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#not even mentioning the jet tags :((
the-valiant-valkyrie · 2 months
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aromantic spectrum awareness week? well, that makes perfect sense. i think agent phoenix (aromantic, romance repulsed) should absolutely be aware of solaris (demiromantic, romance neutral) rapidly approaching their location. to kill them. violently.
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Passenger Princess - Max Verstappen
Summary: Some moments between Max and his passenger princess
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Y/n had briefly mentioned she wasn't really the best driver and since Max drives for a living, he's always been happy to let her take the passenger seat and drive for them.
Not that he isn't curious. But equally y/n is one of the best passenger princess' he's ever known. That could just be because he would choose her company over anyone else in the world and can't imagine enjoying anyone else in that position.
"Schat, time to go." Max smiles as he finds y/n with Daniel and Lando since she'd been killing time waiting for her boyfriend to be done with whatever he was going.
"Aww are you taking my best friend away?" Daniel jokes as y/n greets Max with a kiss.
"And now I feel single from witnessing the two of you, I'll be on my way." Lando states earning a hum before he takes off while Daniel does steal a hug before also leaving him.
Once the couple is left on their own Max doesn't waste much time getting them to his car, opening the car door for her which earns him a kiss of thanks from the young woman before she slides into the leather seats.
Gently closing the door for her, he moves around to the driver's seat and climbs in too, smiling when he sees y/n has already kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs up, crossed in the seat.
"Seatbelt, schat." Max states earning a soft smile and making her quickly yank the seatbelt clicking it into place. "Do you just want to go for a bit of a drive?"
"Always." Y/n beams making him hum beginning to reverse from the parking space. "Music."
Y/n pokes the glove box open and pulls out some gum gently putting some in Max's mouth for him before slumping back down in the seat.
Max usually prefers to not spend hours and hours driving around killing time, but when y/n is there. He loves spending time with her. Loves seeing her and spending time with her undisturbed. Not something he can say is so easy to achieve elsewhere.
"You looked great out there. So so good." Y/n declares earning a smile. "I keep getting tagged in loads and loads of posts about how you look so godly after races. Standing up on those podiums."
"Oh yeah?" Max laughs since y/n has no shame in bragging endlessly about her boyfriend, his success and how unreal he looks standing up on the podium, the medal, the biggest trophy and higher above the others.
Just the mental images that rush through her mind get her feeling the rush.
"If I wasn't so sure that you love me, I'd let jealousy get the better of me."
"Schat, you are very secure in this relationship. But you get jealous any time a woman is within arms reach."
Y/n rolls her eyes, she isn't ashamed of her jealousy about Max. She knows how good she has it with him, he loves and takes care of her and she tries at every opportunity to return the favour.
"They know I exist. It's not too much to ask for them to not get in your space." Y/n grumbles while he looks at her for a moment in amusement.
"See you cannot even contain your jealousy just thinking about it."
"Alright, well I appreciate them for giving me content that I would otherwise not have immediate access too." Y/n grins as feel Max's hand come over to her thigh, squeezing the exposed skin.
-
Max rarely choose to drive from Nice airport, but sometimes he just likes the drive. Especially when y/n is tired.
Today is one of those days, getting her out of the private jet and he's known she's exhausted. He's not entirely sure why but she definitely got the giveaway tired eyes.
"Come on, schat. Let's get home." Max smiles as y/n feels herself pulled up onto her feet by him. Purposely getting her up on her feet as a test of how tired she is.
"Mmm...Max, I'm too tired, stop it." Y/n whines immediately. Her hands grabbing at him till he's scooped her up and is carrying her out of the jet.
He smiles feeling her face hide in his neck, though she can't stop herself from placing a kiss on his skin.
He sighs managing to get her sat in the passenger seat and buckle her in, she's still awake and manages a lazy smile at him but he's certain watching her kick off her shoes that she has no intention of being conscious for the drive to Monaco.
"Talk to me. I want to hear your voice." Y/n murmurs making him smile a little as her as she moves her hand to link with his own. It's another giveaway that she will be falling asleep quickly.
Max begins talking, able to talk about all sorts of things that he can think of. Not worried about any of it making sense or sounding ridiculous since y/n hums and murmurs in weak responses, seemingly trying to fight her body on succumbing to the sleeps.
"Schat, do you want me to call the chef ask him to come over for making some food?" Max whispers making her lift her head as if she's confused over the words that just came out his mouth. "Food. Do you want food?"
"Yeah, I want food please." Y/n yawns, huffing slightly as Max squeezes her hand before lifting it up to kiss the back of it which earns a smile.
-
Max driving cars around tracks as part of the content side of the job isn't uncommon. But usually it features Perez. However this time they decided to ask if y/n would surprise Max with an appearance.
However, what they didn't expect was her to pale and look utterly terrified.
Max drives fast for a living but actually when he's driving with y/n in the car, he seems to take much more care with his speed and almost go only a little bit above speed limits. But after reassurance that she would be fine. She agreed to part-take, if only to see Max's reaction.
"Alright, your co-driver is seated. Ready when you are." The marketing girl smiles making Max nod pulling on his helmet and climbing in to see that his co-driver is wearing his helmet design.
Y/n turns grinning at him and the look of surprise is well worth the multiple cameras from all different angles.
"You are my co-driver?"
"Yeah, I think given my reputation the girls were surprised when I didn't want to be your passenger on this occasion." Y/n jokes as he leans over checking her seatbelts, rebuckling and tightening them a little as she swallows thickly.
"Don't worry. I always take good care of you." Max smiles as she gives a slightly nervous smile. "You'll be fine."
After double checking her seatbelts, he buckles himself in before starting the engine and laughs seeing her jump just at the engine revving.
"Alright, lets get going." Max smiles pulling off the clutch and hitting the throttle.
Zooming around the track y/n's hand comes up clutching the shoulder of his racing suit as she repeatedly shouts no, only making him laugh.
"Your eyes are closed!" Max exclaims making her whine.
"They were open!" Y/n shouts back then peeking one eye open to realise that he's passing the line and still going. "You're not stopping!"
"No, we are doing a few laps." Max chuckles, he's lying but he wants to see if a few laps earns more faith in his ability to drive and not just crash directly in the wall.
Her grip only tightens giving away that he eyes are definitely open to see what's happening and of course he's eager to really traumatise is girlfriend so he does a few donuts at the end just to make sure she knows she is actually safe.
"I'm never doing this again." Y/n pants when they finally stop. Max clapping a little while she pouts at him. "I think I should be allowed to drive around now."
"You can if you want."
"You're mad, help me out of here." Y/n laughs making Max laugh and nod, he knew he was stretching his luck with that one. "I prefer being your passenger when you are just driving on the road."
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povlnfour · 5 months
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ STUDY BREAK (OP81)
pairing: oscar piastri x f!student!reader
summary: oscar piastri is a formula 1 driver. y/n is an international relations student. her friends find her relationship pretty hard to believe. especially when she can’t tell them any details for you know… nda reasons.
warnings: main characters friends can be jackasses. mentions of international relations for any of my fellow bach survivors who shiver at the mention of the course
* faceclaim: scarlett leithold (but please imagine her as you see fit!)
yourusername just posted a photo *ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourbsf and 276 others
yourusername summer break you were fab
view all comments
yourbsf wow you took international relations literally huh
yourusername call it research
friend1 IS THAT A PRIVATE JET? IS UR DAD RICH RICH?
friend2 girlie where are you getting all this money from i know uni debt is killing you like the rest of us
yourusername rich boyf perks😙
friend2 this ‘boyf’ who we conveniently haven’t met?🤔
oscarpiastri just posted a photo *ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by yourusername, landonorris and 193,209 others
oscarpiastri good company, good racing🤙🏻
view all comments
user luv u oscar
user YOU’LL COME BACK EVEN STRONGER KING
user you seemed so happy today :’)
user ppl are saying he had a girl w him👀
yourusername cutie
friend2 your boyfriend seeing you comment on random celebs posts…🤭
texts with oscar *ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername just posted a photo *ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourbsf and 300 others
yourusername term 1 you’ve been cute
👤 tagged yourbsf, friend1, friend2, friend3
view all comments
friend3 can’t believe ur not in lectures next week bc ur off to go watch cars go vroom vroom 🙄
yourusername gotta support my boy what do you want from me
friend3 sure jan
yourbsf first pic is HOT send it to me rn
friend1 tagged but not pictured… just like ur boyfriend
yourusername just posted stories *ੈ✩‧₊˚
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oscarpiastri just posted a photo *ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by yourusername, landonorris and 194,256 others
oscarpiastri race✔️ time to explore⏳
view all comments
landonorris oscar has rizz?
user your captions say so little yet so much
user HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND????
friend1 @/yourusername ur heart must be breaking
yourusername ????
friend1 he’s got a girllllll
user lando speaks for us all HUH
your group chat *ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername just posted a photo *ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by yourbsf and 361 others
yourusername bit of fun before back to reality :)
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yourbsf look cute who’s your photographer
yourusername os🥰
friend3 girl is the shirt meant to prove something
friend1 i am saying nothing other than ur cute (and delusional)
texts with your best friend *ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername just posted a photo *ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by yourbsf, landonorris and 278 others
yourusername does it count as a date if it’s his full time job?
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friend1 girl… this may be going too far
yourusername literally what do you want from me ????
yourbsf i’m happy to be your third wheel as long as i get maid of honour duties
friend2 don’t encourAGE HER
yourbsf just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by yourusername and 410 others
yourbsf ode to my best friend and her boyfriend (ft. me) who are sickeningly adorable but cause me more stress than is worth it
view all comments
yourusername WHEN DID YOU TAKE THESE
yourbsf WHEN YOU WERE BEING ALL GROSS
yourusername also the pic of us is so cute🥹
yourbsf you weren’t kidding when you said the boy is a good photographer
your group chat ੈ✩‧₊˚
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texts with oscar ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourbsf and 301 others
yourusername more from summer because i miss italy and i miss being trackside
view all comments
friend3 this was a weak attempt to convince us
friend1 bby… just confess it’s okay
oscarpiastri pretty girl
liked by yourusername
friend2 oh
friend1 huh. interesting
your group chat ੈ✩‧₊˚
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oscarpiastri just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by yourusername and 201,456 others
oscarpiastri graduation party or a chance to show off to her friends that i actually exist? who knows. proud of you baby🧡
👤 tagged yourusername, yourbsf, friend1, friend2, friend3
view all comments
user mr piastri i must confess my love for ur girlfriend
friend3 i humbly accept that i was wrong
yourbsf wish i could have taken a photo of their faces when you walked in lmao
user i love her already LOOK AT THAT SMILE
yourusername i lurv uuuuu
landonorris gross go back to being a secret
yourusername gonna make out w him in front of you
landonorris I SWEAR TO GOD Y/N. OSCAR CONTROL YOUR GIRLFRIEND.
oscarpiastri i’ll keep her feisty thanks
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 3,409 others
yourusername a hot boyfriend who exists✔️ a degree✔️ a killer ass✔️
view all comments
oscarpiastri fun fact the last part is only one of my favourite things abt you
yourusername aw you’re so romantic os
oscarpiastri nothing but the best for you
friend1 i can’t believe he exists
friend2 i can’t believe oscar piastri spoke to us
yourusername said with all the love in the world, SUCK MY DICK
user i’ve only just been introduced to this friend group and i already love them
———
a/n: first oscar post EEEE
this was meant to be a lando one shot first but author is: in hospital, so i hope this is okay for now😭
taglist (found HERE): @iluvvmeeee @champagnelovers101 @alessioayla @idkiwantchocolatee @skatingiswalkingincursive @six-call @he6rtshaker @hobiismyhopeu @tallrock35 @sunflower-golden-vol6 @woozarts @minkyungseokie @vellicora @tsukishitm-a @lucyysthings
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caesium-55 · 1 month
Text
—seven days. [ vi.iii ]
pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.
summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.
author's note: updating bc i love yall. lol jk i dont want to study for my engineering management long quiz yet. sum1 yell at me to start studying or smth.
tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal
masterlist.
The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2021 is a little dramatic in Max’s opinion. Some would say controversial. A lot of restarts. The issue with the safety car. Hamilton and Verstappen goes neck to neck. 369.5 points to 369.5. In the end, Verstappen overtakes Hamilton and wins the 2021 World Drivers' Championship.
The team celebrates with him after winning and in the sea of Red Bull employees, Max searches for you.
He won! Max Verstappen won! He’s a WDC now! He finally made truth of the world he told you in 2019.
Kelly appears and kisses him square on the lips. Max sees you in his peripheral vision, pulling your ball cap lower on your face before turning around and leaving. He wants to call you but Kelly keeps him in place.
Max visits your hotel room later, all happy and he holds the canned bottle of beer to you when you open the door.
“I’m not the sour loser anymore.”
You smile at him and Max feels like he’s on top of the podium again.
“Told ya you’ll be champion one day. Congrats, champ. Very happy for you.”
Champ.
Max decides that he likes Champ over every name you call him.
2022
you: go to fucking sleep u degenerate gamer
you: its 3 in the morning you have a race at 8
max: youre not my mother
you: i am ur manager u ass
you: and i have ur mom’s cell no
you: i will fucking call her if ur stream doesn't turn offline in ten seconds
you: 10…
max: you wouldnt dare
you: 9…
He moves into a penthouse at the beginning of the year and purchases a jet, Dassault Falcon 900EX, to make the traveling easier. Flying commercial absolutely sucks, even first class.
When he mentions the money he spent; the penthouse rental cost, the price of the jet plus maintenance of the private plane service, you have stood up and went to the balcony to stare at the Monaco scenery to gather your thoughts. Max laughs as he watches your brain overheat. He tells security that you’re to be given an immediate pass into the building and his penthouse without the need of going through the strict security checks. He gives you a keycard that you barely use because you knock on the door every single time you come by. A month later, Kelly and Penelope move in and this is the beginning of the little family charade.
“What are you doing?”
“Is it not obvious?” you gesture to the iPad in your hand. “Readin’ a Lestappen fic in AO3.”
Max’s brows furrow.
“Lestappen?”
“The ship name between you and Charles. Lestappen. Leclerc, Verstappen, Lestappen,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s stupid for even asking, waving your hand in a complicated flourish. “It’s good. Top-tier literature. Want me to send you the link?”
Max’s nose scrunches, “So there are people who ship me and Charles?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Romantically?”
You nod, “Want the link?”
“Absolutely not.”
You shrug your shoulders.
“Your loss.”
Max wins P1 (as things should be) in Austin, Hamilton P2, and Leclerc P3. The team holds a private drinking party in the hotel bar. Max sits with Leclerc, whom he has invited, and Lando, who came with Daniel, and Daniel because he’s Daniel and he still gets a free pass in Red Bull parties even though he’s in McLaren now.
Daniel passes him a bottle of Heineken and Max searches for the bottle opener on the table but it's nowhere. He reaches for you, who sits on the neighboring table with the PR team. Max grabs the hem of your polo shirt sleeve and tugs slightly to get your attention. He opens his mouth to ask if you’ve seen the bottle opener but you got to moving, not even giving Max the chance to speak.
Without even interrupting your conversation with the PR people or even breaking eye contact with the person who is talking animatedly, you take the beer bottle from Max’s hand, toss a hand towel on top of it, then you use your teeth to remove the cap. It opens with a loud click. You wipe the rim of the bottle, pocketing the bottle cap, before returning the Heineken to Max.
Max looks at the Heineken bottle in his hand.
You know, Sophie, Max’s mother, always say that there's a certain type of intimacy existing when two people are able to communicate without the use of words. People associate intimacy with bare skins and basking in the fragility and vulnerability of a person, but intimacy goes deeper than mere nakedness and showing all the bare parts of you to the other person. Intimacy comes hand in hand with truth. When you admit your truth to the other person, that's intimacy. Her knowing his truth, his needs, without him telling her. That's another kind. If that's not the purest form of love then he does not know what is.
Charles pats his shoulder to pull him to reality.
At that moment, Max decides he’s an asshole because he just realized that he likes his manager after she opens his beer bottle and he has a fucking girlfriend now.
Max wins WDC for the second year in a row. Leclerc is at second and Perez at third. He’s on the top of the fucking world. Everything feels right now that he’s standing at the top.
His eyes search for you in the crowd but he doesn't find you. Only Kelly. He kisses Kelly, celebrates with the team, and visits you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer in hand. It's a little past midnight, his watch tells him. You open the door seconds after Max knocks.
“Have you talked to Horner?” you ask, accepting the beer and opening it. The loud click when you open it feels satisfying in his ears.
You’ve changed out of the Red Bull polo now and instead, you wear a black shirt.
“No,” Max shakes his head.
“When will you?”
“Soon.”
That's the only truth he can offer. Because the bigger truth is this: Max doesn't want you going anywhere, not even the engineering team who works closely with him. He only wants you here, beside him, behind him, at all times.
One more year. One more year and he's going to tell Christian to move you to the engineering team. One more year to have you and he’ll let you go.
(That's what he told himself last year, too.)
“Okay,” you nod and it relieves Max that you’re not arguing with him about it. “Congrats, Champ.”
You don't fly with him to Monaco. You don't fly with the team either. Instead, you fly to Texas immediately straight from Abu Dhabi. Max calls you once in the middle of break to greet you happy holidays and you mail him his gift—a clay keychain figure of him. He adds it to his keys, sitting right next to the beaded keychain you gave him back in 2020 and a bottle opener keychain in 2021.
2023
“Should I break up with Kelly?”
Your head snaps up at a speed that should be considered a hazard, stunned. You give Max a look that can be translated as: Did the g-force finally catch up to your brain?
“What prompted this?” you question, slowly setting Max’s laptop aside. You’re working on fixing his laptop’s wifi connection while he’s getting his makeup done for the Heineken ad filming. Once the makeup artist deemed him done and left the room, he immediately took the chance to ask the question.
“Nothing,” he lies.
“I’ll throw away your laptop if you don't tell me the truth,” you threaten.
“It's just—” Max pauses. His mouth feels dry. He licks his lips before continuing, “It’s just… I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I don't love Kelly anymore.”
I think I love you, [Name].
“Aight,” you grab a monoblock chair and drag it until it's right beside Max’s chair and plop your ass down. You sigh deeply before your face schools into complete seriousness. “Can't believe I’m the one givin’ you this talk. Uh, Max, you see, in a relationship, you typically experience this period called the honeymoon phase.”
Max nods slowly. He doesn't know where you're trying to get at but he clings on each word that leaves your mouth.
“The honeymoon phase can last anywhere from months to years and when it's done, the strong feelings and infatuation you have for Kelly decreases and that's natural. This is the stage where your bond with Kelly is strengthened,” you explain. “It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It can get boring. But the love is still there. It's just…well, less intense than before.”
He wants to ask if this happened to you and Leo as well, but he bites his tongue and says a different thing instead, “You give advice like a relationship guru.”
“Baby, I have a long list of ex-lovers. Kelly’s your first girlfriend. You don't have a say.”
Your birthday is near. Daniel shares to Max that he’s buying you a new ball cap this year, signed by your favorite professional billiard player. Max needs to give you something better.
He thinks about the things you like. He makes a list. It's a short one.
Beer
A spot in the engineering team.
Your family
He cannot give number three. He cannot give what you already have. He can give you number two but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want you to be anything other than his manager. He can give you number one but it'll be very lame of him if he gives you beer for your birthday. What is better than Daniel’s gift? What would you like more than a ballcap?
Max calls his sister that evening.
“Shoes,” she says. “Oh wait, that's a little hard. You might get her shoe size wrong.”
“She’s size 7. In Euro, 37,” Max states a little too quickly and a little too sure.
“How did you know her shoe size?” Victoria wonders.
“I don't know. I just watch her feet?”
“So, you estimated her shoe size by watching her feet like a creep?”
“I watch her feet a normal amount, Victoria,” Max insists.
“Max, I can't even tell my husband’s shoe size even if I stare at his feet for hours.”
“Maybe you just suck at estimating measurements.”
Max ends up getting the shoes with Victoria’s help. Victoria gets too irritated with him midway because he is too indecisive. He thinks all the shoes that’s displayed do not suit you.
It's not even this difficult when he’s picking shoes to give Kelly. Normally, he just asks the saleswoman to show him the most expensive or the latest in their stock and he buys it, instructs the storespeople to wrap it up and make sure the brand shows because Kelly likes it when the brand is big and bright and attention-grabbing.
“If you think nothing’s pretty enough then go get a custom made shoe,” she advises and then sighs in exasperation. Victoria shakes her head at him. It's not supposed to be a serious suggestion but Max takes it to heart.
Instead of black, Max goes for white. You rarely go in white clothing but when you do, you become so beautiful that Max has to stop himself from kneeling down in front of you and risking everything.
It has pearls and diamonds and satin. All beautiful things that reminded Max of you. Max wants, no, needs to see you put them on. He’s the one who puts it in a box. White-colored with peach stickers and a peach-colored ribbon.
Max plans to give them to you after he wins the Miami Grand Prix. But your family arrives just as he’s about to retrieve it from his driver’s room.
Max meets your family. A family that consists of happy parents and three brothers. You are your family’s unica hija.
Julio [Last Name], your father, is a big man and his accent is thicker than yours and he doesn't call you by your name, only the most affectionate-sounding mija. He reminds Max of a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear who crushes rocks for a living.
Your mother, on the other hand, is a stern-looking woman. Sally, her name was. She’s short, compared to you and her sons and her husband.
You have three brothers. One older—you call him Damiano. Two younger—Rafael and Dominic. You are more your mother than your father, Max notices. Appearance-wise anyway. Damiano, too. Sharp-looking, both of you. Your sharpness makes you look charming whereas your Damiano’s sharpness makes him look intimidating. Your two younger brothers are carbon copies of your father, a little round and with kinder looking features.
“Papa, Mama, Bro one, two, and three, this is Max,” you introduce him, smiling widely and you're doing that smile where you’re showing too much gums and your eyes are shaped like crescents. Happiness looks good on you.
He lets out an oof sound when your father engulfs him in a hug. Max hears you exclaim: “Papa!”
Max laughs and waves his hand to tell you that the hug is fine and is very much welcomed.
“Congratulations, Maxwell!” Julio claps Max’s shoulders.
“Papa, please,” you shake your head at your father’s antics. “It's just Max.”
“Ya want to join us for [Name]’s birthday?” Julio invites. Max catches your eyes. You mouth a no but Max shrugs and says, “Sure.”
Max joins the family dinner. It's held in a Mexican restaurant somewhere downtown. Originally, your family reserved a table for ten. But Max has gone ahead and reserved the entire restaurant by paying upfront. You slap Max’s hand but Max laughs and says, “Happy Birthday [Name].”
Over dinner, Maxs learns that Rafael, Dominic, and Damiano are the biggest motosport fans so they all talk about Formula One and occasionally MotoGP. He finds out that they're a big fan of Marc Marquéz. Max tells them that he knows Marc personally and shares his experiences with the man. He promises to send them the man’s signatures. You tell him that he doesn't have to. He tells you that it's his pleasure.
Max listens in attentively as Julio narrates his amazing tales about his work experience. You laugh at the surprised Pikachu face Max makes when Julio is telling the entire table about the creepy call he responded to just the other month. You and your mother occasionally join in on the conversation but are more comfortable with listening to the boys.
Later, you stand up to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Max stands from the table five minutes after you leave. He’s drunk too much soda so now he needs to take a piss.
“Are you okay?” Max asks as he catches you reapplying a layer of lipstick—a shade of nude rose—on the sink in front of the washroom.
You hold the lipstick in one hand but the other is holding your right arm, palm covering the word MANAGER printed on the sleeve of your Red Bull polo shirt like it's something to be ashamed about.
“Yeah.” A lie.
The rest of the night goes the way Max wants it. He almost wishes it won't end.
Kelly waits for him in his hotel room. She gives him a gift for winning P1. The shoe box in Max’s backpack remains untouched.
He’s got every country except Singapore, Saudi, and Azerbaijan under his belt. His third WDC is secure even if he loses Abu Dhabi, but Max is selfish. He still wants a P1 in Abu Dhabi so he fights and fights until no one can catch up because of how fast he was.
Kelly comes with him this time to watch him race and support him because it's the final race of the season and she also knows that Max is going to win WDC this year. P is over at her father right now so it's just the two of them.
“Babe!” Max looks up from his laptop. Kelly comes running in and Max’s eyes widened, horrified, when she sees that Kelly is holding it.
The white shoes.
Max stands abruptly. The laptop in his lap falls to the floor and shatters. He curses and crouches down to pick it up and save what he can save. When he looks up, Kelly is sitting on the bed now and is trying the shoes on. Max shoves the damaged laptop aside and strides towards her. He’ll deal with the laptop later.
“That's not—”
“Oh?” Kelly’s face morphs in confusion. “It doesn't fit.”
Kelly chuckles yet it sounds empty and dread pools in Max’s stomach.
“You bought me shoes many times already. There’s no way you’ll get my shoe size wrong.”
Max takes the shoes from her hand quickly and he puts them back carefully in the box.
“That's not for me,” Kelly states.
“It’s not for you,” Max echoes.
“Then who’s it for, Babe?”
Max doesn't answer. Instead, he avoids her gaze.
“Max Emilian Verstappen, who’s the shoes for?” Kelly is seething now.
For the first time in their two nearly three year long relationship, Max and Kelly get into a screaming argument. They get into arguments as all couples do, but never ones with screaming and crying and too much anger in one room.
“I can't go on like this anymore,” Kelly cries. “I can't. I let it go when you made me wait because you celebrated her birthday with her family. I let it go when you made her that crochet bag. I let it go when you bought a billiard table and brought it into our home because she likes playing billiards—”
“I tried breaking up with you!” Max roars and he sees Kelly flinch. “And you told me not to. You used Penelope so I wouldn't break up with you—”
“Do not even say my daughter's name—”
“It's true!” Max throws his hands in the air like a man gone mad. “I told you in fucking July that I think I’m losing feelings for you! You told me to not break up with you because Penelope already thinks of me as her father and it’ll break her heart if I kick you out of my house! I am NOT her father, Kel, her father’s Daniil! You only want me because I can give you everything you want! Money, pride, and a fucking father figure for your child!”
Kelly strikes his cheek. Sharp, fast, and strong. Max remains still in shock and stares ahead.
Kelly has officially become the second person in this world who has raised a hand at Max.
“I hate you,” Kelly utters it with so much intensity. “I hate you. We’re done.”
She leaves quickly.
Max’s phone buzzes.
you: hey champ. race is on in an hour n a half. u good to go?
max: yeah
max: i’ll be there soon
you: i’ll wait for u
max: you always do
Max races with the guilt that he's a cheating asshole. His mother will not be proud of it once she learns that her son has dated a girl and idiotically realized that he’s in love with his manager halfway through the relationship.
Despite the emotional turmoil that swirling inside him, Max takes P1 and becomes a third-time WDC. He celebrates with the team. You excuse yourself, saying you have something important to do, and Max doesn't bother asking you to stay because he knows he’ll visit you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer. It’s become your ritual now.
He drinks with Daniel, Yuki, and Checo. Five bottles in, he spills everything. He pukes. It tastes disgusting. His world turns into a hazy blur. You came to his rescue because that's what you always do.
Max is so dumb for taking so long in realizing that he's in love with you. It's always been you. You and your dumb considerate attitude and your snarky personality and your crude mouth. He never realized how horrifyingly enormous his desire for you is until its right there in front of him with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole.
you: landed
you: thanks for the jet
you: talk soon gotta get to papa 1st
max: ok
max: stay safe
max: your dad will be alright dont worry
you: i hope so
It has been seven days since the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, three days since you left Monaco, two days since your last conversation in Instagram, and a day before Max flies to Belgium to celebrate the holidays with his mother and sister and his sister’s family.
max: are you okay?
max: just landed in belgium
max: mum and vic says hi
max: hey it's been a week now
max: is your dad okay?
max: im worried
max: call me soon please
max: happy holidays
max: or merry christmas
max: whatever you celebrate there in america
max: yeah i greeted a little too early
max: you didn't answer my call
max: im friends with logan now by the way
max: we talk at times
max: im trying to get him into sim racing
max: maybe it'll help him improve
max: happy holidays
max: i called your cell
max: you know christian just told me something funny
max: he sent an email this morning with a list of candidates for my 2024 manager
max: he said you resigned
max: very funny
max: please tell me you didn't
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Text
We don't fit together (Lando Norris)
Your lifestyle is so different to Lando's that maybe everyone else is right
Note: english is not my first language. I'm not sure how I feel about this, it's like a love hate relationship with it to be completely honest... I hope it's still enjoyable to read! Update: there's a part 2 here !
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions reader's insecurities about herself and about her relationship with Lando, alcohol consumption
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
Lando facetimes and he's going to a club wherever he is
"Hello, baby!", Lando greeted with a bug smile when you picked up his video call.
"Hey love, congrats on your podium!", you smiled back, now able to congratulate him face to face even if through a screen, "Don't you look handsome, hm?", you bit your lip once he set the phone and clasped his bracelets on his wrist.
The outfit was simple but he made it look so good. He was wearing black jeans, a white t-shirt and a backwards black cap was covering his curls. Had he been right in front of you, you would have already laced your arms around his neck and littered little kisses along the tanned skin.
"Thank you, baby", he blushed slightly, "Max and Kelly are also going to the club where Martin is playing tonight", he smiled, "it's really good and it's supposed to have the craziest nights out in town, so we're going to check it out - I miss you loads, can't wait to go back home", he mused.
"Me too, but I'm glad you're having a good time out there! I'm not going to say I wish I was there because it doesn't look like my scene, but I can't wait to have you with me, love", you giggled.
"That's true, I don't think it would be very enjoyable for you", Lando agreed, "we're leaving in the morning, which will be night time for you, so I'll text you updates and then when I arrive we can have an early dinner in that restaurant you really like near my place and then you could spend the night. How does that sound?", he suggested.
"Sounds good to me", you smiled at the prospect. Time couldn't go by faster.
"I have to go, baby - Max and Kelly are already downstairs waiting for me! I love you and I can't wait to kiss your gorgeous face", he winked.
"Go enjoy yourself, Lan, you deserve it! Give my congratulations to Max and send Kelly a hug from me. I love you!", you blew him a kiss before he ended the call.
Work commitments and some family situations had kept you from going to the race weekend. It was a common thing to happen but it still left you missing Lando like crazy, counting down the hours until he was on your arms again.
You finished cooking your dinner, ate it and then headed to the living room, ready to unwind and start your bedtime routine, getting a selfie from Kelly with Max and Lando in it too, the club lights illuminating then enough to tell them apart.
When you woke up, like promised, Lando had sent you a text saying he had boarded the jet and everything was on schedule. Opening the text, you saw that a few hours before he had also sent you a video.
It was less than a minute, but you could see Martin and Lando at the DJ table, happily interacting with the crowd before mixing some music up and dancing along, "I love you, baby!", Lando said into the phone before he ended the video.
You did your morning workout, showered and while you were having breakfast, you scrolled through your social media, seeing some edits from the race and a couple of videos from the club Lando, amongst other drivers, partied in.
The first one was a different angle from the one you had been sent, someone on the dance floor recording it and sending it to a fan page.
They usually didn't say much other than stating facts about the video, where it was taken, who was in it and who had sent it. This one, however, seemed to spark up the conversation as a lot of people had opinions about it.
He just looks so good 🥵 I'd never be able to leave his side if I was with him!
He always has the best night out spots
He just looks so happy when he's doing it, it's great he has friends who support him in it outside of racing
Scrolling down, a gossip page post popped up. Unlike the other videos, this one was in a controlled environment and it seemed to be from someone on the VIP area. You could see Lando and Martin talking to a group of people before the girl flipped the camera, speaking into her phone as subtitles showed "I can't believe this, it's Lando Norris! Fp you think we should go up to him? I bet he's here alone as usual", the blonde girl said as she swept her hair over her shoulder. She looked stunning, hair curled to perfection and make-up done in such a complementing way it showed skills you knew you didn't have yourself, "I've seen Max and Kelly, and Carlos was just at the bar I think", another girl with short black hair said.
"You know what I mean, he's never here with what's her face", she giggled tipsily.
Dating Lando meant that you were exposed to these type of interactions from people online on a daily basis, more frequently whenever he posted you or you joined him for the race weekend. On the comments, some people alerted the page admin and the girl who sent the video about how offensive it was and how they didn't have the right to talk about you like that, but it didn't seem to do much as other people left their opinion.
He'd be so much better without her, did you see the article where someone at the club said he left with another girl? She's done for...
It wouldn't surprise me tbh, there's only so much it can work before you realise you don't have similar interests and things are not making you happy
Lando would be so good with someone who is in the public eye, can you imagine all the content we would get?
Shaking it off of your body, you closed the app and locked your phone, taking a deep breath as your mind started filling with all sorts of doubts.
At the start, noise from the media was easy to reason with, but lately it was all you could think about. Every week with every interaction Lando had with another woman, they would suggest he was in a relationship despite knowing you were dating eachother. You didn't understand why, but they had even taken the extra step of having someone comment on it and give their opinion on it, as if there was an opinion to give on who he dated and didn't date.
Getting up, your put some music on your headphones and started tidying the house. You couldn't sort your thoughts out, so might as well deal with the mess on your apartment.
"I missed you so much", Lando said once you opened the door, his arms instantly wrapping around your body and walking you backwards, closing the door with his foot, "hello, my love", he said, nipping a few kisses on your neck before he looked up, finally kissing your lips after having spent so long away from you.
"Hello, Lan", you cupped his face, kissing his lips again as his hands roamed along your waist and back, "I'm so glad you're back home", you smiled.
"Me too, especially when I'm greeted like this", he smirked, looking you up and down. In the last two years, you still hadn't gotten fully used to the way he would look at you.
His heart swelled with pride because you were his, all for him and no one else, "I love this colour on you", he kissed your exposed clavicle, "as much as I'd love to continue this, we have reservations to get to", he smiled before licking the spot he just kissed, "let's go, gorgeous", he encouraged, making you get your coat and bag and put on your shoes, ready to go.
.
Lando got VIP entrances to a fairly new club, and since Max was in town, too, you decided to join them on a night out. Despite the opinions everyone on the internet seemed to have, you did enjoy going out, just not every week or even every month. Shutting down your laptop after sending the last e-mail, you went to shower and start getting ready.
Making sure the towell was secure on your head and the robe was soaking up all the water remnants from your skin, you walked up to your wardrobe, running your fingers through the options you had for tonight. Settling in an outfit you felt both comfortable and beautiful in, you were quick to dry yourself and change, grabbing a simple black bag out of your closet and then heading to the bathroom for hair and make-up. You clipped your loose waves away from your face once they were dry while you applied some foundation to even out your skin tone, hiding the dark circles that came with the little sleep you'd gotten that week, bronzing, highlighting and contouring what needed, doing your brows and applying some mascara to your lashes. You weren't too fussed about makeup, choosing to stay on the simpler side of things, not bothering with the little moles and pimples that still showed through as you'd end up with your face resembling a pancake instead.
Checking if you were on time, you grabbed your watch and bracelets and clasped them to your wrist before clasping your necklace on your neck and putting simple hoop earrings, appreciating your final look in the mirror.
Not too much, not too little, but you didn't look like the girls your boyfriend was rumoured to be dating. The article came from a magazine where they had analysed everyone they thought would suit Lando and his lifestyle, and even though you tried yo ignore it, Lando was the first to come to your place and tell you, in person, that he had nothing to do with those girls and most of them he didn't even knew personally anyway, spending the rest of the night in your bed reminding how much he loved you and only you.
Lando was coming to pick you up soon, so you headed to the living room to wait for him. A knock on the door announced his presence, "I'm here to pick up the most beautiful woman in the whole wide world - my girlfriend", he charmed before taking a good look at you, "you're stunning, baby, breath taking", he gasped.
"C'mon, let's go", you urged, your cheeks blushing at the attention he was giving you, "Baby girl, a little twirl for me first", he smirked, as you did it, "we're both one good looking couple, aren't we?", he added, kissing your cheek as you played with the thin chain around his neck, "you look great, handsome, so great", you kissed his throat before closing the door behind you.
As you walked inside the club with Lando, who laced your hand in his as soon as he saw the crowded place, you took it all in.
It would be a lie to say that your senses hadn't been invaded all at once when you stepped into the VIP area of the club, different kinds of substances in the air and some perfume notes invading your nose, lights flashing your eyes as the loud music rang in your ears and drummed on your feet.
Lando carefully guided you through the people - the less crowded zone helping your movements -, always keeping you close as he looked for Max and Martin.
"Hey! You finally made it!", Max said as he greeted you, "Y/N, fancy sering you here! You look amazing as always", he complimented your black pants and emerald green one shoulder top outfit.
"Hi, I'm Martin, have we met before?", he asked after he pulled you for a half hug, "I don't think so, no, I'm Y/N", you smiled at his kindness and welcoming demeanour.
"You weren't joking when you said you were going to bring special company tonight", the dutch DJ nudged Lando with his elbow before fistbumping his hand.
"My special lady only goes out when the music is really good, so you should feel honoured, mate", Lando tsked, kissing the side of your head and smiling down at you. He was so happy you were there with him.
"The bar is over there, c'mon! Let's go and get something", Max suggested, leading the way with Martin right behind him as Lando's hands squeezed your waist again as he guided you to the bar, occasionally nodding to acquaintances you two bumped into.
Getting yourself a drink and Lando grabbing something non-alcoholic for him, "I'm driving us both home tonight, I don't want to do anything irresponsible", he reasoned as the four of you engaged in conversation about the set Lando and Martin would be doing. You had always been a kept to yourself type of person, not really letting people in until you knew for sure what their intentions were, but having Lando and Max there gave you enough ease to chat with Martin too while you waited for them to go up to the booth.
Granted this wasn't your usual choice of plans, you had been out enough times to know what it entailed and what to expect, a lot of people you didn't know coming up to greet your boyfriend, some seeming closer friendships to him that others.
"Are you okay, baby? We'll have to go up in a bit, do you want to stay here or go up there?", he questioned, "I need to go to the bathroom, I won't be long hopefully, but I can meet you up there when I come back - do you think that will be okay?", you wondered, "yes, of course! Just wave at me or Max if anyone gives you any trouble, beautiful", he kissed you, "I love you", he mumbled against your lips, squeezing your hips softly before Martin pulled on his arm.
On your way to the bathroom, you accidentally touched the railing on the stairs when you were set your cup down on the designated area, the liquid on it making your squirm a little as you held out your hand like you had touched poison. For all you knew, it could be something like that.
There were two girls waiting to use one of the stalls, prompting you to gently slot yourself in front of them, "sorry, but do you mind if go first just now? I just need to wash my hand and then I'll be back to the line", you asked politely as they nodded, the first one going to the stall that freed up and making room for you as the other girl stepped out. Her face was familiar as you took a glance in the mirror, and from the smile she gave you through the mirror, you assumed she probably recognised you too.
Washing your hands again when you came out of the stall, you walked to the bar and got yourself a bottle of water, noticing your boyfriend already pressing and tapping the buttons on the mixing table as everyone danced and many captured the moment on their phones while you waited. The booth looked tight and, truthfully, quite exposed, so you decided to stay where you had been previously, still able to enjoy yourself and dance while you watched Lando and Martin.
Max must've thought the same as he spotted you a few minutes later, twirling you around before he set his drink on the high table.
"Ruby!", Max yelled as the girl from the bathroom walked up to him and gave him a hug followed by another girl you assumed was her friend, introducing her to Max before turning to you.
"You're Y/N, right?", she asked, noticing your surprised expression, "sorry, I didn't mean to be so blunt - I'm Ruby, this is my friend Katie", she introduced, "we bumped into you in the bathroom, and it looked like you knew who I was", she clarified, still noticing apprehension from you, "I know Lando - we're acquaintances, I guess", she said.
"I'm so sorry, your face was familiar but I didn't know where from", you apoligised, "I kept going over in my head but I couldn't pinpoint where I knew you from", you gulped.
Up close and in the club environment, you were now sure of why her face was so familiar. She was one of the girls the gossip magazine page mentioned. She was gorgeous and from the way people greeted her, she seemed to attend many parties and nights out at that club.
"It's okay - Lando has told me about you, by the way", she smiled before her friend pitched in, "it's so nice to finally see you here, it's a good thing you came here to see him. I didn't think it would suit you, but it does look like you're having a good time", Katie offered before sipping from her drink.
"Yes, it's quite fun actually, Martin and Lando are a good duo I'd say", you smiled, pushing the backhanded compliment to the back of your mind for now.
"Do you want something to drink, Y/N? I can get it for you!", Max offered and you shook your head no, thanking him for his offer but politely declining as you saw him walk to the bar with Ruby.
"How has your night been, Y/N?", she tried to start up a conversation and appear put together even though it was clear she had drank over her limit, "I never see you here with Lando - he usually hangs out with us when he isn't pretending to be a world famous DJ", she giggled, "so are you enjoying it? I know it's not really your scene".
"It's not my usual, no, but I enjoy a night out every now and again", you remained polite, "He's really happy when he does it and he gets to relax a little and forget his troubles for a bit, it's a good thing".
"He's really funny, yes, and charming too", she hiccuped, "I'm sure people come here for a good night out anyway, but I just know that most of these people here", she pointed to the people dancing, "are here for him because they know he enjoys a good party and they do too - I guess they're hoping their similar interests will cross paths", she smiled.
She was really trying to get to you, and much to your disappointment in yourself, she was successfully doing it.
"That's how he is wired, you know? Parties after parties, living it up with all the luxury he has access to, and at such a young age, he has everything on his fingertips, anyone even! It's just a matter of him choosing what he really wants", she added, straightening herself against the table when Ruby walked back with Max.
"What were you two chatting about?", Ruby asked as she set the drinks on the table, Max doing the same with his.
"I was just telling Y/N how it usually is around here, but tonight they've upped their game because Lando is playing, look at him!", Katie pointed at your boyfriend before she started dancing around.
"He's really fun at these functions", Ruby offered, "looks like it is something he enjoys doing", she said in an earnest tone, and for a few seconds, you wanted to believe she wasn't digging at you like her friend was and was just stating a fact.
Lando had a big smile on his face. His skin was glowing both from his tan and the sheen of the sweat from how warm it was up there, occasionally holding Martin's hand when he hugged him from behind and rested his hand on his sternum. All troubles were put to a halt when he enjoyed his time off with friends doing things he loved.
Once the set was over and the speakers played what you assumed was some random playlist for the moment, Lando and Martin came back to join you at the table, "did you enjoy it, Y/N?", Martin asked.
"I did, it was very good!", you smiled, feeling Lando's hands on your waist before his mouth whispered on your ear, "Hi, baby" and kissed your neck.
"Did you stay here for the whole set?", he wondered, "yes, it looked a little cramped up in there so I stayed here with Max, then Ruby and Katie joined us for a bit", you nodded with your eyes as Katie seemed to notice your eyes on here, waving back at you and Lando.
"Oh, Ruby - she's nice, I met her girlfriend the last time I was here - so that's her friend?", he mused turning fully around to face you.
"Should be, we didn't really talk much", you shrugged your shoulders.
"Did you really enjoy it, Y/N? You can say no and we'll be out of here of you don't want to stay", Lando offered, "I myself am getting quite tired actually", he said as he rested his hand on top of his stomach.
"I did, you did really well up there, and you looked really handsome", you smirked, twirling a curly lock that fell on his forehead.
It didn't take long before people started leaving, the night already mostly done with after Lando danced with you for a bit, noticing you seemed to also have spent most of your battery and wete in deep need of going back home. Bidding goodbye to everyone, you and Lando made your way to his car as he drove you back to his apartment where you had planned to spend the night.
Taking your heels off and putting on your slippers, you waited for Lando to lock the door and join you in the living room, thumbs fiddling with eachother.
Noticing your behaviour, Lando knocked on the door and approached you gently, "You alright, baby? You've been quiet since before we left the club. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better? Is your tummy upset? Or is it your head", he listed the possible causes of your discomfort.
He was however missing the point. It seemed you both missed it until now. For you at least anyway, he still didn't notice it.
Better late than never.
"I'm not judging your choices, it's not my place and definitely not on this... but... do you think we work?", you quesioned, your lips trembling slightly as all emotions seemed to come back to the front. How different you were, how his interests weren't similar to yours, how his happiness was something you were getting in the way of.
"What do you mean if we work?", Lando asked, genuinely not understanding your question.
"We're so different, Lando. Your lifestyle has nothing similar to mine, and I'm not even talking about money - that's a pretty obvious one and something not most humans can do anyway -, I'm talking about being the soul of the party, always ready to go on to the next night out and plan everything surrounding it. I don't do nightlife like you do, I barely do it at all. And that's okay for me as it is okay for you with what you do", you clarified.
"What are you saying, Y/N?", he inquired, a new tone of defensiveness in his voice.
"I'm saying we don't fit together like that", you let the words out, your heart shattering as each syllable came out.
"Y/N, that doesn't mean anything", Lando began, "sure, there are different interests that we don't have in common and that we don't share, but that doesn't make it not work between us! Why would it?", he argued, "it sounds to me like you're calling our relationship out because I like to go out and you don't and I don't agree with it".
"Lando, it hurts, it's painful", you stated, tears falling from your eyes at your admission.
It caught him off guard and his brain shifted somewhere else. To the promise he made you and the promise he made himself. He would never make you hurt and he would never be the cause of your pain.
"Y/N, baby, we can talk about this better when we've gathered our thoughts", he tried even though any suggestion he could make would potentially increase your pain. And he couldn't bear to do that.
"No one would ever see you and see me and say that we were good together, it just took us longer to see what they have noticed so long ago - so much so that they think you deserve someone else", you murmured.
"But I don't need anyone else's opinion when I have you", he mused softly, wanting to take your hand in his but you still fiddled with your thumbs before wiping your cheeks.
"Y/N, I promise that whatever is going on in your head is not the truth - your mins is telling you awful lies. I love you so much and I don't think like that", he tried to reason, "That's not what we are".
"I want to go home", you gulped, "I'm going to get an Uber", you announced, looking at a broken Lando.
"Can I drive you there, please?", he asked, himself feeling like prolonging the argument would only lead to worse but needing to make sure you felt he wouldn't give up, "I'd feel better being in charge of the car taking you home than anyone else at this time", he reasoned.
"You won't ask me anything else? Can we do it in silence?", you asked. The words had a bitter taste on your mouth like they didn't belong there. Chatting with Lando was one of your favourite things in the world, hearing his voice and his giggles, those were the best sounds ever known to man.
"Okay, if that's how you want it", Lando assured, grabbing his keys while you put your shoes back on along with your coat.
The drive to your apartment was agonisingly silent. Lando wanted to ask you where this left your relationship, you wanted to ask him if what he said was true.
"We're here", Lando announced, stopping the car and getting out, waiting for you to get out and meet him by the driver's seat door, "I- Y/N, is this goodbye?", he worked himself up to ask, "because I don't want that, we can talk about his and sort it out, please, this is what we do, love", he pleaded.
"Can we talk about it another day? I can't think straight tonight, and I don't want to say things that will hurt you because of that", you suggested.
"Sure", Lando sighed, "whenever you're ready. I love you, Y/N", he looked into your eyes, refraining from kissing your forehead even though that was all he wanted to do.
"Thank you, for this and for bringing me home, Lan, I love you", you looked back into his eyes.
He was hurt, too, and the last three words you said seemed to have brought anger to the mix as well. There was a grey hue and the sparkle was lost despite the moon glistening.
"Have a good night, baby, I love you more than words can say, and I will fight for you and for us, even if I'm the only one in the battlefield, I'll fight for both of us", he assured.
Part 2
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ja3hwa · 3 months
Text
♡ 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐏𝐭.𝟑 | 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡
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【Synopsis】 : Hongjoong offers to drive you home, not realising it was a one was ticket to having his way with you.
『Word count』 : 1.82k
-> Genre: Smut. Fluff. DBF.  
Pairing: Dilf!Hongjoong x Park!Reader  
[Warnings] : Flirting. Making out. Car sex-ish. Thigh fucking. Clit play. Dirty talk. Pet names.
Note: I'm on a roll with this Dilf story. And I know I'm leaving you all hanging again. What can i say? i love to tease you guys. Hehe ♡♡ Also Special tags for @mingis-prince @itza-meee for liking this mini story thingy so much, hehe.
Masterlist | Navigation | Part Two | Part Four | Buy Me A Ko-Fi
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The last few days of your trip were nothing but painful. You had woken up the morning of the lust-filled night, to Hongjoong already up and in the kitchen, among the other of your father's friends and some of their kids.
He didn't even look at you, pretending to go on with life like nothing had happened. But once you were inside your room, grabbing your swimmers to join Jongho and his two daughters in a game of pool volleyball, you were cornered by two firm hands gripping your bare waist and whispering, "You shouldn't get dressed so freely when anyone could walk in on you."
And by anyone he meant himself. He wouldn't let you leave that room until he was satisfied enough. Tasting your lips for around twenty minutes. But he never touched you where you needed. It was torturous. Your car was finally packed and ready. Everyone was staying around the front door of the cabin, saying their goodbyes. Your father looked sad but relieved, most likely happy he gets some peace now but sad all his friends were leaving.
"Yeah, but you should join us. Minnie's performance will be around lunchtime in the day, so you can hang around in the morning." Wooyoung was rambling on about his daughter's performance you heard about from her. She was a singer, and she had auditioned to join this label thingy. You didn't pay much attention to the conversation
"I'll show you the new bike," San interjected with a click of his tongue. His husband just rolled his eyes, mumbling something about how San doesn't shut up about that thing. Hongjoong was standing there also. Arms crossed in a tight black compression shirt. His tactical jet black pants and army boots made him look like walking sin. How does he look so hot just by standing?
“we should have a ride one night when you’re free from the kids.” Hongjoong laughed.
“Hey, that’s a great idea. But I’m never free from my kids.” San chuckled, making the rest of them laugh, having known exactly what he meant.
“I’m glad I’m over that stage of parenting.” Your father’s attention was now on you, but you hadn’t caught it. Now that you mention it, you had lost all focus on the conversation the minute Hongjoong spoke about his bike. Just the thought about him in full leather gear, on his slick motorbike. Would he let you go for a ride with him? You’ve never been on one, but you’ve heard they can be iniamite ‘cause as a passenger you’d be flushed against his back, arms tightly around his waist. Holding onto him like a lifeline. God you could feel your face heat up just at the thought. “Peach!”
“Huh?” You snapped out of your thoughts, noticing all your father's friends were looking at you. Including Hongjoong. His smirk told you he knew what you were thinking, but the others were more showing confusion or slight worry at your spaceiness. “I… uh. I’m gonna go. Sorry for spacing I’m just tired.”
You said quickly before even trying to understand what your father might want. He just rolled his eyes, giving you a tight hug. “Are you sure you’re gonna be able to drive, bub? If you're zoning out like that, maybe you should stay longer, a nap?” Your dad started to parent you, listing off things like ‘just stay one more night even, go home tomorrow’. but you needed to go home now…. you couldn’t spend another day without some type of relief.
“I’m okay Dad... I’ll just—I could drive her home.” Hongjoong’s voice lurked behind you. You swore you could feel his body heat against your ass. “I didn’t bring a car. I was planning on catching a cab. But If your girl doesn’t mind. I’ll just drive her car back inner city.”
You finally turned to look at the hunk of a man behind you, he was standing so causally, his hands in his pockets and his sunnies covering his gorgeous eyes. He looked completely relaxed as if him asking was doing you such a favour. Your father's smile was bright, giving his friend a pat on the shoulder, “Sounds perfect. But drive safely. You got precious cargo with you.” Your father laughed making the tatted male chuckle simply.
-
 The car ride was stone-cold quiet. Not even the radio playing lowly in the background could shatter the tension that had filled the car the moment Hongjoong started driving. There was still another half hour until you were home, and from the past hour of silence, you knew the time wasn’t about to change the conditions of the awkward car ride. Your heart was racing, and all you wanted to do was say a million different things to ease your brain but at the same time you just wanted Hongjoong to stop somewhere random on the side of the road so you could finally have him. God you were going to go crazy.
“I swear your thoughts are so loud.” Hongjoong chuckled making your head snap in his direction.
“M-My thoughts?”
“Yes, angel. Your thoughts. They are so loud.” He smirked not once diverting his eyes from the road. You squirmed a little bit, now having your attention completely on him and the way he was holding the wheel. Those strong hands, that you wanted more than anything to be on you.
“You have no clue what I’m thinking about.” You crossed your arms turning to look out your window but in truth, it was so you could hide the blush forming on your face.
“Oh, sure I do darling.” his words only caused a ‘uh huh’ out of you along with another huff. It went silent for a moment, making you think you might have said something wrong. But then as soon as you heard Hongjoong’s voice again, it was like all the air was punched out of your lungs. “My cock.”
A whimper escapes your wobbly lips as you feel all your self-control fly out the car window. You turned to him, seeing he was looking straight at you. It was only then you noticed you had come to a red light, giving him a moment to bask in your beautiful figure. The way your body curves and dips, your shorts hugging your thighs tightly. His Adams apple bobs while he bit his lips, he wanted nothing more than to fuck your thighs right now. “Hongjoong…” Your soft whisper slowly pulled him out of the trance he slipped into, letting his hazy eyes meet your cheeky expression and cocked brow. “The light is green.”
A loud honk from behind made him jump, snapping his view to the bright green traffic light in front of him. He pressed his foot on the gas at such power, making the car jolt. You gripped onto your seat belt questioning what on earth had gotten to him but as he turned a few more streets, down a weird pebbled road, you finally took in a large black roller door connected to a huge sky tower. You glanced at the older man with confusion, noting that this wasn’t your place. But his tight grip on the wheel made you shut up before you even let another word out. He leant out the window after coming to a stop. Punching some numbers on a keypad stand, the roller doors slowly opened, letting him drive into the dim parking lot. “Where are we?”
Hongjoong just merely grunted, searching for the nearest empty parking spot amongst rows and rows of high-end, lavish vehicles. Your small little car at nothing on the price of them… He finally pulled into a space, coming to a sharp stop. He unbuckled himself without a second breath, leaning down to grab the lever at the base of his seat so he could push it back. Raking his fingers through his hair he growls with a panted breath, “If you don’t get on my lap right now I might just lose it.”
You didn’t have to be told twice, ripping off your buckle, you climbed over the middle console very unattractively, but you didn’t care. Your lips were on his in a rushed huff, his hands cupping your face tightly. He bit your bottom lip so hard you feared for a moment he’d draw blood. Your legs sat on either side of his thighs, the buckle clip digging into your flesh but you couldn’t care less. Your hips were unsteady and your pace was nothing short of desperate. You needed him so badly. “Hongjoong p-please.”
Again with the begging. You were so good for him in every moment. How did he get so lucky? Your hands reached for his belt, undoing it enough to unzip and shimmy his pants down slightly. His cock was already straining against his boxers, precum leaking onto the silk fabric. Your soft hands pulled him out without another moment not letting him have any say. His mind was screaming at him ‘What happened to doing this by the book, doing right by her.’ He wasn’t about to let your first time be in a fucking small ass car.
“Let me fuck your thighs angel. I promise I’ll fuck my cock in your tight cunt when I have you naked on my bed.” His words caught you off guard making you yelp out a whinny ‘okay’. turning around your head rested on his shoulder as he closed your thighs tightly, letting his cock slip snuggly in between them. God, it felt like heaven. Your soft plump flesh around his cock. He wanted to bust his nut then and there. His thrusts were small and sharp. He was gonna cum sooner than he planned, but he needed you to come with him. “Fuck, play with yourself, baby. Rub your clit for me.”
Your hand disappeared into your shorts, slipping into your panties. Letting you press two fingers firmly on your bud. You rubbed in time of his thrusts, falling into a rhythm of pleasure. You weren't far behind him when his grunts and groans tickled your neck and his tongue licked along your hot flesh. His hands gripped the outer parts of your thighs, holding them tightly together as his hips began to stutter. You both were so close, so close to the edge, you just needed something to tip over and then he whimpered so desperately in your ear. “Please, angel. Your thighs are s-so good. I’m going to cum so fucking hard.”
That did it for both of you, cumming in your pants while he squirted all over your plump thighs. Everything was a mess. Your hair, your legs. Him, completely. All you could hear was his heart racing as you cuddled up to his chest for a moment. He held, you close, kissing lazily on your neck, jaw and shell of your ear, whispering soft compliments along the lines of ‘well done, such a good girl. My best girl’
All you could think about in that moment is that you never want this to end.
—♡
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ateezinmymind · 1 month
Text
secret
seonghwa x reader
fluff, smut
warning: fem! reader, unprotected sex, cum play, fingering, alcohol + marijuana mentioned
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word count: 2.5k
tag list: (let me know if you want to be on it)
the way he stared at you from across the fire made you flush - and not from the burning flames. his gaze hard and seductive, his bottom lip tucked loosely between his teeth. his wet jet black hair splayed across parts of his forehead from the deep ocean he had been night swimming in.
you and park seonghwa had a little secret to keep from the others
something only the two of you knew about, and something your seven other friends couldn’t know about.
“you all good y/n?” yunho pipes up beside you, making youther concentration pull away from the man across the makeshift driftwood bench you seated yourself down at. yunho’s features displayed with worry and confusion, “you haven't even touched any of the food - this is a bonfire girl, get livin’!” his little shoulder groove made you let out a small laugh and shake your head just slightly.
“oh no yuyu, i’m all good, i’m sorry. my mind is all over the place” you say while you raise your hand that has a hold of your bottle of alcohol and joint between your two fingers. “just me and my high ass”
this makes him laugh and shove your shoulder in a friendly manner, and you peek a quick glance at seonghwa once again - finding him staring back with a smirk, his own hand coming up to bring his drink to his parting lips. “well, just had to make sure” yunho adds after he finishes snickering. “you should go out for a dip, it might clear your head”.
this piqued your interest as you began to nod your head with a growing smile, “yeah yunho, that actually sounds really nice.”
“of course babe, just make sure to not go out alone - we can’t have you drifting too far off in the night” and with letting out one last chuckle, he dips his head and jogs off to where mingi and hongjoong were debating - probably about the right way to roast a marshmallow or something of the sort. (you didn’t even bother to look)
perking the arch of your brow up slightly, your eyes catch seonghwas one final time and you decide to take control of the situation. having grown tired of sending flirtatious notions towards each other for most of the night. so, standing up from the driftwood below you, a single nod of your head has seonghwa lifting from his seated position swiftly with an all knowing smile.
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“shit!!!” you hiss out, elbows flying out to keep your arms lifted - your face pulling with a clenched jaw. “its freeeeezing”
submerged to your lower ribs, t-shirt halfway soaked, you watch seonghwa dunk below the moon reflected and rippling surface. subconsciously taking a breath in and holding it until he emerges once more.
only then, you let out a small shriek as you feel his nimble fingers just barely dip under your shirt. right above your navel, causing a flutter of excitement in your stomach
“how’s it goin?” he asks you dumbly with a big grin, the glimmering water droplets running down his face. you try and refrain from watching one trail all the way down his chin as your gaze just barely drops down to peek-
“y/n?” he asks again, finally succeeding at getting ahold of your attention, you lift your eyes up and let a small giggle pass. your body submerged in the moving water, yet going nowhere under his soft hold - merely swaying in intoxication. “i'm having fun,” you blankly say with a know it all look, taking in another deep breath - only for an involuntary shiver to chatter in your jaw. his eyes soften at this, and his fingers slide up and around to caress your back and lower shoulders. the feeling makes itself very apparent on your goosebump covered skin. “oh yeah?” he asks, biting back a laugh just watching your eyes squint with yet another infectious snort. “why are you so giggly” he joins.
it was a dumb question really, but that was all part of the fun
lifting your chin a bit higher, your lips just inches away from his - you take your arms over his bare shoulders and lift up off your feet, bringing them around his waist. “i dont know, maybe because im high?” your obvious response made him roll his eyes and finally lower his hold, and support your new position. one hand on your lower back and the other unapologetically on your ass, the contact in turn making you naturally sink more into him.
“o-oh” a small moan escapes your throat as your panty covered heat brushes against his now hardening bulge, having seonghwa let out a responsive grunt.
then silence.
“whatcha doin now” he pipes lowly, slowly closing the distance between the both of your lips and stopping just before you connect. under his close proximity, you adjust strategically and almost deviously - by fully grinding down on his erection. “trying to get you hard” you simply reply, earning a full on moan from seonghwa just before you close the space entirely. swallowing his sounds, the taste of the salty water and alcohol mix with your fighting tongues.
arousal floods your system as your hips continue their grinding motions, seonghwa’s hold on your ass helping guide by tugging and pushing away. and it wasn’t until his hard on painfully strained against the thin suctioned fabric of his boxers he pulled off your mouth, unable to take any more torment. lifting your hips off of him, you whine out from both the loss of pleasurable sensation to your cunt, and the temperature difference of being pulled off his own body heat. though seonghwas hold still on you, your legs drop back down and your feet land down into the sandy ocean bottom.
“okay, y/n, you got me hard” he laughs, exasperatingly. trying to calm his own lust and desire despite the very apparent aroused state. this only makes you roll your eyes and pout.
“you dont wanna fuck?”
seonghwa shakes his head quickly and for the first time looks back at the small group of boys back on the beach yelling back and forth. then back to you - and you're shivering, leading him immediately into decision.
releasing his hold on you completely he leans in for a moment before trudging his way back to shore - “let's get you out of the water and continue, yeah?”
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making your way past the scattered friend group was easier than you had initially thought, it just took one look from hongjoong, yunho and yeosang for them to assume the both of you were headed to the parked cars in order for a change of clothes. (the other boys were very immersed in their game of longest handstand, which jongho and san currently battled for the first place it seemed).
the night sky still bright with the lunar glow, you're drawn out of your thoughts when seonghwa gently caresses the back right side of your waist, speaking with a soft tone while closing in towards the vehicles by the beachgrass, “are you wanting to continue?”. looking up, you smile excitedly and nod in response. turning your body to press up against him again once you two disappear behind the car's cover. only this time are you grounded, your intoxicated state backing you up - tongue wetting your lower lip seductively, seonghwa’s grip tightens on you after he chokes out yet another moan. your hand placed over the top of his trousers, palming the (very prominent) hard on he had from moments before.
“please”
how could he refuse such a plea, especially from you - nimble hand between his thighs, your eyes merely staring up into his- almost doe like. taking a look down to watch your hand, seonghwa gives some time to deliberately roll his hips into your opposing touch. “fuck y/n,” he curses, his free hand going down to grab your wrist, “you drive me crazy”
you politely giggle, a blush spreading across your cheeks. “enough talk,” taking the lead once more, you lift up onto your toes and lock lips with him. the both of you in yet another fight for control, moans get swallowed and your positions naturally change. lifted up from the ground, seonghwa slows down the kiss and with one hand (not holding your straddling thighs up) opens the backseat door of his car.
the distant conversations and game shouts from over by the bonfire fade out as he sits you down carefully on the seat. “can i take your panties off?” he questions while casually dropping his trunks, or rather peeling off the wet almost plastered fabric - your eyes dart up before you can catch sight of his cock. your blood runs hot and you feel your pussy clench in anticipation, arousal already leaking from your core, “of course” you confirm, readily lifting your hips to help him grab the waistline. silently smiling, your heart swells from hearing his usual ask for consent.
“i love when you smile,” seonghwa cheers, confidently sliding off your underwear and tossing them into the front passenger seat. the remark makes you roll your eyes, “you always say that, come on i’m getting impatient” you groan out, wiggling your hips and slightly opening your legs with a knowing intention. “we can confess all we want after you fuck me, ‘kay?”
seonghwa laughs at this, and you don’t even have time to realize ‘confess’ was your word choice before lips latch to the nape of your neck and an awaited sigh falls from you. his tongue gently swiping across the smooth skin, seonghwa leans over more into you and when his prominent erection brushes against your inner thigh you snake your hand down to fist him.
he immediately shutters under your touch, pausing his peppering to your pulse points. his heavy and shaking breathing only pushes you further, so beginning to fully jerk him off you watch him attentively from below.
“so handsy” he teases with an airy voice, his adams apple bobbing as he swallows hard, “why don't you help yourself baby, yeah?”
wetting your lips another flutter of excitement confines in your lower stomach, and with an agreeing nod you guide him into position. seonghwa swiftly moves in motion with you and does the go ahead and carefully inches himself completely in your cunt.
feeling his dick glide deeper with ease from all your slick, your walls dilate around him and you both moan in unison- followed with a shared giggle.
“much better” you snide, your voices pitch slightly higher as your body adjusts to his size, making his cock twitch. he smiles and once again dips down to kiss you passionately.
sliding himself out slowly he then- with deliberate ease, thrusts back in. your legs wrap around his waist in response and the sounds of pleasure spill out of both your mouths when he breaks from your lips. “so perfect” he huffs out in an awe-like manner, speeding up. the quicker and harder force makes your tits bounce and high pitched cries flood out your open mouth, his dick reaching deep inside your cunt, kissing your cervix with pleasurable ease.
“oh fuck seonghwa” you mewl, looking up with knit brows at the man above, “yes, right there!!” you watch as he smirks and lowers his eyes down, clenching around him tightly in response. feeling your high near closer and closer with every quick thrust. a hiss of buckling euphoria comes out of seonghwa’s clenched teeth, his dick twitching at the sight of him disappearing inside your tight spasming wetness. his thrusts faltering slightly.
“god- y/n baby, where do you want me to come?” he chokes out as he grabs your hips, slowing down his movements. the grip on you shoots to the pit of your stomach and more arousal floods just hearing him all whiny for you, “anywhere please just don’t stop now.”
with your green light, it had seonghwa pounding into you yet again, his hold getting tighter as he burrowed deep with every rut of his hips.
neither of you had time or care to realize the whole car shifting with your bodies.
grunting, seonghwa gives two more rapid thrusts and pulls out just as he reaches orgasm. his cum spurting out on your cunt. he moans heavily while watching it drip all over, “fuckkkk” he curses, and you whine with your bottom lip between your teeth - hips bucking up for more, “im so close hwa, please don’t stop” you tell him again.
his dick used and twitching, seonghwa is quick to carefully slip two fingers inside your pussy. his release mixes in with your slick as he fucks his cum deep with every thrust of his digits. curling his fingers and stimulating your g-spot repeatedly, your jaw goes slack and your body begins to shake with your climax. “yesyesyessss” you cry out, bundle of pleasure snapping. your thighs clamp around his wrist and hips grind down desperately against his wet knuckles as you ride out your high.
heavy breathing is the only sound once the two of your highs come down and he slides his fingers out between your thighs. carefully spreading them for him again, only now he reaches over and grabs a beach towel from the seat behind you- bringing it down to clean up the sticky mess you both created.
smiling, you thank him and sit yourself up, “of course pretty,” he says as he reaches his arm over the passenger seat and grabs his spare change of boxers under your damp panties, bringing them through your ankles. “thank you” he says in return, sliding them up and over your bottom.
he stops and takes a long look at your face.
“you're so beautiful, y/n do you know that?”
this makes you smile shyly and flush, yet you nod- “yes.. you tell me often-”
“i love you” he blurts out, his own face turning a light pink- “and i know this is a weird time to confess but i-” kissing him before he rambles on, you bring your hands up to his face and slowly part with a giggle. “i love you too hwa”
you see his eyes light up with that and his lips fighting a big smile, so you tilt your head back and tease him
“it's okay seonghwa, you can smile at your girlfriend.”
hearing that he complies happily and laughs “i like that sound of that”
“so do i” you reply, “pull up your trunks so we can go back to the boys?” you ask and seonghwa follows, helping you out of his car after his bottoms are back around his hips.
“do you think they suspect anything about us yet?” he says with a joking snort, “oh please, i doubt it” you reply with a wave of your hand.
as the both of you walk your way back to the group, wooyoung is the first to notice your appearance in the dark distance (still in your wet shirt) and says something- or rather screams to the whole group right in yeosang’s ear,
“I THINK Y/N AND SEONGHWA JUST FUCKED!!!”
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house-of-lovin · 10 months
Text
legally binded - 9
Jenna Ortega x F!Reader
masterlist | series mast. | prev. part | next part
Chapter 9 : Grand Prix and Grand Gestures
Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.
Warnings/Tags: famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)
(this is all fiction!)
Note: sorry for the long wait for this new chapter, just enjoying my summer yk! anyways, thanks for your guys' continued support and patience! much love!!
Word Count: 5.6k+
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When Jenna stepped out of her room at precisely 4:45 AM, with the early morning sun yet to rise, the last thing she expected to find was the shared kitchen to be a mess. 
Courtesy of you, of course. ‘Cause who else?
“What the hell are you doing to our kitchen?” Jenna croaked out, running a hand against the plastered wall as a guide as she tiredly rubbed her sleep-filled eyes with the other. When the blurring in her vision goes away, they settle on you looking… wired, like you’d had three cups of espresso already. 
“Good morning!” You whispered, admiring her messy bedhead with a large toothy smile. “I’m making you breakfast.”
“Why?” She asked, voice hoarse. You rolled your eyes as you passed her a steaming mug of coffee without a word causing her to flick a brow up, opting to take a sip instead of questioning it. 
“I’m making you breakfast so you don’t go to work hungry, again.” You explained matter-of-factly, turning your back to check on the stove. The younger actress couldn’t stave off her surprise that you’ve noticed her skipping the most important meal of the day. “Now I’m not the best cook. But, I learned a thing or two about making a mean avocado toast, and since you’re vegetarian… it’s really the only thing I can make you.”
Jenna didn’t expect her heart to be racing so early in the morning. Since your talk, the two of you have been more at ease around the other; falling back into that natural banter, every once in a while. But she can’t lie… the friends' agreement has been difficult to follow through with, especially since you’ve started with gestures such as this. 
The younger actress finds she’s started to… allow herself to enjoy these domestic moments with you, knowing that now, feelings are very much reciprocated — just, without a label yet. 
Placing the steaming mug down on the kitchen island, she chose not to comment on how her coffee was made exactly how she liked it. “I appreciate the gesture, Y/N. I hope you didn’t wake up early just to make me breakfast.”
You turned off the stove, took the pan off the burner, and rolled your eyes. “Get off your high horse, I was already up.” Turning around with the pan still in your hand. 
“You were already up or you didn’t go to sleep?” She countered, expression flat.
You smiled sheepishly, “Jet lag is kicking my ass.”
Jenna snorted and watched as you plated the perfectly-browned toast on a dish and spread some avocados on top; garnishing it with the utmost (adorable) concentration on your face before sliding the plate across the island with a small but proud grin. 
“Consider it compliments of the chef,” you send her a playful wink, glancing down. Jenna follows your line of sight, reading the printed words on the apron. 
Kiss the Chef.
She tried to fight the smile creeping on her face but it proved futile when she felt the familiar warmth enveloping her pale morning cheeks. 
“You’re not as smooth as you think you are…” Was the best response the younger actress could trust herself to utter. “When did you even buy that?”
You laughed, picking up your own cup of coffee. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
Jenna ignored you, electing to take a bite of the toast. She almost felt bad for eating something that you put so much effort towards. But when she takes a bite, she finds herself letting out a muffled moan, making you flush red at the sound. “Holy shit, what did you put in this?”
Plastering a smile, you teased, “it’s a secret.”
“You’re annoying…” Jenna covered her mouth, as she ate. 
“Finish eating or you’ll be late.” You reminded, taking off the apron. The time zone change still messed with your internal body clock, meaning at times, you’d still be up when Jenna awoke for a day of work.
You noted the times she got up and at which of those mornings she managed to eat. After the third day of her waking up late, you decided that the next day you’d be kind and make her a healthy breakfast, knowing it’s often difficult to find time to eat during a busy day of filming. 
“Wait…” Jenna called out before you could leave the kitchen. “What are you doing today?”
You racked your brain; thinking for a moment. “I gotta start packing for Monaco, I leave this Wednesday.”
Jenna remembered you telling her that you’ve been invited to the F1 Grand Prix. She doesn’t really understand the race, but she found your childlike glee over a bunch of cars… endearing. It’s slightly childish that she feels a bit upset by you leaving so suddenly, but these last few weeks have felt blissful ever since your confession. She finds herself wanting to stay in this bubble the two of you have created for as long as she can. “Oh, right…”
“Why, what’s up?”
“Nothing… just wondering ‘cause my family’s actually flying in this weekend,” Jenna admitted, gauging your reaction, noting the way you stood straighter on your feet.
“They are?” 
Jenna hummed. “Yeah, they’re here for a week. They were gonna stay at a hotel but if you’re going to Monaco then…”
You blinked, unsure if you should ask why she didn’t tell you her family was flying in sooner. “Oh yeah, no problem. Listen, it’s your apartment.” 
Jenna rolled her eyes, correcting you, “It’s our apartment. You’re living here too.”
Chuckling, you averted your eyes. “Well, in that case. Mi casa es su casa.”
“Your Spanish needs a bit of work...” But Jenna can’t fight her smile.
“Rude,” laughing, you added, “it’s probably best to skip town though— your family’s probably still mad at me.”
Jenna immediately rounds the counter to stand in front of you, shaking her head in denial. “They’re not mad, Y/N. I already told you.”
You shoot her a grimaced smile, “I know, I’m just joking, but I’m still scared of your sisters… Also, your mom may or may not have texted me about that paparazzi pic of you smoking cigarettes.”
Her brows raised, as her jaw dropped, “she did?”
You hummed in response.
“Fuck…” She grumbled, causing you to laugh. “What did she say?”
“Nothing you haven’t already heard from her Instagram stories…” You smirked, enjoying her annoyed scowl. 
“Shut up.”
“Hey, it’ll be alright.” You placed a hand on her shoulder, lightly rubbing it. Ignoring the way she straightened her posture at your touch. “A scolding is probably the most you’ll get out of her.”
“I’m 20 years old, I can do whatever I want.” Dropping your hand, you laughed again.
“You may think you’re grown but she’s always going to be your mom. She’s just looking out for you. Not to mention, she’s a nurse, what'd you expect?” You jest but she rolled her eyes, staring up at you with a slight pout in her frown causing your heart to stop dead in its tracks; desperately trying to stare at her lips for too long. 
Maybe it was the confession, or the ‘clearing the air’ that you two have done. But every touch and look from Jenna feels weighted — in a pleasant way, this time.
She sighed heavily, leaning her hip on the kitchen island. “I know… it’s just embarrassing.”
“At least you know she cares.” You chuckled, patting her shoulder reassuringly before walking off to the living room. 
She ignored the possible meaning behind your words. Although she’d love to dive into the story of your mom and hear it from your account, maybe having that conversation at five o’clock in the morning isn’t the best idea.
“Come on, finish up and go shower. You’re gonna be late.” You called out behind you before plopping on the couch.
“You better wash those dishes…”
“Ugh, later.” You groaned. “I need a nap.”
Jenna (2:35 PM): hope you’re having a great time in Monaco 🖤
“Get off your phone…” Tom said before snatching the device right from your hand. 
“Dude…”
“You’re in Monaco with the best cars and drivers in the entire world and you’re glued to your phone – what’re you looking at anyway.” the Brit commented, reading the text before you could stop him. “Aw… how cute, she sent a heart.”
“Shut up. You literally made us late ‘cause you spent all night talking to Z.” Attempting to grab your phone back was futile when he held it out of reach, tossing it to Link who was enjoying this interaction judging by the large grin smacked on his face. 
“She’s my girlfriend.” Tom defended but it fell on deaf ears as soon as you saw Link begin to scroll through your past messages with Jenna.
“Link… give it back, I need to respond!” 
“Don’t worry, I’ll text her back.” Link winked before typing a response. You immediately leapt out of your seat, plucking your phone out of his grasp but it was too late, he’d already sent the message.
“Thinking about you? Really?” You deadpanned despite the warmth coursing fervently through your cheeks. “You’re such an ass…”
“You’re just mad that I finally said what you were really thinking.” He called out as you walked away, fingers slightly trembling as you hit the call button. You wait a few (agonizingly long) seconds, listening to the line ring.
“Hey…” 
“Oh, hey,” there was some shuffling on the other line, “I was just about to text you back.” 
“About that… sorry about that text, Link was being an asshole and took my phone.” You muttered sheepishly; trembling fingers picking at your trousers to counter the nerves that suddenly overcame you.
“Oh? So you weren’t thinking about me?” Her tone is light and teasing. You paint a mental image of her bright, wide smile that usually accompanied her playful taunts; it sent a flurry of butterflies swarming around in your belly.
You pass it off as a stomach ache from your breakfast this morning.
“Come on…” You trail off, not wanting to admit it.
“Wow, I see how it is…”
“Jenna…” You sighed, dropping your fiddling fingers. “Of course, I was thinking about you.”
The line is silent as Jenna doesn’t respond and suddenly you feel embarrassed at your school-girl-like confession. Though it’s technically only been two days since you left London for Monaco, you’d be lying straight through your teeth if you were to deny the fact that you’ve been thinking about the younger actress since the moment you stepped out of the shared apartment.
“I’ve been thinking about you too.” Jenna replied in a small voice. Her admittance causes your heart to stop momentarily but what you couldn’t stop, however, was the satisfied smile creeping on your lips.
Was it pathetic that all Jenna had to do was say a simple, cliché sentence to you and you were practically a puddle on the floor? Maybe, but you couldn’t care less about that right now.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah…” 
“Glad we’re on the same page then…” You uttered, glancing around, hoping no one could see your Cheshire grin. Immediately catching Tom and Link at the other end of the balcony making kissing faces at you. You stick up the not-so-nice finger at them before turning your back on the two men, ignoring their blatant and obnoxious laughter, “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything when I called.”
Jenna was supposed to be on set working today, you’d hate to interrupt a busy day’s work…. That’s a lie, this phone call was totally worth it.
“Oh no, you didn’t. I’m actually at the apartment.”
“I thought you’d still be on set?”
“Um, about that…” She trails off in a sheepish tone.
“Jen? What’s wrong?” You asked, panic evident.
“I might’ve—uh—injured myself at work today.” She admitted.
“What?! Are you okay? How? Do you need me to come ba—“
“Y/N… breathe.” She interjects your nervous questioning but it merely goes over your head. Your nerves sky-rocketing the longer she doesn’t answer your questions.
“Are you okay?” You repeated what you really needed to know first.
“I’m fine, I promise,” she chuckled, “just a sprained ankle. I twisted it during rehearsal. It’s not a big deal but they sent me home early to rest.”
“Are you icing it? Keeping it elevated? You know what, send me a picture I wanna see if the swelling is bad.” 
Jenna’s laughter doubles. “I’m okay. I promise. Yes, I'm icing it and yes I’m keeping it elevated. You don't have to play doctor. I’ll even send you a picture, just relax.”
“I’m just worried.”
“I know you are.” She said, almost like she was endeared. “But like I said, it’s just a sprained ankle. They gave me crutches, so I’m good.”
“Crutches?! Do I need to come back home?”
Jenna ignored how her heart swooped at the word: home.
“No,” she laughed, “enjoy your time with the boys and your cars. You looked good on that racetrack, you sure being an actress is your calling?”
You rolled your eyes at her choice of timing for a joke, “You know I’ll leave them in a heartbeat. Just say the word and I’ll be on the first flight back.”
On the other end of the line, Jenna is torn between swooning and mentally cursing you for being so sweet. She bit her lip to subdue the smile creeping in, “that’s very sweet, Y/N, but I promise. I’ll be okay, my family’s flying in on Sunday anyway. I’ll be fine until then.”
You sighed unsurely, “Are you sure?” That’s still a few days where she’d have to be alone until someone could help her around the house.
“Yes! Now go, enjoy Monaco. Maybe I’ll even turn on the racing channel or whatever and get a glimpse of you.”
“You did not just say the racing channel…”
“Go!” She laughed and this time, you relent at her assured tone. 
“Fine… but if anything else happens, call me, please?”
“You’ll be the first one to know, I promise.”
“Okay…” You take a deep breath hoping to calm your nerves. If Jenna says she’s okay, then you have no reason to go against her wishes. “I’ll text you?”
“Mhmm. Bye, be safe.”
“Bye…” You hang up, dropping the phone from your ear, anxiously tapping it against your other hand as you contemplate your options.
“That was a long call,” Link swung his arm over your shoulder, leaning into your side. “You already miss your girl? It’s only been a day.”
“Quit it. She’s not my girl.” You back-hand him squarely on the stomach causing him to heave out a rough, pained puff. The satisfaction of seeing your best friend in pain was a dull noise in the background of your restless thoughts. “She injured herself on set, I was just making sure she’s okay.”
You chewed on your lip nervously, ignoring Link’s probing eyes as he scanned your faraway look.
“Is it serious?”
“No, just a sprained ankle.”
Link continued to observe you; seeing straight through you. An amused smile painted itself squarely on his lips. “... you’re gonna leave, aren’t you?” 
“What the— I told you to stay. What are you doing here?”
“And I told you to send me a picture of your sprain.”
Jenna frowned, closely watching as you slipped the duffle bag off your shoulders; landing on the hardwood with a loud thud. 
“Get back on the couch. You shouldn’t be walking.” You ordered, briefly scanning her head-to-toe and letting out a concealed sigh of relief that her ankle didn’t seem too bad. 
“I’m injured, not crippled.” She replied unamused. You meet her eyes, mimicking her expression until the brunette realized you’re not backing down. “Fine…”
“Let me help you.” You stepped forward, taking a closer look at her injury. Her left ankle was covered in a compression wrap as she hobbled around with a single crutch. 
“I’m fine.”
“Jenna, let me help.” You said in a serious tone, not backing down.
She rolled her eyes, slowly turning around with her crutch to walk back to the living room, hoping you missed her rosy cheeks. She ignored the intense thudding in her chest as you walked together. The thought of you leaving a trip that obviously meant a lot to you, sent the younger actress’ heart into a frenzy. 
“What are you doing here?” The younger actress asked again once she was comfortably seated on the sofa.
You took a seat beside her, “I was worried.”
“I told you I was fine, you’re acting like I’m on my deathbed.”
Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the pillow behind you and placed it between you and Jenna. Scooting back to gesture for her to rest the injured ankle on the pillow. “I wouldn’t have enjoyed the race knowing that you’re back in London with an injury… so, I left.”
Jenna stayed silent, not trusting herself to say what she was really feeling. So she opted to stare as you examined her wrapped ankle, seemingly satisfied that her injury wasn’t as bad as you had thought.
“I’m just trying to be a good friend… and roommate.” You joked, grabbing the discarded remote off the coffee table. Ignoring the way your skin burned the longer she stared at you unspeaking.
Jenna snorted at your words, grabbing the pillow behind her and playfully lunging it at you. You caught the feeble attempt. “Right, roommate.”
You laughed at the tone that accompanied her words, “how did you hurt yourself anyway?”
If Jenna’s cheeks turned any rosier, she’d be the human embodiment of a tomato. It was embarrassing, really and she blames Aliyah for sending that video. 
She might’ve been too distracted watching a clip of you and Tom walking along the racetrack, waving to the crowd. As luck would have it, she was supposed to be rehearsing for a scene, walking over to her next marking. However, one misstep over a wire sent her ankle twisting in an abnormal way. “I wasn’t paying attention to the marking on the floor and I tripped over a loose wire.”
Jenna was definitely not going to tell you the truth. You’d never let her hear the end of it.
You sent her a questioning look, “I don’t know whether to laugh or feel bad.”
“Is it too late for you to go back to Monaco?” She joked, straight-faced.
“I’m kidding, of course, I feel bad.“ You settled back into a comfortable position.
“How did you get back so fast?” She inquired.
“It’s only a two-hour flight.”
Glancing at the clock on the wall, Jenna noted that you were on the phone merely two and a half hours ago. “You got through security that fast?”
You blush red.
As soon as the jet landed on the tarmac and the seatbelt lights turned off, you were posted by the doors; impatiently tapping your foot on the floor.
“Miss L/N, your driver is waiting just outside.” The flight attendant alerted you. You nodded, sending a tight-lipped smile.
“Thank you.”
When the doors opened and the stairs hit the pavement, you were already rushing down the steps, making eye contact with the driver.
“Miss, I can take your bags.”
“That’s alright.” You tossed them in the back seat before shutting the doors. “How fast can you get back to the apartment?”
“GPS says 45 minutes but there is heavy traffic on the highway.” 
“I’ll drive.” You held your hand out. He looked unsure before seeing that you were not playing around, swiftly handing the keys over.
“Yes, ma’am.”
You made sure to tip the man handsomely after noticing his white-knuckle grip on the grab handles as you maneuvered through said traffic.
“Uh yeah and I got lucky, no traffic. Anyways….wanna watch Breaking Bad? Unless you finished it already, in that case, we can watch something else.” You changed the subject, Jenna didn’t need to know how you drove that SUV like it was a race car and broke multiple speeding laws just to get here.
“No, Breaking Bad is good. I haven’t watched it since we were at my parents' house.”
You turn, evidently surprised that she kept your unspoken promise. Trying to hide your growing smile, you face the TV again before the staring becomes too obvious.
“Me too.”
“Are you sure you’re fine to go to work today? It’s only been like, a day.”
It’s Sunday morning, too early for anyone to be awake. With the sky still covered in a blanket of darkness, you tiredly lean against the wall, trying your best to string coherent words together as you reason with Jenna, who lightly limped around the large room as she gets ready for work.
“Technically, it’s been two.” She glanced at you momentarily. “I don’t want to delay production.” 
“Jenna, you're injured. They can get a stand-in or just not film your scenes today.” You argued. Having had your fair share of on-set injuries, you knew that a major film could afford to delay filming for the sake of an injury. This was merely Jenna’s workaholic tendencies making her feel that she couldn’t stop working. “They can and should accommodate for you, Jenna.”
At your gruffed tone, Jenna dropped what she was looking for, walking over to stand in front of you. “Hey…”
You glanced at your hands, ignoring her soft tone. “Look at me, please?”
Jenna grabbed your hand, drawing your attention to her. “I’ll be okay. If my ankle starts to bother me, I’ll let the director know.”
“You promise?” You asked, glancing down when she started rubbing soft lines against your skin.
“I promise.” She squeezed for good measure.
You studied her soft gaze, attentive to the assured glimmer behind them. Letting out a sigh, you pushed your worries aside. “Okay.”
She smiled at your obvious concern, dropping your hand to walk back to the living room. 
You try not to draw attention to the way your fingers twitched at the loss of contact. “By the way, my family will be here at noon. Are you good to be alone with them while I’m at work?”
“Yeah… I think I’ll be fine.” To distract yourself, you walked off to the kitchen, grabbing a mug for your morning coffee; allowing a gentle silence to envelop the room as Jenna hobbled around and gathered her things.
“Crap!” Jenna suddenly said, emerging out of her room.
“What?” You turned, slightly startled. “What’s wrong?”
“I forgot to set up the guest bedroom for them.”
“Oh.” Your shoulders dropped. “I already did it, don’t worry.”
Her brows raised, “you called the housekeeper already?”
“No. I did it myself. We don’t need him.”
Jenna seemed surprised if the raised brows were anything to go by. It was amusing truly, but you elected to stay silent, turning back to make your coffee.
“Thank you…” She finally said.
“Don’t mention it.” You shrugged, “If you want, I can pick up your family at the airport too. Heathrow is a bitch to navigate.”
Jenna didn’t respond, just staring at your back from her spot in the living room. You were unaware of her internal turmoil.
“Jen?” You turned around when you realized she didn’t reply; just staring at you with an unwavering intensity. “Jenna?”
“What?” She blinked a couple of times. “What did you say?”
“I said I can pick up your family from the airport.” You sipped on the steaming mug, a single brow flicking upright in question.
“Oh–uh, no. T-That’s alright, I’m sending a car over to pick them up.” She stuttered pathetically; grateful that the dim lights from the lamp in the corner of the room did well to hide the crimson rising over her neck. “You shouldn’t be seen at Heathrow. You might get spotted.”
“I can wear a disguise.” You thought out loud.
Jenna snorted, pushing away her inner strife. “Oh yeah? Like what, a baseball hat and sunglasses?”
“Hey, it works!” You defended. “Not everyone can just blend in with their height.”
“Was that a short joke?” Jenna arched a sharp brow.
“Nope.” You stood wide-eyed. “Oh hey, I just remembered I left something in my room. Okay. Bye. Have a good day at work.”
Jenna laughed as you scurried off to your bedroom, glad that she hasn’t lost her edge with you.
“I can’t believe you cancelled on the driver.” 
The younger actress said as soon as you swung the front door open. Faintly, she can hear the familiar sounds of laughter farther into the apartment. “You’re so stubborn.”
“You act like that’s a new fact.” You snicker, a pleased smile plastered on your lips. “I’d like an apology by the way. The disguise worked perfectly — just like I said it would.”
“You’re too much sometimes.” She shook her head, stepping into the hall. 
“In the best way, though. Right?” You asked, letting her in.
“If it helps you sleep better.” Jenna shrugged, chucking her work bag on the side table.
“Now look who’s being stubborn.” You replied with a knowing smile.  “Go say hi and then wash up. Natalie and I are making dinner.”
She raised her brows in surprise as you walked away. Her footsteps faltering when she walks into the living room. Gaze instantly landing on her sisters and Dad lounging on the couch, in the corner of her eyes she finds her mom who was chopping up vegetables on the kitchen island. 
“Hey, guys…” She said slowly, still taking the scene in front of her.
“Jen!” Mia sprung up from her seat and tugged her sister into a tight hug. 
One by one, Aliyah, her dad and her mom sauntered over to greet and fret over her. Sentiments of I miss you, echoing in the vast apartment.
“It’s good to see you, honey.” Her mom said with a smile. “I hope you’ve been taking care of that ankle.”
Jenna rolled her eyes at her Mom’s fretting but nodded reassuringly. “I’m okay, Mom. Y/N’s been helping me.”
“So I’ve heard.” She winked, walking away.
“Uh– you guys made yourselves comfortable…” Jenna cleared her throat as she watched how her mom swiftly walked back to the kitchen where you were leaning against the island, observing her family with a small smile.
“Y/N said to make yourselves at home. Blame her.” Aliyah said, tugging her onto the couch. “How’s filming been? How’s working with Winona Ryder, tell me everything!”
“Great uh–what’s for dinner?” Was the first question the actress asked, too distracted by watching your concentrated expression. The slight scrunch in your forehead as you closely listened to her mom’s instructions was more interesting than what her sister was asking her.
“Mom’s teaching her how to make frijoles.” Mia smirked at her sister’s doe-eyed look. 
“Oh…” Jenna replied with a vacant tone. “Sounds good.”
“Do you have any pictures in your wardrobe—“
“Why frijoles?” She added, interrupting Aliyah when she tried to spark another series of questions.
“Y/N heard it was one of your favourites, said she wanted to learn how to make it for you.” Mia replied, her tone smug.
“She did?” Jenna’s brow raised, still unable to look away from you. 
“I think we lost her,” Aliyah sighed to Mia, giving up on having her questions answered.
Jenna rolled her eyes when her sisters burst into laughter, blinking back to reality. “Shut up. What were you saying?” 
She forced herself to look away and give her undivided attention to her sisters. Pretending not to notice as you kept glancing at her from the kitchen.
“Wow this looks amazing, are you sure you helped, Y/N?” Aliyah teased from the dining table.
“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious.” You mocked, walking over with a bowl of guacamole, placing it at the centre of the table. “Wait ‘till you try my guac.”
“I always make the that.” Jenna trailed off, sneaking a peek at the bowl.
“I know.” You took your seat beside her. “Your mom showed me how you like to make it. I hope it’s close.”
“I think I’ll be the judge of that…” She reached for a chip and dipped a large chunk into the green goodness. You watched intently for a reaction but she gave you none; continuing to chew on. 
“It’s good.” She finally says.
“That’s it?”
“What? I said it’s good.” Jenna laughed at your sullen expression; almost feeling bad. Once your bottom lip popped out in disappointment, she dropped her act, reaching for your arm and squeezing it. “I’m kidding. It’s great, it tastes exactly how I make it back home… but you know, you can’t beat the original.”
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.” You repeated her words.
Before Jenna can reply with a quip, her mom walked over with the last bowl of food, disrupting your conversation. But it was all forgotten when the younger actress’ nose welcomed the familiar scent of all of her favourite dishes. She enthusiastically eyed the various dishes scattered on the table, not having had her family’s cooking in what felt like forever. Living with you wasn’t bad – actually, it’s been more than great, but you were serious when you said you lacked skills in the kitchen. That resulted in dinners mostly being take-out these days.
“Have you tried frijoles before?” Jenna asked you. 
“Uh–no.” You blushed. “I actually didn’t even know they were beans until today.”
“You’ll love it.” She grinned, reaching over to plate you a generous helping. You refused to tell her that you didn’t necessarily love beans because her excited expression overpowered any dislike you had for the legume.
“You’re still up?” You called out after a brief glance, the pitter-patter of light footsteps coming down the hall, alerting you of her presence.
“Mhm, I heard the clanking of dishes from my room.” She replied, leaning against the counter, watching as you dried off the dishes one by one. “What’re you doing?”
“Sorry. I’ll keep it down.” You grimaced apologetically. “I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d unload the dishes.”
“It’s okay, I’m actually not too tired too.” She stepped forward, only an arm’s length away from you. “Can I help?”
Wordlessly, you passed her a dry cloth and a bowl from the dishwasher. For a while, silence enveloped the room. You were grateful that you and the brunette can exist in silence, sometimes. Her mere presence provided a certain level of comfort that you’re still trying to get used to.
“So…” She spoke up after a few minutes, gaining your attention. “You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh.”
You raise an amused brow at the baiting look in her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Jenna would’ve believed that statement if it weren’t for the small smile at the corner of your lips telling her otherwise.
“Right… so, you just pick up all your friends’ parents from the airport and do chores, willingly.”
“I’m turning over a new leaf.” You shrugged, continuing to wipe away remnants of water from the plate. Hoping the mundane action hid your trembling fingers well.
“Oh, are you?”
“Yup.”
“So this isn’t you trying to win me over?”
“Me try to win you over? Whaaat?” You puffed out an airy scoff, “that’s ridiculous. I would never. I wholeheartedly respect your decision.” 
But the crinkle in your eyes told her that you were enjoying this way too much.
“Sure…” Jenna rolled her eyes, “even if you are just doing this out of the kindness of your own heart—“
“Which, I am.”
Jenna sends a playful glower at your interruption. 
“Just wanted to put that on record.” You added.
“Thank you.” Jenna declared, her tone soft yet serious. “You’ve been incredible these last few days.”
“Oh.” You blink, a pleased smile plastered on your face. “You’re welcome, Jen. It’s no big deal.”
“It’s a big deal to me.” The bowl and cloth in her hands were long forgotten on the counter as she closed the distance between you. “No one’s ever done any of… this, for me—thank you.”
The air feels charged as she suddenly looks at you with that doe-eyed stare. Feeling like your heart rate instantly doubles, the longer she stares at you like that.
“What? Be nice?” You said evenly, “You need to set your standards higher.”
She huffed at your antics. “I’m being serious.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” you laughed shakily, trying to gather some semblance of control over your racing pulse. “Like I said, it’s not a big deal, Jen… cause I’d do anything for you.”
She blinked, voice caught in her throat she took in the serious glint in your eyes; voice dripping with conviction 
“And this isn’t me trying to win you over. You’ll know when I do.”
The younger actress’ body feels like it’s on fire the longer she listens to your words. 
“Uh, sorry, too much?” You said apologetically when she remained unspeaking. 
But Jenna was already shaking her head, a faraway look in her eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher. 
“No…” She murmured, her sight drifting down to your lips before they flicker back up to your eyes. “Not at all.”
“Okay…” Your gaze bore intently into hers, waiting to see if she’ll make the first move. “Good.”
For a brief moment, her eyes flicker back down for a second time but then she’s blinking out of her self-induced stupor, “um–I should go to sleep. I need to be up early.” Jenna hoped her ogling on your soft lips wasn’t too obvious. 
She steps back and almost instantaneously, the tension in the room dissipates with each movement she takes. 
You nod, smiling softly despite the slight tinge of disappointment you felt; knowing that you shouldn’t rush into this with her. “Good idea, you should rest your ankle… good night, Jenna.”
Just before you turned back to grab the discarded dry cloth, Jenna takes a hesitant step—before she can lose her nerve and leaned up to plant her lips on the pad of your cheek.
Your brain felt like it short-circuited; not having felt her lips in forever as your skin burned against the delicate contact.
“Good night, Y/N.” She whispered, her soft lips grazing your cheek in a way that drove you crazy.
Before your brain could rewire itself well enough to form a response, Jenna was already turning around to retreat back to her room.
Biting your lip to contain the growing smile, you couldn’t look away from her figure until she disappeared behind the door.
Shit…
You’re in deeper than you thought.
——
if there was any mistakes… look away (i tried my best 🧍‍♀️)
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velvetures · 9 days
Text
Got Me Snoring pt.2
A/N: I'm so sorry it took so long... I've been doubting doing a part two simply because the first blew up like... crazy... and I'm afraid this one isn't going to measure up to the first. But THANK YOU to everyone for the love on part one... it's wild how much you all liked it. I appreciate all of you thirsty fuckers. Summary: Ghost is set on giving you the same change of perception on reviving head after figuring out just how bad you are at taking care of yourself. T/W: NS/FW 18+ ONLY, cunnilingus, size kink if you squint, spit?, lots of fem! fluids, a little male fluids..., cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and I'm still terrified this is gonna suck.
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You woke up with a sore throat.
No doubt or haze in your mind about how it happened or why. And the only thing you could think was the word big…. big… big…
God, Ghost was so fucking huge. You nearly mistook the images in your mind for a dream. One so goddamn filthy you’d not be able to look him in the eyes. Only one of those big hands was sprawled over your belly. Fingers digging possessively into the little bit of pudge under them. Denting your skin and steadily reminding you of the rest of his body melted against the back of yours. You’d not moved an inch all night. Highly unusual on a normal day, but not with your Lieutenant sharing the bed.
Sharing a seat on the plane home wasn’t familiar either.
He felt inhumanly warm with his arm rubbing yours as the jet stream rocked the cabin of the plane. And the looks shared between the others as they watched the pair of you didn’t make your skin feel any cooler. Gaz staring at the spot where Ghost’s thigh rested against yours nearly made your pants singe. You couldn’t believe Ghost was just sitting there with his head leaning back against the wall. Maybe sleeping… he wasn’t really moving much. But you couldn’t tell. Nor possess enough confidence to look up or nudge him and find out.
Your sore throat ached a bit too. Raw, and making your voice scratchy, it’d been hard to give a solid ‘good morning’ without everyone asking if you’d come down with something. Your only thought was how Ghost came down something… and you had swallowed. A thought that felt good to hear in your own head… at least when Captain Price wasn’t looking at you with sharp, observant eyes.
Surprisingly, Ghost wasn’t the one who made you feel anxious. He’d been… different in leading up to the flight home. Having your bag packed before you’d noticed, getting you up before the others…. ‘Answer their questions later, little one.’ he’d whispered, masked mouth heating up your ear as he murmured so closely to it. Thoughtful… you’d decided. Realizing only after he’d solved the problem that waking up in bed with him would’ve caused a stir amongst the boys. He even made you tea… the way you like it; With some thick honey at the bottom. No doubt for your rasping voice.
No. Ghost was different.
No one had the gall to mention the Lieutenant strangely shadowing you though. Like you’d suddenly gained a massive black phantom tagging alone at your heels. On missions he would linger close by without anyone noticing, but that just felt… professional. Watching his wide shoulders slump towards yours while sitting on a shitty, makeshift, bench in a cargo plane? That was a whole different look. Even Price spent a good half hour chewing on an unlit cigar, trying to work out what you two had talked about the night before for Ghost to act like this. It was clear though. None of them suspected anything close to what actually happened.
Sitting next to him felt surreal. Especially when he’d been the one who silently insisted that you sit next to him. Having snatched you by your belt and tugged you onto the bench beside him instead of letting you find somewhere mushed between Gaz and Soap like normal. A low grunt of a sound and a firm nod pointed in your direction once he got a look at you sitting next to him much more shyly than normal.
You could smell his cologne, and memorize the tattoos peeking out close to his wrist. Feel his leg twitch to steady himself in his seat when the plane shook a bit. Even listen to the sound of his steady breathing. A whole new experience you’d not really thought about trying before. You nearly felt like you were learning Ghost all over again. Taking every small movement and reexamining it. Because… you couldn’t deny that he had readjusted his view of you.
A blowjob shouldn’t have felt that… intimate, you thought. Remembering the undeniably filthy things Ghost had said. It should’ve left you fulfilled… but not like you actually were. Some warm, expanding feeling, filling up your chest and making you want to hide your face and giggle. A grade school crush level of nervous energy you’d never felt towards a man before. Yet here you were, sitting there half-dumbstruck, watching your Lieutenant stretch his long legs and sigh softly as the landing gear rolled to a stop on the tarmac.
“Comin’?” He muttered, voice level. Maybe a bit impatient as those dark eyes settled on you.
Normal… you reminded yourself. He wasn’t talking you differently; No need to over analyze everything. Letting him lead was the smartest thing. The only way, really.
“Yeah,” Your voice makes you hesitate to say anything more. “Just got stuck staring…”
Ghost doesn’t show any real reaction. Just nods, and grabs his rucksack off the floor next to him. Wordlessly taking yours along in the same hand, walking off with -essentially- everything you had. Suddenly motivating you to not only move your ass off the plane, but follow his long strides to wherever it was he was possessed to go. And whether or not the others even noticed, you didn’t have the luxury of worrying about.
The Lieutenant had your weapons… and your only clean pair of pants.
You didn’t have to follow him far though. Only walking a few meters past your own quarters and down a hallway. Staring at the wide gap between his shoulder blades and the heavy sway that rocked the belt clipped around his hips.
He had your bag tossed next to his on a desktop inside his room without a single trace of the fact it wasn’t a habit. Sitting down heavily and reaching over stiffly to tug at the laces of his boots. Toeing them off with small squeaks of new leather and sitting them under the desk. Either purposefully staying silent to listen to your brain working, or totally unaware that you were stupidly standing there, watching your Lieutenant do a decidedly human thing with wide eyes.
“Come’ere…”
Ghost took off your boots just as simply as his own. Quiet, leaned over your foot propped up on his thigh and not even mentioning your hand resting on his shoulder to steady yourself. Feeling him tug the blouse out of your pant legs, and gently squeeze at your ankle to hold your foot steady.
You didn’t know how to feel about it.
Mortified… maybe. For the simple fact that you had worn the same socks for two days and his head was too close for comfort. Touching you. At least, touching you in a way that wasn’t meant for sex. It didn’t feel like you were doing enough. Weren’t providing him anything.
Guilty… yes? This wasn’t something normal in any situation. You hated a return. It’s what made you feel like you were causing a problem. Made laying low and staying quiet a habitual behavior. And Ghost being the one bent over and struggling to undo the tight knots in your laces? Nearly unacceptable. He didn’t need to… shouldn’t lower himself like that.
Ghost noticed it and you tried to beat him to the punch.
“You don’t have to-”
“Look like you’re gonna faint.”
That hand squeezing softly on your ankle tightens a little before releasing, gliding up your calf and patting you softly before guiding it off his leg. Those dark eyes look up and down your clothes, over your decidedly nervous expression, and back down to your boots before sitting them right next to his.
“Don’t tell me…” he mutters, leaning back in his chair, hands resting on his hips. “You’re not a fan of receiving… are you?”
~
The next two days, you leaned quickly that what was his, suddenly had made room to account for you as well. Almost instantaneously you’d been accounted for in just about every single way you could think of. You washed laundry… you found it put away in one of his drawers. You ordered food to base… it was in his room, not yours. Tried to get into your old quarters… the key wouldn’t open it anymore.
How he’d managed it, you didn’t even want to know. But, Ghost effortlessly took into account every single thing necessary to move you into his life without even a single question. And managed to do it perfectly. You couldn’t question it either, since he’d accomplished the endless tasks to such a degree of attention that you weren’t sure a man could even reach.
“Um, have you seen my black jeans?” The question felt a bit odd, and so did standing in the doorframe of his bathroom with a towel wrapped around you.
“Top drawer. In the closet, next to my pants.”
You couldn’t quite adjust this easily. Not that it wasn’t what you wanted per se. You’d enjoyed Ghost’s company more than anyone else the past couple days. And while he’d been accommodating, it wasn’t like he was bowing to your feet. He came and go as he wanted and didn’t crowd you like he was clingy either. However he did make you feel uneasy with how little he made a fuss about doing something for you.
You never asked for him to do anything. Yet he managed to do everything you ‘hadn’t gotten around to’. And worst of all, when it was time to sleep, he wouldn’t lay down until you eventually caved in and crawled under the blankets first. Almost like he was letting you get settled exactly how you wanted before even thinking about moving closer. No sex. No outward attempt at it. Not even a subliminal hint that he wanted more of your mouth, or anything else for that matter.
It nearly broke you. Or, better spoken, broke your perception of how you expected him to act. Which, made sense considering Ghost wasn’t anything close to the men you’d been with previously. They were always pushy… and he didn’t even push you to your side of the bed when you unconsciously wormed your way to his side at night. Your exes treated sex like a favor needing to be owed. And Ghost wouldn’t begin to act like he’d ever thought about the possibility despite having fucked your throat like he owned it.
Your jeans were indeed in the drawer next to his. And he did ask you to grab a pair of his as you retrieved yours, adding on that you’d be leaving in fifteen minutes… unless you needed more time to get ready.
You finished up in less than ten.
A bar on a Saturday night was Soap’s idea. Drinks, a few cigars, and the whole task force was his way of ‘team bonding’ and no one had a good enough excuse to deny him. Especially when there was a new mission lingering in the next couple weeks, and Price already had the files on hand. You thought it was a bit cliché. Sitting in a musty bar, listening to Price talk over the music about terrain, entry points, possible back-up, and the preemptive teams he was putting together.
It seemed his mind had been working just as hard as yours over the past days. Only you were preoccupied with Ghost’s hand firmly kneading at your thigh under the table. His thumb working at a sore spot just up and to the right of your knee. Forefinger squeezing to alternate the pressure and resist from making the movements feel too harsh. Looking far too relaxed while scanning a document and flipping through the pages with his free hand.
You’d resisted for hours at this point. Forcing yourself to stay quiet and not say something about it. Reminding yourself he was just doing it because he wanted to. Not because he thought he’d get something out of it. He wasn’t holding out. Every time his skilled fingers found another sore spot that made you twitch, you needed to physically clamp your mouth shut or take a drink so you didn’t tell him to stop.
“Another round?” Gaz held up a few bills in his hand, looking around the table.
When everyone agreed, you lost the willpower to sit still. Straightening up and trying to scoot towards the edge of your seat.
“I’ll go up since you’re paying.” The rush in your voice was lost on everyone. Everyone but the man who suddenly locked down with a vice grip on your leg.
Ghost didn’t even flinch. Still looking at the file in his hand, but that cold grip on you didn’t hesitate. Gluing you to your seat and enhancing the sudden sensation of his fingertips dipping under the ripped material stretching over your thigh. You couldn’t understand it. Dumbly trying a second time to stand up, only for it to earn you a side-eyed glance and a slight pinch to your exposed skin.
“No.” he muttered, chin jutting out in the direction of the man, already heading towards the table after seeing Gaz pull out cash .“The waiter’s comin’.”
And right on cue, a younger guy walked up and began taking orders. Going around the table, and stopping at Ghost was a very familiar kind of apprehension on his face after seeing that black mask stretched over his face. If only he could see under the table at the way your thigh was shaking from the soft touches.
“Nothin’ for us,” Such a cool dismissal of the guy that you hardly even notice what he said. “Price, leavin’ out.” He added, moving his hand to palm the back of your neck easily. Giving the slightest tug to get you up out of your seat as well.
“Little one’s comin’ with me.”
Not a soul at the table questions it.
~
Against the wall yet again.
Not unlike the first time… Ghost has a pattern. You’re breathless, but much more unaware of how this situation is going to play out. He hadn’t said a word in the drive, and kept the tightest sightline out the windshield you couldn’t even see his irises from your profile view in the passenger seat. The second he could spot the door to his room? His big body bullied yours right where he wanted it. Keeping you pacified by a hand over your mouth and dark, plotting eyes glaring down.
“Why’d you do that?” His question further raised the questions in your head. It’s all you can do to shrug, as if you had much autonomy over the rest of your body at this point anyways.
“At the bar,” The clarification deepens his irritated tone. “Why’d you take orders like that, huh? Like some fuckin’ maid.”
“You all wanted drinks.”
Unfortunately it’s not the answer he wanted, and you’re hauled that much further up the wall. Only now, you’re suspended fully off the ground. Balanced on his forearm jammed between your thighs; feeling his palm flat against the wall. God, it felt fucking ridiculous. He shouldn’t been able to do it, but he wasn’t even shaking. Dead calm and just watching you unintentionally grind down more on his arm the longer you’re forced to stay like that.
“I got my own.”
You nearly catch an attitude. Wanting to mention that it’s just ‘polite’. And for that matter, you’d not paired for a single drink all night. So, naturally it was only fair you go get them… You settle on saying something a bit more safe. Maybe more manageable even with how little your mouth wants to function.
“I didn’t pay.”
Ghost just snarls, head tilted and looming closer.
“I don’t fuckin’ care,” His hips flinch forwards, jamming against you to send the point home. And you’re not stupid enough to ignore that he’s hard. The long, thick line of his cock disappearing under the edge of his belt; tucked safely to have been able to escape the bar without anyone throwing looks his way.
“Stop doin’ shit just because.” He growls out a bit more directly. “Do it because you want it.”
His point skims over your understanding. “I do what I want!”
“Sure, sweetheart.” The dismissal is soft enough you know he’s not totally pissed.
“When’s the last time you made yourself feel good, huh?” He pauses, giving you a glimpse of his tongue licking his lips under that mask. “I think I remember you sayin’ you’ve faked it plenty of times… How many times is that? How many times you ignored that pussy cryin’ for attention?”
You get it. Oh, you finally understand… And damn it your face doesn’t burn hot with the realization that he’d caught on to just how bad you were about prioritizing yourself. Not even the dull, thudding pressure of your cunt sitting directly in his muscled forearm is enough to distract you from it. The mind game over, and Ghost holding yet another victory in his hand.
“I.. I don’t know,” You look away, unwilling to admit it. “A few times.”
“Bullshit,” He grunts, jerking his lower body against yours yet again. “You might not know that… but you do know how many men… don’t ya, sweetheart?”
Chest caving in defeat, you answer. “Five.”
Ghost’s chuckle is almost patronizing. A deep, rumbling one low in his chest that makes chills run up your back. Purposefully his wrist rotates a bit and your clit rolls over a thick muscle. You’re helpless to hide the pinched yelp it earns him, and it only makes him chuckle for longer. If you’d been in any other position, it would’ve been music to your ears. Now it just felt… punishing. Arousing beyond belief, yes, but still a bit of a sting to your pride.
“Five boys…” He muses aloud. “Not a fuckin’ one with enough sense to breathe without thinkin’.”
He stills for a moment, eyebrows furrowing over dark brown eyes. A debate in his head.
“Then i’ll teach you…” He nods once. Firm and resolved to the decision. His free hand coming up to trace your jawline with a reverent, almost scared touch. “Now that you’re mine… I’ll teach you how to be selfish.”
“S’not like I don’t know how.” It’s a wonder you’re able to sound that confident between the pressure to your cunt and the way he’s talking to you. Unflinching as always, he just smirks under that mask.
“Gonna show you how easy it is… to take pleasure. How to enjoy it.” Each word falls from his lips like thick honey. Whatever he’s planning so fucking rich in his kind that even his mouth slows and his accent thickens at the mere imagination of it. “You’re gonna learn to be good for me… and M’gonna start with that little pussy…”
One dangerous look down at where your thighs are trying to clench together freezes you.
“Not gonna let her be ignored anymore…”
~
Ghost’s tongue curls through your swollen, sensitive, lips; helping guide himself to your pulsing clit. Humming victoriously when your stomach flexes and your body jerks away from the steady pressure. Each lick is the same. Dragging up your slit and purposely spitting against your hole until you both can feel it dripping between your cheeks. Taking his time like this was almost painful. Feeling the twitch of his jaw against your inner thighs and hearing his thick swallows as he drank down your arousal.
It almost made you feel queasy, being the sole focus of this. Your hands unable to find somewhere to rest. Feet unwilling to settle on his back or off to the sides, like you knew you probably should be. Ghost was so intense that you shook. Muscles tremoring around his head and exciting him that much more. You were still stiff though, and it showed. Much to his excitement, it meant that he’d have that much more time between your legs. More opportunities to take you out of your head and throw you into a totally new one.
“It ain’t my mouth makin’ you shake, little one.” He murmurs, almost like he’s talking to your cunt instead. It’s hard to reply when those dark brown eyes lay locked on you from between your slicked thighs.
“I… I don’t know…”
Ghost just chuckles, kissing your inner thigh. Both hands slipping between your legs and using his thumbs to spread you open for him. Heavy eyes looking at your glistening hole covered in his saliva. Spitting on you yet again, and letting out a deep, satisfied sigh when your breath evaporates from the sheer sight of it.
“M’gonna make you feel everythin’ they couldn’t,” your eyes nearly roll back in your skull when he blows a soft, cool, breath over your hot skin. “You’ll memorize what my tongue feels like in your cunt… never gonna come empty again…”
You clench when those words come out more like a threat than a promise. Having heard that tone so many times sitting in on his interrogations. Always relating it to pure torture and the promise of wishing for death over being rested in Ghost’s hands. Only now it was startling just how badly you wanted to hear him speak like that again. Never having heard anyone sound so fucking serious about sex, or find yourself reacting so desperately. Your eyes scrunching shut and your head falling back against the bed, nearly pained with anticipation and a healthy dose of the most fearful arousal you’d mustered.
“Ghost - please, please… just, god take it easy on me.” Your voice is soft, pleading. Actually a bit timid of how far he planned on taking this. Of course he wouldn’t hurt you. You trusted him that much. But pleasure could be just as effective of torture, and Ghost was well-versed.
Another kiss presses to your thigh, “Nothin’ without your permission,” Those dark eyes gain crinkled lines at the corners though as he smiles. “But you’ll like it, little one. Every disgustin’ thing m’gonna do to make this pussy cream…”
His thumb glides over your outer lips, toying with you. Gentle to avoid sensitive spots and draw this out, but mean enough to remind you just how dedicated he was.
“Yeah, baby… you’re gonna look so good when I lick the fuckin’ come out of you.”
His mouth descends over you without another moment of hesitation. Still slow, but now it’s not just his tongue lapping at you. It’s his lips, rough with a couple days neglected of shaving. His teeth -which make you jump at first- pinching and nipping. But it’s all in the perfect pressure. Somehow fully aware of how sensitive you are right now and that the slightest move could be far too much. Reversing your twitches of apprehension into soft rolls of your hips against his face. Allowing you to guide him without a word. Learning how you want it whether or not you ever realized that it was guiding him better than a map.
You loved the slow, consistent pressure around your clit. Not rubbing right over it like he was sure you’d been subjected to before. No… you needed it softer. Sweeter. Just how a pretty girl like you deserved. Circles with a flattened tongue and his fingers working inside you. Even then, you got so fucking tight when he didn’t pull his fingers out all the way. Instead letting you milk them as the pads of his fingers curled against that textured, upper wall needing attention.
God, it was so easy. You had such beautifully clear reactions. What felt good, you’d nearly hold still for. As if you’d never felt it before and couldn’t withhold from the desperate curiosity. And when it didn’t, such polite grinds and roll of your hips would be almost too helpful in moving the bridge of his nose or his tongue to where you wanted it.
Ghost couldn’t remember the last time he ate pussy with such rapt attention. Enjoy it had always been easy. The taste, the sounds, feeling in control… any man in his right mind would relish in it. But you? You made his hard cock brushing up against the mattress fall to a true afterthought. He didn’t even care that there was enough precum drooling from his tip to soak through denim jeans.
Your first orgasm is a beautiful accident. Ghost’s body isn’t even what earns it. It’s his fucking mouth saying the nastiest things imaginable with a busy tongue stroking your clit. Rambling low and sluggishly, a thick lisp when his bottom lip tries to slide across your pussy on the right syllables.
Good job, tha’s it… s’good for me.
Keep fuckin’ drippin’ like that.
Stay right there -just like that- let me lick her clean baby…
You come quick and hard. Not even getting to relish in the feeling of release that wasn’t by your own hand before Ghost is working for another. It’s the most impatient habit he’s got and won’t deviate. Using the clench of your pussy around him to advantage by working you open all over again. Purposefully providing that “first touch” stretch throughout orgasms like a reset. Short term memory erasure of all his hard work just to massage at your shaking legs as gentle reassurance.
“Don’t — Don’t stop.” Your panting. Wanting to warn him as the second approaches a bit slower.
You’re still nervous to perform, but the edge is off. Having been given just enough reassurance that you can, in fact, come from someone else’s touch. But the slight tremor in your voice hints at the hesitation you have to come again.
Enough time elapsed to overthink what you sound like. How you appear from this angle and anything in between that has been a problem before now. Ghost doesn’t move an inch. The only thing he does is take a steady deep breath and move one arm to rest his forearm on the bed. Like he’s settling in.
Getting fucking comfortable.
And he stays just like that until you’re shoving yourself up the bed and away from his chasing mouth to try and take at least one complete breath. Your feet sliding in the sheets and the hair on the back of your neck getting cold once it’s not matted to the pillow. Previous experience anticipates that it’s the end. That Ghost isn’t going to follow. That he’ll take the credit for making you come twice, and enjoy a fluttering, wet cunt around his cock.
His face is next to yours and his swollen lips are kissing your temple over and over sweetly. One hand keeps his heavy weight off of you while the other gently reaches to your neck. Holding your head to ease the acute angle of it and shyly feel your pulse. You’re too dazed to see the look on his face. How relaxed he is, counting your heart beats and watching sweat slide across your temple and get caught in the baby hairs there. Observant, but utterly obsessed by this moment. Drinking in self-satisfaction and the much more addictive taste of seeing you fall apart under him.
“I got you. I’m here, breathe baby.” Keeping his chest close, he exaggerates his own. Pressing against you, grounding the feeling.
“It’s so much.” Admitting it makes you feel awful. Like you’re not enjoying it more than anything you’ve felt before. But you’re unable to explain just how raw your nerves feel. Terrified that if he touches your clit again it would bring real tears to your eyes.
Ghost moves closer, sharing body heat you didn’t know you even wanted. “I know, little one… you’re so sensitive. S’okay.” He answers, gently reaching down to pull both your thighs together and against him.
Curling you to his body and holding your legs to help ease the radiating pleasure signals thrumming in your pussy. His hand rubbing your outer thigh, squeezing at the stretched muscles in your hip. Dissipating the tightly-wound lower half of your body that is still expecting his fingers to touch you again. Split between wishing he would force another orgasm out of you and nearly passing out from overstimulation.
Ghost knows better though. You’d gone too long without someone else controlling your pleasure that it was going to be hard enough. And a second only compounded your body’s response. In the moment he felt possessed to prove a point. Really, the same one you had for him. But the moment you scurried back, that part of his brain turned off. Keeping you safe in this state was just as important as anything else. He didn’t want you faking anything again. That included when you felt like you couldn’t take more.
“We’re done, baby…” he kisses your cheek, tasting the sting of salt on his lips. “No more; jus’ easy touches… M’not gonna play anymore.”
It works wonders, simply taking the guesswork out of this. Allowing your legs to fully sag against him, trusting those fingers grazing up and down. Even your head letting go of the remaining tension holding you off the pillow. Ghost can’t help but smile. Kissing you yet again. And again. Helping himself to the sounds of your breaths evening out and the softness of your dewy skin on his mouth.
His hot body sticks to yours a bit, but it’s comfortable. Helps you feel secure, laying there balled up and trying to work through the multiple sensations still making it nearly impossible to open you eyes and look at him. Desiring to say a simple ‘thank you’ or at least, give him a smile just to show that you’re appreciative. Another one of those nasty little things you’re convinced is necessary right after the deed. Poised to give positive reinforcement at the first moment so the guy won’t run off.
“Th-thank you,” The way you say it almost sounds guilty to Ghost. Even the hand rubbing you doubles down, more firmly. Like he’s hoping to keep his own emotions in check by reminding himself of how skewed your perceptions are.
“S’not a ‘thank you’,” He replies, lips against your ear, feeling the easy, toothless, smile he’s got. “Told you the other day… I wanted it. Wanted you.”
Your eyes do open then. Hearing him refer back to the mission. Like he’s not the least bit affected by it in an embarrassed kind of way. Adding that much more reinforcement to the nearly unbelievable idea that he’s actually meant it and not just so he could get a bit closer to you. Surely he couldn’t, right?
“You mean that?”
Ghost’s eyes brighten, and he chuckles very deeply. Bumping his forehead against yours.
“You and your sweet pussy aren’t going anywhere.”
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requests are thanks to: bvxygriimes bobochacha kmcmpmd simonsslvt verynastyspoon featherbrainedangel flower-olive riri-is-a-girlie bii-aan-ckaa mxshpitmom stormy-knight134 glocuseguardian3rd variety-fangirl and about eight anons that I can't tag unfortunately :(
you're all so lovely and I want to give you each a big smooch
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reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3
my ask box is always open, but fair warning I'm slow haha
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angelltheninth · 5 months
Text
Done When I Say
Paring: Sasuke Uchiha x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, free use mention, sex to destress, overstimulation, rough sex, orgasm control, sex work, degradation, name-calling, Sasuke is an asshole but what else is new
Word count: 0.6k
A/N: Sasuke commission, god I hope this isn't too edgy and brooding. It's hard to write for him!
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There was no doubt that he knew how to fuck you. With how many times he'd done so he'd learned every weak spot you had. A man like him would exploit them to his full benefit and pleasure, yours was just a bonus that he allowed to happen.
"Again." You heard his order from behind you coupled with the lightning fast smacking of his body against yours. "I'm not feel it. Didn't you hear me whore? Or did you lose your ability to understand words?" He doubled his efforts and pulled your ass a little higher, his cock at least reacting to the sight.
Feeling yourself get fucked by him was a weekly occurrence, it was routine, and so were your orgasms, happening when he deemed it necessary. "I just came. I'm still sore from it." You knew that didn't mean anything to him, he wasn't in the brothel to hear your excuses.
"Do you honestly think I care? I payed you to get fucked didn't I? I payed damn well. So you will do as I say and come around my cock." Sasuke's voice was almost deadly calm. If it weren't for him rutting into you and his cock pulsing with new waves of cum you wouldn't know if he felt good or not. Men like him were always tricky, but made you feel so good, which is why despite his attitude you looked forward to Sasuke's visits after training.
You let yourself go for him, focused on his hands, his cock, his balls slapping your clit, his cum trickling between your legs and onto the futon. The orgasm was borderline painful, ripped out of your sensitive pussyhole by him.
"Stop." The word bolted through your body so painfully. With great effort you forced your orgasm to stop, for your cunt to stop spasming around him.
"You're so cruel Sasuke." He hummed in response, if you could even call it such. He was already on the verge of ejaculation, your body responding so beautifully to him only spurred him on more.
"For someone who craves cock so much you have incredible self-control." That was as close to a compliment as Sasuke ever gave you. "Hold still, don't come." Two commands that he grunted out as he kept fucking his cock into you, the slaps echoing, probably heard by the other people in the brothel, maybe even in the street down below seeing as the window was open.
Your pussy gleefully took his thick, warm cum, as did your womb so happy that it's finally him who gets to claim it. "P-Plea-"
"Yes." That was the only word you needed to make your cunt pulse around his cock once again, finally finishing the orgasm that was interrupted before. Sasuke never moaned for you, he was fully silent even while he emptied himself inside of you, fucked you through it all and then pulled out to let the white mess spill out. "Fucking messy. Can't you even pretend not to be a free use slut? Used for the pleasure of any man who pays you." You were below him, but you served his needs so he didn't mind getting messy with you, "Close your legs, you're making it worse."
You let your body spread against the sheets and crossed your legs one over the other, your back and ass on full display for him.
"Hm. Some other time." You heard him mumble as he got dressed and tossed a coin purse beside you. "Extra. Don't ask why, just be grateful."
"O-Oh. Thank you. Thank you very much" If you had the strength you would have gotten up to greet him as he left. But you did meet his eyes right before he jumped through the window, the moonlight shining over his jet-black hair. It always looked so soft, you wondered if he'd let you touch him one of these days. He left with a nod and you were left there to catch your breath.
When you looked and counted the money you noticed there was indeed extra. More than enough to give you a break from work until he visited again next week.
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mrsackermannx · 7 months
Text
Honey, I’m home…
GOJO SATORU X FEM READER MDNI
tags: ceo/dad/husband gojo, smut, light degradation (use of slut twice), not pet play but he calls her a kitty, exhibitionism (gojo is on a zoom call), teasing, one shot.
wc: 3.7k
a/n: after the manga and the anime last week, this was needed for me to revive (an oldie from the drafts) 😭 not to mention spanish uni is kicking my ass so satoru is keeping me sane rn hahaha 🫣
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Eating breakfast alone was seldom done in the Gojo household, because Satoru liked the kind of breakfasts that looked like they do in the movies. 
An assortment of brightly coloured fruits and pancake stacks, his wife by his side, a smug grin on his face as he sipped his coffee and asked everyone what they’d be doing with their day. The odd dad joke or two, or more. 
You snorted quietly at the thought, pausing at the fridge door. The kids were at Megumi and Yuuji’s, so they couldn’t tease you for being sentimental, or groan at the photos their embarrassing father insisted be plastered to the fridge.
Heart shapes, letters, bunnies, an assortment of magnets stuck decades worth of fond memories to the appliance. Your daughter’s first birthday, with Satoru at her side helping her blow out the candles, your second son’s first time at a water park on Satoru’s shoulders, last Christmas vacation in the Philippines.  
Your eyes crinkled as you took notice of your favourite one, stroking the scrawl of Satoru’s handwriting on the Polaroid’s border. “Mr and Mrs Gojo.” 
The polaroid was the lovesick image of you and Satoru in Italy for your honeymoon.
You can remember the warmth of the evening, and how pink the sunburn was on the tip of his nose. Oh how the sun had bronzed the nape of his neck, making his white hair all the more a stark contrast. His cologne was sweet and intoxicating as his large hands dwarfed your cheeks, as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. You could feel his smile as he did so, laughing at the cheers that engulfed you both. The faces visible behind you both were flushed and merry as your hands clasped. 
One of your favourite photos.
Your husband’s position as CEO of his clan’s company afforded all the luxuries a woman and a family could desire. But sometimes everybody needed Satoru. There were nights you fell asleep wrapped in his arms, only to be left with cold sheets and him muttering into his phone down the hall at the crack of dawn, Ijichi beeping just outside already. 
Satoru always told you to be selfish, to put yourself first, to be bold with your desires. But you found it hard to voice when you were feeling —greedy about him. When you were feeling so possessive you wanted to drive over to headquarters when he was doing overtime, and fuck him right in his office so everybody would know that work wasn’t his only priority. 
He’d been gone a mere twelve days, and he went on these trips three times a year, max—granted. And Satoru normally had his best men on them but sometimes he had to go too.
You almost scalded your lap with tea when you heard steps clicking through the foyer. You held your breath waiting for a sunny and inevitable rendition of a ‘Honey, I’m home!’ 
Instead you heard the surely jet-lagged mumble of your husband instead. “I forgot about it because I was overseas Nanami! You know you ought to let loose if you really think I should’ve come straight to headquarters as soon as I landed!”
He was positively barking on the line when his suitcases reached a sudden halt and he saw a peek of you in the kitchen. You grinned, jumping to your feet to greet him though he only gestured to his phone with a tired smile. 
You blew him a kiss and his shoulders slackened, finally dropping his bags. “Yes, bu-I’m already home! I’m not heading through traffic just to-“
You reclined back on your stool, grinning at him when he pointed an imaginary gun to his head at Nanami’s audible ranting on the other line.
“Fine, I’ll be on the call in five!” He ripped off his jacket and headed down the foyer, “Morning babe!” he boomed, “Didn’t wake you, did I?” 
His voice echoed down the hall. When you reached him you stood at the foot of the stairs, your hands on your hips. You arched one brow before you spoke through gritted teeth, “No, you didn’t.” 
The deep split of your robe was exposing the planes of your smooth skin, teasing slithers of your breasts and your belly button. He wanted nothing more than to get on his knees and worship you as if it were a holy day. He wanted your thighs swung over his shoulders, and his mouth right between them. 
He mentally cursed at the thought, releasing a deep sigh into his palm. “You okay, sweetheart?”
He didn’t even have the time. 
“Fine, and you?”
He could hear in your voice you were on the edge of asking something, asking for more. After so many years of marriage he could smell when a bad mood was brewing from you, better yet taste it. 
He tried to fool you as if it were easy, that signature grin, a smooth click of those fingers. “Nothing! Just gotta sit in on this meeting, goddess.” He winked, “Let’s catch up in a bit.”
The entire interaction had left you dumbfounded, standing in the foyer and suddenly feeling lonelier than you did eating breakfast alone. Somehow.
“Gojo fucking Satoru,” you hissed to yourself. “Do not goddess me.” 
Had someone replaced your husband with a clone? Satoru could have flown halfway across the world and back, after not seeing you for more than a day was enough to make him needier than ever. He always came back, desperate and ready to devour you.
You were unsettled, but quickly renewed with courage when you approached his study half an hour later and heard him speaking. His voice was back to its usual, chirpy and light.
You wavered for several seconds, loosening your robe before you slipped inside.
He was gesturing wildly with his hands, relaying the success of his trip no doubt. But when he saw you his eyes narrowed and then darkened. 
You resisted a smirk when you heard Choso’s voice seconds later. “Why’d you turn your camera off?” 
Then Toji’s, husky and bored. “We don’t have to see his smug face, do we?” he spat. “Anyway, I’m fucking falling asleep here. It’s early. You gonna continue or what?”
Satoru hummed, his voice now entirely reserved for you as his eyes were all over those bare thighs of yours. You were sprawled out on his chaise lounge and scrolling through your phone.
He cleared his throat, “Bad signal, sorry about that.” 
His eyes didn’t leave you, not even once. You could feel his gaze all over your skin, as scorching as the sun as you stretched and yawned where you lay. Languid and feigning innocence as you arched your back slightly and felt your robe slip enough to expose your bare breasts.
You heard a sharp intake of breath and continued stretching this way and that. But after minutes of this torment and his various sighs to grab your attention you relented and turned a fraction.
Lust was pooling in those crystalline eyes, turning them dark. If they were usually like waves sparkling in the morning sun, they were now akin to a bottomless ocean with a crescent moon’s light. 
A breath passed and you rose to your feet, mischief tipping the corners of your lips up into something erotic and enchanting to your husband. He tilted his head, asking a silent question as he hummed in agreement to whatever the hell Nanami had just said.
You shifted onto your knees and crawled between his legs and he smirked as if the sight amused him. You rested your cheek on his thigh, like a needy cat waiting to be played with. How dare you act as if you were waiting in apprehension when those eyes of yours said anything but.
His eyes finally flickered with warning, but not the red-light kind of warning, the kind that oozed with a dominance so overpowering that you bowed your head and took to quietly unzipping his pants. 
His teeth clenched in anticipation before he jabbed at his keyboard to mute himself, and gave you his attention. “Bored, huh? I can give you something worthwhile to do, honey. Just wanted something to suck on? Yeah?” he cooed, his voice dripping so sweetly in condescension that it made your teeth hurt.
He chuckled when you nodded eagerly, running this thumb over your lower lip as he unbuckled his belt one-handed. “I know, baby. I know. Ready for me?”
You grinned, opening your mouth for him to push his thumb into it first. “Be good to me, yeah? I don’t wanna have to cut my meeting short because you think it’s funny to tease.”
He spoke to you as if he was saying something as mundane as remember to take an umbrella today. Rather than a man who was now loudly slapping the tip of his cock on the tongue of his needy wife during a conference call. 
His low groans reverberated through your core, every inch of your skin waiting to be touched by your lover. The sweet and salty taste of him kissed your tastebuds and came with a rueful delayed reaction. At first it helped soothe the aching arousal between your legs but then it made you even needier. 
“How’s that for my spoiled little sweetheart? Heh heh, like a needy little cat, aren’t ya? Licking up every last drop.”
“Not as needy as you,” you purred, pulling away just in time for his arousal to drip onto your lower lip. “Meow.”
His brows knitted together at the sight, his arousal was glistening and smeared all over your lips.
“No, no. Don’t,” he hissed, before his voice sweetened. “Swallow it for me, baby. I’ve gotta get back to work.”
He winked and put a finger to his lips before asking Geto to repeat whatever convoluted question that had been background noise just moments ago. 
You smiled in glee around his dick when his voice wobbled the further you took him down your throat, doing your best to remain quiet just under his desk. But as usual, it was Satoru who threatened to blow your cover—as usual. 
You swelled with pride when he threw his head back, Adam's apple bobbing frantically and his chest heaving back and forth. 
It was Nanami who noticed first, interrupting Geto’s presentation when he hears a shaky breath stuttering through the laptop at the end of the conference table. “Gojo? Are we boring you?”
“Ah, no!” He scrambled forward so quickly he swiped a pot of stationery clean off his desk. Not without bumbles of laughter from the meeting room of men.
 “Just…working out!” he managed through gritted teeth, one hand still cradling the back of your head and guiding your sweet and unforgiving mouth back and forth. 
Toji sighed, the oldest of the men and the least naive. “You choose to do that shit now?”
Choso yawned, glancing toward an agitated Nanami. “What shit are we discussing?”
Nanami sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “You’d know if you weren’t asleep, and Gojo save the workout for after the meeting, please. Let’s proceed.”
“Not my fault, I had to stay up and help Yuuji cram for an exam,” Choso mumbled. 
“Aww! Choso-nii!” Suguru laughed, “Satoru, are you hearing this?”
You were both momentarily so grateful for his team’s ability to bicker about anything down to the probability of rain that day, that you were bringing Satoru to heights of pleasure he’d not even dared anticipate. One he was laughably jet lagged and two he was in an incredibly important meeting but he couldn’t care less.
“Oh fuck, baby. Oh—juust like that!” he spluttered, unable to think about anything else other than the way you were flicking your tongue along his shaft. You sucked and rubbed your wet lips along that sensitive spot of his that made him whimper upon contact.
You fucking devil.
Suguru burst into laughter first, without Satoru’s arm the sounds of him slapping the table in his hysterics filled the room, then followed Sukuna’s laughter. “Is that pretty little wife of yours home by any chance?” he cackled, then Satoru was sure he heard Toji’s laughter but he was already too far gone. 
He hissed as he pulled you off his cock, coughing to smother the audible popping sound. His teeth sinking into his lower lip at the lewd sight of saliva drooling down onto your chest. “I hate you,” he hissed in a whisper. Before muting the call to allow you both to compose yourself, whilst Nanami scolded the team.
Then he was ready.
He cleared his throat before he spoke, “Sorry about that! My wife was giving me a quick massage before she headed out for work. You know how much sleeping on aeroplanes messes with my neck, right Nanami? Please, proceed.”
The sooner this ended the better. 
Sukuna snorted first, “Are you sure you weren’t fucking her?” 
“Would you refrain from referring to my wife like that, Sukuna? You are already on two strikes, aren’t you?” Satoru’s voice was so short and stern that even Nanami held his breath. 
“As I said, let’s continue.”
A chorus of “yes sir” had Satoru smirking down at you on the floor. His eyes locked on you as he made quick work of the mouse and pushed his keyboard aside, tapping the edge of your desk. 
You sprang to your feet to sit, the air thick with tension as he untied your robe to reveal the bare skin beneath it. “Oh baby, just look at you,” he purred, bringing his chair closer just to marvel at the sight before him.
His large hands gripped your breasts, sucking and licking until you relaxed and sank your hands into his hair, guiding him to where you needed him most. He was eager to please, his eyes not breaking from yours for even a second as he leaned forward and kissed your pussy, grinning when he found you slick and dripping for him.
He suckled on your clit until you mewled, his lips fitted to the bud as his tongue swirled and licked until you were gasping out his name. “Gojo? So, how did you find their sales department?” Nanami exhaled, “Gojo?”
He broke from you with an apologetic grin, assuming that sharp CEO voice as he flicked his mic back on. “Yeah, as I told Yaga when I was there the energy was not quite what I expected. It was interesting to see how their team implemented the techniques in which…”
But his words were lost on you, your teeth sunk into your lip as he flicked the tips of his fingers against your swollen clit. The movements were so deft and precise that they were turning your brain into mush, but they were also so tortuously light that you couldn’t handle it anymore. Heat rushed to your cheeks. Your eyes clamped shut.
Satoru removed his hand, tapping your thigh to grab your attention. He pointed to his cock with a smirk. “Ride me,” he mouthed. “Now.”
“Choso, how was your trip to Kyoto? Did you manage any meetings with the execs?” he continued, squeezing the backs of your thighs whilst you grabbed the base of him and hovered above his cock. 
“Well, I took my brother so I didn’t have a lot of time to….”
You shook your head, gulping when he flicked his finger across that mouse pad once more. 
“Ah? You gonna leave me hanging? That’s cruel, darling. More my style than yours. But as long as you keep quiet, we shouldn’t have a problem.” His voice was silky, and just ever so slightly mean, but it aroused you and he knew it. “Can’t have them hearing you like this, baby. Like you’re some kind of slut.” 
“Satoru, I won’t be able to be quiet, I can wait till after I-“
He tutted, sweeping his hands under your thighs as his gaze hardened. “You clearly can’t, so come on darling, sit on it for me, yeah? You know I hate these fucking meetings so help me get through it and fuck me.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, until you were letting him take full control of your mouth.
“I’m just so tired baby, need you to take care of me,” he moaned into your lips. “I know you can, baby. I know your pussy needs me inside, huh?” he cooed, rutting his cock against your slicked cunt.
“Yes,” you whimpered, pulling away to find his his cheeks dusted with pink and his eyes barely open,
“Yeah?” 
You nodded, slotting one arm around his neck whilst you guided him to your cunt and began to sink down on him. “Oh fuuck,” he cursed, his voice leaving him in short hot bursts of air against your neck. 
“That’s it baby, go on. You’re gonna have to move for me baby. Go slow for me. Fuck me, touch me.”
His eyes fluttered shut as he guided your hands under his shirt, feeling your touch like this was enough to make him come sometimes. “Baby, fuck me. Come on.”
“Can’t. I’ll be noisy,” you whined, only a few inches full but yet struggling to focus on whatever Choso was rambling about and then promptly being interrupted by Geto and then Sukuna. 
“You’ve gotta make this up to me baby, didn’t touch myself the entire time I was away. You’re gonna make me lose it. This is your fault.”
“M’ sorry! I thought you wanted it. You were hard already!” 
“I always want you, baby. I always want it. Let me show you.” 
He lifted his hips and filled you in one fluid moment, both of your voices embracing in one sweet and lengthy moan. Before he was moaning with every thrust, “Cause you were prancing around my office looking too pretty like that baby, I’m about to show you just how much.” 
Your pussy clutched him so tight at the praise he groaned and found his lips landing on your own with a magnetic, desperate pull from within his heart. How lucky he was to come back home to you.
“Good girl, you knew exactly what I wanted, knew I wanted to come home and fuck you just like this.”
He watched your pussy drool down his cock as you moved up and down on it, tentative and hungry for him. Your pupils were blown wide, like you were drunk on him, like you had been waiting for the moment you could be like this with him.
It made his cock twitch, the sensation making you quiver and smother your noises into your palm. You stopped, his full length sheathed inside of you, the relief and pleasure that contorted your features was truly beautiful, the sight he’d been waiting for. You tried desperately to catch your breath, “Need a second.”
He brought you closer, wrapping an arm around your back as he whispered. “Huh? You needy little thing, I thought you couldn’t—fuckin’—wait.” Each word was separated by a breath as your cunt fluttered from his low, and reprimanding tone. “No way. No.”
He felt so good. He was filling you so well.
He flicked himself of mute to hum along to Toji’s thoughts of Choso’s pitch. But his breaths were growing more and more laboured. You turned to see Nanami’s face growing pink. “You falling asleep there or pumping one out before you crash man?” Sukuna asked.
“Sorry! I just—” His chest heaved, and he closed his eyes to take a breath just as your pussy was teasing his tip, so close but not close enough. You grinned as you took revenge and slammed down on him all at once, “Oh fuck!” he groaned.
“Sleeping on that plane really got my neck, just had to crack it.”
Toji leaned to look into the camera a huge smirk on his face, “Is your fucking wife with you?”
“What, of course not,” he answered, his pants surely audible the other end. “In the gym actually.”
“Are you serious?”
“Carry on with the meeting I don’t have all day.” That was his no bullshit tone. The sound of it making you throb so wildly he was all smug, a little ‘hmph’ leaving his lips as he muted the call once more.
Nanami stiffened, “Yes sir, Ijichi proceed.”
“You’re gonna pay for that, darling,” he breathed, locking your hips in place so he could pound up into you with ruthless precision. You were a whimpering mess, arms around his neck squeezing impossibly tight as you had no other choice but to take all he was offering.
“Toru, Toru! Toru!” Your voice climbed higher with every thrust, the lewd sounds of your moans only amplified by the high walls of his slick, black study. 
“Please, m’ sorry. Gonna come, gonna make a mess,” you cried.
“Oh yeah? I know you will.” His thumb started on your clit, rubbing tight little circles that had your lower half jolting and squirming, as his cock hit that spot like a hammer to a nail. All too perfect, all too precise, like everything your husband did.
Closer and closer, until you were pulling on his hair, body coated so much in sweat your hands resigned to clawing down his nape instead. 
“Please!”
“No baby, make a fucking mess. How could I ever say no to my wife? They all know it, you know it.”
“Important meeting…Nanami’ll get mad at me! He’ll know!”
“Fuck Nanami, fuck work, fuck everyone. Focus on me. Go on, oh? Too much?” He laughed, kissing down your throat. “You can cry baby, fuck yourself on my cock like there’s no fucking tomorrow,” he growled.
“Use me, use me, use me.”
You finally bursted but Satoru was still moving his hips like the sadist he truly was. “Feels too good doesn’t it baby, doesn’t it?” 
He laughed at the fluids covering your thighs and soiling his pants. “Fuuck, baby you’re so hot.”
Kissing your temple fondly, you both startled as you came back to reality. “Gojo!”
His fingers made quick work of his mouse. “Sorry! Sorry! I had to take an important call.”
“But um, listen I’m gonna have to go.” 
Luckily for him you’d slowed down so he could finally get his breaths even, chuckling and trying to sound as blasé as he could muster. “I’ve really gotta go! Nanami, update me, yeah!”
He ended the call before they could even complain.
You stood, legs shaking as you leant over to grab your robe. But Satoru was already gripping your ass from behind, “Where do you think you’re going? Shall I put another baby in ya this morning? You’re in heat after all. Clearly three aren’t enough, huh?”
He mounted you over his desk, his chest flat against your back as he filled you up all at once. “Why you so wet for, huh?” he groaned, already hitting that spot inside you that had you whining. “Because you’re a needy little slut who sucked me off—whilst I was busy working—or from squirting all over me and the desk? Come on baby! Tell me?”
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©mrsackermannx: do not repost, plagiarise, translate or modify my works.
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hwaightme · 9 months
Text
Cat named Mars (catboy!hwa hcs)
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(masterlist) (perma-taglist)
😻 pairing: catboy!seonghwa x gn!reader 😻 genre: headcanons, fluff, crack, demon? to cat? to roommate? to lover? 😻 summary: the longest bulletpoints about what it would be like to have catboy!hwa as your bf - the whole story 😻 wordcount: 4.5k 😻 warnings/tags: editing? who is she, unhinged crack part nyah, catboy!hwa, cute catboy!hwa, soft and polite catboy!hwa- okay i will stop |, language, food/eating, mention of others not treating animals well, sweater paws, mention of adorable nerdy hobbies, domestic, cuddle, a surprise about how hwa ended up being a cat in the first place, both past and present tense used, mainly lowercase 😻 taglist: at the bottom of the fic~ 😻 a/n: let me drift in the soft and fluffy catboy!hwa lands until waterbomb strikes, for my own healing; my braincells are out of service but i hope you enjoy <3 all reblogs, thoughts and notes appreciated! big hugs!
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once upon a time he was a cat
there was never a moment to think about anything except work, and maybe about groceries and bills (but even those things normally hit you at two o'clock in the morning, leading you to check your phone and make make amendments to your schedule in a panicked state). there was never any room for a cat. until there was.
of course there just had to be an adorable kitty, at most maybe a couple of years old, lean and with jet black fur that was surprisingly shiny for an abandoned cat, sitting square in the middle of a cardboard box on the side of the street that formed a part of your regular path and commute to and from work. in the morning, you had locked eyes with the cat, heart bleeding and hurting for the poor creature but secretly hoping that someone else would take it - you couldn't take care of it, could you? in the evening, you were huffing and puffing with the cardboard box in your hands and the cat happily meowing, its tail stretched out upwards into a chimney pipe, slightly tilted to the side at the very end. you read somewhere that it meant the cat was happy, so you were going to take that as a good sign.
sat on the floor at the entrance to your apartment, you eyed the beautiful creature as it kept on purring and trying to hop out of the box and towards you, while you were insistent on keeping it in, lifting a cardboard flap repeatedly in an effort to prevent it from jumping. so. now you had a cat. there was nothing in the box, and on the outside, in horrific scrawl was a message suggesting whoever took the kitty either "kept him, or throw him away, whatever". non-humans. "that's who your previous owners were, right kitty?" you mumbled to no one in particular, but it seemed that the cat picked up on your speech and inched closer to you, ears moving like disks to pick up signals. "so you are a he, yeah?" a meow. so you were right. at least the beasts from this cat's past got one thing right. "do you have a name? actually… you know what do you want a… new name?" you were fast on the attachment scale, you realised. it had been barely a few minutes and you were already trying to name the cat who you had not even checked for diseases, nor had any basic facilities to take care of him. but he was more than excited by the prospect, and mewled in what sounded like gratitude. you began to list off names, eventually boring the kitty, and he started to falter in his enthusiasm. all until one name rang a bell.
"Mars?"
and that was how you ended up with a black cat named Mars.
by the power of actually having to shake paws with a cat, and you promising to get him quality snacks, you managed to get Mars checked at the vet who confirmed everything was fine, and was equally as amazed as you that he was so well groomed and neat. while you knew you did not have much of a right to do this, your inner pride still swelled and, to yourself, you said that 'yes, my Mars is really neat and handsome'.
you took to addressing Mars as 'your handsome boy' and that seemed to wake him up and get him speeding towards you faster than anything else could. also 'the prettiest star' and 'my universe' and 'marvellous Mars' all worked wonders.
at the same time, he was shy, as if he did not want to disturb you with his antics. always tip-toeing around you as silently as a cat could (which was very silent, to the point where he jumpscared you a couple of times but that is okay because excuse me did you see his precious face????) and never taking up much space, even though… hello? Mars? you are a cat?? he would rarely ever hop on any surfaces unless you explicitly told him to do so - this had left you convinced that your cat was well-versed in human-speak. he never meowed for food until you had told him to vocalise and tell you if he was very hungry, and gave him a rundown of his eating schedule and how it was important that he drank water. he was the politest cat you had ever met, while at the same time his timidness made you wonder if you were in any way intimidating. not once did Mars ever enter your bedroom, even though you left the door wide open for him, preferring to crash on the couch or on the floor of some other room. the first couple of times you joked about it saying "are you scared you'll see something, Marsy?" but when your cat actually looked away and hunched over, you were convinced that you hit the nail on the head, and that you were probably either hallucinating or were slowly turning into Doctor Dolittle.
but you were persistent. and insistent. and you took the little blanket with kuromi decor on it from him (yes this was that extreme of a situation) and put it at the edge of your bed. climbing in and covering yourself in the many layers, you looked at the terrified figure hovering at the entrance to the room, boba eyes as wide as saucers. he kept on looking at the blanket, then at you, then again at the blanket, then again at you, probably wondering if he could snatch the thing and make a run for it. you were on the verge of giving up at this point. sleepy, with work tomorrow, you were not about to engage in a whole war with your cat.
"you know what, if you want to stay, you can stay. i promise i will not hurt you, nor will i push you out. if you want to come closer, do. if you just want to take the blanket and leave, you can do that. your choice. i won't be hurt. i promise. you are already super brave and i love you either way. okay, Mars?" he did not respond, frozen in place. "my handsome boy?" his head twisted towards you. "precious?" a blink. another blink. one paw in front of the other. "are you actua- wow! I am so proud of you my baby! my brave boy!" you were cooing praises at him like there was nothing else in the world that existed as soon as he hopped onto the bed, foregoing the blanket and making a beeline towards your face, as though that was his read source of comfort. he was afraid to look away, focusing on your every expression as you patted his head and let him nuzzle into you. "you are so so brave, you know that? i know this is hard, so if at any point you want to leave, you can, okay?" purring louder than a powerdrill was the response you received. along with kitty cuddles through the whole night. because apparently, your cat was a koala all along.
and even in his cuddles he was gentle. you did not think you had ever seen him use his claws… ever. except maybe on a few toys but as soon as you were in sight poof gone, soft Mars activated. he was like your personal heater, careful to wrap himself closer to you not to push you out, but to instead complete whatever curled up position you were lying in. if you were stretched out to the side, he would find a place. if you were in a ball? he would find a place again. if you were lying down straight for whatever reason? give him a couple of nights to get comfortable, and now you had the ultimate cat comforter either on you, or around your head. and yes, you were blessed with a cat who barely shed, somehow. some of your friends who had cats almost cursed you when they found out, but you only smiled, looking at your lockscreen. nowadays, even during the workday you were thinking of Mars at least a little bit.
maybe you were spoiling him a little bit, but it was too adorable to see him watching you play legend of zelda or animal crossing on your nintendo switch. and when he saw that you got a gift from a friend in the form of a lego set? well. you were literally afraid to open the box because of how hyper your cat got - perhaps not today…
you fell into the most pleasant routines with Mars, from waking up and going to bed together, to eating breakfast and then 'parting ways' for you to attend to human business and him to his 'cat business'. it was cute. it made your head sing. you were happier than you had ever been. all thanks to that one random day. one random box. and one black haired kitty who radiated sunshine.
it was the eve of the one year anniversary of you being the proud owner of, or how you preferred to say it, the best friend of 'L/n Mars', and you were as sure as his ears were pointy in wanting to go all out with your celebration - minus the guests (because the last time you had invited a male friend of yours over your cat turned into a whole other creature and then sulked for at least three days until you took a day off work and called it 'Mars day', but you just assumed it was some territorial thing). you had set up little themed decorations, found a cute little headband with the number '1' that is suitable and safe for a cat and would not hurt his head, got a matching, human-sized one for yourself, made a whole dinner for your favourite kitty from scratch - the ingredients all checked with the vet who you now casually called by first name because you did not dare ever give Mars anything that might harm him and would rather panic call the doctor.
you were sat at the coffee table, so that it would be easier for Mars to reach the food (you set pillows on the floor for extra comfort, for which he thanked you with a loud meow), and had your respective mini-cakes set out in front of either of you. you had given up on making him ever eat kitty food - another peculiar quirk of your cat, so the 'cake', which was more a protein gift than anything, was fully home made. but Mars was happy. more than happy. if cats could smile, that was exactly what he was doing, right at you, squinting his eyes, threatening to hop over the table. you told him to wait, and quietly whispered your gratitude to him. much to your delight, he waited and listened, clinging onto every word.
"you know, i really think you are an angel. before you i was quite… how do i say this… life was just passing by. and now i look forward to it. and to be able to see you every day, to have fun days with you, to talk with you… all of that brings me so much joy and i hope that i can make you at least a little bit happy too. i wish you could tell me what you want, of course, but i really do think you know what i am thinking, what i am saying. and i hope that i am right in saying that i can understand you a bit too. you really are the smartest, most precious Mars. light of my life. i love you so much, my gorgeous, and here is to many years more, cheers~" you clinked your glass with orange juice with his water bowl, and giggled when he took a couple of neat laps to match with your gulps, only to lick his lips and hop off the pillows and go under the table.
in a matter of seconds, he reappeared at your side of the table, and poked at your lap with his paw, looking up at you with his bead-like eyes that seemed to contain the whole universe in them. you pat him between his ears, scratched under his chin, delighting him, and then stretched out your legs, gesturing towards your legs to signify that lap-napping season was open. Mars did not need to be told twice, and soon enough you had a black cat curled up on your lap, purring away, mewling a couple of times when you started eating to remind you that he was hungry too.
"so you want me to feed you now, too? aren't you cheeky-"
as if you could refuse him. you would be lying if you said you could. so there you were, on the floor and feeding Mars, quiet music playing from your phone, not quite sure if you could be any happier.
"i love you."
quite the contrast to what happened the next morning.
suddenly he is a catboy
when you wake up, Mars is nowhere in sight, and even when you call him, to which he would reply with at least a meow, you are only met with silence. you are alarmed, but wait in bed for just a little longer to see if Mars would come to you. nothing. you call again, 'pspspsps' him, all to no avail. only the breeze and the birds outside, along with inexplicable rustling from another room in your apartment. you raise an eyebrow and prop yourself up on your elbows. more rustling. a door opening, which sounds like the closet where you kept your warmer clothes. what is going on? another door closing. footsteps? you are on high alert. grabbing your phone and the light saber model which you had made a while back and kept safe by your bed, as it turned out exactly for this kind of moment, you head out to face whatever, or whoever is the source of the sound.
you are stealth itself, rounding the corner with weapon in hand, ready to face the attacker - or so you thought. until you come face to face with the tall, young man dressed head to toe in your clothing, namely a tracksuit that you had accidentally gotten in the wrong size and then somehow ended up being refunded for without returning the item, and a beanie that he had pulled over his head. spikes of jet black hair are poking from under the hat in all directions, and his deep brown eyes are widened in shock as he freezes on the spot and stares back at you.
"so, what the hell are you doing in my clothes?"
"y/n- i-"
"HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?"
"i can explain-"
"nope do NOT get closer what-"
"Mars…. i…. it's me… your uh… cat."
"what?"
he looks embarrassed beyond belief, and crumbles to the floor, sliding until his back is against the wardrobe. wrapping his arms around his knees, he is scared to look up at you, worried that you would never recognise him, never accept him. this is exactly what he has been dreading all this time, and was heartbroken when the curse was finally broken, despite him technically being free now. he does not want to be away from you. this is his home. you are his home. you are the one who showed him true love.
"if it is okay… may i take this beanie off for a second?"
"i didn't even let you put it on in the first place," he winces. you feel a little bad, but hold your ground. his eyes sparkle in a way that is a little too familiar, reminding you of a certain someone. the cat who he mentioned. your precious cat. Mars.
"okay… here goes…" he slides the material off, making you gasp. hidden under the beanie is a pair of cat ears, fluffy, the same colour as his hair, and twitching as he adjusts after having flattened them to minimise their visibility.
"yo what."
"i have… a tail too."
"WHAT?"
he is not joking. a black tail to go with the black ears, sliding out from under the oversized hoodie. you are not sure what happened next, but you wake up on the sofa with the man, who you are now guessing is some human cat hybrid version of Mars fanning you with a magazine.
"I AM SORRY, Y/N PLEASE WAKE UP I AM SO- oh you are awake thank goodness i missed you i am really so sorry…" he drops the magazine almost instantly, leaning towards you and wrapping you in a warm embrace, much to your surprise. you yelp, but the softness, as well as his ears moving in the cutest way while he hugs you make you accept the gesture, and return it.
you never thought you would hear a grown man purr exactly like a cat, but here you are. well, you never thought you would have a catboy in your apartment either, but this is already happening so...
"so, Mars?"
"yeah?"
"you have some explaining to do."
after what turned out to be at least two hours of you and him going back and forth about what had unfolded and what was the history of the young catboy's state, you find out that, in reality, his name is Park Seonghwa, and that he is a demon, of all things. that is right, a demon. set out to curse and haunt and spread sin. but no, he is cast out of hell because he is too kind and soft. and so he had been cursed to be a cat, until for a full year, someone could give him their whole heart, their full love. while he explains this to you with a fondness unlike anything you had ever seen before in your life (except in what you perceived from cat Mars's eyes), you begin to blush, realising that all this time, you were talking to and confessing to him. Seonghwa. this handsome man who was always by your side and-
oh. and he was sleeping in the same bed as you. just great. you flush an even deeper shade and cover your face. and he had been jealous, not territorial, when your friend had come over.
"are you okay?"
"so okay."
"hug?"
"i, uh-"
"you give really good hugs."
"Park Seonghwa do you really want to make me suffer?"
"I AM SO SORRY ARE YOU HURT? DID I SAY SOMETHING WRONG I AM SO SORRY?!"
"no you are too cute. come here"
catboy!hwa headcanons
is initially cautious because well… you got used to him being a cat and now suddenly you have a whole man with cat ears and a tail walking around your house. he catches on to the fact that you are kind of shy around him too, but he does not push it, at least not straight away.
because that would mean that he has to get over his own shyness towards you extra quickly, and that proves to be difficult when it hits him that, well, he is now a person too, and you are a person, and he fell in love with you, and you told him you loved him before - on occasion he just walks around blushing with his ears pressed flat to his head but don't point it out he is already struggling ;~;
you might have to be the one to initiate the contact again because he is literally too scared to overstep anything and everything - even when you bought him his own first few sets of clothes as a 'human edition anniversary gift'. you approach him to give him a hug and he groups up as if he is about to dive into a pool, hands to his chest, eyes wide. but is he moving anywhere? no. does his purring give him away? yes. after that the two of you gently reintroduce physical touch and it makes you realise just how much you miss Mars, particularly because Seonghwa is still a little distant for understandable reasons. But you both are trying your best.
if you massage his head and scratch behind his hears he will melt - his favourite thing in the world is having his head rest on your lap with his eyes closed while you ruffle his hair really slowly and run your fingers through it.
desperately misses the times when you would call him handsome and pretty and smart, and every single affectionate word in the universe so he tries his damn hardest to get you to do that again, first by trying to be nice and helping you around the house, and when the results are not to his satisfaction and when cuddle sessions are pretty much the norm, but words of affection aren't… he pouts and openly asks you why you don't call him that anymore. you squeak the words out but the reaction makes every next attempt easier than anything.
he is scared to approach your room again, though, and this time you say nothing because well, this is a whole other territory. a couple of months pass before you consider and that is because you find him sleeping on the floor a couple of times, curled up with is tail covering his face a little, and he said it was because "he is scared otherwise and here is safe". so you take out a futon for now, but he is more than happy with this progress.
he learns how to cook both from you and from tutorials online, and then starts remembering what he used to cook a long time before - you basically stop cooking altogether because now he is insistent on waking you up with breakfast, packing you lunch and greeting you with dinner. he sometimes gets a bit too experimental, but you do not mind it too much because at least he cleans everything up.
you think you can ignore the lego in the corner of your living room? no :) it is a date now. a lego building date. for four hours straight. on the floor. him running this ship like you run your team at work. and his focus, his professional approach to the matter is a little too attractive, you admit to yourself. and somewhere along the way that translates into you planting a kiss on Hwa's cheek. this is the only time over the whole four hours that he drops the pieces he is holding in his hands, gazing at you, not quite sure if what he felt just now was real or not.
but nope, judging by your attempts to avoid his gaze this was very real. so he gets real bold real quick and guess who finds themselves trapped by two tones arms on either side of you, back on the floor, a curious and mischievous face a mere inch away? that's right, you. wants to build a starship, accidentally builds a relationship along with it - a major win.
there isn't ever a platonic stage really. an extensive awkward stage? sure. a roommates-maybe stage? sure. two people who like each other? sure. and now, after many months of you settling into a new routine, two people who love each other and keep telling each other that.
he finds a job that he can do remotely, and in this way remains mainly at home and around the neighbourhood with his beloved hobbies and balancing you out. in this way he now starts to sneak support to pay bills and to buy you little gifts (as a little apology for taking your clothes sometimes - read often)
it is not Hwa's fault that he misses you very quickly. it just happens. then one thing leads to another and he is lying on your shared bed hugging a hoodie of yours. eventually that leads to him dragging a couple more items out of your wardrobe and making a little nest out of them - only then does his worry go down and he goes for a nap while curled up in a ball.
when he knows that you should be arriving soon he starts walking up to the window, then away then back to the window, and away again. cycle repeats itself until he can spot you from a distance, and then he just stays by the window.
he helps you redecorate and rearrange your apartment, considering that you now have a 5'10'' human cat instead of one you can hold with two hands, and shocks you with just how many details he remembers about you, down to allergies, what colours irritate you when it comes to interiors, what plants you had to give away to keep him 'in cat form' safe - even though yes, he would not eat them, but how were you to know that?
he remembers all your special days, and hopes you remember his, too. thankfully, he knows his own birthday and using cat mathematics, converted from demon to cat to human. and so, now you can celebrate him wholeheartedly, only this time that also involves you taking him to go have a picnic under the cherry blossoms.
you and Seonghwa go to pick out and buy him a phone together, and you spend a whole day teaching him how to use it. soon enough your own phone goes off with notifications from him. he sends you fun things throughout the day and if he is busy, he sends you a selfie or a heartfelt message.
likes to curl up and read poetry with you. doesn't matter if out loud of in silence. what matters to him is that you are close. and good luck trying to get away - he has a tail and it is wrapped around your leg like an alert system so that he can tackle you right back to the couch or the bed. because it is you and Seonghwa time.
occasionally sings you lullabies that he either overheard somewhere or remembers, breaking into a smile when you wriggle closer to him and fall asleep, stress melting away from your every feature.
overall you are now living with a catboy Hwa cast out of hell for being too nice, who also turned out to be a big nerd, with heart eyes for you, sweater paws instead of actual paws, the occasional feline habits still coming through (like him rubbing his face against your shoulder, or your own face, or him hissing when frustrated or threatened, or him having the widest stretch in the morning, or… actually he is still part cat so, you have to deal with it), and all the love to give. thankfully not in the form of something he hunted. he buys birds at a store now. meant to be cooked. human-friendly.
he brings you a limited edition starship instead. if you display it he will look at you like he is falling in love with you all over again - if that is even possible because that would mean stopping loving you now, and that is the one thing he cannot do <3
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thesunisatangerine · 3 months
Text
playing for keeps – preview
alexia putellas x childhoodfriend!barçaplayer!reader
warning: light angst
status: work in progress
(a/n in the tags) [parts: preview]
The car ride was deafening in its silence.
In Alexia’s defense, she’d done everything she could to fill it: she’d tried asking you about your flight and when that didn’t work, she started talking football. She asked you about your last season, about how you won your league and wondered about how that must’ve felt; inquired about your negotiations with the club and how you felt about returning back to Barça–solicited for the reason that made you inclined to come back. Heck, she even tried to get you talking by mentioning things you used to do or like–things she didn’t know you didn’t do nor like now. 
For every question, you’d given her the same kind of nothing. A yes, a no, or a hum. There was a weight in your chest that exhausted you past the point of exchanging pleasantries and niceness, a seemingly impossible task for the tiredness in your bones, your soul. So you excused yourself, told her it was the jet lag, and you saw the way the light in her eyes dimmed with disappointment, training them on the road with deliberate focus, her lips tightening to a line of silence.
You still knew the language of her face and body–how could you not when they’d carve themselves into the tissues of your mind?–to perceive that she wasn’t entirely convinced with what you just said because maybe, just maybe, you were to her as she was to you: familiar. The thought provided little comfort, made your chest heavier with guilt even, another stone dropped into the pitcher. 
The feeling gave way to another thought, unpleasant in the way it told you what you already knew, ‘Way to treat the person who took time out of their precious night to drive you to your apartment when she could be using that time to rest for tomorrow’s practice. How nice.’
And then, another.
‘Just like how you treated Olivia, right?’
The reminder made you close your eyes from the sting that followed, a stitch torn from its place in a wound newly closed, and you tried to prevent the tears’ impending arrival but the darkness that followed served to rub salt to the cut as it made the fleeting images clearer, the words ever louder.
“I’m so stupid! So stupid…” 
“Go. Please, just go. You won’t find happiness here.”
A touch on your arm startled you back to the present, the jostle from the gasp you let out just enough to make a tear fall, and you found Alexia with her eyes on you, concern and a question reflected in their light.
The car had stopped, parked outside of your apartment complex. 
“What’s wrong?” Soft was the way she spoke the words but the look she laid upon you was even more gentle. Your heart lurched–away or towards her, you weren’t sure–and you ached, and for what exactly, you didn’t know but the question made you reminisce about the old times, back to when you used to tell each other everything.
But how could you tell her about this? About what led to this? When the fire from that night remained in your chest, glowing and waiting patiently as an ember in the night, waiting for the wind to call her name–to set her aflame again?
You casted your eyes aside and turned your head away so you could wipe the tear that fell, before you met her eyes again. You said with a small smile, apologetic. 
“Nothing. I’m just–I’m sorry for being a bitch.”
Alexia regarded you for another moment, eyes tracing some invisible path along your face, long enough that you considered she’d ask you more about why you cried just then. Instead, she said with a half-smile, teasing, “Don’t worry about it. What else is new?” 
Your shoulders eased down a bit.
“Still a smart-mouth, I see. Indeed, what else is new?”
At your response, the both of you chuckled but the pressing silence returned. 
“How long has it been since we’ve played together?” 
Alexia whispered with a wistful tone, brows knitting together at her question as she leaned back against her seat, putting her arms behind her head which pulled the sleeves of her shirt to reveal the tattoo under her arm.
You turned your gaze away, to the unlit window of your apartment.
“Too long.”
“Two years too long.” Alexia corrected you and then she shook her head, “I know you already explained it but I still don’t understand why you went to the States out of all places. Out of all your options, you had to choose the furthest one.”
You shrugged, hunching forward so you could rest your elbows on your knees, fingers clasping together as you twiddled your thumbs.
“You knew I’ve always wanted to see what the league is like there.”
“Right,” Alexia drawled in a tone that told you she was, in fact, aware that she didn’t know–that what you said was a load of bullshit. “So, what’s the verdict?”
‘It wasn’t like home.’
“I can hear your judgment all over your tone.” You replied drily then added, “It was great, thank you very much.”
Alexia laughed and strands of her hair fell to her face which she brushed back with a finger before she sank further into her seat.
“Well, you should tell me more about how you enjoyed yourself, then. Surely, you must have a lot of stories to tell.” You heard the unspoken words, ‘Stories you never bothered to tell me through the phone or during the instances we’d met during the time you were away.’
Still you answered her in your mind, ‘I would’ve enjoyed it better if you were there.’
“Where do you want me to begin?” If Alexia heard the weary sigh in your tone, she made no indication she did. 
“I don’t know. Where do you want to start?”
‘I went away because of you.’
“At this point, we’ll be here all night.” You laughed.
Alexia laughed along. “Just tell me anything then.”
‘Distance didn’t work. You still have my heart.’
You hummed, thinking of a story, easing back in your seat finally and then you began. 
“Well…”
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mignonricciardo · 9 months
Text
holidaze | mv33
i am being delusional and manifesting an alternate world where max is not with kelly... ANYWHO please enjoy holiday max bc carefree maxie is my favorite and this is an entirely self-indulgent fic to play on that
summary: after one night in the club, max has some ideas on the yacht. family vacation? that won't stop him. (4.3k words) warnings: p in v, straight smut, unprotected sex, some plot, mention of max as brother's best friend, cursing, hook position and potential mating press (oops)
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With waves of the Adriatic Sea lapping against the yacht, I’ve never been more grateful for my parents’ friendships to influence my own growing up. As a kid, my mum would take my brother and I to races where my dad worked and Max’s dad raced. Max and my brother raced karts together, traveling constantly back and forth between Belgium and the Netherlands, and I tagged along as much as I could with Victoria. The family had long been close friends with our mothers being best friends, and even as life threw constant change at us, we always managed to stay close. Even now, after 25 years, I lay sprawled out on the plush benches on the bow of Max’s yacht soaking up the Croatian sun. Max’s yacht has always been one of my favorite places, and invites to the floating dollar sign picked up after his most recent break up. 
Beyond the confines of the yacht, Max and my brother Dion zip around on jet skis. I can hear their laughing and hollering as they send water flying at each other as they race. Despite Max’s successful racing career and Dion’s pivot into finance, they were still competitive over who was quicker at everything. Hanna, Dion’s fiance and my soon-to-be-sister-in-law, sighs as the pair of boys are particularly loud as they zip by. 
“You’ve got to learn to tune them out,” Victoria, Max’s sister, grins from her spot on the bow. “It becomes a lot easier once you do.”
“You've both got it figured out,” she says, sitting up from her spot tanning. 
I turn to her, lowering my sunglasses just enough, “We have years of practice. You’ll get there.”
“I’ll need to,” she smirks, wiggling her brows. “At this rate, it looks like Max will be around even more.”
I groan loudly, throwing an arm over my face so Victoria can’t see the blush lighting up my cheeks. Hanna laughs as Victoria looks at both of us with a confused expression.
“Alright, what the hell did I miss?” 
She’s fully seated now, and any intentions of her dropping the conversation are gone along with my hopes of continuing my tan in peace. I drop my arm away from my face, craning my neck to look at her before Hanna can get any of her conspiracies out.
“As you know, we went to some clubs the other night. Hanna here thinks Max and I were a little close for being family friends, but we were both drunk. That was literally it.”
Hanna gasps, flying up from her seat, “It was more than that! Victoria, you should have seen it. Max could not stop staring at her ass, and she was totally checking him out all night. Her arm was looped through his anytime we walked to another club, and he was constantly helping her up from seats with hands on the waist. Dion and I felt like we were interrupting something, and we’re the engaged ones.”
“Finally!” Victoria cheers, causing my jaw to drop and Hanna to bust into laughter. “You’ve only been thirsting after him for years. It’s foul because that’s my brother, but you can finally act out whatever perverted fantasies you’ve had since we were teenagers.”
“Why am I just finding this out?” Hanna calls.
“Oh, there are years of history here. Just wait until I-”
“Hi! It’s my life, so can we please stop here?!” I snap at the two women who just snicker at me. 
Victoria lets a moment of silence pass before turning to me, “Can I at least find out what I missed the other night?”
I pinch my brows but eventually nod, giving Hanna the go ahead to tell the entire story to Victoria. She starts with her typical theatrics, using her hands and animated expressions as she talks about the club. 
“... Next thing you know, Dion and I are looking for them to let them know we’re good to go whenever they want to leave, and we can’t find them anywhere. After making our way around the bar, Dion sees them and nearly keels over. They’re on the dance floor, and she’s fully shaking ass on a more than happy Max.”
“Hanna, gross, that’s my brother,” Victoria cringes at the image Hanna is painting. 
She continues nonetheless, “I mean, it was filthy. Dion’s head nearly explodes, but I stop him from storming over there with the reminder that they’re both adults and both so drunk they had no clue what they were doing. To avoid an incident, I go over to tell them we’re ready to go while Dion tries to look anywhere else. Thankfully, the two of them lose some of the haze and sober up and follow us out. No one said a word in the cab back to the villa.”
My cheeks are bright red at the hazy memory, remembering how I melted into his touch and the weight of his hands on my hips. The feeling of my ass pressed against him still crept up when I least expected it in the days since the incident, so I’ve been doing my best to avoid Max. Victoria looks at me, jaw agape and eyes knowing.
“It didn’t stop there, did it?” she says, and Hanna turns to me with eyes wide. 
“What?!”
I pinch my brows, muttering quietly and avoiding the gazes of both women, “Yes and no. He came to my room at the villa while you and Dion were in the shower. I was drunk, so nothing happened, but he stayed the night.”
The two women have abandoned any sense of our previous sunbathing, with sunglasses discarded and sitting at full attention now as I reveal the end of the night. The two chatter to one another, gossiping about Max and I right in front of me. Once they;ve said anything there is to say, they turn back to me with expectant ears.
“Promise me you won’t say anything and you’ll drop it?” I ask with a defeated sigh. 
“Fine,” Hanna says, settling back into the lounger.
Victoria echoes her sentiment, “Since it’s my brother, I’m disgusted, but I do approve, babe. You’re good for each other, even if it's just sex.”
My cheeks burn from more than the sun, no matter how much time has passed since the conversation with the girls ended. Rehashing the incident causes all of the fragmented memories to resurface, and I can’t shake the memory of his hands on my waist or the unshared detail of his lips on my neck. The sun feels a few degrees too hot, and my skin is itching with heat. I try to ignore it and mimic the zen of Hanna and Victoria, but I cave and secure the bikini straps over my shoulders before diving into the blue water. It’s refreshing — the cool waves lapping against my skin and evaporating the prickling heat. When I resurface, pushing wet hair back over my shoulders, I bob in the wake of Max who zips by on a jet ski. He kills the engine, grinning at me as he quirks his eyebrows.
“Want some company?”
I try desperately not to stare, a weak attempt at ignoring the water dripping down his neck from his hair or hands wrapped tightly around the handles of the jet ski. His biceps flex ever so subtly as he leans forward on the handle bars, and he smiles softly as he catches me staring. I run my hands over my hair, pushing the soaking strands back from my face. I grin as he watches my movements, eyes dipping to the water hitting right at my shoulders. 
“Are you trying to get us in more trouble?”
He laughs, eyes squinting, “I’m just trying to swim with one of my lifelong friends. Or take her for a ride on the jet ski.”
I stare at him for a moment, running my hands over my hair to push the wet strands back from my face. All it takes from Max is a quirk of his eyebrow and hint of a grin, and I give in to his request. 
“Got a life vest for me?” I ask, taking his outstretched hand as I hoist myself on to the lip of the jet ski.
I can feel Max’s eyes on my ass as I haul my legs up onto the lip, hand gripping his knee as I rise precariously. The jet ski bobs in the water at the unbalanced movement, and Max’s hands steady my waist as I pitch forward. I dangle over the blue sea briefly, acutely aware of his hands on me keeping me from tumbling over. When it feels steady enough, I throw a leg over the seat, sliding in toward Max. 
He looks over his shoulder at me, “You’ve got to hang on, liefje. I don’t bite.”
I roll my eyes, sliding my arms around his waist as the velcro of the life vest presses into my forearms, “Do you want Dion to kill us?”
“He’d have my head if I let you fly off the jet ski, so we’re in trouble either way, aren’t we?”
“Hanna told Victoria about the club,” I admit to him, unable to keep from telling him as he slowly steers us toward the yacht. “I told them you stayed the night, but that nothing happened.”
“But that’s not entirely true, is it?” he says, and I just stare at the back of his head as he comes to a stall near the yacht. 
He grabs my hand again, steadying me as I step onto the yacht to grab a life vest of my own. He watches me secure it across my chest, and I catch his eyes firmly planted on my chest being squeezed by the neoprene. I roll my eyes at him, muttering how he’s lucky Dion can’t see us, and he grins as he helps me back onto the jet ski. My arms wrap around his waist again, fingers brushing the exposed skin of his stomach, and he inhales sharply at the contact. 
“You alright there?” I grin, my index finger doing another pass over his skin. 
He breathes in again, “Hold on, liefje. I’d hate to have to dive in after you.”
“In your dreams,” I start, turning into squealing laughter as Max sends us flying away from the yacht. 
My arms tighten around him, squeezing around his waist as my hips slip toward him on the soaked seat. My knees hug the outside of his thighs as we zip through the water, and my skin slides against his as the waves jostle us. My chest presses to his back, and I can’t help but become hyper aware of the lack of space between us and the warmth spreading through my limbs. Once he’s had his go at showing off, he slows the jet ski to a steady pace thats farther from the yacht. One of his hands releases his grip on the handle bars, resting over mine wrapped tightly around his waist. 
He laughs airily as his fingers rest on mine, “If you wanted to touch me like this, all you had to do was ask, liefje. You’ve got a death grip.”
A surge of confidence flows through my veins at the rasp in his voice, “Touch you like what, Max?”
My hand not covered by his runs across the elastic at the top of his shorts, skimming across skin and through the scattering of hair around his navel. I smirk as his breath catches and stomach clenched at my touch. 
I lean toward his ear, “Touch you like this?”
He takes a steadying breath, voice raspy as he speaks, “Please, don’t start something we can’t finish. It’s not your fault, but I can’t take it again.”
“That was nice of you, Maxie,” I say sweetly, leaning my chin on his shoulder. “Saying no because I was drunk even though I was begging for you.”
“It was the right thing,” he shrugs gently, breathing in sharply as my index finger continues its slow journey across his skin. “You were nearly impossible, though. Begging to suck me off like a good girl.”
“And if I still want to?” I hum, stopping my hands. 
“Then we need to figure out a way to be discreet,” he answers, craning his neck to look at me over his shoulder. “They’re probably wondering where we’ve gone now, and I don’t need your brother mad at me again in regard to you.”
“Then, let me drive,” I say to him, taking in his side profile beneath the beating sun. “We’ll say you were teaching me. Discreet, right?”
Surprisingly, it doesn’t take much convincing for Max to agree to letting me pilot the Red Bull branded jet ski. I reluctantly let go of his waist, fingers falling away from his waistband, and I notice his breath return to normal when I do. Max throws his arm out again, gripping my hand tightly to help me balance as I shimmy along the lip of the jet ski and over him to switch spots. He slides in behind me when I settle in front of the handlebars, and I notice the gap of space he leaves on purpose between us. His knees press against the outside of my thighs, and his arms wrap over mine to touch the handles. He does a crash course on piloting the jet ski, and while I pay some attention, I’m more focused on his voice in my ear and the closing gap between us. 
“You want to give it a go?” he asks, hands dropping from mine to settle at my waist instead. I nod, and he continues, “Ease onto the throttle, and hold tight to the handles.”
I follow his instructions, sending us gliding across the water in a crawl much slower than Max’s turn. As our speed picks up some, I let out a laugh as the waves batter against the hull of the jet ski. Max’s chest bumps into my back with the force of the waves, and his hips slide closer to mine. I feel him bump into my ass, and his breath hitches as it does. To test my theory, I arch my back ever so slightly, smirking when his hands tighten on my hips enough to leave soft bruises in their wake. He’s straining against his board shorts, nestled against my ass with every bump from the waves, and he groans when I look at him over my shoulder. 
“You’re such a tease,” his voice is strained. “You’re going to get us into trouble.”
“Us or you?” I hum, arching my back again as he sucks in air through his teeth. “I can control myself, Maxie.”
One of his hands slides to my inner thigh, fingers ghosting across the skin and skimming the seam of my red swimsuit bottoms. I gasp as he grins, white knuckling the handlebars, and the nickname I’ve used for him hangs heavy in the air. He leans forward, fingers stilling but resting heavy on my skin, and mutters lowly, “Do I need to remind you how you were begging?”
I arch my back into him, feeling his hardness press into me and his hand press into my leg, “Do I need to again?”
His fingers climb my inner thigh, rubbing circles across the supple skin, and I slump back into him at the sensation. Hands ease off the handlebars as the jet ski comes to a stall. Max’s laugh is quiet in my ear, his breath fanning across my neck, “It sounds like you don’t need any convincing.”
“Max,” I gasp, his fingers setting fire across my skin in their wake. “Max, please. I don’t care that they’re all here. I’ll make up an excuse.”
“Liefje, you and I both know it’s not a good idea,” he whispers quietly, fingers continuing their slow crawl on my skin. “No matter how bad I want to.”
“What happened to no teasing?” my chest heaves, fingers wrapping around his wrist. 
The waves lap against the jet ski, and Max chuckles quietly at my labored breathing. I arch my back again, pressing myself against Max, and he curses quietly at the pressure. One of his hands slides around my thigh, gripping the skin firmly as I gasp.
“You really want to do this now?” his voice is rough in my ear, clawing for any sense of clarity with my ass pressed against him. I nod my head against his shoulder, fingers gripping at his wrist tightly. He continues against my ear, “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to take us back to the yacht. You’re going to act like you’re going to be sick, and I’m just a helpful friend. If anyone asks later, I was helping you clean up after you got sick, got it?”
I nod my head, “And what is actually going to happen?”
“We find out how good of a listener you are,” he says, and I let out a whine at his words. 
Making it back to the yacht happens in a blur as I’m too consumed with images of what's to come, and lying to them on the bow is easy as Victoria asks where we’re headed. My distracted state helps sell the story, and I stumble into one of the bedrooms on the massive yacht. Max shuts the door behind him, making sure to click the lock on it, before facing me. I stand dumbly near the bed, watching his every move and ripple of his muscle as he takes steadying breaths. When our eyes meet, it’s like telepathy. 
We simultaneously launch at one another, lips clashing in a familiar dance with a ferocious pace. The club had been hazy, distant memories of his hands on my hips and in my hair and his lips on my skin, but this — this is the feeling of my skin being lit from within. His hands are in my hair, tugging at the strands with a force that makes me weak, and my fingers curl into his hair as he walks us toward the bed in the middle of the room. My knees hit the duvet, and we break apart long enough to scramble onto the bed before resuming our desperate dance. 
“Max, please,” I breathe as his lips work down my neck.
My hips press into his as his hands skim down my hips, “So impatient, liefje.”
“Need you to fuck me,” I say, and he groans as I do. 
Max looks up from stomach, his eyes hooded and grin on his face. The image of him between my legs and my hands in his hair nearly causes me to combust, but I could care less about how desperate I look. 
“You’re lucky we don’t have much time,” he answers, fingers reaching behind my back to tug at the bikini strings. 
The red top falls away from me, and Max’s fingers pull the damp material away to expose my chest. His hands palm my breasts, fingers gripping at peaked nipples as I moan into his touch. Desperate pleas fall from my lips at his ministrations, and my nails scrape lightly along his back. 
He groans quietly, lips brushing against my chest as he continues his tortuous touches, “Next time, when we have more time, I want to taste you.”
“Next time?” I grin, turning to a moan as his fingers dip into my swimsuit bottoms.
He nods, humming as he pulls the red bottoms down my legs, “You know there will be a next time, liefje. There’s too many things we want to do.”
I kick the bottoms off my legs in assistance, watching as he tosses them carelessly to the side before his hands tug at the waistband of his board shorts. My hands settle over his, and he slows his movements as he watches my every move. 
“Let me,” I whisper, hands replacing his as I tug slowly at the elastic band. 
He lets me, dropping one of his hands to his side and letting the other settle in my hair. I look up at him, biting back a grin and relishing in the power he holds over me. My fingers tug his board shorts down his thighs, hands stuttering as his cock leaps to attention when the barrier is gone. The board shorts are discarded along with my bikini in record time, and I take a moment to admire him towering over me. Fingers wrap around his shaft, and he watches with a sigh as my lips find him, wrapping around the head slowly before returning to my spot admiring him. 
“You’ll get to, liefje,” he grunts quietly, nudging me back toward the bed. “When we have more time. Right now, fucking you is all I can think about.”
I curse at his words, letting him maneuver me among the pillows as he crawls over top of me. Our lips meet again, swollen lips clashing as his hips press against mine. I moan into the kiss, feeling the weight of him on my body and desperate for me. One of his hands slips between us, finding my clit to rub slow circles while his other hand slides down my leg, gently wrapping around my calf. He lifts my leg, fingers pressing into my calf, and lets it rest against his arm hooked at my hip. With another plea and minimal thought, he hoists my other leg before sliding into me. The press of him against me is mind-altering, causing my eyes to squeeze shut as my nails sink into his shoulders. The moan that falls from my lips as he slides all the way into me should be embarrassing, but I can’t think about anything else but Max.
“I know, babe,” he groans, stilling as he heaves for air. “God, you’re perfect.”
“Max, I-” I start, eyes opening to meet his. “You feel so good.”
“Fuck, we’re doing this again,” he mutters, hands pressing into my hips as he moves slowly. 
My eyes flutter shut at the sensation, another moan as he begins a slow pace into me, “I never want it to end.”
“We never have to,” he answers, sweat beginning to bead at his hairline. 
The pace he picks up is relentless, and the slap of his skin against mine is obscene. I can’t bring myself to care, too focused on the way Max fills me and his hands leave bruises on my skin. He hoists my legs higher to rest on his shoulders, and he hits a spot so deep within me that my eyes screw shit as I let out a pathetic whimper. 
“There you go, baby,” he grunts, keeping his relentless pace. “Let me hear it, doll. I feel it, too.”
“Max, fuck,” I choke, eyes beginning to roll into the back of my head. “I’m going to-”
“I know, liefje,” he groans, voice a rasp in my ear. “I’m nearly there. Tell me where you want me.”
“Want you in me,” I answer, fingers gripping his shoulders tightly as a desperate attempt to keep from spiraling over the edge. “Please.”
“Fuck, I can’t say no to you,” he mutters, hips stuttering at a crushing pace against me. 
I try to tell him — to warn him that I’m too far gone — but I can’t get any words out as the sensation overwhelms me. My eyes screw shut as I slump against the pillows, and Max isn’t far behind as I clench around him. I’m filled with warmth, and in the haze of what we’d just done, I find comfort in his body pressed to mine and our intimate connection. He lingers for a moment as he regains his senses, pulling out gently to which I protest, but he returns with tissues to clean me up as best as he can before reaching for my bathing suit for me. He props my still shaking body up, tying my bikini straps for me and sliding straps up my shoulders. 
“C’mon, up you go,” he whispers, helping to pull my red bottoms up my legs and tugging at the waistband to cover my bruised hips. “There you go, pretty girl.”
He tugs his board shorts on himself, and I watch as he tucks himself into the waistband. Red scratches and indents adorn the milky skin of his back, and my cheeks burn red at the damage I’ve done.
“You’ll need a shirt to go back down, I’m sorry,” I whisper. 
He laughs as he leans forward, kissing my lips gently, “I’ll tell them its from the jet ski if they ask. You got scared when I went too fast, but you were good and took it, didn’t you?”
“Fuck you,” I groan. “How am I supposed to go down there and pretend I didn’t have the best sex of my life?”
He grabs my hand to help pull me up from the mattress, “I’d agree with that statement.”
As we head to the end of the hallway, lingering at the top of the stairs to take us back to the bow, I turn to Max, hand resting on his chest as our eyes meet. We both grin when we meet eyes, and I laugh quietly as he wiggles his eyes.
“The rest of holiday, can we do this?” I ask gently, rubbing gentle circles into his skin.
“More than just holiday,” he answers, caressing my ass as we walk down the steps. I swat at him as we near the steps, but he continues, “Tonight after dinner. My room. We have no schedule.”
I watch as he heads toward Dion, leaving me to go back to the girls. God, I’m screwed.
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