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#like what he did with the boy. he was being all nice to the boy and they were on a train and he also just let passepartout be relegated to
cherry-leclerc · 3 days
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star-crossed ☆ mv1
genre: angst, fluff, humor, lots of back and forth, smut
word count: 9.1k
Fixated, you and Max struggle to stay away from one another. All the while, everyone tries to convince you that it won't ever work out.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+...penetrative sex, fingering
inspired by this !
cherry here!...as a wise person once told me: footnotes = crumbs. hope that helps!! enjoy :)
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The table was long, practically going for miles, but not really—it was just your closest friends. They all converse with one another, talking about the upcoming season, the upcoming season, and oh, what’s that? The upcoming season. And you’ve had enough of it, he can tell, so he gently rubs his thumb over your hand, easing your nervous tick. 
White florals lay neatly on the wooden top, fairy lights hang up above your heads, and Frank Sinatra plays from your fiancé’s phone, connected to the Bluetooth. 
Pierre stands up firmly, clinking his glass with a spoon. When it doesn’t seem to get anyones attention, Alex lets out a loud whistle. Everyone’s heads turn. “Merde—finally. Well, first of all, welcome on behalf of the groom's best man!” Crickets. His smile drops. “I-Its me. I’m the best man.”
“More like Best Party Killer. Sit down,” Daniel yells, aiming a peony at his friend's head. 
The Frenchman swats it away, to which Kika glares as it hits her. He nervously chuckles, pecking her cheek, swiftly. “Comme je le disais…we’re here to celebrate two very important people. Can ya take a guess?”
“Why did you choose Pierre as your best man again?” you whisper to the twenty-six year old. He shrugs, hushing you once before his watercolor eyes flicker back to his friend. 
“Any more guesses?”
“Okay, thank you!” you yelp, standing up and motioning him down. “Thank you, Pierre, for saying a whole lot of nothing, really.”
The blue eyed boy silently pleads, hands pressed together in prayer. “Oui, oui, I’m done, I’m done.” A warm hand snakes to wrap around your wrist and you sigh, sitting back down onto his lap. He clears his throat. “I thought we could go around and…share some stories about the soon-to-be husband and wife. I’ll start.”
“Great,” Kika groans, massaging her temples. 
“September 4, 2022.”
-
Circuit Zandvoort—September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)
“You said it would be warm!”
Lissie squeals when you reach out to pinch her forearm. “I said slightly warm. More so cool.” A harsh glare. She winces. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”
Despite the evident goosebumps, you march your way over to the pen, awaiting your first interview. Lissie stands besides you, raising two thumbs up and a toothy grin. You got this! Your stomach churns as you fix your set up. She’s right, you’ve worked for this moment, day and night. You weren't going to mess up for any reas—
“Should I just come back later or…”
Blinking, your heart stops beating as your mouth runs completely dry. He looks around for his publicist who just sighs and starts tugging him away. 
And we’re here with Max Verstappen, Lissie hisses—assisists. Coughing loudly, you bring up the microphone to your lips. “Max Verstappen!” The RedBull driver turns back to face you, clearly puzzled. You cringe at your sudden outburst, but continue. “So nice to see you. Saw you had a magnificent drive.”
Blue eyes pierce basically through your soul. He smiles, shoulders relaxing, hands leaning against the barrier. “Yeah. We did have a lot of luck on our side today. Plenty.”
It wasn’t that hard to pick up from there, question after question being basically given to you, to which he answers with professional ease. His dimples even pop out with every punctuation, it makes your chest swell. You clear your throat, eyes flickering to your list that now narrows down to one last inquiry. 
“Everyone nowadays fears you, it seems like.” He laughs, rolling his eyes. “But I do have one question—how does it feel to be the villain in all of Formula One?”
His smile slips away. “Sorry?”
“Uh-oh,” Lissie mutters.
But you don’t catch onto it, his sudden defensive tone, his dark glare. Beaming like the sun on the earth, you nod. “Well you aren’t the most liked, per se. Often hated by others. Do you think your dominance has affected your relationship with the drivers on the grid?”
When you finally look up, you clearly notice his change in demeanor, and that makes you flinch. We should get going, his publicist squeaks, already pushing him away. Let’s not air that last question, thank you. 
Fiercely, you turn to face your friend. “I still had a minute left!”
“Why would you say that?” she screeches. “Why, why, why?”
You blink. “I’m lost. What did I do wrong?”
The brunette sighs, brown orbs analyzing the short clip. “You got on Max Verstappen’s bad side, that’s what.”
-
“Their relationship had started rather…rocky,” Pierre announces, swaying his hands back and forth for emphasis. “But don’t you worry! I. Fixed. Everything.”
-
“She really said that?” 
Max whips his head to Checo, then to Yuki, then to Pierre. Each wears a loopy smile. He scowls. “She’s new here, she must be—I’ve never seen her before. Who does she think she is?”
“A legend, that’s who,” the Frenchman retorts, almost high and mighty. 
Max takes a long sip of his energy drink before scoffing. “I don’t care if she’s royalty, I’m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.”
A few hours have now rolled by and you’ve finally realized—you messed up. Here you go, basically painting him out to be the bad guy, when really, he’s just a strong driver. No one thinks he’s a villain, you think he’s a villain. 
“You think he’s going to protest against me? Get me fired? Boycott? Hates me?”
Lissie giggles, tidying up the equipment from the last round. “No. No. No. Maybe?”
Groaning, you hit your forehead over and over again with your clipboard before a sharp accent makes you stop. “Hello.”
“Oh! Hi!”
His lips stretch, then steps closer to you. “I’m Pierre—”
“I know who you are,” you cut him off. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m—”
“New?”
Your cheeks burn up at his accuracy. “Yes?”
“I thought so,” he pronounced with a goofy grin. Annoyance builds up inside of you but hold back and bite your tongue. The Frenchman fixes his sunglasses that lay on the bridge of his nose. “So…I’m going to take the chance and say that what you asked wasn’t meant to hurt his feelings?”
You soften up quickly. “I hurt his feelings?”
A nose scrunch. “Let me backtrack; Max doesn’t have feelings, therefore there’s nothing to hurt, but he does hold killer grudges, so yeah.” He lifts the frames. “He doesn’t like you.”
“Lovely,” Lissie mumbles from her spot besides you. “Is there a way…we…can fix all this misunderstanding? Because that’s what this is! A misunderstanding!”
The Alpha Tauri driver clicks his tongue in deep thought. “There’s not much to do other than apologize. Explain yourselves, maybe? He’s very Old-Fashioned.”
“Okay, yes.” You scurry down the paddock. “I could do that! I could so do that.” 
“Other way!” he yells. Turning around, you see him pointing you down to the right. You giggle, nervously, and continue your sprint.
You catch him quite fast; his tall stature and blond hair are pretty easy to spot. “Hey—hi!” Gasping for air, you clutch onto your side. “H-hello. Again.”
His jaw ticks once, and in an eerie motion, a warm smile forms. You shudder. “Yes?”
“I just wanted to apologize about before. That was not the right thing to say, I am so sorry…please don’t demand for my release.”
A dark brow quirks up, looks around, then back down to you. “I’m not here to ruin your life, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
You sigh in relief. “God. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 
Crouching down to you, he tilts his head to the side with a sly grin. “You’re very welcome, but that doesn’t mean I like you.��
Your breath hitches, shivers spreading like a wildfire. “Sorry?”
“Yeah.” He steps away. “You already said that.”
-
“He was a bit guarded. Definitely guarded.”
“Isn’t this supposed to make me look good?” your fiancé grunts, dark eyes narrowing down on the Frenchman. “You know what? Just sit down.”
Pierre smirks. “See? Guarded.”
-
Autodromo Nazionale Monza—September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)
“I’m not a quitter.”
“There we go!”
“But he makes me want to quit.” “Oh, well now we’re back to square one,” Pierre groans. “He’s being hard headed, that’s all. I’ll talk to him again, don’t worry.”
And he does. 
It happens during one of the worst moments in your life; you weren’t wearing makeup. 
“You look—”
“Hideous?” You blush. “Yeah, don’t even mention it.”
He swallows, digging his hands deep into his pockets. “I wanted to apologize… for the way I reacted. It was immature.”
“N-no, you had every right to be upset. I crossed the line and I’m sorry.”
Max nods, Adam’s Apple dancing up, then down. “Truce?” 
Staring down at his large hand, you smile and slip yours past it. “Truce.”
And as a rare occasion, his smile meets his eyes, crinkles and all. The RedBull driver disconnects first, then rubs his jaw once before signaling down to your wet hair. “Pool day, I see? Enjoying the benefits?”
With a cheesy look, you shrug. “It’s one way to relieve stress.”
“Yeah—and what’s another?”
His tone is sultry and irresistible, you can’t help but rip your gaze away. “Anything that brings thrill, I suppose.” A tick. “Whatever that may be.”
“And what if it’s something bad? Does that still count?”
You laugh, throwing your head back. The Dutchman’s lips wobble as a weak attempt to not smile. “You’re not a bad person, so yes.”
His tongue clicks. “Uh, I don't know. As I recall, you called me a villain?”
Groaning, you gently smack his chest. “Will you ever let it go?”
“Might take me a while…”
Just as you’re about to respond, your phone rings and you smile. “L-Lissie.”
 The blue eyed boy nods. “Are you going to be interviewing me from now on?”
“Ah—is my ban lifted?”
“Yes.”
You roll your eyes. “Then yes.” Strolling past him, you wave. “See you around. And put on some sunscreen. It’s good for you.”
-
“Where are you even going with any of this?” Lewis hollers from the end of the table, taking a sip of wine. “You’ve just been talking about yourself, not them.”
Pierre scowls. “I’m getting there!” He returns his attention to the couple, gleaming. “So, as you can imagine, once I weaseled my way in and fixed their problems—your welcome, by the way—a certain spark came through. It was clearly evident.”
-
Marina Bay Street Circuit—October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)
“Nepo-Baby?”
You hum. “They all are.”
Lissie groans. “So how will I know which one?”
“Oh, you’ll know.” Squinting accusingly, the British girl sticks her tongue out before standing up, hands on her hips. She yawns. “I have to go find Will. Something about—whatever, you probably don’t even care.”
You giggle. “Nope. Have fun.”
Silence engulfs you as you close your eyes momentarily, pulling your coat over your chest. 
“Don’t you have to watch the race in order to report back on it? Ask questions?”
“Dude, I was just falling asleep…” You peek an eye open. “And yes. But it hasn’t started, so I'm clear.”
Max whistles, unimpressed. Falling down next to you on the fluffy couch, he places his hands over his stomach, closing his eyes, too. You try not to laugh and instead do the same. 
“Haven’t seen you around much.”
“Been hiding from you.”
“Seems like. Don’t do that.”
“Fine.” You grin, sitting up straight. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
“Probably.”
You snicker, pink tongue poking from in between your teeth. The cold air makes you snuggle deeper into your wannabe-blanket and he can’t help but take occasional glances. Teeth chatter. “C’mon. I’ll walk you.”
“...and I turned and said, isn’t that Celine Dion?” Lissie waves her hands back and forth, swaying like a Fly Guy. She pouts, stopping her movements. “Turns out I was just really freaking high.” Will laughs, jotting down God knows what onto a piece of paper as she continues cluttering herself with an obnoxious amount of wires. The British girl huffs. “Y’know, sometimes I wonder if it was—” A sharp gasp. “Him? Oh my—it’s him!”
“Don’t you mean her?” Will hums from his spot, still not looking up.
But wide-eyed Lissie stares with her jaw on the floor as you and Max cross by, laughing and pushing each other as you make your way down the paddock. As soon as you blush when he winks, it becomes all the more real. The young reporter nods, curled hair bobbing up and down. 
“R-right—her.”
-
Autódromo José Carlos Pace—November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)
“Is he cute? Yeah, maybe.” A finger pinches her top lip before releasing. “In a weird way.”
“Hey,” you warn.
“Is he your type? Don’t know why, but yes. I could see why you’re into him.”
“Great…”
“But is he the right choice? No. Not at all.”
“...and fantastic.” Flopping down onto your towel, you groan. Suddenly the blazing sun wasn’t the worst feeling because Lissie was right. It’s unbearable, almost. You prop up, facing her with a scrunched nose and squinted eyes. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh?”
“Oh no.” A sip of coconut water. She purses her lips. “God no.” You sigh, slowly, then sprawl back down with a sour snarl. You can hear her debate; muttering, mumbling. Still, that doesn’t get rid of your bad mood. The brunette pokes your thigh gently, nibbling her bottom lip. “He’s just so—and you’re just so—” A beat. “I’m just looking out for you.”
“Yeah.” Waves crash harder. Sun beams brighter. You open up the bottle of sunscreen, spurting some onto your burnt legs. You rub briskly; up, down. She flinches. “Yeah, I know.”
-
“And for a while, that was that,” Pierre announces, feigning indifference. “No more love birds.”
“Oh,” George blurts. Dark brows pinch up, teasing smile playing out. “Then why are we here?”
“Oh God,” you groan, digging your face into the nape of the twenty-six year old. You can faintly sniff out his musk scent, clean and so him. It makes you smile like a teen. “What if we just elope?”
He chuckles, vibrating and sending you on your own personal rollercoaster. “We always can. Is that what you want?” And he asks because he knows—no. That’s not what you want. Separating yourself to peck his cheek, you shake your head with a playful pout. “No. That’s not what I want.” 
“Good.” Watercolor eyes flicker to where Pierre finally gets yanked down and Lissie takes over with a proud smile. “Because I think this is actually going somewhere.”
-
Bahrain International Circuit—-March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)
So you kept your distance, and oddly enough, he did too. For plenty of reasons. And it wasn’t even that hard, really. He spent his summer break traveling and you spent yours as a homebody. No texts, no calls, no nothing.
“Heads or tails?”
“Tails.”
A sly grin. The silver coins flips a couple rounds before jumping up and down, clapping. “Heads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.”
“You’re going to get a sugar high and not be able to sleep later.”
“Until I can feel my teeth rot,” you retort, slipping your tongue over your pearly whites. 
Answering a few emails, you perch onto a chair. It’s too stiff, so you twist and turn until you ultimately decide to just stand. A gust of wind salutes you as your orbs flicker up to the sudden shadow. A breath catches. 
Max tilts his head in greeting. “Working hard already?” Your lips part. “The season’s barely begun.”
And just like that, your world tilts on its axis, but this time with more to lose. 
-
“As your best friend—” Lissie points clumsily at Carmen who giggles while the British girl furrows her thick brows. She glances around before spotting you dying with laughter on your fiancé’s lap. She claps. “I knew straight away—he was the one for you.”
-
Miami International Autodrome—-May 7, 2023 (Miami Grand Prix)
“How long has this been going on for?” she hisses, disappointed eyes challenging both you and Max. She gags at the hickeys on your neck and his tousled hair. 
With wobbly legs, you take her hands into yours. “A week—”
“No.”
“Well, two—”
Green paints her face. “No.”
“One month,” he murmurs from his corner in the elevator. Watercolor eyes flicker up, loopy. “It’s been a month. Ever since—”
“Azerbaijan.” Shamefully, you look down at your shoes and nearly scream bloody murder when you spot your thong just a few steps behind her. “Ew, gross,” Lissie gasps, shutting her eyes in despair. Taking in the opportunity, you scatter down and retrieve the thin fabric. The Dutchman releases a laugh, but bites down when the British girl glares hard. She curls a brow at your breathless state. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Giggling nervously from your place on the floor, you keep your hands behind your back; out of sight, out of mind. “Begging for forgiveness?”
“Oh stop it, a piece of land is what I need in order to forgive you for being dumb as shit.”
You frown, but quickly stand up when she exits the elevator. You can hear him follow with a bored expression. “Lissie, wait!”
Like a spinning top, she turns back, long layers slapping her pink face. “You two know this isn’t a good idea, right?”
“Yes—”
“For a million different reasons—”
“I-I’m aware,” you stutter. 
“Then why did you do it?” she whispers. 
And the truth is, you don’t know. All you know is that nothing else matters when you're with him. It’s sickening how blindsighted you get. Anxious eyes twirl over to the blue eyed boy who shared the same expression despite being unbothered a few seconds ago. 
Licking your lips, you play with the fabric. “That’s it. We’re done.” You turn to the RedBull driver. “Tell her.”
“Done.”
For a moment, you almost let yourself flinch from how fast and easy he’s able to say that one word. Lissie’s judgmental eyes look at you, then him, then sighs, reluctantly nodding. An awkward moment ticks by and then she’s focused, appalled. 
“Are those your panties?”
-
“You were like a dog who couldn’t bear the idea of leaving its bone.” Everyone snickers while you throw the same peony Daniel had aimed at Pierre to shut him up. She laughs, raising her arms up in defense. “And I know—I know—I came in like a monster, warning you off of all the drivers because like it or not, they’re scumbags—” 
“Ey. Watch it,” Carlos deadpans from the corner, brown eyes playfully glaring. 
She shrugs. “But I no longer liked playing the role of an evil step-sister so…” Tears brim and you choke on a wet sob. “I’m just so happy that you’re happy.” A pause. “That you're both happy.”
Leaping off his thick lap, you rush over, embracing her. She laughs, returning the gesture. “I love you,” you start. I know. “And I’m so happy that you never—”
A knowing smile. “I’d do anything for you.” 
-
Circuit de Monaco—May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)
Sneaking into his motorhome, you moan as soon as he gets his hands on your; sliding up and down your body with urgency. Heat radiates off of him and onto you. All of this— the cramped room, his lips attacking your neck—makes you dizzy. Clutching onto his sweaty hair, you arch, completely to him and for him. 
“We s-shouldn’t.” You gasp. Long fingers tease your aching pussy as you whine. He instantly slaps a large hand over your mouth as he continues his movements. The stretch burns, but it's fairly familiar that you don’t even cry out, just stare back with knitted brows and an open mouth that he can’t see, but can feel expand beneath his palm. 
“You’re probably right.” A steady stroke. “You should be out there.” His knuckles curl as he reaches your g-spot. “Preparing those foolish questions.” A muffled moan. “But you’re here, because you know that this excites you as much as it does me.”
Calloused pads push down before drawing figure eights deep inside. “You’ve been a bit uptight. Could it be—”
“No,” you cut him off. “Don’t even try and blame it on—”
“Fine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?” 
Feeling your orgasm rolling in is one thing, but your snarkiness is another. Gritting your teeth, you force him down to kiss you, teeth and all, and then rip away with a sultry smile. “Maybe, but who cares?”
You’re not completely off. At that moment in time, neither of you cared about the consequences. It’s just that as soon as a room of watchful eyes flicker to you two, you swallow a low wince. 
Grabbing your microphone, you fix your disheveled hair. Lissie’s eyes flicker between you and him, slow and scary. Like she’s reading right through you and your lies.
Beaming at the awaiting grid, you raise your chin up. “Who’s ready?”
-
“Finally,” Daniel yells, rolling his cuffed sleeves. “Someone with an actual story to tell.” A wide smile has never made you more nervous than at this very instant, so reasonably so, you swallow the entire glass of—
“Vodka, baby! That was my vodka—your champagne is right there.”
Blinking, you giggle, wiping your plump lips with the back of your hand. “What yours is mine, no? Isn’t that what marriage is all about?”
He chuckles. Lean arms wrap around your waist like a harness. “Keep this up and you’re not going to be able to sleep later.”
“The opposite, actually,” you state as a matter-of-fact. “Just need to get blackout drunk.”
He cocks his head to the side. “That’s not like you.” “...should have seen her! She was wasted as shit!” the Australian yelps, buzzing with excitement. You nip at the air all while he raises his voice an additional octave. “I found her there, at the bar, close to getting alcohol poisoning, but you know what they say—only drunks and children tell the truth.”
-
Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)
“Oui, the beer! Fucking amazing,” Pierre declares with a mouthful. 
“Say it, don’t spray it,” someone screeches, and is quickly identified to be Alex when he wipes his shimmery forehead. You laugh, taking baby sips from your drink. Shirley Temple, because contrary to belief, you weren’t a nasty drunk.
The Frenchman pouts, tapping his fingers against the brown glass. He turns to you with a sheepish grin. “I read your article.”
“Yeah?”
He nods. “Have to admit, it's kind of boring. It’s not your fault though. Max Verstappen's domination has made the sport sort of…” He pretends to wilt, to which you toss your head back with laughter. 
“Your time will come, Pierre, your time will come.”
“Shit, shit, shit! Bathroom!” Lissie’s long legs wobble like a plate of jello as you hurry over to catch her. 
“Crap—you smell like shit.”
The British girl squeals, yanking her hair, dancing from side to side. “I smoked a fat blunt, but never mind that, if I don’t find a loo in approximately five seconds, then I will smell like actual shit.”
A nose scrunch. “That’s not very lady-like.” She paces some more. “Let’s go.”
Meanwhile, on the other side of the crowded room, Max watches as the two journalists slip away. He keeps a close eye for a while until a certain brunette swoops in right next to him with a loopy grin and crinkly eyes. 
“You should talk to her. Seems like you really like her.”
“What? What makes you say that? What makes you think that?”
Daniel shrugs, rotating his blunt back into his mouth. “Dilation.”
The Dutchman gags. “What…like when a woman gives birth?”
A sore laugh. “As in your eyes.” Another hit. “Y’know…they just look—different. When you look at her, I mean.”
And he hopes it is not apparent that these words make him swallow. For the past year, he’s tried his best to hide his feelings for the sake of not making a fool out of himself, and later for a whole other, but…
He licks his sudden dry lips. “Hm. Doesn’t matter if my eyes fucking shine or not, she’s not my type.”
The Australian frowns. “Sucks. Lissie’s really cool.” His eyes flicker over to the RedBull driver in a nonchalant manner, but when he blinks back with rose tinted cheeks, despite not having a sip of alcohol, he chokes on his puff. “Oh shit, no…”
In a flash, Max yanks the blunt away, dipping it into an anonymous drink. “You’re right, she is so cool—”
Brown eyes narrow down in accusation, brows knitted sharply. “Right, but we’re not talking about Lissie…” A wince. “Mate, you can’t…you know you can’t.”
And just like that, Daniel notices the blown out pupils revert back to its original shape. Small and empty. “Yeah. Of course.” He plops back down onto his stiff seat, rubs his eyes, then smiles. “I know that. I-I-I was never going to—yeah.” 
-
“He—” Daniel points over to the broad twenty-six year old who sits with a timid smile. “...didn't have a single sip of beer that night because he was too focused looking after her.” A whistle. “And if that isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.”
“Wow, congrats,” George says to your fiancé. “For not being an alcoholic, really, that's impressive.” You can hear the humor that coats his voice and you can’t help but giggle. Calloused fingers slip up to pinch your thigh as you laugh harder. 
“That’s why I drank twice as much that day,” Pierre announces with a firm voice. “Because he was missing out on some fantastic beer.”
“Drunkard,” Alex whispers to Lily who stifles a snicker. 
The tall Australian clicks his tongue. “So who was the wasted one who confessed their little white lies?”
Everyone’s eyes turn to face you as you burn up with mortification.
“What the fuck, I barely even drink!”
-
Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)
“You.”
“Me?”
You snarl, stomping over. “She's a lightweight, dumbass. Why would you get her high? Jesus, we have a flight in eight hours.”
Daniel cackles, clapping as if delighted at the fact. “She kept insisting! I felt bad.”
An eye roll. “Douche.”
He tries to make it up to you with a drink. “Pierre says they’re good.” You eye the bottle hesitantly. He sighs. “Come on, trust me.” He eventually sneaks off for a minute, but returns with a new blunt. 
“Did you pull another one out of your ass or where did you get that from?”
“Oh no. How many did you drink?”
Squinting, you motion him to take a seat. He does, but he can’t even smoke in peace now that you sway from side to side, despite being seated. “I don’t know. Too many.” He groans, large hands tugging his hair. You take a long sip, then raise your glass like some wannabe. “He told me he loves me. Tonight. Right when you left. And you know what I told him?” Another sip. “I told him I love him too.”
The Australian chuckles. “I didn’t expect you to fall for someone like him.”
“Me either. But I fell—tumbled.” You frown. “I’m just not sure this is the right thing to feel, y’know?”
His orbs flicker to the twenty-six year old who huddles with a bunch of the other drivers. He smiles, tilting his head. “Why not?”
“Because everytime I look at him, I fear the way my heart beats. He laughs, I laugh, and it feels wrong. He smiles, I smile, and it feels wrong. He makes one of our inside jokes, I understand, and it feels wrong.” A shaky laugh. “And something that should feel fucking right, doesn’t.” Glossy eyes switch over to him. “Does that make sense?”
“Not really.” 
“Great,” you let out, wiping your tears away. “It’s fine, I didn’t expect you to understand.”
Daniel smiles, fondly, like an older brother. “It doesn’t, and you want to know why?”
“Why?”
A second passes by before he leans back against his chair. “Because it looks like you really—really—like him, so why should any of that matter? Just let yourself be happy, fuck everything else.”
You scoff, furrowing your brows. “You’re a bad influence.”
“Why?”
“Because it would never work out.”
“And why not? You’re giving up too eas—oh.” Almost robotically, he drops his blunt into your beer bottle. “You can’t…”
“Yeah. I know.” A pause. “Beer’s ass, by the way.”
-
Daniel taps his fingers against his chin, comedically. His orbs flicker between you two who stare up at him in deep focus, awaiting for his next words. He grins. “You two, it works. It always has.”
-
Circuit Zandvoort—August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)
“Oh fuck,” he grunts, thrusting into you harder as you cling onto his arm, eyes screwed shut. “H-holy fucking—hell.”
You moan, mouth hung wide open. “Feel so good, Maxie, so, so good.”
Blue eyes admire the way you arch towards him like some sort of warm invitation. The way your legs lazily drape over his sweaty waist, how your scent hugs him like no one else. It’s all so familiar, and nice, and right. Your soft palm grazing his jaw makes him alert in an instant, desperate to not miss a single thing that lives inside this moment. 
He furrows his dark brows. “We-We’re not made for one another.”
“I know.” He grunts, animalistically. “They warned me about you.”
“They told me to stay away from you.” His tip brushes against your g-spot and your head lolls back, a loud sound. “But God, it’s been impossible.” 
“Max, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—I’m close.”
He grins, rubs your clit, and whimpers when he feels you reach your orgasm. You shudder when he follows soon after, face digging into the nape of your neck. Your heart pounds like a ticking time bomb, but still, you run your fingers through his dirty blond waves. 
“Lissie…Daniel…they’re—”
“Right?” You choke up. “Yeah, you don’t know how much I hate that they are.”
He pulls away, and somehow, his watercolor eyes appear more blue than ever before. Black, almost—nearly. And you’re sure yours do too. 
Max plays with your hair, tracing it like a map. He gulps. “So do I.” A tug. “I love you. Y-you weren’t some fuck buddy to me…you’ve always been more than that. And…I hate that too.”
A wet laugh. “I love you, too.” Wobbly smile. “And it’s because I love you that I know what comes after this.”
He hums. “What would that be?”
“Nothing.”
-
“I know many of you guys are wondering why I’m best man—”
“Not wondering, more like questioning,” Carlos quips with a sly smirk.
Pierre flips him off and you laugh at the immature interaction between the drivers. “Because it really could have easily been anyone else. Ha! Even you Carlos.” The Spaniard mocks him with a shady, playful, look. 
“Then again, who would have thrown a better rehearsal dinner for Charles and his bride-to-be?”
-
Circuit Zandvoort—September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)
"You got on Max Verstappen’s bad side, that’s what."
“It’s probably nothing or he’s just a sensitive little pussy,” you shoot back defensively. 
Lissie snickers, hushing you, orbs scanning the pen. “You can’t say shit like that! Any of it, actually,” she adds. “Just…think before saying anything.”
You huff, arms crossed, stubbornly. “Fine.”
As the open area starts filling up more and more, by some miracle, your nerves start dying down.
Or so you thought.
“Before I let you go, I do have one more question.” Charles smiles down at you, shy dimples poking through. You return the gesture. “Would you consider yourself Ferrari’s savior or their scapegoat?”
“Jesus,” the British girl groans, covering her eyes with second-hand embarrassment. 
The Monegasque lets out a nervous laugh, turning to face his publicist who simply tippy toes and whispers something into his ear. He nods. “I-I-I actually have another interview set up, but thank you for your…questions.” Pink tints his ears as he looks at you one more time before strolling away.
“Alrighty then,” Lissie hollers. She sneaks the microphone away. “Jitters, totally normal, but yeah, you’re done for today.”
-
“I don’t care if she’s royalty, I’m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.”
“Would you look at that?” Pierre gloats with a wicked grin. “Max Verstappen got butthurt.”
The Dutchman scoffs. “No, I did not. I just don’t like stupid questions, and she made one.”
Yuki snickers at his wary response. Pierre rolls his eyes. “I could talk to her, if you want me to. I love shit like this.”
“I don’t.”
“Well too bad, I’m going to.”
-
“Yeah. You already said that.”
Dumbfounded, you blink as he walks away, wet towel draped over his head. If you had known he was this much of a shithead, then you wouldn’t have bothered to try and apologize. Clicking your tongue, you burn with fury as you glare, but as soon as the Ferrari driver brushes past you, you fall back from your trance. 
“Hey!”
He turns, green eyes furrowed with confusion. “Hey.”
A wince. “I’m sorry about my ignorant question from earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 
Charles blushes. “Am I that easy to read?”
“No, but Pierre let me know.” You awkwardly kick your shoe against the pavement and his eyes follow. You stop. “I sort of pissed off two of the most important drivers on the grid today. You, uh, just happen to be one of them.”
He softens like ice cream on a hot summer day. “I’m not pissed.” You almost let out a giggle from how foreign his accent makes the curse sound. He stammers. “You just caught me off guard, that’s all. Plus, I can’t answer questions like those. It would make all of us look bad.”
“Oh. Duh. Of course.” Now you burn up. “I should have known. And it’s no excuse, but I’m new and I’m just…figuring it out.”
His eyes crinkle as he nods. “Who was the other driver?”
You groan. “Max.”
He winces, shaking his hands, theatrically. “Yikes. Yeah, now he’s probably pissed.”
-
Autodromo Nazionale Monza—September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)
 “Will you ever let it go?”
“Might take me a while…”
As soon as your phone dings, vibrating against your palm, he curls a brow. “L-Lissie,” you fill in with a subtle smile. “See you around. And put on some sunscreen. It’s good for you.”
Rushing back to the pool with a new bottle of SPF, you grin as he aims a deadpan expression. “A little Vitamin D is always necessary.”
“Don’t care, I don’t want to look like a peanut in two years.” You plop some onto his hand as he childishly swipes it over his face. You squirm with the way droplets slither down his toned chest.
Charles extends his hands. “Can I have some more?”
You laugh, wet hair tossing back like a curtain. “Hypocrite.” 
Green eyes glare down, playfully.
-
Marina Bay Street Circuit—October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)
“I can’t believe someone’s rocking your boat,” Lissie yelps, clutching onto your hand desperately. “This is monumental.” A teasing giggle. “We should definitely document this.”
As soon as she pulls out her phone, you flip her off. “And this, my dear, dear friend, is why I’ve been keeping this a secret.” She zooms in as you laugh, brushing her away. “Quit!”
The British girl groans, slipping it into her back pocket, then wiggles her thick brows. “Can I guess who it is?”
“No.”
“It’ll be fun!”
You spin around. “No, Lissie—no.”
“Nepo-Baby?”
Flustered, you twirl your necklace and hum. “They all are.”
“Fucking hell. So how will I know which one?”
A mocking laugh. “Oh, you’ll know.”
The brunette stays wondering despite being in the middle of telling her story from last week at the pub. She traces back to every possible driver, but they’re all natural flirts, so fuck that, how would she ever even be able to guess that—
“Oh my—it’s him!” She gasps with hawk eyes as she watches you two keep a careful distance from one another, as if temptation burns within the gap. Lissie lets out a delirious laugh as she turns to Will, who is still rather focused on his task. “I, um, will be right back!”
Wearing a goofy smile, you make your way back to the pen, but squeal when a firm grip wraps around your waist, tugging you into a cramped bathroom. You cringe at the suffocated smell. On the other hand, Lissie jumps from corner to corner. “How did I not notice? I mean, shit, you’re eyes—they’re huge!”
You frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
With a toothy grin, she pokes your ribs. “It means I know who it is.”
Your heart stops, then bite the inside of your cheek, feigning indifference. “We’re just getting to know each other, but he’s really kind, and I…I really like him.”
“Oh, I bet you do,” she whispers in a seductive manner, jeweled hands slapping your ass. You chuckle, opening the door, and turning back. “You get lost in his eyes, don’t you? Heard that could happen.” A swoon. “So what? Are they like the ocean? Like a blueberry Laffy Taffy?”
“Hm. No. More like green apple.”
She halts, mid-shimmy. “What do you mean green? His eyes are blue. And I would know—they scare me half of the time.”
“What are you talking about? Charles’ eyes are green.” The brunette gapes, mouth hung wide open as she pushes herself to speak, but can’t find the strength. You knit your brows, neat and high. “I told you not to scroll through your phone at three a.m. anymore. See? Jet lag is catching up to you.”
-
Autódromo José Carlos Pace—November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)
“I’m just looking out for you.”
“Yeah, I know.” Tired eyes squint over at the blue waves, then at the kids who build sandcastles. 
She sighs, propping herself to face you with a sorrowful smile. “It’s okay to be confused about your feelings.”
“You don’t have to sugarcoat it, I know its as bad as it sounds.” You raise your straw onto your plump lips, sucking. “But they’re just so different from one another. I mean, Charles makes me feel giddy. Like really giddy. It’s nauseating. He’s sweet, and caring, and he's snappy but it’s endearing.” A soft smile and dreamy eyes. “He even helps with my notes.”
“But Max…he’s hot tempered. It drives me nuts. He never asks for help and always hides behind some brick wall. It isn’t like him to show me that he’s interested in getting to know me, but…” Cries ring through the hot air as a wave washes the sandcastle. “I want to get to know him. The real him.”
Lissie’s lips turn downwards at your broken tone. You act uninterested, but she knows it just for show, and that might be the worst torture of all. 
She bumps your head with her shoulder, softly, and you instantly pout. “You’ll know what to do, babe. But if we’re being realistic here, Charles won’t wait forever.” Pause. “And Max isn’t the kind to grovel for anything other than podiums.”
-
Bahrain International Circuit—March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)
“Heads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.”
Charles lets out a heavy sigh, shoulders drooping as he strolls away. You pick and choose emails to respond to before leaning against one leg, typing away fiercely. You even have time to get back to your sister who begs for a souvenir. Any, she adds with a thousand smiley faces. 
“Working hard already? The season’s barely begun.” Your breath catches so sharply that it hurts your throat for a second. His voice is somehow deeper, but it could be because you haven’t seen or heard from him in about forever. Max steps closer. “H-how was your summer break?”
Your berry lips open, then close, then repeat. It’s embarrassing. “Never bad to get ahead, and I—had a good one. Much needed.” He nods attentively. “You look—” You stop before admitting. “Healthy. You look really healthy”
A booming chuckle. “Thanks. You look really healthy, too.”
Blue eyes linger for a second too long and that fills you up with unwanted adrenaline. “Why are you here?” Pink expands through your cheekbones as you grimace. “I mean—here.” You point at the tiny tent as if it weren’t obvious what you were referring to. “Here, here.”
The Dutchman’s lips dance, fondly. “Well I was walking by, saw you, and wanted to say hi.” He looks around with a subtle frown. “Is now a bad time?”
“Well—”
“Mate,” a sweet accent rings through the air as you screw your eyes shut. Max turns to face Charles with a slow grin. The Monegasque tilts his head in greeting, hands occupied with your beverage and his. “How have you been?”
“So, so. Yourself?”
“Good. Refreshed.” 
“For me?” he jokes. The brunette chuckles, raising the coffee cups with bright orbs. “Lazy Carlos, always sending you, right?”
The Ferrari driver shakes his head, curls following, then hands it to you. You hesitantly take it from him as you avoid eye contact. “Thank you, Charles.”
His smile widens, pecking your lips. “Still don’t think you should drink it on a daily basis, but hey, you’re welcome.”
Max blinks. “W-when did this happen?”
The green eyed boy hums, lips twisting against his straw. “Over break.”
“Oh.” Gaze slips over to where you bite your cheek. “You spent it in Monaco?”
A harsh tick. “Yes.” With an open mouth, he nods, like a muppet. You purse your lips, facing your boyfriend with pleading eyes. “Do you want to start making your way over? I don’t want Carlos to say anything about being late. You know how he is.”
Charles snickers, then intertwines his fingers through yours. “See you on track?”
The RedBull driver released a low breath, cracking a smile that looked more like a snarl. And while Charles doesn’t notice it, you do. Of course you do.
“See you on track.”
-
Miami International Autodrome—May 7, 2023
“Then why did you do it?” she whispers. The judgment and confusion that radiates off of Lissie is enough for you to grow gray. She rolls her tongue. “You can’t be doing stuff like this anymore, you have a boyfriend.” Her eyes screw shut, then snap open. “He adores the ground you walk on, are you insane?”
Tears well up at her truthful words. They sting all at once, and you carelessly crumble as your numb lips start to wobble. “Lissie—”
“No. Just—stop. Stop talking.” Max raises his eyebrows at the journalist and her sternness, but feels bad as you inch back, heels clicking. She huffs, pacing the hall. When she comes to a stop, she glares at the Dutchman. “How could you do this, too?”
“I never meant any harm—”
“Bullshit! Both of you are so stupid, it’s worrisome.” Shame fills your veins as you look down, pinching your undergarment as some coping mechanism. The British girl sighs. “You have to tell him.”
“No.”
“What do you mean no? He deserves to know.”
Decreasing the gap between you two, you sniffle, shaky hands clutching harder. “It’s going to kill him, Lissie. I can’t do that.”
And you can tell she’s running through her options because she’s your best friend. And above all, you were hers. With hesitance, she nods. “This has to end.”
You nod, desperately. “That’s it. We’re done.”
-
Circuit de Monaco—May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)
“You’ve been a bit uptight. Could it be Charles that’s making you feel that way?”
“No. Don’t even try and blame it on him.”
He pinches your nipple, then licks your humid skin. You whine at the sensation. “You’re not getting anything in return for lying. It’s pathetic.”
You hiss when your climax tempts to fall. “What's the lie?”
“That you love him.”
“I do love him—”
He groans into your neck. “You sound so pretty.” A sloppy thrust. “When you choke around my cock, my spit, my cum.” Your eyes roll back when he pushes against your g-spot at a different angle. “Admit it, you’ve always enjoyed it.”
“You’re sick."
“Maybe, but you’re well worth it.” 
You clench around his length and he hisses like a snake. In pain. In lust. Doesn’t matter. “You’re a shitty friend—”
Jaw clenches. “You’re a shitty girlfriend.” When you cry out in pleasure, he smirks. “Fine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?” 
“Maybe, but who cares?” 
And there's nothing left for him to do, simply smiling down at you like the Cheshire Cat, somehow scarier than The Joker. If not more. 
-
Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)
“Right, but we’re not talking about Lissie. Mate, you can’t…you know you can’t.” Daniel grimaces. “She’s taken.”
“I know,” Max stutters. “Who do you take me for?”
The Australian is easy to tell when he laughs genuinely, but even the RedBull driver can spot the difference to the one exiting his mouth right now. “You think she’s pretty—that’s all.”
“That’s all,” he confirms. 
“And that’s not a weird thing to admit because she is a pretty girl,” the brunette tries to help as Max nods happily. 
“Exactly.” A pause. “You get it.”
Daniel brings the blunt up to his mouth, taking a hit, then blows out. “Y-yeah…because it’d be bad if you liked her, liked her.” 
“I know that. I-I-I was never going to—yeah.” His heart pounds fast against his ribs when you giggle, pecking Charles’s neck, all while conversing with Lissie, Kika, and Pierre. He directs his attention back to the Australian and lets out a raw laugh. 
“I wouldn’t be that stupid.”
-
“You’re a bad influence.”
“Why?”
“Because it would never work out.”
“And why not? You’re giving up too eas—oh.” In an instant, his brown eyes follow yours, and it makes his heart drop. Because it’s not Charles that you’ve suddenly realized that you love, but Max. “You can’t…” Somewhere close by, Pierre yells, cheering with a group of older ladies as Kika glares, shaking her head. He inches closer. “You can’t do that to Charles. He loves you.”
“And I love him,” you announce, brushing your hair back. Timidly, you peek over at him. “I’m not a saint, I know that, but I would appreciate it if we kept this between us.” A sore chuckle. “W-what matters is that I choose Charles. He’s the love of my life.”
And Daniel knows he probably shouldn’t agree to any of this, and yet, he finds himself nodding, curls bouncing. “Just between us.”
You smile gently, going in for another sip before laughing at the blunt that sticks inside. 
 “Beer’s ass, by the way.”
-
Circuit Zandvoort—August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)
 “I love you. Y-you weren’t some fuck buddy to me…you’ve always been more than that. And…I hate that too.”
“I love you, too. And it’s because I love you that I know what comes after this.”
“What would that be?”
“Nothing.”
He flinches. “I-it doesn’t have to be that way. You could lea—”
You sigh, pulling your dress up as he zip his race suit. “I can’t leave him, Max. It’s not that easy.”
He pants, blue eyes tracing your face anxiously. “A-and why not? Why can’t it be that easy?”
A cruel laugh wiggles up your throat as you dig your nails into your palm. “Because I’m engaged!”
He ricochets with a scoff. “Oh, what? Now you suddenly care about not being called a cheater?” You look away and he chuckles. “Because that’s what you are—a fucking cheater.”
Your face patches into a shade of pink as you breathe heavily, refusing to let the tears fall. “And what does that make you?”
“I am not a cheater.”
You snarl. “No, but you’re a God awful friend.”
He steps back, large hand running against his lips, drying them out, getting rid of your saliva. “You’re just—you know what? Fuck you.”
You gasp. “No. Fuck you.”
Max rolls his blue eyes, finally reaching his breaking point as he pushes you against the wall to his motorhome. “You’re scared, aren’t you? Of realizing what we actually are.”
Heavy pants. Orbs flicker down to his rosy lips. He almost smiles. “What are we? A cheater and a bad friend?”
“No. A villain and their accomplice.” That seems to do it. A strong tide takes over as you sob against his grip. And it doesn’t hurt, it’s not tight. It’s only secure. He continues with a dark look swirling his orbs. “You know, you were always the first one to point out someone as a bad person, when in reality, it's you.”
“Okay, stop—”
“And I’m not innocent either—I’m well aware—but I’m not the one with a ring around their finger.”
“Stop!” you yell, pushing him away harshly. It should feel foreign, the fury and the shame, but that’s all you seem to know these days. Or ever since you met him. “You’re right. We’re two rotten apples, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, but can you blame me? You’re fucking with my head, Max!”
He softens, and for a moment, its pure silence, other than your tiny cries. Licking his lips, he pats his thigh. “You already know I’m wrongfully in love with you. I just actually thought I stood a chance. That it would be me.”
“Max…”
He winces in pain with how sweet your voice sounds pronouncing his name. It’s always been that way. When you first interviewed him a year ago, to when you first kissed him back and gasped his name. But it only got dirtier and dirtier throughout the course of time. 
“Be honest with me, please.” Bloodshot eyes look up at him. “Is he your safest option? Is that what this is?”
And with one final, tormented look, you open your lips to breathe out. 
“He’s someone I could envision a future with, Max.” A beat. “And you’re just a footnote.”
-
“Voilá!” Charles cheers as he claps loudly against your ear. You yelp at the sudden sound all while trying to reach for his hands to stop his movements. He grins, deep dimples imprinting like feet on sand. “That was beautiful, really, it really was.”
Rubbing your ass against his bulge is the only way you think you can get him to shut up, and he does, immediately letting out a strained chuckle. Smiling sweetly at your friends, you shrug. “I had my doubts, Pierre, but this was pretty cute. Thank you.”
The Frenchman gloats, clicking his fingers. I told you, I told you they’d like it! Your fiancé kisses your cheek. “That’s why I chose him.” A playful frown. “You see, mon amour? You never hold any faith in my decisions.”
Rolling your eyes, you stick your pink tongue out at him. “I still think you should have chosen one of your brothers.” A stern look. “Like Lorenzo—wasn’t he the one that helped you buy the ring?”
“Yes, but that would have been unfair to Arthur. He would’ve felt left out.”
“Arthur’s too distracted trying to figure out the difference between left and right!” The Monegasque tosses his head back and you admire with a soft glow. “I lo—”
“Wait,” Carlos hollers, deep accent ringing. You and Charles turn, bubble bursting. “We all went around sharing but Max.”
“Yeah,” Lily ponders, fingers tracing her lips. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Pierre hums. “Mate?”
Max blinks, shaking his head. “Ah, it’s alright. We’ve heard enough, don’t you think?” His joke is meant to be easy going, but it comes out dry, and even to this day, you can notice it. Licking your already glossed lips, you flip your gaze to Lissie and Daniel who share the same worried expression.
Because Lissie was your best friend. She would carry your secret to the grave.
Because Daniel was Max’s best friend. He would carry his secret to the grave.
But the Dutchman himself didn't care. He honestly felt like he had nothing else to lose.
“Okay then,” he whispers, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans. He slightly tilts his head to the open sky, as if wondering when it would swallow him whole. He was secretly hoping it would. Beady, excited, and petrified eyes stare back at him as he smiles awkwardly. “I…”
“He doesn’t want to,” you declare, twisting to signal the Frenchman. “If he doesn’t want to, then he doesn’t have to say anything, it’s fine.”
“No.” Blue eyes darken as he places his drink down onto the wooden table. “I want y—” He bites his tongue, immediately tasting metallic. “I want to.”
“Let him,” Charles says, chuckling softly. “Don’t kill his stride.”
So, with neat brown drawn together, clammy fingers playing with your silver band, you sit back down. Like a force of nature, the Monegasque hugs you from behind. You gulp, leaning the back of your head against his shoulder. 
“I think it’s crazy how one minor decision can change absolutely fucking everything.” 
“Oh shit,” Lissie and Daniel mutter next to each other, exchanging the blunt back and forth. 
Your face twists up like a wrinkled shirt. “If you’re not going to say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” he instantly shoots back, but feverishly deflates when Charles furrows his dark brows like some Doberman. Astonished at his cold tone, you blink, lashes fluttering like a notebook. He almost swoons at the sight, but amazingly holds back. 
“If you hadn’t taken Pierre’s advice and apologized to Charles, then we wouldn't be here. If you hadn’t spent summer break with him, then we wouldn’t be here. If you hadn't fallen in love, then we wouldn’t be here.” He swallows. “It’s the little things.”
“And, um...what makes a relationship work out is the commitment. If one person commits and the other doesn’t then it won’t ever work out, but you two…” You nibble on your bottom lip harshly, holding your breath as he looks into your bright eyes. He releases a forced chuckle, as if it would help get rid of his splintered heart. “You two chose each other, so…cheers to that.”
“Wow,” Charles hums, blankly. “That was surprisingly heartfelt…” A sheepish grin. “Thank you, mate.”
It’s as if he’s suddenly admitting defeat to someone who didn’t know they had him as an opponent to begin with; the way he throws the peony at the Monegasque, who catches it with ease. “Don’t mention it.” 
So, as Max sits alone, with no date, he begins to wonder that maybe—just maybe—you were right all along. 
He gave his speech last.
He was the footnote.
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livelaughlovesubs · 2 days
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Nini I want to fuck a demon boy so bad I can't. I'm so sleep deprived and this is the only thing on my mind. The idea of this powerful demon who's not used to being challenged, just ending up ass up face down on the floor, bed WHEREVER. It's not important. Ending up like that is just peak. Also I like to think they'd have sensitive tails. So. Like. I totally.
Wanna make them fuck themselves with their own tail. I think that'd be great. I think it would be awesome.
I want them to get so flustered at the idea of doing it, but do it anyway just coz I told them to. I can almost imagine them finding their own prostate with their tail, and really they can't decide which sensation to focus on. Feeling themselves clench around their own tail, or the way the slightly pointed end slams into their prostate. And bonus points if they cum and you overstim them by grabbing their tail and fucking them so much harder than they could themselves. Hooray, now they've got
your hand around their already much too sensitive tail
said sensitive tail is being slammed into their ass
it's gotta feel so good, they'd probably be so tight around themselves
your hand is gonna slip a few times, which is gonna end up in stroking their tail, which has got to feel like heaven for them
not to forget that you're thrusting their tails directly onto their prostate without letting them breathe
I just. I don't know. I think they'd look so pretty, flushed and begging to stop, even though it's them that keeps weakly trying to thrust their tail back into themselves. Also, they'd look so pathetic, sobbing from the overstimulation. I'm a sucker for tears trailing down their faces, eyes red and a little puffy. It'd almost make you wanna be nice to them. Almost.
But yknow, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. And sometimes what a girl's gotta do is fuck a demon stupid with their own tail. (I don't have the same way with words as some people, but like do you see the vision)
~a sleep deprived,🧁anon
You are so smart holy shit. You don’t give yourself enough credit. Fucking a demon with their own tail? Why didn’t I think of something as great as this??! Lemme write down my thoughts for a sec- (btw I thought you are like, very religious?)
Dom!reader x sub!character
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You had a long day behind you, and there was nothing sweeter than the thought of finally getting some sleep. All you wanted was to have a good rest, but to your demise you woke up in the middle of the night with something heavy on top of you. “Ops, I didn’t mean to wake you up. Oh well this will do too.” What the hell? It was a fucking person?? First thing you did was push him off of you and turning on the lights, then you thought this was some kind of weird joke. He had two horns growing out of his forehead, as well as a super long tail with a heart shaped tip. Not to mention the pink, glowing tattoo on his pelvis. When he opened his mouth again, you thought you didn’t hear right. “I’m an incubus, pleasant to meet you~ now let me feast on you, pretty please?”
An incubus, so, in other words a demon. What in the- never mind. He said he wanted to feast on you? Heck no, he woke you up in the middle of the night and is expecting you to have the energy to fuck him? As soon as he got up to try make a move on you, you flipped him over and tangled your hand in his hair, then pressed his face into your pillow. “If you are that desperate do it yourself.” Of course that little slut was into that.
He reached for his dick, but you slapped his hand away and instead grabbed his tail. “MhMngh- aaAAHhnn~!” A surprised yet blissful moan escaped him, face all red as lust fills their already sinful body. Anticipation swelling inside them at the thought of what you might do with them. That’s when they felt their own tail poking against their butt… wait wha? In the mean time you stroked it gently while whispering, “I want to watch you fuck yourself, who knows, I might reward you afterwards.” Suddenly all their previous confidence vanished as embarrassment took over. With their own tail..?? How did you even get that idea! Not even something as perverted as them had such outrageous ideas..!
In the end they could only obey without protesting, trusting their already super sensitive tail into their tight, wet hole. Each time they accidentally hit their prostate, they’d yelp and whimpers. Pretty tears are already rolling down their even prettier faces. Eyes half lidded as they whine, “mhm! Ah-ahhHh.. nghHnn~!!” All while their poor, useless dick is twitching around on its own, making a mess everywhere <3
Gojo, Sukuna, Dazai, Fyodor, Nikolai, jouno, Scaramouch, Kaeya, lyney, Ayato, Aventurine, Sampo, Jing Yuan (?), Douma - your favourites
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edenesth · 3 days
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TWTHH Spinoff: Love to Hate You [2]
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Pairing: royal secretary!San x female scholar!reader
AU: historical au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 10.7k 🤡
Summary: San prided himself on his knack for building easy connections with women, viewing himself as a trusted ally for the opposite gender. Thanks to his deep bonds with his mother and sister, he possessed keen insights into the female mindset. Never did he imagine facing the ire of a woman, until he encountered a resolute female scholar with a strong dislike towards men.
A/N: I'd recommend listening to Laufey's Valentine while reading this, the song is quite perfect for this spinoff.
Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist
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"Now, tell me, why were you crying?" you inquired, halting at the doorway of your house, careful to shield your mother from the conversation. You understood that she would only blame herself if she knew he was upset, despite none of it being her fault. Deep down, you knew she carried the burden of not being able to protect her children, always feeling like an inadequate mother.
Siwoo shook his head, "It's nothing, noona. I just... I was just overwhelmed with all the schoolwork on my first day. But don't worry about me, I feel much better after letting it all out," he reassured, attempting to alleviate your concerns. Yet, you couldn't fully accept his explanation. While a part of you ached to think he might have been bullied by his classmates, as you had feared, another part of you swelled with pride at his resilience.
That's my boy.
"Is that so? Well, come on then, dinner might be ready," you responded, and he brightened at the mention of food. "Dinner sounds good, I'm starving! Mother, we're home!" he called out excitedly, darting into your modest abode almost immediately.
"How was school, Siwoo?" your mother asked, her fingers smoothing down his unruly hair as he dug into his meal with gusto. Siwoo grinned and nodded. "It was okay! Master Lee looked after me really well, just like noona said he would!" Your mother smiled warmly and wiped a stray bit of food from his cheek. "That's good to hear."
You couldn't help but smile at their exchange, though you sensed Siwoo's words were meant to reassure your mother more than convey his true feelings. While Master Lee might have looked after him in their presence, you knew all too well the dynamics of school life and the possibility of bullying when no adults were around. Unfortunately, he would have to learn to navigate those challenges, just as you had.
Finishing your meal, you tousled your brother's hair. "So, what did that man from earlier say to you?" Your mother raised a curious eyebrow. "Man? What man?" Siwoo perked up. "Oh, that kind hyung-nim! He was just making sure I was okay."
You scoffed. "Kind? You don't even know him. People can seem nice but have hidden motives. Don't trust too easily, or he might want something from you." Turning to your mother, you elaborated, "It's His Majesty's royal secretary. We had an unpleasant encounter at the palace. I had hoped never to see him again, but somehow he was at Siwoo's school when I went to pick him up. How many coincidences can there be? I'm certain he's up to something. So, you," you directed a stern look at your brother. "Don't entertain him if he shows up again, okay?"
Siwoo nodded reluctantly, his expression turning sullen. Your mother shook her head. "Or perhaps he's genuinely nice...? He's an important figure, after all. You shouldn't make an enemy out of him, dear. I worry for you." You offered her a reassuring smile. "I'll handle it, mother. Don't worry about me."
Later that night, as you lay in bed, the soft breathing of your brother beside you with a comforting rhythm, you couldn't help but feel a pang of bittersweet emotion. Siwoo, once the tiny bundle you cradled in your arms, had grown so quickly before your eyes. Memories of his infancy flooded your mind, the moments when you'd rocked him to sleep and comforted his tears.
Now, here he was, trying to shield his own emotions from you, not wanting to burden you with his struggles. Your heart swelled with both pride and a tinge of sadness as you gently stroked his head, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on his forehead. How you wished he could remain your precious little brother forever, sheltered from life's harsh realities.
Yet, another part of you longed for him to mature, to become the pillar of strength this family needed. You yearned for the day when he would stand beside you as a protector, capable of shouldering the burdens that weighed heavily on your shoulders.
"Sweet dreams, little one," you whispered softly, your voice barely a whisper in the darkness. With a sigh, you closed your eyes, letting the tranquillity of the night envelop you as you drifted into slumber, your dreams filled with hopes for the future.
The next day unfolded much like the one before, with the familiar routine of dropping Siwoo off at school. Kneeling beside him, you tenderly adjusted his hanbok and smoothed down his hair, your actions a comforting ritual between siblings.
"Well, I have no new advice for you today, except to stay strong and not let the words of others affect you. Remember, they're just words, and you can choose not to let them bother you," you imparted, noticing the flicker of surprise in his eyes, as if he had been caught keeping secrets from you. With a warm smile, you gently pinched his cheeks to alleviate any worries he might have.
"Now, go on and get in there. And no causing trouble!" you teased, prompting a playful protest from Siwoo as he swatted your hands away and stuck out his tongue. "Bye, noona! See you later!" he called out cheerfully as he headed off to join his classmates.
As you watched him go, a soft smile lingered on your lips, filled with both pride and a touch of wistfulness.
He'll be fine; we've been over this.
You proceeded towards your educational institution to resume your own studies, putting aside worries about your brother for the moment. As you arrived at the entrance, you took a deep breath to ready yourself before entering, clutching your books tightly to your chest.
"Well, well, look who decided to grace us with her presence. Miss Smarty Pants finally showed up. Heard she even resorted to borrowing books from the royal library," Namgil, the scholar with the wealthiest father and your longtime tormentor, remarked as he annoyingly strolled alongside you, trailed by his group of cronies. One of them chimed in with a smirk, "Poor thing can't even afford her own books. Maybe if she catches the eye of some high-ranking officials in the palace, she won't need to study so hard at all."
Maintaining a neutral expression, you continued walking towards the foyer, where you could begin your studies undisturbed with the presence of teachers. Despite the taunting remarks being a regular occurrence during your journey from the outside to the inside of the institution, you had grown accustomed to them.
Reaching the foyer, you pivoted to face the group with a wide, sarcastic grin. "Well, boys, have you had your fill? If we're done wasting precious time trying to bring others down to boost our own fragile egos, maybe we should focus on our studies. After all, if we want to avoid squandering dear old daddy's money, we'll need to graduate. Time's ticking, gentlemen. Are we going to remain stuck in this childish behaviour forever?"
The satisfaction was palpable as you flashed a victorious smile and turned to stride into the foyer, leaving them no room for a rebuttal as a teacher emerged to greet the group. They hastily composed themselves, offering respectful bows and pretending as though nothing had happened.
Fools, you thought to yourself. This was precisely why you harboured such disdain for men. They were simplistic creatures, falling into one of two categories. The first, like Namgil and his cronies, were openly mean-spirited, condescending, and misogynistic. The second, exemplified by Royal Secretary Choi, was the cunning, duplicitous types who sought to earn your trust through false kindness before exploiting you. In the end, they were all cut from the same cloth.
At the end of the session, following a quiz intended to assess everyone's preparedness for the final examination, you unsurprisingly emerged as the top scorer once again. The teacher's announcement was met with the usual mixture of reactions, but your attention was drawn to his subsequent remarks.
"Miss Moon, once again, you've secured the top spot. Namgil, while second place may seem like an achievement, you should feel nothing but shame. All of you should. It's unacceptable to be outperformed by a woman. Study harder; I expect to see a different outcome in the next quiz."
You shook your head in disbelief at the teacher's words, seething inwardly at his ingrained bias. The implication that a woman should not surpass men in intellect spoke volumes about his archaic mentality. You were tired of being spoken about as if you weren't in the room, tired of the inherent sexism that permeated every aspect of your academic life. Graduation couldn't come soon enough; you were determined to prove these narrow-minded individuals wrong.
I'll show you morons.
"Oh boy, I know that look," Haneul remarked, shaking her head with a disapproving sigh as San emerged from his room the next day. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, his usual enthusiasm and determination shone through. She suspected her discouraging words from the previous evening had backfired, knowing her brother was just an optimistic idiot like that.
He scoffed, "What do you know? Go home already, noona. Your husband might start to worry if you keep visiting so often."
With a smirk, she lightly whacked him on the head. "I'm leaving today, don't you worry. But don't say I didn't warn you when whatever silly plan you might have ends up falling through. You men just love learning things the hard way, don't you? Let her be, Sannie."
"Yeah, yeah. Safe travels. I'll catch you later."
Haneul rolled her eyes in defeat. "Fine, fine. Send me away like I'm a nuisance. You should learn something from little Siwoo."
Turning back with a sarcastic grin, the royal secretary teased, "If you say so... love you, noona!" and blew her exaggerated kisses, earning a mockingly disgusted reaction. "Yuck! Save that for your future wife, gross!" she exclaimed, pretending to gag.
San strode through the palace corridors with newfound determination, his mind buzzing with plans and possibilities. He greeted the palace staff with a bright smile and a confident demeanour, earning curious glances from those he passed.
As he approached the royal study, he couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. Today was the day he would begin executing his plan, the day he would show Scholar Moon that he was different from the rest, that he was sincere in his intentions.
Entering the king's presence, San found himself greeted with the warm smile of His Majesty. The elderly man's eyes twinkled with amusement as he observed his secretary's energy.
"You seem quite cheerful today, Royal Secretary Choi. Anything exciting happening in your life?" the king inquired with a chuckle as their daily meeting concluded.
San's grin widened, his heart racing with anticipation. "I suppose so, Your Majesty. I won't say more until I see positive results," he replied cryptically, unknowingly leaving the king to interpret his words as he wished. Little did the fool know, his vague response led His Majesty to believe he was referring to romantic pursuits.
The king's face lit up. "Oh, I can't wait to hear the good news. Best of luck, my boy. That's all for today. Carry on with your tasks," he said with a playful wink, dismissing San with a clap of his hands.
Secretary Choi bowed deeply, feeling grateful. "Thank you, Your Majesty!" he exclaimed before leaving the royal study, his mind already buzzing with plans to win over the female scholar.
He made his way through the library, exchanging nods with a few scholars absorbed in their studies. As he searched the aisles, hope waned with each passing moment. Nearly ready to give up, he reluctantly admitted to himself that you might not be there today. With a resigned sigh, he turned to leave.
But as he moved to exit, a flash of movement caught his eye. Turning back, he was stunned to see you tucked away in a quiet corner, fast asleep amidst a pile of borrowed books. A wave of tenderness washed over him at the sight of your peaceful form, and he approached you with silent steps, not wanting to disturb your rest.
He couldn't resist the urge to approach and observe you, struck by how serene and angelic you appeared in your slumber, a stark contrast to your usual tough and guarded demeanour. Seeing the sunlight streaming in from the nearby window and casting a glare on your face, he settled into the seat opposite you. With a gentle touch, he lifted his hand to shield you from the brightness, intent on preserving your peaceful rest.
Looking down at you like this, perhaps it was his innate sense of chivalry, but it stirred an intense urge to protect you, to help shoulder some of the burdens you must be carrying on those delicate shoulders of yours. He couldn't shake the feeling of admiration mingled with empathy as he watched you, lost in tranquil slumber amidst the chaos of the world around you. With a soft sigh, he longed to offer you more than just protection from the sun's glare, yearning to provide solace and support in any way possible.
As he watched you stir, letting out a small groan before readjusting your head and settling back into sleep, he felt a slight panic. However, his worry melted away when he realised you were merely shifting in your slumber. A soft sigh escaped him, accompanied by a gentle smile and a flutter in his heart at how endearing you looked.
Gosh, she looks adorable.
Resting his head on his palm, he continued to observe, noting the subtle signs of exhaustion etched across your beautiful face. Unlike other girls or women who likely had access to luxurious skincare products or ample rest to maintain their beauty, it was evident that any resources you had were dedicated to supporting your family and pursuing your studies. His gaze drifted to your hands, noticing the dry skin, blunt nails and paper cuts, evidence of both physical labour and tireless studying.
Gazing at you, his mind wandered to the challenges and hardships you must have faced throughout your childhood, shaping you into the resilient and guarded person you are today. He pondered on the beliefs you held about men, likely influenced by your past experiences. Working in the palace, San was all too familiar with the despicable behaviour of some men, having witnessed their deceit and manipulation firsthand. He understood, perhaps more than most, your strong aversion and distrust of men.
Yet, in his heart, he believed that you hadn't met men like him and his friends—men of integrity and genuine kindness. Determined to prove to you that good men existed, he resolved to show you through his actions. He was determined to be the exception, to demonstrate that not all men were as duplicitous as those you had encountered before. And in that moment, as he watched over you, he silently vowed to be the beacon of goodness and sincerity that you deserved.
Lost in his contemplations, he was jolted back to reality when he felt your hand push his away. Startled, he blinked, realising that the sun he had been shielding you from was now obscured by clouds. Your voice, sharp and incredulous, pierced through his thoughts.
"What in the world do you think you're doing, Royal Secretary Choi?" you demanded, your tone laced with annoyance and curiosity.
Flustered and caught off guard by your abrupt interruption, San quickly cleared his throat and straightened in his seat, feeling the weight of your scrutiny upon him. He could only imagine how his actions must have appeared from your perspective: waking up to find an uninvited man seated across from you, hand raised in an attempt to shield you from the absent sun.
"I-I can explain," he stammered, scrambling to find the right words to justify his actions. "I was just trying to—"
But before he could finish his sentence, you cut him off with a sarcastic smile, your words dripping with disdain.
"Let me guess," you said, your tone biting. "You just wanted to help? I thought I made myself very clear yesterday, but it seems I might not have. In case you missed the point, I'll repeat it again: I don't need your help. Thank you very much."
With that, you gathered all the books in your arms and swiftly exited, leaving him feeling chastised and uncertain of how to proceed.
As he sat frozen in his seat, watching your retreating figure, the royal secretary couldn't help but admire your firm resolve. Instead of feeling discouraged by your rejection, he found himself respecting you even more for it. Your unwavering stance showed him that you weren't one to let someone into your life easily, and in a world where men could be deceitful and manipulative, that was a reassuring trait. He couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for you, even as he remained seated in the library, contemplating his next move.
Making your way out of the palace, your heart still raced from the encounter in the library as you clutched the stack of borrowed books close to your chest. Unbeknownst to Secretary Choi, you had been awake for some time, waiting to see what he would do, ready to catch him red-handed if he attempted anything untoward.
To your unpleasant surprise, you found that the glaring sun that had once been on your face was gone. Peeking through your lashes, you observed San going to great lengths to shield you from the brightness, even though he must have assumed you were still asleep. It was a small gesture, but one that spoke volumes about his character.
Even with his apparent kindness, you couldn't bring yourself to believe that he had done it without any ulterior motives. There had to be something he wanted from you; you were sure of it. You refused to let your guard down, you remained determined to stay wary of his intentions.
Despite your hopes that San would quit his efforts after the incident in the library, he proved to be annoyingly persistent. However, to your surprise, he no longer offered unsolicited help, seemingly aware that you had not asked for it. Instead, he chose a different approach to get closer to you.
Every day as you entered the palace, he greeted you with a bright smile and a friendly "good morning." You found his amiable demeanour irritating because it made it challenging for you to be rude to him when he was simply being a nice and sociable person. With no choice but to reciprocate his greetings, you returned them with a forced smile of your own, not wanting to appear impolite in front of other palace staff.
Today was no different, much to your dismay. Despite your multiple attempts to arrive either earlier or later than your usual time, he always seemed to be there. Deep down, you wanted to bluntly ask him if he had nothing better to do. Shouldn't a royal secretary be busy? Why was he always lingering around?
Approaching the entrance and spotting him, you couldn't help but slap a hand on your forehead in frustration. You tried to turn away, but he called out to you before you could make your escape.
"Scholar Moon! I see you're here early today. Good morning!" he exclaimed cheerfully.
You cursed under your breath and reluctantly turned back to feign a smile, bowing respectfully. "Indeed, I am... Good morning, Royal Secretary Choi," you replied through gritted teeth.
He beamed at you and gestured for you to join him. "Come, let us head in together!"
Letting out a sigh of disbelief, you put on your best fake smile and complied, knowing it wouldn't be in your best interest to be rude to someone of such high importance in front of other people. Damn it, you couldn't wait for the day to be over already.
Walking beside him, you sought a moment of tranquillity, but as expected, he initiated an unwanted conversation like always.
"How's Siwoo adjusting to school?" he asked, his tone overly chipper.
Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes, you briefly squeezed them shut before replying, "He's doing well. Thank you for asking."
His smile widened at your response. "That's great! I just hope he's feeling better than the last time I saw him. Poor boy was so upset."
You sighed, cutting him off before he could continue. "Yes, but he'll live—"
Before you could finish, a group of rushing court ladies surged around the corner. "Out of the way! Concubine Eom Heebin is giving birth!" Amidst the commotion, you were shoved aside, but a firm pair of arms caught you, guiding you to safety—San's arms.
You landed against his chest with a huff, and he peered down at you with wide eyes. "Careful there, watch your step! You alright?" His words lacked their usual formality, driven purely by instinct.
San gulped audibly, his gaze lingering on your features as if trying to memorise every detail. He marvelled at how beautiful you looked up close, relishing the sensation of holding you tightly against him. It felt strangely satisfying to shield you from danger, to have you vulnerable in his arms. There was an inexplicable desire within him to be the only one who knew how it felt to hold you like this.
Meanwhile, you felt a conflicting array of emotions swirling within you as you found yourself in his embrace. Despite your best efforts to maintain your dislike for him, you couldn't deny the unexpected sense of safety and comfort you felt in his arms. It unsettled you, this lack of disgust, and you hated how nice it felt, how it threatened to unravel the walls you had carefully constructed around your heart.
Realising your proximity, you blinked rapidly and pushed yourself away. "Y-yes, I'm fine. Thank you..." For once, you meant it.
Days passed, and you found yourself in a state of inner conflict whenever you were around him. Previously, you had to force yourself to maintain politeness and hide your disdain for him, but now, it was becoming increasingly difficult to be unpleasant.
You despised this newfound feeling of guilt he stirred within you, as if he was silently reproaching you for your past behaviour. Moreover, he continued to prove himself to be just as kind as everyone claimed, further complicating your emotions.
Hate brewed within you—not for the royal secretary as a person, but for the way he was challenging your beliefs about all men being alike. He made you start to doubt the certainties you once held dear, and you resented him for it. Most of all, you detested how he was making it difficult for you to maintain your animosity towards him.
Regardless of the swirling new emotions within you, one thing remained constant: your determination to avoid him at all costs. You were sick and tired of the conflicting feelings he stirred within you, and you knew that indulging in them would only serve as a distraction from your studies.
You needed to maintain your focus and drive, especially now when your responsibilities weighed heavily on your shoulders. The last thing you needed was to be sidetracked by unnecessary emotions brought about by a man, of all things.
But of course, life seemed determined to defy your efforts. Despite your best attempts to avoid him, it felt like he was everywhere you turned. With each passing day, you found yourself encountering him more frequently, almost as if he were purposely crossing your path.
The realisation was hard to swallow: you were seeing him more often than your own mother and younger brother combined. It was infuriating to admit, but no matter how hard you tried to evade him, he seemed to find a way to appear wherever you were.
As you finished up your studies and prepared to leave the palace, a sense of relief washed over you. Today had been the first in what felt like an eternity without a sighting of Royal Secretary Choi. Hope flickered in your heart as you packed up your belongings, eager to leave the palace behind and reunite with your little brother.
But just as you approached the main entrance, the sky darkened ominously. Thunder rumbled, and lightning streaked across the sky before a torrential downpour engulfed the area. "No, no, no, not now! Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" you muttered under your breath, feeling frustration bubbling up inside you.
With no umbrella to shield you from the rain, you hurried to seek refuge under the closest shelter you could find: the awning of a nearby building. The sudden change in weather dashed your hopes of a smooth departure, leaving you stranded and drenched.
The thought of Siwoo waiting for you added to your unease. You cursed your lack of preparation, knowing that he would now have to endure more time with his bullies. It was another setback in a day that had promised to be free of Choi San's presence.
Yep, I'm convinced god hates me.
While you sheltered under the awning, your gaze remained fixed on the entrance, torn between the desire to run out into the rain to your brother and the realisation that falling sick was not an option. Too many people depended on you—your mother, your brother, and all the women in need of your assistance. You couldn't afford to be unwell, not with so many responsibilities resting on your shoulders.
Lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice a figure approaching from behind until the raindrops abruptly ceased falling around you. Looking up, you were met with the sight of an umbrella being held over your head. Startled, you turned to see San standing beside you, concern etched on his features.
"Are you alright, my lady? Please allow me to escort you to your destination," he said, his voice gentle and sincere.
The royal secretary's surprise was evident when he realised it was you, causing him to stumble over his words in an attempt to explain himself. "O-oh! It's you, Scholar Moon! I swear I didn't realise it was you, I thought you were a palace staff or someone else! I mean, I wasn't trying to offer help when you didn't want it, or maybe I was..."
He paused, then continued, "But I promise, I'm not making any assumptions! I can leave if you want me to... I'll leave the umbrella with you, of course, because obviously little Siwoo is waiting for you. Sorry, I don't mean to ramble... I just— here you go." Without waiting for your response, he thrust the umbrella into your hand and hurried off into the rain, leaving you standing frozen in bewilderment, trying to comprehend the unexpected encounter.
As you stood there, still holding the umbrella he had left behind, you couldn't shake off the words he had said. They lingered in your mind, his voice echoing gently, making you question your own feelings. For the first time, you understood why women might find him charming. Despite your resolve to dislike him, you couldn't deny his physical attractiveness and his gentlemanly nature.
But as you thought about it further, a new emotion crept in—an unsettling realisation that his kindness wasn't reserved for you alone. He would be just as sincere and helpful to anyone in need. Suddenly, a twinge of jealousy stirred within you. Why did it bother you that he treated others with kindness? Why did you feel upset that you weren't the only one receiving his attention? What was wrong with you?
Confusion clouded your thoughts as you grappled with these unfamiliar feelings. You couldn't understand why it mattered to you whether he was nice to everyone or not. But the fact that it did matter left you feeling even more bewildered. What were these emotions, and why the hell were they stirring within you now?
Lord, I must be out of my damn mind.
In the days that followed, your annoyance with San returned, but this time it was for a new reason—one you stubbornly refused to acknowledge. Despite your efforts to keep your distance and maintain your walls around him, you found it increasingly difficult to do so. His presence seemed to linger in your mind, his gentle demeanour and persistent kindness chipping away at your defences.
Meanwhile, the royal secretary remained hopeful after his recent encounters with you. He noticed the subtle changes in your behaviour—the once sarcastic smiles and curt words slowly giving way to genuine attempts to interact with him. He knew your pride was likely the barrier keeping you from fully opening up to him, but he was determined to break through it.
Perhaps it was the sense of accomplishment he felt, but he found himself increasingly consumed by thoughts of you and the challenge of breaking down your barriers to earn your trust. Each day, he eagerly anticipated going to work, knowing he might catch a glimpse of your beautiful face. Lately, he noticed it revealing more than just anger and disdain—it showed hints of other emotions too. He longed to witness them all, to be the first and perhaps the only one to see them. He felt a swell of pride, both in himself and in your progress, even if you were unaware of it.
"You like her, don't you?" San's gaze snapped up to meet his mother's, his chewing momentarily halted as he raised a questioning brow. "What are you talking about, eomma?"
She grinned, gesturing towards the additional lunch box he had instructed the servants to prepare for work that day. "Oh, you mean Scholar Moon? I mean, yeah, I guess I do...? I like everyone," he responded with a cheerful beam. However, her expression shifted to one of knowingness as she crossed her arms over her chest. "That's not what I mean, you silly boy. You have feelings for her, don't you?"
He choked on his food in surprise at her assertion. "Huh? Wh-what makes you say that? You know about my mission to prove her prejudice wrong, that's all there is to it. I don't feel any differently about her than I do about any other lady."
With a knowing smirk, the elderly woman caused him to wince. It was the same sarcastic expression his sister always wore before delivering a harsh truth. "Oh yes, because you make a point to greet every female palace staff member every morning, ask about all their family members, never stop talking about them, and ensure to pack extra lunch for them all just like you do for Scholar Moon, isn't that right?"
As his mother's words settled in, a sudden revelation struck San like a bolt of lightning. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth that had been hidden from him until now. He couldn't pinpoint exactly when it had begun—perhaps it had lurked beneath the surface from the start, waiting for the right moment to surface.
He had been so preoccupied with proving to you that he was different, so focused on challenging your prejudices, that he hadn't stopped to consider his own feelings. What had started as a mission might have morphed into something more. The concern and care he felt for you went beyond mere kindness; it was a genuine desire to protect and support you.
Reflecting on the moments when you had occupied his thoughts—the incident in the library, the near-accident with the court ladies—he realised that his feelings ran deeper than he had admitted to himself. Even as he grappled with the conflict between wanting to take care of you and respecting your independence, he couldn't ignore the truth any longer. Choi San was a man with a lot of love to give, and he wasn't shy or ashamed to admit that he had developed feelings for you—feelings that transcended friendship or admiration. It was a realisation that both surprised and invigorated him, filling him with anticipation for what the future might hold.
But he wasn't stupid; he understood that acknowledging his feelings didn't equate to knowing yours or if you could ever reciprocate them. Despite this, he chose to find contentment in this understanding. He wouldn't expect anything from you in return. Your happiness would suffice to make him happy, even if it meant remaining mere acquaintances.
With this resolve, he bid his parents farewell before heading to work, his heart fluttering at the prospect of seeing you once more.
Later that afternoon, San strolled around the area where you often spent your lunch breaks. Spotting you in the secluded pavilion near the royal library, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. Instead of your usual packed lunch, you were nibbling on a meagre steamed bun. Approaching you with a grin, he greeted you.
"Good afternoon, Scholar Moon. I see you're having lunch as well," he greeted, and you nodded quickly, feeling self-conscious and embarrassed about your modest meal. Just as you were about to ask him what he wanted, he revealed the bag of lunchboxes he had been hiding behind his back.
"That's wonderful then. My family estate kitchen staff seemed to have made an extra set of lunch, and I was just wondering if maybe you would like to have it," he offered. You raised a sceptical eyebrow. "An extra set? That seems highly unlikely to happen."
He tried to maintain his composure despite being caught in a fib. "Fine. If you're not interested in it, I'm sure there are other palace staff who would enjoy it," he said, turning to leave. Panic surged within you as he started to walk away. "W-wait! I'll take it... please," you pleaded, reaching out to grasp his arm. With a satisfied nod, he settled down beside you.
That's what I thought.
As you opened the meticulously prepared lunchbox, a look of awe graced your features. The royal secretary chuckled at your adorable expression. He observed as you hesitated for a moment, glancing at him as if seeking approval before starting to eat. With a nod of encouragement, he joined in.
Little did you know, he had overheard some court ladies discussing the struggles faced by a female scholar, which could only be you, as you were the only one known. They recounted your struggles to afford essentials at home due to your brother's school fees and your own lack of income, all because of your dedication to your studies.
As you both began to eat, you didn't notice San biting his lip to hold back his laughter. Your eyes had widened and sparkled with innocent amazement at the flavours, a look he had never seen before. The sight made his heart flutter, confirming his feelings for you. He wanted to protect that innocence forever and be the only one to witness this endearing sight. He could easily picture spending time with you like this for life, and he knew he wouldn’t complain.
When you looked up and caught him staring, he quickly returned his gaze to his food. You blushed and checked your lips for any stray rice, wondering why he had been looking at you like that. Like a creep.
How annoying.
Relieved that there was nothing on your face, you continued eating. However, you furrowed your brows as you noticed the secretary picking at his food from the corner of your eye. Unable to contain your curiosity, you turned to see him pushing aside all the greens in his container. Raising an eyebrow, you asked, "Saving the best for last?"
He chortled, "Like hell I am."
Realising what was going on, you scoffed, "Seriously? The great Royal Secretary Choi doesn't eat his vegetables? Even my brother eats his. You should be ashamed of yourself."
He sputtered, clearly embarrassed, and you snickered at how flustered he appeared over your teasing. Glaring at you, he retorted, "Is that any way to talk to the kind samaritan who just treated you to lunch?"
You shrugged. "I'll treat anyone who doesn't eat their veggies the same way, with discrimination. If you won't eat them, give them here, you big baby."
He pouted, about to hand them over until you added, "Siwoo's going to be so disappointed when he hears about this. He looks up to you and thinks of you as his role model, you know." You gasped, realising you had revealed something you hadn't meant to share, but all your regret dissolved when you saw his reaction to your words.
San's jaw dropped, and he quickly snatched the greens back, stuffing his face with them. "There, I finished them. You happy now?!"
You couldn't help but burst into laughter. In moments like this, you wondered how wonderful it would be if all men were like him. You admired how his eyes crinkled as he joined in your laughter. He could be so annoyingly cute and likeable. Gosh, you hated it. You hated how warm he was making you feel, hated how good it felt.
As the two of you calmed down from your giggles, the smiles remained on your faces. You finished the last of your food, neatly wrapped the lunchbox back up in his bag, and handed it to him. "Thank you, Royal Secretary Choi," you said, your voice sincere.
His heart skipped a beat at your genuine gratitude. With a nod of acknowledgement, he reached out to take the bag from you. Both your breaths hitched when your fingertips brushed against each other. The unexpected contact sent a small, electric jolt through you both, causing you to momentarily lock eyes.
San's eyes softened, filled with an emotion you couldn't quite place. The world seemed to pause, and for a fleeting moment, the two of you were the only ones that existed. You could feel your pulse quickening, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin.
"You're welcome," he finally replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He took the bag, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary before pulling away.
You quickly looked down, trying to steady your racing heart. "I should get back to my studies," you said, standing up and smoothing out your clothes.
"Of course," he replied, standing up as well. "Take care, Scholar Moon."
With a final nod, you turned and walked away, feeling his gaze linger on your back. A small smile tugged at your lips as you wondered what it would be like if moments like these with him became a regular part of your life. You found your own thoughts baffling, as no man had ever made you feel such emotions before.
Could he possibly... be the only exception?
No, he could not.
You should have known better. Should have recognised the trouble he brought along despite his constant insistence on helping. Initially, you felt grateful for his frequent gestures, like bringing you lunch and accompanying you to pick up your brother from school during the rainy season, the three of you huddled under his umbrella—a sight that warmed your mother's heart.
For a while, it felt like being on Cloud 9. But in hindsight, you must have lost your mind to let him get so involved in your life. It seemed foolish to rely on him so much, to let him become so close to you and your family.
And inevitably, there were consequences.
You reached your breaking point when the bullying at your educational institution intensified. Rumours about you and the royal secretary spending time together spread like wildfire among your fellow scholars, leading to endless torment.
As you tried to leave the institution, hoping to find solace at home after enduring what felt like hours of torment, Namgil and his cronies blocked your path, their mocking laughter echoing around you like a cacophony of cruelty.
"Leaving so soon, Miss Smarty Pants? Off to see your beloved Royal Secretary Choi, I presume?" he jeered, his voice dripping with malice. "Who would've thought your success was all thanks to him? Must have made quite the deal to get him to treat you so well. Bet you're not so innocent anymore, huh?"
His words cut through you like knives, causing your steps to falter as you froze in place, the implications of his cruel insinuations hitting you like a ton of bricks. "Should've known," Namgil continued, his tone laced with venom. "All you women are good for is spreading your legs."
You felt a wave of humiliation wash over you, a burning rage rising up within you as you struggled to hold back tears. They had no idea what you had been through, the sacrifices you had made to get to where you were. But at that moment, all you could do was stand there, feeling utterly defenceless against their relentless cruelty.
Meanwhile, San couldn't shake off his growing concern for you. He hadn't caught sight of you all day, and his inquiries around the palace yielded no sightings of you either. The court ladies confirmed that you hadn't visited the palace at all, which only deepened his worry. You had never missed a day before, and the thought of you being sick or in trouble made his heart sink.
Leaving work that day, the extra lunch he had prepared for you still in his hands, he hurried over to your brother's school in hopes of finding you there. However, his heart sank further when he only found Siwoo waiting by the entrance as usual. The child's face lit up when he spotted the royal secretary.
"Hyung-nim! Did my noona send you here to pick me up today?" Siwoo asked eagerly. The royal secretary shook his head, his concern evident in his expression.
"No, Siwoo-yah. She hasn't been to the palace either. Do you know where her institution is?" San inquired. Your brother's expression turned worried, but he nodded.
"Yes, I do! Let's go find her!" Siwoo suggested, but San gently shook his head.
"No can do, you tell me where and I'll go. Your mother will worry if neither of you are home," San explained. The child reluctantly agreed, but not without making a request.
"Okay, but promise me you'll bring her back," Siwoo pleaded. The secretary gave him a reassuring smile and pinky promised him.
"Don't worry, I will."
As San approached your institution, relief washed over him when he spotted your familiar figure not too far from the main entrance. However, his relief quickly turned to concern when he noticed you weren't alone. Surrounding you were a group of male scholars, their expressions and body language indicating that the conversation was far from pleasant. His heart twisted uncomfortably at the sight of your wet eyes and defeated look. Were you being bullied?
With clenched fists, he stepped closer, his brows narrowing in anger as he overheard snippets of the conversation. It was clear that the group was making disparaging remarks about you. His blood boiled when he heard the leader of the gang suggesting that you had been selling your body in exchange for your success. How dare they?
These bastards.
While San understood that your previous encounters with men must have been unpleasant for you to harbour such a strong dislike for them, witnessing you being treated in such a manner was a first for him. It was no wonder you hated them so much; who could blame you? But he was here now, and he was determined to change that.
He stalked over, his towering and intimidating presence startling the scholars. "Are my ears deceiving me, or did I truly just hear such vile words coming from a scholar?" he demanded, his voice icy and authoritative. "Watch your words because rest assured, your headmaster will hear about this. Not only were you being misogynistic, but how dare you insinuate such despicable things about Scholar Moon? This woman has more integrity than all of you combined. She doesn't need any man's backing—not even mine—to get where she is today. She is fully capable of achieving that on her own, and I think you know that, given how your insecurity and jealousy are blatantly showing through your nasty actions."
The scholars' faces turned pale, their bravado evaporating in the face of the royal secretary's fury. He stepped closer, his fists clenched, ready to defend you from any further insults. The leader of the gang opened his mouth to retort but quickly thought better of it, swallowing his words and casting a nervous glance at his friends.
"L-let's go, guys," Namgil stuttered, bowing before scrambling away. They weren't stupid. This was His Majesty's royal secretary, and if he reported them to the king, they would face dire consequences. There was nothing to gain from angering him.
San turned his gaze to you, his eyes softening. "Are you okay?" he asked gently, his voice a stark contrast to the harsh tone he had just used.
Instead of a grateful nod like he had expected, you met him with a darkened expression. Taking deep breaths, you tried to hold back your tears and calm yourself down. When you remained silent, glaring at him, he sighed. "Was that too much? I—I'm sorry, I know you can defend yourself, but I just—"
You cut him off, speaking in a low voice, "This is all your fault, Choi San."
He froze, his heart clenching painfully at the last words he expected to hear from you. You continued, harshly wiping away stray tears with your sleeves, "If only you'd just leave me alone like I asked from the beginning… I've been bullied all my life, but the usual nonsense I could endure. Not once—never—had anyone ever implied something like that," you whispered the last part. "And it's all because of you. Haven't you done enough? If you truly want to help me, then please—god—please, just leave me alone."
With that, you walked out of the institution, leaving him reeling in shock and hurt at your words. This was not how he had imagined things would turn out.
San finally realised that maybe his sister had been right. If distancing himself would make you happier, he’d do it, even if it meant suffering from being away from you. From that day onwards, he would make sure to keep his distance, honouring your wish.
You went to your younger brother’s school that evening and were surprised to hear that he had already been picked up. Panicking, you rushed home and were relieved to see Siwoo safely at the entrance, waiting with your worried mother. He clung tightly to you as you stroked his hair.
"Who brought you home?" you asked softly.
He sniffled, "Sannie hyung-nim… he promised he’d bring you home, but he lied. You came home alone."
You sighed, holding the child closer as guilt slowly crept into your heart. "He didn’t lie, Siwoo-yah. He did come to me, but I was the one who left him."
Your mother watched you with concern, her eyes reflecting relief and confusion. She reached out, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "What happened, dear?"
You hesitated, the weight of the day's events pressing down on you. "I— I just... he won't bother us again, mother. I made sure of that."
Siwoo looked up at you, his eyes wide with innocence and confusion. "But why, noona? He was so nice to us."
Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you hugged your brother tighter. "It will protect us. It will make things easier."
You were aware that you were trying to convince yourself more than anyone else. But you would rather die than admit it. You were Scholar Moon, the first female scholar in Joseon, and you didn't need a man to survive. You never did, and you never would. Choi San was merely a hindrance, but he was now in the past. Things would finally return to normal. You would excel in your exams and fulfil your dreams. Everything would be fine.
Or would it really?
Days following that proved much harder than anticipated. The royal secretary had indeed left you alone, as you'd requested. While you should have been glad, a part of you felt irritated by his obedience. You resented that he hadn't fought harder, but you knew you had no one to blame but yourself. You felt difficult to deal with. Surely, a man as good as Choi San deserved someone better than you. He had gone above and beyond to help you for the past few months, yet all you gave him in return were harsh words you... likely didn't mean at all.
Wait, what even are these thoughts? None of that should matter; it's all in the past. You needed to focus on your studies.
With a massage of your temples, you attempted to reread the same sentence you had been struggling with for the past hour. However, endless thoughts of that stupid man kept resurfacing, haunting you and weighing heavy on your heart with an unpleasant feeling you wished would disappear. God, did you hate him. Why was he so annoying even when he wasn't around?
You hated how he consumed your thoughts.
Everywhere you turned in the palace, he lingered in your mind. Each time you picked up your brother, he intruded into your thoughts, and even passing by your educational institution's entrance reminded you of him. What was wrong with you? What had he done to you? You were fine before meeting him, and you would be fine now. You kept repeating this to yourself, but all resolve crumbled when you saw him approaching one morning in the palace. It was the first time seeing him since that day—the day you'd uttered those cruel words to him.
You froze, clutching your books tightly to your chest, bracing yourself for whatever words or actions he might deliver. However, your heart sank when he simply passed by with a respectful nod. Why did that sting so much? You had brought this upon yourself. The urge to chase after him was overwhelming, and you squeezed your eyes shut to suppress the longing.
Pull yourself together, this is for the best.
You didn't need him.
Or did you?
Why does it hurt so much?
The atmosphere between you and the royal secretary had shifted, turning awkward and strained. Everyone in the palace could sense the change, the tension that now defined your interactions—or rather, the lack thereof. The once easy camaraderie had vanished, replaced by uncomfortable silences and fleeting, cautious glances. It wasn't long before word reached Namgil, who seized the opportunity to make your life even more miserable. The bullying intensified, but you endured it all, determined to pass your final exam without incident.
Time flew by, even as you suffered.
You buried yourself in your studies, hoping to push him out of your mind. Every page you turned, every line you read, was an attempt to forget the way he made you feel. The palace corridors, once filled with the warmth of his ever-comforting presence, now echoed with your lonely footsteps and the quiet rustle of your books.
Days turned into weeks, and before you knew it, your final examination was approaching. The weight of the upcoming test pressed down on you, but it was a welcome distraction from the pain in your heart. You could still see him in the palace, still catch glimpses of his familiar figure in the distance, but the gap between you felt insurmountable.
On the eve of your exam, you found yourself in the palace library, surrounded by stacks of books and scrolls. The dim light of the lantern cast long shadows across the room, mirroring the shadows in your heart. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts.
Then, without warning, the door creaked open, and there he was. San, standing in the doorway, looking just as conflicted as you felt. Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, neither of you moved.
"Scholar Moon," he finally said, his voice low and hesitant. "I heard your final exam is tomorrow. I wanted to wish you luck."
You nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "Thank you, Royal Secretary Choi."
He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. "I know you asked me to leave you alone, but I just want you to know that I believe in you. You are more than capable of achieving your dreams."
Tears threatened to well up in your eyes, but you blinked them away. "I appreciate that," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
For a moment, it seemed like he might say more, but then he simply nodded and turned to leave. As the door closed behind him, you felt a pang of regret. You had to fight everything in you to resist running after him, holding onto him, telling him how much you regretted everything, how wrong you had been, how much you… missed him.
No, stop it.
You took a deep breath and returned to your books, knowing that tomorrow's exam was the key to your future. You had to stay focused. You had to succeed, even if it meant pushing aside the feelings you couldn't quite shake.
The next morning, your mother smoothed your robes as you prepared to leave for the palace where the final examination would take place. Her hands were gentle, but the pride in her eyes was unmistakable.
"This is it," she whispered, a soft smile on her face. "All your hard work will pay off today. You will finally be someone in this land. The first female scholar-official in Joseon."
You nodded, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. Today was the day you had worked so tirelessly for. Today, you would prove yourself.
"You look beautiful, noona!" Siwoo cheered, his excitement contagious.
You smiled down at your little brother, ruffling his hair. "Thank you, Siwoo-yah. I'll make you proud."
As you stepped outside, the morning sun casting a golden hue over the palace grounds, you felt a surge of determination. You wouldn't have time to think about a certain annoying man who had been invading your thoughts more than you cared to admit. You wouldn't let the memory of Choi San torment you more than Namgil and his friends ever could.
With each step towards the examination hall, you reminded yourself of your goals. You were Scholar Moon, the first female scholar in Joseon. You were about to make history.
As you entered the courtyard, the confident bounce in your step reflected the culmination of years of hard work and determination. You were oblivious to the devious grins Namgil and a few other scholars exchanged as their gazes followed your figure.
"There she is," Namgil sneered, nodding toward the bridge above the large pond that everyone would later cross to reach the examination hall. A wicked idea formed in his mind. "Remind me, boys. It would be impossible for someone with drenched clothes to participate in the final examination, is that correct?"
They snickered, immediately understanding his implication. "Yes, I think that is right."
You moved through the crowd, nodding to a few familiar faces, your mind already focused on the examination ahead. You had no idea that behind you, Namgil and his cronies were plotting to ruin everything you had worked all your life for.
As the time approached for the scholars to cross the bridge and enter the hall, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the challenge ahead. This was your moment, and nothing would stand in your way.
Or so you thought.
As you stepped onto the bridge, Namgil and his cronies moved into position. With a quick, coordinated push, you were sent plummeting into the pond below. The cold water enveloped you, and panic set in immediately. You flailed, trying to keep your head above water, but it was futile. "H-help! Please!"
Laughter erupted from above. Namgil and his friends stood at the edge of the bridge, their mocking laughter ringing in your ears.
"Oops! Looks like Scholar Moon won't be making history today," Namgil taunted, his voice dripping with malice.
"I... c-can't swim..."
Everyone froze, the courtyard falling silent as your bully's laughter ceased. The realisation hit them like a ton of bricks: the pond was much deeper than they had anticipated, and you couldn't swim. Your desperate cries for help echoed in the sudden stillness, turning their malicious prank into a potential tragedy.
Panic spread among the scholars as they realised what they had done. What began as sabotage could now be seen as attempted murder, and their futures hung in the balance. Namgil's face drained of colour as he watched you struggle, knowing full well the consequences of their actions.
Fortunately for you, and unfortunately for them, San happened to be dropping by to observe the examination. His heart plummeted at the sight before him. Without a second thought, he pushed through the panicked crowd of useless men and plunged into the pond, desperate to save you.
His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you up from the depths. He swam with determined strokes, bringing you to the safety of the pond's edge. As he hoisted you onto solid ground, he checked for signs of life, his own breath coming in ragged gasps from the effort and fear.
You coughed and sputtered, expelling water from your lungs as you gasped for air. San's relieved expression melted into one of fierce protectiveness and anger. He turned to face the group of terrified scholars, his eyes blazing with fury.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded, his voice a low growl. "Do you have any idea what you almost did?"
Namgil and his friends could only stammer incoherent excuses, their earlier bravado replaced by sheer terror. The royal secretary's intervention had saved you, but it had also sealed their fate.
A few examiners rushed out just in time to witness the chaos, their expressions darkening at the sight of the guilty, terrified faces of Namgil and his cronies. Realising the gravity of their actions, the bullies pleaded for mercy as they were escorted away to face the consequences.
The royal secretary turned toward you, gently brushing aside the damp strands of hair that clung to your face, his touch tender. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, his concern evident in his expression.
Your lips quivered at the tenderness in his voice and the worry etched on his face. He was the first and only man to care so deeply for you, and you couldn't fathom how you had repeatedly pushed him away. But now, tired of denying your feelings, you couldn't hold back the tears that welled up in your eyes. With a broken sob, you shook your head. "No… I'm not," you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder.
He hesitated for a moment, startled by your sudden embrace, before returning it, enveloping you in his arms. "What's wrong? Tell me," he murmured, his voice laced with concern.
You sobbed harder, weakly hitting him. "It's you… y-you're so annoying, you know that? I hate it so much… hate that I love you."
He pulled back, wide-eyed, holding your shoulders at arm's length as he gazed into your tear-filled eyes. "Wh-what did you say…? This isn't a dream, is it?"
Through your tears, you chuckled at his reaction. "I finally muster the courage to confess to you, and that's your response?"
His smile broke through, the one you adored so much, the one where his eyes disappeared into slits, bringing warmth and comfort no matter how hard things got. Pulling you back into his arms, he stroked the back of your head. "I love you too..."
"How's your first day as a Scholar-Official, Moon?" inquired the royal secretary as you grinned at him. "It's going well, Royal Secretary Choi. Thank you for asking."
After he assisted you in petitioning His Majesty for another chance at your final examination, arguing that you were merely a victim of foul play, you were granted the opportunity. As anticipated, you passed with flying colours, ranking at the top of the batch. Finally, you held the prestigious title of scholar-official.
However, that wasn't the only change in your life. Choi San openly courted you, much to the king's approval, solidifying your status as a formidable power couple.
Leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead, he smiled, "I'll see you after work."
You blushed and gently pushed him away. "Not here, please. But yes, I'll see you later."
As you left the palace after your day's work, you spotted a familiar face. Smiling, you greeted her, but your steps faltered when she bowed respectfully.
"Hi there. I remember you," you said, trying to recall where you had met her before.
She grinned knowingly. "Yes, it's good to see you again, Scholar-Official Moon. I suppose you believe my words about the royal secretary now, don't you? After all, you and he are the talk of the palace."
Your cheeks flushed, recalling that she had been the court lady to disclose San's identity during your initial encounter. You nodded awkwardly, trying to recover from your embarrassment.
She chuckled softly. "Well then, don't let me keep you. Royal Secretary Choi is waiting for you by the entrance."
Your heart soared at the sight of San standing by the entrance, just as the court lady had claimed. He was waiting for you, and the realisation filled you with an indescribable warmth. This wasn't just any man; this was your man. Yours alone. The sight of him, tall, handsome, kind, and caring, reaffirmed your feelings.
Without a second thought, you ran over, calling out, "Sannie!" He turned towards you, his face lighting up with that beam that never failed to make your heart race. His arms opened wide, and you leapt into them, feeling a rush of joy at being in his embrace.
"I missed you, honey," he whispered, his voice filled with affection.
You pressed your lips against his, relishing the moment as his response came swiftly, his kiss soft and reassuring. Pulling back slightly, a smile played on your lips, your heart dancing with joy. "I missed you too, my big baby," you teased.
"Come on, remember you wanted to learn more about my past?" you said, chuckling at the pout on his face as you pulled away.
He nodded eagerly, and you took his hand, leading him towards a place you hadn't visited in a long time.
"So, this was the root of your hatred for men…" he murmured, his gaze fixed on your father's grave as you stood beside him. You had just finished recounting everything that had transpired, from the beginning of your existence to the hardships you endured to reach where you are today.
"Yes, but you showed me that not all men are the same," you replied softly, your voice tinged with gratitude.
He gently squeezed your hands, turning to face you with a serious expression. "And I won't stop showing you. I promise I'll be different from your father and every other man you've encountered. I'll protect you and your family as if they were my own. I'll strive to be the best husband to you and father to our future child. You'll never have to suffer alone again. I'm here for you," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.
You chuckled softly through your tears, nodding in response. "That's amusing… I don't recall agreeing to be your wife just yet. What are you talking about, Choi San?"
He let out a playful whine, "Hey! You—wait... you said 'yet' though, so that means... you will eventually, right?" he asked hopefully.
Teasingly, you stuck your tongue out at him before turning and running away. But deep down, you knew that no matter how far you went, he would always be there to catch you.
Of course, you idiot.
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Holy crap, I was gone for like 2 weeks and I return to 1.85k+ followers?! ASDFGHJKL thank you all so much😭
Anyway, I hope this was decent, y'all... I swear, I didn't plan for this part to be so freaking long HAHA but I just felt like it would take quite a bit for her hatred to turn into love hehe I hope the ending didn't feel rushed or anything :3
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! ❤️
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testrella · 18 hours
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CRAZY RICH ASIANS…! G.SATORU X READER : PROLOGUE
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𝜗𝜚 SYNOPSIS 𝜗𝜚
since the beginning of japan, the gojo clan has always been wealthy. the clan brought their money to rural japan and built from the bottom up, making them the landlords of half of japan.
gojo satoru, the heir to everything, finds himself in a difficult position as he fell for somebody who his family would never approve. yet, he cannot find himself to leave as you are the first girl who isn't interested in his family's wealth.
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𝜗𝜚 | PROLOGUE
money.
sony corporation, mitsubishi corporation, nintendo co, sanrio co etc…
all these companies are based in japan and rack up billions in revenue every month. with money, comes power, and with power comes authority over everything.
and that was all satoru ever knew growing up.
“gojo satoru! how would i even begin to explain your state to your mother?!”
the first time satoru noticed his authority over people in the real world was when he was seven.
he was covered in mud, head to toe. any other day, he could’ve gotten away with it. but today was not those days.
the suit personally made for him that day was too tight. he believed if he took a walk outside, it’d stretch and fit to his liking. one thing led to another and his now ¥5790 suit was in ruins.
though he didn’t see an issue with the suit being covered in grimy wet dirt, and possibly worms. his mother gave him permission to go outside. but she knew that satoru, at age seven, would find a way to mess up his suit.
“how could you explain what to me?” the snake herself walked through satoru’s door.
satoru always believed his mother was a snake. not because her teeth could most certainly be filled with venom, or the fact she was twofaced. but because she lurks silently and waits for the right moment to wreak havoc.
before he could greet her, a loud, sharp smack was echoed in the room. almost like a wet towel was being thrown against the floor.
“how dare you let my child walk around looking like this?” her voice was strong and full of jurisdiction.
satoru watched the head maid get beaten to the floor. it was hit after hit. it was like a broken movie cd, and it replaying the worst scene.
“mom, please stop..” he spoke barely above a whisper. but somewhere within that sentence, he gained consciousness.
as he watched blood splattered across the room, he knew in that moment that he was the only one who could say something. everyone watched in terror as the young boy stood with unshaken bravery.
“mother, as future heir to the gojo clan, i-i command you to stop!!”
and she did. that was power.
and nobody in japan had any when standing next to gojo satoru.
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taking care of kids full-time wasn’t something you had in mind. children are snotty, had sticky fingers and asked a million questions that have no answers.
your heart was set on journalism.
you wanted to be the next to have their big break with the most jaw dropping piece. but fate had other ideas for me.
“boys in the back, please be quiet. how many times do i have to ask all of you to not talk while someone’s presenting??” a frustrated sigh escaped your lips as they continued their banter at the kid in front of the class.
now you find yourself in a secondary classroom, asking teenagers to be quite for the millionth time.
“miss. l/n,” your head turned to the direction of the child, “may i use the restroom? it’s an emergency.”
you knew him well enough that he was trying to escape from presenting his project next. the boy was quiet and kept to himself. the only time he would ever speak was to use the restroom, or to greet you in the morning.
“nice try, you can go after you present. come on up fushiguro, you’re next.” you gave him an encouraging smile as his posture slumped.
you rested your arms on your desk and watched the boy slowly walk up to the front. he gave you one last ‘do i have to?’ look before speaking to his peers.
once again, the group of boys snickered and made rude remarks towards him.
“look at emo boy up there. his hair is covering his entire face!”
“i bet you could punch him, and he wouldn’t see it coming.”
before you could silence them, your student spoke up.
“why don’t you come up and find out then?”
the class starts echoing ‘ooouuu’ at his comeback. as smart as it was, it was highly inappropriate. sighing, you stand up from your chair “okay, settle down everyo-“
“OH SO ITS LIKE THAT EMO BOY?!”
one of the boys from the back stands up so aggressively that it knocks down the desk in front of him.
“yeah, it’s like that.” fushiguro states with the straightest face anybody could have. he was unphased by the other’s outburst. as if he had his share of tantrums from others.
“you’re gonna let him talk to you like that? beat his ass!” one kid blurted.
“get his ass! we got you from right here…” another said while muttering the last sentence.
and of course, with teaching, you get to see your fair share of fights. although nothing could’ve prepared for you to see a five v one.
..and nothing, absolutely NOTHING could’ve prepared you to watch the quiet kid in your class demolish all five boys before being separated.
“megumi fushiguro! i will be calling your father, and he WILL be having a meeting with miss. l/n and myself.” declared the head of the school.
you watched awkwardly as he slumped down into his chair, muttering a quiet ‘he’s not my father’ and wiping the dry blood on his face. you wanted to speak up but the tension in office was too thick.
“i’ll- um,” both the dean and megumi look at you, the first to break the silence. “i’ll get fushiguro some ice and bandages. i’ll be back before his father-“
“he’s not my dad!”
“oh! his um, his guardian. i’ll be back before his guardian arrives.” you sigh realizing that any errands you’ve had before would have to be rescheduled.
the cold, tingling feelings lingers on both hands as you alternate the ice bag on your hands. your eyes are glued to the floor as you have today's events replay in your head.
from your lack of situational awareness, you bump into a wall. or at least what you thought was a wall. you look up and see a white haired male towering over you.
“woah there little lady, you okay? seems like we’re both in a hurry today.”
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swordsandholly · 2 days
Text
Fancy
Ch 3: The Wheels of Fate Started to Turn
Previous | Next | Ao3
MDNI
Vampire!Poly 141 x Fem!Plus Size!Reader
Word Count: 4.3k
Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.
Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.
You feel sick when you wake. Muscles weak and body shaky. It takes more effort than you would like to peel your eyes open. You haven’t sat under a UV lamp in a while and it’s starting to show. The cocoon of sheets feels so good you don’t want to get up, to peel yourself away from them.
You realize Johnny and Kyle are gone as you sit up, all alone in the center of the massive bed. The room feels darker without them, somehow. Emptier. You roll over to climb off the bed, interrupted by the sound of paper crinkling under you. You feel around the mattress only to find a thick envelope with ‘Fancy’ neatly written across the front. As you open it, your breath catches in your throat at the contents. It’s nearly double what they said they’d pay. More than you could have ever hoped for. It makes your hands shake to hold that much money all at once. Once the shock wears off, a folded up piece of paper catches your eye.
Hey lovie,
Sorry to take off without saying goodbye. Had some business to attend to. Figured we should let you sleep. Hope you won’t be too mad ;)
We left a little extra for spending the night. Nothing like cuddling up next to a soft, warm lady.
Let’s do it again soon.
Kyle + Johnny
The handwriting changes to a messy scrawl that you have to squint to make out.
P.S. You look bonnie in my shirt. Gonnae be thinking about that all day. Feel free to take it with you.
P.S.S. I want it back unwashed.
You can’t help but snicker to yourself. Damn dirty dog.
You have no reason to deny him, though. So you slip the t-shirt on over your dress as you get ready to leave. The dress feels far too constrictive for the early morning. This is why you don’t do nights - walking out looking like a mess in the itchy day old clothes. You give up looking for your panties which seem to have evaporated, not too keen on putting them back on anyway.
Before you can tip-toe your way out to the front door, you find yourself pausing. The kitchen light is on, illuminating a figure working over the stove. Curiosity gets the better of you and you circle around the counter to see John sorting ingredients in nothing but a loose pair of sweatpants. Strong, nicely hairy chest on full display.
And they call you and slut.
“Good morning.” He flashes you a bright smile. Of course he noticed you. He probably smelled you before he even heard you leave the bedroom.
“Sorry… I, uh, didn’t mean to intrude.” You mumble awkwardly.
“No, no. I was hoping you’d stop f’me. My boys treat you alright?” He eyes your shirt.
Being asked that a second time throws you off. Why the hell do they care so much? “They did.”
“Good. Good.” He smiles warmly. “I’ll make you some breakfast.”
You scoff. “You? No offense but I’d rather take my chances with the nearest dumpster.”
“Contrary to popular belief, some of us remember how to cook.”
You glance at the half-dozen cart of eggs and perfectly fresh vegetables neatly arranged across the counter. “And you just happened to have human food on hand?”
He pauses. “…I may have had some delivered.”
John turns back to the stove, muttering something under his breath about ‘too smart for her own damn good.’
You pad over beside him to look down at the food, staring at the spread. You point at some red thing you don’t recognize. “What is that?”
He cocks an eyebrow. “The tomato?”
“Tomatoes are purple.” You poke it. “And more squishy.”
You meet his eye and for a brief moment, you think you see pity. Something sad swirling in the blue of his irises. He schools his face back to neutral before you can be sure you saw anything at all.
“Well, hopefully you trust an old codger like me to make you a half-decent omelette.”
You snort, leaning back on the kitchen island. “I’ve got nothing to lose.”
You both lapse into silence. He does seem to know what he’s doing - carefully chopping the vegetables and carefully folding the omelette in the pan. Maybe he had a human wife at some point or something. Most likely. That’s not uncommon, especially back in the 21st century. Practically a trend. You tilt your head as you watch him move, brow furrowed. He’s so weird.
What could you have said to them to make them treat you like this? You’re almost afraid to know - that block of time so buried in the recesses of your mind there’s no hope of ever recovering it. That doesn’t mean you haven’t tried since that day, but you know we’ll enough that it never works. You don’t have a single guess as to what it could have been.
Maybe you didn’t say anything. Maybe they’re just weirdly tunnel visioned. Vamps do that often enough - hone in on a target of affection. For any reason from looking like a dead loved one or they just have an enticing scent. Except they’re not usually this… nice. Normally they’d just drain the object of their affection and be done with it. Not ask them to sleep over for the night and cook them breakfast in the morning.
You’re pulled from your thoughts when a plate is set in front of you. It looks… perfect. At least you assume that’s what a good omelette looks like. Nicely golden. It looks alien. Food from another world - another time. You glance up at John as he watches you expectantly. It won’t hurt to entertain him, you suppose. Even if it does end up being shit. You cut a small bite, tentatively bringing it to you your lips. You brace for something awful.
Except it’s incredible. Perfectly cooked and seasoned. You can’t help but let out a content little hum before practically scarfing it down. You haven’t had food like this in… ever, actually. Neither this fresh or well made.
“So you like it?” John smiles.
You nod happily with a mouth full of food before remembering where you are. Steeling yourself and slowing down, returning to the more reserved persona. “It’s good.”
John huffs out a laugh, turning his back to you to clean up. “I’ll drive you home when you’re finished.”
You pause mid bite. “Oh, no, I can take the train-“
“Do you really want t’walk all the way to the depot in those heels?” John cocks an brow, blue eyes dragging from your face, over your body and down your legs. There’s a slow burning intensity in the movement that sends a shiver down your spine.
You stare at him for a moment, uncertain of what to do. The last thing you need is to owe a vampire for anything. They’ll take your debts to the grave. It happened with your neighbor once - you learned early on to be wary of any offer made by one of them. Never make a deal with one of the devils.
“You won’t be indebted for it.” John chuckles as if he can read your damn mind. Maybe he can.
You chew your lip. It’s at least an hour walk to the metro station from here. You don’t want him to see where you live, though. It will ruin the illusion. Images flash through your mind of the craggily walls of your apartment building. The syringes that line the sidewalk. There’s that massive blood stain on the front steps they still haven’t cleaned up after five years.
But then you meet his eyes. They’re so sincere. So bright. Whatever that tug is in your chest that keeps giving into them pulls again. It’s unraveling you, making you insane. Surely that’s it, you’re finally going insane.
“Okay.” It comes out weaker than you’d like.
John grins a though you gave him the greatest gift in history. It makes your face hot - leaves you shifting awkwardly. You’re not used to that much emotion carved into their marble features. This coven is too expressive. It’s putting you on edge, leaving you with your guard up. Against what, though? What’s the point? Shouldn’t you be happy and play into their more excitable nature?
It’s too unfamiliar. Too otherworldly to see human emotion on their god like features.
A cool finger hooks under your chin, lifting your face to meet John’s gaze. “You think too much.”
You scoff and tear your face away from his hand. Thinking keeps you alive. The girls that don’t think don’t survive past their teens. You have to be smart to stay alive here. To even have a hope of keeping up with creatures who contain centuries of knowledge and experience. Who are so far ahead in the race the best you can do is limp along in the dust.
A valet pulls the car around. John changed into jeans and half zip sweater. You would die before admitting to the small bit of disappointment at him donning a shirt. You expect the black SUV from the night before to pull up. Instead, you’re met with a basic sedan. It’s still nice - obviously new. The seats are a soft, well cared for leather.
“So is this what you do? Invite prostitutes over for omlettes and tea and then drive them home?” You blurt as John starts the car. That itch to dissect their thought processes continues to plague the back of your mind.
“Tea?” He repeats, a brow raised.
“Simon made me tea last night.”
John laughs. “Kyle really did fuck your throat raw, then?”
You whirl on him, eyes wide.
“Don’t act so surprised. Johnny can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. Said you took it beautifully.” John sighs. “Bit jealous I didn’t get to watch the show. A good cigar and whiskey in hand? The perfect night, I think. Might have to recreate it…”
That last bit sounds more for him than for you.
You shouldn’t blush. You’ve been doing this long enough that there’s no reason to blush anymore. You have no right to be flustered over something as simple as sex. It’s the way he says it, you think. The way desire drips from every syllable as though he’s never said anything more true in his immortal life.
You just hide behind a huff and look out the window. “You’re all very weird, you know that?”
“Are we, now?” John rests his elbow on the door and his head on his hand. He weaves through the chaotic city roads expertly.
“You’re too…” You wrinkle your nose, pausing. The word gets lost on your tongue.
“Human?”
“If you say so.”
John chuckles. “You’re just as weird, you know that?”
“I am not weird!” You snap indignantly.
“If you say so.”
You have to do a double take when he pulls up to your apartment. Is it really that fast by car? What was that, ten minutes? The train is a nearly twenty minute ride with two fifteen minute walks. The walk is nearly three hours - two if you take the back way.
“Everythin’ alright?” He asks, voice dropping to a low drawl. You shake your head to clear it, pulling your respirator out of your coat.
“Don’t you need a-“ You stop when you meet John’s deadpan expression. “Oh, right.”
“Appreciate the concern, love.” He chuckles. It’s a surprisingly warm sound.
You reach for the door, respirator in hand and at the ready. You pause when John lays a hand lightly on your shoulder. Turning back, your eyes meeting his. There’s that storm again. The one he looked at you with before. Something roiling underneath the surface.
“Fancy?”
“Yes?”
“Before you go.” John leans forward. “C’mere.”
You assume he wants a kiss. It wouldn’t surprise you - a little thank you for the ride. Frankly, you should have thought of it first. Instead, he ducks his head to the side at the last moment. His hand tangles gently but firmly in your hair to pull your head to the side, leaving your neck craned and exposed. You freeze. Fear takes over - your heart rate immediately spiking. Your hands fist his coat, pushing as hard as you can against the unmoving mountain that is his body.
“John-“ Your voice cracks. “Please don’t-“
“Need t’ make sure you’re safe…” He mumbles.
A fang catches your skin. You freeze.
It drags across your neck, down the arch of your artery. You suck in a hear breath, the skin not quite breaking under the touch. Before you can speak or begin pushing again or even try to get out of the car, he bites down. A yelp escapes you as his teeth slowly sink in - only through the top most layer of skin. Not enough to puncture the artery or even for his other teeth to bite into your skin.
Your whole body shakes. “What’re you-“
John shushes you as he pulls away, eyes locked on the cut he made on your neck. You can feel the wet blood beginning to drip down your neck. His hand stays in your hair, holding you in place. The blue of his irises seems somehow brighter, pupils so narrowed they don’t look to be more than pinpricks. After a few beats he seems satisfied, letting your hair go and sitting back in his seat.
“Just a precaution, love.”The vampire looks you over, eyes suddenly painfully soft again. “Take care of yourself.”
Your eyes flick between his. A cold, rushing fear pumps through your veins. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish before you finally come to your senses, taking the chance to dash out of the car and toward your apartment. Fight or flight pushing away any ability to ask what the fuck that was. By the time you turn around to check behind you, John is far down the street.
You rush to your bathroom mirror, tossing your respirator to the ground as soon as you’re in your front door. It’s not deep. He didn’t even lick up after himself - a thin trail of blood pooling around your clavicle before continuing down. It wasn’t about drinking. You hiss as your fingers lightly test the tender skin.
What the fuck?
He’s a vampire. At the end of the day that’s all he is. No facial expressions or ability to cook will undo that he’s a different creature entirely. Was that what this is about? Reminding you what they are? The power they have? You wouldn’t put it past one of them, the sick fucks. What kind of fool were you to think they’re at all different.
After a shower and finally changing into some pajamas (minus a certain vampire’s tshirt that he will not be getting back) you go to grab your lamp. It doesn’t take long to set up the UV light, just dragging it out of storage and setting up the shade above it so that the rays concentrate downward onto your skin. You slowly sink to the ground. Exhaustion clings to your bones. They feel brittle and heavy simultaneously.
You sigh, curling up under the warm light like a cat. You have to be smart about how long you stay under it - the damn thing runs up the electricity bill like nothing else. Plus, too long under it can cause serious skin damage. As much as you’d rather go without, you’ve seen what happens to those that do.
You half heartedly re-count out the envelope of money, still feeling overwhelmed at the sheer amount of it. At the whole situation at hand. You realize quickly enough that despite having the money to do almost anything you don’t actually… know what to do. Despite the plan being to save up and get out of the slums you never really planned for what to do once you were out of the slums.
The realization that you never truly believed you could do it, even unconsciously, is a little heartbreaking.
Do you keep working at the club? Hope that these clients like you enough to keep up with your new lifestyle? Pray that they enjoy fucking you for long enough to save up? Do you even want to see them after what John just did? Do you look for another job? There isn’t much you can get when the whole of your resume is stamped with WHORE in bright red letters.
With a low groan you slump back on the floor and throw your arm over your eyes. Everything is so fucked. You’re lost in it and it’s all fucked.
Normally, you would avoid information about the people that come in and out of your club. They’re looking for discretion, after all. A place to hide away from the dealings of life. A fantasy. If you were smart, you’d stick with that habit. Especially when it comes to the ones that literally compel you to forget their business.
John just lost the right to any discretion after that stunt in the car.
You open up your shitty laptop that requires five hail mary’s to start. It greets you with the top headlines of the day, all just as enjoyable as you’d expect.
UNKNOWN SUBSTANCE FOUND IN FOUR MORE JANE DOES
NEW DRUG CYTH TAKING THE UNDERGROUND MARKETS BY STORM
CORPSE FOUND WITH BLOOD LEAKING FROM PORES
You close them out, for your own sanity, and type John’s name into the search bar. A few things come up - some company called One-Four-One with the most nothing description about what kind of company they are. They “develop products and services” - aka they’re a shell for shady bullshit. They’re listed as the benefactor for some lower city charities and given responsibility for several mergers and buy-outs in the upper city. All the things you’d expect from a corporation.
It’s too clean, though. You’ve been living in the underbelly long enough to know what a front looks like. Not that you’re surprised. Every vampire corporation is a cover for a million other little inner workings you will never be privy to.
The only pictures of John are a few from press reports. His imposing figure standing behind some ugly podium with a logo hastily plastered across the front. He has a commanding air about him behind all those microphones - like a preacher or a politician. Fitting.
Johnny and Kyle have a far more risqué library. Images with models and other beautiful women. The kinds of things you’d expect from young, playboy vampires stretching over the past century at least, according to the archive dates. The boys aren’t the focus of the images - it’s all paparazzi for the women - but they’re in them nonetheless. How the hell did Johnny manage to squeeze into a pair of leather pants like that?
Simon doesn’t even seem to exist. A total ghost. No matter how deep you go you can’t find a trace of him. You manage to get all the way back to the 1990s in the archive and still come up with jack shit.
You’re left with more questions than answers and a distinct understanding that you shouldn’t ask any of them. You knew that already, though, and you have no plans to let John Price close enough to speak to you anytime soon.
You didn’t realize you fell asleep up until you wake, alarm blaring in your ear that it’s time to get up and go to work. It never ends. You still feel so fucking tired, body heavy and eyes stinging. A haze settles over your mind as you fall into your constant routine. Makeup, hair, dress, respirator on, walk, train, respirator off, walk.
Your locker in the back room fights you, forcing you to practically break it open. Just another thing to leave you feeling angry and useless.
“I heard they got Red.” The girl beside you whispers. She’s mousy, new. A gossiper. She even tried to talk to you, at least before she found out that you apparently steal clients.
The girl she’s speaking to side eyes her. “What do you mean got ‘er?”
“With that new drug - Cyth or whatever.”
“Cyth isn’t real. It’s just people making up shit to cover up what the vamps are doing. As if we don’t already know.”
“But what about-“ You don’t hear the rest of what she says, her voice drowning out as you leave the back room.
Time seems to crawl by at the club without the men. You hate it. Not just the slowness of the day but the fact that they’ve had that effect on you. That these creatures you barley know have invaded your thoughts. Wormed themselves into the nooks and crannies of your psyche. Marked you - however temporarily that may be.
The patrons avoid your eyes. You serve their drinks, and where they would normally make a salacious remark or grab onto you they just offer a huffy thanks and ignore you. The tips are garbage, even the other serving girls notice and begin to basically steal your tables. It has to be the bite.
Why, though? Plenty of serving girls have fresh bite marks and they aren’t getting reactions like that. You can count four on the main floor right now.
At least once the day is over, it’s over. You can go home and hide away. Be angry in peace. Maybe make a plan for what to do. Maybe you can leave the city you and your friends talked about as teens. Except they’re all dead now and you’re pretty sure there isn’t anything outside of the dome anymore. At least not anything you could get to.
The other girls don’t walk with you to the metro anymore. The streets are never truly empty in the main city. There’s no real day or night. It’s only the places humans inhabit that become abandoned during the “night.” As you exit the lower city station, the streets empty out. It’s just you, footsteps echoing off buildings. The smog in the air only makes it darker - even harder to navigate.
Until a second pair of footsteps appears, fast and growing louder by the second. Before you can even begin to run or check behind you a force slams into you, sending you tumbling down onto harsh concrete and into an alley.
You’re cornered. There’s nowhere to go. Before you can grapple for your garlic spray the vampire has your wrists in his hand, pulling you up to dangle in front of him. The backs of your hands and arms scrape against the rough brick of the building he’s pinned you too. It hurts, cutting deep into your skin under the pressure of his strength.
The thing hisses, ripping off the neck guard attached to your respirator. The whole thing goes clattering to the ground. You choke on the poison air, lungs immediately rejecting it.
You tip your eyes to the obstructed sky. Of course it would end this way. It’s the end for you all, isn’t it? Just another body in an alley. Another free apartment for people to fight over. Another headline for people to frown at on the train. You wonder if they would use your name or just leave you as another Jane Doe.
What do the real stars look like, anyway?
He takes a long inhale and freezes in place. You can barely make out wide, frenzied eyes. A hood blocks any of his other features. His breath hastens, chest heaving against yours. What the hell is he waiting for?
Suddenly he reels backward, hissing and spitting. Muttering words you don’t understand. It drops you so suddenly that you collapse to the ground. Unable to gain any footing, still coughing and choking.
“What-“ You’re not even sure why you want to ask it a question. Before you can at all the thing runs away down the alley. Your hand travels up to your neck.
The bite.
A coughing fit sends you doubling over and you blearing grope around the ground for your respirator. At least it didn’t get smashed, you sigh in relief - clipping it back around your face and neck.
Your hands shake and you turn, staring up at that massive skyscraper hanging above the city. It’s taunting you. You feel like you can almost see John staring down at you, toying with you. An anger flares in your body so hot you almost feel as thought you’ve caught fire. He wants to fuck with you? To make you feel weak? To try to lay some sort of claim?
Fine. You can play ball.
A/N: John “you don’t need to know what’s going on, love, just do what I say” Price and Miss “don’t fuck with my independence” Fancy
I don’t love this chapter but I gotta get plot moving and grooving.
350 notes · View notes
aothotties · 20 hours
Text
Telling Choso you want a baby
Word count: 1635
Warnings: MDNI, best friend!Choso, fluff, smut, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of kids, swearing, riding, overstimulation, creampie, the ending is so cute to me.
~~~~~~
You and your best friend are currently lying in his bed while watching random videos as they come and go. You stumble upon a video of a mom showing flashbacks of her body during pregnancy and you can’t help but pout.
“What's wrong?” He mumbles and yawns for a few seconds, followed by a stretch after he throws his phone to the side.
“It’s nothing, I’m just being a sap.” You show him the video on your phone and he shrugs in return.
“Yeah, cute kid I guess. Mom’s got a nice body though.” He rests his chin on your shoulder and you roll your eyes.
“Of course, that’s all you notice, you’re such a man.” You scroll to another video and double tap the screen.
He shakes his head at your reaction and takes the phone from your hand so he can scroll through your feed himself.
“So you’re on some baby kick, huh?” You shrug in return and pull your legs up to your chest.
“I don’t know maybe, I think I want a baby, Cho.” You confess and he nearly drops the phone on his face at the confession.
“Where in the hell did that come from?” He sits up in bed and gives you his full attention.
You shy away from the question and cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. Choso finds it adorable at how flustered you become over the simple question.
“I’m not sure, I’ve wanted a baby for a while now. You know I’ve always wanted to be a mother. I just could never find the right guy to settle down with.” You explain to him and he listens to every word you say.
“I’ll have a baby with you.” He says nonchalantly and you look at him as if you’ve seen a ghost.
“Excuse me?! Cho, are you high or something?” You scan over his face for a sign of his words being a joke, but there isn’t one.
“Well for starters, I’m typically always high, you know that. And yeah, why not? You want a baby, I don’t hate the thought of having kids either. You don’t think we’d make cute babies? He pretends to be offended and you slap his shoulder.
You don’t hate the idea of having a baby with him. No, you guys aren’t together, but you’ve been friends for more than 10 years. You two have had sex in the past, so it’s not like you haven’t seen each other naked. And you won’t deny the fact that he is quite handsome.
“If you’re as serious about this as you seem…then I guess we can have a baby together.” You give him your final answer and he gives you a gentle smile.
“But if we’re going to do this then we have a bunch of things to figure out first. Are we gonna live together and-“ Your sentence is cut off by the feeling of soft lips against your own.
He pulls you into his lap quickly and reaches for the buttons on your shirt, quickly trying to pull it off. He slides his tongue in your mouth and you happily invite him in.
Your shirt is thrown to the corner of the room and your leggings soon follow after.
“You wanna make a baby, don’t you? You can’t talk and make a baby. Well, you shouldn’t be able to at least.”
And boy was he right, Choso currently has you riding his sensitive cock after god knows how long. Your thighs shake in sensitivity and you let out another whimper as he bottoms out inside of you.
“C-Cho, my legs are burning.” You pout and huff as you struggle to continue bouncing on top of him.
Choso ignores your cries for help and hisses as another orgasm is ripped from his body and he stuffs your poor cunt with more of his cum. You throw your head back at the feeling of him fucking it back inside of you.
“ ‘m sorry mama, j-just wanna make sure you get all of it. Let me help you baby.” He sits up against the headboard and takes hold of your hips.
“Fuck!” You scream and grab the headboard when his hips piston upwards and his angry red tip fucks into your sweet spot.
“Shit, shit! Feels so good, so tight and warm.” Choso’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your wet, gummy walls bringing him to the brink yet again.
“C-coming! I’m gonna come, Cho!” He holds your hips in place and continues his assault on your poor g-spot.
You can’t control your orgasm and how quickly it hits you. You dig your nails into the skin of his shoulder as your left shaking from overstimulation.
The man below you watches in awe as your body convulses on top of his exhausted one. At this moment, Choso has never seen you look more beautiful.
Your thick lips are red and messy from all the kissing and drooling, his eyes trail down your body, and the way your breasts move up and down with each bounce. His eyes land on where you’re both connected and he can’t help but rub your neglected clit with his thumb.
You shake your head and attempt to swat his hand away, quickly losing that battle when he pulls you down for another messy kiss. You whimper against his lips when he flips both of you over.
He lifts your legs and rests your calves on his shoulder. He slides back into you at a teasingly slow pace and you grip the sheets in pleasure. The dark-haired man lets out a moan at the way your walls continuously suck him in each time.
He plants a small kiss on your ankle before his hips go from slow and steady to hard and fast.
“Oh shit!” You gasp as you grip the sheets, pleasure courses through your body at the feeling of the new angle.
The sound of skin slapping can be heard throughout the room and probably through the walls if you listen close enough.
“I’m so close baby, so fucking close.” He warns, his hips begin to lose their rhythm as his climax builds within him.
“C-cum inside me Cho. I want it so bad please!” You beg, tears build up in your eyes as another orgasm pools in your lower belly.
“Y-yeah baby? Want me to fill you up real good?” He leans down so his forehead is only inches from yours and you nod shyly.
He smirks at your lack of words and presses his lips to yours one last time before overfiowing your insides with his warm speed. You moan into his mouth and drag your nails down his arms in ecstasy as you come one last time.
Your body finally relaxes after one last thrust of his hips.
“You okay princess?” He runs his fingers through his raven locks and you nod with your eyes closed, the need for sleep is growing stronger by the second.
“Thank you for doing this with me, there’s truly nobody else I think I would want a baby with.” You confess, he takes your hand in his and kisses over your knuckles.
“Don’t worry about it, anything I can do to make my best friend a happy lady.”
~~~
“Oh, Dad that’s so cheesy.” Your eight year old daughter rolls her eyes at the story and he shrugs his shoulders.
“It’s what happened! Your mom and I were best friends, she wanted a baby and the stork delivered!You asked me to tell you the story of how you guys were born, and I did.” He huffs and pulls the young girl in his lap, planting small kisses all over her face.
“Dad! Please no more.” She laughs as he continues his assault of kisses on her face.
The sound of tiny feet and screaming can be heard from down the hall, Choso and his mini-me follow the noise and he has to refrain from laughing at the sight.
You’re attempting to put your boys to bed with a bedtime story, but not without acting out the details of course.
“I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house down!” You blow raspberries over their little faces and they break out into a fit of giggles.
“Mommy does a good wolf, right guys?” Your boys nod simultaneously and you smile up at your fiancé.
“Did you know it’s actually because she is one? Why do you think she’s so hairy?” He teases and you hit his shoulder playfully.
“Haha papa, so funny.” He helps you up to your feet and plants a kiss on your lips.
Your three munchkins groan in disgust and you and Choso can’t help but laugh.
“Alright guys it’s time for bed, we’ve got a busy week coming up!” You announce, you tuck the boys in bed and kiss their foreheads.
“Goodnight Mama, goodnight Papa, goodnight Junior!”
Junior is the nickname for your oldest daughter since she’s a carbon copy of her father. The only thing she got from you is her pretty brown skin and her tight coils.
“Goodnight boys, I love you, mama and Papa.” She hugs you both simultaneously and you lean down so she can kiss your faces.
“Goodnight pretty girl, sweet dreams.” You watch as she closes her bedroom door, and cheer quietly at another successful night.
“We’re such awesome parents Cho.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder and cups your cheeks as he kisses you.
“Yeah, we kinda know what we’re doing I guess.” He smiles down at you and pulls you in by your waist.
“And to think we were gonna stop with Junior. How crazy would that have been?” You ask as you reminisce.
Once you learned about your pregnancy, you two decided that it was just going to be a one-and-done situation. Then Choso realized that not only are you an amazing mother, but that you’re an even better significant other.
He proposed to you on the night of her first birthday, and nine months later your boys arrived. He truly wouldn’t want his life to go any other way, he has everything he’s ever wanted and more.
Ari
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anifever · 2 days
Text
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Gang w/ a Sandy!Reader ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
The Outsiders x Fem!Reader
୨୧ : HC’s of the gang with a reader whose like Sandy Olsson from Grease
A/N : This doesn’t mean specifically being Australian, blonde, white, blah blah- just her personality and stuff 😭 anyways I watch grease at least once a month
˖⁺‧₊˚ 🎙️ ˚₊‧⁺˖
Darry
୨ He thinks you’re precious
୨ Probably not the type of person he thought he’d end up with, but he doesn’t care
୨ On the contrary, could’ve been a high school sweetheart situation where he played football and you did cheer teehee
୨ Anyways, no matter when he first met you happened to be, he was mainly worried about how you’d handle the boys LMAO
୨ Tells the guys off whenever they tease you about something
୨ You kind of remind him of his mom which is comforting (not in a weird way, go away Sigmund Freud)
୨ That being said, you become somewhat of a mother figure over the group
୨ Ponyboy looks up to you a lot, Johnny loves how nice you are, and Soda thinks talking to you is refreshing
୨ Overall, he’s happy that you also bring them so much comfort
୨ Him wearing a light blue button-up shirt to match one of your lil’ pastel blue dresses 😋😋
୨ Fussing when they all come back from a rumble- you would’ve been extremely against the idea in the first place
୨ Getting sick when you see the blood all over him
୨ Him assuring you he’s fine but still freaking out, but you take a breather and try to help clean him up nonetheless
୨ You’re really good at helping him relax wether it’s massaging his shoulders or cracking a joke to try and lighten the mood
୨ He’s overall really protective over you
୨ If you ever asked to go watch a rumble, which would be unrealistic anyways, he’d immediately refuse and die on that hill
୨ He also really likes that you’re still able to stand your ground and speak your mind
୨ He ALSO likes that you have manners, it’s the bare minimum but it makes him love you more
Two-Bit
୨ Says the NASTIEST stuff to you just to see your reactions
୨ Has definitely pulled the thing he did with Marcia where he playfully offers her tobacco
୨ You were at a party either he or your friend dragged you along to or something and he offered to get you a beer but you said you didn’t drink
୨ He then offered you a cig and you hastily declined and he was just like “You’re real pure, ain’t ya baby?”
୨ Some clip of Elvis performing came on the TV once and you got all flustered/uncomfortable and he got giggly about it
୨ Anyways, his little sister thinks you’re an angel
୨ She’s always talking about your perfectly styled hair, painted nails, pretty outfits, etc
୨ He responds pretty coolly when she does it with a lil’ grin, but he’s so proud of himself on the inside
୨ Imagine having tea parties with her and him just watching from the doorway with a lovey dovey smile ARGGAHAHAGAG
୨ If someone dares to call you stuff like “wet blanket” or a “goody goody” he will be coming for them HARD
୨ The insults would be so creative
୨ He’s probably convinced you to drink just once and you threw up immediately after
୨ Never again.
Steve
୨ Absolutely thought you were a prude at first
୨ Even after he got to know you better, he still teased you about it
୨ One-sided enemies to lovers 😇😇
୨ You coming into the DX and him just mumbling under his breath while Soda rings you up
୨ Then proceeds to gossip about you after you leave; not without you giving them both a big smile and filling the tip jar first
୨ “Ain’t ever seen a girl that cheery. She apparently hasn’t even kissed anybody, y’know that? 🙄” and Soda’s just like “Man, who cares..”
୨ Soda slowly notices how much he talks about you and realizes what’s happening
୨ He brought it up and Steve was like “NUH-UH”
୨ Even with that, it was extremely obvious
୨ He constantly stares at you whenever you come into the store, he sees you at school, or just anywhere in general
୨ Anyways yada yada he finally asked you out after some subtle flirting that slowly became more obvious
୨ EVERYBODY is surprised
୨ An innocent, friendly soc with a greaser mechanic who does backflips off of cars; not a common pairing
୨ If you ever happened to swear ONCE, he’d have a field day
୨ A “damn,” “hell,” or “shit” slips out and it’s like someone died- he’ll never let it go
୨ He’s the type to tease you then get pissed when someone else joins in
୨ He’s “Only I’m allowed to do that” in the flesh
Dallas
୨ Caught off guard at first
୨ Deadass didn’t believe anyone could be as big of a goody-two-shoes as you are
୨ Fs teases you but you slowly grow on him- he sees the innocence as a challenge (not surprising)
୨ Found out you didn’t even have pierced ears and was like ?????
୨ Dare I say he’s a Kenickie variant
୨ Then again, the scene where Danny’s like “I don’t do parents” when Sandy asks him to come over is so him too
୨ Knocked on your window in the middle of the night and saw your nightgown and started chuckling about it, and you then proceeded to try and shut him up because you were horrified of your parents hearing him
୨ Going to Buck’s with him and either staying in his room or just sitting uncomfortably in a corner
୨ You might watch a pool game but all the smoke and alcohol would overwhelm you
୨ Unfortunately, he’s the type to pull the thing Danny did at the drive in, in which you’d ofc react the same way Sandy did
୨ You calling Buck’s car a “sin wagon” would be so accurate
୨ He tries to make it up to you by showing up to your front door (much to your parents dismay..) and giving you his Christopher again along with some flowers that he definitely didn’t pick from some rando’s garden
୨ I’m lying. He did.
୨ He also takes you on a real date afterwards, which is saying something
୨ Like Steve, he’s also the type of person to get mad when another person thinks they can make fun of you
୨ You’re so understanding and forgiving that he’s kinda confused a lot of the time LMAO
୨ Luckily for him, your good reputation probably gets him out of a lot of trouble
Soda
୨ Oh my god he’s so nice about it
୨ He’s head over heels
୨ Obviously he goofs off with the boys, but he’s overall the nicest/most open minded
୨ You two are so smiley all the time and it makes everyone SICK
୨ Gets a kick out of you not understanding sexual jokes or innuendos
୨ You guys look so good together it’s insane
୨ You’re so calming compared to the stress of being in between Darry and Pony’s arguments constantly
୨ He also loves how bubbly and kind you are to everyone because of it
୨ Going to drag races with him simply because he likes them and you like seeing him happy (the scene where Sandy watches Danny race reference⁉️)
୨ He is not the brightest in the head but you’re extremely patient with him
୨ He’s also extremely protective over you
୨ Like imagine you’re visiting him at the DX and some other soc’s come by and start teasing you to his face when you head inside for a second
୨ He proceeds to get one of the hoses off the pump and start spraying them with gas 😋🤍
୨ Before they can get out, he just keeps spraying them in the face or something which makes them drive away
୨ He just laughs to himself and puts the nozzle up as you come back outside and you’re like “???? Babe what happened?” when you see the trail of gas and all he replies with is “Nothing sweetheart!! 🤗”
୨ He knows Steve’s gonna complain about having to help clean up the mess later but it was worth it to him
Johnny
୨ Probably the most chill with it??
୨ He thinks it’s sweet
୨ Also thinks you’re somewhat of a breath of fresh air from the guys, along with soc’s in general too
୨ Definitely thought it was kinda odd you didn’t drink or smoke or anything, but thought it was nice to meet someone who didn’t for a change
୨ You guys take walks through town from time to time and it’s a huge contrast
୨ A denim-clad boy covered in a bunch scars with a preppy looking girl who radiates happiness
୨ You help him get a better outlook on life with how positive you are
୨ Loveslovesloves all the pastel clothes you wear
୨ When he met you for the first time he couldn’t believe how nice you were
୨ Watching a movie either at the drive-in or Curtis house and some form of nude scene coming on, you covering your eyes, and him just grinning at your reaction
୨ Doesn’t hesitate to talk back to Dallas if he says something bad about you
୨ You never try to force him out of his comfort zone or anything and he appreciates that
୨ He said something about “a weed” to Dal and you had no clue what they meant
୨ “Hey Dal, you got a weed?”
୨ “Huh?”
୨ “Uh, I asked if he had a weed.”
୨ “..A what? What’s that mean?”
୨ Dallas chimes in from the bg and is like “Yo.. Johnny, man, is she kiddin’?”
Pony
୨ The main problem he has with it is the fact you don’t smoke and don’t like it in general
୨ He def tries to cut down for you/at least not do it in front of you though
୨ Started when he lit a cigarette while you guys were walking together and you started coughing like a maniac while he was just like 🤨
୨ Since he’s the youngest out of them all, he isn’t super used to hanging out with girls so it doesn’t phase him
୨ He thinks it’s different than most people for sure, but he knows what it’s like to feel that way so he relates
୨ He admires how nice you are to everybody
୨ Especially to greasers
୨ You’re so soft-spoken that it makes him giggle and kick his feet sometimes
୨ You’re a good student so you probably help him with work a lot
୨ Steve probably said something mean about you once and he got all sassy and made a remark to him
୨ “Heard you’re dating some priss now, ‘s that right, Pone?” and he’s like “Why don’t you go stick you and your big nose in someone else’s business if it’s that important?”
୨ Safe to say Steve kept his thoughts on you to himself after that
୨ Another one who thinks the way you dress (and look in general) is gorgeous, he’s left gobsmacked every time he sees you
୨ He’s always admiring you and has probably drawn you at least once
୨ His sass sometimes comes out on you when you don’t know something, but it’s jokingly
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f1bordeaux · 2 days
Text
The String That Binds Us. (Chapter 1) | ln4, cl16
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You fell in love with this sport all because of him. It would be selfish not to thank that boy for his help in getting you here today, even if you both ended on rocky terms. However, after finding yourself in the same paddock as your childhood bestfriend, your mentor, your first true love, and the boy who left you for the bigger picture, you realize that he wants nothing to do with you. So, as fate has it, perhaps you'll end up in the arms of someone else. Or maybe, just maybe, that string that has been tied to the two of you since birth will pull you back into eachothers lives. Warnings : none Pairings : Lando Norris x reader, Charles Leclerc x reader Word Count : 1923 Poetry style | Story style A/n: here, my lovelies, is chapter one. Not proofread srry lolsies. Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
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one; y/n. 
There was something about it, something in the early morning rays reflecting off the cherry-red paint that just wiped away all exhaustion previously held in your bones. You were wide awake as you stared at the cars being rolled off the truck and into the garage. It was only five am but the sun had already crept over the horizon well enough to illuminate the sight in front of you. Golds and reds, blacks and yellows all mixed into a work of art nobody else could recreate. This is what you were here for. This is what you were living for.
“Gorgeous, innit’?”
You turned to your left, face to face with two others donning the same uniform as you. The woman who had spoken seemed a bit older than you, but now way had she yet reached her thirties. A man was accompanying her, although his eyes rested not on you, but on the tyres now being rolled out of the truck. He seemed close to her age, his deep-tanned skin a high contrast to hers.
You smiled at her before looking down at your lanyard. It was still so hard to process being here, on a Thursday morning in Bahrain, waiting for the weekend that was about to ensue. You were one of them now. You were an insider, a person that got to see everything on a deeper level. People dreamed of getting here, people worked their whole lives in hopes of getting here and yet here you were, 23 years old and face-to-face with Carlos Sainz’s car. It looked so much better in-person.
“It really is.” You sighed, looking back up. The truck was empty now, they were beginning to close the back door. “I still can't believe I’m here.”
The blonde lady leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of your badge. “Y/n y/ln? You're new, huh?”
You turned to meet her eyes, a large smile on your face. “Yes, I just graduated University.”
“What an amazing first job to have then.” She smiled back. The man beside her now looked at you as he adjusted the ballcap on his head. “I'm Bridgette, but everyone in the garage just calls me Bridge.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” You extended out a hand which she gratefully accepted.
“This is Lorenzo.” Bridgette nodded to the man who offered a toothless smile and his hand. “Enough standing around, we’ve got work to do. Walk with us.”
So you did. The garage wasn’t too far away, just around the corner, but Bridgette loved to talk; that you quickly found out. “Where are you from?” Was her first question.
“Bristol.”
“I hear it’s nice. They’ve got that beautiful river running through it, no?” She asked, looking straight ahead. You just nodded, unsure if she saw your response, but when she kept going you assumed she had. “I’m from Perth. Nothin’ quite like Australia, I must say.” “Isn’t Lando from Bristol?” Lorenzo added. His accent was thick as he spoke.
You nodded again, this time opting to expand on the question. “He is, yeah. We actually grew up together.”
Bridgette turned her head to look at you. “No way! Why didn’t your mate get you a job over at Mclaren?”
A blush coated your cheeks. You didn’t know where it came from, maybe embarrassment, maybe fear, hell, maybe even sadness. Lando wouldn’t have put in a good word for you, not today. Perhaps seven years ago when the two of you were teenagers and on a completely different page, but not now.
“We don't talk like we used to. He was gone a lot but he moved away for good when he was seventeen. He never really looked back, either.” You sighed. An odd sense of pity hung over the three of you. In an attempt to lighten the mood you clapped your hands together and smiled at the two engineers next to you. “But he got me into cars and engineering! So, I owe him a thanks for that.”
Bridgette nodded and pressed her lips into a thin line. “There ya’ go.”
The next few moments were rushed. The three of you entered the garage where people worked on putting everything into place. You were introduced to management and owners, mechanics and bosses. Tyres were being placed on racks, tarps were being placed over backup cars, tool boxes were being passed around. It was thrilling, even if you were just standing on the sidelines watching as it all happened. Soon, however, someone called your name. You were sure it was Bridgette or Lorenzo, but it was someone else. Alessandro, Charles' chief mechanic, was heading straight for you, clipboard in hand.
“Have you been assigned a team yet?”
“No, sir.”
He smiled. “Call me Alessandro. No need for formalities. But anyways,” He looked down at the clipboard then back up at you. “Our front jack guy broke his wrist and I need someone to replace him. Care to run some drills?”
You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips. “I would be honored.”
“Awesome.” He nodded over his shoulder. “Let's go get you a suit and helmet, then.”
x
“I’d be surprised if you didn’t get the spot.” Bridgette sipped her coffee. “You absolutely crushed it.”
You blushed, rolling your finger around the rim of your cup. The Ferrari motorhome was gorgeous with its meeting rooms and rooftop balcony, with its relaxation spots and cafe. It really put into perspective where you were and who you were working for.
“Thank you,” You said quietly.
The day had gone by rather quickly. The sun was already setting over the desert and exhaustion clung to your body just as tightly as the uniform you wore. You’d spent hours running drills, practicing the most simple yet vital job-jacking the car up. You did it over and over again, improving with every run. After that you were tasked with doing inventory. Sure, it was a small task, one that didn’t require you to get hands on with the car, but it was still important. You wandered the garage counting tyres, drills, wrenches, going through tool bags and drawers. It helped you get situated in the space, to learn the layout and whereabouts of everything. Once you had finished that, you were offered to help wash Charles’ back up car. You gladly obliged, happy to be finally touching the car at least. You washed the tyres, the halo, the rear wing and a bit of the body before standing back to revel in the beauty of the car. It seemed to shine, even in the dim garage lighting. You felt so fulfilled, so privileged, so at home.
“Alessandro likes to give everyone a shot, he doesn’t discriminate.” Bridgette continued. “Today might have been your lucky break.”
“I’d be happy even being a back-up jack, honestly. Just wearing the fire suit and helmet makes me feel all,” you paused looking for the right word to describe it. “Giddy.”
“Well,” Lorenzo began, setting his phone face down on the table. “He needs to pick tonight so we can have that person participate in tomorrow's practice. You should know if you got it first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Guess I’ll be tossing and turning all night, then.” You joked.
A small laugh cluttered the table. It was getting late, the track becoming more and more empty with each passing moment. The motorhome was silent, save for the three of you lingering around. “We should go grab the last shuttle to the hotel,” Bridgette stood, taking one last swig from her cup before tossing it into a bin. “Are the two of you coming?”
Lorenzo stood up, as did you. “I left my bag in the lockers. I can wait for the next one if you both would like to go.”
“It’s ok,” he said. “We can wait for you at the front gate.”
“Alright, then. I’ll be quick.”
You jogged through the paddock, grateful that the heat had subsided. Lights poured out of each garage, illuminating pit lane in a way the sun hadn't. The sun, harsh and bright, brought a form of intimidation onto the pavement. The lights however, soft and orange, seemed to bring peace. It was a gentle reminder that at the end of the day, everything would be alright.
You dodged into the Ferrari garage, running to the back lockers to retrieve your backpack. Although your head was almost completely submerged in the metal box, you could hear faint-chatter? You leaned back, wondering if Bridgette and Lorenzo had come to find you. No, it didn’t sound like them. The voice sounded much more familiar. It was like listening to one of your favorite songs after a long while.
Lando paused at the entrance of the garage. His phone was pressed into his ear. He stared at you, eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed. Did he know it was you? Could he see you? Did he even remember what you looked like?
You swung your bag over your shoulders and closed the locker. As you approached, Lando lifted his brows, erasing the confused look on his face. He surely could see you now.
“Hey, I gotta call you back.” He sighed. “Yeah, everything is good. See you tomorrow.”
A few feet separated you and him. You debated on starting conversation, on asking how he’s been. But you decide just to nod and walk past him. That is your plan until he stops you.
“Y/n?”
You pressed your lips together in a flat smile. “Hey, Lando.”
He looked you up and down. You were uncertain if he found your Ferrari uniform insulting or fitting. What if you were wearing papaya? What if you were sporting  orange instead of red? Would he be looking at you in the same way?
“So you really did make it, huh?” Lando crossed his arms over his chest, smirking as you avoided eye contact.
“I suppose so.”
“Have they assigned you a driver?”
You looked up for the first time since your conversation began. A bit of pride swelled in your chest as you said, matter-of-factly, “Yeah, Charles Leclerc.”
He blinked hard, shocked that you landed not only a job with the most infamous F1 team, but on their star drivers car. Maybe you were better than you let on. Maybe it was more luck. But deep down Lando knew how good you were. He was able to experience it first hand as a kid.
“Wow. Most people remain without a designated driver for their first year. They kinda’ just float around doing all the dirty work. At least, that's how it is at Mclaren.”
“Right.” You gripped your backpack straps like a kid. “Good thing I'm not over there, then.”
“Yeah.”
The two of you fell quiet, only the sound of nearby passing cars and people walking by filled the air. To any bypasser this surely looked sketchy. Lando Norris, Mclarens golden boy, and a new engineer for an opposing team, just staring at one another. How odd.
You broke the silence first saying, “Well I’ve gotta’ go. I have some friends waiting for me to catch the shuttle.”
Lando just nodded, staring at the ground as you walked by. As you passed Carlos’ garage, he called out, “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”
You could barely hear it with the way he spoke so quietly. But you stopped, turning your head and offering a real, genuine smile. “Yeah,” You breathed out.
He smiled back. “Good luck.”
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peaches-and-creamm · 2 days
Text
𝓟𝓮𝓽 𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼?
What pet names do jjk boys use, if any?
FT. Satoru, Suguru, Toji, Megumi, Yuta, Yuji, & Toge.
(use of 'slut' in toji's)
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MEGUMI doesn’t really do pet names, he usually just sticks to your normal name. But if he was going to he’d probably end up just asking what ones your favorite because he genuinely has zero idea wtf to say
✎ However, “babe” is one he’s let slip a few times and the first time he did it it gave you whiplash- hell, it even gave him whiplash. Needless to say after he did that the two of you stood still with red faces.
✎ If he ever manned up to actually call you an original pet name, it’d probably be animal related- like bunny or something. He’ll say “honey bun sugar plum” and stupid stuff like that whenever you bring up pet names- enjoying the little pout you do in response to his teasing.
————
TOGE obviously just speaks in ingredients, but it's always something else whenever you two text or he uses sign language to refer to you. It's usually something mean(lovingly)
✎ Asshole, idiot, stupid, stinker- that sort of thing. Goes both ways. Love language is being mean, but if anyone even said half the stuff he “said” to you he’d probably punch them on sight-
————
SUGURU is for sure the type to just randomly come up behind you and whisper sweet nicknames into your ear to purposely fluster you, enjoying how you shiver when he calls you “my love-“ or “my darling”. He has a tendency to add “my” to the start of the words, enjoying the fact you’re his.
————
CHOSO has never been afraid to show his love, especially to those he truly does adore. He enjoys when you call him pet names more than him calling you them. Subby boy through and through- he wants to be taken care of for sure. But when he does it’s almost always “love”.
————
When it comes to SATORU, he genuinely has a problem when it comes to calling you stupid pet names- each pushing your buttons more than the last. He loves spouting random shit to address you, enjoying how you swat at him with that cute little annoyed huff of yours.
✎ Sugartits is one he loves to say after doing something nice for you- enjoying how that whine passes by your pretty lips.
✎ But if he was going to just do a NORMAL one for once it’d likely just be “babe”, especially when he wants something- dudes voice gets whiny as shit.
————
When it comes to pet names, YUJI does NOT skip out- this boy is spewing silly names left and right for you, each one said with that signature stupid giggle coming from him.
✎ Usually the go to is always baby, and each time he says it it’s somehow louder than the last time. Even through text you can just hear exactly how he’s saying it- and can perfectly imagine that stupid smile on his face as he waits for a text back.
————
YUTA, bless his heart, is one of those people who is just much better at texting his words than trying to stutter them out. His all time favorite is “angel” and every other text from this dude is him using it.
by far angel is his favorite, but “my love” and “darling” fight for their place
————
TOJI is a bastard and loves to just grab your waist, tug you in close and purr out a “slut”
though he only does that when he knows you can handle more degrading words. If he was to normally call you something it’s without a doubt “doll” or “sugar”
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M.LIST
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munsonsmixtapes · 2 days
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i have an idea!
rockstar eddie taking his younger son to a gig, his son is like 7 and obsessed with reader and her and eddie hit it off
This is such a cute idea!
rockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!reader
Not proofread!
Eddie would have been lying if he said that he didn’t have a little (huge) crush on you. He had seen you around since you both had been in the same industry and circles and had never gotten the guts to talk to you no matter how much he wanted to. Your beauty was intimidating and he knew that even if he did end up in a conversation with you, he would have just ended up sounding like an idiot.
As soon as he found out that your tour had a stop in his hometown, he knew he had to take his son, who also just so happened to be a fan of yours. Like father, like son, he supposed. Eddie got the tickets as soon as they went on sale and the two of them counted down the days until the show.
How the two of them ended up backstage waiting to meet you, he’d never know. Sure, he had met many famous people at concerts just because he was famous, but he honestly had no clue you that had any idea he existed. He supposed he should have just considered himself lucky.
The room was huge and definitely set up for a meet and greet with all of the snacks and drinks that lined the tables, but the two of you were the only ones in there besides part of your team.
If you were being honest, you had gotten wind of Eddie being a fan and had been hoping and praying that he was going to come to a show and as soon as you found out he was, you knew you had to shoot your shot.
You walked into the room looking like something right out of his dreams in a beautiful red dress and held your arms out for a hug. As soon as he was in them, he could smell your perfume, which was absolutely intoxicating.
“So lovely to meet you,” you said as you pulled away too soon for Eddie’s liking.
“And you as well,” he nodded and you turned your attention to the child next to him who looked like an exact clone of him. You leaned down to his height and put on a bright smile that made Eddie melt.
“And what’s your name?” You asked and the boy’s smile matched yours.
“I’m Matt.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Matt,” you put your hand out to shake and he eagerly shook it then gestured for him to come forward. “You know, my friend Rhonda over there has a bunch of snacks with your name on them,” you pointed to the woman behind him who was standing by the snack table. With Eddie’s permission, Matt raced over to her, leaving Eddie and you alone.
“I know it seems weird that I asked you here.”
“Not weird at all.”
“Good,” you nodded, stepping forward. “Because I have an embarrassingly large crush on you.”
“Good,” he responded, stepping closer to you so you were toe to toe. “Because I have an embarrassingly large crush on you too.”
“So I guess maybe we should go out, then? I’m free tomorrow.” He appreciated how forward you were because if asking you out had been left to him, it would have taken him years to do so.
“Me too,” he nodded. “I can get a sitter.” After your quick conversation, you were ushered off to the stage and Eddie just stood there in shock. During the show and even when he went to sleep, your words just kept ringing in his head. You actually liked him and even asking him out on a date. He was begging to think that maybe, just maybe someone up there liked him.
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lewisvinga · 2 hours
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sneaky link | jude bellingham x sainz! reader
summary; y/n knew it wasn’t the best idea to sneak jude in while her family was out at dinner. but she couldn’t help but risk it despite her overprotective brother
warnings; cursing
word count; 956
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3 @fall-bambi
note; before you all ask no i’m not okay w the kroos news
masterlist !
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
“Oh shit,” Y/n mumbled as she heard multiple cars pull up into her driveway. She quickly gets up from Jude’s lap and looks out her bedroom window. She mentally curses when she sees the cars of her parents, brother, and sister in the driveway.
“What happened?” He asked curiously, lifting his head from her pillow.
She picked up his white t-shirt and zip-up hoodie from her makeup chair and chucked it at him. “My family came back earlier than expected. Hurry! Put your clothes back on!”
A laugh escaped from his lips as he sat up on her bed. He sets his phone down and catches his clothes. “You weren’t complainin’ 5 minutes ago when you were on my lap and-“
“Yes you’re very hot and as much as I appreciate you shirtless,” Y/n huffed, watching her brother shut the door to his Ferrari. “My brother wouldn’t.”
“I swear he’ll like me.”
“Just because you play for Real Madrid doesn’t guarantee that Carlos won’t go all crazy big brother on you.”
“Yeah but-“
“Y/n!” Her mother’s voice called out for her from the bottom of the stairs. “We came early and brought back dessert. Come down to the backyard!”
Y/n and Jude shared the same wide-eyed look. Whenever he visited especially late at night, the backyard patio was where he usually snuck out since there were cameras in the front door. With her whole family outside, it would be more difficult to get him out.
She hears the back door open and close, meaning they’re all outside. “You can get out from the side-“ She turned back to face her boyfriend and noticed he was still shirtless. “Stop distracting me!”
Jude couldn’t hold back his laugh from her panicked face. She glared at him as he wiped the tears from his eyes, taking deep breaths to try to stop laughing. “Okay, okay, fine! I’m sorry.” He said in between laughs, putting on his white shirt.
“I don’t know why you’re so worried though. I’ve met your mom already.”
Y/n sighed and grabbed her ugg slippers. “My mom. You’ve met my mom. Not my brother or dad.” She mumbled in reply. She remembered the time she brought a boy home when she was 15. Boy did her brother scare him away. Ever since then, she swore she wouldn’t bring a guy around Carlos not until she knew he was ready to see his baby sister be an adult.
“He can’t be that bad.”
She gave him a glare and he raised his hands up in defense. She grabbed his hand as she slowly opened her bedroom door. She looks down the lengthy halls before quietly and carefully dragging him towards the staircase.
“Now, keep quiet because I don’t need Carlos seeing you,” Y/n whispers to Jude who nods in response. They made it to the bottom of the staircase and were about to rush towards the side doors when a familiar voice stopped them.
“Don’t need me seeing who?”
The couple froze in their spots, both too scared to turn around. She felt her heart stop for a second when Carlos cleared his throat again. “Y/n.” His voice was stern.
She gulped and slowly turned around. She stood in front of Jude but that did little due to his height. She was met with her brother's stern gaze. His jaw was clenched, clearly unhappy at the sight of his baby sister with a boy.
Carlos knew who Jude was. Being a Madridista since birth meant he knew every player, especially one who helped them win the league. The Ferrari driver was a fan of the English player, at least he was until he saw him standing behind Y/n.
“He was just leaving-“
“Why is he here?”
“Hello, Jude, nice to meet you,” Jude said with a smile. He held his hand out but Y/n immediately slapped it down. “What? I’m trying to be nice!”
She glanced back at her brother and took a step closer to him. “Por favor, Carlos. No hagas de esto un gran problema.” [please, carlos. don’t make this a big problem] She quietly said. “Has hablado bien de él. No cambies tu opinión ahora solo porque el es mi novio [you’ve talked good things about him. don’t change your opinion now just because he’s my boyfriend]
Her eyes were wide and her eyebrows were furrowed up, showing how much she wanted her brother to be calm about her relationship. Jude was confused as he stared at the Sainz siblings. He only knew so much Spanish and certainly not to the extent of understanding all of what his girlfriend said.
Carlos lets out a deep sigh as he gently pats her arm. “Vale.” [okay] He says after thinking for a few seconds. “So what, is he your sneaky link?”
His words caused Y/n to gasp as the English player bursted into laughter once again. “Carlos! I just said he’s my boyfriend!” She exclaimed, ignoring the feeling of her face burning up as her boyfriend balanced himself on her and tried to stop laughing.
“Why’re you sneaking him out?”
“Because of you!”
Jude takes a deep breath before standing back up straight. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout sneaking behind your back. It did kinda seem like I was her sneaky link.” He said with a smile, gently poking her cheek.
Carlos gave him a glare which made the Real Madrid’s player smile fall. The Ferrari driver immediately smiled before pulling him into a side hug. “Oye, no more sneaking around with my sister. You’re an amazing player on the pitch and just because you’ve saved us many times doesn’t mean I’ll be easy on you for dating my sister.”
“Got it, no more sneaky link meet-ups.”
“Jude!”
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dilfluvr22 · 2 days
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Draco Malfoy Oneshot ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
Prompt: Draco is very shy around you but finally musters up the courage to ask you out.
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Draco Lucius Malfoy is a boy known all across Hogwarts for being snarky, rude, and constantly threatening to go to his father when things don't go his way. He is everything but shy and will blurt out whatever comes to his mind. Except, you notice, when you are near. You've never particularly been a fan of Draco because you always assumed that he hates your guts. Every time you walk into a room that he's in, he automatically shuts up and he and all his friends get extremely quiet.
Your growing suspicion was shot down when you were browsing the library one day and overhear none other than Pansy, Blaise, and Draco bickering in one of the aisles. You decided to listen in, hoping to get some kind of idea what Draco was like, since you never experienced his snarkiness firsthand- seeing how he always quieted down at your presence.
"Oh come on, man, we all see the way you look at y/n! You won't shut up about her, just ask her out!" You overhear Blaise whispering rather loudly
"Shut up! You're being so loud!" Pansy whisper-screams, not much quieter than Blaise. "But I agree, Draco. You should ask her to go to Hogsmeade with you this weekend."
"No way! You two have gone mental." Draco states in a normal tone. You hear shuffling, and hear them keep talking amongst themselves as they exit the library. You realize now, that you've been wrong all along.
Draco doesn't hate you, he likes you
And oh boy are you gonna have fun with this.
A few days pass, and you haven't heard anything from Draco. You begin to wonder if you had imagined the whole thing, or if you had just heard wrong in the library and they were talking about someone else. You did notice a slight change in Draco's behavior, though. You would catch him sneaking glances at you during class, making eye contact for a split second before he quickly looks at the ground or starts examining what's on the table in front of him. You find this rather entertaining, but begin to get impatient.
A couple days later in potions, Snape announces that there will be a partner assignment and that he will allow everyone to pick their own partners. You sit there for a second, looking around to see If anybody is available for partnering, when you notice Draco slowly approach you from your side and feel him tap your shoulder. You smile softly to yourself and turn to face him.
"Hey, y/n, would you like to be partners?" He asks, trying to appear confident and careless but you can tell from his body language that he is everything but.
You wanted to tease him a bit, so you stood for a second in silence, as if pondering, then state your final decision.
"Yeah, that would be great!" You say happily, smiling brightly at the blonde. You pretend not to notice the slight smile that creeps up the side of his mouth, but it's about the first thing you notice after you said that.
This was a win-win situation for you. For one, this is the perfect opportunity to mess with Draco, and two, you're not very good at potions, so being partnered up with someone who is, is a major bonus. As you warn Draco about this, he seemed more than happy to explain everything he was doing.
It was surprising, how patient he is explaining the steps of making the potion Snape had assigned, pausing if you had any questions and even giving some examples to help you understand fully.
And he was being so nice, and the way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, how he mixed the ingredients with ease, showing complete understanding of the material, how he brushes his platinum blonde hair out of his face while he works. You realized, then, that maybe you didn't just want to toy with Draco's emotions
Maybe you just wanted to be his.
The entire class with Draco was filled with sneaky glances at each other and subtle touches and it was driving you insane.
"Hey y/n, I was wondering if you could meet me in the courtyard before dinner starts? I have something important I need to speak to you about" Draco asked once class was over and everyone began packing their belongings.
This caught you off guard, but you agreed, intrigued by what he could want to say. "yeah, sounds great" you replied with a smile.
Once dinner rolls around, you find yourself rushing to get to the courtyard, finding Draco under a large tree shaded with thick branches and leaves. He smiles and appears excited at your arrival, relaxing your nerves a bit. Draco also seems very nervous, as do you. Once you walk up to him and greet him, he immediately gets to talking.
"listen y/n I understand this all seems so sudden, but I love you. I've loved you since I seen you in 2nd year and I've always wanted to talk to you but I've never found the guts in me to actually do it and I'm so sorry for having been too much of a coward, but I want to ask you if you would do me the honor and be my girlfriend?" Draco finished with a large breath.
You stood there a moment, trying to grasp everything he just said. It made no sense, how have you been so blind? How have you not noticed that for years Draco fancied you and you took it as him hating your guts for no apparent reason?
And because of recent events, you figured that Draco must like you, but love? He seems genuinely head over heels for you.
Draco had taken your momentary silence as a sign of rejection, because he turned and began walking towards the castle, when you reached and grabbed his arm. You spun him around quickly, and without much thought smashed your lips against his.
It was a slow and meaningful kiss. His lips felt very soft against your own and you could feel from the kiss the genuineness of his feelings and you realized then that, beneath those ugly layers of hate and snark remarks, is a beautiful boy who just loves too hard.
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nanaminokanojo · 1 day
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ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | part 18
-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur
CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters
GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw
TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises
MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX
<<prev part 18 next>>
A/N: This contains prose and panels in between. Same for Part 19. This part is just too long to put on screenshots.
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If looks could kill, Haibara Yu will be on the kitchen floor in a pool of his own blood with the way Sukuna was looking at him like he was going to pop a vein on his forehead. It was almost comical since he was holding onto a bottle of strawberry milk and looked like he was about to squeeze it broken with how tight his fists were.
“Man, she seems different from the stories is all I'm saying.”
Sukuna eyed him enquiringly, a menacing hint to it as he breathed out slowly. As far as he was concerned, he never heard any bad rumor about you. “What stories?” He noted the defensive note in his tone, his protective side coming out.
“You heard me.” Yu lifted his shoulders slightly to express uncertainty. “She gets invited to all the parties but she declines all of them and everyone thinks she’s a two-faced snob. And I also heard someone claiming that she said she doesn't mix with commoners.”
It explained why Sukuna has never seen you in any of the parties he has been in. He only knew you from school, and if he did see you at any party, he wouldn’t have passed up the opportunity to approach you at least once. He knew himself, and he appreciated beauty. But maybe that was for the better because then, you probably wouldn’t have liked to be in the same breathing space as him with the way he acts in those gatherings.
His facial muscles suddenly rearranged into a scowl, causing the other male to back away. “Who said that?” he hissed. He couldn’t accept what he was hearing. At the same time, he doesn’t understand where the irritation was coming from. He just can’t take it hearing the slander being thrown at you. You didn’t deserve it at all.
“Do those people even realize how busy she is?”
“Dude, I just heard that.”
“I know, but she’s the real deal. Don’t go listening to what those pricks at school are saying. She’s the kindest person I’ve ever known. She’s so nice to me. Me!”
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“Figures,” Yu said slowly, smirking.
“Go talk to her. Get to know her. You’ll get the proof you want,” Sukuna challenged but Yu shook his head. “If she’s being nice to evil little Ryomen, then that’s proof enough.”
"You wanna die?"
"Man, I believe you! Geez!"
Sukuna still shot Yu a dirty look as he walked back to the living room, unable to wrap his head around the fact that there were actually people who disliked you. It made him sick.
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TAG LIST: @catobsessedlady @kyo-kyo1 @junehasnotbeenfound @lavender-hvze @guacam011y @eyered @hellomeow12 @its-princessmara @light-yagami-l @domainofmarie @mythoscalliope @noble-17 @pheonix-eclipses @weebbuscuit @sukunasbudussy @lu-c1na @vinnieswife @the-haitani-baton @iaminyourfloors @needtoloveoutloud @r-ryuko09 @somestardeww @swirlingcurses @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @bronze-metal @iluv-ace
© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240520]
PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.
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Goddess, I need your help! I was attending to my duties and I was exposed to some pink mist I haven’t seen before?
It’s making me feel… hot. Horny. I can’t think straight, all I know is that I need to be used, over and over again until this feeling fades! Please!
(Kinks: aphrodisiac, heat, overstimulation, edging/denial, light pet play, free use)
“Oh dear, I’m not sure exactly what this was. Could be the Librarian or our new Alchemist trying out some new ideas that backfired. Let me get a look at you.” I take your face in my hands and lift you from the ground. Your legs shake, threatening to give out. Your cock is rock hard and dripping pre-cum.
“Well, no doubts about it. You’re in heat, and from the looks of it a pretty strong one. Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to lay down, dick up, and let the worshippers use you to their hearts content. I’ll have to deal with this cloud of aphrodisiac, so I won’t be able to help, besides, when I fuck someone with others present, they tend to give me space and let me do what I need to do.”
“That won’t help. What you need it to be fucked by as many people as possible. But there’s one thing to remember. No matter what happens or how good you feel, you can’t cum unless you absolutely cannot hold it in any longer. A strong enough orgasm will knock you out of this, but if you don’t cum hard enough you might be stuck until you’ve recharged. Understood.”
You could barely listen. The only thing going through your mind was the thought of Elira pinning you down and using your cock as a dildo. However, you got the gist of it: get fucked by a lot of worshipers and hold in your orgasm as long as possible. You nod.
“Good. I’ll let everyone know what’s happening so they can help you and anyone else hit by the cloud. Now be a good boy and follow orders.” Your cock twitches as you lay down. You followed orders like a good boy. You needed to keep being a good boy.
As Elira ran down the hall, you immediatly started to whine. You were twitching and throbbing, all needy. Still, you followed her orders for however long it took for a few worshipers to find you. It felt like an hour, but in what parts of your rational mind you had left you figured that it was only a few minutes,
"Look, there he is." The two worshipers run over to you, still draped in their sheer vestiges. Their faces were painted with worry. "Hey, Goddess let everyone know what was happening. Are you okay?"
You groan and twitch. "Fuck... Need... Need to be used. P-please!~"
The worry on their faces turn to arrousal. "Wow, seems like we came across a nice little boy toy. Don't worry, we'll make you all better, dear, right?"
"Of course" the other worshiper replies, taking her vestments off and stepping over you. She lowers herself downward to your hard cock, her pussy dripping with anticipation. A drop of her slick hits your cock and you gasp, your body tensing up. "Aww, what a cutie. So needy. Here it comes~"
She takes you into her wet, warm pussy with a moan, and you have to hold yourself back from thrusting into you. You're a good boy and you follow orders. Your mistresses were in control.
"What a good boy! Now open your mouth for me." You look up to see your other mistress stradling hour face, her delicious pussy hanging over you. You open your mouth and she sits down on your face, her scent and taste nearly overwhelming you. Your cock pulses hard.
"Hey, no! You remember what Goddess said, don't you? No cumming until you can't hold it anymore. You'll have to wait a long time before you let you." You whine and clench your cock tight, keeping your seed inside.
"That's it, toy. Now lick my pussy like you need it to survive." You felt like you did need it to survive. In desperation, you run your tongue up an down her slit, making her laugh out a moan. "Yes, just like that. Good boy." The taste drives you insane with lust and you involuntarily buck your hips into the other worshiper's pussy.
"Oh! My you're such a needy thing." She starts to shift and grind on your dick, placing her hand on your stomach to keep you flat on the ground. "You're like a dog in heat."
The worshiper on your face giggles. "You're right, he is like a dog." You start to whine and lick her pussy faster. "*Augh*~ He even licks me like a dog. Hey, you wanna be our dog? Our cute little fuck puppy for the day?" You nod beneath her weight. "Aww, he said yes."
"A good dog knows their place, so stay down and let us use you." You whine in affirmation. "Good boy! I think you deserve a reward." She lists herself up on your dick and slams herself down with a hearty *PLAP!* You cry out in joy as the two girls laugh and continue riding you.
The plump ass cheeks in your face block your view, but from the sounds they are making you can tell they're getting off. "Mmm, fuck he's so hard. It's addorable how much we turn him on."
"Give him a little credit, he breathed in an aphrodesiac. It's not like he can help himself."
"Don't tell me you think he wouldn't be such a subby, needy mess if we decided to leash him up and keep him."
The girl on your face giggles. "You're right. He seems like a good dog who lives to please. But it's not like you couldn't get most of the subs here to worship you, what with that pretty face of yours."
"Oh, what a flirt. Come here." You her yelp in surprise and feel her weight shift on your face before the sounds of a sloppy makeout begin above you. The girl on your dick pushes herself further onto you, squeezing your dick tight. The sound of the kiss breaks with a gasp.
The girl on your face pouts. "No... please keep kissing me!~ Puppy's gonna make me cum and I want your tongue in my mouth when I do." The feeling of being simultaniously used and disregarded gets you off. You were their plaything.
"Okay sweetie. Puppy, you had better make her cum soon or you can kiss my pussy goodbye." You start to press your tongue hard on her clit and she moans. Her moan is quickly swallowed up by the other worshiper grabbing her face and stuffing her mouth with tongue.
Within seconds, you can feel the wetness accumulating on your face start to drip more and more as her moans gorw higher in pitch. Soon, she cums all over your face, drenching you in her sweet fluids. You lap it all up like the good puppy you were, savoring every drop. When she finishes cumming, she lifts herself off your face.
She leans down to your face and presses her lips against and kisses you. Your cock pulses, but you still keep your cum in. You had to. It was their order. She removes her lips from yours, a slimy strand of spit connecting your tongues before she smiles and breaks it. "Good boy! Good puppy!"
You hear some more footsteps coming from down the hall and the two girls turn to see another worshiper come down. "Ah, I finally found someone. Do you guys need help?"
The girl who just kissed you smirks and walks over to the new girl. "No, but I'm sure that if you can't find anyone else then its probably fine." She grabs the new girl and pulls her into a deep kiss. They pull apart and look at eachother with lust
The girl riding your cock bites her lip at the scene and starts to rub her clit. "I'm close, so you can use this puppy's dick when I'm done."
She nods her head and gives a lewd smile. "Sounds like fun."
You breath hard at the words shared between the three above you. You couldn't contain yourself. Your abdomen clenches up. "*Ungh~*, Mistress, I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna-"
You are cut off by a finger in your mouth. "Don't be so rude, puppy. This beautiful piece of ass wants to use you while your still in heat. Puppy doesn't get to cum until she's satisfied. Understood?" You nod, tongue getting covered in the taste of her juces that were still on her finger. You lick at her didget and she smirks at you. "That's right, keep sucking that finger you fucking slut. Make me cum while you look at me with desperation."
You whine and buck your hips as she bites her lip, looking down on you like a queen does to a peasent. eventually, she speeds up her riding and throws her head back. The new girl has begun touching herself, getting wet for you, and she leans over and kisses the girl on your cock. Her pussy clenches and she squirts all over your dick, continuing to ride and making you have to concentrate on not cumming.
Finally, she gets off of you and you wait for the next girl to sit on you. "Oh puppy!~" you hear above you. You look up to see the last worshipper bending over and spreading her cunt wide for you. "Why don't you come here and hump me like the feral animal you are."
You jump up and rush to her, shoving your dick inside and humping her. She moans and squeeks in ecstacy. "Yes!~ Keep going. Make your mistress cum for you and maybe I'll let you fill me." Her words only make you move faster. She reaches around you and strokes your hair. "Mmm, puppy's cock feel good in my pussy?"
"Yes mistress!~"
"Hehe, good boy. This is where you belong: inside your superiors to please them. Fuck me harder." You pull back and jab into her deep. "AH!~ That's a good fucking puppy!~" You can feel your body straining against itself to not cum. You need to slow down to keep yourself from bursting, but...
"No! No slowing down! Fuck your mistress as fast as you can!" You heed her instructions and go as fast as possible. Her pussy clenches around you cock and she starts to shake from an orgasm. You can't hold back either, your cock bursting and shooting cum. You fervorously hump her until you're empty and she's shaking in delight.
After it all ends, you collapse back onto the ground. The immeasurable heat in your body subsides as you breathe heavily. But before you can catch your breath, a foot presses against your still hard cock. "I don't remember saying you could cum."
You open your eyes and see all three of your recent mistresses standing over you. They look down on you with a range of pittying and sadistic glances. "We're gonna have to make you understand your error. Sorry puppy."
"Just look at it this way. You wanted to cum so bad, now we're going to make you cum over and over again until you beg us to stop."
You swallow hard at the idea of being milked absolutely dry by these women. But you don't protest. You are a good boy who follows orders. And when you fail to follow orders, you get overstimmed until you can't think anymore. That was just part of the job.
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eightlightstar · 2 days
Text
Fortune
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word count: 800 (exactly) warnings: corny, extreme attempts to mention every single svt title track genre: fluff, drunken confession (but by seungkwan), getting-together
"Good fortune", answered Mingyu, as he looked directly into your eyes. You flushed a deep red and were about to divert the attention away from you when a loud groan startled you.
"Isn't this as good as a confession?" slurred Seungkwan, clearly drunk and filter-less.
"Seungkwan-ah, shut up!" hissed Jeonghan, but he wouldn't relent.
"Y/n, I need to get this off my chest today or my head will explode!" he screamed into your face.
"Wh-what is this about?" you asked hesitantly.
"Y/n don't believe a word he says," pleaded Mingyu and made sure to include those puppy eyes, which were always like a sucker-punch to your gut.
"He loves you Y/n! Mingyu fucking adores you! He thinks you're the prettiest person he's ever seen and the first time you approached him, he did a wholeass cheerleading routine while screaming how happy he was!! It was all very nice but after befriending you, he was like "My heart goes boomboom as soon as I lay my eyes on her oh my what do I do!!" And he said this every single day!
Mingyu had leaped across the table in an attempt to cover Seungkwan's mouth, but you were quicker in getting both yourself and Seungkwan out of the way just in time.
"Y/n??" Mingyu asked in disbelief as he dusted himself off and got up from the ground.
"Nooo! I wanna hear moree!" you squeaked and Seungkwan launched into yet another monologue.
"When he heard you had a boyfriend, we asked him to cry it out and forget about you, but he was like "I don't wanna cry and I don't want to forget her!".
Seokmin chimed in this time, "You might remember this. That time your boyfriend didn't come to watch your solo dance performance and you were sad? And Mingyu had clapped and screamed the loudest despite it being a little too silent in the auditorium?"
"Oh yeah! I thanked him but then he froze up and ran away! I wondered if he had a fear of talking to girls or something lol", you supplied.
"Y/n…", Mingyu whined and weakly hit your shoulder. You flashed him a smile and gestured to Seungkwan and Seokmin to continue.
"And then when he scored that home run during the finals, he kept looking left and right to see if you were in the stands and watching him. But to his shock and surprise, there you were on the ground, head cheerleader and cheering for him the loudest! Boy was ready to love you from that moment!" said Seokmin while patting Mingyu's head.
"Oh! I have a confession about this", you said shyly. "I actually applied to be a cheerleader to cheer for Mingyu from the field rather than from the bleachers. It was a stroke of luck that I became head cheerleader and got to go onto the field with Mingyu, the baseball captain" you said and covered your face with your hands.
"F*ck my life why didn't I know this?" shrieked your friend Jennifer from the corner.
"Anyway, after that, he wrote a song called "Rock With You" and sang it at the college festival where he was sure you understood that the song was definitely for you. Had you?", asked Seungkwan accusatorily.
"Of course I did! I didn't know he could write songs and stuff and he looked so hot with that electric guitar so yeah, I got it, thank you very much", you claimed haughtily.
Mingyu snickered and came closer to you and casually put a hand around your shoulder.
"Even I didn't know I could do that until I decided it was about my feelings for you and it just flowed from there. I should really thank the god of music for putting that song into my brain and composing the melody through me like a super maestro", Mingyu said to you as your friends made gagging noises.
"Anyway," tried saying Seungkwan, when Mingyu interrupted him.
"I'll take it from here thanks," he said and turned to you.
"I really do adore you as you must already know from these anecdotes. And I want to show you exactly how much because I think of you as my whole world. I want my days to begin with you and my nights to end with you. So, will you please do me the honour of becoming my girlfriend Y/n?"
"I feel the same about you Mingyu. And I don't think I can speak beautiful words like you do so I hope this is enough to convey what I have to say", you say and move to kiss him.
As he reciprocates your loving kiss with a fervour he had never felt before, Mingyu muses to himself, 'Now this is what I call good fortune'.
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gimmeyourlovepls · 21 hours
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Hiii idk if your requests are full or not, but if you're free can you write Miles Morales, where he was in love with the reader since they were kids, and now they're in their teens, but he doesn't know if she feels the same?
Doesn't matter which one, thanks! (⁠。⁠・⁠ω⁠・⁠。⁠)⁠ノ⁠♡
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Spider Senses
summary: miles wishes his spider senses showed him whether you liked him or not
a/n: i hope u like this :)) (p.s. my requests are very empty pls fill)
content warning: female reader, but it doesnt really affect the plot, hair described to smell like vanilla and cocoa butter, no texture described though, reader shown to wear makeup
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a six year old was playing in the sandbox at a local playground, building a sandcastle. she giggled as she placed a small stick on the top of her sandcastle before some kids running as they played a game ran towards her. she managed to not get trampled by them, but her structure was ruin. tears started running down her cheeks.
"hey, are you ok?" a small child stood before her, his wide brown eyes staring down in concern. he had coily dark hair, and was holding a wrapped popsicle in his hand.
"my sandcastle..." she sputtered out, wiping her tears. it took her a while and she was disappointed that it was destroyed after all her hard work.
"don't cry! my mommy says that crying is bad, it gives you wrinkles," he spoke, looking around for a solution. "here! take my popsicle, and stop being sad, ok? you can't be all wrinkly!" handing her the package in her sandy little hands, her tears almost immediately stopped.
"yay! you're my friend now, come meet my mommy!" standing up on tiny legs, shaking so some sand falls off her already dirty dress, she took his hand and started walking to her mom, who was already staring at the scene with a smile, along with the boys mom, who was exchanging phone numbers with her for future playdates.
"mommy, this is my new friend!" letting go of his hand, she presented him to her mom, smiling brightly as the boy looked up at her with a nervous smile.
"aw, thats nice baby, do you know his name?" the mother asked, looking down at him with a kind smile.
the girl paused. did he ever tell her his name? "duh mommy, his name is..." she looked at the boy, whispering into his ear, "whats your name?" He whispered back to her, the two mothers laughing at the sight. "his name is miles, mommy! he gave me a popsicle!"
the mother glanced at miles. "well nice to meet you honey. i'm this little chipmunk's mom." she ticked the little girl gently as the child squirmed, giggling.
"mom, I'm not a chipmunk!" she pouted, looking up at the amused woman. "i'm a big girl now," she muttered, not wanting to be embarrassed in front of her new friend.
"i'm sorry honey, you're a big girl," her mom said, laughing softly. miles grabbed the girl's hand before pointing at the playground, where there was an empty pair of swings.
"look! the swings are free, lets go swing!" the duo ran through the woodchips towards the swings before they were taken, and luckily they made it before anyone else did.
as they started swinging, the girl opened the slightly melted popsicle, and gasped as she saw it was one of those double ones. with the most precision a six year old can muster, she split the popsicle and handed one side to him with a grin. "now we can share!"
the two mothers looked at the kids with a smile. they could tell this friendship was gonna be a good one.
---
flopping onto miles' bed, you take out your phone and show him a picture. "can we please go here miles? look how cute the food is!" on your phone screen, you were showing him picture after picture of a little cafe that opened not too far from his place.
"i dunno, the food looks cute for sure," he mutters, and you perk up. "but money..." you deflate immediately.
"c'mon, please? you know I get paid from ganke next week for helping him with homework, i'll pay you back!" staring at him with puppy dog eyes always broke down his (very small) defenses he held up against you. this little, ok well, not that little crush he held on you was making him basically silly puddy in your hands.
"you ain't gotta do that, i'll pay sunflower," he mumbles, sitting up. Seeing the smile that immediately lights up your face makes it worth the fact that those new markers and jordans he was saving up for would probably have to wait another month (or maybe two, since your birthday was coming up soon).
glancing at his floor as he looked for his shoes, he saw a drawing he had made of you about a week ago. he wasn't biased, but he thought it was one of his best works. you, surrounded in sunflowers and a smile shining from your face, he knew he was done for.
he was a broke boy in love.
---
you sat in front of miles, grabbing what looked like a torture device with a grin as you held his face still with one hand. "miles, hold still!"
"no, this is gonna kill me!"
you pouted, shifting closer to him. "its just my eyelash curler, now hold still!" you held it closer to his face as winced, trying to stay as still as possible. "there, almost done, last is the lips!"
as you scrambled to go get your lip gloss and lip liner, he wondered why he hadn't confessed yet. it was almost the 10 year anniversary of that playground meeting, and he swore he would tell you a year ago, but then again, he also said that the year before that one.
he looked down at the breakfast on his wrist, the black and red a perfect setting for the silver spider charm that sat perfectly in the middle. although you have (hopefully) not learned about secret alter ego, you said it fit his "vibe."
he just took your word for it with a nervous smile.
you came back with new supplies to decorate his face with, and as he saw the smile on your face, he swore he would tell you soon.
....maybe.
---
you hugged him tightly as you stood at the front door of his house, about to walk home. your hair smelled like vanilla and cocoa butter, and he wanted to bury his face into you (but in a non-creepy way, or course).
it was close to the last day of high school, and you and him were going separate ways, he wanted to go to one uni, and it wasn't the one for you. he was gonna miss your late night talks on the roof, splitting meat patties every friday, the way you dragged your fingers through his hair gently as you rambled about anything and everything.
he still hadn't told you he was spider-man, but now definitely wasn't the time. looking down at the well-worn bracelet on his wrist, he didn't know if he would even get around to it. maybe when he came to visit you?
kicking rocks on the sidewalk distracted him on his walk back home distracted him from his thoughts until-
bang!
he heard a clash of screams and destruction as he spun around to see a cloud of dust in the direction he just left from. whats going on?
thankful for the amount of alleyways in this side of town, he slipped off his normal clothes to reveal his suit and swung over buildings to assess before diving straight in, from his experience, not doing that normally led to a longer talk with the police.
ugh, some stupid new villain of the week. easy stuff. swing in, save citizens, then knock them out. as he webbed people out of the way, he spotted the one person he didn't want to be in the chaos.
"sunflower?" he gasped, and immediately as your face snapped to him, he knew he messed up. he'd play that off later, but for now, he had to act. quickly scooping you up in his arms, he dropped you on a roof of a building, quickly deepening his voice. "c-citizen, stay up here, ill... come back and get you, just-"
you grabbed his wrist with a stern look on your face. "you better not leave me up here, miles." he nodded quickly before running to go fight off the latest villain, who was apparently mad because the "love of her life" left her for university. 'join the club...' he thought before he dived down.
---
as he handed the lady to the police, he thought back to you on the roof, and your words.
'you better not leave me up here, miles.'
you had called him miles.... dammit, you knew. he groaned softly, before swinging back to the roof he left you on, seeing you play games on your phone. "took you long enough, bug-boy." you mumbled, slipping the device into your pocket.
"dont play me, sunflower. you know. you knew. how long?" he spoke, fiddling with his thumbs.
"um, lemme think... the day before i brought you that bracelet. i was waiting for you to tell me, but..." you look away from him with a small frown, biting the inside of your lip. he knew you only did that when u were thinking hard.
" 'm sorry, i was gonna but... i didn't."
"well... were you also gonna tell me that you like me?"
miles started choking on his spit, pulling up his mask to reveal his whole face. "w-what? y-you- what?"
"i saw the drawing on your floor. you made me look so... pretty." you stared at your shoes with that same smile as miles had captured in his drawing, suddenly finding your tangled laces interesting.
"you are pretty," he mumbled, staring at you, he could almost see the sunflowers blooming around you. "wish i said something before uni."
"yeah... but its not too late to do this, right?"
before he could ask what, your arms were wrapping around his shoulders as you met him in a sweet kiss, and damn it felt like everything he imagined and so much more.
"so... you like me?" miles looked at you with a boyish smile as you rolled your eyes.
"you're lucky i do," you said before you kissed him again, his arms finally moving to wrap around you. you were right though.
he was the luckiest boy he knew.
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over 2 weeks on this i might jump 💀
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