okay…what is it then?”

“I was going to say, are you sure this is what you want?” You ask carefully, looking into his eyes. “Is this really what you want?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Toji can’t believe you even have to ask; he frowns and clicks his tongue impatiently. “Fair warning, I’ll find you if you try to leave before I wake up.”

“I don’t doubt it, you’re an excellent tracker.”

“I mean it.” Toji mumbles into the crook of your neck, his heavy arm over your stomach. “You run, I’m hunting you down.”

“I wasn’t planning on making a grand escape; I was thinking something more along the lines of breakfast in bed.” You suggest and smile at the way Toji’s visibly perks up. “Oh, have you had dinner yet?”

“No, I came straight here from the gym.” he lies, eager to have you fuss over him. "I'm really hungry..."

“I’ll order in something; what do you want?”

“Anything, just get lots of it.” Toji squeezes you. “But don’t go yet though. Wanna stay like this a little longer.”

“Whatever you want.”

In minutes, Toji is snoring and curled up in your sheets like a tuckered out puppy; his leg even kicks randomly. When he wakes up to the smell of warm food and your nails gently scratching his scalp, Toji yawns with a groggy smile and opens his mouth for you to feed him, licking crumbs off your fingers greedily. You really do spoil him.

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darkblueboxs · 1 year

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Glass Onion Spoilers - Foreshadowing and Among Us

I’ve seen a few posts dunking on glass onion for being “cringe” because of the Among Us scene and a few praising it for accurately reflecting the fact that this is all everyone was playing in 2020, but I haven’t seen anyone really talk about how brilliantly Among Us works as a foreshadowing/storytelling device.

On the surface - as the film itself points out! - the game is a neat little parallel of the island: one murderer hidden among us, with the objective being to find them out. But this comparison goes far deeper than the basic premise of the film.

Firstly, Benoit appears as the game’s imposter, and then, it is later revealed, is literally an imposter, arriving on the island uninvited under false pretences - one of the first major twists of the film spelled out to the audience in the opening act. And he isn’t alone - just as two imposters generally work together to deceive the other players, so Benoit and Helen work together to infiltrate the group. BUT, and this is the bit that really drives me wild, the endgame format of Among Us perfectly reflects the endgame of the film. The way to win Among Us isn’t necessarily a case of killing everyone or surviving every round - the way to win is by convincing your fellow players to believe you, and to vote accordingly.

During the trial Andi loses because the imposter - the billionaire impersonating a genius - convinces the other players that she should be voted out; she is as effectively thrown out of the airlock as she is the business, and then literally killed to protect the [fortune of] the “crew.”

But, Andi was not the imposter, and so the game continues.

The imposter kills again, and when Miles confesses to causing the lights to go out, this is another excellent hint - only the imposter can sabotage the lights!

Then, with all the characters assembled much like an “Emergency Meeting,” we reach the climax of the film: Miles burns the napkin evidence, and immediately the ensemble is back to the voting booth as Helen, like her sister, fights for the players’ support in voting out the imposter. Any Among Us player will recognise the infuriating feeling when you literally just saw them vent for the love of god you were all there vote them OFF- and that frustration - of speaking the truth and not being believed - is evident in this scene.

But these players don’t care about the truth; they care about surviving (ie staying rich), and so they will vote off an innocent person to placate the shark. Which is absolutely not how you win the game.

Then, then, the game’s final round: the imposter has lost his tools, is revealed for the useless fraud he is, and it’s when he has nothing left to offer the other players that one more vote is held - the characters literally raise their hands as they pledge their support to Helen, in part to give the appearance of swearing in upon the witness stand, but also in part to give the visual of a literal vote... such as that of an Among Us emergency meeting vote.

And it’s when Miles is finally, rightfully ejected that at last, the game is won.

Among Us is a game of social engineering, of lying and convincing others of your lies to prolong your survival, deception, and the malleability of truth. Presenting this game in the opening of the film is more than a gimmick or scene-setter: it illustrates the social structures at the heart of the story.

TLDR: Among Us foreshadows the film’s premise, but also plot twists, character choices, and significantly the film’s resolution by way of group vote.

#glass onion #Knives Out #glass onion spoilers #rian johnson #netflix #benoit blanc #among us #i didnt stop to check specific details beyond character names so if i fudged a detail we are simply going to have to live with it #in this house we delight in and enjoy indie game references that also work as storytelling devices #too busy having fun to be cringe rn #i havent written this much analysis for anything since leaving uni #also fuck netflix's no screenshot policy

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pshcomforts · 1 month

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➳ older | psh.

non!idolsunghoon x fem!reader (feat. jaemin and jisung from nct)

“think i need someone older, just a little bit colder”

synopsis: sunghoon is your brother’s friend who you’ve grown up with, but now you guys share lingering kisses and quiet touches.

warnings/content: written in third pov. suggestive content! tension. sunghoon gets jealous (who’s surprised). he’s also very confident in here. age gap (reader is 18). introverted y/n. cursing and not proofread.

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 5.4k

a/n: fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s boyfriend), min-su (heeseung’s girlfriend), and ji-woo (jake’s girlfriend).

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: older by isabel larosa

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

0:39 ─────|────────────── -1:37

it was a normal, sunny day in the house of y/n and her brother. it had only been the two since their parents had left town for the week.

“hey, i’m gonna have my friends over. stay in your room,” the male said to her.

she gave an eye roll along with a disgusted look in return. “whatever, its not like i talk to your friends,” but she did.

her brother’s friend group consisted of heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon, jaemin, and jisung. the enhypen members had been his long term friends ever since they were little — he met heeseung at the age of 10 and a few years along the way, the 02z liners popped up.

as they grew older, their group expanded when they came across jaemin and jisung in their high school years. ever since then, the group’s been growing and improving together.

with y/n’s brother meeting each boy at such a young age, the girl grew up with them as well. in such luck, her eyes trailed to jaemin. he was always so sweet to her that it caused her heart call to be for him and only him.

well, possibly not just for him.

when y/n got older, she realized that jaemin remained to just be a childhood crush. he was still the same guy she knew him as, but she just grew out of the fond memories she shared with him.

instead, she found herself to constantly look at sunghoon quite more often than she’d think.

she started to see him in a different way. the boy would always go back to the house with her brother after soccer practice, and just little gestures exchanged between the two sent heart throbs.

as time passed, she became more flustered around him — in which caused her to come to terms with the fact that she did like him. but they grew up together, they watched each other mature into the person they were.

that acknowledgement didn’t stop them though.

it had been a party thrown by her brother for who knows what; and one thing lead to another, and sunghoon had randomly admitted his feelings.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ — flashback

“you’re really pretty, you know that?” hoon uttered out in the silence, alcohol slightly reeking out of him.

y/n’s cheeks burned with red as she became flushed. “what?? that’s so random??” she tried to laugh off how awkward it was but only caused it to become more tense.

it was only the two of them in her room. the party was coming to an end with goodbyes, and sunghoon apparently needed his book back that she had borrowed, so they went to her bedroom (it was just an excuse).

when he received the object, he denied the request to go back out there as his social battery was running out (another excuse).

the boy just wanted some alone time, who can blame him?

“i’m serious,” hoon murmured. he turned to face her as they remained to be sitting on the edge of the bed, legs touching and feet near each other.

“uhm.. thank you?” she replied, emphasizing her question mark at the end.

he gave a light chuckle, showing his wide grin as he said, “why’d you say it like that?”

y/n quickly scrunched her brows together, giving a swift shrug to her shoulders before she replied, “i don’t know?? how else am i supposed to thank you?”

“with a kiss.” his lips crashed against hers in an instant. she was taken back for a second but melted in once she felt the tug of his lips.

he pulled away not too long after to let the longing for another sink in. a grin played on his lips, fully amused of her flustered state.

“you just kissed me..,” y/n raised her hands to her lips to graze where his lips had touched hers just seconds ago.

“i like you loser, you haven’t noticed that?” sunghoon said with a chuckle. his brows raised up as he continued to watch her try to find her words.

her mouth opened to speak but nothing could come out. he truly made her at a loss for words with the sudden surge of confidence he had to kiss and confess.

“guess you’ve just been too busy gawking at jaemin huh?” his lips curled into a smirk afterward, causing the girl to hit his shoulder.

“shut up!” they giggled together before the door had suddenly boomed open to the sight of her brother in a drunken state.

“hey.. it’s my friend, sunghoon and my sister, y/n! what are you guys doing?” he slurred out with fluttered eyes.

she rolled her eyes at him while trying to slowly back away from the boy she had just kissed. “oh god, you’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“no bro, my tolerance is good.” his feet soon stumbled down and so did his body. the stupid male fell down to the floor with how drunk he was.

“oh my god…,” she mumbled, giving a heavy sigh as she kneeled down beside him.

sunghoon softly laughed at watching how the siblings interacted.

“sorry..” she slightly whispered to him as she shook her brother who was on the floor.

“it’s okay y/n, we’ll talk soon.” he blinked his eyes in reassurance as he walked over to his friend. “rest well dude,” a soft pat was made to the boy on the floor as hoon smiled and walked out her bedroom door.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

they haven’t talked as much since then.

and as much as y/n’s brother denied it, he was protective of her and sunghoon knew that. he had a younger sister himself, so he understood.

he always remembered the words of her brother that echoed in his head — “y/n’s my little sister, she’s off limits.”

in retrospect, they specifically went out to jaemin as y/n’s name always rolled off of his tongue.

but sunghoon liked the girl. he always did. watching each other grow was something special as he admired from afar.

when she got to an older age, he found it difficult to get her out of his head. they were three years apart though and he acknowledged that, so he tried to move on.

but it didn’t help that they had just kissed months ago. she’d been stuck in his mind just as he was to her.

so when her brother had mentioned his friends coming over, she had to act as if she was unfazed.

a few knocks on the door were made and the whole friend group came flooding in. the boys soon comfortably situated themselves on the couch.

“where’s y/n?” jaemin asked, taking a sip of his opened soda afterward. sunghoon’s ears perked up as he waited for the answer.

“who cares about her?” her brother responded, truthfully remaining a little curious as to why he asked for her.

“oh come on, your sister’s cute.”

the girl’s brother morphed into an appalled look. “ha ha very funny. you’re disgusting, jaemin.”

he raised his arms in defense, hearing the others chime in as well. “that’s his little sister, bro.” jake said with a chuckle.

“says the one who’s dating her friend!”

the australian boy quickly shut his mouth after.

“he’s got you there,” heeseung amusingly added.

jaemin puffed out his lips as he let air pass. “you’re dating her other friend, hee” jisung squeaked out with a giggle.

heeseung became quiet, causing loud laughs to erupt from the group.

“you guys may be dating her friends, but that doesn’t mean you can date her.” y/n’s brother defensively said.

sunghoon trailed his eyes from the left and then to the right as he quietly whispered, “oh fuck.”

they weren’t exactly dating, but they still shared small pecks on the lips whenever they had the chance.

he couldn’t help it, it was like a craving.

“you’re quiet hoon,” jake mischievously spoke.

everybody landed their eyes on the boy as he took a gulp. “i just need to take a piss” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact as he got up and left.

“strange…,” y/n’s brother uttered.

“strange indeed,” heeseung whispered, sharing a suspicious glance to jake. they definitely heard something from their partners.

as sunghoon found his way to the bathroom, he also searched for y/n. luckily, her bedroom was near so he didn’t have to look far.

“y/n?” he quietly peeped, head peaking through the crack of the door.

a gasp was heard from the other end. “sunghoon?” she harshly whispered, widening the door crack to a smiley hoon.

“missed you,” he quietly mumbled in her ear while closing the door behind him. his arms wrapped around her, sighing in the warm embrace she exuded.

“missed you too.” she shyly said back with her head against his broad chest.

“y/n?? is that sunghoon?” her airpod muffled out.

the boy raised his brows before turning his head to her phone and finding her on call with her friends — min-su, dae, and ji-woo.

“you’re calling them?”

“yeah..”

in seconds, she could hear them go quiet in her ears, only for them to go loud again with booming questions; a few about their boyfriends who were at her house and a few about their undefined relationship.

she groaned out a sigh before double tapping her airpod, disconnecting from the call.

“sorry, i wanted to be kept busy while you guys were here.” y/n pushed her lips into a firm line to display how awkward she was feeling.

hoon gave a chuckle as a response — “i could’ve been helping you with that.” his brows raised in a suggestive way, earning a loud slap on his arm.

“ew sunghoon!” her face struck in horror as his words replayed in her ears.

truth be told, she got butterflies in her stomach with how close he was when he said it, but that didn’t stop her from hitting him. “the way you’re so confident right now is crazy, what if my brother finds you in my room like this?”

the inner corner of his lips slowly curled in mischief. “don’t worry gorgeous, he hasn’t found out the past few times i’ve visited you for a kiss.”

y/n’s eyes widened at the nickname. “gorgeous??? god hoon, you need to be put down.” she shook her head before rubbing her fingers on her temple. the boy was stressing her out but she was secretly enjoying the little things he was risking for her.

“i’m serious loser, if he finds out, we’re both done for. you know how he is!”

sunghoon grinned ear to ear, simply melting from her stressed state. “i know i know, you’re just so mesmerizing that i have to come back to you.”

he grabbed her chin from the bottom and smiled in amusement, enjoying how flustered he could make her with his flirtatious acts.

“i don’t know whether to feel disgusted or special right now,” she murmured, slightly killing the romantic mood.

he scoffed at her words. “you should feel special.” his head dipped lower to her lips, foreheads bunking while closing the gap as she whispered, “should i?”

his lips curled into a smile, uttering — “mhm” before letting their lips meet. her hands wrapped around his neck to pull him closer.

it was a soft kiss with how gentle he was going, but he still let a low groan leave his lips as his brows scrunched together.

hoon had finally got his craving, but the hungry desire was building up.

before he could go any further, y/n quickly pulled away to let him linger for more. he tried to connect their lips back together again but she stopped him with a head turn.

sunghoon was confused and his face showed it, causing the girl to softly laugh at his reaction.

“that was cute, but you have to go back before he notices you weren’t even in the bathroom in the first place.” she quietly said against his lips.

“so let him,” he groaned out before attempting to swoop in for another kiss.

she dodged it again as she shook her head. “no hoon, i’m serious. he might actually kick your ass.”

sunghoon rolled his eyes, tone becoming bitter as he replied, “so close to telling him for us.”

she gave a giggle at his words before nudging his arm. “just go back.”

“but-“

“hoon??” a voice from the hallway called out.

the two froze together before y/n slightly pushed him away from her.

the voice didn’t belong to her brother, but she knew it was one of the boys.

in seconds, jake peaked in through the door. he caught on a little too quick as he automatically smiled.

“what’s going on in here hm?”

sunghoon’s face peered into repulse at the sight of his friend. “shut up dude.”

jake softly chuckled before continuing on, “he sent me up here to check on you since you were taking too long in the bathroom. guess you just got lost in y/n’s room huh?”

y/n smiled and shook her head at the boy. “shut up jake…,”

he laughed in return as sunghoon’s cheeks were faintly colored red. “i’ve been knowing all along bro, ji-woo told me already. jisung owes me.. but you don’t have to look all embarrassed.” he nudged his arms in a playful way as the girl continued to laugh. “her brother might kill you though..”

“let’s just go. you’re embarrassing me,” sunghoon muttered, grabbing hold of the shorter boy to leave the room.

“hey don’t worry, i won’t tell anyone! and tell ji-woo to text me back y/n, yeah?” jake shouted. he earned a head smack from hoon in return so her brother couldn’t hear anything.

the two bickered like siblings as they walked through the hallway, leaving y/n alone in her bed. a smile curled onto her lips before she went back to her phone and rejoined the call with her friends, not forgetting to tell ji-woo to text jake back.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

days had passed since the boys came over. within the time gone, y/n’s brother had received news that he was getting promoted to a higher position in his job.

to celebrate, a party came in mind.

night arrived and the event soon began.

the party didn’t consist of a lot of people, but there were enough to cause social anxiety in the host’s sister.

she didn’t bother to converse with many people as she stayed near her friends — who, of course, were dating her brother’s friends so she stayed lingering around by herself.

the poor girl sighed to herself as she was alone.

no sight of hoon could be found but even if she did find him, she couldn’t risk it. to be quite frank, they hadn’t talked in a while. and along with that, they hadn’t kissed, so tension between them was growing.

it only worsened though when she found him to be talking to some girl.

just a random girl she didn’t know.

it didn’t matter that she didn’t know who that girl was, it mattered that he was talking to someone else who wasn’t her.

the 5’11 boy was seemingly enjoying the conversation he was having with her, laughing about who knows what. it boiled her blood to see that he was giving that same smile he gave her when they kissed the day that jake interrupted them.

she knew it was to throw off suspicions from her brother but did he really have to do it too well?

✩ ‘baby, am i your little secret?’ ✩

“want some company?” a familiar voice asked her, interrupting her train of thought.

y/n looked up and found jaemin offering her a can of soda. “sure,” she murmured with a smile.

he took the seat beside her as he sighed. “it’s overwhelming isn’t it?”

she peeked her eyes at him once she took a sip of her beverage. “yeah… i’d rather not interact with all of them.” her chuckle was soft as he reflected it in the same tone.

“still the same shy girl i know huh?”

she didn’t like him anymore, but that sure had her slightly flustered. her eyes widened a bit as she turned to him — “i’m not shy! i just don’t want to talk to people” — she defended.

jaemin’s laugh became louder as he teased, “yeah right. i know you y/n, you’re not one to talk first.”

the girl rolled her eyes in defeat. “okay okay fine.”

he grinned again while bunking shoulder to shoulder with her. “so who are you willing to talk to then?”

they met eyes right away and almost immediately, his gaze softened.

her inner child would be screaming with how close he was right now.

but she didn’t like him, not anymore. she liked sunghoon.

and no matter how close her old crush was near her, she couldn’t stop thinking about how hoon might’ve been doing something else with that girl.

y/n softly pulled away as her eyes twinkled in the light. “just anyone really,” she said with a half smile.

jaemin’s left corner of his lips curled as he smiled and nodded.

“i used to like you, you know?” he suddenly admitted.

her head quickly whipped to him as he chuckled at her reaction. “yeah i used to like you but i backed off because of your brother.”

she felt her heart pounding from his words but she didn’t know if it was from her younger self screaming in joy, or what.

“you did?” the girl asked, fingertips unusually becoming numb.

he nodded his head and gave a bread smile. “you were so cute when you were little.” he gazed his eyes down, going into remembrance of how they used to be in their younger years.

when y/n opened her mouth to speak, she felt a quick tug fling at her wrist.

in seconds, she was pulled away from the brown haired boy who was just as confused as her. her eyes glanced up and found a jealous sunghoon in front of her.

from what she didn’t see, hoon had been observing from afar. he didn’t mean to go stalker mode but he couldn’t help it with how jaemin had suddenly approached his girl.

his eyes darted at the two, resisting it all in himself to not pull her right away. he had enough of it though when he saw how close his friend had gotten to her. his jaw clenched when he imagined the possibility of jaemin connecting his lips with the girl he’s been wanting to kiss.

“hoon?”

“shut up.” he angrily spat out.

his grip accidentally became tighter as he continued to drag her up to her room, not caring if her brother had seen (he didn’t).

when they finally got to her room, he shut the door and pinned her against it.

she slightly winced in pain, almost causing him to let go of his rough act. it didn’t work though because the thought of jaemin and her closely together angered him even more.

he felt a bitter grudge fill every inch of his body as his jaw tensed, eyes staring deeply into hers.

“you gonna keep talking to jaemin, or should i tell your brother?” one hand was slammed against the door, near her head as the other still held onto her, caging her to himself.

“you know jaemin and i aren’t-“

“then why do you keep talking to him?” sunghoon cut her off, sounding sour in his tone as his eyes never dared to leave hers.

y/n slightly rolled her eyes. she liked seeing him jealous but he was honestly annoying her.

“why do you care?” she challenged. her lips softly grinned as he mirrored it, enjoying how confident she got.

he inched his face closer to hers, breath becoming hot and heavy against her — allowing the girl to reel in the scent of alcohol he radiated.

their lips were so close to touching, so close to finally meeting again after days of intense silence.

sunghoon lingered his eyes on her lips, tracing every part of it with his vision before moving onto her eyes.

the boy peered his gaze into her, slowly displaying that his orbs were pleading with lust and hunger.

he licked his lips, letting his tongue peek a little for her to see as he raised his brows and gave a smug smile at the same time.

“you belong to me,” he whispered.

butterflies and nervous sensations hit every part of y/n’s body with just those words. she felt weak in the knees in how he delivered his sentence.

the words were so possessive and yet charming.

hoon’s head dipped in to close the small gap between them, only for y/n to stop him with a hand on his chest.

the tension couldn’t be cut through with how much they craved for each other.

he slightly backed away, brows faintly raising as she shook her head. “you’re drunk, sunghoon.”

he gave a laughing scoff before letting his eyes trail back to her lips. “am i? because why is it that all i can imagine right now is how you kissed me the other day.”

he placed his thumb on her bottom lip, pulling it back as his mouth opened as well. a soft groan erupted out of his throat while holding himself back from smashing their lips against each others.

she was so close to giving in.

his desperation for a kiss had her almost folding. but she had to stop herself.

he was drunk, and she wasn’t about to take advantage of his vulnerable state.

it was something, but it was not the way.

when sunghoon tried to dive in for another kiss on the lips, y/n’s hands firmly placed itself on his muscled shoulders.

“you’re not in the best state to make decisions right now.” she stared deeply at him as he furrowed his brows.

“are you sure about that?” hoon’s head drooped to her shoulders, allowing her to instantly feel his hot breath.

he whimpered out a sigh at the feel of his lips on her clothed skin. “you drive me crazy,” he whispered, placing wet kisses at her shoulder and leading up to her collarbone.

as he attempted to do so, his eyes closed a little longer than he wished. and instantly, he was knocked out.

she huffed out a sigh, half in laughter and half in annoyance that his body weight was suddenly depending on her. “geez,” she mumbled. “kissing me and now you’re asleep.”

her hands pushed him off of her so he could fall back on the bed.

the girl smiled as her gaze softened with each second she admired him. “sleep well idiot,” she whispered before turning out the lights.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

when morning came, sunghoon’s eyes forced itself awake from the bright light.

a pounding was taken to the head as he groaned out in pain. he looked around, eyes scanning everywhere as little placements of the room began to be recognized.

he peaked his head up to the left, soon finding a barrier of pillows in the middle of the bed, separating him and the girl he liked. y/n remained softly asleep on her side as she was all the way at the edge of the bed.

once he blinked enough to gain conscious of how far she was, he softly smiled.

“cute,” he quietly mumbled to himself.

as he was about to reach for a blanket to cover her up, the door was suddenly opened to y/n’s brother. his mouth gaped open in shock as his eyes widened.

“what the hell are you doing in my sister’s room???” he loudly questioned, awakening y/n.

she blinked in confusion before gaining hold that she slept in the same bed as sunghoon, and her brother had just caught her.

“calm down,” she grumbled while tiredly rubbing her eyes.

her brother clicked his tongue before yelling — “get the hell out of her bed sunghoon! what the hell is wrong with you?”

with said, hoon jumped out of the bed, only for the older boy to skip close to him. “that’s my sister!!”

“okay look-“

“no! get out! you are not getting anywhere closer to her”

“you can’t do that!” y/n defensively screamed.

“shut the hell up! you’re a kid, you can’t- he can’t- just get out of here sunghoon!”

the younger male quickly rushed out, not needing to be told twice to do such a thing as he panicked.

a few hours passed and her brother continued to rage even though hoon had left.

“are you kidding me, y/n??”

she rolled her eyes and sighed. “it’s not that big of a deal as you’re making it.”

“you’re eighteen and he’s twenty-one dumbass! he’s older than you by three years, what makes you think this is okay??”

“we like each other and it’s genuine.”

“you’re a kid, y/n. he’s gonna be in his mid twenties soon and you just turned eighteen. you don’t even know what’s best from left to right. how are you gonna handle it if he breaks up with you??

“well i guess we’ll just have to wait and see huh!” she yelled, rolling her eyes and rubbing her temple in irritation. “three years isn’t as bad as you’re making it.”

“it is when you’re just fucking eighteen, stupid.”

“calm the fuck down,” she took a sigh in as she mentally told herself to calm down. “okay look, i know you’re pissed because he’s your friend and he’s three years older than me, but i’m telling you, him and i match really well.”

her brother gave a soft scoff, shaking his head in disappointment as he said, “you’re just gonna get hurt, dumbass.”

she knew he was being protective, but he couldn’t control her love life.

“sunghoon and i are-“

“are what? together now?” he ridiculed.

y/n rolled her eyes. “would it really be that bad for us to be together?”

before she could say anything else, he walked away. her brother didn’t want to hear what she had to say anymore. the argument would only be going back and forth so he left it as it is.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a few days had passed since the incident, and y/n’s brother hasn’t talked to her or sunghoon.

in fact, y/n and hoon haven’t talked to each other either. they felt it best to keep a distance for the time being.

when it was late in the night, the girl was calling the same four friends as usual. they yapped on and on about various topics.

as her friend, dae continued to talk about his date with jungwon, a light tapping was made on the window.

being the paranoid girl she was, her heart stopped before she turned to her phone — “did you guys hear that?? that wasn’t just me right..,”

“girl.. i heard it too,” said ji-woo with a clear eyebrow raise.

“uhm me too but i didn’t want to say it,” dae quirked out.

“you’re being haunted y/n,” min-su commented with a smile.

“shut up!” the girl on the other end yelled, hands shakily grabbing hold of the phone to see if she missed any notifications that could be related to the tapping window.

indeed, she did.

hoonie :) : It’s me

hoonie :) : Open please ..

y/n huffed out a sigh as she went to the window. “hold on guys, i’ll be back.” she told her friends, ending the call while opening the window to sunghoon.

he came tumbling in, chest heaving up and down. “finally,” he breathed.

“what are you doing here, sunghoon?” her arms folded together in curiosity.

the boy breathed heavily as he caught his breath.

“i just..,” he stopped himself to get closer to her, hands cupping her cheeks as he lovingly stared. “i just wanted to see you.”

“what if-“

“it’s okay, i’ll only be here for a second. i just really missed you.”

y/n cracked a smile as his cheesy words caused her heart to thump in joy.

“i missed you too…,” she quietly said before leaning in for a small peck on the lips.

“you just stole my next act,” hoon replied with a pout.

she laughed at his reaction, rolling her eyes as her hands trailed up to his own. “just do it again.”

and he did.

the male pushed himself toward her lips after being granted with permission.

his hands became tighter around her cheeks as he forced more of his lips on hers, pushing her back so she could hit the wall. she softly groaned from the act while he felt relieved to feel her lips on his again.

with them keeping a distance, the tension easily grew and the kiss had just satisfied that, but he craved for more.

he was hungry, and thrilled, even, to finally have their lips connect. it was evident with how much his grip tightened around her waist.

the girl finally pulled away, hands holding him back as she panted deeply for fresh air. “gosh..,” she breathed, fisting her hands so she could harshly bump it against his strong chest.

sunghoon gave a faint laugh in return. his head bunked against hers as he placed a sweet kiss on the top of her nose.

“i’ve been waiting.”

y/n rolled her eyes, softly hitting his arm as she said, “he’s really gonna find out!”

“let him, he already knows.”

he connected his lips with hers again, almost sloppy with the way they touched, but it was nothing but sweet.

he intended to keep the mood that way and so did she.

“hoon..,” she mumbled against his lips. “he could-“

“shut up.” sunghoon smashed his lips against hers, muffling out the leftover words in her mouth as she melted into it.

she felt her heart rate exceed at an unhealthy pace when his finger nails dug into the flesh of her waist.

he pulled away again, panting hard while still leaving littered kisses on her lips.

“stop kissing me, hoon! im scared,” she pushed him away with a hit on his shoulder.

sunghoon only chuckled as a reaction, finding it amusing with how afraid she was. his fangs shined in her eyes as he continued to laugh.

“you’re cute when you worry,” he teased.

his hand reached to her hair, tucking a few strands behind as he looked at her with yearning eyes.

“gorgeous girl,” he whispered before placing a soft kiss on her cheek. “your brother may scare me too, but he can’t completely break us apart.”

y/n’s lips curled into a smile as she quietly agreed. “plus, you’re already mine.” he added on, intertwining his hands with hers and raising it as proof.

she rolled her eyes and nodded her head — “fine fine, but if he catches us, i’m blaming you.”

he cracked out a laugh — “okay gorgeous.” he dragged her to her bed before wrapping his arms around her. his head rested on top of hers as their legs dangled together.

as they remained on the bed, trying to be as secretive as possible, y/n checked her phone real quick to text her group chat that she wasn’t gonna join back.

but a few quick texts from her brother had stopped her.

‘I know he’s there dumbass’

‘He better treat you right’

she grinned ear to ear after feeling a heavy weight lift off of her shoulders.

a quick like and response to the message was made before shutting her phone off and turning to sunghoon.

“he knows,” she whispered.

his eyes blew up in shock. “he does??”

“mhm, and he’s okay with it so you better be glad.” she said, letting her hands go to his hair to play with it.

y/n picked at the soft strands that peaked out, smiling as she felt her heart warming up with him.

hoon watched her play with his hair, eyes longing with love as her embrace was becoming home to him.

the two stayed in their position a little longer before ultimately deciding to watch a movie together.

the night ended in a softhearted silence as they slept in each other’s arms. she was sound asleep with his hoodie on while he clung onto her.

everything felt right with the world now that they were together without the burden of her brother.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

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caesium-55 · 1 month

Text

—seven days. [ iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: hi hello welcome to part three. i flunked the quiz. lemme know what you think. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED. this chapter kinda sux. can't believe i went through a breakup just last week and i still cant write decent post-breakup scenes.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab hope i didn't forget anyone.

masterlist.

you: *sent a link*

him: ?

him: what's this

you: benefits of crying

you: read it it's enlightening

him: some people do not cry over a breakup you know and that is totally okay

you: why crying helps.

you: 1. tears release toxins, stress hormones to be specific. it is good to let all the bad energy out.

you: 2. it aids sleep. no need for further explanation.

you: 3. crying releases oxytocin and endorphins. i know you don't know what an oxytocin or an endorphin is but they're happy chemicals.

you: 4. crying helps you receive the support you need from the people around you. EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY is okay, max. stop treating it like an STD.

him: it feels like an std

you: pussy

you: emotional vulnerability is a thing and it's normal so stop trying to be a big strong man when you're barely holding it together.

you: you may look fine now but i know you

him: please stop

you: no

you: 5. crying has a self soothing effect. very nice actually. it activates the rest and digest system.

him: what even is that

you: the parasympathetic nervous system

him: ??

you: this is why you shouldn't have dropped out of high school

you: education is important yknow

you: youre already lacking in three forms of intelligence, academic, emotional n social intelligence

him: fuck you im smart

you: fuck you 2 and yeah you're smart but only in geography

you: you probably can't do your taxes

him: im dutch so the company's account department do it for me by default

him: the american system is just weird

you: cant argue w/ u there

you: also, 6. crying helps restore emotional balance

you: see? you need that

you: yknow now that i think abt it you should consider seeking therapy

him: what makes you think i’m not in therapy right now

you: well have you considered getting MORE therapy?

You stand in front of the body mirror, holding the Red Bull polo shirt against your body to see how it looks on you for one last time. On your right sleeve, the word MANAGER is written in bold, white text. Because that was what you were. Just a manager.

In another universe this is not the shirt that you’d be wearing. The MANAGER would have been ENGINEER. In another another universe where your family has been well-off enough to continuously send you to karting school and you would have been the one driving the fucking car by now.

You know, if Max has even tried talking to Horner and suggested that you should be moved into the engineering team, then you wouldn't be stuck wearing this god-awful polo that burned your skin every time you wore it for work. Everybody reduced you as Max’s American manager and because you are American, most of them kind of just assumed that you're dumb, you know?

Does the world even know how smart you are? That you graduated top of your class, got the best thesis award, and that you had finished your masters just this year? Did they even know that a Japanese car company wanted you on their research team? That a NASCAR team wanted you on board as one of their engineers? Does Max even know?

Fuck no. He only knows that you're the best at ironing clothes and organizing his Google calendar and memorizing his entire coffee order by heart. He knew you're good at extinguishing kitchen fires and kicking ass in YSL Opyum heels. You doubt he knows that you can do Calculus in your sleep.

You can take it if the world puts you down for your appearance. But if the world puts you down because of your intellect? That's a different story. You'll take any insult to the face but not to your intelligence.

You have four days left in Monaco so you have begun packing already. You're right, everything did fit into three suitcases. Also, you haven't told Max yet. For some reason, you’re too anxious. Which is shocking to say the least because you never ever gets anxious when it came to Max Verstappen. You wouldn't have lasted this long working alongside Max if you were a pussy.

Max Max Max Super Max Max—

“[Name] here. Need anythin’, champ?”

Hearing a sob on the other end of the line immediately activates your fight or flight response. Your eyes widen and you toss the Red Bull shirt aside. Your legs leads you to the nearly empty shoe rack stationed beside the front door, grabbing the pair of shoes at the very top of the tiny shelf and throwing them on.

“I’m comin’ there. Hang on, Max. You wait for me, okay?”

He doesn't answer, just continuing to sob and the sound absolutely breaks your heart.

You run to his penthouse at a speed that will even put the RB19 to shame. Not even bothering to knock, you barge in and yell his name in the empty halls of his penthouse. You search in the kitchen. He's not there. The living room. Not there either. The room where his simulations are. Not there. You run to his bedroom upstairs.

The door is locked. Dammit. Panic overflooded your system.

“Max, sweetheart, you there?”

No answer, but you can hear a faint sound behind the door if you press your ear against the wood. Firefighter training covered how to open a fucking door when it was locked so this once again becomes a situation where you're grateful that you did that tiring and borderline suicidal volunteer work.

Max keeps a fire extinguisher inside his penthouse as per your advice. There is one stationed in almost every room inside his house. You knew there is one inside his room and another one just at the end of the hallway. You make a quick run for it and once you have the extinguisher in your hands, you run back to his door.

“Step away from the door!” you instructed while your mind mentally calculates your payment plan as you hit the door knob with so much force, the walls tremble at your strength. You're functioning on pure adrenaline. Your instincts only yell one thing and that is: go to Max. No one and nothing in this world will keep you from him. It isn't long until his bedroom door broke down. With one last final kick, it crumbles down from its hinges and you forcefully pry it open and sprint inside.

Max tucks himself in the tiny space in the corner of his huge bedroom, his knees shoved up to his chest. A 181-cm tall man trying to make himself as small as possible.

This is it. This is the bottled-up emotions he's been storing since Abu Dhabi. You cannot say you have not anticipated this. Max is bound to explode sooner or later.

Panic attacks have made a home in Max’s body since he was a child. That's what one gets when they’re parented by someone like Jos Verstappen. He killed Max’s soul and made the boy a machine and for what? To shape a child into a man, a racer that he wanted to be but failed to become at the cost of Max's mental health and childhood.

When Max looks up with that heartbreaking look on his face, you almost crumble. Almost, because you cannot crumble. Not when Max needs you.

Sometimes, you forget what it took for Max to become the champion that he is today. A childhood sacrificed for his dominance on the tracks. A whole lot of hatred from the people to become a WDC. And now, a love lost for his third consecutive championship.

“You came,” his voice cracks towards the end.

Your eyes soften, “You called, Max. Course I’ll come.”

You barely brace yourself for the impact that is Max’s body wrapping around yours in a tight hug. The man have literally launch himself from the floor to you at sixth gear speed. You stumble backwards slightly, holding his bed for support so the both of you won't fall down.

“Max—”

“No,” he whispers and his grip on your tightens as if he's afraid that you’ll slip away if he even tried to give your lungs space to breathe. “Don't speak. Stay.”

What Max wanted, what Max would get. So you shut your mouth, shuffle slightly so he'll be in a more comfortable position and allow him take whatever he wants from you. This will be the last chance he’ll ever do it anyway because in four days time, you’re flying to Texas.

You stay for what is probably hours in that position. Crumbled together on the floor, leaning against the side of Max’s king-sized bed. Your shirt is completely damp from his tears but you cannot even bring yourself to care about it.

“Your shoes…” It's the first time Max has spoken since the start of his meltdown.

“Hm?” you turn your head and your nose nuzzles against his hair, making you scrunch it up a little. His hair is tickling your nostrils. If you lean a little forward, your lips will meet the skin of his temple.

“They’re mismatched.”

Brows furrowed, your eyes move to your feet and see that Max is right. Your shoes are indeed mismatched. On your left is one of your Adidas slides and the other is your slip-on Skechers. You ran from one building to another in mismatched shoes. Fucking embarassing.

“Ignore them.”

Silence.

“You good now?”

“No.”

“Okay,” you say. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

You hear Max let out a shaky breath, “Just stay for a while. Don't leave me alone.”

“Okay.”

Eventually, you manage to talk Max out of the hug. You're beginning to feel claustrophobic but you do not want to say it out right so you try to negotiate instead. That's how you and Max found yourselves inside his kitchen again. You're trying to replicate your Abuela's cheesecake, which she was known for back in Austin, and Max is…well, he's Max and he’s trying to be helpful in any way he can. If it's some other day, you'd have shoved him out of the way because you prefer working alone in the kitchen. Having eyes on you gives you anxiety. But given today’s circumstances, you do not have the heart to make Max leave so you task him with doing the little stuff like mixing things and throwing shit to the trash can nearby. And he does so splendidly.

“Thank you, by the way.”

“For what, baby?” You internally wince at your own slip of the tongue. Damn that habit of yours of calling people with affectionate call signs. Thankfully, Max seems to have not noticed it.

“For coming here.”

You shrug.

“I only did what you did for me in 2021.”

Again, your breakup with Leo was bad bad. You spent a month crying for a love lost and Max was there for you. For the most part, at least. You want him to focus on winning and winning alone that you pushed him away a lot of times but you appreciated how he was more obedient to your commands, that he held his tongue so he wouldn't piss you off even though he was not liking your words, and that he was considerate of you.

“I hope you won't go into fights though,” you chuckle. “Like I did after my breakup.”

He smiles, shaking his head lightly and you know he's recalling the memory. 2021 is a hilarious year for you, the Red Bull manager. You went viral after getting into a cat fight with a girl and a whole fist fight with her boyfriend.

You and Leo called it quits a week before Monaco and even though it had been four races since then, your heart was still in a quite fragile state at that specific race weekend. One minor inconvenience was enough to ignite a wild blaze of fire within you and nobody could extinguish the flames.

After Silverstone FP1, you were leading Max to the cool down room to brief him with Horner’s relayed instructions and someone had thrown a glass bottle towards the both of you while walking. Originally, Max was the main target of the bottle but you happened to have moved towards the line of trajectory and the bottle landed on your temple, hard enough that you stumbled upon impact.

You barely heard Max’s shocked gasp and shout of panic over the sound of glass shattering on your foot because the only thing you could register was the terrifying feeling of a thick liquid trickling down the side of your face and you didn't even need to see it to know it was blood.

The only thing you saw was red and it was on fucking sight.

Fucking Hamilton fan. Fucking Hamilton. He’s in Max’s way. He’s in your way. He’s the wall that was dividing you from your dream position in the engineering team.

You shoved the iPad you were holding to Max’s hands and marched down to the woman wearing the Merc #44 merch, swiftly jumping over the barricade and grabbing her by the collar of her pristine white Versace top.

The events that followed were too fast. You grabbed her collar. She pulled your hair. You also pulled her hair. Someone pulled her away from you. You tried to grab her, clawing her bare arms with your manicured nails. She screamed. You screamed back. You pulled out some curse words in Spanish as well because cursing her in one language alone is not enough. Her boyfriend appeared. A quick punch to your cheek. You fell to the ground.

The world stood still. There was a sting on your palm because your skin got torn from the hard surface of the concrete ground. You let a bloodcurdling war cry and your Dad would definitely be disappointed at you for using the boxing techniques he taught you for self defense purposes only to fight a guy two times your size.

Everything was a bigger blur from there. But you did remember the sensation of Max’s strong arms around you, stopping you from lunging forward again. He was saying sweet words to your ear to calm you down but your brain failed to intercept them so you could hear the words, could hear his voice, but not understand any of it. You remember Christian Horner's disappointed face that haunted you even two years later. You remembered feeling so terrified as you sat outside Christian Horner’s office waiting for the final verdict while he and Max and a few of the Red Bull higher-ups argued about your future with the team. You remembered hearing Max’s loud snarl on the other side of the mahogany door: “Did you see her face?! There was blood everywhere! On her nose, on her mouth, on the fucking side of her head!” You remembered the girl taking the case to court. You remembered fearing that you’d be sent to jail. You remembered that she lost the case because it was ruled as self defense and your injuries were grave. You remembered discovering that it was Max who used all his power and got the best lawyer to fight your case. You remembered the atmosphere in the Red Bull garage shifting when you entered it a few weeks later and everyone stared the bandages and bruises. Everyone thought one thing: of course, it would also take a monster to manage a monster like Max Verstappen. You remembered Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, apologizing personally for the fight caused by his own fan. He didn't need to but he was so sincere with it that you cried when he handed you the apology flowers. God, how could you even hate this man? Your anger towards him was misplaced.

You’d been living with the guilt ever since, that you were horrifyingly violent for a day, that you were capable of killing for a day. And it could happen again. One day. God, you hoped you wouldn't have to see that day. You knew all your coworkers have been careful with angering you ever since. They're terrified of you even. Max should be, too. But then again, why would he when he already saw the horrors done by his father’s hands ever since he was a child? He was used to it.

“I won't,” he says, smiling at you. “I wouldn't want to add anymore problems for you to clean up.”

But you will not be the one cleaning it up because you resigned. You didn’t tell that to him though. Not right now. He just had a meltdown over Kelly leaving him and the news of his manager leaving him too will destroy him.

The cheesecake is a little burnt when you take it out of the oven but it actually adds more flavor to it so yeah, that's a win.

“We should drink,” you suggest.

“It’s mid-afternoon.”

“We drank at mid-afternoon yesterday,” you give him a blank stare. “With Alex and Charles, remember?”

He doesn't say anything as you make your way to his fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. Max has champagne stored somewhere but you have enough of those expensive champagnes. You need beer. Beer is good. Beer is nice. You're a beer type of person and it is time Max becomes one, too.

“I’m no scientist,” you begin, biting off the beer’s bottle cap. “But according to chemistry, alcohol is solution.”

Well, technically, edible alcohol or ethanol is not a mixture. Rather, it's a pure substance that happens to be a liquid at room temperature and typical atmospheric pressure. Pure ethanol is not a solution. Hard spirits though? That's a solution.

Beer is not a hard spirit. It's more of a fermented drink. But Max doesn't know that, though, so you don't bother explaining the science behind it.

Somewhere down the road, the two of you move to his living room. You use the Youtube app in his TV to search karaoke video and have the bestest time of your lives. You're screaming along some Daddy Yankee and El Alfa songs and Max doesn't know how to speak Spanish so he’s just vibing to it.

At 5 PM, you pull out Max’s expensive vodka bottle. Now this is the real shit. The ten bottles of beer? Those are just pregame. Max is already drunk with just those because he’s a pussy but you’re no pussy, so the only right answer is vodka! Viva la vodka or whatever.

Your throat gets tired of singing and Max gets tired from dancing, too, so you both decide to just go entertain yourselves in other ways. First, you introduced Max to beer-pong. He loses, of course. He sucks at everything not racing. Then, the two of you move onto chess. Max gives up mid-game. He cannot understand the rules. Then, lastly, you move to the billiard table Max owned. He only used it when the other guys are over and you do not even know why he bought it when he sucked at playing billiards.

“You know what Kelly said the morning before the race?” Max suddenly says and you look up at him, brow raising slightly. He’s drunk; his skin is flushed and he is all giggly and smile-y as he sits on the billiard table’s side rail and using the billiard stick as some sort of support stand to keep him from falling. You hope he won't accidentally poke himself. You're no better, too. Ten beer bottles and a few glasses of vodka. But you’re not as drunk as Max, and you still have a straight vision and you can still sink the colored balls into the pockets of the billiard table.

“Hm?”

“That it was unfair for her.”

You raise a questioning brow, “Why?”

“I bought shoes and they don't fit her.”

You blink. He laughs at himself as if he has uttered the funniest joke in the world.

“Three years of relationship gone because of a single pair of shoes,” he continues. “She wanted those shoes, too.”

Kelly….what the fuck?

“But that's okay. She….She made me open my eyes, you know? She made me realize what I truly love.”

“Racing.” It's not even a question. It's the truth.

Max stares at you, long and hard, and you look away first because you fear that if you allow yourself to stare too long, you’ll drown in those beautiful blues. This is enough heartache for the day. No need to add more.

“Hey [Name],” he begins. “If I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?”

#manager!reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #formula one #fanfic #angst #mv1 #mv33 x reader #mv33

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 2 months

Text

Lovers

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader (y/n)

Warnings: smut!!, cheating

the background of the story: a few months ago you decided to visit your friend Sophie who lives in Monaco. Sophie has been in a relationship with Carlos for a while, and his teammate Charles is in a relationship with a girl (Ava) who isn't with him for the right reasons and doesn't really care about him. due to a combination of circumstances, you stayed in Monaco to live in Sophie's apartment and started running social networks for Ferrari, filming behind the scenes and similar things. From the very beginning, you and Charles have a love-hate relationship. He keeps sending you mixed signals and you never know where you're standing with him. A few weeks before you locked yourself out of the apartment, you shared a kiss that you couldn't stop thinking about…and neither could he.

Y/n's POV

After about half an hour of waiting in front of the locked door, the elevator opens and the eagerly awaited Charles steps out. Of course he had to be the one to come and 'save' me because who else would it be? Our relationship has not changed much in these months. Somehow I also accepted that that kiss happened once and that was it. After all he is taken so I forced myself to stop thinking about him entirely.

As he steps out of the elevator, at first he doesn't say anything but just smirks at me.

"Please, just don't say anything." I say as he comes in front of me pulling out the keys from the pocket of his jeans. He was looking as handsome as always wearing a simple white oversized t-shirt and light washed baggy jeans. No one could ever pull off rings, bracelets and sunglasses the way he does with his perfectly messy curls.

"Y/n." He says putting the key into the lock. "Wasn't going to." As the door finally opens I see smoke coming from the kitchen. My lasagna..

"No, no, no, no!" Horrified and worried, I start repeating, running towards the kitchen, begging God that I didn't set someone else's kitchen on fire and that only the lasagna was harmed.

"What is happening?" Charles runs after me.

"Oh thank God.." I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that nothing is burning in the kitchen except for my lasagna, which turned completely black.

"What exactly are you thanking God for?" He asked mockingly, watching me take the tray of unrecognizable lasagna out of the oven.

"I'm thanking Him for not accidentally setting this whole apartment on fire."

"You're a real danger Y/N." He laughs leaning over the counter. "Like in every possible way." And I join him. I feel like I'm in love with these so beautiful and yet so rare moments of laughter with Charles.

"Thank you for coming here with the keys. I really don't know how else I'd manage to enter the apartment since Sophie and Carlos are in Madrid."

"That lasagna would be a nice thank you for having to come here, but since you're such a great cook.." He mocks again, but I don't mind it.

"Oh stop it!" I wave my hand and open the fridge to see what's left in there. "Well, I don't have anything else left to offer you except beer?"

"I'll take it."

One beer for me, one for him, one for him, one for me, and then again one for him, one for me and so the hours went by without even realizing that it was already dark outside. We were sitting on the floor on the carpet in front of the couch. The TV was on, but we got into talking so much that no one paid attention to it.

"I still can't believe Carlos and Sophie are getting married." Charles says taking another sip from the bottle.

"I personally think it's a bit too fast 'cause they've been together for only like a year, but if they feel like that's it, then I'm all for it. He's head over heels for her."

"Yeah, I guess when you know you know."

"Besides, it's perfect timing since she's pregnant with him so-"

"What?!" At that moment I realize that my tongue works faster than my mind and I pour out Sophie's secret to Charles.

"Oh no no! Forget it please!" I don't know what was I trying to achieve with this? Maybe erase his memory?

"Sophie's pregnant? Carlos is going to be a dad?!" He asks unable to wrap his mind around the fact.

"Yes, yes they're having a baby, but please be quiet about it because literally no one knows but me. Carlos is just about to find out."

"Oh my God..I can't believe it." I notice that his face drops a bit. He doesn't seem all that excited about the rather exciting news. After all Carlos is his best friend. Or at least one of them.

"What?" I ask. "Aren't you excited for him?"

"I am, of course. But it just got me thinking how so much good things is happening to him - he's getting podiums, every weekend he gets better and better, he's getting married, now excepting a child and then I'm over here feeling like I'm fucking stuck in a place..I don't know." This is the first time that after 3 and a half months of knowing Charles he is showing his vulnerable side. He is finally opening up to me and we're finally having a meaningful conversation.

"Why are you feeling stuck in a place?"

"I don't know how to explain it. Nothing's pushing me forward, I feel empty. I feel like I'm waiting on something, but it's not coming." I'm trying to read between the lines what he is trying to tell with this, but unsuccessfully. "I'm fucking struggling."

"Charles.." I listen to him with a heavy heart and wish to hug him and wipe the sadness away. "I'm sorry that you feel this way. What about Ava? Shouldn't she be your motivation?"

"She should be my motivation." He says with a sneer. "Except that's not the case. I once wanted her to be the one to push me forward, but now I'm not even sure if I want it to be her. She's never fucking there and I got tired." I remember when Lando said that he's never talking about his relationship with them and yet here he is talking about it to me, almost a stranger to him, even though it's obviously painful for him to share his feelings.

"If the relationship no longer makes you happy and fulfilled, then why not put an end to it?" I honestly ask him dying to know his answer.

"It's not as simple as it seems. She's Ava Wolff." He says taking a look at my eyes. "And I would like to change the subject now."

"Okay." I decide not to push it. The time will come when he will say that too. "But, just so you know I like you tonight." I say trying to light up the mood and succeed when he chuckles.

"Really? Well I guess better late than never. But, just so you know I've liked you since the Monaco GP." He says and starts playing with the red bracelet I gave him that day for good luck remembering how devastated he was that day because he didn't perform well and his girlfriend wasn't even there at his home race.

I start to stir in place from his words trying to hide the fact that he made me blush. He notices it anyway and pulls himself closer to me.

"Why are you so nervous?" He asks calmly looking straight at me as I tried to look anywhere but his mesmerizing green eyes.

"I'm not." I say quite softly and uncertainly. He scoots even closer to me, so close that I can feel the warmth of his breath on the skin of m neck. He is facing me while I am facing the TV. My heart is beating so harsh I can feel it pounding against my rib cage.

"Y/n.."

"Hm?"

"I've been trying really hard to forget about it," He says, referring to the kiss we shared, as he moves a strand of my hair behind my ear and keeps his palm on my cheek. "I just can't seem to." Before I can even think of anything to say, our eyelids slightly start closing and our lips meet.

At that moment everything becomes less important, neither of us breaks the kiss, we decide to save the "this is wrong" and "we shouldn't, we have to stop" for later.

He kissed me so delicately, his lips softly brushed mine. He was so careful caressing my cheek with his thumb and the kiss was so tender leaving me wanting more.

"Charles.." I breathe out whispering.

"Don't overthink this, please. I'm dying to kiss you over and over again." His words were enough to erase any doubt in me whether I wanted this or not. They got me hooked eagerly wanting more of whatever this was. Once the kiss turned from gentle to passionate, then firmer and more determined, I knew I desperately needed him in every way that there is.

"I want you." I was trying to refrain from moaning since he hasn't even touched me properly yet and I was already a mess.

"You have me so easily. Come here." He pulls me into his lap so I straddle him without breaking the kiss. I worked my mouth against his while his hands were roaming my body under my oversized t-shirt. Once he reached the bra clasp he stopped for a second to take a look at my eyes asking for permission to remove it.

"Take it off." I whisper and seconds later the bra was thrown to the side. With one hand he cupped my breast and with the other he pulled me down making me grind on his stiffened crotch. He threw his head back groaning as I pressed myself against him.

"Fuck, take these off." He says tugging at the hem of my shorts. I obediently do as he orders, taking my t-shirt off along the way and in a matter of seconds I'm sitting in his lap only in my panties completely revealing myself to him. He takes a second to admire my naked body with hungry eyes and slightly parted lips eyeing me up and down.

"You're so beautiful, fuck." My heart flutters at his sweet comment even though I didn't want him to be sweet-talking to me. I wanted him to tell me how much he wanted me, what he would do to me, and how he wanted to have me.

His hand found its way to my panties rubbing me over them feeling the now already damp lace fabric. "You're soaking, is this for me? Have I made you feel this wet?" He wasn't even trying to hide the smug on his face. I gasp at his words and his touch, but he wanted to hear me. "Answer me."

"It's all for you." He pulls my panties aside and starts rubbing small and slow torturous circles on my clit.

"This isn't the first time that you're wet for me now is it?" He murmurs against my lips and I gulp panting. "I know it isn't. I know you've been thinking about me." He glides his fingers over my wet folds up and down before he slips his middle finger inside me. I wince at the the coldness of his finger, but soon start moving my hips against his hand.

"Look at you.. So hot, so eager for me. I've been getting hard thinking about you and your innocent lips wrapped around me even though they're anything but innocent." He slips another finger inside me and I almost finish right away at the profanities that he's telling against my skin. I start to unbutton his pants while he takes of his shirt. He lifts himself up on the couch and I stay down on my knees between his legs. I pull his boxers down his legs revealing the long shaft that sprung off his hitting his lower stomach. I decided to tease him a little and start working my tongue everywhere but the tip where he needed me the most. Once again he throws his head back in pleasure desperate for my touch around him and I enjoy every second of listening him moaning my name. I lick his balls and gently dig my nails into the skin of his thighs. He tries to grab himself, but I stop his hand and put it back on the side.

"Wrap your lips around me, you're driving me insane." I smirk as I see him on almost begging for me. It doesn't take long until I do ad he pleases taking his shaft and giving it a few strokes before I start bobbing my head up and down paying special attention to his aching red tip.

"You're taking it so well for me, so fucking beautiful." His words are prompting while he's moving hair out of my face and collecting it into a ponytail so he can lead my head. I continue doing what I was fastening my pace until he stops me taking my chin between his fingers.

"I don't wanna cum like this and if you continue I sure fucking will. I need to feel you around me. Do you want me to fuck you, hm?"

"Yes, Charles fuck I do." I pant as the aching feeling between my legs rises. He pulls me up by my elbows and I straddle him again as he pulls me again for another long kiss his tongue fiercely wrestling mine. He takes his shaft into his hand prepping it a bit before positioning it on my center. I don't wait for him to pull me down on him, I do it myself rolling my hips against him at first slowly so I can adjust to his length and enjoy every second of the feeling of him inside of me.

"Yes baby ride me, you're so good for me. You do it so good." Butterflies errupt in my stomach at him calling me baby. His thumb brushes over my lower lip and I hold onto his hand. His other hand slides down to rub circles on my clit again and I feel my legs starting to shake.

"Oh Charles, Charles.." I cry out his name clenching around him.

"Eyes on me." He lifts up my chin making me look him in the eyes while I come undone around him and he starts working his hips upwards wanting to prolong my climax. I try to squirm away as the excessive feeling of pleasure overwhelms me and sensitivity takes over. Charles stops me by tightly wrapping his strong arms around me hugging me and hiding his face in the crook of my neck leaving trail of small gentle kisses.

"That's it. You're doing so well for me. Can you keep going?" I nod my head yes and he's quick to turn me over and lay me down onto the couch. He pulls himself out of me and presses himself against my stomach his lips never leaving my neck. I tug on his hair with one hand and with the other slide my nails down his back.

"Kiss me." I plead and he does so. He teases me with his tip going over my now too sensitive and wet folds.

"Will you be able to cum for me one more time?"

"I don't know.." I whisper with a trembling voice. "But I don't wanna stop." That's all it takes for him to push himself deep inside me tiredlessly working his hips in and out of me.

"You're so fucking tight." He attaches his lips to my hard nipples flicking his tongue arounf them and nibbling on them making me whine out his name.

"Charles..oh yes."

"So fucking hot hearing you moan my name." He says. "Fuck, what you do to me..Touch yourself for me."

I slide my hand between us down to my clit making quick circular movements and the sight of me touching myself drives him completely crazy it has him rolling his eyes and panting.

"Fuck, baby I'm close, I'm gonna cum." He starts moving his hips faster hitting my walls making me clench myself around him and screaming out his name as I finish one more time. Seconds later he pulls out stroking himself at fast pace and cumming all over my stomach.

Barely catching his breath he gives me a peck on the lips before falling onto me and I close my eyes playing with his locks.

Leaving Charles on the couch, I get up and head towards the bathroom. I slide down my now completely soaked panties and step inside the shower. As the lukewarm water hits my skin, I let out a deep breath and close my eyes letting myself go through all the emotions that have accumulated in me in the last few hours.

Guilt washes over me because I don't feel guilty and because I know I'd do this all over again with him. I have never before experienced something so passionate, sensual, exciting and satisfying, something that left me wanting more of him. I find myself smiling thinking about him and what we just did, but even though i don't want to let myself expect anything, I forgive myself this time because i'm still under the impression of him tightly gripping my body, kissing me all over my neck and calling me 'baby'.

I hear the sound of the shower door opening and soon Charles' hands are resting on my waist and his lips are pressing against my shoulder. I smile tilting my head to the side.

"You're washing me off yourself already?"

"I was hoping you'd come." I turn to face him wrapping my arms around his neck. He leans in to kiss me only this time slowly and gently. "Can I ask you something?" I ask and he nods. "Are you drunk?" He chuckles at my somewhat funny question. It was clear to me that he couldn't get drunk from 3 cans of beer, I just wanted to check how aware he was of our actions. I wanted to get out of him how he felt about this, I wanted him to tell me something, even though at the same time I was afraid of what I would hear. I didn't want anything to ruin these moments, even though I was very curious and impatient.

"Drunk off of you only." I blush leaning my head into the crook of his neck, but he sensed what I was getting at. "Let's not think about anything and enjoy the moment, okay?" He presses a kiss to my forehead and I feel relieved although on the verge of overthinking this.

"Are you tired?" He asks quietly against the skin of my neck.

"A little bit." I gasp letting my eyes close. "Why?" Just as I asked the question, I felt him slowly pressing himself against me.

"Because I can't get enough of you." His tonuge slides over my bottom lip asking for permission and I let him in without any hesitation. "I want to hear you moan my name again." He says into my ear abruptly turning me around and pressing me against the shower wall. He pushes himself inside of me and starts thrusting in and out again further and further.

"Charles.." The slapping of our wet skin echoed throughout the bathroom.

"How are you so tight, fuck.." His pace picked up and I could feel both of us were close. "I'm close baby, I'm not gonna last long."

My back was arched and I held onto the glass with my palms. Soon my legs started shaking and his hips stuttering against me as we both finished at the same time. The moans filled the small space inside the shower as we were coming down from our highs. I was so weak, the strength in my legs long gone I would've fallen down if he hadn't held me.

"Are you okay? Talk to me." He asks gently caressing my cheek.

"I am." I smile assuring him with a kiss. "Let's take a shower and go to bed okay?"

"Okay."

After we showered and dried off with towels, we went to my room and got into bed. Neither of us said anything, he just pulled me close and held me tight around the waist as if I was going to run away any second. There wasn't even any need to say anything. Being in his arms, feeling his breathing on my skin felt so safe, so intimate that I wished this would never end.

#charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz fluff #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris

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chaepink · 11 months

Note

Hi i really loved ur content about submissive Kenma. Can u write a fic about kenma again🥺🥺 like the reader was so jealous because some ramdom girl is flirting with kenma. Thats why she ended up fucking him all night u knaurr

jealousy, jealousy | sub!kenma kozume

wc: 1k+ words | masterlist

dom!reader, pegging, possessiveness/jealously, begging, jealous sex, aftercare is mentioned though its not written, established relationship, slight crying

note : oh my god thank you! 😳

and im sorry but i forgot to write how the reader kept fucking him all night :,)

"Oh hello~ you're rather cute, aren't you?" You ignore the voice, thinking it was just a girl hitting on a random person. That's until you hear the high pitched voice again asking the person for their number, except it was closer this time and a familiar voice answers afterwards.

"N-No thanks... I'm not i-interested.."

You stray your attention from the item in your hand to the familiar voice and furrow your eyebrows when you see the scene.

Kenma, who's your boyfriend to make it clear, being flirted on by this clueless girl who, though he denied her advances once already, thinks she still has a shot and keeps on trying to talk to him. She's getting rather close to him too, making him have to take small steps backward in order to keep the distance between them comfortable, a slight blush on his cheeks.

You feel anger bubble up inside your body as you furrow your eyebrows, glaring at the girl. You know the emotion you're currently feeling loud and clear: jealously.

Knowing how Kenma hates being social and would rather stay inside and play video games over anything else, your boyfriend is probably hating all the attention that he is currently getting from her. Hell, judging by the facial expression he has on it seems that he would rather be anywhere else than at that very spot.

Having dated him for a while now, you know the poor boy won't find it in him to be able to find the words to shut her down directly. That's where you come in.

Taking a few deep breaths, you calm yourself down before you mindlessly do something you would regret. Walking towards the two, Kenma sees you and his eyes immediately light up, begging you to help him out of the situation.

Grabbing his hand more harsher than you meant, you immediately begin walking towards the cashier section while completely ignoring the girl right there.

"C'mon, babe. I'm done getting everything."

Kenma blushes at the venom in your tone. He could feel the jealousy radiating off you and honestly? It's rather hot.

But he can't help but be nervous about what's going to happen to him.

---

"P-Please! i'm s-sorry!" He lets out another sob as you hit all the right spots in him with your strap. Due to the sheer size of it, it fills him up almost too perfectly, making him whine and whimper underneath you as you continue to pound his insides.

Tears brim his eyes as you brutally fuck him stupid. All he can do is lay there as pleasure courses through his body in waves making him unable to do anything without being shocked with pleasure seconds later. He's a pillow princess, really, but oh do you love it.

Mere minutes if not seconds after you entered the shared apartment between you two do you already have him trapped on the bed underneath you, one of your biggest straps entering and exiting him easily and quickly due to prep. His top half is still covered by a hoodie as you were too focused on revealing his bottom half.

"Oh don't worry, baby." You clench your teeth. Your thighs are absolutely burning but you don't dare stopping for even a second. You remember how touchy the girl was being with Kenma and you speed up your thrusts even more, jealously fueling your adrenaline. "I know you're sorry. Just gotta make sure that the next time that girl sees you-," you start to say. "Well the next time anyone has their eye on you, they'll see the hickeys on your neck and decide to leave what what's mine alone."

A shiver runs down Kenma's spine as your possessiveness makes blood run far down his body. His hands make its way into your back, latching on and digging his nails into your skin, making you hiss from the slight pain it causes. The grip you have on his hips is hard enough to leave a mark but it allows you to easily fuck in and out of him and be able to control the pace.

"You're mine, yeah? No one else's. Mine."

He whimpers as a particular thrust of your strap has him arching his back and letting out a almost pornographic moan. Fuck, he looks absolutely breathtaking right now.

"Y-Yes- fuck! I'm y-yours."

You latch your teeth onto his neck and bite down, making Kenma mewl out from the slight pain. Making sure to leave a few more bite marks and love bites, you lick a few to soothe the pain. You don't care if they only stay for a few days, knowing you would leave more in the near future.

"Fuck- i'm close!"

With that information, you switch from quick, hard thrusts to slower, deeper ones that make Kenma's toes curl and eyes roll from the sheer pleasure he's feeling. He lets out another moan.

"Go on, baby. Cum for me, alright?"

And with that, Kenma lets loose. Whines, moans, and whimpers fill the room as your boyfriend stains the bed and his hoodie with cum. You continue slowly fucking him to ease him down from his high and Kenma whines from sensitivity when you pull out, leaving him to clench around nothing.

"Good boy," you say, kissing his cheek. He blushes red from the praise, almost as if you weren't fucking his brains out mere seconds ago. "You did so good for me." You're about to leave to clean him up until he grabs your arm, stopping you. You raise an eyebrow at him.

"Um... w-what about you though?" It takes a moment for you to process his question but once you do, you can't help but smile.

"Aw sweetie," you coo, making him blush even harder at the new pet name. "Don't worry about me, I'm just glad you enjoyed it."

As you go and get a wet towel to clean him up, he reaches to his neck and gently touches the hickeys and bite marks you've left there. Though it hurts as he slowly presses down on a bruise and he has to stop himself from letting out a whimper, he can't help but smile, a dark blush adorning his cheeks.

He's yours.

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

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lovingmattysposts · 3 months

Text

You don't know me 17

P1 P2 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16 P17 P18 P19 P20 P21 P22 P23 P24 P25 P26 P27 P28 P29 P30 P31 P32

pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo

summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.

warnings: MENTIONS OF BEING ROOFIED! panic attacks, mentions of therorectically being taken advantaged of (Not in detail it doesn't actually happen!!!), mentions of a funeral and losing a loved one, mentions of death.

Something was wrong, really wrong. I felt like I had just drank an entire bottle of vodka but not a drop ever touch my lips. My vision was going in and out, but I was approaching Chris’s house.

Focus.

Just focus.

I closed my eyes to regain my sense of vision before shaking my head and taking a breath. I walked up to the gate before pushing it open. Friday night? Chris had to be outside by the fire.

I stumbled into the backyard before glancing around. The fire wasn’t lit and there was no sign of Chris. “Fuck” I felt my eyes water. I’d walked all the way here and there was no way I could walk all the way back.

I took a breath falling into one of the chairs by the unlit fire. I put my elbows on my knees and pressed my face against my hands.

Why do I feel like this?

Why can’t I focus?

Why do I feel plastered?

Something’s was wrong.

Where’s Chris?

I felt the tears burn at my eyes as I lifted my head. I leaned back looking towards the woods behind his house and I froze.

His place.

I stood up before walking towards the woods. He had to be there, where no one would find him. I just hope he’s okay.

I pushed into the woods, dodging branches and leaves and I walked. Just trying to push them out of the way, but I felt one scrape my arm, drawing blood.

“Fuck” I cursed as I looked down at my arm, moving my finger over the cut. I looked up to the clearing. Chris’s long shaggy hair hung low as he looked off to the stream.

I swallowed as I stepped forward. I looked down at him, slightly relieved that he was here. But also a burning in my chest thinking, Why didn’t he come?

“Chris?” My weak voice spoke. He didn’t speak as he looked down. I just stared at him before loosing my footing slightly but regaining my balance.

That caught his attention.

He glanced up at me.

I blinked down at him. “Why didn’t you come?” I whispered looking down at him. He just looked at me. “You’re drunk” He stated looking back down at his feet. I blinked at him.

I wasn’t drunk, I hadn’t had a sip of an alcohol the entire night. I sat down next to him. “I told you I don’t drink” I mumbled as I looked off the the stream, blinking, it slightly going blurring.

He stayed silent next to me as I waved in and out of consciousness, blinking over and over just trying to focus. He mumbled something next to me.

“Y/n?” His voice rang. My head turned and I raised my eyebrows. “You aren’t even listening” He mumbled shaking his head. I swallowed feeling tears weld at my eyes.

“Chris, I’m-I’m trying” I said shaking my head looking at him. He didn’t know how hard I was trying. It took every last drop of energy to get here. Focusing on what he was saying when I felt like I was going to pass out was making me panic.

And I didn’t know why.

I placed my hand to my chest.

“Chris” I whispered. He glanced over to me. I swallowed.

“Something’s wrong” My voice broke

Chris pov

“Something’s wrong” Her small voice cracked. I stayed looking at her as her vision was trained in front of her, her hand pressed to her chest. I just stared at her.

She closed her eyes whining.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? Did you take something?” I asked quickly seeing she wasn’t kidding. Something was definitely wrong. She shook her head as she squeezed her eyes shut.

“—Can’t see” she choked her eyes fluttering.

My fight or flight mode struck agaisnt me.

“She’s dead”

I stared at her dad in the face. Not moving, not blinking, not thinking. My mom’s arms came around me. I just stared at Rose’s dad’s teary eyes.

“Overdose” He choked. I didn’t feel it, but I felt wetness against my cheek indicating I was crying, but I couldn’t feel anything. I felt like I couldn’t even feel the oxygen trying to come through in my lungs.

My eyes glanced over to the hospital doors. The hospital that layed the dead body of my girlfriend. And there was nothing I could do.

I’d never felt so broken or so helpless in my life.

“You-You didn’t drink anything? Take any pills? Anything?” I said grabbing her shoulders. She whined as her body fell limp against mine.

“Y/n, answer me” I said loudly as I shook her shoulders as her head moved back and forth. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“Sprite” She mumbled her eyes closing. I shook my head looking at her. “Y/n, k-keep your eyes open for me. Please.” I said my eyes filling with tears.

She mumbled incoherently to me, her arms falling limp. “Sprite that’s it? That’s all you had?” I questioned, holding her up. She whined as she laid there, helpless.

That’s when it hit me.

She was roofied.

My veins lit on fire.

My jaw hardened.

“Y/n, who gave you the sprite?” I said down at her. She looked as if she was asleep. She hummed. I took in a breath before standing up and then bending down and picking her up in my arms.

She whined and pressed her face into my chest. I held her close to me as we walked out from the woods.

I could feel her breaths against me. It made me feel better knowing she was just out of it, but alive. I hugged her closer to me as the thoughts ran through my head.

“Didn’t come” She mumbled. I looked down at her. “What?” I whispered. “The one person I wanted” She whispered. I swallowed as guilt ran down my veins.

I hated my mind. It was one of things I hated most about myself, along with the long list of other things. I hated the way I acted, I hated the things that I said, the way I acted. The way I let my mind consume me. All of it.

I just didn't think I could have handled knowing that she loved me while seeing her with someone else. It would have killed me. It would have made me do things I regret.

Last night after the painful walk home knowing that it was starting again. The horrible gut wrenching game of love.

Two people falling in love, it's suppose to be beautiful. It's suppose to be the happiest time in your life, but it never was for me. Love had never bought me anything but pain.

My heart was too big, my heart would get to into it. I would put my soul into the person I love, whether they knew it or not. In one case, Rose knew it. She knew it all too well. In this case, she doesn't. Y/n doesn't know. The last thing I possibly wanted to do was tell her.

I hated the situation I was in. I absolutely hated it. Sleeping alone every single night staring up at ceiling, wondering when she was going to break up with him. Knowing there was someone else, was something my mind wasn't prepared for.

I thought I was. Looking into her eyes as she peered up at me, kissing me like I was the only one. Was enough for me to rule out the sleepless nights and heart wrenching questions, just to have her.

The worst part about it was if I could go back, I would agree to it over and over and over.

That's what I hated most about myself.

I pushed my backdoor open, her in my arms as we walked through the living room. I thanked the lord that my grandpa wasn't sleeping on the chair in the living room tonight, because I had no idea how I was suppose to explain this one.

I sighed as I walked down the hallway and into my room, pushing the door open. She whined in my arms and twitched around. I looked down at her scrunched face. She lunged forwards slightly. Shit.

I pushed my bathroom door open, placing her onto her feet, but her knees bent and she fell against the ground. "Shit Y/n" I said I grabbed her arm before her head hit the ground.

She started to gag again before lunching forwards starting to throw up

She clenched forwards grabbing the toilet before throwing up lifelessly against it, slightly missing it and puking on herself. I swallowed as I pulled her hair back.

I was deathly afraid of throw up.

I turned my head as she puked, breathing in. She groaned leaning back before falling against me, as if she barley had control over her limps. I froze as she laid on me, I closed my eyes.

She started to cry which made me open my eyes.

"I hate-" She mumbled. I blinked down at her. "You hate what?" I whispered. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "My life" She cried. My heart broke as I looked at her. Her makeup, once perfectly done, now smeared across her face. On her birthday.

I felt a lump in my throat.

Focus.

"Y/n, I have to get you out of these clothes" I whispered pushing her hair behind her face. She let out a breath, unable to move. I grabbed the bottom of her shirt before lifting it off her head, careful not to get any of the puke on me or on her.

I threw the shirt in the trashcan in my bathroom as she started to shake from the cold air around us. I hooked my arms under legs as I stood up and carried her out of the bathroom. She didn't react, didn't move as I carried her.

I laid her across my bed, and her head fell back and her arms laid lifeless.

I looked down at my feet.

Imagines of Rose's funeral shot through my head. I took in a breath as I sat down next to her. I shook my head as I placed my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath as tears filled my eyes.

She looked like Rose. As lifeless as she was.

I shook my head trying to focus, trying to wipe the horrible thoughts from my brain but I couldn't breathe. My breathing was in and out and I was way too aware of my heartbeat.

Y/n's okay.

She's breathing.

She's alive.

She's not going to die, Chris.

But I couldn't even look at her.

The worst realization of the night was this moment. Because I knew that losing Y/n would feel the same as it felt to lose Rose. That scared me more than realizing that I was in love with her.

I wiped my face.

You're stronger than this Chris. You're stronger than your thoughts. You need to calm down, breathe. I stood up walking over to my desk before pulling out a pill bottle and pulling it open.

I hadn't needed this in a while. The panic attacks don't come as often anymore. Not since the first year moved here. I pulled out a pill and swallowed it, leaning against the desk just trying to calm down.

I hated taking these, they made me tired. They numbed me, but I guess that was a better feeling than feeling like my heart was going to beat out of my chest.

I took in a breath holding it in for a few seconds, like my therapist taught me all those years ago. The one my parent's sent me to before they gave up and sent me to live with my grandpa. I let it out.

This can't be happening right now, you need to be helping Y/n.

Like you couldn't do with Rose.

I looked up at the ceiling. No, no, no. Don't think like that. You're stronger than these thoughts. Control them.

"Chris"

I snapped my head towards the bed. Y/n was turning over, her eyes closed. I walked over to the bed. "Yeah?" My voice broke. She swallowed. "Cold" She cried. I blinked at her before nodding.

Chris fucking focus.

"Okay" I swallowed leaning over her. "I'm gonna get you changed okay?" I said looking down at her face. She let out a breath and nodded. I nodded back as I leaned down to her feet, pulling off her shoes.

What would have happened if she didn’t come here?

I clenched my jaw as the thoughts ran through my head of the possibilities as she laid unmoving beneath me.

The thought of someone taking advantage over her made the panic attack fade away and anger run cold through my veins.

I looked up at her. "I'm gonna take your jeans off and get you some sweatpants and a sweatshirt is that okay?" I asked softly. She hummed, her eyes remaining closed. I tried to shake the angry thoughts.

I hated that this happened, but it always did. Every single emotion I've ever felt always turned into anger. I reached up unbuttoning her jeans and pulling them down. She barley moved.

"If anyone ever hurt you I would put them six feet in the ground" I said quietly. She didn't respond, as I pulled her jeans off. I stood up walking over to my drawers and pulling out a pair of my sweatpants and a sweatshirt before walking back over to her.

I reach down, wiping the mascara under her eyes, she didn't react. I sighed as I pushed the sweatshirt over her head and pulled it over her body. She hummed and hugged her arms together.

I moved her legs before pulling the sweatpants over her body and pulled the covers down and pulled her legs under them, before pulling the covers up to her chin.

She rubbed her head against the pillow as her mouth fell open and breathed softly. I just watched her as she so easily drifted into her sleep. I moved my hand over her head softly.

"Why did you have to fall in love with me too?" I whispered softly.

Y/n pov

I groaned as I woke up. Wow, I feel awful. My mouth tatses--

I froze when I saw a pair of blue eyes staring down at me. My body stiffened when I realized where I was. I swallowed as I glanced down to my clothes. Not my clothes. I looked up at him.

His knees pulled to his chest, staring down at me with dark bags under his eyes. Saying nothing. I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

"Who gave you the sprite?”

I glanced up at him and furrowed my eyebrows. "How did I-"

"Y/n" He stated cutting me off, his eyes boring into mine. I swallowed. "Who gave you---" He said raising his eyebrows. "The sprite" He finished coldly. I swallowed as memories of last night washed over me.

"There are bruises on your neck" He stated. My hand came over the sore skin around my neck. I felt my hand start to shake. "Chris" I breathed shaking my head. He just stared down at me with an expression I couldn't read.

I swallowed looking at him.

He knew the answer.

He pursed his lips and nodded before sitting up and standing off the bed, grabbing his keys. I jumped forward grabbing his arm. "Chris, don't" I cried, pulling him back. He shook me off as he marched towards his door.

I ripped the covers off of me as the door slammed harshly.

I ran after him and caught him halfway down the hall, pulling him back. He turned and looked at me.

"Chris I don't know that it was him" I lied looking at him. He stared at me. "Don't lie to me" He said harshly. I swallowed shaking my head. "You lie him, you don't lie to me" Chris said shaking his head. I pulled his arm, backing up.

"Can we just talk about this please?" I said my eyes filling with tears. He blinked at me. "Please don't hurt him" I whispered. He looked down at his feet.

"If you hurt him, he's gonna hurt me" I said softly. He closed his eyes and swallowed. "I'm not gonna sit here and not do anything" He said looking up at me. I bit my lip and looked off to the side.

"Why didn't you come?" I asked looking back at him. He stared at me. "That's what you're worried about? Why I didn't go to your party? Not the bruises around you neck and the fact that your boyfriend fucking roofied you?" He yelled at me.

I stepped forward wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into me. He froze under my touch. "I need you to just let this go okay?" I said my eyes filling with tears. "I need you to just be here please. I don't wanna talk about what happened. I don't wanna remember it, i just want it to go away. Chris I need you to let his go" I whispered against him.

His chin fell against my shoulder as I held him, but he didn't hug me back.

"Do you love him?" He whispered against me. I closed my eyes and swallowed.

"I don't think love's suppose to feel like this" I choked back a sob. He sighed as he pulled me against him. I almost fell completely against him. "Why didn't you come?" I whispered against his shoulder.

He sighed as he buried his face into my hair, letting go of a breath.

"I don't wanna talk about it" He mumbled. I swallowed before nodding as we just stood in the empty hallway, two empty people with broken hearts trying their best to fix everything that was broken inside of them.

fucking long ass tag list: @sleepysturnss @frankdelreyy @ahastrns @lavie627 @bernardstrombonixx @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturniolossmut @sturniololol @chrisstopherfilmed @l9vesick @sturvoblur @7tee3n @stylesnsturnz @nick2thick @chrizzypooks @sturniolosmind @m4tthewsgf @lookingatsab @mattscokewhore @lovergirl4387 @fake-sturniolos @theweeknd-fan @leahdsullivan00 @3iysian @angelworldspost @user25701874 @niastqrniolo @sturnnai @christinarowie332 @sturniofilmd @lexisecretaccx @sturnioloslife @rosiegirl80 @miastromboli @st7rn @sophie21153-blog @poopiannrose @jindoritheworld @pinkpearlsrry @justaslvttygirl @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @bernardenjoyer @livluvschris @mattestrella @erodaangel

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo

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adventuringblind · 3 months

Text

Caught in a Lie

Maxiel x Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: The reader gets caught in Max's shenanigans and decides to take the blame. Daniel isn't happy she lied for Max, third time WDC or not.

Warnings: BDSM, dom/sub, sub reader, switch Max, dom Daniel, spanking, unprotected PinV, Overstimulation, mild denial if you squint, Max being a menace

Notes: I have a website now! It would mean a lot if Y'all checked it out. I'm still working on it but it's a fun creative project. It's still in the works, so if you have suggestions, I will gladly take them.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It really wasn't her fault. Max had been the conspirator. She was just the bait. Unknowingly, mind you. The bastard had done this on purpose!

Winning a third title had inflated his ego far too much. They couldn't celebrate properly in Qatar. Alcohol sure, sex had to wait. Not because any of them wanted to, Daniel had made it a point that sex, especially the kind they do, needs to come after races. Thursdays and Fridays can be soft things. Saturdays are an absolute no. Then Sunday comes around, and they are trying to get back to wherever they are staying as fast as possible.

Now, back at home in Monaco, nothing to disturb their peace. They decide to ruin it all by going out. It's one of her least favorite activities. Being in bed with the cat has her name on it. But Max wants to celebrate, and Daniel is social, so she drags herself out of bed.

She should've known something was amiss when Max said he got something for her to wear out. She should've known it was going to end this way when Max whistled at her and laughed, whereas Daniel's eyes had darkened. The familiar look he gets when he wants to absolutely take her apart and build her up piece by euphoric piece.

She'd caught Max's arm on the way out. "What the hell are you playing at?"

"Felt like a show tonight," he shrugs, then winks at her.

The black dress barely covers her ass. It's lacy all over and sheer aside from the important places. She wears stuff like this often since it's something she likes. It doesn't make sense why this would be the thing to drive him insane.

Dancing had been fun. Their other Monaco friends had come out with them to celebrate. Daniel's eyes had burned into her every time she moved. Much to her surprise, he wasn't the only one.

Carlos Sainz is staring at her from the corner. He looks like he's trying desperately not to but failing miserably. He turns away every time she catches him, still exuding confidence.

It's not well known that she's dating Max and Daniel. They've been friends for a long time. Friendship turned into a situationship, which then made them confess. They look like they always do to the outside world. To touchy to simply be platonic but no real announcement that any of the three are taken.

Carlos was staring, Daniel was glaring, Max was smirking, and she was the center of it all. Embarrassment hit her like a train when she realized she'd been played. Max was watching Carlos stare at her and snickering about it.

Feeling insecure, she went to get some air. The joy of feeling nice in a dress Max had picked out now ruined from knowing why he did it. He was playing a game. He could've at least asked first.

Daniel and Max find her outside slumped against the wall. She can still hear Max laughing about something and it's pissing her off.

"Stop laughing at me!" She throws her arms up in defeat and turns her back to them. "I didn't ask to be ogled at by Carlos, Max."

"Then why did you pick that specific dress?" Daniel spins her around and pins her to the wall. A shiver runs up her spine as his breath sticks to her ear. "The exact one Carlos had mentioned wanting to see on a pretty thing like you."

She doesn't know whether to blush or cower. She ends up settling for both at the same time. She debates her options. Either she tells the truth and saves herself, or she takes whatever punishment is coming her way.

Once. She will do this one time for Max since he just won his title.

"I picked it out because I thought it looked nice and you would like it. I swear I didn't know Carlos liked this dress and was going to be here tonight." She's pleading desperately with her voice. Maybe she'll get lucky.

Max has gone oddly silent. She tries not to even look at him, let Daniel figure out she's taking the blame for the Dutch.

Daniel is still staring her down. The silence hanging thick between them until he decides to break it. "Anything to add, Maxy?"

Noticing Daniel's mood, he doesn't answer. A smart move by him. Daniel just hums and grabs her wrist to lead the charge to the car.

None of them speak during the short ride home. She hates every second of it. Daniel is probably mulling over everything he wants to do to her. She feels like a child waiting for their parent to start a lecture.

Daniel waits for them to get their shoes off before turning to face them in the entryway of the apartment. "Where'd you buy the dress from?"

And he'd seen right through it. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember, or you weren't told?"

She winces when his tone goes soft. The one that makes her drop to her knees for him. Well, any tone from Daniel can have that effect on her. This one is just the one that makes her all fuzzy in the head. “I don’t remember,” she whispers.

Daniel sighs heavily. “Alright, if you’re not going to tell me the truth then I guess I’ll have to spank it out of you.” She nearly falls over, but manages to catch herself. “Bedroom, clothes off and on your knees.”

She scrambles to comply. The drop is imminent at this point. She just hopes Max enjoys the show because this will not be happening again. At least, she hopes.

The clothes come off and are folded neatly in a pile. She feels cold, exposed, and bit insecure, and then yet the floaty feeling is threatening to spill over. Her knees digging into the carpet don’t help that.

Max comes into the room silently. Daniel must have said something to him because he kneels next to her. Not a rare occurrence, but is mildly unusual.

“Max.” The stern tone has Max grumbling, but he gets back up off the floor, strips, then kneels again.

Daniel beckons her over to him. Her face is flushed red with embarrassment as she stands between his still covered legs. “You have the choice to tell the truth or not. I’m not mad at you, but I’m sad you felt like you needed to lie about what happened tonight. So, I’m going to keep spanking you until you tell the truth.”

“Yes sir.” It comes out so easily; a second nature now. She lays across his lap, trying to hold back the already threatening tears.

“What are your colors, baby girl?”

“Green is good, yellow is slow down and talk, red is stop.”

“Good, what’s your color?”

“Green.”

She’s probably too far gone already to really say no at this point. She just needs his hands on her in any kind of way.

The first hit shocks her. It’s not the hardest he’s can go by any means, but it still stings. “I’m gonna keep going until I get the truth.” She remains silent and another hit lands to the other side.

The next three have no rhythm and are more towards the tops of her thighs. She whimpers a bit but doesn’t give in. This is for Max. He wanted a show, he won the title, and she’s willing to, unfortunately, provide.

Daniel tugs her hair back and forces her eyes to look at his face. Four more hits and she’s hissing. Each one is harder than the last.

She starts getting hazy around number twenty-five. She's taken more, but the fact that Daniel keeps sweetly telling her she can stop this by telling the truth makes it worse. Like every hit is sending further to the breaking point. Not the good one, mind you, the one where she cries and tells him the whole story.

"Just tell the truth, baby." He lands another five hits in rapid succession. Each one burning more than the last. The tears have started free falling and are making Daniel's leg wet and salty.

"Color baby?"

"Green," She manages to sniffle out. Voice high and cracking. Why is she getting punished again? Oh, right, for Max. It should really be him up here.

The overwhelming urge to do as Daniel says hits somewhere around hit forty. The breaking point has reared its ugly head. She starts bawling her eyes out as the last hit is the hardest she's received thus far. "Yellow!"

Daniel halts any movement. "Did that last one hit too hard?" The softness in his voice only brings more tears.

"I'm sorry!" She drops all her body weight over his legs. "Max got the dress. He said he picked it out for me. I didn't know anything about Carlos. Then, right before he left, I asked him what was going on, and he said he wanted a show. I figured he did just win his title, and I didn't want him to get in trouble, so I lied."

"Oh, baby girl." Daniel helps her up and lays back so she can plaster herself on his chest. "I knew what was going on, but I wanted you to tell the truth. I'm not mad at you, okay?" He runs soothing fingers along her spine. It only makes the tears come harder. "That must've been hard! I'm so proud of you for telling me the truth. I know you wanted to do it for Max, but sometimes Maxy needs to learn his own lesson."

Daniel slides out from underneath her and grabs something from the bedside table. "I'm gonna take care of you now, okay? You did so well. I'm not upset. I just needed to hear the truth." She doesn't hold back the tears as Daniel works on getting her cleaned up. "So good for me," He coos to help her calm down.

She's lost all sense of time. She has no idea of how long she's been over Daniel's or how long he's been cleaning her up for.

She's still splayed out on the bed facing, now facing Max and his solemn expression.

"Here's what we're going to do. Max wanted a show, so that's what he's gonna get since we are celebrating his win." He turns towards Max. The Dutch's knees can't be feeling good at all. Daniel leans down and forces his head upwards. A few seconds at the Australian, then holding on her.

Daniel drags over a chair and rips Max up from the floor. "You are going to sit here and watch. You will not move, you will not touch, you will not make a sounds. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, color?"

Max looks oddly and achingly hard from her position. It makes her wonder if this is actually what he wanted or if he's just slipping further. It takes more to put max down, but Daniel is good at getting him there if the occasion calls for it.

"Green."

Daniel, much to her relief, finally gets his clothes off. He leaves on his boxers for the moment, though the outline of his hard on is obvious. It has been since they got in the car to come home. “Baby girl, do you want my fingers or my tongue tonight?”

“Tongue please.” Pleasurable shivers run down her spine. Sometimes, she’s convinced that Daniel was molded by Greek gods and sent to live among the humans solely because his tongue can work miracles.

Her head hangs off the bed giving her an upside-down view of Max. His skin has flushed even more since the last time she saw him.

She doesn't get much time to think about it. Daniel's tongue presses against her and she loses herself. He knows her body like it's his favorite book to read, movie to watch, and song to hear.

Her fingers slip easily into his black curls. His hands are on her waist, absolutely buried in her. She's going to feel the bruises soon, but it only adds the pleasure of it.

Her free hand flies to cover her mouth out of habit. She makes it half-way before Daniel snatches her wrist and pins it to her side so he can grip both her hip and her hand.

The strings of moans and profanities leaving her are not even close to the way she can hear Max whining behind her. High pitched and desperate.

Daniel is lapping at her like she's producing healing waters and he'll die without it. Nose bumping against her just right. The grip on her body only getting strong as she writhes around in ecstasy.

"Sir please - need to - please-" It comes out strangled in panted breaths and heavy moans.

He doesn't stop. Never does to tell them yes. Daniel taps her hip with his index finger three times. She jumps over the edge without any kind of hesitation. Plunging herself in the familiar feeling of warmth overwhelming amounts of dopamine and serotonin.

Her back arches. Daniel holds her in place as her body contorts in every direction in an attempt to push him away. He is unmoving wall. A force she can't do anything but submit her body to.

Daniel leaves her alone for a mere minute. Only to drag Max over, fingers clutched around the back of his neck. He slams Max onto the bed and manhandles him until he's right where Daniel wants him.

He then moves to flip her. In between them and still sopping. "Think you can keep Max in your mouth?"

Of course she can, she's done it enough times. The consent thing still makes her melt either way. "Yes, sir."

"Good, I think we've tortured Max enough. We are still celebrating his win, after all." There is a hint of mischief behind Daniel's eyes that doesn't go unnoticed.

Daniel, mouth still wet with her, kisses Max in the sloppiest manner she's ever seen.

She stares in awe for all of ten seconds. Her ogling is cut short by Daniel gripping her hair and shoving Max's length down her throat. She gags at the suddenness but recovers quickly and gets to work.

She can't see what Daniel is doing anymore. Their positioning is not the most convenient for watching. She can hear it though, and It's driving her insane. Max's body is quivering and it's an effort to stay where she is and not bite down every time he jerks in a different direction.

It takes less time than normal for him to spill down her throat. Daniel is quick to rip her off and get her over Max. Her ass still stings from earlier, but she could care less as Daniel plays puppet master and guides Max into her.

It's a stretch, Max certainly isn't small, but she's well adjusted.

She loses her head again when Daniel sets her pace. Max is wrecked from the lack of stimulation into a constant stream of it. Daniel rips off his boxers and slams into Max's mouth. "Bet you wish you hadn't done all that snickering, huh?" Max is so far down that his eyes are rolling at Daniels tone. The gentle one that is condescending enough to make anyone whimper.

Daniel keeps talking, she's registering his voice, but has no idea what he's saying anymore. She can't even hear past her own moans. She can't feel anything besides the hands on her body and the overwhelming number of endorphins flooding her mind.

Kissing. Daniel is kissing her through another jump off an even larger cliff.

Flipped over again. This time Daniel is slamming into at an unholy pace. Maybe Daniel is a fallen angel. To good with his body to stay in heaven, so he brought heaven to the humans.

Fingers. Max's fingers are everywhere. He shoves them down her throat and coos as she mans around them. Rough calloused hands made for drowning her in whatever this cacophony of feelings is.

Her favorite song on replay. Over and over and over again. Never getting old.

She comes back to herself at some point. Nobody has clothes on still. Daniel and Max are gently coaxing her muscles to still.

"Hey baby, you passed out on us." Max's voice is still fuzzy. She groans in response. Every inch of her is in some state of pain, pleasure, or both.

"We're gonna try a bath, okay? I want to help the bruises as much as possible." She nods against Daniel's chest, agreeing that would be a brilliant idea.

"Before we do that though, I want so apologize." Max sounds timid and unsure of himself. His hands wring together in anxiety. "I shouldn't have set that up. It made you both uncomfortable and I should've just asked."

Daniel pulls Max back on top of their cuddle pile. "I would've happily made this happen and I will happily do it again."

That same mischievous glint comes back to Daniel despite the exhaustion. They end up laughing deliriously all the through their aftercare routine.

Yeah, she'd happily do this again too.

449 notes · View notes

d1xonss · 2 months

Note

HEY ASHHH!!! hope youre doing amazing HOW ABOUT SARCASTIC READER (tony stark kinda personality😝😝) WITH DARYL AAGHH IT WOULD BE SO COOL like readers always so careless

A Friend

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 4

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 3.5k

AN ~ Hiii! Thank you for this request, I love the idea! I think any kind of sarcastic character paired with Daryl is just perfect. I’m not super confident on how this one came out but I tried to just work with it lol. Hope you enjoy!

You felt the hot sun beating down onto your skin the longer you stood outside, causing you to have to constantly wipe your forehead every few minutes to get rid of the sweat that pooled there. Your arms continued to burn with how many walkers you kept having to stab on the outsides of the fences, their arms trying to come through the openings to claw at you. You had the privilege and the honor of taking on this job today as Rick instructed, while his happy ass stayed inside and did a count of all the weapons and bullets we had. Making checklists if you will while you were stuck out here working your ass off.

Over the course of a few months, you had all been able to live peacefully inside this prison now without the Governor trying to kill everyone twenty four seven. It was relieving, but the problem you all seemed to have to deal with now were all the walkers built up along the fences, attempting to push their way in. No one knew what exactly caused this to be such a problem, maybe the loudness that everyone provided now with how many of you lived on the other sides of the gates. But it had become a pain to deal with to say the least.

You gritted your teeth as you took your weapon to stab another through the skull, moving down to the one below it, and then the one below the next, trying to take them out as fast as possible. Though suddenly you felt a cold pair of hands grasp onto your wrist, your eyes snapping up to see one from the left had a death grip on you. Literally. You yanked your arm back the moment it registered in your head, taking the blade and stabbing it through the eye, seeing its blood go everywhere.

You huffed out a harsh breath, “Fucker.” you muttered to yourself as you shook out your hand, stepping away from them for a moment to take a small break.

You reached down for your water bottle that you had placed off to the side, raising it up to your mouth to take a drink, feeling the coolness glide down your throat effortlessly. It wasn’t nearly enough to cool you down completely, but it was still better than nothing.

Your eyes then drifted around to the many people outside the prison walls, working, eating, talking with one another. It was nice to see the larger community you had now when it was once just a small and tight knit group. Everything was expanding and growing, and you liked the look of it. But then your gaze trailed off to the left, and you really liked the look of that instead.

Daryl was hunched over the side of his bike as he tinkered with it, using a variety of tools and cursing under his breath sometimes when he couldn’t get it just right. Though that wasn’t the only thing you were focusing on. The way his arms flexed beautifully with every tug and pull he seemed to do, it was causing you to feel even hotter than you were before if that were even possible. And the sweat glistening on his skin while he worked, you could’ve sworn you were drooling a little. God he was hot.

Blinking rapidly, you managed to snap yourself out of it as you turned away before he could notice you staring, looking down towards the ground for a moment to compose yourself. Lord only knows there was just something about that man that you weren't able to resist, but the downside about that was, you knew he hardly even noticed or felt the same. The two of you had never really been the closest, in fact you barely even talked at all for the most part. He was more of a loner type, preferring to be on his own than socialize with other people. But hey, you can’t blame a girl for hoping. You then just put all your attention back to killing the remaining walkers outside the fence, wanting to get it done as fast as possible.

But you found you only lasted about another hour before you were completely over it, needing something else to do to pass the time but also make yourself useful. You found yourself wandering back towards the building as a few other members took over for you at the fence, lingering near the garages before your eyes suddenly spotted some fishing rods. You remembered how Glenn brought those back recently with the intention to use them at a lake just a few miles from here, in hopes of catching other types of food besides deer and squirrel.

You only saw the opportunity for a split second before you just decided to take it. After all it was something to do, and something that wouldn’t want to make you die while doing. You practically skipped over to the supplies laid out, grabbing the two fishing poles and the tacklebox filled with some bait, before heading back towards the gate so the person on watch could let you out.

The walk down towards the large lake was a breeze, giving you an actual opportunity to clear your head for a moment as you could finally get away from the constant snarls of the walkers. You could hardly even step outside anymore before the sound was already ringing in your ears. But out here it was peaceful, calm, and approaching the lake even further, seeing a wooden dock coming into view, it felt even more so.

You stepped out onto the wooden platform and instantly got to work, placing some bait on the hook, before casting the line out into the water, pulling at it a little every once and a while to get the fake fish to move around. You sat in silence for the longest time now, it then suddenly hit you all at once how boring this was to do alone with no one else to keep you company. How there wasn’t a single sound to be heard or even anything interesting to look at…nothing. A sigh then passed your lips as you held the rod loosely in one hand while resting your chin in the other, the silence now growing even more so.

That is until you heard a distinct noise. Footsteps approaching you from behind, heavy ones too, marching against the dock pretty loudly as they inched closer to you. Your eyes then peered over your shoulder, trying to not show the shock you felt when you saw it was Daryl coming up to you, crossbow in hand and a typical serious look on his face.

“The hell you doin?” he asked once he was close enough, eyeing the supplies that surrounded your figure, before his gaze returned to you.

Your brows furrowed. Was he serious?

“Oh you know, just…skydiving.” you said with a shrug, your tone coming out monotone and serious as your eyes squinted up towards him because of the bright sun behind his head.

He scoffed to himself at your sarcastic answer, his permanent scowl intensifying as he didn't open his mouth to speak again, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m fishing-”

“I know that girl.” he cut you off, “I mean why the hell did ya come out here alone in the middle of the damn day?” he spat, literally. With the way he spoke so harshly he accidentally spit on your skin as he hovered above you.

You blinked a few times in slight disgust, “It’s a free country sprinkles,” you commented dryly as you wiped your cheeks, “And anyway, I needed to get away from all the constant noise back there. Didn’t think it would be that big of an issue.” you informed with widened eyes.

His expression continued to remain neutral as he nearly glared down towards you in almost disbelief. Was it because you came out here alone? Because you talked back to him? Or because you pointed out the literal shower coming out of his mouth, you weren’t completely sure. But he didn’t seem to want to say another word.

“Okay…” you trailed off awkwardly as you turned back around to face the water, preparing to just ignore his presence now until he decided to go away. He always did with interactions like this. You would know that better than anyone.

Though this whole interaction confused you slightly. He never seemed to care when you, or anyone else for that matter, went off on their own like this, so why the hell was this situation any different? Maybe he was on his man period or something, who knows. But still, besides the spitting, you couldn’t help but shake how hot he still looked in the sunlight. A part of you almost wished that he would stay.

But after a few lingering minutes, you still felt his hovering presence behind you as he continued to say nothing, yet he continued to stand behind you firmly in place. The whole thing was weird and was honestly starting to make you a little uncomfortable, just wanting to know what was going on in his head.

So you glanced back up at him, “Okay, either leave or come sit down.” you said bluntly, “Your stare is making me itchy.”

He stood there for only a moment or two longer, clearly debating in his head, before moving closer towards the edge where you sat and took a seat for himself with a sigh. His actions honestly surprised you, almost expecting him to just walk away with some kind of grumble under his breath. But it was safe to say he threw you off guard a little bit. That, and he managed to not say something assholey.

“Don’t want yer dumbass somehow gettin yerself killed out here.”

Ah. Never mind.

Your eyes narrowed towards him as you looked at the side of his face, “You think I can’t handle myself or something?”

“I know ya can’t.” he replied without missing a beat.

You scoffed to yourself, “Oh you better watch yourself, I’ll make you eat those words. I could take your ass down if I really wanted to.”

Now it was his turn to scoff as he truly didn’t believe a single word coming out of your mouth, “Alright…”

Rolling your eyes at his response, you reached around behind you to pull out the other fishing rod and held it out to him, “Make yourself useful at least.” you said with a pointed glance.

He eyed the thing in your hand for a long moment, making you think for a moment that he wasn’t even going to try. But again, he seemed to surprise you. He snatched it out of your grasp with a small huff, turning to put some bait on the hook just as you did before throwing the line out onto the lake, a bored expression written on his face.

Well this should be fun.

For a while, you two only sat in complete silence, but it wasn’t one that was uncomfortable. In fact you didn’t mind it in the slightest. He was out here keeping an eye on you, helping you bring something back to the community and it was not something you would be complaining about anytime soon. He sat fairly close to you to the point where you could briefly smell the lingering scent of cigarettes on his clothes. You felt that anyone else would be slightly bothered by the smell, but in all honesty, you loved it.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before Daryl began to shift uncomfortably where he sat, his movements bringing your attention to him. He looked a little stiff, almost uncomfortable as his posture was a little rough around the edges.

“You alright there?” you asked with a raised brow.

He groaned a little as he straightened up, “My back’s fuckin killin me…” he huffed as he continued to squirm a little bit now.

Amusement crossed your features once he said that, “Really? Damn, how old are you?”

His face however was far from amused as he looked back at you with some kind of pointed look, narrowing ever so slightly that caused you to back off. “...Tough crowd…” you muttered while turning your attention back to the lake.

You could briefly see out of the corner of your vision, his eyes were still on you as he let out somewhat of a loud and lingering sigh. “Forty three.” he answered almost regrettably.

It was obvious you were surprised, slowly turning back to face him, glancing over his features before you let out a small, “huh.”

His eyes rolled, “Yeah, go ahead and say whatever, I can feel it comin.” he spoke bitterly as he tugged a little on his pole again.

You laughed a little to yourself, “Calm down, I wasn’t going to say anything bad.”

“Alright…sure.” he spoke again, clearly not believing it as he didn’t look at you again.

“I was actually going to say you don’t look it…so…” you trailed off, your words far from a lie at what first popped into your head. It was honestly hard to believe, thinking to yourself that he looked like he was at least in his mid thirties.

But those words took him a little off guard, looking back towards you to see if you were actually telling the truth, before letting his guard down a little as he felt a little warmth in his chest, “Oh…thanks…I guess.”

You nodded sincerely, “You’re welcome…grandpa.”

The sound surprised you. It even surprised him. But Daryl couldn’t help the sudden laugh he let out at your little jab, covering his mouth as he chuckled to himself in surprise that you said that so effortlessly. Even he had to admit, it was a good one.

You even smiled a little to yourself at the unexpected reaction, seeing him calm down a little as he spoke next, “Man…I guess I walked into that one, I’ll give ya that…”

You dipped your head as you did a little bow from where you sat, “Oh thank you, thank you, I’ll be here all week.”

He chuckled quietly again at your sarcastic attitude, wondering to himself for a moment why he hadn’t spent this kind of time with you before. You were both in the same group for a good amount of time, nearly the whole time, and yet neither of you never really sought each other out. The two of you just never had gotten to know one another that well he assumed. But regardless, he supposed it was nice to do it now. Better late than never.

“Why…why haven’t we done this kinda stuff before?” he found himself asking out loud, just a slip of his tongue as he didn’t exactly mean to voice his thoughts like that to you. Though he almost couldn’t help it as he seemed to want to know your point of view.

But nonetheless you responded. “Cause you’re always too busy with bingo.”

He found himself laughing again, hearing you join in after a moment as your quick comebacks seemed to throw him off yet again, “Alright, alright, enough of that shit. Yer gonna make me feel ancient if ya keep it up.”

You laughed again with a shake of your head, “Sorry…but honestly…you kind of intimidate me.”

His brows furrowed a little in confusion, thinking to himself that you of all people wouldn’t have been intimidated in the slightest. Especially because of how long you knew him. “...Really?”

Your gaze ducked a little, “What? You see yourself as some big teddy bear or something, you’re not exactly Mr. Rogers.”

Daryl couldn’t stop the smirk from forming on his face at the comparison, nodding along as if you had a point, “Fair. Just…didn’t think ya saw me like that.”

“Well, if it helps…I don’t anymore. It’s nice to see you laugh…you know, showing some human emotion.”

The small smile he had still hung on his face as he looked at you, nodding again towards you, “It’s nice hearin ya laugh too.” he commented a bit quietly.

You smiled in return, not saying anything else as you were left completely content at where this ended up. You already liked looking at him, that was a given, but you also found yourself liking to see this other side to him as well. The side where he could actually let loose for once instead of putting up this whole tough guy act. And though you didn’t hear him admit it out loud, you knew he liked it too.

Though after only a few minutes of comfortable silence that fell over the two of you, he spoke up again as he squinted his eyes up at the sun, “Damn it’s hot out here.” he commented casually.

You on the other hand practically lit up at the opportunity that was given to you, staying quiet for a moment as you only nodded in agreement to his statement. He thought you couldn’t handle yourself against him? Not being able to catch him off guard? Challenge accepted.

Your eyes trailed down to the water just in front of you, leaning in a bit as you pretend to look at something below the surface, “Hey, do you see that?” you asked as you pointed.

His eyes looked toward you, before leaning down a bit as well to try and make out where you were gesturing to, “Huh? Where?”

“Right there.” you pointed again.

He felt a little stupid as he saw nothing, squinting his eyes more as he leaned a bit closer, “...Where?”

“It’s right…” you trailed off as your other hand moved up to his back, “There!” you said as you gently shoved him into the water, hearing him gasp before he fell face first into the lake with a splash. His reaction alone caused you to quite literally fall over laughing, hugging your sides as you giggled uncontrollably.

He then came back up with a breath, looking at you with a pointed glare as he was now completely soaked, “What the hell’s wrong with ya?” he asked angrily as he shook his head a little for the water that surely got in his ears.

You laughed even harder than before, “You said it was hot.” you pointed out as you laughed again to yourself, “Plus, I just made you eat your words.” you spoke cockily, referring to what he claimed earlier.

He stayed in place for a long moment absolutely dumbfounded, but then again he wasn’t planning on just letting you off the hook like that. He was absolutely drenched and pissed.

You began to notice the serious look he had on his face and you quickly calmed down, “Hey, I’m sorry, it was a joke.” you said as you leaned down a bit lower and reached out to him, “Here.” you offered to help him back up.

The man didn’t even need to think. No hesitation whatsoever.

He quickly took your hand and pulled you into the water right along with him, hearing your small scream before you fell clumsily into the water. He chuckled to himself as he backed up, seeing your head pop back up almost instantly with shock written all over your features. But then again, you and him both knew you deserved it a little.

“You asshole!” you yelled playfully as you sent a splash toward his face.

“Oh, I’m the asshole?” he yelled back as he sent a splash back towards you, “You started this girl.” he chuckled as he kept pushing the water towards you.

That only caused the two of you to linger and splash each other in the water for quite a long time, neither of you even caring about the amount of time passing by. You were having a good time, playing around in the lake felt incredible on such a hot day like today. And neither of you could deny that each other's company, that was pretty nice too. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had laughed this hard, the situation alone causing you to be taken aback for a moment that Daryl was the one to bring out that side of you again. But it was refreshing, along with the cool water the two of you swam in for a few hours.

Though as the hour grew late and your fingers were starting to get pruney, you both collectively decided to get out and back up to the surface, ringing out your clothes all the while as you prepared for the walk back to the prison.

“No luck with the fishin, huh?” Daryl asked as he shook his head a little, the water droplets from his hair landing on you with how close the two of you were.

You sighed a little as you glanced back at the supplies you brought, “Guess not.” you commented, “But…I do think I found myself a new fishing buddy.” you said as you glanced back at him with a smile.

He looked at you for a moment before scoffing dismissively, “We ain’t no fishin buddies, that shit’s stupid.” he said with a chuckle as he moved around you to begin to gather up the stuff on the dock.

Your mouth dropped in offense, “Oh come on, it would be fun, grandpa’s love fishing.” you teased him as you watched him gather up all the supplies in his arms.

“Stop.” he said dryly as he brushed past you, beginning to walk back towards the prison.

You sighed dramatically, “Well at least bring out the joke book and humor me, it’s going to be a long walk back.”

“I swear to God, girl…” he grumbled a little at your teasing. But as much as he didn’t want you to see it, there was a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at your words. And maybe a little amusement in his eyes too. Perhaps this whole thing was just the start…maybe he had finally found someone he could laugh and joke with. Someone he could call a friend.

~ Thanks for reading! (also, i am working on a part two for older, it’s just taking me some time. but i promise it’s on the way;))

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astrow1zar6 · 5 months

Text

Astro Observations-07

Libra Venuses tend to stay in relationships that they aren’t happy in if it looks good to the outside world

Gemini moons gossip ALOT. They usually don’t mean harm by its just second nature for them because it’s hard for them to keep things in

Sagittarius suns tend to act like they are better than others (even if they are)

I notice common birthdates for famous ppl are the 15th, 11th, 3rd, 6th, 24th and 23rd

All libra risings have amazing hair, they don’t get enough credit for. It’s an effortlessly perfect look

Gemini/Aqua Venuses are usually androgynous

Taurus risings are what you’d expect aqua risings to look like. I lot of them have multicolored hair or have a more alternative style/aesthetic

Mars in Pisces men never usually make the first move whether it be when asking someone out, talking to them or sex. They find it a lot easier when the other person takes initiative

A lot of cancer moons have bad social anxiety. I’ve seen a lot rarely ever leave their home

I think Gemini suns are way more freaky than Scorpio suns

Gemini placements are either really bad at social cues or amazing conversationalists

Taurus placements tend to hog down their food like a vacuum lmao especially the (sun and mars) they can devour their plate in seconds.

Libra suns and Pisces suns are a really good match and no one ever talks about it

Having a fire grand trine is the luckiest of all the trines. Less likely to be lazy with talents because of the high motivation and optimism the fire element gives

The biggest liar I ever mets big three was a Leo rising, Libra sun and a Pisces moon

Scorpio Venus men love mysterious complex women. Attracted to a woman with a very dark personality/aesthetic.

Aries moons can be very disrespectful and burn a lot of bridges because they didn’t get what they wanted

Pisces women with Aries placements enjoy going for men that are already taken🫠

Pisces moon men are the biggest SIMPS

Lilith in Pisces probably struggled with addiction at some point I’m their lives (drugs/alcohol)

Capricorn placements are hyper aware of their surroundings which is why they always look so put together. Their image means a lot to them because many have had trauma with being embarrassed for the way they presented themselves causing them to be super aware of how they come off which is why they can come off grumpy or uptight, this is especially true with the (rising and moon)

Mutable sun men usually have commitment issues

Scorpio mars women do not take it well when they are broken up with😭 the types to get very vengeful and petty to get your attention back on them. I had one go so far to say I’ll kill myself if you leave (my ex) can be very emotionally manipulative when they feel they are losing someone. Big control issues.

#astro observations #astrology #astroblr #astrologist

528 notes · View notes

leclsrc · 1 year

Text

see it through ✴︎ cl16

genre: friends to lovers, fake dating au, fluff!, humor, slight angst, slow burn-ish, yearning

word count: 9k

“It’s a proposition for the fans.” She smiles. “It’s a fake relationship.” Or: you go from social media manager to girlfriend in under a day. Keeping up appearances for Charles’ family isn’t easy, until it is – and until they’re not really appearances anymore.

notes... internet translated italian ahaha

auds here... this fic is quite long! i hope you all like it. title from this bee gees song which reappears in the fic later. few music references here so if you like to listen to music, just look for the titles, they’re famous!

You’d gotten the phone call on a Saturday morning.

Barely morning, you realized when you were digging for your phone in the sheets, half-asleep—it’d been five minutes past noon. You’d swiped, pressed the phone to your ear, and waited for the other end to speak, eyes shut.

“Good morning,” a vague voice had said on the other said, distinctly American. “This is Jenna Griffin, newly appointed PR specialist for Ferrari. Your boss told me you were free for lunch on Monday, so can I pencil you in for a one-thirty meeting?”

You click your tongue. “Um, yeah.”

“Wonderful. Monday, one-thirty. Apologies for the weekend call, it’s for Mr. Leclerc.” The line buzzes dead after, and you flop backwards onto your bed, confused out of your mind.

Your job for Ferrari was simple—create social media content, do the occasional damage control, have a pre-interview discussion with journalists, and generally stay out of everyone’s hair. It’s not a high-maintenance job, but it pays well, and you get to travel; plus, you’re young, and you figure this is just a stepping stone for a more legitimate post. Your point is, you’ve never gotten into trouble before, and are only at meetings to take minutes or get assignments.

Which is why a Monday lunch meeting—on your vacation, nonetheless—seems so out of the ordinary. And arranged by a PR agent from Ferrari? Last you’d heard, cars were objects and didn’t need publicity. The whole affair gives off a vibe of semi-mystery, almost, like you’re in the MI6 and taking lucrative calls in alleyways.

You feel through your bag for your hotel key card, wallet, and phone, and finding them all there, you leave and make your way to the restaurant. You’re not too nervous; you’ve had to have your own sit-down talks with higher-ups and even Charles or Carlos before, but none of the “you’re fired” variety.

The restaurant isn’t far from where you’re staying, so you shove sunnies on and trek there, managing to make it inside unscathed.

Table 17, the text reads, and you’re quickly ushered into a private section of the place. It’s empty, save for a couple and a far-off table seating one guy, whose back is to you. You realize it’s Charles when you squint your eyes harder. The waitress doesn’t give you much of a choice and seats you across him, promising to return with noontime champagne.

You slide your sunglasses onto your hair and look up. “Hi,” you say politely.

“Hey,” Charles says back casually. He wears a Richard Mille and a few other bracelets, a linen blue polo, and jeans.

“New PR thing?”

Charles smiles, shrugging. “Man, I’ve no idea. Wake up on Saturday and I’m due for a meeting. Is this for social media?”

Huh, so he doesn’t know either. “I don’t know. It was a super random call for me, too.”

He shrugs. “Both clueless.”

“Right. So, to be clear, we’re waiting for—”

“I am so sorry I’m late,” a woman says sheepishly, her heels clicking along the tiled floor. She definitely looks the part for a PR officer: pantsuit, heels, a blond bob, ridiculously expensive handbag, eccentric sunglasses. “Scusami, really.” Her Italian apology has an American twang.

“All okay,” says Charles with a small smile. “We were barely waiting, no?”

You nod, offering a tight-lipped smile of your own. “Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

She slides into the seat beside him and waves a waiter over, ordering in quickfire English; clearly, she’s been here before. Absently, you wonder if her previous affairs in this restaurant were also to have clandestine meetings. Your reverie doesn’t last long, though, because immediately Jenna’s starting her agenda. “So, are introductions in order?”

“I, um,” you say, “I’d say so, yes.”

“Alright, spectacular. I’m Jenna Griffin, just moved to Monte Carlo after living and working in SoCal. I’ve been appointed as a PR manager for Charles here, but don’t worry. You’re in good hands. I’ve handled three Kardashians, two NBA players, two One Direction members, and a lot of nepo babies.”

“Wow,” you say, nodding.

“Cool.” Charles says, clearly impressed.

Jenna’s gaze flits between the two of you, both smiling at each other. “Right,” she says. “Let’s get down to business.” She clears her throat and pulls out her phone from her handbag, scrolling for a few moments. While the silence settles, you steal another glance at Charles, and hide a chuckle when you find his eyes already glancing back at you.

“Aren’t we waiting for Carlos?” He asks, taking a sip of water.

His PR agent looks up briefly, then answers. “Actually, it’s just you two today.”

You nod slowly, burrowing even further into the confusion you’d been feeling since Saturday. It wasn’t like you were expecting Carlos, per se, but a meeting with just you and him—now, that’s a bit strange.

“So, I know this is all very confusing. But it’s happening for a reason,” says Jenna. “Charles—and I really only feel qualified to say this because I’ve done my research—has been on a streak of…erm, well, lady-related scandals lately.”

“Oh, God,” Charles groans across you, and you chew your lip. You’ve seen the headlines, but you’re still clueless as to how this concerns you.

“As a PR agent, I think it won’t do good for his public image to be seen as somebody who sleeps around.”

“It was two headlines,” Charles cuts in with a laugh. “And they were both fake. Please don’t misunderstand.”

Jenna clicks her tongue. “Yeah, the public definitely has some thoughts.” She turns to her phone and reads off of it. “‘Charles is a playboy and not a driver’, ‘Leclerc is too busy pulling girls’… times ten thousand. So, yeah, it’s a bit of a smear.”

“Right, okay. Listen, I’m not sure I understand,” you say with a stuffy laugh. “What has all this got to do with me?”

“Everything,” she answers with a smile. You raise a brow. “Well, you see, we PR managers always have a network. We keep tabs on who’s who, and who needs what. As a new manager, I need to implement some of my strategies around here. Go digging, you know? Find something good. And when I found your pretty little face in the background of many of Charles’ paddock photos, I realized you could help create something newsworthy.”

“Are you talking about a PR stunt?” You ask, your frown deepening.

“Well—virtually, essentially, yes.” She opens her mouth to explain but is interrupted by the serving of champagne and appetizers. “Okay. Don’t think this is a haphazard decision. Naturally, we had to find out if this would even be a good idea…”

“Which it’s not,” you say, taking a swig of champagne.

She nods. “The thing is, your bosses and I really did go over several scenarios, and this one seems the most likely to keep your fans engaged. This way, the appearances won’t look so staged.”

“—Jenna,” Charles says, clearly having detected your hesitance, “I don’t think she’s interested.”

“It’s fine,” you say, but you still sound off-put. It’s not fine, not really. “I don’t see how this is going to help Charles, though. I’d think the idea of him being committed to somebody would just further alienate his fangirls.”

Jenna chuckles. “While that is, to some extent, true, the number of fans who would go gaga over the two of you far, far outweighs the opposing population. This is a special case. A girl next door social media manager with a social media presence—and a wildly popular, totally charming Formula One driver? I mean, talk about Harry and Meghan! Everybody loves love. And, might I add, Charles’ male fans might actually like seeing you two together.”

You sigh, a quick huff of frustrated air. “So, what is this then?”

“It’s a proposition for the fans.” She smiles. “It’s a fake relationship.”

You reach for champagne, but find you’ve totally drained your glass. The room falls into muted silence, and you can’t bring yourself to look at Charles. You didn’t expect this on a Monday afternoon. You thought maybe it was a job termination. Or a leaked text message. Somehow, this is the strangest of all possibilities.

“So, good?” She chirps. “I’ll send you the primer.”

You both stare at each other. “We’re not actually going to. Right?”

“Right. We are not dating.”

—

“We’re dating!” You chirp, practicing your appearances in front of Carlos and Lando, who had visited the former.

“You two look like two people dating pretending to be friends,�� Lando observes.

You grumble. Many of your shots had been staged pap photos outside his apartment, or fans happening to catch you two together; no official statement had been released, according to Jenna’s “masterplan.” For the most part, it was a good dynamic of putting up a façade for the public and settling back into a platonic relationship within minutes.

Nothing really goes wrong at first—and then Charles ruins it.

It happens after a Ferrari event in spring. You’re in Monza again, weather humid when you re-shoot the fifth TikTok for the day with Carlos. There are celebrities to and fro, even more journalists and a shitload of fans crowding the perimeter of the area. You’ve successfully pulled off the fake dating stunt, keeping a lowkey profile and doing your job.

There’s a green room for the drivers and close managers to wait and rest, where you stow yourself away to avoid the crowds. You review the reels and stories for the day, and cap it off with a “goodbye, Tifosi!” post with Carlos that’s enough to quell the many notifications.

Granted, many of the said notifications are of the speculative nature. Some are wondering if it’s you posting or if a new hire was underway to make room for the new couple. You ignore them anyway and take a seat on the couch across Carlos, sighing with exhaustion.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” He teases.

“Ha-ha,” you say, unimpressed. You gesture to the TV behind him, showing a live feed of Charles’ last interview of the day with Natalie Pinkham. Once this is over, you’re free for the week: free of social media manager and fake girlfriend responsibilities. The thought alone makes you well up with relief.

You and Carlos both watch intently as Charles answers several event-related questions that, to your horror, simmer into personal ones. Natalie sounds excited when she goes, “Any plans for the week with a special someone?”

Charles has no thought behind his eyes, a muted wave of panic coming over him as he fumbles for a response. “My family’s staying up in Tuscany, in a farmhouse we own, stay in for spring and summer. We are actually visiting them for the week.”

We are actually visiting them for the week. Your look of pure, unadulterated shock doesn’t go unnoticed by Carlos, who’s quick to snap pictures of you on his phone. What the hell is Charles talking about? Tuscany? No, family?

“I take it you didn’t know about this,” Carlos says with a laugh.

“You think?!” You holler, still appalled. Charles has a lot of gall to spin this without your permission, or Jenna’s for that matter. You know she’ll love it, though; it’s really, mainly, you who has a problem with it. Anxious, you get up and watch the broadcast end; not a minute later, Charles enters and offers a can of sparkling water to you.

“Thirsty?” He asks casually.

“Very,” you pipe, taking a gulp.

“You’re welcome,” he says teasingly.

“Oh, thanks! I think I’ve been busy thinking about the fact that I’m meeting your family!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He yells, trying to match your agitated volume. “I didn’t know you were watchi—I was nervous! I didn’t know what to say anymore! And—you kno—well—and Natalie kept asking a ton of questions!”

Your face of disbelief matches his of sheepish apology, facing each other frozen. Across you, Carlos lets out an incredulous laugh, mumbles something about wanting popcorn. You honestly can’t blame him. Had you been an outsider, you would’ve relished in Charles’ slip-up, too. Instead, you’re the one who’s apparently going to Tuscany on Friday to meet the extended Leclerc clan.

“It’s fine. It’s gonna be”—you attempt to find an appropriate adjective—“bearable. At least we don’t need to keep up appearances there.”

You’re met with disagreeable silence. When Charles doesn’t chime in with an agreement, you turn slowly back to him. “No.”

“It’s only for a week—”

“No!”

“A week!”

You’re both standing up, pacing around the other frantically. Pretending to suddenly be bumped up from social media manager to Charles’ girlfriend was a daunting enough proposition. Getting hate mail and death threats was enough incentive to let you want to leave. Timing exits and entrances was difficult. And now, pretending to be together in front of his family? His family.

“Why can’t you just tell them we’re not actually dating?!”

“It’s just—it’s complicated having to explain why.” You remember his assortment of man-whore scandals and realization sinks into you. You sit on the arm of the couch, deflated and contemplative. Despite your own knowledge of the scandals being totally baseless and false, you understand it’s difficult to explain the lengths of tabloids and online rumors to older family members.

You might have to grin and bear it.

“Fine.” You digress. He cheers silently. “One week. Once our quickie breakup is finalized, you’re telling them it ended well. I don’t want to be in anybody’s bad graces.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.”

Tuscany won’t be so bad, you think. What’s the worst that could happen?

—

Charles’ extended family greets you at their farmhouse when you arrive heaving two pieces of luggage. It’s populated by two aunts, three uncles, and two younger cousins, and their hospitality is contagious. They all somehow remind you of Charles, their faces, their laughs, their easy attitudes.

His aunts, Mia and Giulia, are the first to pull you in for a hug and inspect your face. Good eyebrows! Good lips! Healthy attractive child for you both!

You have to pry yourself off of them with giggles and smiles and pretend the kid comment was never uttered for your own sake. They’re kind, ushering you inside and serving dinner immediately, inquiring about the drive and if it was bad, if Charles had spotted any dead sheep or cattle on the way (none.)

His cousins are both little boys, eleven and six, shy and with thick accents. Charles’ smile is huge when he speaks to them in Italian, eyes comical and animated. His three uncles all eat fairly quietly, talking about politics, or racing, only when they feel like it.

They ask many questions, and tell so many stories, over limoncello and rigatoni that leave you stuffed after two platefuls. You didn’t think you’d be satisfied so soon after the drive, but you’re grateful for it. His uncle Giorgio leads the tour of the house, his voice slow and constantly sliding into Italian, but Charles is quick to supply a translation into your ear. Lit by terrace lights, you get a night view of the house, surrounded by the hills, the lemon trees, and a swimming pool in the back. Further back, there are two horses for riding, and bicycles for easier transportation.

A vineyard borders the other side of the hill, owned by a different family. You can’t digest the beauty of this place, even without the sun to provide a better view. You’re back inside, being shown the rest of the wide dining room and kitchen that lead out onto a balcony-terrace area, and then clambering the stairs to be shown your room—a beautiful one on the second floor that overlooks the hills.

“This is so beautiful,” you say honestly. “Thank you so much. And Charles will be staying…?”

“In my childhood bedroom!” He quips excitedly, already halfway out the door to review his living situation.

Giulia and Mia share a look and then the former goes, “Wait, Charles!”

He slows to a halt and turns, awaiting their words. “Ay. Bambino, because you have been in Monaco so long these days, and we have gotten a lot of stuff, your childhood bedroom is now more of a… storage room.”

“A storage room?!” He sounds scandalized.

“Bambino, mi dispiace,” she continues. “But—let’s not be conservative! You two have been dating now for a year, correct? Surely, you’ve slept in one bed.”

Your face grows warm. “Um, actu—”

“Shh,” Mia says kindly. “No need to make excuses. Charles, stay with your girlfriend. And we will wake you both for breakfast. Ciao!”

You barely voice your assent, managing to wedge in a thank you! before the door closes and leaves you and Charles alone.

In a room without a single couch. The only non-bed “resting” space is a single chair, and as much as you want to, you don’t want Charles to break his spine trying to sleep on it. The situation is clear. You need to configure the bed.

“We cannot sleep on the same bed.”

“I’ll take the floor.”

“No! I mean—ugh. I don’t want to risk you pulling a muscle. Also, more importantly, if any of your family walks in and sees you sleeping on the floor, they’re going to think we’re freaks.”

“The bed is big enough for us both,” he says, gesticulating. You narrow your eyes. If you’re going to be avoiding physical contact, it definitely isn’t. It’s like the gods had decided to bless the room with a bed perfect for two people snuggling.

You place your hands on your hips, analyzing the best way to tackle the situation. You won’t lie, you’d thought about the possibility of sharing a room—but a bed was completely different. You’d expected a couch, a loveseat of some kind, both of which are woefully missing. Thinking fast, you take the three decorative, cylindrical pillows and place them vertically on the centre of the bed.

You step back. “Okay. That’s our boundary.”

Each side is a bit small, but it’s the price to pay, you think, taking a long look at your handiwork. Beside you, Charles snorts. “That is not going to work.”

“I’ll bet you it will,” you say matter-of-factly, retreating to the bathroom to get ready for bed. When you emerge, Charles is fast asleep, half his body on your side of the boundary. You have to pour water on his face to shoo him away, and that’s when you’re positive your creation will work.

You place yourself gingerly on your side of the border, remaining perfectly still as you drift off to sleep. You wake up the next day on Charles’ chest, pushing him away before admitting you’d been in that position in the first place.

You slide him five euros over breakfast.

—

Charles is a good driver, skier, and biker—you can attest to this from being by his side, reviewing pictures and videos of him for a living.

But there’s one thing he absolutely sucks at, and it’s teaching. You thought you’d never have to attest to this, but here you are, with scraped knees and a smudge of soil on the hem of your shorts, on your sixth attempt to learn how to ride a bike.

It’d been his idea, like many of the odd things you’d gotten yourself into. “Let me make up for dragging you along,” he’d said, and then proceeded to commit attempted murder every time he sent you away on the bicycle. Five tries did you no good; Charles’ directions contradicted each other and came much too fast, causing you to crash into the grass or skid yourself to a halt, your sneakers coated in a light layer of dust.

“Why are we still trying?” You ask woefully, examining the scratches on your calf. And to think you would’ve gotten to go truffle hunting with his uncle had Charles not swept you away to bike.

“It is an important life skill. Just—don’t look at the ground. Okay. Andiamo!” He sends you off again, watches as you twist and careen into a bush. Again. Your groan of pain matches the ooof he lets out, jogging to help you up. You turn away from the ground and toward his face. His laughing face.

“Ow. What?” You ask, raising a brow. You flex your fingers, waiting for him to pull you upwards.

“You smashed into a bush and a berry’s all over your cheek.” He says, still laughing when he helps you up. You hold the tip of your pinky to your face, press down, and sure enough, when you inspect it again, it’s stained a dark berry color.

“Is this toxic?!” You ask, agitated.

“Che? Toxic? No, no. It’s a juniper berry.” He reaches over and swipes his thumb across your face, sending you into a frozen state. Your hands remain at your sides while he focuses on wiping the rest of the fruit off of your cheek, showing you his stained finger afterwards with a proud smile. “All gone.”

You turn and pick up the bicycle. “One more for good luck,” you say, shaking off the nerves and gut churning feeling deep in your stomach. You situate yourself atop the bike, trying to remember and re-remember all the tips Charles had given you.

“Don’t look down, just breathe, keep your eyes trained straight. If you crash, on the grass always. Better than this path.”

“Got it,” you say breathlessly, determined. You take off, eyes trained on the landscape in front of you, leaving the house behind and gliding quickly downhill. It takes you a beat to realize, however, that you’re not falling. You’re doing it—properly. You turn to voice your pride, but that’s what gets you caught in your thoughts.

Charles is cheering behind you, but once he detects you’re stumbling, he runs the few metres over. Still, he can’t catch you fast enough; you do manage to turn right and land on the grass. In his own rush, Charles trips on the horizontal bike, and lands right beside you, atop your arm.

Eventually you’re both doubled over laughing, your fingers finding purchase on the blunt grass. You both only quiet down when you hear his aunt’s car, old and rickety, grow louder. You look up to find Giulia peeking out of the driver’s window, her face as amused as it is confused.

Beside her, Mia yells. “Buon lavoro, Charles!”

“What’d she say?” You ask, still half-laughing.

“Good job,” he replies, entertained. “She said good job.”

—

Charles takes Giorgio’s Vespa and rides you both to town two days later, even with the offer of a car. He claims the motor ride is the best way to experience Tuscany at its finest. Nothing about the two-seater bike on the pebbly road feels fine, though, and you’re seriously contemplating broken ribs when he makes a sharp turn. It’s only a ten, fifteen-minute ride, but the downhill slope makes it seem faster—and more dangerous.

Your grip on his waist had gone from loose and hesitant to tight and anxious, your voice a mantra of possible death in his ear. He can’t help but laugh, revving harder and chiming in with a biting remark of his own.

“You know who this is named after?” He shouts over the wind whipping both of you.

“Mmm?” You ask.

“Apollonia, from the Godfather.”

“Oh, Christ. The girl who died?”

“Hey, she was beautiful! My uncle loved the movies so much, his Vespa had to be named after her.” You lean onto his back for purchase, still unused to the speed at which he zips through the countryside. Eventually, after a few turns, the terrain turns from rough to smoother, and he parks at the busy-looking town square, populated by locals and tourists alike, but not with the traffic of more popular cities. Alleyways lead to smaller corner stores and cafés; a chapel overlooks the area, and a market populates the centre.

“What would you name your bike, if you had to?” You ask as a follow-up, removing your helmet and shaking your hair out. You pull at your dress to straighten it out.

“Well…” He takes both your helmets and stores them in the bike, leading the way toward the bustle. “My uncles, and my father—they always say we name our most precious things after beautiful women. Apollonia. My other uncle, Leo, he named his sailboat after his mother, Bianca. Even my dad would name few objects after my mother. It’s a way of honoring them, you know?”

You nod, stopping at a produce stall and examining a bunch of tomatoes. “I think that’s sweet.”

“Yes, so I guess… well, I don’t know, really. My mother’s name, maybe?”

“She’s got a beautiful one,” you comment offhandedly.

“Yeah. Or, if we go by appearances, I suppose your name.”

You ignore the flush of nerves that well up in you and turn back to face him, confused and amused. “My name? Why’s that?”

“I mean,” he coughs, crossing his arms and smiling, “people think we are together, so if I get a bike, and they ask for her name, I must say yours, no?”

“Only if you want to,” you chirp back, amused. What had possessed him to suddenly bring you into the discussion? Neither of you are pretending for all these strangers. Here in town, you’re friends again, browsing the market, walking around stalls, eating free samples of pesto and cheese.

“I do want to,” he says. It’s a joke, you’re sure. Half-sure. It’s a joke.

The town square’s noise begins to die when the sun sets. City-dwellers leave to take trips back to main hubs of Italy, and with no nightlife in the area, many in the square are families or couples sitting down for dinner. The ride back, while short, might be dangerous in the dark; you tug on Charles’ sleeve to relay your thoughts.

“Don’t worry,” he says dismissively. “I’ve biked here past midnight.”

“What were you even doing in town at midnight, hmm?” You tease lightly, following him around. There’s not much to do except eat at this point, judging by the way you’d both exhausted the stalls in the afternoon. He rolls his eyes, mumbling excuses.

“You womanizer,” you whisper in an exaggerated scandalous tone. You poke his bicep. “Bedding the locals.”

“I was not, ay!” He defends. You’ve noticed his accent is so much thicker here, where he has to speak Italian all the time, except with you. It sounds nice. “I would come to smoke weed.”

That’s even funnier, you think, throwing your head back to laugh. Thoughts of teenaged Charles, tinged pink and tan from summer, on a momentary break from a junior racing career, biking fast back and forth—for a joint no less—are both funny and endearing. “That is so cute, Charles. Drug virgin.”

“Don’t speak of those when we’re in front of the house of the Lord,” he says sarcastically, gesturing to where your cyclical walking had landed you: back in front of the town’s chapel. There’s a pot of holy water by the front doors and a rack of candles for lighting and offering. Besides that, there’s a coin drop box being manned by a priest.

In silent agreement, you walk in sync to the candles, lighting one each and whispering brief intentions. You’re not religious, you’ve never been; a church seemed foreign to you, always. But you figure there’s no harm in a candle and an offer to the big guy, if he’s there.

There’s a mural painted by the doors, which you observe silently while Charles goes to drop donations into the box. You catch bits of their conversation. Good evening. Are you a tourist. No, we live up the hill, visiting for spring, yes.

The rest you don’t catch, turning to Charles and watching him talk, animated as he is solemn. The priest smiles at you politely, turns to Charles, goes, “Siete qui insieme?” You rack your brain for the Italian you’d picked up recently but can’t match it to anything.

Charles nods. “Qui per cenare, ed esplorare.” Esplorare, explore? You fail again, but continue listening anyway, occupying your eyes with the mural.

“È la tua ragazza?” The priest asks with a soft chuckle.

“Oh, sì, sì.” Charles looks very sure of himself when he says so.

The priest nods once. “Se ti sposi, allora dovrebbe essere qui, no?”

Charles turns slowly, looks at you, then smiles. “Okay,” he says, still looking at you. “Farò in modo che accada.” Then they’re exchanging quick Italian goodbyes and he’s walking back to you, guiding you to a nearby restaurant for dinner.

“What was that about?” You ask, the curiosity getting the best of you. You don’t remember what they said, so you can’t plug it into Google Translate; your last hope is getting Charles to translate it for you. You figure it’s no problem. He’s always translated for you during your stay here so far, word-for-word recounts that have you feeling fluent in the language after decoding them. Whether it be a family anecdote or a market transaction, the language has never become an issue for you.

You walk beside him, awaiting the translation that never comes. Instead, he smiles, shakes his head, and says, “That was nothing.”

—

Your first, last, and only close call happens during a wine and poker night with Charles’ uncles and aunts. You’d spent the morning semi-cuddling (to beat the early a.m. cold, you both insisted), and then a majority of the afternoon in the nearby vineyard volunteering to help pick grapes, and they’d offered to let you wind down for the night inside.

It starts off well enough—you and Giorgio best the first two rounds, much to everyone else’s chagrin, and you rest on the sofa, reading Giulia’s cookbook with a glass of wine. At quarter to midnight, Charles’ six-year-old cousin, Marco, comes inside and slots himself beside Charles, eyes sleepy.

“Cugino,” he says. Cousin. His voice is squeaky and childish.

“Yes, Marco?” Charles asks, preoccupied with his cards.

“Put me to sleep,” he says in accented English.

“Later. You should wait.”

“Can she do it?” A chubby hand rises and points toward you. You offer a small wink, sipping wine.

“Only if she wants to,” Charles says, turning to face you. You chuckle.

“I’d be happy to, Marco.” You smile.

“Cugino.” Marco tugs on Charles’ sleeve to regain his attention. “What’s her favorite color?”

Oh, shit. Neither of you had really thought this would come up, so you hope Charles can fake it well. While you know everything about him, he knows not much about you, especially little niche facts like this one. Charles clears his throat and goes, “Blue.”

“Favorite song?”

“Uh. Marco, aspettare. OK?”

“Why should he wait?” Giorgio asks, gruff. “Your aunts and I are curious, too.”

Charles meets your eyes, and you try to signal for him to lie, which he ends up doing. “It’s Take a Chance on Me. ABBA, zio.”

You do know that song, but it’s definitely not your favorite. You close the cookbook and get up, pacing onto the seat beside Marco and leaning against it, smiling and nodding. Beside Giorgio, Mia asks sweetly, “Do you have any tattoos, dear?”

Just you, or are Italian aunts ridiculously straightforward? You open your mouth at the same time Charles does, and that’s what leads to your downfall. Yes, one, you say. No, none, Charles says at the same time. You both look at each other, eyes wide.

His uncle grunts. “Bambino, do you know nothing of this lovely girl?”

“You misunderstand,” Charles says. “I thought she wouldn’t want to share that yet, zio. I tried to cover for her, but, er—she seems okay with sharing it.”

It’s a flimsy excuse but it seems to work, and the poker game resumes without any more questions about you.

Still, you grow nervous, frustrated a bit, and, once you spot Marco asleep, you take him into your arms and mumble a polite goodnight, carrying him upstairs. The call was just too close. Why did Charles feel the need to interject like that? Had you been caught in such a lie, you’d need to reveal everything.

Something else tugs at your chest, but you refuse to admit it incites an unhappy feeling out of you. Charles’ lack of knowledge about you did nothing but remind you that in the end, he did know nothing about you, and this was just contractual and obligatory and for the press-turned-for the family. You pat Marco’s forehead, sighing. You shouldn’t be so upset, but you are.

You know a lot about Charles, but it’s a cold fact that he can’t say the same about you; at least, not to the extent that you know him. The doors and staircase creak, signifying the game’s end and everyone’s retreat to bed; you await Charles’ entrance, which comes after you hear him opening your room, finding it empty, and then—

“Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, hushed. You get up and walk past him, crossing the corridor and opening the door halfway into your room.

He says, then: “You really never tell me anything about yourself.”

You freeze, turn, suddenly frustrated all over again. Suddenly sad. “Yeah. You really know nothing about me.” It’s exaggerated, so it cuts deeper.

He’s upset, you realize. “Do I have to beg for these sorts of basic facts? I wa—I…” He pauses. “I want to know you more. I’ve always wanted to.”

“You didn’t even think to—to ask me the most basic questions before we got here.” You’re aware he didn’t owe you this, but your irritance doesn’t quell. “My favorite song, my favorite movie, color, anything. I could name all that on your behalf.”

“Every time I ask, you deflect. You never told me, either,” he says defiantly.

You scoff and ponder for a minute before shaking your head and clambering down the steps. You need some fresh air, having gotten mad so quickly. You know it makes no sense—he never needed to ask about you. Prior to last week, you worked with him. Still, everything’s changed now, and it feels hurtful knowing he can’t name these things about you.

You take a seat on the terrace chair, pretend not to notice when he sits beside you, separated by a table.

You hug your arms closer to yourself, sigh. “It’s, a koi fish on my hipbone. Hurt like a bitch.”

He looks at you, curious. You continue.

“My high school superlative was ‘most likely to be elected president’—embarrassing, I know. I won the local spelling bee. Thrice in a row. I love the color green, and the movie Fantastic Mr. Fox.”

You pretend you’re not feeling anxious from the sudden sharing, clearing your throat and keeping your gaze trained on the landscape of houses and hills around you.

“I love crosswords to a worrying degree, I’m a dog person but have never owned one, and my favorite song is Don’t Go Breaking My Heart. I kill it on karaoke.” Finally, your eyes slide slowly over to look at Charles. He’s already looking at you, smile soft on his flushed, pink face.

“I didn’t think of you as much of a singer,” he says, eyes crinkling from the size of his smile.

Huffing and stifling a laugh, you cross your arms defiantly over your torso. Your lips melt into a pout, and you flip him off in an attempt to stave him off. He just laughs harder, gulping the rest of his wine with ease.

“To be fair, I think I dance better,” you respond proudly. “It’s still bad, but it’s better. Better than you, anyway.”

“Is that a challenge?” He asks, mouth half-open, still caught in a laugh. “Wow. Okay, d’accord. It’s on.”

“It is most certainly not a challenge, Charles!” You object frustratedly.

“Challenge accepted!”

Against your vocal protests, he gets up from his chair and reenters the house, exiting with his phone in one hand and the rest of the wine in the other. He browses his selection of songs, humming until he seems satisfied with one of them. He pours you both a glass of preparatory red, a grin lighting up his face.

You burrow into the chair, unrelenting when he stretches out a hand to invite you to dance. You only end up giving in when you’ve successfully finished your wine, getting up and straightening out the wrinkles in your dress.

Your hand is still loosely clutched around his when he plays the Bee Gees song he’d queued up, and then both of you start dancing.

It’s a bit fast-paced, but you catch up well, letting yourself move fluidly to the song. All the while, your hand remains looped around his, like an anchor, a saving point. You shut your eyes to immerse yourself in the song, a smile on your face. When you crack them open, you watch Charles dance goofily, with moves you’d be totally embarrassed by otherwise. This time, you’re strangely endeared.

Where you expected yourself—the both of you, really—to be stiff and awkward, you’re both loose and easygoing, chuckling and laughing as the song progresses. Your dress swishes by your knees softly when you move, letting go of his hand momentarily. It flexes with the feeling of his absence. Charles dances like he has no care in the world, with movements that would rival a fifty-year-old’s. You find that you don’t have a care in the world either, watching him with a stupid grin on your features.

Your heart swells and seizes, and you swallow, not wanting to realize why yet. He reaches for your hand again, seeks it in the evening light. You give it to him easily, cut his search short. You’re what he looks for.

He lifts your linked hands right as the song starts its ending, and you realize you’re supposed to twirl around them. With a laugh, you follow, letting your arms stretch out when you’re done. He pulls you back, with strength that sends you barreling into his chest. “Dude,” you mumble, giggling. “Charles, you ruined my flow.”

You both part, but barely; your hands are still clasped, your distance barely increased. You stare up at him when the next song clicks on.

It’s slower this time, a song you recognize from films and novels. You remember this specific rendition from two years ago in Silverstone, when Charles had shared over a meeting that he’d been busy teaching himself the piano—specifically, The Way You Look Tonight.

The song continues, your hands still together, your eyes boring into his. The moon makes his light eyes a different shade, all green and soft edges rivaling the intensity of his stare. “Come on,” he says. “Why stop, no?”

He raises your hands, guides his vacant one to wrap around your waist. It’s warm there, secure, belonging. With all the hesitance in the world, you wrap a hand around his upper arm. Your gaze is unbreaking.

“Thank you,” he says, steering you both into a slow, easy rhythm. The nerves melt away slowly when you continue to sway. You cock a head to the side in a silent request for elaboration.

“For sharing.”

“Oh. It was only right,” you reply. “Considering you know nothing niche about me.”

“Tell me…” He starts, but the words tangle in his throat, lodge themselves there in a fit of nerves. He breathes, breaks the gaze. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind… if you told me more.”

A brief shine of surprise passes through your eyes, and you nod. “Alright.”

“Alright.” He smiles.

“Do you think, ” you say, swallowing the sorrow, “we’ll need to keep doing this when the week is ov—?”

“Let’s not dwell on that,” he says quickly. He sounds—sad, almost, at the thought of this being fake. In the days spent here, picking grapes, drinking wine, going on bike rides and practicing Italian, it was easy to let the lines blur. Perhaps he’d forgotten.

You realize, when he leans forward and slots his chin atop your head: you’d forgotten, too.

—

Despite the tension, the next day goes fairly normal, and Charles takes you to town on Apollonia late at night. The Tuscan air is crisp and clean when he parks by a pub, loud not with techno music or hip-hop, but Italians singing. Inside, it’s not so crowded, populated by regulars, few tourists, and several older people.

Charles orders himself a beer, and a cocktail for you after you request something sweet. The bartender gives you an extra one on the house, and you and Charles seat yourself in front, watching people sing on the stage.

“Vi piace cantare?” Someone asks, and Charles quickly supplies: he’s asking if we like to sing.

You wave your palm back and forth. So-so, you signal. Charles, of course, ever the social butterfly, slides into a natural conversation with him, about Italy, pubs, beer, and singing. The guy introduces himself as Antonio, owner of said pub and a man who is apparently more than happy to clear the queue of singers for you two.

“Wait, seriously?” You ask. Antonio nods, clapping Charles on the back. You’d have thought they’d been friends for years or something.

You immediately turn down the request, but Charles scrambles onstage, having downed two bottles of beer. You’re overcome with horror as you watch him walk across the small stage to the side of it to request a song, encouraging whoops from the crowd.

“Ohhhhh. Oh, no. This is not a good idea,” you say, gulping. “Plus, I’ve had a lot to drink. Your aperol spritzes have so much alcohol in them.”

Beside you, Antonio laughs. “Non si preoccupi—do not worry. He seems to be a confident guy. You’re in good hands.”

“Am I? He didn’t even ask if I wanted to sing. I don’t even know what to sing.” You watch him whisper a song to the guy in charge of the pub’s ancient karaoke system, half-sure that the song archive stops after 1990. The stage creaks when Charles reaches for another mic and then stretches his arm out to offer it to you.

You muster your best angry face, but he just laughs. “Come on. You will like it.”

Gulping the rest of your cocktail, you accept the mic, and then his hand, strong in yours as he helps you climb onstage. The crowd of locals and few tourists cheer for the both of you, and you don’t do much to hide your stage fright; even the buzz of alcohol can’t help you. You hope (and know, deep down) that Charles will.

“Buona sera a tutti,” Charles says, met with more raucous cheering. “Io e il mio amico cateremo per te stasera.” He bows, and you follow a bit stiffly, not knowing what he’s saying.

“Amico?” Someone jeers from the audience. “O fidanzata?!”

Charles laughs, and you know he’s truly entertained because his eyes crinkle the way they do. You fiddle with your dress, your hair, anything to channel the nerves. He waves the crowd off with a shush motion and then turns, gestures for the song to start. He catches your eye, anxious, quells your nerves by taking your hand and squeezing it. Don’t worry, he mouths. I’m here.

You identify the song before two seconds of it even play, and the realization is breathtaking: your favorite. You shut your eyes and let a huge smile come onto your face, laughing. You almost can’t believe him for this.

He starts off the song, taking your hand and leading you into a dance. Don’t go breaking my heart.

You twirl around him, exaggerating your movements and smiling. I couldn’t if I tried.

Somehow, you find dexterity, flow in the movements, the words. Maybe because you love the song so much. Charles matches your enthusiasm, singing loudly and exaggerating his accent to incite laughs from the onlookers. When he speeds up, so do you, allowing both of you to join in an upbeat rhythm that leaves you panting.

Ooh-hoo, nobody knows it, you both sing, laughing and shimmying toward each other. You both point and laugh, joining hands again when the chorus ends to sing your lines all over again. Charles always leads you well, alert as he is excited, letting you melt into him, adapt to the dance. You feel like you’re floating.

Don’t go breaking my heart, he sings.

I won’t go breaking your heart, you sing back, ducking underneath your hands, laughing.

The tension, warmth, spark between you grow as the song begins to close, your words breathless, faces flushed with alcohol and semi-exhaustion. Even if your face seems to show it, though, you find you’re not tired at all, smiling as your heart beats faster. You pull away, dancing to the last bits of the song, having let go of all your worries, nerves. Why were you ever nervous? You always trusted him.

The song fades to an end when you pull together, faces as close as they’d ever been. You’re both breathing heavy with the intensity of your dance, smiling. You shut your eyes, laugh, with the ecstasy of this moment. From the crowd, the bartender yells: “Ora bacia! Kiss!”

Both you and Charles turn to the crowd, who quickly cheer him on, and laugh. But they’re not kidding, you realize—they’re all yelling kiss in unison, intermittent whoops and cheers joining the chant. It’s like a rural Italian version of an MLB kiss cam.

You turn back to Charles, who’s looking at you already. His eyes dart to your lips. You’d never done it before—appearances never went that far—but the crowd is unrelenting, and you nod back when he cocks his head to the side in silent question. Like always, you’re nervous. And again, like always, he helps you through it.

Warmth blossoms through your chest when he leans in and presses your lips together.

That would’ve been enough to satisfy the crowd, you think, but neither of you pull away. Sparks ignite your stomach, your hands looping around his neck, his around your waist. You kiss him back effortlessly, like you’d done this a million times before. You feel him smile against your own smile, laugh when you laugh.

The kiss is nothing if not dizzying, the perfect kind, the kind of the fairytale variety. His lips are soft, a bit chapped, against yours; when your tongues meet, they taste like aperol spritz and beer. Your hands tighten around his neck, like you need him still against you, when you both pull away for air. The crowd cheers.

You barely even hear them, staring into his eyes.

—

The night becomes cloudy, raining softly over the hills when everybody’s done singing; Charles boards Apollonia and like always, you wrap your hands around him, leaning against his back. You’re a bit tipsy, but above all, you’re utterly conflicted with how everything’s seemed to turn in on itself within the last few days.

The rain only grows as Charles revs harder, and the Vespa skids to a screeching, horrible stop. Thankfully, you’re not far from the farmhouse, so you don’t walk much; still, both of you are drenched, Charles’ arms stained with motor oil that drips off with the force of the rain. He stows away the bike, turns back to you. You’re looking at him expectantly.

“What is this?” You demand, raising your voice.

“Rain,” he replies blankly.

“This.” You wag a finger in between you both. “We kissed in Antonio’s pub, Charles. And we might—we might tell ourselves it was because of the crowd’s pressure, but we know. We both know that kiss was for nobody but us.”

He wipes a hand over his face. “What do you want it to be?”

“I don’t know,” you say honestly, sighing. Your hair is dripping with rain. “I really don’t.”

“I’ll tell you what I want,” he says. And he pauses, like he always does when he’s unsure, nervous, bumbling, and then blurts it out. “You—I want you. I was a fool to realize it late. But years of being with you, around you… I should’ve known earlier, I—”

“Charles,” you cut in, not expecting the sudden rawness. “No, no.”

“You’ve got to realize,” he says desperately. “I do. I constantly think of you, feel for you, look for you, look at you. I’ve known you for so long, I always end up liking you all over again. Everything comes back to you. Seeing you here, a place I love—seeing you love it here—listening to you sing, dancing with you—don’t you—haven’t you gotten it yet—?”

You stare at him.

You’re faraway, on the clouds, dry from the rain, when he says it. I love you.

—

The morning after is quiet, muted. You drown in your own overbearing thoughts.

“Got a lot on your mind?” You emerge from them quick, eyes darting over to Charles’ two aunts leaning by the doorframe of the dining room. You offer a polite smile, hoping it hides the conflict in the recesses of your mind.

“A bit,” you reply.

“Come join us,” Mia offers. “We will pick lemons outside. For lunch.”

You take a basket from the entryway and follow them through the front door and onto the yard, matching their slow pace, relishing in the morning sun that hasn’t yet grown too hot.

Tuscany is beautiful. Despite your best efforts, you’d grown to love it here over the course of the week. The hilly terrain, the fruit, the constant goat sightings, the bike rides to town where you clutch Charles’ shirt out of fear you might fall off.

They seem to spot good lemons within milliseconds, balding the branches in minutes. Perhaps because of your own cloudy thoughts, or maybe their breakneck speed, you fail to catch up, and they notice.

Mia again brings you out of your thoughts, guiding you three to the next tree. “Are you upset, bambina? Is Charles being a pest?”

“Oh, God, no,” you say with a laugh. “We—he’s a great tour guide. I never explored Italy before, and it’s beautiful here. He bikes me to town, because I can’t, uh, ride, unfortunately. He transacts for me, because my Italian is hopeless. He buys wine and cheese and lets me pet sheep when we bike past them on the hills.”

“Bambini innamorati.” Mia sighs fondly. “What is it you like about Charles?”

You hum, thinking. There are lots of things you like about Charles, but surely his family share the same sentiments. What’s unique? What about him is just yours? “His humor, I suppose,” you say. “He finds the fun in everything, even in competition, in boredom. Everywhere else, his good traits—everyone knows them. A stellar driver, charming, kind. Good-looking. But his humor, I think… I think he reserves his weirdest jokes, his best laughs, for the best people in his life. I’m just glad I’m there.”

Giulia is the next to speak, slow and encouraging, prompting you with a question you’d once dreaded but now feel excitement to hear: “Tell me again, how you and Charles met?”

It’s a rehearsed story, with bits of lies that you and Charles had to insert to make it appear more romantic and less coworker-esque. But you’d only told the short version before. To some journalists, to his cousin. You figure you’ll lie less and tell a more unabridged version. “Oh, okay,” you say, nervous and collecting your thoughts.

“I work with Charles. I was spending time with him a lot, so naturally, we became somewhat friends. Not very close, but comfortable enough. I had to take pictures and videos for him and his teammate, so we really were together a lot. I suppose that’s how we met. How we became… something more, is a totally different story. I think the best thing about it was that neither of us were looking for it.”

You breathe, pausing. “It simply happened—despite both of us not expecting, not needing a relationship, it happened anyway. Almost funny, how young people like myself look for the moment of love at first sight. The staggering moment of eye contact and realizing you’ve met your soulmate. But—it wasn’t like that for me. It happened slowly, like I had to dissect what I felt. Like my heart had always known, so I had to catch up with myself and realize I…”

You pause. You really aren’t lying. “…I’m in love with him.”

Giulia and Mia exchange a knowing look over the branches.

—

“So, are you dating?” Natalie asks. It’s the first race of the season, and everyone’s excited—but this interview moves slowly, Charles dictating the flow of it himself. He smiles.

“Yes, we are.”

“Well, there’d been rumors a few months ago that this was a PR stunt, calculated by your new officer, Jenna Griffin. So, tell me again, are you dating? For real?”

Charles seeks you in the crowd of the meet-and-greet fans, finds you in the front row. You roll your eyes when he smiles fondly at you. A Tuscany trip and several months later, he thinks, has changed everything.

For the better. “For real.”

#f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x reader

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asterias-record-shop · 11 months

Note

ok so here me out! for the bingo, pillow princess, with Ethan Landry! And prompt 10! I think it would be a cool idea where he is more dom, cause I view him as a switch! maybe they get back from a frat with the gang and the reader is really needy or something! anybting but anal and degradation really! have fun!

—𓆩[recharge]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Ethan Landry x Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2.6K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Ethan were an odd couple, he was more introverted while you were always wanting to do something until your energy burnt out. When it did burn out though, there was always one thing that could fix it- or, one person; Ethan Landry.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - foul language || of course, slight dom and sub dynamics || mentions of being drained emotionally || overstimulating environment || Ethan being a really good partner and helping you out || sex as a ‘recharge’ || Ethan is definitely a pleasure dom || smut warnings include public sex, sex in the elevator, oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, Ethan palming his cock & cumming in his pants, creampie, unprotected sex

It was way too crowded at the Halloween party, way too crowded. Everywhere you went there were just more and more people, and you couldn’t find Ethan anywhere.

“Chad, have you seen Ethan?” Your hands were getting shaky, head pounding from the bright lights.

“Uhm, no I’m sorry,” he says, taking a gulp from his cup before looking over at you. “Holy shit. You good?”

You shake your head. “N-No, I need to leave. I just… if you see Ethan, just let him know I’m going to be outside waiting for him to go home, alright?”

He shook his head. “No, I’ll go with you. No one’s supposed to be alone, remember? Come on, maybe we’ll find him on the way out.”

You nod, inhaling deeply as Chad placed a careful hand on your lower back. Chad never made you feel uncomfortable, and this was no different as he yelled at everyone to ‘move out the fucking way’ which made you giggle slightly. “Oh hey! There he is!”

You perk up, quickly looking around to see Ethan out of his costume, which explains why you couldn’t find him because you were looking for your cardboard knight. “Ethan!”

He looks up smiling, quickly finding you in the crowd before looking behind you. His smile falters as he walks over, meeting you both in the middle. “Everything okay?”

Chad shakes his head. “Y/N says she needs to leave, and I was going to walk her out so she wouldn’t be alone. But we found you! So it works out,” he looks down at you, raising a thumb. “You’re okay?”

You nodded. “Yes, I’m perfect. Thank you, Chad.”

You couldn’t see the slight tent in his cheeks, but he nodded. “Yeah, don’t mention it. Stay safe!”

He walks off as Ethan quickly grabs your hand. “You okay?”

You inhale deeply, shaking your head. Finding Ethan temporarily distracts you from noticing how many people were in this hot room, so you squeeze his hand. “Can we leave? Please?”

He nods, quickly finishing Chad’s path to the door before letting you out into the fresh, slightly chilly night air. You inhaled deeply, letting out a deep exhale as you watched the air fog up at your hot breath. “Thank you, E.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” he says, quickly placing his hand in the same place Chad did. “You want to get some food before we go home?”

You nod, pouting as you wrapped your arm around his, a small laugh coming from Ethan’s lips. You always did get a lot more childish when you were overstimulated socially.

He moved his hands to intertwine with your own, walking with you down the hall as he pressed soft kisses to your head. You inhale deeply, squeezing his hand as you walk through the city of New York. Your legs were cold, skin exposed to the cold air from the short dress you wore with your fairy costume. Ethan couldn’t stop smiling as your fingers rub along his own, the plastic wand you brought to the party now gone.

“You forgot your wand,” Ethan whispers as you both near the ice cream shop that had tacos that were to die for.

Even with the fact you were drained socially, the words only registered in the way that Ethan did not mean them to. “I don’t need my wand when I have you.”

He paused, looking over at you. “You have a wand, baby?”

You blushed madly, covering your cheeks as much as you could with one hand. “N-No! I don’t!”

You were lying and he knew it as he led you up the stairs, smiling as he opened the door to the ice cream shop. “You don’t have to lie to me, honey, I know how desperate you get.”

You groaned softly, covering your face as he led you down to where the person could take your order. Your cheeks were hot, even though it wasn’t the only thing developing heat. Your stomach twists and turns as you squeezed his hand while he ordered, ordering just an ice cream for you with your favorite flavors. “You want tacos?”

Yes, you did want tacos, but you wanted him more. “N-No, just the ice cream.”

He smiled, nodding as he tried to pull his hand from yours to grab his wallet. He smiled when your grip just got tighter, using his other hand to grab his wallet and give the man the money and grab your ice cream. “You can keep the change.”

You were already tugging him out the shop, his laugh echoing down the street as you licked the ice cream. He lets his hand slip into the exposed area of your back, pulling you closer. He watched you eat the ice cream quickly, mainly because you were trying to cool down your hot body, and his touch wasn’t helping.

“You're not going to share with me?” Ethan teased, his hand teasing lower along your back doing nothing to help your flusteredness.

You hold it up to his mouth, watching as he leaned down and takes the last of the top scoop, humming. “It’s cold.”

You laugh. “Of course it’s cold! What did you expect?”

“Hot,” he says as he opens the door to your apartment complex. “Something really hot.”

He was teasing you, and you knew it. You whined as he slowly pushed you to the elevator, already tugging at his pants as you threw away the cone. You were almost done with it, but it made you feel slightly guilty throwing it away, but not as guilty as you felt when Ethan pushed you into the elevator and you slammed the emergency stop button.

He laughs as you tugged on his shirt, whining. “E, please… please, I need you.”

“You need me honey? I thought you were drained, my love,” he teased you, another whine escaping your lips. “I don’t want to do this if you’re drained, sweetie, I’m not going to make you.”

You shake your head, pulling him down for another kiss. “No, no I want to. I want you to fuck me, Ethan, please.”

His hands pushed up your dress as he slowly crumbled to his knees and kissed along your thighs. “I’ll do anything you want me to, honey, anything at all. You just tell me.”

You pull your dress farther up your stomach, the mini skirt barely covering anything at all as he slipped down your black laced underwear. He leaned up, licking firmly against your wet cunt making you squeal as he grabbed the back of your knees. He pulled them over his shoulders, supporting you while you leaned against the metal wall.

You whined loudly as one of his hands squeezed your thigh, inhaling deeply as he slowly teased the ring of muscles with strong fingers. “You want it? I want to make you feel good, baby.”

You nodded vigorously, pulling back his thick curls as you stare down at him. “Please? Please, I want it, E I want it so bad,” you whined, your voice going up a few octaves as you bucked your hips. “I need you to fuck me so bad.”

He grins, his finger slowly slipping inside as you yell out. You rush to cover your mouth as his thumb rubbed into your clit, finding that perfect spot in that small nub of nerves that had your eyes rolling back. But when he stopped, his finger stilling inside of you making a loud whine fall from your lips, he looked up at you. “You want me to fuck you, baby? You don’t want me to eat you out?”

“Ethan!” You scolded, pushing your hips forward. “Stop being a tease! Put your mouth to work somewhere else.”

He laughed, leaning forward as he licked along your puffed up clit before easily sliding another finger into you. You moaned loudly as he used his tongue to repeatedly flick against your clit before moving lower, puckering his lips loudly against your hot cunt where his fingers thrusted in and out.

You moaned out loudly as he sucks, groaning loudly at every buck of your hips and tugging on his hair. “Ethan! Ethan, don’t stop, don’t stop!”

You were so sensitive, truly you were, you were already close to cumming on his tongue and fingers. You always were sensitive when you were needy, but at the same time, you could go for hours at a time to get back to your normally bubbly personality.

You pulled his face closer, another loud groan coming from his mouth making your pussy clench around his fingers as you wrapped your legs around his head. He groaned again, just to feel you clench around him, the thought of losing air between your thighs making his fingers speed up and his cock harden in his pants. He reaches down with his other hand, positioning the one inside of you to thrust with his pointer and middle before rubbing your clit with his thumb, palming himself through his jeans.

Your eyes rolled back at the loud groans falling from his lips, sparks traveling up your spine and your stomach clenching as his fingers curl deep inside of you, desperate to find that one spot that would make you cum on his tongue. He pushed his tongue into you with his fingers, a loud gasp escaping your lips as you tugged his hair harshly, groaning loudly as your mind blurred and mouth dropped open to fill the elevator with loud moans.

Ethan basically whines as he bucked his hips faster into his palm, sucking your cum straight from your pussy to taste all of you. He groaned loudly, just the taste of you making him cum in his jeans as you continued to ride his tongue, not done with his mouth quite yet.

You inhale shakily, letting out a whine. “Pl-Please, just a bit more, more more more, Ethan.”

He nodded into your cunt, three fingers pumping and curling inside of you, finding all of those perfect spots that made your stomach twist and moans fall uncontrollably from your mouth. “Yes! Yes, yes!”

He could feel his cock hardening all over again, his hips rutting on their own as all of your sounds fuel him as he sucked loudly on your pretty cunt. Another whine falls from your mouth, your pussy clenching again as his thumb gets harder against your puffy clit. You groaned this time, loud and from the back of your throat as you bucked your hips, hands stilling in his hair as you came again on his fingers.

He didn’t cum this time, he wanted to wait until he was inside of you and fill you up load after load until you were satisfied. He leaves your abused clit alone, humming into you making your pussy flutter around nothing as he pulls out his soaked fingers, pushing them into his mouth as he softly pats your thighs.

Shakily, you unwrap them from around his head with heavy pants as he helped you stand on the ground again. He slowly stood, pressing soft kisses to your lips as you pulled him lower for a firm, hot, tongue filled kiss. He groaned loudly as you jumped up, his hands catching your thighs immediately as he rolled his hips into yours, your bare cunt hot against the front of his jeans.

You pulled away with a giggle, looking down at the wet spot on his jeans. “Had some fun too, darling?”

He smiled, nodding. “Causing you pleasure gives me pleasure, honey,” he mumbles against your lips as your hands push down between you both to start unbuttoning his jeans. “W-Wait, you want to do it here? In here?”

You whined, shaking your head. “Please, Ethan. I need to feel you, just slip it inside and then we can go to my room, please.”

He inhaled shakily, nodding as you finished unzipping his pants and pulling them down just a bit to expose the front of his boxers, tugging on them. He groaned as you pushed your hand through the hole to pull out his cock that was still red and hard, cum still dripping out of the tip as he gasped. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

You whined, letting his cock go as soon as his tip pushed inside of you, his hips rutting to continue to thrust into you. Your nails dig into his back making him hiss, continuing to thrust even after he was fully inside of you.

He groaned into your ear as you whined, sucking on his neck to leave bright red and purple hickies. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re so fucking tight. Come on honey, how could I resist you? How could I not fuck this pretty pussy of yours, hm? You know just how to make me hard and want to fuck you.”

“N-No, don’t stop, please, I want you so bad. Need you to keep fucking me, E, I need you so bad,” you mumble into his neck, throat scratchy from all of the whining you were doing unintentionally. “Please don’t stop.”

Oh he wasn’t going to, how could he? He couldn’t even talk as your pussy flutters around his shaft, groaning loudly as the cold metal of the elevator started moving again. His hips move faster, gasps falling from your lips before they turned into loud moans. He wasn’t going to let the opening of the doors stop him from cumming inside of you, the only thought in his mind painting your insides white. “You’re doing so good for me baby, come on, you got another one in there for me right?”

You nodded repeatedly as his hand pushed in between the two of you, rubbing your clit. “What, does that feel good? Huh? Tell me how good it feels.”

You whined, head tilting back as he leaned forward to press kisses against your neck. “Yes! Yes, feels so good, so so good!”

Your words fuel him, continuous praise making his heart swell and his cock twitch inside of you, thankful for the fact you live in one of the higher floors. He grunts as the dings of the elevator get louder, groaning loudly with a final snap of his hips to thrust deep inside of you, cumming right as the doors open.

He slowly pulled you from the metal walls, your body slumping on his as you hugged him tightly and he walked to your apartment door. He keeps his cock inside of you, pulling the key from his pocket as he unlocked it and opened the door. After shutting it and locking it, your fingers run through his hair carefully as he tossed the keys onto the counter and goes straight to your room.

He opened the door, immediately letting you both fall against your bed as he rubbed your sides. “Want to go again?”

You nodded before you gasped.

“Ethan! We left my underwear inside the elevator!”

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