#How I Won My Ex Boyfriend Back

[mononijikayu]

amnesia — ryomen sukuna.

“Are you… are you playing a joke on me?” Sukuna’s voice wavered slightly as he tried to comprehend the situation. “It’s me. Sukuna. We… we know each other.” You shook your head slowly, an apologetic smile tugging at your lips. “I’m really sorry, but I don’t remember you. I had a really bad accident a few years ago, and… well, I lost my memories. Amnesia. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: sfw, fluff, angst, romance, hurt/ comfort, post - break up, amnesia, hurt, physical touch, memory loss, sadness, pain, pining, slowly getting back together, light-hearted, happy ending, getting back together, depictions of amnesia, depiction of pining, mention of grief, mention of accident, mention of pining, ex-boyfriend! sukuna, amnesiac! ex-girlfriend! reader, domestic uncle sukuna!, nephew!yuji;

WORD COUNT: 9.9k words

NOTE: the entire chapter is a sequel to drunk tonight and is set five years later. sukuna won second place at the poll again and i feel like this is my apology for sukuna for always making him an angst main lead. this was inspired by a filipino film called amnesia girl and its a funny drama-romcom. its available on youtube, but i dont know if there's subtitles!!! anyway, i hope you enjoy this and i hope you know how much i love yall 🫶🫶🫶

ADDENDUM: so......so long sukuna??? (manga readers iykyk)

masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 1000;

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HE LIKED TO THINK HE COUNTED THE HOW LONG IT HAS BEEN WELL. Five long and painful years ago, you and Sukuna parted ways in what felt like an explosion of unresolved emotions and unmet expectations. Your relationship had been a tempestuous blend of fiery passion and constant turbulence, a rollercoaster of intense highs and devastating lows. From the beginning, it was clear that both of you had strong personalities, often clashing in ways that seemed impossible to reconcile.

The reasons for the breakup were numerous and complex. There was the perpetual danger that came with Sukuna's world, a constant reminder that you were living on the edge, with no guarantee of safety or stability. His life was fraught with peril, and the reality of that danger had taken its toll on both of you. You both knew that living under such stress was unsustainable, and it began to fray the bonds that had once held you together.

Your expectations, too, weighed heavily on the relationship. You had dreams and aspirations that seemed at odds with the life you were leading alongside Sukuna. The demands of his world often overshadowed your own needs, leading to a sense of neglect and disillusionment. It felt as though you were always putting yourself second, trying to accommodate the chaos that was Sukuna's life while struggling to maintain your own sense of self.

Despite the chaos and the inevitable breakdown, there was an undeniable connection between you—a bond that neither of you could completely sever. It was a connection that defied logic, a thread that seemed to pull you back together despite all efforts to move on. Both of you had tried to let go, to walk away and start anew, but the lingering feelings and shared history made it nearly impossible to fully break free.

Sukuna, in his own way, struggled with this as well. Even though the relationship had reached its breaking point, he found himself unable to completely let go of what you had shared. He was deeply aware of the toll that the relationship had taken on you, and he knew that you needed to prioritize yourself, your own well-being, and your own path forward. It was a painful realization, one that left him feeling hollow and lost, but he was determined not to be the reason you couldn't move forward.

In his mind, letting you go was the only way to truly show his love for you—to give you the space you needed to heal and grow. Even if it meant enduring his own misery, he accepted that it was a sacrifice he had to make. He knew that holding on would only serve to drag you both down further, and he wasn't willing to be the obstacle in your pursuit of happiness.

So, as time passed and the separation became a part of your history, Sukuna endured his own internal struggle. He remained in the shadows of your life, silently wishing for your happiness while grappling with his own feelings of loss and regret. He respected your decision and tried to move forward, even as he kept a part of himself tied to the memories of what once was.

But even then, you were truly something that made his life more than it was. You were the blossoms of his youth, the hope and vibrancy that had once colored his world. Your presence had breathed life into the mundane, transforming his days from mere existence into something filled with possibility and wonder. 

His elder brother Jin had seen it all those years ago, recognizing the profound impact you had on Sukuna. Jin had often remarked on how you were a beacon of hope, a light that guided Sukuna through the darkest corners of his life. Your influence was undeniable, a force that had shaped him in ways he could hardly articulate.

Yet despite the depth of his feelings and the significance of what you had shared, Sukuna couldn’t escape the gnawing belief that he had ultimately failed you. He carried with him the heavy burden of the notion that he wasn’t good enough—never had been, never would be. The weight of this conviction was a constant companion, a shadow that loomed over every thought and action.

He remembered the countless moments of doubt, the times when he felt that his flaws, his imperfections, and the dangers of his world were too great a burden for you to bear. It was a painful realization, one that left him grappling with feelings of inadequacy. He wanted to be the person who could give you everything you deserved—love, stability, safety. But he feared that he fell short, that he could never truly be the partner you needed.

Even as he watched you move forward, find your own path, and build a life without him, he was haunted by the belief that he had let you down. He was acutely aware of all the ways he had failed to meet your expectations, to protect you from the chaos that had once defined your life together. He thought that perhaps he had been too caught up in his own struggles, too consumed by the demands of his world to fully appreciate what he had with you.

In his quieter moments, Sukuna wrestled with the idea that he would never be good enough for you, that he would never be able to offer you the kind of love and life you truly deserved. This belief became a part of him, shaping how he viewed himself and how he measured his worth. He felt that he had lost you not because of any one mistake or shortcoming, but because he was fundamentally flawed, incapable of providing the kind of relationship you needed.

And so, even as he grappled with his own pain and regrets, he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were better off without him. The memory of what you had shared lingered like a bittersweet echo, a reminder of what could have been and what was lost. He had to come to terms with the fact that he might never be able to offer you the life you deserved, and that acceptance was a hard, painful lesson he had to learn.

Sukuna's struggle with these feelings was a testament to the depth of his love for you, a love that, despite its imperfections and its failures, had once been a source of profound meaning and transformation in his life. Even as he moved forward, he carried the weight of this truth with him—a reminder of what you had meant to him and the painful realization that, perhaps, he would never truly be good enough to have you back.

Sukuna sat in the corner of the room, a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand, as he listened to his friend's banter. The atmosphere was lighter than it had been in years. Gojo, with his usual grin, was recounting some ridiculous tale of his latest escapade, while Uraume, ever the quiet observer, occasionally chimed in with dry comments that had the others laughing.

But Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t really paying attention. His mind kept drifting back to you—to the way your eyes had softened when you told him you wanted to give “us” a real chance, to the way you’d leaned into him, trusting and vulnerable in a way that made his chest tighten.

“Oi, Sukuna. You’re….” Gojo’s voice cut through his thoughts. “You’re awfully quiet tonight, bud. What's got you all broody, huh?”

Sukuna blinked, realizing he’d been staring into his glass for who knows how long. He knows he spaces out when he’s thinking, but when he’s thinking of you — he suppose the time can go on and he wouldn’t even notice. He looked up to find Gojo’s bright blue eyes fixed on him, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. Uraume was watching him too, their expression unreadable but attentive.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Sukuna muttered, taking a sip of his drink. “Just thinking.”

“That’s a first from you, hm.”  Uraume teased, earning a snort from Gojo.

“Come on, spill it!” Gojo pressed, leaning forward with that infuriatingly playful grin. “Is it a girl? I don’t mind if it’s a guy, I know you swing that way too! Oh, wait… don’t tell me it’s the girl.”

Sukuna’s dark scarlet eyes narrowed at him. “What are you talking about?”

Gojo’s grin widened. “The one you’ve been moping about for the last five years. Don’t think I didn’t notice, Sukuna. You’ve been different at work lately—quieter, more… I don’t know, introspective.”

“Gojo–san’s right, Sukuna–san.” Uraume added, their tone softer. “You’ve changed. It’s like you’re finally letting go of whatever it was that had you so wound up.”

Sukuna leaned back in his chair, feeling the weight of their words settle over him. He wasn’t used to being the one on the receiving end of their scrutiny, and he didn’t like it. But he also knew they weren’t wrong.

“Yeah, well……” Sukuna began, his voice rough, “I haven't seen her in a long while.. Five years, I think. But I heard…I heard she’s been around. She’s moved around town.”

Uraume raised their eyebrows. “Five years? That’s a long time, Sukuna–san.”

“Yeah. We were together throughout our senior high school and college. Then we broke up after we graduated.” Sukuna sighed, taking a long sip of his drink. The alcohol burned as it slid down his throat, but it did little to ease the ache that had settled in his chest. “It’s been a long time, but… hearing that she’s moved here just brings back a lot.”

Gojo’s eyes widened in surprise. “Was that breakup really that bad?” His usual grin faded, replaced by a look of concern as he sensed the gravity of Sukuna’s words. “What happened?”

Sukuna nodded, his gaze drifting away from Gojo’s intense stare. The room seemed to grow quieter as he delved into the past, the weight of his memories heavy in his voice. “We had multiple breakups. It wasn’t just one—there were several. But the last one was particularly rough. We both cried a lot, said things we didn’t mean. It was messy.”

Gojo leaned in, his curiosity piqued. “Why was it so difficult?”

Sukuna’s face tightened as he struggled to find the right words. “If I’m being honest, it’s my fault. I wasn’t secure in myself. I was jealous, possessive. I couldn’t handle the idea of her moving forward or being happy without me. And that jealousy, that insecurity—it hurt her more than I realized.”

There was a long pause as Sukuna’s confession hung in the air. Gojo’s usual bravado was replaced by a rare, contemplative silence. He took a moment to process Sukuna’s admission, trying to reconcile the man he knew with the vulnerability being revealed.

“That’s a lot to carry,” Gojo said finally, his voice softer than usual. “But it sounds like you’re taking responsibility, which is more than a lot of people do.”

Sukuna’s expression was a mix of regret and acceptance. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t change the past. I know I hurt her, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make up for that fully. But seeing her again… it’s brought everything back. The pain, the regret, and the memories of what we had.”

Uraume, who had been quietly listening, spoke up, their tone gentle. “It’s clear you’re still affected by this. Maybe it’s a chance for you to make things right, or at least find some closure. People change, and sometimes, revisiting the past can help us understand ourselves better.”

Sukuna nodded, though his expression remained somber. “Maybe. I’m not sure what will come of this. I just know that seeing her again made me realize how much I still care, how much I’ve changed, and how much I wish things could have been different.”

Gojo leaned back, his eyes thoughtful. “It sounds like you’ve been through a lot, and maybe this is a chance for you to show her the person you’ve become. It might not fix everything, but it could be a step toward healing—for both of you.”

Sukuna’s gaze softened, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “Yeah, maybe. It’s worth a shot.”

The room fell silent, the playful atmosphere dissolving as the weight of Sukuna's words sank in. Even Gojo, who was usually quick with a joke or a teasing remark, seemed at a loss for what to say. His usual bravado was replaced with something more thoughtful, almost solemn, as he processed what Sukuna had just revealed.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft clink of ice in Sukuna's glass as he set it down on the table. He could feel the eyes of his friends on him, but he kept his gaze fixed on the drink, not ready to meet their concerned looks just yet. The silence stretched on, thick with unspoken emotions.

“I hope the best for you, man.” Gojo finally muttered, leaning back in his chair as he exhaled slowly. His tone was softer than usual, lacking its typical teasing edge. “You deserve to be happy too.”

Sukuna snickered. “You must be drunk being this nice to me.”

“Hey! I am nice at all times.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

Uraume, who had been listening quietly, leaned forward slightly, their expression gentle and understanding. They had always been more in tune with Sukuna's moods, more aware of the nuances in his behavior than Gojo, who often masked his own sensitivity with humor.

“If you bump into her again, though….” Uraume asked, their tone devoid of judgment, only curiosity and concern. “Would you try and talk to her, then?”

Sukuna finally looked up, meeting Uraume’s gaze. There was a hesitance in his eyes, as if he was still grappling with the reality of it all. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low, almost as if admitting it aloud made it more real. “I would. In a drop of a hat.”

The confession hung in the air, heavy with the weight of all the unspoken feelings that had built up over the years. It wasn’t just the fact that you had come back into his life; it was the realization that despite everything, despite the time and distance, Ryomen Sukuna had never really let go of you. He had buried those feelings deep, tried to move on, but now that you were here again, they had all come rushing back to the surface.

Gojo watched Sukuna carefully, his usual smirk gone, replaced with a rare expression of empathy. He knew Sukuna better than most, knew how much pride had always driven him, how hard it had been for him to admit his feelings even when things were good between the two of you. For Sukuna to open up like this now, it meant that whatever he was feeling ran deep.

“I get it.” Gojo said, his voice unusually quiet. “I mean, you guys were… well, you were everything to each other. It makes sense that she’s still on your mind.”

Uraume nodded in agreement. “It’s not surprising that you still think about her, Sukuna–san. What you had wasn’t just something you can forget, even if you wanted to.”

Sukuna’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, staring off into the distance as if trying to collect his thoughts. “It’s just… weird.” he finally said, his voice thick with the frustration he’d been holding back. “I’ve been trying to move on, to put all of that behind me. But I just….I want to see her again. Even just one more time.”

Gojo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he regarded Sukuna with a serious expression. “Maybe you’re not supposed to forget, man. Maybe this is your chance to figure out what you really want, to make things right.”

Uraume added quietly, “It’s not too late to change the narrative, Sukuna. If you still care about her, if she’s still on your mind after all this time, maybe there’s something there worth exploring.”

Sukuna closed his eyes for a moment, taking in their words. There was truth in what they were saying, and he knew it. He had spent so long trying to bury his feelings, convincing himself that it was over and done with. But the truth was, he had never truly moved on. And now, with you back in his life, even in this new, unfamiliar way, he couldn’t ignore the pull he felt toward you.

When he opened his eyes, there was a resolve in them that hadn’t been there before. “You’re probably right.” he admitted, his voice steady. “I’ve been running from this for too long. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I need to see this through. I owe it to myself, and… to her.”

Gojo’s grin returned, but it was softer, more genuine. “That’s the spirit, man. You’ve got this. Just… don’t screw it up this time, okay?”

Sukuna let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’ll try not to.”

Uraume smiled softly, a rare display of emotion from them. “We’re here for you, Sukuna–san. Whatever you need, just say the word.”

Sukuna nodded, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he wasn’t alone in this. With Gojo and Uraume by his side, he knew he could face whatever came next, even if it meant confronting the feelings he had buried for so long.

One more drink and  the conversation shifted back to lighter topics, the tension that had hung in the air slowly dissipated. But the resolve in Sukuna’s heart remained, stronger than ever. He knew what he had to do, and for the first time in years, he felt ready to face it head-on,

As the night wore on, Sukuna couldn’t help but think about the future—about what it would be like to build something real with you this time, something lasting. The thought scared him, but it also excited him in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

Maybe, just maybe, this time he could get it right. And with Gojo and Uraume by his side, he knew he wouldn’t have to do it alone. But the hour is late. And they’ve got things going on in their lives too. So they pay their bills and wave him goodbye.

As he watches his comrades pair off, he is forced to confront a painful truth. Despite years of searching, no one has been able to replace you. The women he's met, the flings he's had—they were all distractions, mere shadows compared to what he had with you. Each time he tries to move forward, your memory pulls him back, the echo of your laughter, the way you challenged him like no one else ever did, and the warmth you once brought into his life, all refuse to fade.

In quiet moments, when he's alone, Ryomen Sukuna wrestles with the possibility that his true love, the one person who could truly understand and match his intensity, might have been you all along. The very thought frustrates and angers him, but deep down, he knows it's true. The idea that you could be happy with someone else, that you could have moved on, is a bitter pill to swallow.

But what can he do? Could he really go back to you after all this time, after all the hurt and pride that kept you apart? The thought of reaching out, of admitting that he hasn't been able to stop thinking about you, is terrifying in its vulnerability. Yet, the more he tries to resist, the more he finds himself wanting you back in his life.

Sukuna has always been a man of action, but this...this is different. It's not about power or control; it's about something far more fragile—his heart, his pride, and the chance of losing you all over again. The question that haunts him now is whether he can swallow that pride and take the risk, whether he can open himself up to the possibility that, just maybe, what he’s been searching for all these years was right in front of him all along.

And that possibility, terrifying as it may be, is the only thing that has ever truly scared him.

Sukuna's inner turmoil grows as the days pass. The world around him, once filled with the thrill of battles and the allure of endless conquests, now feels hollow and cold. He notices how his friends look at him, their eyes reflecting pity and concern. They know him too well, aware that behind his sharp words and defiant attitude, something is eating away at him.

He tries to brush it off, burying himself in work, in fights, in anything that will distract him. But no matter how hard he tries, his thoughts keep circling back to you. The memories come unbidden—your smile, the way you used to tease him, the way you understood him in a way no one else ever did. It's maddening, the way you haunt him, and yet he can't bring himself to let you go.

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IT WAS UNEXPECTED. It was that sort of day once again. Sukuna found himself in charge of his energetic nephew, Yuji, who had just been picked up from school. With his brother Jin and sister-in-law Kaori and Choso tied up with commitments for the weekend, Sukuna was left to manage Yuji. Given that he didn’t have to hit the gym or deal with work obligations that day, it seemed like a manageable task.

Ryomen Sukuna’s house was usually a quiet refuge from his chaotic world, but today it felt oddly empty. He doesn’t really like decorating that much, mostly because he has no time and mostly because he really doesn’t feel like it. But his nephew doesn’t seem to mind it every time he’s here. If there was something to distract the brat, then he doesn’t pay attention to everything else. Well, that and food. As he settled Yuji into the living room, Yuji’s curiosity quickly turned to hunger.

“Uncle Sukuna, I’m starving.” Yuji announced, making a beeline for the kitchen. “Do you have any natto? I could really go for some.”

Sukuna blinked, momentarily confused. “Natto? I don’t think I have any. Let me check.”

He shuffled into the kitchen, opening the fridge and peering inside. His search yielded nothing but a few cans of expired beans and a half-eaten pizza box. Sukuna eats out most of the time, because of work. If he does buy anything, it would be from the last time Yuji was here. And that was….a while ago. And just as much, there was no natto in sight.

“Uh, brat, I think we’re out of natto.” Sukuna said, returning to the living room with a sheepish grin. “And it looks like the rest of the fridge is pretty bare.”

Yuji’s eyes widened in disappointment. “But I was really looking forward to it!”

Sukuna rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Looks like we’ll need to go out for groceries. How about we make it an adventure?”

Yuji’s face lit up at the prospect of an outing. “Okay! Can we get some ice cream too?”

Sukuna chuckled, relieved that Yuji’s mood had brightened. “Sure, ice cream it is. Let’s get going before your hunger turns into a full-blown meltdown, brat.”

As they left the house, Sukuna and Yuji made their way to the nearby supermarket. Yuji’s excitement was palpable, his small hands gripping the shopping cart handle as he eagerly pointed out various items he wanted to add to the list. Sukuna, trying to keep up, found himself both amused and exasperated by Yuji’s relentless energy and enthusiasm.

In the aisles of the supermarket, Sukuna pushed the cart while Yuji darted from one section to another, collecting snacks, fruits, and—of course—several packs of natto. Sukuna grabbed a few essentials and, true to his word, added some ice cream to the cart.

As they approached the checkout line, Sukuna glanced at Yuji, who was happily munching on a sample cookie from the store. The small bit of chocolate on Yuji’s cheek made him look even more cherubic and endearing. Sukuna’s lips twitched into a small smile, a rare moment of warmth slipping through his usually stoic facade.

“You know, I think I might need to keep a better stock of food for next time,” Sukuna said, his tone light.

Yuji, still with cookie crumbs on his face, grinned up at him. “And more natto!”

Sukuna couldn’t help but chuckle. The idea of having to stockpile natto just to keep his nephew happy was a new one, but it seemed like a worthwhile endeavor. He ruffled Yuji’s hair affectionately, feeling a soft, genuine affection for the boy.

“You’ve got it, brat. More natto it is.” Sukuna agreed, a rare, relaxed smile on his face.

As they loaded their groceries onto the conveyor belt, Sukuna glanced around, realizing how normal and mundane the experience was compared to the high-stakes, dangerous life he usually led. The simplicity of shopping for food and sharing a lighthearted moment with Yuji was both refreshing and oddly comforting.

Yuji, ever the energetic child, started pointing out items in the store with increasing enthusiasm. “Uncle Sukuna, look! They have those gummy candies you like!” 

Sukuna gave a half-hearted, amused shrug. “Sure, toss them in. I guess I can indulge a bit today.”

As they made their way through the aisles, Yuji chatted away, filling the silence with stories about school and his friends. Sukuna wasn’t really paying attention, his mind elsewhere, when something—or rather, someone—caught his eye.

There, at the end of the aisle, stood a familiar figure. The sight stopped Sukuna in his tracks, his eyes widening in disbelief. It was you.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. He watched as you browsed through the shelves, seemingly lost in thought. Your presence, once a distant memory, felt so strikingly real that Sukuna’s heart skipped a beat. The years seemed to melt away as he took in the sight of you.

At first, he didn’t recognize you. It was just a fleeting glimpse, the way your hair caught the light, the familiar way you moved. But then, as you reached for something on a high shelf, he saw your face, and his heart stopped.

It was you.

He couldn’t believe it at first. He thought maybe it was someone who just looked like you, or perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him, dredging up memories he’d tried so hard to bury. But the more he stared, the more certain he became. It was you.

Yuji, noticing Sukuna’s sudden pause, looked up. “Uncle Sukuna, what’s wrong?”

Sukuna swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure. “Uh, nothing, brat. Let’s just finish up here.”

But his gaze was fixed on you, unable to look away. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and Sukuna fought with the urge to approach you, unsure of what to say or do. The familiar mix of excitement and anxiety churned within him, a reminder of the past he had tried so hard to reconcile.

Yuji, still unaware of the significance of the moment, tugged on Sukuna’s sleeve. “Uncle Sukuna, can we go over there? I want to check if they have those chocolates I like!”

Sukuna nodded absently, allowing Yuji to lead him towards the end of the aisle where you stood. As they drew closer, Sukuna braced himself, trying to steady his racing heart. He needed to act normal, to approach you calmly despite the flood of emotions.

Without thinking, he handed the shopping basket to Yuji and began walking toward you. The world around him seemed to blur, the noise of the supermarket fading into the background. It was just you and him, the years that had passed suddenly meaningless.

When he reached you, he hesitated, unsure of what to say. His mind raced, a thousand questions and emotions fighting for dominance. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t prepared for the possibility of seeing you again. But now that you were right in front of him, he couldn’t just walk away.

“Is that you?” He finally said it. He finally said your name. He could feel his entire body shake from nervousness. He didn’t notice until he said it that his voice was rougher than he intended.

You turned to him, blinking in confusion. Your eyes met his, and for a brief, electrifying moment, Sukuna saw the spark of recognition. It was fleeting, but it was there—an almost imperceptible flicker that hinted at a shared past. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a polite, detached expression.

“I’m sorry, but…” you began, your voice soft and apologetic. “Do I know you?”

The words hit Sukuna like a punch to the gut. The confusion on your face made no sense to him; how could you not remember him? The realization was like a cold wave crashing over him. He scanned your face more closely, noting the faint scar near your temple and the way your eyes seemed to search his face for something familiar but found nothing.

“Are you… are you playing a joke on me?” Sukuna’s voice wavered slightly as he tried to comprehend the situation. “It’s me. Sukuna. We… we know each other.”

You shook your head slowly, an apologetic smile tugging at your lips. “I’m really sorry, but I don’t remember you. I had a really bad accident a few years ago, and… well, I lost my memories. Amnesia. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Amnesia. The word hit him like a ton of bricks. All the anger, hurt, and regret that had simmered in him for years suddenly evaporated, replaced by something he couldn’t quite name. You didn’t remember him. You didn’t remember anything about your life together, the love you shared, or the pain that had driven you apart. He stared at you, struggling to process what you’d just told him. The person he’d spent years trying to forget had forgotten him completely. And it hurts. It burns. It…it kills him.

Sukuna’s heart sank as he struggled to process your words. The memories of the past, the shared moments, the intense connection—everything seemed to blur together in a confusing haze. He tried to hold onto the hope that maybe, somehow, there was a chance you might remember him later, but the reality of your situation was clear. You had no recollection of your time together.

“Right…” Sukuna muttered, his voice thick with emotions he didn’t quite know how to handle. “No, it’s… it’s fine.”

“I just… I feel like I’ve upset you,” you mumbled back, your eyes filled with sincere regret. “It’s been like this for a while. I’m really sorry.”

“No, no… it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. It was my fault,” Sukuna said, shaking his head, though the words felt hollow against the weight of his feelings.

You nodded, your gaze sympathetic. “No, please. It’s not. I understand. It must be hard to run into someone who doesn’t remember you. I’m truly sorry.”

There was a quiet moment between you, the weight of lost memories hanging heavily in the air. Sukuna, feeling the sting of both your absence and the reality of your condition, struggled to find the right words. He wanted to bridge the gap between what had been and what was now, but he found himself at a loss.

Before you could turn away, Sukuna took a deep breath, summoning the courage to speak. “Um… could I… could I have your number? Maybe… maybe we could talk sometime. If you’re okay with that.”

You looked at him, a flicker of surprise crossing your face. For a moment, you seemed to weigh his request, and then you nodded slowly. “Sure. I can give you my number. I’d like that.”

As you exchanged contact information, Sukuna felt a mixture of hope and apprehension. The act of sharing numbers was a small step, but it felt significant. It was a bridge to the possibility of rebuilding a connection, even if the past was shadowed by the uncertainty of your memory.

“Thank you,” Sukuna said quietly, his voice carrying a note of genuine gratitude. “I appreciate it.”

You gave him a warm, understanding smile. “Of course. I’ll be happy to talk whenever you’re ready. It’s… nice to have some help with my memories, even if it’s just a little.”

Before he could speak, Yuji tugged at Sukuna’s sleeve. “Uncle Sukuna, can we go home now? I’m tired.”

Sukuna glanced down at Yuji and then back at you, his heart heavy. “Yeah, Yuji. Let’s head out.”

As Sukuna began to walk away, he felt your gaze on him. The pain of seeing you again, only to find that you had no memory of their shared past, was almost too much to bear. The bittersweet encounter left him with a mix of longing and resignation. You smiled at Yuji and then to him. Yuji grinned back at you and waved back. 

“Take care.” you called softly as he left the store with Yuji. Sukuna gave a small, subdued wave in response, his mind reeling from the encounter.

Once outside, he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Yuji, noticing his uncle’s somber mood, looked up with concern. “Uncle Sukuna, are you okay?”

Sukuna forced a reassuring smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, Yuji. I’m fine. Just… a little surprised. Let’s get home.”

As they drove back, Sukuna’s thoughts were filled with the echoes of the past and the present reality. The encounter had stirred up old feelings, and the realization that you had lost your memories of him was both heartbreaking and profoundly unsettling. Yet, despite the pain, there was a strange sense of closure, as if seeing you again, even under these circumstances, had helped him come to terms with the unresolved aspects of their past.

As you walked away, Sukuna stood there, frozen in place, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Yuji came up beside him, his eyes wide with concern.

“Uncle Sukuna, are you okay? Who was that?”

Sukuna glanced at Yuji, then back at the aisle where you’d disappeared. He didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t know how to explain that the person he’d never been able to forget had forgotten him entirely.

“That,” Sukuna finally said, his voice hollow, “was someone I used to know.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

HE DOESN’T REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED AFTER. The days that followed were a blur for Sukuna. But he couldn’t help it.  Your encounter in the supermarket had shaken him in a way he hadn’t expected. He tried to push it aside, tell himself that it didn’t matter, that you were just a part of his past. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face, the way you looked at him with no recognition, no anger, no pain—just blank politeness. It haunted him.

Yet, fate seemed determined to keep throwing the two of you together. A few days later, he saw you again, this time at a coffee shop. You were sitting by the window, a book in hand, oblivious to the world around you. Sukuna hesitated, debating whether to approach you, but before he could decide, you looked up and caught his eye. There was that same polite smile, and he found himself walking over to you before he could think better of it.

“Hi again.” you said, looking up at him with that same soft, apologetic expression. “We keep running into each other, don’t we?”

“Yeah…..” he replied, his voice rough. He wasn’t sure what to say. The awkwardness between you was palpable, the weight of the past pressing down on him in a way you couldn’t feel. But you didn’t know that, couldn’t know that, so you just smiled and gestured to the seat across from you.

“Would you like to join me?” you asked, your voice gentle, offering a small, tentative smile as you gestured to a nearby café table.

Sukuna hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t sure what he was doing or why he was putting himself through this, but there was something about being near you, even if you didn’t remember him, that soothed the ache in his chest. 

“If you wouldn’t mind.” he finally said, his voice betraying the mix of emotions swirling inside him. He sat down across from you, the familiarity of the scene almost too much to bear. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. 

You giggled. “I don’t mind. Not at all.”

As you both settled in, the air between you was filled with an odd mix of tension and familiarity. You began to talk—small, inconsequential things at first. You mentioned how you liked the café’s atmosphere, how it had become one of your favorite spots since you moved here. Sukuna nodded along, trying to focus on the present moment rather than the flood of memories threatening to overwhelm him.

“You know….. “ you said after a moment, stirring your coffee absentmindedly, “it’s strange. I feel… comfortable with you. Like I’ve known you for a long time, even if I can’t remember it.”

Sukuna’s breath caught in his throat. He wanted to tell you everything—to pour out the years of pain, regret, and longing he had carried since you’d been apart. But he knew it wouldn’t be fair to burden you with memories you didn’t share anymore. So instead, he offered a small, wistful smile. 

“Maybe it’s just one of those thing.” he said softly, his eyes searching for yours. “Some people just click, I guess.”

You nodded, your gaze lingering on his face as if you were trying to piece together a puzzle. “Maybe. But still, it feels nice. Like I can trust you.”

Sukuna swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his emotions in check. “I’m glad,” he said quietly, his voice betraying the depth of his feelings despite his best efforts. “I’d like to be someone you can trust.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics after that, and the tension slowly eased. You talked about your life, your work, and the things you enjoyed. Sukuna listened intently, hanging on to every word, savoring the sound of your voice even if the stories were new to him. 

As the minutes turned into an hour, Sukuna found himself relaxing. The ache in his chest dulled, replaced by a warmth that he hadn’t felt in years. It was as if, for the first time since you had parted ways, he could breathe a little easier. There was no rush, no pressure to define what this was or what it could become. Just the simple pleasure of being in your company again, however different it might be from the past.

When you finally stood up to leave, Ryomen Sukuna felt a pang of reluctance, but he knew this wasn’t the end. You had exchanged numbers, after all, and there was a possibility that this could lead to something more. 

“I’m really glad we ran into each other.” you said, giving him a sincere smile. “I hope we can do this again sometime.”

“Me too.” Sukuna replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I’d like that.”

As you walked away, Sukuna remained seated for a moment, staring at the now-empty chair across from him. Despite the uncertainty of the future, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this was his chance to make things right—to show you the kind of love and care he should have given you all those years ago. And as he left the café, he found himself smiling, a feeling of lightness in his chest that he hadn’t felt in far too long.

Like the wind, the days brushed by into weeks, these accidental meetings became more frequent. He’d see you at the park, at the grocery store, at the small bookstore you frequented. Each time, you greeted him with the same warmth, and each time, he felt the walls he’d built around his heart start to crumble a little more.

It was during one of these encounters, when you were sitting together on a bench at the park, that Sukuna realized something had changed. He wasn’t just dwelling on the past anymore. He wasn’t just seeing you as the woman he used to love, the one who’d left him behind. You were still that person, but you were also someone new, someone who’d been through their own struggles, their own pain.

And he’d changed too. He wasn’t the same man you’d walked away from five years ago. The anger, the recklessness, the pride that had once driven you apart had mellowed. He’d grown, learned from his mistakes, and now, sitting beside you, he realized that he wanted to make things right.

There was one afternoon where after you’d both finished your coffees at that familiar café, Sukuna finally found himself gathered the courage to speak again. He’d been thinking about this for days, the words tumbling over and over in his mind until they felt like second nature.

“Hey….” he began, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

You looked at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “What is it?”

“I know you don’t remember me, or anything about… us, but I want you to know that I’m not the same person I was back then. I’ve changed. And I want to try again.” He paused, searching for the right words. “I want to make things right for you.”

There was a long silence as you absorbed his words. He could see the confusion in your eyes, the way you were trying to piece together something that felt like a missing puzzle in your mind. You wanted to know what it was. How to be complete, and yet you didn’t know how. Not even if your past thought he was what complete was. Finally, you spoke.

“Sukuna, I… I don’t know what to say. I don’t remember anything about us, about our past. But I can see that this means a lot to you, and that you’ve been carrying it with you for a long time.”

You paused, looking down at your hands, and then back at him. “I don’t know if I can ever get those memories back. But I do know that I enjoy spending time with you, that I feel comfortable around you. And maybe… maybe that’s a good place to start.”

His heart leapt at your words, hope flickering to life in a way it hadn’t in years. This was a second chance, an opportunity to rewrite the story that had once ended in heartbreak. He didn’t know what the future held, or if you would ever remember what you once had, but for the first time in a long time, he felt something close to peace.

Sukuna reached out, his hand brushing against yours, and you didn’t pull away. “Then let’s start there, hm?” he said quietly. “No pressure, no expectations. Just… us.”

You smiled, a genuine, warm smile that sent a wave of relief through him. “Just us,” you agreed.

And for the first time in five years, Sukuna felt like he was finally on the path to something real, something lasting. It wouldn’t be easy, but he was determined to prove that he could love you the way you deserved—this time, the right way.

As the weeks turned into months, Sukuna and you continued to meet, slowly rebuilding a connection that had once been lost. Each encounter felt like a tentative step forward, a cautious yet hopeful attempt to bridge the gap that had formed between you over the years. Yet, instead of the intense and sometimes overwhelming passion that had defined your past relationship, there was a newfound sense of calm and understanding between you both.

There was an ease between you now, a natural rhythm that felt different from the intense, almost chaotic bond you’d shared in the past. In the beginning, it was subtle—a shared smile over a mundane joke, the comfortable silence that fell between you as you walked side by side, the way your conversations flowed without the need to fill every gap with words. The pressure that once loomed over your relationship, demanding definitions and clarity, had dissipated, leaving space for something more genuine and unforced.

You found yourselves slipping into each other’s lives in small, almost imperceptible ways. Sukuna would pick up your favorite coffee without being asked, remembering the way you liked it just by heart. You’d invite him to a quiet dinner at your place, cooking together in the kitchen as you talked about everything and nothing. There were no grand gestures or declarations, just a quiet, steady presence that felt reassuring and right.

This time, there was no rush, no urgency to define what you were to each other. It was as if both of you understood that whatever this was, it needed to grow at its own pace. You’d learned from the past, from the way things had unraveled before, and there was an unspoken agreement that you wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. You allowed the relationship to unfold naturally, letting each moment build upon the last, like carefully stacking stones into a tower that could withstand the test of time.

Sukuna, too, had changed. The man who once wore his emotions like armor, who had always been so guarded and intense, was different now. There was a softness to him that hadn’t been there before—a willingness to listen, to be patient, to let things unfold without forcing them into place. He no longer felt the need to control every aspect of his life, and that included his relationship with you. He had learned to let go, to trust that if this was meant to be, it would be.

And in that trust, something beautiful began to grow. Your conversations deepened, moving beyond the surface-level topics that had once dominated your interactions. You talked about your dreams, your fears, the things that kept you awake at night. Sukuna shared pieces of himself that he had kept hidden for so long, opening up in ways he never had before. And you, in turn, felt safe enough to do the same.

There were moments when the past would resurface, like shadows lingering at the edges of your newfound connection. Memories of heated arguments, of painful goodbyes, would flicker in your minds, reminding you of how things had once gone wrong. But instead of letting those memories drag you down, you faced them together, acknowledging the hurt while choosing to move forward.

It wasn’t always easy. There were still days when doubts crept in, when the fear of repeating past mistakes threatened to pull you apart. But each time, you chose to stay, to work through it rather than run away. And with each challenge you faced, the bond between you grew stronger, more resilient.

Sukuna, who had once been so afraid of vulnerability, found himself looking forward to the moments he spent with you. The walls he had built around himself slowly crumbled, replaced by a quiet confidence in what you were building together. He no longer needed to prove himself, to assert control over his emotions or over you. Instead, he allowed himself to simply be—with you, in the present, without the burden of past regrets or future expectations.

You, too, noticed the change in yourself. The tension that had once gnawed at your heart, the constant questioning of whether you were enough or if this was right, had eased. You felt more secure, more at peace with where you were and where you were going. You trusted Sukuna in a way you hadn’t before, not just because he had changed, but because you had changed too.

As the months passed, the connection between you deepened, solidified by the quiet moments of understanding and the shared experiences that had brought you closer together. There was a sense of contentment that neither of you had anticipated—a feeling that, for the first time in a long time, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

And so, you continued to meet, to grow together, allowing whatever this was to take shape in its own time. There was no rush, no urgency, only the quiet certainty that what you were building was worth the patience and the effort. You both knew that the past would always be a part of you, but it no longer defined you. Instead, it had become a foundation upon which you could build something new, something lasting.

In each other’s presence, you found a kind of peace that had once seemed elusive, and in that peace, you discovered the possibility of a future that was not just better than the past, but truly, deeply right.

Sukuna found himself looking forward to your meetings, the mundane moments that had once seemed trivial now holding a new significance. Whether it was a simple walk in the park, browsing through books together, or sharing a meal, these moments began to stitch together a new story between you, one that was quieter, more deliberate, and infinitely more meaningful.

But beneath the surface, Sukuna wrestled with his own emotions. The more time he spent with you, the more he realized just how much he had missed you—how much he had missed being close to someone who truly understood him. Yet, there was also the constant reminder that you didn’t remember him, that the memories of your past were locked away, possibly forever.

One afternoon, after you’d both finished a long walk along the river, you sat together on a bench, watching the water ripple in the sunlight. The conversation had lulled into a comfortable silence, and for a moment, Sukuna just watched you, taking in the way the light caught your hair, the serene expression on your face.

“Can I ask you something?” Sukuna finally said, breaking the silence.

You turned to him, nodding. “Of course.”

“Do you ever… feel like something’s missing? Like there’s a part of you that’s still out there, waiting to be found?”

You considered his question carefully before responding. “Sometimes.” you admitted. “There are moments when I feel like I’m on the edge of remembering something important, something that’s just out of reach. But I’ve learned to let go of the frustration. I’ve had to accept that those memories might never come back.”

Sukuna’s heart clenched at your words, the weight of your shared history pressing down on him. He wanted to tell you everything—to pour out the story of your love, the highs and lows, the way you had been everything to each other and how it had all fallen apart. But he held back, knowing that it wasn’t his place to force those memories on you.

Instead, he reached out and took your hand in his. “I don’t want to push you more than I already did.” he said quietly. “I just want you to know that I’m here, whatever happens. I’m not going anywhere this time.”

You squeezed his hand, offering him a gentle smile. “I know, Sukuna. And I appreciate that. I’ve come to trust you, even if I don’t remember our past. What matters to me now is the person you are today, the one I’m getting to know all over again.”

Those words gave Sukuna a sense of hope he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time. He was no longer the man who had let his pride and anger destroy something precious. He had grown, learned from his mistakes, and now, he had a chance to show you that.

As the days passed, he became more intentional in his efforts to be there for you, to support you in ways he hadn’t before. He listened when you spoke, offered comfort when you needed it, and gave you space when you needed to process your thoughts. There was a quiet strength in the bond you were forming, a steady foundation that was being built brick by brick.

One evening, after you’d invited him over for dinner, you sat together on your couch, a comfortable silence settling between you after a long day. Sukuna glanced at you, his heart full of things he wanted to say but didn’t know how to put into words.

“I’ve been thinking….a lot.” you said suddenly, turning to face him. “About us.”

His breath caught in his throat, but he stayed quiet, waiting for you to continue. He could feel his heart pounding, the silence between you filled with unspoken tension. You looked at him tenderly, and those eyes—those eyes he had once loved so fiercely—held a warmth that stirred something deep within him. But this time, there was something different in your gaze, something he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t the same love he remembered, the love that had once consumed both of you. It was softer, more distant, as if it had been tempered by time and the loss of memories.

Sukuna wasn’t sure what that look meant, but he longed for the days when your eyes had been filled with nothing but love for him. He yearned for the intensity, the passion that had once been theirs. But deep down, he knew those days were gone, that you had changed, just as he had. And even though he wished for the impossible, he understood that the love you had once shared might never return in the way it had before.

And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from hoping, from wanting you to look at him like that again, to feel that love again. But he knew, with a sinking certainty, that it was unlikely. Maybe this was his punishment, the price he had to pay for the mistakes he had made, for the years he had spent without you. Maybe fate was just that cruel, giving him a second chance only to remind him of what he had lost.

“I don’t remember our past, Sukuna.” you said softly, breaking the silence. Your voice was gentle, but there was a sincerity in it that made Sukuna’s chest tighten. “But I do know that I feel something when I’m with you. It’s not just comfort or friendship… it’s more. I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels right, being with you.”

Sukuna’s heart swelled with emotion, a mix of relief and longing coursing through him. He had waited so long to hear those words, to know that there was still something between you, even if it wasn’t exactly what he had expected. It wasn’t the grand declaration of love he had secretly hoped for, but it was something—a spark, a glimmer of the connection that had once bound you together.

He searched your face, looking for any sign of the emotions he had once known so well. But all he found was that same tender expression, tinged with a hint of uncertainty. It wasn’t love, not yet. But it was something. And for now, that was enough.

“I’m glad you feel that way.” he said, his voice thick with the emotions he was struggling to keep in check. “I don’t want to rush things, or push you to remember something that might never come back. I just… I want to be here with you, whatever that means.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I want that too, Sukuna. I don’t know what the future holds, but I’d like to find out—together.”

He felt a weight lift off his shoulders, the heavy burden of his regrets and fears easing, if only a little. This was far from the ending he had imagined, but it was a beginning, a chance to rebuild what had been lost. And maybe, just maybe, if he was patient and if he allowed things to unfold naturally, there could be something new between you, something that was just as meaningful as what you had once shared.

As you both stood there, the world around you fading into the background, Sukuna couldn’t help but think that perhaps fate wasn’t as cruel as he had feared. Maybe this was his second chance—not to reclaim the past, but to create something new, something even better than what had been before. And for the first time in years, he allowed himself to hope that this time, he wouldn’t let it slip through his fingers.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

epilogue 

A few weeks after your heartfelt conversation with Sukuna, you find yourself at a park on a sunny afternoon. Sukuna had asked you to meet him there, mentioning that his nephew, Yuji, would be joining. You had heard a lot about Yuji from Sukuna—how the kid was full of energy, always getting into something, and how Sukuna had taken on a sort of protective role in his life. You were curious to see this side of Sukuna, the man who had once been all sharp edges and intensity.

As you approach the park, you spot Sukuna first, sitting on a bench with a somewhat exasperated look on his face. Beside him is a young boy, who is clearly trying to balance on the back of the bench with one foot, arms outstretched like he’s performing some kind of circus act.

“Careful, you brat.” Sukuna warns, his tone stern but not unkind. “You’re going to break your neck.”

Yuji, grinning from ear to ear, just laughs and hops down with a flourish. “I’m invincible, Uncle Sukuna!”

“Yeah, well, let’s not test that theory.” Sukuna mutters, but there’s a fondness in his voice that catches you off guard. “Your mom and dad will kill me.”

You approach them, smiling as Yuji notices you and waves enthusiastically. “Hi! You must be the one Uncle Sukuna’s always talking about!”

“Yuji!” Sukuna snaps, looking mortified. “I do not—”

Yuji doesn’t miss a beat, cutting him off. “He totally does! He’s always like, ‘I wonder if she’s gonna remember me today,’ or ‘Maybe she’ll cook something nice again.’”

Sukuna groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Kid, do you ever stop talking?”

You can’t help but laugh at the exchange, and Sukuna’s embarrassment only makes it funnier. “Nice to meet you, Yuji!” you say, crouching down to his level. “Your uncle’s right, though. You should be careful on that bench.”

Yuji shrugs, his smile never fading. “Uncle Sukuna’s always careful too, even though he acts all tough. But he’s really soft, especially when I get hurt. You should see him panic when I stub my toe.”

“Yuji!” Sukuna’s voice is a mix of frustration and resignation, clearly regretting bringing his nephew along.

You stand up, grinning at Sukuna. “I see you’ve got a little soft spot, huh?”

“Don’t listen to him.” Sukuna mutters, glaring at Yuji, who just laughs and runs off toward the playground. “He’s a menace.”

“Sure, sure.” you tease, nudging Sukuna lightly. “But you love it.”

Sukuna sighs, watching Yuji with an expression that’s a mix of exasperation and affection. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep him out of trouble.”

You slip your hand into Sukuna’s, squeezing it gently. “You’re doing a great job, Uncle Sukuna.”

He gives you a sidelong glance, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Don’t start calling me that too.”

“No promises.” you reply, laughing as you both watch Yuji play, his laughter filling the air. It’s a side of Sukuna you never expected to see, and you find yourself growing more and more fond of the man who, despite his rough edges, is soft in all the right places.

[afterglowsainz]

obsessed | oscar piastri

summary: in which oscar, your boyfriend, is obsessed with franco, your ex

pairing: reader x oscar piastri, reader x ex!franco colapinto

fc: kaia gerber

a/n: overdone concept with a little twist😋

—

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francolapinto break well spent 🇦🇷 now back to the office

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tagged francisca.cgomes

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tagged oscarpiastri

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francolapinto happy mother’s day💙

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oscarpiastri tbt

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tagged oscarpiastri

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landonorris your boyfriend the attention whore*

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[pshbites]

LOVE ON AiR

SYNOPSiS » two podcast groups, both equally popular on the internet, start interacting with one another. however it isnt how fans want it to be.. OR yn sees sunghoon hating on lauryn hill and accidentally starts an entire fanwar with him.

PAiRiNG » sunghoon x fem!reader

FEAUTRiNG » all of enha, giselle of aespa, txt briefly mentioned

GENRE » smau (social media au), fluff, angst, enemies to lovers (barely), chronically online humor, romance, podcast au, influencer au, HEAVILY inspired from suburb talks and under the influence podcasts, SLOWBURNN

WARNiNGS » profanity, suggestive humor, kys/kms jokes, lots of pop culture references (im chronically online im sorry), drinking, drugs, fanwars, yn haters (BOOOOO), stalking (sorta?) manipulation (NOT FROM SUNGHOON OR Y/N) changes every chapter.

STATUS » completed — (08/03/24) to (10/26/24)

PLAYLiST » your eyes only - enha, after midnight - chappell roan, ex factor - lauryn hill, kiss me - dpr live, read your mind - sabrina carpenter, 3005 - childish gambino, poison poison - renee rapp, thirst - dpr live, just a little bit - enha, daisy - wave to earth, nouvelle vague - wave to earth, thinkin about you - frank ocean. (got carried away .. 😁)

AUTHORS NOTE » BIGGG thanks to my bestest friend ever, my fav british person, @lqfiles , ily so so much and thank you so much for helping me with this process. teaching me how to work tumblr like i was a grandma even tho im only 2 years older than u and making this AMAZING cover (isnt she talented), i love u sooo much more than words can describe, you annoying brit (endearing) 🫶

TAGLIST CLOSED!

written chaps in blue

🔴 RECORDING..

teaser (read first for context!!)

profiles i & profiles ii

1) call my phone a vibrator the way it keeps buzzing

2) YAP CENTRAL EP.135: alpha male podcasts?!

3) first hate thread. feeling nervous

4) pussy slay queen!

5) okay alpha

6) ROUND TABLE EP.149: perfect pitch :o

7) 1 down 3 to go

8) what the fuck is a ynhoon

9) YNXOXO VLOG: night out w/ won and riki

10) wet and bothered

11) just a normal tuesday

12) jungwons evil arc

13) YNXOXO VLOG: cafe date with my girls <3

14) the battle of thirst traps

15) twitch streaming era

16) YAP CENTRAL EP.136: did social media ruin relationships?

17) second interaction: kinda scared

18) fuck skater boys

19) park sunghoon v. round table

20) riki emo era: OVER

21) sunghoons side hoes

22) ROUND TABLE EP.150: we traded phones?!

23) bro define: friend

24) spidey sense

25) on my cellular plan i pay for?

26) YNXOXO VLOG: night time routine + surprise!!

27) a face i would kiss

28) collab of the century

29) YAP CENTRAL EP.137: has love lost its meaning?

30) eyes don’t lie

31) operation: ynhoon (postponed)

32) crybaby

33) operation: ynhoon (BACK ON)

34) chat is this a date yes or no?

35) boss baby jay

36) boyfriend

37) soft or hard?

38) what da heck *tyla voice*

39) YNXOXO VLOG: ice skating! | vlog w/ a special guest!!

40) love is on air

UNCUTS

1) operation: get riki ip banned on twt

2) try not to blow up challenge: FAILED

3) JAYS KITCHEN: my friends trying to help me make food blindfolded. (spoiler: it’s a fail)

4) YNXOXO VLOG: my boyfriend does my makeup voiceover !

5) YAP CENTRAL BLOOPERS: riki kat and yn patreon ad

© all rights to pshbites 2024

[tinycoffeeroom]

more than enough | lando norris

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

requested: Hi lovely, I loved just friends!! Since reading, all I’ve been able to thinking about is bestfriend/roomate Lando. Maybe you’re not able to join him for race weekend and he hasn’t heard from you, like at all. When he returns, he thinks you’re not home until he hears the sobs and realises something is really wrong. Maybe you’ve broken up with your boyfriend and Lando is standing on the other side of your locked bedroom door, absolutely in love with you and hurting because you’re hurting 🫠

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

📍 Miami

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 1,387,928 others

landonorris WE FUCKING DID IT!!!!! P1 in Miami!!!!! you bitches can't call me lando nowins anymore!!!

See 997,729 other comments

fan you can tell lando runs his own social media... ↳ mclaren it is our biggest burden

oscarpiastri well done mate! well deserved! ♥️ landonorris ↳ landonorris you next osc!!!

maxverstappen1 i said i'd have to collect my wins before you start coming for them, congrats winner! ♥️ landonorris

mclaren our papaya boy, you will always be loved (heart) ♥️ landonorris

fan WHERE IS Y/N?????? ↳ fan lando said in an interview that she couldn't come this week!!!! i'm sure she texted / called him

fan i know y/ns screaming and crying at the fact she couldn't be there this week

fan no lando / y/n hugging photo :((((( i miss my best friends

liked by fan, fan and 19,036 others

f1gossip Lando Norris' roommate and best friend Y/N L/N was caught in a heated argument with her recently debuted beau outside a restaurant in Monaco. The person who sent the photo in was too far away to hear the argument, but said Y/N seemed despondent to the situation, watching her boyfriend walk away before paying the bill and leaving quietly. Soon after, waiter's came to each outside table and told them Y/N sent her apologies for the commotion.

fan y/n :(((( was he the reason she couldn't go to Miami????

fan i'm gonna dox him ↳ fan i mean... i'm not gonna stop you

fan i have a knife.

fan i hope he's an ex boyfriend now wtf???

fan do you guys remember the pics of her and lando talking at padel and her bf was shooting DAGGERS at lando??? yeah somethings going on there ↳ fan we hate insecure men

fan lando i know u have money and connections i need this man to disappear

It wasn’t unusual for you to go radio silent after a race you weren’t able to attend, especially one on the other side of the world. Lando was used to a simple “congrats on P4!<3333” or wherever he had placed that time, and then you would be off to the land of dreams as he went about his day, shuffling between meetings and the media paddock. 

Today was different however. Lando had actually won. He’d won his first ever race and his best friend and roommate was virtually nowhere to be seen. He couldn’t help but feel a little angry at you, you knew how much P1 meant to him, the hours he had spent moping around the little apartment the two of you shared after a bad race and the rants he would go on when he placed P2 but was inches from that ever so elusive win, slipping just through his fingertips. 

He fired off one last text to you before sliding the phone back into the waistband of his fireproofs so he had his hands free to accept celebratory fist bumps and handshakes from every garage along the paddock. 

The lack of communication from you slowly slipped his mind after he had interview after interview, the kind and excited words of the journalists filling him with pride as they recall just how far ahead of Max he had been. Sure, his mood soured everytime someone mentioned that he got lucky with the safety car but his mother always told him that luck was something to utilise, not something to rely on. 

When he was finally free of the media’s hands, he checked his phone again. No messages from you which made him sigh, but one from Max. Opening their text thread, he’d dropped Lando a location pin for a well known bar in Miami along with the sentence “9pm, be there or be square, race winner”. 

–

To be quite honest, Lando doesn’t remember much of the party. Hell, he doesn’t even remember getting there, Zak having plied him with glass after glass of champagne during their debrief. He’s pretty sure Oscar had been the one to zip his fly up when they met outside their hotel rooms before the party, hands moving up to recentre his shirt so only a slightly scandalous amount of chest showed. 

Sitting on the private jet, again courtesy of Max, he thumbed through the last text thread between the two of you. You’d seemed fine, mentioning that you were going out for a meal with your boyfriend before the race started, and then… nothing. Complete and total radio silence. 

Maybe you were still with your boyfriend, too wrapped up in that jackass to notice the 17 messages Lando had left you since last night. 

God, he hated that guy. Ever since the day you had introduced him to Lando, he’d had a bad feeling. The guy was too touchy, arm wrapped securely and possessively around your waist like Lando was some kind of threat. 

And maybe he was. 

If he’d just manned up and told you the truth, that he’d loved you since the moment the two of you met one sunny day when he was still an F2 driver and you were the sister of one of his rivals, then maybe it would be his arm draped around you. 

Instead he had smiled, rolled over and showed his stomach like a runt at the bottom of the food chain, and watched from afar as the guy whisked you away under a mottled sunset. 

He felt a nudge at his side, eyes meeting Max’s curious ones. “Still no reply?”

He sighed, shaking his head as he pocketed his phone once again. “Maybe she’s busy…”

The excuse sounds weak even to his own ears, and when Max simply hums unbelievingly, he sighs again, mind torn in half at the elation of his win and the sadness of your ignoration. 

–

Sliding the key into the door, he listened ahead for any sign of life. The sound of dishes clinking in the sink, or your playlist of noughties hits that he always pretended to hate but would secretly sing along to when you weren’t looking. 

The silence that blankets him is unnerving. Too reminiscent of when he’d moved here alone and had all but begged you to join him, promising a rent free and easy going life. 

Checking the kitchen, he sees it’s exactly as he left it last week. The living room is barely lived in, the odd throw misplaced from the back of the sofa. His game room door is still shut, as is both his and your bedrooms. 

As he walks through to drop his suitcase off in his room, dreading the amount of washing that will fall out of it when he gets the energy to open, he hears a noise. From your bedroom, specifically. 

Checking his watch, he sees its 2 in the afternoon. Normally, you would be up and out by now, dragging Lando to whatever new fad you had seen on tiktok, or to the padel courts where he would inevitably lose to you. 

Leaning so his ear presses against the door, he can make out the shuffling of sheets. Maybe you had decided to do some laundry whilst you waited for him to get back. But then, the sound of sniffling joins. 

He freezes on the spot, ear still pressed haphazardly to the wooden door. The sniffles get louder and louder, soon joined behind an unmistakable sob. He can feel his heart drop to the floor, his stomach joining it on its tumultuous way down. 

You were crying. And he had no idea why. 

Pulling away from the door, his hand hovers the knob. Should he knock first? Should he just leave you to it? Normally, when you were sad, you would sneak into whichever room he was in, either reaching a hand out to lay against his back or sitting close enough so your thighs touch. He knew you needed to feel some part of him in order to ground yourself, and he always obliged. Oftentimes, the two of you would end up cuddled on the couch, some soppy chick flick on the tv as you gave into the warmth surrounding you, eyes closing as you rested your head against his shoulder. Despite how much it hurt to see you sad, he couldn’t deny these quiet moments were his favourite part of any day. 

Another sob breaks out, the sound so cruel and visceral, it was as if it had been yanked from your very soul. He forgoes knocking, hand twisting the knob harshly. He tries to push it open, only to be met by a force pushing back against him. 

You’d locked the door. 

In the 4 years of living together, neither of you had ever once locked your bedroom doors, knowing the other would knock before entering but still feeling comfortable enough to forgo privacy so the rooms could be open to the other whenever. 

“Y/N?” He calls out hesitantly, as one would approach an injured bird. 

The sobs become muffled, more shuffling of sheets before you call back to him, voice weak and torn along the edges. “Lando?”

He normally loved when you said his name, but the whine that accompanies it today leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He knows he should ask what’s wrong but he doesn’t know where to begin. He’s never not known why you’re sad, the two of you an open book shared between friends. 

He starts the only way he knows how. “Did you watch the race?”

More shuffling of sheets and when you respond, your voice is closer. “I’m sorry Lan, I didn’t get a chance to.” A moment of silence passes between the two of you. “How did you do?”

He wants to be angry. He really does. The one time you don't watch a race and he only goes and bloody wins it. “I won.”

“What?” Your voice wobbles, wondering if you were imagining what he had just said. 

“I won, Y/N. My first P1. 7 seconds ahead of Max.”

He waits for your response, probably some form of congratulations spoken through wood given your current mood. What he wasn’t expecting was for you to unlock and slam open the door, the both of you wincing as it bangs against the wall. “Say that again.”

He takes you in for a moment. Bloodshot eyes rimmed with violet, tears still making their way down flushed cheeks. You��re wrapped in your duvet, only your head visible as the duvet covers what is probably bedhead and your favourite set of pyjamas - flannel trousers and a t-shirt of Lando’s you had stolen at some point. 

Shrugging his shoulders, he smiles warily at you. “I won.”

Throwing yourself at him, he takes a moment to steady the two of you, arms wrapping around the mass of duvets surrounding you. He can feel you crying again, tears soaking the collar of his shirt. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Lan. I should have watched, I mean you won and I wasn’t even there to watch. I’m sorry, please forgive me.” You choke through the words, fingers digging roughly into Lando’s back. 

He winces at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin through the shirt, squeezing you even closer to him. “Don’t be sorry. Something obviously happened.” He uses the mound of duvet to pull you away, eyes flickering over your face. You look heartbroken in more ways than one. “What happened, sweet girl?”

Your lips quiver at the nickname, a hand poking through the duvet to reveal your phone. After 3 tries of using face ID, you huff, angrily putting in your passcode before turning the screen to Lando. 

He scans the screen. It’s an instagram post by some F1 gossip page. He recognised the user as one who often tried to paint him as some womaniser, taking any regular interaction with a woman as a sign he was sleeping with them. 

This post, however, is different. He sees you first, mouth in a tense line as you stare blankly at your boyfriend. Then he sees the caption. 

The anger returns, festering and dark, this time directed to your dickhead of a boyfriend. “What did he do?”

You sigh, locking the screen and pulling your hand back into the duvet cocoon. “I said I wanted to go home because your race was about to start. He got angry and accused me of being in love with you. I pointed out that I was literally on a date with him. He called me every name under the sun, told me we were over and then stormed off. I’m sorry, Lan, this isn’t good publicity for you.”

He scoffed, eyebrows raising skyward. “I dont give a fuck about the publicity, I care about you. How dare he speak to you like that?” He can tell the angers bleeding into his tone but he’s about 2 seconds away from finding out where that prick lives and beating him over the head with a padel racket. “Are you ok? Do you want to put on a chick flick? Order a takeaway? Go to a rage room and plaster his face across every breakable thing?” Moving closer, he rests his hand against your jaw, nudging it between your tear stained skin and the soft duvet. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

Sighing, you nuzzle against his hand. “None of that, Lan. I just want to cry and forget what happened last night.”

Swallowing his pride, he nods. “Do you want me to talk to him? I can tell him we’re not in love with each other. Just best friends.” The ending comes out a little bitterly, but he hopes you’re too distracted to notice. 

You smile up at him affectionately. The simple curve is enough to make his heart flutter from where it had picked itself off the floor and wormed its way back into his chest. 

Reaching up to lay your hand over his, lacing your fingers between his, you sandwich it between the warmth he so craved. “I just want to be with you. You make everything better.”

He reflects your smile, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone. You wanted him, just him, and for now that was more than enough. 

[yinyuedijun]

ZERO-SUM GAME

It’s different with Aventurine. You like being his luxury hand watch. You like being his elegant knife, his liar’s dice, his pretty poker chip. You want to be his object—the object of his affections, something he can parade around just like his expensive suits and his beautiful jewellery and his ostentatious furs. Look at me, he uses them to say. Look at what I own. Look at what I own despite this code on my neck. Look at what I've won despite my eyes and my blood. (Or: Aventurine wins you in a game of poker. He decides to cash out his prize right then and there—to enjoy you on the card table, laid out among all the chips and cards.)

8.6k words of psychological issues, explicit smut, and deranged characterization. aventurine tops, reader bottoms. public sex, voyeurism from strangers, piv, oral (reader receiving), fingering with gloves on, creampie. mild dubcon but the reader is ultimately into it. afab gn reader, they are playing a fem-coded role for an espionage assignment (dress, heels, makeup). themes of objectification. discussion of slavery and sa during slavery (not explicit). dead dove do not eat, mdni.

You are in the grandest casino of Kinyoshi Moon Colony, and Aventurine is running your latest husband into life-ruining debt.

You aren’t cut up about it. If your marriage (or concubinage, rather) were genuine, you'd maybe be annoyed about the loss of capital. But as it is, this relationship is an assignment from the IPC—one of the longest and most excruciatingly boring yet. Fortunately for you, Aventurine’s presence tonight means that you've finally gathered enough intel for Diamond’s needs. It is time for the IPC to terminate your latest contract, and Aventurine is here to collect you.

Which is a little funny, given your relationship. It is strange sitting across from your boyfriend, draped over another man and thoroughly ignoring him. You’re entirely focused on fawning over your husband instead—laughing into his ear, lighting his pipe and filling his whiskey glass, and oh, Mister Li, you're so funny, you're so clever, I think you should go all in!—but Aventurine doesn't react. He only smiles at the two of you, like he isn't bothered by the sight.

This is, of course, an act: when you came home from your last marriage (assignment), he'd made sure to pleasure you so thoroughly that you forgot all about your ex-husband (mark). Aventurine did not openly admit to any kind of jealousy at the time, but you could tell he hadn't been keen on letting another man touch you. He usually isn't too keen about anyone touching any of his things, in fact. Despite appearances, he always abhors the thought of losing anything important.

But any fears he might have are concealed right now. They’re always concealed. Hidden by the expensive suit, the countless stacks of chips, the golden walls and high-vaulted ceilings of the Venetian Zhijin, Masked by his generous gifts, his easy laughter, his careless frivolity. You can see right through his gilded smile. The rest of the table cannot.

They are all intrigued when Aventurine asks, a playful lilt in his voice, “How about we make this game a little more interesting, gentleman?”

The other players at the table consider him. The other plus-ones—concubines, courtesans, gigolos, and so on—look at him with calculated expressions of cursory interest. You do so as well, but only for a moment. Your gaze quickly returns to Mister Li’s face—your husband is meant to be your true focus, after all, not the game. You are not a player at this table, but an accessory. Closer to an expensive watch than a human being.

Some business magnate from the Triangulum Galaxy leans back and raises a brow. “I'm listening,” he says. You watch a bead of sweat travel down your husband’s neck.

“How about we up the ante,” Aventurine says, his voice light, “but instead of betting more money this time, we bet our dates?”

You think, in other star systems, other worlds, such a suggestion would invite riot. But Kinyoshi Colony being what it is, and the Venetian being the establishment that it is, the other players at the table only laugh. Nearly half of them deal in the trade of human beings anyway—this is nothing novel for them.

“Well,” one of them says, “it’s not like winning more money’s gonna make a difference to any of us.” A round of chuckling. He turns to his date—some noblewoman from Jarilo-IV who seems greatly out of her depth—and says, “What do you think, love? How do you feel about being part of my wager?”

She doesn't like it. She clearly doesn't like it, and she also clearly doesn't know how to say it. Were you not on the clock, you might intervene. Maybe. As it is, though, all you can do is observe quietly. All the power in this gambit lies with Aventurine. Even when surrounded by men who manipulate the wealth of entire cities, planets, galaxies—he remains in full control.

“There’s never any shame in folding,” he says, magnanimous. Then he looks your husband in the eye, smiling conspiratorially. “But I know there are some of us who aren't afraid to take risks.”

Li laughs. “You’re right about that, Mister Aventurine.” He gives you a fond smile. And of course he does—you’re his last shot at winning back all his losses for the night. “I think you'd make a pretty little chip, don't you?”

Although Mister Li is clearly less distressed at the thought of betting you than he was at the thought of betting his company just last round, you notice, out of the corner of your eye, a muscle in Aventurine’s neck twitching. It’s very, very subtle, and he'd have never let himself do it if the table’s attention were on him, but he did it. Perhaps it was involuntary. Your mouth curls.

“Sure, darling.” You try not to sound too giddy. “I’ll be whatever you like.”

Ordinarily, you wouldn't be so happy about this farce. This is, put plainly, a stupid way to extract you from your mission. Were the cards in anyone else’s hands, your husband could win and you might be stuck with him for another several weeks, at least—assuming that you aren't discovered and killed first. Or you could go home with another man and be subjected to the kind of things that men do when they trade human beings, and you don't think the IPC would care too much if you were. You are an asset before you are a person, after all. At this table, you are closer to an expensive watch than a human being—and at the Company, you are an overpriced knife.

But to Aventurine, you're a chip in one of his games, and you don't mind that so much. Men who only know wealth will throw around their riches thoughtlessly, but men who have endured poverty will hold onto them tightly—desperately. Aventurine takes care of his luxury watches, his elegant knives, his liar’s dice. His capital. And he never loses anything. He always comes to collect. You trust him to collect you, even with this stupid plan, so you are calm as you watch the dealer shuffle the cards.

The table makes their bets. Most of the players go all-in. A couple fold, perhaps feeling some degree of concern for their partners, but it's more likely that they just have shit hands. A lot of the ones who continue playing have shit hands anyway. Your husband doesn't do too badly—a straight flush. He seems confident.

Then Aventurine lays out his cards. Ten. Joker. Queen. King. Ace.

All hearts.

You have to take a sip of your whiskey to stop yourself from laughing.

Aventurine, himself, has the grace not to look too smug about the outcome. Or maybe it's very unremarkable for him, all these winnings being pushed over to him—poker chips and human beings. Some of the other dates are clearly anxious as they move toward him (they are expected to be loyal to their husbands), and some are clearly excited (they are expected to be frivolous, hedonistic playthings). He humours them all, for a little while. Puts on the usual show as they crowd around him, charms them because it'll be good for business partnerships in case any of their husbands care even a little bit about them. You'd do the same in his shoes. But in your current ones (six-inch heels, black leather, red bottoms, luxury), all you can do is seat yourself on the card table and light up a cigarette. Waiting.

Aventurine eventually sends them all off. All I wanted was to get to know you, he says cheerfully, which is probably not a lie. After they leave, he asks the dealer to close the table and go on break. Turn a blind eye. You raise a brow when they obey him.

How interesting.

You're still enjoying your cigarette by the time he turns to you. You flash him a smile, one of the ones that you use for work. His expression doesn't change, but his thumb brushes against one of his many rings—switching off your synesthesia beacons for some privacy—and he leans back to study you. You know he's admiring you, but it could be mistaken for a leer.

“Well, well,” he says, “If it isn’t the esteemed concubine of Li Fengzhi.”

“The esteemed fifth concubine,” you correct. He hums, looking surprised.

“I thought you were the fourth. Did I misremember?”

“No, just misinformed. He took another concubine right before I arrived on Kinyoshi. He acquired a sixth just last week. Turns out he picks up paramours like they’re strays.”

“How inconvenient.”

“It made no difference to me,” you dismiss. “I’m his favourite anyway, but I’m sure you knew that already.”

“I’d have had to be blind not to notice it. You have the man wrapped around your finger.” Aventurine leans back, studying you as you smoke on your perch. “But before we continue—why don’t you come a little closer, esteemed Fifth Concubine?”

You make a face. “That title doesn’t sound as nearly as flattering in Avgin dialect as it does in Zhijinese,” you note, though you get off the table anyway. You don’t go very far, electing to seat yourself on his lap, your arms draping around his shoulders. The feathers of his jacket tickle at your bare shoulders; the satin of his gloves glide down the skin of your thighs before settling on your calves. “Since you’ve won my company for the night, though,” you sigh, “I suppose I can humour you, Mister Aventurine.”

“Lucky me.” He leans in, his breath sweeping the shell of your ear. His fragrance surrounds you, your body warming at the familiar scent of ambergris and vanilla. You realize, all of a sudden, how much you missed it. You have to stop yourself from pressing your face into his neck and melting—it would be a dead giveaway for your identity and also too revealing of your feelings. Aventurine might be endeared by it, but he might also find it disconcerting. He often needs to be tricked into intimacy.

He does enjoy being wanted though, and he can obviously tell that you want him. He pulls you closer, one of his hands giving your thigh a generous squeeze. It makes you throw your head back in a laugh, exposing the soft skin of your throat. You aren't surprised when he takes the opportunity to kiss it, his lips gentle against your pulse.

“You’re being very forward,” you tease him. “Did you miss me?”

“I’m just trying to be careful,” he defends himself between kisses, his breath warm on your skin. “We should try to conceal our mouths as much as possible. No one can intercept our synesthesia beacons, but someone could still read our lips.”

You give him a funny look. “We’re the only two speakers of Avgin in the known universe. Who could, other than ourselves, could read our—mmph…”

Aventurine has caught the rest of your sentence with his mouth. He’s hungry and wanting for you, the heat of his lips overwhelming. Your tongue is as practised as his, but you find yourself too distracted by your thrill to focus, your kiss wet and eager. Messy. Unprofessional.

You’ve never kissed any of your husbands like this. You’ve never kissed any of your other owners like this. You feel dazed when he pulls away.

You compose yourself. “So you did miss me.”

He smiles. “Guilty as charged.” A gloved hand rests on your face, satin tracing your lips. “How could I not? You’ve been away from the house for so long.”

Your eyes narrow. There’s no idiom for this in Avgin, so you flip briefly to Interastral Standard: “Pot, kettle, black. You leave home all the time.” You smack away the hand at your waist, petty. He looks amused. “And you almost always die.”

He switches out his smile for a pout. “Don’t tell me you’re still mad about last time.”

“You nearly got yourself blasted with atomics, so yes, I’m still mad at you.”

Now he’s frowning. “Am I going back to sleeping on the couch when you come back?”

“Yes,” you say. His deepening frown is meant to be read as a joke, but you know better. Deciding to throw him a bone, you lean in, whispering playfully into his ear: “You can still fuck me on it though.”

Aventurine hums, as if considering. His hands traverse your sides as he contemplates your suggestion. You move to straddle him, your thighs squeezed around his hips. When you grind against him, you can feel how much he wants you despite his composure, his control—his length straining in his pants, pressed against the silk covering your core.

“I don’t think I can wait long enough to fuck you on the couch,” he says, voice teasing.

“No?” You hum as his hands travel upward, feeling every inch of you. “The ship on the way home, then?”

“We don’t leave until tomorrow. Do you really think I can wait that long?”

You don't expect to feel the warmth of his hands on your chest. Your breath hitches when he starts palming your tits through your dress, neon eyes admiring the curve of them. One of his thumbs skims over the peak of your breast, and his mouth curls when your nipple hardens. “No bra? That's convenient.”

“I—” You squirm in his grip, whining. It just makes you grind against his lap more, your cunt moving against his slacks. A wave of heat runs through your lower half, and you clench around nothing. You can see people from a nearby table glancing at you, doing double takes. You can feel their lingering gazes on you, and you know Aventurine can too.

“I—are you going to”—your voice shakes as he pinches your nipple, as his other hand moves to squeeze your ass instead. Your dress is short—designed for easy access—and his fingertips easily skim the underside of its skirt. You wonder if he’s going to pull it up. You wonder if he's going to go even further than that.

But that would be an absurd thing to do in the middle of the busiest casino in the colony, which also happens to be the busiest trade hub in its star system. It would be absurd even for the two of you. Nevermind the reactions of the other players in the room—the staff here would immediately blacklist you, and so would every other gambling house in Kinyoshi.

You try to calm yourself. “Are you—ah—going to take me upstairs?”

He's fully kneading your breasts now. You can feel your clit throbbing, your body responding to his rough and unrepentant touch. “Hm… I don't think I want to.” Aventurine’s voice drops. His smile takes on a distinctly wicked quality. “I think I'll take you right here.”

“But we’ll get kicked out,” you whine. Even as you protest though, you're panting and moving your hips now. Grabbing at his arms, rutting against him like you're in heat. His fingers hook around the thin straps of your dress, pull them down your shoulders, already starting to indulge despite your reservations. You bend into his touch.

“Kicked out? By who? The staff?” He smiles, as always. “I own the place now. I don't think they'll be giving me trouble.”

“Y—you what?” For a moment, you're too shocked to keep up the wanton show. “You do? Since when?”

“Since last night.” He thumbs one of the straps that's fallen halfway down your arms. The rest of your dress threatens to come down with it. “Technically it's the IPC who acquired it—or, well, their shell company did—but I'm their designated representative here. I signed the contract.”

“The IPC isn’t going to be upset that you're fucking a concubine, who's not even your concubine, on their new property?”

Aventurine shrugs. “They know the kind of establishment the Venetian is. People gamble with humans here all the time, you know, so this has definitely happened before. The IPC definitely expects it to happen again. And besides”—he returns his attention to your dress, starting to slip the fabric down your shoulders—“I'm just cashing out my winnings. I'm sure they wouldn't deny a gambler his vices. That'd be bad business.”

You want to say more, but then he tugs, suddenly exposing you. You’re bare in front of him—in front of everyone. You can feel eyes on you. Heat curls in your gut as he grabs your tits again, his satin gloves smooth across your skin, and your nipples pebble beneath them. “Hm… much better.”

“But…” You bite your lip, glancing around. There are so many people watching now—so many voyeurs, who've forgotten about their games and their slots. Though there are a greater number of people who are continuing as usual, studying their hands, smoking their cigarettes, unperturbed. All regulars and VIPs, you know from your intelligence.

Aventurine pauses as you catalogue the room, raising a brow. Probably he's surprised at your sudden modesty; you usually have none when his touch is involved.

“Of course,” he adds, “if you'd rather enjoy the suite upstairs…”

“No—I don’t mind staying down here… it's just that I’ve never…”

Your voice trails off. Your eyes traverse the space again. There are people who’ve fully thrown their cards down, greedily drinking in the sight of you instead. Even some of the dealers are watching between hands, glancing at you instead of watching for cheaters. Like this is public entertainment, like you're a show.

Aventurine tilts his head.

“You've never had sex with an audience?” he guesses. He sounds surprised—perplexed. You don't know why. You know he knows it's a stupid question. You know he knows the answer.

You had sex in front of people all the time before you met him. You did it for the exact reasons that he’s almost certainly done the same. To this table of business magnates, you are closer to an expensive watch than a human being; to the IPC, you are more like an overpriced knife; to this gambling hall, you're an interesting sideshow.

To your captors who fucked you in public, you guess you were something like a toy.

The thought sitting in your mouth is this: you've never had sex with an audience and enjoyed it. It was painful—not painful for the heart or the mind or anything else sentimental, but painful like it felt you were a fish being gutted open by a knife. And even beyond that physical pain, you simply didn't enjoy being passed around. You didn't like being owned by those people. You didn't like being an object for their entertainment, a spectacle to be consumed.

But it's different with Aventurine. You like being his luxury hand watch. You like being his elegant knife, his liar’s dice, his pretty poker chip. You like being his plaything, spread for his viewing whenever he wants. You want to be his object—the object of his affections, something he can parade around just like his expensive suits and his beautiful jewellery and his ostentatious furs. Look at me, he uses them to say. Look at what I own. Look at what I own despite this commodity code on my neck. Look at what I've won despite my eyes and my blood.

You want him to own you too. You want him to show everyone that he won you, that he bought you, that you're his possession now. That he, and he alone, is free to treat you like a toy.

You're getting wetter just thinking about it.

“Nevermind,” you whisper. “Let's do it.”

His smile widens ever so slightly. Slyer than usual.

“Good,” he says. He guides you into standing. “Let’s get you settled then.”

You're seated back on the card table. The cigarette is forgotten in the ashtray next to you. Aventurine takes the time to straighten out your dress, lifting the straps back up and affording you some modesty—before he gently lays you out.

You look up at him as you're spread in front of him, laid out next to his royal flush and winnings. Like you're another chip in his stacks, the most expensive one. He puts a hand beneath your leg, drapes it over his shoulder. He takes the opportunity to kiss your calf, his lips delicate.

You glance at the tables around you. You watch the business owners and politicians as they watch Aventurine. You watch them as they watch your boyfriend pepper kisses up your leg, unless he's settling in between them. Your thighs spread easily for him, and you don't resist as he hikes up your skirt.

Then he frowns.

“I’ve never seen these panties before.”

“They’re new,” you relay.

“From your husband?”

“Yup.”

“I see.”

You can't see his face, but he sounds distinctly displeased. You expect him to complain, to say they're not expensive enough or not designer enough or just plain ugly.

You don't expect him to tear them right off.

“Aventurine?!”

You're so surprised you sit up, just in time to see him throw tatters of silk to the floor.

“What?” He looks up at you, expression unbothered, almost mild. “It wasn't your colour.”

Your mouth opens. “But it was still very nice!”

“I'll buy you nicer ones later. I’ll buy you a whole drawer of nicer ones later, when we’re done here.”

He looks down again, humming. Your cheeks flush as he spreads your legs again, baring your glistening sex to him—this time completely bare. Satin glides along the inside of your thighs, and your breath hitches when he reaches their apex. You feel the light touch of a finger along your opening, and you feel your body responding, tightening around nothing.

“Tell me,” he says, “What else did your husband do with you?”

His voice is casual, almost disinterested, but you know Aventurine is listening carefully.

“Not much,” you answer truthfully. “I haven't cum in months, you know.”

“Oh?” He sounds surprised. “You don't have sex with him?”

“No. He's fucked me a lot. It”—you whimper, pausing when you feel his fingers spreading you open, fluttering hole and swollen clit exposed to him—“it just wasn't very good.”

“Then”—you feel a thumb press against your clit, and you swallow—“he never touched you here?”

“N-no.”

“Stupid of him.” He’s drawing slow, lazy circles into the bud now, making you squirm on the table. You press yourself eagerly toward his familiar touch, having desperately missed it for months. Aventurine, perhaps sensing your neediness, asks, “And you didn't touch yourself?”

“He didn't let me,” you whine, and now he's frowning at you.

“I knew I should have gotten you out of there sooner,” he says, and you have to bite back a laugh. Aventurine’s mouth curls at the sound, and he leans in to place a kiss on your thigh. “But that’s fine. I'll make it up to you now.”

Aventurine kisses are soft and precise. They pepper a path up your thigh while his fingers continue to play lazily with your clit. You want—need—to feel something inside you, but he doesn't oblige. His fingers merely run along your entrance, teasing your dripping pussy with luxury satin, and that's all they do, even as your hips buck needily toward him.

He pauses for just a moment. When you look at him, you see him staring at you—at the brand on your inner thigh, the commodity code that your captors left on you, branding you as a product to be used and sold.

His voice is almost soft when he asks, “And what did your husband say when he saw this?”

“He never did,” you reply. “He always fucked me from behind. And he never went down on me.” You pause, thinking about the way he spoke of his business. Of his trade partners. Of what your captors had done to your home when you told him about it, feigning intimacy only to be matched in cruelty. You think about the way he fucked you, how it felt to be gutted open on his expensive, silk sheets.

None of it matters to you, really. This is behaviour that you’ve long accepted, that your body always anticipates. But you always like to offer Aventurine intimacy, whether real or feigned, whether he returns it equally or responds with undeserved cruelty: “I think it wouldn't have bothered him if he had noticed it.”

You can't see Aventurine’s eyes, but you can feel his reaction when he places a chaste kiss on your product code.

“I should have gotten you out of there sooner,” he repeats. Then he pauses. “Maybe I shouldn't have let you go at all.”

“I didn't mind,” you say. You aren't lying. “You gave me up for a reason.”

He stands. Cups your face with a palm, luxuriant fabric and gold rings pressed against your skin. Sometimes he's given up the aventurine stone temporarily for assignments, parting with it in elaborate gambles that he always manages to win. The way he’s touching you now reminds you of the way he holds the gem whenever it returns to his hand.

“Well,” he says, “I’m sorry it took so long to get you back.”

Aventurine tilts your chin up for a kiss. You meet it eagerly, and it's so tender in its familiarity that every memory of your husband fades. There's only Aventurine, and his gentle mouth, and the way his hands slide your dress down again, how he palms your breasts again. How he teases one nipple with his expensive rings until you're moaning into his mouth. How his other hand travels down until his gloved hand is cupping your heat. You drag your hips against his touch, desperately seeking some kind of friction, your wetness drenching the cloth. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your body aching to be filled by him, aching in a way that it does for no one else.

It’s one of the most addictive feelings you've ever known.

Aventurine only stops touching you so he can push away all the chips, clearing space on the table. He ignores the cacophony as countless stacks fall over, not sparing the plastic coins a single glance. Like you're the only prize that matters to him, even though the sum of his winnings come out to more than you ever were worth.

He lays you out on the table again, flat on your back, exposed, before kissing a path down your body—your neck, your breasts, your stomach, between your thighs. He deigns to give your product code one more kiss, his lips so gentle that it makes you tremble—and then he finally puts his mouth on you. He licks a hot stripe from your dripping pussy up to the crest of your sex, and your eyes close in bliss.

If you felt any uncertainty before this, it's completely gone now. Your hands ghost over your tits, playing with them as Aventurine’s tongue plays with you. He sucks on your neglected clit, fingers squeezing your thighs, keeping you spread open and still for him. He presses in, lets you drag your cunt over his greedy mouth and grind your clit against his face. Heat and pressure coil tight in your belly as he pleasures you, your body flushing with the kind of bliss only Aventurine can give you. You’re so lost in it that you almost don’t notice how quiet the rest of the hall has gotten, the cacophony of chatter and slot machines oddly subdued—almost missing. In their absence, the obscene noises that Aventurine is drawing from your mouth and body are louder than they should be.

The pleasure in your belly is just starting to swell when he pulls away. You give him a pleading look as he leans over you, but before you can start begging for more, you feel his fingers press against your heat. He watches you with keen eyes as he starts rubbing your pussy, maybe enjoying the desperate noises you make at his touch. You buck your hips, moaning as your clit and entrance grind against the fabric of his gloves, seeking friction. You’re empty, aching, desperate to be filled, but you think you can finish like this, just by rutting against his satin fingers—

Aventurine withdraws his hand, and you whine.

“No,” you beg, “please, please keep going, I was getting close—”

He raises a brow, feigning surprise. “Keep going?” He brings up his hand, shows you his gloves. The satin is soaked, shiny and stained with your slick. “I don't think I should. Look at what a mess you’ve made of my gloves.” Aventurine hums, frowning. “These are designer, you know. And limited—there are only 95 pairs of these in the whole universe. And you're ruining them.”

“I'm sorry,” you say, mind so fogged with lust that you can't even return his teasing. “I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you, I'll do anything, just—just let me cum—”

“Anything?” His smile is sly.

“Anything.”

“Well. I suppose if you help me clean this up, I wouldn't mind rewarding you with more.”

You don't need to ask what he means by that. When he holds out his hand to you, runs a finger along your lips, you obediently open your mouth for him. Your tongue slides along the wet satin, only making his glove messier—but he seems not to mind. He merely watches intently as your tongue cleans his fingers, taking in the obscene image of you hungrily lapping your own slick off the expensive fabric.

He lets you ruin his glove thoroughly before finally drawing back, peeling it off.

“I'm not sure that did any good,” he says, frowning. “I’ll probably need to buy a new pair. But”—he pulls away, and you feel him settle between your legs again, his hands spreading them. “I'll still reward you for the effort.”

Aventurine is quick about getting his mouth back on you. His tongue is hot on your skin, expertly teasing your clit. You feel his fingers running along your entrance again, growing sticky with his need. He laughs when you press your hips toward his hand, desperate to be filled.

Then he's pressing his bare fingers into your heat, and your back is arching off the table.

The moan you let out is obscene. It only gets worse when his fingers curl, making the pressure in your belly even heavier. Utterly shameless, you beg for him as he fucks you with his fingers: Aventurine, please, please, I need more, please, I'm so close, I'm so close.

As if taking pity on you, his mouth finds your clit again, his fingers pressing into your sweet spot at the same time. And he doesn't let up, pushing into it even when you think you can't take anymore—tongue swirling against your overstimulated bud, fingers making you gush uncontrollably. You practically sob when you cum, a noise of desperation that echoes in the gambling hall.

His smile looks a little fonder than usual—or maybe just entertained—as he stands again and leans over you. You taste your own release in a messy, open-mouthed kiss, and he strokes your face when he pulls away.

“So good for me,” he praises. “Are you going to let me do more?”

You nod eagerly. “Whatever you like,” you say, all sense of shame gone from your body, “and however you want.”

Aventurine’s mouth curls. “Your husband fucked you from behind, right? Why don't you bend over for me, then? Let's show him how he should have been doing it.”

You see the diamond pupils of Aventurine’s eyes glance off to the side, where, sure enough, your husband is spectating with some of his business partners. You force yourself to turn away before you can smile, hiding your expression from the other men. You’re not meant to derive any real pleasure from any of this, let alone pleasure of the vindictive kind. Your relationship with Aventurine is supposedly nothing but a gambler and his newly won, human plaything. It would be suspicious if you appeared to be anything else.

You slink off the table in a distinctly performative way, and Aventurine plays equally into the show—probably an act as familiar to him as it is to you. He guides you into turning around, your eyes falling on the scattered cards on the tabletop, the casino’s eyes falling on you. His hands waste no time in pulling down your dress and reaching around to knead your breasts, in full view of the rest of the gambling hall. You're only vaguely aware of your audience now, registering the interested, hungry stares, but not really caring. You're too focused on the way that Aventurine is tugging and twisting at your nipples, at how he’s pressed up against your ass, his cock straining through his pants. You grind needily against him, whining.

Aventurine kisses your shoulder. “Poor thing. You've been neglected for so long, haven't you?” His hands retreat, and you hear the sound of a zipper being undone. Then your skirt’s being pushed up and you're being bent over, your dripping pussy fully presented to him. When you feel the press of his cockhead against your entrance, you desperately try to push yourself back onto him. But he doesn't allow you to—only running the tip along your wet folds, still sticky from your release, while he stills you with a gentle touch on your hip.

You make a pathetic, desperate noise. Aventurine chuckles, though there’s now a breathy quality to his voice.

“Be patient,” he chides. “I'll take care of you.”

You know he will. He always takes care of you, in a way that no one else ever has. Even when he gambles your life for some mission, even when he can barely afford you the barest hints of intimacy, even when he displays your body to an audience of slave traders and murderers—he always takes care of you. Even if you are only a knife or a wristwatch or a chip in one of his games, he still treats you like you're worth holding onto.

Aventurine finally moves. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his cock sliding into you. Usually he needs to be careful after your long missions away from him, knowing you'll be tense. He understands that your body always anticipates being in pain after being touched by other people. But he has you so worked up right now—still dripping from your release, still pliant from his fingers, still eager to please him before the crowd—that your cunt easily swallows his length. The stretch is pure bliss, pleasure unfurling in your body as you're filled up properly for the first time in months. He's just as affected as you, breath shaking as he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” he breathes—laughs. “Nearly forgot how good this feels.” He pauses, his breathing slowing—almost stopping each time you squeeze around him. You turn back, throwing him a pleading glance, and he meets it with an endeared smile. “Eager today, aren't you?” He hums, a hand sliding along your waist. “You really do need to be properly fucked.”

He's stalling. Trying to give you a moment to adjust, but you don't need it. “Yes,” you encourage him. Aching for the press of his cock against your walls, you grind against him, and you hear a strangled groan as you force him to move inside you. “Please, Aventurine—please, please fuck me, I need it so badly—”

He hums, both hands grabbing your hips, his fingers sinking into you. “Well. Since you asked so nicely.”

The first thrust has your eyes going wide, your hands reaching for the card table as you’re forced to bend over. You spread our palms next to the mess of heart cards and shiny tokens, bracing yourself for the way your body’s about to be used. He doesn't give you time to breathe after, each stroke filling you deep and fast. The rest of the gambling hall grows very, very quiet as Aventurine fucks you, and suddenly all you can hear is the appreciative murmur of the crowd, clink of ice cubes in aged whiskey, the noisy flick of lighters as more patrons opt to pause their games and enjoy the show. You hear the shattering of all the stacks beside you, hundreds of thousands of dollars in chips fall over beside you, tokens clinking as they roll across the tabletop. But all of that is soon drowned out by the wet noise of your pussy being fucked open, the squelch of your slick around his cock. You moan each time he bottoms out, eager to be filled.

When you feel his cock press into your sweet spot, your moans quickly turn into cries.

You hear something like a breathy laugh from Aventurine. Your body always reveals itself so easily to him, and you know he enjoys it. He hits that spot again and again, builds an agonizing tension in your body with every thrust of his hips. It has your pussy gushing around him, your thighs growing wet and sticky with your need.

Just when it feels like you can't take anymore, he reaches down and presses his fingers against your throbbing clit. Your knees buckle as he toys with you, chest heaving against the table as he sets a brutal pace. You're—overwhelmed, mind going hazy as you're fucked mercilessly. So far gone, you can hardly register the disgruntled expression of your husband, the hungry gazes of his companions, the way that other players are starting to shift in their seats, palming themselves at the sight of your pussy being split open. There's only the tight coil in your gut, the chips between your fingers as you grab uselessly for something to ground you, the cock that's filling you over and over and over—and oh fuck, you’re going to cum, you're really going to cum after being won in a game, from having your pussy used like a sleeve, from being watched by men who will never own you no matter how many times they trade you, no matter how many times they fuck you, no matter how many times they pass you around, because you'll only ever belong to Aventurine—

Your orgasm crashes through your body, and you sob.

It's a broken, blissed out noise. Your pussy is equally shameless, gushing as you pulse around Aventurine’s cock. You go limp as he fucks you through your orgasm, uncaring about the mess you're making. He only groans as you squirt all over him, hips stuttering as he reaches his own peak—spilling himself inside you, pumping you full. Aventurine’s body slumps over yours as rides out his high, his face pressing into your shoulder. You find the wherewithal to shift yourself, just enough to your lips against the tattoo on his neck. He looks at you for a fleeting moment, the blue ring of his eyes electric on you, before capture your mouth in a desperate, messy kiss.

The two of you stay there for a long moment, panting into each other. Then Aventurine collects himself, remembers how to talk: “Fuck.”

You piece yourself together just as easily. Maybe even faster. Smiling into his mouth, you ask, “Enjoy yourself?”

“Clearly.” Aventurine presses his lips into your neck, lingering only briefly. “Can you walk?”

“I think so.”

Aventurine takes his time with moving, as if basking in the afterglow—or bragging in it. But he does rise, eventually. Pulls out slowly, making you shudder. He helps you to your feet, lets you hold onto him for support. His spend drips down your thighs as you right yourself, messy and hot on your skin. You can feel it sliding down your legs as you walk, braced against Aventurine as he guides you in the long walk toward the elevator. It slips all the way down to your calves, to your expensive heels, even onto the marble floor.

You're fairly certain that it's not an accident when Aventurine flips up your skirt as you pass your ex-husband. At the very least, it isn't a mistake when you stumble in that same moment, bending over and giving him a good look at your well-used pussy, now overfilled with your boyfriend’s cum. You don't stop to look at him, but you know he must be red-faced, displeased—aware that he’s been humiliated. Beaten by a Stoneheart, concubine stolen by Sigonian, one of his favourite possessions claimed by a former slave. You'd laugh if you could.

You can't help but kiss Aventurine while the two of you wait for the elevator, a smile glowing into his lips.

It's absurd, but a staff member approaches the two of you as you indulge in one another. Aventurine pulls away as you’re approached, looking mildly annoyed as he switches on his synesthesia beacon.

“Sir,” the staff says, “you’ve left your other winnings at the table.”

Even in his post-orgasm bliss, Aventurine responds promptly. “I’ll cash it all,” he says. “Send the money to my room. I'm not coming back tomorrow.”

“Very well. And the terms of the… human resource exchange that just happened?”

Aventurine’s jaw clicks. It's quiet, but surprising. You watch him carefully.

“We didn't bet contracts,” he says. “This is a concubine, not a slave. But tell Mister Li I'll buy them anyway. I'll pay whatever price he wants, which I’d wager is the company that he gambled and lost to me. Maybe suggest that to him.”

“Of course,” the staff member replies, bowing. Despite the first-rate service, Aventurine looks like he can't get out of there sooner enough as he guides you into the elevator. You give him a curious look as the door closes.

“You're going to give up a multiplanetary corporation just for this?” you ask.

“Not entirely. The IPC was planning to acquire it anyway. It'll be ours again in a few months.” He stares at your reflections in the mirror, his strange eyes lingering on your dishevelled form. “We’ll put your intel to good use,” he adds, and although Jade or Diamond or any of your real bosses would say this with a smile and reward you with a bonus, Aventurine’s expression is unreadable.

“What's on your mind?” you ask, fingers brushing against his hand. “You’re worried about something.”

Aventurine blinks, and it takes him a moment to recover.

“Nothing. Just hoping we didn't give our relationship away just now.” He cups your face with a hand, guides you into looking at his smile. A deflection. “I might have gotten carried away.”

You lean into his touch, eyes playful: a performance. As if he's some stranger that you're servicing, a captor being entertained; as if you're a plaything about to be used. As if you expect to be treated like the disposable commodity that your husband just gambled away.

“I wouldn't worry,” you reassure him. “I'm sure after the show we put on, it'll be clear to anyone that you're only keeping me around for sex.”

It's very, very subtle, but a muscle in Aventurine's neck twitches. He'd never allow it in a game of cards, never before the IPC, never before the prying eyes of slavers and killers—but he allows it in front of you. He always unwittingly bares himself to you, even as he swallows his discomfort before adopting his usual, vulpine expression. You don't think anyone else would notice what lies beneath the gilded surface of his smile, his liar’s eyes. You don't think anyone else would notice his tells, his vulnerabilities, his quiet fear of loss.

After all, there is no one else in this universe who knows how to trick him into intimacy.

Winning has always come with a certain emptiness for Aventurine. Gambling is, after all, a zero sum game. He plays a royal flush and people lose their homes. Winner takes all. He survives the fighting pits, his blade dripping red with the lives of other slaves. Winner takes all. He runs from the stench of blood and burning flesh, praying for thunder and rain loud enough to drown the screams of his dying kin. Winner takes all.

He alone survives. He alone enjoys his riches. Ever since the Avgin died, he has always been by himself. There is no amount of coin nor credit that will ever change this.

Here is another unyielding fact that hollows any win: that no matter how many credits he collects, he will always be a chip himself. He will always be a plastic token worth sixty coppers. Gambling is a zero-sum game, and ever since the day he was chained, Aventurine has been the pool of riches divided among winners. He has always been the commodity being traded between hands. He has always been the prize to be cashed out and used. Even now, with all this money and power, it will never be him who comes to collect: it will always be the IPC. Winner takes all.

Such is his fate. Luck is always on his side, but he has always had the losing hand against destiny. No matter how many times he wins, there is nothing that will ever truly belong to him.

But then he met you.

Then he met you, and now his luck does not always feel like such a cruel or empty thing. Now the zero-sum game has meaning. He hedges his bets in the market and buys out a planet, and acquires you along with the shares. Winner takes all. He gambles his life against a nuclear power and comes out on top, and the IPC allows him to keep you by his side. Winner takes all. He plays a royal flush and wins at a table of slave traders, and he gets to fuck you until you can't think of any cock but his own. Winner takes all.

Gambling is a zero-sum game, and when you're the reward, Aventurine wouldn't have it any other way. He’ll never share you with anyone. He'll never sell you to anyone.

He’ll never lose you to anyone.

Sometimes it surprises him, this attachment he feels to you. He doesn't quite understand it, but he thinks it mostly just has to do with how good it feels to fuck you. Much like gambling, Aventurine has never enjoyed sex until you came along. Sex for him has always felt like a humiliation, like being gutted open as a captive animal, like being won and passed around in the grand hall of some gaudy casino.

Which is, in fact, another thing he never thought he'd enjoy: having sex in the Venetian Zhijin before an audience of revolting men. He'd resented having to do it as a slave, but he’d enjoyed doing it with you as a Stoneheart. He'd even do it again if he could—take you over and over again on that card table, fill you up with his cum. Spread your cunt in front of everyone, so they could see for themselves that you were now his. Winner takes all.

Winning doesn't feel empty when you're his reward. Sex doesn't either. Because Aventurine isn't a chip or an animal or a commodity when he fucks you—he's a player. Someone with a seat at the table, as just as wealthy and powerful as the slave traders around him. Someone who’s allowed to own something—really own something.

Really allowed to own you.

Aventurine owns you. When he fucks you, he is a player at the table, and you are the prize he gets to keep. And no matter how you feel about him and how you act toward him—this is all the two of you will ever be. He knows this. He knows that you know it too.

So sometimes he can't fathom it, the way he treats you in bed. The way he always kisses your commodity code when he sees it, the way he allows you to kiss his own. The way he always thinks about pleasuring you until you're drunk on his cock, so addicted to him that you’ll never want to be touched by anyone else. The way he always likes how your body feels when it's being shaped by his hands. How different it feels from being forced to touch other people.

How badly you make him want something that he's always hated.

And this is what he understands least of all: how he doesn't like to hear you say aloud the true nature of your relationship. How he doesn't like it when you accept this reality and say, you're only keeping me around for sex.

It hollows him out when he hears it. A bitter feeling swells in his throat, and he forces himself to swallow.

Aventurine keeps his face neutral as he enters the suite with you. As soon as the door is shut, you pull him close—close enough for him to see the blurred lines of your lipstick, smudged from his mouth; close enough to see the white diamond necklace on your neck, a collar for a concubine; close enough to see the finger-shaped discolorations on your throat, poorly hidden by your foundation.

Close enough to see all the things done to your body by others—all the things you didn't choose for yourself.

“How do you want to have me next?” Your fingertip traces his lips. “On the bed? In the shower?” Your eyes are playful. “Maybe against the window?”

Aventurine’s hand cups your cheek, gold rings pressed against your skin. His hold is delicate, more careful than with anything else he's ever handled—any of his watches, his furs, his jewellery. Even more than with the aventurine stone.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

You blink.

“Kiss me?” Your brow ticks up, but then your face lights up in supposed understanding. “Okay. You can kiss me. And then?”

“And then I'll keep kissing you.”

You tilt your head, not understanding. “Really?”

“What? Is that off-limits now?” He leans in, expression playful. “Don't tell me I've got to go back downstairs and win back permission to kiss you from your husband.”

Before you can say anything else—ask anything else, perceive anything else—he presses his mouth to yours. Your eyes widen for only a moment before falling shut, your arms wrapping around his neck. Your lips part for him, and he delights in the noise you make as he deepens the kiss.

He did lie, in a way. The two of you do end up fucking again—this time in bed, your mouth gasping into his as you fall apart for him, wet and needy around his cock. You're so warm around him, so pliable beneath him, so desperate when possessed by him. He knows that he could keep going, that he could do anything to you, that you'd be eager to let him use you however he wants.

But all he does afterward is kiss you.

This is yet another act that he never thought he'd enjoy. Kissing has always felt like a chore or a power play or a manipulation. It has always come with a certain emptiness—just like gambling, just like sex. And then he met you, and now it no longer feels so hollow. Because when he wins bets for the IPC, he feels like a poker chip in one of their games, but when he’s fucking you, he feels like a player at the table. And sometimes, when he kisses you—when he holds you close, when you come down from your high and press your face into the crook of his neck and in the vulnerable haze of your bliss, tell him, I missed you—

—he finally feels like a human being.

end notes: christ alive I have never written anything so horny glddjsksjs. I apologize for both my mid smut writing and deranged characterization 💔

initially this was supposed to be brainless pwp about aventurine eating you out on a poker table but I kept asking myself “why the hell did aventurine gamble for human beings and why are these two insane enough to be fucking in a casino tho lol”, and thus a coherent narrative was born from my shameless lust for this guy! but please also don't take the story too seriously because this is a dumb smut piece first and foremost and I mostly wrote it with my clit 😔✌️

that being said, if you are curious about the subject matter that I covered – here's an afterword expanding on my intentions with the themes.

[landorris]

melbourne anymore l oscar piatri x ex!reader

summary; where oscar and yn decide break up but they’re not very good at staying friends. part two

fc; madison beer

warnings; english is not my first language, kinda sad but cute, inspired by “kansas anymore” by role model <3

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

yourusername

liked by redbullracing, maxverstappen and others

yourusername oh f1 you’ve been good to me! thank you to @redbullracing for inviting me for the weekend and congratulations @maxverstappen1 on your win, amazing performance! 🦁🧡🏆

user1 first we don’t hear about yn for months, and then when we hear is f1 related AND about max…… WHAT HAPPEN WITH OSCAR

user2 yall i think they broke up

redbullracing thanks for coming queen! hope to see you again soon! our writing’s on the wall tell us you’ll be back 👀💙💙

yourusername 💙💙💙

user3 that last part is kinda sus

user4 what is yn up to

maxverstappen1 thank you yn!! hope to see you again soon!

yourusername hope to see you again soon to max!

user5 this friendship is amazing

yn’s phone

a month later….

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, mclaren and others

oscarpiastri thank you australia for this weekend, felt good to be home! 🇦🇺🦘🐨

user1 yn liking oh man…

user2 the friendship bracelets 💞💞💞

user3 yn is in australia, you think she was there?

user4 great race osc!

yn’s phone, first is the night after the race, second is the morning after

a few weeks later…

f1gossip

liked by user1, user2 and others

f1gossip spotted! oscar piastri walking around the paddock with a new girl! we haven’t seen him with a girl since he broke up with yn, seems like he moved on! we love to see him happy😁😁

user1 im pretty sure that’s norris sister

user2 lando would never let this happen

user3 yeah look at his happy face 😑

landossister that’s me! he was just keeping me company cuz my brother abandoned me, i also happen to have a boyfriend so please confirm everything before you post things like this, thanks!🧡

(ps. do you have any ideia how hard it is to find a photo of this man with lily where he isn’t all smiley and giggling????????? this man is IN love)

yn’s phone

moths later…

yourusername story

replies:

user1 oscar???

user2 who’s the musician guy?👀

yourbestfriend FINALLY

yourusername it’s coming out today i can’t belive

yourusername do you think people will like it?

yourusername what if he gets mad

yourbestfriend they’ll like it

yourbestfriend and he’ll be proud just like i am

yourusername i love you

yourbestfriend i love you too

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, oscarpiastri and others

yourusername heyy!! so i’ve been working on something for a few months now and i am more than proud to announce that my first album just came out!! i actually loved how this turned out and i hope you do to🫧🫧🫧🪽 melbourne anymore is now ours in all streaming plataforms 🤍🤍

yourbestfriend SO SO SO SO PROUD OF YOU

yourusername I LOVE YOU

user1 i didn’t know you could sing wtf

user2 this is amazing

user3 on repeat

user4 track five omg

user5 this is def about him

user6 mom and dad broke up

user7 a breakup album about oscar was not on my 2024 bingo card

user8 they still in love with each other

user9 superglue is so cute😭😭

user10 OSCAR LIKING😭😭😭😭😭😭

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, mclaren and others

oscarpiastri I dreamt of this day as a little kid back in Australia. A trutly unbelivable feeling. Thank you to everyone who helped me and everyone who belived in me. One down too many more to go 🧡🫧🪽

mclaren SHOW THEM HOW IT’S DONE

landonorris proud of you brother

user1 OMG OSCAR WON

user2 NOT HIM WINNING AFTER THE YN ALBUM

user3 the emoji choice😟 '

user4 yn must be so proud

user5 i wonder if he heard the album

yn’s phone

let me know if you liked it, and in case you did vote here to decide the ending, thank you for reading it!💞🪽🫧💘🐨

[niningtori]

i know it's over | oneshot

read the alternate ending here!

pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, kang taehyun x you

summary: you love beomgyu — you truly do — you just wish he loved you back, but after a particularly humiliating night in which he shows you just how little he cares, you finally decide enough is enough. enter kang taehyun, a sweet boy who's the polar opposite of beomgyu; but while you begin to develop your relationship with him, beomgyu realizes exactly what he's missing.

genre: ANGST, romance, hurt/comfort, fluff at the end

warnings: toxic relationships

word count: 7.3k

notes: repost/rewrite of one of my first works (formerly titled: to know him is to love him, and i do) THERE WILL BE AN ALTERNATE ENDING, YES the best friend's little brother!beomgyu au won the poll but i'm so hesitant to post it because i hate it so i thought i'd post this for now until i'm able to edit the other work enough to where it's not an actual eyesore.

you're tired. really tired. exhausted, even, as you stalk through the doorway of beomgyu's apartment. you practically tear off your coat, letting it land harshly on the living room floor with a slight thud. beomgyu rolls his eyes and picks it up with a sigh before hanging it up on the rack.

"i told you it was nothing. why are you freaking out?" he asks flatly.

"she was fucking you with her eyes, beomgyu!" you exclaim in frustration.

"and that's my fault how?"

"it's not your fault, but i'm sick of you entertaining women, let alone your actual fucking ex, while i'm standing right next to you!" his ex is just another fish in the barrel, or at least that's what he says, but the thought that they were intimate together at one point still makes you feel sick. truthfully, your boyfriend is handsome, so you've spent the better part of the past 10 months warding off the women who circle him like vultures. you wouldn't mind as much as you do if he seemed at all interested in helping you do so, especially when faced with his ex that you suspect he still has feelings for, but he does not. quite the opposite, actually. it's like he thrives off of the attention and, god, it hurts. 

"i'm not entertaining anybody. i told her i have a girlfriend now," he, well, you would say argues, but it's said so nonchalantly it doesn't warrant the term. 

"a girlfriend you proceeded to ignore while she hung off of your shoulders and laughed all night! i just don't understand how you don't understand how much it hurts my feelings. i'm a human, too! how would you feel if my ex, who was very clearly interested in me, hung around me right in front of you?" and it's like you're explaining empathy to a child. 

"me? i wouldn't give a fuck because it's not that serious," he replies with a slightly irritated shake of his head. 

it's always like this. always. you're always the one who cares more between the two of you. you were the one who asked him out in the first place. you were the one who initiated your first kiss. your first fight. hell, even your first reconciliation. you're not stupid, you know he doesn't feel quite the same way you do, but he has to feel something, right? otherwise, why would he say yes to you when he's rejected so many other women? your brain hurts trying to wrap your head around it all.

 "you're missing the point! if you were me, you would—" you begin frustratedly, but you cut yourself off. "you know what? i don't even have the energy to explain this to you. i don't understand why i have to explain basic human emotion to you, and i really don't understand why i have to beg and plead for you to care about how i feel!" you all but shriek.  

"you don't have to do shit, just leave if you're that fucking unhappy," he spits out angrily, which is the first real emotion — besides mild annoyance —  you've seen out of him this entire conversation. he gets impatient when you're like this, which usually results in you relenting, but not tonight. you're far too hurt to let go so easily.

"you're right! i am unhappy! i just — why don't you care that i'm unhappy? what can i do to make you give a fuck about me?" you have a brave face on but you can feel your eyes getting hot and your voice trembling ever so slightly. 

"you could try not being so damn needy, maybe that'd help."

your eyes redden even further and your lips unintentionally twist themselves into a sour frown. you hate it when he calls you needy because you do need a lot from him, it feels like. his time. his care. his attention and affection. yet you never seem to get it.

"do you not love me? like at all?" you ask. all of the venom in your tone has been sucked out mercilessly and you sound more helpless than angry.

"do you not realize how fucking crazy you sound?" he scoffs as if he can't fathom why you'd be upset. as if he's not watching you break down in real time. 

"why won't you give me a straight answer?" you question, voice softer than it was before.

he does nothing but scowl, and that's enough of an answer as it stands. he doesn't care. never has. probably never will. 

"then why'd you even say yes to dating me?" you truly don't understand. you thought you were different. you thought he saw something in you he didn't see in his harem of other suitors, and trust that there were many.  

"i dunno. i was just bored, i guess," he answers with a shrug and your world as you know it collapses. the man you love sees you as nothing more than a way to kill time. he's picking you up right now just to toss you away when the next shiny toy presents itself, and so far, you've let him drag you around because you love him — that's how much you love him — but looking at him now, at how unbothered he is, you wonder if you've even got anything left to give.

"i really do love you," you manage to squeeze out with a bitter smile. your poor heart is on display for the naked eye to see, and it seems like he really couldn't care less, but that won't stop you from asking: "does that mean anything at all to you?" 

"well, i'm sorry you feel that way," he says simply, "but that's not my fucking problem."

your heart sinks to your stomach and you feel like you're going to throw up. in this moment, as you watch the love of your life dismiss you like you're a fucking dog begging for scraps of food, you feel an overwhelming sense of clarity as you realize he doesn't love you. he doesn't even like you. he probably hates you, actually. like a mental montage, every moment in which he showed you that exact sentiment plays all at once in your head.

all those times you let him choose everything from movies to dinner because the idea of a compromise was inconceivable. all of those occasions, special and otherwise, where you were supposed to go out on a date, but he'd bail without a word and you'd forgive him with no apology. even something as menial as when you'd offer him your share of dessert because he ate all of his and you knew he wanted more, and he'd take it without so much as a thank you. how you'd sit and listen to him tell stories about how amazing his friends were, but he'd never even ask about your day. when those same friends would jokingly call you the perfect girlfriend, and you thought it was an indication of how good your relationship was, but in reality, it was a way to tease him because the thought of actually being with you was so abhorrent and ridiculous that it must be a joke. nobody likes a desperate girl, after all. all those times you told him you loved him and he'd just smile and kiss you deeper. memories like these flood your brain with a vengeance so cruel it makes your head ache, and in a way, you realize it's ridiculous to be surprised when there was so much proof of his feelings in the first place.  

"oh. okay," you say with what you hope is a soft and unbothered laugh, but comes out more as a choked one. "i guess there's nothing left to say. i'll get my shit and go." 

you hesitate for a few excruciatingly awkward moments before collecting yourself enough to start gathering your things, which are scattered haphazardly around his apartment from his bedroom to his bathroom. it's like a walk of shame, almost, and you feel even shittier when he plops down on the couch with a long suffering sigh as he begins to massage the bridge of his nose. you feel so small in this moment — like a petulant child who just got done throwing an unsuccessful tantrum — and you're now soaking in the sobering aftermath and sitting with the thought that he just watched you have a meltdown like he was watching a monkey putting on a show. how much more is he going to humiliate you? enough is enough, you think, so before you can actually finish collecting all of your belongings, you're scurrying out of the apartment. before you go, you glance back at him one last time. 

"beomgyu?" you ask tentatively, tears clouding your eyes. 

"yeah?" he replies with a sigh. this is it, you think.

"i don't want to see you ever again," you say firmly. before he can reply, if he ever intended to in the first place, you slam the door. 

-

there's a lot to love about beomgyu. for one, he's handsome, which is obvious, but he has a certain allure you could never help but be drawn in by. he's always been a charming man, but even more so when he's talking to a woman he's interested in. as interested as he could be, that is. he's funny and comically pompous when he wants to be, but still somehow down to earth despite it all. 

he's been described as a mood-maker, and while he grew to resent that term, you thought it was at least partially true, if only in the context of your relationship. when he's sad, you're devastated. when he's happy, you're over the fucking moon. his feelings are your whole world — or were, you guess, since all that's over now.

it wasn't all bad all the time, you think. there were times where you thought he really might reciprocate even a fraction of what you felt for him, and most of the time, that was enough. you could work with that. love looks different for everyone, you would reason. maybe he just had a funny way of showing it. 

there were days where you'd laugh together and end the night lying in each other's arms while you'd cradle him like he was the most precious thing in the whole world because, to you, he really was. he was normally so boisterous when with his friends, but while he would never admit it to anyone else, he'd tell you about some of his insecurities while you gently combed your fingers through his long, silky hair. he'd speak of regrets and longing for people to take him more seriously. he'd never say it, but he wanted people to see you like you saw him. the real him. you'd let him cry while your hands cupped his cheeks and you'd shush him while he fiddled mindlessly with your hair like a child. you'd kiss the tip of his reddened nose until he laughed instead of cried. times like those, you'd really think you were someone special to him, but now you realize you were wrong. you were just an outlet for him, and anyone willing to be an emotional dumping ground would do the trick, too.

after a few weeks of moping, your sadness has begun to morph into anger and resentment. you spent nearly a year of your life trying to make an emotionally stunted man care about you, and that's not even counting the years of pining over him before you finally worked up the courage to ask him out. it was difficult to see it in the moment, but after being away from him for so long, it's crystal clear that he was honestly just an asshole who didn't really like you. nothing more, nothing less. maybe he'd find someone to change for someday, maybe he'd even work things out with his ex, but for whatever reason, you weren't her. that's just the way it goes, you guess. what really bothers you are the "what if's" of the situation. what if you were prettier, or smarter, or kinder; would he have seen you for who you really are? would he have grown to appreciate you if you had given him more to appreciate? 

either way, there's no use crying over spilled milk now. you won't be going back to him any time soon, and he certainly won't come crawling back to you. you'll continue to think of him less and less until your time together fades into a distant (and unpleasant) memory. you smile at the thought.

-

the first time beomgyu realizes just how impactful your absence is, nothing in particular happens. it's a regular tuesday night a week or so after your "breakup" and he's bored out of his mind. he showers, listens to music, texts his friends and makes himself dinner, but something is missing. 

as he sits on his couch, he realizes what it is: you. right about now, you should be pestering him to hang out and showing up on his doorstep to watch a movie. he'd roll his eyes at first, but eventually relent as long as he got to pick the movie, of course. he wouldn't say it, but he'd actually enjoy glancing over and seeing your reactions. you were comically expressive and every twist and turn of the plot had your eyes bulging and mouth agape, turning to him for confirmation that he was seeing the same things you were. when you watched inception for the first time, it absolutely rocked your world.

he's alone, but he puts on a movie, anyway. every so often, his head turns to the side with the corner of his mouth raised, but you're not there to give a reaction. he should be used to your absence by the third twist, but he still finds himself subconsciously turning to you throughout the rest of the movie. when the credits roll, he's half expecting to hear you chatter on about how crazy it was, but it's silent. the only time that would happen would be when you'd accidentally drift off in spite of how engrossed you were. you'd try to fight it off like a stubborn kid, but would succumb by the final act. he smiles at the memory before shaking his head in disbelief. what's wrong with him? 

moments like these plague him more and more frequently, but the most notable one is the night before his first day at a new job. he briefly talks to his friends about his excitement, but he's too embarrassed to divulge just how anxious he is. times like this, he'd come over and complain for however long he needed. you'd sit and nod, asking questions during his pauses to encourage him to continue, always adding appropriate and thoughtful commentary. 

his thoughts wander to how you're doing alone. you really love him, it seems, so he can only imagine how you're faring without him. he wishes you hadn't blocked his number so he could at least ask how you are. maybe you'd even tell him you miss him. not for the first time, he begins to wonder if he pushed you too far this time around. you've gotten angry and given him the silent treatment before, sure, but you've never blocked him and you've certainly never done it for so long. 

he looks you up on instagram for the first time since your breakup. he's not terribly surprised when he sees he's blocked on there too, but all it takes is a switch to his photography account, which you had forgotten to block, to see what you're up to now. 

the first thing he notices is a picture of you sitting outside with an ice cream cone in hand, sun encircling you. your smile is beaming and your eyes are crinkled and he can almost hear your giggle through the screen. the caption reads "ice cream date with my best friend!”

he scrambles through his memories to try to remember a time in recent history when you two did something similar, but he comes up blank. what he does recall, though, is you mentioning a new frozen yogurt place you wanted to visit with him for your birthday. he nodded in response, but he knew he wouldn't go with you, opting instead to get shitfaced with his friends. in retrospect, maybe you knew it, too. he had checked his phone the next morning and saw he had at least half a dozen missed calls and well over a dozen texts from you. when he finally texted you back, you took almost a full 5 hours to respond, which was uncommon. usually, you'd text back within minutes. it occurred to him later on that that was your version of the silent treatment, and it amused him that you could only hold out for a few hours. he honestly found it kind of cute. 

he remembers what you did for his birthday. how you had secretly invited his friends over to his apartment to surprise him after an especially shitty day at work. he came home to an elaborately decorated apartment and all of his favorite people greeting him. he remembers how happy you looked when he opened up your present to him, which was the guitar he had always secretly wanted but could never quite justify buying for himself. you were so excited, any spectator would think he had gotten you the gift of your dreams and not the other way around. you were practically buzzing with excitement when he pulled you in for a kiss. his friends had whooped at the display of affection, and you giggled shyly at their reaction. what did he get you for your birthday again? anything?

he spends days pondering over this and similar circumstances, which eventually turn into weeks upon weeks. what starts as a nagging feeling that he may have gone too far in his neglect for you becomes guilt and anxiety. he recalls just how torn up you seemed the last time he saw you. to be honest, at the time, he was mostly just irritated. but he never thought you'd actually leave. all he can see is that awful look on your face when you finally ended everything, and all he can remember is the fact that he put it there. he knows in his heart that he has no right to feel this way, but he feels it all the same. 

-

you would have never imagined you'd actually like somebody other than beomgyu, but taehyun makes it as easy as possible given the sticky circumstances. you met at a club your best friend dragged you to, both you and taehyun had to remain sober (designated drivers, of course) and ended up having a surprisingly engaging conversation amidst the blaring music and strobe lights. after that, the rest is history. 

he can tell you've been hurt before, but he gently coaxes you into opening up as you spend more and more time with him. you're afraid of being overbearing and coming across as a lovesick puppy again, but taehyun is gentle and seems to enjoy your attention and affection, even if he's a surface level tsundere. more than that, he actually reciprocates it. 

do you still think about beomgyu? of course. do you miss him? well, you'd never admit it to a single soul, but the way you see him in everything has to be an indicator that you do. it's getting better, though. more bearable. 

a month or so into your relationship, you post about taehyun for the first time. you don't know why you're so nervous about announcing to the world that you have a boyfriend again, but happiness overwhelms your fear when you're met with nothing but positivity. 

-

beomgyu is shellshocked, to put it mildly. the picture of you and your so-called boyfriend is sickly sweet. it's not over the top or anything—just a candid of you in a café holding hands with him while looking over the same menu. the caption is nothing other than a heart and squirrel emoji (why?) and both he and your best friend are tagged. his finger jumps to the boy's profile and he sees the same photo. he scoffs at the cheesiness of it all, but his heart aches at the way all of your friends have commented on the post expressing their happiness for you — they had never approved of him for reasons he's only now beginning to understand.

you always defended him in front of your friends no matter what he did or didn't do. you'd "comfort" him after your friends said something snarky and explain that they just didn't understand him. you'd say that if they knew the real him, they'd see him differently. at the time, he'd scoff and say something along the lines of "i don't need for them to see me differently because i couldn't give less of a fuck about what they think”. you'd be hurt, of course you would be, but you'd never say so.

more and more, like an outsider looking in, he can see just how awful he was to you. it's to his horror that he realizes this must be the case for you, too. the chances of you getting back together with him seem slimmer and slimmer, especially now that you've got that pretty boy on your arm. your words echo in his mind as if to haunt him: "what can i do to make you give a fuck about me?" leave, apparently, and don't look back. 

he can't keep living like this. 

-

a knock on your door is all it takes to ruin your night — you had actually had a really good day up until now. you and taehyun had gone on a breakfast date and napped together until he had to leave in the afternoon, so you're humming now in contentment while applying your nightly skincare, thinking relentlessly about the boy you think you might be starting to love. it feels different from the love you felt for beomgyu, but in a good way. you still think about him and wonder how he's doing, but you always derail that train of thought with a god-given force previously unknown to you. he doesn't care about you, you chant to yourself — it's almost like your daily mantra. in the midst of your thoughts, you hear a knock on the door. you smile widely when you surmise that it's probably taehyun again. you don't realize just how big your grin is until it drops. 

standing before you is not your lovely boyfriend, but the man who made you question whether or not you were even lovable in the first place. he has a small smile on his face, and if you were to look a little more carefully, you'd notice that he actually seems a little nervous. 

"hi," he says, breaking the silence. his heart is racing a mile a minute, and potential scenarios battered his mind the entire way here. what would you do when you saw him? smile? he could handle that. cry? he could also handle that, even if he didn't want to see your tears. what he is not prepared for is the blankness of your features when you ask: 

"what are you doing here?" 

his smile falters almost imperceptibly.

"i, uh, i just wanted to see you." you're merciful enough to give him a nod of encouragement to continue. "a-and i wanted to tell you that i haven't stopped thinking about you for the past few months, and that i, um, i think i'm finally ready to be with you," he finishes with a shaky breath.

you're quiet for a moment and squint your eyes as if you're deep in thought.

"but i thought you were dating someone now? your ex?"

"i'm not!" he says almost a little too quickly.

"i heard you were," you counter, not quite believing him. you heard he had been seeing his ex from one of your friends who happened to live in her apartment complex. she had seen his car in the parking lot a few times in the last couple of weeks and had no reason to lie to you.

"w-well, i've seen her a few times, but not seriously. i — to be honest, i was just trying to get over you, but i've finally realized that i can't becau—"

"so, just to make sure i understand, you're not over me so you're seeing her?" his eyes widen in shock before his head hangs in shame as he realizes exactly what he's done and how he must look to you right about now, but you're not finished. "isn't that what you were doing with me?" your voice is low and indifferent, but each word feels tailor-made to slash at his heart. "wow, i guess some things really never change, but don't worry, i'm sure once she moves on, you'll finally see the good in her instead of me," you spit out.

"can you listen to me? please?" beomgyu is so ashamed he wants to die. he fumbles for the right words, but when he accidentally makes eye contact with you, they die on his lips. he wishes you would give him time to process what you're saying and mull over what to respond with because you always knew he was bad with words, but he supposes he lost the right to your patience a long time ago.

"you want me to listen to you so you can fuck with my head until the next person rolls around?" the latter words are strangled by the tightness in your throat, and he can't help but wince. when he thinks it's over, you continue. 

"nobody has ever made me feel as small as you have. i hated myself because of you," your lip trembles and before he can say a word, you're raising your hand to shut the door.

"wait, wait, wait! just let me say this," he pleads as he gently grasps the doorframe. "i... i love you." he almost thinks he hears you gasp, but he's too busy looking into your unreadable eyes to know for sure. he has never said anything like this to you before. you're completely silent for a few moments before breaking the tense atmosphere.

"j-jesus, i mean, i guess i just don't know what to say," you sputter and his eyes alight with what looks suspiciously like hope. "except maybe that... i'm sorry you feel that way?" you finish with a sardonic smile and a roll of your eyes. before he can respond, which he actually intends to do this time around, you slam the door in his face.

-

if you were to ask beomgyu if he loved his ex mere months ago, he'd say he didn't know for sure, but probably. they ended things rather messily, which seems to be a trend for him, but if he really thinks about it, he doesn't know what he liked about her after all. if he had to pinpoint it, he liked the thrill of the chase and the idea of never knowing how explosive things would inevitably get between the two of them. he liked the toxicity. only now does he understand that that wasn't love at all, but some sort of sick game of hurting and being hurt he doesn't want to play anymore. he doesn't want to hurt the people around him, especially not you, but it would appear that that sentiment has presented itself a little too late. 

there's always been a lot to love about you. always. you're so kind and so incredibly patient, at least with the people you love. you're thoughtful and intentional with your words and actions. you're not perfect, but you try your best to be a good and fair person. and you listen. like, really listen. the kind of listening where you're not just waiting for your turn to talk, but the kind where you genuinely want to know what the other person has to say. even if he didn't know it at the time, beomgyu always did love you. was it in the way you deserved? obviously, with the way things are now, it's perfectly clear it was not. 

even if he does bump into you, it's completely pointless. you made it perfectly clear that you want nothing to do with him. the last thing you said to him echoes in his head with an unspeakable viciousness. 

"i'm sorry you feel that way." he didn't realize just how cruel those words were until they were falling from your lips instead of his. he didn't realize just how cruel he was in general. 

he ponders over how succinctly you summed up your entire dynamic:

"i don't understand why i have to explain basic human emotion to you, and i really don't understand why i have to beg and plead for you to care about how i feel!" to be honest? he doesn't understand why you had to do that, either. 

contrary to what one might suppose about him given his overall shitty personality, he had actually had a pretty good go at life. he was innately able to make the world sit and watch him go, and he wouldn't let anyone forget it. but what should he do since you don't want to watch him anymore? what should he do since you don't want anything to do with him anymore? 

as he sits in the extremely uncomfortable chair of his new least favorite bar, he's confronted by this truth over and over again. he's not completely sure why he's even here — he hates this place, but he remembers you mentioning you liked to come here. in hindsight, there's no doubt that that was a way to hint that you'd like to come with him, but what use is it to recognize it now, after all this time? 

not much, apparently. or at least that's what his conscience is telling him. he should leave, he thinks. he should stop coming here every night hoping he'll run into you because it's wrong to make you uncomfortable when you've said in no uncertain terms that you don't want him anymore. he should, he should, he should. and he will, really. in just a minute. that's what he tells himself, but he just watches the door as he gets drunker and drunker, still.

he's on the brink of literally passing out when he hears a sound he'd recognize anywhere: your laugh. he actually thinks he's hallucinating just because he wants to hear it so fucking badly, but it takes the sound of your voice to convince him it's real. you're actually here. he's incredibly drunk, so the idea of being tactful escapes him. he can't miss this chance.

-

you try, and try, and try some more, but you can't seem to forget beomgyu's last words to you. he loves you? you scoff at the idea. does he even know what love is? it doesn't feel like it —  truly, it doesn't. if that's what his love feels like, you'd rather not feel it at all. 

that's what you keep trying to hammer into your head along with the idea that you're doing well, and you are doing well. seriously. things with taehyun are better than ever and you can really see yourself building a life with him. everything feels so pure and brand new. your feelings for him may lack the intensity that you felt with beomgyu, but that was years in the making, so it's only fair that you nurture the love that's blossoming between the two of you while smothering out the embers of what used to be with beomgyu. it's only right, right? it should be, but the way you're so torn makes your head spin.

so you decide to go to your favorite bar and forget about everything for the night. it's been a long while since you've let loose, and you're excited. you're surrounded by your friends and you're ready to let go. it's only when you excuse yourself to get some fresh air that you realize fate has other plans. 

when you're walking to the curb to take a seat, you feel a tug on your elbow and whip around. 

"who —" you stop dead in your tracks as your eyes meet with beomgyu's misty ones. the ones you used to love so much. 

"hey," he says weakly.

"what do you want?" you seethe while harshly yanking your elbow from his grasp. his lips purse and even in the dim lighting outside of the bar, you can see his eyes water even more. he's always been such a baby when he's drunk. 

"i just wanna talk," he pleads. he sounds so out of it and looks so pathetic you almost feel bad for him. almost.

"i have nothing to say to you," you reply coldly. 

"but i do." he sounds desperate to a degree that you sincerely never thought you'd hear.

"what, are you gonna tell me you love me again?" you retort with a roll of your eyes. you're obviously being sarcastic, but all he can think in his drunken state is how pretty your eyes shine even when they're impatient to look away from him.

"if you're not gonna say anything, i'm leaving," you snap, turning away, but beomgyu is awoken from his daze and gently pulls you back.

"n-no! i mean, yes. i love you, b-but that's not what i wanted to say."

"well, what did you want to say?" you ask, tone laced with annoyance. 

seeing that you'll actually give him a chance to hear him out, he scrambles for a moment before clearing his throat. he’s so anxious that you can see his hands shaking as he wrings them.

"i just want to tell you that i’m sorry. i know i’ve said it before, but i want you to hear it again, and i’ll tell you as many times as it takes for you to believe me. i want to make it up to you — i really do — and i know that i can change. i'm — i just miss you so much i can't stand it. i-if you don’t feel the same way, or don’t care, or however it is, i understand; but i meant it when i said i love you, and i mean it now when i say that i'm so, so fucking sorry," his voice cracks as he finishes and hot tears threaten to find their way down his face. 

"beomgyu..." you begin, not really sure what to say. what is there to say? and any hope he has of being with you is almost extinguished when he sees how much you pity him in this moment, but he'll hold on for as long as you'll let him.

"you said you saw the real me. you know i'm not all bad, right? i'm a piece of shit, but i can't be all bad," he pleads, tears now streaming unabashedly from his eyes. maybe if he can just find the right words, you won't leave him.

"beomgyu," you sigh, "i've never thought that about you. i know you're not all bad," his face perks up at this and he's tempted to bury his face in your neck and sob in pure relief. the pain he's been feeling for the past few months is about to be over because you understand him. always have. even though he's like this, you can still see the good in him. just the thought alone is enough to fill him with pure ecstasy. he goes to close the distance between the two of you to pull you into his embrace, but you gently place your hand on his chest before he can come any closer.

"thank you for telling me how you feel, beomgyu, but if you think you can fix everything with a few words, you're delusional." his face crumbles at this and a sense of panic and dread pools in his stomach.

"w-what? b-but you said —" 

"i know you're sorry, and i know you'd probably try to make it up to me if i let you, but that's not enough. you really hurt me, okay? and it's just, you know, i'm finally happy now, and i have taehyun. i really like him, beomgyu. and he really likes me," you say with a fond smile, as if you're thinking of taehyun right now, and his heart shatters into a million pieces. 

"it's okay," he smiles bitterly, tears still flowing freely. "i... i understand. i just want you to be happy. i want you to be so happy. you deserve it."

"but..."

"go back in," he sniffles. "you don't need to stay here with me anymore." he swipes at his eyes with his sleeve and tries to send you off with a smile, but it's so forlorn, you wish he'd just keep frowning.

"... okay." you turn away, and even though he told you to do it, he can't help but feel an even bigger lump in his throat now that you're actually listening to him.

"beomgyu?" you say softly, before you enter the door. 

his damned heart can't help but flutter again against his will. 

"yes?" 

"don't wait for me anymore, okay?" and he knows you’re being kind, but it feels so final, it hurts more than any hateful words ever could. he should agree, but the ugly and selfish part of him refuses to lie, so he just shakes his head and waves you off. his love is ugly and his heart is broken, but it's still yours to have. 

"I'm sorry," he murmurs again to nobody but himself as you enter the bar.

-

“tyuuunn,” you whine into your phone’s speaker. you can’t tell how it's been since your final conversation with beomgyu, but now you’re drunk and all you can think about is taehyun. about his kindness, how happy he makes you feel, and how much you want to give him all of that in return.

“what is it, baby?” he coos. even in your inebriated state, you can hear the smile in his voice and it makes you wanna smile, too. 

“miss youuu,” you groan. he laughs at your childishness, and you can feel just how much he’s doting on you. it’s a relatively new feeling, being cared for like this, but it’s one you welcome with fervor.

“let me pick you up from that stupid bar so you can stay the night. how’s that sound?” 

“mmm, hurry up,” you pout, and he just laughs again. god, you’re gonna feel so embarrassed by your neediness come tomorrow morning, and he can’t wait to tease you. 

taehyun is so eager to see you, he almost gets pulled over twice while making his way to the bar. he just can’t wait to see how cute you’ll look in his arms, all whiny and grumpy and begging for affection; and he’ll baby you, like he always does, because you deserve it. when he had heard about your appalling history with beomgyu, he couldn’t believe how someone could treat a person as sweet as you so cruelly. truth be told, you do have a bit of a softer personality, but that only evoked the need to protect and cherish you in taehyun. he can’t fathom the idea that somebody would see someone so pure and decide to take advantage instead of nurturing that innocence. his friends keep saying he’s a sucker, and they’re probably right, but he’ll happily be one for you. 

he’s lost in his thoughts when he pulls into the parking lot of the bar you’re in, but his dopey grin drops the second he sees your dreaded ex stumbling away from the building. his face is red, and he’s feverishly wiping away tears and snot. taehyun is a smart man, so he can easily piece together what must have happened, but the thought that you were still thinking of taehyun in this moment comforts him. you had run into your ex, and instead of running back to him, you’re thinking of your new boyfriend. what a relief. taehyun has always known you were still a little broken up about your split with beomgyu. he came into this relationship fully knowing that, but he liked you so much, he really didn’t care. maybe it was rash of him, but he thought it was worth taking a chance. he thought you were worth taking a chance, and so far, he had been correct. 

he parks and stays in his car. if he were a petty person, he might ignore beomgyu and just walk right by him with his arm wrapped around your waist. taehyun, however, is a good person. so good, in fact, he waits for beomgyu’s friend to pick him up before leaving his car to find you.

when he enters the bar, he scans the crowd before he finds you sitting with your friends. your phone is to your ear and it only takes a few seconds for his own to ring. he smiles when he sees your contact photo (the one you both took on a date to your favorite frozen yogurt shop) appear on his screen. he rejects the call and watches you pout before striding over to you and placing his hand on your shoulder. you turn around with a scowl, but your features immediately melt, and you grace him with a toothy grin. you excitedly squeal and wrap your arms around him. he matches your enthusiasm as he peppers your face with kisses.

beomgyu, who has very unfortunately come back to get his phone, watches it all and it’s enough to make him nauseous. he’s in such a daze as he watches you two that he barely registers his own friend honking at him to hurry up. he sees the afterimage of you leaning into taehyun’s touch and accepts the fact that you’ve truly moved on and won’t be coming back. he replays the last conversation you had and he decides he’ll hold onto your words forever. they’re all he has left, after all.

-

you’re so used to taehyun’s apartment that even though you’re drunk enough to see stars, you’re still able to navigate it with ease. taehyun sits you down on his couch and kneels while removing your shoes for you. 

“so chivalrous,” you giggle. 

“anything for my princess,” he replies cheekily with the biggest grin you’ve ever seen. 

“why are you so nice?” 

“because i like you,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“i like you, too.” you whisper while your face warms. your gaze becomes heated, and he cups your cheeks while gently guiding your face towards his. his touch is soft, and his lips? even softer. 

he doesn’t push for more. you’re drunk and vulnerable at the moment, so he graciously grabs some of his clothes for you to change into and waits for you to come to bed. when you do, you plop down and he pulls you into his arms. you smile at his earnestness. he locks his arms around you, and for the first time in your life, a man is making you feel so happy and secure you can’t help but melt into the feeling. you feel safe. you feel loved.

“i really like you, you know?” he whispers into your hair, and it’s all you can do to keep your heart inside of your chest. 

“i know. i really like you, too.” and you do. things with taehyun are still new, but as his breathing slows, you realize this is how love should be, and you think you want to be with him for a long, long time.

notes pt. 2: yes there will be an alternate ending where she ends up with gyu :,)

[taglist]

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[naburi]

DO YOU THINK I’M PRETTY?

MOMO X READER

TAGS: NTR, GANGBANG, DOUBLE PENETRATION, MOUTHFUCK, CREAMPIE, REVENGE SEX

1.6K WORDS

You heard men laughing in the background, they can’t comprehend what is happening right before their eyes. It was 6 cocks surrounding a kneeling girl who's still in her school uniform. The video shows your childhood friend trying to put two cocks in her mouth.

It’s a slow afternoon in the campus, the professor's voice can’t find its way into your ear as you seem too deep in your thoughts. You want to have a conversation with her to know how she let that happen. Momo is your childhood friend, you grew up together and you know she’s not that type of person. How can the innocent and naive girl, who easily gets scared over the smallest of things let herself get used like a fuckdoll by the varsity team.

One of the varsity players in the video is your classmate, he boastingly shows you the video of them doing it with Momo. He said they invited Momo to a late night celebration as they won over a rival division. He said the girl knew that it was all men there but still decided to hang out. You wanted to ask for more details but your classmates easily got irritated and jokingly said that you should see how she’s begging them to not stop filling her holes. It made you angry how he brags about it but it also made you feel jealous, if it wasn’t for your shyness, you could have confessed your feelings to your childhood friend.

You decided to message her later in the night, you wanted to make sure that she’s okay. You’re in limbo if you should open up about the video you saw but you’re afraid to make her uncomfortable.

“He cheated with my classmate,” Momo said in the text message. The star player of the varsity team breaks her heart. This is her first relationship and first heartbreak, you can’t imagine how hurt she must have felt.

“Can I visit you tomorrow?” You asked, you wanted to comfort her, it’s been a long time since you spent time with one another. She has been distant to you ever since she got a boyfriend.

You’re infront of her apartment waiting for her to open the door, you are bringing canned beers and some snacks just like she requested. Momo welcomes you with her “just woke up” face. She’s wearing a tight crop top which gives you a better look of her nipples as she’s not wearing anything underneath, her exposed skinny waist which looks like she hasn't eaten anything good for a while, and her loose shorts that’s hanging too low in her small waist. This look of her made you feel hot the seconds you saw her.

You made fun of how she probably hasn't taken a bath for a few days which she loudly denies those allegations, you keep exchanging insults and banters like how it was when you were younger. Sitting comfortably in her living area, Momo opens the canned bears as the conversation gets serious. She’s tearing up while explaining how she found her boyfriend cheated on her. They have been together for a few months and she admitted that she gives her virginity to him because he threatens to break up with her.

“I watched a video of my boyfriend getting his dick sucked by my classma…,” she can’t finish her sentence as she’s still hurt by what he found on her ex’s phone.

Momo stated that she wants to hit back at her ex by “dating” one of his teammates, not telling her that you know what really happened, how you watched a video of the 6 teammates taking turns putting their dick on her destroyed tight pussy. Momo is laying on her back in a small dining table, lifted skirt, exposed boobs through her opened up uniform, masturbating dicks on both her hands, her tongue giving two dicks equal attention, one member pumping his dick inside her while the other member is making sure that all of this are getting recorded.

She asked to cheer bottles before you both drank the beer. She goes on to share how terrible her boyfriend is while your mind is playing the part of the video where the girl in front of you is getting her mouth stuffed by a thick cock while his pussy getting rammed at the same time. The boys in the background loudly cheer about the erotic scene they are witnessing. Some of them are getting their hands through her tight body feeling up all of her softness. Some slaps and grope her boobs while it’s aggressively moving due to the pounding she’s taking in both directions. The video closed up on her drooling mouth while she’s still getting mouthfucked, then it pans out to her crempied pussy while it’s still getting pounded hard.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” The more she drinks, the more Momo opens up to you. You were stunned by her sudden questions, you remember the times that you almost confessed to her but pulled back at the last second.

“I like you,” you said softly, maybe it’s the alcohol but you finally found courage to confess to her. You're looking at her in the eyes hoping for an answer.

“Kiss me,” Momo said with a straight face. She doesn’t have the same feelings for you but the fact that one person likes her is enough for her.

Your body moves first before you can comprehend what’s happening. You started to kiss her aggressively knowing you waited for this for a long time. Your hands sink down as you grope her boobs, wanting more, you pull up her crop top. You pinch and pull her hard nipples which made Momo moan. You made her lay down on her sofa while kissing hard on her neck making sure she will go to school with the hickeys you made.

You remember how the 6 boys left kiss bruises all over her body, not wanting to get out done, from her neck to her tits, you made sure to leave as many hickeys as they left.

Momo felt hot the way you hungrily kissed her body. She guides your head to her shorts. You notice the wet spot forming in her shorts, you pull down to see how wet she is. This is the same pussy that gets rammed by the players. Blinded by anger, you put two fingers quickly inside her. Momo gasped by your sudden movement, she starts to moan loudly as you ram your fingers directly into her g-spot. She has no idea that this aggressiveness stems from pain you felt after watching her get gangbanged.

“FUCK ME PLEASE” she shouted out with her orgasm.

You wasted no time, you aligned your cock in her entrance. Looking at her in the eyes, she have the same look back when they are taking turns fucking her. She’s looking at you like she’s pleading to get her pussy pounded hard, which you’re more than happy to give. You hold her small waist to fuck her hard from the get go. You wanted to fuck her more aggressive than they did to her, you pound your dick inside out to her like you want her pussy to only remembers your cock.

Momo can only moan with her eyes closed as she’s getting overwhelmed by the pleasure your dick is giving. She remembers the time that she caught you staring at her body but doesn’t confront you with it to retain your friendship, she never thought you could fuck her as hard as your doing right now.

You put her thick legs over your shoulder to get deeper inside her, this made Momo intensely moan, you go deeper each thrust making sure you feel all of her inside. You felt her inside walls tighten, signaling she’s near orgasm again. Your thrusts get harder as you're about to cum as well. She asked you to pull out but you remember how all of the boys creampie on her, felt insulted by her suggestions, you fucked her pussy rapidly making both of you orgasm in unison.

You pulled out and watched how your cum, drip out of her. She moves her body to the side like she’s about to sleep which you didn’t let her. You move her head hanging over the sofa just her position in the video. Momo is trying to protest but you are hellbent on destroying her holes more than they did to her. You shove your stiff cock in her mouth, you see the form of your cock down her throat. The girl is mumbling, trying to say something but you pull your cock just to hardly put it back down her throat. You hold her head in position as you continue your rampage against her mouth.

You saw her mouth drool just like it did in the video, which pushed you even more to pump her mouth longer. You notice that she’s stopped mumbling which makes you worry that you go too far. You pulled out your cock but kept slapping your wet dick to her face reminding her that you’re not with her. Momo gasped for air but it didn’t take long before you put it back inside her throat to continue using her mouth. The girl is moving her tongue around your cock while it’s inside her mouth to give you more pleasure, accepting her faith that she's your fuckdoll now. This added pleasure made your cock twitch. You groan Momo’s name as you leave out a huge load deep down her throat. Untidy hair, teary eyes, cum drooling out her mouth. You made Momo a mess.

[onlyangel4]

healing a heart i didn't break. LH44. MV1. SMAU. final part.

cheater! lewis hamilton x reader. max verstappen x reader.

when your boyfriend of three years fumbles, his rival is there to put the pieces of your heart back together bit by bit.

warnings: 14 year age gap with lewis. cursing. cheating.

author's note: thank you for all the love on this series. this is the final part, i'm so glad you all enjoyed it. i will be taking requests for this couple in both smau and blurb/written forms if you want to see more of them or specfic moments between them. i am also going to need ideas for new fics with different pairings so please send me a request

part one // part two // part three // part four

f1wags

liked by user19, user23, f1fan32 and 138,928 others

f1wags: is it over between lewis hamilton and a pregnant y/exbff. papparazzi photos captured an explosive argument outside of y/exbff's los angeles home. lewis then left and got straight on a private jet ready for the qatar gp.

view all 4,568 comments

user19: finally, this couple has been completely awful

user23: y/n is thriving and these two are crumbling, we love to see it

f1fan32: war is over

y/exbff

written: yes me and lewis did break up. but we will continue to collaborate for this baby

verstappenupdates

liked by f1fan22, user8, user53 and 78,902 others

verstappenupdates: max at a very rare non f1 related public engagment. he was at the london premiere for the new film in the scream franchise. he arrived with y/n who he has become very close to after her break up with lewis hamilton. his jet is scheduled to take off in a few hours for qatar

view all 8,283 comments

user8: y/n has been quoted numerous times saying that the scream films are her favourite. max made sure to make time in his busy schedule so he could accompany her there. that is what my girl deserves.

user53: there are videos of y/n walking the carpet and max in the background just staring. honestly same.

f1fan22: is it toxic of me to think they are together

y/ninsta

liked by carmenmundt, maxverstappen,alexandrasaintmleux and 789,928 others

y/ninsta: it's a real scream baby

view all 11,928 comments

alexandrasaintmleux: ferrari red suits you

y/ninsta: shhh don't tell him that

user6: who tf is he y/n, alex tell us what you know

maxverstappen: you know what maybe i do like scary movies now

y/ninsta: see i told you that you would love it. thank you for coming with me

user15: on the day y/exbff confirms that she broke up with lewis y/n posts her going to see the new installment of her favourite franchise with her ex boyfriend's rival. we all know who won that break up

maxverstappen posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: the only person that will go to a donut shop in full glam after a premiere

f1updates

liked by f1fan, user43, user12 and 45,834 others

f1updates: the drivers arriving to the last race of the season. max verstappen will officially be world champion for the fourth time after this race

view all 782 comments

f1fan: the video of max walking through the paddock on facetime to y/n grabbing all the other drivers to say hi to her is the cutest thing

user12: the first last race of a season that y/n has missed in four years. what a sad day.

user43: max verstappen world dominance

f1

liked by maxverstappen, redbullracing, y/ninsta and 1,232,814 others

f1: max was going to be world champion no matter the outcome tonight. but he decided to show us all just how good he is by taking the win. what a worthy champion!

view all 20,348 comments

y/ninsta: i am at a modelling shoot and i am sobbing. they hate me.

user39: wishing you were there

redbullracing: that is our boy

user2: him facetiming y/n as soon as he got off that podium was so cute

user1: there better be a drive to survive episode on the y/n situation

y/ninsta posted two stories tagging maxverstappen

story one written: my entire team getting me ready so i can sit and watch max win the world championship

story two: drinking two drinks to celebrate two wins. world championship and p1. let's go baby.

f1wags

liked by user12, user52, user71 and 341,238 others

f1wags: is y/n back in her wag era? footage shows y/n at a private airport in paris running over to max and jumping into his arms. and we are pretty sure we saw a kiss as well. we love this couple and really hope that they are together

view all 18,721 comments

user12: lewis hamilton found throwing his phone in a river

user52: that footage is the cutest thing ever. i love them.

user71: oh they are so in love, they have to be together

y/ninsta

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, danielricciardo,landonorris and 1,231,110 others

y/ninsta: my boyfriend is the current world champion

view all 20,112 comments

maxverstappen: i couldn't have done it without your encouragment my love

y/ninsta: yeah those midnight facetime calls are the reason you won. not your skill. for sure.

danielricciardo: thank god, i had to stop lando from calling you max's girlfriend in public yesterday. he would have not lasted any longer.

landonorris: mate you said you weren't going to tell her

alexandrasaintmleux: the best double date partners

y/ninsta: so happy to not be third wheeling you and charles anymore

user6: the fact that she never got to say that when she was with lewis i'm so happy for our girl

maxverstappen

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, georgerussell and 2,310,122 others

maxverstappen: my girlfriend is a vogue model

view all 27,810 comments

y/ninsta: so obsessed with you

maxverstappen: good because i'm so obsessed with you

alexandrasaintmleux: thank you for looking after my girl

maxverstappen: of course, i would do anything for her

user2: the matching captions. i am so single.

danielricciardo: i took the first three photos, y'all need to pay me

user5: daniel being their personal photographer is the cutest thing

taglist: @sinofwriting@toldyouitwasamelodrama@formulaal@minkyungseokie@shrbehndwn@gr1mes-cc@nichmeddar@liberty-barnes@kravitzwhore@annaluna12 @noooway555 @dark-night-sky-99@scenesofobx@karinalandazuritumblrcom@shelbyteller@sfx1nas@yukimaniac @demiguisemoon @sleutherclaw

[lsargeantsgirl]

Reserve

pairing: max verstappen x f2 driver reader

word count: 1.3k

Summary: Max meets a woman at the 2023 FIA Prize Giving ceremony, but don't exchange numbers. Months later they meet again and sparks fly more than ever.

Warning: Max’s personality is not accurate.

MANY INACCURACIES (take place in Baku, but the place is the Met) also didn't know what to title this

----

2023 FIA Prize Giving ceremony

Y/n ascends the staircase with the wind in her dress and her hair blowing in the wind. She felt better than she ever had. Even though her boyfriend, well now ex-boyfriend, broke up with her a week ago. He had said some things that had made her feel worthless. Now she felt on top of the world. She had won the Formula 2 Rookie of the Year. It had been a crazy tear for you. 

“Y/N,” was all you were surrounded by. Many reporters and fans were yelling for your attention. At the top of the stairs, you stopped and looked over your shoulder as a pose. A man near the middle of the stairs caught your eye. He was sharply dressed in a nice suit.

After enough time to get the shot, you continued through the doors. Your team principal met you halfway to the team’s table. 

“Y/N, you look great. I got an email today from the Team Principal of the Red Bull F1 team, Christian Horner. He wants to talk to you.”

“When does he want to meet?”

“He wants you to meet him after the awards.”

“Ok, you’ll know where I’ll be”

He walked away as you made your way to the bar, getting your favorite drink. A man finds his place next to you.

“Hey, how are you?” he said with an accent.

“Good, you?”

“Great, now since I met such a beautiful woman,” he flirted.

“Aww, what level are you in?”

“F1.”

“Ooh, fancy pants here,” you said while smiling. “Guess I’m too poor for you.”

“But you’re not ‘poor’ on the beauty scale.” He smiles, and you meet his crystal-blue eyes.

“Thanks, if looks could lap, you’d be a world champion,” you joke to him, hitting his arm with a dopey smile.

“Jokes on you, actually, I am,”  he says with all seriousness. 

The smile on your face dropped. “What?!”

“The champion of your heart,” he smiles detecting your stand-offness to his previous comment. “So can I have your number?”

“If you buy the next round.”

“Bartender, can you put all of her drinks on my tab tonight,” he says as the bartender nods.

“Well, thank you, but for that, I can repay you by giving you my number,” you said as you trailed your finger on his shoulder.

“What if I don’t want it?” he says ‘sarcastically’ but you don’t catch on.

The face you made you kill someone. Your face dropped farther than it ever had. You might even have to get Botox for the frown lines after that. You set your drink on the bar and back away. 

“Thank you for the drinks, have a great night,” you said before turning on your heel and walking away. 

“Wait,” you hear him slightly yell but you ignore it. Max starts to hate himself for being sarcastic. It was hard for him to make friends or talk to girls. His abusive past makes him overthink things so much so that he blocks the best of people out.

You strut to your team’s table. As the ceremony commences, your eyes meet the Caribbean blue eyes. You fight the urge to smile at him, instead you force your deepest frown and even add a roll of the eye. 

Your award was announced. You walk up the stairs with a huge smile. As you look out at the audience, you feel a sense of accomplishment. You seem calm and collected but inside you are so nervous.

“Thank you to everyone, my team, my engineers, my strategists, my family, my friends. All that you have done for me has brought me to this very moment. No words can express how thankful I am for everything. All the blood, sweat, and tears I have put into this sport have finally paid off. If I cried on your shoulder, an extra thank you to you. Thank you,” you finished.

The rest of the night went by in a blur until your team principal came to you with three men following him.

“Y/n, this is Christian Horner, team principal of the Red Bull F1 Team.”

“Mr. Horner, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Miss (your last name), likewise, congratulations on your F2 Rookie of the Year.”

“Thank you,” you politely replied.

“I would like you to meet my drivers: World Champion, Max Verstappen and his teammate, Sergio Perez.”

You looked at the man he called Max and looked him up and down and said, “Champion of your heart, my ass.”

“Y/n, a word please,” your team principal grasped the upper portion of your arm. “What the hell, they’re offering their reserve driver to you. Don’t act normal please.”

You walked back to the group of Red Bulls. “My apologies, Mr. Perez, a pleasure to meet you,” you apologized completely ignoring Max. 

“Y/n, after careful consideration, Red Bull would like to offer you the position of our reserve driver. You can take as much time as you need to decide,” Christian said.

“Thank you, sir. I will think about it.” 

Christian and his boys walked away after giving their farewells.

—-- A couple of months later—

Bahrain Grand Prix

“Here we are in Bahrain, preparing for the first race of the 2024 Formula One championship quest, the 2024 Bahrain Grand Prix. It is a sunny day of 20 degrees Celsius or 69 degrees Fahrenheit. There are no new drivers to the starting grid but there are changes to the reserve drivers mainly, the Formula 2 Rookie of the Year, (your name). She had amazing testing results here last week. One of our reporters is with her now.” the Sky Sports host said. 

“Y/N, welcome to your first grand prix as a reserve driver. Are there any feelings of accomplishment yet?” she asked.

You laughed, “Not really, I am so happy to have this opportunity. Thank you to Christian and the Red Bull team for trusting me. It really won’t settle in until I’m in one of the cars during a race but yes I am so happy and excited to be here.”

“As someone new to F1, how is having Max Verstappen as a teammate?”

“I mean, he’s different than my previous mates. We have our downs but nothing that makes me lose sleep, I don't know about him though.”

“Well, thank you for your time, I hope you enjoy this grand prix.”

Sometime later after Max won the race, he found you at the back of the garage and cornered you.

“Do you think I lost sleep over that night in Baku?” he said with a low volume.

“You were the one who came running after me so maybe.”

“You would be right, every day I think about what compelled me to say that and I still don’t know what did?”

“I know what did. You were attracted to me so your first instinct was to pull me in but when I got too close you pushed me away, that’s not your fault.”

“My dad made me work so hard, so when you came in so easily I thought it was too good to be true,” he said.

“I feel the same,” you whisper.

“You do?” he whispered back.

“Yeah,” you smiled.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,”

His lips met your softly. You were hidden in the back of the garage so no one could see this intimate moment.

After you separated your lips, he asked, “Can I take you to dinner tonight?”

“Yeah, you know where to pick me up,” you say slipping out from between him and the wall to go back to the front of the garage, anxiously waiting for the night to come.

[moodriingz]

The Prophecy | J. Hughes

Summary | You’ve given up on love until love hits you in the face (with a door) 

Warnings | Unedited, one curse word, (really bad) angst

Author's Note | I finally finished all of my finals! So that means more regular stories so send in requests! This is also part of my 100 follower celebration!

Masterlist

You never expected to feel so lost in a city you lived in for most of your adult life. You and your college boyfriend broke up after five years of dating. You met early in your freshman year and were stuck together like glue. He made you feel like you caught lightning in a bottle, so much so you were willing to do anything for him. So many of your friends thought you were going to get married and he had been hinting at it since you graduated a year ago.

You were blindsided when he said that he didn’t think you two should be together anymore and basically kicked you out of your shared apartment. Luckily Hannah, your best friend, offered to stay in her apartment until you could find one. 

All you could think was that it was your fault. Why else would he end it so suddenly? He gave you little to no explanation. Even though you were still so young you felt like you would never find a love like his. It was like someone was betting against you. All you ever wanted was someone who wanted your company.

After a couple of weeks you were able to find a new apartment in a different part of town and you never felt so excited or rejuvenated. Hannah was trying to convince you to start dating again, but you told her it was too soon. You were scared someone was betting against your love life and you didn’t want to risk it yet. 

Little did you know when you went to check out a new pizza place you would run into the cutest guy you’ve ever seen. It wasn’t a normal meeting though he almost gave you a concussion by hitting you with the door.

“I’m so sorry, are you ok? How many fingers am I holding up?” The stranger asks as he stares into your eyes looking for any signs of injury. Before you respond you notice his really tall friend recovering the pizza off the ground.

“I’m fine thank- why are you moving your finger in front of my eyes?” You ask confused about what he is doing.

“I’m trying to make sure you don’t have a concussion. You hit your head pretty hard when you fell,” he said, still doing some concussion protocol? You’re not too certain what is happening honestly.

“I think I’m ok I really appreciate it though,” you say finally getting the opportunity to stand up as he backs up. You go to move inside before he stops you.

“Wait what’s your name?”

“Y/n,” You tell him before turning around to enter the shop and order your much deserved pizza.

Later you meet up with Hannah to debrief about both of your weeks. You almost forgot to tell her about the mystery pizza man until she mentions dating to you again.

“Hannah, I'm not going on a date right now. But there was this really cute guy who almost gave me a concussion the other night when I went to get pizza,” You say nonchalantly.

“What? Y/n why didn’t you tell me? What’s his name? Are you going out with him?” She babbles as you roll your eyes.

“No to all of those questions. I felt like such a fool because of my ex and I’m not doing that again.” You say with a shrug. Living alone has really forced you to think about your relationship and you realized that the end of your relationship was most likely your fault, and you definitely do not want to get into another relationship until you figure out how to stop it from happening again.

After dinner you and Hannah decide to hit a club that was only semi full until the hockey crowd filtered in after the game. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits though so the Devils must have won.

Little did you know is that your pizza mystery man was currently walking in the club with some of his teammates to celebrate. Hannah was a pretty big fan and spotted some of them almost instantly.

“Oh my gosh the Devils are here we should go say hey. Maybe you can find a date,” She wasn’t going to take no for an answer so you just let her pull you by the wrist.

Hannah finally stops when she’s face to face with Nico, who you only recognize because of all of his ads around town. Before you can introduce yourself someone calls out your name.

“Y/n,” Your mystery man. He says it shocked like he didn’t expect to see you again.

“You know Jack Hughes?” Hannah whispers into your ear. You just ignore her because maybe it's fate? Maybe it’s a cruel joke?

You don’t even know what to say, you’re so shocked by the turn of events. You never would’ve thought you’d meet him again. You thought your near concussion experience would be the last you see of him.

“I’m Jack by the way,” He says and you’re drawn in by his voice and his eyes that haven’t left yours.

“I think you owe me a drink for almost killing me,” You say, shocking yourself.

“In my defense I didn’t try to give you a concussion, my brother was distracting me,” He says leading you to the bar. You order your regular drink and he does the same before asking you if you’d want to talk for a bit.  

The two of you talked for what seemed like minutes until Hannah came to find you to let you know that she’s leaving. You check the time and realize you should probably leave as well. 

“I had an amazing night thanks for keeping me company,” You say getting up to leave.

“Wait let me give you my number,” Jack says standing up and you nod, handing him your phone.

You walk Hannah home because you’re much more sober than she is and all she can talk about is that you know Jack Hughes.

“You should go out with him, he's so cute and sweet.”

“Hannah I’m not dating right now and you know that,” You say, leading her to her door.

“Yeah I know but you just deserve to be happy, and I really think he would be perfect for you,” She said, drawing out her syllables. You say goodnight and make your way home which luckily isn’t too far from her apartment.

The next day you decide to listen to Hannah and reach out to Jack. You try texting him telling him that you had a great time talking to him last night, but the message never gets delivered. All you can do is feel idiotic. It wasn’t fate to run into him twice (physically or not). You feel so childish thinking maybe this was your chance. 

You blame Hannah for getting your hopes up to think that maybe something could happen. You were starting to think that maybe it was some cruel joke fate was playing on you. You were almost compelled to pray to change your prophecy, but then you just started feeling even more insane. But, there must be a way to change it, right?

Later in the week you decide to work out of a cafe nearby and feel like the universe is playing some sick joke on you. As you look up your eyes meet with a pair of blue eyes staring you down. You smile shyly at the hockey player not knowing how to respond to someone who never responded to your text. Jack took that as an invitation to join you.

“You never called,” He says as he sits down.

“I texted but you never responded,” You say nervous you’d get turned down in person this time.

“What are you talking about? I was so excited to see you again because I wanted to get your number the first time we met but I thought it would be weird if I asked after almost giving you a head injury. I would’ve noticed if you texted me,” He rambles and you just pull out your phone to show him the message. He clicks around on your phone until his eyes get wide.

“I gave you the wrong number,” Jack says with a blush on his face. You feel that maybe your tables are turning. Instead of fate working against you, maybe they just wanted you two to meet a couple of times.

“Third times a charm right?” You smile at him as he fixes his number in your phone. You two fall into conversation once again before he checks the time.

“I have to go but I can’t leave until you agree to go on a date with me,” Jack says with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. You just nod knowing that someone was finally betting on your love life.

[afterglowsainz]

hi!💘could you do a lando x messi’s daughter smau , maybe the barcalona gp. but she’s besties with joao felix so she reluctant to speak to him because of the rumors of lando and magui(felix’s ex). sorry if it’s confusing🎀

barcelona | lando norris

summary: lando takes an interest in a special guest from the barcelona gp paddock but she has no interest in him

fc: steph bohrer

warning: lando is a simp in this, we love to see it!

a/n: this was perfect timing cause i’ve been wanting to write more about lando <333 also not a lot of messi content just cause i didn’t knew how to include everything and still make this short and sweet but i hope you enjoy it!

—

liked by bffusername, carlossainz55 and others

ynmessi race weekend with bestie #1 and new bestie #2 🏎

tagged joaofelix79 and carlossainz55

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username omg i didn’t knew you liked f1!!

username yn in a gp is everything i didn’t knew i needed

username okay yn i see you being a tifosi

ynmessi FORZA FERRARI SEMPRE ❤️❤️❤️

username so real girlie

username my two boyfriends with my girlfriend this is such a special day💞

joaofelix79 send me that pic i look good 😏

ynmessi don’t cringe me out joão

username yn in the ferrari garage makes sooo much sense

username right??? like i don’t know how to explain it but ferrari girls are also barcelona girls

bffusername never thought i see the day you’d be friends with a madridista🤨

ynmessi im letting that slide for now everyone has their flaws

carlossainz55 you’re the one with an issue if you’re supporting *that* club

ynmessi KEEP MY CLUB’S NAME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH

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ynmessi life in barcelona💫

tagged joaofelix79, pedri and leomessi

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username girl 😮‍💨😮‍💨

bffusername ughhh why don’t we just kiss

ynmessi well if you insist ☺️

username never beating the biggest culer allegations

username awww the picture of messi and her brothers so cute 🥰

username well girl DAMN

leomessi te quiero hija❤️ (i love you daughter)

ynmessi te quiero mil💘 (i love you a thousand)

username you’re UNREAL

carlossainz55 is that… a red bull cap… ???

ynmessi nooo it was pedri i swear!! forza ferrari❤️❤️

landonorris 🤠

liked by ynmessi, carlossainz55 and others

landonorris quick pit stop

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username sir aren’t you supposed to be in england in two days???

username now what the hell is he doing in barcelona

joaofelix79 👀

username VISCA EL BARÇA💙❤️

username lando culer confirmed

carlossainz55 is this your idea of a first date?

landonorris and she loved it sooo

ynmessi does this mean i turned you into a culer already? 🥰

carlossainz55 watch it

username LANDO AND Y/N WHAT

username well that definitely took a turn

liked by landonorris, joaofelix79 and others

ynmessi back at it again in monzaaa🍝

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username oh yeah they’re definitely dating

username bestie what happened i thought we were tifosi

ynmessi still are! just with a bit more papaya now

username is this their dating confirmation orrrr

username my favorite wag fr

carlossainz55 i feel personally betrayed that you’re in mclaren’s garage at ferrrari’s home race 😐

landonorris cry me a river

mclaren beautiful in papaya🧡 (liked by ynmessi)

username yn back in the paddock WE WON

username praying that yn at the paddock becomes a regular thing🙇🏽‍♀️

landonorris my love you’re so beautiful😍

ynmessi 🥰🥰🥰

[osachiyo]

"𝓐𝓶 𝓘 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶 𝓸𝓯?" ༉‧₊˚.

↺ includes : dazai osamu & chuuya nakahara x fem!reader

↺ content warnings : nsfw content (mdni), threesome, double penetration, facefucking, overstimulation, unprotected sex, oral (m &f recieving), hairpulling, dumbification etc

↺ synopsis : you had one too many drinks at a bar after getting dumped by your ex boyfriend on your birthday, and end up fucking the two most dangerous men you have ever met

↺ w.c : 2.7k+ words of absolute filth

↺ author's note : Ik I said this will be posted on the 29th but I kindaaa finished early...I honestly thought dazai & fyodor would win in the poll but I'm pleasantly surprised that chuuya won. Happy reading & I hope y'all enjoy <3 ps. this is supposed to be a bday fic for someone but I unfortunately could not find the ask so whoever you are, happy early b'day!

You squealed when Dazai parted your shaky thighs, licking his lips at your soaked lacy panties. "oh, bella, we barely even touched you and you're already dripping down there? naughty girl.." his voice dropped an octave, making you shiver. "quit yappin' and get to work, shitty dazai," Chuuya scoffed from behind you, gloved fingers pinching and pulling at your swollen nipples, coaxing little whines and moans from you. "you are just jealous that I'm the one about to devour her right now," the bandaged man shrugged, but still complying nonetheless. His fingers hooked under your panties and swiftly pulled them down, breath hitching as he watched webs of your sticky arousal cling to the thin fabric. Chuuya noticed that your attention was on Dazai and he wasn't having that. He turned your face to the side and smashed his lips against yours, swallowing your moans as Dazai nibbled on the insides of your thighs. Just how did you get stuck between these two unbelievably attractive men?

...You sighed, slamming your shot of Tequila down, the alcohol burning in your throat. "And he just broke up with me like that! On my fucking birthday too! What the fuck?" Your friend only patted your back, frowning, "girl, I knew he was no good from day one. let's just forget about him for now, yeah? try to enjoy tonight?" You nodded, a frown etched on your face. "Yeah, I know...but I really loved him, y'know? Even though he was terrible in bed," you giggled, nudging your friend's arm playfully. "How about we get you some real action tonight?" She wiggled her eyebrows, both of you chuckling. "Who should I go for?" You scanned the bar, looking for your partner for the night when your eyes land on Chuuya. The ginger haired man was at a corner, sipping away at his expensive drink, target locked. You touched your makeup up a bit before strutting towards him, giving him your best doe eyes when he looks up at you, "You here alone?" He smirked, "No, I'm here with some... colleagues. What about you, pretty girl?" You took a seat beside him, grinning as he poured you a glass of the 20 something grand drink, "I'm here with my friend, We're here to celebrate my birthday." He handed you the glass, "Oh, happy birthday. how's your night goin' so far?" You sipped on the drink, scrunching your face at the bitter taste of the alcohol, "Well...not to spill my life story or anything, but I got dumped today," he frowned, placing a gloved hand on your shoulder, "Sorry 'bout that, hon. Must've been an ass to do that on you birthday." You laughed, staring in his greyish blue eyes, "Yeah.." he leaned closer, his breath fanning over your lips, you could almost taste the 'aged monopole' on his lips—

 "chuuuuuuuyaaa~" Dazai interrupted you both with his sing-song voice, making you both jump. "What the hell are you doing here?" Chuuya gritted his teeth, clearly annoyed. You turned around to lock eyes with chocolate brown ones; oh, he was pretty. You could see a smirk splayed on his lips, winking at you before looking at Chuuya. "I thought I smelled a dog around here, and would you look at that? It's my dear ex-partner Chuuya!" The said man swung at Dazai, landing a punch on his stomach. "Oumph— I was wondering what you were doing with such a pretty woman," he said, taking your hand in his, kissing the back of it. "May I have the honour of knowing this pretty lady's name?" You giggled, "Of course, it's—" Chuuya cut you off by snatching your hand away, glaring daggers at Dazai. "Get the hell out of here, mackerel," Chuuya groaned. "This pretty lady has been through a breakup tonight, on her birthday, and I'm sure she doesn't need you annoying her to death too." Dazai only pouted, "Or are you just afraid that she'd leave you because of me, hmm?" He looked at you, smiling. "Trust me, baby. I can do much better than this malnourished ginger." You could see Chuuya's right eye twitch. "You really think so?" The brunette man leaned closer, towering over the both of you. "I know so." "Then let's fucking prove it."

...Everything after that was a blur to you. You didn't remember when you left the bar with them or when you entered the hotel. All you knew was that it felt so hot. It felt so hot when Chuuya pressed open-mouthed kisses on your nape and behind your ears, all while Dazai made himself comfortable between your spread legs. He shoved your panties in his pocket for later use, his tongue darting out to kitten lick at your puffy clit. He could feel your pussy throbbing on his tongue, clearly wanting more of his touch. Chuuya pushed the straps of your tight black dress down your shoulders, massaging your plump breasts while kissing you deeply. "Oh, you taste fucking divine," Dazai hummed, snickering when you clenched down on his tongue from the praise. "You like that, birthday girl? like it when I praise you?" You could only moan, nodding your head. The ginger man behind you flipped you over so that you were on your stomach, ass pressing against Dazai's face, and he moaned, calloused fingers spreading your cheeks apart as he slurped your juices up. Your cheek was smushed against Chuuya's dress pants, drooling on the expensive fabric. You could see the prominent bulge on his crotch, just begging to be touched. "Put that pretty mouth to use, darl'," he whispered, unzipping his pants and pulling his boxer's down, his cock finally springing free and slapping against his stomach. Your mouth watered; it was so pretty. Reasonable sized with a girth promised to make you see stars. The tip was flushed pink, precum pearling at his slit. You picked the underside of his cock, paying extra attention to the large vein, making him hiss. He grabbed the back of your head, tapping his cock on your warm cheek, "Open up, hon." You happily obliged, sticking your tongue out for him to shove his shaft down your throat, making you slightly gag as tears prick your eyes. You gasped when Dazai pushed two slim fingers into your hole, your insides sucking them in eagerly. "There we go, sweet girl. Taking my fingers so nicely~" You cleched down on him at the praise, moaning around the fat cock in your mouth. The red-head shivered at the vibrations from your mouth. Tipping his head back slightly, fingers tightening their grip on your hair as you start bobbing your head up and down. It was messy; webs of his precum and your saliva was dripping down your chin, your mascara running down your puffy cheeks as you tried your best to breathe through your nose. Dazai scoffed when Chuuya smirked at him, successful in stealing your attention. He blew on your clit, making you jump. You tried to look back at him but Chuuya's grip was firm, patting your head softly before doing an experimental thrust in your mouth, tip of his cock nudging against the back of your throat. On the other hand, Dazai was getting lost in your cunt; skilled tongue swirling over your swollen clit, fingers curling against your g-spot, moaning into your pussy when you clenched particularly hard. Chuuya was now thrusting up into your warm mouth eagerly, holding your head down while muttering out small curses. He loved the way your eyes rolled back from the overwhelming feeling of Dazai eating your cunt like the best meal he's ever had while Chuuya fucked your throat 'till it burned, your lipstick staining his cock.

You jolted forward when a lubed finger pushed into your other hole, the feeling entirely foreign to you. Dazai's warm hand smoothed over your ass, giving it a playful smack, "Relax, pretty. You are gonna take the both of us, aren't you?" Your eyes widened, the both of them inside..at the same time— could you even handle it?

Chuuya patted your cheek softly, turning your attention to him, "You don't have to if you don't want to, we won't force you into anything." Your heart fluttered at his caring nature, hearts practically swimming in your pupils. You pulled your mouth off of Chuuya's cock, making him hiss. " 's okay.. I can take it," you whispered, making Dazai smirk devilishly, "that's my girl."

They switched places now; Chuuya between your pretty legs while Dazai eagerly thrusted up into your welcoming mouth, slobbering all over his cock. Your jaw was hurting from how hard he was shoving himself in and out, back arching like a cat's when Chuuya's long fingers brush against that one spot inside your walls. His tongue swirled around your puckered hole, making you squeal and try to kick your legs and fail, his hands firmly gripping them, "Behave," he growled into your cunt, making Dazai snicker. "How's she taste?" Dazai grinned, hissing when your tongue swipes over his slit. "Fucking amazing," Chuuya's eyes slightly rolled back, going drunk from your addictive taste on his tongue. Dazai's thrusts sped up, now hitting the back of your throat as you creamed all over Chuuya's face. He was glad your back was turned to him so you couldn't see him cumming in his pants like a pathetic teenager. "Came in your pants already?" Dazai laughed, cutting himself off with a groan as he holds your head down, cumming down your throat.

Dazai picked your already tired body up, placing you on his lap, telling you how good you did for them while kissing your tears away. "Now, get ready for the real thing," he smirked, slapping the tip on your clit before lining his cock up with your entrance. "Hope you're ready, princess," Chuuya uttered from behind you, rubbing soothing circles on your back, pushing your hair out of the way to kiss and nibble on your marked neck as Dazai pushed into you with a wet 'pop!' Your jaw slacking as he buried himself to the hilt, pressing his forehead against yours as he panted out little praises. Your body was tense in Dazai's hold, clenching down on his cock when his fingers found your clit, trying to get you to relax and it worked as you went limp in his arms. Chuuya on the otherhand, was busy lathering lube all over his cock, pumping it a few times in his first before lining it up with your puckered hole. Slowly but surely pushing in, focused on how you moan into Dazai's lips, the smug brunnete swallowing your moans. "Does it hurt, doll?" He grunted, grabbing your hips for stability as he tried his best not to shove himself all the way in. "Hurts— hurts so good.." you slurred, eyes rolling back from the sheer pleasure of both of them inside you. His cock pushed fully past the tight ring of muscle, balls touching your ass while he shuddered, fingers digging into the plush of your hips so tightly that you're sure it'll leave bruises tomorrow. But you didn't care, not when you were stuffed full by these two men you had just met, creaming and clenching on their cocks. "God, she's clenching so damn hard. Aren't you, baby?" The man in front of you panted, fingers still rubbing circles on your clit, pinching the small bud when you whine and whimper for them. Chuuya turned your head around to face him, capturing your parted lips for a sweet kiss, rolling his hips experimentally and groaning when you tighten even further.

Your makeup had been completely ruined by the time they were finally starting to thrust in and out of you, the two of them perfectly synchronized with each other, as if they could read the other person's mind. Every time one of them pulled out, the other pushed in and vice versa. Your mouth formed an 'o' shape, clawing at Dazai's shirt as they worked you to your orgasm. Your brain couldn't function properly anymore, filtering out all thoughts besides the two men ravaging you right now, stretching out your holes and all you could do was lay there and sob out their names. "Oh shiit— did we fuck her stupid already?" Chuuya questioned, breathy moans and grunts leaving his swollen lips that were stained with your lipstick like his cock. "Sure looks like it, ah fuuck—" Dazai moaned, their rhythm slowly falling apart as their orgasm approached. " 'm gunna—" you couldn't even finish your sentence before squrting all over their cocks, head lolling back on Chuuya's shoulder as you twitched from the overstimulation. Dazai's hips stilled suddenly, shooting his seed deep inside of you, some of it dribbling out as he pulls out, some of it spurting on your cunt, coating your pussy lips in his release. Chuuya's arms hooked under your knees, bringing you to his chest as you screamed his name, tears flowing out of your puffy eyes like jewels. "Cumming— fuck!" He growled, slim hips pressed against your plump ass while he flooded your insides with his cum.

Your heavy eyelids widened when Chuuya lifted you up, now facing him. "What're you—" you gasped when you felt his cock prodding at your cunt this time, ready to fuck you to oblivion. Dazai gripped your hair from behind, tugging on it to make eye contact with you, "You didn't think we were done from just that, did you?" You whimpered at his low tone of voice, perfectly manicured nails digging into Chuuya's shoulders as he pushes into you again, your cunt fucked raw and sore. Bandaged hands spread your cheeks apart, groaning at the lewd view of his ex-partners cum flowing out of your hole. " 's too mph— much!" You babbled, wincing at Dazai pulled at your hair and landed a swift smack on your ass. "You can take it, honey," he bit his lip, slipping into your other hole with a loud groan, your eyes crossing at the mind-numbing stimulation.

"Shiiit— pussy grippin' me so tight," Chuuya moaned, throwing his head back as he thrusted into you vigorously. The three of you were rendered a drooling, panting mess; overstimulated and shaking as they bend and mold your body to their desire, turning you into their personal cocksleeve for the night and you loved it. Dazai's fingers found your nipples, pinching and pulling and the hardened buds, making you cry out even louder for them, slapping one of the soft mounds before flicking at your nipples again.

You felt something in your lower stomach turning, tightening as they thrusted in and out of your oversensitive cunt. Chuuya's hand suddenly wrapped around your throat, not gripping tight but hard enough to make you feel breathless and dizzy. Everything went white, you could hear ringing in your ears as you gushed all over them, your juices covering Chuuya's abdomen and dripping down his cock. A creamy ring had formed around the base of his cock, hands reaching everywhere they could before his hips stopped, his semen gushing into your walls and staining them white. Dazai came shortly after, burying his face into your neck as his cum filled your gooey insides.

They both pulled out before Dazai laid you on your back gently, softly shushing your sobs as you clung onto him, burying your face in his chest. His hand was splayed on your back, rubbing random shapes on your sensitive skin. "Shh, my pretty girl. Did so well for us, hm?" He whispered, kissing the crown of your head while Chuuya got up to get a washcloth and a glass of water. He handed you the glass of water and some pills, "birth pills," he clarified, looking away bashfully while Dazai snickered. You didn't even realize how dry your throat was until drinking the cold water, offering your burning throat some relief. "I should probably lea—" you got cut off by Dazai pulling you back into his arms burying his face into your soft chest, "Why not stay? I'm not the type of guy to let a pretty lady go home alone at 3 am after having such an intimate moment." Chuuya huffed and nodded in agreement, laying next to you before wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Dazai pouted, scooting closer and shoving Chuuya's arm off of you. "A dog should know it's place, you should honestly go sleep on the floor," Dazai joked. "HAAH?!"

©ambrosiaa— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, likes and reblogs are very appreciated♡

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[nochukoo97]

venom

pairing: boxer!jungkook x boxer!reader

summary: after a nasty breakup with your ex, who was a boxer, the person who introduced you to the sport, you decided to make life easier for yourself and switch clubs. little did you know that your club leader, also known as ‘venom’ in the ring, would eventually spark your interest. no matter how much jungkook interests you, you can’t bear to risk another failed relationship, you’re still hurt and traumatised from the inside. but will jungkook manage to crawl his way into your heart?

warnings: MINORS DNI! dom!jk, sub!oc, oral (f&m), fingering, unprotected sx (pls dont), kissing, oc is a little whiny heh, i hope thats all

wc: 10k+

teaser | masterlist

When your ex-boyfriend, Jaehyun, had introduced you into boxing, you immediately fell in love with the sport. In fact, Jaehyun had personally trained you, he had been a boxer for many years, and he had been the one who had taught you all your skills and techniques you know today.

Little did you know this relationship that seemed perfect, both of you being interested in boxing, would turn upside down. Jaehyun had been the sweetest, most charming guy at the beginning of your relationship, but the moment you had turned 20, he had begun tormenting you, using boxing as an excuse to purposefully hit you a little harder than needed, to push you to the ground and belittle you.

The man who you once thought would be your forever partner, became your biggest nightmare. He became unrecognisable to you, making your insecurities shoot through the roof, degrading you to the lowest of the lowest.

Hell, you didn’t know how you managed to put through months of that treatment, before one day you eventually snapped after spotting Jaehyun with another girl from the club, Jisan, at the gym late at night kissing.

It broke your heart, but at the same time you knew that it would be dumb to stay on and even try to forgive him, no matter how many times he had begged at your feet to stay, claiming he would change and be a better boyfriend to you.

That’s how you find yourself trailing behind Jimin, the man who had offered you to join their club.

You researched beforehand, Jeon Jungkook, leader of the club, ring name ‘Venom’, he’s won too many competitions to count.

“Don’t worry, most of the guys here are pretty friendly, there’s another girl here too, so you won’t be alone either,” The man you follow tells you, he had introduced himself to you, Jimin, saying that he was one of the members of the club.

“That’s nice to hear, I didn’t really have good company at my old club,” You let a smile out, Jimin seemed friendly and approachable, your new start was already looking good in your eyes.

“Anyways, this is where we train,” He leads you through a glass door, the familiar sounds of heavy breathing and sand bags being punched immediately reach your ears, it’s almost satisfying, being back in boxing after a month of break.

“And that’s our team leader over there, we call him Venom in the ring,” He chuckles, head nodding towards the man going at the black sandbag.

You watch as he goes at the punching bag, eyes narrowed, focused, his black gloves attack the bag, the gold lettering on the gloves spells out his nickname, ‘Venom’.

“Jeon! New girl is here!” He calls out, making the man halt, turning to look at the both of you. Jimin’s words attracted the other members, there were a few who rushed to you before the team leader did.

“Damn, we got a pretty one,” The guy nearest to you nudgest your arm playfully, as you blink, unsure of how to react.

“Tae, stop it,” Jimin nudges the guy back, “Sorry, he’s usually like that, he doesn’t have the intention to make you uncomfortable,” he scratches the back of his neck.

“Leave her alone, go back to what you were doing,” You spot Jungkook pushing the guys away, grumbling as he approaches you.

Or should you not call him Jungkook? Maybe it was disrespectful.

“___?” You whip your head up to meet his gaze as he calls you, more in a questioning sort of way.

“Yes,”

“I’ve heard good stuff about you,” His stance towers over you, it makes you a little wary of his already brooding aura.

“I want to see her skills,” He tells Jimin, who nods in response.

“You ready? This is your first test to see if you can truly survive here, I’m not gonna go easy on you,” He warns you, tightening the strap on his gloves.

“I’m ready,” You walk over to your bag sitting at the corner of the room, fetching your gloves as you quickly wrap your hands and put the gloves on.

-

To say Jungkook was impressed, was an understatement. Hell, he did not expect you to dodge and hit every attack so precisely.

“You did well, good job,” He tells you, removing his gloves and watching as you smile back at him, panting slightly as you bow.

“What on earth did I just hear,” Another guy deadpans from the side, jaw dropping to the ground.

“There’s no way Jeon just let out a praise,” He gasps, “Come on man, in my six years of knowing you you’ve never complimented me once!”

“Whatever,” Jungkook grumbles back at him.

You make eye contact with Jimin, who also seems amused at the team leader’s behaviour. Was he not acting normal? Why was everyone so amazed by his words?

“I gotta say, ___, that was impressive, I’m Yoongi,” Another man, around the same height as Jimin, approaches you, extending a hand. You politely bow, shaking his hand.

It seems like joining this club wasn’t so bad after all, it seemed like a welcoming place with good support already.

-

unknown number: hi __, this is jungkook, jimin passed me your number.

unknown number: come early tmr, you’re gonna meet your trainer.

You pick up your phone, the screen lighting up caught your attention.

you: okay, thanks.

The next day you quickly head towards the club, grabbing a quick breakfast along the way. Before you push open the glass door to the entrance, you spot Jungkook training with another man whom you had not seen previously.

“___, come,” He calls out to you, heaving when he abruptly stops punching the mitts, “This is Woojae, he’s my personal trainer and I want you to train with him,”

WHAT?. Jungkook’s personal trainer?

“I’ve told him not to go easy on you, just because you’re a girl doesn’t mean you’re weaker than anyone else here, am I right?” He leans closer, whispering into your ear as his hand clasps around your arm.

“Yes,” You almost shudder at the close proximity, you’ve never felt this intimidated by someone before. To be honest, you were proud of your strong aura that you carried while boxing, not afraid to spar with even the burliest of team mates. Yet somehow Jungkook, or Venom, had a different effect on you.

“Hi ___, nice to meet you,” Woojae, quickly shrugs off the mitt on his hand, shaking your hand.

“I’ll finish up here with Jeon and then I’ll analyse your performance ‘kay?” He tells you, while putting the mitts back on, you nod your head, taking a seat on the floor to watch while wrapping up your hands.

You noticed Jungkook’s eyes had a different glint in it whenever he began boxing. The way his eyes would narrow, focused on whatever was in front of him, the grunts he let out after releasing a strong punch, his heavy breathing filling the air.

It was fascinating to you, having always dreamt of being in Jungkook’s position. But being a female in a male dominated sport was hard, if you were lucky, you had competitions with other females. But the majority of them were still males. Yet you didn’t feel this was a disadvantage, after all you still managed to win.

“___, your turn,” Woojae calls you out, as you quickly get up, getting onto the mat.

The first few minutes of sparring was not bad, it definitely wasn’t easy considering you could tell Woojae was not going easy on you. His attacks back at you were much more complicated, it often took you by surprise.

WACK.

You don’t even realise what’s happening before Woojae’s glove comes into contact with your left cheek.

A groan emits from your throat, hand reaching up to touch the area with your gloves.

“Gonna give up? Or are you gonna continue to fight like a strong fighter?” Woojae nudges you a little harshly with his glove, he definitely was not going easy on you.

But still, who were you to give up? You’ve been hit multiple times before, but this time it simply felt different. With your team leader’s gaze trained on you.

You quickly get back into your starting position, attacking back at Woojae. With each punch you throw, your ponytail swishes slightly, a pant comes out from your mouth.

Jungkook notices the change in your demeanour, you have this determined look in your eyes, hands up and ready to fight back. It’s impressive to him.

You weren’t about to give up so easily. You were gonna prove you are worthy of being in this club.

-

“___, out of my many years of knowing Jeon, he’s never once offered anyone else his personal trainer,” Mingyu, another team member whom you had recently gotten to know, whispers as he gazes to where Jungkook was, punching a sandbag.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” You wave him off, chuckling, “Maybe he just wants to toughen me up with training so he assigned the same trainer?”

“Nah, I think you’re different. The other girl here, Yubin, she’s currently on holiday, but she practically begged Jeon to train with her and his trainer,” He starts, “It’s like a miracle to see him like this,”

Hoseok, you came to learnt who was also another teammate, leans in to join your conversation, “Yeah, and just warning you, shes like fucking delusional about him, our leader gets so annoyed whenever she clings onto him,” He laughs, as you nod, eyebrows slightly raised at the new information.

“___, I’ll start with you today,” Woojae comes up to you, reaching out a hand to pull you up from where you were sitting on the floor.

“Have fun!” Hoseok calls out, as you laugh at him, turning back to trail behind your trainer.

-

You had been told today was a match between Jungkook and someone else from a neighbouring team,

“That guy’s name is Eunwoo, he used to be best friends with Jeon, but they’re aren’t on the best of terms,” Jimin tells you, pointing towards the other guy in the ring, “Jeon’s in for a lot of money,”

Another thing you learnt was that Jungkook and Eunwoo had fought before, and after Jungkook had won, Eunwoo insisted on a rematch immediately.

The match was held at your club’s gym, people from different clubs surrounded the ring, chatters filled the room and both guys prepared in their own rooms. It seemed to be a huge thing, considering even though it was only two clubs fighting, there were at least five others who came to watch.

“Okay! Settle down, we’re starting now,” The announcer spoke through the microphone, catching everyone’s attention as the noise reduced to mutters.

“First, we have the one and only ‘Venom’, the previous champion!” Jungkook enters the ring, with Namjoon by his side, another team member. His eyes are trained on his opponent, who was currently outside the ring, preparing to enter.

“Next, it’s Eunwoo, who challenged Jeon back for a rematch, he seems prepared today,” Eunwoo enters the ring with his cornerman, chest puffed out as he approaches Jungkook.

“Nice to see you again Jeon, hope you’ll enjoy the taste of defeat today,” He sneers, coming a little too close to Jungkook for his liking.

“Fuck off, you better watch what you say,” Jungkook grits his teeth, his black mouth guard showing as he shoves Eunwoo back to remain a distance.

The crowd releases a series of ‘oohs’ and ‘damns’, as Namjoon pulls Jungkook a little further back, in an attempt to call him down.

The bell rings, both cornermen step aside, as Jungkook and Eunwoo approach each other, both their fists kept up.

Eunwoo launches the first attack, jabbing at Jungkook who blocks all the attacks, his fists remain up, not faltering once.

But throughout, Jungkook doesn’t attack back at Eunwoo, he only dodges and defends all his attacks, making the crowd confused.

“What the hell is Jeon doing? I placed so much fucking money on that guy, is he wimping out?”

“What’s going on with Venom today? I’ve never seen him like this,”

“Jeon, are you being a pussy? Gonna lose that ‘Venom’ title?” Eunwoo provokes, but Jungkook doesn’t respond, he only glares at him, dodging another punch.

“Why is he not attacking back?” You turn to Jimin, who’s sitting beside you.

“He’s using a new technique, but it’s surprising, he’s never practiced this before and it’s usually discouraged,” Jimin turns to face you, “He’s basically trying to tire Eunwoo out and conserve his energy till the last minute,”

Your mouth opens to form an ‘o’, nodding your head as you watch Eunwoo continuously provoke Jungkook.

“Come on! Are you sure you’re just gonna put your fucking hands up and dodge my attacks? Why? Too fucking weak to even attack back, what happened to you Jeon?” Eunwoo spits in his face, laughing while pulling his hand down to jab Jungkook in the rib, making him falter back and groan.

“Shit, he got hit pretty hard there,” Hoseok mutters beside you.

“Or is it because of that new girl in your club huh? Fancy her? Maybe when I win, I’ll ask the pretty girl to come and kiss me on the cheek, huh? Would you like that?” You stiffen at the mention, some people amongst the crowd letting out reactions and turning their gaze to you.

That was all it took for Jungkook to growl back at Eunwoo, deciding he was done playing games with the guy and waiting for him to tire out.

Jungkook quickly regains his composure, this time he isn’t waiting to tire the guy out anymore, instead he throws full-blown jabs back at Eunwoo, grunting harshly.

“Fuck! That really got you going huh?” Eunwoo attempts to dodge, slowly losing his energy.

“Eunwoo! What the fuck are you doing! Wake up!” His coach yells from the crowd, watching as Eunwoo takes a hit from your team leader.

Jungkook sends a jab to Eunwoo’s rib, causing him to falter, his glove makes contact with Eunwoo’s jaw, watching as the guy falls to the floor, groaning.

“Are you gonna get up? Or accept that I’ll always win you,” Jungkook sneers, launching another jab to the guy’s rib.

“10, 9, 8, 7,” The announcer begins counting down into the mic, Eunwoo attempts to get back up, but groans as his arms give way and fall back to the ground.

“Awww, gonna accept defeat again like the last time?” Jungkook leans down, pressing his glove into Eunwoo’s torso.

“Fuck- Off,” Eunwoo grunts, using all the strength he has left to push Jungkook off him.

“6, 5, 4,” The cheers begin filling the room, “3, 2, 1!”

“Venom takes the championship again! Jungkook wins the match!” The announcer lifts Jungkook’s arm up, signaling victory.

The room bursts into cheers and Jungkook smirks, turning to face his club. Eunwoo’s team on the other hand seemed the opposite, having lost all the money bet on him.

“Try again next time, huh Eunwoo?” Jungkook turns to his opponent, laughing as he exits the ring.

Eunwoo can only mutter curses under his breath, his cornerman quickly aiding him to stand up.

“___,” You hear Jungkook’s voice call out to you, as you whip your head up to face him.

“Did I do good today?” He leans down to whisper into your ear, as you shudder, his hot breath fanning onto your skin, “Hmm?”

Your cheeks are flushed, as Jungkook pulls back to read your expression. Why was he suddenly being so bold in front of so many people?

Of course, people amongst the crowd noticed this, they sent a few reactions, which made you even more embarrassed at the sudden attention.

“Yeah, you did great,” You can’t even look him in the eye, eyes trained on his chest, heaving heavily as he catches his breath.

Jungkook nudges your chin fondly, chuckling as he pats your head, heading over to his room to change and cool down.

“I’ve never seen our team leader do that in my whole life, what’s going on,” Jimin nudges you from the side, as the rest of your club members join in agreeing.

“Honestly, I don’t know either,” You mutter, cheeks still tainted a bright red from the previous situation.

-

“Hi! I’m Yubin! Nice to meet you, seems like I’ll finally have a friend,” The girl in front of you seems more friendly than you had expected. When Hoseok had mentioned Yubin to you, you had initially thought that she would be snarky and mean, maybe she wasn’t as bad as she seems.

Okay nevermind, you’ve definitely made an assumption way too early.

“Kookie, can you please help me hold my mitt?” You watch, wincing slightly at the scene before you. Yubin is clinging onto Jungkook’s arm, the tattooed one, as she holds out the mitts in front of her.

“Don’t call me that,” Jungkook grunts, shoving Yubin away from him.

She doesn’t take this too well, whining as she dramatically pouts in front of him, “Please? I want to train with you,”

Jimin cringes from the side, nudging your shoulder to check if you were witnessing the scene unfold before you. Oh, for sure you were.

“I can’t, I’m gonna start training,” He turns away from the girl, grunting under his breath.

“___, come here,” When Woojae suddenly calls you out, you whip your head up, grabbing your gloves and the wrap and heading towards him. The trainer makes Jungkook hold on to your mitts, to which Jungkook doesn’t reject.

Yubin doesn’t like this one bit, she immediately drops her jaw in shock, glaring straight at you as you approach the man.

“I need to wrap my hands first, hold on,” You tell Woojae, dropping your gloves to wrap your hands.

“Bring it here, I’ll do it,” Jungkook takes the roll from you, skillfully wrapping up your hand quickly.

“Kookie, how is that fair?” Yubin whines from the side, standing beside the both of you as she watches Jungkook finish up wrapping your hands.

“Yubin, get out, I’m trying to train with her,” He turns to glare at the girl, making her cower away.

“That’s so unfair, suddenly she comes in and has all his attention,” Yubin mutters under her breath as she walks away, but you manage to catch that. It somehow makes you proud inside.

-

“I want to spar with ___,” Yubin announces, as Jungkook crosses his arms, frowning at the girl sitting across from him. Most of the guys were sitting around at the couch, right before practice. Today was meant to be a more laid back practice, so it meant the trainers were not in the gym today.

“Why?” Jungkook questions the girl, “I’m not sure you’re at her level yet,”

Yubin gasps, purely offended at that, she stands up, declaring, “Don’t care, gonna spar with her today, I’ll tell her when she arrives.”

The sudden news definitely shocks you when you enter the gym, but nonetheless you still accept it, putting on your gloves and getting into the ring.

To your surprise, since you weren’t aware of what her level was, you managed to get her on the floor easily within the first few minutes of sparring. One jab to her rib and she had already landed on the ground, unable to get up.

“I think I broke my rib,” She sobs, sounds rather fake to you, but you still rush to her side, apologising as you ask her where it hurts.

“Piss off, you purposefully hurt me,” She grunts, launching a punch to your face unexpectedly.

You only feel the harsh contact between her glove and your nose, a loud crunch sounding out as you groan.

“Fuck, are you okay? Hey! Someone get a towel, she's bleeding quite badly!” You can hear Jimin yell, as someone scurries to retrieve the towel

Pain sears through your face, your nose throbs as you wince, hissing at the pain.

When you open your eyes, there’s a puddle of blood in front of you, blood dripping down from your nose as you quickly remove your gloves.

And yet Yubin has the audacity to fake whine, “Guys, I literally broke my rib here and you’re all attending to her?”

“Yubin, your rib is fine, I felt it just now, there isn’t even a bruise so quit complaining,” Tae groans, nudging the girl to get up from the floor.

“I’ll do it,” Jungkook comes back with a wet cloth, but pulls it away from Jimin’s grasp when he tries to take it.

“What?” Jimin is dumbfounded as he watches Jungkook carefully grab your chin, making you turn to face him as he wipes off the blood from your face.

“What the hell is going on…” Hoseok mutters, watching in awe as Jungkook, the man known for his powerful and brooding aura, tenderly wipes your face with a cloth. It astounds everyone to see their team leader be so gentle for once.

“Yubin, what’s your problem?” Jungkook turns to face the girl, eyebrows furrowed as his expression contrasts to his hands gently tending to you.

“She hit me too hard! Jungkook, can’t you see she almost broke my rib!” Yubin’s being unnecessarily dramatic at this point, and everyone else can see right through her.

“Don’t bother coming back tomorrow, you’re suspended from here until after tomorrow. The rules are clear, no foul play, and you clearly punched her after the sparring was over.” He orders her, making her exit the gym.

“Come, go to the medical room, you busted your lip too,” Jungkook grabs your hand, leading you into the room and closing the door behind him.

Your heart is erratically pounding in your chest, your breathing is slightly heavier, from both the previous sparring and Jungkook’s ministrations.

You sit on the couch in the room, hands fiddling with each other as Jungkook shuffles through the medical kit.

“Thanks for that just now,” You whisper, but Jungkook catches it, turning to face you, the corner of his lips turning up into a smile.

“Just ignore her, she’s usually like that.” He tells you, taking a cotton bud and applying the ointment on your busted lip. You wince at the sudden contact, hissing as the cut stings.

“Sorry, it’ll be quick I promise,” He tells you, eyes focusing on applying the cream.

Seeing Jungkook so up close does things to your heart, you notice his two lip piercings, the chain necklace he has on, his hair covering his eyes slightly.

You unconsciously reach up to swipe his hair out of his face, before quickly pulling your hand back once you realise what you were doing.

“Hmm?” He hums, looking back up to make eye contact with you. Jungkook’s heart pounds in his chest as he scans your face, cheeks tainted as your eyes stare back at his. Fuck, you do things to him.

“Am I making you soft? Why does everyone act so surprised when you do this kind of stuff?” You whisper, maintaining eye contact with him.

“Maybe you are,” He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, it makes your heart skip a beat. “Why? Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” You mumble, looking down at your hands in your lap. Your voice wavers as you reply, not trusting yourself to speak fully.

“So you’ll let me do this?” He leans in, breath fanning against your ear. Your breath hitches, his close proximity is so familiar to you, yet not. Even though it wasn’t the first time he was playing with you like this, it had caught you by surprise every time.

You stiffen slightly as you feel his lips make contact with your ear for a split second, eyes widening as he pulls back to face you.

“You’re cute when you're flustered. A whole different person. When you’re fighting you look like an angry cat,” He chuckles, teasing you as you gasp.

“No I don’t!” You slap his chest playfully, feeling at ease with the man already.

“Mm, okay,” He muses, turning back to place the ointment into the medical kit.

You clutch onto your chest for a second, processing what had just happened.

He’s about to be the death of you.

-

“___, there’s another girl from a team who requested to spar with you, her name’s Jisan, you’ll be in a match with her next week,” Namjoon approaches you, telling you.

“What?” You gasp, raising your voice a little as Namjoon is taken aback by your reaction.

“Nothing,” You sigh. There was no way Jisan, the girl Jaehyun had cheated with you on, had the nerves to even set up a match with you like that. But still, it gave you an opportunity to get your revenge back, so who were you to back down from this fight?

For the next week following up to the fight, you’ve been staying late at the gym, punching the same sandbag as you push yourself to work harder. There was no way you were letting yourself fall to Jisan.

“___, go home, you’re exerting yourself too much,” Jimin tells you, holding the sandbag to stop it from swaying.

“Can’t” You pant, resting your palms on your thighs as you catch your breath, “Can’t lose to her, need to practice,”

“I’m telling you, you’re gonna over exert yourself and not do as well during the actual match,” He warns you, but leaves you alone, packing up his stuff to leave.

“I won’t, I just need to train as hard as I can to beat her.”

-

Oh, how wrong were you.

Jisan currently has you pinned against the floor, you groan as she lands another punch square to your jaw.

“___! Get up!” You can hear Woojae shout from the side, but everything’s hurting from how hard the girl had punched you.

“Jisan! Jisan! Jisan!” That’s all you hear as the crowd cheers, the countdown already starting as you struggle against her.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, no wonder Jaehyun left you for me,” She sneers in your face, as a tear escapes from your eye.

“Hah! What a pussy! Babe, take a look at her, pathetic,” She calls over to Jaehyun in the crowd, making you growl underneath her. It’s too late, the bell shrills, indicating your defeat.

You don’t bother to wait for Woojae to come and assist you down, instead, you run out of the ring, out of the gym and far away from the crowd, to a place behind the gym where no one went to.

It hurts your pride, especially to lose to someone like Jisan. You didn’t miss the way Jaehyun had laughed right in your face as he watched you get beaten up. It made you so mad that you let yourself lose to someone like her.

There was a sandbag hanging there, as you relentlessly attacked it, releasing all your pent up anger. Despite how many times you tried to punch the bag, your emotions built up on top of each other.

It’s like your world is crashing down, as you slide down and curl up into a ball, sobbing. Your pride was at your lowest, to be tormented by your ex, have him laugh in your face, have the girl he cheated on with you to beat you in a boxing match, it made you feel like you were worthless.

It’s been almost an hour as you sit against the wall, sobbing into your arms as you stare at the ground. Why did you have to lose? You spent so much energy into preparing for this match, yet you lost.

“___,” You hear someone call out to you, hand wrapping around your sobbing figure. But you push whoever was there away, there was no way anyone could see you in this state.

“Come here, it’s only me here, everyone else left,” You recognise the voice now, it’s Jungkook.

“Go away, I’m fine,” You sniff, whipping away the tear rolling down your cheek. It was even more embarrassing to you that Jungkook had seen you fail in front of his own eyes, and now he’s watching you weep pathetically because you lost to Jisan.

“It’s fine to lose you know, ___,” He squats next to you, but you only turn away, refusing to show your face.

“It’s not okay when that’s the girl my ex cheated with me on in my old club,” You spit out, a scoff coming out from your mouth at the thought of them.

Jungkook stiffens slightly at this, having not known much about your previous experience with your old club. He had only merely known that you had been with another club but it wasn’t ideal for you, which was why you had switched over.

“I have lost to many people like that before too, people who I want to get revenge on, you know?” He starts, sitting next to you, “But because I was so focused on the fact that I hated them, and I wanted them to lose so badly, I put aside my focus on actually implementing my skills during the match,”

You turn over to watch him through your teary eyes, noticing his gaze softening the moment he makes eye contact with you.

“And I know you aren’t weak for a fact, in fact everyone in the crowd could tell that it wasn’t the fact that you weren’t capable enough. We could tell you were distracted with something else, which is why I also came to find you,” He brushes your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“I know how strong you are ___, or else why would I accept you into my club, hmm?” He tells you, “Don’t let this defeat indicate your strength and level in boxing, our whole team knows how strong you are,”

“The most important thing is to put aside everything else, and just focus on your skills in the match. Never let anything else falter you,”

You can’t help but smile at the praise, even though your heart still feels heavy after the loss, maybe his words took a little of that weight off your chest.

“If you want, I’ll spend extra time after training to train with you,”

You whip your head up, eyes widening in shock.

“Really? You don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t mind since I can see the potential in you ___,”

-

So you and Jungkook had begun staying back after practice and training together, and the both of you had definitely grown closer than before.

“Good!” He praises as you relentlessly attack his hits, punching the mitts with all your might.

“One more round then we’re done,” You nod your head, catching your breath and taking a sip of water before returning back to the mat where Jungkook was waiting.

“Start,” You’re about to hit the mitt, preparing to launch a jab before you’re cut short, both you and Jungkook were shocked to hear the door to the gym open.

Practice ended at least a good hour ago, so everyone should have gone home by now.

But of course, you shouldn’t be surprised that Yubin was the one entering the gym, a fake gasp coming from her mouth as she runs up to Jungkook.

“Yubin, what are you doing here,” Jungkook shrugs her hand off when she clings onto his arm.

“Are you giving ___ private lessons? Can I join?” She flutters her lashes at him, pouting and attempting to give him puppy eyes, remember, attempting.

You decide to take matters into your own hands, why must she get in the way of you and Jungkook?

“No Yubin, we’re specifically only training together, besides, aren’t you supposed to be home now? I’ll see you tomorrow,” You tell her, grabbing Jungkook’s arm and pulling him back to the mat. He raises an eyebrow at you, smirking as he lets himself get pulled by you.

Yubin scoffs at this, she doesn’t have any intentions of giving up, as she approaches you both again.

“Jungkookie~, You’ll let me join right?” She asks him, standing a little too close to Jungkook to your liking.

“No Yubin,” He grunts, putting the mitts back on and ignoring her shocked reaction. You can only laugh watching her stomp out of the gym.

“Jealous, huh?” He taunts you, smirking as he watches your reaction.

“No, I just wanted to train, didn’t want her in the way,” You mumble, pulling your arms up to get ready.

Jungkook finds it amusing, but he doesn’t comment on your behaviour further, simply complying and returning back to train you.

-

To say you and Jungkook had grown close was an understatement, he would treat you to dinner or food after your training, and would constantly text you to check up on your health. You were content with this, but your heart said otherwise. There was always this small part of you that craved for more, that yearned for a deeper relationship with him. Yet the possibility of a new relationship failing just like your old one with Jaehyun, led you to push those feelings aside.

You sigh, punching the sandbag again as you snap out of your daze. Ever since Jungkook’s fight with Eunwoo, he seemed to be more interested in you, playing with your heart and teasing you here and there. It made you go crazy, thinking about him when you went to bed and the moment you woke up.

“Hey ___, what are you doing after this?” Mingyu taps you on the shoulder, catching your attention.

“I’m gonna train with Woojae and Jungkook, then I should be done for the day, why?” You tell him, holding the sandbag in place to stop it from swaying.

“Wanna get drinks with me? I’m bored and I wanted to go to this bar,” Mingyu smiles at you, waiting for your response.

“Sure, I’ve got to tell Jungkook to cancel our extra practice today, hold on,” You were definitely taken aback by the sudden ask, but you weren’t opposed to it either. Mingyu seemed like a friendly guy anyways, to you it was good to make some friends here and there.

You approach the said man, who was currently talking to Jimin.

“Jungkook,” He turns around to face you, the corners of his mouth pulling into a smile.

“I’ve got plans tonight with Mingyu so can we cancel the extra practice today?” You tell him, Jungkook’s eyes widen, since when did you have plans with Mingyu, his friend out of all people?

“Yeah sure,” He starts, “He asked you?” Arms folding as he looks over to the guy.

“Yeah,” You reply, noticing a slight frown forming on his face as he gazes over to Mingyu, but you choose to ignore it anyway.

-

“Okay you’re done today, good work,” Woojae pants, reaching out to bump his gloves into yours. You notice Jungkook standing at the side of the gym, so you head towards him.

“Did I do well today?” You playfully nudge him, giving him a smile as you await his response.

Instead you’re met with a cold “Yeah”, from him, Jungkook doesn’t even spare you a glance before he heads to one of the sandbags, beginning to jab at it a little too hard.

“Jeon, lay back a little, you’re gonna burst another one of those bags,” Woojae jokes, laughing as he packs up his stuff. Jungkook doesn’t respond, he only continues to punch it harder.

“Don’t worry about him, to be honest this is his normal self, ever since you came along he’s been more soft, so don’t be too surprised,” Woojae whispers towards you, as you only meekly nod.

But why was he being different all of a sudden? Did you do something?

“Hey ___, you’re done right? Let’s go,” Mingyu wraps his arm around you, as you giggle, following him. But you also don’t fail to notice the punching sounds in the back growing unconsciously louder.

-

It was the morning of your huge fight, you headed to the gym to warm up before the match, expecting to see Jungkook there. Yet when you enter the gym, you’re met with cold, hard silence.

Maybe he just wanted more sleep? He’ll be watching your match for sure right?

When you enter the ring, even though a whole crowd of people was cheering you on, a huge sum of money was placed on you, you couldn’t help but enter with a heavy heart.

Looking over to where your team sat, your team leader, Jungkook, was nowhere to be seen. The spot where he usually sits empty.

Was he really that mad at you to the point he didn’t come to your match? You honestly thought deep down inside, maybe you and him had something together, it made you want to believe in relationships again.

You don’t have time to look over and wait for the said man to arrive, as the announcer introduces you and your opponent.

Throughout the first round, you were constantly being attacked, you failed to defend yourself, your opponent managing to catch you at your weakest moments, jabbing you right and left. And everytime you tried to attack back, she managed to block your hits, tiring you out instantly.

You couldn’t help it, not when Jungkook was in your mind. Not when you couldn’t spot the man sitting amongst the crowd.

The bell shrills when you land on the ground, unable to get up. You still had one more round, yet you were ready to give up.

Woojae walks over to help you up, “___, what’s up with you today?”

“I don’t know,” You can’t even bear to look him in his eyes, head hung low as you walk to your prep room.

“Whatever it is, you have half an hour to sort it out, whether you lose or win, put in your best effort, not whatever happened out there,” He strictly tells you, before closing the door, leaving you alone in the room to gather your thoughts.

“Where is he? Did I really do something that bad to anger him?” You mutter under your breath, a string of curse words escape your mouth, frustration boiling from you.

“I’ve been watching you from in here,”

You immediately jump at the voice, chills running down your spine as you whip your head up. Jungkook’s standing against the wall, back leaning on the wall with his arms folded, you can’t read his expression, but he nods his head towards the TV mounted to the wall, the empty ring displayed on the screen.

“You scared me,” You whisper, letting out a sigh of relief, at least it wasn’t what you thought it was, some kind of ghost.

“Did you forget what I told you?” He approaches you, slowly walking towards your seated figure on the couch. “To not let anything else distract you and focus on your skills in the game?”

“That’s bold of you to say when you were the reason why I couldn’t focus just now,” You scoff, before stiffening up, realising that you had just exposed yourself.

“Hmm? You were thinking about me?” He leans closer to face you, both your faces inches apart.

Your breath hitches in your throat, your heart pounds in your chest, you’re pretty sure he might even be able to hear it.

“No, I mean, not really,” You turn your head to face away from his gaze, but he only puts a finger under your chin to guide you to face back to him.

“You sure?” He taunts you, a smirk clear on his face as he watches you flush. “It’s fun to see this side of you, hmm? All flustered under my touch?”

You can’t even reply to him, your eyes only widen as he leans further.

“So you won’t mind if I do this?”

Before you know it, Jungkook’s lips are on yours. Jeon Fucking Jungkook, Venom.

You halt for a second, before wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him back.

When he pulls apart, the both of you pant heavily, staring at each other.

“Been waiting forever to do that, you know?” He breaks the silence first, “Now since you’ve gotten your kiss, you better not be distracted in your second round in ten minutes,”

You gasp, still flustered from a while ago, “How am I supposed to focus now when you just kissed me?”

“Win the match and I’ll give you a reward later,” He pecks your lips, sending you a teasing smile.

You can’t even process what has happened, in the last twenty minutes of your break, Jungkook had kissed you. THE Jungkook kissed you.

-

This time, Jungkook sits amongst the crowd, you make eye contact with him before going up into the ring, it gives you a boost of motivation.

You’re curious, what reward would he give you if you did win? If you didn’t, would he be disappointed? But he just kissed you, so what does that mean?

“Last round!” The announcer calls out, as you step into the ring. You shake any thoughts off your mind, “Don’t think about anything else, focus,” you tell yourself.

You land a few jabs on your opponent, causing her to falter back. Another right uppercut to her jaw and she falls to the ground. You don’t let her take the opportunity to get up as you jab her again.

The countdown starts, as she tries to get up, with every second that counts, your heart beats harder and harder.

“3,2,1!” The announcer shouts, “___ takes the champion!” He holds up your hand high, as you smile, feeling a surge of relief. Finally, victory is yours.

You spot your team cheering up and down, Jungkook smiling proudly as cheers flood the arena.

“I knew you could do it!” You laugh as Jimin pats you on the back, the other club members had come over to congratulate you as well.

-

The whole club had decided to go out for a meal as a celebration for your first win, finding a restaurant near the gym.

You decide to text Jungkook, who was sitting across from the table to you.

you: so what’s my reward? 🙃

His phone lights up on the table, catching his attention.

jungkook: you’ll find out later

jungkook: follow me back to my apartment

Your heart thumps in your chest, looking up to make eye contact with the man.

Jungkook gestures towards your phone, signalling for you to check it.

jungkook: follow me outside, im going for a smoke break

“I’ll be outside,” Jungkook stands up, as the rest of the table nods before quickly engaging back in the conversations.

You quietly excuse yourself from the table, scurrying behind Jungkook.

“Come here,” He calls out to you, walking into the alleyway next to the restaurant. You scuttled behind him, watching as he pulls out a cigarette from the box and lights it, inhaling.

“I want to know my reward,” You demand, hands planted on your hips as you stare back at him.

“Patience sweetheart,” He sighs, turning his head to the side and blowing out the smoke.

“So what are we?”

Jungkook’s a little taken aback by the sudden question, but he doesn’t let it show, walking forward to cage you against the wall.

“What do you want us to be?” He whispers, pecking your cheek tenderly.

You don’t reply, tugging his collar to make him lean down, connecting both of your lips.

“Just want you,” You mumble after breaking apart the kiss.

“Yeah? You’ll get me later,” He chuckles, pulling his cigarette in to inhale another breath.

You almost choke on your saliva, gulping as you realised what he just said.

“But for real,” He laughs at your flustered expression, “Be my girlfriend?”

You nod your head, pulling him in for another kiss.

-

You and Jungkook should have definitely not left the dinner this early considering it was literally your celebratory dinner, but the both of you simply would have gone crazy if you did so.



“Kook, close the door,” You laugh through a kiss as Jungkook hums, mindlessly shutting the front door to his apartment with his foot.

“Fuck, been waiting to do this since forever,” He mumbles, as he trails kisses down your neck, sucking on a spot that makes you grip his arms a little tighter.

The apartment is filled with your soft moans, Jungkook kissing your neck passionately as he groans.

“Up,” He taps your butt, signalling for you to jump up.

You do so, and he carries you into the room, gently placing you on his bed.

You giggle as he peppers more kisses down, before halting to remove his shirt, his torso now full on display for you to see.

You use this opportunity to remove your shirt and pants, leaving you in your underwear, as Jungkook groans at the sight.

“Pretty girl,” He sighs, kissing down to your cleavage, as you giggle, playing with his hair and hands roaming his back.

“Kiss me,” You whine, tapping his shoulders to get him to move his attention back to your lips.

“So needy, huh?” He chuckles, “Gonna make this good for you, yeah? Give you your reward?”

He unclasps your bra, gazing intently at your boobs as he pinches one of your nipples, making you arch your back, a whine emitting from your mouth.

He trails down to your lower body, teeth clasping the band of your underwear as he pulls it down, the sight itself sends a rush of heat to your pussy.

“Jungkook,” Another whine, he shushes you quickly, nose nudging against your clit as you sigh in relief.

His tongue makes contact with your clit, sucking on it as you mewl, sensations overwhelming you already. His fingers begin to trace over your slit, gathering the slick as he slowly pushed two fingers in.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, how is my cock suppose to fit in here later, huh?” He laughs, breath fanning on your pussy as you shudder.

“I can,” You tell him through moans, hands finding its way through his hair as you tug on it.

“Mm, gonna stretch you out,”

His fingers hit that spongy spot inside of you, as a choked moan escapes your mouth, chanting his name. Sensations overwhelm you as he continues to finger you, sucking on your clit, you’re so close.

“Mmhm- No!” Just as you’re about to climax, Jungkook quickly removes his fingers, your hole clenches, as you whine at the empty feeling.

Jungkook steps back a little, removing his pants as his cock springs up, slapping his stomach.

This time, you immediately take initiative, sitting up from the bed as you take his cock in your hand, slowly stroking it, making Jungkook hiss above you.

You peer up to him, making eye contact as you stick out your tongue to trace over the slit on his head, Jungkook groans at the sight.

“Good girl,” He praises you, as you sink your mouth further down, taking most of his cock, while you continue to stroke the rest.

You bob your head up and down, as Jungkook’s moans grow louder, his hands grip onto your head, slightly pushing your head down as you let out a strangled moan.

“Fuck, fuck enough,” He quickly pulls you back, angry cock red and throbbing as you smile, looking up at him.

“I was about to cum, you don’t know what you do to me,” He sighs, wiping away the drool at the corner of your mouth.

You climb back onto the bed as Jungkook follows you, crawling on top of you as he locks his lips with yours again.

“Ready?” He breaks the kiss, tapping the head of his cock at your entrance. You quickly nod, wrapping your legs around his waist.

A sigh comes from both your mouths as Jungkook sinks in, the stretch bringing you more pleasure than pain.

“You can move,” Jungkook nods, beginning to pick up a rhythm as he pushed his cock in and out of you, moans growing louder.

“Hnggh please” Another strangled moan emits your mouth, as Jungkook chuckles from above you.

“Please what baby? Use your words,” He whispers into your ear, sucking on the skin right below it, making you arch your back further, inching closer to him.

“Faster, please, need you,” You pant, hands roaming his back as he picks up his thrusts, watching as you roll your eyes back in pleasure.

“Yeah? Like that?” You nod, moaning as your nails drag along his broad and muscular back, pleasure overwhelming you.

“Right there! Don’t stop please,” You sob, tightening your grip on his back as he grunts above you, cock slamming into your pussy.

Your thighs begin to shake around his waist as you climax, Jungkook’s cum spurting into your pussy as he lets out a guttural moan.

Quickly pulling out, he kisses you, pushing the strand of hair away from your face. You pant, smiling into the kiss as the both of you catch your breath.

“Good?” He hums, pecking your forehead affectionately.

“Mm, best reward ever,”

taglist: @sparklingocean @idkjustlovingbts @moonstar127 @babybella337 @ane102 @synnfulqt

[disneyprincemuke]

midnights, 2 * mv1

you were in the middle of eating dinner alone when you got the feeling of getting punched in the gut

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: i specialise in angst and heartbreak so B)

notes: man i shouldve just written this when my breakup was fresh, because when i tell you my heart was BROKE… (i love oversharing)

(prev) // (next)

your eyes are glued to your phone in your hand, as the other works the chopsticks to grab yourself some noodles. the tv is switched on in the background for some background noise.

the deafening silence in your apartment has haunted you for the past weeks since the breakup. to battle it, the tv is always turned on in your presence to keep you grounded.

you’ve been on instagram scrolling for about 5 minutes when a strange sensation hits you in your stomach. your throat feels weird, and your arms slowly start to feel numb.

you put the chopsticks down onto the plate that sat peacefully on your coffee table. you take a deep breath and lay your phone down on the carpet, looking around the emptiness of your apartment.

it’s the sudden realisation that you almost didn’t have a place to stay after the breakup. you had sublet the apartment your sister when you moved into max’s, and since she got engaged to her boyfriend and bought their own place, you’ve thought about putting it back on the market.

good thing you hadn’t.

it’s the weird void you felt in your chest sitting here all by yourself. being alone has never felt so definite until now.

the silence that creeps up on you every waking moment you’re in here miserably haunts you. you miss the sounds of clicking from max’s driving simulator, or the random clangs of things when the cats were in a mood, and the mews that conveyed dissatisfaction from the food bowl being empty.

your apartment is barely a shell of the home you’ve gotten used to.

you come home to nothing every day. no cats with their affectionate head rubs against your feet, and absolutely no loving boyfriend at the door whose hands cup your cheeks while he greets you with a loving kiss to your lips.

“-max verstappen scores at least three points in the sprint on saturday evening in losail, he will be crowned 2023’s champion.”

the mention of the name makes you lift your head to the tv. there’s your ex-boyfriend in all his glory, spraying champagne and having fun.

being this hung up about the breakup feels almost illegal; like you had the least right out of everyone to be so heartbroken, seeing as you did initiate it.

your phone lights up, notifications from alexandra and kika flooding your lock screen. you admire their determination — you haven’t picked up their calls and responded to text messages in almost 4 days.

you sigh and turn your head, eyes landing on the framed picture of you with the cats. you miss them terribly, almost as much as you miss the man himself. but it’s way more complicated than just dropping by into your old home to visit the cats.

victoria has mentioned to you that it’s no problem if you do in the week, since max is away for a race. you just couldn’t handle the thought to even be in that apartment. you’d just miss him way too much, and you would fold immediately.

but the constant fights that occurred towards the end of your relationship keeps reminding you to stay away. it’s unfair to keep holding on when it hurts you both.

your eyes linger on the frame that’s faced down on your entertainment centre. you have the picture in it memorised: you and max in abu dhabi under the fireworks when he won his first championship.

it was when he had first said he loved you.

how did it dwindle down so quickly? you could have sworn max was everything you wanted in a person. how did his little quirks you once loved about him be the same thing that drew you away?

you glance at the tv screen, the reporter moving on to other news. you’re holding your own hands back from chucking the tv remote at it.

“oh, god,” you mutter to yourself. the tv screen blacks out when you press the button on the remote.

you rub your forehead in frustration, feeling a headache creeping up from the back of your head. it’s the result from crying right before dinner.

the doorbell stops you from grabbing the faced down picture frame to hug— a habit you’ve gotten used to when you and max were separated due to work.

you tilt your head, eyebrows furrowing as you scramble to your feet. you push yourself off the floor and basically drag yourself over without asking who it is.

though, there’s a slight hope sparking up in your chest. could it be?

you unlock the door quickly, a small smile still stretching on your face when you realise who it is. it’s alexandra and kika, plastic bags decorating their hands and arms as they smile sadly at you.

“you really didn’t have to,” you frown, stepping aside and gesturing for them to come in.

“we can’t leave you all by yourself,” alexandra smiles, making a sharp turn for the kitchen.

you follow behind the pair, plastic bags laid down on the table slowly. it’s only then you realise the overnight bags on their shoulders, now neatly piled by the couch.

kika pulls out a bottle from a plastic bag, presenting it to you from where she is with a grin. “i am hoping you like red.”

“if you don’t,” alexandra pauses, taking out another bottle from another, “we have white wine.” she puts it down onto the table, slowly taking out bags of chips and tubs of ice cream. “but if you don’t feel like drinking, we have junk food.”

“we can eat our body weight,” kika smiles at you.

you frown, tears welling in your eyes at their thoughtfulness. “thank you,” you manage to huff out as your tears start falling out of your eyes. “this means so much to me.”

asking max for a breakup was never part of the plan that night. you still don’t even know where it came from because you know that you still want to be with him.

but when his silence filled the tiny room, eyes barely being able to meet yours, you knew that you basically had your answer. you didn’t fight for it any more after seeing the lifeless eyes that once used to be so bright.

maybe he had been beating around the bush. maybe he couldn’t bring himself to be the one to ask you for a breakup.

maybe you asking for it brought him relief, freeing him from the shackles of your deteriorating relationship.

in the flight back home, you were afraid that no one could ever love you as much as max did. but here are your friends, coming over unannounced to take care of you, despite the fact that you’ve been ignoring them.

kika and alexandra engulf you in a hug, one hand patting your hair and the other rubbing circles on your back. “we’re always here for you.”

[coco-loco-nut]

She’s So Gone

pairing: lando x ex!reader, charles x platonic!reader, carlos x reader

summary: all it takes is a kiss to change everything

masterlist requests open

———————

“Lando, stop,” you laugh as your boyfriend tickles your side. He is staying with you for the evening since the F3 opening race is at Silverstone.

“Come on, say you are coming to my race,” he pouts as his hands still from their assault on your side.

“I’ll try. I have a paper that I need to finish first,” you can’t help but feel the mood drop as Lando lays down beside you.

“You can work on it at the track,” he feebly argues.

“Lan, I have to put my studies first. Plus, the band might want to practice for our gig next week,” you frown.

“Aren’t I more important?” he asks, and you feel your stomach twist.

“You are, Lan. I’ll be there. Just try and come to my gig next week, yeah?” you ask, absentmindedly rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb.

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it,” Lando promises. And while you skipped sleep and shuffled things around to attend Lando’s race, he forgot your gig and gave a weak apology. He always did.

You attend the first race after your school year ended and fiddle with the team shirt that Lando gave you to wear.

“Stay just like that, you look so pretty,” Lando says, camera in hand as he takes a picture.

“Come on, Lando. I probably look awful,” you say, arms folding in front of you. Lando steps closer, pulling your arms down and bringing you into a hug.

“Of course now. How could you when you wear my shirt,” Lando wraps his arm around your shoulder and leads you through the paddock. You can’t help but feel like everyone is judging you, especially because it’s a support race weekend.

Lando ends up dragging you out to a bar after his podium. As soon as you arrive, you are left alone. You watch Lando talk to people, forgetting about you.

“Are you okay?” a voice asks. You recognize him as the driver who won the F2 feature race. How sad must you look, standing alone at the bar, so that someone you don’t know is concerned.

“Yeah, just waiting for my boyfriend to get back,” your eyes travel to where you last saw Lando, only to see him kissing some blonde girl. “I, um,” you swallow and blink back tears.

Charles’ eyes are wide as he looks between you and Lando, feeling a little awkward. He just wanted to make sure you weren’t about to pass out from alcohol, and he’s watching you get cheated on.

“Sorry, I’m just gonna go,” you bitterly smile.

“Fuck,” Charles mutters, turning to follow you. “Hold on, you shouldn’t walk alone at night,” Charles doesn’t know why he’s offering, but his gut usually isn’t wrong.

“I’m fine, but thank you. You should enjoy your party,” you a fighting to stay fine.

“I insist, it was getting boring anyway,” Charles lies. “Where are you staying?” Your silence is an answer enough. “I have a pull out bed in my hotel room, if you need somewhere to crash for the night,” he offers, still unsure why he’s offering.

“Thanks,” you whisper. Luckily for you, Charles was only a few floors from Lando and your bag was mostly packed. Your phone rings with a call from Lando, but you ignore it. Instead, you scribble a note on the pad provided by the hotel, telling him you were done.

Charles watches as your hand shakes a little, but you seem relieved. He sends a quick text to his teammate to not be surprised that there is a random girl crashing in their hotel room.

“I don’t ever think I caught your name,” Charles breaks the silence as you walk to his room.

“Y/n,” you feel a weight lifted off your shoulders, finally breaking away from Lando. As much as you don’t want to admit it, he’s been weighing you down, making you choose him over everything else.

“I’m Charles. Sorry about what happened back there,”

“It’s fine, probably for the best. Thanks for, uh, letting a stranger crash the night,” you set your bags down as you help Charles pull out the couch.

“It’s the right thing to do,” Charles replies as he hands you a couple pillows and a blanket.

After he bids you goodnight, you rebook your train home to the first one of the day. In the morning you silently put the couch back, leaving everything neatly with a thank you note. You slip out of the hotel room quietly and return home.

Once you board the train, you open the strings of texts you received last night.

Lando:

Y/n, where did you go?

If you went back to the hotel, please let me know you are there and safe?

Y/n?

I miss you :(

Y/n? Why aren’t you in the room?

This note is a joke right? I didn’t cheat! We aren’t over.

Y/n, please.

Babe, tell me you are joking.

I watched you kiss her, don’t lie. I don’t want to know how much of this has been happening behind my back.

You rarely showed up for my gigs, but I’ve made every effort to be at your races. I don’t even think you know what degree I’m studying for. This was the just last straw.

Lose my number.

It’s chemistry, you’ve always loved chemistry. You would send me the silly meme. You’re my nerd and I love you for it. I’m sorry I lied, I need you.

You feel on odd sense of peace. Out of curiosity, you look up Charles on social media, following him so you could see where his career takes him. It seems like you have a new favorite driver. In the process, you unfollow Lando and delete most of the photos of him on your profile. You don’t bother blocking him, he hasn’t given you a reason for that yet.

Charles quickly follows you back, sending you a message that he’s glad you got home safely. You send a message back thanking him for letting you crash and wish him luck in his career.

The school year held a lot of transformation for you. As you advanced your studies, you grew more confident in yourself and your little band began taking off. While inside you were still bookish and loved a rainy day with a blanket on your couch, you weren’t afraid to be bold and dress a little more daring when out.

You messaged Charles every once in a while, keeping up with his racing, wishing him a happy birthday, stuff like that. You weren’t expecting him to invite you to visit Monaco on your spring break. Sure you sent funny videos to each other and texted every so often, but you didn’t think you were that close.

“You seem different,” Charles says as he picks you up.

“I’ve been exploring myself this year, different styles, new music, stuff like that,”

“Well, I like it, you seem more confident than the girl I met at the bar,” Charles shrugs, you feel a sense of pride in it. You’ve worked hard to separate yourself from the girl that followed Lando around.

“Well you’ve changed too, mister hot shot Formula One driver,” you smile, watching him fight his own grin from the drivers seat.

That night you go out to the club with friends of Charles, the ones who don’t race in the higher formulas. It was already a little awkward meeting his entire family since he insisted that you not book a hotel, so you are hoping that alcohol calms your nerves.

“This is my friend, Y/n, she goes to school in England,” Charles says, letting the guys introduce themselves.

“How’d you meet?” one of them asks as you stand in line for the club.

“My ex cheated on me and Charles happened to be there. He let me crash the night on the couch in his hotel room,” you admit, not knowing a better way to explain it.

“That’s Charles, he’s nice like that. We all thought he was bringing a girlfriend,” the friend, Joris, says causing you to flush.

“No, we are just friends. I was a little surprised to get the invite to come here myself,” you chuckle, not able to picture yourself dating Charles. He was handsome, sure, but you just weren’t attracted to him like that.

“Well, you are doing something right. Have you been to one of his races?”

“No. I check to see if he’s won, but I don’t attend in person, not my thing,” you aren’t sure the answer he is looking for. You are sure Charles appreciates that you aren’t his friend so you can attend races, but you do cheer for him.

“You are missing out, you should come some time,” Joris says as you near the club entrance.

“Maybe,” your shrug ends that topic.

After a wild night, for the guys at least, you wanted to stay sober enough to make sure everyone left alive, you find yourself supporting a very drunk Charles back to bed.

“You know, you are a good friend. We should hang out more,” Charles slurs.

“Well, I am in university and you are traveling around the world, we don’t really have time for that,” you chuckle.

“Drop out, I’ll give you a job. What are you studying?”

“Chemistry,” you wonder how Charles will think of a job for that.

“Huh, I thought you’d be like history or something. What if I just hire you to be my personal entertainer?” Charles asks, you just shake your head with a smile.

“If you can even remember this conversation in the morning we will talk about it,” you smile as you reach his bedroom.

“Thanks. You know, this reminds me of the night we met,” Charles reaches for the handle to his bedroom as you turn to walk away, pausing when you hear him.

“How so? We were just at the club, nothing special,”

“I brought you home with me, only this time you aren’t crashing on my couch,” Charles grins as you roll your eyes good-naturedly.

“Goodnight, Leclerc,” you head to the guest room before you wake up the whole family.

The rest of the week goes by quickly, Charles shows you around and you get to know his family a little better. He didn’t remember your hallway conversation, but you did tease him for it.

Your relationship with Charles improved after that. He came to watch a couple sets of yours during breaks and you visited occasionally when you were both free, but you mostly kept up with each other through texts and social media. You weren’t best friends, but you were more than casual friends.

He even attended your graduation, something he proudly posted on his story. Charles tried to find a job for you in Formula One, something you protested, but he came up short. Turns out there isn’t too much need for a biochemist in Ferrari. You took the first good offer that came your way, but you kept your music career alive.

Everything worked out in the end, and you find yourself immediately calling Charles one afternoon after getting off the phone with your band.

“Charlie, I have a surprise,” you say as soon as he picks up the phone, your excitement radiates through.

“Well? What is it?” Charles sounds equally excited, secretly hoping you will finally attend a race.

“I am opening for Taylor Swift in Europe next year,” you squeal. Your alt style pop music was growing in popularity, quickly becoming a favorite of teen girls, and when you got the offer you just couldn’t refuse. It’s the perfect way to launch yourself.

“That’s incredible! I can’t wait to watch you on stage again. I was going to get tickets for Alex and I,” Charles says, he’s been one of your biggest supporters and has helped you get through writers block once or twice.

“I could always bring you onstage to accompany me,” you smile, imagining the crowd’s reaction.

“No way. I need to let you shine. Besides, I haven’t officially collaborated with your band yet,” Charles laughs. “Oh, when you come to Monaco, I have someone I want you to meet,” Charles says.

“Is this your way of getting me into the paddock, because you know how I feel about that,” your voice has a warning tone.

“No, although my offer still stands. Carlos just wants to meet you, apparently I talk too much about you,”

“Shocker, you talk about your insanely awesome friend. Isn’t he my ex’s best friend though?” You ask bluntly.

“They were teammates, yes, but I wouldn’t say best friends, more like just friends. He’s nothing like Lando though, trust me,” Charles says and you sigh, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Well, if he passes your tests, then he must be okay,” you give in. “And, maybe, if we keep it low key, I’ll watch the race with Alex,” you say, having thought about it.

“Really?” Charles sounds like a kid on Christmas and you start to think that maybe it isn’t such a bad idea. You aren’t the same person as the one who that last stepped into the paddock.

“Yeah, I was going to do a pop up show anyway, so why not. Why keep hiding myself, like you said. I gotta shine,” you grab your journal, starting to write lines.

“I’ll get you passes. Talk to you later?” Charles says, waiting for your confirmation before hanging up.

The water in the harbor sparkes as the sun reflects off of it. You sit on the yacht with Charles and Alex, tattooed fingers strumming the guitar. The rest of your band decided to explore the city despite having an invitation to join.

You stare at the tattoo that adorns your hand, the simple lines that lead from your pinky to the small butterfly just above your wrist. A reminder of breaking away, learning to fly.

“Wanna hear something new I started,” you ask, “I only have the first verse started, but it has potential,” you strum a random chord before singing.

“I’d be more than happy to workshop it on the piano with you,” Charles offers after your mini-performance.

“Not that it needs any fine tuning, it’s going to be a hit,” Alex reassures you. You smile and go back to playing random chords as you enjoy the waves.

“Am I interrupting?” a new voice asks, a Spanish accent cutting through the humid Monaco air.

“Not at all, we were just about to head out,” Charles stands up as you set the guitar down. He heads to untie the lines as Alex greets the visitor.

“Carlos, this is our friend Y/n. Y/n, this is Charles’ teammate Carlos,” Alex introduces you. You take in the handsome driver before shaking his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” You smile as Carlos sits beside you, limited seats and all.

“How did you meet Charles and Alex?” Carlos asks, a seemingly simple question.

“It’s a long story. Let’s just say that Charles took in a stranger when she needed it most,” you tightly smile and Carlos drops the subject.

“You are a musician, no? One of my friends listens to your music,” Carlos says and you perk up a little.

“Yes. I’m sorry if Charles blasts my music too loud,” you offer a genuine smile.

“No, no, not Charles. Well, yes Charles but not as much. His name is Lando, we used to be teammates. He loves your music,” Carlos says and you quickly excuse yourself, claiming you need to put your guitar away.

“Sorry about that. Lando is a sensitive subject,” Alex says, not sure how much to say. Carlos nods, subtly pulling out his phone to look up your social media. It’s not hard to scroll through old posts and find one or two pictures of you and Lando together. You look so different, like a delicate doll. Carlos remembers Lando talking about an ex who just cut him out without warning, but he’s starting to think there is more to the story.

“Sorry, didn’t want my guitar to be in the sun too long,” you say, sitting back down beside Alex. “So, Carlos, how is racing with Charlie?” you ask. Carlos is quick to answer and with some more questions you find out that you will both be attending the Leclerc family dinner that night.

“What a beautiful day out,” Charles says as he rejoins you, having dropped anchor. You take to opportunity to lay out on the bow of the yacht, wanting some sun before jumping into the water.

“You okay?” Alex asks as she sits beside you. You arch your brow as you look up at her.

“Why wouldn’t I be. All that is in the past, plus I’m going to the race this weekend. Jokes on Lando, I’m so much better without him,” you say, meaning every word. Alex nods, glancing back to where Charles and Carlos are chatting.

“Carlos is nice,”

“What are you getting at?”

“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to get to know him?” Alex says and you glance back, ignoring the fluttering in your chest. “Charles wouldn’t bring him around you if he wasn’t sure how you would handle it,” her words ring true.

“He’s basically been my protector since he watched me get cheated on. Charles is a good friend. Maybe I’ll invite him to the pop up show,” you weigh your options. Maybe it’s time to move on, and so what if it’s your former boyfriend’s friend and former teammate. You’re all adults, and plenty of time has passed.

You barely notice when Alex is replaced by said Spaniard.

“It’s quite warm in the sun,” Carlos comments, breaking the silence.

“It is, I may have to go into the water soon,” you reply, eyes trained on how his muscles ripple when he takes off his shirt.

“Not a bad idea,” Carlos agrees, his tan skin brushing your arm.

“My band, Midnight Hours is playing a pop up show at this pretty popular club tonight, you should come out. Charles has a few extra passes,” you say, pushing your hair back.

“I’d love to, thanks,” Carlos hopes that you think the blush on his face is from the sun. He knows he shouldn’t find you attractive, you are Lando’s ex after all, but he can’t help it.

“Well, I’m going to swim. Talk to you later Carlos,” he doesn’t respond as his brain is slightly fried at how you say his name, he watches you walk away and jump into the water.

That night you go to the club soon after dinner with the Leclercs to set up and run a sound check. Passes to the concert sold out soon after it was announced.

“Nervous?” Lia, your bassist, asks as you pluck a string to tune it after the sound check.

“A little. More excited if anything,” you say, setting down the guitar on its stand.

“Well, let’s grab a round before the club opens and celebrate this,” she pulls you offstage to join the rest of the band.

The hour passes by quick, and you find yourself smoothing your tight black dress and fiddling with the rings on your fingers. Maybe heels were a bad option? But they make you look fabulous.

Charles nudges Carlos as they spot you waiting for your introduction. The two of them plus Arthur and Alex are close to the stage, ready to be your loudest supports.

The lights are blinding as you walk on, and the sound of cheering is deafening. Lando feels a punch of regret for coming. You look amazing, but so different from the girl he used to date. Your mini black dress a contrast from the cozy cardigans you used to live in. He can’t help but wonder if he really knew you.

Your set is phenomenal, at one point you catch Carlos’ eye and send him a wink. As soon as the set ends, your band clears the stage to party with everyone. You start at the bar though, knowing Charles will lead the charge to find you.

“Y/n,” a british accent calls your name from beside you, and your mood sours.

“What do you want, Lando?” you hold your cup a little tighter.

“Your set was incredible. I’m sorry for everything, what I did wasn’t cool,”

“You’re right, it wasn’t. Cheating on me the getting with her two weeks after I broke it off? I felt like shit, you made me feel like shit. You never wanted to come to one of these before, why show up now?” you scoff, barely able to look at Lando.

“I miss you, you look hot and I want to try again. I can be better,”

“But I’m better without you. I’m stronger, prettier, well off, and I really don’t need you,” you start seeing red.

“Mate, you should leave,” Charles stands beside you.

“How do you know Charles?” Lando’s eyes widen.

“He helped me when you were too focused on kissing the first blonde girl who batted her eyes at you,” you seethe. You feel a hand, larger than Charles’ rest on your shoulder. “Stay, go, do whatever you want. Just leave me alone,” you stare Lando down.

“It’s for the best, Cabrón,” Carlos says from behind you. Lando just nods and walks away.

“Chemistry,” he yells back at you before disappearing into the crowd, you feel a bit sick to the stomach. The last texts you sent him flash through your mind.

“You okay? What did he mean by that?” Alex asks as Arthur orders a round of shots.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It doesn’t matter what he meant, fuck him,” you take a drink, steeling yourself.

“Okay,” she sounds convinced enough as she turns to Charles.

“Hermosa, you can do so much better than him,” Carlos says, lips near your ear.

“Aren’t you his friend?”

“I know that whatever he did is fucked up, and he doesn’t deserve you. He’s too childish for you,” you feel your body flush with heat as he brushes against you.

“Bottoms up,” Arthurs yells, as you all grab shots.

“To a wonderful performance, and an even better night,” you cheer before throwing it back.

You wander around the club, dancing with your band and meeting fans before you find yourself dancing with Carlos. His hands hold you close to him. You tilt your head up, looking at Carlos under the club lights. He finds his hand wandering up to the back of your neck, pulling you close and kissing you. Your arms wrap around his neck, content with your situation.

“Alright lovebirds, time to go,” Arthur interrupts you, giggling at your flushed appearances. Carlos stays close to you as you follow Arthur to where Charles and Alex are waiting with your guitar.

For the first time in a very long time, you are excited to be at the track. You weren’t scared anymore, and it’s a powerful feeling. You don’t even mind Ferrari taking pictures and posting you as a guest, fans of Charles know who you are anyway. They’ve been in your comments begging you to attend for a long time.

“I gotta go do an interview, mind keeping Y/n company?” Charles asks Carlos, who’s been acting like a teenager with a crush all day.

You are standing not too far away, talking with an engineer about something. Carlos thinks you look beautiful, and he loves how excited you seem despite it only being FP1. The engineer excuses himself as Carlos approaches and for the first time of the day, you feel nervous.

“Have you seen an F1 car before?” Carlos asks, you simply shake your head no. “Well then, let me show you.” For a split second you wonder if this is what you were like when you showed Charles the lab you work in. You let him discuss aerodynamics and downforce, but you can’t help but let yourself geek out too.

“You know that I did study thermodynamics right? I actually helped Charles understand some of the tire compounds,” you smile, holding back a laugh.

“Really? I didn’t realize you studied, um,”

“Chemistry. My masters is in biochemistry, but during my undergraduate studies I worked in a materials lab,” your cheeks blush as you speak. You don’t know why, you aren’t really embarrassed. Maybe you are scared he will think differently of you.

“Really? That’s so cool, I just assumed you are a musician full time,” Carlos says before adding an afterthought. “Being that smart is pretty hot,”

“Thanks,” you laugh, not expecting his addition. “Maybe one day soon I will perform full time, but I really enjoy working in a lab,” you shrug, happy with where things are at. You can’t reveal where you will be a year from now, but it does make you a little sad to know that your life will change forever and your nerdy side will be left behind.

You and Carlos quietly flirt throughout the rest of the race weekend. Charles secretly hopes that your crush on his teammate would make you come to more races, but instead you throw yourself back into the band. You had to prepare for your growing popularity, finding an agent and professional support for things that your band wasn’t able to manage.

You end up quitting your job soon after, able to be stable enough with the new revenue streams from the band. It didn’t help that your band kept getting booked and you needed to be more serious about performing.

Carlos did find himself texting you frequently and even visiting you in England over the next few weeks.

One of those nights he finds himself relaxing in your apartment as you grab takeout from the delivery driver. It hits him how domestic and right it feels.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask as you sit beside him, eyes full of curiosity.

“You,” he says as he wraps his arms around you. “How much I want you to be my girlfriend,” you don’t think you’ve seen Carlos so nervous.

“Really?” you hum as you lean into him. You can’t deny that you are nervous. You haven’t even thought about dating someone since your breakup, and you weren’t expecting that question so soon.

“You don’t have to answer right away, I know it’s not an easy one,” Carlos senses your hesitation and running mind.

“Yes, my answer is yes,” you answer before your mind can think about it more, knowing you are making the right choice.

And so, you quietly date for the next year, waiting for the right moment to go public. You do attend races a little more frequently, but usually under the guise of being Charles’ guest.

You did get invited to a race as a guest of Ferrari, well, the whole band did. You were asked to take part in the races C squared video too.

“This weeks challenge is a highly requested one. How many songs by Midnight Hours can you name?”

“Mate, no. Charles is friends with the lead singer, he knows everything. This is so unfair,” Carlos groans, keeping his cover.

“That is true, I’ve known Y/n for a few years. Sorry, Carlos, you might as well take the loss now,” Charles smiles, ready to win.

“The rules are simple, we will play thirty seconds of a song and the first to guess it correctly wins,” you watch them carefully, trying to hide your laughter each time. They still don’t know you are in the room.

Carlos wins 3-2, Charles being too slow or guessing the wrong song.

“I’m a little disappointed, Charles. You forgot about the song you cowrote,” you shake your head as you appear in the frame. “Friend status revoked, Carlos is my bestie now,” you grin wider as your eyes meet Carlos’.

“But I’ve known you longer, you wouldn’t even know Carlos if it weren’t for me,” Charles protests. Carlos drapes an arm over your shoulders.

“Sorry, Charles, she likes me more now. I know her music better,” Carlos looks down at you with a soft smile while you laugh at Charles. To the general eye, it looks like you are two friends, but Charles can tell how enamored you are with each other. He just hopes that you will be able to share it with the world soon.

That moment comes in Australia. Your boyfriend won while recovering from surgery, you couldn’t help but kiss him, even if cameras were focused on you. The frenzy around your new relationship died down not to long after, some people brought up your past with Lando, but most dismissed it.

Fans posted many edits displaying the subtle clues you and Carlos gave. The way you gravitated towards each other, how you looked at him differently than Charles, the way you leaned into each other’s touch and always hugged for a little longer than others.

Unfortunately, You didn’t see Carlos as much once April hit. Carlos being busy with racing, you preparing to go on your first tour with the band, it didn’t leave much time for in-person dates. Video calls were great, but you missed the physical presence of Carlos. You anxiously awaited the day that Carlos, Charles, and Alex would attend the show, you even got Pierre and Kika passes to your tent.

For the first time, you feel nervous to take the stage. You’ve been practicing a new song with the band, your friends and Carlos were in the crowd, and you got a text from a friend warning you that Lando was spotted in attendance. The long awaited day finally arrived, and it’s proving to be quite the event.

“We can delay debuting the song,” Lia says as you tune your guitar, giving you an out if everything is too much.

“No way, We’ve been waiting for a year now to release it. No point in waiting any longer,” you start to hype yourself up. After a quick meeting with the band, you receive your cue from the stage manager. A few songs in you nod to the band, letting them know it’s time.

“If it’s alright with you, we’d like to play something that we’ve been working on for a while. I wrote this a few years ago and I think it’s time to share it with you. This is called She’s So Gone, it will be available at midnight tonight wherever you listen to music,” you turn away from the mic, silently counting the band in. The crowd loves it, and you feel a renewed confidence as you finish the set and make your way to where your guests are to watch the concert.

“That was incredible, you are actually amazing,” Carlos pulls you into his arms and kisses you softly.

“Thanks, Carlitos. I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you smile, relaxing in his embrace.

“Not to scare you or anything, but Midnight Hours is trending right now,” Alex says, showing you her phone. Some are videos of the song, which is blowing up. Others are comparisons of Lando’s sour reaction to Carlos’ clear support and excitement.

“Seems like it’s a good thing we got a PR manager recently,” you laugh, leaning into Carlos who presses a kiss to your head.

You weren’t always a fan of Taylor Swift, but you have grown an appreciation for her after spending time on tour with her. What surprised you was how much of her music the guys knew. Videos of them, and you, dancing during the concert went viral within the F1 community. All you really cared about was having a good time and being with your support system.

The song goes viral and people notice that Charles has a production credit on it. He helped you compose the song, and to you, the song represents how much he’s helped you since that night. You find yourself thinking about it as you sit in his apartment one night while petting Leo.

“You know, without you I wouldn’t be here,” you say, a little out of the blue.

“That’s not true,”

“It is. Your small act of kindness helped me start this journey. I threw myself into my music, we became friends, you made me comfortable around racing again, and you introduced me to Carlos. Without you I probably would’ve left, licked my wounds, then take Lando back because that was the easy thing to do,” you explain, words hanging heavy in the air. Charles sits beside you on the floor, shoulder to shoulder. The past year saw the two of you grow closer.

“For what it’s worth, you have helped me too. You’ve been like a sister to me, and I don’t regret helping you that night at all,” he nudges your shoulder. He’s watched you grow into yourself, and he is proud. Introducing you to Carlos was a risk, but he hasn’t seen you or his teammate happier.

Carlos was patient with you, letting you take as much time as you needed to tell him about your previous relationship with Lando and how you met Charles. He promised to be better than Lando, and he is. He is still on friendly terms with his former teammate, but he is glad that he has you and Lando fumbled you all those years ago.

A few years later you find yourself cuddled on the couch with your favorite Spaniard, wearing a chunky cardigan and snuggled under a knit blanket. Carlos plays with the ring on your finger, happy in the moment of domestic bliss. He’s at a high point in his career and you and the band were internationally known thanks to a large tour.

“Have I told you how much I love you, Hermosa?” Carlos asks, voice soft.

“All the time, but I don’t mind hearing it again,” you grin, content to stay like this forever. Carlos pulls your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your palm. You admire your fresh ink, his racing number beside your old butterfly.

You got the tattoo to carry him with you during shows and other events that he couldn’t be there, and now when you can’t wear your ring. You find yourself reminiscing over the proposal.

Carlos had brought you to monaco with him earlier in the year for an afternoon on the yacht with Charles and Alex. You didn’t even notice when Carlos stepped away for a moment and Charles and Alex left a few moments later to grab drinks.

You were relaxed, watching the sunset create a beautiful sky. You heard Carlos approach, but your eyes don’t leave the sea.

“Carlitos, come over here. The sky is perfect,” you sigh happily, leaning forwards on the railing.

“Not as perfect as you, cariño,” Carlos’ voice causes you to turn towards him, still blushing every time he makes a comment like that. Carlos was on one knee holding the prettiest ring you had ever seen, it’s like he took what you imagined in your mind and brought it to life.

“You make me never want to race again if it means staying like this forever, and when I do race, it’s like I’m trying to get back to you as soon as possible,” Carlos declares and you feel your heart swell. “You are my everything, mi reina, be mine forever.”

“Of course, Carlos, yes,” you try to fight the tears as he slides the ring onto your finger, standing to pull you close to him. Carlos leans down and kisses you softly. If only you could tell your younger self that this was how everything would turn out.