#In the car on the way to the red carpet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bratzkoo · 2 months ago

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diet pepsi | seungcheol

Author: bratzkoo | beta read by: @spnyin Pairing: F1 driver! seungcheol x model ! reader Genre: fluff, smut Rating: NC-17 Word count: 8.7k Warnings/note: inspired by addison rae's diet pepsi. who here is a slut for seungcheol? 🙌 CAUSE I AM. sexual content. car sex, public sex, kitchen sex, just... they're horny. minors please for the love of God, I have a lot of sfw fics... read those not this.

summary: seungcheol just wants every excuse to have sex with his girlfriend, let him be.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive , @gyuguys

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The screech of tires against asphalt filled the air as Seungcheol Choi crossed the finish line, clinching yet another pole position. The crowd's roar was deafening, but inside his helmet, Seungcheol heard only the pounding of his own heart and the steady rhythm of his breath. As he pulled into the pit lane, a sea of red-clad mechanics swarmed his car, their excitement palpable.

Climbing out of the cockpit, Seungcheol removed his helmet, revealing a shock of tousled dark hair and a face flushed with exertion and triumph. Cameras flashed from every direction, capturing the moment for millions of fans worldwide. Seungcheol's eyes, however, scanned the crowd for one face in particular.

There she was. Y/N stood at the edge of the paddock, her platinum blonde hair catching the sunlight, emerald eyes locked on him. To the world, she was just another beautiful face in the crowd, perhaps a fan or a pampered guest. But Seungcheol knew better. The slight quirk of her lips, the intensity of her gaze – these were for him alone.

As he made his way through the throng of reporters and well-wishers, Seungcheol maintained his media-trained smile, answering questions with practiced ease. "Yes, the car felt great out there. The team has done an amazing job." "No, I'm not thinking about the championship yet. We're taking it one race at a time." All the while, he was hyper-aware of Y/N's presence, like a magnetic pull on his senses.

Finally breaking free from the press, Seungcheol headed towards his private trailer. As he passed Y/N, their eyes met for a brief, electric moment. No words were exchanged, but the message was clear: Meet me later.

Inside the trailer, Seungcheol peeled off his racing suit, the cool air a relief against his skin. As he stepped into the shower, letting the water wash away the sweat and tension of the race, his mind wandered to Y/N. A year together, and still, every moment felt as thrilling as the first.

He remembered their first meeting, at a charity gala nearly fourteen months ago. Y/N had been the face of the event, her billboard-sized image greeting guests as they arrived. In person, she had been even more stunning – all graceful curves and sharp wit. Seungcheol, usually so confident on the track, had fumbled his words like a teenager.

A smile played on his lips as he recalled how Y/N had teased him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I hope you drive better than you flirt," she had quipped, before slipping him her number on a cocktail napkin.

Their relationship had ignited quickly, burning hot and bright. But with their rising stars came increasing scrutiny, and they had made the difficult decision to keep their love under wraps. For a year now, they had been living a double life – stealing moments whenever they could, always looking over their shoulders.

Seungcheol stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. His phone buzzed with a message from Y/N: "Usual spot. One hour."

An hour later, Seungcheol guided his sleek black sports car up the winding road to their favorite overlook. The city sprawled below, a glittering carpet of lights in the gathering dusk. Y/N's car was already there, and as he pulled up beside it, she stepped out, taking his breath away.

Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, contrasting beautifully with the deep green dress that hugged her curves. As she walked towards him, Seungcheol was struck anew by her grace, the way she moved like liquid silk.

"Congratulations, hot shot," Y/N purred as she slid into the passenger seat of Seungcheol's car. "You were incredible out there today."

Seungcheol's hand found hers, their fingers intertwining over the gear shift. "Having you there makes me want to push even harder," he admitted, bringing her hand to his lips for a soft kiss.

Y/N's other hand came up to caress his cheek, her touch igniting sparks under his skin. "Seeing you race... it does things to me," she murmured, her voice low and husky.

Their lips met in a searing kiss, a year's worth of pent-up passion and stolen moments pouring out. Y/N's fingers threaded through Seungcheol's hair, still damp from his shower, as his hands roamed her back, pulling her closer.

With practiced ease, Y/N maneuvered herself onto Seungcheol's lap, the gear shift digging into her thigh. Neither of them cared. All that mattered was the heat between them, the taste of victory on Seungcheol's lips, the soft sighs escaping Y/N's throat.

Seungcheol's lips traveled down Y/N's neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "God, I've missed you," he breathed against her skin. "These past weeks, barely seeing each other..."

Y/N arched into him, her body responding to his every touch. "I know," she gasped as his hands slipped under her dress. "But we're here now."

They moved together with the familiarity of long-time lovers, yet each touch still sent electricity coursing through their bodies. The windows of the car slowly fogged up, creating a cocoon that shut out the world beyond.

Afterward, they sat entwined, Y/N's head resting on Seungcheol's chest, listening to his heartbeat slow to its normal rhythm. The city lights twinkled below them, a reminder of the world they'd have to return to soon.

"I have news," Y/N said softly, tracing patterns on Seungcheol's arm. "That luxury car brand I've been in talks with? They want to do a joint campaign. With an F1 driver."

Seungcheol tensed slightly beneath her. "Let me guess. They want me?"

Y/N nodded, sitting up to look into his eyes. "It could be huge for both of us. But..."

"But it would mean going public," Seungcheol finished for her. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's been a year, Y/N. Maybe it's time."

Y/N searched Seungcheol's face, her brow furrowed with concern. "Are you sure? Your sponsors, my agency... they've all been so insistent about projecting the right image."

Seungcheol cupped Y/N's face in his hands, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks. "The right image is us, together. I'm tired of hiding how I feel about you.”

Y/N's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Seungcheol's lips.

As they drove back to the city, hands intertwined over the gear shift, both Seungcheol and Y/N knew they were accelerating towards a new chapter in their lives. The race to balance their love, careers, and the impending spotlight was on, and neither of them was prepared for the twists and turns that lay ahead.

The next morning found Seungcheol in a strategy meeting with his team. As his race engineer droned on about tire degradation and fuel management, Seungcheol's mind wandered to Y/N. He wondered what she was doing, if she was thinking of him too.

His reverie was interrupted by his team principal, Jeonghan, clearing his throat pointedly. "Seungcheol? Did you hear what I said?"

Seungcheol blinked, forcing himself to focus. "Sorry, Jeonghan. Could you repeat that?"

Jeonghan's eyes narrowed slightly, but he continued, "I said, we've been approached by Luxe Motors for a potential sponsorship deal. They want to do a campaign featuring you and some model." He waved his hand dismissively. "Could be good exposure, but we need to make sure it doesn't interfere with your training schedule."

Seungcheol's heart raced. This was it – the campaign Y/N had mentioned. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "Actually, Jeonghan, there's something I need to tell you all."

The room fell silent, all eyes turning to Seungcheol. He could feel the weight of their expectations, the pressure of the carefully crafted image they had built around him. But as he thought of Y/N, of the love they shared, he knew it was time.

"The model they want for the campaign... her name is Y/N. And we've been in a relationship for the past year."

The silence that followed was deafening. Jeonghan's face turned an alarming shade of red, while his PR manager, Ela, looked like she might faint. It was his mechanic, Dino, who broke the tension with a low whistle.

"Damn, boss. You've been holding out on us!"

What followed was a whirlwind of questions, accusations, and hurried strategizing. By the time Seungcheol left the meeting, his head was spinning. He needed to see Y/N, to hold her, to reassure himself that they were making the right decision.

He found her at their favorite café, tucked away in a corner booth. As soon as she saw him, Y/N's face lit up, then quickly fell as she registered his expression.

"What happened?" she asked as he slid into the seat across from her.

Seungcheol reached for her hand, needing the anchor of her touch. "I told them," he said simply. "About us, about the campaign... everything."

Y/N's eyes widened. "How did they take it?"

"About as well as we expected," Seungcheol sighed. "Jeonghan's worried about the sponsors, Ela's already drafting press releases... it's chaos."

Y/N squeezed his hand. "My agent wasn't much better. He thinks it could either make or break my career."

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their decision settling over them. Then, almost simultaneously, they began to laugh. It started as a chuckle, then grew until they were both shaking with mirth, drawing curious glances from other patrons.

"God, we're a mess, aren't we?" Y/N gasped between giggles.

Seungcheol grinned, feeling lighter than he had in months. "Yeah, but we're a mess together."

As their laughter subsided, Seungcheol was struck by how beautiful Y/N looked, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright with mirth. Without thinking, he leaned across the table and kissed her, right there in the middle of the café.

Y/N froze for a moment, then melted into the kiss. When they parted, she looked around, a mix of exhilaration and nervousness on her face. "Seungcheol! Someone could have seen..."

"Let them see," he said, surprising himself with his boldness. "I'm done hiding, Y/N. I love you, and I want the whole world to know it."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes. "I love you too," she whispered.

They left the café hand in hand, no longer caring who might see them. As they walked through the city streets, Seungcheol felt a sense of freedom he hadn't experienced in years. He pulled Y/N close, kissing her temple.

"Come on," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I have an idea."

Twenty minutes later, they were back in Seungcheol's car, this time parked in the private garage of his apartment building. The space was dimly lit, the concrete walls amplifying every small sound.

"Seungcheol," Y/N breathed as he trailed kisses down her neck. "Are you sure about this? Anyone could walk in..."

He pulled back, looking into her eyes. "Do you want me to stop?"

Y/N bit her lip, desire warring with caution in her expression. Then, with a small shake of her head, she pulled him back to her. "No," she whispered against his lips. "Don't you dare stop."

Their kisses grew more heated, hands roaming with increasing urgency. Y/N's shirt found its way to the floor, followed quickly by Seungcheol's. The leather seats creaked as they moved together, the car rocking slightly with their movements.

Every sound seemed amplified in the quiet garage – their ragged breathing, the soft moans that escaped Y/N's lips as Seungcheol's hands explored her body, the rustle of clothing being hastily removed.

When they finally came together, it was with a passion born of their newfound freedom. Gone was the need for silence, for restraint. Y/N cried out Seungcheol's name, her nails raking down his back. Seungcheol groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

They moved together, lost in the sensation, the thrill of potentially being caught only adding to their excitement. The world outside ceased to exist – there was only this moment, only them.

As they reached their peak together, Y/N's back arched, her head thrown back in ecstasy. Seungcheol held her close, his entire body shuddering with the intensity of his release.

They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms, their breathing slowly returning to normal. Seungcheol pressed soft kisses to Y/N's shoulder, her neck, her cheek.

"I love you," he murmured against her skin. "Whatever happens next, I love you forever."

Y/N smiled, running her fingers through his hair. "I love you forever," she replied.

As they dressed and made their way up to Seungcheol's apartment, both of them knew that tomorrow would bring new challenges. There would be press conferences to face, contracts to negotiate, a gauntlet of public opinion to run.

But for now, as they curled up together on Seungcheol's couch, they were content. They had each other, and they were finally free to show the world their love. Whatever storms lay ahead, they would weather them side by side.

Seungcheol pulled Y/N closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. As sleep began to claim them both, he couldn't help but smile.

The harsh glare of camera flashes assaulted Seungcheol's eyes as he stepped out of his car, his hand firmly clasped around Y/N's. The clamor of reporters shouting questions created a cacophony that threatened to overwhelm them both.

"Seungcheol! How long have you been dating?"

"Y/N! Will this affect your upcoming campaigns?"

"Is this a publicity stunt for Luxe Motors?"

Seungcheol felt Y/N's hand tighten around his, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze. They had prepared for this moment, spent hours with their respective PR teams crafting responses and practicing their delivery. But nothing could have truly prepared them for the reality of facing the media storm head-on.

With a deep breath, Seungcheol raised his free hand, and the crowd quieted marginally. "Thank you all for coming," he began, his voice steady despite the nerves roiling in his stomach. "Y/N and I have decided to make our relationship public because we believe in honesty and transparency, both with our fans and with each other."

Y/N stepped forward, her emerald eyes sparkling with determination. "We've been together for a year," she added, her voice clear and confident. "We kept our relationship private initially to focus on our careers, but we now feel ready to share this part of our lives with you all."

As they fielded questions, Seungcheol marveled at Y/N's poise. She handled even the most probing inquiries with grace, her responses thoughtful and measured. When a particularly aggressive reporter asked if she was using Seungcheol for publicity, Y/N's eyes flashed dangerously.

"I've worked hard to build my career on my own merits," she said, her tone icy. "My relationship with Seungcheol is personal, not professional. We support each other's dreams, but we do not define ourselves by each other's success."

Seungcheol felt a surge of pride and love for her in that moment. As the press conference wound down, he couldn't resist pulling her close and placing a soft kiss on her temple, eliciting a fresh round of camera flashes.

Later, as they collapsed onto the couch in Seungcheol's apartment, the adrenaline of the day finally wearing off, Y/N let out a long sigh. "Well, that was intense," she said, kicking off her heels.

Seungcheol pulled her into his arms, breathing in the comforting scent of her perfume. "You were amazing out there," he murmured into her hair. "I'm so proud of you."

Y/N tilted her head up, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Oh yeah? How proud?"

Seungcheol grinned, recognizing the invitation in her tone. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. Y/N responded eagerly, her hands sliding under his shirt, tracing the contours of his abs.

As things heated up, Seungcheol suddenly pulled back, a playful smirk on his face. "You know," he said, his voice husky, "now that we're public, we don't have to hide anymore. How about we give the paparazzi something to really talk about?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What did you have in mind?"

Seungcheol stood, pulling Y/N up with him. "Trust me," he said, leading her towards the balcony of his penthouse apartment.

The night air was cool on their skin as they stepped outside. The city sprawled before them, a tapestry of lights and shadows. Seungcheol pulled Y/N close, his hands settling on her hips.

"Seungcheol," Y/N gasped, a mix of excitement and nervousness in her voice. "Someone could see us out here."

He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. "Let them see," he whispered. "I want the whole world to know how much I love you."

Their lips met in a searing kiss, hands roaming with newfound freedom. Seungcheol lifted Y/N onto the wide balustrade, her legs wrapping around his waist. The thrill of potentially being seen only added to their passion.

Y/N's fingers tangled in Seungcheol's hair, tugging gently in the way she knew drove him wild. He groaned into her mouth, his hands sliding under her blouse to caress the soft skin of her back. With deft movements, he unhooked her bra, breaking their kiss to trail his lips down her neck.

"Wait," Y/N panted, pushing him back slightly. Seungcheol froze, concern flooding his features.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, searching her face.

Y/N smiled, touching his cheek tenderly. "Everything's perfect. I just... I want to savor this moment."

She slid off the balustrade, taking Seungcheol's hand and leading him to the plush outdoor sofa. With deliberate slowness, she began to undress him, her eyes never leaving his. Seungcheol watched her, mesmerized by the play of emotions across her face – love, desire, and a vulnerability she rarely showed the world.

As she pushed his shirt off his shoulders, her fingers traced the scar on his collarbone, a remnant from a long-ago racing accident. "I was so scared when this happened," she murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the mark. "I realized then how much you meant to me."

Seungcheol's heart swelled with emotion. He cupped Y/N's face in his hands, pouring all his love into a tender kiss. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," he whispered against her lips. "Better than any pole position, any victory."

Y/N's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She pushed him gently onto the sofa, straddling his lap. As she sank down onto him, they both gasped at the sensation. They moved together slowly, savoring every touch, every sensation.

The city lights twinkled below them, but neither Seungcheol nor Y/N noticed. Their world had narrowed to just this moment, just the two of them. Y/N's head fell back, exposing the elegant line of her throat, and Seungcheol couldn't resist leaning in to place open-mouthed kisses along her neck.

"I love you," Y/N breathed, her voice thick with emotion. "I love you so much."

Seungcheol's arms tightened around her, pulling her impossibly closer. "I love you too," he murmured against her skin. "More than I ever thought possible."

As their passion built, their movements became more urgent. Y/N's nails raked down Seungcheol's back, leaving marks that would linger for days. Seungcheol's hands gripped Y/N's hips, guiding her movements.

When they reached their peak, it was with a shared cry of ecstasy that echoed into the night. They clung to each other, trembling with the intensity of their release.

Afterward, they lay tangled together on the plush outdoor sofa, a blanket draped haphazardly over them. Y/N traced lazy patterns on Seungcheol's chest, her head tucked under his chin.

"Do you think anyone saw us?" she asked, a hint of worry creeping into her voice.

Seungcheol chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "If they did, I hope they enjoyed the show."

Y/N swatted his chest playfully, but she couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "You're terrible," she said, but her tone was full of affection.

As they basked in the afterglow, Seungcheol's phone buzzed insistently. With a groan, he reached for it, squinting at the bright screen.

"It's Jeonghan," he said, sitting up. "He wants us at the Luxe Motors headquarters first thing tomorrow morning. Apparently, they're thrilled with the publicity we're generating and want to fast-track the campaign."

Y/N nodded, her expression turning serious. "My agent called earlier. He said the response has been mostly positive, but there are some... less savory rumors starting to circulate."

Seungcheol frowned, pulling Y/N closer. "What kind of rumors?"

She sighed, burying her face in his chest. "The usual trash. That I'm a gold digger, that you're my ticket to the big leagues. Some are even saying this is all a publicity stunt for both our careers."

Anger flared in Seungcheol's chest. "We'll shut them down," he said firmly. "We'll show them how real this is."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Promise me we won't let this change us," she whispered. "Promise me that no matter what happens, it'll always be you and me against the world."

Seungcheol cupped her face in his hands, pouring all his love and conviction into his gaze. "I promise," he said solemnly. "You and me, always."

The sleek, modern headquarters of Luxe Motors loomed before Seungcheol and Y/N as they stepped out of their car. Paparazzi immediately swarmed, cameras flashing incessantly. Seungcheol instinctively moved closer to Y/N, his hand resting protectively on the small of her back as they navigated through the crowd.

"Mr. Choi! Ms. Y/N! Over here!"

"How will this relationship affect your careers?"

"Y/N, are you worried about being overshadowed by Seungcheol's fame?"

Y/N tensed at the last question, but maintained her composure, offering a polite smile to the reporters as Seungcheol guided her into the building.

Once inside, Y/N let out a shaky breath. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that," she admitted, smoothing down her designer dress.

Seungcheol squeezed her hand reassuringly. "You're doing great. Remember, we're in this together."

A tall, impeccably dressed woman approached them, her stilettos clicking against the marble floor. "Mr. Choi, Ms. Y/N, welcome to Luxe Motors. I'm Olivia Chen, head of marketing. We're thrilled to have you both here."

As they followed Olivia to the conference room, Seungcheol couldn't help but notice the curious glances and hushed whispers from the employees they passed. Their relationship was clearly the hot topic of discussion.

The meeting room was already occupied when they entered. Jeonghan, Seungcheol's team principal, was engaged in what looked like a heated discussion with a distinguished-looking man in an expensive suit.

"Ah, here they are now," the man said, turning to greet them with a wide smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Seungcheol, Y/N, I'm Robert Kensington, CEO of Luxe Motors. We're excited about the possibilities this partnership could bring."

As they took their seats, Robert launched into an enthusiastic pitch about the campaign. "We're thinking of a series of ads that showcase both the speed and elegance of our vehicles. Seungcheol, you'll represent the power and precision of our sports models. Y/N, you'll embody the sophistication and luxury of our high-end line."

Y/N nodded, her face a mask of professional interest, but Seungcheol could see the slight furrow in her brow. He knew that look – she wasn't entirely comfortable with something.

"We've also had some... interesting ideas about how to capitalize on your relationship," Robert continued, his tone becoming more cautious. "We were thinking of a tagline: 'The Perfect Match – On and Off the Track.'"

Seungcheol felt Y/N stiffen beside him. Before he could speak, she leaned forward, her voice cool and controlled. "Mr. Kensington, while we appreciate your enthusiasm, I hope you understand that our relationship isn't a marketing tool. We're here as individual professionals, not as a... a product to be sold."

Robert's smile faltered slightly, but he recovered quickly. "Of course, of course. We completely respect your privacy. Perhaps we could discuss some alternative approaches..."

The meeting dragged on for hours, a complex dance of negotiations and compromises. By the time they emerged, Seungcheol felt drained, as if he'd just completed a grueling race.

"Well, that was intense," he said as they made their way to the parking lot. "You were amazing in there, by the way. The way you stood up to Kensington..."

Y/N's smile was tight. "Thanks. I just... I don't want us to become some kind of circus act, you know? I want to be taken seriously for my work, not just as your girlfriend."

Seungcheol pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I know, love. We'll make sure that doesn't happen."

As they approached their car, a young woman suddenly darted in front of them, her phone held out. "Oh my god, it's really you! Can I get a selfie?"

Before either of them could respond, she wedged herself between them, snapping several pictures in quick succession. "This is so cool! My followers are going to freak out!"

The encounter left them both feeling unsettled. As Seungcheol drove them home, Y/N was uncharacteristically quiet, staring out the window with a pensive expression.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Seungcheol asked, reaching over to take her hand.

Y/N sighed, turning to face him. "I'm just... I'm worried, Cheol. About us, about our careers. What if this whole thing blows up in our faces?"

Seungcheol pulled the car over, giving Y/N his full attention. "Hey, look at me," he said gently, cupping her face in his hands. "We knew this wouldn't be easy. But we're stronger together, remember? Whatever comes, we'll face it as a team."

Y/N leaned into his touch, her eyes closing briefly. When she opened them, there was a newfound determination in her gaze. "You're right. We've got this."

As they leaned in for a kiss, neither of them noticed the lone paparazzo hiding in the bushes, his camera capturing every intimate moment.

The next morning, Seungcheol woke to the insistent buzzing of his phone. Groggily, he reached for it, careful not to wake Y/N who was still sleeping peacefully beside him.

His blood ran cold as he saw the barrage of messages and missed calls. There, plastered across every sports and gossip site, was a photo of him and Y/N in what should have been a private moment. The headlines screamed:

"SEUNGCHEOL AND Y/N: TROUBLE IN PARADISE?"

"RACING CHAMP AND MODEL GIRLFRIEND: SECRET ROADSIDE RENDEZVOUS"

"IS THE PRESSURE ALREADY TOO MUCH FOR F1'S NEW IT COUPLE?"

As Y/N stirred beside him, Seungcheol felt a surge of protectiveness. He knew the road ahead would be challenging, but he was determined to shield their love from the prying eyes of the world. Little did he know, this was just the beginning of the obstacles they would face.

Seungcheol took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation to come. As Y/N's eyes fluttered open, he forced a smile. "Morning, beautiful. We need to talk..."

Seungcheol watched anxiously as Y/N's eyes scanned the headlines on his phone, her expression morphing from confusion to shock, and finally settling into a mask of cold anger.

"How dare they?" she hissed, her knuckles white as she gripped the phone. "That was a private moment. How could they twist it like this?"

Seungcheol pulled her into his arms, feeling her tremble with a mix of rage and hurt. "I'm so sorry, love. I should have been more careful. I should have—"

Y/N cut him off, pulling back to look him in the eye. "No, Cheol. This isn't your fault. We have nothing to be ashamed of. We're adults in a committed relationship. They're the ones who should be ashamed, invading our privacy like this."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Seungcheol couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and love for Y/N's strength. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "You're right. So, what do we do now?"

Before Y/N could respond, both their phones began buzzing incessantly. Their respective agents, PR teams, and sponsors were all clamoring for statements and damage control strategies.

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her tousled hair. "I guess we face the music."

The next few hours were a whirlwind of conference calls, emergency meetings, and carefully crafted statements. By midday, Seungcheol felt as if he'd aged years. He looked over at Y/N, who was finishing up a call with her modeling agency.

"No, I will not issue an apology for being in a relationship," she was saying, her voice firm. "We've done nothing wrong. ... Yes, I understand the contract has a morality clause, but this hardly qualifies. ... Fine, we'll discuss this further in person."

She ended the call with a frustrated huff, tossing her phone onto the couch. "This is ridiculous. You'd think we'd committed some horrible crime."

Seungcheol moved to sit beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "How about we get out of here for a bit? Clear our heads?"

Y/N looked skeptical. "And go where? There are probably paparazzi camped outside as we speak."

A mischievous glint appeared in Seungcheol's eye. "Leave that to me."

Thirty minutes later, they were speeding down a secluded coastal road in Seungcheol's sports car, the top down and the wind whipping through their hair. Y/N tilted her head back, basking in the warmth of the sun on her face, a genuine smile gracing her features for the first time that day.

Seungcheol glanced over at her, his heart swelling with emotion. This was the Y/N he fell in love with – carefree, radiant, and full of life. He made a silent vow to do whatever it took to protect their happiness.

They drove for hours, talking, laughing, and simply enjoying each other's company away from the prying eyes of the world. As the sun began to set, painting the sky in brilliant hues of orange and pink, Seungcheol pulled off onto a hidden dirt road.

"Where are we going?" Y/N asked, curiosity piqued.

"You'll see," Seungcheol replied with a wink.

The road led them to a secluded cove, the beach empty save for a few seabirds. Seungcheol parked the car and came around to open Y/N's door, offering his hand with an exaggerated bow.

"My lady," he said in a faux posh accent, eliciting a giggle from Y/N.

Hand in hand, they walked down to the water's edge, the cool sand between their toes a stark contrast to the warmth of the fading sun. They stood in comfortable silence for a while, watching the waves crash against the shore.

"Thank you for this," Y/N said softly, leaning her head on Seungcheol's shoulder. "I needed it more than I realized."

Seungcheol turned to face her, cupping her face gently in his hands. "Y/N, I want you to know that no matter what happens, no matter what the world throws at us, I'm here. Always."

Y/N's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she looked up at him. "I love you, Seungcheol. So much it scares me sometimes."

Their lips met in a kiss that started soft and tender but quickly ignited into something more passionate. Y/N's hands fisted in Seungcheol's shirt, pulling him closer as his arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her slightly off the ground.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, Seungcheol rested his forehead against Y/N's. "Come on," he said, his voice husky. "I have one more surprise for you."

He led her back to the car, opening the trunk to reveal a picnic basket and a pile of blankets. Y/N's face lit up with delight.

"You planned this?"

Seungcheol shrugged, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "I may have made a few calls while you were in the shower this morning. I thought we might need an escape."

They spread the blankets on the hood of the car, laying back to watch as the first stars began to appear in the darkening sky. They fed each other strawberries and sipped champagne, talking about everything and nothing.

As the night grew cooler, Y/N snuggled closer to Seungcheol, her hand tracing idle patterns on his chest. The tension that had been building between them all day finally reached its breaking point.

Seungcheol captured Y/N's wandering hand, bringing it to his lips to place a soft kiss on her palm. The simple gesture sent a shiver down Y/N's spine. She propped herself up on one elbow, gazing down at Seungcheol with eyes dark with desire.

"Make love to me," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.

Seungcheol didn't need to be asked twice. In one fluid motion, he flipped their positions, hovering over Y/N with a look of such intense love and desire that it took her breath away.

Their kisses were heated, urgent, hands roaming and exploring as if discovering each other for the first time. Clothes were shed with little regard, tossed haphazardly onto the sand.

Seungcheol trailed kisses down Y/N's neck, across her collarbone, and lower still. Y/N arched into him, her fingers tangling in his hair as waves of pleasure washed over her.

When Seungcheol finally entered her, they both gasped at the sensation. They moved together in perfect synchrony, the rhythm of their lovemaking echoing the crash of waves against the shore.

Y/N clung to Seungcheol, her nails raking down his back as she neared her peak. "Cheol," she panted, "I'm close..."

Seungcheol increased his pace, driving them both towards ecstasy. "Let go, baby," he murmured against her ear. "I've got you."

They reached their climax together, crying out each other's names into the night. As they came down from their high, Seungcheol peppered Y/N's face with soft kisses, murmuring words of love and adoration.

They lay entwined under the stars, basking in the afterglow, when a sudden flash of light startled them. For a heart-stopping moment, they feared they'd been discovered by paparazzi. But it was just a shooting star, streaking across the sky in a brilliant arc.

Y/N laughed, the sound full of relief and joy. "Make a wish," she said, snuggling closer to Seungcheol.

He tightened his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I already have everything I could wish for right here."

As they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms and the warmth of the blankets, both Seungcheol and Y/N felt a renewed sense of strength and unity. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.

The harsh light of morning brought with it a return to reality. As Seungcheol and Y/N made their way back to the city, both their phones began buzzing with missed calls and messages.

"I suppose it was too much to hope the world would just forget about us for a day," Y/N sighed, scrolling through her notifications.

Seungcheol reached over to squeeze her hand. "Hey, remember what we talked about. Us against the world, right?"

Y/N smiled, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "Right."

Their first stop was Seungcheol's race team headquarters. As they walked in, hand in hand, a hush fell over the usually bustling pit crew. Jeonghan approached them, his expression unreadable.

"Seungcheol, Y/N, my office please."

Once inside, Jeonghan's stern facade crumbled. "Do you two have any idea the headache you've caused me?" he said, but there was a note of fondness in his exasperation. "Half our sponsors are in a panic, the other half want to increase your visibility. It's chaos out there."

Seungcheol straightened, his jaw set in determination. "Jeonghan, I'm sorry for any trouble this has caused the team. But I won't apologize for my relationship with Y/N. If the sponsors have a problem with that—"

Jeonghan held up a hand, cutting him off. "Relax, kid. Nobody's asking you to choose between your career and your girl. We just need to manage this situation better. Which is why I've hired a speciality PR firm to handle your public image as a couple."

Y/N and Seungcheol exchanged surprised glances. This was not what they had expected.

"You're... supportive of us?" Y/N asked hesitantly.

Jeonghan's expression softened. "Look, I've known Seungcheol since he was a rookie. I've never seen him as happy or as focused as he's been since he met you. As far as I'm concerned, you're good for him and good for this team. We just need to make sure the rest of the world sees that too."

Relief washed over both of them. As they left Jeonghan's office, Seungcheol pulled Y/N into a tight hug. "One down," he murmured into her hair.

"One down," she agreed. "Now we just have to face my agency."

The meeting with Y/N's modeling agency was considerably less pleasant. Her agent, a sharp-faced woman named Vivian, paced the conference room like a caged tiger.

"Do you have any idea how many contracts we've had to renegotiate because of this scandal?" she snapped. "Your wholesome image was a major selling point, Y/N. Now half our clients are worried you're too controversial."

Y/N felt Seungcheol tense beside her, but she placed a calming hand on his arm. "Vivian," she said, her voice steady, "I understand your concerns. But I'm still the same model I was a week ago. My relationship status doesn't change my professionalism or my ability to do my job."

Vivian stopped pacing, fixing Y/N with a calculating look. "Maybe... maybe we can work with this. The bad girl image is in right now. And a high-profile relationship could open up new markets..."

As Vivian continued to muse about potential strategies, Y/N and Seungcheol shared a look of disbelief. It seemed that even in this storm of controversy, there might be a silver lining.

By the time they left the agency, both Seungcheol and Y/N were emotionally drained. As they walked to their car, a small group of fans approached, asking for autographs and selfies.

Y/N tensed, expecting intrusive questions or judgmental looks. But to her surprise, the fans were supportive and excited.

"You guys are so cute together!" one young girl gushed. "I hope I find someone who looks at me the way Seungcheol looks at you."

As they drove home, Y/N felt a weight lift from her shoulders. "You know," she said, turning to Seungcheol, "maybe this won't be as bad as we thought."

Seungcheol grinned, bringing her hand to his lips for a quick kiss. "With you by my side? Nothing's too tough to handle."

As they pulled into their driveway, both their phones pinged with a notification. It was a message from the PR firm Jeonghan had hired, outlining their strategy for the coming weeks.

Y/N scrolled through the message, her eyes widening. "They want us to do a joint interview? And a photoshoot for a major magazine?"

Seungcheol nodded, looking thoughtful. "It could be a good opportunity to control the narrative. Tell our story on our own terms."

Y/N bit her lip, considering. "You're right. And hey, at least we'll be facing it together."

As they walked into their home, hand in hand, both Seungcheol and Y/N felt a renewed sense of hope. The road ahead might be challenging, but they were determined to navigate it together, their love serving as both compass and anchor in the stormy seas of public life.

Exhausted from the emotional roller coaster of the day, they decided to turn in early. As they went through their nightly routines, moving around each other with the comfortable familiarity of a long-term couple, both felt a deep sense of gratitude for the other's presence.

Y/N finished brushing her teeth and padded into the bedroom, where Seungcheol was already under the covers, his back propped against the headboard as he scrolled through his phone. He looked up as she entered, a soft smile spreading across his face.

"Come here, you," he said, setting his phone aside and opening his arms.

Y/N didn't need to be told twice. She slipped under the covers and into Seungcheol's embrace, sighing contentedly as she rested her head on his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat beneath her ear was comforting, grounding.

Seungcheol's fingers threaded through her hair, gently massaging her scalp. "How are you feeling?" he asked softly.

Y/N thought for a moment before answering. "Honestly? I feel... good. Today was crazy, but we got through it. Together."

Seungcheol pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "We did. And we'll get through whatever comes next the same way."

Y/N tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes shining with love and trust. "I know we will. I love you, Seungcheol."

"I love you too, Y/N," he murmured, leaning down to capture her lips in a tender kiss.

As they settled into bed, Seungcheol's arms wrapped securely around Y/N, her back pressed to his chest, they both felt a profound sense of peace. The outside world, with all its demands and judgments, seemed far away. In this moment, in the quiet of their bedroom, nothing existed but the two of them and the love they shared.

Y/N snuggled deeper into Seungcheol's embrace, feeling safe and cherished. "Goodnight, love," she whispered, her eyes already heavy with sleep.

"Goodnight, beautiful," Seungcheol replied, placing one last soft kiss on her shoulder.

As they drifted off to sleep, tangled in each other's arms, both Seungcheol and Y/N felt truly content.

The early morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the bedroom. Seungcheol stirred first, his eyes blinking open to find Y/N still nestled in his arms, her face peaceful in sleep. He couldn't help but smile, marveling at how beautiful she looked in the soft light.

As if sensing his gaze, Y/N's eyes fluttered open. A slow, sleepy smile spread across her face as she met Seungcheol's loving gaze. "Good morning, handsome," she murmured, her voice still husky with sleep.

Seungcheol leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Good morning, beautiful. Sleep well?"

Y/N nodded, stretching languidly against him. "Mmm, like a baby. You make an excellent pillow, you know."

Seungcheol chuckled, his hand running soothingly up and down her back. "Happy to be of service."

They lay there for a while longer, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the morning. It was a stark contrast to the chaos of the previous day, and both of them savored the peaceful moment.

Eventually, the buzz of Seungcheol's phone on the nightstand broke the spell. He reached for it, careful not to disturb Y/N too much.

"It's Jeonghan," he said, scanning the message. "The PR team wants to meet with us this afternoon to prep for the interview and photoshoot."

Y/N propped herself up on one elbow, her expression a mix of excitement and nervousness. "I guess it's time to face the music, huh?"

Seungcheol set the phone aside and pulled Y/N closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Hey, we've got this. Remember, it's just us telling our story."

Y/N nodded, drawing strength from his confidence. "You're right. Plus, it might even be fun. I've always wanted to see you try to model," she added with a teasing grin.

Seungcheol gasped in mock offense. "Excuse me, I'll have you know I'm an excellent model. These racing suits don't wear themselves, you know."

Their laughter filled the room, dispelling any lingering tension. As they got up to start their day, both felt ready to take on whatever challenges lay ahead.

The PR team's office was a sleek, modern space in the heart of the city. Seungcheol and Y/N were ushered into a conference room where they were greeted by a trio of sharp-looking professionals.

"Seungcheol, Y/N, thank you for coming," said the woman at the head of the table. "I'm Rebecca, and this is my team, Alex and Mia. We're here to help you navigate this new chapter in your public lives."

For the next few hours, they went over strategies for the upcoming interview and photoshoot. The team was impressed by the natural chemistry between Seungcheol and Y/N, often exchanging pleased glances as the couple interacted.

"You two are naturals," Alex commented during a break. "The camera is going to love you."

As they were wrapping up, Rebecca handed them each a folder. "These are some talking points for the interview. Remember, the goal is to be authentic while also presenting a united front. Your love story is compelling – let that shine through."

Seungcheol and Y/N left the meeting feeling more confident about the upcoming media appearances. As they walked hand in hand down the busy street, Y/N suddenly tugged Seungcheol to a stop.

"Look," she said, pointing across the road. There, on a massive billboard, was an advertisement for Luxe Motors featuring a stunning sports car. "That could be us up there soon."

Seungcheol wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "It will be. And we'll look damn good doing it."

The day of the photoshoot arrived bright and early. The set was a gorgeous beachfront property, with the ocean providing a stunning backdrop. As they went through hair and makeup, Seungcheol couldn't keep his eyes off Y/N.

"You know," he said, leaning close to whisper in her ear, "if this is what modeling is like, I might have to reconsider my career choices."

Y/N laughed, swatting him playfully. "Don't you dare. I quite like having a race car driver for a boyfriend."

The photoshoot itself was a whirlwind of costume changes, different poses, and endless flashes. But through it all, Seungcheol and Y/N's natural chemistry shone through. Whether they were posed casually by a vintage car or dressed to the nines for a red carpet shot, their connection was palpable.

"These are going to be stunning," the photographer gushed as he showed them some of the shots on his camera. "You can really feel the love between you two."

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the beach, the photographer suggested one last shot. Seungcheol and Y/N stood at the water's edge, the waves lapping at their feet. With the Luxe Motors car in the background, Seungcheol wrapped his arms around Y/N from behind, both of them looking out at the horizon.

"Perfect," the photographer said softly, not wanting to break the moment. "That's a wrap, folks!"

Later that evening, as they returned to Seungcheol's apartment, the excitement of the day still thrummed through their veins. Y/N scrolled through some of the behind-the-scenes photos on her phone as Seungcheol poured them each a glass of wine.

"We do look good together, don't we?" she mused, showing Seungcheol a candid shot of them laughing between takes.

Seungcheol set the wine glasses on the kitchen counter and moved behind Y/N, wrapping his arms around her waist. "The best," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot just below her ear. "Though I have to say, I prefer the real thing to any photo."

Y/N's breath hitched as Seungcheol's lips trailed down her neck. She set her phone aside, turning in his arms to face him. "Is that so?" she breathed, her eyes dark with desire. "Care to show me just how much you prefer the real thing?"

In response, Seungcheol captured her lips in a searing kiss. Y/N melted into him, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. With a low growl, Seungcheol lifted her onto the kitchen counter, stepping between her legs as she wrapped them around his waist.

Their kisses grew more heated, hands roaming with increasing urgency. Y/N tugged at Seungcheol's shirt, and he broke away just long enough to pull it off before returning to her lips. His hands slid under her blouse, caressing the soft skin of her back.

"Cheol," Y/N gasped as his lips found that spot on her neck again. "Bedroom?"

Seungcheol pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire. "Why wait?" he asked, his voice husky. "I want you right here, right now."

Y/N's answer was to pull him back in for another passionate kiss. Clothes were shed hastily, scattering across the kitchen floor. When Seungcheol finally entered her, they both gasped at the sensation.

They moved together with a passionate urgency, the counter providing the perfect leverage. Y/N's nails raked down Seungcheol's back as she neared her peak, while Seungcheol's hands gripped her hips, guiding their movements.

"Cheol, I'm close," Y/N panted, her head falling back in ecstasy.

"Let go, baby," Seungcheol murmured against her skin. "I've got you."

They reached their climax together, crying out each other's names into the quiet of the apartment. As they came down from their high, Seungcheol peppered Y/N's face with soft kisses, murmuring words of love and adoration.

Later, as they lounged on the couch, wrapped in soft blankets and each other's arms, Y/N's phone buzzed with a notification. She reached for it, her eyes widening as she read the message.

"Cheol, look at this," she said, showing him the screen. "The magazine wants to bump up the release date of our photoshoot. They say the public's fascination with us is at an all-time high."

Seungcheol read the message, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Looks like our risk is paying off, huh?"

Y/N nodded, snuggling closer to him. "I was so worried about going public, but now... it feels right. Like we're finally free to just be us."

Seungcheol pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I know what you mean. It's like the whole world can see what I've known all along – that you're the most amazing person I've ever met."

Y/N tilted her head up, capturing his lips in a soft, sweet kiss. When they parted, she had a mischievous glint in her eye. "You know, I think we missed a spot in the kitchen. Want to go for round two?"

Seungcheol laughed, the sound full of joy and love. "Lead the way, beautiful."

As they made their way back to the kitchen, hand in hand and giggling like teenagers, both Seungcheol and Y/N felt a profound sense of happiness. Their relationship had been thrust into the spotlight, but rather than wilting under the pressure, they had blossomed. Together, they were ready to face whatever the future held, their love a beacon guiding them through the dazzling world of fame and fortune.

The next morning dawned bright and early, finding Seungcheol and Y/N already up and about. They moved around the kitchen in perfect sync, preparing breakfast together as they discussed their plans for the day.

"I've got a team meeting at 10," Seungcheol said as he flipped pancakes. "Want to meet for lunch after?"

Y/N nodded, pouring coffee into their mugs. "Sounds perfect. I've got a fitting for that new designer campaign, but I should be done by noon."

As they sat down to eat, both their phones pinged with new messages. They shared a look, then reached for their devices.

"It's from the PR team," Seungcheol said, scanning the message. "They want to schedule a follow-up interview to coincide with the magazine release."

Y/N's eyes lit up as she read her own message. "Luxe Motors loves the preview shots. They want to discuss a long-term partnership with both of us!"

Seungcheol reached across the table, taking Y/N's hand in his. "Ready for our next adventure?" he asked, his eyes shining with excitement and love.

Y/N squeezed his hand, her smile radiant. "With you? Always."

#mansaenetwork #kvanity #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen imagines #seungcheol smut #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol fanfic #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol #writing #f1 driver seungcheol #svt fluff #seventeen fanfic

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hysteria-things · 9 months ago

Note

HEYY I LOVE YOUR STORIES COULD YOU MAYBE DO ONE FOR CHRIS OR MATT WHERE HE MEETS A GIRL ON TOUR WHEN SIGNING AUTOGRAPHS AND TELLS HER TO MEET HIM IN THE TOURBUS THEN YKK

♛ ONE ° •

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the versus tour takes place in your hometown! while doing autographs, you seem catch the matt sturniolo’s eye.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, swearing, choking if you squint, making out, oral (male and female receiving), dry humping (?), face fucking, spanking, p in v, overstimulation, dumbification, marking, some degradation/praising, hair pulling, squirting, cream pie, ROUGHH

ASSUME YOU’RE ON THE PILL!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,427

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i added this to my welcome post but i’m going to say it here too. my requests are now CLOSED because i’ve been getting overwhelmed and i want to get them done LOL but my inbox is still open so feel free to chat with me :)

idk when i’ll open them again, but they will be eventually!

the moment you’ve been waiting for for months has finally arrived. you and your best friend hannah were lucky enough to get tickets to the sturniolo triplets tour in your hometown.

currently, the small talk line moves slowly but surely. your friend is decked out in purple for nick while you’re wearing blue for matt.

“we’re next!” hannah gushes, clapping her hands in excitement. she pushes you ahead of her. “i’m scared. you go first.”

you roll your eyes playfully. honestly, you’re not nervous to meet your favorites. you feel chill, which is the opposite of what you thought you’d be like.

matt greets you by hugging you tight and smiling. “how are you?” he asks, taking his card and signing it.

“i’m doing good.” you return his smile. “you liking the tour so far?”

he nods, eyeing you up and down. he feels something different about you. this doesn’t feel like any other small talk.

“i love it.”

the security man motions for you to go on ahead. of course, you listen and start to grab your items, but matt stops you. “do you have a boyfriend?”

see, if this were any other person you’d be weirded out by this question; but because it’s matthew sturniolo, you answer.

“nope.”

he licks his lips, taking the card that he signed and flipping it over to write something.

the scary security is getting angry and impatient with you, so you can only read what he wrote as you walk away. your eyeballs almost burst out of your skull.

i want to see you after the show.

now, you and hannah are standing in the red carpet line before the show actually starts.

you guys talk until it’s your turn, the both of you going since you want a group picture. first is chris, then nick, and lastly matt. he hugs you longer than the other two.

a chill runs down your spine when his voice tickles against your ear. “i’ll meet you outside later, right?”

he pulls away, getting ready to pose for the picture, but you nod for an answer.

“that was so much fun!” hannah screeches as you guys walk to the parking lot.

you agree, before stopping. “i need to go back and use the restroom. do you mind taking my stuff with you to my car?”

she grins, grabbing your stuff. “sure thing.”

you speed walk back to the venue, fewer and fewer people flooding the area as you wait.

a door opens moments later, sounding like the backstage door, and you turn to the source.

you blush, your cheeks heating up more and more the closer he gets with that damn smile on his face.

pinch me this can’t be real.

“hi,” he says lowly.

“hi,” you repeat back.

he looks at his watch. “they’re yapping away in there so we should have some time.”

you’re not sure what that means but again: since it’s matthew fucking sturniolo… you’ll listen without a doubt.

your heartbeat pumps rapidly in your chest when he sneaks you into the tour bus.

you kind of feel bad for leaving hannah behind… but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

the bus looks way bigger on the outside than the inside, and you’re still trying hard to wrap your head around that you’re with matthew. fucking. sturniolo.

he admires the way you take it all in with his hands shoved into his pockets. he’s sure you’re thinking about so many things right now, but the only thing he can think of is how badly he wants to fuck you.

thinking about a fan that way is insane, but he just finds you so much different than any other fan girl. you’re confident, kind, and gorgeous.

you finish observing the tour bus and smile wide at him. “it’s very cool in here.”

“yeah.” he chuckles. “the beds are a tight squeeze though.”

you giggle, and he steps closer. your mind runs a million miles a minute with each step he takes. “do you trust me?” he questions, now inches away from you.

you raise a brow suspiciously. “should i not?”

he smirks, shaking his head. “i’m just checking.” he places his hands on your hips gently, running them up and down.

leaning towards your ear, he whispers. “be good for me, yeah?”

your legs subconsciously squeeze together, and he cups your cheeks with his palms. he leans in slowly. he hesitates when his lips ghost yours to see if you’d protest, but because you don’t, he kisses you.

his tongue licks your lips to indicate that he wants you to open, but you don’t. you feel the coldness of his rings on the side of your neck before he squeezes. when you gasp at the sudden contact, that’s his sign for his tongue to enter your mouth. “you promised you’d be good.” he says between the kiss.

you smirk. “i didn’t promise anything.”

he snarls, leaning back in. the make-out goes on for at least thirty seconds before he pulls away, the lipstick you had on now smeared on both of your mouths.

your eyes have a mind of their own and look down, seeing his rock-hard erection as clear as day through his jeans. “get on your knees.”

your eyebrows shoot to your hairline at the sudden tone change, but you obey either way.

he wastes no time to unbuckle his belt to pull down his jeans, his dick springing out right in front of you. the tip is red and leaking pre-cum. you open your mouth wide without him having to tell you, and he smirks.

leaning in, he grabs your hair and stops you. “no.” he says.

instead, he slaps the head on your tongue before pushing in slowly. it’s like you can feel every vein enter your mouth, gagging in the process when he’s deep in your throat. “holy shit.” he breathes, seeing how much of him you took.

it’s not all of it, but it’s more than he thought. you give him puppy dog eyes through your lashes, despite them being glossy.

he starts to thrust into your mouth, jaw slack as he watches his dick run past your lips in one swift motion. the grip on your head stays tight, him hunching over slightly to get deeper.

you moan at the shape protruding in your throat, the gagging and sloppy wet noises making you turned on even more. “fuck i’ve been wanting to do this since you opened that pretty fucking mouth of yours.” he pants, moving at an ungodly speed that makes it hard for you to breath. “do you just let random guys use this mouth? sure seems that way.”

you moan again, lifting yourself off of the ground the tiniest bit so you can feel the top of his shoe on your swollen clit.

whimpering at the feeling, you start to grind yourself on it while he still fucks your mouth. your arms wrap around his leg, humping faster like a bitch in heat.

“that’s a little pathetic.” he laughs hoarsely, groaning when his dick twitches. “so, so needy for me.”

you let out a pained sob because along with your throat, the feeling of you grinding also hurts. it would be best if you had something way more than his shoe.

“s-shit.” he whimpers, pulling out to where only the tip is in your mouth, making sure you get all of his cum on your tastebuds. he smears the rest on your lips.

matt lifts you from the ground, bending you over the small table that they have. he grabs your ass before giving it a light spank.

it’s his turn to kneel now, simultaneously taking off your leggings. he bites your ass before sliding your panties over. you feel his breath against your aching core. “jesus christ.” he mumbles. “you’re dripping down your legs already. aren’t you just an eager thing?”

he spreads your folds with his thumbs, blowing cool air on them that makes you jolt. you’re too sensitive for that.

then, your phone starts to ring right next to you. it’s hannah.

shit.

you cannot not answer, because if you don’t she’ll think something is wrong. you swipe, putting the phone on speaker. “hell— oh.”

matt immediately digs into you, eating you out like he hasn’t eaten ever in his life.

“where the hell are you? i’ve been waiting by your car for like thirty minutes. using the bathroom shouldn’t take this long, y/n.”

the man below you squeezes your thighs, spreading yourself wider to practically be nose-deep inside of you. your eyes roll back hard, mouth hanging open with silent moans leaving it. “hello?”

“h-hannah i’m sorry i’ll— mm— be out s-soon. i’m sorry.”

“are you okay?” she questions.

with that, matt starts sucking at your bud, causing your legs to shake. you grip the table as hard as you can, your upper body giving out and laying flat on the surface in front of you.

“yes i’m fine!” you say, trying to reach for his head and push him away, but that only makes him grab onto you harder.

he’s fascinated by the way you taste it’s almost hypnotizing. your arousal drips down his chin, and the way he’s sucking has your orgasm wash over you without warning. “i’m cumming.” you whine, and you feel the smug smile on his face.

“oh, so you’re coming? thank god because it’s a little chilly out here,” hannah replies.

“fuck yes.” you moan but cover it by clearing your throat. “i mean, yes. i will be coming in a-a bit.”

she sighs through the phone. “okay.”

you quickly hang up without saying goodbye, holding on for dear life since your release knocked your legs out.

he holds you, getting up and wiping your cum off of his face. “you’re a bit of a bad girl, aren’t you?”

spank.

“leaving your friend out there all alone.”

spank.

“so that you can fuck me.”

spank.

“like a slut.”

spank.

you wince every time he hits you, the stinging tingling on your ass. he grabs your hips and arches you more.

he moves his tip up and down at your entrance teasingly, getting wetter by the second. “matt, please.” you whine, your pussy desperate for his cock. “please fuck me.”

he stops, waiting for a beat before pushing into you like it’s no big deal. he’s big for sure, but because of your wetness, he slides in perfectly. the both of you moan, and matt stares at where you conjoined. “your pussy’s fucking amazing.” he groans. “by far the best i’ve ever had.”

you start to bounce back on him since he’s taking his sweet ass time, but out of nowhere starts pounding into you.

whatever they have on the table starts to either fall or rattle from him railing into you. he takes your hands and pins them behind your back. “harder.” you wince out, and he whistles.

“you have no idea what you just asked for.” he says, doing the opposite and slowing down. “you won’t be able to speak, baby.”

baby. you moan at the nickname.

you’re way past the point of ‘omg i’m hanging out with matt sturniolo!’

you try bouncing your ass back again, but this time he smacks it and spreads your legs wider to plow into you deeper. “so impatient.” he sighs.

all you can do is scream and gasp for air with each thrust, hands balled up into fists.

your mind becomes blank once your eyes cross, your mouth hung open with your chin resting on the table. he hits just the right spot each time, squeezing around him.

“i— i—” you try to warn that you’re close, but your mind won’t let you.

he wasn’t kidding about the won’t be able to speak part.

“you can do it,” he says, knowing damn well you can’t.

your body becomes limp like a rag doll, matt having completely corrupted you.

he tuts fake pouting. “look who’s cock drunk. be a good girl and cum for me. you deserve it.”

blabbing a response, you squirt before cumming harder than before. usually, you’d be embarrassed, but you’re too far gone to care.

“that’s so hot.” he grunts, fucking you through your orgasm. “come on, baby. one more.”

“i can’t.” you sob, his hand letting go of yours before wrapping your hair not once but twice to lift your body to his.

“you can and you will,” he says, your third orgasm already building up in less than two minutes.

tears run down your face, eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. there’s no way the human body can have this much pleasure and be okay.

matt kisses your neck, sucking a big mark when he finds the sweet spot. “i know you’re close already.” he says, his cum starting to leak into you deep.

you can’t stop your body from spasming, letting out one last sob before you cum again.

he pulls out, laying down on top of you and rubbing around your body soothingly to calm you down from your heavy breathing.

he covers your full cunt with your underwear so his cum doesn’t ooze out. he kisses your clothed pussy, and you flinch from the sensitivity. “making sure it’s in there.” he smirks.

after a few minutes, he helps you sit on the table to put your undergarments back on. your eyes are half closed from the post-sex haze.

matt grabs you water and a bag of chips before giving you one last hug. you guys talk for a little before he makes sure the coast is clear for you to get out without being seen.

you’re limping like crazy back to your car, seeing hannah impatiently tap her foot while leaning against the door.

once she sees you, she comes storming over. “you’re so lucky you’re my best friend or i would kill you.” she threatens. “i’ve been standing here for an hour.”

“i’m sorry.” you rasp out.

she studies your face, and it looks like you quite literally saw god. “oh my god, are you sure you are alright? you look like you got jumped.”

“it’s the after-show feeling.” you lie. “i’m exhausted. let’s go.”

she doesn’t question anymore, not even the random snacks and water you have. you start the car and place the stuff matt gave you down until you see there’s a post-it note attached to the bag of sour cream and onion.

to my favorite fan,

xxx-xxx-xxxx

text me when you get the chance, gorgeous

- matt :)

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturniol0s @sturniologirly @hbvfb

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!#[ ♛ ] ° • meet & greet

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fanfictionismyaddiction · 17 days ago

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Red Carpet Rivalry

Word count: 459

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Summary: When Y/n attends the Gladiator 2 premiere with her boyfriend Charles Leclerc, his jealousy is put to the test

______________________________________________________________

The red carpet for Gladiator 2 was dazzling, and as you stepped out of the car with Charles, photographers couldn’t take their eyes off you. You wore a fitted black dress that hugged every curve, the kind of dress that radiated confidence and allure. Charles looked dashing in his tailored suit, but his attention wasn’t just on the glitz and glamour. He was clearly tense, knowing exactly who you were hoping to see tonight.

As you made your way down the carpet, Charles’s arm possessively wrapped around your waist, he leaned close, his lips brushing your ear. “Just so you know,” he whispered, “Pedro Pascal isn’t as charming as everyone thinks.”

You shot him a playful smirk. “Oh, I’m sure,” you replied, knowing full well that Charles’s jealousy had been brewing ever since he found out Pedro Pascal was your celebrity crush. “But it’s Pedro. I mean…can you blame me?”

Charles sighed, visibly unimpressed, but he couldn’t hide the glint of jealousy in his eyes. Just as he was about to respond, you spotted Pedro at the far end of the carpet, posing for photos with that signature charming grin. Your heart skipped a beat, and for a brief moment, you were absolutely starstruck.

Charles noticed immediately, his hand tightening slightly around your waist. “You know, if he even tries to talk to you…” he started, his voice both teasing and laced with a hint of genuine protectiveness.

You couldn’t help but laugh, a sound that caught Pedro’s attention. He glanced over, and to your surprise, he shot you a warm smile, clearly intrigued. The butterflies in your stomach went wild, but you kept your composure, leaning a little closer to Charles as if to remind him he was still your date.

Still, Charles wasn’t fooled. “I see how he looked at you,” he muttered, only half-joking.

“Relax,” you whispered back, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

But as Pedro approached, Charles’s jealousy only grew. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a possessive embrace just as Pedro reached your side. The actor smiled, eyes flicking from you to Charles. “Charles Leclerc,” Pedro greeted warmly, shaking his hand before turning to you. “And you must be his stunning date.”

The compliment made you blush, and for a split second, you swore you saw a hint of challenge in Pedro’s gaze. But before you could respond, Charles was already pulling you closer. “She is,” he said firmly, flashing a smile that was just a little too tight.

You stifled a laugh, feeling a surge of affection for your jealous boyfriend. Charles might be competitive on the track, but seeing him this possessive over you? That was a whole new level of adorable.

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incorrectbatfam · 7 months ago

Note

Do you have any headcanons about dick and Jason being each others favorite brothers👀

Love your blog!!

Dick's favorite is Jason because Jason knows everything Dick did as a teenager which Dick wants to keep under wraps

Jason's favorite is Dick because did anyone else try to kill the Joker for him? Exactly. But good luck getting him to admit it

Dick is convinced Jason came back wrong because no fuckin way his LITTLE brother is TALLER than him

Pre-reveal, Dick loathed Red Hood with every fiber because all he could think about was how this guy had the audacity to use his brother's killer's old moniker

Jason did the Pen 15 thing with Sharpie and Dick actually fell for it

Dick stole Roy's hoodie back in their Titans days, which Jason stole from Dick, and now they go back and forth stealing it from each other while Roy's like "can I have it back now"

Jason matched with one of Dick's coworkers on a dating app. They met for lunch. At the workplace's cafeteria

Dick redesigned his squad car after he stopped being a cop and Jason secretly installed a fridge in the glove compartment. Cut to a week later when Jason pulls out a whole pizza on the highway

Jason does DoorDash occasionally and one time he delivered tacos to an abandoned warehouse because Dick needed backup and the comms were down. Jason didn't help fight, but instead just stood here until he got his tip

Texting Jason is impossible because he'll reply a month later just to correct Dick's grammar

They screenshot the funniest mean comments on their posts and meet up once a month to read them over a bonfire with drinks

Jason will finish patrol, drive all the way to Bludhaven, and climb through Dick's window just to put his wet socks on the radiator and make himself a PB&J. Dick will just be like "ugh whatever" and pretend to watch TV while secretly checking to make sure Jason isn't injured

They trick the other siblings into thinking there's a Robin test that only Dick and Jason have passed

Jason stained Dick's carpet with gunpowder so as revenge, Dick hid an alarm clock in Jason's safehouse

Dick accidentally stumbled across Jason's Ao3 but when he tried to use it as blackmail Jason's just like, "Girl what were YOU doing at the devil's sacrament?"

#dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #batman #batfamily #batfam #batboys #batbros #batkids #batsiblings #batman family #dc comics #headcanon #do not tag as ship #tw angst #tw death mention

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giuseppe-yuki · 7 days ago

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birthday celebration?

normal!max verstappen x billionaire!reader

w.c.: 3.8k

warnings: suggestive material, curse words, danica patrick (?), sassy and jimmy slander (sorry i love them irl i promise)

part of my money, money, money!universe

summary: yesterday was max's birthday. the press wants to know: you guys went all out to celebrate, right?

a/n: so yesterday was actually my birthday 🤭 i tried my best to post this before it hit 12 as a birthday treat for y'all, but it didn't really work out... consider this a late birthday post + max 4 wdc celebration :)

p.s. this is NOT the money, money, money spinoff that i promised- i'm working on that i swear🤞🥲

picture credits from pinterest :)

to say the driveway up to the gala building was crowded was an understatement. if you looked out the window of the very expensive rolls royce you were currently seated in, you could spot at least five rosso corsa ferraris and like, three jet black lamborghinis within a meter from you. to be honest, you had to give props to your private driver, daniil, because there was no way you could have strategically maneuvered the car onto the jam-packed road without causing a rather exorbitant pileup of supercars. next to you, on the plush leather seats, was your boyfriend in his freshly pressed, custom fitted suit that you had your assistant buy just for the event. he sits there politely with his hands folded together, wide blue eyes blinking at you innocently. he looked mighty handsome, and if you weren’t currently sitting in a car with a billion cars, paparazzi, and influential figures right outside, you certainly would have done some not-so-appropriate things to max right then and there.

instead of doing said things and traumatizing your poor private driver, you quickly glance at your phone.

a bold 5:10 flashes across the screen, in front of your lockscreen of max curled up in bed with jimmy and sassy.

shit.

you were scheduled to do some press stuff outside the event around 5:20, and had to be inside by 5:45. if the queue of cars of ahead of you didn’t hurry up, you would probably be late, and it wouldn’t be a good thing if the ceo of redbull herself was late to her own redbull gala.

max, like the sweet, observant boyfriend that he is, peers down at his own phone, notes the time, then tilts his head at you.

“do you want to just run up to the entrance?” he asks, pocketing his phone. “i’m sure it’s not too far, and i don’t want you to be late for your pr stuff!”

that didn’t sound like a bad idea.

after notifying daniil, you and max slip out of the vehicle, much to the surprise of the people in the cars around you. once you squeeze out of the crowd of exotic cars onto the sidewalk, max takes your hand and bolts his way towards the grandly decorated stairs of the gala in the distance.

unfortunately, you might have misjudged the distance to the entrance, because you both end up a little moist from sweat by the time your heeled feet reach the red carpet-lined stone stairs that lead up to open double doors- the entrance to the gala. lining the stairs are multiple cameras and interviewers, met-gala style. you are sure these are the pr interviews that your assistant was talking about, judging by the sprinkle of red-bull sponsored athletes chit-chatting to a few press members along the stairs and groups of photographers sending off bright flashes with their high-tech cameras. to your right, a man you recognize as sergio perez nods slowly as his interviewer animatedly gestures to a picture of sergio diving into what looks like a pool with a mexican flag wrapped around him. directly in front of you stands daniel ricciardo posing in different silly positions, much to the delight of the gossip magazine paparazzis that were probably having a field day photographing him. next to you, max ecstatically pulls on your dress and points to your left to the esports content creator, ludwig, who laughs loudly to your left as he banters with an excited looking man with a rather large microphone in hand. you haven’t really looked into ludwig’s content, but you often saw max watching his streams while you were in your online meetings, so if he liked ludwig, you guess you did too.

you attempt to quickly pull max towards the top of the stairs towards the entrance to the gala in an effort to completely avoid doing your media duties, but you are unfortunately stopped within the next twenty seconds by your own interviewer, a lady in the brightest pink outfit you had ever seen in your life.

“heLLO!” the lady says rather enthusiastically. “danica patrick, reporting for tmz!”

“er, hi!” you respond, a little less enthusiastically. max, half-hidden behind you, gives a light wave to the camera.

unperturbed, she flashes you both a toothy, unnaturally white smile at you both and places a microphone towards her glossy lips.

“so, miss redbull ceo! it’s so nice to meet you!” she remarks, “and you look absolutely flawless today!”

you give her and the camera a tight smile.

“thank you,” you respond, as if you didn’t have two drops of sweat going down your neck and a slightly dirt-dusted gown from the sprint from your car.

she nods, and then as if just realizing max’s presence, snatches him out from his half-hidden position behind you.

“and you!” she exclaims, looking max up and down. “you must be the boyfriend! max-” she checks her notes- “verstappen! yes, i’ve heard so much about you!”

your boyfriend blinks at her, nervously twiddling the redbull pin that was pinned to his lapel.

“okay,” he says after a beat of silence.

the lady nods, and scribbles something down in her notes as if max had something absolutely life-changing, before turning back to you.

“so, i’ve received the news that yesterday was max’s birthday,” she proclaims. “and i was just wondering what’d you guys did to celebrate! as a successful ceo, you must have went all out, huh?”

seriously? you think. what of question is this? you get to interview a ceo and this is the best thing you can come up with?

when you hesitate a second before answering, she probes, “rumor has it that you both went to bora bora yesterday...”

as if it knew that today was your boyfriend’s birthday, the bright rays of the monaco sun shined a golden beam of light straight onto max’s hair, lighting the blondish-brown strands into a little halo around his head. even if it feels like a creep to just stare at his peaceful face, you can’t help but gaze a little too long at his pouty lips, long eyelashes, and light stubble. from the corner of your eye, you can see one of his devilish cats balancing precariously on the bedframe. you clock it as sassy, who you knew, unfortunately from experience, loved to pounce on max’s face in the morning when she was feeling a little hungry. sassy meows at you innocently before proceeding to crouch in a position, ready to pounce. jimmy watches at the end of the bed, doing absolutely nothing as you fight for your life trying to wave sassy away without waking up max.

like the absolute devil sassy is, she leaps off the bedframe, claws extended, right at max. with your lightning quick reflexes that should earn you a seat in the redbull f1 team that your company sponsors, you snatch the bengal cat out of the air before she gets a chance to maul your boyfriend and send him to the emergency room on his birthday.

she hisses at you, teeth bared, and you just about catapult her out of the open window next to the bed.

instead, you take a deep breath. you deduce that max probably wouldn’t like to wake up finding out that his cat was a pancake on the streets below his apartment, probably ran over by someone’s ferrari pista. instead, you opt for a less extreme “fuck you,” that you hiss right back at sassy.

like he sensed someone threatening his baby, your boyfriend shifts around.

“whadyou say?” max mutters from the pillows behind you.

you whip back to face your boyfriend, simultaneously shoving sassy away from you.

max rubs his eyes sleepily and uses a hand to block the sun that now shines into his eyes. you try not to stare again at his eyes that light a warm whisky brown in the beams of sunlight that seep through his fingers. it cannot be legal to look this good.

“nothing,” you dismiss.

leaping forward, you wrap your arms around him in a hug.

a surprised look crosses his face, but he leans into your embrace anyways.

“do you know what day it is, maxie?” you ask, voice a little muffled from being pressed into the crook of his neck.

max takes a shockingly long time to respond.

“um… saturday?” he says slowly.

you give him a weird look.

“well yes…but it’s also your birthday!” you exclaim.

“oh!” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “i totally forgot!”

“no way,” you say incredulously.

“yes way,” max replies, tucking you into his side with an arm around you.

leave it up to your boyfriend to forget his own birthday.

“well,” you state after a beat of silence of looking at the popcorn ceiling of his apartment. “good thing we still have, like, sixteen hours left to do whatever you want- and we basically have unlimited budget- so go crazy!”

“hmm,” he says.

“anywhere you’d like, really- bali, the hamptons, paris, dubai, maldives, bora bora,” you suggest helpfully. “or all of them?”

max thinks for second.

“how about monaco?”

you blink confusedly.

“so… right here?”

“yeah,” he responds.

you shrug.

“sure, that’s fine too!”

deborah, or danica, or whatever her name was, babbles on as you and max stand on the stairs awkwardly.

“an inside source has also relayed to us that you might have bought your boyfriend an abt audi rs6, legacy edition for his birthday- an insanely rare and expensive car which only has 200 made in the entire world!

an abt-legacy what? you can’t help but think, what the hell was that?

once you get dolled up with your 12-step get-ready process and max pulls on his usual clothes (white shirt + unfortunate-looking skinny jeans), you both hop in max’s trusty little yellow renault clio rs. of course, like the cat lover he was, max refused to accept any expensive material gifts from you, and instead requested to visit the cat shelter as a birthday “gift.” you guess you would probably have to return the tag heuer watch in your bedside drawer that you had gotten him plus the keys to that yacht that was currently sitting in the monaco bay that you thought he would like.

max whistles a cheerful tune as he types in the cat shelter address onto his phone’s navigation app as you try your best to think of the best way to approach your assistant and tell him to return the yacht that he might have spent the last week negotiating with some old rich prick to buy. his phone makes a small “ding” and prompts him to back out of the tiny garage underneath his apartment, which he does with surprising ease. the ride to the shelter is pretty smooth, except that tiny part where this dumb guy with an all-black ferrari with a red ‘16’ on the side runs the red light, almost t-bones your boyfriend, and then proceeds to stop diagonally in the middle of the road with the most rancid parking job.

your boyfriend walks into the cat shelter with you in tow. he passes right past the front desk, waves to the man playing sudoku on his phone, and then proceeds navigates the halls like he’s been there a million times. (actually, he might have) you pass row after row of cats in little kennels that your boyfriend somehow knows the names of, before coming to a stop in front of a young lady filling little formula bottles with milk. she has at least three cats worth of cat fur all over her paw-print sweater.

“max!” she remarks, looking a little too thrilled to see him. “how are you? i haven't seen you since, like, last tuesday!”

looking to you, her smile drops significantly.

“oh, and… who is this?”

“hi, i’m max’s girlfriend,” you articulate, answering her question. you reach your hand out to shake, but she pointedly ignores it.

“great…” she says fakely. “um, so how may i help you guys?”

max seems to not notice. instead, he has a wide smile pasted on his face.

“well, it’s actually my birthday today, and i would like to spread kindness by making a donation to my favorite cat shelter!” he announces.

ten minutes later, you find yourself signing a check that is made out for the ‘monaco meow manor.’

max twiddles his pen around his fingers.

“how much should i put it down as?” he asks, pen hovering above the empty line on the check.

you shrug.

“i don’t know, it’s your birthday, maxie. you choose.”

the lady who was obviously into max and the sudoku guy at the front eyes the both of you from their place at the front desk.

you watch as max writes down a 3300 on the piece of paper. he glances at you quickly. when you raise an eyebrow at him, he turns back and adds two more zeroes at the end. but, then he proceeds to place the commas all wrong.

“that says 3,300,00, max,” you say, pointing to the obviously misplaced commas.

“oh,” he says. “i can’t really erase it- it’s pen.”

the lady, whose scowl has disappeared, and the guy, who sudoku puzzle has long been abandoned, whips around after hearing this number, jaws dropped.

ignoring them, you take the pen from max’s hand.

“here,” you say, adding another neat zero to the end of max’s blocky numbers so it reads 3,300,000.

“okay, great, thanks!” your boyfriend says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

he then turns to the lady and hands her the check.

“here’s the check. i hope all the kitties in here can all live long healthy lives and get everything they ever need!”

the two people at the desk look like they are about to pass out.

the lady clutches at the check with a white-knuckled hand and profusely thanks the pair of you.

you fight the urge to roll your eyes. oh, now she pays attention to you.

max, oblivious, beams, before taking your hand and leading you back out to his little yellow car.

“helping the kitties- check!” he declares.

you can’t help but smile and pull max into a searing kiss in front of the little cat shelter that was about to become the best-funded feline sanctuary in monaco, and most likely france too.

you don’t even have a chance to respond to danica’s inquiry about the complicated-sounding car that you supposedly “bought” for max before she rambles on.

“i bet you bought your little boyfriend the most luxurious foods too!” she spouts. “wagyu beef, spaghetti with saffron, caviar- ooh! maybe a glass of moët?”

“i’m not telling youuuuu!” max trills, leaping around the tiny living room of his monaco apartment with his phone held high above his head.

you don’t know whether to start raging in annoyance from your place on the scraggly carpet or to laugh at your boyfriend twirling on the lumpy sofa, phone screen purposely held away from you. jimmy only aggravates the situation by butting his head directly at your shin.

“max! is it a crime to want know what we are going to eat for dinner??” you shout, exasperated.

max somehow does a perfect pirouette off of the sofa (???) and smiles at you.

“no, but it should be a crime to look so pretty,” he says, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. you try and bat him away, but he is faster. he leaps up, cackling, and bolts away. his apartment isn’t that big, just his kitchen, living room, and his single bedroom, so you take your time hoisting yourself off the carpet. you resist the urge to punt jimmy away from your shin like a football, and instead gingerly step over him before sprinting over to max’s bedroom.

he awaits behind his bedroom door, and literally tackles you to his bed, pinning you underneath him.

its hard to stay mad at max when he’s giggling like a little kid and looking at you with those impossibly blue eyes that crinkled in the corners while he laughs.

“i hate you,” you say with no heat.

“mhm, i’m sure you do,” he says, all the sudden sobering up. he leans his head down and nips at your neck.

you both know where this always leads.

max’s white shirt disappears within seconds like the sight of a f1 car by the grandstands, and soon enough, yours does too.

before you can do anything, though, the doorbell rings.

your boyfriend pulls off of you, albeit hesitantly.

“foods here, i guess,” he says, pulling his shirt back on like he wasn’t about to whip off his pants two seconds ago.

you roll your eyes as max goes to fetch the food while you get presentable again.

when you pad into the kitchen, you genuinely expect to see the world’s best chef tossing vegetables a meter in the air, considering how secretive max was about the birthday dinner you both were having.

instead, max sits at the table with a ripped bag that displays a tell-tale green ubereats sticker, along with a few black plastic boxes that takes up half of the table space.

your boyfriend rips the lids off with a flourish, showing you the contents.

“my favoriteeeeeeee!” he chirps, gesturing to thin slices of beef carpaccio laid out prettily in the container, fragrant tomato soup in another plastic bowl, and two cupcakes.

it was kind of a weird combination, but hey, if max liked it, you weren’t gonna argue with it.

you grab utensils for the both of you, and dig in.

when the dregs of the tomato soup is all that's left in your bowl, the beef carpaccio is reduced to a few stray capers and lemon juice, and the wrapper is all that’s left of the cupcake, you lay back contently in your chair.

“you know, “ you state, “i could’ve flyed in the best beef carpaccio maker in the world, the best tomato soup chef ever, and like, gordon ramsey for the cupcakes and had them make this for you.”

“eh,” he says, also laying back in his seat, feeling full and happy, “ubereats from the restaurant three blocks down is honestly just as good too.”

danica was still not done.

“the parties must have been wild for max's birthday, too!” she raves. “with your influence, i bet all the celebs were there! kim k, rihanna, carlos alcaraz, oprah winfrey, lebron james, johnny depp, billie ellish- shall i go on?

no, you think to yourself. no, you shouldn’t.

feeling content, you flop onto max’s bed. your boyfriend slides onto the mattress next to you, allowing you to snuggle into his soft body. you inhale the smell of his cologne, and a feeling of content drapes over your body like a warm blanket.

“happy birthday, again, max,” you mutter, voice muffled in his chest. you slowly slide a hand suggestively into his shirt.

“thanks,” he says. he pauses a moment before getting up, effectively making your hand drop out. “i think i’d like to play a video game right now.”

“oh,” is all you can think to say. you loved your boyfriend very much, but sometimes he just could not understand context clues.

“are you sure?” you ask as he sets up his gaming system, loading in f123. “we could do something else…” you trail off slowly, seeing if he could pick up what you were putting down.

“yeah,” he says, eyes trained on the tv. he scrolls through a bunch of men in racing suits, and you spot a like, two with your company’s sign, big and bold, across their chest. huh, you kind of forgot your company sponsored f1. you squint your eyes at the white lettering displaying their names- sergio perez and daniel ricciardo. they seemed like pretty successful dudes, looking at their stats. max clicks on daniel’s profile, and jumps back onto the bed next to you as the loading screen pops up, still oblivious to your intentions.

he let him zoom through a track named mug jello or something like that for the better half of an hour before making another move, since it was his birthday, after all.

“do you want to watch netflix and... chill?” you suggest, nudging max.

“one second,” he responds, as the stopwatch thing at the side of the screen turns entirely purple. a checkered flag fills the screen, and the guy with the redbull racing suit appears, drinking champagne out of a shoe. “woohoo!” he says, beaming down at you, who has now draped yourself over his lap. “i won!”

you blink at him. how was being in his lap not obvious enough?

“oh, yeah, sure, we can watch a movie.” he says hurriedly, misjudging the seriously? look on your face.

max gently moves you out of his lap as he changes the tv channels to netflix.

when he turns back around, you have your shirt off, sitting suggestively on the bed.

your boyfriend laughs.

“is it really that hot in the room? i can turn on the ac if you want,” he offers helpfully.

reaching over, he opens his window, effectively blasting your semi-naked body with a blast of cold monaco wind that frequented the coast at night. you swear to god, if you get sick tomorrow-

you finally give up your attempts after max switches on a film called “crazy rich asians.” you snuggle into him innocently as the movie starts, and honestly, the beginning is kind of good.

you are right in the middle of the scene where the movie’s main character, rachel, is getting a makeover by her friend, peik lin, and her ridiculous family when you catch max staring at you.

“hey, baby,” he whisper-yells, nudging you.

“mmm?” you respond, fully intrigued as Rachel tries on dress after dress.

“do you want to..?”

you don’t really comprehend what he is saying as you are too focused on an intense emotional scene that pops up on the screen.

“huh?” you say distractedly.

max’s mouth latches to your neck.

you manage to tear your eyes away from the screen to realize what max is doing.

oh.

you notice are still shirtless and your boyfriends hands were now wandering to places that were not so family-friendly.

damn it, you curse silently, the movie was just getting good!

still, you can’t help to give in to max’s urges.

pretty soon, the screen glazes over in black. a prompt pops up: are you still watching?

the brunette interviewer beams at you and max, awaiting a response. the microphone that she holds is shoved a little too close to your face for comfort. seeing your silent form, her face drops into a scowl.

“no comment?” she sniffs in disdain.

turning to max, she prods the microphone towards his lips.

“you?” she snaps.

your boyfriend shrugs.

“all i can say is that my birthday yesterday was simply lovely.”

taglist: @sunny44 @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @xjval @fellowwomenlover @ironmaiden1313

@phobiccneel @comicalivy @amz824 @gloriousartisanpastacroissant @mastermindbaby

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf fic #f1 imagine #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #mv1 x y/n #mv1 x you #mv1 x reader #📝

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lizzobetumblin · 8 months ago

Text

Melissa hated her feelings.

She buried them in a chest in the 5th grade (along with her ability to express them). Other peoples' feelings on the other hand was her forte. She could process, decipher and regurgitate other peoples emotions effortlessly. This gift could’ve taken her through college, all the way to a degree in psychology. Distinguished Dr. Jefferson with a PhD and a cozy office and impressive roster of high-profile, weallthy clients was a shiny idea. Fate would have a different hand for Melissa her talents were exhausted on mediating family fights, friend group drama, and charming her way out of confronting her own feelings.

“Feelings.” Even saying it out loud to herself seemed silly. Something reserved for ‘cry babies’ and water signs. Typical Sunday nights started tame, reading or writing fan-fiction and drinking cranapple juice. And then like clock work her father would yell her name,

‘MELISSA!!!’ Emotionless, she’d get up dust off her Winnie the Pooh shorts and make her way downstairs. On the long walk down the hall to the stairs leading to the living room brawl, she’d go through her check list:

1.) Don’t cry.

2.) Stay neutral; Deescalate

3.)Don’t take anything personal. This isn’t about you

She padded down the carpeted stairs in her old soft socks to see her mother tightlipped and tear streaked thinking,

‘she broke rule number 1’. Her father, Michael was proud and angry, his big belly filled with self righteousness. She knew he would be unyielding in his resolve and at this point her only option was to deescalate.

‘Rule number 2’. Then her sister the water sign and calamity for the evening sat on the floor nearly fetal, face red and raw with emotion.

‘Its not your fault’ Melissa wanted to say ‘You just didn’t follow the rules… you’re loved.’ But she couldn’t say that because she’d be breaking rule number 3. It wasn’t about how Melissa felt. Even though she felt like screaming,

“VANESSA, YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG. DAD—YOU JUST HAVE PENT UP ANGER BECAUSE YOU GREW UP IN THE HOOD OF DETROIT AS A BLACK MAN IN THE 60s AND 70s. YOU NEED A HEALTHY OUTLET LIKE.. I DONT KNOW… THERAPY?!?!?! THIS IS A WASTE OF ALL OF OUR TIME. I LITERALLY JUST WROTE THE BEST SAILOR SATURN x CHIBI USA FANFICTION EVER AND THIS IS KILLING MY VIBE!”

Instead, she decide to hear every one out. She decided to help. To calm her dragon of a father down. To be a translator for her emotional sister. To not take it personal. To stay neutral. To not cry.

9 years later, at her fathers funeral she still never broke the rules. She played her flute and spoke at his memorial. She was present for her mother because it wasn’t about her. When other peoples' emotions bubbled up she stayed neutral. She sat through both services and she did not cry. It wasn’t until she excused herself to make a phone call outside did she collapse onto the stairs of the funeral home and weep alone in the cold Detroit snow.

It’s okay to break the rules sometimes, she reminded herself. As long as no one else sees it.

Traumas began to compact on Melissa, as they do. Humans tend to collect traumas like pebbles on a long hike. We toss them into our backpacks and keep moving forward. Some hikers would falter, but Melissa was built for this. She’d carried the stones of her family’s traumas uphill for years. She was strong.

When men began to befriend and reject her, saying ‘you’re too good for me’ but not too good to make them feel good. She carried that.

When childhood friends began to cut off the strings of her heart, saying ‘We can’t be friends anymore’. She carried that.

When her family separated like dandelion seeds, it seemed like they’d never be together again. Melissa slept on so many couches, floors and car seats sometimes she didn’t know if she’d see them again.

She carried that.

Dying was never an option though sometimes she didn’t mind the thought of it. Peace and warmth were two things she’d desperately yearned and hadn’t felt fully since the womb. Then one night in the pitch black of the hot, sweaty, roach-infested studio in southeast Houston she slept in she wondered:

‘Why can’t I break the rules?’ She’d seen everyone else in her life break them like popsicle sticks. And she didn’t just want to break the rules, she wanted to break them boldly and loudly and annoyingly and honestly and sloppily like every one else gets to do. It was in that moment, tucked in a thin jacket inside of an 8-foot high instrument cubby in the inky darkness—it hit her.

‘Is my suffering for a high purpose? Or is my suffering trying to kill me?’

She cried.

She escalated.

She took it personal.

But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to scream in a microphone in a sea of shadowy faces. She drank whiskey and wove her pain into rock music.

‘Music is my boyfriend’ she declared. The only man that kept his baggage to hisself. And it healed her. It gave her voice reason and purpose.

The pebble-laden hike became lighter with time. The incline eventually evened out to flat, beautiful landscapes where the breeze finally met her back. She knew it wasn’t gonna be easy or sunshine but even the rain cleansed her and it was beautiful too.

Somewhere in the rain she decided rules were meant to be built and broken. Like trust and love and friendships and families. Because every thing deserves the opportunity to change and grow.

So... She broke rule number 1 on stage while singing a beautiful song. Dr. Jefferson (PhD) screamed for her to stop but she didn’t listen and the tears flowed like rivers of emotion down her cheeks.

Rule number 2 was broken when she grew older and saw the injustices of the world. Marching with hundreds in protest she realized not everything needs to be pacified.

And one day when she finally fell in love, she broke rule number 3. No matter how much training she’d done she couldn't help but take every thing her lover said and did personal. But it was ok. Because in all her resistance she realized breaking rules was her power.

Melissa began to fall for her feelings. Her feelings gave life purpose. They weren’t always logical, as feelings seldom are. They were sloppy and embarrassing and rude and so fucking uncomfortable. But they were hers. And they were real. And when she sat alone sipping wine, staring at the moon…They were the only ones still by her side. Ready to break the rules for her because they loved her.

And she finally loved them back.

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cartierre · 1 year ago

Text

BARBIE | ob3

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU ollie bearman x fem!actress!reader

♡ liked by ariana_greenblatt, barbiethemovie, olliebearman and 485,983 others

tagged: americaferrera, ariana_greenblatt, issarae, alexandrashipppp, rituarya, harinef, ncutigatwa, sharon_rooney, nicolacoughlan, anacruzkayne, helenmirren, barbiethemovie

yourusername so so excited to finally see this film out in theatres! this has been such a wonderful journey and one of the best sets i've had the pleasure to work on! let's go barbie, let's go party!

view all 3,293 comments

user1 aahhh this film is going to be THE film of 2023

user2 i need to watch this asap! ⤷ user3 had the chance to watch it already and i cann tell you it's so good

olliebearman man, i wish i had someone to watch the movie with... ⤷ yourusername that could be arranged

user4 OLLIE? ⤷ user5 ollie the rizzler

♡ liked by arthur_leclerc, yourusername, dennis_hauger and 57,394 others

tagged: prema_team, ferraridriveracademy

olliebearman tough weekend here in budapest... but we'll bounce back stronger in spa!

view all 382 comments

user6 keep your head up, your time to shine will come soon!

user7 let's just get them at spa!!

yourusername maybe you just need a lucky charm by your side? ⤷ olliebearman maybe i do ;)

user8 did i just see y/n in the comments ⤷ user9 their flirting is not very subtle

user10 still proud of you!

♡ liked by americaferrera, barbiethemovie, olliebearman and 465,981 others

tagged: americaferrera, issarae, rituarya, ncutigatwa, nicolacoughlan, dualipa, barbiethemovie

yourusername she's everything, he's just ken.

view all 2,398 comments

user11 you looked so stunning on that red (pink) carpet!

user12 the dress code was dress coding

user13 she really embodied barbie at that premiere

olliebearman does this barbie need a ken? ⤷ yourusername are you kenough to handle a barbie like me?

user14 y/n and ollie are really smth else in their comments ⤷ user15 real just fucking kiss already

♡ liked by ariana_greenblatt, olliebearman, frederikvestiofficial and 471,293 others

tagged: olliebearman

yourusername this barbie is a wag!

view all 3,948 comments

user16 they really got us huh

user17 the way they were dating all along... it's actually a really funny prank

olliebearman my job is car ⤷ yourusername and what a good job you do at car! ⤷ olliebearman thank you barbie :)

user18 real life barbie and ken ⤷ user19 ong

user20 adorable adorable adorable!

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lunaritex · 29 days ago

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𓏲࣪ ִֶָ ︎ִֶָ SOUND OF PRADA 𖤐. — nishimura riki.

↺ CONTENT: idol au, both reader and riki are idols, reader is female, explicit suggestive content, make-out session, belt-pulling, kissing.

↺ FROM HYE: yes, im using the same title as the heeseung version because i can't be bothered to come up with a new title lmao. @riekiss

Draped in a sleek Prada dress that shimmered under the golden lights, you stepped out of the car, waving your hand at the public as you took the lead down the red carpet. Your fellow group members followed behind you, moving in a neat and orderly line. Cameras flashed nonstop without stopping, capturing your stunning appearance until you entered the club where another wave of cameras had been awaiting you. Upon the staff’s instruction, all of you had to take a few individual and group photos before you could fully enter. Once that was done, all of you moved to the bar.

Eyes flickered across the crowded room, searching for a face you knew too well. It had been too long since you had seen him, since shared moments were reduced to texts and fleeting video calls. The memory of Riki’s playful smirk and the warmth of his dark eyes washed over you like a whispered secret. And then, as if conjured by the force of your thoughts, you saw him—entering the club with his members. You were captivated by his figure, watching as he confidently moved through the crowd with Heeseung resting a hand on his shoulder.

You find it adorable with how Riki’s face brightened up the moment his eyes locked onto yours. He exchanged a few quick words with Heeseung before quickening his pace, wanting to be near you as soon as possible. Your members shared a mischievous giggle when they saw the rapidly approaching figure and left you alone, not before sending you a teasing wink. You did not have sufficient time to react when you were embraced in a bone-crushing hug from your partner. You returned the gesture, briefly running your hand through his neatly-styled hair.

It was with reluctance that he pulled away but he remained close, close enough that you could see the mischief and happiness dancing in his eyes. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You raised an eyebrow, biting back a grin. “Oh? I could say the same, Mr. Prada’s favorite ambassador.”

Riki chuckled, the sound making your heart stutter. “Well, I had to dress up nicely since I’ll be seeing you again.”

His gaze roamed over you, taking in every detail of your outfit. The fitted satin dress in black hugged your frame, its off-shoulder design showcasing your collarbones and delicate silver necklace; the very same necklace he had gifted you on your first date. The slit along one side revealed just a hint of leg, giving you an air of elegance tempered with a touch of daring. His eyes softened at the sight, a flicker of admiration and something more intense sparking as he took in the way the fabric shimmered under the lights.

Before he could say a word, you smirked and stepped closer, hooking your finger through the belt hoop. The action made him freeze, eyes widening slightly as he shifted his gaze back to yours.

“Stop staring at me like that, pretty boy,” you said, voice playful.

A lopsided grin broke out on Riki’s face, the tips of his ears turning faintly red. “Can’t help it,” he murmured, leaning in so his words ghosting against your ear. “You make it impossible not to.”

His grin softened into something deeper, his gaze searching yours as he took a step closer. The chatter and music around you seemed to blur into white noise. His eyes darted down to your lips, a flash of longing darkening his features. Without another moment’s hesitation, he leaned in, closing the space between you with desperation that made your breath hitched.

You rested your hands on his broad shoulders, having to tilt your head up slightly to meet his eager lips. Riki rested one hand on your waist, drawing circles through the fabric of your dress. The heat of his breath mingled with yours, the brush of his lips igniting sparks in your stomach. He cupped your jaw gently, fingers tracing the line of your cheek. Shivers ran down your spine when he bit down on your bottom lip, aggressively shoving his tongue down your throat as he pushed you back until you were pinned against the wall.

Thankfully, the both of you are in a secluded corner of the club but that does not mean your current position remains completely unseen from the public. Both of you knew you will get a good scolding from your respective managers tomorrow and how the entire internet will have a breakdown if they caught wind of your relationship. Between the two of you, you have a sense of responsibility but with how Riki was practically sucking the air out of your lungs, you could not find it in yourself to stop him.

Instead, you allowed him to take as much as he pleased. A whine was ripped out from your throat when Riki explored your mouth, as if he had been starved for a month. You were starting to feel light-headed and breathless, your lungs begging for oxygen. But no matter how you tried to pull away, he kept chasing after your lips, as if he could not get enough of your sweet taste. You tugged on his hair, trying to get him to stop but he refused, your action eliciting a pleased groan that does wonder to your heart.

Eventually, he took mercy and stopped ravaging you with his lips. His previously neatly-styled hair was now messed up. His plump lips were swollen and red. There was nothing but desire written all over his face as he greedily drank in your current state. Riki grabbed your wrist, pulling you through the crowd and to where the backdoor is.

“Where are we going?” You asked, despite already knowing the answer.

He shots you a smirk over his shoulder. “Somewhere quiet and without eyes prying so I can continue kissing you.”

#ꨄ writings #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #nishimura riki imagines #nishimura niki x reader #riki x reader #riki x you #riki x y/n #nishimura niki #ni ki x reader #ni ki x you #ni ki imagines

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cutielando · 12 days ago

Text

grammy | l.n.

synopsis: in which you win your first Grammy and Lando is there to cheer you on

a/n: based on this request!

my masterlist

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the cozy living room. You were curled up on the couch with Lando, his arm draped lazily over your shoulders. The air was buzzing with anticipation, as today was the day the Grammy nominations were announced.

You’d been in the industry for a few years, building your career step by step, and this year had been your biggest yet.

Lando’s phone vibrated on the coffee table, drawing your attention.

“Hey, it’s time,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling with excitement.

He leaned forward to grab the remote and switched on the TV, setting it to the livestream of the nominations.

Your heart pounded in your chest as the announcer went through various categories. Lando’s hand found yours, squeezing reassuringly.

“No matter what happens, you’re already amazing,” he whispered, his voice soft and full of sincerity.

The camera cut to the next category: Best New Artist. You held your breath, fingers tightening around Lando’s as the nominees were called out one by one. Then, your name was spoken.

The room erupted with sound — your gasp, the announcer’s voice, Lando’s triumphant cheer.

“You did it!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a hug so tight it lifted you off the couch. His happiness for you shone brighter than any trophy.

“I can’t believe it,” you said, laughing and crying at the same time. “It feels like a dream.”

Lando cupped your face in his hands, his eyes boring into yours with pride.

“It’s not a dream. You deserve this. All those late nights, the hours in the studio — this is your moment.”

Before you could respond, the announcer continued, listing the nominees for Song of the Year. Your song title rang through the room, and your jaw dropped. Another one.

Lando let out an even louder whoop, spinning you around before setting you down gently.

“Two nominations! You’re incredible,” he said, his eyes glistening with emotion.

You laughed, overwhelmed, feeling the warmth of his love and support wash over you.

“It wouldn’t feel this special without you here.”

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“And I’ll be here, every step of the way,” he promised, resting his forehead against yours. “Cheering the loudest, just like today.”

♡♡♡♡♡

The weeks leading up to the Grammys were a blur of rehearsals, interviews, and fittings. Lando was with you through it all, standing proudly by your side, whether it was at red carpet fittings or late-night dinners after long days. The night of the show arrived, and the energy was electric. The car ride to the venue was filled with quiet, supportive glances and fingers intertwined for comfort.

As you stepped onto the red carpet, the cameras flashed, and reporters called your name. Lando, dressed in a sharp suit, looked dashing and relaxed, but there was a glint of pride in his eyes that he reserved just for you. He stood just behind as you answered questions, always close enough for you to feel his presence.

When a reporter asked how he felt about being your date, he grinned and said, “I’m just here to support my superstar.”

Inside the theater, the two of you sat among the biggest names in music. Lando squeezed your hand every time your category came up, a silent promise that he was with you no matter what. The lights dimmed, and the announcer’s voice rang out over the room.

“For Best New Artist, the Grammy goes to…”

You held your breath, the seconds stretching into eternity. Then, they called your name. The room erupted into applause, and Lando shot up, clapping and cheering louder than anyone else.

He hugged you tightly, whispering “Go get them, champ” on your ear as he pushed you towards the stage.

Walking up to the stage was surreal. You thanked your team, your family, and finally, you glanced down at Lando. “And thank you to the one who kept me grounded and believed in me when I doubted myself,” you said, the crowd reacting with warm smiles as Lando’s face lit up.

Back in your seat, he kissed your temple and whispered, “I’m so proud of you, I could burst.”

The evening continued, and when Song of the Year came around, you were already on a high. The presenter opened the envelope and read out.

“And the Grammy for Song of the Year goes to…”

Your name was called again, the room roaring to life. Tears pricked your eyes as you stood, glancing at Lando, who looked like he couldn’t decide whether to jump for joy or cry.

“You’re killing it!” he exclaimed as you hugged him tightly, his voice full of awe. “I knew you could.”

The second speech was a blur, filled with gratitude and emotion, but when you returned to your seat, Lando pulled you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“You did it, love. Two Grammys. This is just the beginning,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

The show wrapped up, and the two of you found yourselves on the dance floor at the after-party, surrounded by laughter and music.

Lando spun you around, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I think this night deserves a toast,” he said, raising a glass.

“To dreams coming true,” you said, clinking your glasses together.

“And to the most talented, beautiful, Grammy-winning woman I know,” Lando added, his eyes shimmering with pride.

As the night wound down, you rested your head on his shoulder, exhaustion mingling with pure bliss.

“Thank you for being my biggest fan,” you whispered.

“Always,” he said, brushing his lips against your hair. “And next year, we’re coming back for more.”

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helioooss · 2 months ago

Text

fade into you

synopsis: you meet hollywood star, jennie kim, on a sleepless night…the first of many…you both bring comfort to each other.

w/c: 8k+

warnings: slow fckn burn, it’s too long. y/n is lonely, jennie’s lonely…and you’re both just yearning for each other.

a/n: ive been working on this for ages and obviously got carried away with how long it is

Los Angeles is never quiet. At night, the city hums with a different kind of energy; neon lights, angry car horns and the low murmur of people who don’t want the day to end. From your apartment’s rooftop, the party below sounds like a distant wave, layers of brick and glass muffling all the noise.

You’re usually never present at these things, but tonight, your neighbour, Irene - a nepo baby producer, invited you to one of her parties after bumping into her earlier.

It’s funny, really. You live in the city of stars, but it never felt like your world — you don’t belong to a galaxy of velvet ropes, red carpets and flashing cameras. And so, you decided to step out of the room, immediately wandering to your spot.

Your fingers graze the edge of the cold metal railing as you take a deep breath, hoping the fresh air might clear the maze of thoughts running through your head. Insomnia has a way of weaving itself into your bones, and tonight is no exception. The weight of your sleepless nights presses on your eyelids, but you know sleep won’t come.

It never does when you need it.

Just as you fish a pack of cigarettes out of your pocket, beginning to settle into the quietness, the soft click of a door opening behind you startles you out of your zone.

Someone steps out onto the rooftop, their presence breaking the stillness. You don’t look right away, assuming it’s another party guest taking a break from the noise below. But then, you feel it; the odd sense of familiarity.

A voice follows, soft and hesitant. “Mind if I join you?”

You turn towards her, and there she stands in all her glory: Jennie Kim, Hollywood’s darling. Even with only the shadows of the moonlight illuminating the place, there’s no mistaking her - sleek black dress and all.

You recognise her immediately, but you don’t react the way most people would. There’s no gasp of surprise, no wide-eyed admiration.

“Go ahead,” you motion towards the empty space beside you, putting the cigarettes back into your pocket. “All yours.”

Jennie looks momentarily taken aback by your nonchalance, but she moves closer, leaning against the railing a few feet away. For a moment, neither of you speaks. It’s not awkward, just quiet.

It’s the kind of silence that you both seek.

“I didn’t expect anyone else to be up here,” she says after a while, her eyes scanning the city below.

“Neither did I,” you reply. You glance at her, studying the way her fingers fidget slightly with the hem of her jacket. For all the fame, all the attention she must be used to, Jennie seems surprisingly normal. “I’m usually up here alone.”

She’s still gazing out at the city when she speaks again. “I needed to get away for a bit. The noise gets too overwhelming.”

You hum, understanding what she means. “I know the feeling, everyone down there is just too caught up in their worlds. And it’s not mine, sadly.”

Jennie tilts her head slightly, as if your words resonate with her. The laughter below rings louder for a moment before it dies down again, leaving the two of you in a strange bubble of calm.

For a few more moments, neither of you speak a word - entangled in the comfortable silence that breaks with the occasional gust of wind and traffic.

“I’m Jennie, by the way,” she says out of a sudden, her voice a whisper; almost uncertain.

You smile at her. “I know.”

Jennie’s lips mirror yours, the first one you’ve seen since the party started. “Heard good things about me, I hope?”

This earns her a chuckle from you as you shake your head. “Hmm, I’ll keep that mystery to myself.”

There’s a flicker of amusement in her eyes at your response, studying you for a moment longer, as if trying to figure out why you’re not treating her the same way everyone else does - but she seems to appreciate it, because when she speaks again, her voice is lighter, less guarded.

“Do you live here?” she asks, brows furrowed and all, her curiosity breaking through her reserved demeanor. “I saw you at Irene’s party earlier.”

“Yeah, a few floors down,” you answer, glancing back at the building behind you. “Don’t know why Irene invited me and why I showed up, honestly, I knew it wasn’t going to be my crowd.”

“Of course Irene did,” she laughs. “I’m glad you came, though. Who else would be on this dodgy rooftop with me?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you grin, ignoring the latter comment. “I come up here when I need to clear my head, it’s a great spot.”

Jennie hums in agreement. “I don’t get to be alone much. There’s always someone around, always wanting something from me.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. Her world is one you’ve only ever seen from an outside perspective, but the way she says it, there’s a weariness in her voice that feels too familiar.

You’ve felt it too, for different reasons.

“I guess it’s hard to find quiet when you’re…well, you,” you say carefully, not wanting to pry too much. “You’re a star.”

Jennie lets out a quiet laugh, though there’s no real humour in it. “Yeah, it’s hard to find anything real sometimes.”

Her words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, you see the person behind the fame.

Jennie Kim, the Hollywood star, is just Jennie right now, someone who’s tired, someone who’s trying to escape, just like you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

That night is the first of many.

The rooftop becomes your shared sanctuary, a place where both of you can escape the noise of the world below. You don’t plan these encounters, they just happen.

Sometimes you come up, expecting to be alone, and find Jennie already there, sitting quietly on one of the lounge chairs. Other times, she arrives after you, silently joining you by the railing.

The conversations are never forced. They start slowly, like the flicker of a match that eventually catches fire. Jennie talks about her life, the constant pressure of living up to expectations, how exhausting it is to always be in the public eye.

You’re surprised by how candid she is, how she doesn’t shy away from talking about the things that bother her the most.

“I love acting,” she says one night, her voice raw in the darkness. “But sometimes I feel like I’m losing myself in it. Like I’m becoming this version of myself that’s not really me.”

You listen quietly, nodding as you try to understand what that must feel like. “I get it. I mean, I don’t know what it’s like to be famous, but I know what it’s like to feel disconnected from yourself.”

Jennie looks at you then, her coffee-coloured eyes searching yours. “Do you ever feel like you’re not good enough? Like no matter what you do, it’s never enough?”

The question catches you off guard, but you don’t hesitate to answer. “All the time. I’m a writer, and every day I feel like I’m failing at it. Like everything I write is just mediocre and no one wants to read it.”

She nods, her gaze softening. “I read it.”

Your heart nearly drops, blood rushing to your cheeks. “You do?”

“I adore your writing, and believe me, others do too.”

There’s comfort in her words, a weight that presses down on both of you as you sit there in the quiet of the night. You never expected to have this kind of connection with someone like Jennie Kim, but here you are, two people who feel lost in different ways.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

A few days had passed since that unexpected rooftop meeting with Jennie, and you’ve been trying your best not to think about it too much - brushing it off as a surreal, once-in-a-lifetime moment.

You let out a sigh as you press open on the elevator, a coffee and a book on the other hand. You’re hoping to spend the rest of the afternoon catching up on work, but the doors reveal Irene in her designer boots and oversized sunglasses.

She flashes you a wide grin, her energy filling the small space instantly. “Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite writer. Went Houdini at my party again, did you?”

You chuckle, rubbing your nape. “Yeah, sorry about that. All the stars in the room hurt my eyes, you know?”

She waves her hand dismissively, her signature rings glittering. “No dramas, you didn’t miss much. Drunk producers trying to convince everyone they’re geniuses and some rookie actor crying in the corner because he didn’t get the role he wanted.”

You snort, taking a sip of your coffee. “Sounds like quite the event.”

“I know, just boring new Hollywood stuff,” she responds, leaning against the wall. “Jennie was there too, though, surprisingly.”

You blink in surprise, caught off guard by the mention of her. “Jennie?”

The elevator doors open and closes again when none of you move, too indulged in the conversation now.

“Yeah, Jennie Kim. You know, international superstar, face of like a hundred different brands, has a smile that could end wars; that Jennie,” Irene teases, raising an eyebrow. “I heard you two met on the rooftop the other night.”

“Hmm, we did,” you reply slowly, not sure where Irene is going with this. “It was kind of by accident.”

“Uh-huh,” she’s smiling at you, like she knows something you don’t. “Funny thing about that, she was asking about you the next day.”

You have a surprised look written on your face. “She was?”

She lets out a dramatic sigh, flipping her hair over her shoulder as if this was the juiciest gossip she’d ever shared in her life. “You know, casual stuff. Like, ‘do you know Y/N well?’ and ‘what’s Y/N like?’ It was actually adorable.”

You stare at her, completely thrown off balance. “Why though?”

“I’m just saying, you must have made quite the impression. People don’t usually catch Jennie’s interest like that. It’s hard to break through the whole ‘world-famous celebrity’ thing she’s got going on, you feel?”

You let out a nervous chuckle, trying to downplay it as you ignore the flutter all over your chest. “I don’t know. We just talked for a bit, that’s all.”

Irene rolls her eyes in disbelief. “Oh sure, just a bit.”

Your face goes warm at the thought, and you quickly shake your head. “No, no. It’s not —“

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that one before,” she interrupts, holding her hands up as if she’d heard the excuse a thousand times. “But come on, Y/N, Jennie doesn’t ask about people she’s not interested in.“

You groan at that, not sure how to respond.

Her grin softens into something more genuine as she presses the elevator open. “Listen, you don’t have to close yourself to every person who knocks at your door. This whole time I’ve been this building, I’ve been in elevator rides with girls who were bawling their eyes out and I just know they came from your apartment.”

“How would you even know that?” you ask, defensive tone in your voice.

“They wear the same sad look on their face.” The doors slide open, and she steps out, leaving you to process everything she had said. “Oh, and Y/N?” she calls out after you, sticking her fingers out just before the doors can close.

“Yeah?”

“Try not to overthink it,” she adds with a playful smirk. “Jennie is interested in you. The rooftop meetings might turn into something more elevated if you know what I mean.”

You whine at her joke, and she bursts out laughing, the sound echoing in the hallway as the elevator doors slide shut, leaving you wondering what exactly you had gotten yourself into.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Jennie is different at night. Softer, more vulnerable than the poised and confident image you occasionally catch glimpses of on magazine covers or the news. Out here, with only the night sky and the cold breeze as witnesses, Jennie is just Jennie. And you, well, you aren’t a nameless, sleepless writer either.

You’re someone she seeks out, the only person she can talk to without having to put a mask on.

One night, you’re both sitting on the lounge chairs near the edge of the roof, the distant glow of the city illuminating the sky like a sea of fading stars.

The conversation has been low after not seeing each other for over a week, the both of you just drowning in your own thoughts. However, the only difference is that the silence between you is comfortable now; a result of the odd friendship you’d built over the weeks.

“Do you ever feel like you’re just…floating?” she finally breaks the silence, her voice barely above a whisper.

You turn your head slightly to face her, trying to understand what she means. Her skin is glowing under the moonlight, hair loose and tousled as it fell into gentle waves over her shoulder. “Floating?”

You think she’s beautiful.

“It’s like,” she pauses, searching for the right words. “Like you’re living, but not really living. Just…existing for the sake of it. Going through the same routine because that’s what’s expected of you.”

You don’t need to think long before answering. “Sometimes, I do. I think that’s what happens when you stop feeling connected to the things that you love.”

She shifts slightly in her seat, her expression thoughtful. “I used to love my job. Like I could become someone else and leave everything behind for a while. But now, now it feels like I’m just acting all the time. I barely know who I am.”

She’s opening up more tonight, more than she ever has. There’s something about the way she talks that makes you want to listen harder, to dig beneath the surface and understand what’s really troubling her.

“You feel like you’re stuck playing a role,” you suggest gently, watching her as she nods slowly.

“Exactly. Even when I’m not on set, I’m still Jennie Kim, the celebrity. Sometimes, I don’t want to be her. Sometimes, I just want to be…me. Whoever that is.”

You know what she means. In your own way, you’ve felt the same; lost in a sea of expectations, trying to live up to an image of yourself that you’re not even sure is real anymore.

“I think a lot of people feel that way,” you say gently. “Like they’re wearing a mask for the world, and it’s too hard to take it off.”

She lets out a quiet sigh, leaning her head back against the chair. “It gets exhausting, you know? Having to pretend all the time.“

There’s a tinge of sadness in her voice that makes your heart ache. You’ve always seen Jennie as the kind of person who has it all — fame, fortune, adoration from millions of people. But hearing her talk like this, you realise even those things can’t shield someone from the loneliness that comes with them.

“Why don’t you?”

She smiles, but it’s a tired smile. “I wish I could. Perhaps, one day.”

“Perhaps.”

The weight of her words settles over the two of you like a blanket, heavy and suffocating. You wish you could say something to make it better, but you know there’s no easy answer to what Jennie’s going through. She’s trapped in a world that demands everything from her, and there’s no simple way out.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say after a long silence, the words feeling inadequate.

She shakes her head, a soft smile on her face. “It’s not your fault.”

You sit together for a while longer, the night air cool against your skin. For the first time in a long while, you don’t feel the need to fill the silence with words.

Her presence is enough, and you hope, in some small way, that yours is enough for her too.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It’s a rare afternoon off for you, and you find yourself being dragged by Irene to a cozy outdoor café with Rosé, another pop star you had met through Irene sometime ago. The three of you settle into a comfortable rhythm over lunch, laughing and talking over plates of food that Irene ordered for the table, always with a flair of overconsumption.

“Okay, but seriously, who designed those shoes for that premiere?” Irene says, her voice full of exaggerated exasperation. She’s waving a fork in the air as she continues. “I mean, did they hate me? I almost broke an ankle just walking down the red carpet.”

Rosé chuckles, sipping her champagne, her eyes crinkling with amusement. “You’re lucky it didn’t turn into a meme,” she teases.

Irene gasps, pressing a hand to her chest in horror. “I could not imagine becoming a meme.”

You laugh at her, shaking your head as you poke your salad. “Oh no, what would happen?”

Rosé smiles at you, leaning in slightly. “So, Y/N, how’s work been? Have you finished that chapter you were talking about last time?”

You shrug, taking a sip of your coffee. “Still working on it. Just haven’t been sleeping lately.”

Irene smirks. “Oh, I bet I know why.”

Already knowing what was coming, you raise an eyebrow. “Irene, don’t even —“

“Jennie Kim,” she announces, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “And, might I add, she’s been asking about you again.”

Rosé’s eyes widens slightly, a curious smile playing on her lips as she glances between you and the producer. “Wait, Jennie? As in Jennie Jennie?”

You huff, sinking lower into your chair. “Yes, that Jennie. And no, it’s not what you’re thinking.”

Rosé tilts her head, clearly intrigued. “What’s there to think about? Jennie doesn’t usually talk about people unless they’re special.”

You shoot a glare at Irene, who’s beaming like she’d just uncovered the juiciest gossip in town. “Yeah, thanks for that. Jennie and I are just friends.”

“Uh-huh,” Irene says, clearly enjoying herself as she spears a piece of steak with her fork. “Friends that like hang out almost every night.”

Rosé giggles, leaning in closer. “Okay, now I have to know. Spill the details. What’s going on with you and her?”

You heave out a sigh, knowing there is no way you are getting out of this. “We met on the rooftop a while back during one of Irene’s parties. Since then, we’ve just been meeting up there. Talking, you know…late night conversations when her and I can’t sleep.”

“And she’s been asking about you,” Irene adds with a pointed look. “A lot.”

“Irene!”

Rosé laughs, covering her mouth. “Honestly, I’ve noticed Jennie’s been in a better mood lately. Like, even during backstage events, she seems lighter. Happier. I wonder if that has anything to do with you.”

You’re taken aback by Rosé’s observation. Jennie did seem happier lately, more relaxed, even when the weight of fame pressed down on her. But you never considered that your late night talks might have had anything to do with it.

“I don’t know about that,” you say, feeling a bit flustered. “We’re just talking. That’s all.”

Irene and Rosé exchanged amused glances, clearly not buying your attempts at downplaying it.

“Whatever you say,” Irene responds, smirking. “But I think it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that Jennie likes you. And, if you ask me, you should stop overthinking and just go for it.”

Rosé nods in agreement, her smile warm and inviting. “She’s a good person, Y/N. If she’s happier because of you, that says something.”

“She’s not going to hurt you,” Irene interjects with a lighter tone. “Please don’t hurt her too - she’s a lonely soul, that one. You both are, so I’m glad you found each other.”

You shift in your seat, feeling the weight of their words. Part of you wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, you had a bigger impact on Jennie than you realised.

But another part of you is still scared of what could happen if you got too close, if you let yourself fall for her. After all, love hadn’t been kind to you; so you closed your door on it.

“I’ll think about it,” you say, giving them a small smile. You roll your eyes as Irene and Rosé clinked their glasses; perhaps they were right. Maybe it’s time to stop overthinking and start letting things happen.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The nights blur together in a series of quiet conversations and shared solitude. You find yourself growing more comfortable around Jennie, and she around you. The walls between you have come down, and though you don’t say it aloud, you’ve both come to rely on these nights together.

It’s strange. You’ve never had a friendship like this, one that exists solely in the darkness, in the quiet of the night, away from the prying eyes of the world. By day, you’re still the same sleepless writer, struggling to meet deadlines, battling the constant feeling that you’re not good enough. But at night, up here with her, you feel a little more at peace. Even if sleep still eludes you, there’s just something comforting about your moments together.

One particularly clear night, she asks a question that catches you off guard.

“Why do you stay up here so late? Don’t you ever sleep?”

You laugh. “I wish. I don’t really sleep much these days. I don’t wanna rely on my tablets so much.”

Jennie frowns, a shade of concern in her eyes. “Insomnia?”

“Yeah,” you admit, your voice quieter now. “It’s been getting worse lately. I’ll lie in bed for hours, but my mind just won’t shut off. It’s like there’s too much going on in my head, and no matter what I do, I can’t get it to quiet down.”

Jennie watches you for a moment, her expression gentler. “That sounds awful.”

“It is,” you say, your gaze drifting back to the skyline. “It’s been making everything harder. I can’t focus during the day, and my writing’s been…so terrible, honestly. I’m barely functional most mornings.”

The words spill out before you can stop them, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve said too much, but she doesn’t judge you.

She just listens.

“I wish I could help.”

“You already do,” you reply, surprised by your own honesty. “These nights…talking with you, it helps. I don’t feel so alone.”

Jennie grins, and for the first time, it feels genuine, unburdened by the weight she usually carries. “I’m glad.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Time passes and the nights stretch on, and something between you begins to shift as you look back on your conversation with Irene and Rosé.

It’s subtle at first; small moments, fleeting glances, a brush of your hands as you pass each other by the railing. You don’t talk about it, but it’s there, lingering in the air between you like a secret neither of you is quite ready to admit.

One night, you find yourself standing closer to Jennie than usual, your arms almost touching as you both lean on the railing, looking out at the city below. The moon is particularly bright tonight, casting a soft glow over the rooftop, and the stars seem to be watching you, waiting.

You hadn’t seen her in weeks, and she greets you with boxes of pizza and a bottle of wine in her hand, telling you how much she hates fashion week.

“Have you ever wondered…” her tone is careful, almost hesitant as she pauses. “Have you ever wondered if we were meant to meet? Like, maybe we were supposed to find each other up here.”

You glance at her to find her looking at the city in front of you, studying the way her features soften in the moonlight, her dark eyes reflecting the glow of the city. There’s something vulnerable about her in this moment, something that makes your heart ache in a way you’re not ready to face.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “But I’m glad we did.”

“I missed you,” she admits. “Did you miss me?”

“I did, it feels lonely without you here now.”

Her gaze meets yours, and for a moment, the world seems to stop. The noise of the city fades into the background, and all you can hear is the steady beat of your own heart. There’s something electric in the air, something that pulls you closer to her, and before you can stop yourself, you lean in.

Your lips meet hers in a soft, hesitant kiss, and for a brief moment, everything falls away. The doubts, the fears, the sleepless nights; it all fades, leaving only the warmth of Jennie’s touch and the gentle press of her lips against yours.

But then reality crashes back in, and you pull away, your heart racing. “I can’t,” you whisper, stepping back. “I’m sorry, Jennie. I just…I can’t.”

She looks at you, her eyes filled with a mix of hurt and understanding. She nods slowly, her voice barely audible. “It’s okay. I get it.”

You want to say more, to explain why can’t let it happen, but the words catch in your throat. Instead, you turn and leave the rooftop, the weight of what just happened pressing down on you like a heavy blanket.

After that night, everything changes.

Jennie stops coming to the rooftop, and though you try to tell yourself it’s for the best, a part of you misses her. You miss the quiet conversations, the way she made you feel understood in a way no one else ever has, but you know you can’t let yourself get attached.

You can’t risk hurting her, or yourself. The walls you built took years to stabilise, you can’t let someone else in again.

Days turn into weeks, and you start seeing Jennie everywhere, but only from a distance. You catch glimpses of her in magazine articles, on TV interviews, on red carpets. She’s back in the spotlight, drowning herself in her work, and you watch from the sidelines as she slips further and further away.

You tell yourself it’s better this way, but the truth is, it hurts. You’ve grown to care for Jennie in a way you didn’t expect, and now that she’s gone, the rooftop feels emptier than ever.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You’re sitting at your desk one afternoon, trying to concentrate on writing but finding it nearly impossible. The words on the screen blur together as your mind drifts back to her — like it always seems to do lately. The nights without her have been long and restless, and no matter how hard you try to distract yourself, you can’t stop thinking about her.

And it certainly doesn’t help that you’ve been avoiding Irene and everyone that could possibly be in Jennie’s circle.

“Hey, are you even paying attention to what I’m saying?” Lisa’s voice pulls you back to reality. You nod, turning towards her.

Lisa, your best friend and old roommate, has been talking for the past ten minutes about some new reality show she’s obsessed with. She’s sitting on the couch, legs tucked beneath her, scrolling through her phone.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, glancing back at your laptop. “Something about hot contestants and drama, right?”

She raises an eyebrow at you, eyes narrowing. “Sure, that’s exactly it.”

“What’s up with that look?”

“You’ve been so weird lately, zoning out and acting mysterious. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” you say a little too quickly. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind. Work, deadlines, you know how it is.”

“Hmm,” Lisa hums, clearly not convinced. She stretches her arms and yawns before tossing her phone onto the couch and standing up. “Well, whatever it is, you need a break. You’ve been glued to that laptop for hours. I’m making coffee. Want some?”

You nod absentmindedly, barely listening as Lisa walks into the kitchen. You can hear your phone vibrating from your bedroom, but you don’t check it immediately. You assume it’s just another email from other editors or some work-related notification.

Instead, you scroll through your half-finished article, sighing at the lack of progress.

“Hey, do you mind if I grab your phone charger?” Lisa asks from the kitchen.

“Yeah, go ahead. It’s on the table by my bed,” you reply, not thinking twice.

She disappears into your room, and you return to your article. For a few blissful minutes, you actually manage to focus, typing out a few coherent sentences before her voice suddenly cuts through the silence.

“Oh my GOD.”

You flinch, nearly knocking over your water bottle in the process. Her voice has jumped several octaves, and it’s followed by a burst of nervous laughter. “What?!” you yell out, spinning around in your chair.

She comes charging back into the living room, your phone in her hand, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Uh, excuse me. Who’s texting you? Because I just saw a whole bunch of messages from someone named Jennie—” she holds up your phone “With a VERY familiar profile picture.”

You freeze, realizing immediately what your best friend has stumbled upon.

“Lisa —“

“Oh no, no, no,” she interjects, waving your phone around like it’s court case evidence. “Do not even try to tell me that Jennie is just some random friend. I recognise that face anywhere! Jennie Kim is messaging you?”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Lisa, please, calm down. It’s not what you think.”

“Not what I think? I’m sorry to invade your privacy but you invaded mine for four years,” her eyes are practically bulging out of her head now, and she’s shrieking. She opens the messages, scrolling through them with increasing disbelief. “She’s asking how you are. She’s sending cute little ‘I miss you’ texts. I miss you? This is Jennie Kim! And you’re not responding?!”

You can’t help but chuckle at Lisa’s reaction, but your stomach twists with anxiety. “It’s complicated.”

“This is a Hollywood star sending you heart emojis, there’s nothing complicated about this except the fact that you haven’t told me!”

Before you can respond, the Thai woman glances at your phone again, her eyes widening as she scrolls even further. “Oh, hold up. Is this —” her hand flies to her mouth dramatically. “Is this a picture of you and Jennie?“

You visibly cringe. That was a picture Jennie had taken during one of your rooftop nights. It wasn’t anything too intimate, just the two of you sitting side by side, the city lights spread out behind you. Jennie had sent it to you as a reminder of the night, and at the time, it felt special, something just for you both to remember.

“How are you so calm right now? Do you realize what this means? You’ve been hanging out with Jennie Kim, and you never told me?” Lisa’s voice rises again as she shakes her head in disbelief.

You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Look, it’s not exactly something I could just bring up over dinner, okay? ‘Hey, by the way, I’ve been spending nights on the rooftop with one of the most famous celebrities in the world. How’s your day?’”

She stares at you for a moment, her mouth still open, before she bursts out laughing. “Honestly, yeah, that would have been exactly the way to bring it up!”

You can’t help but laugh with her, though the tension in your chest doesn’t completely disappear. She flops onto the couch, still holding your phone, her eyes wide with amazement as she stares at the messages again.

“So, let me get this straight,” she says slowly. “You and Jennie Kim, Hollywood superstar, what? Friends? Dating? In some weird rooftop-based relationship that I clearly need all the details about?”

You shake your head, feeling the weight of the situation press down on you. “I don’t know. We spent nights talking, and yeah, we got close. But then things got complicated, and I -“ you stop yourself, the memories of pulling away from Jennie still fresh in your mind. “I don’t know what we are. I think I fumbled her.”

Lisa purses her lips, clearly sensing the conflict in your voice. “So, let me get this straight. She’s sending you these sweet, thoughtful texts, you two have clearly shared something important, and your reaction is to not respond?”

You wince. “It’s not that simple.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“It’s complicated,” you repeat, your voice quieting.

She sits up, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine, fine. I get it. It’s complicated. But,” she leans in, her voice turning more serious, “do you care about her?”

You hesitate, the answer lodged somewhere deep inside you, tangled up with fear and uncertainty. “Yeah,” you finally say. “I really do.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Lisa says, her tone both exasperated and gentle. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. If you care about her, let her know.“

You sit in silence for a moment, processing her words because she’s somehow right.

Jennie has been reaching out to you, and you’ve been too scared to respond. Too scared of getting hurt, of what it might mean if you let yourself care this much.

Lisa, seeing the wheels turning in your head, grins and tosses your phone back to you. “I’m just saying, if you don’t respond to those messages, I will. And trust me, you don’t want me getting involved.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Yeah, no, I definitely don’t.”

“Okay, now, coffee and reply to her,” she demands as she heads back to the kitchen, you look down at your phone. Jennie’s messages are still there, waiting for a reply.

You open the chat, your fingers hovering over the screen, but you decide against it and put your phone back into your pocket.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Months have passed since you’d last seen Jennie on the rooftop. The silence between you is like a dull ache, made worse by the guilt you’ve been carrying for leaving her hanging without explanation. Even though she had reached out, sending you texts in the weeks following that night, you never replied.

And now, she stopped messaging altogether.

At first, you convinced yourself it was for the best. You told yourself that someone like Jennie didn’t need the confusion and the mess that came with you. She was too bright, too big for your small world.

It was better this way, right?

That’s what you kept telling yourself, until you saw the photos.

One night, you’re scrolling through social media, trying to keep your mind occupied. That’s when you saw it: Jennie with Kai. Hands intertwined, walking together like the perfect Hollywood couple.

The caption under the photo read: Hollywood’s newest power couple: Jennie Kim and Kai spotted together again.

Your heart sinks as you stare at the image. There is something about seeing her with someone else, someone who fit into her world so seamlessly, that makes your breath catch in your throat. The rational part of you knew this was inevitable. You’d pushed her away, and she moved on. She has every right to.

That doesn’t stop it from hurting.

For the next few days, you read more headlines about Jennie and Kai. Every time you opened your phone, there was a new photo, a new article speculating about their relationship. The more you saw, the more the hurt settled deep into your chest. You couldn’t bear it anymore.

So, you made a decision.

When the ache became too much, you, went straight to Jennie’s contact, and deleted it. Then you went further: blocking her number, unfollowing her on every social media platform and erasing every trace of her from your life.

It feels like the only way to move on.

Days pass, and even though Jennie’s name no longer appears in your phone, the ghost of her lingers. You throw yourself into work everyday, trying to bury the feelings under deadlines and distractions. Lisa, who had been pestering you about texting Jennie back, eventually gave up, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation when you refused to talk about it anymore.

“You’re going to regret this,” Lisa warns before leaving your apartment one night, shaking her head. “You can’t just block someone out of your life like that.”

But you did. And now you’re left with the quiet, empty space that Jennie used to fill.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It’s not until a few days later, when Irene and Rosé show up unannounced at your apartment, that you realise things are far from over.

You’re typing away at your desk, again trying (and failing) to focus on the article you should have finished five hours ago, when there’s a loud knock at your door. Before you can even get up to answer, the door swings open, and in walks Irene and Rosé, looking far too determined and scary for your liking.

“Uh, hey?” you greet awkwardly, completely thrown off by their sudden arrival. “Is there a reason you two are barging into my apartment?”

Irene doesn’t waste any time. She crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe, giving you a knowing look. “We need to talk.”

Rosé steps forward, her expression much softer but equally serious. “Yeah, we’ve been worried about you.”

You frown. “Worried about me? I’m fine.”

“Sure you are,” Irene is sarcastic, raising an eyebrow. “You’re doing great, which is why you’ve completely ghosted Jennie and blocked her on everything.”

Your stomach drops, but you try to play it off. “How do you even -“

“We’re her friends, Y/N,” Rosé cuts you off gently, sitting down on the edge of your couch. “We know. And we’ve noticed that she hasn’t been the same since -“

“Since you decided to disappear on her,” Irene finishes bluntly, cutting straight to the point. “I mean, come on. Jennie literally never shuts up about you. She hasn’t been herself, even with Kai in the picture.”

At the mention of Kai, you feel your chest tighten, the hurt bubbling back up. “I saw the photos. Jennie and Kai…they look happy. I figured she moved on. It’s for the best.”

Irene heaves out a dramatic groan, throwing her head back. “Oh my God, Y/N, that’s exactly what’s wrong. She’s not happy with Kai. It’s all for PR. She’s been miserable ever since you stopped talking to her.”

You blink, stunned by her words. “What?”

Rosé sighs this time, her eyes full of sympathy. “She’s been going through the motions, but it’s obvious she’s hurting. We can see it, even if no one else can. Jennie’s been quieter, more closed off. And trust me, it’s not because of Kai.”

“She’s still hung up on you,” Irene adds, her tone softening just a little. “She might be out there with Kai for appearances, but she’s not happy, Y/N, she seems worst than before.”

You feel the weight of their words press down on you. You didn’t think about how much your silence had hurt Jennie. You’d convinced yourself that stepping back was the right thing to do, that she was better off without you in her life.

“I just,” you trail off, running a hand through your hair. “I thought she’d moved on. I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“Well, congrats, you’re officially not in the way,” Irene laughs dryly. “And now she’s miserable, and you’re miserable. Great job, everyone!”

Rosé shoots her a look before turning back to you. “Y/N, you need to talk to her. She’s not okay, and I don’t think you are either.”

Looking down at your hands, your mind starts racing. You had blocked Jennie, thinking it was the only way to protect yourself and her from more hurt. But now, being cornered by Irene and Rosé, you figure that all you had done was push her away without giving either of you a chance to figure out what this really was.

“I don’t even know what to say,” you whisper, the guilt settling deep in your chest.

Irene sighs deeply, sitting down beside Rosé on the couch. “Look, you don’t need some grand speech. Just be honest. Talk to her.”

Rosé nods in agreement. “Yeah. She misses you, Y/N. And I think you miss her too.”

You feel a lump form in your throat as their words start to sink in. They’re right - you do miss Jennie. More than you have been willing to admit. Taking a deep breath, you nodded slowly. “Okay, I’ll talk to her.”

“Good luck, Y/N. You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The rooftop has always been your sanctuary, the one place where you can feel the world slowing down, but ever since you distanced yourself from Jennie, you couldn’t bring yourself to come back.

Tonight, something is different. There is an undeniable pull guiding you back to the place that had once brought you peace. After Irene and Rosé cornered you in your apartment, you’d been thinking about Jennie more than ever. Maybe, after all this time, it was finally time to confront your feelings and reach out to her.

As you step out onto the rooftop, the familiar chill of the night air brushes against your skin. You let out a deep breath, expecting to find the space empty like it had been for the last few weeks. But instead, you’re frozen in your tracks.

Jennie is already there.

Sitting on one of the lounge chairs, staring out at the city lights, her silhouette framed by the silver glow of the moon. For a moment, you stand there, unsure if you should stay or leave, but then Jennie turns, her eyes locking onto yours.

There is a flicker of emotions on her face; hurt, confusion and maybe even relief.

“You’re here,” she begins softly, her voice carrying through the quiet night.

You swallow hard, taking a hesitant step forward. “Yeah, I didn’t expect you to be here.”

She stands up slowly, her eyes never leaving yours. There is a heaviness in her expression, one you recognise all too well. “Why did you block me?” she asks, her voice strained with emotion. “Why are you pushing me out of your life, Y/N?”

The words hit you harder than you expect. You’d prepared yourself for this moment, but now that it’s here, she’s here, the guilt weighs on your chest like stones.

You take another deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Jennie —”

“I thought we had something,” she stops you, her voice rising ever so slightly. “I thought we shared the same feelings. But then you just…disappeared. Did I make you feel sick?”

You can hear the hurt in her voice, and it cuts through you like a knife. You look down, unable to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, Jennie. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just, I didn’t know what to do.”

She shakes her head, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “You could have talked to me. You could have told me what you were feeling instead of just shutting me out.”

There’s a long silence as you stand there, feeling the weight of everything you had kept bottled up inside for so long. You know you owe her an explanation; an honest one this time.

“I thought you were better off without me,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I saw you with Kai, and he fits into your world. He’s everything you need. He understands the pressure you’re under, and he can handle it. I don’t belong in your world, Jennie.”

She blinks, clearly taken aback. “Kai? Y/N, Kai was just…he was never anything serious. He doesn’t make me feel the way you do. It was my job.”

You let out a bitter laugh, the pain of the past few weeks bubbling up inside you. “But he fits. He’s a part of that life, your life. I don’t. I don’t know how to navigate your world. I’m scared of falling for you because I’ve been hurt before. Really badly. And I don’t think I can handle it if I get hurt again.”

Her expression softens, the hurt in her eyes replaced by something else, something warmer.

She took a step closer, her voice gentle but firm. “You think you’re not good enough for me? Y/N, you’re the only person I’ve ever felt like I could be myself around. The only person who makes me feel like I don’t have to be Jennie Kim. With you, I can just be Jennie.”

The vulnerability in her voice, the raw emotion, it’s all there laid out in front of you.

“I pushed you away because I didn’t feel like I deserved you,” you confess, your voice trembling. “After my last relationship, I’ve had this constant anxiety. My insomnia, everything, it’s all because I’ve been scared to let anyone in. I didn’t want to fall in love again, not after the heartbreak I went through. And with you…it feels so much bigger, so much scarier.”

She steps even closer, her eyes searching yours. “I understand,” she whispers. “I’ve been scared too. But I’m not scared of you, Y/N. I’m in love with you.”

Your heart stops at her confession. The world around you falls away as her words hangs in the air, weightless but powerful. “You’re in love with me?”

She nods, her eyes never leaving yours. “Yes. I’m in love with you, and I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks, but you shut me out. I genuinely believe that I was made for you, Y/N.”

The tears you’ve been holding back finally break free, and before you can stop yourself, you close the distance between you, pulling Jennie into a tight embrace. She wraps her arms around you, holding you just as tightly, and in that moment, all the fear and anxiety you’ve been carrying melt away.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumble into her shoulder, your voice cracking with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”

She pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “You don’t have to be scared anymore. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll look after you.”

Her words soothe the ache that has been sitting in your heart for so long; creating a home for itself. You lean in, pressing your forehead against hers, wrapped in each other’s arms.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you feel a sense of peace. The weight you have been carrying on your shoulders begins to lift, and you know, finally, that it’s okay to let yourself fall.

“I love you too,” your voice is shaky but certain. “I’m in love with you, Jennie.”

She smiles through her tears, her eyes bright with joy. She cups your face in her hands and leans in, capturing your lips in a soft, gentle kiss.

When you pull away, she rests her head against your chest, her arms still wrapped around you. The night air is cool, but the warmth of her body against yours is keeping you grounded.

“I’m here,” she says once more, her voice barely audible. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And for the first time in a long time, you believe it.

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