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#tell my mom I’m famous
starfishpufferfish · 2 years
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WHAT!!!!?????? WHAAAATTTTTRR??????????? /pos
I am FREAAKKKIIING OHT THIS IS WHAGAAAAAATTT OH MY GOD MY FRIEND SENT ME THIS TIKTOK AND WHAAT!!?????!!!!! THATS ME????????? ATHATS MY ART???????????????? OH MY GODIM WTF THIS FEELS SO COOL
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ME RNNNN
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glowsticcc · 2 years
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i never thought this day would come and honestly idk whether to be offended or honored
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passiveagressivepoet · 2 months
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have i officially made it on tumblr now that someone’s responded get help to a post i wrote
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queenangella · 5 months
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my moms disappointed in me that I told my aunt to shut up and follow my grandmas schedule cause she tried to force dessert out so she could leave earlier but what is she gonna do? ignore me? did that already for two years. look mad at me? would be like n improvement from last years Christmas where she literally didn’t look at me once let alone talk to me
#actually was kinda different I just can’t stand when I say my opinion and other people are like ‘well I just won’t say anything anymore the#:)’#she was like ‘okay you can decide everything and I wont say anything anymore:)’ and I was like ‘yeah that’s right cause this is not your#fucking house so you don’t actually get to decide everything:) shut up:)’#no one fucking likes you and your cheap ass gifts and your mediocre grocery store bought snacks#now my moms like ok next time just be quiet and go along with her to keep the peace like bitch I will literally start a feud I don’t care#I should keep the peace?? bc if there’s be a feud people would side with me over her ten times over#you really think people will side with her when I’m the one who helped set everything up and made gourmet aperos and gave my grandma#something handcrafted to thank her for hosting us while she cant barely bother to show up at her own mom twice a year at Christmas and#easter?? bc she lives a whole two hours away?? bitch when I lived three countries over I saw my grandma more than you did#your husband wasn’t even allowed out of the house for his own dads funeral you think even he’s gonna side with you?? bitch#don’t wanna sound like a snob cause I really don’t care about cheap gifts or grocery story snacks but you have to realise she and her#husband are both doctors and rich and they have a nanny for their twenty year old kids who also cooks and cleans and they live right next to#two famous people and have a vacation house in portugal and also zero friends you really tell me she can’t do better than a five euro gift#for secret Santa when the decided on amount was twenty euros?
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woundedheartwithin · 5 months
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I just spotted a post from your blog posted to the Yakuza/RGG subreddit lol
Omg I breached containment?????
Of course it’s that post lmfao
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pucksandpower · 1 month
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Lover
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: the little (and not so little) ways that you and Charles show your love for each other
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You’re in the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear as you listen intently to Charles’ mother give you her famous tiramisu recipe step-by-step. “Now, this next part is very important,” she stresses. “You’ll need one cup of granulated sugar to add to the mascarpone filling.”
“Got it, one cup sugar for the filling,” you confirm.
Pascale chuckles warmly. “I’m so glad Charles has found such a lovely girl who wants to learn my recipes. He’s always loved my tiramisu since he was a little boy.”
You smile, touched by her kind words. You and Charles have been together for a year now, but it still makes your heart flutter to be so accepted into his close-knit family.
“It means so much to me that you’re sharing this recipe with me,” you tell Pascale sincerely.
You chat with her a while longer, going over some of the trickier steps and getting tips on how to best soak the ladyfingers. Finally, you have the full recipe memorized and are ready to give it a try.
“Okay, I think I’ve got it now. Thank you so much again, Pascale! I really appreciate you taking the time to walk me through this.”
“Of course, chère! Let me know how it turns out. Charles is a lucky man to have such a thoughtful girlfriend,” Pascale says warmly before hanging up.
You grin, eager to get started. You know tiramisu is Charles’ absolute favorite dessert and you want to surprise him with a homemade version tonight after he finally comes back from his latest race.
Humming to yourself, you gather the ingredients — mascarpone, eggs, espresso, cocoa powder, and of course, the sugar. You double check you have everything and preheat the oven so the ladyfingers will be perfect.
As you start the recipe, you feel a rush of excitement. You follow each step meticulously, Pascale’s voice guiding you in your mind. You carefully separate the eggs and beat the whites to stiff peaks. When it’s time to add the sugar to the mascarpone filling, you pause.
Now, which one was the sugar again? You look between the two identical jars of white powder, second-guessing yourself.
Shoot, you should have labeled them.
After a moment of hesitation, you decide on the bowl on the left. Yes, that must be sugar, you reassure yourself. You mix it into the silky mascarpone filling until it’s perfectly combined. Once assembled, you spread the filling over the ladyfingers and cover it with a final dusting of cocoa powder.
It looks absolutely beautiful. You did it! You made Charles’ favorite dessert completely from scratch. You can’t wait to see the look on his face when he takes the first delicious bite.
You glance at the clock as you clean up. Charles will be home soon. You carefully store the tiramisu in the fridge to chill until after dinner.
Right on time, you hear Charles’ keys in the lock. You hurry to greet him, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “I missed you!”
He grins and nuzzles your neck. “And I missed you, ma belle.”
Over dinner on the balcony, Charles tells you all about the race and his ambitious one-stop strategy under the Suzuka cherry blossoms. You listen attentively, asking questions and laughing at his dramatic reenactments.
Finally, it’s time for dessert. “I have a surprise for you,” you say with a playful smile.
Charles’ eyes light up. “Oh really? Do tell!”
You bring the chilled tiramisu to the table, along with two small plates and forks. “Ta-da! I made your favorite, with your mom’s secret recipe.”
“No way, you’re kidding!” Charles exclaims. He takes in the layered dessert with delight. “It looks incredible, mon cœur. I can’t believe you did this for me.”
You blush happily as you dish out servings for both of you. “I hope I did it justice. Your mom walked me through the whole thing over the phone.”
Charles takes a big eager bite, closing his eyes as he savors it. “Mmm … it’s absolutely delicious,” he declares after swallowing. “Seriously, this is amazing. Here, you have to try it!”
He holds out a forkful toward you. You accept it into your mouth, immediately bursting into incredulous laughter. “Oh my god, this is so salty! I definitely screwed up somewhere. You don’t have to eat it!”
But Charles just grins and takes another hearty bite. “What do you mean? It tastes perfect to me.”
You stare at him in confusion. “You can’t actually like this, Charles. It’s like I poured the entire salt shaker in by accident.”
“No no, it’s great! The best tiramisu I’ve ever had,” he insists. Seeing your disbelief, he takes your hand from across the table. “Really, Y/N. I love it because you made it just for me. With love. That’s what makes it so special.”
You feel your insides turn soft and melty at his words. “You’re just saying that to be nice,” you protest weakly.
He shakes his head. “I’m saying it because it’s true. Because ...” He pauses, looking into your eyes sincerely. “Because I’m completely in love with you, mon amour. I’d eat a thousand salty tiramisus if it made you smile like this.”
You can’t help the joyful laugh that escapes you. “You’re such a hopeless romantic, you know that?” You tease him.
“Only for you,” he flirts back with a playful wink.
You lean across the table to kiss him tenderly. When you pull back, the adoration shining in his green eyes leaves you breathless.
Maybe he’s right. It doesn’t matter that the tiramisu is an utter fail. All that matters is that you made it with love.
And that’s the sweetest taste of all.
***
It’s been a few weeks since your salty tiramisu mishap. You and Charles laughed about it afterwards, but you were still determined to make him something special with your own two hands.
So you decided to take up crocheting. It was trickier than you expected, but you persevered, watching YouTube tutorials and getting tangled in yarn for hours.
Finally, after a month of work, you’ve produced your first wearable creation — a sweater for Charles.
It’s an oversized style, cream colored with red racing stripes across the chest. You did your best to evenly stitch the rows, but there are gaps in some places that cause the stripes to waver drunkenly.
The sleeves are several inches too long, dangling adorably over Charles’ hands when he tries it on. And the neckline gapes open no matter how he tugs it.
But none of the flaws matter to Charles. His face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning when you present it to him.
“You made this? For me?” He asks as he eagerly pulls it on.
You nod, suddenly shy. “I wanted to make something special for you, even if my skills are still .... developing,” you admit with an embarrassed chuckle.
But Charles is beaming, admiring himself in the mirror. “It’s perfect! Seriously, I love it. This is the best gift ever!”
He engulfs you in a big hug, sleeves flopping over you. You hug him back, relieved and happy he appreciates your efforts.
From that day on, Charles insists on wearing the sweater constantly, even styling it with whatever eclectic pants he decides to wear on race weekends.
You try to discourage him — the holes along the hem are getting bigger from snagging and the neckline is truly unsalvageable.
But Charles won’t hear it. “Are you kidding? This is my new lucky charm!” He declares. “I have to wear it for every race now.”
Sure enough, he starts a winning streak whenever he dons your handmade sweater, even though it’s quite a departure from the fitted shirts and designer hoodies he previously favored, leaving his fans scratching their heads at the sudden change.
You watch in amused endearment as he proudly wears your gift for candid pre-race interviews and photo-ops. The overlong sleeves just make his exuberant gestures even more adorable.
Finally, a reporter works up the courage to ask him about the quirky sweater. “That’s quite a statement piece you have been arriving in each Sunday,” the reporter comments during a press conference. “What made you decide to wear it?”
Charles’ face lights up even more. “My sweater? It was handmade for me by my incredible girlfriend,” he announces, making you blush furiously from the audience.
“She worked so hard on it, even though crocheting is totally new to her. So I wear it to show how much I appreciate her and how talented she is,” he continues sincerely.
The reporters “aww” as Charles shows off the uneven stitches like they’re couture. “It’s my good luck charm now too! She put so much love into making it that I feel like I can’t lose whenever I have it on.”
He looks directly at you, eyes shining. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever received, because she made it just for me. I’m the luckiest man in the world to be with someone so thoughtful and caring.”
You have to wipe away joyful tears at his heartfelt words. You never imagined your clumsy crocheting would come to mean so much to him.
But Charles wears that sweater for every race, no matter how tattered it gets. Because for him, it represents something priceless — your love.
***
You hum along to the radio as you stir the melted chocolate in a bowl. The rich aroma fills the air of your shared apartment. Today is Valentine’s Day and you want to surprise your boyfriend with homemade chocolate-covered strawberries when he gets home from training.
You dip the first plump, red strawberry into the silky chocolate, letting the excess drip off before placing it gently onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. One by one, you coat each strawberry, taking care to fully submerge them.
When the tray is full, you quickly pop one glistening strawberry into your mouth and slide the rest into the fridge to let the chocolate harden. As you wait, you tidy up the kitchen, washing the bowls and utensils used to make the treat. A glance at the clock on the microwave tells you Charles will be home soon.
The sound of the front door opening makes you grin. “Mon amour, I’m back!” Charles calls out.
You grab the tray of chocolate-covered strawberries and head towards his voice. “Welcome home! I have a surprise for y-”
You stop short, your throat suddenly feeling scratchy and tight. Your lips tingle oddly.
Confused, you lift a hand to your neck. Is this just excitement to see Charles? But no, your tongue is starting to swell now too. Your breathing becomes labored.
Charles rounds the corner. “Mon ange, what’s wro-” His eyes widen as he takes in your distress. In a few quick strides he is by your side, the tray clattering forgotten to the floor. “What’s happening?”
You wheeze, barely able to force out words. “Can’t … breathe …”
Charles sweeps you into his arms and runs for the front door. “Hospital. Now.”
You cling to him, each ragged breath a struggle. The world seems to blur and tilt alarmingly.
Then somehow you’re in Charles’ car, speeding down the street. One of his hands grips the wheel while the other clutches yours tightly. “Just hold on, stay with me. We’re almost there.”
You try to respond but only manage a choked gurgle. Black spots swim across your vision. A feeling of detachment steals over you.
The car screeches to a stop outside the emergency department entrance. Charles lifts you from the passenger seat, calling for help. There is a flurry of activity as a team of doctors and nurses rushes over with a gurney.
You are barely aware of being wheeled into an exam room, too focused on trying to pull air into your lungs. A mask is fitted over your face, dispensing blessed oxygen. An IV is inserted into your arm.
The medical staff works quickly, asking Charles questions as they begin treatment. Antihistamines. Steroids. Epinephrine. The medications slowly start to counteract your reaction. The vice-like tightness in your chest and throat gradually lessens.
After what feels like an eternity, you are able to take full breaths again. The room comes back into focus, no longer spinning. Charles sits at your bedside, clutching your hand, his handsome face creased with worry.
The doctor examines you, nodding with satisfaction as your symptoms continue to improve. “It appears you had a severe allergic reaction. We’ll run some tests to determine the cause.”
Charles looks stricken. “But how? What could have possibly …” His gaze falls on your swollen lips. “The strawberries,” he whispers.
You nod weakly. It had to have been. You’ve never reacted to them before, but an allergy can develop at any time.
Charles smoothes back your hair, distress pouring off of him. “I’m so sorry, mon cœur. I should have been there with you.”
You squeeze his hand. “You couldn’t have known. I’m okay now thanks to you.”
He just shakes his head, unconvinced.
The testing confirms it — you are now mysteriously allergic to strawberries. The doctor gives you an EpiPen prescription and strict instructions to the fruit in the future.
After several more hours of observation, you are finally discharged from the hospital with an exhausted Charles supporting you.
The sun has long since set on what was supposed to have been a romantic Valentine’s Day. Instead, you spent it swollen and terrified in the ER.
Back home, Charles tucks you into bed, insisting you rest. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror — puffy-faced and red-eyed — and cringe. Some Valentine you turned out to be.
You reach for Charles’ hand again. “I’m so sorry I ruined our evening. I wanted it to be perfect but instead I ended up scaring you half to death and forcing you to rush me to the hospital.”
Charles silences you with a gentle kiss. “Not another word, mon amour. You have nothing to apologize for. All that matters is that you are safe.”
He caresses your cheek, looking at you with such love and tenderness it makes your heart ache. “You could never ruin anything. You are the light of my life — my everything. No Valentine’s Day is complete without you.”
You feel yourself tearing up. Even after the ordeal of this evening, he still looks at you like you hung the moon.
“You’re still the most beautiful Valentine I’ve ever had, you know that? A little swelling can’t hide that.” Charles brushes away your tears and pulls you close. “Rest now. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
You nestle into his embrace, letting his warmth and steady heartbeat soothe you. As you drift off, you can’t help but marvel at how lucky you are to have this man. Even at your puffiest and most distressed, he thinks you’re beautiful.
No matter what surprises life throws at you, with Charles by your side you know everything will be okay. He loves you unconditionally — swollen lips, hospital visits, and all.
***
“Close your eyes,” you say to Charles as you lead him into the living room.
He laughs and covers his eyes with his hands. “What are you up to, mon amour?”
You grin, though he cannot see it. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
You guide him across the room, hands on his shoulders. He shuffles along, peeking through his fingers.
“No peeking!” You scold, and he squeezes his eyes shut again, smiling.
You position him in front of the coffee table. “Okay,” you say. “You can open your eyes now.”
Charles drops his hands. On the table sits a large gift-wrapped box with a massive red bow on top. His eyes go wide with surprise and delight.
“For me?”
You nod, bouncing on your toes excitedly. “Happy birthday!”
He pulls you into a tight hug. “You are too good to me, ma belle. Thank you.” Leaning down, he captures your lips in a sweet kiss.
You swat his shoulder playfully. “You don’t even know what it is yet! Open it.”
Charles grins and turns his attention to the present. He carefully unties the bow and lifts the lid on the box. Inside sits a sleek red bomber jacket with the Ferrari logo embroidered on the chest. He runs his fingers over the leather appreciatively.
“This is beautiful,” he murmurs.
“Look on the back,” you prompt.
Charles turns the jacket over. Across the back, in bold white letters, it reads: DADDY.
His eyes go wide again, and for a moment he just stands there gaping at the jacket. Then his eyes roll back in his head and he collapses to the floor in a dead faint.
“Charles!” You rush to his side, kneeling next to him on the plush carpet. Gently you pat his cheek, trying to rouse him. “Charles, wake up!”
After a few tense moments, his eyelashes begin to flutter. You breathe a sigh of relief as he opens his eyes.
“Wha … what happened?” He mumbles.
“You fainted, silly.”
You help him sit up slowly. He puts a hand to his head, still looking dazed.
“I had the strangest dream …” He trails off, glancing around the room. His gaze lands on the jacket lying nearby, and his eyes widen again.
“It wasn’t a dream,” you say softly.
Charles looks at you, lips parted in shock. “Then you … you’re …”
You furrow your brow in confusion. “I’m what?”
“Pregnant!” He exclaims. “We’re having a baby!”
Now it’s your turn for your eyes to go wide. “What? No! I’m not pregnant!”
Charles frowns, thoroughly bewildered. “But the jacket said … I thought it was your way of telling me we’re expecting.”
You can’t help but laugh. “Oh my goodness, no. The jacket is for a very different reason.”
He looks almost disappointed. “It is?”
You take his hands in yours. “I know you’ve been talking about getting a dog for months now, ever since you met Mimi.”
Comprehension begins to dawn on Charles’s face. “So the jacket …”
“Is for our new puppy!” You finish excitedly.
Charles’ face lights up. “You got me a dog? Really?”
You nod, grinning. “Really! I picked him up yesterday from the shelter. He’s the cutest little dachshund, white with brown spots. I’ve been keeping him at your brother’s so I could surprise you today.”
Charles whoops and tackles you in another ecstatic hug. You laugh as he covers your face in rapid, smacking kisses.
“This is the best birthday surprise ever!” He crows. “I can’t believe we’re finally getting a dog. And the jacket — it’s perfect!”
He grabs the bomber and shrugs it on over his t-shirt. It fits him flawlessly, the white lettering bold against the red.
Charles scrambles to his feet and rushes to the nearest mirror, twisting this way and that to admire himself. “I love it! Thank you, thank you!”
You stand and wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m so glad. But you should really be thanking your new baby boy.”
Charles turns in your arms and cups your face in his hands. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best girlfriend in the world?”
You grin up at him. “Hmm, I don’t recall. Feel free to remind me.”
“You …” He punctuates each word with a kiss. “Are …” kiss “The …” kiss “Most …” kiss “Thoughtful …” kiss “Loving …” kiss “Girlfriend …” kiss “In …” kiss “The …” kiss “World.”
You pretend to swoon. “My, what a sweet talker you are.”
He chuckles and kisses you tenderly. When you break apart, his eyes are shining.
“So when do I get to meet our new baby?” He asks eagerly.
“Right now, if you want,” you say. “We can go pick him up from Lorenzo.”
Charles pumps a fist in the air. “Yes! I’m going to be the best dog dad ever, just you wait and see.” He crouches down and coos, “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?”
You pat his head playfully. “You’re a good boy.”
Taking your hand, he practically drags you out the door, babbling excitedly about names, beds, toys, and treats for the puppy the whole way to the car. Your heart swells watching his enthusiasm. You know that dog is going to be the most loved and cared for pup in the world.
When you arrive at his brother’s apartment, Charles bounds up to the front door ahead of you, unable to contain his excitement. Lorenzo opens it laughing, the wiggling brown and white puppy in his arms.
“Someone’s here to see you!” He says, handing the squirming bundle of fluff to Charles.
“Hello, hello!” Charles cuddles the puppy to his chest, his whole face alight with pure joy. The pup responds by licking every inch of Charles’ face he can reach.
Charles laughs delightedly. “Aren’t you just the sweetest boy? Yes you are!”
He looks up at you, eyes shining. “Thank you, mon cœur. This is the best gift I could have asked for.”
You lean in and scratch the puppy behind his silky ears. “Of course. Happy birthday, my love.”
As you walk back to the car, Charles cradling the puppy like a newborn, you know in your heart that your little family is one step closer to completion.
***
The race weekend after Charles’ birthday feels strange. As you wander through the Ferrari garage during free practice, Fred rushes over looking concerned.
“Here, take a seat,” the team principal says, grabbing a folding chair and positioning it behind you. “You should not be on your feet so much in your condition.”
You frown in confusion. “What condition?”
But the French man has already hurried away. Shaking your head, you continue walking. It’s a few minutes later that you spot Pierre.
“Hey!” He says, jogging up to you. Before you can react, he places both hands on your stomach and smiles brightly. “Wow, it’s hard to believe that little baby Leclerc is in there! I can’t wait to meet my niece or nephew.”
Now you’re really bewildered. You take a small step back from Pierre’s wandering hands. “What are you talking about? I’m not pregnant!”
Pierre laughs. “Very funny. You don’t have to hide it from me.” He winks and walks away.
When Charles finds you later, you’re still puzzling over the strange encounter.
“Everyone is acting so weird,” you tell him, explaining what’s been happening all day. "It’s like they all think I’m pregnant or something."
Charles frowns. “That is odd. Where would they get that idea?”
You shake your head. “I have no idea …”
Later, after the last practice session of the day, you wander into Ferrari hospitality for a quick cup of coffee. Carlos quickly spots you and makes a beeline over, cheeks flushed with excitement.
“I just saw the photos of Charles wearing his new jacket.” He says. “A mini Leclerc on the way, how wonderful! Congratulations to you both.”
“What? No, there’s no …” you start to protest, but Carlos is already walking away.
Charles comes up beside you, having overheard. “This is getting out of hand,” he mutters. “We need to clear this up.”
“I know!” You say. “I feel bad, they all seem so excited. They must think we’re hiding a pregnancy from them.”
An idea comes to you then. Turning to Charles, you say loudly, “Honey, why don’t we go introduce the baby to everyone? I know they’re all just dying to meet him!”
Charles catches on immediately, smiling slyly. “Of course! Let’s go get our little one right now.”
You nod, linking your arm through his. As you walk away, you hear gasps and murmurs behind you.
“They already had the baby? When did this happen?”
“I can’t believe they’ve been hiding it all this time!”
You have to stifle a laugh. Charles grins and squeezes your hand.
In his driver’s room, your puppy is napping contentedly on a plush dog bed. Charles scoops him up gently so as not to wake him. Cradling the pup, you both head back out to the hospitality suite.
Everyone turns to look at you eagerly as you enter. Carlos steps forward, craning his neck to see the bundle in Charles’ arms.
“Here he is!” You announce proudly. “Our baby boy!”
Charles turns so they can see the sleeping dachshund nestled against his bomber jacket. A shocked silence falls over the room.
“Wha … that’s not a baby!” Carlos splutters. “That’s a dog!”
You and Charles just shrug with matching sly smiles. “He’s our baby.”
As the puppy yawns and stretches in Charles’ arms, licking his chin affectionately, you know with certainty that your furry new addition will be showered with just as much love and adoration as you both share for one another.
Who could ask for anything more?
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tiyoin · 1 month
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parents day shenanigans
ep 1: trey’s mom tries playing match maker
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it being parents weekend at nrc and you’re helping your friends / the staff in preparing and you noticed several different parents just… staring at you. they’re not discreet either😭
you see some students fighting their parents- like physically fighting them as they’re pushing their son in your direction 😭 you catch one of the students gaze, and smile at them, sending them a polite wave as you make your exit.
this doesn’t stop though.
the more time that goes by and the busier you get, the more families filter in. the more younger siblings of your peers seem to scream your name before a quick slap to their mouth keeps them quiet.
you’ve told grim about this and all he says is that he should start paying them to take pictures with you AND grin the great. you chuckle as you kneel to the ground. opening a small duffel bag crowley armed you with, you start mixing around for a bottle of water.
why’d crowley have to pick the hottest day of the season for family day. curses.
“you’re y/n, right?” suddenly a shadow blocked the beating sun from your crouched form. the voice, for once, was feminine, it was soft and flowy. clearing your throat, you began to turn around “yes, that’s me” looking up at the rather petite woman, you noted her kind smile and rosy cheeks.
though there was a bit of… something in her golden gaze that you couldn’t quite place. it reminded you of a hawk, yet it didn’t have the same intensity as the bird of prey’s. slightly guarded of the mystery woman, you began to stand, dusting off the dirt on your uniform pants.
“grim you mind getting me a bottle of water from the duffel” “uh, yeah i do mind” he huffed, turning his nose up. but you didn’t play into his antics this time, just softly thanking him as you turned to face the woman.
and just as you thought, in a few seconds you heard grumbling and rustling as the monster looked through the duffel.
“i’m sorry, it was rude of me to not introduce myself- i’m trey’s mom, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” sticking her hand out, you stared at it for a second, flickering your gaze to her smiling eyes before you hesitantly focused on shaking her hand.
“it’s really nice to meet you mrs.clover” she laughed, flicking her hand as if you told her a joke.
“please, just call me alice! with how much my son talks about you it feels like we’re already friends!” she smiled behind her hand. her eyes never leaving yours as she watched your jaw open in shock.
“he- he talks about me?”
like vil schonheit, she gasped in surprise, her hands flying to her mouth as if she just realized she ratted on her son. “oops! silly me, i shouldn’t have told you that! please don’t tell try what i told you the next time you see him, okay?”
about to swear your silence, her hands lowered as her lip quirked up “or do, he’s adorable when he’s flustered” and just like that the smirk was gone and her sweet persona took over.
“o- okay” you gulped due to the lost of words you seem to find yourself at. what the hell was happening??? it hasn’t even been five minutes and this woman has made you go through the 3 of the however amount of stages of grief already.
“here” a cute, raspy voice said from behind you. feeling a small few tugs on your pant sleeve, you accept the water bottle from grim, immediately chugging it to combat the new heat you found yourself in.
“oh what an adorable cat you have there, i’ve heard all about ‘grim the great’ as well” she leaned down to pet his head. normally- normally grim would snap his teeth at an unwelcome touch… and yet- grim seemed to welcome it no, enjoy it was his ever so famous grin exposed more teeth than you’ve ever seen.
“nya-ah!! see! i told you everyone loves grim the great!” picking up the boasting cat, you could only roll your eyes as you adjusted him in your grip.
“geez grim, go to town on the tuna last night? i swear you weren’t this heavy yesterday” you groaned, trying to fix him with your knee.
huffing, grim crossed his arms and refused to look at you or acknowledge your struggling. “hmph! a henchman should always be able to carry their master! you’re just weak!!” “am not”
“allow me to try” a voice interjected.
you wanted to smack yourself in the face for forgetting someone- let alone trey’s mother was here and a witness to your usual shenanigans with your partner in crime.
“are you sure?” you look at his squishy tummy as you offer her a coy smile“he’s quite heavy”
“pshh- nonsense! i’m a baker! we’re used to carrying all sorts of things. we’re quite strong so to say.” she takes him from your grasp easily. and with the same easiness, she put him in a comfortable baby position where his legs were around his waist, arms around her neck, and his neck over her shoulder.
“there! easy peasy lemon squeezy!” you could hear from sigh in content, his forked tailed swooshing happily.
“remind me not to get in an arm wrestling match with you anytime soon” you mused, looking around nervously as the woman wouldn’t stop staring at you.
laughing softly, she shook her head “it’s not me you should be worried about-“
“mom?!”
kill me now. kill me now. kill me now.
“speak of the devil and he shall come! trey baby how are you! i thought you were with your father and your younger siblings”
trey made his way up to your little group from behind you, stopping only when he turned the line into a triangle.
“y-y/n! i’m sorry if my mom said anything weird”
waving him with a woobly smile, you jerked your head towards his mom. “she’s actually been a great help with keeping this one outta my hair” trey looked at the furry sack in his mother’s arms and only sighed.
“mom-“
“now now trey, let the ladies talk in peace okay!”
you swore you could see a grey hair manifesting as he sighed. “mom y/n is super busy and has to get back to work, let me introduce you to my science club teacher okay?”
quick and straight to the point, trey clover as usual had an agenda and that was to get his mom away from you before she said anything too revealing.
huffing, the woman pet grim once more before giving him over to you. but before that, she made sure to fix the cat monster’s position to where he was resting on your hip. with a proud smile she stepped back and looked at the two of you.
“look at you!! a natural!” she clapped, eyeing her son next to you for a moment before she bid you farewell. (not without a few comments herself )
there was a beat of silence before he sighed again. rubbing the nape of his neck he adverted his eyes bashfully. “i’m sorry about her, she’s a bit…”
“bubbly?”
“ambitious, that too- but definitely ambitious. she’s head of marketing for our family bakery for a reason”
“no shit” you gapped, watching the short haired woman vanish in the crowd. still nodding, albeit awkwardly this time, you adjusted your grip on the heavy cat. “he’s like a fat toddler” you joked, wanting a small chuckle from your senior.
“yeah… you’re definitely right about that”
“trey! honey! i forgot to give your friend her treat!”
like a panther, she jumped out from the sea of swarming families with a purpose.
“oh my sevens ” he breathed, rubbing his creasing brows. smiling up at him, you made a comment about it just being a treat.
“because of my son’s dorm” she started once she was within ear shot “i wanted to make his friends a little something something”
“now i see where you get your baking prowess from” you elbowed him, but he was too busy keeping his flushed face in the palm of his hands to respond.
“here you go~” she cooed “it’s a chocolate lollipop! in the shape of a heart! cute right! trey made it himself!”
“that’s cause i thought they were for an-“
ignoring her son, she started explaining the wrapped sweet to you. “oh yeah it’s definitely one of his best works!”
“really?” you mused, looking up at him “even better than your tiramisu?” he shrugged, still ostrich-info in his pile of sand (his hands).
“even better~ now c’mon trey! we have to find maddie, she’s wondered off again”
“again?” his head popped out as his glasses were a bit crooked, being a friendly neighbor, you did the only natural thing.
“uh trey” you pointed at your own face once you made eye contact “your glasses are a bit crooked”
cursing silently, he fixed him with a quick thank you before he rushed off in whatever direction his mom had come from.
and finally, with a big thumbs up and a toothy, shiny smile, she left to follow her son.
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starkwlkr · 1 year
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annoying little brothers | f1
female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) (same age as daniel so 33)
part 2 part 3
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Y/N L/N BEING THE FUNNIEST DRIVER ON THE GRID
The video starts of with a press conference from the United States Grand Prix. Y/n was seated with Charles, Pierre, Daniel and Sebastian her being in the middle of all the men who she considered her brothers.
She was listening to all the questions the men were receiving from how they thought they were going to do, how’s the team doing, etc. But when a reported finally asked her a question, she completely blanked.
“Sorry, I was just thinking about my son. We were supposed to get breakfast together and he hasn’t texted me back. I haven’t seen Lando all day.” Y/‘ said making the drivers and reporters laugh.
“When did you adopt Lando? I wasn’t aware.” Daniel played along.
“2019. He was actually lost when I met him. It was during the Australian Grand Prix, his first f1 race. I found him and we did the Melbourne walk together and I’ve just kind of adopted ever since. So if any of you bully my son, I’m coming after you.” Y/n explained.
“He’s probably texting you right now saying ‘stop embarrassing me, mom!’” Sebastian went on.
“Wait, he’s over there!” Pierre spotted the Brit rushing towards their direction.
“He’s alive!” Charles cheered.
Finally, Lando arrived to their interview area with a box from a a bakery in his hand. “Sorry, I have to drop this off. We’ll get breakfast tomorrow. I got you pastries.” Lando gave Y/n the box and a hug then he was off since he was late for his interview.
“You’ve raised your son well.” The reporter joked.
“That was all me, I needed no help.”
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The next clip was a fan video from 2021. Y/n had just finished her date with a guy and now she was signing autographs and taking photos with a group of girls. The girls had just finished their meals at a restaurant when they spotted the f1 driver leaving with a guy. The politely asked for a photo, which y/n was more than glad to take. Her date stepped aside to give them a moment.
“Sorry to interrupt your date.” A girl apologized for her and all her friends.
“Nothing to be sorry about, honey. I’m actually nervous because I don’t know how the date went. I’m horrible at first dates so this is kinda making me less stressed.” Y/n admitted. The girls laughed as y/n signed a girls phone case.
“Has he met Lando?” Another girl asked knowing how close y/n and lando are.
“Not yet. I’m afraid that Lando might scare him off. Everyone on the grid might, especially seb. He will definitely give him one of those ‘treat her right or I will run you over’ speeches.” Y/n signed another phone case.
“Does he knows you’re famous?”
“Oh god, no! I told him I was unemployed and that a sugar daddy was giving me money. I’m surprised he still agreed to come on this date with me.” Y/n chuckled.
Months later, the guy ended up being y/n’s boyfriend. He even attended the British Grand Prix where he finally met Lando, who was actually the one to tell him to treat y/n right or he would run him over.
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The next clip started off with the intro to grill the grid. The challenge was to guess the driver’s numbers, something that y/n was semi confident about.
“So we start off with my man, Danny, number three.” She wrote down on her clipboard. “Four, my son, Lando. Also ever since I met Lando I’ve been seeing the number four quite often. It’s scary actually. Can’t decide if Lando put a curse on me or not.”
“Would he do that?”
“He shouldn’t,” y/n raised her voice slightly. “Anyways, next is … oh! Seb! I don’t know why I couldn’t think of him right away. Then we have latifi at number six then kimi at seven.” She continued writing down the names.
“Nine ….Mazepin.” She fought the urge to roll her eyes since her and the driver were never on good terms.
“Ten, my favorite frenchie well one of, we treat everyone nice here, gasly.” Y/n winked at the camera. “Eleven, the mexican minister of defense, Perez. And then we have me! Thirteen!”
“Do you think Lando got your number right?”
“I don’t doubt him ever.”
“Thirteen, my mother! Everyone better get that right.” Lando pointed at the camera menacingly.
“Fourteen, Alonzo. Sixteen, Leclerc Charles. Eighteen, stroll and twenty two!” Y/n sang the number in the tune of taylor swift’s song. “Yuki! Thirty one, Esteban, my other frenchie. Thirty three, max does he have a middle name verstappen.”
“Have you noticed that you haven’t gotten any wrong yet?”
“I’m just the best, that’s why.” Y/n laughed. “Forty four, the seven time world champion, sir lewis hamilton. Fourty seven, mick mick mick. I love to say his name.”
Y/n had completely forgotten she had to be writing the names down. She was having too much fun.
“Fifty five, carlos smooth operator sainz jr. sixty three, the man with two first names, russell george.” Y/n said as she looked down at the numbers on the paper.
“Do you know his middle name?”
Y/n gasped. “Is it another first name?”
“I believe it’s William.”
“Three names!? It sounds so british.” Y/n chuckled. “Um, seventy seven valtteri, right?” Y/n saw the interviewer nod. “I was getting worried my streak would be broken. And ninety nine, antonio!”
“You got all of them!” Everyone in the room cheered.
“Did anyone else get them all?” Y/n asked.
“Daniel did.”
“Of course. He’s good with numbers.”
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The next clip was from the same grill the grid video but it was a blooper. Lando had arrived right as y/n finished filming and handed her a water bottle.
“Did you get my number?” Lando asked curiously.
“Yeah, ninety five, right? Cause you’re a McQueen fan.” Y/n teased as she grabbed the bottle from lando’s hand.
“Yeah, you remembered!” Lando played along “how did she really do?” He asked.
“She got them all right.”
“Really? I’ve got a smart mother!” Lando high fived the woman.
“It’s because I’ve got a photographic memory.” Y/n nodded with the most serious face on.
“Do you really?” Lando asked. He was surprised to hear that.
“No, I just love to lie.”
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The next clip started with Daniel and Lando standing next to boards with their 2022 rankings. As predicted, Daniel and Lando’s part of the interview was mostly filled with them drawing over each other’s pictures.
Daniel them knocked over Lando’s rankings to the ground. “That’s how I feel.”
“That was the worst timing ever. Y/n is walking this way.” Lando told Daniel, who immediately picked up the board.
“Are those your rankings?” Y/n asked as she approached the duo. She then noticed that the setup and quickly apologized to the camera man. “Sorry, I’m just curious now.”
“Are you proud of me?” Lando asked, standing next to her and throwing his arm over her shoulder.
“When am I not? Wait, except that time you pushed me into my birthday cake.” Y/n pinched his side. “Can I see the pen?” She asked the guys, Lando gave her his.
“She’s adding to our masterpieces. This piece will be worth millions years from now.” Daniel said.
Y/n then scribbled little stars around Lando’s head and then signed it at the top. “Actually you both look great in your pictures. Did they use photoshop?”
“Excuse me, this is all natural.”
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“Y/n! Hi, hello. What’s going on here?” Martin brundle asked the woman as she walked with her mom and pr manager, Lucy.
“Martin! It’s been a while, nothing much. How are you?” Y/n hugged the former racing driver. “This is my mom, she’s been wanting to meet you.”
“Mrs. l/n, hello. Welcome, how are you?” Martin greeted the older woman.
“Great. I’m here supporting my girl. It’s been a wonderful weekend.” Y/n’s mom smiled.
“Are you aware that you have a grandson that drives for McLaren?” Martin asked making all three ladies laugh.
“Yes, Lando is a very lovely young man.”
“How does it feel to have a daughter and grandson in f1?” Martin asked in a serious tone.
“Amazing. I’m super proud of both of them.”
“Thank you ladies for your time. Have a wonderful day.” Martin smiled at them, but before he could leave, y/n gave him a hug goodbye.
“Take care, Martin!” Y/n waved to the man and left with her mom and Lucy.
“She wins everything. Give her all the trophies. Everything is hers.” Martin said to the camera.
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The final clip was consisted of y/n after a race getting interviewed.
“Do you often see your father?” Someone asked from the back.
“No, actually we’re just good friends.”
“What’s your opinion on the president of the United States?” Asked the same person.
“I don’t think about him.”
“What’s going on between max verstappen and lewis hamilton?”
“I don’t know, I just work here.”
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slasherbvnnie · 1 year
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Until We Found You
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Hello! This is my first time ever posting onto here, so please excuse any mistakes or any tags that may be missing. I wanted to write about a poly!ghostface au and age up all the characters and place them into college. I hope this gets at least a few reads!
Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX
Context: Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+
You bit down on the tip of your pencil, chewing the metal part of it as you spaced out for the hundredth time today. A few days ago news broke of one of your best friends being killed, Casey Becker, and like every day since that fateful night, news reporters were swarming the campus. Woodsboro University was famous overnight for it, a crazed killer on the loose in the town and no one knew why Casey and her boyfriend Steve were the victims. What made it truly unnerving was that no one knew if they were going to be the only ones.
It didn’t make you scared, not really at least, you were more intrigued than worried if you were going to be the next person to get a mysterious phone call. No, you spent the next morning with Randy and learned all about what happened. How Steve was found bound to the chair, duct tape and blood practically branded onto him, and how the Beckers found Casey. She was one of your best friends, you couldn’t deny you felt like you needed some therapy for not crying for more than maybe an hour over her, but something in you was more interested in who did it.
That was what was on your mind for the hundredth time today, any of Casey’s boyfriends all the way to fucking pre-k could be a suspect, maybe her family, or maybe it was some random stranger who decided to take their anger out on an unsuspecting teenage girl. Randy and you talked all first period about your suspicions on who it could be, even accusing each other of being the killer, it did fit after all, the two horror buffs who knew every goddamn easter egg in every horror movie there was, it seemed perfect.
“Sidney, can you please tell your friend the answer to at least make it seem like she was listening?” Ms. Crane asked, Sidney nudging you and whispering the answer as the class laughed. “ah, um, phosphorus gas.” You answered, looking at Sidney with wide eyes after you answered. “Phosphine, but I will take that. You guys can pack up, let me take role before you all leave.” Ms. Crane said with a sigh.
“What’s up with you? Are you totally sure you don’t want to go to the grief counselor after school? I mean even Tate went-“ “Sid, I’m fine, seriously. I just, it’s freaky is all. I mean not knowing who did it? What if they have a thing for college chicks, I think we fit into that category very well and-“ “And we will be fine, it was probably just a one-time thing…I mean it's more likely that it is, right?” Sidney asked as she packed her bag, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, if you want you can stay at my place for the week, my dad’s on a trip and I would kinda enjoy the company,” she offered, smiling at you reassuringly. You gave a nod, “yeah, let me just at least spend tonight at my place, my mom will kill me if I miss dinner tonight and take off for a week out of the blue.” “Are you sure you’re really 19 and not 9?” Sidney asked jokingly, earning a laugh from you.
After dinner you had taken a shower, your parents had gone out for the night to take a late-night date- which you theorized was them renting a motel to not risk traumatizing you. You brushed out your hair as you sat down on your vanity chair, putting it into a braid before you went to bed. Your cat was sitting peacefully on your bed, moving every now and then to change her position before darting out of your room. “Irena!” You called after her, scoffing when she didn’t come back to the room. You put your hairbrush down onto your vanity, taking a look in the mirror before getting up from your seat. “I hope you don’t think you are eating even more food, missy, you got fed so much while I was at class today,” you said, acting as if Irena could really understand you. You made your way to your door, nearly walking out before noticing a paper had fallen onto the ground near your desk. You picked it up, reading the headline, Casey Becker and Steve Orth- funerals to be held on Friday the 27th at 9-11 AM. You sighed and set it down on the other papers stacked on your desk.
You walked out of your room, heading downstairs “Irena! Come on, I wanna go to bed,” you whined out, calling the cat to your room. You found her in the living room, hiding under the couch and refusing to come to you. “Fine, I’ll leave you a blanket out and don’t you dare come scratching at my door at 3 AM,” you told her, going to the hallway closet to get a blanket out for her. Once you had gotten one, you spread it out across the couch for her and said goodnight.
You were about halfway to your room when your phone began to buzz, digging it out of your pocket and seeing your mom's number you quickly answered. “Hey, what's up? You guys heading back already,” You asked, continuing up to your room.
“Heading back? Who said I ever left?” A strange voice asked on the other line, making you pause for a moment as you moved to make sure it was your mom. “Listen asshole, I don’t have more than 15 dollars in my bank account so have fun with whatever hot cheetos and mountain dew you can get with that,” you said before hanging up on them, putting your phone back into your pocket. You were up the stairs now, deciding to use the bathroom before you went to bed for the night but before you could open the door your phone rang again. “Didn’t I already say I don’t have money? What the fuck do you want?” You asked angrily, “Irena, right? Like Irena Dubrovna? Who did you prefer, Simone or Natassja?” The same voice asked you, making you look down the stairs. Irena hadn’t moved yet and no one was around her, or at least from what you could see. “If you hurt my fucking cat I will personally cut off your balls and feed them to he-“ A laugh from the caller cut you off, “I don’t have fun with animals. I’m not Bundy or Dahmer, I like to see my victims, human victims…struggle.” You heard your parent's bedroom door open, letting out a scream before running into your room and slamming the door shut, locking it quickly before the person began to bang on it. You looked around, going to your window and trying to lift it open.
The door cracked, it was like the scene from the shining, except this killer bore a white mask, you recognized it from the Halloween store- father death. You struggled with the window again, before giving up and grabbing the lamp from your bedside table and throwing it at them. The killer moved out of the way before they were hit, pushing their body against the door once more and climbing in through the opening. You could see them fiddle with their knife as if they had held it in their hands a hundred times already and were skilled at fidgeting with it.
You grabbed a glass organizer from your desk, taking the scissors from it before chucking the holder at them. The papers you had stacked before scattered from the throw as they fell down. You rushed to the window as they struggled to get up but never heard them stand. When your head whipped around to check if they were behind you, you instead saw them looking at the papers around them.
Masked killer, Casey and Steve headlines, Maureen Prescott, Cotton Weary trials, even the cutouts you had of Sidney from court. You were obsessed. There were drawings, suspects lists, hell all these needed were red kiss marks and ‘please fuck me mr ghostface!’ written in pink glitter pen ink.
You stared wide-eyed at them when you saw their gaze now on you, their head cocked to the side as a laugh sounded from behind the mask. Just then you heard the sound of gravel being crushed around from the driveway, your parent's car was pulling in, you saw them getting out from your window. When you turned back you noticed the person was gone, you ran downstairs and met your parents at the door, crying and beginning to blubber on about what nearly happened. 
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froody · 1 year
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please help my scruggly cat
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Tommy, Tumblr micro-celebrity famous for featuring/being the muse for hit posts such as ‘father is…evil?’ and ‘my cat can tell when I’m sad and instinctively bites my toes’ and ‘frustrating each other is our love language’ needs a little financial support. Please consider donating to my ko-fi or buying something from my teespring store.
Tommy was diagnosed with diabetes earlier this year under dramatic circumstances that involved a week long intensive care vet stay. She has stomatitis (an inflammation of the gums and mucus membranes) that she was on steroids for and the steroids may have damaged her pancreas. Since her diagnosis we’ve had a hard time controlling her blood sugar. Her insulin dose goes up and up. The vet thinks she has a good chance of stabilizing, that diabetic cats can and do live long, healthy and happy lives. She’s only 5. Her 6th birthday is later this month. She’s fighting. She wants to live.
Each insulin vial costs $160. Her prescription cat food is $35 for a 4 pound bag. She’s also on gabapentin for her pain and neuropathy and she’ll probably need another course of antibiotics. She currently goes to the vet every two weeks and the cost of that varies immensely. Basically, she’s a much more expensive cat than she was before and the cost of living for me has risen as well. It’s not an immediate emergency but we need funds. I’m disabled, I have an autoimmune disease that attacks my colon, I have a hard time working outside of the home or even at all because my health fluctuates and my energy levels are low. I’m trying so desperately to get better but for now I’m living in my mom’s house and sponging off my loved ones and tapping into my meager savings.
I know what you’re thinking, the thing people always comment on donation posts about pets, “if you can’t afford to care for your cat, why do you still have your cat?” and as biting as that question is, I know it’s a valid one and I’ve thought about it myself. I still have her because I need her and she needs me. She’s like my soulmate animal. We met when I was 16 and she was about 4 weeks old. There was no way I could have known we’d both be struggling sick moneypits in 5 years. I’m trying to give her the best life I can and she’s trying to give me her best self. I’m her person. I’m home 24/7 so we’re so used to having each other. She brings me immense joy and I know she’s brought a lot of other people joy. If you’re one of those people, please consider giving a couple of dollars. If you can’t afford to, that’s fine. Thank you for reading anyway.
TL;DR: cat sick. I’m sick. please help.
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tonysbed · 3 months
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close friends ||
Charles Leclerc x Famous!reader
Summary: Charles simply wanted to post you on his close friends insta story, which didn’t go as planned..
A/n: I’m obsessed with smau‘s.Bet you couldn’t tell.
This can’t be read as a one shot i think?
Part 1 | Part 2
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Y/ndowney
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Liked by robertdowneyjr, charles_leclerc and 2,389,397 others
Y/ndowney mom and dad btw
robertdowneyjr @/susandowney we just got replaced
taylorswift love you my child!
y/ndowney love you too mom
User27 Cute and all but who’s the second ticket for?
user38 some people claim that charles was with her but there were no pics
user27 oh well:/
user89 I mean he basically confirmed it with his story lol
y/nismywife love them all sm😭
User82 she’s just ignoring all the rumours and goes to the eras tour😭 Queen tbh
Robertdowneyjr
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Liked by y/ndowney, charles_leclerc and 2,839,268 others
robertdowneyjr 56!
User892 THAT IS CHARLES IN THE FAM PICTURE OMG
Y/ndowney old.
robertdowneyjr not to old to ground you
y/ndowney you wouldn’t dare
robertdowneyjr wanna bet?
Chrisevans Happy Birthday Tin man!
robertdowneyjr thanks americas ass 😘
chrisevans 🙄
y/nmywife CHARLES ON THE PIC WJEHEIEV
User290 Tom, charles and y/n. I’m dying😭
Zendaya Congrats 🩷
*liked by robertdowneyjr
leclerc_pascale Happy Birthday!!
robertdowneyjr thank you 😎
user89 now his mom is here. I’m dead.
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Y/ndowney
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Liked by robertdowneyjr, charles_leclerc and 1,381,682 others
Y/ndowney he’s dad approved😙 (and an idiot but don’t tell him i said that)
tagged charles_leclerc
tchalamet call me matchmaker
y/ndowney oh hush chalamet
tchalamet 😘
charles_leclerc Je t'aime mon coeur ❤️
y/ndowney ❤️
robertdowneyjr first decent guy, I swear
Y/ndowney DAD GOD LORD
comments are limited
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Charles_leclerc
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Liked by y/ndowney, robertdowneyjr and 2,729,268 others
Charles_leclerc her mum calls me love, her dad calls me son Xx
tagged y/ndowney
Y/ndowney my dad adopts so many children it’s crazy
charles_leclerc im the best addition
y/ndowney true
tomholland excuse me?!
y/ndowney I’ll always chose him over you duh
tomholland Im deeply hurt.
robertdowneyjr 😎
*liked by charles_leclerc and y/ndowney
leclerc_pascale tu ferais mieux de l'épouser!!
charles_leclerc c'est le plan maman ;)
*liked by leclerc_pascale and y/ndowney
comments are limited
it’s not so long but..yeah:)
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girlokwhatever · 27 days
Note
omg would love if you could do famous!reader x paige hcs!!!
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paige bueckers x famous!reader hcs
‧₊♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧₊˚ෆ paige with a famous gf,,
— you met paige on social media
- she’s literally your biggest fan
- you posted a video with the caption: ‘when she’s blonde and tall and plays basketball’ and it went VIRALLL (everyone tagged her)
— she ending up reaching out to you and the rest is history
— before you started dating she would always repost your videos or pictures whenever you posted
— you kind of dabble in everything (singing, acting, modeling, etc.) and she really respects that about you
- she calls it your ‘hustle’
— you were honestly a fan of hers too, all her tiktoks and edits would be on your feed
— no one even asks who her celeb crush is anymore cause she always says you (lowkey always has)
— you both hard launch each other
— paige loves your music (i’m imagining r&b but you do you boo) and will play it for everyone in any place at any time
- at church?? doesn’t matter: “have you heard my girlfriend’s new song?”
— you took her to her first ever premiere as your plus one
- had way too much fun together during the interviews
— you have to media train her because one time she leaked your new song on kk’s live
— everyone she knows will ask for her to get them an autograph
— her mom is a massive fan and kinda freaks out when she meets you (paige is embarrassed but you think it’s sweet)
— has watched every single film/show you’re in and saves every magazine cover you’re on
— defo gets a little jealous if you have to kiss someone else on screen
- you have to tell her beforehand so she can mentally prepare
— sometimes she’ll get insecure if the media ships you with someone else, but they rarely do it cause everyone knows the two of you are locked in
— she’s absorbed all your fans into her cult
— sometimes she’ll troll everyone and make up the craziest lie/rumor and watch everyone post about it
- “guys we got married last may”
— at first your demanding schedule was a bit of a problem cause you hardly ever saw each other
- you prioritize her more now, but there’s still sometimes where you’ll have to go months without being in-person together (you both have mental breakdowns)
— she always listens when you tell her celeb drama (she’s so into it)
- you make her promise she won’t tell anyone
— you’ve definitely made some songs about her
- they always make her cry cause they’re so beautiful and sweet
— paparazzi anytime the two of you go out (they do catch some cute candid pics though)
— she’ll be at EVERY award show to cheer you on, no doubt
— you get her free tickets to concerts cause of connections
— saves every edit she sees of you (movie scenes, media moments, concerts, you name it)
— sometimes you ask her for inspiration (she’s your muse fr)
— when you see each other again for the first time in awhile… be prepared. she’s bombarding you with kisses, smothering you with hugs, and never lets you leave her bed
— will cry if you ever have to do a sex scene (she prays it never happens)
— she makes sure EVERYONE knows you’re dating.
- she’ll wear shirts with your face on them
— will post the craziest off-guard and bts pictures of you and the fans go craazzzyy
— “so.. how does your next movie end? is it like-“
- “i’m not telling you so don’t even try.”
₊˚ෆ.ೃ࿐༉‧₊˚.𐙚⋆⭒˚。⋆
i feel like maybe i ate this down????!
i had so many ideas for this request you guys
hope you enjoyed!! 😋
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psychedelic-ink · 6 months
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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒
ㅤㅤghostface!mike schmidt x afton daughter!reader
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genre: smut, minors dni, dark content, ghostface au
word count: 4.5k
summary: how were you supposed to know one of your closest friends was also the one in desperate need for revenge?
warnings: dubcon (this can also be considered noncon to some since there's the fear of death in place so if that's not your thing please don't read), knife use, manipulation, voyeurism but no one actually sees, daddy kink, piv, blowjob, nonconsensual somnophilia, male masturbation, reader doesn't know what william did, dirty talking, creampie
a/n: a day late but happy thanksgiving everyone 🖤 i am thankful for my josh hutcherson phase (normally I was going to post this yesterday but oh well you get it)
**dividers made by @saradika xx
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How long has it been since you came here? How long has it been since you witnessed the clean beige exterior that now looked more suffocating than liberating? 
You observe the dust over the picture frames as you drop the suitcases, the sudden release of weight making your back bend back like a bow. You stare for a while. Your dad had bought this particular vacation home ages ago. Ironically he had done it so the family could spend some quality time together over the summers. That was before the incident. Before your mom left, only leaving you and him. 
Now the dirt outside was muddy from the pouring rain. Leaves turning to mush under the pressure of tires and boots. You hear the faint sound of the car door closing. Moments later Mike stands behind you. You can feel his breath tickling the back of your neck. It soothes you. 
“So this is the famous summer house huh?” he looks around, not bothering to close the door behind him, he takes a step further. “God, it’s cold in here. Please tell me there’s a heater somewhere.” 
“Probably in the basement. Remind you this place wasn’t meant for winter.” 
“Yeah I can see that from the windows,” he turns and finally closes the door. “It’s a bit eerie that anyone might just watch us from down there.” 
You scoff, “Who’s gonna watch? This house is the only one. Besides it’s just a couple days.” 
Your dad was finally selling the place. Meaning you had limited time to pack the things you wanted to keep before the rest was torn out. You knew packing all the old pictures would be overwhelming so you asked Mike to join and he was more than eager to help out—which was a bit surprising but you were grateful nonetheless. He was always kind to you. Always so gentle. He made your heart jump whenever he looked into your eyes, observing, searching them for something more. You never knew what he was searching for. 
Mike walks ahead with just his backpack, he’s wearing all black: black hoodie, black pants, black jacket. . . he’s completely contrasting his surroundings. He turns to you with rounded eyes and you melt a little. 
“So where am I staying?” 
“Let me show you,” It’s odd being in the halls again, you remember them feeling endless when you were a kid. The floor underneath you creaks. “Luckily we have a bunch of rooms. I don’t know what my parents were thinking, it’s not like we entertained a lot of guests.” 
“Well, it worked out in the end. Now I have a place to say.” 
“Silver lining,” you agree, showing his room. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to head to bed and we can brainstorm where to start in the morning.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he steps inside the room and you can’t help but be reminded of how out of place he looks. “Good night.” 
“Good night, Mike.” 
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He stands at the door with furrowed brows and downturned lips. Not that it’s important what his expression is. It’s not like anyone can see it underneath his mask. The mask that he’d bought last second. It is now or never. And this is his chance to avenge his brother, his broken family. This is the solution to all of it. 
It doesn’t help that you’re soundly sleeping. Your lips slightly parted, more skin showing with each rise and fall of your chest. Mike takes a step further inside. The wind howls against the naked windows. Yet, your room managed to stay warm. You turn around to lay on your back and he sees you parting your legs underneath the comforter. His cock grows hard at the sight, he’d love to take you right now. Fuck you until you gasp awake, your sweet cunt dripping with arousal—you’d tell him to stop, not recognizing who he is and he’d go on until you’re creaming around him. Your body becoming sweaty and warm. 
Mike licks his lips and rubs a palm over the outline of his cock. His eyes search your room. You hadn’t unpacked yet. Your suitcase open with clothes pouring out the edges. You probably just picked that flimsy shirt you were wearing and headed to bed. He slowly walks to the pile of clothes, within, he finds a pair of black lace underwear. Mike picks it up. A gloved thumb follows the patterns of delicate flowers. His lips curl upward, just what you were planning on doing with him here? In your old family home where it’s just the two of you?
He stands at the edge of your bed. He’s amazed at how much he can get away with without waking you. It’s amazing how much you trust him without a second thought. 
Too bad he doesn’t trust you. 
With your panties, he fists his cock, the fabric catches against the head prompting the jerk of his hips. He strokes himself fast and hard. Precome seeping into the delicate fabric. His eyes are glued to your lips, the pacing of your breath, your body that’s sprawled underneath the sheets. His cock twitches. Balls tightening as he imagines the sounds you would make for him with a knife against your throat and him deep inside your cunt. 
The smallest of groans manage to escape him as he spills into his fist and the fabric, thick ropes of come staining your panties, he inches closer. Hips stuttering helplessly while wishing to see himself dirty your pretty parted lips. He knows he will soon enough. He sees the way you look at him, how desperate you are for affection and a sense of belonging. Mike enjoys the sense of control he has over you. It makes it all that much more sweeter. 
He’ll take you. Break you. And pull you back together again. 
He’ll ruin William Afton’s precious little girl. 
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You’re blessed with a little bit of sun today. Bits of dust sway in the air, boxes upon boxes standing around you and Mike. Two empty coffee cups lay idly on the floor. You slept like a baby last night, which was something you hadn’t expected, yet when you woke up you felt a bit off. Your door was open for starters. And you definitely remember closing it. Mike had just shrugged it off, saying that you were tired and probably forgot. 
Which is likely, now that you think about it. 
Mike picks up one of the framed photos of you and your dad. Despite the sunlight filling the living room, a chill settles over your skin. He observes the photo longer than necessary. Then he traces the engraved name underneath the picture. 
“Afton,” he murmurs. “I keep forgetting you’re an Afton.” 
He doesn’t let go of the picture as his eyes meet yours, you don’t like the look in them. He almost seems angry. 
“What does it matter?” you say in a sheer tone. “It’s not like it means anything whether I’m an Afton or not.” 
“I’d beg the differ. And I know some other people would too.” 
Mike places the photo in a box, eyes dropping to the floor. Heat rises to your cheeks. You’re confused. Very confused. “Are talking about Freddy Fazbear’s? You know I don’t like talking about that Mike.” 
“No need to get defensive. I’m just saying that your surname isn’t nothing,” he gives you a small smile but it does little to calm your nerves. “You were never suspicious of him?” 
“Of what?” 
He gives you a blank stare, “Of the murders.” 
Your mouth opens and very promptly snaps shut. Mike was never interested in this before. He hadn’t even asked about it, not once. Your shoulders drop and your heart feels heavy in your chest—Were you ever suspicious of him? Of your own father? To be fair you never thought about it. You shut your eyes and plugged your ears. You never wanted to think about that wretched pizzeria and all the things that happened in it. 
Your stomach jumps when he reaches out, curling his palm over the slope of your knee. You release a long breath. 
“Sorry for bringing it up,” he says, his eyes now soft. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” 
“That’s okay.” It wasn’t. You get up, feeling the weight of his gaze as you do. “Alright, I think I’m gonna take a brisk shower then we can make pasta or something.” 
“I can start on that,” he answers. “Pesto or marinara?” 
“You can pick. I’m fine with either.” 
He nods and you leave before he stands. You feel icky all over. The dust and the sudden reality check about your father’s pizzeria and his role in all that had happened make you desperate to scrub yourself clean. 
You swiftly enter the bathroom, shutting the door behind you, giving it a hard shove until you hear the satisfying click. The inside smells of lavender. 
You strip and throw your clothes into the washing machine. The water warms up easily when you step inside. You draw the curtain shut and sigh at the clean water caressing your skin. Warm showers are the solution to everything. Even daddy issues. You begin to wash your hair, a soft moan dropping from your lips as you massage your scalp. The water trickles down your neck and between your breasts. With soapy hands, you give yourself a firm squeeze and graze your thumbs over the pebbled nipples. 
“That’s nice,” you sigh, hands moving up to rinse your hair. Maybe after the shower you can lay down and treat yourself until lunch is ready. Your vibrator’s fully charged, and the prospect of Mike hearing the faint buzz of it makes your pussy throb. 
Just as you reach for the loofah a soft click echoes in the steamy room. 
Your body tenses. Your heart suddenly beating a mile a minute. 
Your eyes turn in the direction of the door but you can’t see well with the curtain. All you see is the blurry darkness of the hall thanks to the open entrance. “Mike?” you call out, voice trembling. “If that’s you it’s not funny.” 
Of course, it’s not him. Even from here, you can smell the pasta sauce. Pesto. You desperately search for any kind of weapon you can use but all you see are shampoo bottles and the loofah you’re currently holding. You swallow. Turning back to the curtain, you see a faint shadow. It tilts its head. 
You need to attack. Need to do something before they do. How did they even get in here? 
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. 
But you’re frozen with fear as the stranger curls their fingers around the shower curtain. The rest happens suddenly. The curtain is ripped open and you see who it is—Mostly. You see the mask, two pitch-black eyes staring back at you. Instead of screaming you jump away, the porcelain slips from underneath you, you fall and as soon as you do, you’re swallowed by darkness. 
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Your eyes flutter open. There’s a sharp sting against your forehead. 
“Thank god you’re awake.” 
“M—Mike?” 
Your vision stops shaking and you finally see him. Mike, and his two soft brown eyes staring down at you. He’s holding a ball of cotton, the white stained by a bit of red. “What. . .” You attempt to get up but quickly forgo your decision when your head throbs. Mike clicks his tongue and presses the cotton to your head, your eyes tear up as it stings, but it slightly subsides seconds later. Looking down, you notice a towel was thrown over you. 
“I should be asking you that, how the hell did you slip?” 
“I. . . I didn’t.” 
“What do you mean you didn’t?” 
“There. . there was someone in the shower,” Your blood freezes as you remember. “He. . .I think it was a he? He was wearing a mask and he opened the curtain and fuck—I was so scared Mike.” 
Your arms move on their own and wrap around his neck, pulling him close. It takes him only a second to mimic your movement, wrapping his arms around your cold shivering body. His fingers trace your spine. A pleasant shiver runs up your back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now,” he murmurs. “But. . . the door was closed.” 
What? “What?” You shake your head as you pull away from him, ignoring the towel slightly sliding lower. “There’s no way. How did you see me then?” 
“Well, I shouted for you but you didn’t respond. Then I knocked and you didn’t respond again. The door wasn’t locked so I let myself in.” 
“And you found me unconscious? No one was here?” 
“Only you.” 
You shudder. That’s absolutely terrifying. 
“Come on let’s. . .” he swallows and you notice his eyes lingering where your towel has fallen. The swell of your breasts exposed. Looking away, you pull the fabric up and properly wrap it around yourself. His eyes move up to meet your gaze. “Let’s get you dressed and then we can eat.” 
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Your last night here. Finally. 
After the unfortunate fall in the shower, you never managed to shake the feeling of being watched in your own house. You didn’t say anything to Mike but you knew he saw how freaked out you were from your eyes, by the way you would jump at every sound. Every time you closed your eyes you saw the stranger’s mask—those damn black sockets and open mouth staring back at you. It didn’t help that every morning you found your door wide open. You could’ve sworn that you closed it. But without fail, the door was open in the morning. 
And you’re so grateful to be done with it all. 
Stacks of boxes stand tall near the door. You were adamant about having everything ready tonight so that as soon as the sun peaked through the two of you could leave. Which was why you had ordered Mike to pack his suitcase— you’re doing the same, folding clothes with shaky hands and hoping the morning would come faster. 
Throwing your shirt into the suitcase your brows furrow, “What the hell?” you murmur as you lower yourself to your knees. The drawers and closet are emptied out, so why the hell do you only have three pairs of underwear? 
Sweat beads at your forehead. With panic, you rummage through the neatly folded clothes. You don’t care about the mess or the fact that you’ll have to fold them again—why can’t you find the other pairs? 
You’re completely defeated as your entire body deflates. Just three. You remember packing ten. They’re gone. All gone. Stolen. 
Your heart lurches and you feel it beating in your throat. You want to leave. You want to leave. You want to leave. 
The phone rings. 
It’s loud and booming. Your eyes shot towards the hallway. It’s the landline. A phone that hadn’t been used for god knows how long. You weren’t even aware that it was still connected. 
You blink rapidly, forcing the sting of tears to fade. You stand on shaky legs as you head towards the phone in the living room. You vaguely hear Mike mumbling a melody that’s familiar but also not at the same time. 
You stare at your reflection in the widows as you pick up the phone. Normally you’d appreciate the view. The dark sky, the swaying pine trees. But not today. 
You clear your throat, “H—Hello?” 
You hear a faint static, a low internal breathing, then the silence talks back, saying your name. You shudder at the rasp in his voice, fear weighing you down and gluing you to the floor. “Who is this?” you ask. 
“You know who I am,” he murmurs and takes a deep inhale. “We’ve met before remember? That moment in the bathroom.” Your body freezes all over, he chuckles, then speaks as if reminiscing a fond memory. “You looked so amazing. Nipples hard, body wet. Were you touching yourself?” 
You remain silent, eyes glued to the hall that is lit by Mike’s room. You want to call out. You really do. But you’re terrified. 
“Was it him you were thinking about?” 
“That’s. . .” you swallow. “That’s none of your business.” 
“Everything you do is my business,” he snaps but then the harsh baritone of his voice quickly softens. “Fine. Don’t. I know the answer anyway.” 
“What do you want?” 
“I want the truth, Miss Afton.” Your breath catches, your knees begin to shake. “Just answer my question and maybe you won’t die.” 
You remain silent and you hear the smile in his voice, “Good girl. Now, do you know your father is a murderous piece of trash? Yes or no?” 
You close your eyes, shake your head, you can’t answer. “Fine,” he huffs. “Do you think you deserve to live?” 
“I. . .” Your mouth goes dry and your fingers tighten around the phone. “I do.” 
Honestly, you’re not sure if you believe that. 
“Oh, I’m sorry but that’s just not correct,” he answers with a melodic lilt. “You don’t deserve anything. Why should your life matter more than the other kids that were killed by your father?” 
“It shouldn’t.” 
Your voice barely comes out in a whisper now. Your eyes drop to the floor, maybe if you run and get to Mike in time you can save you both? 
“Is your dad a killer yes or no?” then he adds. “You better answer correctly this time.” 
“I don’t know,” you say this time, he clicks his tongue in annoyance. 
“Wrong.” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath you open them again. All you see is your reflection. “I’ve been watching you,” he says. “You sleep like a log. I watched you. Fucked my fist while you were sleeping soundly, dreaming of sunshine and rainbows,” he sighs. “Or whatever the fuck girls like you dream about.”
You’re appalled by the sudden gush of wetness that courses through you. You shake your head, trying to push the images away. “Please don’t do this,” you beg. 
He stops speaking for a good while, for a second you think he hung up, but then you hear his breath in your ear and know that he’s still there. “I keep forgetting.” 
“Forgetting what?” 
“That you’re an Afton.” 
Your heart drops to the pits of your stomach. Every fiber of skin burning and tingling with the realization. You’ve heard those words before. You’ve heard the hidden accusation in them. Your ear burns from the phone pressed against it, you press it harder, not wanting to miss a second of dialogue. Your lips brush against the plastic as you do. 
“Mike?”
The line goes dead. Silent. And you realize you preferred words coming from the other line. Tortorously slow, as if in a dream, you place the phone back in its cradle. You feel him before you see him. Your head turns. You feel every muscle pulling as you do. 
And there he is. 
The man with the mask. 
“Mike?” you say again with less conviction. He tilts his head, not moving, not saying anything. Your body stiffens and your eyes drop to his hands where you see the sharp edge of a knife. You drag your gaze back to the mask, hoping that you’re staring into his eyes, “Why?” 
He takes a step forward and you take a step back. You’re inches away from the wide windows. “I had a brother,” he says, you’re surprised to find yourself relaxing upon hearing his voice. “I’ve tracked down the suspects. Looked at similar cases for years. Every bit of information leads to Afton.” 
“I had nothing to do with it.” 
Another step. The glass is cool underneath your palms. 
“You father did,” he answers. He stands only an inch away now, your stomach jumps when he presses the sharp edge of the knife against your neck. You hold your breath. “The day he took him is the day I lost everything. My family shattered. All because of him. And now. . .” Mike presses the knife harder, a hint of pain blossoming from where he’d cut. Your eyes snap shut. “Now I’ll take his little girl. Eye for an eye.” 
“Mike, please,” you whisper. Then you say something that surprises you both. “Take off the mask. If I’m going to die, I want to see you.” 
He tenses but obliges anyway. The mask falls to the floor, his hair mussed, soft curls fall over his forehead. A bit of stubble on his chin from not shaving at all since you two arrived. He doesn’t look scary, not at all. He looks vengeful, yes, but the softness in his eyes is still there. 
“What are you going to do to me?” 
Mike’s nostrils flare as he inhales, he exhales through parts lips, you feel his warm breath on your skin. “I’m going to ruin you.” The knife is replaced with his hand, he squeezes your throat, pulls you away from the glass, and slams you into it. “You’re mine now. I own you.” 
You shudder as he lets you go, his hands fumble with his jeans, and the fabric pools at his ankles. “Get on your knees and suck daddy’s cock.” 
You stare at him, wide-eyed but do as you’re told anyway. You drop to your knees. His cock achingly hard in front of you. He holds himself and drags the wet tip across your lips. He slides the underside of his cock against your face and without thought you dart your tongue out, tasting him. Mike groans, the sound rattling in his chest. With no warning given, he slips his cock between your lips and stops halfway. Your eyes water at how thick he is. 
When you look up you see he’s holding his phone, camera directed at you with his cock in your mouth. “Sorry,” he says with a faint smirk. “I need a souvenir to remember how good you look with my cock in your mouth. Who knew Afton’s precious daughter was such a slut.” 
Your eyes flutter as he shoves the phone back into his jacket pocket. He cradles your head and starts fucking himself deep into your mouth. “You know,” he rasps. Mike pushes himself especially deep and smiles broadly when you choke around him. “You really should be thanking me for not slitting your throat during all the nights I watched you.” 
He suddenly stops and pulls out until it’s only the head between your lips. His cock throbs on your tongue, he forces your gaze up to him, “Thank me for not slitting your throat.” 
“Thank—” It’s hard to speak with him still between your lips. You swallow and try again, your nipples tight. “Thank you for not slitting my throat.” 
“Such an obedient girl,” he muses. “I’m going to fuck you in every corner of this house. Get up—” 
He says that but lifts you himself, impatient, he presses you against the window, your cheek smushed against the clear surface. Your neck strains a little. His breath caresses the back of your neck, his lips on your ear, “Time to pay for your father’s sins.”
Mike lifts your shirt and pulls down your sweats. His cock lays heavy above the small of your back. Warm and wet. You clench as he pushes you forward, your breasts fully pressed against the glass. He kicks your legs apart, holding your arms back, Mike slips inside you with ease. Your breath halts in your throat. You only feel pleasure. You drip down his length, and with a groan, he buries himself to the hilt. 
“I knew you’d been waiting for this,” he groans. “So fucking wet—” 
“M—Mike—” 
He clicks his tongue and cocks his head to the side, his forehead brushing against the back of your head. “Not Mike.” 
“Daddy,” you moan as he pulls out and slams back in. You choke. “Daddy—” 
Mike fucks into your harder, the sound of skin against skin echoes in the room, wet squelches following. Your knees shake as you find yourself completely immobile against the glass. His fingers curl around your neck and he yanks your head back, hips relentless. 
“Look at that, anyone could see you now. I wish we had an audience.” Your cunt squeezes him like a vice, his hips stutter forward, a sharp moan rattling in his throat. He laughs. “Does that turn you on?” Helpless, you nod. “That’s it, take it. Daddy’s whore.” 
“Kiss me—please—” 
The plea takes him by surprise, he stops, hand tensing around your neck, you feel the pulse of his cock deep inside you. He drags his hips down your neck and teases you with his teeth. Goosebumps rise over your skin. And finally—finally—those perfect plush lips meet your own. It’s cruel really. The red strings of fate that tie you two together. You’re still not sure what to make of it all. Or of him. But you surrender. You surrender to his mouth and tongue. Mike swallows you whole. His tongue moves lavishly over yours, sliding and sucking as he presses harder inside you. 
“Gonna come inside,” he breathes into your mouth. His hand drops between your legs, your body shaking as he draws tight circles around your clit. 
Mike’s lips meet your throat, gentle then ravenous, making their way to the blankets of your clavicle, scraping the delicate skin. You arch against him, pleasure building, craving more. He thrusts harder, deeper, the pleasure increasing with each movement. His fingers grab your hips, and you can feel yourself tightening around him, his cock slamming against your core inside of you. Obscene sounds come from where he’s playing with your clit. You feel like a rag doll. And soon the coil snaps, you’re falling. 
Your entire body goes tense, his name leaving your lips in an urgent plea as the pleasure overtakes you. You shake and tremble, Mike continues to hammer into you, hand leaving your core and bracing itself near your head. Briefly, you manage to look outside. See the darkness that looms over the forest. Then you notice his reflection in the glass, eyes meeting yours. 
He smiles. 
Mike moans loudly, lips parting, his hips stutter over and over, spilling himself inside. Your eyes roll back, a whimper falling from your mouth as you take all of it. He holds himself there until his come starts to drip from where he stretches you. Your forehead finds purchase on the glass. Cold and soothing. His lips brush the back of your neck. 
“You look so tired already but we’re not done yet,” he parts your lips with his fingers and pushes them inside. Teary, you find his eyes in the reflection once more. He’s pleased. “I was serious in what I said, Miss Afton. I own you, now.” 
“Mike. . .” 
“And no matter where you run off to,” he murmurs, cutting you off. A hint of annoyance in using his name.  “I’ll always come back.”
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enha-stars · 3 months
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✧ Invisible String — Soulmate AU
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Pairing: non-idol!jay x fem!reader (fluff)
Summary: In a world where Soulmates exist, you never truly cared about the phenomenon. It would happen, and you would have no control over it. But when you visit your aunt in the winter, you realize that having a Soulmate isn’t so bad. Not when he’s so perfect for you.
Warnings: mentions of alcohol, kissing, some swearing, suggestive, fluff, the smallest amount of angst if you squint (wc: 9.2k)
Soulmate Masterlist
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The cold February air hugs you tight, kissing your cheeks softly as it paints your face cold. If you had known that it would be this chilly, you would have dressed warmer. 
But you didn’t know, because no one told you. 
It was a surprise trip your parents had planned, wanting to take a break from your mundane, ordinary lives. So they packed up the car and drove two hours south, stopping only when they reached your aunt’s driveway. 
Now, you were waiting on the sidewalk for your cousin. She had run in to grab her purse. Unconsciously, you rubbed the small J on your right wrist. Although you didn’t necessarily care for your Soulmate as much as everyone else did, you still found it slightly comforting.
Knowing he was out there. 
“Sorry!” Your cousin tumbled out of the front door, heaving. “Sorry. Your mom kept handing me money and my mom kept telling me not to take it.” She looked up at you, flushed and smiling. 
You grinned, knowing exactly what she was talking about. Both your mothers, being sisters, often did things like this. It was funny to everyone else, but serious for them. You usually waited them out, knowing there was no point until they gave up. 
You waved your hand in dismissal, instantly dropping it. “Let’s go?” Your cousin had pitched the idea of going to the famous, local music restaurant and you jumped at the idea. You really couldn’t stand another family game night. 
You strolled down the road side by side as she caught you up on everything. You really did miss her. Being the same age, she always understood you. She knew of your impassiveness and you knew of her obsession. 
“Guess who found their Soulmate,” she asked you, her eyes wide. You laughed before you bit your lip in thought. You knew most of her friends, having grown up alongside her before your family moved. 
You shrugged, opting for her to just tell you. “No idea. Who is it?” 
She clapped her hands. “Heeseung!” At your raised eyebrows, she laughed. “I know, right? He went out with his parents last week and she was the hostess there. They’re actually really cute.” 
You nodded in surprise, a warm surge of something in your chest. It always happened when you heard of others finding their Soulmate. “That’s amazing. I’m happy for them. He was looking, right?”
She nodded. “Yeah. He kinda gave up but I guess fate had other plans.” She eyed you before glancing at your wrist, the one you were still rubbing. 
“What about you?” She tried to keep the intrigue out of her voice but you could see it in her eyes. She really wanted you to find your Soulmate, but you weren’t necessarily eager. She had found her Soulmate as soon as she turned eighteen, having been friends with him for years. 
You shrugged before dropping your wrist. “You know me. I’m not looking. If he finds me then I guess that’s it.”
She frowned, pursing her lips. “Y/n, you don’t have to sound so… defeated about it. It’s a good thing. It’s a beautiful thing.” She rubbed her wrist, the red S glowing. Before, she used to be very adamant about finding your Soulmate. But when you explained to her that not everyone grows up with their Soulmate, she understood. She was extremely lucky. 
You rolled your eyes, having heard this conversation many times before. “I know. It’s just… it makes me uncomfortable, you know? I’m just supposed to trust that this man is perfect for me?”
Your cousin nodded in understanding, because she did understand. You had always been the one who asked questions and wanted to remain independent. A lot of people were like you. It was hard to comprehend that the universe created two people perfect for each other. 
“Just,” she sighed as you neared the restaurant, “don’t push it away, okay? Don’t run from it. From what I’ve seen and gone through, it’s a really beautiful process. It’s like breathing for the first time.”
You nodded, opening the door for her. “I’m not against it. I’m just not super for it either. I’m just… indifferent. Yeah,” you smiled. “Indifferent.” 
She laughed before fixing her coat. She had texted her friends to meet at the restaurant and you were excited. You liked all her friends and some of them were really good singers and attractive. It had been a while since you had seen them, years for some, and you knew you would have a good time with them. You always did. 
Walking into the restaurant, you inhaled the sweet scent of wood and whiskey. Your eyes wandered, taking in the cabin-like furniture of the establishment before glancing at the bar, then at the stage. A band played their music while people sat and listened, some singing along and some just enjoying the atmosphere. This was your first time here since you became an adult, and you now understood why everyone loved it. It was just up your alley, dark and comfortable. 
Your cousin grabbed your hand and pulled you towards her friends, smiling and waving at them. You laughed at her excitement. She was more excited for you to see them than she was. She immediately made her way to Sunghoon, kissing him passionately. The day they had both turned eighteen changed everything. The only reason you had high expectations was because of them. 
They were truly perfect for each other. 
All her friends waved and greeted you both loudly, smiling. “You guys made it!” You smiled at Heeseung, having known him for years. He smiled at you before side-hugging you. He looked good. His eyes shined brighter and he had a permanent smile etched onto his lips. He patted your back before bear hugging your cousin. 
You greeted everyone else, hugging those you were close with and smiling at those you weren’t. Some faces you recognized; Jake and Jungwon. They greeted you warmly, glad you had come tonight. 
There was a man you didn’t recognize and you smiled at him as he introduced himself. “I’m Sunoo. It’s nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot about you.” 
You laughed, finding him adorable. He had bright eyes and his black hair fell to his eyes. “Only good things, I hope.”
Sunghoon threw his arm around Sunoo and grinned at you, his fangs making an appearance. “Now, Y/n, you know that’s impossible.”
You grinned before slapping his shoulder. “I’m not completely terrible.” 
“Yeah,” he smiled. “Say that to the hole in my wall.”
At his words, your eyes widened and your mouth dropped to the floor. Sunoo laughed in disbelief, slapping Sunghoo’s chest. “She’s the one who put the hole in your wall?” 
Sunghoon nodded, not looking displeased about it at all. In fact, he looked elated. 
You grimaced. “I can’t believe you haven’t gotten that fixed yet. It’s been years.”
“It’s been one.”
You threw your hands up in shame, a sheepish smile on your face. “Okay, true. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know your walls were so weak.” 
Sunoo stared at you both, back and forth before shaking his head. “I’m sorry, what happened?”
You dropped your head when Heeseung threw his arm around you, grinning. “Are we talking about Y/n’s famous misadventures?” 
You shook your head as Sunoo and Sunghoon nodded. You hid your face in your hands as Heeseung and Sunghoon told Sunoo the story of you trying to do a handstand in his basement when you fell over, your foot crashing into the wall, making a hole in the center of the wall. 
You sighed and dropped your head back as the three laughed, a slow smile creeping onto your face at the sound. It was nice, being surrounded by jazz music and the laughter of your friends.
At the sound of laughter, your cousin, Jake, and Jungwon make their way over to you. You smiled at them as the other three lost their mind, howling over other mishaps you kept finding yourself in. You truly had a knack of getting into weird situations when you were in this town. 
“I’ll fix that hole in your wall for you,” you said. Sunghoon raised an eyebrow at you as his laughter turned into heavy breathing. “I’m serious. I know how.”
Your cousin nodded, resting her hand on your shoulder. She was so happy you were here with her, with her friends. With your friends. “She’s really good,” she agreed. “Y/n fixes up both our houses.” She narrows her eyes at Sunghoon and he crumbles.
Sunghoon crosses his arms. “Alright. How much?”
You shook your head. “Never bring up that story again?”
Jake laughed. “But it’s such a good story. One of our favourites, actually.”
Before you could answer, Jungwon smiled. “I’m sure we’ll have more stories to tell about Y/n before this week is over.”
At your deadpan look, Jungwon and Jake laughed before you all found your seats at the table. “I’m never coming back here. There’s a reason we moved and it’s because of all of you.” At your pout, Sunghoon pats your head. You allowed it only because of your cousin and the way she smiled up at him, all foolish and in love. 
“Alright, Y/n. If you fix the hole in my wall, I’ll never bring up the story again.” You both stared at each other before shaking on it. 
“By the way,” Heeseung said. “This deal only applies to Sunghoon.”
You smiled at Heeseung. “Die.”
He laughed before checking his phone. A stupid smile took over and you had a feeling that his Soulmate had texted him. You glanced at his wrist and stared at the red letter. That’s what happened when you found your soulmate and touched them for the first time. The black letter turned red and remained red. 
“Where’s Jay and Riki?” Your cousin asked Heeseung, passing a glass of water to you. You didn’t know who Jay or Riki were, but you assumed they would make an appearance before the end of the night. 
“Riki’s at practice and asked Jay to stay with him. They’ll be here soon.”
Your cousin nodded before leaning into you. “What do you wanna eat? I was thinking of onion rings.” You scanned the menu. “Hm. What about calamari?” Your cousin nodded, knowing you both were going to share, regardless. 
After the orders of food and drinks had been placed, Jake leaned back in his seat. “So, what’s up, Y/n? What have you been up to? It’s been what, a few months?”
You nodded, sipping on your water as the conversations picked up around you. “Yeah. It’s been a while. I’m good! Just finishing up school and working. Honestly, my life is pretty boring right now.” 
Jake and Sunoo nodded in understanding. Jake glanced at your wrist before smirking. “So, any news on the Soulmate?”
You rolled your eyes and showed him your wrist, your black letter on clear display. “Nope.” You eyed their wrists. “What about you guys?”
Jake and Sunoo both showed their wrists, their black letters vibrant against their fair skin. You watched as Jake lowered his wrist but Sunoo stared at his own, a twisted frown on his pink lips. He traced the letter once before dropping his wrist, staring at his water. 
You wanted to ask but you only met him today. When it came to Soulmates, some were more sensitive than others. It was a centuries old phenomenon but it never got easier to accept. You had an inkling that Sunoo was more sensitive than others. Instead, you smiled at him when he caught your eye. 
You tuned into the other conversation happening at the table and instantly sat straighter. Heeseung was recounting the night he met his Soulmate and you listened carefully. Although it happened all the time around you, the stories always made you melt. The ice beneath your exterior slowly breaking. 
“And then I touched her hand. I just brushed her hand but my entire body was on fire. Then our marks began to burn and they turned red. After that, well, we didn’t talk much.” He grinned, a twinkle in his eye. Everyone laughed and your cousin shoved his shoulder, mumbling about having decorum. 
Only to have Sunghoon raise his eyebrow at his Soulmate, smirking. “We didn’t do much talking either, babe.” You wanted to gag just for the sake of it. 
“Did the burning hurt?” You furrowed your eyebrows. It was always different with certain people. Sometimes it burned in a cool, tingly way and sometimes it burned the way warm water on a cold day burned. For your cousin, she said it felt like a bucket of cold water had poured over her on a hot day. 
Heeseung shook his head, taking a sip of his beer. “Not at all. It burned the way an itch that you’ve finally scratched burns. It was like relief settled in my bones.”
The other listened carefully, despite having heard all of this before. Heeseung was lucky because he was young. Your letter appeared when you turned eighteen, and many people spent all their twenties finding their Soulmates. Now, he was the third person in their friend group to have found their lover. 
“And where is she?” Your cousin asked, shoving a piece of calamari in her mouth. Sunghoon smiled fondly at her, his hand resting on her thigh. They sat pressed together and you almost wondered why she wasn’t sitting on his lap but chose to ignore that thought. 
“She’s working tonight. Begged her to take the night off but it was too late.” His eyes were saddened but then he was smiling. “I’m seeing her later tonight.” 
The rest of the night was spent drinking and talking, with the occasional performance by Heeseung and Jake. The night was filled with warmth; constant laughter and conversation flowed with the help of drinks and snacks. Your cheeks felt warm and your stomach was full. This was the most fun you had in a while and you were so thankful. 
As it neared midnight, you stood from your seat, blinking the haze from your eyes. Your cousin and Sunghoon, along with Heeseung and his Soulmate, had been on the makeshift dance floor for a while. All the couples swayed to the music, carelessly in love. You had spent the better part of your evening with Jake, Jungwon, and Sunoo. They made amazing company and you couldn’t stop laughing. You stumbled and Jake reached out, steadying you. You smiled at him before walking towards the dance floor.
You nudged Sunghoon’s shoulder and grinned at him when he raised an eyebrow at you. You stared at him before you slapped his forehead. Your mind was a bit fuzzy from all the music and the ambiance. “Can I have her back? We should get home.”
Sunghoon groaned into your cousin’s hair, refusing to stop swaying. Your cousin laughed before pulling away from him, kissing his cheek. “She’s right, baby. We gotta go.” 
Heeseung caught your eye and waved at you, blowing you an exaggerated kiss and his Soulmate smiled at you before they went back to dancing.
Sunghoon sighed before nodding, he flicked your forehead before pulling you both back to the table. You said your goodbyes, kissing and hugging the boys. Jake ruffled your hair before making you promise to hangout with them again. Jungwon kissed your cheek and told you to let him know when you planned to fix Sunghoon’s wall. Sunoo hugged you and asked for your number. Your cousin promised to make another group chat, one with everyone. You smiled at Riki, finding the teenager adorable. You met him today but you already loved him. He grinned at you, giving you a thumbs-up. 
Sunghoon drove you both back home, mumbling about curfews and the time. You barely listened as you sat in the back, staring out the window. It had been a good day. A really good day.  
Parking in your driveway, you stepped out of the car, blowing Sunghoon a kiss and flipping him off. You chose to ignore the makeout session as you stepped into your aunt’s home, hoping everyone was asleep. 
They were.
After a few minutes, your cousin stumbled through the front door, frowning at the ledge she always tripped over. You both giggled before trying to quietly make your way to her bedroom. 
You both passed out side by side, makeup only wiped off and clothes thrown aside. It will be a good week. 
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Jay slowly opened the basement door with his foot, balancing the tray carefully on his left hand as he adjusted his sweater with his right hand. He thought this was all unnecessary but Heeseung insisted, and well, he had a hard time refusing him. 
Heeseung had chastised Jay for skipping the other night instead of showing up with Riki. The younger boy, while only allowed on one side of the restaurant, showed up despite being exhausted. Jay had no excuse besides not being in the mood. So, here he was. Holding a tray full of all their favourite finger foods because he was pathetic. 
Sighing, he slowly walked down the stairs. He had told Sunghoon so many times to let him add carpet to the stairs but he always refused. Something about authenticity and aesthetic. Jay could hear their chatter and his small frown curled upwards. Despite his sighing, he was happy. It was cold out today but the sun shone brightly and all his friends were together. 
As soon as Jay stepped onto the cold basement floor, he wrinkled his nose in disgust. He told Riki and Jungwon to help Sunghoon cleanup but it didn’t seem like they did. The faint smell of Chinese food lingered in the air and he sighed. He’d have to open a window. 
Jake spotted him first and threw his head back in relief, his hand on his stomach. “Thank god, man. I’m starving.” 
Jay raised an eyebrow as he set the tray down on Sunghoon’s only table. “You’re always starving, Jake.” 
Jake only shrugged before jumping up, walking to the tray without a care. Heeseung laughed at him and Sunoo swatted Jake’s bottom as he passed. Sunghoon lifted his eyes from his phone before frowning at Jake. “Don’t spill any crumbs.”
They all watched as Jake chomped down on a slider, crumbs falling on the floor. Sunghoon sighed in exasperation as Jungwon laughed. There were truly some habits that could not be helped. Jay sank down on the empty bean bag next to Riki and stretched his legs. He unconsciously rubbed his wrist, his finger tracing the black letter. 
“Jay,” Heeseung called. Jay lifted his head and looked at Heeseung. “You honestly should have showed up the other night.” Jungwon and Sunoo nodded in agreement, snacking on the plates Jake made them. Heeseung thanked Jake before looking back at Jay. “You would have loved Y/n.”
Jay had been hearing your name quite frequently the past couple of days. You were Sunghoon’s Soulmate’s cousin, someone who left town a few months before he came. He had heard your name a few times over the years, somehow always missing you. Every time you were in town, he was preoccupied. To him, you existed in the fantastical stories that Sunghoon and Jake told him. 
He glanced at the hole in the wall next to him, grinning at the story Sunghoon loved to tell. He almost wanted to punch the wall to see how weak the drywall truly was, but he respected himself too much to go through with it. 
“My bad, Hyung,” Jay ran his hand through his hair. “I was honestly exhausted and would not have made good company. Let’s plan something else in a few days.” 
Heeseung nodded, going back to playing the game with Jake. Soft music played as everyone lounged around, basking in the quietness of the afternoon. They didn’t get many moments like this. Not with everyone’s hectic schedule. 
“When is Y/n coming over to fix the wall, Hyung?” Riki asked Sunghoon, controller in his hands and crackers in his mouth. Jay slowly turned his head to Sunghoon, eyebrows raised and lips parted. 
Sunghoon pursed his lips. “I think after six? That’s what she said yesterday.” 
“What?” Jay stared at Sunghoon, mouth agape. “I’ve asked you for months to let me fix that hole! And you’re letting Y/n do it?” 
Sunghoon shrugged. “Yeah. She asked.” At Jay’s unimpressed look, Sunghoon smiled. “Plus, the missus told me to.” At his confession, Jay dropped his shoulders. There was nothing to argue if Soulmates were involved. 
Still, he frowned. He could be a bit annoyed by it. He knew he could have fixed the hole in less than thirty minutes, but Sunghoon never let him. He said it was funnier, and it was a nice reminder, but Jay simply thought he was crazy. 
“Y/n was nice,” Sunoo mused. Jay shifted his eyes from the screen to him, listening. “She’d never met me and tried her best to engage me in conversation. Plus,” he smiled, “she didn’t even ask about my Soulmate.”
Jay raised an eyebrow at Sunoo’s words, slightly impressed. Sunoo wasn’t the most subtle when it came to his feelings, so he often got many questions. Jay was just glad his friend was comfortable and had a good time. 
“You guys should have seen her last year,” Heeseung laughed. “Before the wall incident, she figured out a way onto my roof. It was the craziest thing I had ever seen. One second we’re all in my garage and then she’s on the roof.” 
Jake and Jungwon burst into laughter, clearly remembering the incident like it happened yesterday. Sunghoon grinned at his phone as he typed away, and Sunoo smiled at what Jay could only assume was his imagination, trying to picture it. 
Riki pouted at the television. “I wish I got to see that,” he mumbled. 
“Yeah,” Sunghoon nodded, still primarily focused on his phone. “She’s a good one. She’s not super into the whole Soulmate thing, though.” 
Jay’s eyes widened a fraction before he bit into a cracker. He didn’t know many people who weren’t absolutely smitten with the idea of Soulmates. Although he knew it was inevitable, he couldn’t help but feel a bit insecure about it. He didn’t even know who he was, so how could the universe make someone for him? Who could truly stand him and his flaws? Who could look at him and decide they loved him anyways? 
Jungwon nodded, munching away. “Yeah, she mentioned it the other night. It’s kind of interesting, actually.” He looked at Jay. “She thinks like you.”
Jay rolled his eyes, snorting. “Oh, so she has common sense?” He dodged the pillow Heeseung threw at him and grinned before looking back at Jungwon. “Anyone with common sense would find it a bit weird.” 
Immediately, the other six boys in the room shook their heads. They were used to Jay’s rambling and thoughts. In retrospect, they could understand where he was coming from. Jay had grown up relatively lonely, and so he learned to be independent and capable very early on. 
Jokingly, Jungwon had joked about Jay and Y/n being Soulmates to Heeseung. The older boy only slapped his shoulder and shook his head. He knew neither party would appreciate the joke.
“Everyone knows you’re a romantic at heart, Jay.” Jake wiggled his eyebrows. “You can drop the tough boy exterior. We won’t tell anyone.”
Jay laughed before throwing the pillow at Jake, hitting him right in the chest. He grinned at Jake’s baffled expression before dropping his shoulders. “Shut up.” 
The boys laughed. As much as they liked to tease Jay, they all loved him very much. He was a busy guy and any time they got with him was precious. Riki shifted his beanbag and laid his head in Jay’s lap. Sunghood said nothing as he picked up Jay’s empty plate and passed him a full one, knowing that Jay sometimes got too busy to eat properly. 
The next few hours were spent leisurely; alternating between playing games and having weird, in-depth conversations about random topics. Jay’s cheeks hurt from laughing. His sweater had come off hours ago and now he laid on the floor, Jungwon draped over him as they watched Heeseung and Riki play an intense game of Twister. 
Jay glanced at his watch and cursed, gaining the attention of Jungwon and Sunoo. “What is it, Hyung?” Sunoo asked, eyes on Heeseung’s trembling form. If Heeseung lost, Riki got to tell Heeseung’s Soulmate one secret. If Riki lost, he had to yell Heeseung’s name at his next game before he scored. The stakes were extremely high.
“Shit,” Jay shuffled upwards, smiling apologetically at Jungwon’s irritated look. “I gotta go, guys. I promised dad I’d help him.” He stood up, shrugging on his sweater.
Sunghoon frowned, glancing at his phone. “It’s only five forty-five. Don’t you want to meet Y/n? You should stay for a bit.” 
Jay did want to meet you, and he wanted to see just how good you were at carpentry, but he had committed to his dad. Part of him didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay and waste time, but the softer part of him refused. He smiled at Sunghoon. “I’ll be back. I’ll try and stop by as soon as I’m done. I’ll keep you updated.”
He pocketed his phone and laughed as the other boys yelled out their goodbyes, all exaggerated and gross. Jake even grabbed his face and kissed him right on the forehead, which ended with Jay pushing him off, groaning as he wiped his cheek. 
“See you later, Jay!” Heeseung yelled, trying not to fall over. He lifted his head and grinned. “Thanks for the snacks, by the way. You’re such a good malewife.” 
Jay blinked as Jungwon and Riki shook with laughter. Heeseung often called Jay terms like that but it never made it easier to hear. Jay wanted to walk over and push both Riki and Heeseung over, making them both lose, but he just rolled his eyes and flipped them off. 
“See you.” 
Twenty minutes after Jay left, you and your cousin parked the car in Sunghoon’s driveway. You were excited as you reached in the back, grabbing all the tools you needed. You had taken an interest in carpentry after your mother had damaged her wall and didn’t have the heart to tell your father. After that, you realized it was pretty easy to do. 
Plus, it made you feel better about yourself. You didn’t need a man to do these things for you. You were fully capable and it eased the tension in your shoulders. A small, miniscule part of you wondered if all the skills you had gained were simply to compensate for everything else you lacked. 
Your cousin shut your car door as you balanced everything in your uncle’s toolbox. He didn’t even ask when you declared that you needed his tools. He simply sighed and told you to go crazy. 
Your cousin rang the doorbell and the door was instantly pulled open by Sunghoon, his entire body shaking with excitement. He pulled her into a long, passionate kiss and you just stood behind her, looking up. You cleared your throat once, then twice.
“Ahem,” you coughed. This time, your cousin heard you and pulled away, laughing at the pout on Sunghoon’s lips. She kissed him once more before throwing you an apologetic smile. She simply pushed past him and waved to you to follow.
You snickered at Sunghoon’s lovestruck expression as you walked by him, pulling him out of the trance he was under. He caught up to you and bumped shoulders with you, smiling at you. He glanced at the tools in your arm and shook his head, not wanting to even ask. 
You followed your cousin down the basement stairs and frowned at the uneven bumps and screws. When your feet landed on the cold floor, you turned back to the stairs. “You should really get carpet on those stairs, Sunghoon. It’s dangerous to have such uneven steps.”
The chatter behind you quietened and Sunghoon raised an eyebrow at you. You turned back to face him and found them all staring at you, curiosity swimming in their eyes. Your eyes drifted from Jake to Riki and you frowned. “What? Are you super sensitive about your stairs too?”
Sunghoon quietly shook his head, tilting it in thought. “No, you’re just not the first person to tell me that.”
You sighed in relief and shrugged. “Oh. Yeah, obviously.” You eyed the stairs again. “Those are some weird stairs.” You didn’t pay attention to the eyes on you as you walked further into the basement, putting down all the tools by the wall. Everyone else shared a curious look before going back to doing whatever they were doing “So who else has mentioned the stairs?”
“Jay,” Jake answered, shoving a piece of fruit in his mouth. “He’s always talking about them.”
You nodded, slowly understanding this Jay character. “Are you guys sure that Jay is real? All this talk and I have yet to meet him.”
Heeseung laughed, slapping his thigh. “Oh, he’s real. Very real.” 
Your cousin raised an eyebrow at Sunghoon. “Where is he?” Sunghoon shrugged, kissing her forehead. “Had to help his dad with something.” 
You turned around, smiling at everyone. You ignored the way your cousin and Sunghoon took up the whole couch and walked to Jungwon and Riki, sitting in between them. They hugged you and you ruffled Riki’s hair, holding yourself back from pinching his cheek. You all watched as Jake and Sunoo played an intense game of twister. 
You quickly fixed the hole in the wall, a bit nervous because of all the eyes on you. It didn’t help that everyone refused to let you hold the drywall knife even though you had only had one mishap with a knife years ago. Once it was done, Sunghoon nodded in approval and you felt accomplished.
Later, the basement was filled with laughter and music, a comfortable blanket of warmth covering the coldness of the evening. You finished your slider before looking up at Jungwon. “Hey,” you mumbled. “Who made all the snacks?” You knew how far Heeseung and Sunghoon’s skills went, and this seemed to surpass them.
“Oh, that would be Jay Hyung. He’s our resident chef.”
You nodded, in thought. You still had to meet Jay. He was supposed to come the other night but he never showed up. You thought you knew him, though, with how often the boys mentioned him. You had heard of Jay before, too. Somehow, you always seemed to miss him. He almost didn’t seem real. Despite Heeseung confirming that he was. 
“He’s a really good cook,” you shoved a dumpling in your mouth. You weren’t the best cook, despite your constant efforts. You could follow a recipe closely enough, but you didn’t have that natural talent that you assumed Jay had. 
After you had lost the game of Twister with your cousin, you sat on the sofa with Riki and Sunghoon. You leaned into Sunghoon and he wrapped his arm around you. To him, you were like a cousin. Someone he didn’t have to see or talk to all the time, but knew that when you did, things would be fun. Riki laid slumped against you. He didn’t usually get comfortable so quickly with strangers but he already knew you from the stories, and you thought he was just the cutest.
You watched as your cousin tried beating Sunoo and Jake at Mario Kart, but all you could do was laugh. She was horrible at it, but she was smiling and having fun. You knew Heeseung was just itching to grab the controller out her hand and you parted your lips to make a comment when your wrist hurt.
You glanced down at your right wrist and your eyes widened when the slight stinging pain turned into something warmer. You gripped your wrist and held your breath when the J on your wrist turned a solid, dark blue. You gasped at the colour, immediately standing upright. You caught the attention of everyone in the room and they stared at you.
You glanced at your cousin with wide, frightened eyes. What was happening? You rubbed the letter, wondering if you were seeing this. No, no, this can’t be.
“Y/n?” She dropped the controller, slowly standing up. She walked to you and grabbed your wrist, gasping at the blue letter. Suddenly, everything around you became quiet and loud at the same time. Everyone stood up and surrounded you, eyes wide as they stared at your wrist. 
Heeseung laughed, biting his fist in excitement. Sunoo and Riki shared a look of disbelief. Jungwon could only gape with Jake, neither hadn’t actually witnessed a tethering in real life. 
Your cousin said your name softly, pulling you out of your haze. She smiled at you and grabbed your other hand. “Y/n. Listen to me,” she squeezed your wrists. “Do you know what this means?”
Numb, you could only nod. When your Soulmate is close, your letter turns blue. The two letters then tether together a string of fate that tries to pull both Soulmates together. The string is invisible to everyone but them, and is inevitable once it has appeared.
“Can you see the string?”
You blinked and looked down at your wrist, eyes widening as a blue string appeared in front of your eyes, connecting your letter J with someone else’s wrist. Your eyes followed the blues hue until you glanced at the basement stairs. 
“This is so exciting,” Riki whispers, earning a shove from Sunghoon. He could see the turmoil on your face. The hesitance and the need that swirled in your eyes. Any second now, and you would begin to–
Breathing heavily, you yanked your wrists from your cousin's hold and booked it upstairs, running towards your Soulmate. Your cousin stared at where you once stood before she yelled your name, running after you. Sunghoon and Heeseung followed, calling both your names.
Panicked, Jake grabbed the car keys and ran after them. Jungwon, Sunoo, and Riki followed him, all four of them scrambling up the stairs to the front door. Jake watched as the four of you ran down the street and decided it would be better to have one car. He shoved the three younger boys in the back and quickly pulled out of the driveway. 
You ran as fast as you could. There was a red car driving ahead of you, and you knew it belonged to your Soulmate. It had not gotten far when you ran out the front door, but now it was leaving you in its wake.
Blood pumped to your head as your lungs burned. You could hear your cousin, Sunghoon, and Heeseung behind you but you didn’t care. You weren’t exactly sure what you were doing, all that you knew was that you needed to see him. To touch him. It was as if a centuries old feeling had overtaken you, throwing all common sense out the window as primal need and want swirled inside of you.
Abruptly, the car came to a stop in the middle of the road. The blue string tightened as you neared the car, out of breath and sweaty. Slowing down, you began heaving in deep breaths when you were only twenty meters away from the car. 
Heeseung and Sunghoon caught up to you, huffing and sweaty. Heeseung put his hand on your shoulder as the three of you caught your breath, your cousin now speed walking to you. His eyes narrowed at the familiar license plate and he shared a look with Sunghoon, both holding their tongues. 
Your eyes were focused solely on the driver side of the red car. You didn’t care about the model or the plate, just the person who drove it. Your heart was beating so loudly in your chest you could feel it in your fingernails. You were still out of breath but it had nothing to do with running. Your Soulmate sat in that car and you had no choice but to meet him. 
Your cousin reached you and put her hand on your other shoulder. She was excited and nervous but she could feel the tension rolling off of you in waves. She squinted at the car and gasped, immediately being shushed by Heeseung and Sunghoon. Somewhere behind you, a car had been parked. You could hear other voices join the cloud of noise in your mind. 
“Y/n,” Heeseung whispered. “Don’t be scared. I promise you that he’s a good guy. There’s nothing like meeting your soulmate for the first time.” He squeezed your shoulder. “Remember, he is perfect for you.” 
You nodded, tears in your eyes. You had imagined this scenario many times in your head but it was never real. You knew that realistically you had a Soulmate but you never expected to meet him so young. Now, with hundreds of emotions clashing inside you, the only one you could identify was longing. 
Slowly, you put one foot in front of the other until you slowly started getting closer to the car. You stopped after a few steps, hands shaking as you realized that only you were moving. You purse your lips at the thought of your Soulmate not wanting to meet you.
“He doesn’t want me,” you mumbled. You took a step back but your cousin’s chest stopped you. She stood directly behind you and held both your shoulders, a frown on her lips. “What? Y/n, of course he does. He’s probably just as nervous as you.” 
You shook your head, trying to ignore the blue string that looked so tempting, so inviting. “He’s not even moving.” You tugged your hand back, wincing when the letter burned for a second. “He doesn’t want me.”
“Dumbass,” Sunghoon whispered, rolling his eyes. Of all the moments he chose to be slow, this is what prevailed? Sunghoon wanted to drag him out of the car and shake him until he reached his senses. 
Heeseung grabbed a small pebble from the road and eyed it. He glanced at Sunghoon who only shrugged. Nodding to himself, Heeseung threw the pebble right at the car. You watched as the small stone hit the car’s back window with a quiet smack!
However small the stone, it did its job. You held your breath as the figure inside the car moved. You watched with wide, shiny eyes as he slowly opened the car door and stepped out. Your eyes travelled from his black boots up his dark blue jeans. You eyed the black sweater before you glanced at the side of his face. Your entire body shook and you audibly gasped when he slammed the door closed, turning to you.
Your shiny eyes met his dark brown ones and everything around you stopped. All the noise disappeared and the presence of others behind you no longer existed. It was just you and him. It was always going to be you and him.
Jay was frozen. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, his palms sweaty as he tried to breathe. He had driven to Sunghoon’s house and parked, before he realized he forgot his phone at home. He pulled out of his driveway and began to drive when his wrist burned and the letter turned blue. In shock, he kept his foot on the pedal, unable to process anything.
It was only when he saw your figure in the rearview camera that he parked his car, breathing heavily. He blinked a few times, mouth dry, as he stared at you. You stood in front of him, hands trembling and so beautiful. He ignored the audience behind you, his sole focus on you. 
You were so beautiful, so perfect. His heart swelled in his chest and he was sure this wasn’t healthy. His lungs almost burst and his hands twitched. He needed to do something. He needed to see you up close, touch your face. This couldn’t be, Jay wanted to shout. She’s too pretty. 
You swallowed as you stared at him. He was beautiful. With his strong jaw and sharp eyebrows that were covered by his black hair. Your eyes trailed his face, memorizing the shape of his nose and lips and his broad shoulders. 
He looked so big and strong and yet so gentle, you almost collapsed. His tan skin made you want to kiss him, and the way he was staring at you, eyes wide and twinkly, made you think he wanted the same.
The blue string tightened and pulled you both into each other, impatient; you started moving towards him and he started moving towards you. Neither of you had any control over your limbs as fate pulled you both together, space lessening. 
Jay broke into a run, needing to breathe you in. He almost called out to you when you began running towards him, wanting you to save your breath because he was coming to you. Breathless, you both stopped in front of each other, eyes locked on the other. 
You were shorter than him, and when you looked up at him, eyes wide and filled with trepidation and excitement, Jay’s knees buckled. You smiled at him, at the closeness, breathing in his scent. He was so handsome, masculine features mixed with soft, angelic ones. At your smile, all of Jay’s initial worries melted. As long as you smiled at him, he knew he would be okay. 
“Hi,” you whispered. Your voice, soft and anxious, brushed against his chin. You wanted to reach out to him, touch his sharp jaw. Your blue letter itched, the need to turn red weighed heavily on both of you. 
Jay smiled and you melted, all your insecurities and indifference dissipating. How could you have had any qualms about this? About him? He was perfect to you, from his smile to his trembling hands. 
“Hi, pretty.” Jay inched closer to you, tips of his shoes touching yours. Your cheeks felt warm at the term, knowing he genuinely meant it. He was staring at you with so much passion, heat infused into eyes. 
Slowly, you reached up. Your right hand slowly inching towards your face. Jay watched you closely, wanting to paint a perfect picture of you in his mind. His eyes briefly glanced at the blue J on your wrist and his smile deepened. That’s right, he thought. You were his and he was yours. 
Gently, you cupped his cheek and you both winced in pleasure as your wrists began to burn. He leaned into your hand and it felt like all the stress you had been harboring for years had lifted off your chest. Your heart felt lighter and fuller and when you breathed, it felt like you had taken your first breath of fresh air. 
Jay closed his eyes as his wrist burned. He nuzzled his face into your warm hand, tears pricking his eyes as all of his hardships and insecurities melted away. He suddenly felt like he could rule the world, like he deserved everything good the world had to offer. 
He felt like he deserved you; someone so beautiful and soft, with a kind smile and wide eyes. 
Jay lifted his right wrist, keeping it parallel to yours. You both watched as the letters turned permanently red, something warm swirling in your stomachs. Once the burning lessened, you tried pulling your hand away but Jay caught your wrist, keeping your hand on his face. He lifted your other hand to his face and you grinned when his eyes fluttered shut. 
You rubbed his jaw, silently impressed by the sharpness. Everything felt warm and electric. You could feel your insides turn to mush when he smiled at you, his eyes lighting up. His lips looked so soft, so plump. Without thinking, you ran your thumb across his bottom lip, transfixed by the pinkness. Jay almost whimpered at the feeling, his entire face warming up. 
With an urgency Jay had never felt before, his hands gently came up to your waist. His eyes squinted in question and you nodded, needing his hands on you. His strong hands rested on your waist, pulling you in closer to him.
“I know we have a lot to talk about,” Jay’s voice brushed against your lips, “but I might pass away if I don’t kiss you.” His eyes were filled with adoration, desperation leaking into his hold. 
You nodded, pulling his face closer to yours. “Kiss me,” you begged. You didn’t even mind the audience behind you, knowing that they didn’t matter. Nothing did, not when his lips hovered over yours. 
Jay smiled as he pressed his lips against yours. You gasped into his mouth, a wave of emotions crashing into you, pushing you further into him. The warmth in your chest erupted, spreading over your whole body as he kissed you. His lips softly pressed against yours and he pulled away. Before you could think, you grabbed the front of his sweater and pulled him back, slamming your lips against his. 
You could feel his heart beating and knew yours was beating just as loudly. Jay pulled you flush against him, kissing you back just as hard. He had never felt like this before. He had never wanted to fall to his knees in devotion the way he wanted to right now. He could have if your grip on him wasn’t so strong.
Everything inside you begged for your hands to roam, to touch his body. But you couldn’t. Not yet. You didn’t even know his name. With a heavy heart, you pulled away, panting into his mouth. Your eyes were still closed when he rested his forehead against yours, both breathing the other in. 
“I called this,” a familiar voice said behind you. 
Jay opened his eyes first and couldn’t help but smile at your expression; lips plump and eyes shut. You looked breathtaking. He almost pressed another kiss to your inviting lips but his eyes glanced to the side and he froze. All his friends, all your friends, were staring at him with goofy smiles and mischievous eyes. 
Slowly, you opened your eyes and Jay looked back at you. You smiled shyly at him before looking down. He still held you close to his chest, his hands warm on your waist. Your hand was still gripping his sweater and cupping his cheek. You didn’t have it in you to let go. 
“Everyone’s staring,” you whispered. “Aren’t they?” 
Jay nodded, a soft smile on his face. You wanted to kiss it. Your heart couldn’t handle it. It was such a beautifully sculpted smile, the edges of his lips turned upwards as his eyes shone. “They are.” He narrowed his eyes slightly at them. “Do you want me to tell them to go?”
You shook your head. You knew you were still in the middle of the street but if you were alone with him, you may get yourself in trouble. He was too much. You didn’t trust yourself enough, part of you knew that you wouldn’t mind if he began to strip you. “It’s okay. They wouldn���t leave, anyways.”
Jay tilted his head, his head filled with clouds of desire and affection. He licked his lips and tried not to smirk when your eyes fell on them, wide with curiosity. “I know I should have asked before, but what’s your name, pretty?” 
You laughed, smiling in embarrassment. If Jay could have bottled the sound, he would have. If he could have bottled it, he would have worn it around his neck, wanting to keep it close to his heart. He had heard many laughs over the years, but none that sounded as beautiful as yours. 
“Y/n,” you answered. You grazed his cheek with your thumb, not noticing the way his eyes widened. “My name’s Y/n.” You looked up at Jay and frowned at his surprised expression. Your eyebrows furrowed and you purse your lips. “What? What is it?”
“You’re Y/n? The Y/n?” 
Slowly, you nodded. “Yes? I’m sorry,” you pulled your head back, “you know who I am?”
Jay opened his mouth to answer but then paused. Disbelief bubbling in his chest. He glanced back at Sunghoon and Heeseung’s pleased faces and realized he hadn’t answered you. Shaking his head, he laughed. You simply watched him in confusion as laughter took over his body, his eyes tearing up. 
“I’m Jay,” he finally answered. He watched as the information processed in your mind, watched as your lips parted and your eyes grew. You stared at him like he was a magical creature and he wondered if he was looking at you the same way. 
“You’re Jay?” You grabbed his chin, turning his head back and forth, trying to sear his face into your mind. “As in, the Jay who always complains about the stairs and cooks?”
Amused, Jay simply nods. You both stare at each other in wonder, hundreds of emotions brimming underneath the surface while unspoken words sit in between you. All those years that you had missed each other, all those occasions that could have been. 
“So, isn’t this interesting?” 
You broke your eye contact with Jay and turned at the sound of Heeseung’s pleased voice. You smiled as they all walked up to you, happiness shining in their eyes. Jay rolled his eyes before he stepped beside you, his arm still around your waist. 
Your cousin grinned at you and you smiled back, still in shock. She stepped towards you and you moved away from Jay, wrapping your arms around her. She hugged you tight, whispering quiet nothings to you. You squeezed your eyes shut, tears on the verge of spilling. She pulled away and you wiped a tear that escaped her. No words were exchanged because you already knew. You could feel it. You understood it all now. She simply kissed your cheek and smiled at Jay. 
Sunghoon ruffled your hair and you frowned, slapping his hand. He grinned at you before bumping his shoulder against Jay’s. Jungwon and Sunoo hugged you, congratulating you. Jake pressed a soft kiss to your head, telling you how proud he was. Riki was crying and you hugged him. You rubbed his back as he sobbed, as the true emotional baby he was. 
You teased Riki, whispering quiet phrases of encouragement before he let you go. This was the first time he had watched Soulmates meet and it was beautiful. He wanted to find his own so badly. 
Quietly, Jay stepped beside you, his hand resting on your lower back. He needed you close to him. While he appreciated all his friends and their teasing and jabs, he really just wanted you alone. He wanted to get to know you, to know you beyond the stories he had heard. He wanted to memorize your taste and your smile. He wanted to begin his forever. 
You smiled at him and realized that his eyes were bright with something else. Something dangerous. You turned your head, facing Heeseung as Jungwon recalled his joke from the other night. Your entire body felt warm and you tried to ignore his body heat beside you. 
Your cousin, being the best person to exist, noticed the quietness between you both and she nudged Sunghoon. With a single raised eyebrow, he understood her unspoken words and nodded. He cleared his throat, interrupting Heeseung. “Maybe we should give them some space? Jake, let's take your car back.” He winked at Jay and winced when your cousin elbowed him. 
Jake nodded, understanding how important this moment was. He fetched his keys from his pocket and clapped his hands. “Okay! Everyone who’s not Jay or Y/n back to my car. Pick the laps you want to sit on.” 
You and Jay watched as the seven of them walked away, arguing and laughing. You stood in the middle of the road until you could no longer see Jake’s care. Your breathing had gotten deeper, a bubble of anxiety and excitement bubbling in your chest. 
Jay turned his head and looked at you, suddenly nervous. His heart skipped a beat when you looked at him, smiling. “Have you eaten? Do you want to get something to eat? Or drink?” 
Your smile widens at his words. He was just as nervous as you were. It calms you down a bit, knowing you didn’t have to pretend with him. “I could eat.” You admit. Jay’s eyes soften and he nods. He slowly pulls you to his car and you follow him, nervous. 
“I can’t believe you almost drove away from me,” you teased. Jay’s ears turned red and you laughed, finding him adorable. As you neared his car, Jay’s shoulders dropped. 
“I was nervous,” he admitted. “And a bit scared. I didn’t expect to find you like that.” 
You nodded in understanding because you did understand. Still, you purse your lips. “You’re not still nervous, are you?” You wanted to keep your own insecurities out of your tone but he caught them. “I mean, you’re not upset that you found me, are you?”
Jay stilled at your words. You didn’t even notice until your hand slightly grazed the roof of his car. You turned, only to find Jay in front of you. He stepped towards you and your back hit the side of his car. You looked up at him, surprised. He caged you in, arm on either side of you.
Your throat dried at his closeness and his eyes; gosh, his eyes. Dark and blown wide with fondness and desire. He dipped his head down to yours until his breath made your ear tingle. 
“Y/n, you have no idea how happy I am. My heart is about to burst out of my chest and I am one second away from bursting into tears.” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “I want to touch you all over, learn everything about you, but I’m trying to be a gentleman.” He pulled back, smiling gently at you as if he didn’t just ignite a fire in your whole body.
Your eyes shut at his words, knowing you had mistaken his hesitant demeanor. He watched as you breathed his scent in, wanting to coat yourself in his smell. The intensity of your want was killing you. Is this how it felt for all Soulmates? 
You opened your eyes and Jay almost fell to his knees at the need and want in your eyes. He felt the exact same way, but he wanted to be patient. He wanted to spend more time with you, learn more about you, before he made love to you. He wanted to be a gentleman, someone who you wouldn’t mind calling your Soulmate. 
Jay kissed you, smiling when you wrapped your arms around his neck. He pushed into you, wanting to feel every crevice of your body. Your hands pushed into his hair, pulling him closer to you. All you wanted was him. 
When you pulled at his hair, Jay pulled away, breathing heavily. He pressed a soft kiss to your pout, unable to help himself. He pressed his forehead against yours, smiling when you kissed his cheek. 
“We have forever, love.” He kissed your nose. “Let’s take things slow. Let me treat you well.”
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a/n: its finally done! this is for the lovely @luvkpopp who requested soulmates! if you guys like this, i’m open to writing a soulmate au for all of hyung line!
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cherry-leclerc · 3 months
Text
method acting ☆ cl16
genre: series - humor, strangers to friends/roommates
word count: 5.1k
cherry here!... first req that turns into a mini series and I'M SO EXCITED. the idea was perfect and i really hope you all enjoy this little story based off one of the best films :) common changes and adjustments are made for the plot but HAPPY READING
*can you guess what film it's based off of? where the title originates from?
ch. one ch. two ch. three ch. four ch. five ch. six
Chapter 1
Life, as you fear, is falling apart as you're confronted with a serious case of writer's block that puts your career on the line. As a solution, you're roommate helps you plan a solo trip to the Amalfi Coast for a much needed break but it doesn't take long for you to meet a certain Monegasque who lays passed out on the beach.
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Parents know best - at least that’s what we’re all told growing up. How about bioengineering? Cardiothoracic surgeon? Architecture? With braces and a messy fishtail, you shake your head profusely as you clutch onto your notebook. 
"No. Journalism."
“Why didn’t I listen to my mom?” Groaning, you rub your tired hands all over your face as your roommate stares back, bewildered by your sudden frustration. 
“You’re telling me doing open heart surgery would have been better than writing an article?”
Aiming a pencil at her, you gasp as you cover your mouth and she squints her brown eyes at you. “I am so sorry!” Running up, you hug her desperately. “I’m just stressed, I’m stressed, I’m stressed!” You pull away. “I’m stressed.”
Amelia chuckles as she sits down on a stool, pointing for you to do the same. “You, my serial killer friend, need a break.” You frown at her choice of words. If I take a break then I’m going to get fired. She smiles brightly. “You won’t though.”
You can distinctively pinpoint the moment a ripped up journal turned into a laptop. It was senior year of highschool and you finally had the courage to confront your parents and tell them that you, if fact, were not joking about your bachelors in journalism.
"Darling, how will you make a living out of something like that?"
For a moment, her words had you second guessing your choices. Could she be onto something? Know something perhaps you don’t? The older, the wiser, no? 
But you had already applied - it was done. So you tipped your head firmly, clicked your tongue against your straight teeth, and smiled.
"I’ll find a way."
You moan softly as you hit your forehead with the palm of your hand. “What I would give to just be an elementary school teacher…Grading papers, cute kids-”
“Shit everywhere, tantrums, headaches, signs of early aging - oh God - receding hairline!” Amelia pales as she scrunches her nose in disgust. “Nightmare.” The blonde reaches for your hands, intertwining her fingers into yours. “But this is your dream, it’s what you're good at. Don’t let a little writer's block scare you away.”
-
“Goodness gracious! Are you alright?” Lucy’s southern accent surprises you as you fix your crutches. The older lady had been working at the famous magazine company since you can remember, always a cheerful receptionist. Loud, too. 
You wince. “Oh, you know…clumsy me?” 
"Eleanor is never going to let me take a vacation. I would have to die first."
Amelia’s eyes twinkle deviously. 
"Then that’s what we’ll do."
"Die?"
“It’s okay, I could open it myself,” you yelp as Lucy swings the door to your boss’ office. Let me, she insists as she pushes you in. Tumbling, you hurry to fix your posture as you nervously giggle, beady eyes staring back at your rude interruption. “I had no idea you were in the middle of a meeting.”
Eleanor and a crowded room all look you up and down before she sighs. “You’re already here, what is it that you need?” You shudder at her cold tone.
“I- uh- I mean, if it’s possible, I was t-thinking I could maybe get a m-m-month off?”
Oh no, someone whispers as they catch the editor-in-cheifs face change. Your stomach drops. Or not, I’m fine! The gray haired lady stands up as she tauntingly makes her way over, circling you like a hungry lion. “And why do you need a month off?”
“Doctor’s orders?”
She hums, analyzing your casted leg and left arm. “I’m sure you can type with your right hand. Off you go.” You blink. Once she takes a seat, she narrows her eyes again. “I said you can go.”
“Of course. Have a nice day.”
"She’s going to see right through me," you repeat for the millionth time as Amelia's boyfriend, Roman, works on the fake casts. 
She groans. "With that attitude she will! Get it together. You have to stand your ground and don't dare walk out of that office without a month off."
Terrified of your best friend, you nod. "Thank you again for this future doc, hope you don’t get fired."
He pales. "The things we do for the people we love, am I right?" Amelia blushes.
Letting out a shaky breath, you brace yourself before tripping and falling straight onto your back. The whole room gasps in shock as Eleanor stares back with a bored expression. Shit, are you okay? Peeking with one eye, you catch Grayson - Eleanor’s son - staring back with a helpful hand. 
He had always been nice to you, bringing you coffee whenever he was around. Sometimes he even helped you brainstorm new ideas. Your heart rate accelerates as you struggle to get up. Mother, she can’t be working in this condition. She huffs as she waves her hand in dismissal, Dior bracelets clicking against one another. 
A month. That’s it.
“Thank you,” you whisper as he helps you into your overly priced Uber. He tilts his head, slowly tracing your features.
“You're lying, aren’t you?” He signals at your poorly done cast. 
“I c-can explain-”
He laughs. “Your secret's safe with me.” Reaching over, he buckles you. Your breath hitches. “Enjoy your time off. I’ll be waiting for you.”
-
“I’ll be waiting for you!” You swoon as you retell your embarrassing story to the cozy couple who cuddle on the couch like proud parents. 
Amelia claps. “He’s the one! I feel it!” Roman scoffs. Settle down, daydreamers. Your friend slaps his hand. “Debbie Downer.” You giggle as she wiggles her eyebrows. “So…what are you going to do now that you're free?”
You tap your chin. “Um, probably write.”
Her smile falls. “This is the whole reason we even did any of this! For you to not think and just enjoy yourself!” 
Her boyfriend nods, floppy hair bouncing up and down. “Yeah, I didn’t go through all that,” he signals to the casts that lay by the doorway, “Just for you to lay around doing what you always do.” He stands up to grab an apple. “Travel, I’m serious.”
-
Amalfi Coast. It called you poor in seven different languages as you tug your suitcase into your AirBnB. Amelia and Roman had sat through 8 hours of planning everything, detail and safety included. 
"Oh, click that one!" Roman tsks his tongue as his fingers slide against the keypad. The blonde beams. "That’s perfect!"
"Perfectly out of my range," you sigh as you slap it shut. "I’ll die homeless if I stay there." The couple share a silent look before returning their attention.
"Well, we were thinking… " the brunette starts before your friend cuts him off, jumping up and down on his lap. He groans. 
"Sorry, honey, but anyways, we’ll pay for it!" Your jaw drops as you wave your finger, shutting down the idea.
"There’s no way I’m going to let you guys do that-"
"Okay, maybe not all, but at least a good chunk of it," she butts in as Roman stays with a soft smile. "Isn’t that right? " He nods.
"Take it as an early birthday present," he adds. Your chest tightens at their kind gesture.
"That’s still a lot of money." You grow light headed.
"Then no birthday presents for two years," Amelia squeaks as she grabs your hands over the coffee table. "Just don’t say no, you need this." You debate inside your head for a few minutes before letting out a shaky breath.
"No birthday presents for the rest of my life and we have ourselves a deal."
Which is how you landed in one the most beautiful homes you think you will ever see in your entire life. You can’t even pretend to try and fit in because everything seems to make your eyes pop out of their sockets. 
After a bit of unpacking, your sweet tooth gets the best out of you as you grab your purse and head out the door. You can’t help but take pictures at almost everything you see, but everyone was doing the same so there couldn’t be too much judgment. Paying for your lemon sorbet, you hum constantly as you stare into the ocean. The breeze was warm, but not obnoxiously so. The rocks underneath you tickle slightly as you get comfortable. 
Then you hear it, light snores. Startled, you turn over as you catch a man sleeping, arm laying over his stomach. You think about maybe moving location but when he releases soft whimpers, you find yourself growing sympathetic. What if he was in trouble? You couldn’t let a person die if they were three feet away from you. Hesitantly, you crawl your way over as you tap his leg.
“Ciao,” you say, but you can only catch his nose scrunching up since he had a hat laying over him, covering his mysterious features. Biting down on your lip, you dig your finger harder. “Ciaooo.” Sitting up abruptly, he groans, shoulder bumping against your cone. You yelp before pouting at your treat melting all over the surface. 
“Oh merda, colpa mia,” he apologizes as soon as he notices your gloomy mood. “Posso comprartene un altro se vuoi, ti prometto che non sono un serial killer-” Like a cat being bathed, you jump up high as you create a large distance. 
“Serial killer?” you squeal. He catches onto your accent swiftly as he waved his hands in defense. 
“I’m not! I’m not!” You eyed him suspiciously, chest heaving heavily. “I was offering to buy you another cone and saying that I’m not a sick serial killer, that’s all…” He signals to your desert. “I feel bad.”
Releasing a soft breath of relief, you smile politely. “Don’t worry about it. I was just trying to see if you were okay, you were kind of…” You theatrically twitch as he chuckles. Your cheeks burn up at the sound. 
“I’m fine, thank you.” A beat. “Sort of.” Softly narrowed eyes stare back at him. Do you need anything? He winces at the bright sun. “I feel a bit sick, if I’m being honest.” He zigzags a bit before falling straight into the rocks, painful grunts following. You shriek as you run over, flipping him onto his back.
“Holy fuck, holy fuck.” Other than a cut up lip, he’s fine, but he groans like there’s no tomorrow. Rightfully so, you start panicking as you dab his bottom lip with the hem of your shirt, then you remove his hat.
“Don’t!” But you’re already tossing it over your shoulder as you analyze his bruised up cheek. 
Green eyes look into yours as you stop breathing. His eyes are sensitive, like some sort of past soulmate, if you believe in that type of bullshit. His hair is rusty brown, long strands hitting up to his lashes. His nose is slightly pointy and it’s worse that they’ve always been your favorite kind. Lip swollen from his clumsiness, but a natural pink. Freckles and moles sprinkle along his face. 
Scooting away, he raises finger over his lips, cryptically telling you to hush. Confused, you lay your palm against his cheekbone. “You need to see a doctor.” Now he becomes visibly bewildered as he cocks his head to the side. You don’t know who I am? Flushed, you extend your hand, introducing yourself. “And you are?”
The brunette lets out an unhinged laugh as his large hand swallows yours. “Charles, I- I m-my name is Charles.” Dimples pop up from how wide he’s smiling, and that almost leaves you gasping for air. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Then he grabs his head in discomfort. “Seriously though, you need to see a doctor.” No, he starts. You roll your eyes. “Fine, a medico or whatever you want to call it.” Helping him up, he leans against you as you wheeze.
“I’m perfectly fine, I just need to sleep.” He pants against your head, catching a whiff of your shampoo scent. “Pretty,” he mumbles. You blush harder. “Do you think you can take me to the nearest hotel?”
“I don’t know if that's such a good idea,” you mutter. “Don’t take it the wrong way, but I don’t know you at all.” He shyly nods before removing his arm away from your figure, and all of a sudden it’s cold. 
“I get it, don’t worry.” The green eyed boy waves goodbye before stumbling away. 
You have always been a bit of a people pleaser, one of your many flaws. Amelia and Roman had always called you out on it, stopping you from making stupid decisions.
But Amelia and Roman weren't here.
“Wait.” Charles turns around, loopy eyes squinting at your blurry physique. Making your way over, you take his arm and place it over you. “You can stay with me, I’m just up that hill.”
-
“You can’t be helping out boujee vagrants,” your friends scold you over the phone as you grimace. “Why would you do that?”
You nibble on your painted nail. “I felt bad…” 
Roman snickers before coming into frame. “What if he’s some kind of maniac?” Like a child, you shake your head.
“He said he wasn’t!”
The couple groan at your naiveness. “Boy, let’s just trust everyone we meet then!” The blonde pushes her face directly onto the screen. “You need to slap him awake and kick him out.” 
But there was something so peaceful and homey about the way Charles was sleeping, covered like a butterfly in a cocoon. His chest rises up and down as he occasionally reaches for the other pillow, bringing towards his chest. With one last glaze, you leave the bedroom.
“I can’t do that to him. He was in really bad shape, you should have seen him.”
God can’t even help her, Roman grunts before strolling away. Amelia sighs. “Listen, I know you’re just being a good person, but you don’t even know this guy. We just want you to be safe.” I know, you mumble, chewing on your hoodie’s string. She tips her head. “Let him stay the night if you want, but tomorrow, he leaves. I’m not playing around.”
“Tomorrow,” you reassure her before hanging up. 
-
He had slept for a day and a half and you were starting to get worried but after contemplating throwing his body over the balcony, he was stretching like a newborn baby. “That was the best nap I’ve had in years.” You chuckle awkwardly at the stranger.
“That was most definitely not a nap.” 
He smiles. “Did you sleep well?”
“So good,” you respond quickly and he would have settled with that if it weren’t for your dark under eyes.
“Shit, you haven’t slept?” 
“I did, I promise!” Green eyes reflect intently as you crumble. “Okay, I didn’t, but it was only for two days.” Two? You cringe. “There was just one bed and I didn’t know whether you were-” You trail off. 
“Wasn’t what?”
Maroon paints your cheekbones. “A psycho killer…” You can tell he’s offended by the way he rubs the tip of his nose, as if he’s trying to ease the tension.
“I’m not the Monster of Florence or anything like that,” he mutters as you begin to apologize, watching as he sits far enough away just in case you feel the need to bolt out the door. “But I understand why you don’t trust me. We don’t know each other…So, why don’t we work on that?”
It takes about an hour for him to tell you what he considers the basics about his entire persona, and you rant about your upbringing. He frowns.
“That must have sucked. Not having parents who believe in you.” You flinch at his truthful words.
“I think they’re starting to get it,” you pathetically try but even he can see right through your weak excuse. Focusing your attention onto your twiddling thumbs, you exhale. “How did your parents react when you told them you wanted to be a mechanic?”
The Monegasque seems stunned for a nanosecond before munching on a blueberry and crossing his arms. “Their only priority was for me to be happy and doing what I love.” You smile sadly.
“Are you happy? Do you love it?”
“It’s my favorite thing in the world.” 
You feel a giggle bubbling inside your throat with the way he speaks about his job, but then you’d be doing the exact same thing that others do to you. He coughs. “So tell me, you really faked an injury?”
Your stomach hurts from how much Charles was making you laugh and before either of you knew it, the sun had set. “Did we really just waste an entire day?” 
“I don’t see it as wasting my day. I really like talking to you.”
Forcing yourself to look away, you untuck your legs from underneath your butt. “Wanna grab something to eat?”
There’s a comfortable silence that lingers between you both as you walk the busy streets of Amalfi. “Do you really need to wear a beanie? It’s burning hot.” Looking around, he shrugs and continues walking. 
You settled on sharing a plate of pasta since it was almost bedtime and neither of you weren't that hungry. “Good, right?” he questions the moment you shut your eyes about the delicious taste. You hum. 
“Free orgasm right here.”
Choking on his food, he quickly takes a sip of water as you smack his back. “I think I’m good now,” he squeaks as you smile timidly. You can feel the way he judges you as you devour your fair share, but you can’t help it. Connecting your gaze to his, he looks away as he drops his fork against the fancy plate. “Thank you for letting me stay the night.”
“Oh. Yeah, no problem.”
The brunette chews on his bottom lip. “It was nice getting to know you, really.” You blink back dazed as he continues. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your trip.”
“You’re leaving?” Even your inquiry shocks you as he smiles back warmly. I don’t want to interrupt. You’re looking for peace, remember? Trying to think of a quick enough excuse, you say, “Having someone to keep me company doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. I-I mean if you’re not busy.”
Under the table, you were crossing your fingers as he took in your offer. The brunette nods. “I guess it could be fun.”
-
“You did the right thing,” Amelia congratulates you the next time you call her. “Rather be safe than sorry.” 
Just then, Charles walks in with a bag of peaches, grinning proudly as he makes his way over. “Agreed. Listen Amelia, I have to go. Adventure awaits! Tell Roman that I miss him! Talk to you later!” Hanging up, you greet your roommate. Awkwardly, he passes you the juicy fruit. 
“Friend back home?” You hum, biting down. Taking a bite of his own, he bows his head. “You miss your boyfriend?” You stop chewing.
“Boyfriend? Oh, you mean Roman?” He clenches his jaw, then relaxes. You cackle loudly. “He’s my best friend's boyfriend,” you clarify. “We’re close - all of us.” 
“Oh.” Tossing the seed away, he rises up to his full height. “Wanna see something cool?”
-
“You got insurance?” you joke as he covers your eyes, leading you mysteriously. You’re not going to get hurt or die if that’s what you’re worried about. You giggle. Okay, we’re here. Removing his hands, you take a minute to adjust your eyesight. “What the fu-”
“Cool, right?”
You scoff. “Cool? This is beautiful.” Running over to the cherry red Ferrari, you reach out before turning back to the 26 year old. He nods. Delicately, you brush your hand against the leather seats. “Where did you get this?” 
“I know a guy.”
“Mafia leader?” 
“Ha-ha,” he mocks as he unlocks it, going in to open the door. “Hop in.”
Humid wind sends your hair flying as you let out loud shrieks from the speed. You don’t know how he found such an isolated spot, but you don’t ask questions with how much you enjoy the thrill. “Again, again!” you cheer as he does professional donuts. The car comes to a halt as you fling forward and he stays as straight as can be. 
“How about I teach you?”
“Okay, put the car in gear.” Following instructions, you listen attentively. “Turn the wheel and floor it, but make sure to be alert and keep your foot on the brake just in case.” Swinging harshly, you let out a scream. “It’s okay, try again.”
After a while, you still couldn’t get it down and your frustration was starting to show. But he was patient, spilling out different versions of advice. Twist sharply. Biting on your bottom lip, you huff before trying again. His words circle your mind as you drive the Ferrari straight ahead before turning the wheel and pressing down on the gas. Your adrenaline picks up when you realize what you had just done.
“That was perfect!” Raising his hand out for a high five, you squeal as you smack it hard. He hisses, but you’re on a roll. 
“Hold on, Charles, you're in for a ride.”
Though his car is moving fast, the Monegasque feels as if he’s stuck in slow motion as he admires the way you control the Ferrari. He'd be lying if he said he didn’t find any of this attractive. It took you a while, sure, but your determination got to him as he kept his eyes trained on you, peeking over at you where you sat mumbling the steps over and over. Arms maneuvering the wheel flawlessly, knotted hair fanning your face. Stepping on the break, he barely has a moment to react before he slams right onto the dashboard. You wince.
“I should have warned you, crap! But you were doing so good! Your head would not move an inch.” Admiration paints your voice. Embarrassed, he rubs his temple.
“I got a bit distracted, but I’m fine.”
“Okay,” you mumble skeptically. Honking the prancing horse, you turn to him with a Cheshire Cat grin. “How about a drink, professor? My treat.”
-
“What’s the occasion?” the bartender asks as he fills two glasses of whiskey. I can do donuts now, you brag. His brows raise up in shock. “That’s impressive. It takes a good person to teach you.”
“It does, but lucky for me, I got it.” Discreetly you point over at Charles who sits with yet another baseball hat. “He’s pretty great.” The man's face drops as he leans against the table, getting closer to you.
“I’d say so! That’s Charles Leclerc.” Flabbergasted as to how he knows his name, you take the two drinks and raise them up as a silent thank you. “Free drinks on me if you need anymore, amore!”
On the way back to the small table, you ponder on the weird encounter. Had they met before? Perhaps Charles had fixed his car or something along the lines. Grazie, the Monegasque smiles as he takes a sip of the cool drink. You do the same, wide eyes shining at the taste. “Holy crap, this is good.” Swallowing the rest of the golden liquid, you signal at the bartender for the rest of the bottle. Nodding, he brings it over as Charles lowers his head, green eyes trained on his lap.
“It’s somehow sweet,” you narrate as you serve yourself another. “More?” He shakes his head, wavy hair following his movement. It’s the Italian charm. You hum against your cup. “Must be. Tastes like paradise.”
It’s safe to say that you were obsessed the minute you started growing tipsy. Squinting at the squawking girl who was pouring her heart out on the stage, microphone in hand, you snap your fingers loudly, jumping up. That. I want to do that! Your travel buddy chuckles. “You do?” 
“Of course I do. Plus, my voice is all warmed up.” Massaging your throat, you march over at the little old lady who plays the tarnished piano. “Potrei cantare dopo?” She nods kindly before wrapping up the song. I have another one in me, the girl yelps as her friends pull her off stage. 
“Oh great, a drunk removed for another drunk,” someone shouts out when you stumble on stage. 
“Hey. Blame the delicious drinks!” Flipping through the book, you narrow your eyes. “This one,” you cheer excitedly as you whisper into her ear. She beams. No one ever asks for that one! Practicing against the keys, she nods as you twirl your way back on stage. 
All eyes are on you as you play with the hem of your mini dress. Normally, you’d be a nervous wreck, and maybe the liquor helped, but you weren’t afraid of making a fool out of yourself. 
“You got a fast car, I want a ticket to anywhere. Maybe we make a deal, maybe together we can get somewhere.” Soft keys echo through the small bar - for sure a guitar would have been better, but something about the familiar instrument makes Charles feel cozy as he listens to your voice. It isn’t perfect - you were drunk after all - but it was enough to make everyone listen closely like you were some divine object. 
Swaying, with you smiling sheepishly as you move your eyes through the crowd of strangers, and you’re glad the green eyed boy isn’t one of them. Is it fast enough so we can fly away? The brunette  grins at you as you spin in your dress, ponytail fluttering like grass in the gentle breeze. 
“So I remember we were driving, driving in your car. Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk. City lights lay out before us, and your arm felt nice wrapped ‘round my shoulder.”
There is some sort of unexplainable shift inside of you as you feel yourself sober up with his intense stare. His brows are drawn softly, listening to your sweet voice, as if you would disintegrate and never be seen or heard of again. A click - you just clicked.
“And I had a feeling that I belonged. I had a feeling I could be someone.”
-
Kicking the door wide open, Charles carries you in as he settles you on the bed. You flop around like a fish out their tank for good measure, then pout, bare feet pressing up against his clothed abs. He halts. “I need to change…take off all my makeup...” All of it, you mouth, droopy eyes struggling to stay open. 
“I can get you what you need.” Last time he dug through a girl's suitcase, on a mission to find all her essentials, he had a girlfriend. Pushing away his thoughts, he jogs back over to your limp body. “Okay, here you-” 
Curled up like a rolly polly, you breath gently as you sleep. The 26 year old isn’t too surprised, but rather confused. Does he just leave you now? Pacing the room, he nibbled down on his nails as he weighed his options. He could let you sleep peacefully and possibly get a beating in the morning for leaving you to rot with all the nastiness or he could get it done quick - not look twice - and maybe still get a beating.
“I’ll be fast,” he mutters to himself as he grabs your makeup wipes. He tries to be as ginger about it, a cool towel erasing your light makeup. As soon as you scrunch your face up like a baby rabbit, he stops and rushes away. Good enough.
Now comes the complicated part. Slip the dress off, change her into her jammies. Easy peasy. But the more he thinks about it, the more he’s unsure. One night with your outside clothes won’t kill you. 
“Take it off, Charles, please,” you grumble as you tug on your dress. His Adam's Apple bobs up and down with panic as he nods to himself. Green eyes flicker the room before they land on his t-shirt. Oversized - would cover you whole - fast. 
As if he’s being chased down by the police, he runs over and in a quick motion, slides your dress off before tugging his shirt over your head, dropping your passed out body onto the bed and throwing the duvets over you. Grazie, you murmur from underneath as he sighs.
“Don’t mention it.”
-
“Fucking hell,” you groan, clearly feeling the awful hangover. After promising to never drink again, you rub your eyes as you yawn, focus becoming drawn to the black shirt. Your stomach drops. No, no, no. Hurrying to look for your phone, you quickly unlock it before freezing.
Who is Charlz Leclerk? You can’t even recall when you must've searched this up, but Google definitely understood your investigation.
"Tell me, Nico," you pout as you take a sip of your whiskey as you wait for Charles to come out of the bathroom. "How do you know my friend's name?"
He beams excitedly. “Amore! He’s…” Blinking harshly, you try your best to listen and read his lips as he makes funny hand gestures. For a second, you swore he was swerving an invisible car. Waving his hand, he laughs. "Look him up."
Monegasque racing driver; Formula One; Currently racing for Scuderia Ferrari. 
“What?” you whisper as you throw your phone away, eyeing it like the plague. No. Charles was a mechanic - a mechanic, for god sakes. 
“Oh good, you’re awake.” He tosses you a paper bag. “It’s a sandwich. Eat.”
How can he even look at you and act like everything is okay? Did he do anything wrong? No, not really, but why would he keep this from you? You’re surprised to find yourself feeling hurt by his secretive actions as he stares back innocently. 
“Is it not good?” he questions when you chomp down sadly. It is, you reassure with a mouthful. “Hey, I was thinking we could go for a swim. The weather is nice out.”
“Mhmm,” you respond meekly. “Is it okay if I meet you there? I-I was thinking I could rinse my body first.” 
The brunette nods. “I can wait for you.”
“No!” You blush at your eager tone. “We’ll just meet up.” Okay? Grabbing his things and yours, he strolls out the door, but not before gifting you a small wink. Call me if you get lost. “Asshole!” you cry out as he chuckles, slamming the door behind him.
In a matter of seconds, you’re already dialing work. “Lucy! Is Eleanor there?” Sweetheart, how are you? How’s the leg? The arm? Do you need me to- “I’m fine. Can you connect me to Eleanor, it’s urgent.” The older lady giggles as she switches you over. 
“This better be good.”
Clearing your throat, you fiddle with the hem of his shirt. “I have an exclusive.” 
Eleanor’s rich and elegant voice scoffs. “What about your arm?”
“Like you said,” you hum. “I still got my right one."
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randomshyperson · 7 months
Text
Lacy - Werewolf!Reader x Wanda Maximoff - Kinktober #07
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Summary: This Halloween, Wanda receives a surprise visit from her favorite werewolf. The problem is that it's very difficult to keep a crush hidden during mating season.
Warnings: (+18), mutual pining, semi-public, very vague allusions to omega verse, beefy!reader, power!bottom wanda, a bit rough but they are actually sweet to each other, some praising and dirty talk. | Words: 3.144k
A/N-> First, I know nothing about werewolves. It was never my thing growing up (I’m a witch type of person I suppose) but I know about omegaverse stuff and since it’s wolf-based I tried some references from that lore. Also, I was totally thinking about Wednesday's show (and Wenclair ship tbh) when writing the school but you all be free to image whatever you wish. Also, the name is from Olivia Rodrigo’s song, ‘cause it’s such a friends-to-lovers/mutual pining coded lyrics. Good reading folks! 
General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad
-&-
The mating season was always the most tiring part of the year.
Even as a child, her days were marked by hard work and running errands - her mother was always very busy with orders, and somehow, the twins were obliged to finish the tasks in record time, so as not to delay the calendars and keep Natalya busy when her customers needed her.
As the largest and most respected apothecary in the country, Natalya Maximoff was also one of the biggest dealers in magical items - and this also included natural suppressants. Her customers wrote to her from all over the world, many famous packs like the Romanoffs or the Howletts only bought her products, and the witch was always very busy at this time of year.
So when their mother told them that she would leave the Maximoff Magical Articles Boutique in their care for two whole days, while she delivered packages around the world, none of them were surprised, as this had been done dozens of times before.
Wanda's indignation stemmed from the fact that her twin brother, as soon as there were no more magical remnants of the portal his mother had conjured to travel through, put on a jacket and told her he was leaving.
"But you can't leave me alone!" Wanda hurried away from the counter. Pietro chuckled, adjusting his hat on his silver hair. Since he had turned 18 last month, he had grown a good few centimeters, and even with her best serious expression, Wanda, who hadn't grown much since she was 15, no longer succeeded in frightening him. That, and well, like his father, Pietro had a bastard heritage of lycanthropy, and with his new skills, he had also gained extreme confidence.
"What, you gonna tell me you're scared of some little wolves?" He sneered, his fangs protruding from his smile. Wanda huffed angrily, her cheeks slightly red. "Don't be silly, Wanda. You're a witch. Nobody's is crazy enough to mess with you."
He tries to pat her on the shoulder, but Wanda pushes a finger against his chest. "I'm not afraid of any wolves, you selfish idiot! Mom says the store is our responsibility. And you're sneaking off to do who knows what! I don't want to spend all night looking after this place on my own. Apart from the season, it's Halloween, and kids go apeshit and-"
"Jesus, Wanda, I'll make it up to you!" He cuts in, already pulling away and ignoring the other girl's protests. "I've got to go, I'm taking Crystal to the movies, then we'll settle up!
"Pietro!" But the call was ignored and the store door was slammed in her face.
Wanda huffed to herself. She could survive a Halloween night, but her brother would owe her a lot if he didn't want to be snitched on. She returned to the counter, texting him another dozen curses before texting to her mother that everything was under control.
And lucky for her, that's how the evening actually went. 
Most of the few customers who showed up were locals, a few sorcerers in need of ingredients, and even a traveling vampire who needed to replenish some reserves for a long trip. Some children also asked for candy, and tired of getting up so often, Wanda decided to leave the jars outside.
It was almost at the end of her shift, when she was ready to close the shop, that a delicious smell wafted into the room. Wanda, who was distracted by the holiday lessons that the institute where she studied always offered when there were short vacations or not, was snapped out of her concentration by the fascinating smell. She looked up just as a figure stumbled into the store, covered by a school uniform hood.
She didn't need you to remove the cap to recognize you, and yet, when your face became visible, Wanda felt her heart unlearn how to beat properly. 
"Good evening?" You looked between the shelves, approaching the cashier, only to hesitate as soon as you saw Wanda. "Oh, h-hi. Uh, is Madame Maximoff around?"
You looked uneasy, adjusting your hair and fiddling with your fingers. Your flushed face must have been due to the walk from the Institute to the store. 
Wanda shook her head as she replied: "She had some orders to place. How can I help you?"
The color of your face deepened, and you couldn't look her in the eye for more than two seconds. "Hmm, I kind of need... suppressants." And it was the turn of Wanda's face to heat up. You continued talking anxiously. "I thought I still had some, but my reservation ran out, and since I'm in the dorm, I wouldn't want to... well, would you have any left? I know it's very short notice but I really need it."
Wanda nodded quickly, equally at a loss for words. You see, if you were any other of her werewolf colleagues, the situation might even be comical. She wasn't like Pietro and didn't make friends very easily, but she shared the same taunting nature. One horny wolf in the store and Wanda would have jokes for the rest of the year. But it was you, her longtime secret crush, emanating a very pleasant scent and in need of something so intimate that Wanda could barely control her own thoughts about what other ways she could help you if there were no other suppressors in the store.
"My mom usually sells everything before the season starts, but I can look in the warehouse to see if we have any leftovers. I'll be right back." She says, smiling softly at your anxious figure.
Wanda has never seen you in heat before; the mating seasons for new wolves begin at the end of puberty, between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, and the vast majority of her werewolf classmates at the Institute return to their packs at this time of year, already matched with their partners in the traditions of the lycanthrope. Wanda only knows about the rituals from her father's family, because each clan, from the Vampires to the witches, is very private about it all. Witches like her mother, who specialize in all kinds of products, are the exceptions.
Wanda tries the storeroom next to the counter, but after a few boxes, she snorts in frustration. Her mother really did sell everything, and she almost reprimanded you for not planning properly. For older, mismatched wolves, being without suppressors could be really dangerous. For you, a new werewolf, it would only be quite painful. It was easier for her to feel sorry. 
And while she tried the last few shelves at the back of the storeroom, you grew even more restless outside. Wanda had no idea how intoxicating the essence of a witch, especially a witch one cared about, was. If you hadn't been so desperate, you would have given up going into the store as soon as you could smell her from around the corner, but then again, your brain wasn't working very rationally right now.
And there was also a scarf on the counter, Wanda's most characteristic item since she had received it as a gift so many years ago. Many of the times you've noticed her, she's worn the item around her neck and it made sense that her scent was so strong in the room, even though she was upstairs.
Your limbs moved by instinct, you didn't have to think much, just let yourself be guided by the urge to exhale that distinctive smell more deeply. 
Your face was pressed against the scarf when Wanda reappeared, and her confused giggle made you jump away mortified.
"Are you all right there?" She ventured, receiving a very quick and embarrassed nod. Wanda chuckled again in amazement, and without caring much about your current condition, she approached. "I looked upstairs, but my mother sold everything, sorry. There's something else you might like to try, maybe a calming potion so you can sleep while... well, this happens to you."
You quickly agree, still embarrassed at being caught. Wanda doesn't mind, if anything, she always found it very entertaining how different you were from the other werewolves she knew; loud and confident to the point of being idiotic. Pietro was a prime example. And if it wasn't for your distinctive stature, she could easily have assumed from your shy and careful personality that you were just an ordinary human, perhaps a mermaid from the way you seemed to bewitch Wanda's attention all to yourself.
"I'm sorry." You mutter suddenly, while she is searching for a sleeping potion on the shelf under the counter. Wanda turns her face up in confusion, but you're looking away. "From the scarf, I know it's... weird. But my body seems to be acting on its own. Just forget about it when we get back to school, okay? I'll be normal when it's over."
"Don't worry, I don't mind." She assured meekly, before finally finding some bottles that could help you and taking them back to the counter. She bit her lip at the way you were panting, and the way your trembling fingers pulled some notes and coins out of your pocket. "You can take these two vials today, and this one in the morning if you're still..."
"Horny'?" You joke, and take Wanda by surprise, but she manages to return the short laugh. Your hands push out the money and she turns away to pack the vials into a small bag. "So, one now and two tomorrow."
Wanda quickly denies it. "No, darling, two now and one tomorrow. Are you... are you sure you're all right? You're sweating-"
"Just give me a minute." You interrupt her with a gasp, the sudden wave of heat catching you completely off guard. The room starts to spin, and for a whole moment, all you can feel is your own arousal and the way you want to touch the witch in front of you. Your body gives way, and your hands force down on the counter, disastrously strong enough for the wood to crack. Wanda jumps in fright, worried, but you grunt quietly. "Shit, I'm really sorry-"
She hurries around the counter, and her soft hands make you jump away. "Hey, it's okay, I just want to help you stand up."
But you gasp in despair, wrenching your body away from her. "Don't touch me, Wanda, for God's sake." You grunt, and if you hadn't sounded so affected, Wanda would have taken offense. Instead, she stands ready to catch you if you lose your balance again, and that's exactly what happens. This time, your weight falls forward, and Wanda's body serves as a barrage. 
Your wolfish weight is almost too much for her, and it doesn't help that your face is buried against her collarbone, and your arms embrace her clumsily. "Hm, so soft." She hears you sigh, as she struggles to drag you over to the reading area of the store's bookshelves, where there's a sofa to put you on. When you fall into the cushions, you look up with dreamy eyes and an easy smile playing on your lips. Wanda gasps softly from exhaustion. 
"Wait here a moment, okay? You feel like you're burning up with a fever. I'll get you some water." She explains, but it doesn't seem like you're listening very much, disconcerting her with the way you're looking at you so discourteously, your pupils dilating. Wanda adjusts a strand of hair, self-conscious under your gaze. "I'll be right back."
She practically runs out of there, and alone, realizing her own hands are trembling as she remembers the sensation of having your body against hers. She shakes her head to push the thought away, you were clearly in a vulnerable moment right now, and Wanda doesn't think she'll survive the shame of being rejected once the heat wears off.
When Wanda returns with the water, she almost drops the glass on the floor. You haven't moved, but you've changed position, limp against the sofa, evidently rubbing yourself down the item as you whimper. 
"Oh, detka, let me help you." Wanda abandons the glass on a shelf, and rushes to your side, kneeling beside the sofa. You gasp in embarrassment, trying to escape her gaze, but Wanda's hands grab your warm face. "Let's go upstairs. I'll make it better." She whispers the invitation, but the thought alone is enough for you to grunt in affection and pull her face towards you. 
It's a hungry kiss, and the position doesn't help. Wanda has to grab your shoulders to keep from falling to the floor and ends up breaking into a giggle when a moment later it's you who's throwing yourself at her, desperately kissing her as if she's going to disappear. 
The lightness disappears quickly. She feels very hot and bothered, especially when your tongue slips into hers as if you already knew exactly how to kiss her, and your hands touch her entire body with determination. Her plea for you to slow down turns into a moan when your knee pushes between her legs.
It's almost primitive the way you seem willing to have her right there on the floor, angrily trying to pull her clothes off while your moans mingle. Wanda's face burns and she struggles to match the kiss, losing that battle all too easily when your palms begin to stimulate her nipples. 
She can feel the wetness begin to bother her through the fabric of her panties, and perhaps, you can smell it too, because you grow more impatient, and begin to murmur disconnected compliments into her skin, your hands reaching down to unzip her pants. Wanda chokes between moans, practically whimpering when your fingers find her so ready. 
You enter her, all at once, without a second thought. You suck on her tongue as she squeezes your fingerprints and soaks your hand. It's dirty and rough, and Wanda couldn't hold back even if she tried. Yet the store door opens, and she has to bite down hard on your shoulder to muffle her own noises.
Whoever the customer is, asking if there's anyone there or if the store is open, Wanda makes sure they don't see her. Her eyes are scarlet, and it's never been harder to do a concealment spell than it is now, with your fingers thrusting inside her as if the world around you hardly mattered. Finally, the customer leaves and her magic plays its part in locking the door before Wanda digs her nails into your back and comes against your fingers.
It's not enough - Nothing seems to be. You continue your movements inside her until Wanda is spasming again, begging for a pause. Your hungry mouth finds its way into her most intimate place then, just to tear more pleasure out of her. She loses count of how many times she comes, on your fingers and tongue, until the whole store smells of sex.
Fuck, she has to move you before Pietro comes back.
It's only when you let her breathe, retreating like a wounded wolf, that Wanda notices the puddle of moisture on your pants. You came at the mere act of watching and touching her. 
"Hey, are you okay, sweetheart?" She coos gently, propping herself up on one elbow now that you're lying on your back, one arm over your face. Your clothes are as torn as theirs, but there are many more marks on her body than on yours. 
You sniffle quietly, and Wanda looks at you with concern. "Why didn't you stop me?" you ask upset, and Wanda stares in shock for a moment. Then, swallowing dryly, she works up the courage:
"You didn't want this?"
But your reaction is to laugh incredulously. "Of course, I wanted it, Wanda! But I'm talking about you. Why didn't you stop me? You're a witch, you could have knocked me down, look at you! You're all purple, and I... God, I can't believe I... hurt you." 
She climbs into your lap before you can despair, ignoring your soft protest and grabbing your crying face. "I haven't stopped you because I've wanted you to since we met." She assures you determinedly, caressing your cheeks. "I'm in love with you, you idiot."
Sniffling softly, you raise hopeful eyes. "Really?"
Wanda smiles, her weight against your chest. "Really." She assures you. "And don't worry about the marks, I... like it rough."
You groan in embarrassment, looking away and amusing her. There's a moment's pause, and then finally: "I like you too."
Wanda bites back a smile. "I got that impression, you know? When you were all whiny on me." 
Your laugh is sincere and shy, and Wanda kisses you as your hands grip her thighs. But before she can deepen it the way she'd like, you break again.
"Thanks for helping with the heat... but I'll take you on a date after this. I promise."
She pulls on your bottom lip with a provocative bite. "I'll charge." She assures you in a naughty whisper, and you sigh contentedly as she presses your hips together. Smooth movements, and you're already seeing stars again. 
Your breathing becomes shorter, and Wanda traces her fingers along your jaw, while her other hand moves down. "I bet you're all warm and tight."
You sigh, closing your eyes and nodding in agreement. Wanda kisses you leisurely, also taking time to slide her fingers into your pants and assess the effects of everything so far. She's not surprised by the immense wetness, but the sensation of sinking into you is overwhelming. She can feel ready for another when she starts to stimulate you and watches you squirm beneath her.
"So good... don't stop..." You moan helplessly, and the grip on her thighs is almost strong enough to hurt. Wanda makes a mental note of how to make you lose control of your strength, before curling her fingers inside you and being rewarded with the sweetest sounds in the world. "W-Wanda!"
She decides she likes it very, very much when you whimper her name like that. She continues her motions a few more times until you come hard on her fingers. Wanda thrusts a few times, before removing them and bringing them to her mouth, sucking them clean while you try to catch a breath. 
Your murmurs are labored, and Wanda kisses your cheek a few times. "Come on upstairs, sweet baby, I'll take care of you." She tries to get up, but your hands steady her on your lap.
It's almost ridiculous how easily you lift the two of you, and Wanda has to hold onto your shoulders, chuckling softly at your uncertain stumbles on the way upstairs. 
She'll have time to look after the store when you fall asleep. Right now, she's more focused on kissing you again.
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