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mostly-imagines · 3 months ago

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La Vie en Rose

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason wildly preferring you over everyone else

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: standard batfam arguing etc.

You sit curled up embarrassingly close to Jason on the couch, head on his shoulder. The team is still in their gear as they filter into the living room, masks and helmets discarded in scattered locations between here and the cave. The mission had been fairly simple and with all of them together it only took a couple hours to finish up.

As you waited, Alfred had kept your mind busy in the kitchen while he taught you how he makes his famous ice cream from scratch.

The clamor of the heroic party’s return had made itself known sooner than later, and you think your face must have displayed your emotions nicely because Alfred nodded you away with a small smile and no second thought.

You’d walked into the living room, weaving through the mess of siblings until a hand snuck out on your left and grabbed your wrist. You barely had time to look at him before Jason pulled you down to sit next him on the sofa. He wrapped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in and leaving virtually no space between you. His armor sits heavy against you, but a welcome weight on your shoulders.

Tim plops down on the couch across from you and you can just make out a bit of blood on the side of his head, aptly accompanied by an irritated look sprawled across his face. It’s not enough blood to be concerned about—not for them—but you can venture a guess that whatever they were up to shouldn’t have called for any injuries and his pique is likely directly related to that.

Though Dick’s goading aura might have something to do with it too, as he comes crashing down next to him a second later, partially sitting on Tim’s cape and pulling him into an awkward angle.

Nightwing doesn’t seem too perturbed by the younger vigilante’s agitation and curt manner of pushing him off.

The others are too caught up in chatter to pay much attention to you, and you can be certain that’s why Jason takes that moment to press a kiss to the side of your head. He lets his lips linger there for just a second as you lean into him.

Alfred’s own entrance is the only thing able to subside the flurry of conversations skirting around the room.

“A job well done,” he commends with a nod. “A selection of ice creams awaits you in the kitchen.”

He gives you a sly wink before retreating back through the swinging door, leaving Stephanie and Cass to practically trip over themselves trying to beat each other to the kitchen. Robin follows after unhurried, mask still on, with his hands behind his back.

Jason kneads your thigh before pushing himself up to stand. He turns back, looking down to you. “What do you want?” he asks softly.

You hum, "Just strawberry's good."

Tim sits up, "Can I—”

"No, you've got legs,” Jason grumbles, stalking off to the kitchen.

Dick barks out a laugh and you bite back a smile.

Tim looks absolutely aghast.

“That’s such bullshit. You know, he used to be nice.”

“No he didn’t,” Dick laughs, shaking his head. “Not since you’ve known him.”

Stephanie stumbles out of the kitchen then, the door hitting her back on the way, as she mutters a curse behind her. You can vaguely makeout Jason grunting something back before she rolls her eyes.

Steph looks at you, shaking her head as she returns to her seat, “You live like this?”

You shrug, “He’s nice to me.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Tim grumbles.

Jason returns after Cass a minute later with a bowl of strawberry ice cream and two spoons. He expertly ignores Tim’s unwavering glare as he resituates himself beside you.

He scoops your legs up over his lap and positions the bowl in between you, wrapping the sleeve of his jacket around it so that the cold porcelain doesn’t make contact with your skin.

The others have set themselves up so that the four of them are stuffed up against each other on the sofa adjacent to you, very obviously examining you both.

And while you’re willing to acknowledge the amused stares and singular glare, Jason only sighs heavily, rolling his eyes as he glares at the coffee table.

Only a few seconds of this are allowed to go by before he pulls over a throw pillow and sets it over your knees, so that it rests atop your heads like a mini-fort, successfully blocking out his siblings' view of the two of you.

You smile and press a light kiss to his shoulder as he simmers.

Regrettably, you miss the way Damian side-eyes the pillow above you as he re-enters the room, perching himself atop the back of the couch behind the others.

“This is so nice,” Dick preens. “He used to just leave the room when too many of us gathered in one place. Now he has to stay.”

Stephanie watches the makeshift fort with wary eyes, scooping ice cream into her mouth. “Yeah…I don’t wanna freak you guys out but, uh…”

It’s quiet for a moment and you guess Cass is speaking.

You’re proven right when Stephanie starts up again, “My thoughts exactly.” Her voice drops into a raspy whisper that isn’t really meant to go unheard, “I don’t know who the hell that is, but it is not Jason.”

“This is unprecedented,” Damian mumbles, dipping into his own chocolate cup.

“Do they always talk about you like you’re not here?” you ask Jason quietly.

“Yes,” he grumbles with a scornful look directed at the bowl.

A low hiss can be heard immediately after, “I’ve never heard him whisper before, what the fuck?”

You can’t hide your laugh as well as you mean to, but you know Jason’s light swat to your thigh is nothing more than a rib.

Mumbles continue along the other couch, mostly going unacknowledged, until Tim busts out, “He doesn’t even like strawberry!”

Jason snaps the pillow out of the way, “The fuck do you know about what I like?”

Tim resets his posture with one hell of an attitude, snarking, “Well I can name one thing you really seem to fucking—”

Jason grabs the pillow harshly and chucks it at Tims head which connects with a loud thwack.

Damian swats it away before it can knock him off balance, though his scowl is only half worth what Tim’s is.

“You’re unbelievable,” he says with a sneer. “This is why you don’t get invited to movie night anymore.”

Jason doubles back at him, “Sorry, is this not your own fucking house?”

Tim huffs, “Yes, which i—”

“Then get your own goddamn ice cream!”

Tim huffs as he stands, sending Jason a pointed look. “I’m going because I want to.”

Jason barely gives him a sardonic nod as he stomps off.

“Get me some too!” Dick calls back, only for the back of his head to be met with a sideways grimace from Tim.

As he leaves, the focus of the room seems to shift towards Damian dripping chocolate onto his cape and it fades away from there.

You turn to Jason, lowering your voice to just below a whisper, “If you don’t like strawberry—”

“I like it,” he tells you, leaving no room to argue as he takes a bite.

Voicemail.

Declined.

Voicemail.

Declined.

“I swear to God, he better be dead,” Stephanie mutters to herself.

She shuts her phone off and tosses it into the passenger seat with a huff. Her fingers drum against the steering wheel as she scans the sidewalk across from her car.

The night before the majority of the team had been involved in a less-than-successful plan, which some have called “a display of complete idiocy and inability to circumspect.”

Then Tim had to go and make a joke about that word choice in what was apparently a bad moment. This gave way to a harsher punishment of the team being forced to clean the batcave foot by square foot—notably, an impossible task.

So naturally, they had to retaliate.

The plan was to dismantle the batmobile piece by piece and leave it a collection of parts for Bruce to find. Problem being, the group as it stood didn’t possess the capability to do so without doing a great deal of damage to the parts. Damage, that the family was not willing to face extra retribution for.

Fortunately, they knew just the man for the job.

Unfortunately, said man has devoted his life to ignoring their messages, favoring to live peacefully and distantly from them. And because that peace and distance does come with an add-on of borderline complete secrecy from his family, no one had any idea where to look for him.

So, Stephanie decided to do the next most rational thing and track down your location. She’d hoped he would be with you like he always is, but for seemingly the first time in the last year—he’s nowhere to be found.

Now, was revenge for a minor-slight by Bruce so important that it required Stephanie to take all of these steps to get a hold of Jason? No, absolutely not. She’s pretty sure that the others have already given up on it by now and started cleaning. But it’s about the principal. And also, she does not want to clean the floors of a cave.

She jumps up in her seat when she spots you exiting a store, scurrying to unbuckle and pry the car door open.

She’s across the street in half a second, running directly into your line of sight. It actually would’ve been very difficult for her to miss your line of sight, considering she’d landed only a good six inches in front of your face. “Hey!”

“Oh, fuck—” you jump, grabbing your chest. You take a breath when you realize who it is, less surprised now by the theatrics of the introduction. “Hey Steph.”

“Hey,” she smiles casually, like she didn’t do what she just did. “So Jason’s been ignoring us and I need to get a hold of him,” she tells you.

You nod, still collecting yourself. “Oh. I don’t know where he is—”

She shakes her head, “That’s fine. Can I use your phone to call him?”

You frown, “Is something wrong?”

“With him, yeah,” she snarks. “I called him, Tim called him, Dick called him, Cass called him, Damian called him, we used Bruce’s phone to call him—that was a bit of a long shot, but still. This is our last option. Well, not our last option, if this doesn’t work I could get really invasive, but—” She shakes the thought from her head, “Nevermind.”

You nod blankly, taking in the mountain of information she’d just handed you. “How’d you know I was here?”

She scans your eyes back and forth for a second before her own widen in realization and she’s shaking her head. “No, no, don’t worry we’re not tracking you! I just hacked into the traffic cameras to find you.”

“Oh!” you exclaim, nodding some more. “Okay.”

You hand her your phone without any further questions—for your own sake—and she happily accepts.

“You know I texted him 115 times?” she tells you as she scrolls through your contacts.

You furrow your eyebrows, watching her click his name and press the phone to her ear. “Did you count?”

“Well, I had the time, di—you son of a bitch! One ring?” Stephanie scorns into the phone.

You can hear Jason groan on the other end of the line.

He says something to Stephanie that she follows up with a firm shake of her head.

“No,” she says defiantly. “She let me use it.”

Stephanie rolls her eyes, not pleased with his response. “What if it was an emergency?”

She listens for a second, skeptical look on her face.

She gasps suddenly, “I am not overstepping, we thought you were dead!”

Over the course of about ten seconds the shock on her face drops into just-been-caught guilt. “Well, I mean we considered it.”

You imagine Jason’s telling her to give you your phone back as she stands her ground, pushing, “If you promise to text me back.”

A short response on his end.

“Promise to text me back!”

There’s a brief lull before she’s giving a self-satisfied nod and jostling your phone back into your hands. “Here ya go. Thanks, babe!” She smiles wide at you before jogging back across the street, not waiting for the cars.

You smile as you watch her go, putting the phone up to your ear, “Hey Jay.”

You can hear the relief on the other end of the line. “Hey sweetheart. You know if you see Steph in public, you can just walk away?”

“I’m not going to walk away from your family.” You look again across the street, “Also I don’t think that was an option for me this time.”

“That thing is fucking scary.”

Cass smiles fondly, signing, “I think he’s cute.”

Tim eyes the way Salem traipses around his feet, yellow eyes staring up at him. “Why’s it even here?”

Jason rolls his eyes, continuing to scroll on his phone. “He’s hers. Deal with it.”

Tim scrunches up his mouth. “She knows I hate it. And she, unlike you, wouldn’t subject me to this just for the hell of it. So again I ask: why is it here?”

Jason huffs, looking up from his phone. “What do you want me to say? He wants to be.”

Tim scoffs at that, “‘It wants to be’? You’re the one who put it in the car.”

“No, I didn’t,” Jason says factually.

Tim looks at him sideways as Salem leaps onto Jason’s lap and nudges his hand up. Jason follows along as requested, petting the top of Salem’s head with an open palm.

Tim squirms to the other side of the couch with a look of disgust on his face. Salem watches him the whole time.

A smile adorns Cass’ face as she signs, “She says he can read people’s energy.”

Tim huffs, resting his head against his fist. “What does that even mean?”

The conversation is cut off by the clatter of you and Dick stumbling into the room, carrying a freshly painted headboard. Blue paint coats both of your hands and has no doubt stained your clothes.

You’re clearly struggling a bit to keep your grip on your end, the weight of the wooden frame dragging your arms down.

Jason stands and Salem flows along with his movements easily, leaping down onto the hardwood. He comes over and helps you lift your end of the frame with a stupid amount of ease, to the point that you’re not even holding any of the weight up anymore. The three of you—less so you—move the headboard and lean it up against the wall. After it's set down Jason steps back and looks over it gingerly.

“It looks good,” he murmurs to you, quiet enough to not give his brother the satisfaction of his approval.

Dick had asked you over to help him paint Damian’s bed frame as a surprise for him for not getting in any “altercations” at school this semester. You’d decided on coating it with his favorite color first and then fill it in with a collection of what Dick has “on good authority” are his favorite animals. It’s a fairly random assortment that you’re not sure adds to or disproves Dick’s credibility. You’d spent the better half of the afternoon googling animals you’d never heard of just to make sure you projected their likenesses accurately. Dick had been very clear that you had to be precise on the details because Damian would know if he was really looking at a komodo dragon painting or if it was “some common lizard.”

You sigh, “I hope he likes it. I’m worried we did it too childish for him.”

“He is a child,” Jason says plainly.

“But he is not childish,” you counter. And he sure isn’t. You’d had a hard enough time convincing Damian to watch cartoons, adding a colorful animal mural to his bedroom might be one step too far. You’re still trying to figure him out.

“He’ll like it,” he says firmly.

You smile, slipping around under his arm and tucking yourself into his side.

Not a moment later, Dick slings an arm around Jason's shoulder, grinning as he pulls his brother in close.

Jason’s immediately louring. "No, get away from me."

Dick, unfazed and still smiling, removes his arm and takes a big step to the right. You do the same, figuring he needs his space, but you get caught by the wrist before you can do more than sway to the side.

“Not you.”

He pulls you back under his arm, wrapping it around the front of your shoulders. You hook your fingers around his forearm, letting your hand hang.

You hear a double-clap from the other side of the room that has you both turning around to face Cass.

She signs something to Jason with a fond smile on her face.

You look back and forth between them as Jason waves her off. “What?”

He shakes his head, “It’s nothing. She said—she said we’re cute.”

You smile up at him and he deflects—not so subtly—and starts nudging you back towards where the group is gathered, now all standing.

Dick’s quick to start bragging off to the room about how great of a job the two of you did and how really complex and daunting it actually is painting animals for a child.

As he talks, your eyes find Jason, who’s definitely about to roll his eyes any second now. A bit subconsciously, your hand comes up to brush Jason’s white streak of hair back, away from tickling his forehead.

On the other side of Jason, Tim does the same, sweeping Jason’s hair back in a much more mocking manner.

This gives way to Jason smacking his hand away, harder than he needed to.

"Wha—You let her do it!" Tim protests, overplaying how much the slap hurt.

Jason scowls, "She can do whatever she wants."

Tim drops his shoulders, looking at Jason as if he’d been scandalized. “Oh but I can’t?”

“Not if it involves touching me,” Jason grumbles.

Tim steps closer, putting a finger to Jason’s chest. “You’re such a—”

From the floor, Salem hisses up at Tim, successfully startling the teenager. “Auahh—”

He stumbles backwards, grimacing at the cat.

“Fucking demon,” he hisses, walking away.

When Tim’s far enough away and Salem’s seemingly satisfied, he brushes up against your leg, purring.

You peer down at him with a furrowed brow.

“What’s Salem doing here?”

“I’m not doing this shit with you.”

“No, come on, 9 out of 10 times is what you said. How ‘bout just once? Beat me one time at anything, Jaybird.”

“Anything?” Jason asks like he knows damn well Dick can’t swear on that word.

Rightly so, Dick backtracks. “Something agreed upon.”

Jason throws his hands up, partially in exasperation, partially relenting.

Dick smoothly turns his back to him, announcing, “Opening up the room for ideas.”

Damian’s eye roll is almost audible from the corner armchair, where his attention is unmoved from intently sharpening a blade he’d recently come into possession of.

Bruce similarly remains unbothered in his seat, trying to read despite the distractions.

“Ooh, okay. Okay.” Stephanie wiggles up a little on the couch. “You could race!”

Dick shakes his head negatively, “I literally just busted my knee up two days ago, Steph.”

“Convenient,” Jason mumbles.

“You were there!” Dick exclaims with an open mouth.

Steph continues, “Um…”

Cass waves to the room from her position upside down on the couch, head hanging down next to Stephanie’s legs. Attention successfully acquired, she signs, “Staring contest.”

Jason grimaces, “That sounds like a nightmare.”

Dick gives him a faux-smile.

“You should play chicken,” Damian chimes in, holding up his knife.

“No,” Bruce drones monotonously as he flips a page.

“Tic tac toe?” Steph suggests.

Cass is already shaking her head as she scrunches up her mouth in thought.

Jason rolls his eyes, “What are we, five?”

Dick nods, cracking his knuckles as he thinks. “No, we need something that really proves our worth.”

Bruce looks up from his book, staring numbly through his brow, but remains silent.

“You could arm wrestle,” Steph suggests.

The elder brother twitches at that, “Uh, no.”

Cass moves past that before a joke has the chance to be made. “Handstand contest?” she suggests.

Jason shrugs, “Yeah, sure.”

The elder brother looks at him incredulously. “You’ll do a handstand contest with me?”

“That’s what I just said.”

Dick scoffs, “Jaybird, I’m an acrobat, you’re just some guy.”

Jason, not giving him the courtesy of eye contact, pulls his sweatshirt off from his back. “Well, you’re a lot of things, aren’t you?”

Dick throws his head back with a squint.

Jason fishes his phone out of his pocket and Dick follows suit, offended stare maintaining all the while.

No exchange is required as they both toss their phones across the room, landing together with a rough clatter on Damian’s lap. Damian’s resulting glare is borderline disgusted.

Dick starts them off, “Alright, go. One…two…”

Both men push up onto their hands, muscles flexing as they find their balance. Dick’s form is better, of course, but Jason looks to have a stronger foundation.

They both hold strong as several minutes go by with the brothers only maintaining the attention of some of the room, and the interest of none of it.

Stephanie huffs and tilts her head, thoroughly unentertained with the consistency they’re both managing.

“Starting to wish they’d picked something that moved along a little faster,” she murmurs to Cass.

Dick glances over at the younger brother, clearly displeased with his lack of trouble keeping up with him. He shuffles closer one hand at a time, using the decreased distance to poke at Jason with his foot, trying to knock him over.

Jason kicks him back harder, “Hey! Don’t be a dick—”

“Very funny,” Dick leers.

They both end up finding a struggle to keep balance and are forced to mind their own.

A chime rings out from the corner that has heads turning briefly in his direction before coming back to the competition.

“Whose was that?” Dick calls out.

Damian leans over and inspects the screens with disinterest. “Todd’s.”

Jason adjusts his position, “Who is it?”

Damian responds with your name.

“And?”

He picks up the phone shrugging like he couldn’t care less, “She wants to know if you want to go see some movie.”

There’s a brief silence before Jason drops out of the handstand, standing up.

Dick’s blood-flushed face peers up at him, bewildered. “Wait, what?”

The family watches with wide eyes as Jason picks his sweatshirt up off the floor and tugs it back on.

Stephanie gawks, bordering on laughing. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he says simply.

Dick lets himself fall into a kneeling position with a huff, “You would rather go to some movie you don’t even know the name of than win a bet?”

Jason moues at him, “Uh, yeah.”

He tosses a twenty at Dick, and plucks his phone from Damian’s hand as he strolls past him, typing out a reply.

Cass sits up a bit and signs up to Stephanie, “Does he even like movies?”

Bruce, now attention now fully removed from his book, watches Jason exit with the slightest hint of a smile. Dick sits dumbly on the floor, staring after him with an open-mouth.

Damian twists the knife in his hands around contemplatively before rising to stand.

“I will go,” he announces, dropping his blade onto the seat of the chair. Jason grumbles a no but Damian follows after him just the same.

you know what happened to the last guy that didn’t reblog? … 🔪🧨💥😵⚰️🪦

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norrisainz33 · 6 days ago

Text

Party time || ln4

☆ summary: y/n throws a end of season party party and the grid find out ln and y/n have been keeping a little secret

☆ pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader x platonic!grid

☆ fc & warnings: slightly suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: nope! this has been in my drafts for months

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

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ynleclerc: waiting for everyone to get home from this triple header so we can celebrate like …..

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arthur_leclerc: i’m literally sitting next to you do i mean nothing

ynleclerc: uhh yeah you’re not alex or rebecca or carmen or lily or lily or kika or leo

arthur_leclerc: blocked

charlesleclerc: wow leo gets a mention and not me?

ynleclerc: oui

alexandrasaintmleux: leo and i miss you. we’re counting down the days 🤍

charlesleclerc: mon amour 😫 don’t encourage her

ynleclerc: f off charles! that’s my girl!

user1: the leclerc’s and their beauty needs to be studied

scuderiaferrari: you are always welcome to join us y/n 🤍

ynleclerc: merci admin 😘

user2: is the sun bothering you queen 🔫

landonorris: perhaps you should just come to abu dhabi?? ever think of that!

ynleclerc: omg no never thought of that once!!!

landonorris: y/n/n

user4: is it wrong to say i ship these 2

user3: y/n really said i’m bored pay attention to me and she’s so real for that

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logansargeant: who is on this private story?? need to know who is invited before i even consider showing up

ynleclerc: just abt the whole grid, my favorite girlies, kyle, patito, and bunch of my other friends - some you know !!

logansargeant: i’ll only go if kyle goes

yourbff: i can’t wait!!!!!!

ynleclerc: me either bestie i miss you

alexandrasaintmleux: i am so excited! i got the finishing touches for my outfit today 🤭

ynleclerc: yessss i can’t wait to see it!! you’re going to look stunning 🤩

alexandrasaintmleux: so are you gorgeous girl

charlesleclerc: Puis-je te convaincre de changer de tenue ? [can i convince you to change your outfit?]

ynleclerc: absolument pas [absolutely not]

charlesleclerc: mais mes collègues vont te voir et je ne peux pas les laisser avoir des idées [but my coworkers are going to see you and i can’t have them getting any ideas]

ynleclerc: tant pis pour toi 😘 [too bad for you]

landonorris: are costumes required for this party?

ynleclerc: no but wouldn’t be a problem because you’re already a clown?

landonorris: and ya know what i hate you

ynleclerc: no you do not muppet

georgerussell63: we’re all going to need this after the season 😫

ynleclerc: no doubt georgie especially bc you were stuck in that tractor

georgerussell63: 💀

iamrebeccad: carlos asked why he’s not on the invite and i said it’s because you love me more and now he’s pouting

ynleclerc: a big big baby he is

iamrebeccad: the biggest

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ynleclerc: you may as well have been!!

charlesleclerc: oh so you missed me?

ynleclerc: yes i don’t want to deal with arthur alone anymore

charlesleclerc: i knew it

carlossainz55: wow she didn’t show up to greet me like this???

charlesleclerc: you know the only reason she came to pick me up is because alex and leo were involved

landonorris: where tf was my invite

charlesleclerc: don’t think i don’t know about your little crush on my baby sister

landonorris: gonna have to have a chat w carlos huh

alexandrasaintmleux: my baby girl

charlesleclerc: yes yes you love her i know

arthur_leclerc: she’s so dramatic and for what

charlesleclerc: yes but she is our sister so we must be nice

arthur_leclerc: 🤓☝🏻

iamrebeccad: my two most favorite girls

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ynleclerc: surprised you know what a grwm is

carlossainz55: i’m not that old hermana

charlesleclerc: how are you the favorite friend ?!

carlossainz55: my charm and overall superiority

charlesleclerc: 🙄

landonorris: sooooo carlos… you told charles about my thing for y/n??????????

carlossainz55: what? no i did not!

landonorris: but you’re the only one i told!!!!

carlossainz55: … i may have told rebecca and she may have told alex who may have told charles

landonorris: mate 😭😭😭

carlossainz55: i’m sorry

landonorris: do you think charles knows the full extent?

carlossainz55: rebecca doesn’t think he does

landonorris: great so i can at least keep some of my dignity 😔

alexandrasaintmleux: eeek so cute

arthur_leclerc: you forgot to actually mention that you’re on set up duty not grwm duty

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user2: omg it’s annual end of year party time im so sat i hope the drivers are there and get messy

user3: bisexuality is truly a beautiful thing

alexandrasaintmleux: 😫 mon amour you are stunning

ynleclerc: i love youuuu

landonorris: i’m gonna miss you when i scroll……

ynleclerc: 🤭 good thing you get to see me in real life so no need for missing me

landonorris: so true y/n/n. see you soon 😉

yourbff: i’m foaming at the mouth

patriciooward: 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

ynleclerc: so excited to see you patty

user16: god ur perfect

user22: screw your brothers, i want you

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charlesleclerc: that little gremlin better not be with my sister

carlossainz55: 💀💀💀💀

arthur_leclerc: trying the insta story means he must have really disappeared

carlossainz55: i can’t find him anywhere in this house

yourbff: i can’t find y/n/n either

carlossainz55: charles is gonna have a fit

iamrebeccad: hehhe i think i found him

carlossainz55: oh mi amor where is he?

iamrebeccad: he is with y/n

carlossainz55: where?

iamrebeccad: you can’t get mad at him

carlossainz55: it’s not me you should be worried about

iamrebeccad: they snuck out to get pizza and go to lando’s

alexandrasaintmleux: i may have kept somethings from you and charles 😔

carlossainz55: alex what do you know

alexandrasaintmleux: y/n/n and lando have been seeing each other on the down low for a couple weeks now

carlossainz55: mi amiga 😫 you better butter up charles or his head is gonna explode when he finds this out

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user2: Y/N THIS IS UR PUBLIC STORY

user3: screaming y/n what is this

charlesleclerc: y/n y/m/n leclerc - this is your public story. where are you both right now?

ynleclerc: OOPS!!!!!!!!

charlesleclerc: yeah oops for sure… where are you??

charlesleclerc: ma sœur stop leaving me on read

lilymhe: ARE YOU BOYH AT THE PIZZA SHOP RN HAHAAH

ynleclerc: Y E S!! i wanted pizza and lando was kind enough to take me

lilymhe: so is this like a thing now?

ynleclerc: i think so yes 🤭

lilymhe: omg you’re an evil, sinister, orange girl now 😭

ynleclerc: SCREAMING

user4: y/n it’s 3am what are you two doing rn

carmenmundt: baby what is this

ynleclerc: 😔 i tried to simp on private but messed up

carmenmundt: obsessed but also how is this how i found out??

ynleclerc: i tried to tell you at the dior show but got scared. this is all so new

carmenmundt: no need to be scared darling!! i am very good at keeping secrets but you let this cat out of the bag it seems

user7: omg are you guys together???

user8: drunken hard launch? girl i love you so much you’re my idol

user9: raw! next question

alexandrasaintmleux: hehehe tea

ynleclerc: is charles breathing still?

alexandrasaintmleux: oh don’t worry about your big brother. he’ll be fine. tell me about LANDO

ynleclerc: he is a dream alex 😭😭😭😭

ynleclerc: we made things official 🥹

alexandrasaintmleux: YESSSSSSS LETS GO ITS ABOUT TIME

user5: y/nlando truthers are UP rn

georgerussell63: laughing hysterically at this

ynleclerc: george shut up

georgerussell63: never

user6: guess your party is going well 😂😂😂

[this post has been deleted by user]

landonorris has posted to his private story

view all story replies

carlossainz55: mate why won’t you respond to your texts

landonorris: i’m sorry im sorry got a bit caught up

carlossainz55: are you having fun?

landonorris: yes 🥹 we got pizza and she admitted she liked me a lot and wanted to make things official

carlossainz55: why didn’t you tell me you two had been hanging out for a while now???

landonorris: i didn’t want to 1) jinx it or 2) put you in an uncomfortable position with charles 😭

carlossainz55: gracias for thinking of me but i’m always here for you cabron

charlesleclerc: no funny business lando or i’ll run you off the road

landonorris: wouldn’t dream of any funny business charles

lilymhe: i hope yall remember this in the morning 💀

landonorris: actually ☝🏻 we are basically sober

oscarpiastri: you stealing the host of the party to take her to get pizza then to your house is crazy work mate

landonorris: i didn’t steal her 😭

oscarpiastri: then why she not at her own party bro

landonorris: bc she wanted pizza

oscsrpiastri: yea so you stole her

landonorris: 😔

maxfewtrell: get that girl 😤

landonorris: i did mate 🤩

danielriccardo: and who is this?

landonorris: y/n leclerc

danielriccardo: a leclerc?!

landonorris: the leclerc yes

danielriccardo: good job kid

ynleclerc has made a post

liked by charlesleclerc, carmenmundt, landonorris, maxfewtrell, alexandrasaintmleux, and 644,927 others

ynleclerc: happy new year from me and mine 🥂✨

view all 888 comments

iamrebeccad: stunning 😭

user14: don’t think we don’t recognize those curls on the last slide y/n

georgerussell63: i’m still laughing btw

ynleclerc: and what if i said i hate you

georgerussell63: i’d know you were lying 😘

user23: y/n, alex, rebecca and carmen doing everything together is so important to me you don’t understand

charlesleclerc: wow i made the cut?

ynleclerc: *leo made the cut

charlesleclerc: a brother can dream huh

user45: i love how we are swiftly moving on from that story and back to our regular programming 😭

landonorris: yours you say?

ynuser: perhaps 🫣

alexandrasaintmleux: tea

user47: how am i supposed to be normal about this

user81: don’t edge us omg

landonorris has posted a story

view all story replies

charlesleclerc: please don’t post things like this with my sister

landonorris: i have to show her off charles. she’s too pretty to not be posted 🥹

charlesleclerc: you got me there but i don’t like it mate

landonorris: i’ll treat her right - i promise

oscarpiastri: i’m so glad i don’t have to hear you cry about her anymore 🧡

landonorris: you’ll still hear me crying osc dw

user4: HARD LAUNCH CITY

ynleclerc: you’re so cute im obsessed with you

landonorris: i am the luckiest man on earth

ynleclerc: lando 😭😭

user10: you calling her a gift is sickeningly cute

alexandrasaintmleux: be good to my girl ok? leo and i both will kill you if you hurt her

landonorris: i will! i promise! she is everything i have ever wanted and more and im not going to give that up any time soon

alexandrasaintmleux: music to my ears 🤍

user87: BOTH! i want you BOTH

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

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suiana · 3 months ago

Text

yandere! cheater and gn! reader who's in their villain arc...

you've suspected that something was up when your boyfriend started to get busy with his work, coming home late, hiding his phone from you...

of course you just wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt that he really was just stressed from his work. he was yourboyfriend after all. you had to trust him, didn't you?

well everything was shattered when you found one of his side chicks under your shared bed. she was naked, only wearing a pair of undies while holding in her pee.

"wtf why are you hiding under here?"

"your bf doesn't want u to know that he's cheating. told me that he'd kill me if i came out."

yeah, so the girl was an asshole to get with your man when she knew that he was in a relationship but at least she told it to your face straight up. also she pissed herself while getting out from the bed so there's that.

meanwhile, your boyfriend was sobbing and crying when he came home. you had found out of his side affairs, a side he never wanted you to find out about. to be honest, your boyfriend didn't know why he he got with others in the first place. he had everything he could ever want in you. you made him feel alive, all the good things you know. being with you was like a dream come true and he constantly felt like tearing out his skin from how happy you made him.

you were his god.

oh, yeah, thinking about it now that's probably it. he felt that you were too good for him and didn't want to taint you. which... was why he resorted to sleeping with others.

shitty move, yeah he knows. don't need to repeat it.

but you... why were you so forgiving? you welcomed him back with open arms, sobbed a little and told him how hurt you were! he thought you'd have up and left by now!

but you didn't.

he knew you were too good for him, he had to treat you better now. he just had to, this was obviously you giving him a second chance, right? oh he just loves you so much!

unfortunately for him, it wasn't a second chance. no, you were about to absolutely ruin this man.

it started with the small things. small rumours about him ranging from how he had a small dick to how he's a pushover... you needed to start your plan slow, you know. tear his reputation of a good and sensible man bit by bit. gotta build up that tension teehee >w<

then from the rumours, you started manipulating the people close to him. crocodile tears, white lies, and a whole pity party for yourself... telling his friends and family members how your boyfriend was an absolute shit of a boyfriend, how he didn't treat you right and how he was the worst an alive... well, it wasn't much of a lie. he did spoil you and treat you like a deity but if he really treasured you why would he cheat in the first place? there's no space left in your life to pity him.

the most important part was to constantly reassure him that you loved him and to make sure that he never finds out that you were the one ruining his life from behind the scenes. can't let him find out that his angel lover is the one that's bringing him to social death now!

by this stage, your boyfriend was completely dependent on you. everyone around him was looking at him like he was the absolute scum of the earth. where did the rumours come from? why was everyone avoiding him? he couldn't even go to work without his coworkers side-eyeing him like he grew an extra head! he's just lucky he didn't get fired-

oh and what do you know. he got fired.

he comes home crying, an absolute mess and a shell of the man that he used to be. what was once a confident and charming man is now a desperate and pathetic boyfailure.

"baby i got fired, i'm so sorry. i don't deserve to be with you."

his arms wrap aorund your legs, tears staining your pants as he seeks comfort from the only person still left by his side. yes, you're the only person left dying for. even his own parents desserted him, yet you stayed. he's so thankful-

"yeah, you're right. you don't deserve me."

it's like time stops the second the words fall from your lips. he slowly looks up at you, eyes widening in horror as his tears dry up. what? was he growing delusional? he must've heard you wrong. no way his beloved god just said that!

"haha... you're so sweet baby. joking around in a time like this-"

"i'm not joking. you don't deserve someone like me."

you slap his hands away, looking down at him as he remains on his knees on the floor. you had a smug smile, expression all cocky as you even started to laugh.

"haha! did you really think i wanted to stay with you? fuck no! i have standards okay? i really didn't want to stay with a cheater!"

your boyfriend didn't know what to think. what were you saying? he doesn't understand. is this a late april fools prank? the way his heart was clenching and the way he felt his face paled shows just how much he doesn't like your words.

"babe stop-"

"i hate you god damnit. i really thought you'd be the one for me but no! you just had to go ahead and cheat!"

but you didn't listen to him.

"let's break up."

oh yeah, you hear that? that's the sound of his heart shattering.

he quickly crawls over to you, face pale as he grips onto your pants tightly. his hands shook with each word he uttered, tone desperate as tears streamed down his cheeks once more.

he never thought he'd start begging for someone to stay when it was usually the opposite but... you were his god. the one he's devoted his entire life too.

so he'll gladly get on his hands and knees for you if he has too. you can't leave him. he doesn't want to be alone.

"please! forgive me! i know i did something wrong but i'm trying! you can't leave me too!"

he looks up at you, face completely flushed as he continues to turn himself into an even bigger pathetic mess. he doesn't care what he looks like now. he's practically lost everything. he has nothing left to lose.

"i promise i'll be better! i haven't cheated since you found out last time! d-doesn't that count for something?"

he gives you a shaky smile, as though that would convince you.

it wasn't.

in response to his words, you could only give a disgusted expression, kicking him away before walking past him to the front door. what a pathetic man he was.

"you know, you look best when you're like this."

you state, glancing at him with a smile before turning to leave his house. well, there's that. your plan was complete and your now-ex boyfriend was absolutely destroyed.

so why did it feel like... something bad was about to happen?

you quickly look back at him, keeping your cool and remaining nonchalant before you feel the blood drain from your face. your best friend?! where did they come from?! and the fact that your crazy ex was holding a knife to their neck-

"no... don't leave me... you can't leave... i have no one else but you..."

what were you supposed to do now that he was holding your best friend hostage?

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere concepts #yandere cheater #yandere cheater x reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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rafecameronsslut4ever · 3 months ago

Text

CASUAL — lando norris (smut, angst, nsfw)

pairing; fem!reader x lando norris summary: whatever you and lando have, it's anything but 'casual'. warnings: smut 18+, a LOT of angst, mdni, fingering, oral (f receiving), (situationship?) a/n: i lowkey want chappell roan's casual to be inserted into my brain and OMG this one is too sad

part 2 - casual

"nah, nah. the two of us... it's complicated, y'know? just a casual thing, honestly."

the words echoed in your mind on the flight from london, replaying as the seatbelt sign dinged off.

casual.

the word had always carried a negative connotation, but hearing him say it made you feel so much worse. it made you feel insignificant, as if the months that had passed meant nothing to him, while it had meant so much more to you.

you were anything but casual.

all those nights, the mornings after, the kisses, the rendezvouses. they meant something, didn't they? you thought they did, at least.

the way he'd look at you when the lights dimmed and his voice would turn soft. the way he'd kiss you as if it was what he was made to do.

he knew every inch of you. every freckle, every curve. he knew you better than he knew the tracks he raced on.

but, then again, lando norris was never known for being reliable.

he was young and wild and carefree, a bachelor to be envied by all. a party boy, a flirt, a ladies' man. he was charming and he knew it.

he was good at making people believe that they were special.

everyone loved him. the oh-so charming lando norris. the young driver who had a bright future ahead of him. he was bound to get whatever he wanted, right?

the first night he touched you, the two of you had come to an agreement—no attachment. he made it clear that he didn't have time for anything serious, but that he would love to have fun with you.

you, of course, had agreed to that.

in the beginning it was nothing. 'accidentally' crashing into each other at parties, accompanying the other into hotel rooms, and then disappearing as soon as the sun rose.

but do these 'no attachments' things ever work? it wasn't even a complete month before the two of you became more and more involved and realised you weren't just having fun.

as you exited the airplane, your heart clenched at the thought. the two of you had never actually said anything, but it was there, hanging in the air, almost suffocating you.

the first time you realised it wasn't just fun, you were in the passenger seat of his mclaren. he was on his knees, big blue eyes staring into yours as he flicked his tongue in you. you were so close, you had been for a while. he could tell. his eyes were locked onto yours, a glint of smugness in them. and then, with the tip of his finger, he brought you over the edge.

after you both came, he had crawled into the driver's seat and smiled at you. his lips glistened, his chin damp, and his hair sticking up in places.

"you look beautiful." he said, a hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"i think i like you." his voice was barely a whisper, and if you hadn't been staring right into his eyes you might've missed what he said.

"yeah, me too." your voice was breathless.

and that was the only time either of you'd ever said anything about it.

was it casual?

then, that one time when you had flown to his family home in the uk and met his parents. they'd welcomed you with open arms and treated you like one of their own, and lando's face had glowed with joy the whole time.

"i still can't believe that lando has such a pretty girlfriend." his mom had said to you, giggling as the two of you shared a bottle of wine.

"mom!" lando had whined from the other room. "can't you just shut up for once?"

"oh, hush! i'm just saying it as it is." she shrugged.

you had blushed furiously at her words, looking down at your feet as you took another sip of the expensive italian wine.

you had thought he would deny the 'girlfriend' title, or at least laugh it off, but he didn't. instead, he grinned like an idiot and you wondered if the wine had gone to his head.

"yeah, guess i got lucky." he'd muttered, and his mom had smiled, nodding knowingly.

when the day ended, you had fallen asleep curled up next to him, his body warmth enveloping you like a blanket.

now, your eyes stung as you walked through the airport, a million thoughts running through your mind.

you'd spent the rest of the week there and it was the best time you'd had in a while. he'd taken you on a day-trip to oxford, but the two of you ended up staying the night at some cottage. he'd held you closer, kissed you harder. you slept together as many times as you could.

fuck, you weren't just casual.

and the time the you woke up in each other's arms, his face buried in your hair, hands wrapped around your waist. he had asked you what your plans for the future were.

"get an apartment in monaco right next to yours so that i can stalk you everyday. binoculars and everything." you had joked.

"really? not gonna say you're going to marry me and have a billion kids and we're gonna grow old together?"

you'd looked up at him, eyebrows raised. and then the two of you had burst out laughing.

"what the fuck, lando. i'm not having a billion kids with you."

he just smirked in response.

or the time when the two of you vacationed in italy with his friends, and at the pier he had introduced you as his 'hotshot pr girl'.

"he's paying me a million dollars to pretend to be his girlfriend because he doesn't like being called a virgin."

"hey!" he'd laughed, nudging you.

"shut up, loser."

and then you'd pushed him into the water.

"i'm never talking to you again." he'd pouted.

"oh yeah, find someone else to have your billion kids with. my uterus will be happy."

or the countless times he would call you in the middle of the night and tell you about his new merch drop, and you'd whine about how it was 2 in the morning and you couldn't give a flying fuck.

and when you had just gotten off the phone with his sister, "flo is such a sweetheart, i love her."

"my sister talks to you more than she talks to me. you know she likes you better, right?" he'd mumbled, looking offended.

"what can i say, i'm such a charmer." you'd said in the most british accent you could muster, and he'd rolled his eyes and shoved your face away.

december came, and cisca invited you to celebrate christmas with them.

"if he doesn't ask you to be his girlfriend, promise me you'll tell him it's over." your best friend has said, looking at you sternly.

you had just sighed in response, shaking your head.

"i'm serious. you don't deserve someone like that. not if he doesn't think you're worth the commitment."

"you're right. i know. i'm just... i'm just scared. i like him so much. i don't know what to do."

the morning of christmas, you'd landed in london and gone straight to his place. he was all dressed up, and you'd almost cried at how gorgeous he looked.

"merry christmas, darling." he'd murmured, and you'd melted at his words. he welcomed you with a kiss, the way he always did.

the day was spent exchanging gifts with his family, watching christmas movies and cuddling under blankets.

his family adored you.

"i'm glad you're here." he said.

"where else would i be?"

"anywhere else."

you smiled at him, and he returned it with a cheshire cat one.

that night, the two of you had been invited to dinner with his parents, and halfway through the meal you'd excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

as you stood there washing your hands, you'd heard the door swing open, and the familiar figure appeared next to you, locking the door behind him.

"lando."

"yeah?"

"what are you doing?"

"i need to wash my hands." he'd shrugged.

you raised a brow at him, looking at him pointedly.

he shrugged again, taking a step towards you.

"you look too good in this dress, can't help it."

you rolled your eyes as he stepped closer to you, fingers about to grasp your waist before you told him to back off.

"what?"

"wash your hands first. didn't you come here to wash your hands? there's no way in hell i'm letting greasy salmon fingers touch me."

and then the two of you had laughed before his lips found yours lips. it felt so natural, the way your body reacted to his touch or the way your lips melted into his.

"lando, we shouldn't." you protested, neck arching as he pressed kisses everwhere.

"shut up." he grabbed your waist before pushing you against the counter, his lips crashing back into yours.

"what happened to your hands? i told you to wash them."

"fuck the hands."

"technically-"

"shut the fuck up." he groaned, dipping a finger between your thighs. "you're dripping. fucking hell."

pulling his fingers out, his knee pushed your thighs apart, spreading your legs apart.

you gasped, shifting your hands as you balanced yourself against the counter. his eyes locked in yours as his finger dragged across your core.

"fuck, baby, you're so pretty." he whispered, eyes digging into yours.

"lando, please."

"please what?" he asked as he slipped two fingers inside you.

your eyes squeezed shut, head leaning against the mirror behind you. "oh, fuck."

"i asked a question."

you were quick to answer, fisting his shirt as his fingers moved inside you. "please fuck me, oh my god."

he smirked before dropping to his knees, spreading your thighs and pressing his tongue onto your clit. you yelped at the sudden feeling of his mouth sucking at your clit; eyes rolling back.

his hands grabbed your legs, swinging them over his shoulder. hand sprawled over your stomach, pushing you back against the counter.

when his tongue curled into you, brushing that spot he never failed to miss, you couldn't help but let a loud moan escape you.

lando hushed you; tapping your thigh. “gotta be quiet baby,” lando said through heavy breaths before pushing his face back into you.

biting into your lip, your fingers ran through his curls, admiring the sight of his head moving between your thighs.

your moans filled the small bathroom, the sound like music to his ears.

"lando," your voice was shaky, breath hitching as he picked up the pace, his hands pushing your hips down.

he hummed in response, the vibration sending waves throughout your body.

"oh, god, lando. right there, right there. oh fuck."

and then your body was trembling, and you were gripping his hair, his tongue still moving.

you were seeing stars, vision going white as your legs quivered around his face.

"oh, god." you sighed, chest rising and falling as he pulled his fingers out, smirking up at you.

"c'mon baby, give me one more."

it wasn't casual.

now, walking through the terminal, dragging your suitcase behind you, the tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

maybe he said 'casual' just to tell his friends he was still a player. or maybe, he was referring to the fact that the two of you were just friends who hooked up sometimes.

but whatever he meant, it wasn't the truth.

both of you knew it.

casual wasn't the way he held you close during thunderstorms, wasn't the way he'd make sure coffee was the perfect temperature, wasn't the way he'd look at you as if the world stopped turning.

the way he'd stare into your eyes as the lights turned off, the way he'd press a kiss onto your temple, the way he'd say your name.

it wasn't casual.

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gurugirl · 3 months ago

Text

Truth or Dare | slumber party!h

Summary: Y/n's coworker, Harry, has never been to a slumber party so she decides to remedy that and give him a sleepover he'll never forget.

A/N: Based off this request. Thanks anon! I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 6,752

Warning: smut

. . .

By her third glass of chardonnay, her stomach was feeling the acid from the wine but she was having such a good time talking to Harry from the operations department that she didn’t care. She’d have another before calling it a night. Just one more glass so she could sit with him a little longer and listen to him talk and watch as he ran his finger along the edge of his pint glass.

He was probably looking at her like he was because he was also three pints of lager in and he was kind so he was holding eye contact to be polite. Certainly, it wasn’t because he found her attractive (though she’d have welcomed that).

The company’s management meeting was long over and everyone else had gone home but Harry and Y/n stayed for another round. They rarely ever got to talk at the office. She’d always wanted to pick his brain about why he decided to move to the US and how, of all companies, he chose to work at Dunn Services.

Y/n laughed on cue as he mentioned something from his childhood with his sister having her friends over to stay the night. He grinned, a healthy row of teeth aimed at her before he looked down and laughed at himself, “In truth? I never did have a sleepover or anything like that.”

“Really? Surely you had friends…”

Harry nodded, “Oh yeah I had a lot of friends. But I never stayed over at anyone’s and they never came over to mine either. Just… I don’t know. Never happened.”

Placing her nearly empty glass down she turned and waved with a smile as the waitress walked by, “Can we get another round, please?”

“How are you getting home?” Harry asked when she faced him, crossing her leg over her knee toward him.

“Taxi. You?”

“Might walk. I’m not far from here.”

Nodding she placed her elbows on the table, “So, I think that you’ve missed out on an integral right of passage, having never had a slumber party. You should definitely remedy that at some point. I highly recommend a fun sleepover. In fact, if you need pointers on what to do during a sleepover, I’m your gal.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your go-to during a slumber party?” Harry teased before taking another sip of his beer.

“Well, I think there are like two main components. The first is entertainment and I’m always keen on a good movie, or a dumb one, either way… a movie for sure if I’m picking. Some people like to play board games or whatever, but I like to stuff myself into a pile of blankets and pillows and just lie, or drape,” she spoke using her arms to demonstrate herself draping into pillows. “Occasionally, if the mood is right, I’ll enjoy a little truth or dare.”

“Got it. A movie and maybe if the mood is right, truth or dare. And what’s the second component.”

Y/n crossed her fingers together and raised her brows as if she were about to say something very important, “Snacks. Beverages. Good ones. Usually just small bites but here’s my list…” She cleared her throat, “Buttered popcorn, and possibly potato chips. Definitely something chocolatey, and maybe something like a cookie or a snack cake. If not potato chips then tortilla chips and if it’s tortilla chips, salsa should also definitely be on the menu.”

Harry held back the laugh in his throat as he nodded, “Wow. Okay. What about like a burger or Chinese food? Would that be allowed?”

Y/n shrugged, “It’s your party. You can do what you want. I’m just telling you what I’d do and what would be a hit with your sleepover buddy.”

Harry breathed out a laugh. Y/n could tell he was getting bashful. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was. She watched him for a few seconds before the waitress returned with their drinks.

A quick gulp of wine and she nudged at his shin with her shoe, “You wanna have a slumber party with me?”

Harry blinked and tilted his head, “What? You mean… Seriously?”

She shrugged, “Why not? Then next time someone asks if you’ve ever had a proper slumber party you can say that you have.”

He laughed loudly, his husky voice was like music to her ears. Pointing at her with his finger he grinned, “Now how I can argue with that? I mean,” he shook his head, a glint in his eye, “Every time someone asks me if I’ve been to a slumber party and I tell them I haven’t, it’s such a disappointment! The look on their faces when they realize my whole childhood was a sham…”

They both laughed, leaning in toward one another, tittering toward the edges of their stools.

Harry tilted his head, “Actually I think it sounds fun. You just name the day and I’ll be there.”

Y/n smiled at him. She knew it was crazy. Having a grown man at her place for a slumber party. Typically adults didn’t have those kinds of sleepovers – it was usually with the intent of something far more salacious. But she’d show him a good time, she thought, raising her glass toward his, “Deal.”

. . .

Y/n had her sofa bed pulled out and piled high with extra blankets and pillows. She had all her favorite snacks plus she ordered cheeseburgers and fries for the guest of the night. It was silly. Truly she hadn’t had a real slumber party in ages, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of excitement that she’d be hanging out with Harry all night. It was possible that her small crush on him was making her feel all giddy but she’d push down that feeling until he gave her any extenuating signals.

Because the truth was that they were both single, young adults and this was such an unlikely scenario. No one would look at this and say Oh how cute of these two grown adults hanging out in bed together for a sleepover. So innocent! No, she knew better. While maybe nothing would actually happen it certainly wouldn’t look innocent.

And of course, she did pick out the perfect pijama set. Something a little more flattering on her body but not too hey I really need to get laid tonight. It was a happy compromise. Cotton shorts and a button-up, matching short-sleeved top. This was just supposed to be a slumber party after all.

Right?

Besides, the little paper invitation she gave him on Monday morning told him to arrive in his sleepwear so she had to look the part. And not to toot her own horn but she made a very cute invitation just for him tucked into a pink envelope with a separate little response card that had space at the bottom for him to mark yes or no if he could come. It was a yes. Obviously.

When Harry finally arrived he was wearing a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt. And for some fucking bizarre reason he looked so much hotter than he did when he wore his well-fitted suits at work.

Because goddamn did his shirt somehow just hug his torso in all the right spots and it allowed her to take a good look at all tattoos on his arms that were normally hidden under brushed wool jackets or long-sleeved button-up shirts. She knew he had tattoos. She’d seen him roll up his sleeves a couple of times but she never wanted to be rude and stare for long.

And then the sweatpants, while loose in the legs, fit his waist and hips and…

“You okay?” Harry was still standing in the doorway with his backpack draped over his arm waiting to be invited in.

“Yeah, sorry. Not used to seeing you dressed down like this. Almost unrecognizable.”

Harry let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling as Y/n stepped aside to let him in, “Would you like to see my ID? Swear I’m the Harry Styles, the guy you invited over for chips, popcorn, and truth or dare. I’ve even got your invite somewhere in my bag…”

She breathed a laugh through her nose and watched him enter into her space, “Movies too. Oh, and I also ordered cheeseburgers. Remembered that you mentioned that.”

He seemed quite pleased with the burgers as she handed him the bag. She got those small ones, five to an order, “Thanks. Fries too, huh?” He reached into the bag and pulled out three crinkle-cut french fries then stuffed them into his mouth.

“So should we settle in and pick out a movie?” She gestured toward her couch.

Harry had seen the pull-out couch with heaps of pillows and blankets when he walked in. He knew that that would be where they’d be spending most of the evening. It was the glaring thing about the whole slumber party slash sleepover. That they’d be probably sleeping next to one another. As two young, healthy, attractive adults.

“Sure,” he nodded and waited for her to pick which side she was going to take before climbing in next to her, the thin mattress and metal frame giving way gently under his weight before he leaned back against a mountain of pillows, bag of burgers safe in his hands.

Y/n had a few video streaming services at the ready and they settled on a cheesy comedy from the late 90s before Y/n reached over to her coffee table and then lined up all the snacks between them.

They chatted a little, having both seen the movie already. Topics were anything from what their plans were for the rest of the weekend to what they’d eaten for lunch at work. And it was only a little awkward when they both reached into the bowl of M&M’s at the same time, fingers brushing together.

Harry moved his hand away, “Sorry. You go…”

Y/n grinned at him, scooping a handful of candy into her palm, and then sat up, adjusting her seating as she crossed her legs together, “Wanna do truth or dare? Pretend like we’re 15 again having a sleepover. Really get into the whole slumber party vibe, ya know?”

Harry dug out a few M&M’s and let out a chesty laugh, “If I’m 15 again we’re in big trouble.”

Y/n snorted a laugh, “Why? What do you mean?”

He shook his head, a wide grin on his face with deep set dimples carved into each cheek as he turned his head to look at her, “If this were happening when I was 15 I’d already be in the bathroom hyperventilating and probably trying to will away a boner after our hands touched in the M&M’s bowl.”

Y/n guffawed and threw her head back, nearly choking on her bite of chocolatey candies as Harry laughed with her. Honestly, it was the best icebreaker she could have asked for. Things had been kind of clunky between them up until that moment as they were still trying to navigate how to act around one another. And she knew he was teasing but the good belly laugh that she got from Harry’s story was exactly what they needed.

“Okay fine. We’ll just keep going about it as adults then. No fifteen-year-olds here tonight,” Y/n chuckled as she shoveled a few kernels of popcorn into her mouth.

Y/n kept her eyes on him as she chewed her mouthful, “So truth or dare?”

Harry cocked his head at her, “So the mood is right then? For truth or dare?”

Y/n’s brows furrowed, “The mood?”

“Yeah. You said it over drinks. Remember when you were telling me what the most important components are to a sleepover and you said you liked truth or dare if the mood was right.”

Nodding slowly, she thought back to what she’d said, “Yeah. I guess I did say that. And I mean… I think the mood’s right for a little truth or dare. Movie’s almost over and you just pretty much kicked us off with that truth.” A breathy laugh was pushed from her mouth.

She could tell Harry was mulling on another question as he bit the inside of his cheek, head tilting in agreement, “So that means it’s your turn. Truth or dare?”

Biting her lip as she pondered, she pressed her back into the soft pillows behind her, “Truth.”

Harry shifted to his side, long legs stretching the length of the mattress as he propped his head up in his hand, a pillow under his arm, “Have you ever kissed a co-worker before?”

Scoffing Y/n moved to her side, mimicking Harry’s position on her side, “No,” she grinned. It was true. She’d never once done anything with any of her coworkers. Having Harry over at her house was the closest she’d ever gotten to doing anything like that. “Now you. Truth or dare?”

His green eyes slid over her features, “Truth.”

She laughed to herself, trying to think of something funny, “How many stuffed animals do you own?”

Licking his lips he nodded, “Think maybe two? Gifts from my niece… Truth or dare?”

“Mmm… dare,” she giggled.

Harry lifted a brow, “Ahhh… feeling bold yeah? Okay… hmm…” He pursed his lips to the side as he considered the dare. “Read to me the last text you sent to anyone. And you have to show me to prove it was the last one. And it can’t be any texts you and me, cause that’s not fair.”

Y/n blinked. She wasn’t exactly sure what her last text was besides Harry. But she was slightly worried because if it was what she was thinking… lifting up her message app she scrolled down to the text thread below Harry’s and it was a text with her sister. Which was what she had been worried about. She gulped, hoping that the things she said about her “coworker” who was coming to stay with her weren’t the last things she and her sister texted about.

Puffing out a breath she covered up all the previous texts to show Harry the last text from her sister – God knows you need it. Sending you good vibes, sis ;)

Harry squinted as he looked at the message and pointed, “That’s to you. The dare was to show me the last text you sent to someone. Let’s see it…”

Feeling her neck heat up she angled the phone away from him and read what she’d sent her sister. And there was no mention of Harry but if he were even halfway decent at picking up clues he might be able to figure out what was being discussed prior.

She shook her head and looked up at him. She couldn’t believe she was about to show him what was on her screen. But a dare was a dare. What was the worst that could happen?

lol I doubt anything will happen but I wouldn’t turn him down. Got condoms just in case 😜 send all your good vibes my way

Harry’s brows squished together as he looked at the text and back to Y/n and then down again at the words on her screen. She saw his throat bob and she knew the look on his face. He fucking knew what that was. He had to know.

She had to look away. She pulled the phone down and killed the screen. The awkwardness between them thick and uncomfortable as she peeked back at him. The edge of his mouth was pulled upward in a smirk, “That’s to your sister?”

Nodding she blew out an exasperated breath, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Harry grinned as he positioned his knee closer to Y/n, his eyes still on hers, “Dare.”

Swallowing her embarrassment down the best she could she decided to ask him the same, “Now show me the last text you sent anyone besides me.”

Harry’s smartass grin told her all she needed to know. That his last text probably wasn’t nearly as risqué as hers.

And it wasn’t. Not even close.

You can have two pounds for free. I’ve got so many growing I can’t keep up. As long as you come to pick them up on Monday they’re yours.

“I have a bunch of zucchini growing in my garden,” Harry pulled the phone away and laid it down next to his hip. “Got a neighbor who wants some.”

Of course, his last text to anyone was about zucchini. Jesus, she was so far out of her depth.

He was still wearing that shit-eating grin as he said, “Truth or dare, Y/n?”

And the way he said her name, all slow and sexy-like had her insides heating up. Well, maybe she made up the sexy part but he was definitely teasing her. She could just feel it.

“Truth.”

She was sure she’d regret that. Truth or dare. It didn’t matter. She was still reeling from showing him her texts.

“Was that text about me?” Shit-eating grin in place as he asked. Fucker.

Y/n’s eyes grew wide dropping her mouth open in surprise. Of course, he was going to ask that. Of course!

“Oh come on, Harry…” she pleaded.

He lifted his brows and awarded her a larger grin with those cute indents scoring into his cheeks, “Them’s the rules, baby. You chose truth and now you have to be honest.”

Clearing her throat she sat up to her bottom and leaned forward so she didn’t have to look at him as she put her head in her hands and laughed in disbelief, “Jesus. Seriously?”

“Yep. Spill. Let’s hear it.”

“Okay. Fine. Yes. It was about you.”

Keeping her eyes on her lap she waited for a smug remark. Some kind of teasing reply but it was quiet. Slowly she turned to look back at him and he was still lying on his side, head in his palm as he watched her, his eyes fixed to hers.

She shrugged, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Harry flattened his lips and squinted at her before cocking his head, “Hold on… Really? That was about me?”

Sighing she rolled her eyes, “Yes. Sorry. I was… it was just funny… it was me joking around with my sister is all.”

He blinked and looked down at the space between them as he nodded, “Okay. I see. So you didn’t actually mean it?”

“Well… I guess… We were joking. Obviously, nothing has to happen. I would never expect that. I…” she breathed out exasperated.

“Obviously nothing has to happen. Did you want it to happen?” His pupils were pinned to hers again.

Opening her mouth she stopped herself for a moment. She knew her answer was yes but she didn’t want to come off like a creep. She hadn’t expected it and assumed it wouldn’t. But the truth remained; she hoped it would happen.

Deflating her posture she laid back to her side to face Harry, tucking a pillow into her chest, “The truth is that I think you’re attractive and I haven’t been with anyone in kind of a long time and… she knows that, my sister. So we were just… it was lighthearted but yeah I mean… without any expectations, cause I would never… I hope you know that. But I did think it would be nice.”

“Nice. Yeah. I agree. It would be nice. And just so you know,” he swung his head to look over his shoulder before looking back at her, “I brought condoms as well. You know… just in case.”

She was a bit stunned at that. Was he…

“Dare me to kiss you,” he grinned, irises dropping to her lips for a second before looking back into her eyes.

She laughed, “That’s not how the game works. The rules are you can’t–”

“Fuck the rules. Dare me to kiss you.”

Shaking her head with a wide smile stretched across her face she felt like her skin was pricking as her heartbeat picked up. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

Looking back into his eyes she inhaled deeply, “Fine. I dare you to kiss me.”

Harry’s smirk was unreal. The way he dragged his gaze over her face and down to her mouth was almost lewd, “Didn’t need to play truth or dare to get me to kiss you, Y/n,” he scooted in, grabbing the pillow she had tucked into her chest and tossing it away before he drew a hand up to her face, “You just needed to ask.”

She held her breath as he closed in slowly until it was as if all the tension in the room had popped and fizzled when his lips met hers.

He was so soft and gentle. Lips winding easily, carefully at first. And then she parted her lips more, kissing him back and letting her mouth press into his bottom lip before their tongues were meshed.

She moved her knee out to stabilize herself and knocked over the bowl of popcorn between them. Laughing into his mouth she gasped as she parted from him but he only reached for her again, placing his palm at the back of her head to pull her mouth back against his with a grunt from his chest as he pushed the bowl away and drove his arm underneath her side to keep her from getting too far.

Harry was softly moaning as his tongue worked its way into her mouth gently. It was clear he’d wanted to kiss her. That he liked it. And that notion made her head spin combined with the feel of his thumb traveling over her jaw. There was not going to be any stopping the momentum that had begun.

Well, except for when the bowl of M&M’s poured out against her leg. She had to push at him. As much as she would have loved to have kept making out, she would not have been able to enjoy melted chocolate on her legs or the bedsheets tucked around the mattress (think of the scrubbing she’d need to do!).

“Sorry,” she panted and looked down at the smashed pieces of popcorn and the chocolate candies strewn between them, “I’ve gotta pick this up. Our body heat will melt all these and it’s gonna be a big mess.”

Harry grinned, “Why don’t we just move this party to your bed for a little bit? Clean up later? The M&M’s won’t melt if we’re not laying on them.”

She laughed, already feeling overwhelmed and overheated from the kiss and now he was suggesting taking it to her bed? This was really happening, wasn’t it? She nodded and they both moved off the sofa sleeper to their feet, Harry following behind Y/n as she led him to her bedroom.

She already had her bedside lamp on. Bed made perfectly, everything tucked in and neat.

She turned to look at him and he stepped against her, palm splaying at her low back, “I dare you to get onto your bed and take your clothes off.”

A small laugh burst from her chest, “Oh, so now we’re just doing dares?”

He nodded, “Making up our own rules for this game. S’more fun this way.”

Letting go of her he watched as she stepped backward toward her bed and began to unbutton her nightshirt until it was shed from her body before she pushed her shorts down her legs. She was left in a pretty white bralette (something soft for bedtime) that stretched around her breasts and a pair of thin cotton panties that matched. She kneed up onto her bed and let her feet dangle off the edge and pointed, “Now I dare you to take off your clothes.”

He peeled his white t-shirt off, his hair mussing in the process. She watched with her lips parted at the gorgeous man stripping before her. Not only was he built exactly like what she dreamed of (tattoos, beefy, muscular, a touch soft, very masculine) but the boner tenting his sweats was hard not to home in on.

Harry stuck his fingers into the waistband and looked up at her, “M’not wearing any underwear, so be warned…”

She swallowed as the material lowered, belly button, happy trail, a bit of dark hair and then he pulled the stretchy waistband away from his body so his cock could push free and she was already clenching at just the sight as he removed his sweatpants, cock full and heavy between his strong thighs.

Jesus Christ.

Harry stepped forward, nudging himself between her knees and she leaned back to look up at him, “I dare you to take off the rest of this. Since I’m completely naked feels only fair.”

She bit her lip and looked down at his girthy dick. He was clearly not shy of his body, standing there like that, cock right in front of her. But why should he be shy when he looked like that?

Scooting back further into the bed she got up to her knees and pulled the bralette off first, feeling the heat of his gaze on her tits as she then slid her panties down her thighs. She wasn’t nearly as confident as Harry was as she quickly pulled at her top blanket and covered herself with a small laugh.

Harry stepped forward, one knee on the mattress before climbing in next to her, nosing at her cheek softly before his lips were connected to hers again. And she melted into him just like before. His mouth was magic or something because before she realized it, he’d pulled the blankets off her body and he had a big palm sliding up her thigh and over her hip, “Don’t cover up. So pretty. Knew you would be.”

She pushed her fingers into his thick wavey hair and felt her side hit the mattress as Harry pulled at her again, mouth still smeared against hers. He grabbed at her thigh, hitching it over his hip as he tucked in closer and it was warm and she could feel it. Feel him against her hip.

His giant hand smoothed against her bottom and up her spine until he was wrapping his long fingers around the back of her neck. Y/n nudged in closer, driving her hips forward until she was practically straddling him. So Harry took that as his cue to move to his back, taking her hips in his hands so she’d follow with him.

It had caught her off guard, the sudden change in position but her lips never stopped moving with his. Their kisses were wet and she could smell their saliva, and a touch of onion even from the burgers he’d eaten.

He guided her hips down, his thick cock hot under her thigh until she felt her pussy drag against warm skin at the base of his dick. A small gasp escaped her mouth as he pulled her up, letting her pussy glide up his length, “So wet already, Y/n…”

She was. It was embarrassing. Every inch of his shaft her pussy dragged against, coated him, wetted his skin. He kept pushing and pulling at her hips, using her slippery pussy like a soft wet toy he could run up and down his length.

Then she felt his fingers move around to her backside, digits sliding against her pussy as he licked into her mouth.

Gently she rolled against him and when she moved herself further down he pushed a fingertip inside, “Go on. Fuck yourself on my finger a little bit,” he whispered against her mouth.

He was filthy. She had no idea. He’d always been so sweet at work. So polite and respectful. But here he was reaching around her ass to get a finger inside of her cunt as she rubbed her pussy over his cock.

She panted into his mouth as she slid down around his finger, her clit smushed into his dick, slippery as she rolled up and down. But then he began to assist as he added another finger and began to fuck into her pussy, letting his digits curve into her the best he could from his angle. Slushy wet, she stopped moving her hips and parted from the kiss as she looked down at him. She could tell she was gushing all over his palm and probably his dick as she moaned.

“S’that feel good. You’re gettin’ my fingers all wet like it feels good.”

Nodding she gasped, “Yeah. Feels so good…”

Harry rutted up against her, his cock still pressed into her clit, and she panted, eyes still searing into his. She didn’t want to look away. She almost couldn’t believe he was in her bed fingering her like that.

“Your turn to dare me to do something. What do you want, Y/n?”

She moaned and closed her eyes. She was certain of what she wanted as she listened to the way his fingers gushed with each plunge into her.

“Fuck… dare you to… put on a condom.”

She popped her eyes open to peer down at him as he slid his fingers out of her, wiping her arousal on her ass, “They right here?” He moved his hand toward her bedside table, a knuckle tapping at the wood.

Climbing off of him she opened the drawer, “Yeah, a whole box. Hold on…”

Reaching over to pull out the condoms she felt Harry’s hands on her hips as he moved to sit up, then his lips were on her back, dotting warm kisses to her shoulder blades as she finally plucked a condom from the fresh box.

She watched him put the condom on and as expected, it didn’t cover his entire length. He was kind of a big guy. Well, maybe there was no kind of about it. Before today she had no idea he was packing like that. Though he always did come off as very confident and sure of himself.

She bit her lip as she watched him toss the wrapper away and then he kneed up to her, arm sliding to her back and carefully lowering her to the bed before spreading her legs apart as he fit himself there, sturdy thighs pushing against her soft ones.

“Gonna tell your sister her good vibes worked?” He smirked down at her, hands scouring her hips and tummy and then kneading softly at her tits.

Y/n laughed and reached a hand down to his knee before he pulled at her, making her thighs drape over his as he inched in closer.

“Hmm?” He was awfully teasing, she thought, grinning at her waiting for an answer.

“Probably,” she spit out in a laugh.

Harry gripped at her thighs, lifting her a bit more to fit her bum over his bent knees and she wanted to scream in embarrassment when she realized he was inspecting her sodden vulva. She’d gotten herself all tidied up for him, should anything like this happen, so at least she had that going for her.

He smoothed his thumb through her pussylips, spreading them apart, and softly blew out a breath, “That is very pretty. Think we get him in there?”

She rolled her eyes as she watched him wrap his palm around his base and lay his fat cock over her mons, the condomed-tip reaching to her belly button, maybe further past, “Well, it’s made for it, so I’m pretty sure–”

“What… your pussy’s made to fit around my cock?” A cocky dimpled smirk gave way to a laugh.

“You know what I meant. It’s meant to… like…” she breathed out a laugh.

“Oh, I know… just fucking with you, Y/n.”

He gazed at her as he reared back, painting his cockhead through her labia, up and down, a soft bump into her clit before he repeated, spreading her soft lips apart as he watched the way his crown smeared her arousal between her creases.

When she moaned and wiggled her hips he pointed himself right at her little muscle, nudging softly forward, opening it up for himself. And she felt that first push, the way his tip fit into her, spreading apart and then stretching to accommodate his circumference.

“Oh god…” she breathed as he slipped in halfway and then pulled back.

“Almost there,” he panted as he kept his eyes on where they were connected, pushing and pulling back until she was swallowing him whole, his cock enveloped in her soft, warm pussy.

When he’d buried in whole, he moaned and watched her face twist up in ecstasy. Her lips were dropped open and her neck stretched long as she grasped onto the forearm of the hand he had gripping her waist.

Slowly he began to thrust, viscous liquid seeping from her pussy and sticking to his shaft. It was filthy. She was so wet that every time he bottomed out there was a splat and a plap sounding between them.

She let out a deep moan and her lips curled up, humid breath escaping her mouth as she felt him driving into her guts. He was taking it easy. Languidly fucking into her with wet claps every time he plunged in.

When her cunt was taking him easier and she was dripping down to her ass he moved in a little harder, faster. Angling himself over her, a palm down on the mattress so he could work into her with more gusto.

“Ah! Harry…” she squeaked at the stronger thrusts and clung onto his lats. He was panting, lips parted and pink, a curl falling over his forehead as he plowed into her splooshing pussy.

“Fuck you’re wet. Pussy is gushing, Y/n…”

Her brows pushed together as she gasped, her body knocked upward every time his hips met hers making her tits bounce. Harry didn’t know where to keep his focus. He loved watching his cock disappear into her hole but he kind of liked being right over her so he could see her face crinkle up every time he bottomed out and then her pretty breasts sway up and down. Or maybe he’d like to fuck her from behind, watch her ass jiggle as he pounded into her.

“Mmm… fuck that’s big!”

Harry groaned, “Yeah? Sure know how to sweet talk a man don’t you, pretty? S’hurt?”

She watched his face, a lusty grin, droopy eyelids as he continued muscling his way in deep.

She hissed when he bucked in, as if he was showing off just how deep he could push in and she coughed out, “Mmm… a little!”

Harry was going to lose his mind with her if she kept squeaking out moans and splatting around his cock like she was but he would be a gentleman and pull back a touch. Slowing down a little he sat up and moved his hand between them, smushing his thumb into her clit, which was so sticky wet even that swished and slid under the pad of his digit.

“Yessss…” she breathed out before murmuring on about how good it felt. “Oh fuck, that’s it. Oh god… please don’t stop… Harry, fuck, yes…”

The clit. The magical little nob that worked wonders as long as the man knew where to find it. Clearly, Harry knew right where it was. Knew how to circle over it, pressing against it just right. Knew how to fuck into her as well. Sliding his length through her vaginal walls, spreading her open, and grazing against her gummy little spot on the inside that had her buzzing and liquifying for him.

He watched her whine and squirm under him, loving how she was so into it. God that was an ego boost, “Like that, Y/n? Gonna come for me? Yeah?”

Her ears were already ringing when she lost herself, gripping around him and crying out as her orgasm washed through her tummy. Harry’s cock made her feel so full, so incredibly stuffed to the brim that it weighed her down and she could hardly move as he bulldozed into her, the pad of his thick thumb smushing fast circles over her throbbing nub.

Fucking her through it he gasped at how she spasmed and milked around him, her pussy trying to siphon his come right through his condom. But Harry wouldn’t come just yet. He had something to prove. Wanted to make a show of his prowess and give her something to tell her sister about.

So when she was finally calmed and her pussy wasn’t clamping around him like a vice grip he slid his hand under her head and kissed her gently, speaking low and soft against her lips, “Gonna have you flip over, okay? Just need a little more yeah?”

When he parted from the kiss she blinked up at him, fluttering lashes and out of breath, “You didn’t come?”

He shook his head, pulling himself out, gently before he placed his hands on her hips, “Not yet. I will soon, though. M’right on the edge. Won’t take me long.”

She rolled to her side as he lifted her hips and helped her get to her tummy. She felt his hands on her ass, squeezing and rubbing each meaty globe in his big palms. Then he was straddling her thighs as he spread her gently and she felt him push his thick tip back into her pussy, sharp and hot. It was tighter, felt a lot fuller like that as he began driving in deep and then pulling out to his tip, before plowing back into the hilt.

His moans grew louder and, even he could admit, sounded quite whiny, pathetic. He was shaking as he watched his dick spread her in half, her soft ass jiggling as he smacked into her, skin patting, his cock leaking precum steadily into his condom.

He hissed when it felt too good. His balls squeezing and his fat dick throbbing inside of her. He thrusted forward, landing a palm down next to her shoulder, his chest pressed into her back as he rutted himself in, tucking his cock through her insides and puffed out a hot groan into her ear, “Fuck you feel good. Gonna make me come, baby…”

She moaned and nodded, “Come for me, Harry…”

He might have held out for another thirty seconds, possibly a minute longer but her breathy words, all sultry and pleading had him pumping into his condom in an instant. He gargled on a moan and squeezed his eyes closed as he buried in and stilled his hips, ass flexing so he could push in further if it were possible.

Y/n felt him crushing her back as he collapsed over her, panted breaths in her ear, cock still throbbing in the aftermath of his orgasm.

She didn’t mind it. Liked his weight on her like that. Enjoyed the way he seemed just as fucked out as she was. She could even feel his heart pounding in his chest against her back.

With a moan, she turned her head and nuzzled her face into her blanket with her eyes closed. She’d fall asleep that way if he couldn’t get up. It was quite warm and comforting. Like a weighted blanket draped over her body. And maybe she did doze off for a bit because when she opened her eyes she felt him moving off of her before he crashed down next to her, the springs in her mattress bouncing under him.

Pushing herself to lie on her side she ran a hand over his chest and he turned to look at her, a dopey smile on his flushed face, “So this is what happens at slumber parties, huh? I’ve really missed out all these years.”

She giggled and nodded into her pillow, “Yep. They’re just like big orgies really. Normally there are more than just two people. It’s how I lost my virginity.”

Harry sputtered a laugh, “Really?”

Y/n couldn’t help but to cackle loudly and roll to her back, the biggest grin on her face, “No, silly. I was teasing.”

He slid a hand over her tummy, “So this isn’t what happens at slumber parties, then?” She could hear the cheeky smile in his voice.

She turned her head to look at him, “Well, not usually. But I think we made our own rules for this one today.”

“Yeah? Well, I have to give it to you. You throw a hell of a party. I’m certain this is gonna go down as the best sleepover in history.”

. . .

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atrwriting · 1 year ago

Text

kisses and other sweet things — billy the kid x cowgirl!reader

ok… i couldn’t help myself lol

also side note i don’t remember what scene this gif was from but i feel like his turned on look and look of disgust/confusion is the same — like if i hadn’t watched the show i’d be like “did he just see a pretty girl walk in?? or did someone just threaten him?? both??? hopefully both???”

but like also if he looked at me like that…,,,… melting. on the spot.

as always, warnings: smuuuuut, dom!billy, brat!reader, i don’t know if you can call it non-con but just to be safe im going to put that, p in v sex, oral, spitting in mouth (yeah i went there sue me), tears, biting, cums inside of reader (they didn’t have condoms in his time but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use them!!!!)

also don’t sue me i don’t know if they had running water (sinks, baths, etc) but also the real billy the kid didn’t look this fine so we’re making it up as we go and going with the flow

ENOUGH TALK — here’s kisses and other sweet things…

you had been working with a crew for some time now, and as you all struggled to keep a cash flow — you had to turn to other things.

like joining forces with another crew.

the idea of joining a crew wasn’t what unsettled you — what unsettled you was being the only woman with a gun with even more men.

it’s just for one job, y’all, they had said. just this one.

one job turned into two. then that turned into three. four, five, six — and suddenly you knew everyone’s back story, drink of choice, and their type when it came to women of the night.

your first crew never asked how you felt, but you also never told them. they were all — including you — in it for the money. at the end of the day, it was all about what you had in your pockets. there was no time for quelling the simple worries, like they’d call the ones in your head.

at the end of the day — you had been doing this a long time. you had taken care of yourself up until this point, and you would continue to do so. didn’t matter who you were working with — you’d get it done.

after a day of success, everyone wanted to blow off steam. you all had found a boarding house for the night where the alcohol ran deep and there was two or three pretty women for each cattle rustler in your large group. you stayed behind a bit to drink with them, but once they started eyeing the women — you knew it was time to go.

sleeping with any of the men you worked with was also a bad idea. you couldn’t afford them seeing you as anything less than someone quick with a draw — and you worried a night of meaningless sex would ruin that.

you would never take the chance.

“have your fun, boys,” you chuckled. “you deserve it.”

“won’t stay a little longer, sweetheart?” your leader asked as a girl licked at his neck.

“another time — bath’s calling my name.”

a few pleasantries were thrown over shoulders, and you returned them. you made your quick escape up the stairway and into the shared washroom between three or four bedrooms. you knew your party had rented those rooms for the evening, so you were very excited to be able to have the bath to yourself for a little bit longer than usual.

you filled the tub with scalding hot water. the steam from the water and the whisky in your stomach made you hazy, but you welcomed it. who knew when you’d have until you had this sort of luxury or privacy again — you weren’t going to waste the chance.

the bath was quite large — fit for two or three people. you stayed on one edge as you washed your dirty skin. you were about to relax against the back when the doorknob began to turn.

you immediately snatched your gun and pointed it at the door.

“shit — sorry.”

it was the bonney kid.

he was holding a towel in his hand and was naked from the waist up. a scared look on his face was present as he tried to avert his eyes.

you put down the gun and raised an eyebrow, waiting for his next move.

“just came to wash up,” he spoke.

you knew he couldn’t see anything from where he stood, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to see below the water’s surface with the bubbles. you could tell him to fuck off — but being mean to some of these assholes sometimes proved to be worse than just swallowing your pride and being nice. you didn’t know billy very well — and you weren’t about to find out while you were naked if he was an asshole or not.

“i’m going to be a bit,” you spoke. “i don’t mind if you come in.”

he looked at you uneasily before nodded curtly, lips parting. you closed your eyes and leaned back against the tub, letting your eyes drift closed. you heard the water running and the sound of soap being scrubbed onto skin, and felt better. the next sound you heard was a razor being pulled out and your eye drifted open.

he was shaving.

he kept his gaze on himself in the mirror as he spoke. “surprised the kid can shave?”

you smiled. “never thought you were a kid from how you were with a gun.”

that made him smile. “never seen a women like you with a gun before.”

you hummed in response, not exactly sure how to respond.

“come up here to escape?”

that made you laugh. you couldn’t help but let your gaze fall on his reflection in the mirror. his eyes were trained on his skin as he let the blade slide down his neck and pull up loose hairs. your mind was hazy with drink and heat, which made you forget to respond.

“some people would say it’s rude to stare, sweetheart.”

you laughed at that — he had you there.

“and some people would say it’s rude to intrude on a woman’s bath,” you countered.

he smiled, but kept his eyes off you. you’d like to think it was out of respect. “…and would you?”

“not with you,” you offered. “you’re the only one who hasn’t tried to make a pass at me.”

“not hard to believe,” he spoke. “downstairs they’ve got a running bet to see who will be the first with you.”

you scoffed. “in their dreams.”

billy didn’t respond. he was almost done with shaving. he was washing more of his upper arms in the sink, and you suddenly felt bad. you were only taking this long because you thought everyone would be preoccupied with the downstairs activities, and because you couldn’t exactly exit with him standing there — able to see you.

“i can leave if you want to wash,” you spoke.

“water will be cold,” he responded. “‘s fine — i’ll wait the hour.”

you weren’t sure why — but that made you feel bad.

“you could join me.”

you weren’t sure what brought that on, and you knew you’d probably regret it later. however, billy’s eyes drifted up the length of the mirror to the edge where you knew he could see the tub, to your eyes. you weren’t sure how you looked — but you knew your curls were piled on top of your head and you looked sleepy. relaxed, even. peaceful.

“i don’t think you mean that, sweetheart.”

you hummed. “you don’t have to. just thought i’d offer.”

he appeared to sigh, and that’s when you thought he would leave — but he didn’t.

instead, he locked the door.

“should’ve done that in the first place,” he spoke before coming towards the tub to unlace his pants.

you turned your head away from him and let out a small giggle, shielding your gaze from his naked form. “how would we have gotten so well acquainted then, mr. bonney?”

you heard him find the other side of the tub where he sat back against. you let your eye line find in front of you and your jaw almost dropped at the sight. billy appeared to struggle to get comfortable as he sank into the warmth of the tub. the water line came up to right under his chest, showing off all of his perfect and trim muscles. with billy’s arms stretched out around the edge of the tub… you got the perfect view of the stretched muscles of his biceps.

“do i need to remind you about staring?” he asked.

you weren’t sure if he was joking — but he was right. if you wanted respect, you had to give it, too.

but you couldn’t deny just how handsome he was.

“sorry,” you said with a coy smile, and let your head fall back against the tub again.

you could hear water slightly splashing from the other side of the tub. billy had extended his legs so they were brushing yours slightly, and you shivered at the thought.

“can you…” he began. “can you get my back?”

you lifted your head and smiled. i can do all that and more if you asked, you thought.

“sure,” you said with a simple smile.

billy turned around and handed you the soap. there were a few cuts and bruises littered on his back, and you tried to be as careful with them as possible. you started on his neck, working the soap and the sponge against his muscles.

he hummed in response. you could’ve died at the thought of the big, bad billy the kid keening into your touch because you were massaging his muscles just right.

“that feels good,” he spoke. “talented fingers i suppose.”

you laughed lightly at that. you kept the sponge on his shoulders, and then worked down towards the expansion of his shoulder blades. it was scary to see such a broad man before you as you were so bare, but also the look of him was so enticing. you drew rough circles on his skin and worked your way down to the middle of his back.

“that’s good,” he replied. “thank you, darlin’.”

you went to hand the sponge back to him, but he turned around in place instead. the tops of your breasts were showing and you knew he could see the wildness in your eyes.

“how’d a sweet thing like you end up with us?” he asked, eyes searching yours for the answer.

“maybe i’m just the only one who knows how to handle you boys,” you spoke, trying to be coy. “actually… one of them i grew up with. we’ve always worked together, but that’s as far as it’s ever gone.”

“and what would he say if he knew if you were in here with me?” he asked.

you scrunched your eyebrows at him. “wouldn’t be his business. he’s also got a pretty blonde in his lap tonight. change of pace from his usual red head.”

“and he missed a chance to get to see you like this?” he asked, tucking a curl behind your ear.

“is his loss your gain, mr. bonney?” you asked, a smile drifting onto your face.

that was bold. you knew it. you could feel it.

“i think you’d have to ask the pretty miss before me,” he responded, inching his face closer. “she’d be mighty sweet if she let me kiss her.”

“she’s pretty pissed you haven’t already.”

he stared at you for a few minutes with his plump and pink lips parted in such a way where you knew thoughts were running behind his pretty eyes. he dipped his forehead towards yours as the intensity of the situation mixed with the hot steam around you and the liquor inside both of you. he dipped his chin once, and caught your waiting lips with ease.

his lips were dry and cracked against yours, but you loved it. billy was the type of man that was hard and worked even harder, and every bit of him reflected that. his dark curls were twirling around his hairline, mixing with sweat and soapy water. you wanted to brush them back, hop in his lap, and kiss him until there was more water on the floor than in the tub.

but you couldn’t — not yet.

billy’s lips folded between yours as if he was just happy to be here — with you. the feeling was intoxicating as there was nothing like sharing intimacy with a sweet man in the comfort of hot water. you couldn’t help yourself in that moment — you brought your hand up to cup the side of his face, and he sucked in a sharp breath in response.

“you can touch me, you know,” you whispered.

“the things i want to do to you, darlin’…” he spoke, shaking his head and trying to catch his breath at the same time. “shouldn’t be wasted in a tub. let me take you back to your room.”

you both left the bathtub and tried your best to dry off as quickly as possible. it was almost hard to believe you were giggling with billy like innocents as you raced back to your room — hoping not to run into any more cowboys.

you immediately pushed him to sit down on the edge of the bed before you climbed into his lap. his thighs were strong and thick — the perfect foundation for a thing like you to hold yourself up enough to grab his cock in your hands, and swallow his moans through another kiss.

“tried not to stare in the bathtub, billy… but can you blame me?” you asked, breathless.

“noticed you starin’,” he grunted, running his calloused hands all over your body. “couldn’t help but stare back. needed to see where the trigger on you was.”

you squealed in delight at his dirty mouth before he threw you off his lap and rolled you over. he immediately started kissing down your body.

“i want you inside me, billy,” you whined. “not that.”

he worked his way back up to you before he caught you in another chaste kiss. against your lips, he spoke, “i’m a gentleman, sweetheart, first and foremost.”

“and what if a dirty little thing like me didn’t want a gentleman?”

he caught your chin in between his pointer finger and thumb and extended your neck ever so slightly. he looked down his nose at your pretty, flushed face. you smiled up at him as he scanned your face. “then i’d tell you — if i’ve got you all to myself, i’m going to do anything i want with that pretty little pussy. planned on tastin’ you, sweetheart — you got a problem with that?”

a wide grin spread across your face as your cheeks became rosier. “can’t say i can argue with you, then, cowboy.”

he pressed a heavy kiss to your lips, your cheek, one on the base of your neck — and then bit down hard on the skin of your shoulder. immediately, your hands came up to lay across his biceps before he began to suck on the spot, sending shock waves throughout your body. he withdrew from you and was in between your thighs in an instant.

he spread your legs and held them down in place. his tongue was strong and thick as it explored the places between your folds. you hoisted yourself onto your elbows so you could get a better look at the angel before you.

you watched as his eyes close as his tongue drew sloppy, wet circles around your clit. your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you watched him bring a hand up to his mouth, lubricate his fingers, and prod at your entrance. billy let out a throaty groan as his two fingers slipped in with ease, exploring for that one special spot.

he watched as your pussy swallowed his fingers, hoping to trap them inside of you. you were almost vibrating at how good it felt to have his fingers inside of you and his drier thumb deliver the most delicious bouts of friction and pressure to your clit.

“yes —“ you gasped, gazing at his fingers.

his eyes immediately flicked up to yours. “still got a problem with this, doll?”

you folded your lips into each other as you shook your head slowly, holding his gaze. you were biting back the moan as he curled your fingers inside of you.

“no, that’s not how this works,” he stated. “if i’m making you feel that good, i should get to hear those pretty moans, don’t you think?”

a deep crease was forming in your brow with the perfect combination of friction, lubrication, pressure, and rhythm you had ever felt. you wanted to respond to him, of course, but how could you?

“i gotta work for it, that it?” he grunted. “oh, sweet thing…”

he shoved a third finger inside of you and you gasped. you couldn’t help it. you fisted the sheets on either side of you and threw your head back in the air. his thumb was working long, drawn out circles on your sensitive clit as your hips bucked up to meet his movements.

“that’s what you needed, baby?” he asked. “break so easily. i’d fit another, but this pussy is so sweet and tight — can’t fit.”

you were practically whining at his words. he would switch between his tongue and thumb every few seconds to show you the type of variety that had your toes curling. his groans against your pussy were the added vibration that kept your hips moving to meet his face.

“tastes so fuckin’ sweet,” he grunted, his eyes closed. “can’t wait to stuff my cock in there.”

“don’t be mean to me, billy,” you gasped. “i want to feel your cock so bad, please…”

“no, baby,” he refused. ��not until i make you feel good. you want my cock? yeah, well — you know what i want.”

you whined in frustration at his words — his words, the addition of what was making the heat and pressure build, and build, and build inside you until you were a sobbing mess on the bed.

“that’s it, sweetheart — give in,” he gasped. “i wanna know how good i’m making you feel.”

his voice was so husky it was taking over all of your senses. you hung onto every word as he led you closer and closer to what was your tipping point. he was stretching you so taut — like a string, ready to snap. when he suddenly pulled his hand away, you barely noticed it — until he replaced it with his cock.

you gasped at what came next.

first it was your legs — they immediately began to shake uncontrollably. the immense pressure started at your curled toes, your stretched feet, and worked its way up all the way to your shaking calves and thighs. the warmth coaxed your hips into a soft roll as you rode out your orgasm — blinded by the ecstasy of it all.

you immediately grabbed onto billy for dear life as all of your senses fucking swam. it was wave, after wave, after wave that hit you, arched your back towards the ceiling, and left you fucking breathless. your mouth fell open instantly, parted as whines and soft moans left and filled the open air of your bedroom.

and what did billy do? he grabbed you by the chin, still rutting his hips against yours, and spit in your fucking mouth.

“swallow,” he ordered, eyes boring down into yours.

you gasped as you understood his command, and like the good girl you were — you did as you were told.

“good girl,” he whispered from above you, stroking your chin.

you sucked in a sharp breath of air as you tried to regain your senses. you hoisted yourself back into your elbows, trying to focus — but it was just so hard. your pussy was so, so sensitive and it was like billy’s cock knew exactly out how to drag out your orgasm. you glanced up at billy, and realized your vision was blurry. shattered, fucked out beyond belief — you realized there were tears, literal tears in your eyes.

“no breaks for you, sweetheart,” he spoke, leaning over and holding your hips down. “need to make sure this pussy knows who she belongs to.”

your body refused to stop shaking — but it gave into every touch, caress, pull, and push from billy. you were his to use and you fucking relished in the feeling.

through your dark, thick, damp lashes, you glanced up at him. immediately, his bright, wild eyes connected with yours. there was no stopping the animal before you — not until he got his fix. the pure and pretty girl who always surprised the group with her skill was laying beneath him like a fucked out doll and he couldn’t get enough.

“please, billy,” you whined, biting down on your lip. “use my pussy just like that…”

“my fucking pussy,” he grunted.

“all yours, baby,” you gasped, laying victim to the curling warmth inside your womb once again. it was like an itch that needed to be scratched, and only billy could fix it. the idea of a second orgasm taunted you — teased you, until it was the only thing you could think about. you were close… so close… “billy, fuck — you’re going to make me — you’re gonna —“

“that’s it, baby, yeah —“ his thrusts were getting sloppier now as a light sheen of sweat lay across his forehead. the veins in his biceps and neck were protruding and his eyes were trained on your face. “bein’ so good f’me.”

“billy —“ you cried, tears coming to your eyes again. you reached for him, and brought him down to you. he held you by the back of the head and held your jaw in place with his thumb. through gritted teeth and wet eyes, you sobbed, “driving me fucking crazy.”

“yeah, yeah?” he taunted. “good. boutta make a mess of this fuckin’ pussy.”

with one last thrust, you curled into billy’s neck and cried. actually cried. he held you close to him as he continued to thrust inside of you — pressing fat, wet kisses to the side of your face. you were shaking in his hold, trying so desperately to hold onto reality — but it was slipping. it was slipping farther and farther away with every sweet word that billy ghosted over your ear.

“say you’re mine,” he ordered, with desperation in your voice. “say you’re mine, and i’ll cum.”

“i’m yours, billy,” you sobbed. “i’m yours. only yours.”

an animalistic groan left billy’s mouth as he tugged on your hair. he pulled your neck back and taut, shoving his face into the crook of your neck and biting down on your shoulder. his body pulsed one, two, three times as his orgasm overtook him and you. you were a weeping, crying mess and took everything that billy gave you.

he rut his cock into you a few more times as you both came down for your highs. billy was so commanding in bed — but after? nothing compared to how he was after. he pulled you into his lap, cock still inside you, and began peppering kisses all over your face. sweet nothings were whispered into your ear, but all you could do was whimper quietly in response. he laughed slightly in your ear, his breath ticking your sensitive skin, and dug his nose into your hairline.

“never getting rid of me now, sweet thing.”

- - -

would love to hear your thoughts :)

-L

#billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid smut #billy the kid #william bonney smut #william h bonney x reader #william bonney #kid antrim #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you

3K notes · View notes

cherry-leclerc · 7 months ago

Text

star-crossed ☆ mv1

genre: angst, fluff, humor, lots of back and forth, smut

word count: 9.1k

Fixated, you and Max struggle to stay away from one another. All the while, everyone tries to convince you that it won't ever work out.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, fingering

inspired by this !

cherry here!...as a wise person once told me: footnotes = crumbs. hope that helps!! enjoy :)

The table was long, practically going for miles, but not really—it was just your closest friends. They all converse with one another, talking about the upcoming season, the upcoming season, and oh, what’s that? The upcoming season. And you’ve had enough of it, he can tell, so he gently rubs his thumb over your hand, easing your nervous tick.

White florals lay neatly on the wooden top, fairy lights hang up above your heads, and Frank Sinatra plays from your fiancé’s phone, connected to the Bluetooth.

Pierre stands up firmly, clinking his glass with a spoon. When it doesn’t seem to get anyones attention, Alex lets out a loud whistle. Everyone’s heads turn. “Merde—finally. Well, first of all, welcome on behalf of the groom's best man!” Crickets. His smile drops. “I-Its me. I’m the best man.”

“More like Best Party Killer. Sit down,” Daniel yells, aiming a peony at his friend's head.

The Frenchman swats it away, to which Kika glares as it hits her. He nervously chuckles, pecking her cheek, swiftly. “Comme je le disais…we’re here to celebrate two very important people. Can ya take a guess?”

“Why did you choose Pierre as your best man again?” you whisper to the twenty-six year old. He shrugs, hushing you once before his watercolor eyes flicker back to his friend.

“Any more guesses?”

“Okay, thank you!” you yelp, standing up and motioning him down. “Thank you, Pierre, for saying a whole lot of nothing, really.”

The blue eyed boy silently pleads, hands pressed together in prayer. “Oui, oui, I’m done, I’m done.” A warm hand snakes to wrap around your wrist and you sigh, sitting back down onto his lap. He clears his throat. “I thought we could go around and…share some stories about the soon-to-be husband and wife. I’ll start.”

“Great,” Kika groans, massaging her temples.

“September 4, 2022.”

Circuit Zandvoort—September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)

“You said it would be warm!”

Lissie squeals when you reach out to pinch her forearm. “I said slightly warm. More so cool.” A harsh glare. She winces. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Despite the evident goosebumps, you march your way over to the pen, awaiting your first interview. Lissie stands besides you, raising two thumbs up and a toothy grin. You got this! Your stomach churns as you fix your set up. She’s right, you’ve worked for this moment, day and night. You weren't going to mess up for any reas—

“Should I just come back later or…”

Blinking, your heart stops beating as your mouth runs completely dry. He looks around for his publicist who just sighs and starts tugging him away.

And we’re here with Max Verstappen, Lissie hisses—assisists. Coughing loudly, you bring up the microphone to your lips. “Max Verstappen!” The RedBull driver turns back to face you, clearly puzzled. You cringe at your sudden outburst, but continue. “So nice to see you. Saw you had a magnificent drive.”

Blue eyes pierce basically through your soul. He smiles, shoulders relaxing, hands leaning against the barrier. “Yeah. We did have a lot of luck on our side today. Plenty.”

It wasn’t that hard to pick up from there, question after question being basically given to you, to which he answers with professional ease. His dimples even pop out with every punctuation, it makes your chest swell. You clear your throat, eyes flickering to your list that now narrows down to one last inquiry.

“Everyone nowadays fears you, it seems like.” He laughs, rolling his eyes. “But I do have one question—how does it feel to be the villain in all of Formula One?”

His smile slips away. “Sorry?”

“Uh-oh,” Lissie mutters.

But you don’t catch onto it, his sudden defensive tone, his dark glare. Beaming like the sun on the earth, you nod. “Well you aren’t the most liked, per se. Often hated by others. Do you think your dominance has affected your relationship with the drivers on the grid?”

When you finally look up, you clearly notice his change in demeanor, and that makes you flinch. We should get going, his publicist squeaks, already pushing him away. Let’s not air that last question, thank you.

Fiercely, you turn to face your friend. “I still had a minute left!”

“Why would you say that?” she screeches. “Why, why, why?”

You blink. “I’m lost. What did I do wrong?”

The brunette sighs, brown orbs analyzing the short clip. “You got on Max Verstappen’s bad side, that’s what.”

“Their relationship had started rather…rocky,” Pierre announces, swaying his hands back and forth for emphasis. “But don’t you worry! I. Fixed. Everything.”

“She really said that?”

Max whips his head to Checo, then to Yuki, then to Pierre. Each wears a loopy smile. He scowls. “She’s new here, she must be—I’ve never seen her before. Who does she think she is?”

“A legend, that’s who,” the Frenchman retorts, almost high and mighty.

Max takes a long sip of his energy drink before scoffing. “I don’t care if she’s royalty, I’m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.”

A few hours have now rolled by and you’ve finally realized—you messed up. Here you go, basically painting him out to be the bad guy, when really, he’s just a strong driver. No one thinks he’s a villain, you think he’s a villain.

“You think he’s going to protest against me? Get me fired? Boycott? Hates me?”

Lissie giggles, tidying up the equipment from the last round. “No. No. No. Maybe?”

Groaning, you hit your forehead over and over again with your clipboard before a sharp accent makes you stop. “Hello.”

“Oh! Hi!”

His lips stretch, then steps closer to you. “I’m Pierre—”

“I know who you are,” you cut him off. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m—”

“New?”

Your cheeks burn up at his accuracy. “Yes?”

“I thought so,” he pronounced with a goofy grin. Annoyance builds up inside of you but hold back and bite your tongue. The Frenchman fixes his sunglasses that lay on the bridge of his nose. “So…I’m going to take the chance and say that what you asked wasn’t meant to hurt his feelings?”

You soften up quickly. “I hurt his feelings?”

A nose scrunch. “Let me backtrack; Max doesn’t have feelings, therefore there’s nothing to hurt, but he does hold killer grudges, so yeah.” He lifts the frames. “He doesn’t like you.”

“Lovely,” Lissie mumbles from her spot besides you. “Is there a way…we…can fix all this misunderstanding? Because that’s what this is! A misunderstanding!”

The Alpha Tauri driver clicks his tongue in deep thought. “There’s not much to do other than apologize. Explain yourselves, maybe? He’s very Old-Fashioned.”

“Okay, yes.” You scurry down the paddock. “I could do that! I could so do that.”

“Other way!” he yells. Turning around, you see him pointing you down to the right. You giggle, nervously, and continue your sprint.

You catch him quite fast; his tall stature and blond hair are pretty easy to spot. “Hey—hi!” Gasping for air, you clutch onto your side. “H-hello. Again.”

His jaw ticks once, and in an eerie motion, a warm smile forms. You shudder. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to apologize about before. That was not the right thing to say, I am so sorry…please don’t demand for my release.”

A dark brow quirks up, looks around, then back down to you. “I’m not here to ruin your life, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

You sigh in relief. “God. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Crouching down to you, he tilts his head to the side with a sly grin. “You’re very welcome, but that doesn’t mean I like you.”

Your breath hitches, shivers spreading like a wildfire. “Sorry?”

“Yeah.” He steps away. “You already said that.”

“He was a bit guarded. Definitely guarded.”

“Isn’t this supposed to make me look good?” your fiancé grunts, dark eyes narrowing down on the Frenchman. “You know what? Just sit down.”

Pierre smirks. “See? Guarded.”

Autodromo Nazionale Monza—September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)

“I’m not a quitter.”

“There we go!”

“But he makes me want to quit.” “Oh, well now we’re back to square one,” Pierre groans. “He’s being hard headed, that’s all. I’ll talk to him again, don’t worry.”

And he does.

It happens during one of the worst moments in your life; you weren’t wearing makeup.

“You look—”

“Hideous?” You blush. “Yeah, don’t even mention it.”

He swallows, digging his hands deep into his pockets. “I wanted to apologize… for the way I reacted. It was immature.”

“N-no, you had every right to be upset. I crossed the line and I’m sorry.”

Max nods, Adam’s Apple dancing up, then down. “Truce?”

Staring down at his large hand, you smile and slip yours past it. “Truce.”

And as a rare occasion, his smile meets his eyes, crinkles and all. The RedBull driver disconnects first, then rubs his jaw once before signaling down to your wet hair. “Pool day, I see? Enjoying the benefits?”

With a cheesy look, you shrug. “It’s one way to relieve stress.”

“Yeah—and what’s another?”

His tone is sultry and irresistible, you can’t help but rip your gaze away. “Anything that brings thrill, I suppose.” A tick. “Whatever that may be.”

“And what if it’s something bad? Does that still count?”

You laugh, throwing your head back. The Dutchman’s lips wobble as a weak attempt to not smile. “You’re not a bad person, so yes.”

His tongue clicks. “Uh, I don't know. As I recall, you called me a villain?”

Groaning, you gently smack his chest. “Will you ever let it go?”

“Might take me a while…”

Just as you’re about to respond, your phone rings and you smile. “L-Lissie.”

The blue eyed boy nods. “Are you going to be interviewing me from now on?”

“Ah—is my ban lifted?”

“Yes.”

You roll your eyes. “Then yes.” Strolling past him, you wave. “See you around. And put on some sunscreen. It’s good for you.”

“Where are you even going with any of this?” Lewis hollers from the end of the table, taking a sip of wine. “You’ve just been talking about yourself, not them.”

Pierre scowls. “I’m getting there!” He returns his attention to the couple, gleaming. “So, as you can imagine, once I weaseled my way in and fixed their problems—your welcome, by the way—a certain spark came through. It was clearly evident.”

Marina Bay Street Circuit—October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)

“Nepo-Baby?”

You hum. “They all are.”

Lissie groans. “So how will I know which one?”

“Oh, you’ll know.” Squinting accusingly, the British girl sticks her tongue out before standing up, hands on her hips. She yawns. “I have to go find Will. Something about—whatever, you probably don’t even care.”

You giggle. “Nope. Have fun.”

Silence engulfs you as you close your eyes momentarily, pulling your coat over your chest.

“Don’t you have to watch the race in order to report back on it? Ask questions?”

“Dude, I was just falling asleep…” You peek an eye open. “And yes. But it hasn’t started, so I'm clear.”

Max whistles, unimpressed. Falling down next to you on the fluffy couch, he places his hands over his stomach, closing his eyes, too. You try not to laugh and instead do the same.

“Haven’t seen you around much.”

“Been hiding from you.”

“Seems like. Don’t do that.”

“Fine.” You grin, sitting up straight. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“Probably.”

You snicker, pink tongue poking from in between your teeth. The cold air makes you snuggle deeper into your wannabe-blanket and he can’t help but take occasional glances. Teeth chatter. “C’mon. I’ll walk you.”

“...and I turned and said, isn’t that Celine Dion?” Lissie waves her hands back and forth, swaying like a Fly Guy. She pouts, stopping her movements. “Turns out I was just really freaking high.” Will laughs, jotting down God knows what onto a piece of paper as she continues cluttering herself with an obnoxious amount of wires. The British girl huffs. “Y’know, sometimes I wonder if it was—” A sharp gasp. “Him? Oh my—it’s him!”

“Don’t you mean her?” Will hums from his spot, still not looking up.

But wide-eyed Lissie stares with her jaw on the floor as you and Max cross by, laughing and pushing each other as you make your way down the paddock. As soon as you blush when he winks, it becomes all the more real. The young reporter nods, curled hair bobbing up and down.

“R-right—her.”

Autódromo José Carlos Pace—November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)

“Is he cute? Yeah, maybe.” A finger pinches her top lip before releasing. “In a weird way.”

“Hey,” you warn.

“Is he your type? Don’t know why, but yes. I could see why you’re into him.”

“Great…”

“But is he the right choice? No. Not at all.”

“...and fantastic.” Flopping down onto your towel, you groan. Suddenly the blazing sun wasn’t the worst feeling because Lissie was right. It’s unbearable, almost. You prop up, facing her with a scrunched nose and squinted eyes. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh?”

“Oh no.” A sip of coconut water. She purses her lips. “God no.” You sigh, slowly, then sprawl back down with a sour snarl. You can hear her debate; muttering, mumbling. Still, that doesn’t get rid of your bad mood. The brunette pokes your thigh gently, nibbling her bottom lip. “He’s just so—and you’re just so—” A beat. “I’m just looking out for you.”

“Yeah.” Waves crash harder. Sun beams brighter. You open up the bottle of sunscreen, spurting some onto your burnt legs. You rub briskly; up, down. She flinches. “Yeah, I know.”

“And for a while, that was that,” Pierre announces, feigning indifference. “No more love birds.”

“Oh,” George blurts. Dark brows pinch up, teasing smile playing out. “Then why are we here?”

“Oh God,” you groan, digging your face into the nape of the twenty-six year old. You can faintly sniff out his musk scent, clean and so him. It makes you smile like a teen. “What if we just elope?”

He chuckles, vibrating and sending you on your own personal rollercoaster. “We always can. Is that what you want?” And he asks because he knows—no. That’s not what you want. Separating yourself to peck his cheek, you shake your head with a playful pout. “No. That’s not what I want.”

“Good.” Watercolor eyes flicker to where Pierre finally gets yanked down and Lissie takes over with a proud smile. “Because I think this is actually going somewhere.”

Bahrain International Circuit—-March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)

So you kept your distance, and oddly enough, he did too. For plenty of reasons. And it wasn’t even that hard, really. He spent his summer break traveling and you spent yours as a homebody. No texts, no calls, no nothing.

“Heads or tails?”

“Tails.”

A sly grin. The silver coins flips a couple rounds before jumping up and down, clapping. “Heads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.”

“You’re going to get a sugar high and not be able to sleep later.”

“Until I can feel my teeth rot,” you retort, slipping your tongue over your pearly whites.

Answering a few emails, you perch onto a chair. It’s too stiff, so you twist and turn until you ultimately decide to just stand. A gust of wind salutes you as your orbs flicker up to the sudden shadow. A breath catches.

Max tilts his head in greeting. “Working hard already?” Your lips part. “The season’s barely begun.”

And just like that, your world tilts on its axis, but this time with more to lose.

“As your best friend—” Lissie points clumsily at Carmen who giggles while the British girl furrows her thick brows. She glances around before spotting you dying with laughter on your fiancé’s lap. She claps. “I knew straight away—he was the one for you.”

Miami International Autodrome—-May 7, 2023 (Miami Grand Prix)

“How long has this been going on for?” she hisses, disappointed eyes challenging both you and Max. She gags at the hickeys on your neck and his tousled hair.

With wobbly legs, you take her hands into yours. “A week—”

“No.”

“Well, two—”

Green paints her face. “No.”

“One month,” he murmurs from his corner in the elevator. Watercolor eyes flicker up, loopy. “It’s been a month. Ever since—”

“Azerbaijan.” Shamefully, you look down at your shoes and nearly scream bloody murder when you spot your thong just a few steps behind her. “Ew, gross,” Lissie gasps, shutting her eyes in despair. Taking in the opportunity, you scatter down and retrieve the thin fabric. The Dutchman releases a laugh, but bites down when the British girl glares hard. She curls a brow at your breathless state. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Giggling nervously from your place on the floor, you keep your hands behind your back; out of sight, out of mind. “Begging for forgiveness?”

“Oh stop it, a piece of land is what I need in order to forgive you for being dumb as shit.”

You frown, but quickly stand up when she exits the elevator. You can hear him follow with a bored expression. “Lissie, wait!”

Like a spinning top, she turns back, long layers slapping her pink face. “You two know this isn’t a good idea, right?”

“Yes—”

“For a million different reasons—”

“I-I’m aware,” you stutter.

“Then why did you do it?” she whispers.

And the truth is, you don’t know. All you know is that nothing else matters when you're with him. It’s sickening how blindsighted you get. Anxious eyes twirl over to the blue eyed boy who shared the same expression despite being unbothered a few seconds ago.

Licking your lips, you play with the fabric. “That’s it. We’re done.” You turn to the RedBull driver. “Tell her.”

“Done.”

For a moment, you almost let yourself flinch from how fast and easy he’s able to say that one word. Lissie’s judgmental eyes look at you, then him, then sighs, reluctantly nodding. An awkward moment ticks by and then she’s focused, appalled.

“Are those your panties?”

“You were like a dog who couldn’t bear the idea of leaving its bone.” Everyone snickers while you throw the same peony Daniel had aimed at Pierre to shut him up. She laughs, raising her arms up in defense. “And I know—I know—I came in like a monster, warning you off of all the drivers because like it or not, they’re scumbags—”

“Ey. Watch it,” Carlos deadpans from the corner, brown eyes playfully glaring.

She shrugs. “But I no longer liked playing the role of an evil step-sister so…” Tears brim and you choke on a wet sob. “I’m just so happy that you’re happy.” A pause. “That you're both happy.”

Leaping off his thick lap, you rush over, embracing her. She laughs, returning the gesture. “I love you,” you start. I know. “And I’m so happy that you never—”

A knowing smile. “I’d do anything for you.”

Circuit de Monaco—May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)

Sneaking into his motorhome, you moan as soon as he gets his hands on your; sliding up and down your body with urgency. Heat radiates off of him and onto you. All of this— the cramped room, his lips attacking your neck—makes you dizzy. Clutching onto his sweaty hair, you arch, completely to him and for him.

“We s-shouldn’t.” You gasp. Long fingers tease your aching pussy as you whine. He instantly slaps a large hand over your mouth as he continues his movements. The stretch burns, but it's fairly familiar that you don’t even cry out, just stare back with knitted brows and an open mouth that he can’t see, but can feel expand beneath his palm.

“You’re probably right.” A steady stroke. “You should be out there.” His knuckles curl as he reaches your g-spot. “Preparing those foolish questions.” A muffled moan. “But you’re here, because you know that this excites you as much as it does me.”

Calloused pads push down before drawing figure eights deep inside. “You’ve been a bit uptight. Could it be—”

“No,” you cut him off. “Don’t even try and blame it on—”

“Fine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?”

Feeling your orgasm rolling in is one thing, but your snarkiness is another. Gritting your teeth, you force him down to kiss you, teeth and all, and then rip away with a sultry smile. “Maybe, but who cares?”

You’re not completely off. At that moment in time, neither of you cared about the consequences. It’s just that as soon as a room of watchful eyes flicker to you two, you swallow a low wince.

Grabbing your microphone, you fix your disheveled hair. Lissie’s eyes flicker between you and him, slow and scary. Like she’s reading right through you and your lies.

Beaming at the awaiting grid, you raise your chin up. “Who’s ready?”

“Finally,” Daniel yells, rolling his cuffed sleeves. “Someone with an actual story to tell.” A wide smile has never made you more nervous than at this very instant, so reasonably so, you swallow the entire glass of—

“Vodka, baby! That was my vodka—your champagne is right there.”

Blinking, you giggle, wiping your plump lips with the back of your hand. “What yours is mine, no? Isn’t that what marriage is all about?”

He chuckles. Lean arms wrap around your waist like a harness. “Keep this up and you’re not going to be able to sleep later.”

“The opposite, actually,” you state as a matter-of-fact. “Just need to get blackout drunk.”

He cocks his head to the side. “That’s not like you.” “...should have seen her! She was wasted as shit!” the Australian yelps, buzzing with excitement. You nip at the air all while he raises his voice an additional octave. “I found her there, at the bar, close to getting alcohol poisoning, but you know what they say—only drunks and children tell the truth.”

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“Oui, the beer! Fucking amazing,” Pierre declares with a mouthful.

“Say it, don’t spray it,” someone screeches, and is quickly identified to be Alex when he wipes his shimmery forehead. You laugh, taking baby sips from your drink. Shirley Temple, because contrary to belief, you weren’t a nasty drunk.

The Frenchman pouts, tapping his fingers against the brown glass. He turns to you with a sheepish grin. “I read your article.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Have to admit, it's kind of boring. It’s not your fault though. Max Verstappen's domination has made the sport sort of…” He pretends to wilt, to which you toss your head back with laughter.

“Your time will come, Pierre, your time will come.”

“Shit, shit, shit! Bathroom!” Lissie’s long legs wobble like a plate of jello as you hurry over to catch her.

“Crap—you smell like shit.”

The British girl squeals, yanking her hair, dancing from side to side. “I smoked a fat blunt, but never mind that, if I don’t find a loo in approximately five seconds, then I will smell like actual shit.”

A nose scrunch. “That’s not very lady-like.” She paces some more. “Let’s go.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the crowded room, Max watches as the two journalists slip away. He keeps a close eye for a while until a certain brunette swoops in right next to him with a loopy grin and crinkly eyes.

“You should talk to her. Seems like you really like her.”

“What? What makes you say that? What makes you think that?”

Daniel shrugs, rotating his blunt back into his mouth. “Dilation.”

The Dutchman gags. “What…like when a woman gives birth?”

A sore laugh. “As in your eyes.” Another hit. “Y’know��they just look—different. When you look at her, I mean.”

And he hopes it is not apparent that these words make him swallow. For the past year, he’s tried his best to hide his feelings for the sake of not making a fool out of himself, and later for a whole other, but…

He licks his sudden dry lips. “Hm. Doesn’t matter if my eyes fucking shine or not, she’s not my type.”

The Australian frowns. “Sucks. Lissie’s really cool.” His eyes flicker over to the RedBull driver in a nonchalant manner, but when he blinks back with rose tinted cheeks, despite not having a sip of alcohol, he chokes on his puff. “Oh shit, no…”

In a flash, Max yanks the blunt away, dipping it into an anonymous drink. “You’re right, she is so cool—”

Brown eyes narrow down in accusation, brows knitted sharply. “Right, but we’re not talking about Lissie…” A wince. “Mate, you can’t…you know you can’t.”

And just like that, Daniel notices the blown out pupils revert back to its original shape. Small and empty. “Yeah. Of course.” He plops back down onto his stiff seat, rubs his eyes, then smiles. “I know that. I-I-I was never going to—yeah.”

“He—” Daniel points over to the broad twenty-six year old who sits with a timid smile. “...didn't have a single sip of beer that night because he was too focused looking after her.” A whistle. “And if that isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.”

“Wow, congrats,” George says to your fiancé. “For not being an alcoholic, really, that's impressive.” You can hear the humor that coats his voice and you can’t help but giggle. Calloused fingers slip up to pinch your thigh as you laugh harder.

“That’s why I drank twice as much that day,” Pierre announces with a firm voice. “Because he was missing out on some fantastic beer.”

“Drunkard,” Alex whispers to Lily who stifles a snicker.

The tall Australian clicks his tongue. “So who was the wasted one who confessed their little white lies?”

Everyone’s eyes turn to face you as you burn up with mortification.

“What the fuck, I barely even drink!”

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“You.”

“Me?”

You snarl, stomping over. “She's a lightweight, dumbass. Why would you get her high? Jesus, we have a flight in eight hours.”

Daniel cackles, clapping as if delighted at the fact. “She kept insisting! I felt bad.”

An eye roll. “Douche.”

He tries to make it up to you with a drink. “Pierre says they’re good.” You eye the bottle hesitantly. He sighs. “Come on, trust me.” He eventually sneaks off for a minute, but returns with a new blunt.

“Did you pull another one out of your ass or where did you get that from?”

“Oh no. How many did you drink?”

Squinting, you motion him to take a seat. He does, but he can’t even smoke in peace now that you sway from side to side, despite being seated. “I don’t know. Too many.” He groans, large hands tugging his hair. You take a long sip, then raise your glass like some wannabe. “He told me he loves me. Tonight. Right when you left. And you know what I told him?” Another sip. “I told him I love him too.”

The Australian chuckles. “I didn’t expect you to fall for someone like him.”

“Me either. But I fell—tumbled.” You frown. “I’m just not sure this is the right thing to feel, y’know?”

His orbs flicker to the twenty-six year old who huddles with a bunch of the other drivers. He smiles, tilting his head. “Why not?”

“Because everytime I look at him, I fear the way my heart beats. He laughs, I laugh, and it feels wrong. He smiles, I smile, and it feels wrong. He makes one of our inside jokes, I understand, and it feels wrong.” A shaky laugh. “And something that should feel fucking right, doesn’t.” Glossy eyes switch over to him. “Does that make sense?”

“Not really.”

“Great,” you let out, wiping your tears away. “It’s fine, I didn’t expect you to understand.”

Daniel smiles, fondly, like an older brother. “It doesn’t, and you want to know why?”

“Why?”

A second passes by before he leans back against his chair. “Because it looks like you really—really—like him, so why should any of that matter? Just let yourself be happy, fuck everything else.”

You scoff, furrowing your brows. “You’re a bad influence.”

“Why?”

“Because it would never work out.”

“And why not? You’re giving up too eas—oh.” Almost robotically, he drops his blunt into your beer bottle. “You can’t…”

“Yeah. I know.” A pause. “Beer’s ass, by the way.”

Daniel taps his fingers against his chin, comedically. His orbs flicker between you two who stare up at him in deep focus, awaiting for his next words. He grins. “You two, it works. It always has.”

Circuit Zandvoort—August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)

“Oh fuck,” he grunts, thrusting into you harder as you cling onto his arm, eyes screwed shut. “H-holy fucking—hell.”

You moan, mouth hung wide open. “Feel so good, Maxie, so, so good.”

Blue eyes admire the way you arch towards him like some sort of warm invitation. The way your legs lazily drape over his sweaty waist, how your scent hugs him like no one else. It’s all so familiar, and nice, and right. Your soft palm grazing his jaw makes him alert in an instant, desperate to not miss a single thing that lives inside this moment.

He furrows his dark brows. “We-We’re not made for one another.”

“I know.” He grunts, animalistically. “They warned me about you.”

“They told me to stay away from you.” His tip brushes against your g-spot and your head lolls back, a loud sound. “But God, it’s been impossible.”

“Max, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—I’m close.”

He grins, rubs your clit, and whimpers when he feels you reach your orgasm. You shudder when he follows soon after, face digging into the nape of your neck. Your heart pounds like a ticking time bomb, but still, you run your fingers through his dirty blond waves.

“Lissie…Daniel…they’re—”

“Right?” You choke up. “Yeah, you don’t know how much I hate that they are.”

He pulls away, and somehow, his watercolor eyes appear more blue than ever before. Black, almost—nearly. And you’re sure yours do too.

Max plays with your hair, tracing it like a map. He gulps. “So do I.” A tug. “I love you. Y-you weren’t some fuck buddy to me…you’ve always been more than that. And…I hate that too.”

A wet laugh. “I love you, too.” Wobbly smile. “And it’s because I love you that I know what comes after this.”

He hums. “What would that be?”

“Nothing.”

“I know many of you guys are wondering why I’m best man—”

“Not wondering, more like questioning,” Carlos quips with a sly smirk.

Pierre flips him off and you laugh at the immature interaction between the drivers. “Because it really could have easily been anyone else. Ha! Even you Carlos.” The Spaniard mocks him with a shady, playful, look.

“Then again, who would have thrown a better rehearsal dinner for Charles and his bride-to-be?”

Circuit Zandvoort—September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)

"You got on Max Verstappen’s bad side, that’s what."

“It’s probably nothing or he’s just a sensitive little pussy,” you shoot back defensively.

Lissie snickers, hushing you, orbs scanning the pen. “You can’t say shit like that! Any of it, actually,” she adds. “Just…think before saying anything.”

You huff, arms crossed, stubbornly. “Fine.”

As the open area starts filling up more and more, by some miracle, your nerves start dying down.

Or so you thought.

“Before I let you go, I do have one more question.” Charles smiles down at you, shy dimples poking through. You return the gesture. “Would you consider yourself Ferrari’s savior or their scapegoat?”

“Jesus,” the British girl groans, covering her eyes with second-hand embarrassment.

The Monegasque lets out a nervous laugh, turning to face his publicist who simply tippy toes and whispers something into his ear. He nods. “I-I-I actually have another interview set up, but thank you for your…questions.” Pink tints his ears as he looks at you one more time before strolling away.

“Alrighty then,” Lissie hollers. She sneaks the microphone away. “Jitters, totally normal, but yeah, you’re done for today.”

“I don’t care if she’s royalty, I’m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.”

“Would you look at that?” Pierre gloats with a wicked grin. “Max Verstappen got butthurt.”

The Dutchman scoffs. “No, I did not. I just don’t like stupid questions, and she made one.”

Yuki snickers at his wary response. Pierre rolls his eyes. “I could talk to her, if you want me to. I love shit like this.”

“I don’t.”

“Well too bad, I’m going to.”

“Yeah. You already said that.”

Dumbfounded, you blink as he walks away, wet towel draped over his head. If you had known he was this much of a shithead, then you wouldn’t have bothered to try and apologize. Clicking your tongue, you burn with fury as you glare, but as soon as the Ferrari driver brushes past you, you fall back from your trance.

“Hey!”

He turns, green eyes furrowed with confusion. “Hey.”

A wince. “I’m sorry about my ignorant question from earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Charles blushes. “Am I that easy to read?”

“No, but Pierre let me know.” You awkwardly kick your shoe against the pavement and his eyes follow. You stop. “I sort of pissed off two of the most important drivers on the grid today. You, uh, just happen to be one of them.”

He softens like ice cream on a hot summer day. “I’m not pissed.” You almost let out a giggle from how foreign his accent makes the curse sound. He stammers. “You just caught me off guard, that’s all. Plus, I can’t answer questions like those. It would make all of us look bad.”

“Oh. Duh. Of course.” Now you burn up. “I should have known. And it’s no excuse, but I’m new and I’m just…figuring it out.”

His eyes crinkle as he nods. “Who was the other driver?”

You groan. “Max.”

He winces, shaking his hands, theatrically. “Yikes. Yeah, now he’s probably pissed.”

Autodromo Nazionale Monza—September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)

“Will you ever let it go?”

“Might take me a while…”

As soon as your phone dings, vibrating against your palm, he curls a brow. “L-Lissie,” you fill in with a subtle smile. “See you around. And put on some sunscreen. It’s good for you.”

Rushing back to the pool with a new bottle of SPF, you grin as he aims a deadpan expression. “A little Vitamin D is always necessary.”

“Don’t care, I don’t want to look like a peanut in two years.” You plop some onto his hand as he childishly swipes it over his face. You squirm with the way droplets slither down his toned chest.

Charles extends his hands. “Can I have some more?”

You laugh, wet hair tossing back like a curtain. “Hypocrite.”

Green eyes glare down, playfully.

Marina Bay Street Circuit—October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)

“I can’t believe someone’s rocking your boat,” Lissie yelps, clutching onto your hand desperately. “This is monumental.” A teasing giggle. “We should definitely document this.”

As soon as she pulls out her phone, you flip her off. “And this, my dear, dear friend, is why I’ve been keeping this a secret.” She zooms in as you laugh, brushing her away. “Quit!”

The British girl groans, slipping it into her back pocket, then wiggles her thick brows. “Can I guess who it is?”

“No.”

“It’ll be fun!”

You spin around. “No, Lissie—no.”

“Nepo-Baby?”

Flustered, you twirl your necklace and hum. “They all are.”

“Fucking hell. So how will I know which one?”

A mocking laugh. “Oh, you’ll know.”

The brunette stays wondering despite being in the middle of telling her story from last week at the pub. She traces back to every possible driver, but they’re all natural flirts, so fuck that, how would she ever even be able to guess that—

“Oh my—it’s him!” She gasps with hawk eyes as she watches you two keep a careful distance from one another, as if temptation burns within the gap. Lissie lets out a delirious laugh as she turns to Will, who is still rather focused on his task. “I, um, will be right back!”

Wearing a goofy smile, you make your way back to the pen, but squeal when a firm grip wraps around your waist, tugging you into a cramped bathroom. You cringe at the suffocated smell. On the other hand, Lissie jumps from corner to corner. “How did I not notice? I mean, shit, you’re eyes—they’re huge!”

You frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

With a toothy grin, she pokes your ribs. “It means I know who it is.”

Your heart stops, then bite the inside of your cheek, feigning indifference. “We’re just getting to know each other, but he’s really kind, and I…I really like him.”

“Oh, I bet you do,” she whispers in a seductive manner, jeweled hands slapping your ass. You chuckle, opening the door, and turning back. “You get lost in his eyes, don’t you? Heard that could happen.” A swoon. “So what? Are they like the ocean? Like a blueberry Laffy Taffy?”

“Hm. No. More like green apple.”

She halts, mid-shimmy. “What do you mean green? His eyes are blue. And I would know—they scare me half of the time.”

“What are you talking about? Charles’ eyes are green.” The brunette gapes, mouth hung wide open as she pushes herself to speak, but can’t find the strength. You knit your brows, neat and high. “I told you not to scroll through your phone at three a.m. anymore. See? Jet lag is catching up to you.”

Autódromo José Carlos Pace—November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Tired eyes squint over at the blue waves, then at the kids who build sandcastles.

She sighs, propping herself to face you with a sorrowful smile. “It’s okay to be confused about your feelings.”

“You don’t have to sugarcoat it, I know its as bad as it sounds.” You raise your straw onto your plump lips, sucking. “But they’re just so different from one another. I mean, Charles makes me feel giddy. Like really giddy. It’s nauseating. He’s sweet, and caring, and he's snappy but it’s endearing.” A soft smile and dreamy eyes. “He even helps with my notes.”

“But Max…he’s hot tempered. It drives me nuts. He never asks for help and always hides behind some brick wall. It isn’t like him to show me that he’s interested in getting to know me, but…” Cries ring through the hot air as a wave washes the sandcastle. “I want to get to know him. The real him.”

Lissie’s lips turn downwards at your broken tone. You act uninterested, but she knows it just for show, and that might be the worst torture of all.

She bumps your head with her shoulder, softly, and you instantly pout. “You’ll know what to do, babe. But if we’re being realistic here, Charles won’t wait forever.” Pause. “And Max isn’t the kind to grovel for anything other than podiums.”

Bahrain International Circuit—March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)

“Heads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.”

Charles lets out a heavy sigh, shoulders drooping as he strolls away. You pick and choose emails to respond to before leaning against one leg, typing away fiercely. You even have time to get back to your sister who begs for a souvenir. Any, she adds with a thousand smiley faces.

“Working hard already? The season’s barely begun.” Your breath catches so sharply that it hurts your throat for a second. His voice is somehow deeper, but it could be because you haven’t seen or heard from him in about forever. Max steps closer. “H-how was your summer break?”

Your berry lips open, then close, then repeat. It’s embarrassing. “Never bad to get ahead, and I—had a good one. Much needed.” He nods attentively. “You look—” You stop before admitting. “Healthy. You look really healthy”

A booming chuckle. “Thanks. You look really healthy, too.”

Blue eyes linger for a second too long and that fills you up with unwanted adrenaline. “Why are you here?” Pink expands through your cheekbones as you grimace. “I mean—here.” You point at the tiny tent as if it weren’t obvious what you were referring to. “Here, here.”

The Dutchman’s lips dance, fondly. “Well I was walking by, saw you, and wanted to say hi.” He looks around with a subtle frown. “Is now a bad time?”

“Well—”

“Mate,” a sweet accent rings through the air as you screw your eyes shut. Max turns to face Charles with a slow grin. The Monegasque tilts his head in greeting, hands occupied with your beverage and his. “How have you been?”

“So, so. Yourself?”

“Good. Refreshed.”

“For me?” he jokes. The brunette chuckles, raising the coffee cups with bright orbs. “Lazy Carlos, always sending you, right?”

The Ferrari driver shakes his head, curls following, then hands it to you. You hesitantly take it from him as you avoid eye contact. “Thank you, Charles.”

His smile widens, pecking your lips. “Still don’t think you should drink it on a daily basis, but hey, you’re welcome.”

Max blinks. “W-when did this happen?”

The green eyed boy hums, lips twisting against his straw. “Over break.”

“Oh.” Gaze slips over to where you bite your cheek. “You spent it in Monaco?”

A harsh tick. “Yes.” With an open mouth, he nods, like a muppet. You purse your lips, facing your boyfriend with pleading eyes. “Do you want to start making your way over? I don’t want Carlos to say anything about being late. You know how he is.”

Charles snickers, then intertwines his fingers through yours. “See you on track?”

The RedBull driver released a low breath, cracking a smile that looked more like a snarl. And while Charles doesn’t notice it, you do. Of course you do.

“See you on track.”

Miami International Autodrome—May 7, 2023

“Then why did you do it?” she whispers. The judgment and confusion that radiates off of Lissie is enough for you to grow gray. She rolls her tongue. “You can’t be doing stuff like this anymore, you have a boyfriend.” Her eyes screw shut, then snap open. “He adores the ground you walk on, are you insane?”

Tears well up at her truthful words. They sting all at once, and you carelessly crumble as your numb lips start to wobble. “Lissie—”

“No. Just—stop. Stop talking.” Max raises his eyebrows at the journalist and her sternness, but feels bad as you inch back, heels clicking. She huffs, pacing the hall. When she comes to a stop, she glares at the Dutchman. “How could you do this, too?”

“I never meant any harm—”

“Bullshit! Both of you are so stupid, it’s worrisome.” Shame fills your veins as you look down, pinching your undergarment as some coping mechanism. The British girl sighs. “You have to tell him.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? He deserves to know.”

Decreasing the gap between you two, you sniffle, shaky hands clutching harder. “It’s going to kill him, Lissie. I can’t do that.”

And you can tell she’s running through her options because she’s your best friend. And above all, you were hers. With hesitance, she nods. “This has to end.”

You nod, desperately. “That’s it. We’re done.”

Circuit de Monaco—May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)

“You’ve been a bit uptight. Could it be Charles that’s making you feel that way?”

“No. Don’t even try and blame it on him.”

He pinches your nipple, then licks your humid skin. You whine at the sensation. “You’re not getting anything in return for lying. It’s pathetic.”

You hiss when your climax tempts to fall. “What's the lie?”

“That you love him.”

“I do love him—”

He groans into your neck. “You sound so pretty.” A sloppy thrust. “When you choke around my cock, my spit, my cum.” Your eyes roll back when he pushes against your g-spot at a different angle. “Admit it, you’ve always enjoyed it.”

“You’re sick."

“Maybe, but you’re well worth it.”

You clench around his length and he hisses like a snake. In pain. In lust. Doesn’t matter. “You’re a shitty friend—”

Jaw clenches. “You’re a shitty girlfriend.” When you cry out in pleasure, he smirks. “Fine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?”

“Maybe, but who cares?”

And there's nothing left for him to do, simply smiling down at you like the Cheshire Cat, somehow scarier than The Joker. If not more.

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“Right, but we’re not talking about Lissie. Mate, you can’t…you know you can’t.” Daniel grimaces. “She’s taken.”

“I know,” Max stutters. “Who do you take me for?”

The Australian is easy to tell when he laughs genuinely, but even the RedBull driver can spot the difference to the one exiting his mouth right now. “You think she’s pretty—that’s all.”

“That’s all,” he confirms.

“And that’s not a weird thing to admit because she is a pretty girl,” the brunette tries to help as Max nods happily.

“Exactly.” A pause. “You get it.”

Daniel brings the blunt up to his mouth, taking a hit, then blows out. “Y-yeah…because it’d be bad if you liked her, liked her.”

“I know that. I-I-I was never going to—yeah.” His heart pounds fast against his ribs when you giggle, pecking Charles’s neck, all while conversing with Lissie, Kika, and Pierre. He directs his attention back to the Australian and lets out a raw laugh.

“I wouldn’t be that stupid.”

“You’re a bad influence.”

“Why?”

“Because it would never work out.”

“And why not? You’re giving up too eas—oh.” In an instant, his brown eyes follow yours, and it makes his heart drop. Because it’s not Charles that you’ve suddenly realized that you love, but Max. “You can’t…” Somewhere close by, Pierre yells, cheering with a group of older ladies as Kika glares, shaking her head. He inches closer. “You can’t do that to Charles. He loves you.”

“And I love him,” you announce, brushing your hair back. Timidly, you peek over at him. “I’m not a saint, I know that, but I would appreciate it if we kept this between us.” A sore chuckle. “W-what matters is that I choose Charles. He’s the love of my life.”

And Daniel knows he probably shouldn’t agree to any of this, and yet, he finds himself nodding, curls bouncing. “Just between us.”

You smile gently, going in for another sip before laughing at the blunt that sticks inside.

“Beer’s ass, by the way.”

Circuit Zandvoort—August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)

“I love you. Y-you weren’t some fuck buddy to me…you’ve always been more than that. And…I hate that too.”

“I love you, too. And it’s because I love you that I know what comes after this.”

“What would that be?”

“Nothing.”

He flinches. “I-it doesn’t have to be that way. You could lea—”

You sigh, pulling your dress up as he zip his race suit. “I can’t leave him, Max. It’s not that easy.”

He pants, blue eyes tracing your face anxiously. “A-and why not? Why can’t it be that easy?”

A cruel laugh wiggles up your throat as you dig your nails into your palm. “Because I’m engaged!”

He ricochets with a scoff. “Oh, what? Now you suddenly care about not being called a cheater?” You look away and he chuckles. “Because that’s what you are—a fucking cheater.”

Your face patches into a shade of pink as you breathe heavily, refusing to let the tears fall. “And what does that make you?”

“I am not a cheater.”

You snarl. “No, but you’re a God awful friend.”

He steps back, large hand running against his lips, drying them out, getting rid of your saliva. “You’re just—you know what? Fuck you.”

You gasp. “No. Fuck you.”

Max rolls his blue eyes, finally reaching his breaking point as he pushes you against the wall to his motorhome. “You’re scared, aren’t you? Of realizing what we actually are.”

Heavy pants. Orbs flicker down to his rosy lips. He almost smiles. “What are we? A cheater and a bad friend?”

“No. A villain and their accomplice.” That seems to do it. A strong tide takes over as you sob against his grip. And it doesn’t hurt, it’s not tight. It’s only secure. He continues with a dark look swirling his orbs. “You know, you were always the first one to point out someone as a bad person, when in reality, it's you.”

“Okay, stop—”

“And I’m not innocent either—I’m well aware—but I’m not the one with a ring around their finger.”

“Stop!” you yell, pushing him away harshly. It should feel foreign, the fury and the shame, but that’s all you seem to know these days. Or ever since you met him. “You’re right. We’re two rotten apples, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, but can you blame me? You’re fucking with my head, Max!”

He softens, and for a moment, its pure silence, other than your tiny cries. Licking his lips, he pats his thigh. “You already know I’m wrongfully in love with you. I just actually thought I stood a chance. That it would be me.”

“Max…”

He winces in pain with how sweet your voice sounds pronouncing his name. It’s always been that way. When you first interviewed him a year ago, to when you first kissed him back and gasped his name. But it only got dirtier and dirtier throughout the course of time.

“Be honest with me, please.” Bloodshot eyes look up at him. “Is he your safest option? Is that what this is?”

And with one final, tormented look, you open your lips to breathe out.

“He’s someone I could envision a future with, Max.” A beat. “And you’re just a footnote.”

“Voilá!” Charles cheers as he claps loudly against your ear. You yelp at the sudden sound all while trying to reach for his hands to stop his movements. He grins, deep dimples imprinting like feet on sand. “That was beautiful, really, it really was.”

Rubbing your ass against his bulge is the only way you think you can get him to shut up, and he does, immediately letting out a strained chuckle. Smiling sweetly at your friends, you shrug. “I had my doubts, Pierre, but this was pretty cute. Thank you.”

The Frenchman gloats, clicking his fingers. I told you, I told you they’d like it! Your fiancé kisses your cheek. “That’s why I chose him.” A playful frown. “You see, mon amour? You never hold any faith in my decisions.”

Rolling your eyes, you stick your pink tongue out at him. “I still think you should have chosen one of your brothers.” A stern look. “Like Lorenzo—wasn’t he the one that helped you buy the ring?”

“Yes, but that would have been unfair to Arthur. He would’ve felt left out.”

“Arthur’s too distracted trying to figure out the difference between left and right!” The Monegasque tosses his head back and you admire with a soft glow. “I lo—”

“Wait,” Carlos hollers, deep accent ringing. You and Charles turn, bubble bursting. “We all went around sharing but Max.”

“Yeah,” Lily ponders, fingers tracing her lips. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Pierre hums. “Mate?”

Max blinks, shaking his head. “Ah, it’s alright. We’ve heard enough, don’t you think?” His joke is meant to be easy going, but it comes out dry, and even to this day, you can notice it. Licking your already glossed lips, you flip your gaze to Lissie and Daniel who share the same worried expression.

Because Lissie was your best friend. She would carry your secret to the grave.

Because Daniel was Max’s best friend. He would carry his secret to the grave.

But the Dutchman himself didn't care. He honestly felt like he had nothing else to lose.

“Okay then,” he whispers, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans. He slightly tilts his head to the open sky, as if wondering when it would swallow him whole. He was secretly hoping it would. Beady, excited, and petrified eyes stare back at him as he smiles awkwardly. “I…”

“He doesn’t want to,” you declare, twisting to signal the Frenchman. “If he doesn’t want to, then he doesn’t have to say anything, it’s fine.”

“No.” Blue eyes darken as he places his drink down onto the wooden table. “I want y—” He bites his tongue, immediately tasting metallic. “I want to.”

“Let him,” Charles says, chuckling softly. “Don’t kill his stride.”

So, with neat brows drawn together, clammy fingers playing with your silver band, you sit back down. Like a force of nature, the Monegasque hugs you from behind. You gulp, leaning the back of your head against his shoulder.

“I think it’s crazy how one minor decision can change absolutely fucking everything.”

“Oh shit,” Lissie and Daniel mutter next to each other, exchanging the blunt back and forth.

Your face twists up like a wrinkled shirt. “If you’re not going to say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” he instantly shoots back, but feverishly deflates when Charles furrows his dark brows like some Doberman. Astonished at his cold tone, you blink, lashes fluttering like a notebook. He almost swoons at the sight, but amazingly holds back.

“If you hadn’t taken Pierre’s advice and apologized to Charles, then we wouldn't be here. If you hadn’t spent summer break with him, then we wouldn’t be here. If you hadn't fallen in love, then we wouldn’t be here.” He swallows. “It’s the little things.”

“And, um...what makes a relationship work out is the commitment. If one person commits and the other doesn’t then it won’t ever work out, but you two…” You nibble on your bottom lip harshly, holding your breath as he looks into your bright eyes. He releases a forced chuckle, as if it would help get rid of his splintered heart. “You two chose each other, so…cheers to that.”

“Wow,” Charles hums, blankly. “That was surprisingly heartfelt…” A sheepish grin. “Thank you, mate.”

It’s as if he’s suddenly admitting defeat to someone who didn’t know they had him as an opponent to begin with; the way he throws the peony at the Monegasque, who catches it with ease. “Don’t mention it.”

So, as Max sits alone, with no date, he begins to wonder that maybe—just maybe—you were right all along.

He gave his speech last.

He was the footnote.

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

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milkloafy · 6 months ago

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I COULD BE YOUR CRUSH — WRIOTHESLEY

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: you gush about your crush to neuvillette over some tea, and your crush unexpectedly joins the tea party and overhears you talking about him. ⋆｡˚ ❀ contents: fluff, fem!reader (use of princess as a petname), sassy neuvi, mentions of ayato ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.2k+ ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: alexa play crush by tessa violet,, LOL i was thinking so hard about the song title then i was like okay yeah these lyrics work ;-; titles are so hard.. anywayyy PLS ENJOY SOME WRIO FLUFF FOR THE SOUL !!

“You just don’t understand, Neuvillette,” you sighed dramatically, stabbing your fork into the delicate cake in front of you. “He’s totally swoon-worthy.”

Neuvillette took a sip of his tea before carefully placing the cup back on its saucer. For a while, he continued to stay silent, as if considering his words.

Once he finally opened his mouth, the only question that came out was a calm, “How so?”

It didn’t take long for a million reasons to pop into your head.

“Well…have you seen his arms?” you gushed. “Is that not enough of a reason in itself?”

Neuvillette scoffed, a smile of amusement playing on his lips.

“That’s not all, of course,” you clarified, grabbing a throw pillow from the sofa next to you and hugging it close to your chest. “He’s also caring and kind and treats everyone with respect, no matter who they are.”

Neuvillette’s gaze flickered briefly to the door behind you, but you paid it no mind.

“Not to mention how he looks when he gets all serious. Neuvillette, have you ever seen him talk about a prisoner he had to punish? It’s so…” You hid your face behind the pillow, cheeks flaming at the thought.

Before you had a chance to collect yourself, you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You immediately stilled in your seat, slowly bringing the pillow back down to your lap.

“Sorry I’m late. Who are we talking about?”

Neuvillette smiled, ignoring your frantic look directed right at him. “Wriothesley, welcome. You are not too late. Please, take a seat.”

Wriothesley slipped onto the sofa, taking a seat next to you. Neuvillette poured him a cup of tea that he graciously accepted. Looking over at you, Wriothesley brought the drink up to his face and asked, “Care to tell me who you were speaking of before I arrived? It sounded like you were singing their praises.”

You fiddled with the the hem of your silk pajamas— Neuvillette failed to inform you beforehand that a certain someone would be joining the tea party, so you appeared in your regular sleep clothes. You racked your brain trying to come up with a response.

“Oh, you know… Kamisato Ayato,” you managed, vaguely remembering how you saw his name and face on the cover of The Steambird recently. “The head of the Kamisato clan is such a…dashing and strong leader. I think.”

“I didn’t realize you were close to Kamisato,” commented Wriothesley, sitting with one leg loosely draped over the other as he leaned back against the sofa.

“Oh,” you shook your head, “no. No, I’ve never even met him.”

Wriothesley raised a singular eyebrow in question. “Your words earlier seemed so strong for something directed at a man you have never met.”

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant even though your heart threatened to beat our of your chest. “You know how enamored a crush can make someone.”

“I do,” Wriothesley agreed, his gaze locked onto yours so intensely that you almost had to blink.

“I’m sure you do,” remarked Neuvillette, still sipping his tea.

You and Wriothesley both looked over at him.

Neuvillette blinked. “Did you forget I was here? This is my office, is it not?” When no one responded, he sighed. “Well, I finished the last of my tea and I have some work to wrap up. Feel free to stay as long as you need.”

Neuvillette made his way back to his desk and Wriothesley refocused his attention towards you.

“So. Kamisato Ayato,” he brought the clan leader up once more.

You choked out a laugh of exasperation. “Are we still on this? Just let me have my silly little crush on someone across the world who doesn’t even know I exist.”

Tapping his fingers against the teacup, Wriothesley huffed. You realized he looked almost annoyed and frustrated.

Just as you were about to ask him what was wrong, Wriothesley opened his mouth and said, “Would it be overbearing of me to say I wish you had said a different name when I asked who you were gushing over?”

A strange mixture of curiosity and hope filled your chest.

Curiosity as to who he thought you were talking about. Hope that maybe he thought it might’ve been him.

“You could never be overbearing,” you assured, grabbing a small biscuit from the table and softening it up in your warm tea. “Would it be nosy of me to ask who you wished I was gushing over?”

Wriothesley grinned. “You are certainly nosy. But it’s one of the things I like about you.”

You laughed, wiping a crumb off your lip with a napkin. “Does that mean you won’t tell me?”

“Perhaps another day.”

In the distance, you heard Neuvillette clear his throat loudly. You looked over and saw him glaring straight at Wriothesley. They stayed like that for a while, having a silent conversation with their eyes. Whatever it was, it seemed intense. You were quite glad that glare wasn’t directed at you.

“I believe Wriothesley would like to share that information with you now,” Neuvillette announced after Wriothesley looked away with a sigh.

“Does he?”

“I do,” Wriothesley confirmed, the slightest bit begrudgingly. “Me.”

You waited for him to say more, but he didn’t elaborate.

You blinked. “What about you?”

“Are you going to make me say it?” Wriothesley let out a strangled laugh, grabbing a biscuit to munch on himself. “When I overheard you and Neuvillette talking about your crush, I was hoping it was about me.”

You blinked. “Why about you?”

Neuvillette made a strange noise as a book fell off his desk. He cleared his throat. “Pardon me.”

You barely had time to wonder if he was okay before Wriothesley finally responded.

“You really don’t make things easy for me, isn’t that right, princess?” Wriothesley said with a helpless smile. “I hoped you were saying such sweet things about me, since I would say equally sweet things about you.”

With your stomach turning at both the pet name and his admission, you managed to say, “And if I were to tell you it really was about you?”

“That would make me a very happy man,” he said, unable to contain his delight. “Who wouldn’t be happy to hear the most beautiful and caring person they know is interested in them as well?”

You heard Neuvillette tap his foot impatiently in the background, but you ignored him. You and Wriothesley were having a moment here.

“So, you’re saying you like me, too?” you asked, not wanting there to be any chance of a misunderstanding. The two of you made it this far, you couldn’t let it fall apart now.

“I like you very much,” said Wriothesley with a nod. “And I have something to take care of at the Fortress this week, but when we both have time next week, perhaps we can celebrate with a dinner. Without Neuvillette there.”

“Please, without me there,” Neuvillette chimed in, his arms folded as he sat in his chair.

You laughed, standing up and brushing the imaginary dust off your pajamas. “All right, I can take a hint, Neuvillette. I’ll help you clean up before I go. And Wriothesley…”

“Hmm?”

You met his gaze and the corners of his eyes crinkled. You fought off a giggle as you returned Wriothesley’s smile, an overwhelming feeling of happiness filling you. “It’s a date.”

#wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #wriothesley fluff #genshin x you #genshin impact #wriothesley

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starmapz · 29 days ago

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what you know - ch3: grade a(sshole) || r. sukuna

❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [ongoing series]

❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞

❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. implied injury. family trauma. smut. slow burn. anxiety. tags will be updated as series continues.

❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.

❦ words ; 12.1k.

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

The sounds of metal clanging and engines revving are somehow more grating than usual as Sukuna hangs the phone back on the wall. His head rests against the smooth surface beside the phone and he lets out a deep sigh, thankful you can’t see the frustration strewn across his face. Of fucking course Uraume’s in class right now and really, why had he ever expected his uncle to pick up? If he were good for anything, Sukuna wouldn’t be a parent to his siblings while in college.

“Ryomen! I need a hand!”

He rolls his shoulders in an effort to relieve the tension in his body from having no other choice but to call you, the source of all of his problems as of late, before pushing off the wall. He doesn’t say a word as he makes his way to his colleague, ignoring the man’s questioning. Just like everyone else in his life, his colleague doesn’t need to know anything about him.

The day drags on for Sukuna. He’s sluggish and worn out, covered in a sheen of sweat and grease and he can feel the oil he accidentally combed through his hair without thinking while speaking on the phone with you.

And then there’s you. Why the fuck won’t you leave his head? Why the fuck did he have to loosen and re-tighten the bolts on a set of tires because the thought of you had distracted him so much he’d tightened them a few too many times? Why had he done it on multiple tires?

As the day wraps up and he leaves the shop, the cool night air is welcome on his skin. He lets out a sigh as he begins to walk home, running a hand through his tousled hair once again. The feeling of oil coating his bare hand leaves him with a scowl and he wipes it on his coveralls, but they have enough grease on them that it hardly helps. His lip curls in disgust as he shoves his hands into his pockets, staring at the sidewalk as he makes his way back to his apartment.

The walk is too short to deliberate what the hell he’s even gonna say to you when he knows for a fact he owes you. Again. Yet that’s hardly the issue, when he knows he hurt you when he saw you last and now here he is asking for a favor. Fuck, how it pisses him off.

His hand pauses over his front door before he knows it, letting out a sigh as he unlocks the door and pushes through. He’s met immediately with the sight of you, dressed in a skirt and a beige knit sweater sitting on the couch. He goes to drop his keys on the table beside the door but pauses before they can clatter on the wood as he realizes Choso is sound asleep on top of you.

He sucks in a sharp breath, meeting your gaze. The world seems to hold its breath as you both stare at one another, completely silent.

“Hey,” your voice is smaller than you intended as you decide to break the tense silence. Sukuna’s piercing gaze flickers between you and Choso before he finally shuts the door behind him, his expression unreadable.

“They fell asleep?” He grunts.

Grimacing as he blatantly ignores your greeting, you nod. “Yeah. Choso wanted one more movie, but-” you pause, casting a glance at the young boy. “He didn’t make it long.”

Sukuna takes a step forward to look at the TV, quietly playing The Iron Giant. “That’s his favorite.”

You nod slowly, but your eyes never once leave Sukuna. He looks tired as ever again, like he hasn’t had a break in a long time, but you know better than to offer help now. That, and the way he hurt you still hangs over your head even if you aren’t upset with him.

“He really likes sad movies,” you comment in an effort to cut through the tension in the air, but it hardly helps, enveloping you in its grasp once more.

A puff of air leaves Sukuna’s nose in an acknowledging laugh. “You watched The Land Before Time didn’t ya?” There’s a hint of a smile on his face that you mirror back at him despite the lingering unease.

“And Pokemon.”

Sukuna’s brow raises as he nods. “Yeah. Dunno why, he’s always liked those three.”

In an attempt to lighten the mood, you offer a teasing smirk. “Maybe he takes after you. These are all your movies, aren’t they?”

Sukuna looks between the TV and you again, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. Staring down at his hand that he forgot was covered in oil, he huffs at the realization that it’s now on his face. “They were,” he mindlessly answers, turning back towards you. He gently sets his keys on the table, noting the fact that you have a little smirk and are very obviously staring where he just wiped his hand. Yeah, he has oil on his forehead. “D’ya mind staying while I shower? I’ll be ten minutes. I’ll carry Cho to his room after.”

“That’s fine, you could use a showe-”

“Shut- your mouth, Prom Queen,” he quietly hisses, his tone lacking the aggravation of someone truly frustrated.

You shoot him a small smile, laughing quietly as a semblance of normalcy finally returns. When he kicks off his shoes and pads quietly further into the apartment, disappearing into the washroom, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

It’s not like you weren’t expecting this to be uncomfortable, but you’d expected Sukuna to be as brash and vexing as usual, not whatever this is. The palpable tension, the somber silence and the complete and utter lack of frustration from Sukuna- it’s like you’re treading through a potential minefield, yet now you have no clue what could set him off this time. Do you even owe him that given how he snapped at you when you last saw him?

Throwing your head against the back of the couch, you sigh, deciding to give your attention back to the movie to force yourself not to get overwhelmed by your own overthinking. Choso shuffles in your arms, snoring softly as his hair falls over his face.

The sounds of doors opening and closing only a few minutes later makes your heart speed up when Sukuna emerges after a moment, dressed in a tight black tank top that hardly leaves anything to the imagination and gray sweatpants. You blink a few times as you make a conscious effort not to stare at his abs but god is it hard.

It’s almost like your mind forgets that you’re upset with him because he’s just that attractive, and that only makes your cheeks heat up because, come on. You’re better than this. Swallowing, you force yourself not to look at his bulging biceps or the veins in his forearms or the obvious six pack that the tank top doesn’t hide one bit. Why is it so tight anyway? Is he showing off?

But Sukuna hardly seems to notice your turmoil, his usual frown plastered on his face as he runs a hand through his hair, now oil-free. He closes the distance between you as he crosses the living room in two easy strides, standing tall in front of you.

“How’s Yuji?” He asks, clearing his throat.

“He’s been asleep most of the day but he didn’t throw up after I got here. He had a couple of spoonfuls of soup but he’s not hungry.”

He nods. “Good. I think.” Tense silence settles between you and you have to avert your gaze as you grow uncomfortable. “I’ll take Cho to his bed,” Sukuna mumbles, effortlessly lifting the young boy into his arms. Choso doesn’t so much as shuffle as Sukuna carries him to his and Yuji’s room. Fiddling with your neatly manicured nails, you stare in the direction Sukuna left. He’s back in only a few moments, looking relieved as ever that the day is over.

“Um, are you o-” you begin, realizing too late that both you and Sukuna have begun talking at the same time.

“You can go home.”

You stare at one another with wide eyes as you both speak over one another. Laughing uncomfortably, you chew on your lip. “You don’t want to talk about…?”

Sukuna’s brow furrows. There’s his irritation. Of course he would think the best thing to do is avoid the subject entirely.

“What do you want to talk about?” He asks in an impatient tone as he crosses his arms over his chest.

Your lips part as you search for words, treading carefully now that you have Sukuna’s attention. “You were a dick,” you offer as a starter, knowing that of all of the things you could say, this wouldn’t actually bother him that much.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Sukuna mutters with a roll of his eyes.

“You’re still being a dick.”

He pauses this time, narrowed eyes observing the way you’re fiddling with your nails and chewing on your lip. He sighs, shutting his eyes for a moment. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’m an asshole,” he agrees. “I-” he pauses, rubbing his fingers over his eyes in exasperation. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, somewhat muffled as he rubs his hand over his face.

Your eyes widen, blinking once, twice, three times at him. In your experience with him, he usually avoided apologies and thanks, as though they taste bitter on his tongue. Even now, he seems to be avoiding the subject as best as he can, muttering it behind his hand like the weight of the word is too much to bear.

“I didn’t get everything handed to me on a silver platter, you know.”

Sukuna stares out the window across the apartment. “Didn’t think ya did.”

“Then why did you say it?” You ask, tilting your head.

“‘Cause I was pissed, okay? I apologized already,” he grumbles, wanting to be done with this conversation. Everything about it makes his skin crawl between the way your brows are knit together and the hurt that glimmers in your eyes to the way you look so small and uncertain in front of him. God, the way his throat tightened when he saw his little brother asleep on top of you too, his hair stood on end in discomfort at the feeling.

He doesn’t know what to make of you and he hates that he pushed you away only to need you. To need your help. To embarrassingly need to call you three times and grovel for you to look after his brothers that only you know about because you just keep slithering your way into his life. He wants to blame it so badly on you being a pain in the ass, but you’re not. You’re kind. You’re kind and thoughtful and you’re only here because you’re a good person.

You’re still here even after he treated you as though you were replaceable, because you’re a better person than he could ever be.

Sukuna sighs loudly in exasperation, rubbing his temples. “Just… fuckin’ ignore me, okay? I was just taking shit out on you.”

“Like a dick.”

Sukuna lowers his hand from his face, staring at you with narrowed eyes. “Do you just really want me to say I was a dick?”

You tilt your head with a saccharine sweet smile. “Mhmm.”

“Does it really make that much of a fuckin’ difference?”

“I want to hear you say it.” Your tone has a teasing sort of charm to it that has him huffing and puffing in front of you.

“You gonna forgive me if I do?”

“I’ll think about it,” you grin back at him.

“Fuck, fine. Fine. I was a dick.”

You giggle as the burly man scowls at you, crossing his arms over his broad chest again. Once your laughter subsides, you offer a more sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry too, Sukuna. I shouldn’t have pushed you to begin with.”

His brow twitches as you apologize. He can’t in his right mind figure out why you think you would need to apologize for his outburst when really you weren’t all that pushy. The last thing he needs right now is to get stuck in this conversation that feels as though it’s physically bringing him pain for any longer than necessary, so he lets it go with a hum.

“Did the brats give you a hard time?”

You shake your head, relieved as the tension fades and Sukuna takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch, legs spread as he slumps into the cushions. “Yuji was crying when I got here, but he quieted down pretty quickly. Choso seemed a bit worried but he helped me cook and just wanted to watch movies,” you twist your body to face him as you speak.

He sighs, an elongated curse falling from his lips as he stares at the ceiling. “I owe ya. I already paid the sitter, but I’ll-”

“Don’t worry about it!”

He stares at you like you’ve grown another limb. “What? This shit took up your whole day.”

“I like spending time with them,” you insist with a shrug. “They remind me of simpler times.”

“What if you get sick?” At this point, Sukuna is reaching for something, anything, so that you’ll give in to him. But that’s just not who you are, is it? You’re selfless and kind, and you won’t accept anything he throws at you and that thought absolutely wrenches his gut. It twists in a type of discomfort that’s becoming entirely too familiar and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

“Then I get sick. Oh well,” you shrug again, shooting him that same sweet smile from earlier.

A muscle in his jaw tightens as he stares at you. “Are you always this much of a pain?”

You scoff humorously. “I don’t take your money and I’m a pain?” Your tone is teasing as you lean towards him.

“A pain,” Sukuna emphasizes the word as he stretches an arm along the sofa, his fingers draped along the back near your face. “That’s how shit like this is supposed to work. I pay you, you look after the brats.” He looks expectantly at you.

Your eyes soften as you realize just how different your views of the world are. Of course Sukuna wouldn’t expect someone to help them out of the goodness of their heart if it was just something he’d never experienced before. In his eyes, everything is transactional. You know he hates the idea of asking for help as well, so you can only assume that he would want to return the favor if it means it isn’t a plea for help. It’s an exchange of services. It makes it easier on his ego.

“Consider it a thank you for turning in the visual portion of our project on time,” you insist, trying to worm your way carefully between the thin line that separates this being help and this being an exchange.

“What?” He lifts a brow in disbelief, crimson irises narrowed as he observes you. “That doesn’t make any fucking sense. That’s my project, too.”

“Well-” you pause, staring down at your manicured nails. “I honestly just thought you hadn’t made it on time.”

His finger taps the back of the couch by your head. “What gave you the idea I just wouldn’t turn my own project in?”

“Well you didn’t show up to our second meeti-”

“Y’know what?” He flicks your forehead with a mischievous smirk, all thoughts of repaying you gone from his mind. “Forget I asked. Don’t answer that.”

You pout at him, bringing a hand up to rub your forehead although it didn’t hurt. “Dick.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whine about it,” he grumbles, but he’s smirking as he eyes you. You can’t help but giggle at his behavior, something about it comforting as Sukuna relaxes into the cushions. He mindlessly rolls his neck, leaning back as silence falls over you.

The sound of cars outside and the quiet dialogue from The Iron Giant is nothing but background noise as you bask in the comfortable air of the still apartment. Being around Sukuna feels almost nostalgic in a sense- sure you had only been apart for a week and a half, but after ‘getting over him,’ as Shoko put it, it almost feels like a warm hug.

It’s a shame it can never last as long as you’d like, as you catch a glimpse of the window and realize it’s dark. Afraid of intruding, you get to your feet and make your way to the door. “I should head out,” you tell him. His eyes follow you, though he gives no other indication of hearing your words. “Will I see you in class on Friday? We get our grade for the project.”

“Nah, not if the brat’s sick. Just email me our grade.”

Your lip twitches downward, and you can only pray Sukuna doesn’t notice. He gives no indication that he does, so you do your best to plaster a look of understanding on your face. “See you around?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t say anything more, still spread across the couch. He’s so tall and bulky that somehow the three-person couch looks too small for him, it may as well be a feat.

“Later, Kuna!” You trill in a sing-song voice as you make your way to the door.

“Night, Prom Queen,” he huffs, a humorous sneer to his tone.

–

Although he’s stuck at home with Yuji, Sukuna sends you a couple of emails updating you on him. The first one caught you off-guard but it warms your heart that he seems to want to talk to you beyond the project. Each email causes your chest to flutter a little more but you don’t entertain the thought that it’s anything more than physical attraction. There’s no point, really, when you can’t seem to go a single day without upsetting him in some manner.

Not that Shoko seems to agree with that sentiment.

“Hey!” She calls as you wait at your usual spot to make your way to the lunch hall.

“Hey, Sho!” You reply cheerily.

“So are we not best friends anymore, or…?” She asks, narrowing her eyes.

Incredulously, you blink at her. “What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t text me to tell me how last night went.”

“Oh, with Sukuna?”

With a deadpan stare, she sighs. “Girl, don’t act stupid.”

Harsh. “Sorry, it was pretty late when I got back, I would have otherwise!” You apologize with a wry smile. “It’s not all that interesting anyway. I just looked after the kids until he got back and then I went home.”

“You’re impossible. That’s obviously not what I’m asking about,” she groans, pushing you further as you beat around the bush of the situation. “You literally haven’t seen him in like a week and a half because he was such a prick, puh-lease tell me he apologized. You better not let him step on you.”

You sigh, giving in to her nosiness. “Yes, he apologized. I think it caused him physical pain,” you giggle to yourself.

“Good,” she snorts, “he deserves it for hurting you and he’s lucky I haven’t smacked him yet for breaking your heart.”

“He didn’t break my heart,” you roll your eyes as the two of you find your way to your usual table at the lunch hall.

Shoko takes her usual seat across from you. “No of course not, you were just sulking for fun.”

“I thought you were supposed to be my best friend?” You ask in an effort to derail the conversation as Haibara and Nanami take their seats beside you.

“That’s why I’m grilling you over that asshole in the first place,” she grins.

“That’s why you shouldn’t be giving me a hard time,” you counter but she just shoots you a sweet smile as Gojo and Geto arrive. Even she won’t subject you to their form of torture when it comes to teasing.

Nanami clearly catches on to what’s going on from where he sits beside you. Leaning over, he keeps his voice down as his observant mahogany eyes take in that you seem fairly bright today in comparison to the last few days.

“He apologized, yes?”

You nod.

“Good. Don’t be afraid to ask for my help, okay?”

“I’m fine, Ken, I promise,” you insist. Satisfied, he smiles and pulls out his lunch. You do the same, pulling out a container of fruit and a panini sandwich. For the first time in just under two weeks, you don’t feel a miserable wrench in your chest as you stare at the sandwich.

–

It’s no surprise when Friday rolls around and Sukuna doesn’t show up to class. Yuji is sick, and that’s his priority, as it should be. You feel a pang of disappointment but it’s heartwarming just how much he cares for his little brothers when he comes across as cold and indifferent a majority of the time. Even if he’s a bit rough around the edges, there’s a certain charm to the quiet and docile moments you’ve shared since working with him.

You can hardly sit still through the class as you await your grade, easily the most stressful part of projects worth this much. Your entire scholarship hinges on each of these massive projects and tests and you can’t risk the consequences of failing.

Ten minutes before the end of the lecture, just as the professor is about to go over the project, the door slowly inches open, and a tall and broad-shouldered student slips in with his hood up. The professor is used to it by now and doesn’t say a word. Rather than heading to his usual seat, the student quietly slips into the seat beside you, nudging you softly. He pulls down his hood and your eyes light up at the sight of your project partner.

“You made it!” You whisper, grinning up at him. Your stomach flutters as he smirks, setting his forearm on the back of your chair as he leans closer to you. Heat radiates from his body as his breath fans your neck, warming your skin despite the shiver that runs up your spine.

“You looked like a kicked puppy when I told ya I needed to stay home, so I pulled some strings.”

You tilt your head to look at him, feeling your breath hitch when you realize just how close he is to your ear. Your cheeks undeniably heat up as you force yourself to stare at the front of the class. “I didn’t look like a kicked puppy. I was just… hoping you could make it.”

“Yeah, well, can’t have the Prom Queen thinkin’ I don’t show up now, can I?”

Your cheeks are burning so hot you think your head might be spinning and it’s only when he finally leans back into his own chair that you realize you were holding your breath. Rubbing a hand over your face in an effort to cool your cheeks down, you cast a glance at Sukuna.

He’s manspreading right into your personal space, leaning back into his chair as he listens to the professor with a look of indifference. In a rare circumstance, he looks more well-rested than usual and seems fairly at ease. His leg isn’t subtly shaking and his eyes aren’t darting down to his watch as he debates when to leave for his next shift. For once, he isn’t Sukuna with two jobs, two dependants, and the world on his shoulders, he’s just a student.

Your heart aches at the realization that he’s so drained from the weight of the world that it’s only in rare moments like this one that you see more of the real Sukuna. A man who smirks and teases, who relaxes into his seat and simply lets life go on. He’s not always cold and tense, there’s a side to him that only those lucky enough to get close to him get to see and the worst part about this realization…

… is that you want to see more of it. Not out of the goodness of your heart and a want to do something nice for someone deserving, although that is a part of it, but for selfish reasons.

Fuck. Shoko is right. Shoko is right and you’re hopelessly crushing over the notoriously hot campus asshole.

You swallow hard, pulling your gaze forward as you realize you’ve been staring. Chewing on your lip, you hardly put together that the professor is passing out project grades until he stops in front of your seats. You blink a few times to reorient yourself.

“You two surprised me immensely as a pairing,” he begins. Although you weren’t paying attention, Sukuna is well aware of the fact that the professor had been dismissing other students as he passes out grades, opting to bring yours up last. He can only assume that means one thing and he’s already smirking. “Although I would prefer you keep the in-class chatter to a minimum-” he pauses to shoot a glance at Sukuna, who’s now huffing with a glance to the side as the smirk falls from his face, “-this is by far the best iteration of this project I’ve seen in all my years of teaching.”

Your jaw hangs ajar, eyes wide as you process his words. Sukuna’s smirking again, hardly seeming shocked.

“Your thesis is worded eloquently and explores the depths of the meanings of each painting, while your visual portion is stunning and displays an understanding of the importance behind each piece to the artist,” he explains. The cocky grin on Sukuna’s face doesn’t leave as he outstretches his arm onto your chair. “This is the first time I’ve ever given out a perfect score, and for that reason I’d like to have you both present your work in front of the class.”

You pale, shooting a fearful glance at Sukuna. He seems mildly irritated by the thought, but shrugs, returning your glance. “Whattaya say?” He asks, his calm facade faltering as he takes in your expression. Crimson irises flit between your eyes as you slowly shake your head.

“I don’t know,” you hesitate meekly, not loving the idea of standing before a lecture hall of students, under far too many pairs of watchful and judgmental eyes.

His gaze drops to the way you’re fidgeting with your fingers, just as you had when you were nervous a couple of nights ago as he puts together that this isn’t something you’re comfortable with. It’s not like that isn’t written across your face right now, but it’s abundantly clear to him through your actions that this isn’t just discomfort, you’re genuinely nervous.

“We’ll do it,” Sukuna says. Your head flips towards him, eyes wide in disbelief as he makes the decision for you.

Before you have a chance to protest, the professor claps his hands together. “Great. I’ll have you present at the end of class next Friday. You don’t have to prepare anything fancy but I will make sure you get extra credit for this.”

You have half a mind to wish he started by mentioning the extra credit portion, you certainly would have hesitated less, but it doesn’t change just how badly you don’t want to do this.

As the professor walks away, you whirl around to face Sukuna. “What the hell, Sukuna?” You whisper-yell, though there isn’t anyone in your vicinity.

He chuckles. “Pick your jaw up off the ground, you’ll be fine. I’ll be there the whole time with you, yeah? I can do as much of the talkin’ as you want.” He leans towards you, setting a hand on the table in front of you both. “‘Sides, you weren’t gonna say no to extra credit. We both know that.”

You chew on your lip, brows knit together as you stare down at your hands, mindlessly fiddling with your nails again. “I guess you’re right.”

The tattooed man lets the silence hang for a moment as he contemplates how shy you’ve suddenly become. You’re meek at times, but this is almost perplexing to him given how bold and saccharine you are towards him when he isn’t purposely pushing your buttons. “So let me get this straight, you were Prom Queen but you don’t like talkin’ in front of people?” Sukuna tilts his head in thought as he shifts to lean on his forearm, edging closer to you.

“That- That felt different,” you insist, leaning forward on your palm as if mirroring his actions. Your eyes trail away from him and Sukuna narrows his eyes.

“I don’t get how that shit’s any different. Aren’t there less people in this class?” He asks, bringing a hand up to scratch his chest. Your eyes flicker over to watch the movement, as though anything is more interesting than actually looking up at him.

“Well, yeah- but-” you pause, your leg now beginning to bounce. Clearly you’re bothered now, but Sukuna can’t wrap his head around what’s made you so shy suddenly- you who so boldly walked your way into his life. He knows people perceive him as scary at a glance, yet that never stopped you. Hell, you hang around Satoru Gojo of all people and Sukuna doesn’t get that either, finding his boisterous presence loud and irritating, but he’s fairly sure that makes you part of a group that would normally be considered popular.

So what in the hell are you so scared of? He doesn’t understand.

“But what?” He pushes, leaning closer to you.

You can feel his breath fanning your face again now that he’s leaning closer to you. It only serves as another distraction and you already can’t seem to find your words. “I- I don’t know, Sukuna!” You huff, pulling back a bit to cross your arms over your chest and put some distance between you.

Sukuna's face twists in confusion, frustration etching itself into his features. “C’mon, it’s easy extra credit. What’s got you so worked up?” He asks with a hint of a sneer as he grows impatient with your avoidance of the subject.

“You wouldn’t get it.” Your voice is firm and there’s a hint of ice forming at the edges of your words that surprises your project partner.

“Try me,” he grunts, leaning as far forward as he can without his chair tipping over.

Your hands move gradually from their position crossed over your chest to hug your frame as your expression turns from one of frustration to a more solemn one. “It’s because I was Prom Queen that I don’t like talking in front of people.”

“Hm?”

“It was a pretty big thing at my school, so some people were jealous, and others were pushy, it’s not like in the movies,” you shrug, as if that’s any sort of explanation in Sukuna’s eyes. Confusion dances across his narrowed red irises and you sigh, letting your guard down. “I don’t know, some girls got pretty jealous, and some people were a bit pushy trying to get my attention and it just ended up being an embarrassment. It was just a lot and I don’t love being in front of groups anymore,” you shrug.

Sukuna sits up straight, staring down at you with a scowl. “Aren’t they supposed to wanna be you or somethin’?” He asks with a frown.

“I mean, they did.”

He supposes you have a point, his observant stare taking in the way you shrink into yourself. “Well this ain’t high school and those assholes aren’t here. Don’t worry about it,” he shrugs in an attempt to reassure you. You finally meet his gaze again, a look of uncertainty painting your wide eyes. “No one is stupid enough to talk about ya like that with me beside you.”

A small smile pulls at your lips and Sukuna’s heart stumbles. He blinks a few times at the feeling in an effort to push it away, focusing instead on the way your eyes brighten. Fuck, that’s not helping him either. He coughs lightly into his elbow, rubbing a hand over his face as you smile shyly at him.

“Thanks, Sukuna. You’re kinda sweet sometimes, in your own way.”

He scowls. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from deep within your chest at his scrunched nose and frown, but you don’t give him an answer, beginning to pack up your bags. Sukuna huffs when you begin to pack up, facing forward with his chin leaning on his palm.

“Hey, thanks for coming in to get our grade.”

He raises a brow. “I didn’t do it for you.”

You pause, gripping your textbook in your bag as you cast a glance at Sukuna. His usual aloof expression has returned, no indication of your prior teasing found on his face.

“What happened to emailing you our grade then?”

Sukuna’s eye twitches as he watches you, returning your stare. “It was a joke.”

Your lips quirk upwards. “Right, how could I forget? It was so funny,” you mock him, reveling in the way he’s on his feet the next moment, the chair scraping across the floor as he glares at you with all the irritation he can muster, that doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” He sneers, taking a step towards you. He towers over you, shoving his hands into his pockets as your cocky demeanor shifts, your eyes widening when he leans down until his face is mere inches from yours. Your breath hitches as he chuckles darkly when he gets the exact reaction he wants from you. “You were all talk two seconds ago, what happened?”

“I- um-” Getting your bearings, you shove his chest playfully. “You’re a dick,” you mumble.

Sukuna doesn’t move an inch when you shove him, a grin plastered across his face. “Thought we were done with callin’ me a dick,” he teases.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff. “Yeah, until you decided to be one again.”

Sukuna’s sharp pupils flicker between your eyes for a moment before he stands up straight. Your heart beats in your ears as you’re freed from the close proximity. “Yeah, whatever you say,” he chuckles, calmly smirking at you. He glances down at the watch on his wrist, letting out a breath of air. “I gotta get back home. Uraume only had an hour to watch the brats.”

Tilting your head, you blink up at him, a hand over your chest to slow your thundering heart. “How’s Yuji?”

Sukuna shrugs. “Better than Wednesday. He’s still got a fever, though.”

“I hope he feels better soon,” you say, hesitating as you take a chance. “Let me know if you need me to watch them.”

Sukuna’s expression is unreadable as he examines you, gears visibly turning in his mind. Without another word, he slings his backpack over his shoulder and throws his hood back up, pausing to look at you before he leaves.

Sighing, he pushes his hair from his forehead beneath his hood. “I swear this’ll be the last time. I got offered a shift Sunday.”

He doesn’t voice his question to watch the kids, it’s an unspoken question because he doesn’t want to ask. The question puts him in a position where he’s asking for help and he so badly wants that not to be what this is.

You smile softly. “I’m free on Sunday.”

Pulling his airpods from a case in his pocket and putting them in his ears, he grunts. “Come by mine Sunday at 8:30.”

You purse your lips. “At night, right?” You ask, your gaze following after the man as he casually descends the lecture hall to the door. “At night, right?” You ask, this time louder to get his attention over his music.

Sukuna heard you the first time, shooting you a sly smirk just before he leaves.

Well, fuck that.

–

With a backpack slung over your shoulder filled with textbooks and study materials, as well as your GameCube, you sigh as you click the buzzer button for Sukuna’s apartment. As you wait for one of the three siblings to let you in, you shiver at the chill air. It’s far too early for you to be awake on a Sunday and your body agrees as you find yourself yawning every few seconds.

Between the cool fall air and the early morning, you couldn’t be bothered to dress in your usual preppy style, opting for a cute deep red hoodie with hello kitty on it and a pair of leggings. It’s still cute, but it’s a contrast to your blouses, skirts and heels.

When the door loudly buzzes, you make your way inside with your hood up over your hair, yawning as you rub your tired eyes. Before you can even knock on the door, Sukuna opens it, leaving your fist stagnant in the air. You drop it by your side, staring up at him through your lashes.

Sukuna’s in his polo shirt that seems so out of place on him you would almost assume he was someone else. “Blue’s not your color,” you comment with a yawn. His amused smile at your tired expression twists in offense at your comment.

“Morning to you too, dick.”

You giggle at his teasing. “You got me up early, I’m allowed to be one.”

“Oh, my bad, you fuckin’ princess,” Sukuna scoffs, an air of playfulness surrounding his words that makes you giggle more. He opens the door to let you into the apartment, his gaze trailing your outfit. It’s not your usual attire but something about how different it is on you while still suiting you stirs something within him. The bigger hoodie draping over your body makes him wonder what his own clothes would-

What the fuck is he thinking? He shakes his head, shutting the door and glancing over to the hall where the pitter patter of small feet sounds. Yuji goes running up to Sukuna, a bundle of blankets wrapped around his tiny form. “Don’t go, big brother.” His voice is lower than usual, clearly still sick as he clings onto his brother’s leg.

Crimson eyes flicker down to the little bundle of blankets. “I’ll be back soon, Yu. Play some MarioKart or whatever.”

Yuji’s curious eyes search the room at the sound of MarioKart. You pull down your hood and wave as he spots you. His eyes widen and he gasps, running up and hugging your legs now. You grin down at him, ruffling his unkempt hair.

Sukuna scoffs. “See? You won’t even know I’m gone.”

“Come play with us!” Yuji insists at the sound of his brother’s comment, still clutching your knee as he turns to plead with his brother.

Sukuna’s hardened indifference cracks, something akin to guilt or sadness flickering in his eyes for a split-second. It’s such a short moment that you wonder if you imagined it. He sighs, crouching down in front of Yuji. Even crouching, he’s still monstrously tall and dwarfs his little brother. You suppose that’s what happens when you’re almost seven feet tall and made of solid muscle.

“Maybe later, kid.” He ruffles his hair just as you did moments ago and gets back to his feet. “I owe ya one,” he sighs, brow furrowed as he stares off to the side with a tight jaw.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask-” you pause, a mix of emotions flooding you as you contemplate dropping the question, but ultimately decide it’s worth it. “I could use a hand studying for history.” You chew on your lip. “You know, just if you have time, no big deal if you don’t!” You smile sheepishly.

Sukuna’s eyes flicker between yours, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, sure.” He turns away, trudging to the door. “Be back at 5:30,” he mumbles before he’s gone. You sigh at the sight of the shut and locked door, turning your groggy attention to Yuji, who coughs into his bundle of blankets at your feet.

It’s a miracle you aren’t sick already, and you hope that miracle stays with you again today.

You’re able to study while the boys play games throughout most of the day once Choso wakes up. They’re easy to look after and they add a certain brightness to your day that only they can, reminding you of just how simple life is when you don’t have three projects due and finals on the horizon.

There’s a weight in your chest at the thought of managing that workload alongside two jobs and two kids, something you find yourself pondering often, but if Sukuna won’t accept your help, then what more can you do? Sure, you’re helping him now, but you know he won’t let this go without repayment, which you would happily take in the form of a study buddy. While that’s likely less stressful for him than cash, it’s still another sliver of his already limited time taken up.

“I’m hungry,” Choso mumbles, looking at you as if he didn’t scarf down the lunch you made only a couple of hours ago.

A lopsided smile dons your face as you contemplate making dinner or letting him know to wait for Sukuna, but if he’s hungry, who are you to say no?

“What would you like?”

“Cereal!” Yuji excitedly calls from where he sits on the floor, stifling a cough when his voice cracks.

“That’s not dinner…” Choso mumbles, brow furrowing in thought as he looks at his younger brother, who’s been so picky while he’s been sick that most of their meals have been the same few things that he can stomach. “What about mac and cheese?”

Yuji takes a moment to think, before he decides this is acceptable and nods excitedly.

“I’m sure I can make that happen,” you agree, getting to your feet to peruse the kitchen that you’re growing more accustomed to. Yuji stays in the living room, the sounds of a terrified Luigi echoing throughout the apartment as Choso follows closely behind you. You’ve noticed over your time with Sukuna and his brothers that Choso seems to have a penchant for cooking and loves to help. It’s too cute and your heart swells each time he finds a way to lend a hand while you cook.

Plus, you get a helper, which means less work. It’s a win-win situation, really.

As you work your way through the kitchen, boiling water and letting Choso salt and stir the noodles before pouring them into a casserole dish, you sprinkle cheese between and over the noodles as you wait for the oven to eat up, explaining each step along the way for Sukuna’s brother. Stirring the cheese into the noodles along with some herbs and spices, you tilt your head at the dish.

It’s almost ready for the oven, but not quite.

“Do you have breadcrumbs?”

Choso stares up at the pantry shelves. “Uhh…” He pushes around a few boxes before shaking his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Do you have bread?”

“Yeah, but it’s old.”

“Old like mouldy or old like stale?” You ask with a thoughtful expression.

“Stale.”

“Perfect!”

Choso wrinkles his nose as he hands the loaf of bread to you. It’s in moments like these that his resemblance to his older brother really becomes apparent.

“I’ll show you how to make breadcrumbs,” you grin. Choso doesn’t seem to have a grasp on what you need breadcrumbs for when mac and cheese’s ingredients are literally listed in the name, but he still watches with intrigue anyway. You cut up the slices of bread into tiny pieces, throwing them in the oven until they’ve dried out, and then tossing them over the mac and cheese and placing the extra crumbs aside.

“Trust the process, Cho.”

He tilts his head curiously as you place the mac and cheese on a rack in the oven. “Trust the process?”

“It means… it may not make sense to you in the moment, maybe it’s messy or confusing, but the end result will be more than worth it.”

“Oh. Okay. Trust the process,” he parrots, before making his way back to the living room just as his brother is sucking up a ghost with a vacuum in Luigi’s Mansion.

While the meal bakes, you grab your history textbook again and get some more studying in. It doesn’t take long for the timer to go off and Choso comes running up with wide eyes to stare at the prepared meal. Yuji follows slowly in his bundle of blankets, happily taking a bowl as you warn them both it’s hot.

“So?”

With a mouth full of macaroni, Choso smiles. “Trust the process,” comes his muffled happiness. The boys chow down on what you assume will be their dinner given that Sukuna should be home soon, and Choso returns to help you clean up.

He grabs a ziploc bag to place the extra breadcrumbs in, holding it open for you. Just as you’re pouring the food into the bag, the front door swings open and you jolt in surprise, causing bread crumbs to go flying.

Sukuna drops his keys on the table by the door, his eyes scanning the room as he spots Yuji before his aloof expression crumbles when he arches a brow at the absolute mess that his kitchen is. Your cheeks heat up as you and Choso stare at him with guilty expressions.

Really, you should be blaming Sukuna for scaring you.

“I’m not fuckin’ cleaning that,” he grumbles, walking slowly over the mess of cables in the living room as he pulls his shirt up over his head in the most ungodly slutty way you could possibly imagine and you can’t bring yourself to tear your eyes from the sight of his toned back.

Of course, you always knew Sukuna was muscular, but seeing it first hand makes it hard to shake the image from your mind. He could be hung on the wall of a museum, his muscles are so sculpted, rippling with every movement and decorated in tattoos that suit him so well he could be an actual god and you wouldn’t even bat an eye.

Choso pulls you from your thoughts as they border on inappropriate, by tugging at your sleeve.

“We should clean.”

“Right!” You squeak, shaking the image of shirtless Sukuna as best as you can from your mind as you stare at the scattered mess.

“Okay let’s… start with the counter.”

It doesn’t take too long to clean up the mess and there’s still enough bread crumbs left over for Sukuna to make something if he wanted, so it could have gone over worse.

Speak of the devil, he rounds the corner wearing a black muscle shirt with a metal band logo you don’t recognize scrawled across the front and sleeves cut so deep it hardly counts as a shirt, like he’s showing off or something. You don’t even want to begin to think about the fact that he’s wearing grey sweatpants as well like some sort of tease who probably just threw on the first thing he saw and it didn’t even cross his mind how stupidly hot he is.

You avert your eyes, attempting to keep your cheeks from heating up any more than they already have. Sukuna crosses the living room to the kitchen in a few long strides, peering at the floor in search of crumbs.

“The fuck even happened over here?”

“You scared me when you opened the door,” you mumble, leaning back against the kitchen counter where your textbook is resting.

“So you threw shit everywhere?”

Your brow furrows at his accusation. “I just fumbled a bit and spilled what was on the pan.”

“Mm.” Sukuna’s gaze scans the kitchen until he finds the macaroni and cheese casserole sitting just behind your textbook. With a hint of a smirk, he takes a step forward, so close to you that his body heat warms your skin, his abs and chest just barely brushing against the plush of your breasts as he dips his finger into the dish.

Pulling his arm back, he slyly locks eyes with you, not bothering to take a step back even as you press your spine into the counter. He slips his finger between his lips, sucking the cheese from it with a pop!

Your eyes are wide as you look up at him, caught between him and the hard countertop behind you like a deer in the headlights, frozen. If you move even an inch, he’ll be pressed up against you, and- don’t let your thoughts spiral again.

Sukuna smirks, lidded eyes smug as though he’s got you just where he wants you, amused to pull such a reaction from you. He’s become increasingly aware of the effect he has on you and everything he’s been doing has absolutely been on purpose, even if you don’t know it. He’s making a show out of his muscles, getting close to you, sucking on his finger, all to get a rise out of you.

He’s not sure he understands it himself, but he loves your little reactions. He loves the way your eyes widen, your breath hitches, and your muscles tense as though you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t. He’s sure it all boils down to lust, but he’ll make the most of it while he has you here.

He clicks his tongue after a thoughtful moment. “Not bad. The breadcrumbs are a nice touch.”

“T-Thanks,” you stammer quietly. Sukuna chuckles lowly as he finally gives you space, turning to open the fridge and grab a protein drink. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, bringing a hand up to slow your pounding heart.

“You stickin’ around to study?”

“I- um-” you pause, clearing your throat in an effort to calm your flustered state. “If you have time, that would be great. I mean, I’d appreciate it.”

“Sure. The brats are quiet while you’re around.” He brings the protein drink up to his lips, downing it in one go and tossing the bottle into a bucket in the corner of the room as though he’s done it a thousand times.

With the boys distracted by the GameCube, Sukuna sits down at the table in the back of his apartment with you and a bowl of macaroni and cheese. Scooting his chair closer to you, his eyes scan the page you’re on.

“Is this for History 209?” He asks, briefly flipping to the textbook cover.

You nod.

“Mm.”

Sukuna briefly scans the upcoming pages before diving into explanations of the textbook, from memory. He clearly has a fondness for history that seems to come naturally to him as he explains anything you ask questions on without needing to even glance at the textbook. It’s like second nature to him.

“What years did the cold war take place?” He quizzes without so much as glancing up at you as he flips through the textbook pages without reading at all as though it’s a picture book.

“Uh-” You stare up at the ceiling. “1952 to 89?”

“47 to 89. Tell me about the Cuban Missile Crisis.”

“Um- Cuba felt like the US was about to invade, so they asked the Soviet Union to install missiles in-”

“Who asked?”

“Cuba?”

Sukuna glances up at you, his expression unimpressed. “No shit. What leader?”

“Oh. Castro.”

Hours pass by and you hardly even notice until your eyes begin to grow heavy and your yawning sets in. Sukuna gradually begins leaning further on his knuckles over the table, launching question after question at you without even a lick of help from the textbook. It would almost be impressive, if you didn’t already know how smart Sukuna is.

“How did the modern revolution affect the environment?”

You chew on your lip, the last bit of energy you were working with fizzling out suddenly as you’re left staring blankly at the table, completely burnt out.

Sukuna’s been only half paying attention for the past few minutes, growing equally as worn out and unable to focus as you are, though he hasn’t noticed just how spent you are given his inattention. It’s not until you don’t respond that his attention snaps to you, staring off into space.

He glances over your features, eyes dropping to your oversized hoodie. His thoughts stray to places they shouldn’t be again, so he wills himself to look back at your eyes, but the way you’re chewing on your lip-

It’s then that he realizes how close you are. Over the course of the past couple of hours, Sukuna has leaned further forward in his chair and you’ve scooted closer in an effort to look at the pages of your textbook while he explains. It’s weird, the way the close proximity seems to draw him in, as though he belongs in your space, but he knows better. He knows you exist in different worlds.

Still, as you space out further, a piece of your hair falls out of place, blocking the blank and tired expression on your face, and Sukuna doesn’t even have a moment to process his actions before he moves. It’s almost delicate, the way he slowly moves the hand he isn’t leaning on to tenderly brush the strand of hair behind your ear.

His action draws your attention, and along with it a steady heat that rises to your cheeks, reaching your ears and down to your neck. Sukuna doesn’t even seem phased by what he’s done, as if it’s completely natural and something the two of you just do. As though he isn’t pushing the balance of your strange friendship, if it could even be called that.

You lick your lip as you will your thoughts to stop bouncing all over the place, trying not to read too much into his actions, but it’s hard not to when his pupils dart down to follow your tongue as it swipes your lower lip. His pupils grow suddenly, and you don’t know how not to read into that, and now your thoughts are spiraling, and you’re wondering if all of Sukuna’s actions today are premeditated or-

As if Sukuna’s only just become aware of what he’s doing, he clears his throat and sits back. His pupils shrink and he crosses his arms over his chest, placing distance between you.

“You should head home before it’s too dark.”

In the endless sea of your thoughts, all you can do is nod. Snapping yourself back to reality, you begin packing your bag and make your way out to the living room where the two boys are excitedly playing an old copy of the board game Operation after Sukuna had told them no more video games, much to their dismay.

You smile at the sight of poor bundled up little Yuji and his older brother, who clearly cares a great deal for the little salmon-haired boy. The three of them are a sweet little family. Sukuna has a funny way of showing it sometimes but he clearly adores the two boys, or he wouldn’t be doing everything that he is.

At the end of the day, he could have left them to their own devices, thrown them into the fostering system. He could have used legal means to shove them into a relative’s care. He could have done a lot of things, but you can see the way he adores them. The way he loves them so deeply and genuinely that he can’t bear the thought of seeing them thrown to the wolves like that. He’s put a great deal of his life on hold and put his health, both mental and physical, on the line to see the two boys thrive, and it fills your heart with joy.

“You know, I could just leave the GameCu-”

“No.” Sukuna gets to his feet, standing a few feet away.

Yuji and Choso’s heads simultaneously whip around as though they’ve heard the biggest betrayal of their entire lives.

At five and twelve, they very well may have.

“Awwww!”

“Pleaaase, Kuna!”

“No, that’s final.”

You shoot Sukuna an easy smile, giggling to yourself at the sight of his scowl and frustrated huff.

“Don’t get ideas into their heads,” he grumbles at you, brushing past you as you clean up the GameCube and stuff the games into your bag. He grabs some more medication for Yuji, who doesn’t complain as he swallows it with a miserable frown at the bitter taste.

You wait at the door with your bag packed as Sukuna moves around the apartment, putting the medication away before he joins you at the door.

“Thank you so much for your help with studying, Kuna,” you say as you twist the handle and make your way out the door, turning to face him just outside his apartment. He leans on the doorframe, shutting the door slightly behind him and blocking the boys’ vision of you to give you both some privacy. He’s grimacing at the nickname, but he doesn’t complain.

“It’s whatever. Just paying you back for lookin’ after the brats.”

Your lips quirk up into a smile. Of course that’s all it is. “Email me if you need me to look after them while Yuji’s still sick.”

A puff of air escapes Sukuna’s nose in a makeshift laugh. “This your excuse to have more time to study?”

You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes at the way he so obviously is denying that he’s getting help from you. “Yeah. Yeah, it is,” you agree.

He smirks, nodding. “Tuesday at three.”

“Better be in the afternoon this time,” you tease.

“God forbid I take a night shift,” he scoffs, turning to shut the door. He pauses for a split second, turning back to you. You almost think he’s about to thank you, but either you read the situation wrong or he second-guesses himself because- “You better remember who Allen Dulles is on Tuesday.”

Your face contorts as he references the cold war and chuckles at your expression before closing the door.

Dick.

–

Friday comes sooner than you can possibly imagine as you find yourself spending late nights studying with Sukuna after looking after Yuji and Choso. Yuji returned to school on Thursday and Choso on Monday, so you’d gotten into the habit of picking up Choso from school and going back to watch them play games while you studied or worked on projects.

You couldn’t know whether Sukuna would still need help now that Yuji was feeling better, but that was the least of your concerns, because it’s Friday.

And you’ve been dreading this Friday in particular. Worse still, it felt like the world was against you all day too.

You woke up to the first snow of the season, opting to dress in a cute, white knit sweater that was fairly warm, as well as some beige leggings- not to mention all your winter gear.

And that was only the tip of the iceberg, you had to redo your eyeliner after somehow messing it up not once but twice, and then you managed to step in a puddle of mud and get your usual winter boots completely covered in dirt.

With your clean high heeled boots adorning your feet, you make your way to the school and quickly fall into step with Nanami who shares your first class of the day. He’s bundled up warmly in a long coat, a grey scarf accenting his coat. His sharp eyes turn to you as you join him, softening at the sight of you.

“Good morning,” he greets you, a kind smile pulling at his features.

You return his smile half-heartedly, giving him a brief wave. “Hey, Kento. How’re you feeling about finals?”

He hums thoughtfully. “Prepared,” he decides after a moment. “Though I don’t believe there’s such a thing as too much studying.”

“Yeah… I get that,” you agree, watching the snow condense beneath your feet with each step. Comfortable silence falls over you as the crunching of snow and the sounds of passing students fills the air. The warmth of your breath surrounds you as you mindlessly stare at the sparkling coat of flakes across the ground.

After a few moments, Nanami hums again, interrupting the silence and pulling your attention back to him. His gaze flickers between your face and your hands.

“Are you alright?”

“Hm? Yeah, why?”

Again, his watchful eyes flicker down to your hands. “You’ve been zipping up and unzipping your jacket since we began walking.”

You purse your lips, finally following his gaze down to your jacket which must have been making a grating zipping noise the whole time that you hadn’t even noticed with how caught up in your thoughts you were.

“Sorry Kento,” you sigh, shaking your head. “Just a bit nervous.”

His head tilts. “What are you nervous about?”

“I have to make a presentation in Art History at the end of the day. No one else in class is presenting.” With a sheepish smile, you proceed to subconsciously begin playing with your zipper again, too caught up in your thoughts to realize you’re doing it.

“I see. Is that what Sukuna was working on this morning?”

“You have a class with him?”

“Yes. He’s in my Accounting class early on Tuesdays and Fridays,” Nanami explains, subtly watching the way you’re messing with your zipper again, though he keeps his mouth shut.

“Oh. He was working on things this morning?”

“I believe so. It didn’t seem like he was paying attention,” Nanami shrugs. “I assumed he was working on something else.”

You let out a breath. “That’s kind of a relief, honestly.”

Arching a brow, Nanami hums questioningly.

“I still don’t like public speaking,” you quietly mumble, zipping your jacket up fully and burying your face into the fabric as your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

“Hm. I see,” the blonde hums, having been there during your Prom alongside Haibara. He’s well aware of the fallout that came with being named Prom Queen. “Well, you’ll have Sukuna with you, and I highly doubt anyone would comment with Sukuna at your side.”

“Scary dog privilege,” you agree.

“Sorry?” Kento’s brow furrows in confusion, leaving you giggling.

“Don’t worry about it.”

With a shake of his head, Kento opens the door to your next lecture and puts his focus into his notes as usual. You do your best to follow suit, but if your bouncing leg is any indicator, your focus isn’t long for this world and Nanami knows he’s in for a long study session in the coming week.

–

You did debate just not showing up, but if Sukuna was working on the presentation at an early morning class, you don’t have the heart to not show up at least for him. Still, your nerves are frayed at the seams in downright unease at the thought of being the only group to present your project.

The concept of being one of the only two people at the center of everyone’s attention all for being named the ‘best’ at something brings back too many memories for you to care to admit. Taking a deep breath, you do your best to keep your eyes on the prize: the extra credit.

Sukuna was right when he said you wouldn’t turn down extra credit. You would definitely think about turning it down when it came at the cost of your dignity and sanity, but with Sukuna at your side, you think you just might be alright.

At the end of the day, you know you need to keep your grades up if you want to keep your scholarship, and more importantly your parents happy, so with a deep breath, you focus on the class to the best of your ability, pushing aside your mess of anxiety and worries.

That is, until you glance back at Sukuna’s usual seat, only to find it empty and your heart damn near stops. Your eyes widen and in the least subtle way possible, you whip your head around the class in search of him. He has to be here. He promised to handle all the talking, you aren’t prepared, you… You can’t do this alone. Surely the professor will understand that too, right?

“Before I dismiss you all, I’d like to have a couple of exemplary students come up to present the Meaning in Art project I had you all submit a couple of weeks back.”

Your heart is thundering, your breathing growing shallow as panic sets in.

“These students displayed an impeccable understanding of the art and artists they chose to study, demonstrating this understanding through both their written and visual pieces.”

Your mouth is dry, your throat tight. Where the fuck is he? He wouldn’t throw you to the wolves like this, would he? You didn’t prepare anything, you were relying on him.

“With that being said, I’d like to invite these students up to the front of the class to give a short breakdown of their project.” Your name follows this statement, along with Sukuna’s, and the class goes silent.

Your hands are trembling as you stare in dismay at the desk sitting at the front of the room where Sukuna’s art is sitting, alongside your written thesis. You swallow hard, forcing down your nerves as all eyes fall to you.

On shaky legs, you slowly make your way down to the front of the class, quietly making your way up to the professor. “I- um-” you take a breath in an effort to calm your nerves. “Can we present next week instead? Sukuna- um- isn’t here,” you quietly whisper.

“Finals are in two weeks. This is the last class for this semester.”

Fuck.

“Right. Sorry, yeah. That’s fine,” you whisper, chewing on your lip as you turn to face the class. Dozens of pairs of judgmental eyes stare back at you and if the ground opened up and swallowed you whole, never to be seen again, it would be a better fate than what you were about to do. Alone.

“Um-” You mumble, clearing your throat as you pick up the printed thesis you wrote together with Sukuna. Surely he would walk through the door in just a few seconds, right? He would show up for you just like you did for him when Yuji was sick, right? This has to be a cruel prank.

“Speak up, please.” Your professor’s voice pulls you from the delusion that Sukuna was ever going to show up. The delusion that Sukuna ever cared.

Fuck, you just admitted to yourself that you like Sukuna.

You just came to terms with the fact that your attraction to him is more than just physical.

You’ve spent weeks defending him, even when he was a dick, but this really takes the cake.

Your chest tightens as you realize just how much he’s let you down. You want to cry, it’s a fight against your own body not to show just how nervous you are.

“For our-” You pause, staring down at the page with your name scrawled alongside Sukuna’s and a perfect score circled in red. “For my project,” you begin, taking a deep breath in an effort to push down the swirling anger, disappointment, and anxiety all threatening to suffocate you.

You launch into an explanation on the three pieces you and Sukuna had chosen, summarizing your thesis while fighting the tremble in your voice, putting every last ounce of effort you can into masking how nervous you are and avoiding the stares of your classmates.

Picking up the art Sukuna drew is when the last shreds of your dignity fall apart and tears prick in your eyes. Your voice wavers and you know everyone can tell. You can hear the whispers, the quiet giggles. You don’t know whether it’s directed at you or if they’re even paying attention to you at all, but each and every noise seems to drag you one inch closer to your own personal hell and you shrink into yourself as you attempt to explain Sukuna’s art.

Alone.

You can’t even say for sure if your words made sense towards the end of your presentation, the whole thing a blur behind tear-filled eyes and the ringing of anxiety in your ears. The only thing you do hear is your professor dismissing you. You don’t even grab your bag and you leave your project on the table, you just need out. You need air.

Your feet carry you out the door, your eyes trained on the ground as you do your best not to collide with anyone as you run for the doors. You don’t hear someone call your name in confusion and you don’t see them chase after you. So focused on fresh air, you forget how cold it is as the freezing air shocks your skin and chills your lungs.

Finding a spot beside the door outside, away from prying eyes and out of the way, you wrap your arms around yourself and wipe your tears, taking deep breaths to slow your racing heart.

“There you are. What happened?”

You blink a couple of times, trying to wipe any evidence of your tears as you lock eyes with familiar mahogany ones.

“Ken?” You barely manage to whisper his name, your breath stolen from your lungs by the anxiety rocking your body.

“What happened?” He pushes again, eyes traveling down to your trembling hands. He can’t tell whether that’s from the cold or your nerves, but like the gentleman he is, he pulls his coat off and throws it over your shoulders, zipping it up over your arms in an effort to keep you from freezing.

“He didn’t show up.”

Nanami’s lips press into a thin line, taking in your expression. You’re barely keeping it together, though the freezing air flooding your lungs is keeping your mind distracted.

With a sigh, Kento sets a hand on your shoulder. “Come back inside. Let’s get your coat.”

Slowly coming back down from your panicked state as his hand on your shoulder grounds you, you pause for a moment to take in the blonde in front of you. He’s in just a knit sweater and slacks, visibly shaking from the cold air now that you’re wrapped in his jacket.

“Shit, sorry Kento,” you mumble, letting him guide you back inside and to your lecture hall, where he takes his coat back and grabs your bags for you to avoid any prying eyes. Handing you your coat, followed by the bag he’s packed up for you, he sighs and leads the way to a secluded area of the History and Science building of the college. You don’t say a word as he sits you down on a bench.

“Are you alright?”

You nod.

“Are you lying?”

Your mouth opens to say no, but one glance at his sharp gaze tells you he sees right through you. “Were you outside my class?”

“Mhm. I wanted to make sure things went well.”

“That’s… Really kind, Nanamin. Thank you.”

He hums quietly, leaning back against the wall behind the bench. Someone walks past mumbling something to themself about failing a test, but it’s otherwise silent in the halls.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better. People were laughing.” You chew on your lip, rubbing your hands over your face.

“I’m certain they weren’t. Students laugh throughout class constantly, they likely weren’t paying attention,” he points out.

You know he has a point, but it doesn’t make the situation any less frustrating and disappointing.

“I don’t know what hurts more,” you say quietly, more to yourself than to Kento, “that he promised he’d be there with me and wasn’t, or having to relive that stupid moment in high school all over again.”

Your friend grimaces. “Yes, I can imagine that wasn’t pleasant. I’m sorry.” It’s about all he can offer in the moment, but mentally he’s thinking of mentioning what happened to Gojo and Geto and watching the drama that unfolds. The white haired frat boy would relish in the idea of having an actual reason to have beef with Sukuna.

“Why don’t we go grab something to eat?” Nanami suggests in an effort to get your mind off of your horrifying presentation and, more importantly, the man that’s managed to break your heart twice now.

“I’m okay. I think I just want to go home.”

“I would prefer if you weren’t alone,” Nanami protests.

“We just ate, though.”

“We can grab dessert, then. My treat,” he insists.

Silence follows as you look up at Nanami, finding comfort in the concern swirling in those deep mahogany irises. “Fine,” you sigh, relenting finally.

With a sympathetic smile, he gets to his feet and offers you his hand, helping you get to your feet as he leads the way back out into the cold with one goal in mind.

Keep your mind off of Sukuna.

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❦ a/n ; sorry for the delay on this one!! i had a work conference all last week but had a ton of fun writing this when i got back, so i hope you all enjoyed it <3 as always, likes, reblogs, and comments are super appreciated <3

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woodland-gremlin · 9 months ago

Text

Ancestor's Fury AU

( Inspired by @glow-in-the-dark-death and @vixen-uchiha )

The Infinite Realms are, well, Infinite. They are the doorway between dimensions and contain every after life. This includes the Krypton one.

When Danny learned that the Infinite realms contained the afterlife for aliens he didn’t stop gushing about it to Jazz for days. He was awestruck. Not everyone would stop to talk to this excited child, especially when they don’t know that he is the King, but some would, like the Kryptons. They were quite happy to talk to the boy king, especially when they could get updates on the last of their kind in the Living Realm. When they learned about the Anti-Ecto Acts and the role the Justice league and the last of their living had in it they were angry and confused. To learn about why the Justice League didn't do anything about the Acts they traveled into the Living Realm to find out. This is how they found out about how Superman treats Superboy.

When Danny first told them about Superboy they threw a party, after all they gained a new family member. Look at the baby, isn’t he adorable?! Traveling to the Living Realm and finding out he was a clone didn’t change that fact. Learning how Superman treats him for being a clone however opens the floodgates of their fury. They were already weary because of the inaction with the Anti-Ecto Acts and now he is calling the baby an “it”! Not happening on their watch.

Then they remember the boy king. The one who brought this to their attention in the first place and who has a clone he treats as family. So they decided to bring this to his attention.

Danny, when he learns of this, is furious. He knows what it is like to be cloned by your worst enemy in an attempt to replace you, but that is on the fruitloop who cloned you not the child who was dragged into their scheme and is as much of a victim as you are. He could never treat Ellie the way Superdouche does. For Ancients sake he was barely a teenager when it happened and yet he handled it better than a full grown adult superhero (not that he should be called that after what he has done).

In conclusion no one is happy with the news, especially Ellie. She is furious with how her fellow clone is treated and is definitely planning Superasses demise, though silver lining, clone buddy!

All of this leads to Danny putting a blacklist on Superman. No one from the realms can help him and are welcome to beat him up as long as no one else gets hurt. So when the JL Dark gets called to help because Superman keeps getting targeted by supernatural beings they refuse and explain the black listing. The JL then bullies John Constintine into summoning the Ghost King, who is his nephew, not that they know that, to retract the blacklisting.

Danny: Yeah no, can’t help you there. The ghosts hunting you down are not very happy with your parenting, and neither am I for that matter.

Superman: ??? I don’t have a son.

Danny: *sarcastically* So the kid running around with the moniker Superboy is someone else’s Krypton kid? Sorry, didn’t know there was another Krypton that survived the destruction of their planet.

Superman: It’s a clone, not my son.

Danny: *pissed* He is not an it! You may not consider him your son but the ghosts of Krypton do. Your parents thought the Kents raised you better than that.

Meanwhile, elsewhere:

Ellie: *tackles Superboy* Clone Buddy!!

Superboy: *surprised Pikachu face*

#danny phantom #dcu #dcxdp #dp + dc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #conner kent #superboy #ghost king danny #danielle “danni” phantom is called ellie #ancestor's fury au #superman #clones #ellie phantom #danni phantom

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monstersflashlight · 3 months ago

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Commission for anon!

Request: Hi! I'd love a ftm reader x multiple monsters/cryptids (dealers choice) where he's a party favor. Love the whole play thing dynamic with free use and impact play (very big fan of pussy slapping). Would love to see how creative you get with it. Same rules as a private play party where everyone knows each other and everything was pre-agreed upon and he's the hosts submissive. I adore your works!

A/N: Hi there! This was very fun to write, hope you like it!

Best. Night. Ever.

Multiple monsters (naga, werewolf, alien and mothman) x trans masc!reader || free use, impact play, sharing is caring, bondage, dirty talk (lowkey), spit-roasting

When your naga friend asked you to be one of the entertainments of the party he was hosting for his Cryptid Club, you were a bit unsure, but after he told you what you were supposed to do, you were completely sold on the idea. Since your transition, you were a bit of a slut, trying everything and anything you could, and this opportunity was priceless to try some... supernatural fun.

You arrived at the time your friend asked you to, but you were surprised when he instantly got to you with a concerned expression. “Hey dude look, I know I told you there was gonna be a few more entertainments, but… they didn’t show. Do you mind being the only one?” You were confused at his words, not really sure what that would mean for you, but also really worried you were going to let your friend down.

“What would that entitle?” You asked, trying to sound reasonable. You were ready to fuck some monsters, nothing to worry there.

“Well… Now you’d be the only one getting fucked, so it can be a lot,” he explained, sounded worried again. He kept biting his lip as his long tail thrashed nervously behind him.

Oh right, human body against a few monster’s dicks. Yeah, could definitely be a lot, but you… kind of liked the idea. All those monsters, all those dicks… just for you? You were almost ready to fall to your knees and offer yourself right there.

“I- I’m okay with it,” you answered, choking on your own saliva when the neediness appeared. You were so wet you could feel the wetness rubbing your thighs.

“You are the best, have I told you that?” He asked, leaning down to kiss your cheek loudly, a hit of saliva that he knew drove you insane but always made you giggle.

“Yes, you have.” You gave him an equally loud smack in his scale-covered face. “So… where do I go?” You looked around, trying to decipher something, but his house looked as normal as ever.

He walked you through everything. He told you more or less how many monsters there would be, half a dozen, but said not everybody would actively participate with you. You were okay with that. You had to be restrained, as part of the sacrifice-to-the-monsters theme, and they could do whatever they wanted with you (within reason), which you were very okay with.

He helped you out of your clothes, groping you every once in a while, kissing your chest scars like he always did when you fooled around, he had a bit of a fixation with your chest. He tied you over a table, legs far apart and arms over your head, presenting yourself like an offering. He kissed your temple and covered you with a silk sheet, telling you the guests would be there in a minute.

The moments of wait were excruciatingly hard, you weren’t one to be quiet or still for long periods of time, and being tied up, ready to be fucked and listening to all voices around… It was driving you insane with excitement and anticipation, your cunt so wet you could feel your juices dripping down your crack.

Someone clapped, and silence fell down upon all. “Hello friends, welcome to my party. I present you our lovely hole-in-one for the night.” There was a chorus of ah’s and oh’s as he pulled the sheet off your body. You felt like the most desired being in the whole universe, all anxiety dissipating in a cloud of desire and heat. “Look at that pretty cunt, all ready for us to play with… who wants to do the honors?” The naga host asked everyone, you shivered, your whole body trembling with anticipation.

You looked around, watching mesmerized all the monsters in the room. There was a magnificent white werewolf, a green alien with fingers so long you could already imagine where those would go, and even a mothman whose antennae were twitching every time he moved. You were more than ready to be ravished.

Some approached, the werewolf chuckling when you groaned at the sight of his huge dick. “Don’t worry darling, I won’t knot you. Not today, at least.” You blushed at the innuendo and looked at him with pleading eyes. “But I called dibs, so I hope you are prepared.” That’s all the heads up he gave you before his big tip was breaching your cunt, you were drenched already, and he slipped inside as you groaned loudly.

He smirked at you, grabbing your hips and going further and further, to the point it was almost painful, but he didn’t care. And you didn’t either, he felt magnificent inside of you. And when he bottomed out, he didn’t even wait two seconds before he was fucking you mercilessly. You could feel the base of his knot hitting your clit at every thrust, your mouth hanging open as your naga friend approached, pinching your nipples until they felt raw and you were about to explode.

“I like your present to us, friend, you did good,” the alien said as he rubbed his dick along your face, slapping your check with it. You tried to catch it in your mouth, but the werewolf fucking you didn’t let you, slapping the outside of your thigh and making you scream. Everyone looked at you at once, and you blushed.

“Such a needy slutty toy,” this time it was the mothman complimenting you, his dick already out of his cock-pocket.

He was rapidly jerking his dick next to your face, which was average size but had ridges and some sort of protrusion at the end that you know would feel phenomenal inside of you. You almost begged him to fuck your cunt instead of your mouth, but you remembered you were just a toy, you had no say on which hole he fucked.

You dutifully opened your mouth and he praised you. “Such a good boy-toy, aren’t you?” Someone else laughed behind him, you could see a shadow of green, probably the alien, but you couldn’t think much about it before your hair was roughly pulled and he started fucking your mouth with intent. You gagged, and he chuckled. “He’s so needy, won’t stop gagging trying to get more of me,” the mothman over you was almost cooing at your messy self, drool going everywhere as you indeed gagged on his dick. Your head was pushed back, his balls hitting your nose as you tried to go further and he pinched your nipples, making you groan around his cock.

Whoever was fucking your cunt, you thought he was the werewolf you saw earlier, responded: “You have to try his cunt later, bro, he’s squeezing me so tight I think I’m going to spill any second.” He pumped a few more times and spilled inside of you, adding to the mess you were already and making you groan indecently around the cock in your mouth.

He pulled back and somebody replaced him, a new cock pressing against your gaping hole, but when you thought you were going to get fucked again, you heard your naga friend saying: “Don’t be shy, slap his cunt, he loves it.” You gagged, trying to pull away from the cock, already anticipating what was going to happen. But the mothman didn’t relent, he pushed further as whoever was on your lower half did exactly that.

Slap.

Your eyes rolled back into your head, your back arched impossibly high as you came. You came so hard and so forcibly that you squeezed the muscles in your throat, making the mothman pull back as he released, painting your face with his sweet come. You kept coming as he rubbed the tip of his cock over your open lips, your brain was so far away that you couldn’t care less.

“Does he always react like that?” The alien asked, jerking himself next to you, his hand already approaching your dripping hole.

“Every single time, he’s a slut with a pretty hole,” your friend responded. You blushed hard, knowing full well that he was right. The alien didn’t think twice before slapping your pussy again, making you cry out so loud that everyone around laughed. You were so sensitive, and it felt so great…

“Please…” Is all you could say before someone else’s dick was inside of you and you were being pounded into oblivion, a new cock being rubbed over your messy face as someone pinched your clit almost painfully. Not two second later you had a naga dick (the big one of the two) buried inside your cunt and the alien’s cock in your mouth. You were used like a monster’s fleshlight, and you couldn’t feel better.

“Slap him again, I want to feel his cunt squeezing me.” He did, and you saw stars. The milky way. The whole fucking universe.

One after another multiple cryptids fucked and probed and groped and played with your body like you were just a toy for their enjoyment. And you were. You wanted to be. And it felt fantastic. Better than fantastic, it felt perfect to be played with by a bunch of monsters.

You ended the night covered in fluids. You didn’t even know how many monsters came in you, over you… You only knew pleasure and desire and complete bliss. You were sated to the point of dizziness, and when everyone left between compliments to the host and you, your naga friend carried you into the shower and cleaned you sweetly. Always the gentleman. Before you fell asleep, his tail nested around your body, you could only have one thought:

Best. Night. Ever.

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leclarifies · 2 months ago

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birthday boy

✰ max verstappen x !bestfriend reader ✰

summary: max doesn't like it when it's race week and you're not there. he's been trying to convince you to quit your job and just come to his races full-time, offering to pay for the expenses but you've refused every single time. you end up surprising him in the singapore gp for his surprise birthday party the grid had arranged for him.

wc: 3.5k

a/n: hi there! this is my FIRST ever published fic and i'm super nervous about posting hjawdhbawjhbdbhawd i've had this idea since maxie's birthday in september but kept it in the drafts and re-edited some things around just to make it cohesive. i have requests open and my masterlist is currently an ongoing wip. thank you for reading!

edit: hello, here's my complete masterlist for anyone who wants to view my other work. thank you for 350 notes btw! i really appreciate it <3

a ding rings through your phone and at first, you ignore it.

it’s usually a work text which is why you’re not more alert. it’s a weekend and you genuinely just want to enjoy yourself while watching the race that your best friend is participating in and starting from pole position.

then another ding, two more follow after that.

your furrow your brows confused, if it was a work text then they wouldn’t be spamming unless it was an emergency.

you open your phone and you’ve realized you’ve been added to a group chat.

lily m: hi guys! i’ve created this gc bc some of the boys wanted to surprise max for his birthday!!!!! so i’ve invited most of the drivers and their wags here in case you guys wanted in as well charles: Yes, hello everyone :) kika: yes! we’re so excited <33 all of the wags and respective drivers should be in this groupchat :D

seeing this groupchat made you confused, yes you were max’s best friend but you were certainly not a wag and very certain that you weren’t a driver. so, you sent a text.

you: hi guys, i appreciate the gesture but i am not a wag and certainly not a driver HAHA

lily m: oh yeah! alex told me to add you bc we thought that you would want to surprise max considering you guys are best friends HAHAHAH my bad i should’ve clarified

alexandra: welcome y/n! it’s great to have u here :]

you: no worries guys, but max’s birthday isn’t until almost two weeks from now were you guys planning a big party?

charles: I’m not sure what we want to do but considering it’s Autumn break when it’s his actual birthday, we wanted to start early.

lily z: we *could* plan a big party, but what do u think y/n? u know him best

you: i think a big party could suit him best lots of gin & tonic must i add

carlos: HAHA Of course.

the chats continued to flow in as all of the wags and some of their drivers tried to plan what felt best for max’s birthday party. it was a few hours before the race and you had assumed not all of the drivers had their phones on them which explained the lack of texts coming from them, it wasn’t abnormal. they were usually busy with their last minute content for their social media platforms or doing pre-race interviews.

then your phone rang, it was an incoming call.

“hello?” you spoke softly into the phone after picking up, knowing exactly who called.

“hi,” max breathed out softly, you could hear the hustle and bustle of the paddock in the background. max always made it a habit to call you a few hours before the race start, and it warmed your heart to think that he always thought of you before the races.

you didn’t know when the feelings started, was it his seventeenth birthday where he kissed you before his race? was it the promise that he would always be by your side and support you when you got your first job? was it when he convinced you to move to monaco and helped you move in with your sister? was it the soft glances he would shoot your way when you were at the paddock? or was it the small touches he would give when you guys were watching a movie? you didn’t know. all you knew that he was your best friend and you didn’t want to fuck this friendship up.

“hey, how are you?” you replied, “the pre-race nerves getting to you maxie?”

“never. how’s it in monaco? how are jimmy and sassy?” max had asked, he had asked you to babysit his cats for you and you accepted. you loved nothing more than to watch over his cats while tending to your work.

“s’good. the cats are well-behaved, and i’m lounging in your sim racing gear about to turn it on and experience the race myself,” you joked, knowing that you were nowhere near the sim racing setup that he had for himself.

“i told you not to touch that,” max warned, you could tell he was walking around just by the sound of him talking and being slightly out of breath, “i miss you being here on the weekends, when are you off work?”

“i’m kidding,” you laughed as you got into a more comfortable position on his couch, “i dunno when i’m scheduled for time off again. i also do not have the money to continue to travel around the world to watch your races, max. i am comfortable with watching your races from monaco.” “how many times do i have to tell you that you can fly with me and stay with me while you’re out?” max reprimanded you for even thinking about the expenses, “you could even quit your job and do nothing and i could still have money leftover.”

you hated when he brought that up, he had always brought up the idea of you quitting your job and him helping you through your family’s struggles. you didn’t want to feel like a leech, you knew that his job was stressful enough, you didn’t want to be a stress on him and affect his job. “i am not a leech–”

“you are not leeching if i’m telling you to quit your job and come accompany me through my race schedule. it’s nice to have a support system around…” max’s voice trailed off, “seeing the other drivers with their girlfriends– friends makes me jealous.”

you were quiet for a bit, you’ve had this conversation one too many times with him before. he had told you to just live life and be with him, to stop thinking about the expenses and just be there for him but something about having your entire life being paid for by an extremely rich dutchman just didn’t sit right with you.

“i told you i’d think about it, plus you can invite all of the friends you want. it doesn’t have to be specifically me,” you sighed, rubbing your temples, “it’s not a nice feeling having to rely on someone 24/7 you know. you should understand how i feel as well.”

“i understand,” max sighed as well through the line, then you could hear him a bit farther away talking to one of the staff walking with him, you were assuming that they were on the way to the motorhome, “anyways, i’m on my way to film some content and i just wanted to see how you’re holding up at home."

you hummed back a response, listening intently to what he had to say, knowing that he would want to talk to you more before having to begrudgingly film content for the red bull racing’s social media platforms, “can you at least promise me that you will give me an answer after autumn break?”

you knew that autumn break was after the race he was at right now, which was in singapore.

“max…” your voice trailed off, you didn’t know if you could make that decision in less than a month, “look, i said i’d think about it–” “but you’ve been thinking about it for three months, isn’t three months enough to make up your mind?” max cut you off, he hated it when you were stalling even though he knew that deep in your heart you would never come and just live off his expenses.

“we’re not having this conversation now,” you huffed, almost feeling frustrated now from max’s persistence, “how about you focus on the race and we can talk about this when you’re back?” “you always shut me out when it comes to hard decisions,” max replied back with the same attitude, “it’s such a bad habit, it pisses me off and it’s not like i’m asking you for a hard thing–” “just focus on the race. it’s your job. let me focus and enjoy mine, please. we can talk about this later when you’re back and you’ll have your answer then,” you almost begged him, you heard him say his goodbyes before shutting off the line. it was too early in the morning for him to be bargaining with you about your job– it wasn’t even bargaining anymore. he was practically begging you to quit your job to come to races with him full-time.

you didn’t necessarily have a hard job, sometimes you would attend the grand prix because you were working under a marketing firm in monaco and that would enable you to come to the races but it wasn’t all the time. your marketing firm worked closely with formula 1, but they had their main focuses and it didn’t allow you to attend and take time off work all of the time.

you estimated that it would be around 3 pm at singapore, which meant it was 5 hours to go before the main race.

rubbing on your temples was a habit you had when you got stressed and it made you stressed even thinking about quitting your job. you liked your job and your co-workers and the pay wasn’t bad.

you had basically promised him that you would give him an answer after he got home in monaco which made you make a decision under pressure. a ding from your phone distracted you from the problem at hand.

lily z: @/you how long would it take you to come to singapore? you: woah so suddenly?

kika: we thought we would just celebrate his birthday after the race, since we all can’t be in monaco at his exact birthday date what do u think y/n?

you: i dunno… okay kinda tmi but max has been bugging me about quitting my job to come and accompany him to the races fulltime but i told him i would give him a decision after the race i don’t think i’m ready to make a decision that quickly

alex: damn… we thought that it would be easier to celebrate in singapore instead of planning the party in monaco

you: it would certainly be easier all around but idk if i can face him so soon

lily m: i mean… is quitting ur job to hang out with us 24/7 rlly a bad idea HAHAH

you: honestly i would love to just hang out with u guys and just make it my job but i don’t wanna make it seem like i’m leeching off of max yk…

carmen: hi! i just caught up w everything but honestly, do what u feel comfortable with doing x if u don’t feel comfortable w cmg to singapore, then we’ll make ourselves available at an agreed date in monaco <3

alexandra: yeah, i agree ^^

lily z: honestly it all comes down to u y/n we all want everyone to b comfortable!

you: i don’t wanna be a nuisance, so i’ll take u guys up on that offer

alexandra: yay! so… book ur flight now..?

carmen: u better be ready bbg HAHAHAH

rebecca: wait what’s happening i just checked my phone

you stifled a laugh at rebecca’s late response but sighed, you guessed it was now or never.

you booked the first earliest flight from monaco to singapore, not forgetting about max’s cats and leaving them to your sister who lived together with you a few doors down.

but being on a flight to singapore meant that you had to miss watching the singapore gp altogether, only arriving in singapore at 8 am the next day.

you yawned and stretched as you got off the airplane, not forgetting to turn your phone back on to see a barrage of texts from max and from the group chat.

maxie <3: P2 Y/n :) Were u watching? Wish u were here :(

maxie <3: Hello? Is ur phone off? Why are my texts green?

maxie <3: I’m starting to get worried I texted your sister and she said she had no idea where u are

maxie <3: Can u please answer me, I’m really worried.

you giggled a bit from max’s flood of texts, but you and the girls had discussed that it would be a good idea to surprise him with your arrival in singapore. you told your boss that you were taking paid time off for the week as you knew that you would be traveling with the wags and drivers for the week to celebrate the autumn break.

alexandra and rebecca were the ones to pick you up from the airport, all three of you catching up and gossiping about what happened at the track while you were in the air.

“honestly, it was crazy to see mclaren finally starting to dominate the track this time of the year. usually we would see ferrari and red bull fighting but i guess they had the better car,” alexandra mumbled as you all sat together in the car.

“i expected max to win, but that’s a bit biased isn’t it?” you laughed, “he complained about the car a couple of times throughout the free practices but i wouldn’t know shit about the car. i’ve never driven one.” “yeah, carlos does it to me all the time and i’m sitting there pretending i know everything about the cars,” rebecca added onto that thought, “like yes babe, i know exactly what you’re talking about because being an f1 wag dictates that you know everything about the car you’re driving.” the three of you laughed.

it wasn’t long before you guys reached the club that you guys planned to have the big surprise party, lily z and m were there with kika and carmen. the boys were keeping max busy for the day.

it wasn’t long before the club was decorated and fit for the surprise party, you had booked out the entire club for the night to celebrate. it was nearing the time that max would arrive with the party of drivers.

“okay, so lando told max that they were celebrating his win again tonight so max shouldn’t be suspicious about what’s going on. considering lando’s quite the party animal,” lily z had told the group as they were sitting around the booth, you nodded and listened along well while guests from the teams were shuffling into the club.

honestly, you were a bit nervous facing max. you didn’t know if you were ready to completely quit your job, but you told yourself that you would talk about it later once the time comes. there wasn’t a point to stress about it now when max was nowhere in sight.

maxie <3: Y/n? Are my texts going through? Where are you?? I’m gonna call your phone flashed to see max was calling you. you picked it up and the first thing you hear was max panicking, “hello? where the hell have you been the past day? why haven’t you returned any of my calls or texts?” “well hello to you too,” you laughed, “i’m sorry about not responding to you, i’ve been busy with work. i’m currently at a work event. congrats on p2 by the way, i couldn’t watch the race because i was at the office.” “don’t ever do that again, you scared the shit out of me,” max breathed out, you could faintly hear the chatter of the drivers behind him.

“what are you doing right now?” you asked, feigning innocence, acting as if you didn’t know exactly where he was and what he was doing right now.

“lando wanted to celebrate his win again tonight so we’re going to a club to party,” max explained, “we’re arriving now, i’ll talk to you again later but you better respond straight away or i’m flying straight home.” “okay, okay. stay safe max,” you clicked the phone off before you signaled everyone to turn off the lights and get into positions to surprise max.

the doors of the club opened to reveal the drivers of the grid.

“why are the lights off–” “surprise!” everyone had shouted as max was front and center, the lights switched on to reveal the birthday balloons and you were there in front of the boys with the wags behind you. his face was priceless, the shock and the realization all hitting him at once. the realization that you were there and you weren’t at a work event but here, in the flesh, in front of him. it made him ecstatic.

you flashed a bright smile to max as he ran and hugged you almost instantly.

“you’re so sneaky,” max breathed out, you could feel his hot breath next to your ear, making goosebumps rise in its wake, “you made me so worried to only show up here…” you could only laugh and hugged him back tightly, his hug, his touch, it made you feel alive. his touch was electrifying– in a good way. his touches, whether light or full blown hand holding or his arm around your shoulder always lit you up like a lightbulb.

“i wanted to surprise you– well, everyone did. they thought it would be more convenient for me to come here and surprise you,” you laughed, “so, are you surprised?”

“hell yeah, let’s get this fucking party started!”

“so, about you quitting your job,” max tried to sneak the conversation in as the both of you were walking to his hotel, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. they just had a really good fucking party and both of you were quite tipsy but sober enough to navigate your way through the streets of singapore (with the help of google maps).

“you’re a very persistent man,” you laughed as you walked alongside max, shoulders brushing against each other. it was almost 4 am, but you didn’t feel unsafe or scared at all. spending the night with max was what you really enjoyed. he made you feel things that you were scared of addressing, so for now you were going to enjoy the moment.

“seriously, you told me after the race and this is definitely after the race. so tell me, did you decide what you’re going to do?” max grabbed your wrist to stop the both of you from walking, you guys could see the hotel from this distance but he wanted to sincerely talk to you, “are you going to slave your life away, working from paycheck to paycheck and only coming to my races when you have the time? or are you going to agree with me and just ‘leech’ off of me?”

you sighed and turned to look at max, you couldn’t lie that the life he offered was enticing. not having to work a day in your life and still coming to these flashy grand prix and partying almost every week was a dream for most people and you were most people. “i dunno max, i told you i would give it a thought but you know how i feel about me living off of your money,” you locked eyes with max’s bright blue ones and he stepped closer to you, landing a hand on your cheek endearingly. the way he looked at you full of unconditional love, you couldn’t tell whether it was romantic or platonic anymore. you knew max and you knew that max would do anything for the people you loved and you were included in that list.

“if you’re thinking about family back at home, you know i can always send over some as well right? i know that’s your biggest concern,” max looked deep into your eyes and you could almost feel like he was looking into your soul, “i know you’re scared of leaving your work behind because you still need to support your family back home and you wanna know something? they’re my family too, i would send them money even if you didn’t ask.” max’s other hand found its way to hold yours, “please… just do this one thing for me. i always see the other drivers with their significant others and it pains me to see that you’re the only one not there and breaking your back to work. i just want you to support me and have fun while doing it…”

“max…”

“i’m serious,” max’s face grew ever so close to your own, you couldn’t tell whether the heat on your cheeks was from the proximity of the both of you or from the lingering alcohol, “you know i’d do anything for you and i don’t do that for a lot of people– you’re not a lot of people.”

“if i say okay, will that make you happy?” “the happiest man in the world.”

“consider this a birthday gift then birthday boy,” you breathed out and as you finished you sentence, you felt his lips on your own.

the kiss was electrifying– he was electrifying. his other hand that was clasping your hand softly was now on your other cheek, deepening the kiss. your hands found their way wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

to a rare passerby, the two of you were just a sweet couple sharing a kiss at 4 am and maybe, that’s what you were.

“you don’t know how long i’ve been wanting to do that for.” “ditto.”

#max verstappen fic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x yn #max verstappen oneshot #max verstappen fanfic #leclarifies fics

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