#I’m just really tired to have to answer the same questions over and over again

[trashywormeateroffics]

waited my whole life (steve rogers x reader)

the gif is not mine!

no summary it’s just a little thing, fluffy and reader struggling to be open with their emotions yay:)

a/n: well, long time no see….. i hope u enjoy!

masterlist

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“they really appreciate you, you know?” he says, still facing forward. he’s being going at this for months. trying to convince you that the team sees you as part of their family. the woods seem endless, stretched out by your tiredness from the mission and aching limbs still wrapped in a tact suit, and yet, though you cannot admit it to yourself, a whisper of a wish echoes through your mind. a wish for it to continue, on and on, perhaps on a loop. a wish for his company.

“i do too.”

he looks at you.

“you might be worse than me at taking a compliment.” you raise your eyebrows and huff out a laugh.

“one would think you out of everyone would know how to take praise.” you purse your lips, trying to hide an amused smile. “i mean, since you get it all the time.”

“right.” he scoffs, though his eyes twinkle with beguilement.

“i mean, the great captain america. everything that is wonderful and magical about this country.”

“that’s how you think of me?”

“i said captain america, not steve rogers.” he tilts his head.

“are they not the same?” you shrug your shoulders.

“what do you think?”

“once in a while you could answer a question without deflecting. won’t kill you.”

“it might.” your smile is mischievous. he shakes his head with fake exasperation. he never seems truly upset at you, never acts like having you around is an effort (even though you are pretty certain that it is), so, maybe, you could return the favor and be earnest for once.

you roll your eyes and huff. you’re not annoyed at him. you’re not annoyed at how he makes you feel. you’re just annoyed that it’s so hard to say, to show.

“you alright?” the space between his brows creases with soft concern. you open your mouth, ready to tell him that yes, you are fine. just tired from walking. you feel the deflection making its way up your throat, tensing your vocal chords, but he tilts his head and your mouth closes shut.

“you are steve.” he frowns, confused, and probably worried that you are experiencing a case of sudden amnesia, but before he can ask and deviate you from your mission, you continue. “there would be no captain america without steve rogers, but there would be a steve rogers without captain america.”

his eyes soften, and for a split millisecond you wonder if something just crossed his mind, or if he saw something behind you, because there is no way he could be looking at you like that. but then he says your name, it comes out breathy, almost with wonder, and so warm. you’ve never heard your name said like that. like a prayer, a prize, a solution. something good.

“don’t get all soft on me now, you’re still wearing the suit.”

he laughs an incredulous laugh. the corners of his eyes crinkle with mirth. it’s blinding, it’s light, it’s him.

“i’m always soft on you.” he says after he sobers up, though he is still smiling softly. “just waiting for you to realize it, sweetheart.”

that pet name. god. you might love it even more than when he says your name. he never calls anyone else by anything other than their name, or perhaps a common nickname. but never that. that is only for you. nat says it’s because you are the sweet part of his heart. you think his entire heart is sweet. you don’t understand how you could have a place there; he seems to know that, and that is why he reminds you over and over again in a million different ways that while you might not believe yourself deserving of it, that does not change the fact that to him you are rooted there. you want to be. there is nowhere else you’d like to rest.

you want to tell him everything. that he not only has put down roots in your heart, but that he has merged with the veins and the vessels that pump blood to it. that without him there wouldn’t be an empty space in your heart, there would simply be no heart. you want to be the person who loves loudly, he deserves that, but some wounds are still too deep, too fresh, and they seem to clog your lungs. the declaration gets stuck somewhere in between there and your throat (and your brain). it makes you panic, the fear that he cannot read your mind, your eyes, that he does not and will never know what he means to you, and that, at some point, he will leave to find someone who can and will tell him all of it. reassure him.

“steve…” it’s pleading. you’re sure you look like a scared animal, wild eyes and frantic breathing. without pausing his walk, he side steps a bit, getting closer to you. in a second your hand is enwrapped in his. he squeezes one, two, three times. then he caresses it with his thumb. your steps falter a bit, but you gather yourself quickly. it would’ve been unnoticeable to anyone, but not to him. you never go unnoticed by him.

he leans a bit, his mouth close to your ear and whispers, almost as a secret, as if not even the trees around you should be privy of it. only you.

“i’ll wait. whenever you’re ready. you’re worth all of it.” you shut your eyes tightly, trying to stop the onslaught of tears that are forming too quickly, trusting he will not let you fall as your feet keep moving forward. you hear him chuckle softly, barely, almost just to himself. you look at him. he’s already looking at you. he gives you a lopsided smile that makes you feel like he knows something you don’t, that maybe no one else does, before speaking again. “waited my whole life for ya, what’s a bit more time?”

and for the first time in your life, you believe someone. you believe him.

[mirensiart]

Sorry if this is a stupid ask, but which link is who? I have read your comics, but have trouble identifying them

You’re the third person to ask this, but this is an AU of an AU

I only tag my comics as Linked Universe (and not legend of Zelda) cause they’re based on the Linked Universe AU only lol

go check them out, they have a master post with all the Links and who is who, which are the same Links I use @linkeduniverse

[skzdarlings]

alternate ending ; sharing a bed ; chan

original sharing a bed one-shot with chan.

author's note: i do love the final smut edit (and it's my most popular piece so clearly i was right!) but i always missed this fluff version. the love confession is very cute in this one.

content info: still some suggestive content, the first half of the story is the same and there's some heavy kissing, but this is definitely the fluffy director's cut lol

word count: 1800 words

-

You let yourself into Chan’s room, expecting to find him awake and working despite the hour.   Whenever you sleep over, your friend is more than happy to let you sleep in his bed when you can’t get comfy on the couch.   Many nights have passed that way, nestled under his blankets and falling asleep to his typing and clicking and absent-minded humming.   He likes to work through his nights so you sleep until morning then leave when he turns in.   

He must have been tired tonight.  His laptop is shut, the room dark save for the little flickering lights of his computer station.  Chan is in bed already, laying with his back to you and the blankets tucked around him.  He is sound asleep, so much so that he didn’t even hear your gentle knocks. 

You feel bad for disturbing him now.   Commandeering his bed is a little different when he is already in it.

You turn to leave when the blankets rustle behind you.  Chan’s groggy voice breaks through the silence, a raspy, “Babygirl?  That you?” 

Maybe it’s the cold floor under your bare feet, maybe it’s the late hour, or maybe it’s the roughness in his voice, but despite how many times Chan has playfully and affectionately called you baby girl, this time a little shiver brushes up your spine. 

You turn back around, wrapping your arms around yourself.   Thanks to the faint light from his work area, you can see Chan clearly even in the dark.  He has rolled onto his back and is rubbing a hand over his face. 

“Sorry, Channie,” you whisper.  “You sleep.  It’s fine.” 

His blanket slips down his bare chest and he drops his arm, looking at you with crinkled, sleepy eyes.  His curly hair is an endearing mess, though your eyes go a little lower when the blanket falls to his waistline.  You quickly lift your gaze from his abdomen to his sleepy eyes.  He squints at you as he adjusts to the darkness.   

“Everything all right?” he asks, still groggy. 

“Yeah, don’t worry,” you say, as if that has ever stopped Chan from worrying anyway. 

He is a little more awake now, his brow pinching as he looks at you.  All at once his face goes slack with realization.  A smile pushes at his dimples. 

“Right,” he says.  “The couch sucks, yeah?  Sorry, wasn’t thinking—”

“Don’t apologize,” you say with a little laugh.  “It’s your bed.” 

“Auuggh,” he says with faux-agony, “I’m such a bad host.” 

You cannot hide your amusement, smiling when he slaps a melodramatic hand over his heart.  As usual, the goofball makes himself giggle with his dumb little theatrics, the sound twinkling in its delight.  Your heart skips a beat.  

“All right,” he says.  “No worries.  Big bed.  You wanna share?” 

It isn’t really a question because he doesn’t wait for an answer, flipping open the covers for you to slide in. 

When you step towards the bed, he throws up a cautionary hand and laughs again.

“Sorry, uh, just wait one second,” he says.  “I’m not, uh, technically decent.”

Your eyes drop again.  The blankets only just reach his hips and when he shifts to get out of bed, it becomes abundently clear that Chan is completely naked under the covers.   You very nearly choke on your own spit, swallowing hard as your frantic eyes dart around his body.  He is seemingly oblivious to your startled state, turning his back to you as he steps out of the bed.  The sheet slips smoothly off his body.

Without thinking, you spin around to give him some privacy.  This plan fails spectacularly as his closet door is a big mirror and you end up looking at him through it. 

He is nonchalant, walking up to his dresser.  Your view is his backside but you have no complaints.  You know you shouldn’t stare, but you do, eyes on the breadth of his shoulders, the definition of his arms, going down his sturdy back to his ass where you linger a beat longer, then diving down his strong thighs until the view is blocked by his bed.   You watch him step into a pair of boxers, doing a little jump before snapping the band around his hips.  He turns around and you quickly close your eyes, grateful he cannot hear your heart going a mile a minute. 

“All right,” he says pleasantly. “All good now.  Come on.” 

He gets in the bed first and holds it open for you.  He is smiling so sweetly and you feel like the world’s nastiest horniest monster, gawping at him as you stumble to the bed.  You try not to think about how Naked Chan was laying between these sheets just moments ago.  

Somehow, you slide into the bed without making a huge fool of yourself.  You even manage to settle down, albeit stiffly.  So stiffly that Chan notices and laughs again, that same bubbly giggle as he reaches out to tweak your nose. 

“Y’okay?” he asks, his bare face so open and sweet that you melt with both affection and embarrassment. 

“Mhm,” you lie.  Your heart skips another beat when your leg brushes his under the covers. 

“C’mere, silly,” he says, wrapping his arm around you and tugging you across the bed.   You go with a squeak of surprise, planting your face in his bare chest.   “Better?” he asks.

“Mmmhf.”

With a little more shuffling, you settle again.   Chan lays on his back with one arm wrapped around you, you on your side just as snuggly holding onto him.  You rest your head on his chest, your fingers bouncing where they rest on his abdomen.   It takes a lot of effort not to start tracing the lines of his body, and even more effort not to drool all over him, but you do manage. 

Your heart is still beating quickly.  You are way too awake to just drift off.   Still, there is something cozy and safe about laying in his arms.  Even though you can’t sleep, you are content to rest in silence.  Your close your eyes and let your breathing follow the same cadence of his chest as it lifts and falls. 

You begin to slip into a drowsy, dream-like state, but you are awake enough that you feel his hand slip down your back.  It doesn’t go lower, but he touches the base of your spine and holds you a little closer to him.

“Baby girl,” he whispers.  “You awake?” 

You are lucky you don’t mewl like an overly amorous kitten.  A few little pets and a whispered name and he almost has you whimpering. 

Not trusting yourself to behave, you pretend you are fully asleep.   He just sighs, his thumb rubbing a little circle on your lower back.  You keep your eyes firmly shut the whole time. 

“I’m so fucking stupid,” he whispers.

He sounds exasperated. You don’t think it’s your fault, because he lovingly tips his head to rest it on yours.  There is another moment of silence, so you assume he was talking to himself about nothing particular, but then he releases a deep breath. 

“I told myself I was gonna talk to you tonight,” he says, still whispering and still exasperated.  “Talk to her when you meet for coffee, Chan.  Buy her favourite tea and tell her.  Tell her now, Chan, while she’s sitting on your couch.  Don’t hide in your room.  She’s hugging you, Chan, tell her now...” 

You try not to get ahead of yourself, but it sounds like your friend is grumbling his way through a love confession.  A grin tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“Does it count if I tell you while you’re sleeping?” he asks.

Yes, you think.  You massive dork.

You have no idea how one man can be so dweeby and so hot at the same time, but Chan manages it.  His hand covers your hip while his other hand brushes hair out of your face.  Is he staring at you with the same lovestruck goofiness that you looked at him?

You get your answer when he speaks again. 

“Love you, baby girl,” he says, voice gone even softer than his previous whispers.  His hand falls away and he sighs.  “Maybe you’ll, like, internalize it or something, in your sleep, yeah?  Please. ‘Cause I’m crazy about you.  I love you so much.  I’m so fucking stupid.  What am I even doing right now?  Fuck, I’m a fucking idiot.” 

You crack an eye open.  His eyes are closed and he looks incredibly pained by his performance despite thinking you didn’t even hear it.    

Joy is a bubbly thing in your chest, threatening to burst out of you with an explosion of giggles.  You restrain yourself in favour of another manouvre. 

You shift as if moving in your sleep.  Your hand slides up his chest and hooks onto his shoulder while you lift your head.  He must be looking at you because you feel a little puff of breath against your cheek. 

“Channie,” you murmur in a sleepy voice. 

“Yeah, baby, I’m here.  What’s up?” 

You blink your eyes open and hit him with the most tender, wanting expression you can muster.   He visibly swallows. 

You wrap your hand around the back of his neck, your nails scratching the way he likes.  Sometimes he just plops his head in your lap and shoves your hand somewhere up there to tickle and scratch his head.  You know what makes him happy and it causes the usual shiver of pleasure.   Combined with your steady gaze, it makes him effectively pliant.  You easily pull his head closer. 

The once impossible space between you is finally closed.  Your lips come together in a gentle, careful kiss, one that is interrupted by his sharp intake of breath.  You take in a shaky breath of your own. 

“Chan,” you whisper.  “I love you too.” 

“Oh,” he says, staring at your mouth.  “Good.  That’s good.”  He smiles when you giggle, then he brushes his nose against yours.  “Good thing.  Otherwise it would have been really awkward when I do this.” 

He rolls over you, kissing you with such ardor that you feel as if you are melting into his sheets.  You hum sweetly against his lips as he gathers your hands to pin them by your head.  When he licks into your mouth, you arch against him and make him moan. Your knees cradle his hips as he settles against you.  

His head falls to the crook of your neck where he kisses you softly. 

“Chan,” you say, a breathy sound.  You wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Yeah, baby girl,” he says.  He kisses under your jaw, your cheek, then your mouth again.  “I got you,” he says. 

Knowing it’s true, you smile into the next kiss. 

[jjkamochoso]

How You React To JJK Characters Describing You as Their Type When Todo Asks

Fluff

Request from anon! This was a super fun one, thanks again for the request!! Also, I didn't do Mai, Miwa or Momo with this one, but added in Nanami; if you would like me to add the other girls back in, lmk and I absolutely will!! :)

JK Men x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Part 2 to this fic; same premise here, the students are all in a big group when the question was asked! <3

Yuji:

“Yuji! What kind of person is your type?”

“My type? Uh, let’s see,” he said, putting his thumb and forefinger to his chin in thought. After he gave his reply, you noticed everyone glancing between him and you.

“What? Is there something on my face?” you asked, wiping your cheek.

“No, you dummy,” said Nobara, “didn’t you hear what Itadori’s type was?”

“Yeah. So?”

“So? So? He described you perfectly,” she hissed. You thought back to his answer and your eyes went wide, realizing she was right. You looked over at the pink haired boy.

“Is that true? Your type is me?” you asked him, not caring that everyone was deeply invested in your conversation.

“Yeah. Is that… okay?” he asked, nervously ruffling his hand through his hair.

“Only if you ask me on a date,” you said with a playful wink, walking away. Yuji just stared at you, hearts in his eyes, until Nobara smacked him.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Go ask them!”

He hurried after you, eager to ask you out.

Megumi:

“Tell us, Fushiguro, what kind of person is your type?”

Megumi rolled his eyes. “Things like that are so unimportant. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters more than you think. It tells you everything you need to know is about a person. Like how you’re a wimp for not answering,” said Todo, crossing his arms with a triumphant smirk.

“Fine,” replied Megumi through gritted teeth, tired of Todo’s pestering, “you really wanna know? I’ll tell you.”

As he described his dream person, you felt your face get warmer and warmer.

“That, um, kind of sounds like me, doesn’t it?” you whispered to Yuji.

“There’s no ‘kind of’ about that, y/n,” he whispered back, just as surprised as you were. When Megumi saw you looking at him, he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away, clearly embarrassed. You ran after him as fast as you could.

“Megumi, wait! I have to talk to you!” you exclaimed, halting him with a grip of his arm.

“I’m sorry, that was a big mistake, I shouldn’t have said anything-”

“I like you. A lot,” you confessed. “You’re my type, too.”

“R-really?” His voice squeaked and he quickly cleared his throat. “I mean, really? That’s good. Great. I’m… relieved.”

You chuckled at his adorable flustered state. “Me too. I guess Todo is good for something after all.”

Nobara:

“Kugisaki! What’s your type?”

“My type? That’s simple,” she answered, her bright bob swinging. As she described the kind of person she found attractive, you couldn’t help the giddiness bubbling up inside; she was describing you!

“Kugusaki? Can I talk to you over here for a second?” you asked, signaling her to follow you away from the group. Yuji, understanding what was happening, gave you a thumbs up.

“Do you have a crush on me?” you questioned. “Because the person you described sounded exactly like me.”

Nobara immediately went into the defensive, crossing her arms defiantly.

“Huh?! Nuh uh, that could be anybody here,” she replied, her face lighting up with a small blush.

“Oh. What a shame, I’ve had a crush on you for a long time,” you said, preparing to walk away. Nobara’s hand darted to your own, prompting you to stop.

“Wait! I… do like you, okay?” she mumbled, not meeting your eyes. “It’s just a crush, though, it’s not like I’m in love or anything stupid.”

You laughed lightly at her attitude. She was a piece of work, but if everything went well, she’d be your piece of work.

Maki:

“Zenin, spill. What kind of person is your type?”

“Do you really have nothing else rolling around in that tiny brain of yours?” Maki asked, obviously annoyed.

“Who would’ve thought someone as fearless as you would be scared by a little question, hmm?” a vicious voice from Mai said.

“I’m not scared, it’s a dumb question,” Maki replied, “but I’ll answer it anyway to get you idiots off my back.”

When she was done describing her type, you felt Yuta nudge you softly.

“Y/n, I think she likes you,” he said in a hushed tone.

“So what if I do, huh?” she said aggressively, overhearing what Yuta told you. The tension that overcame the group was uncomfortable, so much so that everyone left, leaving you and Maki by yourselves. She kept her eyes trained elsewhere, not wanting to meet yours.

“This whole thing was stupid. Forget I said anything,” she snarled.

“Maki,” you said with such softness that she actually looked at you, “I really like you. You’re my type, too.”

She scoffed as she looked away once more, hiding her warmed face. “You’re such a sap, you know that?”

Inumaki:

“Inumaki! What’s your type?”

“He can’t talk, you jerk,” you exclaimed defensively. You turned to Toge. “Just ignore him, okay? You don’t have to answer.”

“Salmon,” he responded, placing a hand on your arm to signal he was alright. He sighed as he approached Todo.

“Salmon salmon,” he told him, earning a confused look from Todo.

“Anyone care to translate?” the tall man asked. Toge rolled his eyes and tried again.

“Salmon salmon,” he said, this time making his pointing toward you more obvious.

“Your type is… L/n?” wondered Todo. Toge nodded meekly as you were overcome with butterflies in your stomach. He turned away from the group as Todo asked the same question to the next victim.

“Toge, I’m your type?” you asked, your voice shaking a little.

He nodded.

“Does that mean you like me?”

He nodded again. You immediately wrapped him in a hug, making him stumble back before wrapping his arms around you as well.

“I’ve liked you for so long now. I never thought I’d have Todo to thank for this, but I guess weirder things have happened.”

Yuta:

“Okkatsu, tell us, what kind of person is your type?”

“I can appreciate all types of people,” Yuta answered happily, making you smile. He was always so kindhearted!

“I don’t believe that,” replied Todo, narrowing his eyes. “You have to have one certain type of person you always find attractive.”

“I mean, I guess so,” he replied, starting to look nervous.

“And that is?” Todo raised an eyebrow.

“Um, let’s see…”

When Yuta was describing that person, you felt a tug on your sleeve. Inumaki was looking at you and you nodded in understanding.

“You picked up on that, too?” you asked, getting an enthusiastic nod in response. Yuta blushed when he noticed you watching him and quickly encouraged Todo to ask the question to someone else to keep him from embarrassing himself more. What he didn’t notice, until it was too late, was who Todo asked next.

“L/n! What’s your type?”

“That’s easy,” you said, your eyes never leaving Yuta’s as you smiled. “It’s Okkatsu.”

He could’ve sworn he died and went to Heaven right there!

Gojo:

“Gojo-sensei! What kind of person is your type?”

“Ooh, are we all playing a little get-to-know-each-other game?” asked Satoru excitedly. “I love it when the students bond like this.”

You were walking by the group when you overheard your fellow teacher getting involved in the kids’ antics so naturally, you stopped to watch.

“My type, hmm?” He was deep in thought, his forefinger to his chin. “Ah! Got it.”

As he was describing the person, the kids started snickering while looking at you. At first you didn’t understand why, but when it clicked, your first instinct was to grab Satoru by the back of his shirt collar and drag him away.

“Thanks for the fun!” he yelled, waving goodbye. When you were far enough away, out of sight and earshot of the students, you punched him in the arm.

“Ouch! Trouble in paradise already?” he teased.

“What the hell, Satoru? Our students aren’t supposed to know about teachers’ crushes on each other,” you reprimanded.

“What happens when we get married? They’ll know when they have to address you as Gojo-sensei. Or address me as L/n-sensei, I don’t care about the whole name situation,” he said airily, waving his hand around.

“You are truly impossible,” you said, rubbing your fingers on your forehead to ease your oncoming headache.

He poked your arm. “But you love me, don’t you?”

“I like you. And that’s trouble as it is,” you groaned, earning a smile and arm slung around your shoulder from the man.

“That’s enough for me, baby.”

“Don’t ever say that again.”

“Noted.”

Noritoshi:

“Kamo! What’s your type?”

“I don’t want to play your nonsense games, Todo,” remarked Noritoshi, frustrated.

“The next head of the Kamo clan refuses to answer such an easy question? That tells me everything I need to know about your character,” smirked Todo.

Noritoshi scowled. “Don’t question my character over my disbelief in your stupid qualifications.”

“Admit it, Kamo. You’re scared,” teased Mai, which sent him over the edge. He explained his type to the group, finishing with, “-don’t ever ask me something so idiotic in the future.”

“So… your type is L/n,” said Todo.

“Yes.” Noritoshi’s eyes widened when he realized what he said. “No! Wait! I don’t…”

He stopped, coming to terms that the damage was already done.

“All of you get on my nerves,” he barked, walking away quickly. You hurried after him.

“Noritoshi,” you said after catching up with him, “I really like you. You’re exactly my type too.”

He studied your eyes for any sign of deceit, but he didn’t find any. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he let a small smile fall upon his lips.

“Maybe the brainless question was useful after all.”

Todo:

“Todo! What’s your type?” you asked the muscled man. He looked surprised at you speaking up, but immediately replaced that expression with a wide smile.

“You.”

You burst into laughter. “No, I’m being serious, Aoi. What kind of person are you into?”

“I am serious, you’re exactly my type. I think you’re really attractive.”

You were about to laugh again when you noticed he was being genuine.

“You’re not… joking?”

“You seriously didn’t know? You’re all he talks about or looks at,” said Noritoshi. “Even I’ve noticed that much.”

“So, what do you say?” Aoi addressed you with another smile. “You want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Yeah. That would be amazing,” you breathed out, still shocked at the outcome you weren’t expecting but would gladly accept.

Nanami:

“Nanami-sensei! What kind of person is your type?”

Todo’s loud voice made Kento stop abruptly in his tracks.

“I’m not a teacher so don’t address me as such,” he sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Secondly, that’s none of your business. If you’ll excuse me.”

“Nanamin!” Yuji exclaimed, blocking the exasperated man’s path. “It’s a harmless question! We just wanna know more about you.”

Kento observed the shining eyes of the children staring at him and he sighed again, this time more forcefully.

“My type is a person who is smart enough to stay far away from this troublesome group,” he grumbled, making a beeline for your laughing figure as you watched from afar.

“Not a fan of my students’ curiosity, Nanami-sensei?” you teased, causing him to groan.

“They’re much too nosy. I have no interest in delving into my love live with children.”

“How about with another adult, then?” you asked.

He raised an eyebrow. “I’d hardly call you an adult with the way you’re acting right now.”

“I’d be hurt if you weren’t right,” you replied. “C’mon, we trust each other. I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“Fine,” he relented, “but this isn’t how I pictured telling you. I was hoping for a more mature environment when confessing my romantic feelings towards you.”

You stood in shock at his sudden confession. You were joking with the man, not expecting him to come up with a real answer, but instead, he admitted he liked you.

“To make myself clear,” he said, noticing your lack of a reaction, “you’re my type.”

You stumbled over your words in your surprised state. “I… wow. I wasn’t expecting that.” You took in a deep breath to calm yourself. “That does make it a lot easier to say my type is overworked blondes named Kento.”

His lips quirked up into a hint of a smile. “You think I’m overworked?”

“I know you are.” You mustered up all your courage before continuing, asking, “How about you take some time off and join me for dinner later?”

Kento’s smile became much more prominent. “That was supposed to be my line, but that would be lovely nonetheless. I’ll pick you up at 7.”

[blushweddinggowns]

Eddie threw an arm over Steve's shoulder, bringing him into a half-hug, “So, what did you guys think?”

“It was great!” Steve said quickly, relaxing into Eddie’s side, “You guys killed it, dude!”

“He’s right,” Robin agreed, “It was awesome! Super, duper fun and we’re so glad we got to see it. But actually, we kinda got to go-”

Eddie frowned, the loose grip he had over Steve’s shoulder tightening on it’s own accord, “Go where? Don’t tell me you guys are tired already?”

For some reason, Robin didn’t look at him after he asked the question. Instead she looked to Steve, a brow raised as she waited for something. But then Steve was giving her a subtle nod, her queue to start talking again. She leaned in closer, whispering as loud as she could in the noisy environment, “So… you’re like cool, right? Steve said you were cool.”

Eddie cocked his head at her, beyond confused, “I-yes? I guess?”

“About the thing?” She pressed, jerking her head his direction, “Steve’s thing?”

“Oh!” Eddie blurted, finally catching on. But he still didn’t get what Steve being gay had to do with them ditching. He nodded quickly, “Very cool with it. Have zero issues.”

It was almost true. Whatever issues Eddie had with Steve’s sexuality involved his own bullshit more than anything else. Plus, his answer had Robin smiling. Gesturing for Eddie to lean in closer, “Good. Because we, um. Share the affliction if you catch my drift.”

“That’s fine,” Eddie said, not missing a beat. He had kind of figured that out along the way. Considering the process of elimination on who could have possibly talked Steve through his queer thoughts. Not that Eddie cared, “No problem here.”

“Good!” She said with a grin, “Then you know just how limited our options are where we live. And according to an insanely pretty girl, there is an honest to god gay bar, like a few blocks away!”

Eddie swallowed, discomfort suddenly settling in at the suggestion, “T-That’s where you guys are going?”

“Yeah!” She said excitedly, setting her sights back onto Steve, “It’s time for someone to realize that we are hot enough to flirt and be flirted with! Closets don’t matter when you’re hours away from home.”

“We share the exact same closet,” Steve groaned, “Don’t start preaching to me.”

“And tonight we can escape from it!” Robin argued, “Come on! Eddie’s going to be busy with his friends and groupies anyway. What else are we doing-”

“I’m actually not that busy,” Eddie interrupted, trying his damndest to keep his voice calm. Suddenly, he felt nauseous again. He didn’t-He knew Steve could handle himself. He did. B-But creeps were everywhere! And he wasn’t used to being around guys who only wanted one thing and Robin would be distracted with girls a-and Eddie was really struggling with this idea.

Though Steve seemed to disagree. The next thing he knew, Steve was smiling back at her. Letting out a good-natured sigh, “Fine, fine! We can go. Someone has to make sure you don’t get kidnapped.”

“Oh my god, yes!” Robin nearly squealed, bouncing a little in her seat, “This is gonna be so fun!”

Eddie’s heart squeezed uncomfortably in his his chest at the excitement, dread starting to fill him. He opened his mouth, words escaping before he could even think of it, “Sounds like you two might need a D.D. I can do it.”

It was probably the first time Eddie had ever invited himself to something he clearly wasn’t a part of. But he had to give himself some credit for how smoothly it came out. 

Robin looked up at him, clearly surprised, “Really? It’s not exactly your scene.”

Eddie shrugged, “It could be. I like George Michael.”

Steve snorted next to him, “That is the one true gay litmus test. You got us there.”

“Seriously though,” Eddie pressed, refusing to let it go, “Then you can both drink, dance, have fun. And not worry about how you’re getting back to the hotel.”

“But don’t you want to stay here?” Steve asked, “Robin wasn’t kidding about the groupies. You should have heard what some of them were saying.”

“You could definitely get laid,” Robin added. She was staring at him now, looking at Eddie in a way that seemed a little past confused. Like she was examining him. Testing him. Or maybe that was just in his head. 

Eddie held firm, “Maybe, but I’d rather hang out with you two vs playing wingman to the boys. What do you say?”

“If you really don’t mind…” Steve said, trailing off. But Eddie could tell that he was happy. He could barely keep his smile to himself as he looked to the side, biting his lip in a way that Eddie fucking knew other people would notice. How could they not? 

from the next chapter of this fic

[star-sim]

crush ☆ sunghoon park

☆ non-idol! bf! sunghoon x fem! reader ☆ summary: you love to tease your cute boyfriend, sunghoon. ☆ genre: fluff, cute n sleepy n whipped sunghoon ☆ warning(s)? nope! just fluff ☆ word count: 0.9k words

It was late at night when Sunghoon Park was shaken awake.

“Hoonie, wake up!” his girlfriend, you, whisper-yelled, shaking him emphatically. “I need you to wake up!”

Half-asleep with disheveled hair and grogginess, Sunghoon shot up. His pale hand shot for yours, clutching it close. 

“Di suhthih happeh (Did something happen)?” Sunghoon could barely pronounce his syllables. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced over at you. In the dark room, he could see your glassy eyes and perfect face- and goddamn was it perfect even in the absence of light.

“Yes!” you answered, squeezing his hand. “It’s really important!”

“Wha-” Sunghoon swiped another finger over his eyes, bringing a hand to grasp his silvery hair. “What happened?”

You slithered an arm around his waist, throwing a leg over his hips and pushing him back down onto the pillows so that you were snuggled right up against him. Sunghoon was too tired to question it, letting out a yawn. You stayed in a cuddled-up position for a few moments, before you giggled.

“I have a crush on someone.”

“What?!”

Sunghoon was wide awake now. He whipped his head over to yours against the pillows. You two lied like that, staring into each other’s eyes. You giggled again.

“Y-You have a crush on someone?” Sunghoon was appalled. You were his. How could you like someone else when he was right there?

Your lips wore a wide smile. “Shhh, you can’t tell anyone.”

“What are you talking about?!” Sunghoon vehemently asked, bringing his hands up to clutch your face. His fingers pressed onto your smiling cheeks, frowning at the way you looked so happy. 

You chuckled, leaning in to kiss Sunghoon's jaw.

“I’ll kill him,” Sunghoon muttered.

“You’ll what?” 

Sunghoon frown deepened. 

He pulled away, turning his back to you.

“I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch,” the man grumbled.

You shared a moment of silence.

Sunghoon Park couldn’t believe that his girlfriend had a crush on someone! And he didn’t know about it! At the same time, he couldn’t help but feel the dejection that came from the other side of the bed.

He sighed.

“Who is it?”

You didn’t respond.

Sunghoon sighed louder this time, turning back to you.

“Who’s your crush?”

A mischievous smile grew on your face, before you clung onto him again.

“It’s a guy,” you began, fingers coming up to play with Sunghoon's soft, white hair. “He has white hair.”

“Why would anyone have white hair?” Sunghoon murmured to himself, but not quiet enough to go unheard by you.

“And he’s really dumb,” you continued, watching the way Sunghoon seemed to perk up at that description. “But he’s handsome.” He deflated.

Sunghoon scowled.

You glanced over to him. With two fingers, you walked up his chest slowly, stopping at his chin.

“What’s his name?”

“Hmmm,” you pretended to think.

Your boyfriend filled his cheeks with air, frowning with impatience. "Can I just have a hint? Like a letter?" The desperation in his voice only made you want to tease him more.

You bit back a laugh, “I can’t tell you. You’ll know who immediately.”

Sunghoon scoffed, before asking, “Do I know him?”

“Yeeeaahh,” you drew out your syllable. “You know him reealllyy well.”

“As if I’d know a loser like him.”

You tapped Sunghoon's chin with the tips of your fingers, before softly caressing his cheeks. He leaned into your touch, inhaling your sweet scent.

“He has a mole on his eyelid,” you brushed your fingers over his eyes, connecting it up to his eyebrow, “And cute eyebrows.”

“He must be ugly.”

You tapped his brow-bone gently. “Not quite. I sleep with him sometimes.”

Sunghoon jolted back up at those words. He balled his hands into fists. 

“Who is it?” he grabbed your shoulders, shaking you. You watched the way his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line. “Who do you like?”

You stifled a laugh. You took your time answering.

“But what if you tell someone?” you innocently cocked your head. “How can I trust you?”

Sunghoon squeezed your shoulder. “I won’t tell anyone!”

He looked at you with wide and dark eyes. He was completely serious.

“Pinky promise?” you extended your finger. Sunghoon linked his pinky with yours immediately, even going as far as to ‘lock’ the promise in. You motioned for him to come closer to you, cupping your hands around his ears. 

Sunghoon's heart pounded in his chest. How dare some guy come out of nowhere and take his girlfriend?

“His name is Sunghoon Park,” you whispered.

Sunghoon's heart dropped to his stomach. “He sounds like a bastard.”

You blinked at him and shook your head, before flopping back into bed, giggling.

“Wh– Why are you laughing?!” Sunghoon gently hit your leg that was under the blanket. Your fit of giggles and laughter didn’t die down until a few minutes later. His cheeks burned with both embarrassment and irritation. When you finally stopped laughing, Sunghoon looked at you seriously. “Are you going to tell me more about this ‘Sunghoon Park’ guy?”

“No.”

“Wha–”

“Good night!”

After a few pouty kisses, grumbles to himself, and twenty minutes, Sunghoon finally shot up from bed once again.

His cheeks were bright pink. His heart was racing, and he felt jittery.

“W-Wait!” he nearly yelled. “You have a crush on… me?”

“Mhm.”

“As in…. You like-like me?” You hummed. Sunghoon gasped, clasping a hand over his mouth. “Oh gosh! Oh my! Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

“I’m already your girlfriend.”

“Oh.”

“Dumbass.”

“Hey!”

[cryptfile]

☆ Loveseat, [ Carmen Berzatto AU ]

SUMMARY — After being in a relationship with Carmen, you cannot help but being extra judgemental when it comes to food.

WARNINGS — i’m currently rotting in hell, meaning: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, +18 content, there’s a lot of, cursing, choking, praising, dirty talking, mentions of food and eating, hair pulling, fingering.

SIDE NOTES — This is my first post here, so hope you guys like it. English’s not my first language so if there's any mistakes in advance, i’m sorry. Please interact if you like this, reblogs, comments, likes, all means a lot to me! I’ll leave my inbox open so you can suggest more characters! This takes place in an alternative timeline for own my liking, enjoy! x

Lately, Carmen Berzatto was not sure how he managed to get you.

To be completely honest, most of his friends seemed to wonder how he managed to pull the tattooer that adorned his hands with cool designs being that shy, however, when you started texting him photos of your daily food stating it was complete bullshit — He knew he had you in for a long time.

He would explain himself it was something casual at first. A few texts every now and then, swimming between a wave of bad jokes and tension he was sure he was imaging as he read through the texts you send at least twice, then, he would know he’d win you over with food.

Maybe that’s when you became so judgemental at first, after trying the lasagna he made for you after being so tired from working all day long, something else just snapped, even when he was done being near the fire, not even wanting to look at a plate ever again: He managed to spoil you with something good to eat anyways, making you moan in pure pleasure after craving some good food all day.

Of course it was important, can you even blame him?

He was not very vocal about it, hell, it was hard for him to even admit it even after being with you almost six months, but he loved the way you reacted to all his stuff. Even if it was something simple like scrambled eggs or regular pasta with plain butter, it was the way you groaned and grab the spoon licking the silverware clean, showering him with praises after when he was so used to be miserable in the kitchen.

“Open up,” he says before feeding you with the spoon. It was one of those nights where he was trying new stuff at your place, keeping you up till late seated on the kitchen counter close to him as he cooked, opening your mouth just to give an allegedly meaningful critique. “Any thoughts? Feedback?”

It was a wild ride for sure. A turbulent one as you closed your eyes all suddenly, the image burnt on the back of his head when you groaned savoring the taste like it was something else.

“Dunno,” you admit later on, trying to think on anything bad to say — “Need to have another bite before giving an honest answer.”

He smirks in response, repeating the same action just to hear you speak again. Being with you was something similar as his cigarette breaks, escaping from all the stress he usually gets in his life.

Silence again.

“Well fuck, you have me here. Maybe needs some more salt,” you think out loud. Almost trying to say something bad out of force as you knew he wouldn’t stop until he got an brutally honest answer. “The combinations of flavors though is really breathtaking, you outdone yourself this time. Could tattoo this risotto on me, no questions asked.”

Salt? He takes a bite himself almost immediately.

“It doesn’t need any more salt” he replies furrowing his brows in response. “We’ve talked about this sweetheart…”

“You wanted me to be a critique,” you admit almost offended, letting out a light chuckle before stealing the spoon from his hand in one swift movement. “I'm, being indeed, sincere here."

God. It was those moments that made him catch his breath, how the minutes passed slower and everything else seemed to blurry around the two of you. He cannot deny it, cause he loves the snarky responses, the way your mouth wraps around the spoon in a way that made him so devastated at the sight, head spinin’ with the thought of the things he already did to you, the memories that he seems to cherish so deeply.

He cannot stop either when his fingers toy with your hair, the strains sliding smoothly through his fingers. You seemed to enjoy it too, cause it's all it takes to make you forget about the food, leaning into his touch.

"Since when you became my main critique, hm?” he asks, placing himself between your tights as he invaded your space with nothing but pure confidence in his cooking skills. He knew for a fact, it didn't need any more salt. "Made you so spoiled you are a new expert here, baby?"

“Well, it’s your fault anyway" you defend yourself, narrowing your eyes at his words. "You're the one who spoils me rotten, always feeding me nice tasty stuff, keeping me up till’ late trying new things. I’m what you taught me to be, cannot blame for being a good critique. It is what it is."

"So you're blaming me for being a caring partner?" he cannot hold the laugh back, pulling on your hair almost enough to make you look at him. “S’that what you’re implying here?” 

“Would never even dare to” you admit all innocence bitting the inside of your cheek, and Carmen swears you’re doing it just to get in his brain, to control every action in that twisted brain of yours, and he cannot stop himself to fall every time, pulling on your hair slightly rougher this time as he towers over you. “Just implying that you’ll ruin food for me forever if we keep this up.” 

“Not seeing what’s the problem with that” he simply replies as he stared at your expression, how the simple act of your head tilted backwards made his blood boil, the exposed skin of your neck pulling him like the polar opposite of a magnet as he looks down at you — “Don’t really care.”

He’s clearly enjoying that. The sudden proximity as his left hand travels through your side, gripping onto your tight as he gives a light squeeze, tracing invisible patterns against your warm skin that contrasts so much to the chef’s usual cold hands. 

He cannot possibly have enough of you as you melt into his touch, in the very edge of turning into a mad man as he grabs a fistful of your hair to pull you in a demanding kiss, tongue-tracing over your lower lip, almost asking for a formal invitation to finally invade you, his breathing colliding against your skin, holding you in place as he suffers from a burst of pure adrenaline. 

His hands betray him in no time, drawn by the sounds you make when he’s nibbling on that nice curve on your neck, allowing his hand to glide over your soft skin just to end up in your inner tights, fingertips just barely touching as he just watches over you, the sight of you being just enough, that nice smell on your skin when he kisses your neck, your perfume being all around him… it’s getting to him.

He quickly becomes all so vocal, when he’s finally reaching the fabric of your shorts and his touch leaves a burnt sensation behind, the sound of his voice echoing in your ears.

“Gonna’ ruin it f’ya, baby” he says in a low voice — “Looking s’hot all bothered already just for a few kisses, cannot help but spoil m’girl.” 

Of course he fucking loves it. He loves how he knows exactly how to make a mess out of you, touching just the right places, concentrated in your pleasure as he drags the velvety fabric of your shorts to the side, making you crave the touch of his fingertips before finally slide them beneath the fabric of your underwear, lips parted as he finally touches your entrance, taking his time with you.

“God, you’re so wet f’me already, so damn warm” he says in a low whisper, making you talk in between your erratic breathing words that don’t seem to mean anything.

It’s so good. The frantic feeling washing over him as his fingers move in circles over your clit, the almost unnoticible wet sounds filling the air of the kitchen as he places soft kisses in that very spot where your shoulder meet the curvature of your neck. He just knows exactly what he’s doing. How to get under your skin, how to make you run out of breath, and he simply grew attached to it, to the way your skin feels so smooth against his fingers and you act up minutes before beggin’ for more.

And when he finally buries two digits in your cunt — God fucking damn.

He cannot keep the facade, blue eyes drinking the sight of you in as you moan, hips moving against his palm watching how his fingers dissapeared in you, pumping slowly at first, enjoying the way your walls wraps around his fingers, the words that came out of your opened mouth in pure desperation.

“Bear,” you would say in an unsteady breathing “O-oh fuck yes, yes baby, please don’t stop, please-”

The hand who pulled your hair before now tightens around your throat, and he can see you smiling like you’re in fucking paradise before he presses against that nice spot in the side of her neck, cutting the suministration of air to your lungs slightly. Always so eager, making him try new things together even when he was used to an relatively calm, almost non-existant sex life when all his focus was on the restaurant, insisting on trying new things that he end up loving.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me, taking me so s’good” he praises you for a moment, obliging you to look at him when he talks “Lettin’ my fingers fill you up like this, a mess already.”

“That’s it baby, move those pretty hips, need you to keep fuckin’ y’self.”

Lewd sounds, his tight grip on your neck, your hips arching to find that perfect place for him to hit and it’s all it takes for the chef to bring you closer and closer to the edge, fingers curling inside your soaked cunt, moaned sentences that in his ear are only adding up fuel to keep flexing his muscles for you, to keep on stimulating you.

“Gonna cum,” you let him know, but he’s quickly shaking his head in disapproval — “Carm, please, need to-”

“You can hold a little longer, princess” he coos, his grip on your throat almost making you stop breathing completely. Fuck. Your vision becomes dizzy, and for Carmen, the view is nothing but pure delight in front of him. Your shirt raised over your stomach, you pretty little face all disorted thanks to the thrill, parted legs just to give him more space to work with, fighting for some air. He’s so damn greedy about it, knowing he’s the only person who can get you like that. “Hm, stop squeezing me like that baby.”

He chuckles lightly, your hands gripping into the edge of the counter, raising one leg over the table as you try to do what you’re told, to please him every single time. He’s torturing you, and you cannot blame him cause you made him like that, just like he spoiled you with food. All those times whimpering in his bedsheets, asking all shy if he can choke you while pounding into your cunt, cheeks red while riding him, whispering things about how thick he feels inside, how he’s stretching you out so nicely, made him confident enough to know exactly what you like.

Carmen Berzatto is a caring boyfriend after all.

“S’okay, sweetheart” he says moments after, placing soft kisses on your face, your skin glimmering against the lights of your kitchen, a light layer of sweat as you closed your eyes tightly — “Cum baby, let me feel you” he talks you through it, words coming to his mouth so easily now, the sound of his tone so raspy it makes you arch your back as you finally let yourself go, riding the orgasm and making it last as long as you can, your own pleasure being your only priority as his digits bury themselves in your cunt, pressing against your neck to make it more difficult for you, to fill your eyes with tears as you loudly moan his name.

He holds you place, the mess he made out of you in such short time, eyes following the way your body shakes in the glimpse of ecstasy, fingers still pumping inside you but at a much slower pace, knowing you’d be sensitive now, lips swollen, messy hair and ruined mascara.

“Willing to admit now i’m right?” he ask in a low voice, letting you breathe as he was still afected by you — “That it doesn’t need any more salt, smartass?”

You hum in response, chuckling at his stubborn remark, your hands gripping into his arm just to dig your nails in his tattooed skin, almost begging him to let you breathe a second.

“Get up,” he says, not harshly enough to be a command, but instead, a plea. “Bend over the counter baby. M’not done with you yet.”

And even being so sensitive, you cannot help but comply, looking at your boyfriend through half-lidded eyes cause yeah, he made you a spoiled brat in terms of food, but you have definitely broke something else when it came to the intimacy he was now into.

Or maybe you just loved being his main critique.

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Reign Down on Me - Part 10

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes

A/N: sorry this took so long, but i hope y'all enjoy! Can't wait to hear what you think of it 💕

-🐺-

“Gaz.”

You pretended to still be watching the TV while you called on the sergeant. Up till that point he’d been scrolling mindlessly on his phone, but out of the corner of your eyes you could see him look up. Meanwhile the couple that had been on the screen were still locked in a passionate embrace - giving you a perfect excuse for your question. 

“You’ve had like…girlfriends or boyfriends or whatever while you’ve been serving, right?”

At first he snorted. 

Finally you turned around and met his gaze properly, steeling yourself against the grin that was threatening to break out on his face. He quirked his lips for a moment while his eyes remained fixed on you, alight and shining at the idea of you wanting to talk about relationships. It froze you in place for a moment, tense at the idea he’d see right through your reason for asking or had overheard you and Rudy talking throughout the week. 

“I have. Why you askin’?” He finally said, actually turning his body fully into the conversation. 

“I just wondered if it was difficult. You know - to maintain a relationship.” 

“It’s not easy. Our jobs make us unreliable, not present - even if we’re in the same place sometimes, tired, grumpy. I reckon my exes could write a book with things to moan about,” he laughed. “To be fair though I could’ve tried harder with em. I think I’m just a bit too deep in the job right now to make something properly work outside of all this, you know?”

“So none of them were other soldiers then?” You asked, tilting your head. 

“Nah. That’d be a fuckin nightmare! Imagine trying to find time for each other while you’ve got two different fucked schedules, then there’s having to make sure you’re not in the same units so you don’t get hit with punishments for fraternisation and all that shit.”

You instantly turned away and nodded, zoning back in on the TV again. The couple were trading sly smiles while they passed by each other at work, the fuzzy music played softly and sent your ears flicking at the sound. It was your hope that the subject would be dropped then, but even you weren’t stupid enough to think that would be that. 

“Why the sudden interest in relationships then?” Gaz asked, leaning his arm against the couch and propping his head on his hand. 

It didn’t matter how much you pretended to love whatever the show was, or how far forward you sat, you couldn’t evade Gaz’s sites. He was there in the corner of your eyes, filling the space like a prowling jungle cat. The only way you were getting out was through the conversation. 

“Well…I’ve never really been in a relationship or had the chance to be in one. None of us hybrids really got on that well at Branhaven and I sure as shit wasn’t gonna shack up with any of the handlers. Now that I live with you guys though, I thought maybe I’d have a shot at having…something someday,” you said quietly, giving him a brief glance back.

“And I’ve just shat all over your parade,” Gaz said, raising his eyebrows. 

“Pretty much,” you answered with a faux huff. “Dick.”

Gaz’s breathy laugh brushed past your ears. It forced you to turn back to him fully, so that you could properly behold the soft brown hues of his creasing eyes. Even in the dingy space that made up the los vaqueros rec room, his eyes were so warm. 

“Have you really never been with anyone?” He asked, letting a hint of a frown settle on his face. 

“Nope,” you shrugged. 

“Ever kissed anyone?”

“Hm…does kissing someone on the cheek in nursery count?”

“Hell no,” Gaz laughed. “Who were you kissing in nursery anyway you little Casanova?”

“His name was Shawn. His family was moving away and he was the only other hybrid in my class, so he was the only one I really played with. We both gave each other a kiss on the cheek goodbye. I was far from a ‘Casanova’,” you said indignantly, already crossing your arms in protest. 

“I’m sure it was very sweet, but that’s definitely not a real kiss,” he shrugged.

“Didn’t realise you were the arbiter of kisses.”

“I don’t need to be the arbiter to say you gotta do it like them,” he said, signalling at the lovers on the TV, “to have it really count.”

“Well shit, I’ve never had that happen at my job.”

The couple were now fucking quite ferociously in the supply cupboard at their work. Paper and trays were flying and shelves were being rocked, but nevertheless they faced no interruption despite the storm they were creating. Even just breathing as heavily as they were would’ve had them kicked out in real life, you thought. 

“So you’ve never fucked anyone either then? You’re like a full proper virgin, apart from your Shawn love affair of course.”

You rolled your eyes at him. 

“Didn’t say that,” you shrugged.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?”

“You shagged someone, but you never kissed?”

“It wasn’t like we were doing it because we really liked each other,” you supplied. “We both just agreed we’d scratch a mutual itch and go our separate ways after.”

It went almost exactly as clinically as how it sounded too. Even thinking back to that night where you’d both snuck off to the bathroom together, you could only remember the giddy joy you felt at actually getting off with someone else instead of feeling anything for the other hybrid. Which was a good thing too because it wasn’t like you’d ever seen him afterward. You’d never been sent back to Norway again. 

He’d shucked off his clothes and told you to do the same, confirming you still wanted to do it. He’d so nicely asked “you still want to fuck, yes?” And barely said a word more, only a few “harder”s or “no, like this”. You’d both been pressed up against that cold concrete corner, hands grasping through the dark, and trembling bodies quietly drinking in each others attentions while making sure to stay as quiet as possible in fear of waking up your superiors. He’d been more experienced, so he’d gotten you off first and then he finished, only taking a moment's breath before wiping himself off and putting his clothes back on. He’d left you alone to collect yourself soon after. 

“Well that shouldn’t count either,” Gaz said, after you’d given him an overview of your experience. 

“What? But we actually did it! We both came and everything.”

“Came and then went! Sounds shite,” Gaz groaned. “Shaggin’s meant to be fun. Not just ticking each others boxes and then walking off.” 

“Damn, you’re really not letting me have anything here,” you smirked, refolding your arms again. 

“Because you’re supposed to really want it off the person you’re with, like be able to kiss them and talk and laugh and stuff. If I’d had someone bark instructions at me and then leave me straight after I’d feel like it was part of our job or something.”

“Almost my whole life’s been this job, it’s not like I ever thought I’d get anything like you’ve probably had. When I finally got old enough to even have sex I’d already been working for years. Sex like that is the only way I get to get off with someone,” you explained, trailing off a little at the end when you thought back to Rudy revealing more about he and Alejandro. 

So what you were saying wasn’t strictly true. However it wasn’t like you were going to reveal to Gaz that you’d been picturing you and various match ups in the 141 to a degree where you were struggling to concentrate at least daily now. Every interaction with Price and Gaz had felt charged with a thousand volts of electricity where it hadn’t necessarily been before. 

Price could be shifting you out the way while he walked by you, putting his hand against your back and you’d practically melt into it. Gaz had ruffled your hair condescendingly after you’d gotten the all clear for your hip from the doctor and your scalp had tingled for the rest of the day after. Then there was the phone call you’d had with Ghost…hearing his voice rumbling down the line made your stomach do weird little flips and had your tail wagging the whole time even while he was chastising you for losing control. 

You blamed it all squarely on big stupid Rudy. Rudy who had been training with you on the matts the day before, targeting your sore hip the whole time while divulging little details of he and Alejandro’s relationship.

He’d told you about how they grew up together on the same street. Trained together. Fought together. One day Rudy had almost been killed, trying to protect Alejandro so fiercely he’d jumped in front of a bullet for him. Then after he’d had his shoulder patched up, he’d apparently gotten tired of Alejandro’s lecturing and found a creative way to shut him up. 

When Rudy had suggested you try something similar with your team, now that you were constantly getting heat for your injury, you’d gotten as hot as a lava rock before tumbling off the edge of the matt. Your distraction had been fully taken advantage of by your smarmy wise-ass opponent who’d decided to throw you from the fight. 

“So now that you’re with us, you think you’ll be able to find someone to fuck you properly then?” Gaz asked, pulling you back into the room so hard you were left blinking back at him without response. 

You tried to respond to that with anything other than a high pitched whine. Though you decided to stay silent when you realised that was impossible. 

“Jesus, your face. You’re getting all embarrassed just at the thought. You’re such a virgin.”

“I am not embarrassed! And I’m not a virgin!”

“Yeah you are, you’re doing that thing with your ears!” Gaz grinned. 

“What thing with my ears?” You whined.

“They always go lopsided when you’re embarrassed, one always points up and the other one folds back all awkwardly. Juuust like that,” Gaz said, quickly snapping a picture with his phone. 

“Hey!”

Gaz turned the phone so that you could see. The ear situation was exactly as he described, while your mouth slanted into a displeasured frown and your eyes were set hard into the screen. 

You smacked his phone from his hand so that it landed on the couch. From there you used the opportunity to snatch it up, quickly scrabbling against the old material to prize it up. Just before you could delete it however Gaz dove on top of you, easily overpowering you and prying the phone from your clawing hands. Your back was pressed flat onto the couch cushions, your body straining as his full weight sat on top of you, angled so that he could fend of your legs with his body, hold back your hands with one arm and use his one free hand to secure his phone. 

“Gaz, get off! I’ll bite you!” You protested, voice going squeaky as he kept you pinned underneath him. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” he laughed, holding his phone high above your head. “Price would go mental at you.”

“What are you doing?” You huffed, almost getting a bit of leverage over his forearm until he shunted it back fully into place and squashed your arms in the process.

“Taking some lovely pictures for Ghost. The man’s been desperate for  updates while we’ve been away, you know,” Gaz said, clearly typing something while he still fended you off. 

“Don’t send him pictures! Ah, Gaz! That’s it, I’m going nuclear.” 

You flung your head up and licked all down the length of his arm, slobbering down the full bulk of it and sending him recoiling. A satisfied grin lit your face when his phone fell down the back of the cushions. You then twisted your body, managing to use the nasty surprise and the momentum so that you could reverse the position, landing on top of him while he was squashed to the couch. Though you almost faltered when you saw him below you, you still kept a good drip. You managed to hold him there a moment, looking down at him with all your mixed feelings twisting their way through your gut. 

“That’s fighting dirty, Pup,” Gaz huffed, not bothering to struggle now that you were on top.

Both of you breathed heavily, you could feel Gaz’s heartbeat rattling quickly below you. It was pounding heavily against your legs from where you sat above him. Your own heartbeat hammered erratically, growing more wild at the compromised position. 

“I’m a hybrid! I need the element of surprise to have the upper hand,” you said, trying desperately to keep to the topic at hand. 

“Colour me surprised then.”

“And me. What the fuck are you two playing at then, eh?”

Both you and Gaz whipped your heads round at the same time, meeting the irate eyes of Price. You felt your ears lower immediately and clambered off of Gaz, awkwardly looking away while you fixed yourself. Gaz’s smile had dropped, but he didn’t worry about looking sorry. He flipped himself up and tilted his head. 

“Nothin’, just messing around. What’s up, Cap?” 

“I’ll thank you both to not get yourselves injured doing anything stupid, please,” he said sternly.

“Sorry, Sir,” you mumbled, ears still laying flat against your head. 

“None of that,” Price grunted. “I need to send you both off today. I’ve got some contacts I’m going to get in touch with, but I trust that you two can manage some reconnaissance without me. That alright?”

“Course, Sir,” Gaz answered.

You nodded along with him. 

“Good. Go get something to eat and get ready to head out.”

“Is it just the two of us going?” Gaz asked. 

“No. Your company is waiting in the canteen for you,” he said, a sly smile beginning to form across his lips. 

Immediately you got a sense that you were going to like the group you were going out with. Your tail twitched and your ears perked up, Gaz and Price couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction. Though when you shot Price a look to confirm your suspicions he leaned back and sobered, nodding his head at you as if to answer your question. 

It’s him. You thought. 

You raced up from the couch and away from the booming laughter, who’s echoes followed you down the hallway. After bolting like a wild stallion and flying past multiple shocked people you burst into the little canteen and looked around slowly until your eyes zeroed in on your target. 

It didn’t take long for you to find the black balaclava, the familiar scarred mouth below revealed so that he could eat the steaming rice and vegetables on his plate. His big body was angled away from you, talking to his mohawked companion and blissfully unaware of the presence about to attack him. 

“Ghost,” You whispered to yourself. 

You couldn’t hold yourself back. As conscious as you felt of all the other people spread throughout the room, you weren’t able to let them stop you from running up to Ghost and wrapping your arms around him and whining.  

“I’m gonna assume that’s you, Pup. Otherwise Rudy’s gotten awfully sweet on me.”

Hearing the low timbre of his voice was enough to get your tail into a frenzy. He was really there and you were getting to hug him. Even better - he soon stood up and brought you round to his front so that you could snuggle up under his chin. His scent filled your whole body, your lungs burned with him. 

“You’re here,” you sighed, adjusting into the bulk of him. 

“Jeez, I’m feelin a bit left out, Pup. I’m here too,” Soap said from behind you. 

“You don't appreciate my hugs, MacTavish.”

“Says who?” Soap said, a smile evident in his voice. “Get over here, you wee shite.”

He grabbed you then, forcing you from Ghost and wrapping his big stupid barrel arms around your body. Even while being crushed you had to admit that you loved the attention. It also meant you got to face Ghost, even if you had a silly grin plastered all over your face and a wag in your tail that wouldn’t leave. Nothing got you more excited than seeing the coy smile he wore just for you. 

“Missed you too, Pup,” Ghost said, angling his head toward your tail. 

“Really?”

“Mhmm,” he murmured, his voice silky smooth in your ears. “Been lonely walking around without my little shadow.”

“Then you should’ve come sooner,” you huffed, finally breaking free of Soap’s arms. 

Soap flashed you a cheeky smile, his eyes glimmering brightly at you as if all his past fears had been allayed. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder, huh. Though you didn’t get to dwell on that for long.

Soon enough you were yanked back onto Ghost by the collar, forced to sit astride his massive lap and face him directly in the eyes. The fact the top half of his balaclava was still secured only made his stare more intense, the bright pools of his eyes practically spitting off heat they focused so hard. No matter how hard you scrabbled against him, he kept you like that, pinned onto him with no other choice but to face him down. 

“You shouldn’t have taken yourself off to the kennels, naughty Pup,” Ghost said lowly, breath hot on your cheek. “The reason I wasn’t here sooner was because I was busy undoing Price’s mess these past few days. You don’t ever make decisions like that without me there again. You’re my responsibility, mine to look after - not Price’s, not Gaz’s, not anyone else's. Do you understand?”

Your mouth went dry, you were still actively squirming in place. You didn’t understand the sudden shift in his demeanour. He’d never treated you like that before. He’d never grabbed you or spoken to you with such a menacing tone. Nevertheless it felt like he was holding your collar like he was about to stick a gun to your head.

Your ears had flattened and your tail had calmed, nervously twitching as it dangled to the ground. After taking a nervous gulp, you nodded. Mood thoroughly soured.

“I just thought it’d be better if I got it over with… Price tried so many ways to get me out, I thought they’d make it worse if I fought it.”

“Yeah? Well I've Sorted it now, I was never gonna leave you in that little prick’s care so that he could hurt you and do whatever he wanted just to prove a point. This,” he said, jingling your handler tag, “means that I have a duty to you, and you have a duty to me. We look out for each other - we’re legally bound together for as long as we live. Part of that means that you don’t go off taking orders from whoever slings their rank around. Okay? Don’t put yourself in a position to get hurt just because you’re used to assuming that’s the right thing to do.”

“Ok,” you said meekly, nodding hard despite the grip Ghost still had on your tag. 

He huffed out a breath, finally exhaling after his tirade and releasing you. All the heat in his eyes died and suddenly they were back to crinkling jewels. You had to blink back at them just to know that you weren’t seeing things. He’d looked so angry…no,that wasn’t really it, was it? He was hurt, annoyed maybe. The way he’d been speaking was desperate, in only the way Ghost could sound desperate. Making sure that his point hammered home. 

Your shoulders sagged and you let your ears cautiously spring to a neutral position, finally summoning the courage to look away from him. The noise of all the other diners floated back to you, forcing you to look around to see if anyone had paid much attention to your scolding. Apparently not, Ghost had been quiet enough so as not to attract much attention beyond a few stray stares. 

“Hey,” Soap said, reminding you that he was still sitting across from you. “You know he’s only getting on at you because he was running around like a mother goose tryna keep you from those wankers in 104.”

You turned to him, grateful for an excuse for someone else to look at. Even while remaining heavy hearted at upsetting, his words had perked you up a little. You could feel your ears raise a little more above your head. 

“Mother goose?” you repeated back, a smile rising on your lips.

“Oh yeah, he was flapping around like crazy. Giving it ‘If anything happens to Pup, I’ll shoot the fucker responsible. I don’t care if its just a hair out of place, mark my words, Johnny. They’ll be bloody unidentifiable!’,” Soap said, doing one of his dreadful Ghost impressions. 

It made you laugh if nothing else. Ghost groaned from behind you, but pulled you further into him, and further into his scent. You breathed him in and sighed, nuzzling underneath his chin and into your favourite spot. Even if he had just told you off like a bad dog, you couldn’t hold it against him. All that mattered was that you were back together again and he had somehow managed to solve your little situation. 

Which did make you wonder…how the hell did he manage to pull that off? And how lastingly mad was Ghost going to be. 

“Ghost?” you mumbled into his collarbone.

“Mm?”

“How long are you going to be angry with me?”

Most important question comes first naturally. 

“I’m not angry with you. I just needed to get my point across. Somehow I’ve got to look after you, but you make it really bloody difficult when you’re always off flying into trouble,” he grunted. “First I’ve got to deal with the kennel debacle and then I’m getting a call from Price telling me you got yourself shot. Feel like I’ve hardly had a minute to breathe with everything going on.”

“Not to mention you’ve got that fuckin’ parade thing to look forward to now,” Soap snorted, pointing his fork in Ghost’s direction.

“Parade thing? What?” 

Ghost was about to explain, but Gaz and Price turned up before he could open his mouth. Gaz took his place next to Soap, setting his tray down on the table before bumping his shoulder. Price sat between you all and smiled to himself when he saw you curled into your handler. He handed you a tray of steaming hot chicken and rice after he’d set his own in front of him. 

“Happy now?” Price asked. 

“Mm, almost,” you dead panned. “Apparently Ghost has to go marching off to some parade though.”

“That’s a negative. We have to go marching off to the parade and demonstration day, Pup. Both of us.”

Your ears dropped back again and you drew back from Ghost’s side just so that you could eye him directly. What did he just say? You couldn’t work out why on earth anyone would want you in a military parade. Your tail was broken. You were awful at drilling. How on earth was this going to work? 

“Uh…say what now?”

“Time to polish up your dancin’ shoes, sparky,” Soap grinned. “Face left! Forward! Stop! Find your center!” 

Soap’s drill sergeant impression, complete with leg movements, landed like a lead balloon. Gaz elbowing him did very little to relieve its weight. You breathed out a bone weary sigh and collapsed against Ghost. 

“Just leave me in the kennels to rot.”

“Now, now, Pup. That’s not the attitude,” Ghost chuckled. “Where’s my - ‘oh thank you Ghost, you’re my hero’ speech?”

“I musta left it behind in my non-parade trousers,” you glowered. 

Price laughed a rich laugh, luckily just in-between eating. The others all sported smiles that did nothing to make up for the annoyance that was plastered all over your face. 

“What’s the big deal? All you gotta do is a little frog marching and a bit of demo on how you work?” Gaz said, trying to reassure you. 

“The ‘big deal’ is that I don’t wanna be a spectacle for the general public to gawk at,” you said sourly. “Ive seen parades, because I’m usually too beat up to be called into them mind you, and they suck for hybrids! We have to dress up all fancy in those silly little harnesses and dumb berets and then we get dragged around like animals on stupid gold rope leashes. Then as if that’s not embarrassing enough they’re gonna make me growl and bark in front of everyone to show off the ‘fearlessness of our fair British troupe in the face of agression’ - no thanks.”

“I hate the growlin’ thing,” Soap muttered, sticking a forkful of chicken in his mouth.

“Well it’s still better than getting beat up by the 104 for a week, Pup,” Price said, directing his fork toward you. 

“You say that, but i bet if you were in my shoes and after doing all that drilling had a bunch of stinking civvy kids tryna touch your tail and their dumb parents tryna ruffle your ears - you’d say something different.”

“I won’t let anyone touch you, Pup. I promise,” Ghost soothed. “We just need to get through the day and then I’ll get us out of there.” 

“And how are you even gonna be in the parade when you can’t show your face?” You asked, throwing up your hands at his balaclava. 

“They’re permitting me a neck gaiter.”

“You allowed to wear a skull one?” Soap asked, his lips curling into a bemused smile

“Unfortunately not, I was told it had to be plain,” Ghost shrugged. 

“Of course you asked,” you said, rollling your eyes but smiling despite everything. 

“Well it’s only down to me asking that got you this replacement gig in the first place,” Ghost reminded you before shunting you onto a spare seat. “Now eat your lunch and stop your whining. If I have to hear anymore complaints I’ll make you wear a muzzle. I’ll find a pink sparkly one with charms on it and all.” 

You folded your ears back at that, mouth gaping at the threat. He wouldn’t dare! Or would he? You looked between him and Price and huffed when they gave nothing away behind their serious expressions. 

Only when you started shovelling food in your mouth did they both start laughing and shaking their heads between each other. It made your cheeks burn, but you kept quiet and busied yourself with the delicious canteen food that you were sure to miss on your return home. It was better to focus on that than earning yourself a telling off for glaring at your superiors over your plate. 

“I’m surprised they let you off with a little parade instead of sacrificing Pup for the week,” Gaz said thoughtfully. “Who’d you have to go asking to get that kind of trade off, LT?”

“Well it wasn’t just the parade, I was supposed to go apologise to the father and do a little grovelling too.” 

“And how’d you worm your way out of that one, ay?” Price asked, already groaning before hearing the answer. 

“Who said I wormed out?”

“You said ‘supposed to’ Ghost.”

“Well you see, Captain - the benefit of never showing my face is that no one really has any way of telling that it’s really me when I ‘reveal’ myself,” Ghost said smoothly, a smile apparent in his voice alone. “Ergo, doesn’t necessarily need to be me that turns up to apologise.”

“Oh, you bastard,” Price chuckled. “I’m not covering for you if they work out what you did.”

“No need, I got a message to say it’s all handled.”

-🐺-

The light was just starting to drain from the land, the orange glow of the sun smattered the ground with withdrawing tendrils of light. They washed across the pale dirt, stroking it with their warmth before retreating somewhere behind the darkness. Slowly and then all at once the sky went from orange to black. 

“I assume you’re excited to go home now that you’re not going back to the kennels,” Rudy said, breaking the easy silence that had fallen between you. 

You nodded an answer, but didn’t say anything back. 

The other hybrid had been relatively quiet since you’d arrived, apart from asking what the news was from Soap and Ghost, he hadn’t said much else. He’d instead made a point of exaggerating just how tired he’d been from the night before, only showing you the hickey that flamed up around his collar bone as he yawned and stretched. 

He’d been sleeping for most of the rest of the journey to the watch point. After being out and actively looking for the target for a few hours however, the two of you had gotten more restless, fidgeting and shifting how you sat every few minutes. 

Still, you kept your eyes across the horizon and your ears pinned forward. You didn’t want to mess up anything else after everything you’d been called out for so much already. You were especially aware of the fact that Ghost and Soap were only a few meters from you both as well. This was the last situation you wanted Rudy baiting you in. 

“You ever been in a parade before?”

“No,” you answered, shifting the leg you were sitting on and flicking your eyes out over the ground. 

“They’re not too bad. The ones here anyway, you do a little showing off and then you get some free food..” 

“Do they make you guys walk on a harness and bark at the men too?” You asked dryly. 

Rudy threw his head back and laughed. The sound caused a small smile to break out on your face and you shook your head at him for the disturbance. Nevertheless the smile stayed on your face while you continued to keep watch. 

“You British hybrids have to put up with a lot, hm?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” you said sourly. 

“I know enough…” Rudy replied, seemingly trailing off as he spoke. 

You looked away from the spot you’d been boring a hole into with your eyes only to glance at Rudy’s face. It took on that serious hard look again, his lips stony and his eyes cast far away. 

“You’ve worked with a lot of us then?”

“A decent amount.”

“Take it you’ve not met anyone half as charming as me, yknow - since you were all grumpy about working with me the first time.” 

He snorted at that.

“None of them have been anything like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You have some life about you, it’s a good thing,” you saw him shrugging in your peripherals. “Most of them are quiet, angsty. Half of them look like they’re glad to die when their superiors send them off just to protect themselves. The other half just seem dead already.”

His words stole anymore words from coming to your lips. You knew exactly what he meant - that used to be you after all. The old you would never have done anything like you’d done on your last mission for any of your previous superiors, would never have let the beast inside you rage. You had to be clear enough to protect yourself. You spited them too much to be willfully suicidal, you’d rather see them die instead of you. 

Now that had all changed. Ghost had only just reprimanded you because you put yourself in harms way, but even still you knew you’d rather die for any of your team than have them go instead. With that thought in mind, your back prickled with a chill that shivered through your whole nervous system. 

“You don’t have to tear yourself apart just to be a good soldier, Pup. I hope being with the 141 for any amount of time has taught you that all that doesn’t even matter. We get to have lives too, you know? Get your job done and keep yourself and your boys alive, fight so that you get to come home and actually live. Find out what makes you happy and do things that you like because there’s so many of us hybrids that are used like bullets and so many humans that are so happy to discard us once we’ve hit our targets. Fuck anyone that tells you you’re disposable. We have just as much right to be here as anyone - remember that.” 

You blinked back at him. A faint buzzing rang through your ears, a shrill little hum that tried to force tears from your eyes while it snatched at your heart. A low growl threatened to loose from your throat, bark at the enemy, fend off those pesky emotions. 

No, he wasn’t attacking you. He was just speaking the truth. 

“Do you wanna take over as my therapist?” You muttered, having to clear the lump from your throat before you could spit even a word out. 

He laughed wryly at that and muttered something under his breath.  “I’m just saying… you could’ve ended up like anyone else you got trained up with, but you didn’t. Don’t waste your new life stuck on what things were like. Make something good out of it.”

[mywritersmind]

CAT PARENTS - LN

pt.2

summary : A kitten is all it takes to get two strangers in the same bed for the night. Lando likes how she doesn’t know him, Olivia likes the cat that he’s trying to take from her.

warning : Just Lando, Olivia, and Juna being adorable (again) !

word count : 1459

⋆ ˚‧｡⋆

I’m in Landos clothes in the bathroom thirty minutes later. I had the best shower of my life, wiping away my club stink and snuggling into baggy sweats and a McLaren shirt.

I hype myself up in the mirror, there’s very few occasions where i’ve stayed over at a man’s house. All of those have been after sex. I am not going to have sex with Lando. It’s a weird learning curve but I was the one who wanted me to stay more.

He lets out a laugh when I walk out, slapping his hand back over his mouth he says, “I didn’t mean to laugh!”

I smile and spin around, “That’s fine. I mean… I do look sort of ridiculous.” his clothes do not fit me by any means…

He shakes his head, playing with Juna who is chasing a feather attached to a stick, “No, you look good.” His voice is a bit raspy, sounds tired.

This should not have an effect on me but the butterfly’s are definitely there.

“So Olivia.” he uses my real name, “If you don’t like F1, what sports do you like?”

I smile and sit next to him, “Soccer mostly.”

He side eyes me, “Football?”

I eye him right back, “Soccer.”

He smiles, happy with our disagreement, “Why not Formula?”

I sigh and shrug, “Sort of rough on an Americans sleep schedule. My dad loves it actually! But when I got to college I never got back into it.”

“That’s good.”

“What, that I never got back into it?” I look at him playing with Juna, a rouge curl falling into his face.

“No. You said your dad loves it. That’ll mean he likes me.” There go those damn butterfly’s, “Unless he doesn’t like McLaren.”

I smile to myself, “He’s a ferrari fan.”

He sighs, “Ah… might have to win his trust then.” I should not be thinking about how much my dad would like Lando.

I lean back against my arms, “And what makes you so sure you’re going to meet him?

He smiles softly back at me, “We have a child together now.” He grabs Juna and brings her close to his face. Something about him and this cat is just melting my heart.

“Right.” I smile and pet under her chin, “Lovely. We’re stuck together forever, I guess.”

His blue eyes meet mine, “I guess.”

____

“Oh my-” I take a bite of my burger that Lando and I ordered. The burger was the first thing ordered, followed by fries, two milkshakes, chicken tenders, more fries, chips, and onion rings.

Lando laughs at my groaning as he nibbles on his chicken, “Like it?”

“It even tastes rich.” I shake my head, “Wanna try?” I don’t know why I say it. I hate sharing my food, I won’t even share my water with my best friend.

He shakes his head, “Nah i’m sort of… picky.”

“Suit yourself.” I shrug and keep eating.

“Back to our game?” He asks, biting into a fry. I nod as he starts, “Favorite color?”

“Blue, Navy.” Although his eyes could be changing my mind on the navy part. “Favorite holiday?”

“Christmas. It’s always during winter break, obviously. So I get all the time I want with my family.”

“That’s really sweet.” I sip my milkshake, “Is it hard, being away all the time? Even if you do love it.”

“Not your turn yet.” He raises a brow, “What’s your favorite memory from your childhood?”

“Hm… I wasn’t exactly a child, But still. I was seventeen and had just got out of a horrible relationship.” he frowns at this, “Don’t worry I poured coffee on him- anyway my friends and I drove to the beach, absolutely blasting Taylor Swift, and we just swam in our clothes.” I shrug, “It was like midnight.”

He smiles as I tell the story, “It’s so cool you grew up by the beach.” thank you cali.

“Answer my question now, please.”

He sighs, “It’s hard. My sister has a kid so I wish I was with her a lot… but honestly my parents can make it to a lot of races and it’s not like I have a girlfriend to worry about.” I laugh at this.

I try to sound casual, “I’m assuming you have in the past?”

“Yes…” he says suspiciously, “but it’s tough. What about you, got anyone special?”

“Definitely not. Broke up with my college boyfriend a while ago…” Why am I telling him this?

He whistles, “How old are you?”

“Twenty three.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“I’m twenty four.”

“That is good.” I laugh and he laughs with me, “You’re young.” I say.

He shakes his head, “So are you. I forget sometimes.”

“That you’re young?”

He shrugs and wipes his hands on a napkin, “Being a driver doesn’t exactly scream ‘first job!’”

“I never really thought about that. My first job was a wedding calligrapher though.” He laughs, “I’m serious!”

“I believe you! It’s just… random.”

“You’re random.” I roll my eyes as if that was any insult.

I hear scraping and see Juna join us on the bed the next second, I laugh at the tiny kitten climbing up the bed. She walks right on top of Lando, up his arm and on his neck.

“She likes me!” He whisper yells. I lay my head on the pillow, getting tired after my day.

“She has good reason to.” I say as I yawn, closing my eyes.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now, Livvy.”

“I’m not…”

____

LANDO NORRIS

She fell asleep. I look at the clock, 2:23am. I set Juna down but she keeps trying to get my attention as I clean up our food.

I’ve enjoyed this far too much. I like her company.

This girl i’ve just met. I barely know her!

Yet I feel like I've known her for years.

I shouldn’t get attached. I don’t easily. But with Olivia it feels like I've known her since I was in school.

That could be the late hours talking though. But still, we’ve been talking for hours. With this bloody cat who I've fallen completely in love with.

“Norris.” I hear her whisper.

“Yes, love?” I let it slip by accident.

“Juna peed on the couch.” she pats the bed, “Come on.”

I thank god because my back would be fucked if I slept on the floor and my trainer would not be happy. I switch the lights off and climb in next to her, Juna in between us.

“Night, love.” She whispers before promptly falling asleep.

____

OLIVIA WREN

I wake up to an arm around me and a man standing above me. I scream.

“Fuck!” Lando pulls his arm away immediately, opening his eyes quickly and looking at the man in screaming at, “Max!” he groans, “You didn’t have to scare her!”

“Sorry.” He crosses his arms, “I’m Max.”

“Hi?” I try to slow my heart rate, “God! You scared me!” I look back up at him, Lando mentioned the childhood friend but I didn’t think I’d meet him so soon.

“Sorry again. Lando scared me first! Bloke can’t figure out how to use his phone!” Max throws his phone at Lando who dodges it. I’m still trying to recall why I'm here and what is happening.

Juna reminds me when she trots over and plants herself on my lap. “I thought you’d been killed or something!” Max yells at Lando whose face is still in the pillow.

I’m suddenly very self conscious about being in this bed. Max seems to notice and shakes his head, “Well now that I know you’re alive… Plane takes off in an hour.”

____

He’s packed in fifteen minutes. Why couldn’t he be a slower packer?

We’re quiet up until the elevator exit, “Juna is still half mine.” He says suddenly, the blue skies coming into view as we walk outside.

“Okay?”

“So don’t forget me, or anything.” He says, looking away from me.

The corner of my mouth lifts, “No chance.” Putting his bags down, he slides my phone out of my pocket and into his hand.

“My number.” He says before handing me my phone back, “Use it all you want.”

“Oh I should be so greatful.” I say it sarcastically but honestly, I am.

He nods, a small smile still gracing his face, “Be safe, alright? Don’t go home with any more strangers.”

My grip on Juna’s carrier tightens, “We’ll see.”

He says goodbye to Juna, sticking his finger through the wire and petting her. He stands up straight, taking his things as the valet brings his car.

“Good luck.” I say quickly, he looks almost surprised. “In your race. Maybe I’ll watch.”

His surprise turns into kindness, leaning down a bit, he places his lips softly on my cheek, “Don’t scream my name too loud, love.”

I blush as he steps back, I wave. He gets into his car and looks back through the slight tint, smiling.

note : should i do a pt.3??

[buuniebaby]

your first time with hamzah 🙈🙈

THERE’S A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING. 🎀

includes: losing your virginity, awkward sex talk, very sweet sex ! 💝

word count 3.2k purr

you’re too tired for this.

you and hamzah are becoming sleep deprived, something you usually do together: come over to each others houses, watch a movie, eat food your stomach will regret in the morning. it’s been a tradition since you guys were just friends.

even now as you’re dating, it still feels.. the same. not that you’re complaining; you love having a partner who’s also a best friend to you. it just feels like there should be some sort of change, but you can’t put your finger on it.

it’s 2 in the morning now. you and hamzah have watched about 3 shitty 2000s movies, enjoying every moment of each one. your brain feels absolutely fried, and you can only imagine his is as well.

“are you a virgin?” hamzah spoke suddenly, but also casually. a little too casually. you choke on your own spit at that, face turning red with embarrassment.

“…what?” is all you can reply back. “what- why?” you say, eyebrows furrowing at him. your voice has noticeably pitched up.

“i dunno. just tell me.” hamzah says, rolling his eyes. you hate how confident and sassy he is, but you’re also sort of attracted to it.

“you’re so weird.” you practically squeal, jokingly. you grab onto a pillow as you fall back first onto the bed. “why do you even wanna know? that’s so like, random.” you ask, more genuine this time.

“i guess,” hamzah starts, but then pauses, almost as if he doesn’t know the answer himself.

“i was just kinda thinking. like, we don’t really talk about sex, ever. and we don’t have to- I don’t wanna bring it up if you’re uncomfortable. I’m just like, curious if you’d be down to talk about it.” he rambles, making up his words as he goes. you furrow your brows as he speaks, still kind of confused. you know there had to be something that started it, you just aren’t sure what.

“oh. well like,” you flush, sort of embarrassed to admit what you’re about to say. “yeah, i am.”

“a virgin?” hamzah asks, head tilting like a lost puppy.

“yes, idiot. what else would i be talking about?” you reply back sarcastically.

“you’re right, you’re right,” he banters with you. “I just- I guess I’m surprised.”

you perk back up, sitting yourself upright again.

“surprised.. that im a virgin?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

“i guess.. i dunno. I just feel like you’re like, too pretty to not have found someone who wants you like that.” he rambles. you feel a blush creep onto your cheeks again, knowing he’ll always praise you for your pretty face.

“i mean, I’ve found a lot of people who want me,” you say, rolling your eyes at the thought of a particular ex. “I’m just like, picky, I guess.” your giggling as hamzah somewhat laughs with you, but you watch as his facial expression starts to falter. you know something’s on his mind.

“do you want to?” is all he mutters. again, he keeps this quiet, casual tone that you rarely see with him.

“i mean, yeah, kinda. I just like, don’t know where to start I guess.” you answer honestly. “feels like everyone’s way more experienced than i am anyways.” hamzah turns over to you, looking in the eye. you feel him think for a second, as if he doesn’t know whether he should let his thoughts out or not.

“well, I don’t really have experience either.” he mutters back, scoping for a negative reaction from you. your eyes widen a bit, and he doesn’t know if he should take your body language negatively or positively.

“you’re a virgin too?” you ask, a more shy tone than usual.

“..yeah. well I’ve done like- stuff. just like, never had sex. never had my penis like, in there, y’know-“

“you don’t need to go into detail.” is all you have to say, talking over him.

“-but i would go all the way with you.”

that’s all you remember from that night before blacking out, yet somehow the short memory haunts your mind. it’s eating you up inside, the thought of losing your virginity after so long to him.

you’ve seen all the edits and thirst traps of him online and can admit that they’ve made you feel some type of way about him - hell, you’ve touched yourself to the idea of your boyfriend too. yet for some reason, the thought of actually having sex with him was never really a priority to you. it’s not until now you’ve understood people’s cravings for sex, but god can you feel it now.

you’re making breakfast the next morning while his hands are around your waist and all you can think of is that conversation. when you help him with editing throughout the day, leaning over his shoulder, all you can think about is him having you bent over like that in a different context. you feel like you’re in a haze almost, clouded by the thought of hamzah.

“baby?” hamzah asks, waving a hand in front of your face in an attempt to get your attention. you perk up and face him, slightly embarrassed for spacing out.

“i was just gonna ask if you wanted me to order something for lunch.” he says casually, but his face begins to fade into an expression between concerned and confused. “you okay?”

“what?!” you reply, scrambling at bit as you didn’t think he would pick up on your behavior. “im fine. what do you mean??” you question; rapidly.

“you’ve just been like, really spaced out today. i get like that, where i like dissociate sometimes when something reallyyy bad happens. so i just wanted to make sure.” he rambles a bit, genuine concern in your eyes. despite the horniness driving your body right now, you do feel a bit warmed by the way he cares for you.

“you can always talk to me if something’s up, y’know-“

“did you mean it?” you ask, staring at him blankly.

“mean… what?” he stares back at you, looking at you like you just killed a man in front of him.

“what you said last night. that you’d like- y’know..” you look down shyly, hiding in your hair as a warm blush creeps onto your face.

“that I would..?” hamzah looks at you, genuinely clueless.

“lose it to me hamzah. have sex with me. loose your virginity.” you look up at him, speaking sternly. you’re a little too pent up to take his stupidity today.

you watch as his expression changes, going from confused to something you can’t even put a name on. a mix of shocked, embarrassed, amused - but most prominently, you watch that urge crawl up into his body. you can tell in his eyes that he wants you in the same way you crave him.

“yeah.” he says, breathy. “i want that. like, now though? or like later, what are we doing-“

his words are cut off as your lips land on his. he gasps into the kiss, caught by surprise. you try and swipe your tongue against his slightly parted lips, but he pulls away before you can get it anywhere significant.

you look at him concerned after he pulls away, taking a second to breathe.

“have you like- kissed anyone before?” he asks, and you can tell he’s serious. you giggle a little.

“yes, ive kissed before.” you say, a little smile still formed on your face. “buuut..” you drag on your words to edge him on a bit.

“ive only made out with someone once, and i can already tell you’re the better kisser.” you say, slyly. he likes it when you boost his ego like this - he’s already proud of himself for pulling you, so you make him feel like some sort of greek god.

he smirks before he pulls you into another kiss, this time pressing his lips to yours a lot firmer. it’s more intense this time around, a hand cupping the side of your face, holding you in place for him as his tongue glides inside your mouth.

you kiss until you physically can’t anymore, pulling back when you need a break for air. there’s an awkward silence before he kisses you again, putting his hands on your waist sometimes. you’re taken aback a bit as he lifts you in the air.

your immediate reaction is to hook your legs onto something, hamzah just being the nearest option, of course. your legs wrap around him, straddling his hips. you arms are grabbing onto his shoulders gently. he’s strong enough to hold you without support, but you like the physical aspect of clinging onto him like a koala.

he reaches the room, fumbling with the doorknob as he struggles to lift you at the same time. he kicks the door closed softly behind him when he eventually gets in there. he drops you in the middle of the bed, body landing gracefully.

you sit yourself up into a more comfortable position, and hamzah sits himself right next to you. it’s here when you realize how comfortable you are around him, even if you’re about to reach a life milestone you can never take back with him.

but fuck, you’re never gonna be able to take this back. the anxiety crawls back up into your brain for a second, but the feeling of hamzah’s hand on your thigh relaxes you. a single look into his eyes and you’re already reassuring yourself again. you’re not gonna want to take this back, because god, you love this boy.

“have you ever-“ hamzah pauses mid sentence, stuttering. he does this when he doesn’t know what words to use; it’s one of his mannerisms that you’ve picked up a little yourself over time. “like, felt anyone up? or like- dry hump them, I guess.” he says. you feel him cringe a bit at his own words - he gets embarrassed easily.

“not really,” you say. a smirk creeps onto your face as you have an idea. “but you could show me how.”

hamzah’s eyes widen a bit as his hand moves from your thigh to your waist. he picks you up again like it’s nothing, sitting you down on his lap. his hands massage your waist, moving up briefly past your chest. he runs at your collarbone for a minute, staring at your clothed breasts.

“can i take this off?” he asks in a low voice, toying with the fabric at your shoulders. you bite your lip as you give him a nod, and before you know it whatever garment was covering you before is gone.

“fuckkk,” is all hamzah lets out before a hand is cupping your chest, squeezing at your soft and fleshy skin. instinctively, you push your chest into his hands. you let out a soft noise as he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers.

he’s fully hard now, and you can feel it straining against you. you can tell he’s trying to keep his hips still, not wanting to get worked up too fast.

his hands leave one side of your chest as his mouth attaches to your other nipple. you can’t help but moan at the feeling of him suckling at it. he pulls of for a second, and you can feel his hands fumbling with the fabric of your bottoms for a second.

“take this off for me?” he pleads in a sweet tone, and you can tell he’s starting to get needy. you comply, of course, leaving you in just your underwear. you don’t want to be the only one undressed though, so you shimmy his pants down a bit and get his shirt off too.

you’re left in both just underwear - a weird feeling. there’s not a lot of fabric separating your crotch and hamzah’s, so when he bucks his hips up into yours it feels good. he ducks down to kiss you again, chest pressing to yours, and god, you feel like you’re in heaven. there’s heat burning through your body as your bare skin touched his.

his hands are on your hips as you grind against him, the thin material of his boxers straining against his cock. he reaches down to rub you through your underwear, eliciting a moan as you hide his head in your shoulder.

he stops your grinding for a second, a hand trailing up your thigh. he uses it to spread your legs wide, causing you to make a small noise. he pulls your panties to the side, showing off what he’s wanted all this time.

he’s already settling lower, head balance with your hips, and now you’re nervous. it’s your first time being touched like this - probably his too, and it’s scary. you close your eyes when you feel him plant a kiss on your hip, teasing you. he continues to kiss around, even guiding a hand back up to play with your chest, but it’s not enough.

“please,” you whimper, begging for more stimulation. hamzah takes it as a sign you’re ready, and before you know it, you’re squirming again.

he presses just a single finger inside you, scoping how much you’re able to take. your stomach flips as you feel him spread you open. he adds another finger once the first one is in knuckle deep, then begins to curl them inside of you. you whimper at the feeling as his fingers excel in speed, working you open.

“hamzah- fuck.” you whine, letting out an especially sharp gasp at the feeling of his fingers hitting that spot.

“yeah?” he asks, playfully, curling his fingers to hit the same spot. your pelvis thrusts up at the movement, only motivating him to go further. his hands are so fucking big and he’s so strong when he thrusts his fingers up into you. it burns in the best way possible.

“ah- hamzah!” you squeal, squirming around. you whine when you feel him pull away from him; you were so, so close to finishing. you look up at him and whimper, a sad expression plastered across your face.

“didn’t want you to cum yet,” hamzah mutters under his breath. “not done with you.”

you flush red, his words washing over your body in a hot wave. suddenly hamzah is moving, pulling down his boxers, and god his dick is big. you can’t help but whine at how badly you want it inside you.

“so noisy.” he mumbles, lining his cock up with your folds and sliding the tip between them. you only whine more at his teasing.

“hamzahh,” you complain, eager for him to stop teasing you and just put it in.

“mhm?” he replies, edging you on. he strokes himself a bit, acts as if he’s going to put it in, but then doesn’t. he knows what he’s doing and you hate it. “need something, baby?”

he’s so mean, making you beg.

“I need it so bad, hamzah, pleeasee-“ you beg, desperate. you don’t care how humiliating it is now, you need him.

“need what, baby?” he asks, obviously only to get a reaction out of you. you sigh, but you know what you need to do.

“fuck me, hamzah. i need you - your cock.” you beg, no - demand, firmly.

hamzah doesn’t stall once he’s gotten what he wants. he’s done with the teasing, pressing his tip into you. you let out a shaky moan - it hurts a little when he slides in, like ripping off a bandaid.

“hamzah- hurts.” is all the words you can get out. his hips still inside of you, waiting for you to take a breath before he continues.

“it’s okay baby. gonna feel better once I’m all the way in.” he mutters, caressing your cheek with the hand that isn’t holding him up. he wasn’t lying - it’s painful as he slides himself into you, stretching you out, but once your hip-to-hip with him there’s a comfortable peace to the feeling.

you two lay in that position for a minute, feeling the warmth of connection between your bodies. it’s a soft, loving touch - you feel safe in his arms.

“s’okay if i move now?” he whispers to you, keeping a gentle tone. at the end of the day, he’s here to take care of you.

“yeah. thank you.” you say, genuinely grateful for his patience. you remind yourself that it’s his first time doing this too; you’re not alone in your anxiety.

you clutch onto his shoulders as he nearly pulls out, cock sliding out of you to the tip, then slams back into you.

“h-hamzah!” you whimper, clawing your nails at his back. he keeps a similar pace, thrusting into you deep. even hamzah makes a small noise at the feeling of being inside you, hips stuttering against yours. the sound of skin slapping together and breathy moans fills the room.

you wrap your arms and legs around hamzah as he continues to thrust into you, clinging to him.

“so pretty.” he says, looking down at you. “there’s a reason- fuck- i wanted to fuck you in missionary. pretty face.” he stutters, moving a hand to caress your face. you can’t say anything else but whimper at him, overstimulated from a combination of his thrusts and his words.

you feel a tight feeling build in your stomach, almost like a coil nearing its breaking point. you clench around him, legs beginning to shake.

“aah- hamzah! fuck-“ you practically scream, rolling your hips up into his one last time before you orgasm. he just stares at you, slowing the roll of his own hips, in awe.

you notice as his pace slows after you catch your breath, looking up at him almost disappointed.

“what’re you doing?” you mumble, voice worn out.

“you finished, i don’t wanna-“ he begins to ramble, but you cut him off.

“keep going.” you say firmly.

“huh?”

“want you to cum too.” you say, voice still soft and tired. you roll your hips up into him, still sensitive. he nods, pushing back into you.

he continues to thrust into you rougher and rougher until his hips are slapping against yours with every thrust. every little noise you make turns him on more, until finally, he forces himself to pull out of you.

he strokes himself on top of you, a string of cum landing on your stomach. he’s panting as he finishes all over you, painting your stomach white. you smile at the scene, enjoying the was he’s made you his little art piece.

he collapses next to you, laying on his back, catching his breath.

“glad i waited.” you mumble. he turns over to you, looking into your eyes.

“waited for what?” he asks, tiredly tilting his head.

“like, to have sex. m’glad I waited until you.” you mumble, tiredness apparent in your voice. hamzah thinks his heart melts a little at your words.

he grabs a tissue off of his bedside table and wipes the cum off of you so that he can pull you into his arms, dragging the covers over your body.

“i’m glad i waited for you too.”

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter six:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: nsfw (masturbation (f. receiving), praise kink, fingering, dacryphilia, overstimulation, softdom quinn).

➴ word count: 4.6k

💌 from me to you: i’m sorry if this is terrible. wrote a line and then took a 30 minute break every time but hey! i’m trying my best!!! also thank u soooo much for 300+ followers i love all of u so much i hope u can feel the forehead kiss i’m giving u rn 😚 enjoy!

౨ৎ

2024, APRIL.

THE ARENA was packed with people, most of them wearing the Canucks jersey.

It was game night, and Quinn made sure you and Victoria had tickets, with the view you had asked for— perfectly near the Canucks players.

“Brock looks amazing,” Victoria whispered in your ear, and you giggled. “No, like, seriously.”

You wanted to tell her that you weren’t looking at anyone but Quinn. He was standing there, wearing his jersey and throwing the puck around while skating with Miller by his side. He looked stressed, but you knew that he always got anxious before a game.

You debated a lot about coming or not, even if Quinn had been the one to invite you and even if you weren’t exactly known for telling him no. But lately, every time he texted or called, you felt your hands getting sweaty, your heart beating faster and your stomach filling itself up with butterflies.

Everything that you swore you would never let happen again.

“Do you think they’ll win?” Victoria asks you, shoving a handful of popcorn inside her mouth.

“They’re on a winning streak so maybe?” You shrug. “I’m terrible with sports.”

“Ain’t that right,” she laughs. “The only thing that makes hockey interesting are the hot players.”

“And the fights,” you add, munching on your Snickers bar. “I love when they take off their gloves and start punching each other.”

“To me that also categorizes as a hot thing.”

“Fair point.” You nod.

The game went by in a blink of an eye, which surprised you. You thought that because you weren’t really interested in hockey, it would suck to sit there for two hours and watch men skating around, throwing a puck here and there. But by the end of it, you were sweaty and tired from all the screams you let out whenever someone from the other team got in the Canucks way.

You and Victoria got out of your seats, chatting about the game and how happy you both were because the Canucks had won 4-2. Quinn had scored two goals and you were ready to engulf him in a bear hug.

“I think they’re changing but we can wait at the VIP section,” Victoria suggests, walking you through the place like she owned, which was one of the things you loved the most about her; her confidence. “I hope they have snacks and hot dogs.”

“It’s a VIP room, baby, not a restaurant,” you laugh, secretly hoping for the same.

“Either way, I hope there’s food there, I’m starving.”

“We just ate a bowl of popcorn, chocolate and a family sized bag of Ruffles.” You point out, patting your belly over your shirt. “Plus the Coke.”

“It was diet, so it doesn’t really count,” she taps her temple with her index finger. You laugh, doing the same. “Girl math.”

The VIP section was, in fact, full of food. And drinks. And players' wives, girlfriends, families and friends. You felt like a fish out of water but sucked it up either way, texting Quinn and telling him you were waiting for him.

It took a while for him to get there, thirty minutes to be precise, but you knew that the games’ after hours weren’t exactly a chocolate covered strawberry, and with Quinn being the captain, he had to answer dumb questions and talk to interviewers.

But then, Garland opened the door and started yelling about the winners being in the area, which made you laugh.

“Hey, there, cutie,” he smiled at you, wrapping his hands around your shoulders. “Missed that pretty face. Did you see me out there? Nailed it.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you smile awkwardly. “Congratulations?”

“Boo, you didn’t even try to sound excited.” He childishly pouts, poking your cheeks.

“That’s because you’re not exciting, C,” Quinn’s raspy voice fills the air, and it’s almost palpable how all the attention in the room immediately goes to him. “Get your hands off her, come on.”

“Aye, aye Cap.” He kisses your cheek before leaving you alone, dragging Victoria with him.

You don’t even think about helping her because all you can see is Quinn standing in front of you, wearing a burgundy suit with his wet hair falling down his face. He looks so fucking good.

Cocking your head, you smile sweetly at him. “Hi, Cap,”

“Hey there, Mads,” he leans down, kissing your cheek lightly.

You think for a second before standing on the tip of your toes and wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his hand find your waist instantly, like a magnet.

“Congrats on the win,” you whisper, not really wanting to let go. “You played really well.”

“Yeah?” He whispers back, pushing you away just so he could see your face. He smiles. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you sigh, letting him go. Looking around the room, you notice that some people were staring at the two of you, and you blush. Right, you remind yourself, we’re not alone. “Hum. Wanna go eat something?”

“Yeah, I could eat,” he shrugs, looking around. “At home, though.”

“You’re inviting me over?” You chuckle, running your fingers through your hair.

“I am, yes.” He nods.

The little Madisons inside your brain start running around, pushing the danger button again and again while yelling “abort mission!” to each other, but you’re still human, and weak in the flesh.

“We can pick Bella up, if you want,” he offers, putting his hands inside his pockets.

“There’s no need to, she’s at my neighbor’s house,” you tell him. “She befriended Buttercup, Mrs. Fernandez cat, and now she asks me to let Bella stay there whenever I have to come home late.”

“Smart girl, isn’t she?” He checks the time on his watch, and makes a tsc noise with his mouth. “If we go now we’ll still catch my favorite pizza place open.”

“Greasy pizza for dinner? Isn’t that all models’ dream?” You joke, watching as he laughs softly.

“Quinn,” someone calls him, making him frown.

“I’ll be back in a second,” he sprints to the other side of the room, talking with another man wearing a suit.

You could see Victoria in the other side of the room between Garland and Boeser, looking like she was having the time of her life. She looked like the ice cream part of an ice cream sandwich, the thought making you cover your mouth with your hand to hide your laugh.

Quinn really didn’t take long, walking back to you and placing his hand on your lower back, like he always does.

The drive to his place was long and tiring, but you managed to make it faster with your remarks about the game. And Quinn listened to you, replying only when you were laughing so hard you couldn’t continue speaking.

Quinn’s house was still the same as the last time you’d been there, which felt like a lifetime ago. The three bedroom house was still only furnished with basic furniture, no pictures besides one with his family from when he got drafted.

“Can I shower while you order the food? I think I’m disgusting.”

“Not really. You still smell like a vanilla sundae to me, but sure.” He answers mindlessly while he taps on his phone, probably dialing the pizzaria’s number.

You shower in the same bathroom you showered the last time you’d been there and when you leave, you find Quinn’s clothes on the bed, also like last time. You smile, putting on his weirdly oversized shirt and boxers, leaving the shorts exactly where they were because you knew that they wouldn’t fit you anyway— and the shirt covered Quinn’s new boxers just fine.

You walked back to the living room, finding Quinn standing in the middle of it, with the TV on, watching the game from just hours ago.

“You played well,” you start, sitting on his couch with your legs crossed.

“Thank you,” he smiles, pointing at the unopened red wine bottle sitting on his coffee table. “Thought we should celebrate.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course we should!” You jump out of the couch, headed to his kitchen cabinets looking for wine glasses. “Uh. I just remembered I don’t know where your things are.”

You open the cabinet either way, mentalizing that it shouldn’t be so hard finding two glasses of wine. Only to hear Quinn’s low chuckle, and his body behind yours— his right hand holding you down by your waist and the other one reaching for the glasses inside the cabinet on your left.

“I like to keep them out of my own reach,” he jokes, but you don’t even think about laughing.

Not when his crotch is perfectly aligned with your ass, his hand hot and steady on your waist, his hard chest brushing your back. It’d been brief, only enough time for him to reach the glasses and pick them up, but it’d been enough for you to feel all over the place again.

“Maddie?” He calls you, and you realize you have been standing there for a few seconds now.

“Oh, right,” you smile awkwardly and walk back towards the living room.

While Quinn poured both of you wine, you contemplated what you should do.

Well, fuck my childhood best friend isn’t a thing I should do, you remind your stupid brain, who sometimes liked to conjure images of what fucking Quinn Hughes would look like for you.

The risk of fucking everything up was high and the risk of falling in love with him was even higher. Quinn wasn’t a hard person to love, and with the way he treated you? The way he was ready to hand you anything on a silver plate? It would be like breathing underwater. Impossible.

Thankfully, your mood didn’t take too long to recover, and after an entire bottle of wine and three slices of pizza, you were back at it.

“The worst thing is,” you started, helping Quinn tidy the kitchen and putting away the dirty dishes. “One of the girls sitting next to us was extremely obsessed with you. I swear, she spent the entire two hours shouting your name even when you weren’t there.” You laugh, remember how Victoria threatened to smash her head against the glass.

“I get that a lot and I already told you, I don’t get the appeal,” he shrugs, placing the remaining pizza slices inside a container and tossing it inside his fridge. “Plus, I’m not interested in puck bunnies. They’re not really my thing.”

You gasp, making Quinn stop what he was doing to stare at you. “Does Quinn Hughes have a type?”

“That’s not what I—”

“You do!” You gently place the wine glasses inside of the dishwasher, closing it afterwards. “What is it?”

He laughs, closing the fridge door. “Madison, I don’t have a type.”

“Of course you do. So that’s why you’re one of the few hockey players I know that rarely makes it to dating gossip websites.”

“You’re being insane.”

You shush him with your hand.

“Let me think,” you tap your chin with your index finger, really putting your brain to work. “Okay. Maybe you’re like Jack who’s into musically inclined blondes?”

“No?” He raises his eyebrow. “And since when does Jack—”

“Okay, then maybe you’re like Luke and like frat girls?”

“That doesn’t even sound legal. I’m twenty five.”

“You’re twenty four, we’re not in October yet,” you remind him, trying to think of other types of girls. “What about redheads—”

He gently places his hands on each side of the counter, locking you in place. He cocks his head. “Why is it so important for you to know who I’m into or who I’m not?”

“I just think it’s funny,” you bite your tongue, contemplating what you were about to say. But fuck it, right? You could blame it all on the alcohol later, even if you weren’t even tipsy. “Perhaps fifteen year old me would like to know if she’d have a chance with you.”

He frowns. “Fifteen year old Madison? Not a fucking chance. You were a child.”

“Boo, you’re no fun,” you roll your eyes. “If you don’t think I’m pretty just say that.”

He rolls his eyes again, mimicking your action.

“I didn’t say that,” he clicks his tongue, blue eyes looking down at you, moving around your face. “Ask me what I think about twenty-two year old Madison.”

You gulp, tilting your head back and staring at him in the eye.

Danger, mayday, Madison, get the hell out of there.

“What,” you whisper, licking your lips mindlessly. “What do you think of twenty-two year old Madison?”

“I think you’re perfect,” he whispers back, stepping closer to you, forcing your head to tilt back again so you could maintain eye contact. “I still think you’re the sweetest person to ever walk on Earth, and I’m going insane over the fact that you’re this close to me and I can’t fucking move a finger.”

His statement shocks you, making your eyes double in size. “Quinn—” you start, but he shakes his head.

“Ever since you got back here, ever since I saw you again after fucking seven years,” he steps away from you, running his fingers through his hair in a frustrated move. “You’re— God, you’re everything and you don’t even realize it.”

“I— Well,” you stutter, not even sure of what you could say. Hey, funny story, I want you to kiss me, like, right now.

“You wear my shirt like you’re proud to, you kiss my cheek every time we say goodbye to each other, you drive me absolutely crazy because I know you don’t care about yourself enough,” he calls you out, and you look somewhere else, embarrassed. “But the worst part is watching other guys lick the floor you walk on and not being able to do anything. The even worse part is looking at your lips whenever you wear those glittery lipstick things and not being allowed to kiss the hell out of you.”

“Quinn,” you breathe, leaving the kitchen like you couldn’t stand there anymore, pacing around his living room back and forth. “You shouldn’t be telling me this. We cannot—”

“We cannot what?” He walks towards you, only stopping when you’re toe to toe with each other. “Tell me you don’t want this, Maddie, and I’ll stop. I’ll pretend I never said anything and we’ll just be friends. But fuck,”

“We can’t do this,” you shake your head. “We’re friends. We cannot ruin everything just because we want to fuck each other.”

He smirks. “I never said anything about fucking.”

You feel your cheeks getting warm, and you bite your lips, hiding a smile.

“This is a bad idea. You know that, right?” You whisper, placing your hands on his chest. “Like, a really bad idea.”

“We’re both grown and it seems that we both know what we want,” he mumbles back, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear and holding your chin up. “Do you want this, Maddie?”

Realistically speaking, you’ve been wanting this ever since you realized you could like Quinn as something more than just your best friend. You’ve been wanting this ever since you realized that no one would ever treat you as good as Quinn did. You’ve been wanting this ever since you saw him again for the first time in seven years, looking gorgeous and extremely, dangerously hot.

You do want this, more than you’ve ever wanted anything else. But things could get complicated and… losing Quinn wasn’t something you were interested in doing.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you whisper, watching as his chest goes up and down beneath your palms. “I can’t lose you. If this goes wrong, then, then—”

“Madison,” he kisses your forehead, interrupting you. “Do you want this?”

“More than anything,” you confess. It was true, and even if you lied, Quinn knew you like the back of his hand.

Or at least he used to.

You weren’t prepared for how his lips would feel against yours. Or how he’d place his hands on your lower back. Or how his kiss would feel urgent and needy, making you whimper inside his mouth. Quinn kissed you like he was hungry for something only you could give him, making your knees weak and your breath quicken, the fabric of his shirt feeling soft under your touch.

You ran your hands through his hair, moaning with pleasure because you had finally gotten what you wanted. And just like your predictions, his hair felt soft, with you gently running your hands through his scalp.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air and resting your forehead against his.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you mumble, inhaling his sandalwood scent. “We’re friends, Quinn.”

“I know. And I still want you just the same,” he grips on your waist, hard. You were sure that it would leave a mark on your skin and just the thought of it made you go crazy. “And there’s no going back now, baby.”

The pet name slipped past his lips, the lips you’d kissed so bruisingly just a few seconds ago, making you whimper involuntarily. The wetness between your thighs was just a tiny hint of how much you actually wanted him.

“Let me help you out, hm?” He kisses your lips again, his stubble scratching your face lightly, making you remember where you were, what you were doing and with whom. “Let me make you feel good, Maddie.”

“Please,” You plead, trying to even your own voice. You sounded needy and helpless, but you had too many things going on inside your head at the same time for you to actually start acting like yourself again.

He only hums in response, showering your face with kisses while he guides you to his huge, brown couch. He sits down first, opening his legs and looking up at you, his lustful eyes never leaving yours.

“If you want me to stop, Maddie, just tell me, and I will,” seriously, he reminds you, kissing the tip of your finger. “I don’t care how much I’m enjoying what we’re doing, if you want me to stop, you say so.”

“M’kay,” you whisper, nodding with your head.

He mimics your action and moves on with his hands, removing your— his— boxers, slowly pulling them down, until they meet the floor with a soft thud. Then he helps you remove your legs from the holes, the right first and then the left, his big, warm hands on your thighs making you feel wetter.

He pats the spot between his legs, silently asking you to sit there, with your back against his chest, your head resting against his shoulder.

He gives you goosebumps as he slowly trails a path down your neck with his lips, making a wet sound whenever his mouth touches your burning skin. His hands keep going up and down your thighs, slowly lifting your— again, his— shirt to expose half of your belly and your most intimate part for him.

“Place your heels on the edge of the couch, pretty.”

You couldn’t help but feel your face burn with embarrassment as you did what he said, sliding your feet apart until your legs were spread wide apart. Sex had always been something boring to you and you preferred to do anything else other than let a guy fuck you.

But with Quinn things were already so different. You felt close to him, not only because you were literally on his arms, sitting between his legs, no. Truth be told, Quinn already owned your heart, and getting him to touch you like this was heavenly, but also extremely embarrassing.

You moan as his right index finger runs up and down through your slit, barely touching your clit.

“You’re so wet, baby,” his whispers, voice filled with desire, making you shiver inside his arms. “Who got you so worked up?”

“You,” you breathe. “You did, Quinn.”

“Mhm, that’s right, aren’t you just so sweet, baby?” He chuckles, inserting one finger inside your pussy, making you involuntarily try to close your legs, only to have his left hand holding them apart. “Do you think you’re sweet all over?”

“Quinn.”

He thrusts his finger inside you, finding your spot almost immediately, the wet sound of sex helping the blush on your face grow. Then, after teasing you for a while, he removes himself from you, bringing his index to his mouth, licking the wetness away.

Your face was burning, you wanted to run away and never come back, and it was even worse when you caught the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

“You are,” he whispers, tightening the hold on your thigh and inserting his finger in your hole again, only to take it out after a while. “See it for yourself.”

You were going to die. That was it. Here lies Madison Carter, the girl who thought she could handle Quinn Hughes.

“Open your mouth for me, baby,” he instructs, his raspy tone reaching your ears and making your stomach warm. You slowly part your lips, wrapping them around Quinn’s finger, tasting yourself for the first time in your life. And maybe it was just the power of his words inside your mind, or maybe you were too horny to think correctly but if you closed your eyes and searched inside of your taste buds for a minute, you’d actually see that— it was, indeed, sweet. “Good job, baby.”

You whimper around his finger. Quinn slips two fingers inside your pussy, with little to no resistance with how wet you were. His fingers start up a quick finger fucking that echoes wetly in the living room, making your eyes roll to the back of your head, your cheeks wet with tears you didn’t even know you’d shed.

He’s fast, his palm touching your swollen, needy clit every time he thrusted his fingers into your hole, making you moan loudly, not even caring about the late hours. Your left hand grabs Quinn’s left arm, probably hurting him with how strongly you were holding him but you didn’t care—

You had always been easily overwhelmed and with how much Quinn had teased you, you knew you wouldn’t last long.

“Quinn, I— fuck,” your words get interrupted when you feel a third finger trying to get past your tight entrance, a loud moan coming out of your mouth when it succeeds. The stretch making your pussy hurt so freaking good, tears decorating your face like paintings in museums.

Quinn curls his fingers inside of you, making you slightly lift your hips, surprised with how much pleasure he could give you with just three fingers.

“I’m close, oh my god, Quinn, I’m—” overwhelmed with thoughts of QuinnQuinnQuinn, you sit back on the couch, once again trying to close your legs, and, once again, being unsuccessful.

“You can take it, baby, come on, give me what I want.” He shamelessly opens your legs more, thumb sliding left to right on your clit, making you gasp and whimper incoherent words, babbling nonsense that not even the smartest people in the world could comprehend.

When you came, it was like all of your worries went away, the weight in your shoulder ten, a thousand times lighter. You were crying and you probably looked like a mess, but thinking that Quinn’s responsible for getting you like this only makes you happier.

He didn’t stop fingering you, though, overstimulating your clit until the very last minute; until he had you crying loudly and screaming in his arms.

“Sh, baby, you can take it,” he kisses your wet cheek, slowly stopping his fingers. “Tell me, baby, you can take it.”

You hiccup, trying to hide yourself inside his arms.

“Say it, sweets, and I’ll let you go.”

“I— I can take it.” You whisper, voice hoarse and tired.

“Good girl,” he removes his fingers from your pussy, promptly sliding them inside your mouth, again. You didn’t need instructions this time, you just did what you knew he wanted you to, licking his fingers clean until there was nothing but your saliva on them. “You’re perfect.”

He tilts your head to the side, kissing your lips and brushing his tongue against his.

“How are you feeling, love?” He asks after he breaks the kiss, calmly covering you with your shirt again, wiping your tears away with his left hand.

Love.

“Like I’m made of cotton candy,” you smile tiredly, resting your head against his shoulder. You can feel his body moving as he softly laughs, wrapping his hand around your waist and pulling you closer. “Wanna stay here forever.”

“Sleep here tonight,” he offers, and kisses your cheek again. “I have tomorrow off.”

“Well, I don’t,” you chuckle, remembering that you had to be up early in the morning. “Besides, I have my daughter waiting for me at home.”

He laughs, nodding. “Fair point. Then let me take you home?”

“Yeah,” you agree, only to snuggle closer to his body. “Let’s go.”

You end up napping for about thirty minutes before he wakes you up and hands you another change of clothes, helping you change before he wraps his jacket around you and places a Canucks beanie on your head.

“You can never be warm enough.” He says before opening the door, letting you leave first.

On your way home, inside the warmth of his car, you thought about what this would mean to your friendship. Friends with benefits sounded childish, icky, and not something you were looking forward to. And you weren’t lying to Conor when you told him that you weren’t looking for someone.

Even if that someone was Quinn.

“I can hear you thinking.” He jokes, making you giggle.

“I’m sorry, I just— how do we act now?” You finally say, turning your head to the side and watching his side profile.

“You told Conor you aren’t looking for anyone right now.”

“I did.”

“Well,” he starts. “I’m not saying this because I want you to make a decision or anything like that. But,” he sighs. “I’m not the type of guy who will make arrangements to fuck you during the weekends and move on with my life on the week days.”

You frown. “I don't want that…”

He chuckles. “I know you don’t, baby.”

“But I don’t want a relationship now either. I don’t think I’m… ready.”

This wasn’t exactly a conversation you wanted to have inside a moving car, but oh well. It was too late now. Besides that, you trusted Quinn and you wanted things to be as clear as water between the two of you.

“We don’t have to date,” he adds before parking in front of your building, turning the car off. “What I meant is that I don’t share. If you think we’re better off as friends, then I’ll respect that.”

You blink slowly, tired.

“I don’t… I mean, I wasn’t lying when I told you you ruined the dating experience for me,” you mumble, fidgeting with your fingers, smelling his cologne on the jacket you were wearing. “I’ve only had two boyfriends before you. And honestly, I’m not interested in sharing either.”

“We can take it slow then, sweet girl,” he kisses your forehead, poking your cheek after. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

You wanted to tell him that you had been the one waiting all these years, even if unconsciously. But you had already embarrassed yourself enough for the week, so you just gave him the tiniest, shyest peck on his lips and smiled, leaving the car after wishing him a good night.

Later, while you cuddled Bella and talked with her about your day— leaving the naughty parts aside, of course—, you let yourself dream about what a relationship with Quinn would mean.

Even if you knew that if he really got to know you’d become, he would get tired of you in a second.

“One day at a time, right, baby?” You kissed Bella’s head, letting your exhaustion win.

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay 🤎

[beiasluv]

forbidden fruit pt.2 | charles leclerc

part 1

a/n: i wrote last part at like midnight, apologies for any typos 💀 enjoyy 🤍

‘y/n l/n and charles leclerc. forbidden love, rival or lovers?’

front line mercedes driver, l/n, and the ferrari driver, leclerc, had been seen having a conversation together before the grand prix in italy…

“y/n, question for you please.”

the conference room. same old same old. lewis, you, and george were seated together in front of thousands of lenses, ready to pick each and every length of your skin just to get a piece of information they could sell to the media.

it was the day before the big race in italy, the media was catching their eyes closely at all the drivers - especially you know which two.

“..yes?”

“about the incident after the qualifying round, what had happened with charles?”

the clicking of the pens and the scratching of the notebooks were starting to get you any minute. clearing your throat you grabbed the mic closer to your mouth,

“i’m sure charles meant no harm..we’re racers..erm…rivalry isn’t the furthest thing from us.”

“are you dating charles, y/n?”

alarms were set off in your mind. it would be a crime if george and lewis couldn’t hear them. you were nothing with charles leclerc. he’s the reddest flag of all. really. you were nothing.

"we," clearing your throat and grabbing your mic closer to your dry lips. "we're not talking on any terms."

smile, y/n. smile for the cameras.

"what are your thoughts on the ferrari team this season? any comments?"

the journalist raised his hands through the crowd, his pen almost fell off his lap from the enthusiasm.

"it was always a challenge to race with any team on the track, ferrari included," you nodded. "the ferrari has a strong car, they are one of the many tough contenders. obviously, every team wishes to win...and so does mercedes," glancing a tight smile at the interviewer who took the answer down the notebook. perhaps a little bit too messy for your driver's head to decipher.

"how about when leclerc saved you? any additional comment?"

"i.."

you caught lewis shifting in his seat; his hands started to calm up together in front of the mic, seated between the three drivers and the whole internet. you could only pray your zoning out was missed by the media and you know who.

if only you could express your infinite pain of being the only female in the male-dominant sport, no paper could ever hold just a nick of the feminine rage pregnant inside you.

how come the only question you got asked was about 'charles,' 'men,' 'dating' and never the sophisticated 'performance car racing' or the ones filled with personalities?

george russell, for the record, your biggest shipper, even chipped in. he pushed the mic closer to his face and looked dead into the camera - if looks could kill - "please, this is a mercedes drivers' briefing."

the tension is sky-high, or you could say: rocket-sky-high. george settled back in his seat as you threw him a quick thankful smile. only god knows what the media is going to make up this time.

'george to the rescue'? bullshit.

"lewis, over here please."

--

"y/n, leclerc's getting aggressive. be careful for an overtake-"

"copy-"

the adrenaline is rushing, flowing, and doing whatever the heck it can in your bloodstream. pushing the pedal as hard as your baby could possibly could, the wind rushed against your face. if it wasn't for the helmet you had on, your face would've been cut like it were a thousand knives thrown at you.

looking to your right you see the infamous red ferrari again, surging with the wind and springing out against the green grass beside the track.

"leave space! you fucking-" you muttered as your fingers tick all the necessary buttons of the formula 1 car in order to keep your position above the ferrari. "what the fuck is he doing!"

praying the car tires could take a bit more, you applied as much pressure you felt comfortable on your baby for the first place behind the checkered end line. you glanced at the body behind the mask of the helmet as you continued to push and pray, push and pray.

if only you knew the ferrari was reciprocating the act.

what was important was you finishing above leclerc - mercedes finishing above ferrari, of course.

"leclerc! y/n! leclerc! who's going to win?! would he complete the overtake?!"

holding on to your steering wheel for your dear life, you saw something of a maroon color rushing to your side. perhaps it was the speed of the car that distorted your vision or was it something in your cheeks?

shut up-

"leclerc! leclerc! leclerc! ferrari have gained another victory home! ladies and gentlemen, charles leclerc!"

"fuck!"

the cracking sound from your radio chimed in your ears - at the worst time possible - "y/n! 0.02 second behind leclerc! P2!"

yeah, thanks. thanks for rubbing it in your face that leclerc had beaten you once again.

"..thanks," slowing your car down against the wind, you came to a halt after the race line; obviously at a considerable distance behind the red ferrari. climbing out and plastering on a fake smile for the media and your beloved fans.

--

the monégasques national anthem was blasted through the speaker throughout the whole podium. any fan knew this song belonged to any of the leclerc and ferrari, for now.

holding your hands in the comfort of in front of you, you tried to remain calm throughout the whole song. nevertheless, your heartbeat was beating fast for the obvious reason after the race.

the shit-eating grin was plastered on the driver standing on P1. can you even blame him? congratulations, you had beaten your rival for the longest time and were placed on P1 while wearing your infamous red suit.

while you were wearing your notorious mercedes's fire suit on your waist, just like all the drivers on the grid (and charles), you grabbed the champagne bottle as the others did so.

"good one, leclerc.”

you sprayed the champagne straight onto the monégasques’s back, maybe it was a little intentional that you shook the bottle a little harder for more pressure of the liquor.

no hard feelings, of course. you only knew his hair was soaked under the cap on his head and the tingling of the bubbles down his neck.

how unfortunate.

charles smirked back as he aimed his half-empty champagne bottle at you, "it's still not a date."

what.?

seeing you in your stunned state, he lowered the bottle to an acceptable level. leclerc cleared his throat and wiped the foam of champagne off his upper lips and chin; looking back with the biggest annoying grin on his face, "congrats on the podium. next race?"

oh, how you wish you could smack his grin off his mother fucking face again. rubbing it into your face.

the media..the media. breathe in, breathe out.

"will do, 16."

--

"congratulations on P2,"

toto patted your back as he entered the mercedes's headquarters. how lovely it is to see his drivers bundled up in his room, once again, after a race 'gone wrong.'

"what is it this time," he sighed as he lowered himself to his chair, not ready to be resigning the team principal position for a therapist for his driver.

the room was your comfort zone, safe to say. the picture of toto's kid, susie, and all of his essentials to complete the job for a team principal. crashing into his room with george wasn't an abnormal thing in your team, nor was it the first time of your career with him.

"they kept asking if you're dating charles, huh?" toto grinned as he faked wipe his mouth for the dramatic effect.

"i'm sick of it-"

the environment of the room shifted - for the better, surprisingly. also. did you mention the fact that this room felt more like a therapy session than a team principal's room?

and. wikipedia got it wrong, it was: toto wolff, team principal and CEO of mercedes, and a part-time therapist.

perfect.

"i'm sure we've put on a great fight," toto nodded towards you, the unspoken tension of the media was killing you inside out.

"i'm sick of the media, toto-"

george shifted next to you on the black sofa, "who knows, they're just trying to write a story out of nothing."

"it'll be the death of me if I have to continuously declare my love life on the internet," resting your head back on the back of the couch you did.

the coldness in the room was cleared by a bit as george snaked his arm around the back of the couch, he whispered into your ear, "you don't have a thing for charles..do you?"

"i hate you."

--

"night, toto. night, george."

bidding toto and george goodbyes, you grabbed your bag from the floor and beeline for the exit door.

the hotel bed is calling your name like a mantra at this point. the race was mentally and physically exhausting, what could be better than a nice, warm bath and a soft bed waiting for you?

the sky was pitch black, darker than your deepest thoughts in solitary, but the pitch was never dark. thanks to the eyes-scorching light to illuminate the track during the night races.

“sup lando..sup daniel”

“good race, l/n.”

walking past a couple of drivers, quick and friendly nods were exchanged as you head for the garage for your beloved mercedes.

and for the love of god, the eyes of the ferrari next to your mercedes were ignited.

how could this get even better?

making your way into the garage, you tried to be as quiet as you possibly could. digging in your purse for the key was a painful ride to ride.

'ah, found it.'

your fingertip dug into the muscle memory as you press the button you hoped was coded with 'unlock.'

fuck.

how gracious of mercedes to make the unlocking sound so loud. so loud that it caught the attention of the ferrari driver. so loud that leclerc's neck flicked towards the sound of your car and you swore you could feel his grin growing.

the second slowed down by a quarter as you seized the handle for the door and swung your bag and body inside the car. perhaps it was not fast enough for the P1 winner today as he made his way next to your car before you could even shut the door. ignoring his steps as he teasingly walked over to his ferrari and played with the key in his hand.

"you put up a great fight for the first place," he grinned. "next time.." he opened his ferrari,

“eyes on the track, l/n.”

"how-...don't you worry about it, leclerc," you scoffed, hiding the beating of your heart. fucking hell- stop beating so fast-

raising his eyebrows in one quick, swift motion, he entered his ferrari, "of course." the driver was fully engulfed by the shadows of the vertical door, but his eyes were still looking into yours, "nice drive today."

"you too."

--

your phone screen screamed it was 2 in the morning, but who cares? the tiktok on your phone was a little more entertaining than seeing charles off the track - okay, maybe a lot less - but the thing so addicting about tiktok was a life mystery for you.

curling up to your side, your phone was plugged into the wall next to your bed, your hand starting to get numb from holding your phone for too long.

asmr. f1 edit. asmr. f1 edit. asmr. f1 edit. you were going to go mad. for the love of anyone, if you see one more edit of charles leclerc on your fyp, you are going to throw your phone out-

honestly, you wouldn't lie that you enjoy an edit of yours once in a while, but hell, charles leclerc..fucking leclerc...who told him that he can look so fucking fine after a horrible race from the ferrari?

you were almost tempted to slam your phone on the nightstand and get some sleep for the night. also. who cares if you wake up late tomorrow?

knock..knock

"oh, come on," you cursed. the audacity to knock at 2 in the morning?

you swung yourself off the comfort of your hotel bed and tiptoed towards the door of your room. your pajama short and oversized t did not help with providing the necessary warmth.

peaking through the cat-eye, you saw the last thing you were expecting.

charles leclerc, in the flesh. he was leaning one of his arms on your door as he was about to raise his hand for another knock.

"gasly! open the door-"

"have a problem, leclerc?"

gosh, you wished you could take a pic of how terrified he looked. shit. was he looking at the unbearable state of yours, or what? short shorts, oversized t, and your hair-

"y/n- i'm-"

squinting your eyes, you adjusted to the light of the hallway, "gasly's not here."

silence engulfed the air between you like a buffet. he continued to stare blankly at you. gosh- could he stop with his dark, green, eyes- fuck. "…leclerc?"

was it the tension or your ears going deaf - you weren't sure - that made you couldn't even hear his - probably lame - excuse of why he knocked at your door at 2 in the fucking morning.

what did matter was the blabbering of his mouth traveled through one ear and straight to the other, just like an f1 car, speeding on any straight path-

"-i think i'm fucking in love with you"

"charles...don't."

charles stopped - his breathing, his steps, his brain, and whatever he could be conscious of. you started - started leaning onto the door, started clutching the other hand to the door blocking the other half of your heart from his.

"what d'you mean 'don't'?" leclerc's mouth was gaped, letting the least amount of air in to keep his heart beating - for you.

retracting your hand, and the door, away from him; you still found his hand in the comfort of over yours, the one that you held onto the door to not fall onto the wooden floor of your hotel room.

every breath you took was a sharp nick on your lungs, but you've managed to heaped out, "i'm sorry, charles-" just in time before your lungs would betray you.

"why?...why?...please-"

"why? -really? why?"

finally regaining the willpower to look back at him, and not cry, you were greeted with his reddened eyes, "what the fuck do you want with me-?"

"you- you could go around and tell me all these nice things in front of my face and- and god knows what you've been calling me behind my back-"

his grip on your hands tightened as he opened his mouth again, but you cut him short- "it drives me crazy- fucking crazy that you act all so nice to me when we've fought our whole lives against each other."

"...what ever happened to all of your loathing glares when i'm on the podium?"

who cares what the sleeping people, ghosts, or whoever the fuck on this floor hears. you were done with cradling your heart as far away as you could from the pitch. it was stupid. fucking humiliating, at least, that you've found yourself back - back at the start.

all the effort to fight for your place on the grid as the only female driver and all of your effort to carry your dignity above all the scandals came crashing down just for a second of your selfish desires. was it so bad to want love from someone who really cares for you all your life?

dancing, kissing, crying, loving. was it so hard to deny when it is literally in front of your fucking face? under the reddest flag of all.

you wished and prayed every day that the races would be over soon so you could stop seeing his shit-eating grin, his eyes, his remarks, his cologne filling the air whenever he walked past.

charles stood in silence, unmoving, as if the time had stopped. if only you knew he was trying- trying to find the right word to express this weird sensation in his brain, his chest, his fucking heart. they all just ended up tangled in italian, frech, and english. mon amour. my life-

"..is that how you really think of me-" he felt slightly betrayed by his wrong tone, but even more by your thoughts.

"you think- y/n- you think i'm just trying to tick you off the podium?"

"..are you?" wiping the tears that betrayed you and escaped from the comfort of your eyes. "look- look at all the headlines- 'mercedes and ferrari.' is this really the- the condition you want to love under?"

"i'll love you under any condition i want," he breathed shakily as he continued to hold the door of your room open. who cares about the ruffled sheet you left or your phone uncharged by the bed?

"there's nothing between us-"

"you have a girlfriend for fuck's sake!"

"it's a PR relationship! and who cares what the media thinks? i'm not doing ferrari any good by confessing my heart raw to you-"

"you think mercedes is getting anything out of this but rumors? i've fought the press for all my fucking life from the scandals inside the pit-"

"this isn't about mercedes, and this isn't about the goddamn media-”

charles ran his hand through his messed up hair, "and I would have thought you knew that..."

"maybe- maybe i don't. maybe i'm too scared to love again. maybe i'm too scared of what would happen if we ended on a bad note. maybe i'm a coward for not wanting to open my heart for you.

-maybe i'm stupid...for you"

"you're not stupid," he said- decreasing the gap between you two, trying his hardest not to reach to wipe your tears.

"we won't work out," you sighed. "we'll focus on our drives, we'll fight, you'll leave."

"please," charles grabbed your waist and pulled you in, once again - you gave in. "i'll make it work."

all your walls came crumbling down as you broke down like a dam on his shoulder. you buried your face onto his chest and gripped his shirt until you didn't care it would crease. a mantra of apologies came out of charles's mouth that you wouldn't even waste an energy to decipher.

his hands found their natural comfort in your lower back, rubbing in lines of traces and tracks you'd spend the rest of your life trying to decipher.

tucking a piece of your hair behind, he kissed all of your tears away. his mustache which had grown since the karting days grazed your skin like they were made for each other. his cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling too much like an idiot in front of your hotel room..106.

you were still gripping his shirt hard, as he closed the space between your lips and his. it seemed like all of your walls were crushed to the point of no returning; towering over you, he pressed his body against yours like there was no more- like the last lap of the race.

the level of oxygen in your lungs was starting to set off an alarm in your head, but you didn't care. you were kissing the reddest flag of all in the grid and you were not regretting anything.

pulling away for air, he smiled against your lips; sending a wave of breath onto your chin.

"you have a lot to explain to toto."

"i'll have my ways..."

oh my goodnesss. if you like it, please do whatever you want to, I’ll appreciate it 🫶🏻

today’s a great day to take care of yourself, luvv 🤍

tag: @leclerclvr @buendiabebeta @be-your-coffee-pot @al-luvx

[radio-fmm]

2 am bathroom meeting

Law x reader

comfort & fluff | 1k words

Masterlist

Your reflection meets you and it’s like you don’t even recognize yourself, your eyeliner smudged, cheeks red and warm, eyes tired and your skin pale as a ghost. You frown, shake your head as if disappointed by it.

A big sigh is all it takes for you to try and keep it together. You are not ok, but that’s ok, you’re used to it. This feeling, heart aching, pounding headache and swollen eyes from crying is part of the journey, of your adventure as a Heart Pirate in this world, so you go trough it even if it means crying at 2 am.

You open the faucet and cold water splashes in your hands, the feeling strangely brings you back to earth, you stretch your hands like a bowl letting the droplets accumulate so you can dump them in your face. As you’re halfway trough it, the door of the bathroom opens loudly beside you. You stumble at the noise, dropping the water on yourself as a very scared looking Trafalgar Law stands just witnessing your misfortune

“Shit I didn’t heard you in here” you steal a glance at your Captain, too sleep deprived to even think about closing the door and leave you be. He also does a run over your form, which keeps him standing at the door

There’s a moment of silence, where you scrunch your face and rub your eyes as annoyance stirs along with your sadness, a terrible terrible feeling while Law stays puzzled. Why were you up at this ungodly hour looking so… wrecked?

“It’s fine I’ll just leave” you finally break the silence, you dry your hands hastily before anything more embarrassing happens but your Captain beats you to it

“Are you ok?”

You scoff- “Clearly not”

Law is not the type to ask this type of questions, you regret the tone in your answer immediately after, guilt visibly in your expression. You don’t want to push him away but right now, you’re not quite yourself and you’ll regret saying something you don’t want to.

Law stays still, eyebrows furrowed. He hates this, not you, but your clear terrible state. But what he hates the most is how he doesn’t really know what to do to help you

You sigh again and walk to the door expecting your Captain to move, but he doesn’t. His face stays reading you, in thought

You rise an eyebrow “Are you ok?, Captain?”

You are both awkward

Law’s body is tense, your eyes keep looking over his head as you hold back tears because this ordeal is making you think about everything again, but you don’t want to talk about it.

The surgeon then pulls a move so unexpected that it has you gasping. He walks into the bathroom and closes the door behind him, arms crossed and brows still furrowed

“If you think I’m gonna let you out of here like nothing happened you’re insane”

He cares, he really does. You know better than anyone else that under his mean captain facade he adored his crew, he cared for everyone and seeing you like this was also breaking a little part of his dark heart. He curses his decision to trap you here, clearly didn’t quite planned exactly what he was going to say or do which is also very unlike him. You always seemed to do that, keep him in his toes and making him act on instinct, even when you’re just vulnerable before him, sad eyes looking up at him

He liked it, but he’ll never admit it

Your heart rate accelerates and you fear you may pass out of the amount of emotions you are putting yourself through at the same time.

As if giving up, you answer softly- “I am just not feeling well… needed to freshen up” theres almost this embarrassment behind your confession, as if hating having to let him se you like this. You always had the habit of putting on a happy face for everyone around you, being the warm, trustworthy and helpful crewmate

But it was exhausting

Law feels like he’s drowning. He doesn’t know what to do, he goes trough a million options as you stand there all sad and tears already falling

“Do you want to… talk about it?” He settles on that

“Not really”

Another silence, and this one is so uncomfortable it has the surgeon of death wanting to pull his hair out, what now? Should he leave?, cry with you?, bring you water, a sandwich?

Suddenly a giggle escapes you, slowly building on a sweet laugh. The sound makes Law’s heart flip a couple times, pink dusting his cheeks in embarrassment but he’ll allow you to laugh at his cost if that makes you happy even just for a while

“You’re bad at this” you say wiping your tears with the back of your hand

“Yea whatever make fun of me” he says annoyed but with a hint of rare playfulness

“No, no! It’s endearing”

“That doesn’t make it better” a hand runs trough his disheveled dark locks, your eyes meet and both melt

You’re so dumb

After your laugh dies and you sniffle a little, the silence feels lighter, almost sweeter in a way and the weight of your shoulders seems to have disappeared into the night

Law smiles, a genuine smile and he’s glad you’re so understanding, keeping up with his awkwardness. He wants to reach out to you but doesn’t want to step in

“What can I do for you then?” There’s a glint of hope when his honey eyes land on yours once again, you smile sheepishly

“Can I get a hug?”

It’s almost stupid how big of a dorky smile breaks against Laws features, he thanks all the forces above for this opportunity and swears to make it count

“Of course”

Slowly, you walk up to him and land on his arms. A warm, sweet comforting hug envelopes you, soothing your worries and sadness making you sigh in satisfaction. His hands move up and down your spine, your sent invading his senses as he burns this moment in his memory forever

This is exactly what you needed.

extra

You laugh again, it rumbles all trough Law’s chest and he just stares down while holding you close and tight

“What’s so funny?”

“Your heart is going so fast Captain”

“Ok that’s enough teasing”

[mrsstarkey1]

found you - rafe cameron

this gif makes me FERAL

SUMMARY: you help rafe one night. he was in a bad position, you helped him out of it. you thought that was the end of the story. does rafe think the same thing?

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

WARNINGS: none

A/N: check out my most recent rafe fic

You sat on the couch on John B’s porch, legs rested on Pope’s lap. JJ and Kie sat together sharing a cigarette, and John B was sitting on the high edge of the porch.

“So, where were you last night y/n? you said you were gonna stay here,” JJ asked you as he got up to get himself a beer.

You put the book that you were reading on your lap, shrugging your shoulders, “just out. You guys know I have other friends right?”

They all gave you a ‘really?’ look, and you avoided all of their eyes. You were obviously lying, but no one pressed it any further.

You started to read your book again as the rest of them engaged in separate conversations. Your eyes moved across an entire page just for you to reach the bottom and not remember a thing you just read. Your mind was clearly elsewhere. It kept going back to the events of last night.

you were sitting on the beach, enjoying the dark sky and the fresh air. the time was nearing midnight, so there was no one on the beach but you and your thoughts.

you sat for about 20 minutes, sipping a beer very slowly. and you were just about to stand up and walk back to your car when you heard footsteps on the steps leading to the beach, and then a small thud followed by a groan.

you ran toward the source of the sound, finding a man laying in the sand, curled up, looking very much in pain. you dropped to your knees next to him, turning him around so you could see his face. “rafe?” you said softly, not even to him, but to yourself.

you hadn’t spoken to rafe cameron in a very long time. not since your freshman year of highschool. even then, you weren’t friends, just acquaintances.

he had a small cut on his forehead, and he reeked of alcohol. “rafe? can you hear me?” he was breathing, but his eyes were shut.

rafe let out a soft moan, giving you his answer. you helped him stand up after a couple minutes of staring at him. “ouch,” rafe held his side, and scrunched his nose up in pain.

“come on, let’s get you to my car. i can take you home, okay?”

rafes eyes widened and he shook his head violently, trying to break free of the hold you had on his hand, “no- no, i don’t want to go home. please, i cant go home. y/n please i-”

“hey, hey it’s okay. you don’t have to go home. i’ll take you back to my place,” you said softly. you were confused by the outburst, but you weren’t going to press him for information, especially in the state he was in.

he let out a breath and his hand relaxed in yours. you led him to your car, and opened the front door for him. he sat down and leaned his head back against the seat, and put his hands over his face. when he stretched back, he winced, hissing from pain.

you leaned into the car, putting your hand on the hem of his shirt, “can i?” he nodded.

you pulled the shirt up to reveal a giant cut right on his stomach, “oh my god.”

“i must have landed on a rock when i fell,” he said, obviously in pain. the numbing of the amount of alcohol hes had was wearing off, and he was feeling all the pain.

“i can stitch it at my house,” you said, closing the door and getting in the drivers seat. you had a first aid kit for all the times you had to stitch up jj.

you drove to your house in silence, though you had so many questions for him.

once you got to your house, you opened rafes door for him and wrapped your arms around his waist, helping him walk, careful to not make contact with his cut. he seemed like he’d gotten 10 times more tired in the short time you’d been in the car.

you led him to your bedroom, and had him sit down on the bed. he was sitting up, but his eyes were closed tightly. “i’m going to take your shirt off, okay?”

he simply nodded and you pulled the shirt off over his head, taking a better look at the cut. “this is going to sting,” you poured alcohol over the open wound.

he winced a little, but took it like a champ. you stitched the wound shut, and helped him put his shirt back on. you moved the covers, so that he would have a place to get under them. 

“i can sleep on the floor,” he said quietly when he realized what you were doing.

you shook your head, “no no, it’s okay. please, sleep on the bed. you look like you could use a good nights sleep.”

he gave you a soft smile, “thank you.”

he slipped his shoes off and moved to the other end of the bed, getting under the blankets. you grabbed a pillow and a blanket from your closet and began to put it on the floor. “y/n?” rafes small voice caused you to stop.

“yeah?”

“can you lay with me?” he asked, so quietly you could barely hear him.

the pure sadness and what you could only think of as fear in his voice broke your heart. “sure, rafe.”

you turned the lights out and slid under the the blanket, next to rafe.

“what were you doing on the beach so late?” he asked you, and you felt his breath on your shoulder. you hadn’t noticed how close you were.

“i was just thinking. it’s so quiet and peaceful at night. i don’t get much of that anymore,” you said turning to look at him, “what about you?”

he closed his eyes, like he was thinking hard about something. “honestly, i don’t remember. i was so wasted, i think i was just walking without even being aware of it. i dont even remember falling. but thank god you were there, y/n. i don’t know what would have happened if you werent,” he said, and you noticed the glossiness of his eyes.

you put your hand on his arm, “i’m just glad that you’re okay.”

rafe hesitantly wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and resting his head on your shoulder, “thank you.”

you just nodded your head a little, and traced circles on rafes back until his breathing steadied, and he drifted off to sleep.

when you woke up in the morning, rafe was gone, and there was a note in his place.

thank you for everything

The sound of a motorcycle pulling up next to the chateau brought you back to present day. You squinted your eyes to see who was under the helmet.

JJ and John B shot up from their seats when they realized who it was, and you did the same.

“Cameron, what the hell are you doing here?” JJ yelled, practically running down the steps and straight toward him.

Rafe held up his hands, “I’m not here to fight, I swear to god, I-”

“Yeah right, like we’re supposed to believe that,” JJ got in Rafe’s face, just as you made it to where they were standing. You held your arm out and made contact with JJ’s chest, motioning for him to stop.

“Hey, chill out JJ. Let him talk,” you said calmly, not wanting to witness a fight.

“I’m here to see y/n,” Rafe said in a calm voice, making eye contact with you. He looked different from last night, probably because he wasn’t drunk this time.

Everyone’s eyes snapped to you, giving you looks of confusion. You didn’t want to begin to explain this to the group.“It’s okay guys, just go inside. I’m going to talk to Rafe.”

After a couple minutes of protesting, they all went back inside, probably still watching from the window. “Are you alright?” you asked, not knowing why else he would be coming to see you.

He shifted on his feet a little, “yeah, I’m okay. I just wanted to see you. I had to go to the country club with Topper and Kelce this morning, that’s why I left. but I- I wanted to stay,” he said quietly, not meeting your eyes.

Your lips twitched into a small smile, “do you want to go for a drive?”

He let out a small sigh of relief at your offer, nodding with a smile. You led him to your car. You already knew what everyone inside was thinking, so you sent a quick text to your friends.

i’m getting in this car willingly, don’t worry about me

You switched off your phone and got into the drivers seat. “Where do you want to go?” you asked, turning to look at him.

He thought for a moment, drumming his fingers on the car door, “I’m kind of hungry,” he said with an asking smile.

“Me too. I know a good place about a half hour from here, if you don’t mind the drive.”

He shook his head, “I don’t mind.”

You figured that you would spend the ride in silence, but Rafe was feeling especially talkative. He asked you about a thousand questions about yourself, and the only question you could think to ask him was, “why do you want to know so much about me?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “I just want to get to know you,” he said nonchalantly, and you smiled a little.

You answered all of his questions until you pulled into the parking lot of the little diner. You spent the rest of the afternoon in the diner, just talking. Talking to Rafe somehow felt so normal, so easy.

After you finished eating, you were prepared to end the day you’d spent with rafe, which was admittedly one of the best days you’d had in a long time. You savored the ride home, as you thought it might be the last time you were with him.

You had just made it back to obx when Rafe suggested going back to your house to watch a movie. “Not sick of me yet, Cameron?” you said jokingly, with a hint of seriousness. You really weren’t sure why rafe wanted to keep hanging out with you, but you wouldn't be caught complaining. 

You handed him a blanket and a bowl of popcorn before sitting down on the other side of the couch. Rafe frowned at your preferred seating, “can’t you sit over here?” he patted the fabric of the couch directly next to him. 

Rafe’s undeniable need for physical touch at all times became very clear in the last two days. Of course, you didn’t mind. You really were the same way. You sat down next to him, your legs touching. His arm snaked around your waist, and his head rested on your shoulder.

You pressed play on the movie, but you found it hard to focus on the film and not the man practically on top of you. “Rafe?” you whispered, and he turned his head a little to look at you.

“Yeah, y/n?”

“Why are you here with me right now?” he gave you a confused look, “I mean, why aren’t you with your friends. You’d barely even spoken to me until yesterday. Do you feel like you.. owe me? Or something?”

“No, no that’s not it at all,” he said quickly, changing his position on the couch shifted so he was sitting up more. He took a breath, clearing his throat, “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s just, after last night... I couldn’t get you out of my head. I mean you helped me more than anyone ever has, even though you know what kind of person I am. I mean I mess with your friends all the time, which I do plan to stop doing. I don’t know, but there’s just something magnetic about you, y/n,” he spoke the whole monologue in a soft voice, not meeting your eyes. He gave you the impression that he didn’t express his feelings much, which made you feel warm inside, knowing he expressed them to you. 

“That was deep, Rafe Cameron,” you said softly with a small smile. He let out a breathy laugh with a small shake of his head. You became more serious, “of course I helped you, Rafe. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, everyone deserves redemption. And surely no one deserves to bleed out drunk on a beach.”

Rafe stayed silent, only looking at you with a look of admiration that he didn’t believe he’d ever given anyone before. You grabbed his hand in yours, rubbing circles with your thumb on his soft skin and gave him a soft smile. You put your head on his shoulder, and he hesitantly placed a kiss to the side of your head.

“I was really glad when you showed up at John B’s today,” you mumbled into his shoulder. “And I’m really glad JJ didn’t start swinging. I wouldn’t want to have to stitch you up again so soon.”

taglist: @withbeautyandrage

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[midnightanxietytm]

He takes his whiskey neat

A/N: Look, I think i was possessed while writing this one /j. It was like 1 am and I was procrastination on college work, I dunno what happened but this is the ungodly spawn of my imagination mixed with sleep deprivation, caffeine and stress. Enjoy and don't question it too much

Contents: Ford Pines x reader, pinning (lots of pining), I pictured reader in their late 40s to early 50s so there is an age gap but nothing extreme. There's some plot in those holes. uhhh lots of tension and no payoff because im pretty sure I passed out before I got to that part.

Word count: 996

There’s this look on his eyes now that you can’t quite figure out.

Ever since Stanford Pines came back from the portal, ever since weirdmageddon and the end of that fateful summer, something about him fundamentally changed. There’s contempt, relief, sure, but there's more to it, something that he keeps deep in that rattling metal-protected brain of his.

And god forbid sometimes you just want to pick him apart entirely, figure out every detail, note it down, absorb it, maybe then his mere presence won’t entice you, mess you, so goddamn much.

It culminates, as all events are bound to do, right before that year’s summer vacation, you blame the heat. 

Soos and Melody took a vacation for themselves, entrusting the shack back to Stan’s less than trustworthy hands, just like old times. Ford slips back into the basement so easily you almost follow him; your mind briefly longing for that nostalgia of being freshly out of college, when you and Ford were easily impressed by the oddness of the world.

You were a prodigy; a good ten years younger than him yet still doing your masters while he did his doctorate, and in the same area with similar themes! Back then, you two were just bright-eyed yet very tired academics… Then Gravity Falls presented itself on a silver platter, and Bill followed through.

You were there, on the day of the portal, or at least, almost there, going back for the thousandth time, expecting no answer to your knocks at the door as usual, only to be met with the fallout of something far worse than refusal.

And then he was back, less jittery, less paranoid and less sleep deprived than he was before at least. But there was that thing in his eyes, that inherent distrust, detachment…? You struggled to find the words and if there’s one thing that you as a scientist can’t deal with is a question that goes unresearched.

So it began; your “research” depended on experiment and to experiment, you firstly decided to get close to your unwilling subject. And you go down the rabbit hole.

You find him in the basement, of course. He’s drawing on loose sheets of paper, some of the discarded pieces lay on the floor, and the cd player by his side is playing just loud enough to muffle your footsteps as you approach him by his right side. “Updating the journal?” You ask, nonchalantly, as if you hadn't obsessively turned each page of his journals before, as if your own handwriting wasn’t squeezed in the first ones before his old muse took all the space left.

Ford just hums, raising his chin slightly, but not his eyes, just to acknowledge the question. “Not really, just trying to get some proportion practice. Looking back, some of my work on the first journal was… Not the best.” 

A chuckle leaves your mouth; “If you say so…” You hum, picking up one of the filled out pages that were pushed aside in the table and pretending to look it over as he places his pen down and looks up at you.

“Any advice?” He asks, and once again you pretend to be paying attention to anything but him and his every movement.

“Not really… I think you’re good.” You place the paper back at the table, leaning against it. “Thought you’d be going through your abstract phase by now, honestly.” And you smirk down at him.

He leans back, crossing his arms; “I fear I’m too logical to have an abstract phase, even my craziest dreams have math and science behind them.” And you both laugh, and your curiosity itches more and more every millisecond.

The next words that leave your mouth were planned and inwardly rehearsed, but they come out natural as a summer breeze. “Every tortured artist has an abstract phase, get on with the times, sixer!” It comes out as a joke, it's a test. And suddenly you’re too nervous to stay there, staring at him and waiting for a rebuttal. You push yourself off the table and zipline to one of the bookshelves, reaching towards the back of it, you pull the ‘eureka whiskey’ and the two cups.

He just watches you for a second, then accepts the cup as you pour him one, then one for yourself. 

And it’s truly the eureka whiskey, because goddamn you just found something in those eyes. 

He takes a sip; “Yeah I guess those portal days would do for some good surrealist pieces at least.”

“I can’t even imagine.” You say.

He smirks, lips inches from his cup. “You can’t…” He takes a sip. “That’s the point of surrealist.” You want his brain under a microscope, you want his breath mixing with yours, you want to never see him again, you want to wake up near him every day.

The curse of science is that in the endeavor to figure out the world, the scientist often loses sight of themselves. 

The witty remarks, the planned lines, the psychological strategies, all fly out of you head and you lean back against his desk. He’s leaned further back now and his chair is turned diagonally towards you and he watches with a smile and those eyes. “What did you see?” It’s almost a whisper, because you think he might actually tell you, and that scares you more than anything.

“Too much…” He swallows, sighs, takes a swing of whiskey and rests the empty cup on the desk. “It was very chaotic, honestly that’s all I want to say…” You sigh, pushing yourself up to sit at his desk, and his head tilts as he watches you. 

“I’m glad you’re back.” You settle, even though it doesn’t even come near to all the things you want to express. He smiles, and his eyes travel down, landing on your hands, holding your barely touched whiskey glass. You follow his gaze, and chuckle. “I’m more of a whine person.”

“I know…”

[gyuwoncheol]

Let Me Love You

Pair: Scoups x f!reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, established relationship, 18+ only (MDNI)

Summary: You just want to shower Cheol with all the love and softness in the world and he’s determined to do the same.

Warnings: sickening fluff, big dick!Cheol, porn with plot, very brief wrist pinning, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), nipple play (f. receiving), allusions to subspace, multiple orgasms, back scratching, grinding, unprotected piv sex (stay safe kids), creampie, bulge kink, begging, swearing, dirty talk, hair pulling, marking, pet names, crying during sex (only cause the dick is so good but not mentioned as a kink), just them being so madly in love. Lmk if i missed smth!

WC: 5.3k

Note: completely self indulgent because i’m down BAD for Cheol. Plus, I really do believe in getting your boyfriend flowers too. I know Cheol would just LOVE it.

“What are these?” Seungcheol started the moment your face appeared on his screen, waving the bouquet in his hands

“Well hello to you too” you greeted, “and those are flowers”

“For?”

“For you, silly” you smiled, leaving a very dumbfounded Seungcheol on Facetime. His brows knitted together even more, eyes questioning your answers and the fact that you’re so nonchalant about it all.

Just 10 minutes ago, one of the staff handed him a buoquet of flowers when they called for lunch break during rehearsals and had told him it was from you

“Ooooh, Coups hyung has floooowersssss” DK had teased, only to call the attention of all 12 boys much to Sungcheol’s chagrin

While Joshua complimented the pretty pink wrapper and yellow ribbon that wrapped around the lilies and carnations, the rest of the boys teased their leader playfully. With Seungkwan even threatening that Cheol might have forgotten an important anniversary date of sorts and this was your way of expressing passive agression.

That was when Seungcheol’s overthinking went into overdrive. He was about 500% sure that wasn’t it, he never forgets milestone dates with you, but then again he had been very busy the past few weeks as they geared up for their Japan comeback. Maybe, just maybe, he did forget something which is why he quickly ran to his studio, flowers in hand and your facetime already on dial, his lunch long forgotten.

“Jagi, i’m being serious here”

You giggled at the sight of your boyfriend’s pout, “I am being serious too! Those are for you, baby. Didn’t you read the card?”

“I did! But is this a prank? Did I do something wrong? I didn’t forget a date, did i? Are you mad at—”

“Woah woah, Cheol, slow down” you interrupted, “i’m not mad. You did nothing wrong. Am i not allowed to simply get my baby some flowers?”

“Uhh… yes??” He responded, the statement sounding more like a question

“Yes, i’m not allowed?”

“Yes— i mean, no..” Seungcheol stuttered, “well, okay but why?!”

“Just because!” You shrugged on screen, highly amused by the confusion written all over your boyfriend’s face

“But baby, i’m supposed to get you flowers, not the other way around” he explained, admittedly feeling a tiny bit emasculated by the fact you got him flowers. He was used to getting flowers when they won awards or attended shows but no one has actually ever given him flowers for him alone

“Hey now! There is no such rule that only boyfriends can give flowers! I personally believe that boyfriends deserve getting flowers too!”

Seungcheol was opening his mouth, about to retaliate when you interrupted him once more, albeit softer this time, “Cheollie, those are for you. From me. I know you’ve been busy and tired lately, so i thought sending you some flowers might brighten up your day… the same way mine always does when you get me some”

He glanced at the buoquet of flowers sitting on his desk and then at you, the sweetest smile on your face and your eyes filled with love and that’s when it really hit him that this truly was a genuine gesture from you. You saw through the screen how a light blush slowly crept on his cheeks, his face shifting from that of confusion to being flustered.

“So… t-they’re really for me?”

“Mhmm.. all yours”

The shyest smile erupted from your boyfriend, the crinkles on his eyes appearing, “i love you baby. Thank you for these.”

Cheol held the flowers close to him, inhaling the sweet scent of lilies and actually giving the flowers a good look this time, noticing that it was actually big enough to cover his face and then some more. He loved the flowers you picked and the foliage accents that came with it, noting that you thought hard about what to put together to suit his liking.

“I love you too, baby. I’m proud of you.” You reminded

If he wasn’t a flustered mess awhile ago, then he surely is now. It’s not every day he gets treated like this, and when he thinks about how most boyfriends don’t actually get treated like this, his heart skips a beat at just how special he feels to have you in his life, simultaneously making a mental note to return the favor and give you all his love too.

“Cheol?” You called out, stepping out of your shoes and dropping your keys by the bowl near the door. It was late but for Seungcheol to be home at this time was still considered early. It was usual for rehearsals these days to stretch into the wee hours of the night.

You cleared your throat again as you stepped into the kitchen where Seungcheol was humming along with the soft r&b music that flowed through the speakers, his attention being occupied by the whole chocolate cake he was pulling out the box

“Jagi!” He exclaimed loudly, arms already opening wide and approaching you for a big hug. Your feet lifted off the ground as Seungcheol effortlessly picked you up and peppered kisses all over your face, reducing you to a giggly mess

“Someone’s in a good mood” you mused as he sat you on the counter with one sweet kiss on your lips and his arms still around your waist, “and you’re home early”

“Mhmm. Told the boys i needed to do some damage control after you sent the flowers”

“Cheol, we’ve been over this, you didn’t do—“

“I know, i know” he squeezed you where his hand rested on your hips, “i just said that to get me out early” a proud grin on his face.

“Babe!”

“What? It’s okay… you know they hate it when i get sulky when we’re fighting. They basically kicked me out of there”

“But that’s a lie! We’re not fighting, and you’re definitely not sulking”

“They don’t need to know that. And it’s okay, we had perfected the dance already” your boyfriend smirked, just happy he finally got some time with you before bed “cmon, there’s lots to do”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like cutting this cake i bought for you” a sheepish smile on his face, “i tried to go get you flowers too but by the time i got there, they were closing down and didn’t have your favorite ones, so i got the next best thing”

You cupped your boyfriend’s cheeks, erasing the pout that formed during his explanation, “my favorite chocolate cake is most definitely the next best thing, and besides, you didn’t even have to get me flowers, honey. Could you please just let the flower giving today be for you? I just want to shower you with random gifts too without you having to do anything back. Just let me love you, pleaaaase?”

With a scrunched nose, Cheol buried his face on your chest, “i don’t knoooow” he whined, “just— just maybe not in front of the boys again? Your gifts make me shy”

The laugh you let out was boisterous and loud and shook the whole of your body, “aww, did the leader get teased by his members today?”

“Yes. And it was NOT fun! Mingyu even got mad at me before i left, told me i needed to learn to say sorry first when we have fights”

You cooed at your boyfriend’s words, always happy to know that his members also had your back whenever they think Seungcheol did something bad to you

“Hey, but isn’t that the same train you rode on to get out of work early today?”

“Yes, but i didn’t want to be teased” he sulked

“Okay, big boy. No more flower deliveries in front of your brothers next time. Now, can we please eat that cake already?”

The treat right next to you was calling your name, it had been your favorite since you were in university and when Seungcheol had quickly discovered that if there was one sure fire way to get your spirits up, it would be a slice of that chocolate cake, he always made sure to get it for you on every celebration and apology. He delicately transfered a massive slice onto a plate before feeding you a forkful of it, a smile on his face watching you devour it as your legs happily swayed from the counter.

This, right here, in this kitchen with you and your cake and him and his flowers is what it’s all about, Seungcheol thought.

“Baby…” your boyfriend started shyly, “will you help me fix my flowers?”

“Of course, my love. How do you want them?”

“In a vase, on my bedside table” he answered without hesitation “so that i can see it right away when i wake up”

“Wow, looks like you haven’t thought this through at all, huh?” You teased, happy to know that the flowers were a successful gift

“You can’t blame me! They’re so pretty!”

A deeper blush painted Cheol’s cheeks, he hated to admit it but he did absolutely love the flowers you got him. To him, it was ultimately the nicest random gesture he’s ever gotten from someone he loved. Now he understood why you— and most girls— loved receiving flowers.

The both of you fell into a comfortable conversation as you arranged his flowers nicely in a vase while he fueled you with never ending forkfuls of cake.

When you had both retired to the bedroom, dishes cleaned in the kitchen and lights turned off, you happily set the vase of flowers on his bedside table like he asked

“Is this okay?”

“Mhmm.. more than okay” Seungcheol’s strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind, “they’re beautiful…” his lips ghosted on your neck as he admired the light colored petals

“You’re beautiful.” He said just slightly above a whisper with a wet open mouthed kiss on your neck

Your breath hitched when you felt him suck at the spot just below your ear, the air in the bedroom suddenly feeling hot and heavy. Sungcheol flattened his wet tongue on the spot to soothe it but only to resume sucking on it again. The repetitive motion surely leaving a bruise on its wake and making you weak on the knees as your hands gripped on his arms around your waist for support

“You like that, baby?” A low growl rumbled through his chest that sent tingles right between your legs

You wanted to say yes but all you could muster was a nod

“Words, baby”

“Yes!” You exhaled in a rush, rubbing your thighs together for reprieve

Your boyfriend squeezed your waist tighter, teasing “want more?”

You eagerly nodded, not one to waste time. Given Cheol’s schedule and your fair share of busy days in the office, it’s been a while since you both had been intimate

“I said, i need words”

“Cheollie, p-please” you whimpered so desperately

Luckily for you, Seungcheol had missed feeling you too and didn’t plan to tease you so much tonight. He pushed you onto the bed, and with way too much force, his hands pulled your dress shirt open, sending buttons flying to different directions

“Cheol!” You shrieked, but he couldn’t care less.

As one hand worked on getting you out of the blouse, his other hand skilfully unhooked your bra, exposing your breasts to him. You saw him lick his lips before hungrily diving in for your left nipple sucking and kissing and biting while his other hand all but traced the area around your right nipple lazily. The contrasting experience your breasts got had you writhing under his weight and clawing at his back to pull his own shirt off him

“Babe!” You called out loudly, snapping Seungcheol out of boobie land, “your shirt! Off! Please!”

A devilish smirk flashed on his face at your demand, he really loved it when you used your words in the bedroom. It had been something he’d taught you to do early on in your relationship when he realised you’d been biting your lips so much just trying to hold back from saying anything. He liked to hear you say what you want and did not want, and he especially loved it when you were being loud.

He reached over at the back of his shirt to pull it off in one swift motion, throwing the white oversized tee to the ground. Your eyes grew larger at the sight of his bare chest but before you could even do anything, his hand had snatched both your wrists and pinned them above your head

“Happy?” He asked, his biceps flexing above you as his eyes turned a few shades darker

“No” was the answer that came out of your mouth that shocked your boyfriend, “i want you to kiss me” you challenged

He didn’t need to be told twice. His lips latching onto yours immediately with fervor, happy to have found that you had already given access for his tongue to explore your mouth. There was no point in fighting for dominance, you were happy to submit yourself to Cheol, happy to just be held and loved by him after a while. With every move he made, the more wetness pooled in your panties, and as you lifted your hips to gain some friction, Seungcheol was quick enough to push your hips back down to the mattress 

"Easy, baby. Don't worry, I got you" he assured, finally giving you a chance to refill on oxygen and tangle your hands in his hair when your wrists were set free

He trailed down your body, covering every inch of your torso with wet open kisses, each second that held him back from where you wanted him just driving you crazy. And he knew this. You knew he knew it too, with the way he stopped right above the hemline of your pencil skirt only to look up to you with the most lust filled eyes 

"Baby, please... I need you right now" 

"Nuh uh" he chastised, his hands working on sliding the zipper down, loosening up your skirt so he could take it off you. "Need to taste you first" He said with another growl that has once again caused wetness to rush in your cunt

In a most lewd act, you stared dumbfounded at your boyfriend who buried his nose on your covered pussy, taking a deep inhale all while his eyes remained on yours, "You smell so fucking good, i can't wait to devour you" 

And devour you, he did. Your panties coming off in record time, his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking like it was the last piece of lollipop on earth. His teeth grazed at the sensitive bud before soothing it with a kiss and a hard suck, something he knew would make your eyes roll back. When you felt his finger travel up your slit, a strangled moan ripped out your throat, making your boyfriend smirk like a mad man. 

"God baby, you're so wet, you'll suck my fingers right in"

You would've disagreed if you didn't just hear the squelch that reverberated in the room when Seungcheol dipped his middle finger in your hole. Barely five pumps in and he thought it enough to already add a second digit, making your back arch off the mattress and tears prick in your eyes. A tight knot in your stomach making itself felt as you smiled, missing the feeling of an oncoming orgasm. 

"Fuck, Cheol!" you said through gritted teeth, the sensation of his fingers massaging your walls and his thick lips tugging at your clit was nothing short of heaven. His long fingers grazing the rough velvety spot inside you was enough to make you see stars

"Babe, I-i.. W-won't last l-long" You warned, the knot on your abdomen coiling as tight as the grip you had on his scalp 

"Hold on a little more, yeah?" your boyfriend requested, a determined look on his face when he looked up at you, a slight sheen on his face, "I Haven't even gotten a full taste yet" 

"THEN HURRY THE FUCK UP, CHEOL!" You screamed, slamming your fists on the bed, making Seungcheol laugh at your frustration 

"YES, MAAM!" he agreed, pulling his fingers out of you to form a perfect salute right before he sucked your juices from his fingers. Your whine at the loss of contact however, had quickly transformed into a moan when his wet tongue dove into your cunt. The slurping sound he produced being the most unholy thing you've heard tonight.

"FUUUUUUCK" You drawled out, shaking helplessly as you fought so hard to hold the orgasm that was begging to explode. You were right there, teetering off the edge.  

But the idiot below you had other plans, detaching his mouth at the exact moment you were ready to fall. A struggled sob racked through you. The knot that was so tight started to feel like it was moving away. 

"Cheooool" You scolded pathetically with a whimper 

"You taste like honey" He declared proudly above your pussy, the widest grin plastered on his face. It would've been innocently cute if he just wasn't glistening with your juices and if he didn't just deprive you of the one thing you've been longing for for weeks now.

"I wanna cum" you sobbed. It was supposed to come out like a bratty demand, but alas, that attitude can only last so long. "Please baby... let me cum" 

Bless Seungcheol's tongue, you thought. Because as quickly as the feeling went away, so did its return. And this time, with twice the intensity. He licked a fat stripe on the expanse of your pussy, stopping to swirl by your clit before diving back down to your hole.

It was when his thumb drew circular motions in sync with his tongue that you truly felt delirious

"Cum for me, baby" He said just above a whisper but it's all you heard. In mere seconds, the dam broke and your orgasm hit you like a wall, knocking the air out of your lungs and blacking your vision.

Your body shook and your thighs trembled, trapping Seungcheol's head in between. You wanted to push him away, fearing the overstimulation that you knew was fast approaching, but you were so far gone, like you had just ran 5 marathons straight. All while he was happily lapping up every single drop you were willing to give. Your orgasm seeming to last wave after wave sending you to a place only Choi Seungcheol could.

"Cheol, what the fuck was that?" You whimpered when your senses started kicking in and his face was now inches from yours 

He hummed at the sex-crazed look on your face, "hmmm. just the best meal of my life" proudly grinning once again before kissing you on the lips

You moaned in agreement, tasting yourself on him, your brain still reeling from the orgasm you just had. Your arms lazily wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss when you started to feel the sensation of your limbs again. Admittedly, you were exhausted to your very core, but when you felt your boyfriend's painfully hard cock against your thigh, it's like your body willed itself to reenergize. 

Seungcheol felt your fingernails trace his spine, his jaw going slack at the sensation, allowing you enough chance to have your tongue explore his mouth. He loved it when you scratched and traced his back. And he surely loved kissing you. As morbid as it was, he always said that he could immediately die after making out with you and he would die a happy man. So lost in the feel of your mouth on his, he slightly jumped when he felt you palm his cock through his sweats. 

"Babe" he reprimanded, creating a small space between your bodies

"Cheollie" you whined, "you haven't— you haven't even..."

He chuckled incredulously at your words, surprised you still had it in you to go another round after he surely witnessed you cross another dimension from a long overdue orgasm, "Baby, it's okay. You're exhausted, and I can take care of this myself. Just want to make you feel good…. Jus’ wanna love you"

"Then do it" You replied breathlessly, "Make love to me, Cheol" 

Your bedroom smelled of sex but when Choi Seungcheol looked at you, your eyes big and doey, full of love more than lust, the brightest smile grew on his face, his cheeks almost hurting. He couldn't even mask it if he wanted to. It's like time had momentarily stopped for him as you laid there bare against his body, caged in between his arms, face inches just away from yours that he could feel your every breath tickle his lips. His heart was exploding with so much love and care and happiness that he could hear his own heartbeat sync with yours. Make no mistake: your bedroom smelled of sex, but in that moment, there was nothing but pure love in that room. 

"y/n, are you sure?" He asked one more time, cupping your cheek to make sure you were back to reality and you would answer him consciously.

You nodded softly at his words, your own hand coming to hold his, "Yes, I need you to make love to me, Cheol" you repeated loud and clear and with conviction, your hands pulling at the material of his sweatpants to get it off him

Seriously, his cheeks were hurting from smiling too much as he helped you get himself out of his boxers next. Your mouth immediately salivating at the sight of his dick slapping hard against his stomach. His tip was an angry shade of red, leaking with precum and god you just wanted so badly to suck him off. But that would be reserved for another time, maybe in the morning, you thought. 

"I love you, baby" were the words that came out of his mouth when he once again lay atop of you, grinding his cock on your pussy to coat it with your slick 

"i love you, too" You said with a whince when you felt his tip breach your entrance. 

"Breathe, jagi. Breathe." Seungcheol reminded you as he slowly entered you with every inch. Sure he had just given you the best foreplay of your life, but he knew himself that his fingers were only a fraction to the size of him. He especially knew that it had been awhile since you both had sex so the initial pain was definitely to be felt. His eyes were trained on your face and he noticed every sharp inhale, every shudder and whince, and every lip bite you did as you patiently took on his hard cock, knowing that soon enough the pain would turn into immeasurable pleasure. Seungcheol was breathing loudly as he continued pushing in slowly, hoping to get your breath to sync with his. 

"Doing so good for me, jagi" he whispered repetitively into your ears. 

When he finally bottomed out, he stayed completely still for you, feeling your nails claw at his back as if finding something to ground yourself onto 

"I'm right here, y/n. Right here." He reminded you with a call of your name, resting his chin on the crook of your neck which ought to do the trick for you. You were lucky enough to have your boyfriend know you like the back of his hand. It's what made sex with him always so intimate and sacred despite the very dirty things he was actually doing to you. 

"Cheollie, please move" You whimpered when you couldn't take the stillness anymore

Your boyfriend grinded on you to make sure of your request and when you moaned out his name in pleasure, he was assured you had asked him correctly. Seungcheol withdrew his full length, leaving just the tip of his cock inside you before slamming back in. The motion alone sending you higher on the mattress which made him grunt at the sight. 

"Fuck baby, you're so fucking tight" He groaned, the feeling of your walls fluttering on his cock just sending him into a craze of thrusting in and out of you 

You could feel every vein on his cock, as he pumped continuously. His balls slapping against your skin just adding to the lewd noises that your pussy was making as it took in all of your boyfriend's girthy length. 

He dipped his head low and captured your right nipple on his mouth during one particular thrust of his cock and the overwhelming feeling had your back arching off the mattress for the nth time that night, tears once again pricking your eyes at how good everything just felt

"B-babe.." you struggled to form words, "Ha..Hard—harder please!" You rushed out 

He was done teasing you awhile ago, now, he was going to make love to you like you so politely asked.

"what my baby wants, my baby gets" Seungcheol said assuringly, like he was rallying a battalion of soldiers. In one swift motion, he hooked your right leg on his shoulders and thrusted in you so deep, a string of profanities leaving your mouth as your second orgasm washed over you without so much as a warning. You were rendered so speechless that your boyfriend couldn't help but chuckle

"Fucking you so good, you can't even tell when you're cumming huh?" He said with a cocky smirk on his face, completely driving you insane. 

You wanted to form words, tell him how good he was, how good you felt, how you wanted to stop to process what just happened, but also needed more, but all your brain could do was form incoherent noises. This only prodded Cheol to grind his body on yours, leaving open mouthed kisses on your face and lips as you tried to make sense of that orgasm that came out of nowhere

“You like this baby? Like my cock inside your tight pussy?“ he continued, reveling at the fact that he had just made you cum for the second time that night

Your boyfriend hooked your other leg on his shoulder to effectively fold you in half with every thrust, hitting you so deep that you could feel him in your cervix.

"Cmon baby, one more yeah?" He asked with a deep groan.You couldn't even deny him of his favor, not when the new angle he's put you on already had another orgasm forming in your stomach so quickly.

He would deliciously shift between thrusting and grinding, you simply thanked the heavens you had a boyfriend who knew how to move his body so well. 

You experimentingly pressed your hand on the bulge that formed on your stomach where his cock would hit and in a flash, Seungcheol felt his own orgasm hot in his heels. He was so focused in making you feel good tonight that he forgot just how much he needed to cum too. The sight of him so deep in you, your boobs bouncing with every thrust, it was the perfect recipe to just drive him off the edge. 

"Babe— Baby... I won't last..." He tried to say, his attention focusing on hitting your gspot with every thrust to get you there with him 

"I- I know babe" you confirmed, not a stranger to the way his hips would stutter and his left brow would rise when he was about to come undone

You tightened your hold on him, your pussy sucking him in so tight making it harder for him to withdraw. He loved feeling your hole spasm. You brought him down to you by the neck, your mouth latching onto his collar bone to suck intently, willing it to turn purple by tomorrow. Cheol whimpered at the sensation, feeling delirious himself. 

"Babe—" 

"Cum in me, Cheollie" you interrupted him, "Give me all your love" 

Like magic words, Seungcheol came undone, his warm seed painting your walls white as he panted for air. His orgasm lasted so long that it set off your third one. Your cum mixed together as you both trembled from your own highs, whispering sweet nothings to each other. 

When he felt his toes finally uncurl, he collapsed onto the bed but not without rolling you on top of him so that he was still inside you. You could already feel your mixed sticky cum slowly leak out your pussy and onto his thighs but you couldn’t bother for now. You just wanted to stay close to Cheol as much as possible, ghosting your lips at the expanse of his chest, leaving lovebites in your wake.

After sex cuddles with your boyfriend was always like getting your favorite dessert after a hearty meal. And you knew this one would be extra special, especially after having such an intimate time together after so long. Not to mention the precious after care Seungcheol would shower you with in a few minutes. 

"I love you, jagi" you said, using the nickname he uses for you on him and adoring the happiness that adorned your boyfriend's face

His eyes smiled at you, holding you tight against his chest, "I love you too, baby" 

A cold bed was not what you expected to wake up to after the night you just had with your boyfriend, but it seems that at 6:32am, when you finally shut off your alarm, and decided to open your eyes, it was what you were greeted with. Cheol wasn't in his spot. You groaned audibly, annoyed at the fact that you woke up alone, but moreso because everything just felt sore down there. You knew Cheol hadn't left for work yet, his phone was still on his bedside table.

Speaking of the bedside table, it looked awfully empty and that's when it hit you: His vase of flowers were gone. Did he suddenly hit them and break the vase? Surely, you would've heard it shatter to the floor if that was the case. The sudden curiosity in your mind was enough to get you out of bed, albeit, wincing at every step you took down the stairs.

"Baby?" you called out when you heard Cheol's distant humming 

"Kitchen, my love" 

You caught him redhanded as you entered the kitchen, half of his flowers outside the vase while he tried to rearrange the other half that's left in it. A sheepish smile on his face, "Good morning" 

"Hmm... morning" You grumbled, immediately gravitating to his side to get some warmth, your face burrowing on his chest, "I wanted to wake up beside you" you complained 

"Sorry, baby. I just got used to leaving so early for work" 

"But you don't start until later at 9am you said. So why didn't you stay in bed?" You countered, not even caring that you were now full on whining like a kid throwing a tantrum 

Your boyfriend felt bad but not as much as he was enjoying your little fit 

"Sorry, baby" He said again, turning you to face him while he cupped your cheeks with his large hands, leaving a quick peck on your forehead "it's just that when i woke up the first thing i saw were your flowers— my flowers. And then I looked at you and I was just so happy, I can't even explain it. Like nothing could ruin my day. So I took the vase cause I want to transfer some of them. I'll leave half of them on my bedside table, and the other half i'll put in another vase I can bring to work and place in my studio. That way, i'll be reminded of you… and then work won't feel so gloomy after all" he grinned, more than proud of his wonderful idea.

With the way Seungcheol enthusiastically explained his plan, you couldn't be mad. It tugged at your heart strings how happy the simple gesture of gifting him flowers was. You pinched his cheeks softly, endeared at the handsome, happy face smiling back at you. "I love you, Cheol" 

If every night ended up like last night and your boyfriend was this excited every day he got flowers, you made a mental note to make a subscription at the flower shop for flowers delivered especially for Choi Seungcheol.