#(but probably will not stop people from trying going forward.)

[meazalykov]

play for the crowd

lauren james x english!influencer!reader : social media + fic

summary: a fake relationship never ends well.. or does it?

warnings: angst, very long chapter

for @pinkyqily + @jackiesunshines

“welcome back to ‘call her daddy,’ babes,” alex starts with her signature grin, leaning closer to the mic. 

“today, we’ve got the it-girl of england sitting across from me. she’s hilarious, she’s fashionable, she’s friends with basically everyone worth knowing—please give it up for y/n!!”

you laugh softly, adjusting your seating in the red fancy chair.

“oh, stop it. you’re hyping me up too much.”

“listen, i only speak the truth on this podcast,” alex replies dramatically, hands gesturing like she’s addressing an audience of thousands. 

“so, let’s just jump right in. your fashion—people are obsessed. i mean, half the girls listening are probably taking notes on your outfit right now as we speak.”

you smile, settling into your seat. 

“i feel like my style is a bit all over the place, to be honest. one day i’ll be in baggy streetwear, the next i’m in a full-on luxury brand look, then i’m in some scandi-inspired minimalism, and before you know it, i’m frolicking in a meadow in a cottagecore dress. i just wear whatever’s cute.”

“so, you’re telling me your closet must look insane.” alex leans forward, clearly intrigued.

“oh, it’s a disaster,” you admit with a laugh. 

“you know when people say, ‘if you can’t see it, you won’t wear it’? yeah, my clothes are in piles. i try to organize, but then i get new stuff, and it’s chaos all over again.”

“and yet you always look put together. how does that even work?”

“magic,” you joke, adjusting your oversized blazer. 

“or maybe just panic dressing.”

alex grins. 

“fair enough. okay, now—this is a call her daddy episode where i am the nosey host, so we have to get into your social life. you’ve got so many famous friends. who’s in your circle? who’s in the inner circle?”

you raise an eyebrow.

“you’re really trying to get the tea, huh?”

“always,” alex says without hesitation. 

“give us something.”

you smirk. 

“well, i’ve got a mix of people, you know? like, models, footballers, actors... it’s a weird little melting pot. i vibe with people who are chill and don’t take life too seriously.”

“what about jude bellingham?” alex’s grin widens, mischief sparkling in her eyes. 

“you’ve been seen with him quite a bit. are we finally getting confirmation here?”

your laugh is immediate, and you shake your head as you roll your eyes playfully. 

“oh my god, no no no absolutely not. jude is not my type at all.”

alex gasps theatrically. 

“wait, hold on. you’re telling me jude bellingham, literal dreamboat that maybe has a million edits of himself, is not your type? do you know how many women would kill for that chance?”

“i’m sure they would,” you reply, still laughing. 

“but, yeah, jude and i are just friends. strictly platonic. in fact, he’s hilarious.”

alex’s eyes narrow in mock suspicion. 

“so, what is your type, then?”

you pause for a moment, knowing the question is loaded. you take a breath, then grin. 

“well, just know that i don’t swing jude’s way.”

alex’s face lights up. 

“ohhh, so you’re into women?” her excitement is palpable.

“yeah,” you say, nodding firmly. 

“i mean, people have speculated for years, so… there you go. confirmed. i like women.”

“iconic,” alex replies, clapping her hands. 

“this is huge!!!! so, do you have a partner? because i feel like everyone’s going to be dying to know now.”

a weight sinks in your chest, but you plaster on a smile. you hate lying, but this is part of the game. 

“i do,” you say carefully, keeping your voice light. 

“but i’m not spilling anything just yet.”

“oh, come on,” alex pleads. 

“not even a little hint?”

you shake your head, laughing softly. 

“nope. but trust me, everyone will know who she is eventually.”

alex groans in mock defeat, throwing her head back. 

“you’re killing me, y/n. absolutely killing me.”

“i gotta keep some mystery, alex,” you tease. 

“otherwise, what’s the fun?”

y/n.l/n

{tagged: yourbsf}

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y/n.l/n hello 2025

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y/nl/nluvr5 SO CUTE

yourbsf ily

ashley_lawrence10 pretty! 🤩

wosofan2719 why are all of the chelsea girls in her likes?? 🫣

user6282 I thought I was the only one who peeped

random12938 after her podcast with alex on friday, I am convinced y/n's girlfriend is known to the public already. you might be onto something since she is already close with english footballers

madelineargy 😍

~view all 2,039 comments~

you’re sitting cross-legged on your plush beige couch, the soft hum of a charli xcx playlist filling the quiet of your london apartment. 

a steaming mug of tea sits on the coffee table, untouched, as you absently scroll through your phone. your eyes flick to the clock—just past noon. you’re waiting on lauren to send over the ticket details for tonight’s chelsea vs. arsenal match, the anticipated london derby.

your stomach twists slightly at the thought. not because of the game—you actually enjoy football. it’s the situation you’ve been thrown into that makes you uneasy. 

a fake relationship. a pr stunt. your team’s bright idea to boost both your profiles. it’s not like you haven’t heard the horror stories: influencer friends venting about staged dates, awkward photoshoots, and scripted chemistry with people they couldn’t stand and hated. 

you swore you’d never do something so fake, yet here you are.

your phone buzzes, snapping you out of your thoughts. it’s a message from lauren.

lauren: hey, just sent your name to the list—tickets will be at will call under 'guest of lj.' fancy title, right?

you smile faintly, typing back.

you: wow, i feel so important. 

you joke. a reply comes almost instantly.

lauren: absolutely. “fake girlfriend to chelsea star.” major clout.

you laugh under your breath, appreciating her humor despite the absurdity of the situation.

you: i can’t lie.. this is all so ridiculous. have you done this kind of thing before?

lauren: nope. first time for me too. i feel like i should apologize in advance if i make this awkward.

you: i was just about to say the same to you. we’ll both be awkward… it’ll balance out.

lauren’s next text takes a second longer to come through.

lauren: for what it’s worth, i know this isn’t ideal. but i promise i’m not a complete nightmare in person like the media can paint me out to be. 

you pause, rereading her message. there’s something about her tone—genuine, almost reassuring. however, you frown at the last part of her message. you have seen the tweets and post that have villainized her about certain situations that have happened between her and other players. you don’t play football, but you understand how intense things can be.

lauren’s genuine personality makes you think that this won’t be as terrible as you’ve been building it up to be.

you: well, if you’re not a nightmare, i guess i can survive one football match. or how ever many as i will need to go to for us. as long as i don’t get smacked with a football in front of your everyone or something.

lauren: if you do, we’ll just blame it on the opposing team.

you laugh again softly, shaking your head. her dry wit feels disarming, and you find yourself a little more curious about meeting her in person. maybe, just maybe, lauren will surprise you.

the cool london air nips at your cheeks as you step out of the car, pulling your brown puffer coat tighter around yourself. the excitement hums through the blue and red crowds gathered outside the chelsea stadium. 

you glance up at the familiar facade, the blue and white banners waving proudly in the breeze. you’ve been here before, more times than you can count, but tonight feels… different.

you make your way through the gates, clutching the ticket lauren organized for you. your name’s on the guest list, which feels oddly official, even though you know it’s all just for show. navigating the stadium is second nature by now—you’ve been here for england matches, screaming alongside the fans, but you’ve never been here for chelsea. 

the thought feels strange, almost disloyal, considering most of your friends are manchester (city and united) fans through and through.

their reactions flash through your mind, the way they nearly lost it when you casually mentioned you were going on a "date" with a chelsea player.

"you’re joking, right? chelsea? you can’t be serious," one had said, barely hiding their disbelief.

"wait, who is it?" another pressed, practically bouncing in their seat. 

"don’t tell me it’s lucy bronze—no, wait, she just transferred here so i don’t think it's her."

you’d shrugged them off, offering nothing but a sly smile. “you’ll find out soon enough,” you’d teased, leaving them to spiral into speculation. you didn’t have the heart—or the nerve—to explain the truth yet. 

not until you’d met lauren in person, not until you knew how this whole fake relationship would pan out.

as you approach the friends and family section, a subtle wave of nervousness rolls over you. this is it—the start of whatever chaotic media circus your teams have orchestrated. you take a deep breath, smoothing the invisible wrinkles on your coat, and step inside.

you wonder if people will question your presence in that section, why you were here by yourself with none of your friends to accompany you. however, you decide to take the next 90 minutes to collect your thoughts while lauren plays her match.

taking your seat, directly where you can see the middle of the pitch, the noise of the crowd fills your ears as you settle. your focus is razor-sharp. your eyes stay locked on lauren as she moves across the pitch with ease, weaving through arsenal's defense like it’s second nature. 

the game already started three minutes ago.. and she’s good…really good. you knew that already, of course, seeing her play live is something else entirely.

you shift in your seat, trying to keep your expression neutral. the plan is simple: be here, watch the match, and appear supportive. it’s harder than you thought to ignore the weight of the cameras that occasionally pan away from the game and land on you instead. 

you know what the headlines will say. you can already picture the tweets that are posting on twitter as your eye move along lauren’s body.

the speculation is what you’re here for. you tap your fingers against the armrest of your seat, trying to drown out the chatter in your head. this is all part of the plan, you remind yourself. 

still, the questions buzzing online are ones you’re not ready to answer. not yet. this isn’t even real after all.

your eyes dart back to lauren. she’s on the ball again, making a sharp run from a sharp pass from lucy that sets up a near-perfect chance. the crowd erupts, and you find yourself caught between genuine admiration for her skill and the uncomfortable reality of why you’re here. with the cameras on you, though, you know better than to let anything too much slip. 

you lean forward slightly, keeping your attention locked on lauren, as though she’s the only thing that matters in the moment.

the game ends with a 2-1 win for chelsea. you stand awkwardly by the fruit stand in the lounge room area, pretending to be invested in the arrangement of grapes and orange slices. the truth is, you feel out of place. 

this isn’t your scene, and it shows. the other friends and family members seem at ease, chatting and laughing like they belong here. you, however, can’t shake the anxiety in your chest. of course, people recognize you—this is england, after all. your face is plastered on magazine covers and social media feeds. here, in this context, you feel more exposed than ever.

you shift your weight from foot to foot, glancing at the clock on the wall. lauren’s team has just wrapped up their post-match debrief, and any minute now, she’ll walk in. the thought doesn’t help your nerves; if anything, it makes them worse. 

you haven’t even met her in person before, yet the entire world will soon think that she’s your girlfriend. the absurdity of it all threatens to make you laugh, but the knot in your stomach keeps you grounded.

you’re about to reach for a piece of pineapple when you feel a light touch on your shoulder. the sensation startles you, and you turn around quickly, almost dropping the toothpick you’re holding.

“i didn’t know you could be so shy, y/n,” lauren says, her tone teasing but warm. she’s standing there, freshly showered, her hair damp and swept back. the post-match attitude has faded, leaving her looking relaxed, but there’s a spark of curiosity in her eyes as she takes you in.

you smile nervously, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your blazer. 

“well, i’m usually not,” you reply, your voice quieter than you intended. 

“but this is… a little out of my comfort zone.”

lauren’s brows raise slightly, and she steps closer, her presence somehow steadying. 

“really? you, out of your comfort zone? that’s hard to believe.”

you glance down, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. 

“it’s different when it’s not my crowd. football people, you know? i’m more used to influencer events or fashion shows, not… this.”

lauren chuckles softly. 

“well, for what it’s worth, you look like you fit right in. maybe too well. people are already whispering about you.”

“great,” you mutter, trying to keep the sarcasm light but unable to mask your discomfort. 

“exactly what i wanted.”

she tilts her head, studying you for a moment. 

“it’ll die down eventually,” she says, her tone more serious now. 

“but i get it. it’s weird, isn’t it? pretending like this? its going to be worse once we have to tell the media.”

you let out a small laugh, more out of relief that she said it than anything else. 

“weird doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you admit. 

“i mean, we haven’t even met before today, and now the world will think that we’re madly in love. it’s ridiculous.”

lauren nods, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. 

“yeah, it is. but hey, we’re in this together, right?.”

you meet her gaze. she’s genuine, at least, and that’s something. “you’re right,” you say softly, your smile more genuine now. 

“i guess we’ll figure it out.”

she grins, and the moment feels strangely natural despite the layers of pretense surrounding it. then she gestures toward the lounge area where the other players’ families are gathered. 

“come on. let’s get you out of the corner. they’re going to think i’m a terrible girlfriend if i leave you standing here alone.”

you laugh, following her lead, the tension still present but slightly eased by her presence. it’s strange, walking beside her, knowing that the world will see something entirely different from what you feel inside. 

for now, you push that thought aside and focus on surviving the night.

lj10

{tagged: y/n.l/n}

liked by y/n.l/n, lucybronze, and 131,216 others

lj10 recent

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random28383 IS THAT WHO I THINK IT ISSS??????

y/nl8vr MY BABY ON THE THIRD SLIDE

chelseafcwfan7 I KNEW IT WAS LAUREN THAT WAS DATING Y/N

❤️ *liked by author*

y/n.l/n 😘😘

user91010 oh that's not..

meazalykov ??

user91010 @/meazalykov i did not expect lauren and y/n no shade..

meazalykov well too bad..

lucybronze hard launch era

catarina_macario 😍😍

~view all 10,378 comments~

the days throughout the next few weeks blur together in a haze of carefully curated social media posts and staged interactions. every picture, every story, every comment feels like a chess move, calculated for the public eye. 

by now, the world has accepted the narrative—lauren james and y/n l/n, england’s newest power couple.

behind the scenes, it’s a different story entirely. you and lauren barely talk, only exchanging the occasional text when coordinating your next “public moment.” it’s efficient, professional even, but cold. 

you can’t help but feel the growing weight of the disconnect between the facade you show the world and the reality of your relationship. or lack thereof.

yet, something about lauren lingers in your mind. she’s kind in the brief moments you’ve interacted—genuine, with a subtle humor that catches you off guard. you’ve noticed how her quiet demeanor shifts when she’s irritated, her sharp gaze and tense shoulders mirroring your own tells when you’re frustrated. 

it’s a trait that feels too familiar, like looking into a mirror.

sitting on your couch late one evening, your phone in hand, you scroll mindlessly through instagram. you pause looking at the instagram story you posted with lauren, staring at the image, at the way lauren’s hand rests casually on your back in the mirror picture. you’d both laughed during that shoot. the memory stirs something in your chest—a quiet ache you can’t quite place.

she’s fascinating in a way you didn’t expect. it’s not just her talent on the pitch or her rising fame; it’s the little things. the way her smile softens when she’s genuinely amused. the thoughtful pauses she takes before she speaks. the way she seems to carry a quiet confidence, even in the chaos of the public’s attention. 

you shake your head, exhaling sharply. this is ridiculous, you tell yourself. the truth is, you want to know her… the real her, not the polished version you’ve pieced together through brief interactions and online impressions. 

you open your messages, your thumb hovering over her name. for a moment, you consider texting her something—anything—to start a conversation. however, the thought of overstepping, of complicating an already convoluted situation, keeps you frozen. 

with a sigh, you lock your phone and toss it onto the couch beside you.

whatever this is, whatever it could be, will have to wait. for now, you’ll stick to the plan, no matter how much your thoughts keep drifting back to lauren.

y/n.l/n

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y/n.l/n good evening

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❤️ *liked by author*

lj10 good evening 😍😍

lucybronze its 11:09am..

y/n.l/n again, good evening lucy bronze

lucybronze good evening ig 😒

catarina_macario 🤩

random2728 lj and y/n having a private but not secret relationship 🥰

user72929 LOVE

random2728 there's something off about this..

random10989 wym?

leahwilliamsonn 😍

~view all 4,290 comments~

the bar is calming, music thrumming in the background as laughter and chatter fill the air. the dim lighting casts a warm glow over the group, everyone mingling and sipping on their drinks. 

you’re perched on a stool near the bar, glancing occasionally at lauren, who’s leaning against the counter, chatting easily with one of her teammates, millie. she looks relaxed, her posture casual, but there’s something about the way her eyes flick to you every so often that has your stomach in knots.

“another drink?” her voice cuts through the noise, her tone light but carrying just enough warmth to catch your attention.

you look up at her, a slight smile tugging at your lips.

“are you trying to get me drunk, lauren?”

she smirks, handing you the glass. 

“maybe. or maybe i just want to make sure you’re having a good time.”

you take a sip, feeling the burn of the alcohol mixed with something sweeter—the way she’s looking at you. 

“thanks,” you murmur. 

“but i can return the favor. what are you drinking?”

“water,” she says simply, holding up her glass. 

“staying hydrated.”

you tilt your head, studying her. 

“water? not even one drink? you’re playing it too safe.”

she shrugs, a playful glint in her eyes. 

“someone has to keep an eye on you.”

you laugh, the sound escaping before you can stop it. 

“oh, so now you’re my babysitter?”

“if that’s what you need,” she fires back smoothly, her grin widening.

there’s a moment, a charged pause, where the noise of the bar seems to fade into the background. lauren’s gaze lingers on you, and you feel your cheeks heat under the intensity of it. 

you lean in slightly, emboldened by the drinks and the energy between you.

“careful,” you tease, your voice dropping just enough to match the tension. 

“someone might think you actually care.”

“and what if i do?” she counters, her tone light but her eyes unreadable.

you blink, caught off guard. the banter feels easy, natural, but there’s something underneath it that feels heavier—real. you search her face for a clue, but she keeps her expression steady, a flicker of amusement playing at the corners of her mouth.

“then i’d say you’re doing a great job convincing everyone here,” you say finally, trying to match her confidence, even as your heart races.

her lips curve into a smirk. 

“convincing you, too?”

your breath catches, and for a split second, you don’t know what to say. she watches you, her expression calm but undeniably smug, as though she knows exactly the effect she’s having on you.

“maybe,” you admit, keeping your voice steady despite the way your pulse thunders in your ears.

she chuckles softly, the sound low and intimate, and it leaves you feeling both flustered and unmoored. then, as if sensing the moment tipping into something too real, she pulls back slightly, raising her glass of water in a mock toast.

“to good acting,” she says, her voice light but her eyes holding yours a beat too long.

you clink your glass against hers, your stomach twisting as you try to discern whether she’s teasing or deflecting. 

as the night wears on, you can’t shake the way her words, her gaze, her presence—all of it—lingers in the back of your mind. was it an act? or was there something more beneath the surface? you don’t know, and the uncertainty gets at you in a way you didn’t expect.

your drink—something sweet and forgettable—sits untouched in front of you, the condensation pooling around the glass on the counter. the room feels alive as you watch your surroundings again, as lauren’s teammates and your friends fill the dance floor, laughing, swaying to the music, completely at ease. 

you, however, feel like a misplaced puzzle piece.

you’re here for a purpose, after all—not to let loose, but to be seen. you and lauren were both instructed to attend, to sit in proximity long enough for someone to notice, snap a photo, and post it online. the public needed to see the happy “couple” out and about, living their seemingly charmed lives. 

that was the plan. it always is. however, something about tonight feels off.. or maybe it’s you that feels off. 

your eyes drift to lauren, who’s sitting a few stools away at this point, talking to sjoeke. lauren’s body language is relaxed, her posture casual, and she exudes that effortless charm you’ve come to associate with her. her laugh carries over the music, soft but genuine, and it’s disarming. 

you’ve seen her in a dozen different settings by now—on the pitch, in interviews, even in those staged photoshoots your teams made you do together—but she always carries the same quiet confidence. 

“why do i care so much about her flirting earlier?” the thought hits you suddenly, and you blink, startled by your own realization. you know you shouldn’t care. it’s not like there’s anything real between you two. this is business, nothing more. 

you’re about to take a sip of your drink when movement catches your eye. a brunette woman, her steps uneven and her smile a little too wide, weaves her way through the crowd and makes a beeline for lauren. 

she stops next to her, leaning on the counter for balance before sliding onto the stool beside her. 

at first, you think nothing of it. people approach lauren all the time; it comes with the territory of her being a footballer.. then you notice the way the woman leans in, her body language screaming flirtation. 

even over the music, you catch snippets of her words. 

“i’ve been watching you all night,” the brunette says, her voice slurred but still clear enough to make your chest tighten. 

you force yourself to look away, focusing instead on the condensation trailing down your glass. but your attention snaps back when you hear lauren laugh—a soft, polite chuckle that quickly morphs into something warmer. she’s flirting back. 

it’s subtle, nothing overt, but it’s enough to make your stomach churn.

you grip the edge of your stool, willing yourself to stay calm. this doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. this isn’t real. lauren is a footballer—a brilliant, talented, and undeniably attractive one. of course people are drawn to her. of course she’s going to flirt back.

you remind yourself that you’re just the one her pr team picked for this charade. nothing more. 

the tightness in your chest refuses to go away. watching lauren lean in closer to the brunette, her smile softening, feels like a punch to the gut and worse, it makes you question things you don’t want to question. 

like why you even care in the first place.

the noise of the bar feels suffocating, and before you know it, you’re sliding off the stool and heading toward the bathroom. the music dulls as you push through the door, and the quieter space is a welcome reprieve.

then, your eyes land on zion and amber. 

your two friends are tucked into a corner of the bathroom, lost in their own world. amber’s hands are tangled in zion’s hair, and zion’s lips are pressed firmly against amber’s. they don’t even notice you until the door clicks shut behind you. 

zion pulls back first, her face flushed. “y/n?” she asks, stepping forward. 

“you okay?”

you hesitate, the weight of the night pressing heavily on your chest. you don’t want to talk about it, but the lump in your throat makes it clear that you need to. 

“not really,” you admit, your voice quieter than you intended.

amber straightens, exchanging a quick glance with zion before walking over to you. 

“what’s going on?” she asks, concern evident in her tone.

just like that, everything comes pouring out. the fake relationship, the constant public scrutiny, the pressure to perform for an audience you didn’t ask for. you tell them about the brunette at the bar, how lauren flirted back, and how much it hurt even though it shouldn’t have. when you’re done, you feel a little lighter, but the knot in your chest remains.

zion crosses her arms, her brow furrowed in thought. 

“y/n,” she says carefully, “are you… catching feelings for lauren?”

the question hangs in the air, heavy and uncomfortable. your first instinct is to deny it, to brush it off as ridiculous. but the truth gnaws at you, undeniable and unrelenting. you don’t say anything, which is answer enough.

amber steps closer, placing a hand on your arm. “look,” she says gently, “you need to figure this out. either you tell her how you feel and end this whole fake thing, or you set some serious boundaries before you get hurt.”

you nod slowly, the reality of her words settling over you like a weight. “yeah,” you murmur. 

“you’re right.”

as you stand there, staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, the question lingers in your mind. 

how did i even let this happen?

the days pass in a haze of avoidance and overthinking. 

you bury yourself in work, content for tiktok, and anything else that keeps you busy enough to ignore the fluttering in your chest every time you think of lauren. it’s not hard to avoid her; after all, your only real interactions have been the orchestrated ones... lunches, coffee dates, the occasional walk in the park, all designed to feed the narrative. 

without the need for those, you manage to keep your distance.

your phone buzzes occasionally with texts from lauren. nothing accusatory or probing, just polite questions about when your next outing is or casual jokes about how your pr teams must be getting impatient about when the next outing will be. 

each message makes your stomach twist, the guilt poking at you. she doesn’t deserve to be avoided, but you can’t bring yourself to face her right now.

the bathroom conversation at the bar replays in your head on a loop. amber’s words, “set boundaries or tell her how you feel,” echo louder with each passing day. it feels like you’ve done neither, stuck somewhere in limbo, unsure of what to do. 

all you know is that seeing lauren flirt with someone else hurt more than it should have. and now, it’s painfully clear why.

you caught feelings. 

the realization had hit you like a train that night, leaving you panicked. you’ve spent years building walls around yourself, keeping relationships at arm’s length, unwilling to let anyone in after your last heartbreak. yet here you are, feelings growing for someone who isn’t even truly yours. 

lauren’s face lingers in your mind far more often than you’d like. the chelsea player’s quiet humor, her thoughtfulness, the way her smile lights up when she’s genuinely happy.. it’s all etched into your brain, no matter how much you try to push it away. 

the worst part? you know this is going nowhere. fake relationships don’t magically become real, and even if they did, there’s no guarantee lauren feels the same.

you sit on your couch, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. the notifications pile up—comments on your latest post, messages from friends, an email from your team about your next public appearance. 

you can’t bring yourself to focus on any of it. all you can think about is how scared you are that you’ve made a mistake, one that’s far too late to undo.

hours later.. around midnight.. you’re curled up on your couch, a soft blanket draped over your legs as you dig into a bowl of rice and chicken. the dim glow of the tv lights up the room, the suspenseful soundtrack of squid game filling the air. 

it’s the perfect distraction, engrossing enough to keep your thoughts at bay, even if just for a little while.

then, a faint knock interrupts the quiet. at first, you assume it’s coming from the show, but when it happens again, you freeze. your eyes flick to the door. you weren’t expecting anyone, and frankly, you’ve been avoiding everyone for the last few days. 

the knocking persists, steady and deliberate, until you reluctantly pause the show and get up.

your heart races as you peek through the peephole. the sight of lauren standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of her hoodie, sends your mind spiraling. 

what is she doing here? how did she get my address?

you open the door slowly, your confusion evident. 

“lauren?” you ask, your voice wary. 

“what are you doing here? how did you even know where i live?”

she offers a small smile, almost sheepish. 

“hey. i asked madeline. hope that’s okay.”

you step aside, letting her in despite your confusion at why she would go so far to ask your mutual friend what your address was. lauren looks around, her eyes landing on the paused screen of squid game. 

“season two?” she asks, nodding toward the tv. 

“is it any good? haven’t had the chance to watch it yet because of training.”

“so far, yeah,” you reply, your tone cautious. 

“like the first season. but… why are you here?”

she turns to face you, her expression soft but serious. 

“i came to talk to you. you’ve been avoiding everyone.. me included.. and it’s not like you. i just want to make sure you’re okay.”

you try to brush it off, waving a hand dismissively. 

“i’m fine. just needed some space, that’s all.”

lauren doesn’t budge. she crosses her arms, tilting her head slightly. 

“come on, y/n. i know something’s wrong. you can’t just disappear like that and expect no one to notice.”

you let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. 

“what does it matter? you probably have a real date to get to or something.”

she frowns, her brows knitting together. 

“what are you talking about? i don’t have a real date. why would you say that?”

your heart pounds in your chest, but you push forward, your voice tinged with frustration. 

“do you have a real partner, lauren? someone you’re seeing while we’re doing this… this fake thing?”

lauren’s confusion deepens. 

“what? no. where is this even coming from?”

the tension boils over, and before you can stop yourself, the words spill out. 

“because it’s driving me insane, lauren! this whole fake relationship thing.. it’s messing with my head. i can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s not just for the cameras or the public or whatever. i caught feelings, okay? within these few months of pretending to be your girlfriend, i somehow…. god, i don’t even know. i like you and i know that’s not part of the plan, so if this makes things too complicated, we can stop. i get it.”

the room goes quiet, your words hanging heavily in the air. lauren’s eyes widen, and for a moment, you brace yourself for rejection. but then her expression shifts… softening into something that looks like relief.

“wait,” she says, stepping closer. 

“are you serious?”

you nod, your heart in your throat. 

“yeah. and if that’s too much, just say the word, and we can call this off. i’ll tell the pr team about the situation myself.”

lauren shakes her head quickly. “no, no. you’re not calling anything off.” her voice is steady, her gaze locked onto yours. 

“if we’re going to stop the fake relationship, it’s only because we’re starting a real one.”

your brows knit together, confusion washing over you. 

“what are you saying?”

she takes a breath, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile. 

“i’m saying that i’ve caught feelings too. you’re kind, funny, and beautiful.. completely yourself no matter the situation. you’re the kind of person who i love spending my time with, even for something as ridiculous as a fake relationship, this has been the best part of my year.”

you stare at her, your brain struggling to catch up. 

“you… like me?”

“yeah,” she says, her smile widening. 

“i like you, y/n. for real, nothing fake.”

the tension in your chest finally loosens, replaced by something warm and overwhelming. 

“so, what do we do now?”

lauren grins, her expression brighter than you’ve ever seen it. 

“first, i’m calling the pr team and telling them we’re done with this fake stuff. after that, we’ll figure it out. together.”

you let out a breathy laugh, relief washing over you. 

“okay. yeah. let’s do that.”

she glances at the tv, her grin turning playful. 

“before that, can we watch the rest of this? i’ve been meaning to start season two.”

you laugh, gesturing to the couch. 

“sure, but you’re sharing my blanket.”

lauren plops down beside you, pulling the blanket over her legs as the two of you settle in. for the first time in weeks, everything feels right.

also real.. 

masterlist

happy very early birthday aj 😆

[gojoidyll]

There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair

Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader

Chapter 12 | Jing Yuan

Summary | You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, your own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey!

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“Good evening, princess.”

Without much time to relax or breathe when Blade left to go to the Emperor, another had entered the infirmary. You recognized him easily. He was the main physician that cared for people here. Luocha.

Bringing up the blankets close to your face as a sort of barrier between you and the man, you nodded to him, “h- hello… are you… that Emperor that that guard had mentioned?”

Luocha chuckled as he came to your bedside, “no, no. I’m a doctor, a healer of sorts. Now, princess, how are you feeling? Is there any pain anywhere?”

Taking a moment to think things over, you were glad that everything was working so well so far. Though, truthfully, you haven’t once talked to Luocha before, so you weren’t sure just how perceptive he was, so the amnesia act must go on.

“A little… mainly in my legs, back, and a dull throb in my head.”

Luocha nodded, “and can you remember anything?”

You shook your head, “I- I can’t,” for more of an effective you tried to think of something sad so your eyes could start watering, and just as the tears started to form Luocha was quick to try to comfort you which was surprising to say the least.

“Don’t cry, princess, we don’t have to talk about your lost memory, alright? Let’s focus on something else.”

You nodded and just as Luocha brought out a small handkerchief, probably to wipe your tears, but before he could hand it to you, the infirmary door opened again, and Blade stepped through… with the Emperor coming in right after.

“Why is she crying,” Blade asked.

Luocha bowed, “I’m afraid it’s my fault, I asked her if she could remember anything, and I guess all the stress has finally gotten to her. My apologies.”

Without a word, Jing Yuan stepped forward and took the handkerchief from Luocha’s hand, and when he walked over to you, you couldn’t deny the fear that strikes through your veins as you scooted away, your back hitting the headboard as Jing Yuan sat on the edge of the bed and reached for you.

But all you could see was the striking arch of his blade swinging down.

However, instead of feeling that cold, electrifying metal glide straight through your body like it was made of paper, you felt a warm, calloused hand gently cup your cheek. The handkerchief cloth then lightly being applied to your dampened skin.

You trembled within his hold as he wiped away your tears. A part of you still disbelieving as he gently cleaned you up. It was such a stark contrast to your other meetings with him.

Once your tears were dried, Jing Yuan tossed the handkerchief back to Luocha, “leave us.”

Bowing almost immediately, Luocha took his leave. Though, Blade hesitated for a moment.

“That goes for you as well, Blade.”

Blade only gave a stiff nod before leaving. Your mind was a bit confused at the interaction. Blade has never done that before. He was always quick to follow Jing Yuan’s orders after all.

When you and Jing Yuan were finally alone, you half expected him to tell you to drop the act, but the words never came. Instead, his steel-like focus was solely on you, and not once were you able to stop your shaking, trembling form because of it.

His hand that was cupping your cheek moved to gently caress your face before he let his palm fall away from you.

“Princess.”

“Y- yes,” your voice wobbled slightly.

“Do you know how I am?”

“The- the Emperor?”

He smiled at your answer, “and my name?”

You shook your head, “no,” that one word was a mere quiet whisper that fell from your lips. This was way different than before. Not once had Jing Yuan ever asked anyone to leave you two alone. There was always a third-party present.

“My name is Jing Yuan.”

You nodded.

“Do you know your name?”

“I don’t… everyone only calls me by that princess title.”

Jing Yuan chuckled softly at your response and told you what your name was, and before he could say anything else, you spoke first even though that same fear still coursed through you.

“Is it true?”

“What is?”

“That- that we’re supposed to be getting married to one another?”

He hummed at that question, “we are, yes. You’re my fiancé, in fact.”

His hands moved down to your own, his fingertips lightly brushing at your knuckles as he tried to coax you to let go of the blanket, and once you did, he let his fingers slip into your palm before intertwining both his and your fingers together.

“I- I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I don’t remember anything much less being your fiancé.”

“That’s alright, I’m sure your memory will come back in time.”

You panicked then, was he really dead set on this marriage then?! You didn’t let your inner turmoil show as you looked at your intertwined hands, “how did we end up together?”

“I met you at your father’s castle. The moment I saw you, I knew you were the one.”

You resisted the urge to pull your hand away from his.

“Did I tell you much about myself? Anything you can remember? I- I mean, if you want to tell me, of course. It’s just- it might help me remember,” you rambled a bit, your nerves quickly acting up, but Jing Yuan was quick to ease you, surprising as it sounds.

“I know that your favorite color is (color), and that you like to eat (favorite food),” he started to list off a few things, each detail surprising you more than before because… he was right on all of them, but you never told him any of this, so how-? How was it that he seemed to know you so well?!

And as your conversation with the Emperor continued, Luocha had returned at some point to prescribe you some sort of pain relief drink that you will need to take every morning and even said that you will be able to go back to your room. Which was a blessing, well, until Luocha left once more, and Jing Yuan stood up as well just as the infirmary door closed.

“Shall we?”

His hand was still intertwined with your own as you nodded. He was probably going to lead you back to your room, much to your relief. However, as you stood up the pain in your legs was way more than you previously thought as you left out a small cry of pain and stumbled forward.

Luckily, Jing Yuan had already caught you before you could fall face first to the floor, and before you could apologize, he had lifted you up causing a gasp to leave your lips as he moved to hold you in a bridal carry. Scrambling in his grasp, you hadn’t noticed that you had wrapped your arms around his neck until you turned your head to look at him, and not realizing that he was looking at you too, your lips had accidentally brushed against his own.

You reacted quickly as you pulled away, “I- I’m so sorry!”

And as you looked at him, it was like it took a moment for your words to register in his head as his eyes seemed to have a far away look in his eyes, but before you could say anything else, he smiled at you.

“You don’t need to apologize for something like that.”

You nodded as he fixed his hold on you and moved to exit the infirmary, and just as you were about to ask him if he wanted you to open the door for him, he had called out to Blade, and just as he did, the door opened. Blade seemingly had been guarding the infirmary this entire time.

“Come along.”

The walk to your room was silent and whatever you did, you just couldn’t get your body to relax within his hold. Your tension not going unnoticed by the Emperor, but luckily he didn’t say anything.

“Here we are.”

Looking towards the door and then back up at Jing Yuan’s face you asked, “do we… not sleep in the same room?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard, but he was quick to recover, “before we had agreed not to share a room until after we are married, however, maybe sleeping in the same room will hasten your memories to come back sooner rather than later.”

You were quick to shake your head as you ducked your chin down to avoid eye contact, “n- no, we can- we can wait until we’re married- if- if you still want to marry me.”

Having Blade open your bedroom door, Jing Yuan had walked in with you still in his arms. His steps easily carry you to your bed, but before he set you down, he had leaned into you. His lips pressing softly to your forehead causing you to freeze up again.

“Get some rest, I’ll see you at breakfast in the morning. Your maids will come assist you in getting ready tomorrow,” he said to you as he set you down.

“Al- alright, thank you Emper-,” before you could finish he had stopped you, his thumb pressing firmly against your lips.

“My name.”

Nodding to him, he had brought his hand away, “thank you…. Yuan.”

The shortening of his name seemed to catch him off guard again, but just as before his recovery was as swift as the wind, and he delivered his goodnight to you just as easily before leaving your room.

And once you were finally alone, you flopped back into your mattress. Jing Yuan was acting off, but you knew better. As long as you stayed on your toes and kept at it, you knew that you would be able to make it home.

“Blade.”

“Yes?”

“Has Dan Heng apprehended the maid responsible?”

“He has.”

“Good.”

“Do you want him to take care of her?”

“No, I’ll kill the maid myself.”

taglist pt 1

@danae-misfortune @frogsasfrogs @openthenyoor01 @zuhaine @ughlostmyotherac @joyfulnightprincess @thechibifoxcub @ceaether @satanisasofties @thetwinkims @yanrandom @honeybunbunn @superdonkeypatroleggs @ohmyfinggod @baboon-milk333 @zareri @kclremin @rains-mae @yccoffeesimp @bloomiesty @moon-taffy @superdark-soul @pinkismyfavcolor @isa-l0v3r @its-astrotea-love @reapersan @junephantom21 @erisfayred @greyrain23 @justadekusimp @uzxotic @alisstaa @avalordream @unlivingdisaster @pix-stuff @sleepyxion14 @pillows-blankets @anicega @junni-berry @niaainthere @sorachitsuki @dyingsweetmackerel @rosariymchapter @immahuman @fluffy-koalala @momoniq @orphiclueur @insightedly

[starlost-maniac]

My Significant Bother - Ch 1

Warnings/genre: SMUT, piv, unprotected sex (don't do it), mxf, mxm, some angst if you squint, unrequited love(?), Mean Jisung (kinda?) I probably missed some (I'll eventually remember all the tags -_-)

Pairing: MinSung x fem!reader

dividers made by @cafekitsune

"Tell me again why I'm here." You say in your boyfriend's ear before leaning back, giving him a look, drink in hand.

"Because it's my best friend's birthday, you promised me you'd go out more and you love me." He smiles at you, talking over the music blaring in the club. "Plus.." He leans back a bit more, looking you over. "You look so damn gorgeous." You smile and roll your eyes.

"I would hope I do, Minho. You picked the dress out." You take a sip of your drink. He chuckles, looking you over again. The dress was black with mint accents, the top was strapless and had a deep v cut, showing off plenty of cleavage. The dress stopped at your ankles, hugging the curves of your chest, waist and hips perfectly before becoming more flowy from mid thigh.

"You always do, kitten." He places his hands on your hips, pulling you close. He leans down to kiss you. Just as his lips land on yours, you hear the DJ announce over the music, "The birthday boy is here!"

You groan into Minho's mouth and pull away, rolling your eyes as Jisung strolls into the club. He greets people along the way to you and Minho. You take another sip of your drink and turn around in Minho's arms, leaning back against him. He leans forward some, wrapping his arms around your waist just under your breasts.

"Please try to be civil, kitten. I know you don't like him, but just for today?" He whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek. You groan out before letting out a quiet 'fine'. Minho smiles. "Good kitten." He stands up straight and holds you close.

When Jisung gets to you and Minho, he glares at you and groans. "Hyung, why did you invite this…" He gestures to you without breaking eye contact with your boyfriend.

"Jisung, I've asked her to be civil for your birthday. Can't you be nice today?" He gives you a gentle squeeze. Jisung huffs before looking at you. He looks you over, staring at your chest for longer than he needed before looking back into your eyes.

"Thanks for coming…I guess." He crosses his arms.

"And, Jisung?" You feel Minho chuckle against your back.

"And..you look very…not ugly today." Jisung huffs. You roll your eyes and sip your drink again.

"So how's your birthday so far man?" Minho asks, gently rubbing your ribs with his fingers.

"Good, great honestly. Got a new job at an office. Better pay and shorter commute too." Jisung says, waving the bartender down. You end up blocking out the rest of what he says.

You look out over the crowd, slowly sipping on your drink. You see a group of your girl friends from school come inside. They were part of your friend circle from school, that—unfortunately—Jisung was part of too. You and Jisung were not friends. You were the farthest thing from friends. He always picked on you throughout school, but stopped most of the bullying when Minho came into the picture. Minho was a new transfer and he joined your clique pretty quick. He got really close to both you and Jisung. Minho ended up asking you to your senior prom and asked you to be his girlfriend the same night. You've been dating since then.

You turn around in Minho's arms and step up on your toes to reach Minho's ear. "I see some girls from school. I'm going to say hi and mingle, maybe dance some."

"Ok, baby. Just be careful out there." He says back. "Don't want some random guy thinking he can have a chance with you. Especially since the girls are almost on full display." He chuckles, gently grazing his hands over your breasts, his fingers playfully following the v cut.

"I know, love. Only for you." You wink at him before kissing his cheek. You walk off to join your friends, their cheers can just be heard over the music. Minho chuckles and sits on one of the stools at the bar, watching you.

"Honestly, hyung, you could do so much better than her. There's a club full of hot girls here that would love to be under you. Probably a few dudes too." He laughs out. He leans back against the bar counter next to Minho.

"Nah. No way, Ji. She's honestly it. I've been with her for 7 years. I can't give her up now." He smiles, watching you dance with your friends. His gaze shifts over to Jisung, a mischievous smirk on his face. "Why do you say that, though? You jealous?" He chuckles.

"What? Hyung, ew. No. First off, she's definitely not my type. Second, she's your girlfriend." He gives Minho a look. "Plus, I may have slept around in college, but I never slept with a taken person…on purpose." He takes a sip of his drink, gaze shifting back to the crowd before landing on you.

"Jisung. I've heard you talk in your sleep. You've said her name so many times over the years." Minho laughs. Jisung rolls his eyes.

"Like you haven't dreamt of your enemies before." He turns, calling the bartender over again for a few shots.

"Oh I have. I definitely have, but not like that, and I don't moan their name with a full hard-on in my sleep." Minho wiggles his eyebrows at his best friend. Jisung just makes a disgusted face. Minho laughs and pats his friend on the back before shifting his gaze back to you. "Honestly though, Ji. I wouldn't mind it. I trust and love you both. You're both the most important people in my life." Minho shrugs. "I'd love it if you both got closer and stopped fighting so much."

You look over at Minho and wave, dancing with your friends. Your girl friends wave to him too. He chuckles and waves back before blowing you a kiss. He couldn't believe how incredibly lucky he felt to have you in his life.

"I love you, too, hyung. You're really important to me, too." Jisung turns around, facing the crowd again. He leans back against the bar and sips on a drink. It's quite between the two for a few moments before Jisung's eyebrows scrunch together and he slowly looks at Minho. "Wait. Did you imply that you wouldn't mind if Y/n and I fucked?"

"Yeah?" The older laughs. "You and I fucked a few times in high school before Y/n and I got together, too. She knows and it didn't really bother her. Maybe if you two fucked, it'll get some of that pent up anger you two have out." Minho shrugs, chuckling. Jisung squints at his hyung. "Plus, I'm sure it'd be pretty hot. Watching my girlfriend get railed by my best friend."

"Right…let's just enjoy the party. It's only a few more hours until my birthday is over." Jisung downs a shot quickly. "I'm going to go find someone to dance with." He goes out into the crowd. Minho watches and laughs.

You and your girl friends come up not long after, you immediately go into Minho's open arms. The girls and Minho catch up for a bit. Jisung comes back after a while. He smiles at the girls and thanks them for coming to his birthday party. They hugged him and kissed his cheek before going back onto the dance floor.

You all enjoy the party for a few more hours before you and Minho are ready to head home. Jisung does one more round of shots with some people before he leaves with you and Minho. Jisung gets in the back seat and lays down, wasted. You got in the passenger seat as you've had a few drinks and were definitely tipsy. Minho buckles you in and kisses your cheek. Once he gets in and buckles his belt, he drives to the house that he and Jisung own. Minho asked you to move in prior, but you declined, saying soon.

Minho drives carefully, trying to not make you or Jisung sick in the car. Parking the car, he got out and went to your side, opening the door for you. You smile at him and get out.

"Are you ok to walk, kitten?" He holds your hand.

"I should be ok. I'll wait for you in the bedroom." He nods and kisses your cheek softly. He opens the back door of the car and carefully gets Jisung out as you walk inside. After pulling Jisung out of the car, he carefully closes the door with his foot and goes inside. He brings Jisung to his room and carefully sets him on the bed. He takes the younger boy's shoes, shirt and pants off, rolling his eyes when he finds out Jisung wasn't wearing boxers. He dresses the boy in a pair of pajama pants and covers him with his blanket before leaving to go to his own room.

Minho finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling on your phone. He smiles and walks over to you, kneeling in front of you. You set your phone down and smile back at him. He slowly slides his hands up your left leg and under your dress, gently grabbing the thigh high stockings you wore. He slowly starts to slide it down your leg, not breaking eye contact with you. You shiver when his fingers gently touch your skin. He slips the stocking off before repeating with your right leg.

Standing up, he holds his hand out to you, helping you stand up. Once you stand, he turns you around and unzips your dress for you.

"So gorgeous in this dress.." He slips it off your body, letting it fall to the ground, leaving you in just your panties. "So gorgeous without." He leans down as he wraps his arms around you, softly kissing your neck. "How did I get so lucky with you, kitten? All those other guys vying for your attention.." he breaths against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "And I'm the one that won your heart over." He kisses up your neck to just under your ear, the tip of his nose ghosting your skin.

"You made me feel safe.." you breathe out, eyes closing. One of Minho's hands moves up to gently cup your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze. His other hand sliding down to the hem of your panties.

"Mm..I'll always keep you safe." He kisses behind your ear. "Let's go shower, my love." He slips his fingers into your panties, laying his hand flat against your belly before slipping his fingers back out, letting you go completely, making you whine softly at the loss of contact. You follow him out of his room and into the bathroom as he strips himself of his clothes on the way, starting the shower when he enters the bathroom. You slip your panties off, dropping them on the bathroom floor.

Stepping behind him as he was checking the water temperature, you wrap your arms around him, putting your hands on his pecs. You press your body right against him, your breasts squished against his back. He chuckles when you playfully squeeze his pecs a few times. He reaches down behind himself, playfully reaching for your core. You giggle and back away some.

"Mm, kitten wants to be playful it seems." He turns around and quickly grabs you, pulling you right against him. Wrapping his arms around you, he picks you up and wraps your legs around his waist. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck and he steps into the shower. He grins and steps under the water, getting you wet first.

"Kitten is wet in more than one place now." He chuckles and you stick your tongue out at him. "Don't stick that tongue out at me, kitten, unless you plan on using it." He smirks at you. You smile and lean down, slotting your lips with his, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He groans softly and you feel his dick twitch under you. He gently grips your ass a little as you make out. He gently readjusts you so he can slide his cock inside you, making you moan in his mouth. He pulls away with a smirk.

"Such a good kitten, taking me so well." He presses your back against the wall, bottoming out in you. "Who's good kitten are you, baby?"

"Ahh..yours..yours Minho. Only yours." You moan, feeling every inch of him that slips in you, filling you up.

"Good girl." You clench around him at the praise. He chuckles and leans down, attaching his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking marks onto your skin. He slowly starts to fuck up into you, gripping your ass. You moan out, tilting your head for him. Your nails gently run along his skin, the stream of water hitting his back making his skin slick.

He chuckles against your neck as he thrusts hard into you, making you gasp and moan. He kisses along your skin, leaving occasional marks. He leaves enough with the knowledge you'll have to cover them up come Monday. He grins as he picks up his pace, thrusting into you hard and fast. He coos at you when you moan and whimper. He can feel you getting close as you clench around him more.

"You gonna cum for me, kitten? Gonna be a good girl and cum around my hard cock?" He whispers in your ear, making you shiver despite being in a hot shower.

"Yes..yes. Wanna cum…" You arch your back, pressing your breasts against him. He grinds deep into you and you moan his name, cunt clenching around him hard as you cum. Minho latches onto your neck again and bites and kisses as he fucks you through your high before cumming deep into you.

"Good girl. Such a good kitten." He coos, peppering your face with kisses as you come down from your high, making you let out a breathy giggle. He helps you stand up, sliding out of you. "Let's get you cleaned up and head to bed. How's that sound baby?" He steps back under the stream, pulling you with him. You nod, getting sleepy. Minho smiles and carefully washes you and himself. He turns the water off and steps out of the cubicle. He wraps a towel around his waist and grabs a towel for you, drying you off.

Once you're back in his bedroom, he tosses on a pair of shorts to sleep in and grabs you a silky set of pajamas to sleep in, knowing they're one of your favorites. You lay in bed and cuddle up to him.

"Thank you for coming to Jisung's birthday party, kitten." He kisses your head.

"Of course, baby. I went for you, though." You cuddle as close to him as possible.

"I know, but still. Thank you." He rubs your back. "I do still hope that you two can be more friendly towards each other."

"Mm." You yawn, sleep finally taking you over. Minho smiles softly and kisses your head again. A few minutes pass and he hears a quiet knock on his bedroom door. He looks over and sees Jisung peeking his head through the door. Minho raises an eyebrow at him as the younger boy walks in and quietly shuts the door. He walks over to Minho's side of the bed and climbs in behind him.

"Sorry hyung. My room is cold and you're warm." Jisung said. He still sounded drunk, but could just be sleepy too. Minho laughs softly, trying not to wake you.

"You're fine. Just don't wake kitten." He whispers. Jisung nods a little, moving close to Minho. Minho chuckles a little as Jisung's hard on was pressed right against him. He sometimes forgets that his friend gets really horny when drunk. Jisung lays his head against Minho's back, the older man settles in, holding you close before he falls asleep himself.

——

Minho wakes up early the next morning, you and Jisung are still fast asleep in his bed. He carefully gets up, making sure not to jostle either of you, before leaving his room to use the bathroom then heading to the kitchen to make breakfast.

You turn over in your sleep, onto your side, facing away from the boy in Minho's bed. Jisung moves in his sleep as well, looking for Minho's warmth. He moves across the bed, finding you. He wraps his arm around you, thinking that you were his friend. You both sleep a little longer until Jisung wakes up, pressed right against you. He inhales deeply, smelling Minho's shampoo on you.

Jisung stretches and cuddles into you a bit more, thinking that you were Minho. He stays like that for a bit before he realizes that he's in Minho's bed, with you and not Minho, morning wood present, pressed against your ass. He scrambles out of the bed and lands on the floor with a thud, waking you up. You sit up and look around before you see him on the floor, hair a mess. You roll your eyes before glaring at him.

"What are you doing in here, Jisung? Minho put you in your bed last night." You cross your arms under your chest.

"I got cold and Minho-hyung usually lets me sleep in his bed when I'm cold." He snaps back, trying to hide his obvious morning wood. You roll your eyes again and get up out of bed. You leave the bedroom and head to the kitchen where you hear your boyfriend cooking. You walk up to Minho at the stove. You wrap your arms around his waist and lay your head on his back.

"Good morning, baby. Did you let Jisung sleep in bed with us last night?" You ask, interlocking your fingers around him.

"Mhmm. He said he was cold so he slept behind me. He usually does it when you aren't here, but he would have still been a little drunk." Minho says, flipping a pancake.

"Mm." You stay like that for a moment before letting go to get a drink. Jisung walks out when you get to the fridge, hair no longer a mess. He was still shirtless, his skin flawless, v-line on full display as he wore his sleep pants low.

"You're staring, Y/n." Jisung says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look away from him and grab your juice from the fridge.

"No I wasn't." You pour yourself a cup, putting the container back in the fridge.

"Sure you weren't. I didn't see it with my own two eyes." He says dryly, rolling his eyes. "I know I'm hot, but don't stare." You turn your head to glare at him, taking a sip of your drink before walking back to Minho. Your boyfriend plates up some pancakes and looks at you, a soft smile on his face.

"Can you bring this to the table, kitten?" He holds up a plate full of pancakes. You nod and take it from him. You bring it to the table, Jisung immediately taking one and biting half of it, his cheeks puffing up like a squirrel. You roll your eyes, going back to stand with Minho.

"Oh, baby." You look up at him, he lets out a soft 'hmm?'. "You remember my friend, Felix? You met him at last year's Christmas party. It's his birthday today."

"I remember. I sent him a gift basket of baking recipes and the like last week as an early gift. We talked a lot during that party." Minho looks at you and smiles. He leans down and pecks your lips. Jisung makes a gagging sound and Minho just chuckles.

"Don't be jealous, Jisung. I know kitten is beautiful, but no reason to be jealous." Minho winks at his friend. Jisung makes another gagging sound. "Just think about what we talked about last night, if you remember what I said." He laughs before plating up more food, taking it to the table. Jisung shakes his head and sits at the table and eats with you and Minho.

——

The following Monday, you were at work. You worked at a company that helped promote idols, whether it was making images or trailers/videos, or anything that they needed, your company did it all. You worked with Felix, Hyunjin and Changbin out of a closed off office on your floor. You were the team leader for this specific section, but still answered to Chan, the manager of the floor. Chan had called your team into the meeting room for a quick meeting.

"Y/n, Felix, Changbin, Hyunjin. I called you in to let you know that we have a new employee, and I'm assigning him to your team." He sits back in his seat. "You're the best team I have here, so I know you'll do great with a new body on hand." You nod at him. He turns towards the door and waves his hand, indicating for the new hire to come in.

You turn in your seat, smile on your face as you're excited to see who your new coworker was, just for the smile to fade as soon as you see Jisung walk in. He steps inside and freezes upon seeing you. He swallows and steps up to the table that you are all sat at.

"This is our new employee, Han Jisung. Jisung, this is Y/n, our team leader of the group you'll be working for, Changbin, Hyunjin and Felix." Chan says, indicating to each of the boys as he stands from his seat. "Y/n will show you to your desk, and will give you the rundown of how we do things, and if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask her." Chan smiles and leaves the meeting room. You sat there, still shocked. The other three members of your team all get up to greet their new member. Jisung greets them back, trying to hide his shock.

You stand up and look at Jisung. "Follow me, Jisung. I'll show you around the office." You leave the meeting room, Jisung follows behind not long after. You showed him some of the other offices on your floor, all managed by Chan, where the bathrooms were and where the break room was. You showed him where Chan's office was, his secretary and assistant's desks outside his office. You introduce Seungmin and Jeongin to Jisung before taking him back to your office where your team had already come back to.

"This is where you'll be sitting." You point to a desk at the end of the layout, opposite of where you sit. There were a few other empty desks closer to you, but you didn't really want him near you.

"Understood." He was trying to be professional in front of the others. By the time he settled in, it was time for lunch. You usually went to lunch with your team, so being cordial, you offered to take Jisung out. He looked at you, suspiciously, making you roll your eyes.

"I usually go to lunch with my team. You don't have to go." You stand up and grab your jacket.

"She really does, Jisung. She enjoys spending time with the team, even if she doesn't show it." Felix says, teasing you. You smile and roll your eyes again.

"If you're coming, then come. If not, then don't." You walk out of the office behind the other boys. Jisung hesitates for a moment before grabbing his coat and following behind you. It was Felix's turn to decide, and he wanted tteokbokki. You follow Felix to a table, sitting next to him with Changbin on your other side, Hyunjin across from Felix and Jisung across from you. You all place your order and sit quietly. Jisung chances a glance at you and sees your eyes flick to him. He makes a disgusted face and looks away from you.

Jisung chances a few more glances at you throughout lunch. He genuinely had thought about what Minho had said on his birthday. He did think that you were pretty, beautiful even. But you two had been fighting since you were kids. He honestly didn't think there would even be a chance for friendship given your history. When the food came, you all ate, the team started a conversation with Jisung. As your lunch hour came to a close, you and your team got up, you paying for their food, Jisung's included. He was honestly surprised.

You all walk back to the office, Jisung trailing behind you, the other three walking ahead of you. Jisung stares at you a few times on the walk back.

"I feel you staring, Jisung. Cut it out." You say without turning around.

"I'm not staring." He shifts his gaze from you. "Thank you for lunch, though." He says quietly. You simply nod. Going back up to your floor, you all go back to your desks, Jisung going to his before getting up to go to you. He needed help with his login as Chan hadn't given it to him, but had it on your desk. You get up and go around to his desk. You help him log in and show him how to use the programs he needs to use. That continues until the end of the work day.

"Can I ride home with you and Minho, Y/n? I took a cab here as I didn't know you worked here." He was quiet, not wanting to ask you for things.

"Ask Minho. He'll be here any minute." You look up from your phone, looking out for your boyfriend's car. Once he pulls up, you smile and get in the passenger seat. Jisung leans down so he can see Minho.

"Hyung, can I ride home with you and Y/n? I don't want to call another cab." He chuckles softly.

"Yeah, that's fine. Hop in." Minho says. He leans over and kisses your cheek as Jisung climbs in the back seat. The younger one makes a disgusted face again when Minho kisses your cheek. Minho laughs when he sees the face his friend makes. "What do you guys want for dinner?"

——

You were in your bathroom, taking off your makeup while Minho ordered pizza. Once your makeup was off, you changed out of your work outfit and into more comfortable clothes. One of Minho's oversized shirts that hung off your shoulder, and a pair of your sleep shorts, hidden just underneath Minho's shirt. You step out into the common area and Jisung covers his eyes from where he sits on the couch.

"Please put some pants on, Y/n." He peeks through his fingers.

"I am." You lift the hem of the shirt up to show off the shorts.

"Oh." Jisung lowers his hands. Minho walks in from the kitchen with three cups. You take one from him and thank him, smiling at him.

"I'm going to hop in the shower while we wait for the food to be delivered. It's already paid for, so when it gets here, just give him the tip money on the table by the door." Your boyfriend says. He kisses you softly after setting the other cups down.

"Will do. Thank you, baby." You kiss him back and he walks off to go shower. Not long after the water starts, there's a knock at the front door. You answer it and it's the delivery driver. You take the pizza and hand him the tip money. You notice him looking you over.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing home alone like this?" He grins, leaning against the door frame.

"I'm not alone." You say, holding the pizza boxes. "I'm here with my boyfriend."

"I don't see anyone inside. So it looks like you're alone." He chuckles, trying to step inside. "And I don't think the old 'I have a boyfriend' card is going to work." You take a step back as he keeps trying to come inside.

"Ji..?" You call out, getting nervous. The delivery guy starts to reach for your arm, saying something that you weren't listening to. "Jisung?" You say calling louder.

"What?" He says coming around the corner to see you. He sees what's happening. "What's wrong man? Did my girlfriend forget to give you the tip?" He steps over to you, taking the pizza and setting it on the table by the door. He drapes his arm over your shoulder. The delivery guy looks between you and Jisung.

"This guy isn't your boyfriend." He scoffs.

"No, I am. Now if you'd kindly leave, I won't press charges for trespassing." Jisung watches him.

"Prove it then." This guy is getting ballsy. Jisung shrugs and turns you so you're facing him. He gives you a look that says 'trust me'. You didn't trust him, and really didn't want to, but you nod slightly and Jisung leans down, slotting his lips with yours. Your first thought was that you wanted to pull away or push him away, that kissing him would've been horrible. But it wasn't. His lips were nice and soft. He slowly licks your lips, asking for entrance. He wanted to be as convincing as possible to get the guy to leave.

You bring one hand up to his cheek as you open your mouth. He slips his tongue inside your mouth, one of his hands going to the back of your head, having you tilt your head back a bit to deepen the kiss. He tasted of cherries. You faintly hear the guy scoff and what sounded like the door closing. Jisung stepped closer to you, pulling you close to him at the same time as he continued to kiss you.

He gently bites your lower lip and you groan softly. He releases your lip and captures you in a kiss once more, his fingers threading into your hair, a soft moan slips from him into your mouth. You hear someone clear their throat off to the side of you and that's when Jising pulls away, his lips kiss bruised. You imagine yours don't look any better. Jisung wipes his lips on the back of his hand, putting on a disgusted look again. You turn your head and see Minho standing there just in a towel.

"Minho.."

[candiiee]

ᴅᴇᴋᴜᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ: ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ

summary: izuku and you go undercover on a date

warnings: annoying fan girls, swearing

an: n/a

Being a pro hero was stressful. Izuku loved the job, he really did, but was it so wrong to want a date with his beloved s/o and not get mobbed by a bunch of giggling fangirls?

So today, he and you had decided to wear disguises, and head to a restaurant for a date.

He was wearing a simple hoodie, the hood up and a hat to cover his messy curls, with sunglasses so no one would see his big doe eyes. Which was a shame really.

You wore something simple, the clothes a dull colour, so you weren’t obvious.

He kept his head down, trying to appear shorter, which was kind of funny, considering he was tall.

You pulled him along, snickering at how shy he was acting, eyes darting around, as if he was gonna get jumped soon.

You entered the small cafe, and you usher him to sit down, and went to order.

You come back, and find your boyfriend surrounded by a small group of teenagers.

Oh boy.

They looked like a bunch of predatory sharks, as they surrounded Izuku, who looked at you for help.

You were about to intervene, when you noticed how one of them was trying to make her chest look bigger, pushing it forward, getting too close for your liking.

Excuse me?? Izuku was a grown man. This was a teenager. You knew well how much people showed their blatant lust for him. He was a handsome young man, and you’d made it your mission to make sure he never saw nor knew the existence of the fics of him in all the major online writing websites. (Of course, you’d read some of them. You couldn’t help yourself, Izuku was a bean so why not just causally flex that he was yours?)

Sure, izuku wasn’t that innocent. He knew how to fuck. (And he did it well) But he didn’t need to know about the fanart, the pornography that was drawn about him. Some of it was so explicit it would bring your mom back from the dead and make her die again in disgust.

You stopped the train of thought. These were teenagers. And quite frankly, the teenager probably just wanted to be noticed. Izuku was attractive.

You managed a stiff smile, moving between them and subtly pushing the girl back.

She looked at you in irritation, which then turned into embarrassment. You smiled, “well hi there. I see you’re a bit too close to my husband.”

Izuku went red, husband? He was pretty sure he never proposed. Or did he and he forgot? Or did you propose and he forgot the wedding?

You pretend not to notice Izuku’s inner turmoil.

The teens excuse themselves, immediately leaving.

“Poor Izuku.” You coo, reaching over and pinching his cheek. “The fans can’t leave him alone.”

“Husband?” He squeaks out.

Oh boy.

[drowned-captain]

The Rebound - Pitfighter! Vi x Fem! Reader - Ch. 3

A/N: Writing fight scenes are HARD AND I TRIED MY BEST IMSOSORRY. SHORT AND SIMPLE I GUESS. Also I just wanna note that this fic is gonna be a semi-slow burn cause I don’t plan on ending this fic too soon. 

MDNI (18+ only).

TW// Mature themes like violence, drinking, possible drug use, infidelity, mean/triggering thoughts, BEGINNING OF TOXIC CODEPENDENCY 

Word Count: ~ 4.5k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the announcer calls out Violet’s name, she cracks her neck and knuckles before walking to the center of the ring. The crowd is hollering for her, and she looks around at the blinding lights. The light amount of alcohol in her system made it all less overwhelming; it’s just another day. She looks forward to beating the absolute hell out of her opponents. She needs this. She needs to blow off the steam that consumes her entire being. 

Her opponent was then called to the ring, a burly dude twice her size. He laughed at her as he took his place in front of her, looking down with a sneer. Vi puts her fists up and wrinkles her nose slightly while she glares up at her opponent. The second that the bell rings, the thug strikes first. 

Violet feels the ache of the blow onto her forearms. With a yell, she deals a blow to his gut. He snarls at her, kicking her to the floor. Violet rolls, avoiding being stomped on by the brute. She springs to her feet from a lying position, but the foe avoids her kick-up. The evasiveness of the challenger fuels her rage. It gives her a speedy boost, and the cartilage of his nose crunches upon impact, quickly speckling her face with warm crimson. He staggers backwards with his hand over his nose, leaving a window of opportunity. She uses all her might to tackle him to the floor, pinning his arms to the ground with her knees. Her fists fly to his face, painting her knuckles red. He manages to sit up, using his strength to free his arms and shove her off of him. 

The two continued to fight it out, the two of them paying no mind to the heckling of the audience.

*

“Who ya betting on?” A somewhat raspy female voice asks you. You briefly glance at the cloaked person next to you before quickly turning your attention back to Vi. 

“Vi,” you answer, your eyes glued to the fight before you. You’re at the edge of your seat struggling to keep yourself from springing to contribute to the crowd yelling at the fighters. That guy is huge! There’s no possible way that this would end well for everyone betting on Vi. 

“You seem pretty tense. You got no faith in her, or what?” she asks in a somewhat playful tone. You look at her again, but her hood is shadowing her face pretty well. You can only make out the glow of red-violet irises. 

“I haven’t placed a bet before, so I’m a little nervous,” you turn away again.

“I’ve been betting on her for a while. She almost never loses, so you’ll be fine,” the cloaked woman says with a dismissive wave of her hand, “You’ll be swimmin’ in cogs in no time!”

The crowd and yourself exclaim at the sound of Vi’s opponent’s jaw cracking. You cover your eyes, cringing at it being loud enough to hear from where you were sitting. The thud of the brute’s body onto the floor signified the end of the match. The cloaked woman laughs, jumping up from her seat and cheering at the scene. Most of the crowd cheers harder when Vi is announced the winner.

You couldn’t stop yourself from cheering at the success of the fight. You were utterly relieved that you probably would not have to resort to stealing. The audience starts to disperse to collect (or to give up) their gambled cogs.

“So, where do I go to collect the–?” you wanted to ask the woman, but she was gone. You look around in a daze, trying to find her among everyone else. When that failed, you just followed the happiest looking people in hopes that they were on their way to do what you also needed to do. 

*

Violet meets up with Loris outside of the arena. She takes the black leather jacket that he was holding on to for her, muttering a thank you before donning it. 

“You walking home this time?” He asks as they walk together against the crowd.

“Of course not. We’re going out again,” she says without even looking at him. Her eyes remained straight forward towards the path of her favorite bar.

“You don’t think we should give it a rest this time, Vi?” He asks. 

Violet scoffs and shakes her head, “No. My body and hands are fucking killing me. I need something to numb it all with.” 

Loris stays silent, not wanting to argue against it. He has tried to convince her to cut back on the alcohol before, but it mostly ended in her cussing him out for it and drinking a lot more than normal. Other times she just ignores him. This whole situation was not fine— to him, at least. Vi usually pays for his drinks which would normally make him happy, but his concern has been growing because it seems like she is indulging more and more every day. It’s been getting hard for him to watch her go down this kind of path, and she refuses to get herself out of that downward spiral.

“I might sit this one out tonight,” he says, “but I’ll be in the area to make sure you get home safe as usual.”

“Yeah, just leave,” Violet growls bitterly, shoving her hands in her pockets and walking a bit faster, “You never want to hang out anymore.”

“I’m still here for you, Vi,” he says, hovering his hand over her shoulder, but he stops himself and drops his arm to his side instead, “just be safe. Alright?” He slows his pace, watching Violet walk ahead of him. 

Loris pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, dragging his hand down his face as he slows to a stop. He then saw that Vi had stopped in her tracks in the distance. He followed her gaze to people in line collecting their winnings. He shrugs, turning on his heel. There’s no use trying to figure out what Vi might be thinking over there.

Violet is frozen in place and absolutely fixated.

You are collecting your earnings from the bet you placed, fighting the urge to get too giddy about it. You think about going home, but the thought of your little rush of happiness crumbling into ash once you enter your apartment and remind yourself of things…

It’s better to celebrate instead. It has been a few days since you had a little drink after all. You pocket your tiny windfall of cogs and head towards that party strip of Zaun. 

You weren’t too worried about being mugged for your earnings because some people were already preoccupied with fighting each other over larger bets. You personally didn’t get too much; eight cogs can only help you win so much. You make a mental note to stay vigilant in the future once you can afford to bet a little more and win much more.

You look around the street as the neon lights reflect off of your (s/c) flesh. You didn’t have the intention of spending too much money—you have to start saving up for next month after all. Better yet, you have to start saving to at least move apartment units. That might take for-fucking-ever, but at least it would feel like a fresh start after all you’ve been through in that shitty relationship. You stand aside to let other people walk by and do a little eenie-meenie on your surroundings, and chance leads you to select that bar you visited a few days ago. Must be fate.

You cross the street towards that bar with a little pip in your step. Your mind was preoccupied with which beverage would be the best (and not too expensive) to celebrate the success with. The bouncer let you in, not seeming to recognize you. Luckily you arrived a bit early, so the dance floor and the bar were not too busy. You quickly sat at the bar before it could get any more occupied.

“I’ll start off with some water,” you say to the bartender. Zaun’s tap water was far from clean, but you didn’t want to accidentally upset your head and stomach like you did the last time. You’ll deal with your potential kidney problems when you’re older. 

You were given a plastic cup of good ol’ plain Zaun water. You took a little sip; already used to the strange aftertaste of it. You drum your fingers on the counter while you think about what kind of poison you want. 

The barstool next to you scrapes against the floor which makes you shut your eyes automatically. There were plenty of other empty seats at the bar, yet someone decided to choose the seat right next to you. On instinct, you rotate your stool just a tad to send a silent message that you were not interested. 

“Two shots of raspberry vodka,” says the voice next to you. Your eyes slowly open upon hearing that familiar voice, feeling the whoosh of air from the bartender walking by to grab some shot glasses.

You slowly turn your head, instantly recognizing Vi. You had no idea that Vi frequented this bar in particular. In fact, you didn’t expect her to even be here or in the party district at all given how brutal that fight was. Regardless, you didn’t stare. There’s no way she would remember you, right? She was absolutely intoxicated! You were pretty out of it yourself, but you were able to remember that night. A part of you felt a bit anxious about if she actually remembered the conversation you two had that almost resulted in her getting aggressive with you. You quickly glance at her again to see if her ‘handler’ was with her, but he wasn’t. Shit. 

You grab your cup of water and take another sip as you feign cluelessness.

The bartender returned with Vi’s shots, and she slid one towards you. It clinked against your water cup right when you put it down. You look at Vi, who was already in the middle of drinking her shot. She put the empty shot glass down, clearing her throat. She turns her head to look at you, her eyes calculating.

“You seem familiar,” she tells you, resting her elbows on the counter. This less shitfaced version of her didn’t seem that bad, but you did just watch her break someone’s jaw not even an hour ago.

“I don’t know a damn thing about you,” is the best response you can give her, but you say it in the most polite tone you can muster without it sounding too fake. Your statement jogs her memory a bit, and you pick up on the glimmer of recollection in her eyes. She looks at the cup of water you protectively held in your hand, her fuzzy memory of you clearing up a bit.

You grab the little shot glass that she slid to you, giving her a nod of acknowledgement, “Thank you for the shot, by the way.”

Violet glances at the water cup you set down before looking back at you again. 

“What was your name again?” She asks as you down the shot.

“(Y/n),” your tone was careful, still unsure of her intentions. Even if she was a little more sober than the first time, you shouldn’t let your guard down.

“Ah, I remember,” she says gently, “Listen, whatever I said to you the first time. I’m sorry for it. I don’t remember exactly what I told you, but…” she trails off. 

You just nod, “Thank you for your apology, Vi.”

It was so unusual to see a tough looking girl like Vi— who beat the absolute crap out of a dude who towered over her— sound so gentle and sincere. Despite her intimidating, punky appearance, she seems pretty alright.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment before she speaks up again, “So you came to watch the fight, huh?” 

You nod, taking another sip of your water.

“I honestly thought you were a goner the moment I saw that guy walk into the ring, but you ended up wiping the floor with him.”

Vi chuckles, feeling unusually shy. She has had plenty of people compliment her on her fighting, but for some reason it hit just a tiny bit different coming from you. 

Vi opened her mouth to say something, but you spoke up first, “I’m also sorry, by the way. It was rude of me to assume things about you. For all I know, you could just be having a good time every day in your routine. And… there I go again. Assuming stuff.”

But you were right the first time. Vi couldn’t remember exactly what you said before, but she remembered feeling very defensive over it. 

“Water under the bridge,” she shrugs. 

There was another moment of silence. The awkwardness was starting to make you feel uncomfortable. 

The bartender comes by and gives Vi a bottle, “Here’s your usual.”

You look at the bartender and ask him to surprise you with anything. 

Vi takes a swig of her drink, wiping her mouth afterwards. You smile a bit, trying to strike up a conversation to break the silence, “You must be pretty popular at this bar. The bartender already knows what you like.”

She shrugs, her facial expression hardening just a tad, “It’s nothing to be too proud of.”

Whoops! You weren’t sure if that insulted her. 

You then looked at her hands, then at her face, “Are you in any pain at all? You seem to keep it together pretty well.”

Violet was caught off guard by your question, “Yeah, I am,” she averts her gaze. She knows that you probably meant physical pain, but it felt good to hear somebody ask her a question like that. If only you knew about the emotional pain that she was in. She would love to talk about it; there is a sense of comfort in sharing things with a stranger after all.She wasn’t sure how to instigate that conversation. A part of her was still feeling embarrassed for how her first impression might have been to you.

You simply nod in acknowledgement, unsure what to say. Should you say sorry? Would that be weird?

The bartender returns with some kind of cocktail for you. Violet looks at it curiously, then watches you take a sip. It tasted kind of nasty, but oh well. You contemplate just leaving because it didn’t seem like Vi was receptive to conversation at the moment. But your curiosity kept you planted to the barstool. After all, Vi is going to be your ticket to keeping yourself fed and housed.

“So, what’s the secret to winning every fight? Besides being the strongest person in the ring,” you inquired.

Vi seemed to relax a bit, and you couldn’t help but notice a sense of relief in her eyes and body language, “I could tell you, but then I’d have to fight you,” she joked. You laughed a little bit, happy that Vi seems a bit more relaxed.

“I wouldn’t want your hands to hurt even more than they probably already are,” you snorted. 

The two of you sit with smiles on your faces. You try to down more of your disgusting spiked sugar water, physically recoiling after a mouthful of it. Vi snickers at your reaction to it, then curiously surveys the inside of your glass after you set it down.

“What even is that?”

“I don’t even know. Dumpster water with syrup, probably,” you explained, drinking some water.

“May I?” Vi reaches for your beverage, and you nod. After she takes a sip of your mystery drink, she puts it down and shakes her head, “Wow, yeah. That’s pretty bad.”

“Here,” you hand her your water cup. She takes a sip of your water, staining the rim of it with black lipstick. She looks into the cup of water, her face softening. 

“Hey, (y/n),” she begins, her eyes still glued to the cup of water, “Could I confide in you about something?” 

A rush of nervousness flows through you, but you tilt your head curiously.

“Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get out of this cycle. It's like... fighting, drinking, rinse and repeat. But nothing ever changes,” she sets the water in front of you, grabbing her own drink and rotating it in her hands. She shifts in her seat, fingers drumming against the glass. You stay quiet, waiting to see if there is anything else she wants to share.

“That’s just how I feel right now. Thanks for letting me spew that on you,” she takes a long drink from her bottle.

You look down at your own alcoholic beverage, “If I’m being completely honest with you, Vi, I came here to celebrate because I needed to celebrate. But I’m honestly not so sure what I’m celebrating anymore.”

“You’re trying to numb something, aren’t you?”

Your eyes quickly darted to Vi, your eyebrows raised in surprise, “Is it obvious?”

“You’re not the only one,” she commented, “I guess we have something in common.”

She holds out her bottle to you, and you hesitate before taking it from her and giving it a taste. It was definitely better than the concoction you were trying to stomach. 

The bar was starting to get progressively noisier, and the music was gradually being cranked up. The two of you have to lean closer together to keep on chatting. The bartender would come back with more drinks for Vi, but she seemed to be taking her time with drinking them. She was more preoccupied with talking to you.

“I guess I can say that I’m somewhat relieved to know that I’m not the only one stuck in a loop,” Vi shares. The two of you were so physically close that you were able to see some of the scars on her face. Her smeared black makeup didn’t completely hide some of her bruises. Some old, some new.

“I’ll tell you what makes me chase my tail if you tell me yours,” you bargain. 

Violet feels her guard wanting to come back up, but what the hell. It’s not like she has anything else to lose.

“Heartache and heartbreak,” she admits. Your mouth hangs open a bit. Vi looks at you expectantly as she waits for your own reason, “So what’s got you on repeat?”

“Would you believe me if I said it’s the same as yours?”

“Hah! Hurts like a bitch, doesn’t it?”

You laugh a little, surprised by her bluntness. “Yeah, it really does.”

For a moment, the two of you sit in companionable silence. The noise of the bar swirls around you both, but it feels distant, like you’re sitting in your own little bubble.

“Are you new to getting your heart broken?” you ask her. Your eyes scan over her appearance.

Vi looks down at her clothing, feeling her face heat up in embarrassment, “I’ve been heartbroken before, but this time was different. I don’t know if I’m ready to drop all the details, though. Ugh, it’s all just so stupid.”

“No it’s not,” you interject, “it really does fucking hurt. We can feel what we want to feel about it all. Sure, we can act out. Feeling is not stupid. As long as we don’t fall further than expected…”

You found yourself being somewhat of a hypocrite. Letting yourself rot at home was one thing, but now you’re looking for excuses to go out and drink rather than pulling yourself up off the floor and facing your grief head-on. And here you are giving lectures that you wished someone would tell you. But wait! You need this. You have to go out from now on, remember? Betting on Vi’s fights is supposed to help you. This is beyond your control for sure; everything is fine. 

Vi, on the other hand, hung on to your words. In a way, you made her think about what she is doing to herself. She then wondered if you, yourself have ever been a party person before your situation. She hoped that casual drinking was a part of your routine. Or are you falling into bad habits like she is?

But the truth is that neither of you were ready to separate yourselves from this kind of lifestyle. The pain of being home and alone hurt too much. 

Vi pauses for a moment before asking, “Ever think about what comes after?” Glancing at you sidelong.

“After heartbreak?” you clarify, toying with the straw in your drink.

She nods, “Yeah. Like... do you keep looking back, or do you find something to push forward?”

You take a moment, considering her question. “I think I’m still trying to figure that out. I’m just kind of stuck. But I do know that in the end, moving forward is the only choice.”

Vi hums in agreement, taking another swig of her drink. “Moving forward sounds nice. I just don’t know what the hell that looks like anymore.”

Her words hang in the air for a beat, and you feel an urge to respond, but you’re unsure how much to say. Instead, you offer softly, “Maybe it doesn’t have to be a huge leap. Just... a step at a time.”

Vi looks at you, really looks at you, her expression somewhere between skeptical and thoughtful. “A step, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say, shrugging. “Baby steps. Like... sitting here and actually talking about it with someone.”

For a second, you think she might scoff, but then her lips curve into a wry smile. “Alright, you get a point for that one.”

You search for the cogs in your pocket, leaving some on the counter. Vi watches you, her face flashing with a bit of anxiety, “You’re heading out?”

“Yeah, I gotta go home before it gets too late. Plus, it’s getting too rowdy here.”

“I can buy you another drink,” she offers, pushing your cogs towards you.

“Agh, nah. After what I was just given, I don’t think I’m in the mood for any more.”

“Let me pay for your drink, (Y/n). It’s the least I can do for your company. You shouldn’t have to pay for a drink that sucks after all.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, “You don’t have your own bills to pay?”

“I get paid pretty well in The Pit. I insist,” if her voice didn’t give her away as pleading, her eyes certainly did. Her silvery-blue irises contrasted against all the black eyeshadow she wore, making them even more intense to look at. For a person who can whoop ass, she very much had a ‘kicked puppy’ look to her.

“Fine. Just this once, though,” you stand up, waving the bartender down. 

A feeling of relief washed over Vi, “Thank you.” She wasn’t sure why she was thanking you, “Stay safe out there, alright?”

The bartender comes back with two plastic cups of water. You leave one of them with Vi.

“It seems like you have to catch up on your drinks,” you note, “better stay hydrated if you’re going to finish all those bottles.”

Vi turned her head to the counter before her. The bartender, who was already so familiar with how much Vi drinks on the daily, had left a bunch of bottles there. All but one of them were untouched. For the first time in a while, Vi felt overwhelmed with how many beverages were waiting for her. It really put things into perspective.

“Heh, right. You should remind me to drink more water next time,” she grabs the cup of water that you left her and swirls it around.

“Next time, huh?” you echo.

“Yeah, but as long as you don’t get too naggy about it,” she replies, her voice holding just a trace of warmth beneath its usual edge.

“Alright, well… be safe tonight. It really was nice talking to you, Vi.”

She huffs out a laugh, shaking her head. “I didn’t think I needed that conversation, but I did. Thank you. You as well, (Y/n).”

As you head for the exit, you can feel her gaze linger on you. Something about it leaves you wondering what she’ll do next—and whether you’re about to find yourself pulled deeper into her world.

As soon as you step out into the street, you hear Vi call out to you. When you turn around, she is squeezing her way through the crowd of strangers.

“(Y/n)! Wait, real quick. Are you coming to the next fight?” 

“Maybe!” You shrug. Of course you were going. You need the money!

“Well, if you do, let’s hang out again.”

Vi was trying to read your face. She didn’t know if she was coming off as weird or desperate. Little did she know, you were very on board with this idea. Not only do you get to have a reason to not return to the apartment, but you finally get to make a friend. 

You nod slightly, a smile creeping up on your face, “Sure. Let’s hang out again soon, Vi.”

She watches you leave before returning to her seat. Luckily nobody decided to steal it (everybody knows that they’d get torn a new one if they dare steal the champion pitfighter’s seat). Vi looked at all the unfinished bottles before her with a blank expression on her face. She decided to finish at least two more bottles, leaving the other ones untouched. After paying for her drinks and yours, she takes the cup of water with her. 

Loris was already waiting for her outside. He immediately puts a hand on her shoulder to steady her walking, but she shrugs him off and just walks her usual route. She brought the water to her mouth and drank it, but she took her time with it compared to the way she downs alcohol.

“You feelin’ alright?” he asks, observing Vi’s movements for any signs of wasted dizziness. But she seemed a little more sober than usual, which struck him odd. 

“Never better,” Vi responds. Her tone was dry, but there was something about her energy that definitely shifted. He notices the water cup in her hands but doesn’t say anything about it. 

Vi says goodnight to her friend before heading up to her little studio apartment. The door pushed away some glass bottles. The clinking noises normally wouldn’t bother her, but tonight she groaned in frustration at them. She shoves them all to a corner with her boot and silently tells herself to throw them out tomorrow. Vi passes the old, dusty cup that you gave her during the first night and she does a little double-take. With a small chuckle escaping her lips, she stacks the new one on top of the old one.

End of Ch. 3

Ch. 1 Ch. 2

Ch. 4(IN PROGRESS)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist Cupcakes: @ren-ren23 @captain-crabbo @baylegend6

[discordiansamba]

Can you imagine how fast Azulon is spinning in his grave in the Avatar Zuko AU? He arranges his second son’s marriage to bring Roku’s bloodline into the royal family, hits the jackpot to end all jackpots… And his dumbass son cocks it up in the worst possible way.

God, just. The whole idea behind ursa marrying into the family was to ensure that his bloodline continued to have powerful benders. Which certainly worked! Azula is clearly a powerful and talented prodigy, even if her older brother Zuko has always been a much more average bender in comparison...

...what do you mean, Zuko is the Avatar?

...what do you mean, Ozai banished him to the Earth Kingdom because he refused to fight him in an Agni Kai?

...what do you mean, he's now fighting against the Fire Nation?

see? this is exactly why Azulon didn't want to leave the Fire Nation in ozai's hands. the second he takes his eyes off him (because he's dead lmao) he just fucks everything up. incredible.

[mantisgodsdomain]

We ought to write more Pokemon fic some time. We want to recreate the Pokemon Manners/Human Manners cheat sheet that we made a few years ago we think that this site would like the Sliding Scale Of Politeness When Greeting A New Pokemon You've Never Met Before.

[yuukiiqwq]

Satoru was confident that you liked him back. He was positive. He had no doubt in his mind that you were going to be his pretty little wife. Is he getting ahead of himself? Sure, he is, but he's that confident. That's until he noticed how he hadn't received any chocolate from you.

It was Valentine's Day, and he still hasn't received any chocolate from you. Yeah, he had a mountain worth of chocolate from all those people who gave him it, but where was yours? He couldn't find it anywhere. He was sure that you would have placed your chocolate on his desk since you hadn't given him his. He double no triple checked all the chocolates, yet he could not find the one that has your pretty little name written on it. He continued to search through the chocolate pile for the fourth time today.

He must have missed it, right? Or did someone steal it? He swear he's going to hunt that person to the end of the Earth. Who dared to steal something that was rightfully his?

"Satoru, calm down."

He looked up at his best friend, who was trying to hold down a laugh at his panic.

"She'll probably give it to you later. The day just begun."

Right. Suguru is right. You'll give him his chocolate later. He's a good boy. He can wait.

That's what he told himself, but Suguru and Shoko have already received theirs this morning, and his is still nowhere to be found. Where is his chocolate? You're just sitting there in your seat, looking all pretty as if Satoru is not going through a huge dilemma because of you.

He couldn't help his hands that kept inching itself closer to the chocolate you gave Suguru. He wouldn't know if he snatched it, right? Suguru had received a lot of chocolate! He wouldn't know if he took it... was what he convinced himself before Suguru slapped his hand away.

"Satoru," he sighs.

"But Suguru!!!" Satoru whined as he sunk down into his seat.

"Be patient. You'll get yours soon."

But how soon is soon? Satoru isn't exactly known for his patient.

It was the end of the day, and still no chocolate from you. He asked Suguru and Shoko to leave first because he thought you would finally give it to him when both of you were alone. But you haven't. Where was his chocolate?

The two of you were approaching the exit of school, so Satoru made a quick decision, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into an empty classroom. He quickly shut the door and locked it.

"Satoru?" You asked in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"My chocolate."

"Your chocolate?"

"My chocolate from you! The symbol of your love towards me!"

"I didn't make you any," you replied smoothly. "Forgot to make them yesterday, so I woke up early today to make them, but I guess not early enough. I only had time to finish Shoko's and Suguru's. I didn't have time to make yours. Otherwise, I would have been late."

Satoru swear the world just ended. He looked down at his chest because he swears his heart ripped out of his chest at your words. Nope. Still alive. Why is he still alive in this cruel world? You had no chocolate for him? None? Not even a crumb?

"That's fine with you, right? I mean, you got a bunch of chocolate from other girls! You don't need mine."

He swear he is about to burst into tears. He didn't care about other girls. He didn't care about their chocolate. He wanted yours. How could you be so cruel and deny him of your chocolate? To reject him like this? He was devastated. No. Beyond devastated. Where is the closest cliff so he can jump off?

Pure silence radiated the room as Satoru tried to comprehend this horrible situation. Then he heard a small giggle slip pass your lips. That small giggle soon turns into a full-out laugh.

"You should have seen the look on your face, Satoru," you say as you try to stop laughing.

Was this funny to you? Why were you laughing at his suffering? Do you know how much he looked forward to today? To receive the cute little wrapped up chocolate you made for him? He dreamed of today, and you didn't have chocolate for him?

He then sees you reach into your bag and pull out exactly what he had imagined. A cute little chocolate box wrapped up in a baby blue color with a touch of white ribbon to finish it off. Fuck. He thinks he just got a heart attack seeing your chocolate. His chocolate.

"Princess, please don't joke like that to me ever again. You scared me half to death. I was going to jump off a cliff," he whined as he took the chocolate from your hand.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his dramatic behavior. "Stop being dramatic, Satoru. It's just chocolate."

A look of offense dawned his face as you utter those horrendous words to him.

"Chocolate? Just chocolate?" He huffed at you. He can't believe you as you treat this amazing god send gift as just chocolate. "Don't you dare call this just chocolate! This! This right here is proof of your undying love towards me!"

You laughed at his antics– "You're getting ahead of yourself, Satoru."

He delicately placed the chocolate safety away in his bag, treating it as a prized possession. He's looking forward towards white day. He already knows what he wants to get for you. He pulled you into a hug, nuzzling his face against your neck as he mutters– "You won't be saying that after I wife you up."

[astonmartinii]

little lion | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem young mum!reader

journalists go digging in max's past and think they've found f1's next big scandal - but they underestimate just how protective max is of his little lion

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

f1tea

liked by user5, user6 and 23,095 others

f1tea: this is y/n y/ln the supposed baby momma of max verstappen. not much is known about her, with her only going back to work recently as a therapist in monaco.

her and max had their baby, a girl, back when they were 17 in 2015. max has never been seen in public with the child and has never publicly claimed her either.

will we see her in the paddock now all the news is out?

view all comments

user7: holy shit this is insane

user8: this poor girl doesn't deserve this

user9: literally, either max is a present father and is just private or he doesn't have anything to do with them? but it coming out like this is probably stressful regardless

user10: also by my calculations, the baby will be nearly nine, so probably has a concept of fame and celebrity and if they haven't gone to a race it's probably for a reason

user11: i mean the way people are already talking about them proves them right already

user12: ted kravitz telling it like it is 🤲

user13: no he's not ??? he basically went on broadcast to call y/n a slut and try and say that he was 'always right about max because this proves he is reckless'

user14: once again, this child is eight and could understand some of this if they see it

user15: also the incidents ted is bringing up happened EIGHT YEARS AGO stop bringing a child into your weird agenda

user16: if he's not careful red bull will ban sky from their media run again

user17: i found her instagram and max, alex and daniel all follow her so it's defo legit

user18: i also found it but it's private :(

user19: i tried to follow but got blocked :/

user20: do you people have rocks for brains if it's private it means we're not meant to find it, if she's not spoken about it in eight years that means IT'S NOT OUR BUSINESS

user21: someone tell max to get a DNA test asap, gold diggers will do anything for money and fame

user22: what fame? she's got like 400 followers and has never spoken about max to any media outlet

user23: the way you people jump to gold digging allegations kill me

user24: also if max is the dead beat that sky are trying to make him out to be and y/n is a gold digger then why haven't we seen some child support claims and whatnot

user25: you have no shame posting this, if she didn't want to be found she doesn't want to be found

user26: f1 vultures at their best

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 2,389,774 others

maxverstappen1: i've seen a lot of journalists and 'professionals' trying to point score with the 'big revelation' of my daughter. sydney is the love of my life and for someone who grew up in the public eye i thought it would be best to keep my daughter away from the circus. not that i owe it to any of you people, but i see syd as much as i possibly can and i didn't want to post her or bring her to the paddock until she could make that choice for herself. y/n is a wonderful mother and is the exact support system i would want for my daughter.

view all comments

user27: MAX IS A GIRL DAD?

user28: congratulations media and internet you forced him to expose his kid

user29: the way they probably see this as a victory annoys me to my core

yourusername: you're an amazing father max, don't let them tell you anything else. sydney loves you and that's all that matters.

maxverstappen1: thank you y/n, i miss you both - see you this weekend!

yourusername: we look forward to it! x

user30: she didn't say that she loves him too so they're defo not together

user31: will you people ever learn to read the room?

user32: oh wow so max does see his daughter - watch sky still run with the deadbeat angle

user33: they were so shameless about his SLEEP SCHEDULE i cannot imagine the shit crofty is going to throw at him over this

danielricciardo: i'm sorry for how this has all come out max but i'm so glad i can publicly express my love for my god daughter!

maxverstappen1: this might mean that you can give her all of your gifts in person (if she wants to come) lord knows i can never fit them back in my suitcase

user34: you literally have a private jet?

maxverstappen1: you underestimate how seriously daniel takes being a god parent

danielricciardo: i think i'm singlehandedly keeping jellycat in business tbf

yourusername: and ikea, i have to buy a new shelving unit every couple of weeks daniel

danielricciardo: SYD IS MY BEST FRIEND LEAVE ME ALONE

user35: drop 💥 the 💥 daniel 💥 and 💥 sydney 💥 photos 💥 now 💥

user36: actually don't i don't think my baby fever can take it

alexalbon: you're an amazing father max and sydney is the coolest girl in the world!

maxverstappen1: thank you alex 😊

alexalbon: also if you ever convince y/n to come to races PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE make her bake me some of her iconic brownies

yourusername: alex you know i can just bake you some and send them to you via max

alexalbon: please 😫😫😫

yourusername: no worries albono, you're a growing boy you need the nutrients

maxverstappen1: they're brownies

alexalbon: i need y/n's brownies to deal with YOU

maxverstappen1: ok maybe this is why i don't want to introduce you all :(

yourusername: don't worry maxie i'll make you some goodies to go

maxverstappen1: thank you :)

user37: she makes him to-go goodies 🥹

yourusername

liked by feranandoalo_oficial, danielricciardo and 319,506 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: i'm not very happy that i have to make this statement like this because people couldn't respect the boundaries max and i have set as parents but alas: max is the loveliest man in the world and the best father sydney could ask for. he has a very busy life but he still makes as much time as possible for syd and she loves him very much. max has been in the spotlight from a very young age and did not want that pressure and spectacle on his own daughter. we may have never been together, but max has never been the monster you're trying to make him out to be. please respect my daughter's privacy. thank you.

view all comments

user41: once again, this is a very cute family but god this is a horrible way to find out about them :(

user42: i hope they know so so many of us are supporting them

danielricciardo: syd has grown so much i actually feel kind of sick

yourusername: i was a mess on her first day of school :(

danielricciardo: oh i can imagine ... max never told us but i'm sure he was his usual stoic self

yourusername: he tried, but we did both cry over a carton of ice cream for the whole morning

maxverstappen1: IT WAS A VERY EMOTIONAL MORNING

yourusername: it really was 🥺

user43: i'm sorry but why do two europeans have a daughter called SYDNEY?

maxverstappen1: she's nearly eight... i made my f1 debut in australia eight years ago... i can't hold your hand any more than that

user44: LMAOOOOOOO

danielricciardo: i am HURT i thought she was named after her beloved god father?

yourusername: if that was the case do you not think we would've gone for the more obvious option of DANIELLE???

maxverstappen1: also you were just an acquaintance and childhood crush at that point daniel

yourusername: omg childhood crush on daniel SNAP

danielricciardo: i'm not that old???

maxverstappen1: we have such good taste

yourusername: we REALLY do

user44: so like they're defo flirting right?

user45: ugh you people have no class (i hope so)

landonorris: i'm so sorry for you guys BUT THANK GOD IT WAS SO HARD TO KEEP HER A SECRET

maxverstappen1: i mean y/n and i kept her a secret for like nearly eight years 🤨

yourusername: i also 100% caught your slip ups you're just lucky there was never any rumour at those times

landonorris: I AM A BLABBERMOUTH PLEASE BE PROUD OF ME

maxverstappen1: fine?

yourusername: i'd be more proud but everyone else also kept the secret sooooo ???

alexalbon

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 894,503 others

tagged: lilymunhe, yourusername

alexalbon: with permission i am now allowed to post my bestest friend in the world!

view all comments

user46: god has heard my prayers and gave me my alex and sydney content

user47: i'd say what a random pairing but i think my brain just blocked out alex at red bull as a trauma response

alexalbon: lord knows i only got through being locked in the sim with y/n's brownies and hugs from syd

yourusername: syd asked for her favourite uncle to score more points so we can get ice cream again

alexalbon: i'll fix the damn williams myself

yourusername: hurry up she's getting impatient (i have no clue where she gets that from)

maxverstappen1: I AM NOT IMPATIENT I JUST LIKE THINGS BEING DONE IN A PROMPT MANNER

yourusername: is that what you tell the engineers?

maxverstappen1: ... something along those lines

yourusername: are you going to get more community service?

maxverstappen1: i don't think there were any cameras ???

user48: so max doesn't believe in not swearing around kids... how bad is it with sydney?

maxverstappen1: i am on my BEST behaviour for her

alexalbon: she's like a little sailor

maxverstappen1: in my defence she's much cuter when she swears than me

charles_leclerc: is this why she called me a wanker when i didn't bring leo to the house?

yourusername: i fear that has alex albon written all over it

alexalbon: whoops!

lilymunhe: we need another play date asap !! he goes so mushy i can get him to do all the cute dates i wanna do

yourusername: is that why i got given a badly painted mug?

alexalbon: hey! i worked very hard on that :(

maxverstappen1: i thought sydney painted it alex

alexalbon: can you guys stop ganging up on me :(((((

yourusername: no!

maxverstappen1: 😘

user49: feeling some ... tension here

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, alexalbon and 1,450,987 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: guess who wanted to come see dad at work?

view all comments

user51: oh she really is max verstappen's daughter with that cold middle finger to ted kravitz

user52: are they going to make an eight year old do community service as well?

yourusername: great now she's attached to the engineers

maxverstappen1: oh noooooooooo how will we ever cope??? maybe we should all go to every race ???

yourusername: that would be very convenient, wouldn't it?

maxverstappen1: i can see you smiling while typing, i don't think you're as opposed as you say you are

yourusername: you got me! i like to see syd happy :(

maxverstappen1: and me...?

yourusername: and you, i guess 😚

user53: so like are we just going to ignore all of this ^^ and the second picture?

user54: it would be nice that through all the shit they've had thrown at them that they got together through it

danielricciardo: he's been waiting long enough

maxverstappen1: DANIEL???

danielricciardo: what ???

user55: daniel, thank you for your service

user56: i mean we've seen them at one race and it's crazy to think they're not together

alexalbon: why did i have to track my bestie down at the hotel? you verstappens too good for the williams garage?

yourusername: we were busy !!!

alexalbon: franco is distraught

francocolapinto: i am?

alexalbon: yes!!!!

francocolapinto: i am!

maxverstappen1: stop yapping for the love of god i was getting my shit together - something YOU told me to do

alexalbon: fine... i guess

user57: so like that's confirmation right?

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, pierregasly and 2,349,855 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: i'm still reporting all you journalists to the ethics boards but i guess something good did come out of all of this

view all comments

user58: FUCK SKY SPORTS BUT THANK THE LORD THIS IS SO CUTE

user59: a family that flips off ted kravitz together, stays together!

user60: y/n's dirty look at him will forever be legendary

maxverstappen1: i've always loved you, and i've loved playing the long game with you and prioritising syd !! here's to the rest of our lives xx

yourusername: i've always loved you too but as convoluted as it has been i think this has been the best way to be - all love to syd first

maxverstappen1: but now we can cut the shit and do all the cute things without it having to be a 'play date'

yourusername: i love you dummy, but your cats are mine now

maxverstappen1: they've always been yours, just like me

user61: okay fuck you guys this is too fucking cute

user62: no because i'm too chronically lonely to read this this morning

landonorris: FINALLY, I COULDN'T KEEP ANOTHER SECRET FOR MUCH LONGER

danielricciardo: booooooo, we've all kept this secret you're not special

landonorris: i thought i was the only one who max told about his feelings? like literally on the podium when he saw y/n and syd watching?

oscarpiastri: i think you just can't read people lando, even i knew max liked y/n and i've only seen them interact THIS WEEKEND

alexalbon: we've all known forever lando, you're not getting sympathy for keeping the secret for 12 hours

user63: the grid being so protective of the lil family is so cute

user64: i read that george got the GDPA to sign a petition that the media couldn't ask about syd before max was ready to start the conversation himself

user65: also by the sounds of it, they've been rooting for this relationship just as long as max and y/n

maxverstappen1: i'm so lucky to have two amazing girls in my life, i'll love you forever and as long as you'll have me

yourusername: now i have you, i'm never letting you go

maxverstappen1: right back at you

yourusername: you're the bestest father ever and the love of my life, never let anyone tell you anything else my gentle boy

maxverstappen1: i love you both more than anything ever, you're my guardian angel and syd is my favourite little lion

fin.

note: HAPPY MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN BIRTHDAY TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE !!!

[itsswritten]

Cauldron-born

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: When an unexplainable energy pulls the Inner Circle to barge into the Day court, they're all shocked at what they find. But it's Azriel who can't help wonder if his dreams have finally been answered.

Part 2

“I hadn’t meant to hide this from you Rhysand,” Helion’s usual warm tone was replaced with something sterner, bolder— unwavering.

A breeze pulled on your skirt, the floaty material rippling under the wind. It was always warm in Day, but now, with the appearance of uninvited guests, there was a coldness in the air you hadn’t experienced before.

A bite that pulled at your skin raising goosebumps across your arms.

You guessed this reaction wasn’t a rare occurrence when facing the Night Courts Inner Circle.

Helion shifted his weight, his body stood in front of yours in a protective manner. A nervousness emitted from his energy, an emotion that actually seemed strange to even be associated with him. 

Helion wasn’t the nervous type. Charming and flirtatious, bold and defiant— not nervous.

Helion pushed his shoulders back, his stance flexing against the shadowy group that had just arrived. 

They had shaken him. 

Perhaps you were naive to think these people wouldn’t, naive to believe you could live your life quietly. Slip through the cracks. Go unnoticed. No you were not destined for that, as much as your dear friend may have wanted that for you.

So if a quiet life was not meant to be, then you would at least claim it as yours. 

With a light step you moved from behind Helion to his side, coming into full view of the group who had appeared unannounced in the courtyard. Your hand came to Helion’s gently, giving him a soft squeeze and light smile that stretched to your eyes.

How they had gotten through Day Courts shields didn’t come as a surprise really. Helion had divulged how powerful the High Lord of the Night Court was. That if he really wanted to take them all down, then Helion suspected in that unrelenting pit of power Rhys probably could.

But despite this power, Rhys had never ravaged control over the land. Helion was fond of Rhys and his family, they were allies. Perhaps he would even consider them friendly.

And yet Helion hadn’t told them about you.

Energies and rhythms rippling from their bodies, all with their own melody of colours unique to them floated toward you. Your eyes scanned over their features quickly, reading their expressions, the tight lines their faces made before one look pulled you to a hasty stop.

A hazel lock held you tightly as a males gaze ensnared you. 

Golden rays broke through a midnight blue aura, trapping you in a moment that seemed to expand and retract all at once. He was the most beautiful male you’d ever laid eyes on, and it took every ounce of will power to pull your gaze from his.

There was a simmering at the pit of your stomach, something familiar and warm, and you swore you could hear singing—

“She is like us.” A girl from the back of the crowd spoke, beautiful and sweet. Elain, you assumed. Her aura, one that resembled sunlight radiating in golden flicks. If you hadn’t known who she was you’d had assumed she was a Day court resident from her glow alone.

Elain stepped forward, another girl stepping beside her as if they’d both been pulled by the same magnetic pulse to the front of the group.

This girl. This girl was Nesta. You were sure of it. That silver flickering aura licked at her skin, an energy so similar and yet so different to her sisters.

“Hm..no not exactly like us…” Elain seemed to mutter, more to herself than anyone else. Her eyes scanning you as she tried to get a read, try and decipher what had pulled her here in the first place. 

Why you had pulled them here.

“Something other.” Nesta spoke.

You don’t think she’d actually intended for it to sound so venomous, but the words had snapped like poison. You noticed how for a split second there was a softeness in her energy. Whether she was regretful of her tone or not, you had flinched at the word.

Other.

Hm. Perhaps that was the best way to describe you.

Elain glanced at her sister, her face not changing as she digested Nesta’s words. There was a shuffling behind them, only slight and small. Would barely be noticeable if it wasn’t so hard for you not to notice.

Him.

His scarred fingers twitched at his sides, shadows swirling around them as they peered over those giant black membranes that were drawn in at his back. A tattoo creeped up the side of his neck, peeking through his shirt as you followed up to his jaw. Black leather’s covered his body, blue siphons shimmering under the setting sun. You tried so hard not to let your eyes wander back, but as though you had no control you gaze landed on his again. 

Only to find he was already staring.

Azriel.

Helion had mentioned him to you before and you recalled how you had rolled the name a few times in your mouth. The name feeling so foreign and familiar all at once.

“Not cauldron-made, no not quite.” Elain had turned her attention back to you.

You had stepped forward now, stepped out from the shadow of Helion.

Stepped out to face what you had been avoiding. 

“You are Cauldron-born.” 

✵

“Would you like to join us for some tea?” Your response had been after Elain’s heavy statement.

Your words coming out in a flurry to cut through the heaviness in the air. Despite being outside it felt stifling. Several eyes piercing into you. You could almost hear the way they were trying to decipher you— breakdown what Elain had said. 

You hadn’t allowed them the time. Quickly offering them tea, as you glanced at the small set up you and Helion had come to the courtyard to enjoy.

It was only a matter of moments before more furniture was erected and began the awkward silence while the piping pot of tea began to simmer to a cool.

Your hands were scrunched up in your skirt, fists full of fabric on your lap being an obvious tell of unease to those who knew what to look for. A strained smile was forced to your lips, expression light and brows arched in apprehension as you watched the uninvited guests silently take sips of tea. 

With a quick sideways glance you gave Helion a nervous smile, your lips wobbling as you took a sharp inhale. Helion responded with a gentle pat of your head, his large hand coming to ruffle your hair while a lazy smiled adorned his lips.

His energy finally shifting to one you recognised more, warm and teasing. He was relaxed again. Whatever shock the inner circle had originally caused, Helion now seemed...somewhat nonchalant.

That should have been reassuring, but the tension in your muscles didn't want to relax.

“This is y/n,” Helion finally spoke, addressing the people who had barged into his court. 

At the revelation of a name, the inner circle cast their attention solely on you. 

“These are my friends y/n, I’ve told you about them already. We had anticipated your arrival at some point,” he continued giving a knowing look to Rhys.

Your eyes scanned the expressions of the five people in front of you. 

Rhys, Amren, Nesta, Elain and of course Azriel. Not the whole inner circle, no there were members missing. But Helion had done such a great job at explaining them to you, that it really wasn’t difficult to figure out who was who.

“It’s l-lovely to meet you all,” you managed out, voice falling softer than you had hoped. Your own eyes gently moving across them all before flitting to the shadowy presence that remained stood behind the Night Courts High Lord. 

Azriel.

Spymaster and Shadowsinger of the Night Court.

You couldn’t seem to stop yourself from looking, among all the noise he sung the sweetest. His energy, amongst those swirling smoke coloured tendrils was the most beautiful display you had ever seen. Not the most powerful by any means, Rhysand and Helion’s outshone his aura in many ways but his was the most enticing— at least to you.

Composure wasn’t something Azriel usually lacked, but after hearing the softness of your voice fill the warm evening air he had to collect himself entirely.

From the moment he’d set his eyes on you, he couldn’t ignore the feeling in the depths of his chest. Maybe if you hadn’t been the cause of it, he’d have assumed there was something wrong with his heart. 

Azriel noticed the way your fingers nervously picked at your skirt, fists tight with the material as you sat up straight beside Helion. As if your posture would bring a confidence you were clearly lacking. 

He could sense it, your unease, nervousness. Picked up on it before even his shadows could whisper it to him.

Nervous, nervous, nervous.

He blinked them away. He already knew. 

Pretty. 

Another whispered. He already knew that too.

Pretty was putting it plainly though. You were breathtaking. 

Azriel wanted to reassure you. Comfort the anxiety he could tell you were drowning in. It was such a strange sensation, to feel this connection so deeply with someone he’d never met before, that Azriel couldn’t help but question why.

Azriel allowed himself to consider that perhaps something he’d been dreaming of for so long was finally his. 

That feeling, the ache in his chest you caused— was almost painfully lovely. He swore this was exactly how his brothers had described it to him.

Azriel found himself allowing the smallest curve spread to the edge of his lips, a gentle, secret smile. Just for you.

A smile that softened your own forced expression to something more relaxed and genuine. 

For a moment it felt as though it was just you two. The noise and vibrations of everyone else seemed to fade. An embrace of cobalt and hazel filling you with a warmth that felt so familiar.

“But Elain is correct. Y/n is cauldron-born.” Helion’s voice broke the trance you both seemed to be in.

Your nervousness from before simmering hotter.

“It cannot be,” Amren declared, disbelief tinging her tone as her gaze pierced into you.

“You think I lie?” Helion challenged. 

“How do you know for sure?” Rhys pressed back, an uncertainty in his tone.

“Because I know you all feel it too,” Helion’s voice was deep, a gleam in his eye as he turned to you proudly.

“She is the Mother’s daughter.” 

A statement. Even more bold than Elain’s settled a silence across the courtyard. This time it wasn’t stifling, their energy shifting to something of awe, admiration and then devotion.

In one quick movement a figure dropped to their knees. Head pressing to the cool stone ground.

Amren had bowed before your feet. 

And Amren bowed to no one.

a/n: Okay I know this a whole lot more of elusive-ness and I'm sorry, I just thought sharing this little bit more is better than nothing at all. I wanted to flesh this first out properly so here's the full part one! I've been so swamped with work and inspiration struck this evening so I quickly wrote this in my notes. I promise I will eventually finish it, even if it's just little updates here and there. I'm hoping maybe 2 more parts, so it'll be a nice little mini-series!

I also took it upon myself to try and tag everyone who commented and reblogged because you all seemed very invested so didn't want you to miss this installment even if it is tiny<3

Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @alittlelostalittlefound-blog @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

CB tags: @hannzoaks @je-suis-prest-rachel @awkardnerd @cleverzonkwombatsludge @faerieboismh @glitterypirateduck @paradisebabey @jesskidding3 @searchingforbucky @beardburnsupersoldiers @chubby-unicornz @toxicsociety17-blog g @sapphenaa @starsidesigh @kalistaangelsbane @bookishthoughtss @pit-and-the-pen

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

desperate people find faith

summary: your first mission ends with you in Jean's lab and a very worried Logan who's had trouble leaving your side wc: 2.0k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your very positive feedback on the previous fics with these two!!! I am really looking forward to writing more for them, so please feel free to send any requests for them my way, or Logan requests in general! And yes, the title is from a Taylor Swift song again. Lots of hurt/comfort in this one, talks of mushy gushy feelings, very worried Logan find the previous part here! all empath!reader fics here!

You took the cold table underneath you as a sign that something had gone wrong. You peaked one eye open before quickly squeezing it closed, the bright florescent lights too much to handle. You took a beat, trying to make sense of your surroundings. 

You remembered the jet landing in what seemed like the middle of nowhere, you and Jean searching an abandoned building looking for the young mutant that Charles had promised would be there and coming up empty. The two of you had made your way back to the jet and.. shit. The kid had freaked, and you distinctly remember taking enough damage to warrant a swift retreat back to the school. You must be downstairs, in Jean’s lab. It’s probably a bad sign that the first thing you worry about how much shit Logan is going to give you for this. 

You reached out with your power, too cautious of the lights (and the judgment of the rest of the team) to look with your eyes. A few people were mildly worried just across the room, but it was hard not to be distracted by the huge amounts of anger and exhaustion on your left. You debated facing him head on, being a grown up about it and fessing up to the fact that you were wrong. Thankfully, you could be immature when the situation called for it. You attempted to even out your breathing and smooth out the crease between your eyebrows, anything that could give you away. 

“Sweetheart?” Logan’s voice is so much softer than you were expecting, based on the waves of pure fury currently radiating off of him. 

You shush him, blinking one eye open. “I’m sleeping.” You whisper, letting your eye fall shut again. 

You felt his hand gently brush over the top of your head. His voice is closer, air tickling your ear as he leans down beside you. “Been sleeping for three days, bub. Need you to wake up now.” 

You turn your head to the side and are treated to Logan dropping a small kiss on your forehead. You can’t help but smile at the affection, eyes half open against the bright lights. After a few moments, they dim. Jean takes her place on the other side of the table, lab coat on and stethoscope in hand. You expected her to shoo Logan away in the name of a more thorough analysis but she doesn’t even attempt it. 

Logan’s hand finds your own, gripping tight enough to be just short of uncomfortable. Jean makes quick work of taking your diagnostics, and gently informs you that besides feeling fatigued, you are just fine. 

That can’t be right. 

You know that you caught the brunt of the impact, it was beginning to come back to you. The young mutant had lashed out, and before you’d had the chance to get close, he’d sent a car flying towards you and Jean. She’d managed to counteract it with her own mutation, firmly shoving you out of the way. But she hadn’t been fast enough to catch the small metal spikes he’d also thrown. There was no way you should be ‘just fine’ by now. 

Either Jean was in your head or the confusion was showing clearly on your face. She gave you a tight smile, eyes darting between you and the door. She took a few steps back, clearly intent of making her exit. “Jean, wait, there’s no way-”

She gave you her please stop talking smile. “I think it’s best if this comes from him,” she nodded at Logan, placing her stethoscope and clipboard on the side table. “I’ll be back in a bit to do one final check before we clear you.” She gives you another smile that didn’t meet her eyes, and then she was gone. 

You began to sit up slowly, still in shock that there was little to no pain, only stiffness from being immobile for too long. “What is she talking about?” Logan huffed, supporting you with a hand on your back. “What’s going on?” 

One hand made long, slow strokes up and down your spine, while the other had not loosened it’s grip on your own since you’d woken up. His eyebrows were scrunched together, the tell tale sign of his thinking face. You tried your best not to rush him, but everything about the situation was so confusing and your mind was racing. You were far too healed, and he was being far too calm for the anger that was rolling off go him, still. 

“Didn’t expect me to just sit around when you came back one foot in the grave, did ya?” 

“I’m sorry if me coming back banged up gave you extra work, I just don’t understand why you’re so upset with me.” 

His eyes went wide, the hand on your back stilling. “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart.” The tremble in his voice almost had you convinced. 

“Don’t lie to me about it,” you help up your hand, still firmly entwined with his. “I can tell.” 

“I’m notmad at you, bub.” He brought the back of your hand to his lips, peppering it with kisses. “I’m mad at the little fuck who did this to you, I’m mad that they let this happen, and I’m furious with myself that I wasn’t there.” 

“He’s just a kid, Logan.” 

His shoulders shook with silent laughter, a stark white dancing at the edge of his emotions now. Shock. “You almost died, and your first instinct is to defend the little asshole responsible.” 

You leaned forward, bumping your shoulder against his chest in warning. “I feel fine.” He nodded, taking a deep breath in through his nose while his hand not currently locked with yours resumed it’s path up and down your back. You let it go on for a few moments, appreciating the silence and the grounding effect of his touch. “Do you… wanna fill me in on why exactly that is?” 

He sucked in a breath, shoulders visibly tense. “We were lucky that Hank was stopping by for a visit.” He played with your fingers, distracting himself. You tilted your head to the side, wondering why that information was important at a time like this. “When they brought you in, god there was so much blood. Jean managed to take care of a lot of it, but she didn’t know when, or uh, if you were going to wake up.” He blew out a breath, steadying himself. “You know that Hank has been asking for a long time-”

Both of your hands gripped his tightly. “Tell me you didn’t.” 

Hank had been asking for ages to use some of Logan’s blood to synthesize a more advanced healing serum for the X-Men. It was rare they came back with more than bumps and bruises, but he was a worrier and felt that Logan was the key to making something truly effective. The only problem? Logan hated needles. You’d only gotten bits and pieces from him about why, but you had a hunch that when you were alive for as long as he had been, people were willing to poke and prod for some answers. He’d never admit it, but you had felt how terrified he was the last time he’d been down hard after a mission, and Jean had tried to give him an IV of fluids to speed up the regeneration. It hadn’t ended well, to say the least. 

“I should’ve done it sooner. Seeing you like this, knowing I could have done something about it.” He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. 

Cautiously, you fit yourself against him, arms tight around his neck and your chest flush with his own. You half expected him to reprimand you, to remind you that you should be careful, not to move too much. Instead, he held you tightly, the side of his face pressed against the top of your head. The two of you stayed like that for a good long while, reveling in the comfort of the other. 

“I know you think that you only did it because,” you paused, steeling yourself. “Because it was me.” You can feel him trying to pull away, but you mold yourself to him even more tightly, knowing that if he really wanted to he could break away from you like it was nothing. “You’re wrong. You would have done this for anyone.” 

“Except for-”

“Even for Scott.” You were quick to cut him off, unwilling to hear him being so harsh on himself.

You pulled back, just enough so that you were able to meet his eyes. You needed him to know that you are being earnest. “You are a good man, Logan. And before you even try to deny it or say I’m lying I know you can hear my heart beat. And I know you can tell when people are lying. And besides, I’ve never ever lied to you, have I?” He shakes his head slowly, one tear falling, and a few more after that. You reached up, brushing them away. He grabbed your hand, gently placing a kiss on your wrist, and then your palm. 

“Y’scared me, sweetheart.” He murmured, voice muffled by your palm still against his lips. “Don’t ever do that again.” 

You slide your hand to cup the side of his face, prompting him to meet your gaze. “You know I can’t guarantee that.” His eyes closed for a moment, and you knew he was doing his best not to shout. “I will always be careful, but I can’t stay back and leave the work to everyone else. If I can help, I’m gonna help.” 

His eyes narrowed, the tiniest hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “Fine. But we’re getting you trained up and you aren’t going out there without me again for a good long while.” 

You rolled your eyes, the both of you well aware there was no ill will behind it. “If you insist.” 

“I absolutely do.” He pulled you back into his chest, keeping you there until Jean peaked her head in through the door. 

“If you two are done being mushy, there are a few people who have been dying to see you.” 

Ororo rushed into the room, playfully shoving Logan away to scoop you into her arms. She gently checked you over, ignoring the fact that you’d already had several medical professionals on the case. Scott clasped you on the shoulder, reassuring you that for a first mission, this was a success. You laughed before shooting Logan a look that begged him to let it pass. He huffed, but nodded all the same. 

“Shocked we didn't have to keep him from trying to tear the kid apart, but he refused to leave the lab.” Scott nodded his head at Logan, who was continuing to shuffle closer to the table where you sat. 

Well, you would be dutifully ignoring the latter half of Scott's quip, instead choosing to focus on the young mutant. “You mean he's?” 

Scott smiled, nodding. “He’s settling in upstairs.” 

You grinned, glad to know that it hadn’t all been for nothing. You fixed your gaze on Logan, narrowing your eyes at him. “Don’t even think about failing him out of history as some kind of weird revenge, I’ll know and I will find a way to get back at you for it.” 

Your friends laughed around you, let you know that Charles has ordered in your favorite take out for dinner and started to filter out of the room. Eventually, you and Logan are left alone again, sitting side by side on the metal table. 

“You still owe me an important conversation, ya know.” You bump your shoulder against his. You stay there, pressed against his side with your head leaning on his shoulders. His hand rests on your shoulder, holding you close. 

“Maybe wait until you aren’t in a hospital gown, sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes, clearly aware that he was deflecting, but still content to take in his warmth and quiet support. You were safe, and you were home. Not just at school, but with him.

[pucksandpower]

Drunk in Love

Max Verstappen x fiancée!Reader

Summary: in which Max gets drunk, forgets that the two of you are literally engaged, confesses his love for you, and then gets reminded that his ring is on your finger … in that order

Based on this request

The lights from Jimmy’z spill out onto the sidewalk, a dizzying kaleidoscope of reds, purples, and blues. You stand just outside, arms crossed, as your phone buzzes for the third time in five minutes. It’s Daniel this time.

“Hey,” he says, voice just slightly too cheerful to be innocent. “So, uh, Max is-”

“I’m already here.”

“Oh, perfect. He’s …” Daniel hesitates, and you can practically see him scratching the back of his neck. “He’s just a little … spirited tonight.”

Spirited. That’s one way to put it.

You hang up before he can add anything else and glance toward the club entrance. Max stumbles out a few seconds later, propped up by Lando, who looks like he’s trying not to laugh. Max’s head lolls to the side, and when he spots you, his entire face lights up like you’ve just walked out of a movie.

“Hey!” He yells, voice loud enough to make a couple passing tourists glance over. “It’s you!”

You sigh, stepping forward to take him off Lando’s hands. “Thanks,” you mutter to the younger driver, who just grins.

“Good luck,” Lando says, clapping you on the shoulder before disappearing back into the club.

Max leans heavily on you, his arm slung over your shoulders. “You came for me,” he says, slurring slightly. “You’re like an angel. My angel.”

“Uh-huh,” you deadpan, guiding him toward the car. “Let’s get you home, Max.”

He stops abruptly, digging his heels into the pavement. “No, wait.”

You look up at him, exasperated. “What?”

“I need to tell you something.”

“Can it wait until we’re in the car?”

“No!” He insists, voice rising. “It’s important.”

You glance around, feeling the curious stares of a few people lingering nearby. “Okay, fine. What is it?”

Max wobbles slightly, gripping your arm like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. His eyes are glassy but serious as he looks at you. “I’m in love with you.”

You blink. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeats, louder this time. Then, almost conspiratorially, he leans closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Like, really love you. You’re … you’re perfect.”

“Max …” You hesitate, unsure how to respond.

“No, listen!” He says, pulling back to look at you. “You don’t understand. I’ve been in love with you for … forever. But I didn’t know how to say it, and now it’s too late, because you probably think I’m some idiot who-”

“Max,” you interrupt, placing a hand on his chest to steady him. “We’re engaged.”

His brow furrows. “What?”

“We’re engaged,” you repeat, holding up your left hand where the ring glints under the streetlights.

Max stares at it like he’s never seen it before. “No way.”

“Yes, way.”

His face splits into a grin so wide it’s almost childlike. “No. Way.”

“Yes, Max. We’re literally engaged. Have been for months.”

He takes your hand in his, squinting at the ring. “Holy shit. That’s a nice ring.”

You snort despite yourself. “You picked it.”

“I did?” He looks genuinely astonished.

“Yes, you did. And you cried when I said yes, remember?”

“I cried?”

“Like a baby.”

He lets out a delighted laugh, the kind that starts in his chest and bubbles all the way up. “I’m a genius,” he declares, throwing his arms in the air. “I got you to say yes!”

“Yes, Maxie. You did.”

He pulls you into a hug, nearly knocking you off balance. “I’m so lucky,” he mumbles into your hair. “Like, stupid lucky.”

“You’re also stupid drunk,” you point out, but there’s no bite to your words.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes wide and earnest. “Do you love me?”

You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “Of course I love you, you idiot.”

He beams at you, his happiness so pure it’s almost contagious. “Good. That’s good. Because I’m going to marry you.”

“Yes, Max. You are.”

“And I’m never going to mess it up.”

“Not if you keep calling me to pick you up from clubs at two in the morning.”

He looks horrified. “Wait, did I call you?”

“No,” you admit, “Daniel did.”

Max groans, burying his face in his hands. “That traitor.”

“Come on,” you say, tugging him toward the car. “Let’s get you home before you pass out on the sidewalk.”

As you help him into the passenger seat, he grabs your hand again, his grip surprisingly firm. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he says, his voice softer now.

“I know,” you reply, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

He closes his eyes, a contented smile playing on his lips. “I’m going to marry the hell out of you,” he murmurs as you buckle him in.

You shake your head, climbing into the driver’s seat. “You already are.”

And as you pull away from the curb, he’s still grinning like he’s just won the championship all over again.

[vifilms]

KNUCKLE VELVET, TORN ON MY TEETH

❝ VI!ONE SHOT ❞

pairing. pitfighter!vi x bartender!reader

warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: arcane season two spoilers, soft angst, smut, bartender!reader, crashout!vi mends her cold heart, inexperienced!vi, switch!reader + vi, fem coded reader, coded alcohol addiction, slight spit kink, strap use.

KNUCKLE VELVET TORN ON MY TEETH, there's something charming about the pitfighter who doesn't stop drinking until she reaches the bottom of the barrel and the bartender who keeps walking her home.

wc. 7k+

rayray yaps. popping my vi!oneshot cherry, hehe, and i'm happy to do so. the vi brainrot has been real as fuck lately. i fear it's not going away anytime soon. but i wanted to give a special shoutout to @hypnagogics for proofreading this fic, means sm to me ily + my sweet bubba, @absfawn for the title name, i could kiss you until my lips fall off. the best people ever, i love them so much. okay, now i have yapped enough! happy reading, hope you enjoy.

Trapped in the abyss, just when everything had been taken from her life seems to sacrifice another offering on a silver platter. Something else that she thought could be hers, but wasn’t. In the end, all of it was the same. Life is the same. She takes three steps forward, circumstances out of her control take her apart like enforcers imposing their will on Zaun, and she’s forced to move five steps back. It’s all she feels, powerless. 

Wanting nothing more than to drown her sorrows, forget all that she's lost. For everything that’s been taken, Vi feels an overpowering loss, threatening to take over everything she’s trying to build. But Vi thinks of none of it now, she can’t afford to think of one more thing. So, she doesn’t. All of her mind forgets. She forces herself to. 

Zaun, Piltover, Jinx, Vander, Silco, and Cait. 

She drowns in blood, sweat, and liquor for nights to come. She forgets everything and you are just the cherry top on this one shitty sundae. Anytime she’s here, Vi manages to get herself into a fight. Each time. Every time she tries to apologize or hold an ounce of guilt in her eyes, you see right through her crystal blues. From the very first night, you called her bullshit. Even if Vi didn’t give in, it was hard to hide her small smirk. 

She lets herself think it’s because you’re a bartender. You practically get paid to read people, listen to them vent about shit you probably don’t give two shits about and break up the fights that erupt every thirty minutes. Overinflated egos and drunken assholes weren’t a great mix. The jury was still out if you though Vi was one. She could have both, she didn’t really talk much. Vi fought, drank until she couldn’t see straight, and you helped her up to her small apartment right across the street and up the steps into her said apartment. 

No matter how hard she tries, it always ends the same. Vi looking like an imbecile and you, the pretty bartender who shuts down every advance she throws your way. Vi wonders who had a stronger shell, what you’re hiding in order to protect yourself. 

Maybe she is just an asshole. 

“You don’t have to walk me up here. I-I can make it just fine on my own.” 

As soon as your fingertips let go of her fragile frame, Vi’s inebriated body collapses on the concrete steps, grabbing onto the metal framing as if her life depends on it. 

“Really? Now you wanna prove a point?” 

“For your information, I’m always in it to prove a point.” 

Even if your words are harsh, with a soft smile and a hand open, Vi takes it as you let her lean on your weight as you assist her up the steps. There’s little shame to be had once the two of you make it in. It isn’t like the first time and when she noticed the scrunch of your nose in taking the smell, tequila and grease. Vi thought it was cute but she halts any further thought. 

Quickly, Vi disposed of her leather jacket and pants she’s left in boxers and the wrap protecting her chest. The part of her life that seems to be kept together. She doesn’t really mind it though, you. Seeing her like this. Even more so, she enjoys it. You’re always so dismissive at the bar, hardly holding eye contact, turning down any flirting she hurls your way. Just like the vomit Vi had nearly thrown up on your shoes but made a quick diversion for the bush to the right of her instead. 

This is truly the only time she knows you want her. Not so subtly, your eyes trace her like each pinpoint of your gaze is painting her on a clean canvas, one Vi wonders if she’ll like or not. When she’s been around you, she’s been wondering about a lot of things — thoughts she quite literally can’t afford. 

It’s her, nothing ever ends well when her feelings can get crushed on the other side. 

Everything she touches burns to ash before she can even hold it for a moment, a second of symphony retaliates with years of misery. How could you be any different? She wishes you would burn her underneath your gaze, put her out of the misery she feels growing every day, but you don’t. You’re always pulling her out of trouble when you truly don’t have to. It’s not your job to take care of her or hell, even look after her. 

But you do and she can’t seem to figure out why. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Just shut the fuck up and let me help you. Not everyone has a motive. Some people just like to help when someone is so clearly struggling.” 

“I’m not—” 

You give her a glare that seems to shut her up. You draw a bath for her. It’s easy to find her towels in the only cabinet. It’s an acute studio apartment. More so of a small room with a stove stop, minimal counter space, and one bathroom enough to bathe and brush her teeth in. There isn’t much left of it but it’s hers. Grabbing the first aid kit, you kneel between her legs, the mattress sits on the floor, her legs spread and stretching out in front of you. 

“Let me help you. Alright?” Vi grumbles, a incoherent complaint, but she lets you tend to her wounds. 

It’s mainly just cleaning off her dry blood as she still complains in the process, but there’s a few cuts on her face and her cheeks are already beginning to bruise. It’s not a secret, she bruises like a peach but she always makes sure her opponent is leaving a lot more with just a few cuts and a bruise the size of a plum. 

It’s then, when you’re concentrating on the cuts on her face, the busted lip she’s sporting; she looks at you. Maybe it’s the first time she has, but without even realizing it, she gets lost. Not in the way Vi doesn’t know who she is, that she’s completely lost on, but Vi sees you. 

Bright-eyed, optimistic, helpful, kind — all attributes she couldn’t claim but wears like a badge of honor. As if helping others instills you with a sense of purpose, something that’s always been a lost cause to her. Fight until the next fight, and the next, and the next. That’s what she’s done, she's always been a fighter. She’s fallen back on it when needed. It’s clear to her. Like a vision she could see, crystal clear through some stupid ball, it’s always been about survival. 

But how much longer does she want to fight and how much more does she have in her? 

“Thanks.” Vi speaks softly. 

Not knowing where to place her palms, she settles for her thigh. Silent as she watches, nearly analyzing every moment, every glance, every little thing you’re doing. It’s sobering to say the least. You don’t need to be delicate but you are. It’s more kindness than she deserves, nearly leaving a bitter taste on her tongue but when you offer a small smile and a soft whisper, you’re welcome. 

It’s the sweetest thing Vi has ever seen. 

There’s something different in the way you look at her. The soft omission exposes how sweet on Vi you may be. Definitely more than you’d let on, which was well…none. Up until tonight, she thought you hated her. With each word uttered in your direction, Vi assumed you’d rather swallow bile than stomach her slurred, flirty speech. 

“Why do you want to help? It’s not like I’ve exactly been—” 

“Kind?” 

“Yeah, something like that.” 

This time Vi lets the smile reach her eyes and your smile gets even sweeter. She can practically feel the sweetness rotting her teeth as she speaks. It’s the first time she feels something new, something as bright as the light radiating through your eyes. 

“You just seem different. Even if you do try to hide it.” 

With a flush of crimson coating the apple of her cheeks, she’s never been quite as exposed as this. The next few weeks are spent with less drinking, but Vi frequents the bar just as much as she did before. She orders a few pints just to talk to you. She’s learning more about you, slowly but surely, you’re opening up more. Divulging information you wouldn’t have before, trust is earned. It’s something you told her the first night you met and to this day, Vi still remembers it. 

Regardless of how drunk she’d been when you said it. 

It’s a typical night. Vi flirted with you but you aren’t being dismissive tonight but you’re careful enough to not let her know exactly how you feel. Everything you say is guarded enough you keep her on her toes, for a moment she thinks she might have to become a ballerina. It’s a slow night, Wednesday. Go figure Vi thinks. There was a woman who’d also been flirting with you all night. Vi thought she was beautiful, sweet, funny…certainly was making you laugh all night. 

Part of Vi wanted to feel jealous but it feels too good hearing you laugh, she says nothing. Maybe you just don’t like women. Vi was known for reading into things too much, thinking everyone thought with their heart first just like she did, and assuming every hot and attractive woman was into other women — just like she is. 

But the brunette left before closing, leaving Vi and a few other regulars paying their tab as they stumbled home with a belly full of liquor of their choosing. 

“Alright Vi, don’t you have somewhere to be? Maybe getting some sleep for the night?” 

“I don’t sleep much, it’s better if I don’t.” 

“Keeps the nightmares away.” 

All Vi does is nod. 

“Story of the century.” You take Vi’s empty pint before washing it dispersing in the sink before cleaning up the remainder of the bar top. “Everyone’s got one around here and the new one is usually even more depressing than the last.” 

“What about yours?” 

“If you wanna hear that, I’ll have to be the one doing the drinking.” You smile but it’s the first one Vi recognizes as insincere. 

“Yeah, seems to be the stone cold requirement for a heart to heart.” 

Vi’s silent as you vent to her about the customer who refused to pay up tonight until you threatened to kick his ass and that wasn't enough, you threatened Letty on him. Vi found herself only slightly entranced as you spoke with such color, your animated voice doing impressions of the stubborn patreon, moving your hands as you speak, eyebrows furrowed as you finished the story. 

You’re done cleaning and are ready to close by the time you finish, locking the door as Vi stuffs her hands in her pockets, “Can I ask you something?” 

You cling to your bag like a lifeline. Vi notices how tight your grip is on the strap, almost as if you’re afraid. Of what? She has a craving to find out. “Why’d you turn her away? She seemed plenty interested. Not your type?” 

You take a step forward, just as close as the last time you were in her apartment, tending to wounds she wouldn’t have really cared about but still she let you clean them. 

You didn’t have to know that. Not yet, anyway. 

“No, not really. I like my women a little rough around the edges, stumbling out of bars so wasted they can’t even walk home by themselves.” You smirk, grabbing the lapel of her leather jacket as you tug her closer to you. “Or is that what you want me to say?” 

“Is it true?” 

You both know the hope in her eyes is dangerous. 

Hope. 

A foreign concept in Zaun. If you get too close to the flame, you’ll get burned, dusting into ash as if you never existed. It’s what shimmer did to people, wipe them off the map until they reformed into a shell of what they used to be. You didn’t just get out of a place like this, not without some help. Vi could barely even help herself. 

The both of you know it’s a bad idea. A terrible, god awful idea, but you still move in closer to her. Vi notices and she wipes the smirk off her face, your warm hands finding purchase on her exposed hips, drawing soft circles on her hip bones. She likes it, even when her heart feels torn from being blown to bits by a certain blue-eyed beauty. 

Vi likes you. 

“Your skin is softer than I thought it would be, smooth like pure silk. Not that I’ve ever touched it before but I’ve got to believe it would feel a lot like this.” 

Vi feels a tingle up her spin, your touch is overwhelming, more than she bargained for really. A stumbling, messy kiss is all she really expected if anything. Not this. Clearly, you knew what to do. Leaving Vi a little clueless in that department, she’s knocked off her feet once again but this time in a way she wants to be. But actually bringing something this special to anything more than a few flirty quips? It never seems to be her strong suit. 

So, she puts her best foot forward. Her big stupid mouth, one she can never quite fully silence. “I can guarantee my lips feel a lot softer.” 

“Vi—” You speak her name like a warning, an unspoken law you’re breaking by entertaining your feelings and the bubbling sentiments you hold for her close to your heart. You know better than to keep it so close, but the halo in her eyes blinds you to reason and you let it. 

“It’s Violet but you can call me whatever you want, sweets.” 

You chuckle at the pet name. 

“Just one night. That’s it. Just to get it out of our system.” 

“One night, sweets. It’s all I need.” 

— 

It’s how you ended up here, the third night in a row since the first, trapped under the web of Vi and her eager mouth. Slender, perfectly sculpted fingers feel like a hex to your cunt, every moment causing you to fall further into her spell. To say she has a certain talent would be considered an understatement. It’s clear Vi’s enjoying herself, fuck, damn near suffocates herself in your weeping cunt. Last night wasn’t nearly enough, she needs to have you, again. Not that you were complaining. 

As much as you hate to admit it, there has been no one as generous as her. As good as her, as sweet, as kind, and she did whatever the hell you asked for. Nothing has beaten the first night, her thumping clit nudging against your as she hiked one of your legs over her toned shoulders. 

It’s not a secret how built she is, far from it, but it’s another thing entirely to watch her flexed bicep ripple with every grind of her hips. Each movement seems to be calculated with precision, focused on doing more than just making herself feel good. With pure determination, glazed over crystal blue eyes, and a pouty scarred lip, she makes sure you’re enjoying this as much as her. With each moan you let slip, her confidence only grows until she’s commanded full control over you. She takes what she wants from you and in return you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, constellations created in the shape of her name as you come. 

“That’s it pretty girl, just for me, yeah?” Vi talks you through  as she works you through your orgasm with her strong hips, not stopping even after you’ve cum. She wants more and Vi pulls three more orgasms out of you before she’s done for the night. You expected her to be good. There was no shocker there but you didn’t expect her to be so sweet afterwards. Vi is a drunk, an addict, whether she wants to accept it or not. You could be just another object she’s addicted to. Somehow, you convince yourself it’s just a one time thing. It doesn’t mean anything, it won’t. 

Truthfully it feels much more than just a one night stand, more than an itch being scratched — the blossoming ache in your soul feels tethered to your heart every time Vi makes you feel an ounce of love — even when she tries to hide it behind a wall. Whether you’re aware, the wall can’t seem to stop crumbling. Brick by brick, it’s coming undone just as you have. Weak-willed and with purpose, you fall into her. 

There isn’t an inch of your body Vi didn’t kiss. Her lips tattooing every inch of your skin with marked affection, almost as if she’s mending your skin with the burn of her lips. When she claims your soft lips, haunting you with the salvation of perfection as her velvet tongue invades your mouth, the taste of you melting from her tongue to yours. The silent declaration you didn’t ask for but craved, the carnal moan leaving her mouth as she chuckles when your hips pathetically grind into hers. 

Vi enjoys your company, that much is clear, but this time you bring her to your place. It’s more or less the same. Both of you coming down from the highest of highs, you feel sticky, dirty, and damn right heavenly. Vi disappears into your bathroom, grabbing a wash rag before dampening the material underneath a warm faucet. Carefully, she kneels by your hips, legs twitching softly as her skilled fingers find your slit before Vi’s sucking the digit in your mouth. 

“I just wanted one last taste before I clean you up.” 

As she has before, Vi makes good on her promise and cleans you up. She enjoys when the pad of her thumb grazes against your clit, terribly overstimulated, your stomach twitches. All Vi can do is chuckle. 

“I’m just a little—” 

“Sensitive?” Vi smirks as you hide your face in the palm of her hands, the pad of her thumb gently caressing your skin.  

It’s the lightest she’s felt in weeks. Almost as if she’s floating on a cloud, she wants to stay up there in the cloudiest of nines. Just you and her and an aging mattress as she offers you everything she can give. Albeit, it isn’t much but she’ll still freely give. 

Like a dog with a bone, Vi corners you on the third night when it’s just you and her in the bar. Closing time has long since arrived and vanished into the crisp air of the night but Vi has you bent over the bar, desperation clawing at the weathered countertop of the bar as Vi’s fingers fucks your pretty little hole while her tongue laps at the slick that’s dripping out of you. Your pretty little skirt pushed up, your panties pushed to the side as she laps and sucks at your juices. She can feel you dripping onto her chin and it only makes her that much more eager to swallow every bit you have to offer. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this—” Fuck. Vi starts doing tricks with her tongue, sliding in another finger, pushing against the soft spot buried deep as she toys with you in the way knows best. “We, um, Vi we said just one night.” 

“Shut the fuck up and take it like a good girl. Or did you forget?” Vi moans into your cunt, the vibrations causing your thighs to shake under her mouth. “It’s not like you were complaining last night.” 

Vi silences you as her pace picks up, her fingers fucking you at such a pretty pace, feeling the build grow in the pit of your stomach edging to come to a full bloom. 

All of you begging for it to be released. Vi uses her free hand to slap your ass, sending you moaning and lurching forward. You push yourself back grinding against her tongue, before she removes her divine mouth as she kisses up your spine, her fingers stuffed inside you not faltering for a moment. 

Vi continues to kiss up your spine until she reaches the nape of your neck, her breath kissing your skin, your body shivers into her touch. Full lips ghost over your ear before whispering quietly, “Are you sure you want me to stop? I will if you want me to. I just thought you might wanna, you know, take my cock tonight. Give it a good ride.” 

The moan you let out would put Aphrodite’s to shame, needy and choked sobs escape you as her fingers thrust inside you faster than they have before. 

“Oh? Do you like the sound of that, babygirl? Want to show me how good you can be for me?” Vi doubled down on her efforts, enjoying how much you arched into her body, your hips pushing back as you grind into quick fingers. She’s fucking you better than well…anyone. 

“Vi, please.” Your voice catches in your throat, hoarse and full of need. An insatiable craving; one you fear only she can provide. A few mindless days and careless flirting to land in her sheets, her in yours, the details didn’t truly matter. A vampire out for blood, almost more venomous than precious canines breaking the skin, you yearned to suck on every last drop. But she didn’t seem to be in a mind frame to relinquish control. 

“Please what? I’m not sure if I understand you.” 

All of it, so tantalizing, so fucking infuriating. Three fingers inside you, effectively making you silent, shutting you up as she brings you closer to the edge. That’s the thing, truthfully, Vi has you right where she wants. Only a few thrusts away until you come undone around her. The black haired succubus increases the pace, thumb playing with your clit, her calloused fingers increasing your high as she applies more pressure on the thousands of nerve endings on your precious pearl. 

“Shit. You’re gonna pay for this.” 

“What? For making you come? I hardly constitute that as a crime.” 

Your hands reach for the counter top, you’re not sure what exactly you want, but Vi makes you come for the first time that night. It’s a game, the push and pull. Dangerous. Intoxicating. Some disposition falling far from your fingertips, a game to her and a downward hill spiral for you. Addiction festering next to an open wound and the only antidote can be found on her tongue. Tasting the devil’s mouth is one thing but swallowing the sensation of the woman you’re beginning to love is something else entirely. 

Vi, despite her best efforts not to, makes you fall over the edge. It’s more than her eager tongue and expectant mouth slurping at the vindication of your taste. The craving builds like an exposed vein. Her confidence irrevocably soars like a raven through the midnight sky. Even if Vi acts like she’s done this before, you could pull the curiosity intertwined with naivety a mile away. Violet has never done this before, not with a woman at least, you’re sure of it. She’s a fast learner and such a great accomplishment should replenish such a reward. 

With the energy you have left, you push your skirt down first, as Vi puts your underwear back in place. She doesn’t stop touching you. She can’t. There isn’t much she feels she has control over, this arrangement being one of them. She’s good at this and Vi enjoys it. Every other part of her life, failure surrounds her, her ability not to please anyone in her life. 

In a constant loop, she finds herself caught in the crossfire. Tugged between sister and lover, family and righteousness. Her enemy becomes her lover and lover becomes enemy — all of it poisons her blood and cures her core — and all of it makes her hear a voice she doesn’t recognize but it’s just as true as the four walls surrounding her. 

Oil and water. 

Collecting like scars on her porcelain skin, Vi feels herself sink like an obliterating star. There’s a wonder settled in her chest, it feels heavy and weak, two incapable fists unable to surround her heart with anything but loss, betrayal even. She can’t punch her way out of this one.

All of it wakes a fire in her chest, a dagger being punctured in her heart by the one Vi thought she could trust the most. She doesn’t want to admit it so she doesn’t. 

But this? It feels easy. 

She needs easy, light, even good. Maybe she doesn’t deserve it. 

Vi definitely doesn’t, the sentence flows like a never-ending stream of waterfall continuously drowning her. The blood on her hands stains her perception of all things pure, she wonders how she even sees you at all. How you see her more vividly than anyone, possibly even Cait. There’s no judgment, no snarky remark of where she comes from. Even if she thought there had once been love, Vi questions it now. 

When you come, it feels like a breath of fresh air, a golden wave washing over her sinful hands. Each stroke of gold, your grit and blind hopefulness soaks Vi’s entity. This is what she wants. There’s nothing more than this, someone she could love, who loves her. It’s uncomplicated but the feeling flees as you come to it. Vi can’t help but feel regretful as you cover your ass, it’s such a pretty sight. She can’t stop that she’s greedy, you’ve fed her for the first time in her life and now Vi feels full but she’s only human. 

A sinner always craves more. 

She lets her touch linger on the gold between your thighs, pushing the white substance back into you before Vi lets you feel how wet you are, the dripping slick feels uncomfortable caged into cotton underwear and she wants you to feel it. The breath Vi hears are still heavy, impossibly heavy, and there’s pride in hearing you center yourself, back pressed against her chest as Vi keeps you in place. 

The pleasure within your body begins to slither away as you come back into the angel you are and not the sexual deviant bent over the woman who never pulls her punches. 

“Felt good, yeah?” Vi says. Her angelic, sweeter than the cotton candy stick in your teeth, voice penetrates through. You like it too much. It shouldn’t make you feel as good as it does. Desperately, you want to keep this casual but you’re even losing your footing. 

You pride yourself on the lack of attachment; you don’t need it. Never really had. But then with her it seems to change even faster than the seasons, your wall breaks somehow in between from spring to summer. With intent, you move around, her bright eyes have darken a bit but the fading light looks brighter than you’ve ever seen it. 

Fuck, Vi is making this difficult. 

“You could say that.” You speak softly, a tremble in your voice occurs but Vi says nothing but she does smirk. “Can I ask you something?” 

You turn around and suddenly Vi is staring at your exposed cleavage, the one you use to draw in patreons and to fill your pockets with as many tips as one can muster. Vi had been one, a faithful one trying to drink her away to the bottom of every bottle until she found something else for her. Something that didn’t leave a burn in her throat. 

“What is it?” 

“Was it your first time? The first night?” 

Sheepishly, Vi blushes. For a second, she contemplates lying but you’d see right through it. Right through her. It would only take one look in her blues and you would know. 

“That obvious?” Vi struggles with her words next but she manages to murmur a lame excuse. “Stillwater didn’t leave much time for this.” 

“And after?” You tease but the sincerity in your eyes soothes her. 

“There could have been but there wasn’t. Some things just don’t fit.” Oil and water is what she wants to say but she bites her tongue. 

“You should have told me. I wouldn’t have been so, I don’t know, selfish?” 

“There’s nothing selfish about it. I wanted to make you feel good. Did you enjoy yourself?” This time she makes your skin feel hot. Fuck. 

“Yeah, I did enjoy myself,” you pressed against her as your arms loop around Vi’s necks to bring her closer “but I think it’s officially my turn to offer my services. Don’t you think so?” 

It’s how Vi ends up here, in your place, in your bed — soaked. 

If there was one thing you knew, it was how to please someone. You managed to pull whimpers out of her she didn’t even know existed. The desperate plea coming from her shivering body as she spilled in your mouth the first time sent a shiver down her spine, the band in her stomach snapping as you sloppily spit on her cunt, constant circles of pressure on her clit seeing nothing but your eyes look up at her. 

Not letting a single drop go to waste, you fucked Vi through it, swallowing her completely. Vi shed the wrap covering her chest next. Her body bruised from the pit fights but you couldn’t think of anyone more beautiful than her. You paid attention to her collarbones, neck, and her tits. Sucking on her nipples as Vi tries to come down from the high you placed her on, she doesn’t think she ever will. 

She tries not to think that she wanted these things with Caitlyn. Cait. Cupcake. 

Vi only allows herself to think of her when she’s dreaming, visions of what that could have been, what she used to be. All of it so trivial, so senseless when she thinks of you. How you make her feel is different and she tries not to think of what it all means. 

One night. 

Then two. 

Now three. 

In another life, maybe she was stronger, and didn't need to be wanted. Hell, even needed. She could wait for someone who she thought loves her but the other part of her doesn’t want to think, she wants to feel. Vi likes feeling the softness of your skin, the light in your laughter, the swell of your exposed chest, the way your greedy eyes take in her abs, your soft lips kissing every part of her skin. The smooth, the scarred, the unworthy — you take it all in such stride. 

“Do you want to stop? I think I lost you for a second.” You inquire to the pretty girl beneath you, her hands find your waist, creating makeshift circles on your hip bones. 

“No, that’s the last thing I want.” Vi brings you to her lips, capturing your bottom lip, tongue invading your mouth. She tastes herself as your tongue melts with hers and the rest of her worries melt away. It’s just you and her. “I want to keep going.” 

“Then tell me what you want, baby. I’ll do whatever you want. It’s yours if you want it.” 

It’s spoken as a reminder. All of this is her decision. Vi decides when she wants this, how she wants it, and you’re letting her take all of it in the way she needs. Vi tried not to think the first couple times, she never wanted her first time to be a big deal. Maybe with Caitlyn it could have been, but then she changed. 

Vi thought maybe she could too. So, she did. 

“Can you—” Vi stutters. Yet again her attention gets pulled to your tits, the softness of your stomach, she can’t stop looking at you. As if she’s trying to remember everything about you. She’s committed to it. Vi wants to remember the soft curves of your hips, the way you moan when she comes on your tongue. 

The sight of you looking down at her makes she lose every rational thought, she wants to commit to memory forever. It won’t be something she easily forgets. 

“Gotta speak up, babygirl. Especially if you want me to keep my attention focused on this pretty cunt of yours.” 

You sit between her legs, tilting your head, you look at her glistening pussy, the way it shines with her cum and your sloppy spit. It would look even more exquisite with a little more. Taking a beat as you take your time, you gather enough in your mouth before spitting slowly, Vi whimpering as your spit makes contact with her lower pair of lips. She couldn’t stop it, it slips and you’re grinning, hips desperately bucking to feel more of it. 

“F-Fuck, need your cock. Please? I need it more than anything.” Vi confesses. There’s no need for dignity, especially if she keeps it and you won’t give her what she’s itching for. 

“Yeah? Are you sure about it? Don’t want you backing out just in case you can’t be a good girl and take it.” 

She can take it but she can’t take the countless teasing, trapped underneath the images drowning in her mind. This is what she wants, someone to dissolve into her, make her forget everything that has happened, just a pretty girl with some pretty tits who knows how to fuck. Right? That’s all this is. It’s all it can be tonight. Her lip is busted from the fight tonight, knuckles bloodied and bruised, but you don’t seem to mind all that much. It’s all the same to you. Vi is all the same, that’s been clear from the start. 

Then, she decides to let her mind get shut off, let herself fall into you. You did know how to take care of her and tonight she would let you. 

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” 

“I promise.” 

Once the harness is on, you wedge yourself in between her thighs, tattooed and toned, brave and brawny but she transforms into someone else entirely once you’re sinking inside her warm walls. You think about what it would feel like to feel her. Is she clenching around your cock? Would you feel the throbbing heartbreak of her clit? What you can hear is the whimper, uncontrollable and breathtaking, you slip further into her as you make home in her beautiful cunt. 

She’s made it yours to take. You’d do anything and everything for her, the thought alone scares so you do what you do best, you grind your hips slowly. Not wanting to overwhelm her too quickly, it’s the first time she’s taking penetration and you want it to be good for her. 

“You’re so perfect. Doing so good for me, taking my cock like a fucking champ.” You whisper out, taking too much enjoyment in her getting lost in your soft thrusts. Vi’s chest starts to heave as her hips roll into yours. Vi never even imagined wanting this, or that she could really have it with someone else. It’s not like she’s experienced, she has nothing to compare it to, but it feels incredibly intimate. 

She likes how you’re being with her. Soft, gentle, delicate. Vi thought she’d never want to feel that way, but maybe it’s just under the right circumstance in the right light. 

“Shit, shit, shit” Vi chants as your hand grabs the headboard, giving her one particular powerful thrust. Perky tits spring to life, jolting against the sudden movement, her moan so fucking load, as you continue your movements. This time not as hard, but you pick up your pace, wanting to see if she would have any arguments against it but Vi doesn’t. Profanities and whimpers leave her mouth as you split her on your cock. Face half-smashed into the pillow, trying to muffle her moans and you offer this one mercy. 

She’s still shy. 

Now is a good time as any to fuck it out of her. 

“Do you want more Vi? Want me to go…faster?” Placing a hand on her abdomen, the abs defined and clenching as you halt your thrust for a moment. “Do you wanna feel me in your stomach, baby?” 

“Can you even do that? I’m not so sure you’re even capable. Looks like the rookie knows more moves than the veteran.” Vi bites back. But it doesn’t last for long. Vi thinks she must have said the wrong thing, pushed you too far, you slipped off her but only to move her body to the edge of the bed, placing her on all fours right in front of a very convenient mirror. 

“Fine. Thought I’d be sweet but that isn’t what you really want. If you want to get treated like a whore, I’ll fuck you like one.” You take a beat to appreciate her wonderfully sculpted back, the artwork is truly exquisite. It feels so much like her but the foolish girl is smirking at you through the mirror. 

You know you’ve been caught ogling at her body, checking out every inch of her exposed body, you slap her ass in retaliation but she just grinds her ass back onto you. 

“I’m waiting.” Teasingly, Vi arches her spine more. “Where’s the whore fucking you’re muling about?” 

In one move, you’re inside her, fucking her beautiful face into the mattress. Never in her life has she felt so full, so good, so sweet. You grab her by the meat of her hips, bringing you back on her repeatedly. Vi wonders what she would give to have this, have you, and the thought scares her just as badly. She instead focused on you. 

Tits bouncing as you thrust into her at a punishing pace. Divinely and so perfectly you, making her see stars, she feels trapped. Not in a punishing way, but in a way that has her never wanting to leave the entrapments of your coaxing cock. At this moment, this is where she’s meant to be, just a toy for you to use. 

But it’s more than what meets the eye. If Vi was just a toy, you’d be done after the first night. Tonight, you weren’t using her for your own pleasure. You seemed perfectly content to give. The shine in her eyes gave you something only she could, edging you even further, a constant wave hitting Vi like a tidal wave making home on the shore. 

“God, you’re just too perfect. Fuck, just like that, take what’s yours.” Bouncing back on the strap, the words fall from her lips before she can’t stop them. Overflowing like a water fountain, it’s before she really even realizes what she’s saying, it just feels right. 

“Mommy, please.” 

Vi has had those words on the tip of her tongue but not that you’re fucking her into a different dimension, she lets the aching plea slip from sinful lips. It’s only once but it’s enough to set you off. You pull Vi up, her gorgeous back pressed against your chest, sitting on your thighs as you fuck up into her. Brutally, she takes everything you have to give. 

Sweat glistening across her body, accentuating her chest as she tries to compose herself  but you don’t give her the option. No. It would be too easy, wouldn’t it?

“I want you to watch, Violet. Watch yourself when you cum, be a good girl and show me how pretty you look, hm? Wouldn’t wanna disappoint, Mommy, now would you?” 

Vi sucks on your middle digit, tongues swirling as she feels the tight band in her stomach, threatening to snap. She’s close. When the sensationally soft pad of your thumb applies pressure on her clit, Vi’s done for. 

“Shit, oh my fucking god, baby baby babbyyyyy.” Incoherent murmurs and moans come in abundance as Vi bounces herself your cock, falling right apart as you toy with her clit, fucking her through the impending high. Your other arm tweaks around and up, fingers squeezing her tits, over stimulating her as she slumps against you. 

It’s the easiest task ever done. Submit to you, your skilled fingers, the power of your sinfully sensational thrusts, she comes all over you. The powerful demeanor weakens before your very eyes. When you gently move her back on the bed, slipping out of her, Vi’s eyes begin to water from the loss. 

The first time getting strapped down is always a lot to handle, you’d still taken it easier on her, too afraid you would push her too far but by the blissed out eyes, she’d enjoyed herself. She had enjoyed herself and you couldn’t really ask for much more. 

When the both of you are cleaned up, Vi cuddles into your frame and you let her. Even if your first instinct is to push her away, saying something you know that’ll hurt her, none of it finds any merit on your tongue. For the first time, you find it difficult to turn away a pretty girl, her lips kissing your collarbones, up your neck until she finds home on your own lips, sloppily invading your mouth with your tongue. 

Hitting you where it hurts, she moans your name in her mouth, unable to contain the neediness she feels around you. It’s worse than Cait. This is pure addiction entangled with something carnal. Vi knows if she doesn’t get to fuck you again, you fucking her cunt again, she might as well give up on life now. 

“I could go again.” 

You chuckle. Of course she could. 

“Don’t know rookie, that might be all you can handle for the night.” 

It’s a challenge and you know she’ll bite the bait. 

With ease she gets on top of you, and just as if she’s done it a hundred times, Vi sinks on your cock, “I think I can handle another ride, don’t you?” 

[monstersholygrail]

Imagine being an Bartender in the free use city, customers giving double the tip *wink*

Working as a Bartender in the Free Use City was never really that bad of a gig. Sure, you got hit on more than the usual bartender and sometimes the lines got backed up because you were busy fucking someone, but all in all it wasn’t that bad.

One would think the night life in a Free Use City would get even more wild compared to the day life. But during your time here you quickly found it to be the opposite. As the sun set it seemed like the people began to calm. Probably growing tired from a busy day of fucking. But there were always a handful of monsters whose appetites were never quite filled…

A knock rings on the bar counter, immediately catching your attention. You wipe down a glass and put it away, turning toward the counter to see a Tentacle Monster waiting, an easy grin on his face.

“Can I just have a shot of tequila, sweet thing?” He asks, voice as smooth as silk and his tone dripping with the promise that he definitely doesn’t just want a shot.

You raise a brow at him but nod anyway. He was hot as fucking hell. If he wanted more than a shot you sure weren’t going to be the one to shoot him down. Your lips quirk to the side, mirroring his expression.

“Sure thing,” you murmur as you pour the drink.

The whole thing takes about three seconds of you pouring the drink and two seconds for you to pass it. Tentacle Monster doesn’t look away from your gaze as he picks up the glass and downs it with a single gulp. He puts it back down and the clang of glass on wood has you jumping, your every nerve aware of him.

His eyes simmer with lust and yours are just as dark with need. His tentacles shift restlessly. You notice the way they crawl toward you before they fall back as if they have a mind of their own and he has to restrain them.

“You know, you have provided me with such wonderful service. You deserve more than just a tip,” he rasps, leaning in closer to you.

It’s like you’re under his spell as you lean forward too. Neither of you stopping until you can smell the alcohol he just drank on his breath. For some reason it only turns you on further. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and you can practically taste his drink.

“Like a double tip?”

Tentacle Monster chuckles, his smirk only widening as his eyes flicker over your features. Catching every little expression you make. Seeing the need written all over your face.

You cry out loudly, bucking wildly on the Tentacle Monster’s tentacles in the storage closet of the bar. Your eyes roll back as three of his slick lengths pump their way inside your holes, stretching you further than you thought you could take.

“T-this is definitely more than a double t-t-tip,” you stammer, the jostling of his tentacles breaking up your speech.

More of them curl around your waist and your arms, helping to slam you back down on his sensitive tentacles. He chuckles darkly, getting a deep satisfaction watching you become a mess on him.

“More than a double and more than the tip,” he growls out, picking up the pace.

You throw your head back, releasing a strangled scream of pleasure. You try and keep up with his frantic pace as much as you can but your body starts to shake as you grow closer to the edge. All you can do is sag against him and let him take you for the ride of your life. His tentacles reaching further inside of you than any monster in this city ever has before.

He makes a mess of your mind and your body, fucking you dumb and boneless. His tentacles are the only keeping your plush form upward as they tighten around your body and piston deep inside your tight heat. The second his tentacles suction onto your walls, stimulating your nerves in a way you swear nearly sends you to heaven, you’re coming all over him. Your body explodes in a euphoric haze of bliss and weak moans spill from your lips.

Tentacle Monster continues to thrust his tentacles deep within your core. Your hole clenches around his tentacles as he slips a few more smaller ones inside of you, body so sensitive but so eager. His movements grow more sloppy as you do and a second later he’s shooting his cum as far inside of you as his tentacles can reach. You moan as he fills you up even more, even spurt of cum has you twitching around him.

A lazy fucked out smile rests on your face. Even as Tentacle Monster loosens his hold and you smack down against his chest. Light airy giggles leave you and it takes all your strength to lift up a hand and wave.

“Hope you enjoyed my service here with you today, come again soon,” you mumble in your practiced customer service voice.

His tentacles pulse inside of you and you gasp, your body prickling with the desire that seems to grow in the room once more. You feel his tentacles tease at your skin and curl inside of you, turning you on all over again.

“Cum again you say?”

[no-144444]

the grid: when they admit they love you!

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featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.

this is 18+ so mdni please! smut in some of them!

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Oscar Piastri: fumbling and scared 

You sat at the reception of McLaren, and every single day he was terrified of making a fool of himself. You were the cool, pretty receptionist he’d already gone on 3 dates with, and this Friday he was going to ask you to officially be his girlfriend. The conversation between you two flowed easily when it was just you two, but with other people there… he was less than smooth. Your desk mate, the other receptionist had a knack for gossip, and she was kind of scary, she he tried to steer clear of her when he could. 

“Morning,” you smiled as he walked in the door. 

“Morning,” he smiled back, leaning on your desk. “How are you?”

You started signing him into the building (he ‘lost’ his access card months ago, aka he threw it away and didn’t try to get a new one, just so he could have some reason to talk to you). “I’m good, looking forward to Friday,” you smiled. “You?”

He beamed, grinning like a kid. “Me too.”

“Oscar!” Chris (the guy who has the biggest crush on you ever) clapped a hand on his back, much too hard. “Buddy, I got you a new access-card! Now you can stop bothering the pretty lady here, right?”

“Chris, it’s no bother, I do it every morning-” you tried to diffuse the situation. You didn’t exactly want Osccar to have to deal with Chris, he was such an asshole.  

“Yeah, but it’s one less thing off your plate baby,” he winked at you and Oscar felt something twist in his stomach when you grimaced at the pet name. 

“Don’t call her that,” he told him. “She has a name, it’s Y/n. Use her name.” 

“Dude, I know you wouldn’t get it, but some people date other people,” Chris chuckled like a scumbag. “And me and her are together, so back off.”

Oscar laughed. He actually laughed in your co-workers face. “You’re funny, man.”

Chris laughed along. “I know right.” 

Oscar took the access card from him, leaned over the desk and pressed his lips to yours, like he’d done many times before, and carried on to his meetings. Chris stood there shocked, then walked back to his desk like a wounded puppy. 

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Friday rolled around and you were both sat on his couch watching Cars, when he turned to you. “I’m sorry about Monday,” he admitted. “I know it wasn’t the right thing to do and it probably made it worse but I just-”

“It worked,” you told him. “He hasn’t spoken to me all week, but he has been trying to report you to HR for me, but every time he does I just tell them I didn’t make the claim and then report Chris for being weird. It worked perfectly. He’s such a dick,” you chuckled. 

He watched you as you chuckled, the way your nose scrunched, the flyaway hairs on your forehead framing your face, your soft lips, you gorgeous eyes. “I love you,” he said, softly, but you looked up with wide-eyes all the same. He’d shocked himself too. “OHmygodIamsosorryIknowit’swaytooearlyand-”

You just started laughing, literally falling into his lap. You laughed against his chest and after a moment, he joined you. 

“You’re such a dork,” you smiled brightly as you ran a hand through his hair, then gently caressed his cheek. “I love you too.”

He beamed. “Can I be your boyfriend?” 

You nodded, then kissed him gently. Cars and a pretty girl as his girlfriend? Could his Friday night get any better? 

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Lando Norris: sweet and sincere (for once)

He watched as you walked from the edge of the water into it, splashing around with Mila. It was your first Norris family holiday, and yeah, maybe he had lied to you and told you it would just be you two to trick you into meeting his family only 5 months into your relationship. Maybe you were super mad at him to the point of barely speaking to him unless in the group. But also, maybe Lando was watching the love of his life play with his niece, and maybe he didn’t care that he’ just called you that. 

“Lala!” Mila called, running up to him. “I really like Y/n, can we keep her?” 

You came up behind her, chuckling lightly at her statement. He stared at you for a moment. You were sunkissed (and a little sunburn on your nose), with a bright smile, wet hair and a beautiful blue swimsuit on. You looked ethereal to him. So stunningly gorgeous that he barely knew what to say. 

“Come on kiddo, let’s grab you a snack,” you picked back up your smile and started to walk over to his sister, sitting under another umbrella with all the snacks and drinks in the world. Lando just stared at you when Mila asked. You’d thought that him inviting you on a family holiday would mean something, you must’ve thought wrong. 

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As dinner rolled around, the conversation flowed smoothly as the sun set on the horizon. 

“I’m going to go for a walk on the beach front,” you told the table once meals were finished. They waved you off and off you went. The beautiful sea and stars in the sky caught your attention as your red dress flowed in the wind. It was magical, the warm air, the magnificent views, all of it. The sand beneath your feet was warming your feet and you stopped to look out on the ocean. The soothing, calm waves with the scent of salt made you smile. You’d always loved the beach. 

“You look beautiful,” Lando’s voice made you jump, and you searched for him until you realised he was right beside you. 

“Thank you,” you smiled softly. He wrapped a hand around your waist and turned you to face him. 

He’d been quiet at dinner, too busy trying to think of how to get you to talk to him again, and how he could finally confess his love for you. It was almost overwhelming, the fact that he was in love. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that it was a family trip,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

You sighed. “It was pretty shitty…” you reminded him. “But I’ve been having fun with them. You come from good people. Makes sense.”

He smiled brightly at your compliment and pressed his forehead against yours. “Thank you for not leaving once you found out.”

You chuckled. “No problem.”

“I adore you,” he admitted. “More than anything. I fucking love you.”

Your eyes widened and you stood there with your jaw dropped. “Holy shit,” you cursed under your breath and he giggled. 

“You don’t have to say it back or anything, I just wanted to tell you,” he clarified, once he’d stopped laughing. 

You smiled at him, chuckling. “I love you too, Lando, of course I do. Even when you do stupid shit like invite me to a family holiday.” 

He laughed, burying his face in your neck. “I already said ‘I’m sorry’!”

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George Russell: of course…

He smiled as he crossed the finish line, finally  winning another race. 

“Well done George!” his engineer cheered, congratulating him as the garage erupted into celebrations. 

When he was finally out of the car, all interviews were over, and all that was left was to take a few team photos, he was given a moment to seek you out. You’d hugged you at the barricade, but since then he hadn’t seen you. You were busy signing things for fans, little girls who wanted to be ‘just like you’ one day. You smiled and told them they would be, that their dreams of being olympic gymnasts weren’t far-fetched. He smiled, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He was covered in champagne, and you groaned, making the small group of girls laugh. 

“George!” you groaned, pushing him off.

“What?” he smirked, pulling you back in. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, as the group of girls moved on with a giggle and a wave. “You look stunning.”

“You’re wet,” you dead-panned. “Congratulations, winner.”

He grinned. “I love you.”

You stared at him for a moment, a gentle disbelief in your eyes. “Really?”

“More than anything.”

“Not just because you're drunk on champagne?”

“Nope, I genuinely love you,” he chuckled. “Sorry,” he shrugged, unapologetic. 

You beamed, then kissed him. “I love you more.”

He shook his head. “Not possible.” 

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Kimi Antonelli: nervous 

He smiled as he opened the door to his apartment and found you on the other side. 

“Ready?” you asked, holding up a very big paint can, and some rollers. He had asked you to help him decorate his new apartment, in Monaco, and you’d thankfully agreed. You, his girlfriend / race engineer, had also just moved to Monaco, next door, in fact.

He let you in and you both began to set up the room, tarping the hardwood floors, taping off the skirting boards, and enjoying the soft music and sunny weather outside the window. You finally opened the paint and got to work. He thought you looked adorable, actually wearing paint-splattered overalls (courtesy of you repainting your entire apartment just a week ago), with a concentrated face. His eyes followed you across the room, meticulously taping every inch of the skirting board, making sure that none of the blue paint would ruin the white. 

“What?” you asked, looking back at him. 

He blushed and shook his head, finally understanding the emotions he felt for you everyday. He loved you. “Nothing.”

You raised an eyebrow and walked over, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. “You sure?”

He nodded, much too nervous to tell you. He looked away, pretending to be engrossed in messing with your pockets. 

You shrugged, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Alright,” you let go of him and walked back to the side of the room that you were working on. 

He’d tell you, one day. 

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Lewis Hamilton: smooth about it

He smirked as you walked out from your bedroom, clad in one of his shirts and some tiny sleep-shorts, excited about finally sitting down to watch the movie. It had been a difficult triple-header, and he hadn’t been around. But finally, the season was over, and he could invite you over to start enjoying the Christmas festivities. He loved this. He loved the casual, regular things you two did. He liked the way you cuddled up to him on the couch, he loved the way he knew you’d definitely fall asleep before the film ended, he loved you-

Oh.

He loved you. 

He chuckled and you looked at him confused. 

“You alright?” 

He chuckled. “All good baby,” he nodded, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“What was that about?” you questioned further, putting the remote down. He ran a hand through your hair, looking at you with all the love in the world. 

“Just love you,” he shrugged as your jaw dropped. He chuckled, watching a million emotions run through you. 

“You’re such a dick!” you playfully hit him on the shoulder. “I wanted to say it first!”

He laughed and pulled you into his arms, holding you closer. “I’m sorry baby.”

You scoffed. “No you’re not.”

He shook his head. “No I’m not.” 

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Alex Albon: oh… yah. 

He sighed as he opened the door to his driver’s room. He was exhausted, another race down, another weekend closer to the end of this. 

“Hey,” you smiled. 

His mood picked up, knowing you were there. His best friend. “Hey,” he smiled, pulling you into a hug. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Surprise?” you shrugged. “I wanted to come see you.” 

He smiled, pressing his face into your neck inhaling the smell of your perfume, feeling much more at ease than he did before. “I thought you couldn’t make it today.”

“I did, but I won't be able to be in Qatar or Abu Dhabi,” you admitted, breaking the bad news. You could feel him frown. 

“Why not?”

“I'm busy for the next two weeks with work. Then I have the whole couples retreat thing and then-”

“Pardon? Couples retreat?”

“This guy I’m seeing is saying we should go, I think it’s a swinging thing though, I’m not exactly into it. But non refundable tickets and I would like a holiday before I have to deal with our families all Christmas,” you explained with a chuckle.

His world crumpled around him. “You’re seeing someone?”

You nodded. “Yeah, he’s… nice,” you smiled. “Don’t worry, you won’t be meeting him for a while, he’s not even my boyfriend yet-”

You stopped talking because he’d started kissing you. He hadn’t really connected the dots before. He liked how close your families were, he liked being your best friend, he liked being around you all the time. He liked being the person you’d come to about things. He didn’t like other people liking you. He’d been your personal bodyguard throughout your teenage years, and he had shooed off every guy, just because he was protecting you, right? It had nothing to do with the fact that he wanted both of you to wait and be each other's first kiss, like you’d promised when you were 10. 

Oh shit. He was in love with you. 

He pulled back with wide-eyes. “I’m in love with you.”

You broke out into a smile. “I love you too.”

He grinned like a little kid. 

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Franco Colapinto: shy? For once?

He froze as he heard your voice from behind. He hadn’t been home in months, too busy with racing to visit. But Christmas rolled around as it always did, and so did every single family friend. 

“Franco!” his mother’s voice rang out. “Come here!”

He turned and was met with your eyes. He felt himself blushing already.

“Y/n’s here!” she cheered. You offered a small wave and a smile, which he mirrored. 

“It’s good to see you again,” you  smiled. “Happy Holidays.”

He nodded. “You too.”

“How’s F1 going?”

“Good, well. I like it,” he scratched the back of his neck. 

“Well, we’ve all been cheering you on from here,” you smiled. “I can’t wait to see what you do next year.”

He smiled and nervously chuckled. “Thank you.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

As he watched you over the coming days, enjoying your company, even when he wasn’t the centre of your attention, he found himself becoming even more shy, even more confused, and increasingly love-sick.

He just had to find a way to make himself tell you, easy, right? 

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Logan Sargeant: idek

Y’know how you’re told that when boys like you, they’ll bully you? That’s bullshit, they’re just bullies and their parents make excuses for them. 

You watched as Logan got into your car, getting ready to drive it, and you felt yourself tense up. You’d never gotten along with Logan, growing up in the same racing series, only you pivoted to Indycar and he went to F1. Now he was about to drive your car. You’d never been more nervous. You were the Indycar champion this year, the first women to do it, and you were proud. Giving your car over to Crash-Sargeant wasn’t exactly your choice, but you still had hope that he could drive it. 

You went up to him as he was about to get it, and grabbed his hand, holding him in place. “If you fucking car my car I will cut your balls off Sargeant. Don’t fuck with me, alright?” you whispered, getting close enough to feel his breath on your cheek. He smirked and nodded, ripping his hand out of your grasp.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He was already hearing wedding bells. Utterly and totally in love with you. 

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Daniel Riccardo: nothing like a big gesture, right?

He dropped you off outside departures, a sad smile on his face. “Don’t want you to go,” he sighed.

You rolled your eyes, then wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as his hands circled your waist. “What’re you doing today?”

“Stuff for Enchanté,” he explained. 

“That’s why you can’t come this weekend? Not up to being my WAG in Haas?” you smirked, pressing small kisses to his cheeks as you spoke. 

“God no, I only go there for Nico,” he smirked. “And you’re replacing him today.”

You rolled your eyes, letting god of him. “Fuck you!” you called after you, trying to suppress a smile. He watched as you walked off, shaking your head and he thought about everything. Every night he went to sleep with you in his arms, every morning he woke up beside you, every smile he saw, every laugh he made happen, every hug or kiss he got from you. He smiled, realising the truth. 

He loved you. 

Therefore he ran after you, making a huge scene in the airport. When he finally made it up to you, there were 2 security guards chasing him, so he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you harshly, a bright smile on his face. “I love you,” he smiled when he pulled away. 

“You’re going to get fucking arrested!” you stressed, wide-eyed and shocked at his behavior. 

“For being in love?”

“No, you idiot, for bypassing security and running through an airport without a ticket! Go back!” you pushed him off of you with an exasperated and amused smile.

“I love you!” he called after himself as he was taken away by the security guards. 

“I love you too, you fucking idiot!” you scoffed. “You have a phone, y’know!” 

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Liam Lawson: will NOT speak to you at any cost

Being in love with one of his mechanics probably wasn’t the greatest idea, but the heart wants what the heart wants, and his wanted you. 

“Liam can I-?” you started, but he just walked away, his eyes glued to the floor. You followed behind him, trying again and again to get his attention, but he continued ignoring you, and you'd had enough. “Fuck’s sake- Liam! Stop being such a dick! I don’t know if you just don’t respect me, or if you don’t like me, but I’m a mechanic on your time, and I'm asking if there’s anything you want us to change about your car to make you more comfortable. Just answer me that simple question and I promise I won’t bother you again all weekend!” 

He froze on the spot. “I’m in love with you-” he blurted out, then clapped a hand over his mouth. “The car is fine, sorry. Thanks.”

Then he walked off, leaving you in a stunned silence. 

What the fuck had he just done?

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Charles LeClerc: weirdly calm about it

You two sat on (one of)  his (many) yacht(s), overlooking the gorgeous Monaco bay. He had an arm around you, both of you dressed in comfortable clothes with nothing to do for the entire weekend. Oh, how he adored the off-season. You were too busy reading a book to notice the way he was looking at you. In the simple, silent moment it hit him suddenly that he was in fact, in love with you. And it didn’t scare him the way previous girlfriends confessing such things to him had. It felt right, completely normal, even. 

“Do you want anything?” you yawned. 

“Pardon?” he asked, too busy in his own world. 

“I’m ordering food, do you want something?” 

“I’m alright, but let me get it,” he offered and you scoffed.

“Fuck off Percvél. I can pay for my own food,” you chuckled, getting up and walking further into the boat. 

He chuckled, watching after you. 

Wow, he was mature. And, in love. 

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Carlos Sainz: definitely not freaking out

“I love you,” you confessed as the two of you cosied up at the beach. It had been a brilliant holiday, the two of you actually getting to spend some time together. 

He looked at you with wide-eyes. 

“Sorry if that was too soon, or too much. I just… wanted you to know. You don’t have to say anything back- of course.” 

While you were catastrophising, he was freaking out. You loved him. You told him you loved him. Holy shit. 

He stuttered for a moment, making you grimace. You’d fucked it up, definitely. There was no way he felt the same, right? You were probably just a 7 month long hook-up to him, right? 

“I love you too,” he smiled, then pressed his lips to yours.

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Arthur LeClerc: accidental

“Arthur is so whipped!” his friend laughed, watching as Arthur helped you set the table for dinner. Arthur just laughed, whereas, you frowned. Did Arthur think you were too clingy? Too demanding? Too much? 

Throughout dinner, you were pretty quiet, and you didn’t even let Arthur help you clean up. You went to bed early as he entertained the guests alone, and when he came to bed, there was a pillow between either sides of your bed. He frowned. 

“Baby,” he cooed, wrapping his arms around you and placing your head in the crook of his neck. “What is the problem?”

You sniffled. “It’s nothing,” you shook your head. “I’m sorry.”

He felt his heart warm when you held on to him, revelling in the fact that you would choose him to comfort you. “It’s just what-”

“Please don’t tell me you took to heart the comment Harry made?” he scoffed. You were quiet. “My love, I love you, I like helping you, I like being there for you, I like kissing and hugging you. If he has a problem with that then he can fuck off,” he chuckled, then stopped when he realised what he’d said. 

“You love me?” you sniffled, raising your head to look at him. 

He smiled. “Of course I do,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Always.” 

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Ollie Bearman: overwhelmed 

He smiled as he watched you dance on the dancefloor of the club. You looked so free and happy, smiling brightly with friends as the lights flashed and the music was loud enough to feel it in your entire body. 

“Dude, you two are so in love, it’s adorable,” Paul, his friend, pointed out. 

“I don’t- we’re not-”

“Haven’t said it yet?” Paul chuckled. “You should. I think she’d say it back.”

Ollie nodded, trying to pretend his entire world hadn’t been flipped upside down. You. Love. He wasn’t in love, right? All boyfriends wanted their girlfriends beside them at all times, right? All boyfriends missed their girlfriends so much that they flew them out to every race, right?  All boyfriends had begged their girlfriends to meet his parents, and vice versa only months into getting together, right?  All boyfriends felt suffocated when their girlfriends weren’t around, right? 

Oh shit, he was in love with you. He stepped outside to get some air.

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After a while of not seeing Ollie, you went outside to find him. You found him, leaning against the wall of the club, staring off into space. 

“Alright?” you asked, gently placing a hand on his cheek. 

He looked at you and smiled. “Alright,” he nodded, wrapping his hands around your waist. 

“Why’d you leave?” you asked. 

“Needed some air,” he admitted. It wasn’t untrue. 

“For 30 minutes?” you questioned and he knew he’d been caught. “Did Paul say something stupid? Need me to beat him up for you?” 

He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. “No, I’m alright. I was just… thinking.” 

“Dangerous pastime,” you teased and he chuckled. “What about?”

“You,” he confessed. 

“What about me?”

“I’m in love with you,” he answered nervously. 

“Oh yeah?” you smiled and he nodded. “Good thing I love you too.” 

Wow, Paul was right, for once. 

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Max Verstappen: strange man 

He watched from the other side of the plane as you played chess against his mother, bright smiles on both of your faces as the game progressed. He noticed the way your nose crinkled, the way your eyes shone, the comfortable position you sat in. He thought of every moment he got to share with you, and he almost teared up thinking of the best ones. He loved you. But he wouldn’t tell you, not yet. 

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He thrust into you, euphoria so close he could almost touch it. “Good girl, he groaned, feeling your nails in his back. “Taking me so well.” 

You just moaned against his skin, too cockdrunk to really notice what was going on around you. Max was a 4 time world champion. He’d done it. The first thing he’d wanted was to fuck you silly in his hotel room.

He was close, he slowed down his thrusts, much to your dismay, and slowly but firmly continued. 

“I,” thrust. “Love,” thrust. “You.” 

And he came inside you as you screamed into his shoulder, reaching your own peak. He hadn’t even meant to say it, it just came out (see what I did there? 😀). He stared down at you as you looked back up at him with wide eyes. 

“You love me?” you questioned. 

He nodded, his mouth dry. He was trying to focus on the softness of this moment, whilst also having to deal with your tight walls around his cock. Torture. 

“I love you too,” you smiled, flipping him over and straddling him. He groaned when he saw you on top of him and he was hard again. “Let me take care of you, yeah? My winner,” you smirked before starting to move on his cock. 

He was in for a long night. But a long night with the woman he loved. 

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Paul Aron: finally is a victim of humility 

“Paul, just tell her!” Ralf, his brother, argued. “She adores you, you’re in love with her, it’s alright!” 

“But… what if she doesn’t say it back?” He asked, much more insecure than he meant it to sound. He wasn’t used to being unsure when it came to romance. Paul had always been the type of guy to get any girl he wanted, with you it had been different. You’d hated his guts. He had to prove to you he was a good guy, then you’d finally gone out with him, and fast forward a year, he was trying to figure out how to tell you he loved you. He’d only realised it last night, when you were waiting in his apartment with dinner made for the two of you for the simple reason ‘just because’. In that moment he’d wrapped his arms around you and kissed you to stop himself from ruining the night and confessing right then and there. 

Ralf groaned. “You are impossible!” 

When did love become so complicated?

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Jack Doohan: so not casual 

Jack watched as you wiped out in the waves once again, a giggle on his lips. As you resurfaced, he saw the panic in your eyes and he swam over, his body taking over before his brain could say anything. 

“You alright?” he called, swimming over to you. You shook your head wildly, tears forming in your eyes. 

“M-my leg,” you whimpered out, trying to keep yourself above water. He grabbed your waist and held you bridal-style so he could swim back to shore, signalling to the lifeguards as finally got you to shore. He saw the issue when you two were out of the water, a huge gash on your left leg, so bad you could see the bone. The cracked bone.

What ensued for the next 9 hours was a flurry of an ambulance, hospital rooms, and surgery, but the only constant was Jack. he stayed there the entire time, and he was there when you woke up. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when your eyes opened. “Hey baby,” he smiled, easy as ever despite the worry he’d been under extreme stress all day. “You’re awake.”

You nodded, taking his hand. “I’m so sorry about today-”

“Don’t apologise. We all get hurt sometimes, it’s alright,” he reassured you. “Plus, it’s not like I can be mad at you.”

“Why not?” you asked. 

“Because I love you,” he shrugged. He’d realised in the 9 hours of  stress that he wouldn’t go to this extent for anyone else, and that he must be insane or in love (which were probably the same thing) to somehow be blindsighted into bringing you to the most dangerous part of the beach for surfing (we was persuaded by you kissing him lots) and then bringing you to the ER and staying with you the entire time. So, he chose the love one, it sounded better. 

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[thebibliosphere]

Good news, I did not become spontaneously magnetic and blow up the MRI machine 👍

It did give me a wicked headache though so hopefully it doesn’t turn into a migraine.

I will say. Nicest MRI team to date. They handed me earplugs and I was like “oh fancy, my last one didn’t give me earplugs” and this very camp tech with rainbow hair said, “oh honey, they let you rawdog that sound? Absolutely not. That’s like an OSHA violation. It’s so loud.”

When asked what I wanted to listen to on the headphones they clamped over my head I was just like idk surprise me. And that’s when I was informed I’d be listening to Chappell Roan for the next forty minutes.

When they were about to load me into the machine I heard this voice over the speakers that went “waaait, does this form say EDS? Like Ehlers Danlos?”

And I said yes, as best I could with a giant cage over my head and a thing holding my chin in place. To which the disembodied voice replied, “okay people, time to brace those joints!” and a sudden gaggle of techs I hadn’t seen before came in, pulled me out and repositioned all my limbs to make sure I wasn’t over extending on the table.

They put some extra padding around my neck too which was helpful because I could feel it trying to subluxate. It gave a nasty click at one point and the tech trying to help me froze and I had to assure her I was fine. (Spoiler: based on this growing headache, I may not be fine.)

And then they put the cage back on and rolled me back into the giant casket shaped magnet as Hot To Go started playing at full volume and I flashed forward to imagining my own funeral, wondering if it’d be too morbid a song to play at the crematorium. They had to keep telling me to stop laughing.

When it was over the same voice came over the speakers like, “hey, so you have EDS, do you have POTS too?” to which I answered in the affirmative and the voice said “mmm-kay. Don’t move.” then vanished, which was when I was pulled out of the machine by two extremely burly orderlies who transferred me to a reclining bed until the dizziness from the machine stopped, which was super nice.

I do appear to have had an allergic reaction to whatever detergent they use to clean the scrubs they gave me. But other than that and the probable migraine, it was a good experience.

Now we just need to wait on the results.