#and I love blaming the french for things
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anglerflsh · 1 year ago
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hey do you have any recs for sources about gender pre 1750?
the main book I looked at was "Queer" by Maya de Leo, and related "Homosexuality in Reinassance England" by A. Bray + "Parisian Homosexuals Create a lifestyle" (magnificent title btw) by M. Rey, which cites also the police archives + "Are those people like us" by Van Der Meer, all of which are cited in that first book as well
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meowmeowmessi · 2 years ago
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Honestly, as much as well talk about it, I kinda don't seen City as an option just becauss they've built their team over the last 2 years, including ofc Grealish who also plays as a 10 and is a starter, and it doesn't feel like they'd want to make any big transfers now. But still I guess we will see in the transfer window for sure, both for City's squad and Messi's decision.
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appreciate the reality check, anons 🥲 it's all on leo and whether he believes in whatever "sports project" nonsense pissg is feeding him atp. i seriously doubt he's going to stay in the tinpot club for much longer (dear god let this not be a jinx), but considering barça's financial situation rn, not to mention tebas,,, i really don't think it's a feasible option. and i don't want it to be, either :// not at this moment, anyway. so yes, we can only wait and see what happens in the next transfer window. i'm not too worried about his options tbh— it's fucking messi, not just any random player: all it takes is the news "he is wants to leave" to break out just like the burofax in 2020 and he'll have clubs lining up at his doorstep
#also i've heard grealish has been flopping lately?#saw some ppl on city twt saying they wouldn't mind messi in their squad in place of grealish that got me going HMMM fjdkfj#jokes aside tho. if he leaves pissg and barça can't sign him then i don't see him going anywhere other than city#bc messi enjoys familiarity. he has juli and pep over there. not to mention city was an actual option he was considering back in 2020#i'd love to see him in napoli too but they're broke so 🥲#but i really really don't want barça for him rn. administrative and political issues with la liga aside#the way true coolers are moving rn#coupled with PLAYERS saying they hope messi comes back and helps them win the ucl#it's not looking good bruv. hate to burst the bubble but the current squad is only good enough to win the league#there's still a long way to go if they want to conquer europe. and this isn't 2018/19 messi anymore#who can singlehandedly drag them to the ucl semis#if messi comes back and they flop he'll be made the scapegoat. and it'll be so much worse#i understand there's the romantic inside all of us that thinks messi can definitely help the club of his life win the ucl#bc he's the main character of football and a real life mary sue#but listen. even cinderella's magic runs out when the clock strikes midnight#some things are just impossible#and im tired of seeing messi taking the blame for everything. i can take french media throwing stones at him bc they're pests anyway#but i don't want him to get hurt by the club of his life. that'd be too much for me to bear#at the end of the day it's his decision but yeah. city or napoli for me. barça can be his pit stop right before he r words#i have a lot of feelings regarding this sorry ://#asks
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aro-ortega · 11 months ago
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had a dream about pirates but not about my pirate characters.. so i guess i have new pirate characters now
#dream was mostly following the first mate#who was a non op/non transitioned trans man#and the crew was totally fine and respectful of it#but others were Not#i dont remember how but they lost access to their ship and were grtting ready to catch a ride on a train to the next city/port#but the people running the train were like YOU need to sleep down w the rest of the girls#the captain wanted to square up for his first mate but he was like its fine its temporary just let it go#the women were like um this isnt where you sleep ? youre a man ? and hes like dont worry ladies i will be keeping to myself#but i DO need a bunk in the meanwhile so whos sharing#(he is very very handsome so there were eager volunteers)#also he (along w a lot of the lirate crew) had like. all of his things stolen#so hes just got the clothes / first mate garb on his back#also hes bisexual and speaks french#there was a moment in the dream where he noticed a frenchman too nervous to shoot his shot w a girl#and he was like ah well you know. i am not very impressive to women... down there#and the first mate was like dont worry man i assure you plenty of women love a man w a small dick#it was a nice convo and also all in french which is so weird i dont think ive dreamed in french before#i also remember him saying about the sleeping arrangements something like. well. dont blame me for#me for the consequences of putting a cock in the henhouse#he was just extremely cool and blase. he knows who he is and his crew knows who he is and that was enough for him#op#also i think the captain has a crush on his first mate
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supercreig · 8 months ago
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What I find so funny about Craig and Christophe is how they actually have a few things in common, but they have this complex relationship (non-romantic btw) going on.
Their mom's were both prostitutes (not talking about Laura btw).
They both have this knack of flipping people off (if they find it necessary).
They are both seen as aggressive, but they are actually softies.
They both have blond boyfriends.
Honestly the reason the two don't get along much is because of how Craig is (still) pissed off at Christophe for how he's left the one and only friend (Gregory) he had in his life without a word for 7+ years. Christophe had stolen Gregory's money, left everything they had behind, faked his death, and fled to France without a word to anybody. This of course hurt Gregory gravely to where he had been silently grieving for the "loss" of his dear friend for 7+ years, especially not knowing that Christophe (who left that name behind and started going by Grantaire) has actually been alive the entire time.
Now for Christophe, Craig has given him a few good punches here and there when he found him alive somewhere in France. Aside from the punches, Craig also pretty much tells Christophe off at how much Gregory has been hurting and grieving for him for 7+ years. Craig just gives him a piece of his mind and Christophe is guilty about it all because he knows it's all true that he has left his only friend hurting for so many years, and that he should have just stayed with him but instead he ran like a coward. Christophe doesn't get along much with Craig because he know damn well what he himself did was wrong and he can't help but feel guilt, so it's like Christophe takes his guilt out on Craig in a way.
TL;DR
It's not like Craig and Christophe literally hate each other. Both are close to this one person (Gregory). Craig mostly worries that Gregory would just be hurt again if he brought Christophe back into his life, and Christophe is just full of guilt, and whatever Craig has told him, Christophe just sees his own guilt within Craig somehow.
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fangirl-dot-com · 7 months ago
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🪡The Obvious String
*part of the reverse trope series*
Paring: Lestappen x MercedesDriver!Reader Genre: SMAU/Fluff/Humor Summary: The invisible string was so visible that everyone missed it but them. What are they? Rivals? Friends? Emotional Support Buddies? But they can't be lovers . . . can they?
*I took a lot of inspo from people on twitter. I think this is the most work I've ever done for a chapter before. the tweets alone took almost two hours to do. I absolutely love lestappen so this is super self-indulgent. but that's why I'm a writer. I hope you all enjoy!*
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
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Lando knew that there was something between the three of them. 
Anyone could see that. Instagram, twitter, TikTok, hell even the Formula 1 app was talking about it. The grid was getting very suspicious, but who could blame them. 
Max wasn’t putting out the fire by pulling his two childhood friends in as they posed for pictures. Charles couldn’t help but flash his God-given dimples at the Dutchman or the Briton girl. And Y/n, she was just as bad, blush on her cheeks every moment she was around them. 
So yeah, everyone was talking. But, no one truly knew what exactly was going on. 
And that’s exactly what Lando was going to find out. (With the help of his fellow 16 drivers.)
His first victim: the French bestie of the non-French man. 
“I have no clue what is going on between the three,” was the first thing that came out of Pierre’s mouth when Lando showed up to his driver’s room door. The poor McLaren driver hadn’t even gotten a word out. 
Lando rolled his eyes. “You have to know something. And you call yourself Charles’s best mate.” 
Pierre threw his hands up. “Non, apparently that is Y/n and Max. I’ve been kicked to the side.” 
The Alpine driver definitely wasn’t bitter or anything. He was actually thankful that you and Max had been able to keep an eye on Charles when he couldn’t. Knowing that the Monegasque had frequent delf-deprecating thoughts, he felt better that he had the two of you. 
Pierre turned to Lando. “Aren’t you supposed to Max’s best friend as well? How would I know something that you don’t.” 
Now that made Lando’s brows furrow. He was supposed to be Max’s best friend. And maybe that’s why he felt a bit peeved to not know what was supposedly going on between you, him, and Charles. His arms crossed in front of his chest. 
“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” he muttered, turning away to the door. 
The Frenchman scoffed. “Good luck mate. We’ve been trying since 2019.” 
“We?” 
Lewis was not expecting the numerous knocks at his door during media day. The Briton held his breath, willing the unexpected visitors to give up and go away. Yet, a sigh left his lips once the knocking started up again. He pulled himself off of his couch and walked over. 
When the door swung in, two bodies brushed against his side. 
His eye brows raised. “Yes, welcome. Come right in. Oh, thank you Lewis for allowing us to disturb your peace.” 
Lando chewed his lip. “Yeah, thanks man.” 
Pierre took a look around the room. “Thank you Lewis.” 
The papaya clad driver took a seat exactly where Lewis’s had been sitting, which cause Lewis to glare at him. 
“And why are the two of you here?” 
Pierre huffed, looking at the pictures on Lewis’s wall. 
“Ask him.” A finger pointed at Lando, making the Briton look up from his phone. 
“Oh yeah. Do you know. . . ”
Once again, Lando couldn’t even finish his sentence because Lewis interrupted him. 
“No, I don’t know what’s going on between Y/n, Max, and Charles. Honestly Lando, no one knows and I don’t think they know either.” 
Lando leaned his head back and groaned. 
“But how could they not? They all make goo-goo eyes at each other. And it’s worse on the podium.” 
“At least you haven’t bit on the podium with two-thirds of the groups. It’s insufferable man. They can’t go without talking about each other for more than a few moments.”
A laugh left Pierre’s lips. “Oh yeah. It’s always ‘Y/n was so strong on corner 2’ or ‘Pierre, did you see how Max overtook Checo?’ And then ‘Oh Charles was told to stay behind again. He really needs to ignore them.’ It makes me want to puke every time.” 
Lando scratched his chin. “Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re right. It was like how Max and Charles completely ignored me in China. They kept looking at Y/n below!” 
The last few words had a slight whine to them. Charles had been quick enough to catch Checo on the last lap, and placed himself in P3 after Lando. 
The Alpine driver looked lost. “Lewis, you’ve been Y/n’s teammate for almost three years. How can you not know anything.” 
All he got was a glare back. 
“Like I said, Gasly, I don’t even think they know something is going on. It’s pathetic honestly.” 
Lando put his head in his hands. “She must be pining. Don’t you two do girls night or at least something like that?” 
“Lando, she spends all her free moments with Max and Charles. How can she be pining to me if she doesn’t leave their side.” 
It was quite for a moment before Lando snapped. 
“I’ve got it. If we want grid gossip, we got to go to the source.” 
“No Lando, I don’t know if Max, Charles, and Y/n are in a secret relationship. And I don’t think they think of each other like that.” 
The groan that Lando let out was so loud it made a couple of people look their way. George, the tall, lanky Briton was set to take Lewis’s seat for 2025 after two years in Williams. The driver pool was going crazy. 
Logan was returning to Formula 1 with HAAS after a brief sabbatical and would be a teammate pair with Oliver Bearman. Nico and Daniel of all people were going to Audi. Liam was set to take the second Red Bull seat. And Carlos, well, no one really knew, but rumors said that he was going to return with Audi when they caught up with the regulations in 2027. 
The McLaren driver was close to pulling his curls out. 
“But George.” 
Lando was now full on whining. George seemed exasperated and shrugged. 
“We’re not that close anyway. We aren’t even teammates yet. And you knew how she yelled at me that one time that my car scraped a hole in Max’s car.” 
The group of four winced at the memory. 
Max had just finished yelling at George, calling him every name under the sun. And then you had shown up to double it. The Williams, well, now Mercedes driver, was thankful that Charles had shown up to drag the two of you away. 
Lewis looked a bit pale. 
“Yeah. I don’t think she’s fully forgiven me for Silverstone 2021.” 
Lando turned to Lewis. “But they were all still fighting at that point. Remember the whole unfollowing they did in 2019?” 
Pierre snorted. “Of course we remember. That doesn’t mean that they didn’t still care about each other. You know that Charles and Y/n were the first ones to congratulate Max after he won the championship in Abu Dhabi. And then her and Max practically tackled Charles in Japan in 2022. I don’t even want to imagine when Y/n wins her championship.”  
Lando ran a hand down his face. 
“Well, if Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis and George don’t know. Then who would?” 
George cocked his head. 
“Have you asked Daniel? You know that he and Max are pretty close.” 
Lando’s eyes widened. “Why did I not think of that. George I could kiss you!” 
George’s face scrunched. “No thank you. I don’t want to be anywhere near your lips.” 
Lewis was already at the door, wanting to get a move on. “Let’s go. George you’re coming too. If we get to the bottom of this, you’re going to have to learn how to deal with all three.” 
A shudder ran down George’s spine. He did not want to imagine the horror of sharing a podium with all of them. He’s heard enough stories. 
When they got to Daniel’s motorhome, the Australian was peacefully talking with Oscar. Lando had run up to them and was currently hunched over, trying to catch his breath. 
“Do,” inhale, “you two,” exhale, “know if,” inhale and heave, “there’s something,” exhale, “going on,” inhale, “with. . .”
Daniel sighed. “Max, Charles, and Y/n?” 
Lando shot up, eyes full of hope. Lewis nodded next to him. 
“Yes! Do you?” 
The older Aussie wanted to smirk as he saw hope fill the group’s faces. He nodded a bit, and Lando looked like someone told him that his birthday and Christmas had come early. 
“No.” 
The McLaren driver fell to the ground. Pierre smacked Daniel on the shoulder. 
“Why would you do that!” 
Now Lewis was the one whining. 
“Because it was funny. Mate, they’ve been like this since Max joined in 2018. Even then, it was worse than whatever this is.” 
The Mercedes driver of the group let out another groan for what felt like the millionth time in that hour. 
“Max was insufferable in 2018. Taking his sim everywhere so that he could game and race with them online. And the multiple phone calls. I think Max partied harder for Charles’s F2 champion win and Y/n’s F3 championship than his first race win.” 
“Ok, but that’s kind of cute.” 
All eyes landed on Oscar. 
The younger Aussie’s eyes bulged. “What?” 
Daniel pointed a finger at him. “If Max hears you say cute in any way, shape, or form that is distinctly near his name, he will come after you.”  
An audible gulp was heard. 
Lando had begun to pace. “Well, if I don’t know, Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis doesn’t know, George doesn’t know, Oscar doesn’t know, and Daniel doesn’t know, then who would know?”
Everyone looked a little lost. 
“Aha!” 
The two papaya drivers jumped out of reflex. Lando’s head turned violently toward Lewis. 
“What!” 
He held his phone up with a contact showing. 
“We call Seb.” 
“Lewis, like I’ve told you. Charles hasn’t told me anything.” 
For the sake of everyone around in the paddock, they held in their groans. 
“But Seb, you were practically Charles’s grid-dad. You have to know something!” Daniel said, face nearly in Lewis’s phone, as if Sebastian could hear him better. 
A sigh was heard through the speaker. 
“Charles was nothing less than a terror in 2019. I think the calmest anyone has seen him was 2018 when his car didn’t go fast enough for him to catch anyone.” 
Lewis hummed. “That’s true.” 
“Because everyone there should know that 2019 was the year of them. Every headline was all about them. And don’t get me started on when they had that big fight. I had to hear everything about it every. single. weekend.” 
Daniel nodded. “It was the same with Max. If Fernando was here, he could say the same for Y/n since she was still racing with Alpine at the time.” 
Oscar had completely forgotten about Fernando being Y/n’s teammate for half a season before she made the jump to Williams to replace Kubica to race alongside Nicholas Latiffi. The young Aussie had looked up to the older female when he was making the decision to leave Alpine. She had personally congratulated him on the move and gave him a wink. Well, had tried to before Max and Charles dragged her away. 
Sebastian had gone quiet over the phone. 
“Has anyone actually asked them if they’re together or not? Instead of just asking everyone else about a matter that deeply involves the three of them?” 
Their silence had answered for them. 
Lando grabbed Lewis’s phone out of his hand. 
“Thank you Seb! We’ll get right on it!” 
“Hey!” 
It was too late and Lando had already hung up and was passing the phone back to his fellow Briton. 
“Guys, we can’t ask them.” 
“What!” Pierre yelled. 
“Think about it. If we just go and ask, they’re going to make excuses. We won’t get a right answer.” 
“Lando, you’re being unreal. Let’s just go ask them,” George said. 
“Ask them what?” 
The six of them jumped out of their skin at the new arrival of a familiar voice. Lando froze before slowly turning around, to come face to face with you, Charles, and Max, all looking cozy for media day. 
“Uh, nothing?” Lando squeaked out, eyes darting around so he wouldn’t have to look at the trio. 
Max snorted. “Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.” 
He took a sip of his Red Bull. 
Daniel looked panicked. “We were just wanting to ask, uh, Lewis and Nico if they had forgiven each other yet?” 
“Hey!” 
Charles raised his eyebrows. “Why do you seem so unsure? And Lewis is right there mate. Kind of rude to talk about his problems in front of him.” 
“Thank you Charles.” 
The Monegasque hummed as he turned to Max. His mouth dropped. 
“Max, I thought I told you to stop drinking that stuff. It’s bad for your heart.” 
The Dutchman shrugged and took another sip, just to spite the Ferrari driver. You rolled your eyes, knowing a playfight was just around the corner. 
Oscar’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the trio’s choice of outfits. 
“Y/n, are those Charles’s cloud pants? Charles is that Max’s cap? And Max is that Charles’s Monza hoodie.” 
The arguing that was beginning to build between the two male drivers suddenly stopped. Your eyes widened as you jerked your head toward them. 
Sure enough, Charles’s hat was not bright red and it had the number 1 on it, something that Charles lost to Max in 2023. You leaned back to look at the hoodie Max was wearing, and indeed it had the iconic podium scene on the back of it. The two males looked toward your pants. The bright white clouds seemed to stare back at them. 
“Uh, yes?” you asked. “But we share clothes all the time. It’s not a big deal.” 
Max and Charles nodded before Charles was hit with a thought. 
“Oh, chéri, I forgot to tell you that your dry cleaning was picked up a few hours ago and is back at the hotel,” he said as he looked at his phone, completely missing the six pairs of wide eyes that were now looking at him. 
Max smirked as he leaned over and kissed the top of Charles’s head. 
“Thank you schatje.” 
This time, a whine came from you. 
“I’m being left out,” you muttered, crossing your arms. However, the two were not having it and quickly brought you into their arms. 
Lando stared, blinked, and stared some more before he rubbed his eyes. He completely believed that the three would disappear when his hands lowered, but he caught Max in the middle of kissing your lips. 
“WHAT?” 
You turned back to the group. 
“Are you all fine?” 
Lewis threw his hands up. “I’m done. Call me when we need to go to the media.” 
The door opened quickly, allowing Lewis to slip out. 
Pierre looked a bit pale. “What? When? Where? Why?”
Charles shrugged. “We’re together. After my championship. The hotel. We love each other.” 
Daniel sighed. “So you’ve been together since 2022?” 
Max rolled his eyes. “No.” 
“But Charles just said his championship!” Oscar explained, hands outstretched. 
It was your turn to smile. “His F2 championship. We’ve been together since 2017.” 
A long sigh came from Lando. “I think I need to sit down.” 
Daniel’s door swung back open, revealing Lewis once again. He also seemed out of breath. His hands were on his knees for a bit until he straightened back up. 
“You’re telling me that you three have been together SINCE 2017!” 
You nodded. “Yes.” 
Pierre pouted. “But what about 2019?” 
The three of you winced in a synchronized matter. With a quick look, Max was the one to sigh. His hands dug into the front pocket of the cozy, black hoodie. 
“Long story short, we took a small break until Y/n won in Brazil. We all got our heads out of our asses and apologized.” 
Oscar rose an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you followed each other back on Instagram.”
A snort from you made the two men chuckle. You simply shrugged your shoulders. 
“Too lazy? We don’t feel like breaking the internet.” 
Lando took a seat on Daniel’s couch. “Why haven’t you told anyone?” 
Charles ran a hand over his face. “Lando, we race in countries where people are killed for being homosexual. We can’t risk anything.” 
The air suddenly took a solemn turn as the McLaren driver nodded, truly taking in the situation. Charles chewed his lip in anxiety, while Max picked at his fingers. You were looking at the group. 
“You won’t tell anyone right?” 
Suddenly, everyone felt bad for wanting to find out. They had pushed the three to confess something that they might not have wanted people to know about at that time. What a group of friends they were. 
Lando hung his head. “We won’t. I’m sorry that we asked about it before you three were obviously ready to tell someone.” 
Another snort left Charles’s lips as his hand rested on his mouth. Max had a shit-eating grin on his face, you had one to match. 
Pierre looked at them with a skeptical expression. “Something to tell us?” 
Max’s shoulders raised. “People know. You aren’t the first ones to know.” 
Lewis sighed, shoulder sagging. George put a hand on the older Briton’s shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. Lando looked close to losing it. His hazel eyes narrowed at the trio. 
“Then . . . who knows?” 
Charles’s eyes looked up a bit as he started to count. 
“Uh, Christian, Fred, Toto, Kimi.” 
You pulled out his fingers and counted.  
“Jensen, Mark, uh, Nico.” 
Lewis looked like he wanted to pass out. 
Max smirked. 
“Oh, and Seb.” 
There was silence amongst the group. 
“Oh he is so dead.” 
“Lando you can’t kill Seb!” 
“Sorry Lewis, but this is his fault!” 
“Calm down Lando. You’ll lose your seat.” 
“Oscar, I just want to talk to Seb. Who has his phone number?” 
“I am not giving you his number Lando.” 
“I’m not asking you Lewis. Daniel, I know you have it.” 
You smiled in Max and Charles’s arms as Lando started to get physical, trying to grab Daniel’s phone. 
You leaned up, immediately being engulfed in Max’s aftershave. “Should we stop them?” 
Charles leaned a bit forward to look at his two lovers. A soft smile formed on his face, before a smirk replaced it. 
“Nah.” 
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TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlm @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicore @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-su @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
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tinycoffeeroom · 7 months ago
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café de paris | max verstappen
face claim: none ᡣ𐭩
request: here !
a/n: all french / dutch is google translated blame them if it's wrong! race order is completely random here !
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
📍café de paris, monaco
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liked by bffstagram, friend1 and 294 others
y/nstagram me 🤝 café de paris
bffstagram bro those croissants look Fire ↳ y/nstagram my main source of sustenance in these hard monaco streets!
friend1 i have yet to see evidence of you shaking ass on a yacht miss y/n!! ↳ bffstagram so real... we're meant to be living vicariously through you!!! ↳ y/nstagram student finance doesn't stretch to yacht ass shaking, i can barely afford my daily caffeine fix 😭
friend2 oui oui hon baguette how is france? ↳ y/nstagram never let a monagesque hear you say that,,, bro i can't fight ↳ friend2 🫡 ... how is monaco?* ↳ y/nstagram 🫡 it's good!! def happy i chose here over france, even if my wallet doesn't agree 😭 ↳ friend2 we feeling fluent yet? ↳ y/nstagram oh god no, the other day this poor old lady tried explaining how to find the art museum to me and i just stared at her like 😶
friend3 spotted any f1 hotties yet? i hear they all camp out in monaco 👀 ↳ y/nstagram considering i have never watched a Single f1 race i couldn't tell you HAHAH i'm sure they're around here somewhere though ↳ friend3 dude i told you to brush up on f1 😭 how am i supposed to come visit you and have a meet cute with mr lando norris if you don't do your RESEARCH ↳ y/nstagram damn i see how it is,,, using me to get to your vroom vroom men,,,
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3 weeks later
📍café de paris, monaco
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👤 alexandrasaintmleux liked by bffstagram, alexandrasaintmleux and 270 others
y/nstagram finally found someone else to join my café de paris obsession 🥐
bffstagram next bff sweetie run while you can... ↳ y/nstagram stop scaring the pretty bitches off damn 😔 ↳ alexandrasaintmleux bffstagram she won't let me leave 😭 ↳ y/nstagram i deserve better friends ↳ bffstagram you couldn't live without us xx ♥️ y/nstagram
alexandrasaintmleux la prochaine fois, nous irons au casino ! (next time, we go to the casino!) ↳ y/nstagram finance étudiante a dit non (student finance said no) ↳ alexandrasaintmleux 😔 s'il tu plait... pour moi? 🥺 (please... for me?) ↳ y/nstagram pray for my wallet guys...
friend3 wdym you just casually befriended The Alexandra Saint Mleux??? ↳ y/nstagram i thought her skirt was pretty and had no idea she was like famous 😭 then we just kept running into each other !! ↳ friend3 i need to fly out to monaco damn you can't even see her in the pic but ik she looked So pretty... ↳ alexandrasaintmleux i like your friends y/n :p ↳ y/nstagram just wait til you see them drunk,,,
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📍 jimmy'z, monaco
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👤 alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris and 2,962 others
y/nstagram started the night in a night club and ended on a yacht,,, just monaco things (apparently) 🛥️
friend3 y/n if you don't answer my texts RIGHT NOW !!!! ↳ y/nstagram 😉 any reason ml? ↳ friend3 i'm gonna swim to monaco and bite chunks out of your ankles what the FUCK ??? when were you gonna tell me you were just casually hanging with [REDACTED] ↳ landonorris i'm guessing i'm redacted? 😎 ↳ friend3 i need to go lie down ↳ y/nstagram landonorris dude 😭 ↳ landonorris was it something i said? 😉
alexandrasaintmleux meilleure amie 💗 (best friend) ↳ y/nstagram merci de m'avoir invitée ! je t'aime ! (thank you for inviting me! love you!)
maxverstappen1 was lovely meeting you last night schat x ↳ y/nstagram you too max! don't forget to send me those pics of the kids! x ↳ bffstagram kids? ↳ y/nstagram his cats! jimmy and sassy! 🐱❤️🐱 ↳ bffstagram your knack for finding cat people never fails to impress me ♥️ y/nstagram
danielricciardo dude my liver actually hurts... ↳ y/nstagram hey you're the one who suggested a drinking contest ↳ danielricciardo yeah because i normally WIN you freak ↳ y/nstagram i'm a broke uni student, my drink of choice is normally vodka so cheap it's legally paint stripper
georgerussell63 carmen's phone died but she said to remind you about brunch today ↳ y/nstagram on it!! alex is gonna come round and bring me 😊
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👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, bffstagram and 2,938 others
y/nstagram met some VIC's (very important cats) today! 🐱 also f's in chat for my café de paris 😔
bffstagram f ↳ danielricciardo f ↳ georgerussell63 f ↳ landonorris f ↳ carmenmmundt f ↳ alexandrasaintmleux f ↳ maxverstappen1 f
friend3 babies!! the second pic oh i could cry ↳ y/nstagram she slept there for like 3 hours 😭 managed to actually sit through a whole gp though so a wins a win! ↳ friend3 y/n watching f1?? who is she?? ↳ y/nstagram their dad forced me 💔 ↳ maxverstappen1 um who cheered so loud when i won that she woke poor sassy up?? ↳ y/nstagram 🤐
charles_leclerc i didn't know café de paris do takeout? ↳ maxverstappen1 they do if you're me :) ↳ y/nstagram the only reason i'm considering keeping him around 😉 ↳ alexandrasaintmleux charles_leclerc and why have you never used your influence to get ME takeout café de paris "prince of monaco" ↳ charles_leclerc look what you've done... y/nstagram ♥️ y/nstagram
fan they're definitely max's cats but who is she? ↳ fan she knows alexandra so maybe they're in the same friendship group??
3 months later
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liked by maxverstappen1, bffstagram and 308 others
y/nstagram working hard or hardly working 🌸
alexandrasaintmleux quand avez-vous passé votre examen ? (when's your exam?) ↳ y/nstagram lundi prochain,,, mon ami du café me manque 😔 (next monday,,, missing my cafe friend) ↳ alexandrasaintmleux nous fêterons cela quand tu auras terminé 💗 (we'll celebrate when you're finished)
bffstagram the red bulls... i wait 3 years white man does it in one week ♥️ maxverstappen1 ↳ y/nstagram hey! made him wait at least 2 months :p
friend3 the f1 book.. one of us one of us!! ↳ y/nstagram apparently i can't keep saying "the one with the red cow on it" when talking about his car,,, ↳ maxverstappen1 its a bull... literally a red bull... ↳ y/nstagram blah blah blah it's red and goes moo ↳ maxverstappen1 everyday i wake up to such disrespect ↳ charles_leclerc i'm just glad someone's keeping your ego in check ♥️ y/nstagram
friend1 when are you coming back to england :( ↳ y/nstagram i'm hoping to come visit next month! ↳ maxverstappen1 about that...
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📍 jeddah, saudi arabia
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👤 redbullracing, mine liked by redbullracing, y/nstagram and 1,928,385 others
maxverstappen1 First P1 of the season at the first race! Always grateful to stand on that top podium, especially today 🙂
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fan sorry WHO is that in the third pic????
fan bro soft launching on a race win post...
y/nstagram trots op jou ❤️ proud of you ♥️ maxverstappen1 ↳ fan 🤨
fan did you guys see the way his girl jumped the fence to get to him after he won? relationship goals fr
schecoperez another red bull 1-2! 💪 ↳ maxverstappen1 you gave me a run for my money at the end there old man! ↳ schecoperez less of the old thank you
redbullracing rue when was this ↳ fan admin finding out about max's relationship at the same time as us is so on brand ↳ redbullracing and here i thought we were besties 😔 ↳ maxverstappen1 😉
danielricciardo you look hot in the second photo and it's not just the heat 😍 ↳ fan maxiel lives on ❤️
fan he tagged her as mine BROOOOOO who's got this man so down bad??
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👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, bffstagram and 194 others
🔒 y/nstagram account locked DOWN but it's so worth it for you ❤️
maxverstappen i'm sorry liefje i should have thought about this before inviting you... ↳ y/nstagram i don't regret going maxie,,, and i certainly don't regret hugging you after the race,, i knew what i was getting into, it's just a lot ❤️ ↳ maxverstappen1 ik ben gek op jou ❤️ (i'm crazy about you) ↳ y/nstagram mijn charmante prins ❤️ (my prince charming)
alexandrasaintmleux you do what's best for you ma cocotte 💗 honestly going private at the start of mine and charles' relationship was one of the best things for us ↳ y/nstagram the woe of being a wag 😔
daniel.jpg dude can you accept my follow request ↳ maxverstappen1 you followed her from your jpg acc but not your main? ↳ daniel.jpg never said i was smart ↳ charles_leclerc ^ ↳ georgerussell63 ^ ↳ landonorris ^ ↳ alexandrasaintmleux ^ ↳ carmenmmundt ^ ↳ maxverstappen1 ^ ↳ y/nstagram ^ ↳ oscarpiastri ^ ↳ daniel.jpg oscarpiastri HOW DID YOU GET HERE?? you haven't even MET y/n yet ↳ y/nstagram that's my son watch your tone. ↳ daniel.jpg i am very sorry miss y/n l/n PLEASE let me in ↳ y/nstagram oscarpiastri shall i? ↳ oscarpiastri lemme think on it ↳ daniel.jpg i hate it here
📍 suzuka, japan
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👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, y/nstagram and 1,394,582 others
redbullracing a quick look into max's garage! already over halfway through the season and your current world champion is on track for his 4th year running 💪
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maxverstappen1 you know how we do 👊
fan i see a y/n at the back!! ↳ fan who is y/n? ↳ fan his gf! she was first spotted in jeddah and she's been to quite a few of his races this year! ↳ fan do you have her ig? ↳ fan y/nstagram but it's private!
fan 4 time world champ incoming! ♥️ redbullracing
user lewis is gonna reclaim his title! ↳ fan ok gramps lets get you back to the home
fan best team in the world
user oh the gold digger is back ↳ redbullracing blocked, deleted and reported ↳ fan red bull stand on business ↳ redbullracing no one messes with OUR redbull girl! 👊
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👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 274 others
🔒 y/nstagram did you know red bull gives you wings? 👼
maxverstappen1 must have taken you forever to think of that caption ↳ y/nstagram what can i say you're dating a comedic genius
friend1 damn ma lend me one of those jackets xx ↳ y/nstagram omg pls take one he won't stop giving them to me,,, ↳ friend1 i'll take the white cap too if you're offering 👀 ↳ y/nstagram 🫡
bffstagram the third pic... y/n STAND UP ↳ y/nstagram he has the prettiest eyes 😍 my man my man my maaaaan ↳ bffstagram we've lost her boys...
alexandrasaintmleux i see the ferrari jacket 👀 ↳ y/nstagram max nearly threw me out of the room fr ↳ maxverstappen1 you deserved it ↳ maxverstappen1 also i'm burning it when you're not looking ↳ y/nstagram charlie gave it to me :((((( ↳ charles_leclerc yeah max you wouldn't burn sweet charlie's jacket would you? ↳ maxverstappen1 i'd burn you IN the jacket if you don't stop ↳ charles_leclerc 🫦 damn i love when you talk dirty to me ↳ y/nstagram ,,, alexandrasaintmleux should we leave them to it? ↳ alexandrasaintmleux after what you showed me on tumblr... yeah maybe we should
daniel.jpg loving the drip ↳ maxverstappen1 has she still not accepted your main follow request? ↳ daniel.jpg no... i know it's oscars fault somehow ↳ oscarpiastri why am i catching strays? ↳ y/nstagram i watched baku 2018 ,, you're lucky i don't block your jpg account ↳ daniel.jpg THAT WAS SO LONG AGO LET ME INNNNNNN
📍 zandvoort, the netherlands
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👤 maxverstappen1 liked by y/nstagram, maxverstappen1 and 1,998,928 others
redbullracing and maxverstappen1 getting P1 and being crowned a 4 time world champion at the final race of the season AND your home race? max verstappen we tip our hats to you 💙
see 98,284 comments
fan him lifting the trophy and mouthing "this is for you" to y/n i am so lonely oh my god
y/nstagram mijn kampioen ❤️ (my champion) ♥️ redbullracing, maxverstappen1
fan max verstappen world domination!! lets go champ!!!
fan y'know maybe the dutch national anthem isn't too bad...
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👤 maxverstappen1 liked by bffstagram, maxverstappen1 and 290,948 others
y/nstagram i moved to monaco for a degree in french and fell for a dutchman,,,
max, it has been a privilege to know you, to share your happiness and to love and be loved by you. watching you do what you do best fills me with so much joy and i can't wait to see you dominate the track for many more years. here's to you. ik hou van je, mijn kampioen ❤️ (i love you, my champion)
(also hi fans of max, i am very scared about being perceived by so many of you, please be nice ❤️)
maxverstappen1 mijn hart en ziel, ik weet niet hoe ik het in het Engels moet uitdrukken maar bedankt dat je in mijn leven bent gekomen, je maakt alles een beetje mooier. ik hou van je ❤️ (my heart and soul, i don't know how to express it in english but thank you for coming into my life, you make everything a little brighter. i love you) ↳ y/nstagram maxie 🥹 can't wait to celebrate you tonight ❤️
fan hi y/n!!! glad you felt comfortable enough to come off private! we're a nice bunch i promise! (at least most of us are) ♥️ y/nstagram ↳ fan also if anyone is mean to you i will do something that puts me on the national news 🫶
fan we've only seen glimpses of her on tv, max you bagged a baddie DAMN ♥️ maxverstappen1
fan mama y papa ↳ landonorris real ↳ oscarpiastri real
danielricciardo I'M IN !!! ↳ danielricciardo WAIT YOU WENT OFF PRIV??? y/n thats so mean wtf :(
alexandrasaintmleux mon couple préféré 💗 (my favourite couple) ↳ y/nstagram c'est grâce à toi alex, je t'aime 💕 (it's all thanks to you alex, love you)
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👤 y/nstagram liked by y/nstagram, landonorris and 1,386,297 others
maxverstappen1 an appreciation post for mijn liefje. being able to put up with me dragging her halfway across the world nearly every month so i can drive fast cars whilst studying for her degree. graduated top of her class (with an elective in dutch 😉). here's to you and to us. (oh and happy 11 months, i may love you a little bit) ❤️
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y/nstagram my boy ❤️ could't have done it without your support ↳ maxverstappen1 i know, i am an Amazing boyfriend 😉 ♥️ y/nstagram
landonorris congrats y/n! knew there had to be a big brain in that ol' noggin of yours ↳ y/nstagram thanks lan! maybe i can actually teach you some french now 🤓
fan taking a long walk off a very short bridge
redbullracing congratulations to the brains of the couple! hoped you liked the gifts 💙 ↳ y/nstagram a dutch for dummies book, you think you're so funny don't you 😐
fan the flowers 😭😭😭
fan doesn't post about his championship but posts about his girl... need me a man like that
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writteninkat · 4 months ago
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What made you fall for these MHA men?
w/ Bakugou, Kirishima, Midoriya, Todoroki, Kaminari
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warnings: none, just some good ol' fluff
a/n: idk man i feel like most people(me) goes straight to the fucking stage and skips the adorable crush stage
navigation
KATSUKI BAKUGOU
this man is so fucking smart it turns you to goo
whenever you're having trouble with schoolworks/projects/assignments, you sit yourself next to him just to get the work done fast (and he smells and looks good so plus points ig)
find long math problems difficult? mans will take one look at it and immediately start scribbling. probably witchcraft, you don't know.
one moment you're complaining to mina about how your teacher can suck dick after giving you the assigment, the next katsuki has the answer in a box
chemistry problems? mans has the entire table memorized.
history? which one? japanese? american? french?
ah, he also butts in your conversations whenever you get the date wrong.
yeah he teaches you stuff you're having trouble understanding, but he will yell the entire time.
yeah, he teaches the topics worlds better than the teacher ever could but at the cost of your hearing
seeing his name listed along the top students with high marks has you inspired to do just as better as him
you tried confessing by giving him a love letter and he returned it to you with corrections TT (and a note that said: rewrite this and read it to me in person, then I'll take you out for some ramen)
EIJIRO KIRISHIMA
he's the sweetest ever, who wouldn't fall for him?
you're having terrible period cramps? this man will have a 'period aid box' filled with sweets, sanitary products, pain relievers, a heating pad, and more of your favorite things delivered to your door
it's pouring and you forgot your umbrella?
if he has an umbrella: will obv share it with you and doesn't care if half his body gets drenched, what matters is you're dry
no umbrella: takes off his uniform jacket/vest and drapes it over you. you'll end up damp but hey, he tried his best
whenever there's a new place, (restaurant, fair, amusement park, etc.) you're the first one he's asking to join him. and you always go. and he always pays.
hurt yourself? scraped a knee, got a bruise, muscle ache? he has a first aid pouch in his bag just for you
always walks you to class, always struggles with you when doing homework, always brings you your favorite food/drink
problem? he does all of this and will still call you a 'friend'. 'best friend' if you're lucky.
yeah, this adorable boy has no idea all the shit he does has you falling head over heels in love for him
IZUKU MIDORIYA
the way he's so passionate about what he loves, then catches himself being so open about it, then blushes, has you swooning
it was a normal day when you asked him about all might. you ended up listening to him for two hours ranting and sharing
you thought, 'how cute.' and then remembered you had piles of homework to do. and then he offered to help you with them while still talking about all might
he's also incredible passionate about being a hero
the way he talks about keeping the weak and needy safe has your heart clenching
whenever you get hurt during quirk training? he drops everything to take you to the nurse
feel insecure about yourself? he goes on a never ending tangent about how you're enough and how amazing you are
whenever you feel like you aren't gonna reach a goal, he's right there to pump you back up
whenever you tease him about being handsome or cute, he gets all flushed and shy, he makes you wanna just nibble on his cheeks!
problem here? he does that with everyone.
he's an inherintly good person, so you can't blame him for it, you can only blame yourself for thinking you were special to him.
or are you?
SHOTO TODOROKI
you're a yapper. you're running your mouth twenty four-seven. and twenty four hours every day, he listens. quietly.
at first you thought he was just ignoring you, but he brings up what you babbled about from time to time.
you talked about your mom being in the hospital. the next day, your mom's calling you to tell 'your classmate i said thank you for the fruits'.
mmhmm. he gave your mom fruits as a 'get well soon' gift.
shoto listens to every word you say, even when you don't realize you're saying them
"i heard the smoothie at that new diner was good." next day, there's a take out smoothie on your desk
"remind me to get pads tomorrow." your desk is filled with every single kind of sanitary product you could think of, from wings, non wings, long, dry, thick, thin, day, night.
"does anybody have an extra pen-" he places his pencil case on your table.
you don't even have to ask him and he's already working on getting you whatever you want. swoon.
another thing that made you fall? he'll let you do anything to him
class is boring and you wanna draw? he'll give you his hands
wanna practice some hairstyles? his hair is incredibly soft and tame for that.
how about make up looks? wanna practice that? he's sitting cross legged on the floor of your dorm as you brush on whatever color on his face
he's totally fine with letting you do whatever you want. and you wanna know the best part? he only lets you do it.
DENKI KAMINARI
this man cracks you up with no fail
the way denki's so easy to talk to and have fun with makes you feel so safe and secure
he's got every kind of humor in his chamber
dad jokes? "what did the blanket say as it fell off the bed? oh sheet!"
corny jokes? "how many lips does a flower have? tu-lips."
dark humor? "why can't orphans play baseball? cause they don't know where home is!"
yeah- the last one you two whisper to each other during class and get sent out of the room for laughing too loud
you don't remember a day where you spent with him and you weren't laughing. you just feel so light and happy, he's like a drug to you
this dynamic between the both of you confuses people. some look at the both of you and think you're a duo misfit who constantly gets called out during class, and some give you teasing looks
when you started to notice these feelings for him, you couldn't help but grin at the thought of marrying your best friend.
what made you really feel for him though?
when you were sick for a day, your classmates came back to the dorms begging you to fet better quickly cause apparently the room was depressing
even katsuki cursed you out for being sick
apparently denki's mood affected everybody. and that mood was-
"today was tiring without you there." denki sighs, staring at nothing while the heat of his body beside you comforts you completely. it's always like this with him- warm, peaceful, happy.
"awe, did you miss me you big baby?" you tease, poking his side.
denki turns his head towards you, eyes holding a million words he wants to say, but for some reason, can't.
"i did." his eyes trail down your nose and to your lips. "so much."
your lips part, heart about to beat out of your rib cage. your mouth feels dry and you can't help the desire to tell him everything you feel for him- but you can't. you don't wanna risk ruining your friendship.
"yellow," he calls. ever since you laughed at his joke for the first time, he's been calling you yellow. he says your laugh magically brightens the room, the sight of your smile lifting the heaviness on his shoulder. "smile for me?"
and you do.
and he does.
and you know you're extraordinarily, remarkably, so very fucked when it comes to this man.
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bth3cowboi · 8 months ago
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paint me in lovely red, mv1xreader
masterlist
pairing: max verstappen x artist!reader
summary: a tiny slip can make your most beautiful secrets public. Sometimes the slip comes in the form of a painting, sometimes the secret is a relationship with a world champion.
format: social media au
a/n: all paintings used here were made by Malcolm Liepke! Part 1/?
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( instagram )
verstappen1updates
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liked by fanuser and 500,233 others
verstappen1updates Max just admitted that he’s in a relationship on stream! Transcript of the clip for those asking:
G: Max, they’re asking about the new painting in the background. I haven’t seen it before either.
M: Ah yes, that was a gift for the championship win from- [Stops to keep driving]. Well, my girlfriend really.
G: [Laughs] That’s cute, she’s great at painting. Oh- they’re surprised now- [Laughs] about your girl.
M: Ah- We just like to keep to ourselves, mate.
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user1 YO WHAT???
user2 and just like that we’ve lost him🥲
user3 u don’t know that man
user2 a girl can dream…
user4 sooo whos the girl?? I want to know noww
user5 a whole picture of his winning car??? she must be HOOKED
user6 after that season i cant blame her
( twitter )
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( instagram )
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1 and others
yourusername Spring is coming so new prints are out on my online shop!! Make sure to check them out💛🧡🍋
From the vault: “my yellow mirror II”, oil on canvas, 18x24. Also: my bike, me.
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user1 I just came expecting more Max honestly
user2 SAME
user3 the only thing interesting on this page
user4 ok seeing her now I get why Max let her paint him like that😂 shes cute
user5 paint me like one of your french girls- max, probably
yourfriend beautiful as always Yn🥹🫶 only focus on that
liked by yourusername and maxverstappen1
yourusername thanks bby🫶
user6 oh girl stop being so dramaticcc
user7 drop the painting of the car instead, this is boring
user8 i get it know, date rich so you can afford to do your silly paintings🤯
maxverstappen1 just lovely
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comments on this post have been disabled
( messages )
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( instagram )
inthef1paddock
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liked by fanuser and 876.334 others
inthef1paddock Max Verstappen and girlfriend Yn Ln caught together after she arrived to Melbourne for the Australian GP.
The driver had to ask through his instagram stories for fans to respect their privacy and Yn’s career after people flooded her social media with disrepectful comments, he did so by posting this selfie.
Mean comments will be deleted.❤️
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user1 People are so rude, its obvious they love each other
user2 Oh that hug🥹 what a lucky girl
user3 Did you see the video? He RAN to her, shes blessed
user4 idk she still seems weird…
lando.jpg
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 698.442 others
lando.jpg 🇦🇺 nights
tagged charlesleclerc, maxverstappen1 and yourusername;
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user1 last photo made me SCREAM, MAX???
user2 Lando is so crazy for this lol
user3 From Charles dropping it low to a hard launch he knows his public
charles_leclerc 😎😎
yourusername 🕺🕺📸📸
charles_leclerc You mean 💋💋📸📸?
maxverstappen1 Lando wont post those because he is lonely and he will cry
landonorris mate thats not true
yourusername its ok to be single lando we dont care you cried to our happy photos
landonorris I did NOT cry 🤢 you guys made me sickkkkk
charles_leclerc sick to tears
maxverstappen1 😂😂
landonorris Stoppp
landonorris Dont know what its worse, the kissy photos or the porn paintings
yourusername not porn🖕
maxverstappen1 Dont be rude🖕
yourusername I will paint you crying now idc you crybaby
landonorris Sure😂
charlesleclerc Famous last words
user4 its ok Lando I will take 💋 pictures with you
user5 me toooo, I volunteer 🤩
maxverstappen1 Please send me the rest of Yn’s photos👍
liked by landonorris and 5021 others
user6 oh wow i get lando now this is so sweet its sick😭
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc and others
yourusername “Lando Norris, the crybaby”, oil on canvas, 24x30.
Prints will be available online soon🧡
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user1 Oh she ate this one up😭😭
landonorris NO YN
landonorris YN THIS IS SO MEAN
landonorris why would you do this😭😭 I didnt think you were serious
yourusername See, crybaby
carlossainz55 Dont worry Landito you dont look too bad
landonorris 😭😭😭
user3 LMFAO THIS IS SO FUNNY
user2 the devil work fast, but yn works faster
danielricciardo Jesus how much for this one, I will give ANYTHING
charlesleclerc No man ask for your own, this one is mine
maxverstappen1 This is not leaving my house👍 good luck
charles_leclerc WHAT? NOT FAIR, YN I WILL PAY TOO MUCH
danielricciardo Whatever he pays I will give double
yourusername Sorry its been bought already
charles_leclerc ???
mclaren Thank you Yn, this will look great in our hall 🧡🧡
yourusername 🧡🫶
landonorris WHAT
charles_leclerc oh my god
landonorris NO WAY
user4 SOLD TO MCLAREN? this is a fever dream
user5 I, too, want a portrait of me kissing max verstappen
user6 I respect Yn so much, cause she went from making tittie art of her bf to paint their friend crying while they makeout in the background
maxverstappen1 Lovely😂
maxverstappen1 Can I request one but without the crybaby?
yourusername I have a few already 🤔 whats one moree
user7 DROP THEM, I KNOW YOU HAVE THE HOT ONES TOO
charles_leclerc Dont drop them please think of the children
yourusername wow youre so boring
maxverstappen1 Make fun of him on a painting for that baby
danielricciardo I will pay for that one this time
charles_leclerc God no have mercy
yourusername dont worry i wont do that, being a ferrari driver is punishment enough
charles_leclerc 😐
landonorris LOL DESERVED
maxverstappen1 Love you my Yn❤️❤️
yourusername love you too🥹🥹
——
a/n: Thank you for reading!!! I might do a second part to this fic, I think there is so much more to do with the plot so if anyone is interesed make sure to stick around❤️🥹 My inbox is now open if anyone has suggestions or ideas they want to se me writw!
2K notes · View notes
s-awturn · 2 months ago
Text
Other Plans || F1 Grid
cw: babies being cute, still a little anguish, overcoming, deliverance (hehehehe) and I don't know what else to say. Spanish, French, and some poorly translated Dutch, blame Google.
starring: LH44, CS55, CL16, LN4, OP81, MV1,
a/n: I rarely get requests for part 2, so don't judge me if I'm excited here. I loved writing the first part and I hope to make the second part just as good.
f i r s t p a r t
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LEWIS HAMILTON.
You never regretted leaving.
As you might have guessed, Lewis never called or cared and even though you knew he wouldn't call, it didn't hurt any less. You had hopes that he would care, that he would come around, but he never took a step towards you and you wouldn't make the first move. You and the baby — a healthy, restless girl —didn’t need him.
The first few months were not easy, by God, dealing with all the changes of pregnancy, the demands of work, as well as cleaning and organizing your home was the hardest thing in the world.
But it was all worth it when you held your little girl in your arms for the first time. Bree was beautiful and had powerful lungs, because she cried so loudly when you laughed with happiness at having her. Not even the fact that she had the same eyes as Lewis shook his happiness. She was yours, and nothing in the world would change that.
You, your mother and Bree were walking down one of the streets of London looking for Christmas decorations, Bree was on your lap, looking at everything curiously, you hadn't taken her to London yet, both because you wanted her to get used to the climate and the quiet life in Naples and because of fear, you still didn't feel ready to face Lewis, because you knew he was always in England, mainly in the capital.
“Mamma, look!” she pointed to the store across the street, with the Christmas decorations you were looking for. You gave a proud smile and kissed her cheek.
“Good job, little bee, let’s go get our colorful balls from Santa Claus” you crossed the street and due to carelessness, you ended up tripping over someone. “Oops, sorry, I didn’t y-...” you started to say, however your voice trailed off as you recognized fucking Lewis Hamilton.
“Y/N?” His eyes, identical to Bree’s, widened as he recognized you and the baby in your arms. You straightened up, hugging Bree against you.
“Lewis, how are you?” you said cordially, but there was no sympathy in your voice.
“Mhmm, Well, I'm fine... And you?”
“Wonderfully,” you remained impassive. “Well, Merry Christmas, Lewis,” you said, walking past him until your name was called by the pilot.
“I thought you would give me news...” he hesitated for a few seconds “news about her” Lewis’ eyes fell on Bree, who was looking at him with the same curiosity.
“And why should I, Lewis? You said you didn’t want to have a baby, that it would hinder your career.” You hit a nerve with Lewis, because since your departure, he couldn't help but wonder if he had done the right thing. “I had no obligation and have no obligation to give you news about my daughter.”
He came closer and you kept Bree away from him, you accepted and healed from the pain Lewis caused you, but you wouldn't allow him to do the same to your sweet little girl. Bree didn't deserve to be hurt by Lewis's selfishness.
“She’s mine too, Y/N, you can’t stop me from seeing her” he said and you finally lost your patience, so you asked your mother to take Bree to the store, you would meet them in a few minutes.
“Don’t use that horrible argument with me, Lewis Hamilton!” you pointed your finger in his face. “You made it clear that you didn’t want her! You never called to find out about her, not for me or my mother, so don’t come with ��she’s mine too’ because I won’t fall for that! You didn't even think twice before saying you didn't want her! And now you want to demand your rights? What the fuck rights do you think you have?”
He took a step back, Lewis didn't expect you to have such an intense outburst of anger.
“Y/N, I-I wanted to turn things around, go after you,” he bit his lip, thinking about how to continue, “but I was embarrassed... But now I'm willing-...”
“But I’m not willing, Bree doesn’t need you, I don’t.” you said emphatically “My daughter doesn’t need you, your regret or anything that comes from you!”
He tried to articulate some sentence, but no sound came out of his mouth.
“Oh, that is if you have any shame, of course. But don’t worry, when Bree grows up, I’ll tell her about you and she’ll decide whether she wants you in her life or not.” You assured “Until then, continue being the ghost you have been for these two years”
And without giving him a chance to respond, you follow your mother and Bree into the store, trying to ignore the panic that was ravaging your entire body, you felt like you were about to faint. But hearing Bree's spontaneous, sweet laugh was like feeling a cool breeze on a hot day; you didn't know how, but you were sure that Lewis would stay away.
And you didn't lie, Bree didn't need him, and neither did you. Your job was more than enough to maintain and take care of all of Bree's needs, you didn't lie when you said he wasn't needed, in nothing.
Finally you could sleep peacefully knowing that Lewis was what he wanted to be in your lives, a shadow.
On the sidewalk, Lewis saw you enter the store and through the window, he could see you and Bree together, it was clear how much the little girl was loved and well cared for. Lewis tried to imagine what the two years he had lost of his life, of the life of the daughter whose name he didn't even know, had been like. He thought of all the little moments he had missed.
There were few things Lewis truly regretted in his life, and letting you go and not being able to see Bree grow up was, without a doubt, the biggest regret he carried.
CARLOS SAINZ.
Sometimes you wondered how you had the courage to consider the idea of giving your twins up for adoption. You weren't lying when you said that the twins were the best part of your life. At five years old, the identical twins made your days in the French capital — the city you moved to after breaking up with Carlos — much happier and more joyful.
You didn't even care if the two of them were little carbon copies of the Carlos; Santiago, the older twin, seemed to have inherited much of Carlos' personality, he was a little reserved and even shy and loved board games, preferred books to any electronic game and loved football, while Martín had a lot of you in him, expansive and restless, your youngest son loves logic games like Rubik's cube and puzzles and was completely addicted to any kind of racing.
And they were little fanatical Atlético de Madrid fans, which you found sweet irony.
And it was this love for the Spanish club that convinced you to take them to Spain, so that the two could watch the Madrid Derby at the Cívitas Metropolitano, Atlético's official stadium in the city of Madrid. Thanks to your work as a digital influencer, you could give your twins the experience of watching the game directly from the stadium's box.
“C'est le meilleur cadeau d'anniversaire au monde! Merci maman!” (This is the best birthday present in the world! Thanks mommy!) Martín said, hugging you before running to the fence and seeing the field, where the players were warming up.
“Tu es la meilleure au monde, maman” (You are the best in the world, mommy) Santiago said before joining his brother at the railing. You sat down next to Andie.
“I didn’t think you were serious when you said you were going to bring them to Madrid just to watch the game,” her best friend said, also keeping her eyes on the twins.
“It’s their birthday and I had to come to Madrid anyway for work, so I thought I could combine business with pleasure... And I don’t plan on stopping my boys from having good experiences because of Carlos.”
In five years, you never received a text or call from Carlos to see how the twins were doing, or to see how you were handling things. Since their birth, it had been you, the twins, and Andie —she moved to Paris as well. You weren't lying, the first few months were horrible, you truly believed that you wouldn't be a good mother or be able to take care of two babies at the same time.
But Andie was an angel to you and your boys, helping you through the best and worst times. So much so that before long, Carlos was just an old and unwanted memory in your life.
When the game went into halftime, you and Andie took the boys to the snack bar in the box to get something to eat. You hadn't noticed that you were being watched since you entered the diner, Carlos had seen you, Andie and the boys entering. The pilot didn't expect to find you there, especially with two boys who looked like they were five years old.
Without thinking twice, he approached, keeping his eyes on the boys who wore Atlético shirts and their names on the back.
Santiago and Martín.
“Y/N?” he said fearfully, catching her attention. Carlos saw surprise flash in her eyes, but as quickly as it appeared, it was replaced by icy indifference. "How long"
“That’s right, it’s been a long time.” You placed your hands on the boys’ shoulders, aware that they were both shocked.
“C'est Carlos Sainz” Martín spoke softly to Santiago with wide eyes, not that Carlos was his favorite pilot, but the boy didn't expect you to know the pilot.
“These are Martín and Santiago, my sons.” You said, introducing the boys, watching the astonishment appear on Sainz’s face.
“What’s up guys? Enjoying the game?” he said, after a few seconds of shock. You knew what was going on in his head, Carlos was doing the math.
“We don’t talk to Real Madrid fans,” Santiago said with indifference and pulled Martín away from Carlos. You were so surprised that you laughed out loud, watching Carlos’ discomfort grow even more.
“I’m going after the brats and… And I think you guys need to talk,” Andie said, following the twins back to the to their seats.
You turned completely to Carlos, for a long time you missed him, especially when you wanted him to see the boys' first steps or when they spoke for the first time. You wanted him to see how special and good your children were, but he never cared.
It took a while, but eventually it stopped hurting.
Since then, all you felt was pity, because Martín and Santiago were absurdly adorable, loving and incredible children, anyone who could have them in their lives was lucky as hell.
“I didn't think I would go through with the pregnancy" he said and you sighed.
“And I wasn’t going to, but everything changed when I held them in my arms for the first time... I knew I could never leave them” you said and a smile appeared on your face.
“My parents would love to meet you... I would like to-” He starts to say but you interrupt him, already tired of that conversation.
“You wouldn’t like anything, Carlos, you have nothing to offer my boys but abandonment and cowardice,” you replied harshly.
He swallowed hard, Carlos looked embarrassed and regretful, but you didn't care, just like he didn't care about leaving you alone in that hospital.
“Y/N please understand, I wasn’t ready and-”
“I wasn’t either, Carlos,” you interrupted him, having no patience for his excuses. “I was simply thrown alone, in the middle of the hurricane, so if that’s your excuse, improve it.”
Your gaze towards him was hard, there really was nothing that could justify abandoning him.
“If it weren’t for Andie, I don’t even know where I would be right now! Maybe they’d both be in an orphanage or something, living on the streets.” Your voice was forceful, punishing, and accurate. “I almost, almost acted like a coward with them too, but I remembered that they had already lost their father, they couldn't be without their mother too.”
Carlos hunched over slightly, like you had just hit him in the face and damn, he wished you had.
“I will tell them about you, everything they want to know and if they want to look for you, I will not stop them, but until then, do not think that your presence near them will be welcome”
And you went back to where Andie and the boys were, you were surprised to notice that Martín hadn't taken his eyes off you for a moment. Your protective little boy...
You swallowed a painful sigh and stopped the tears from welling up in your eyes.
“Est-ce qu'il t'a fait du mal, maman?” (Did he hurt you, mommy?) He asked as soon as you sat down, you gave a calm smile and denied.
“It’s okay, honey, don’t worry.” you assured, sliding your fingers through his hair, Martín kept his eyes on you. “Are you enjoying the game?”
“Damn!” he said excitedly and you narrowed your eyes.
“What language is that, young man?” you asked, and he smiled as if he had been caught red-handed.
“It was an accident, mommy... Don't be mad, please,” he asked, making the same lost puppy face that Carlos had. My God, you thought it was impossible for them to look so much alike, but the twins were in fact carbon copies of Carlos.
“Go watch the game, I’m watching you” he nodded and ran to Santiago’s side, you sighed and saw Andie sit next to you. “I thought it would be worse”
“Me too... But you did well, to be honest, I thought you were going to throw the chair at him” Andie confessed and you laughed.
“Almost... I'll tell them the truth when we get back to Paris... And I'll let them decide whether they want to approach him or not.” you said, trying to keep your nervousness from setting in ahead of schedule. You would deal with the consequences when they came, that moment was just about the boys, would not spoil it with anxious thoughts and nervousness.
On the other side of the box, Carlos couldn't pay attention to the game, his mind was divided between the game and you and the twins. Carlos thought about how selfish he had been, he thought about how he would like to go back in time and change everything, to be able to live every little moment with you and the boys.
Carlos would like to be less stupid, but there was no way anymore.
CHARLES LECLERC.
After almost seven years, you were back in France, your parents were asking — or demanding, depending on your point of view — that you and Vivienne spend Mother's Day in the south of France. It was the first time since Vivienne was born that you had returned to Europe and although you loved the feeling of being home again, you couldn't help but be apprehensive, after all you didn't know if you were prepared for the possibility of meeting Charles. But you didn't let those thoughts ruin Vivienne's experience, the girl looked like she was going to explode at any moment with so much happiness.
The two of you took the train from Paris to Bordeaux, and Vivienne couldn't tear herself away from the window, enchanted by the romantic landscape of the French countryside, she commented on every little thing, unable to contain the excitement that made her shine.
“Let’s go to the dining car, amour, You need to eat.” You called her, trying to attract the girl’s attention, who seemed much more interested in the castle that disappeared through the train window.
“Will there be croissants, maman?” Vivienne finally turned away from the window.
“Of course, amour. Let’s go before they eat it all, shall we?” you led her out into the hallway, Vivienne chattered on and on, listing the things she had liked the most so far, that's why she still made a point of greeting the other passengers.
“It’s more beautiful here than Montreal, Mom...”
“Would you like to live here?”
She stopped in the hallway for a few seconds before turning to you, the indecision was clear on her little face “I don’t think so, I would miss home... And my friends, but we can come on vacation?”
“We can come to France whenever possible, amour.” you assured her.
The dining car was half full, but that wasn't what caught his attention, but rather coming across such familiar crystal-clear eyes. You knew the chances of meeting Charles in France were 50-50, but you didn't expect it to happen so quickly; suddenly you remembered why you spent so long away from your homeland. You saw Charles' smile disappear and his gaze fall on the girl in front of him, who, although she didn't look exactly like him, carried many of Leclerc's features in her own features.
“Let's sit at the table by the window, okay maman?” Vivienne asked, skipping over to the empty table, she didn’t even look to the side as she passed Charles.
"Of course, papillon, (butterfly) we can sit wherever you want.” You said, thankful that your voice came out steady, without showing the mess that was inside you.
You made Vivienne sit with her back to Charles, listening to the girl talk excitedly about the fields full of vineyards and the lavender plantations. Vivienne knew from the age of five because it was just you and her, you didn't want to wait too long to tell her the truth behind why just you were the one who went to the Father's Day presentations at her school. You remembered the pain tearing through your chest as you comforted your little girl who went to sleep crying for weeks on end, or all the times she asked why her father didn't like her. You wouldn't let anything bring that pain to Vivienne again, even if you had to throw Charles Leclerc out the train window.
“You’re not the waiter.” Vivienne’s inquisitive voice snapped you out of your reverie and you looked up to find Charles standing next to your table. Panic spread through you like wildfire. Vivienne knew that the man standing next to the table was her father, you didn't do much to hide it. “If you’re not the waiter, why did you come?”
“You have your mother’s sharp tongue,” he said, and you noticed the shadow of a smile on his face. “I’m Charles—”
“Leclerc, I know, I watch TV” she said, crossing her fingers on the table, you blinked a little dazed and took control of the situation, Vivienne didn't need to face a situation like that, not with you around to protect her, as you had been doing since her birth.
“What do you want, Charles?” you questioned seriously, the seven years away from him made you create a strong shield against the pilot's charm. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked at you, there was no anger or contempt in his gaze, it had taken you the same seven years to understand that it had all been a huge failure in communication, however, that did not allow this to cause any more harm to Vivienne.
“I...” he stuttered, his gaze going from you to Vivienne without stopping “I came to greet you and...” he left the sentence hanging in the air, waiting for you or your daughter to reveal her name.
“You don’t need to know my name,” Vivienne said and your eyes widened.
You saw Charles' mouth open in pure astonishment, if you weren't expecting an answer like that, imagine him.
“What do you want, Charles? I don’t remember inviting you to join us,” you teased, enjoying his discomfort. You could forgive what had happened years ago, after all it wasn't anyone's fault he didn't want kids, but you fucking couldn't forget how it destroyed Vivienne for weeks. “Your girlfriend is waiting for you, and you are disturbing us.”
“Y/N I wanted to say that I'm sorry that all of this happened and...” his voice becomes a weak and distant thread, you just shake your head and raise your hand.
“There is nothing to be forgiven, Charles. That's in the past, there's no reason to bring it up again," you said sincerely, letting out a tired sigh. You wanted it to end soon, you wanted to get to Bordeaux soon. “Forget about it, leave everything in the past and go back to your girlfriend, we've been fine the last seven years without you, the next seven will be even easier, don't waste time worrying about us, we don't need you.”
He hadn't meant to be cruel or rude, but he wouldn't allow a sliver of it to reach Vivienne. Charles just nodded and walked away, you looked at Vivienne, who had tears in her eyes.
“Ma princesse,” you grabbed her hand, watching the little girl swallow her tears and give a weak smile.
“It’s okay, mom, I have you, it’s okay,” she said and went back to looking at the landscape through the window. You noticed that Charles had left. “I don’t need a father who didn’t want me”
You left the chair you were in and went to hug Vivienne, letting the girl feel how much she was loved, how much she didn't need Charles “I'm so proud of you, darling, so proud”
Outside, Charles was hyperventilating, he hadn't expected it to end like this, nor had he expected it to feel like a punch to his stomach. Suddenly, he questioned whether the choices he had made over the past seven years were good. But it didn't matter anymore, he had lost you and any chance of having... Having a family he never wanted.
It was already too late.
LANDO NORRIS.
Jordan looked at the cupcake with bright eyes, you wanted to cry when you saw the smile on your little boy's face. It was late afternoon and you wanted Jordan to be able to celebrate his first birthday on the beach, creating sand castles and playing with water.
“Happy birthday, my baby, I wish you to be blessed with happiness and love throughout your life.” you whispered, helping him blow out the candle. Jordan chuckled, grabbing the icing, smearing the blue sweetness all over his face. You let Jordan play in the sand and thought about everything that led them to that little beach in Spain.
After breaking up with Lando and receiving a court order that he didn't want to be related to you or the baby, you didn't know what to do with your life, I had a college degree, good internship experiences, but no one would hire a pregnant woman. With limited options and no support network, you've relied on the most unstable form of work: the internet. Your life wasn't the most glamorous or adventurous in the world, but people enjoyed watching you. You didn't care about fame or being known in places, you just wanted to make sure you could take care of the baby, make sure he always had a roof over his head and food on the table. No matter what shit you would do to make sure Jordan lacked for nothing.
Anything but crawling after Lando, begging for help or whatever the hell he could give.
You let Jordan play until he got tired, and only when the boy was almost asleep in the sand, you picked him up and decided to go back to the hotel. You balanced Jordan on your lap as you searched for your room key when you heard your name being called. You didn't expect to find Lando Norris in the lobby of the hotel you were staying at.
Not even by a miracle.
“What do you want here, Norris?” you asked, but you didn’t give him time to answer, you just continued on your way to the elevator. You heard him follow you and kept Jordan out of his sight.
“I want to talk to you,” he said tentatively. You stood in the opposite corner of the elevator, as far away from Lando as possible. “Is it his birthday?”
“And why does that matter to you, Norris? You’re nothing to him,” you said dryly, giving him a hard look.
He didn't even know what to answer, you couldn't understand what he was doing there, not after a year and seven months, not after that damn letter. What did he want there? Guarantee you wouldn't ask him for money? Ridiculous.
“If you want to know if I need your money, don’t worry, we don’t need anything from you”
Lando exhaled, you wouldn't give him a step, leaving him frustrated.
“I didn’t come for this... I know you’re... You’re dealing with everything well, I wanted...”
“What do you want, Norris? To see if I'm trying to scam someone to support my son? Being a gold digger?”
“Y/N I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, been...”
“What do you regret? Saying that I got pregnant so you could support me? That I wanted to pull the pregnancy scam on you? Or have you come to give me another court notice to deny your parentage with Jordan? If that's the case, don't worry, if it's up to me, your name will never be on Jordan's birth certificate.”
If shame had a portrait, it would be Lando's face.
“Please understand my side...”
“Your side, Norris? I was pregnant and you sent me away!!” you growled, trying not to wake Jordan in your arms. “I didn’t want money, I wanted support! I wanted you!”
You scoffed at the tears in his eyes, none of them made up for the times you cried alone, scared of the uncertain future you could have. If he thought you would be moved by his crying, he couldn't be more wrong. The elevator doors opened and you walked out, not caring about him following you.
“I’m sorry, I was scared!”
“I was too!” you lost your patience and heard Jordan’s whimpers. “Were you scared? Don’t be a hypocrite, Lando.”
“Let me... Let me apologize, let me take care of you two.”
“You can swallow your apologies, they’re worth nothing to me or Jordan, and as for your care…” you laughed “I won’t tell you what to do with it out of respect for my son.”
And with that, you slammed the door in his face. Hoping that Lando would go back to the same place he had come from.
MAX VERSTAPPEN.
Just as nothing hurt you more than Max's distrust, Annelise's birth healed you in immeasurable ways. The little girl became the little Sun in your world, illuminating corners you thought you would no longer visit after the breakup with Max.
When you left his house in Monaco, you spent a few days on standby, thinking about what to do, you had no one else to support you. You didn't know how, but before you knew it, you were standing on Sophie's doorstep in Belgium, you didn't expect to have the support of your ex-mother-in-law, but Sophie welcomed you with open arms, outraged by Max's attitude.
Sophie welcomed you as if you were her own daughter, helped you choose an apartment in Brussels — even though she wanted you to stay with her for as long as it took, she helped you in the first few months after Annelise was born.
Now, two years later, Annelise was spending so much time at her grandmother's house that Sophie had set up a room for her.
“Sophie, for God’s sake, don’t spoil Anne like that,” you scolded her, seeing the woman click her tongue and shrug, you knew your sermons would do no good, Sophie would continue buying gifts for Annelise.
“Nah, it’s nothing big and you know I’m not stopping any time soon,” she admitted, bouncing the little girl on her lap, Annelise was very entertained by the new teddy bear Sophie had brought. “How was the job interview? Did you get the job?”
You had applied for a job at the health center near your home, the hours were great, the pay was worth it, you just needed to find someone to look after Sophie.
“I was selected, but I need to find a good nanny to take care of Anne...”
“Y/N don’t be silly, you know I will take care of Anne with the greatest pleasure, I love taking care of her.”
“Sophie, I don’t want to give you any trouble...” you started to try to argue.
“Mom! I’m home... Y/N?” you saw Max standing in the middle of the room, staring at you in surprise, then looking at Annelise on Sophie’s lap.
“Max, you didn’t tell me you were coming, come in, I made your favorite cake, go get it from the kitchen, dear” Sophie said, she knew you weren’t ready to talk to Max yet, but the Dutchman had different plans.
You held your arms out to Annelise, who didn't think twice before jumping into your lap, you did your best to avoid Max's gaze.
“We’re going, Sophie... I’ll let you know when we get home,” you said in a whisper and crossed the room towards the exit, but Max grabbed your bicep, stopping you from leaving.
“We need to talk, Y/N... Just five minutes, please,” he said quietly, as soothingly as he could.
“We have nothing to talk about, Max.”
“Please, just five minutes,” he begged, giving Annelise a quick glance in his lap.
“Five minutes, no more.” You said, releasing your arm from his grip. “Sophie, can you take Anne please?”
“Of course, it’s no sacrifice for me, is it, mon bebé?”
Finally you and Max were alone, you were uncomfortable to the point that your skin felt itchy.
“I didn’t expect to see you here… I thought you would stay in Monaco”
“I had nothing to keep me in Monaco, I saw no reason to stay there, and Sophie welcomed me as if I were her daughter,” you said, putting your hands in your coat pockets. “Get to the point, Max, I have to go...”
He licked his lips nervously. “I wanted to talk about our daughter.”
“No, no, calm down, you don’t have a daughter, at least not with me, Annelise is my daughter and mine alone, your participation in her conception was purely accidental.” You said it without any emotion.
“I know I said stupid things that night, Y/N, but I want to make up for every single one of them, with you and with the girl” he said and you scoffed.
“Oh really? And what makes you think you have any right to her?”
“Y/N I’m her father” he said patiently, as he always was with you, until that night at least.
“Unless you request a DNA test, there is nothing to prove your paternity over Annelise,” you determined, taking a step towards him, “and don’t think I’m an idiot, Max, you always knew I was in Brussels with your mother, Sophie told you that the same day I arrived, because I highly doubt she didn't give you the biggest lecture of your life that night.”
He looked away, proving his point “and yet you never cared, you didn’t come to her birthday, or call when she had pneumonia, you didn’t even know her name until today, So please don't lie to me saying that you regret it or that you want to be a part of her life.”
You pressed your fingers to your temples, already feeling the pains of the inevitable migraine.
“Annelise will eventually find out about you, but until then, don't go near her, I won't allow you to be cruel to my daughter the way you were to me.” That was your final sentence before you went to get Annelise with Sophie. You didn't want to have to share oxygen with him any more than necessary. Max belonged to a past you didn't want to revisit.
He stood still in place, watching you leave with the girl, without giving you another look.
“There are stupid people, and then there’s you, Max,” Sophie said, approaching her son. “I find it absurd how you inherited Jos’s worst traits...”
He couldn't help but agree, Max was fucking dumb.
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lxclerc · 1 year ago
Text
𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐢 ─ 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔
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summary... in which karma finally bites you in the ass faceclaim... christina nadin pairing... charles leclerc x reader warning... none so far. petty charles and petty reader
note... i need everyone to pretend like all the text messages are in french. also no charles yet but lots of charles in the next part.
series masterlist main masterlist
part one → current part (part two) → part three
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charles leclerc has never been on your podcast. it isn’t for the lack of trying per se but rather out of your own sheer stubbornness and need to protect your pride. chasing red, the motorsport podcast you’d built from the ground up, consists of you and your best friend emma. months ago, emma had emailed charles inviting him as a guest with emma alone as the host. it’s already unusual in itself considering you’re in every episode, but charles had replied to the email with a sort of snarkiness you aren’t used to but definitely not surprised to hear. 
dear emma,
if y/n wants me as a guest then she can contact me herself. thank you. sincerely, charles
it had been short and to the point and you’d rolled your eyes when you read it. if charles wanted to be petty then you’re certainly not about to appear on his doorstep begging him to come on your show. charles seems to forget that he’s gotten his pettiness from you. 
still, after that particularly irritating email, emma had been badgering you to explain what had happened. charles leclerc is the nice guy after all. who else would let ferrari fuck them over as much and still scream forza ferrari at the top of his lungs? according to emma, it’s simply impossible for charles to respond in such a way without some hidden history between the two of you. 
and she wouldn’t be wrong but you’d been able to keep that under wraps pretty well. you’ve kept your past right where it belongs – in the past and in your opinion, there’s simply no need to dig up old bones. of course, up until now as you watched with furrowed brows as your name trended on twitter. it seems no matter how deep you bury old bones, it comes back and haunts you – or in your case, bites you in the ass.
“you dated him!” you winced at emma’s sharp tone. you already feel a headache coming in – you hadn’t expected to be shoved down memory lane at a random tuesday if you’re being completely honest and you’re definitely not in the right state of mind to be dealing with it. 
“keep your voice down,” you say, putting your phone down and allowing yourself a sip of your coffee as you try to ignore emma’s incredulous looks. 
“you dated him?” she says again, in a sarcastic whisper this time that made you roll your eyes. you hated her sometimes. you love her of course, but you really hate her sometimes. 
and you hate whichever idiot got ahold of those photos. everyone seems to have so much to say but they can’t seem to comprehend that the charles and y/n in those photos aren’t the same charles and y/n now. you’re both grown now, no longer little kids fueled only with dreams and ambitions. now you’re fueled entirely by coffee and the will to not stalk his social media. 
you’re over charles leclerc. you’re so over him that you spend all your time applauding yourself just how over him you are. of course, you’ve seen charles around after the break up. you both live in monaco after all. it’s impossible not to accidentally pass by each other walking to the grocery store or be at the same restaurant or the same party. you’ve seen him around the paddock multiple times but neither of you say anything. sometimes your eyes meet and the familiarity in each other is difficult to ignore but mostly, you just walk past each other as though you’re strangers, as if you hadn’t spent your childhood memorizing the patterns in his eyes. 
you groaned at where your mind went. this is the last thing you want to be thinking – or talking – about at eight in the morning. you blame twitter and emma entirely for your predicament. it doesn’t help that you share an apartment with her too. 
“no comment,” you say finally at her expectant face. 
her little evil grin terrifies you as he picks up a stack of papers from the coffee table, placing it in front of you. “i’d suggest clearing the air between the two of you before thursday because you’re spending vegas with ferrari.” 
you almost spit your coffee as you grabbed the paper and double checked. unfortunately, there it is in plain sight, your sponsor team right next to ferrari. the document contains your schedule for vegas as an F1 presenter. you’ve been lucky enough not to be assigned to ferrari since you’ve been assigned the job three months ago. but alas, all your bad karma seems to have finally caught up with you today as you read through your itinerary, the first words being an ice breaker game with carlos sainz and charles leclerc proceeding with a hot lap with one of the drivers on friday. 
oh jesus christ, you’re screwed. 
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yourusername
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liked by arthur_leclerc and others
yourusername vegas ready and sporting red for the weekend!
view all comments...
emmauser very excited for the weekend
⤷ yourusername 🖕🏻
⤷ username emma what do you know
username god have answered all my prayers and forced y/n and charles to finally interact
username watching the childhood lovers to strangers, forced proximity trope in real time
⤷ username i am so invested actually
username her and charles are my roman empire
⤷ username they have consumed every nook and cranny of my feeble brain im afraid
username now what in the booktok is going on
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taglist: @nhlfs @livinglifethroughfanfic @sage-butterflyy @chimchimjiminie16 @thatgirlmj @hiraethrhapsody @roseseraj @celestialams @1655clean @minkyungseokie @ssararuffoni @f1verse @honethatty12 @formulas-bitch @nmw-am @lorarri @erikasurfer @thievin-stealing @glow-ish @raevyng @scenesofobx @coffeehurricanes
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h4m1lt0ns · 1 year ago
Text
HEARTBREAK SYNDROME.
episode nine :: LIFE’S GOOD
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴max verstappen x ex!y/n (barely), multiple x y/n
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au / irl snippets
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔something is brewing at the Y/l/n Records HQ
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ face claim ﹔ wonyoung jang (28)
꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕ SO much happens, worlds colliding on twitter, excessive cussing.
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y/n
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♡ liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, landonorris and 7,205,638 more.
y/n fried my hair last night lol 🌟 blame goes fully to ﹫lilymhe and ﹫alexalbon
2,205,593 comments.
username SO FINE 😩😩😩😩
username one singular chance i beg mother
username THIS BARBIE IS INSANE.
username 😍😍😍😍😍
lilymhe i think you slayed honestly
➜ y/n so true
username THANK YOU LILY THANK YOU ALEX
username HUBBA HUBBA IM IN LOVE
username YOU LOOK SO GOOD ITS SICKENINGGGGGG 😩
username mommy????????????????????
username oh
username oh my god
alexalbon we ate that
➜ y/n devoured even
carlossainz55 yessss french fries look 😍
➜ y/n omfg bitch 😭
username OOOOHHHHHHHHH
username OMFG BARBIE?????
username DKAKEKFKSOWLSKFKW
margotrobbie hi barbie!
➜ y/n hi barbie!
username omgomgomgomgimgomgomg
aussiegrit 😍😍
➜ username I-
➜ username jesus christ he’s down BAD
➜ username twin 😍
username OWAHHHHHHHH
username MOTHER OMFG 😍😍😍😍😍😍
fernandoalo_oficial bonita 😍
➜ username NANDO???????
➜ username ANOTHER DILF OMFG I CANT
➜ username OH MY FUCKING GOD
➜ username i would fold so quick i’m not even joking
➜ username why am EYE blushing??????
username FELL TO MY KNEES.
username OMGFOGMFOMGFOMGHFIMMH
username single just for you y/n 😩😩😩
lewishamilton dolly 💗
[liked by y/n]
➜ username i would’ve crumbled.
➜ username folded like an omelette, scrambled like an egg
➜ username his comment got ME blushing dawg
username holy fucking fuck what the fuck oh my god fuck
username GORGEOUS
username BLONDE HAIR??? IS HEARTBREAK SYNDROME ERA OVER ALREADY???
[liked by y/n]
francisca.cgomes yes.
➜ y/n like what u see baby 🫣
theweeknd 🍟
➜ y/n all of u are BULLIES
carmenmmundt prettiest girl
➜ y/n omg bae i’m blushing 🤭
☆ IMESSAGE with : BOARD OF DIRECTORS.
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honey badger: Y/NNNNNN
chal eclair: BAE AMSWER ME
babygirl alex: wait what’s going on
alabono: WE NEED DETAILSSSS
angel carmen: huh
wifey lily: why are the boys yelling
yukino: WE NEVER FOUND OUT WHAT HAPPENED AT THE DINNER WITH JENSON, LEWIS AND MARK
my baby lando: MOTHER WHERE ARE YOU
princess george: OMFG BITCH PICK UP
girlfriend kika: we got the tea baes relax 😌
PIERRE GASLYYYY: WOWWWWWWW OKAY
honey badger: WHY ARE WE THE LAST TO FIND THINGS OUT
angel carmen: bc we’re her girlfriends 🤨
babygirl alex: exactly 🥰
chili!: y/n 😀
chili!: bae 😄
chili!: your time will come.
chal eclair: kika, you shall come forth.
chal eclair: speak the truth you hide.
babygirl alex: taking that lord perceval real serious huh
my baby lando: LMFAO
princess george: LMAOOOO
alabono: stfu y’all i’m tryna understand
girlfriend kika: funny enough nothing REALLY happened
angel carmen: yeah they just hung out and talked
wifey lily: oh and jenson was flirty w y/n
my baby lando: yeah we saw the photos
babygirl alex: they went out as a way to cheer lewis up bc his team didn’t show up for him
angel carmen: i dont know what’s going on between y/n and lewis but she said lewis got kinda jealous when mark and jenson were casually flirting w her
my baby lando: oh????
PIERRE GASLYYYY: jealous you say
honey badger: HMMMMM
chili!: right ????
chal eclair: it’s actually soOOoo
alabono: it isssss
princess george: speaking of lewis
princess george: apparently him and y/n are like hanging out
yukino: wait what???
my baby lando: wdym
princess george: wait did you not see y/n’s story??? they’re on his yacht in monaco
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y/n added to their story!
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seen by lewishamilton, jensonbutton and 98,295,194 more.
lewishamilton replied to your story!
😍😍😍
come be hot in front of me
jensonbutton replied to your story!
pretty pretty girl
aussiegrit replied to your story!
my boat next?
sebastianvettel replied to your story!
what a sight you are schatz
fernandoalo_oficial replied to your story!
you’re coming to the japanese gp right?
☆ IMESSAGE with : BOARD OF DIRECTORS.
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chili!: WOAHHHH I JUST SAW IT
yukino: WHATS GOING ONNNNNN
babygirl alex: she’s so fucking hot, first of all
angel carmen: no bc i just stared at her 😍
wifey lily: I KNOWWWW
girlfriend kika: she’s so 😩😩😩
babygirl alex: BUT LEWIS???
chal eclair: SHE TAGGED HIM???
babygirl alex: PUBLICLY???
alabono: NOW WHATS GOING ON
my baby lando: KIKA EXPLAIN
girlfriend kika: IM JUST AS SHOOK AS YALL
angel carmen: I NEED TO KNOW
princess george: i was hoping the girls knew something abt that 😭😭😭
honey badger: Y/N GET IN HERE
honey badger: Y/N OMFG
chili!: BRO I KNOW YOURE SEEING THIS ANSWER US
wifey lily: DID HE ASK YOU OUT
my baby lando: IS IT A DATE???
girlfriend kika: IS ROSCOE THERE??
PIERRE GASLYYYY: ARE YALL ONE ON ONE??
alabono: Y/N TEXT US BACK OMFG
wifey lily: SHE’S NOT ANSWERING MY FT CALLS
girlfriend kika: SHE’S NOT ANSWERING ME EITHER
princess george: Y/N I NEED ANSWERS
my baby lando: Y/N PLS
y/n: give her a minute
chili!: HUH
yukino: YO WHAT THE FUCK
chal eclair: give HER a minute???
my baby lando: oh so we’re being cryptic now???
y/n: No.
my baby lando: don’t text me in that tone 😭
PIERRE GASLYYYY: ��¿¿¿
honey badger: what the hell is going on
y/n: she’s busy
angel carmen: NOW HOLD AWN
angel carmen: HOLDDDD ONNNN
angel carmen: LEWIS????????
y/n: yeah
y/n: dw y/n’s okay she’s with me
my baby lando: what do u want from my mum 🤨
chili!: what he said 🤨
chal eclair: yeah what he said 🤨
y/n: lol relax
y/n: we’re just hanging out
wifey lily: sir, give me my gf back.
y/n: your girlfriend??
babygirl alex: our*
angel carmen: our*
girlfriend kika: our*
y/n:…
y/n: we’ll see
alabono: FYM????
honey badger: HELLO???
princess george: SIR???
girlfriend kika: guys they’re all over twitter omg
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mercedesamgf1 and y/l/nestate
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♡ liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63, y/n and 14,604,295 more.
mercedesamgf1 We here at Mercedes are extremely honoured and proud to announce that Y/L/N RECORDS is our brand new sponsor! Grammy and Oscar winning Singer and Song writer, Y/n Y/l/n has always been a huge Formula 1 fan, and a close friend to George, Lewis and many other drivers on the grid. She’s shown constant support throughout the years and her love and passion for the sport is what drew us to her (and so did her iconic, groundbreaking discography 😉). Y/L/N RECORDS is now proudly our biggest sponsor, and Y/n Y/l/n will be the official Mercedes AMG Petronas Formula 1 team Brand Ambassador as of today and moving forward. A huge, huge thank you and congratulations goes to ﹫Y/n, ﹫Y/L/NEstate and the Mercedes AMG Petronas Formula 1 Team! Welcome to the grid Y/L/N RECORDS ⭐️
tagged: y/n, y/l/nestate.
comments on this post have been limited.
lewishamilton champagne for everyone on me
➜ y/n omfg yes please???
➜ lewishamilton alcoholic ass
➜ y/n i don’t like u.
➜ lewishamilton liar.
➜ y/n hm.
jensonbutton so proud of you y/n
➜ y/n 🥹🖤
sebastianvettel congratulations to our sweetheart y/n
➜ y/n love u seb
y/n can’t wait for the future with you guys 🥹
carlossainz55 YESSS MORE Y/N ON THE GRID
➜ y/n YESSSSSSSSSS
charles_leclerc oh my god oh my god yes.
➜ y/n i’m so excited u have no clue
landonorris Y/N 24/7??? YES PLEASE
➜ y/n YES SIR 🔥🔥🔥
danielricciardo best thing that’s happened this season
➜ y/n after your comeback actually ☝️🤓
astonmartinf1 love the colour scheme 😉 congratulations to everyone!
scuderiaferrari ❤️❤️❤️
2K notes · View notes
felibrary · 3 days ago
Text
"i love you, i'm sorry"
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pairing: aventurine x reader (gender neutral)
synopsis: aventurine doesn’t know how to handle people being affectionate to him. so eventually, just as everyone leaves him, he’s become the one who leaves the person he cherishes the most—you—before you’re able to leave him first. so then, why is he now in front of your home, asking for another chance?
wordcount: 1.2k | content & warnings: unestablished relationship, situationship 101, aven has commitment issues (surprise), angst if you squint, hurt/comfort , mentions of aven's past (kind of) ; ficlet
tags: @eccentric-planet HERE IT ISSSS!!! (after waiting for like a week or so oops)
author's note: i wrote like half of this during biology, history and french class LMFAO
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in his world, love leaves behind traces. 
be it dejection that gnaws at him, and wraps his heart in sorrow or your lips that press against him, finding home in his scarred skin. all of the little things that shaped him into being—they all track back to you.  
gradually, over time, with every gesture of affection exchanged, he fell. his once sleepless nights were cured by lying beside you, and eventually, he peacefully dozed off. that is until morning arrived, the sun greeting him as her rays seeped through the curtains, which made him rise.
alas, bathing in bliss only lasted for so long. the love that streamed through his veins and was pumped into his heart, was daring to spill; aventurine knew that confessing his love to you would come with its consequences. there were rules he set up for himself, but after all, he is no more than a pathological sinner—an individual long forsaken by the gods that reign this world—a helpless soul.
despite harboring feelings for you, he kept those blooming emotions to himself; confined in the depths of his heart. 
so as much as he loved you, it hurt just as much to let you go; leave you behind with no words that offered an explanation for his leaving. 
aventurine’s foundation was built upon being alone—disappearing without leaving a trace has always been in his nature. having to leave and being left behind was nothing new. he was a natural.
eventually, the traces you left behind, etched into his very being, washed away.
kakavasha was a lonely child. the word company has always felt foreign on his tongue, at least when he had to say it aloud in a language other than his own.
presumably, that’s why he felt strangely weak in your hold. how you always persistently, almost desperately, buried your nails into his skin and held him tight—not wanting to let go as if you knew that he’d leave one day; silently slip from your grasp.
it was to be expected that you wouldn’t reach out anymore—he made you leave. 
(it’s for the better he thinks. after all, if you would’ve marched further into his heart you would’ve seen what was hidden in the depths of it—someone with no strong ambitions, and there’d be no point of return. aventurine wouldn’t make a good lover, he’s both too selfish and selfless no in between.)
there hasn’t ever been a verbal confirmation that the two of you were in a relationship. everyone around him, including you just assumed that the two of you were together
but he can’t blame them. all the spare items in his apartment, ranging from a mere toothbrush to items like skincare or using the same candles as you, that’d help you feel more at home. arriving at work together and subtly flirting in the elevator when others were around or kissing in the copy room, weren’t casual things that friends did.
aventurine thought it was easier that way, simply because the thought of putting labels on your relationship felt strange. to him, it felt like a heavy shackle bound to his feet, preventing him from being free.
so why is he now standing at your front door, waiting like a prisoner on death row for their judgment to come?
there’s a faint squeak as you open the door and aventurine shoves his left hand into the pocket of his coat, fiddling with the flower-shop bill. 
before aventurine knows it; and can fully comprehend the solemnity of the situation, you stand in front of him, as beautiful as ever.
“hi,” aventurine breathes out, and only now does he realize how much he’s missed seeing you. instead of answering your gaze drifts over his figure and his surroundings.
he feels hot under your watchful gaze, his body suddenly heating up, and clothes sickly sticking to his skin. “so? what’s your business?” your eyes land on the bouquet of lilies and gardenias he's gripping tightly,  slightly wrinkling the wrapping paper by doing so. 
countless thoughts are running through his head. may i come in? can we talk? i wanted to apologi—
“i love you, i’m sorry.”
his voice croaks and suddenly he feels small. the gut-wrenching feeling of fear that stirred in his stomach whenever you were around made him vulnerable and submissive. it made him bolder—more reckless with his way of words. they twisted and twirled on his tongue, and ultimately something else slipped out. (the truth)
the dismissive sound you make crawls into aventurine’s ears like a parasite creeping on his skin, causing him pain. “you say that after playing a game of push-and-pull with me? aventurine do you hear yourself?” you huff laughingly. “don’t do this to me. i can’t go through this once again,” you express with bitterness in your voice. “you’ll just hurt the both of us.” your tone is meek, but aventurine can hear the strain in your voice and he feels his stomach drop.
he exhales and musters the courage to say something. “i know that this is sudden, moreover, i know that i’ve been beyond horrible to you,” aventurine admits, and he swallows. “i want to apologize. my first apology is that i never apologized sooner.” he diverts his gaze to the ground, head facing the floor like a prisoner being escorted. 
he’s sure that at this point the stems of the flowers he’s bought for you are already kinked from clutching them so hard in his hand. “so, may i come in? i’ll tell you everything. i promise.” aventurine doesn’t dare to look up, at least not yet.
“calling me, whenever you needed me like i’m a pet who listens to every command, whispering sweet nothings into my ear as if you were coaxing me into believing something that was untruthful from the very beginning, and—” frustratedly, you ball your hands into fists. “listen. everything i told you was honest. yes i wasn’t ready for a relationship but that doesn't mean that i didn’t love you.” aventurine forces himself to look up, but immediately regrets it upon seeing your hurt face.
nevertheless, he continues. “i’m still hung up on the past. the thought of being with someone and promising myself to stay with them and committing my time, my life, and my very being scares me. it doesn’t excuse my behavior and actions, no, but i hope that this helps you understand me better.”
“i'm sorry that i didn't confide you in this any sooner. I was scared that you too would leave me. so i thought that if i’d leave first, it wouldn’t hurt as much. but i was wrong, my heart fucking aches when i’m not with you.” he cringes at how fake this sounds. but he’s more bothered about the fact that his heart isn’t only twinging when not with you, but it also might jump out of his ribcage, right here, right now.
you bite down on your bottom lip and contemplate. it's faint and if aventurine hadn’t paid attention, he’d have missed it. the way you mutter dumbass under your breath.” forget it,” you sigh as if reaching your breaking point. “just come in.”
this time, you fully open the door to him and he feels a wave of relief washing over him. “you’ve always been a mystery to me kakavasha.” you whisper, and aventurine’s lips form into a small smile as he trails and follows behind you, into your home.
a mystery, you say?
aventurine makes a promise to himself as he places the flowers into the glass vase you provided him. this time he’d be completely honest with you. about everything and anything.
so here it is — his heart laid bare.
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end note: who am i kidding. if he came back to me pleading id also take him back.
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also tagging @azullumi because at this point it'd be weird not to do this. i just want to thank you azul. thank you for being an amazing friend. thinking back, i used to have much worse communication skills. avoiding the ones around me or never voicing my problems aloud. but you giving me advice has genuinely inspired and impacted me so much. simply because i wanted to be so much like you cause i looked up to you so much and i still do. and recently those efforts of trying to better my social skills have paid off (kind of). I've become better and more mindful when it comes to people addressing their problems they have with me and thus trying to reflect and change my behavior. but I'm also able to talk about the things that bother me better now, simply because i took your advice. azul you understand me like no other. you take the words out of my mouth and are able to form such beautiful sentences i could never even think of. honestly your way with words is what enamors me the most about you.
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© FELIBRARY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.
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sweetnans · 7 months ago
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I'm Still Your Boy
Pairing: f.reader/bakugo katsuki. tw: mention of break up, mention of violence but not described because bakugo isn't a bad boy, soft and persistent bakugo. a/n: a three part sequence between you and this boy who's sorry about letting you go.
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You've been gone for a year. Bakugo tried to stay focused on his career and succeeded. He was the number one hero, after all. But you, you never left his mind.
He knows that he made a mistake. He scared the shit out of you the last time he saw you when you decided that the best for the both of you was leaving. And you did.
You made a career in another country, live the life that you never had the chance to live because of him. You were his best friend since you were kids, and then with the hormones, the changes, and the lack of reasoning, you became his girlfriend and that lasted for a few years, stealing all of your firsts.
You didn't blame him at all for taking away all the things that you loved because he was above them. And you didn't mind at all. He started his hero career after UA, trying in agencies, and after a couple of them, he made his own. You were happy for him. You wanted him to find the things that passionate him. But in the process, you lost yourself.
It happened one night, he was exhausted and the two of you started a fight. You said things that you regretted right after, and he became violent, not at you, but at everything that you made together. He had anger issues when you met him, but he never showed them when he was with you. That night, he was tired, and you were emotionally unstable because you had realized days prior that you were stuck and you didn't want your life to be someone's ornament.
So you left him and didn't look back.
Until today.
He knew from the moment that you gave your friends in common the news of you getting back to the landing of your plane. Kirishima wasn't so subtle when he was excited, and neither was Mina. They missed you too.
He has been pacing all day in his office thinking what he could do and how he could approach you without being so flagrant about it. He just needed to grow a pair and make a decision fast. He wanted you back, but he knew that it wouldn't be that easy. He knew that he fucked everything up, but never did anything to compensate his mistakes. He never called.
He, in fact, made a reckless decision that led him to the frontis of your house on a rainy night. The light on the first floor was lit, and he could see the shape of your figure through the blinds.
He could knock and sink in the ground when he sees you again.
You were in your kitchen, rearranging the food in the fridge that you bought earlier that day. You've made the cleaning and your laundry, so you were almost done for the day. The only task lingering in your list was putting the food in the fridge and in the pantry. You also bought some fast food to gain time. Once you were done, you'll go upstairs, cast some netflix, and enjoy it while eating french fries and a huge burger.
You were delusional. You didn't know what was coming.
A noise at the door startled you, making you drop the grapes in the kitchen counter. You could feel the presence of someone else in the house but when you turned around you didn't expect to be him.
"Bakugo," you said, looking at him half disconcerted and half scared.
Not by him, only by the fact that he was inside your house.
"Jeez, still hurts when you call me like that," he tried to dismiss the hurt in his voice by laughing a little. A sad laugh.
"How did you-"
You wanted to know a lot of things. How and why mostly.
"I taught you better than hide your spare key under the mat"
Yeah, that one was totally on you.
"I'll leave it in the flower pot next time." You tried to joke, but the atmosphere wasn't giving.
"And I taught you better than to eat that crap," he said, glancing at your food.
You tried to look offended, but he was right. The truth was that you never got the need to learn how to cook because he did the job just fine, and when he made up his mind about teaching you one thing or two about cooking, you were just used to his food so you never tried to even lit up the stove. When you left, you thanked Bakugo in your mind for teaching you how to cook, but it was a painful thing to do every day. You missed the bastard and hated him for getting you so used to him.
"It's late, what are you doing here?" You said grabbing your kitchen table to feel stable in your feet.
You thought about this moment. A thousand times, but you never imagined to be living it actually.
"I-" he stuttered. It wasn't easy for him either. "I wanted to see you"
"You better have an excuse better than that. You are dripping all over my floor, and I just moped it"
He looked at his boots. You were right. The rain was heavy outside, and he thought about knocking for about thirty minutes before he came with the great idea to home invade you.
"You're right," he said, determined to end his suffer and lift the permanent rock off his chest. "I missed you a lot. I was a fucking douchebag with you before you left. I know that you have made up your mind, but I made it worse. You could've left with me, I should have supported you like you did with me when I started this, " he pointed at his suit. "I was a shitty excuse of a boyfriend when you were everything to me" he sighed. His eyes started to get glossy before he noticed, yours as well.
You dreamed for the firsts months when you were outside the country that Bakugo would show up at your apartment and tell you that he fucked up and how much he missed having you around. You wanted this to happen, but right now, you could feel the turmoil in your head. You didn't know if him saying sorry after a year would change anything.
"I can't go back to what I made you feel, and I know that I fucked everything that we had, including our friendship, but I wouldn't be here if I wasn't sure that you are what I want and that I can make things right again, after all this time" he said after a long silence filled with your sobs.
Your silence made him uncomfortable. In a way that he, for the first time, felt scared. Scared of losing you forever.
"I-" you grabbed your head with your hands while he made his way to you, crossing the kitchen and closing the distance to put one of his fingers under your chin.
You lifted your head to look at him. Everything was happening in those crimson eyes. Every emotion, sadness, fear, expectation, and the most important of all, hope.
"I can't be without you," He needed you. He needed to be yours.
You weren't sure. You were scared, too. You didn't want to get hurt again.
You grabbed his hand, joining his fingers with yours. And made your decision.
"I'm sorry"
He felt his heart sink. It was a possibility, but in his mind, you've missed him the same that he missed you.
He wasn't a man that would accept a no from anyone, but with you, it was different. He told you everything that he needed to tell you, he exposed his heart to you and he was convinced that everything he was feeling, you felt it too.
It wasn't a rotund, no.
That night, after he discarded his damp clothes and laid in bed looking at the ceiling, he remembered the first time that he knew that he had feelings for you. He gave you a shitty speech about his feelings. He was only seventeen, and he was rough, didn't have any tact to tell people mundane things, much less speaking about his feelings. He remembered your face, pretty disconcerted at the beginning, but in the end, you were trying to contain your tears from falling. That time, he didn't tease you for crying. He remembered what cracked you up, the last part of his speech of how much he wanted to be with you.
"Brat, I know nothing about love, but I better be yours."
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Part 2
Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.
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shapelytimber · 3 months ago
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He slept rather soundly for a murderer <3
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[COMMISSIONS] - [PRINT] - [TES TAROT]
You'll never believe who managed to fix her Oblivion and began playing again dkjjnnklb
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If you're interested, it's up as a print on my inprint !!!
Process and usual rambling below vvv
I've wanted to draw these two for such a long time ! Ever since I saw @t00thpasteface 's art and comics (you should check them out if you've never seen them before, they're *very* good), I've kinda fell in love with their dynamic ? who can blame me ! The skillful assassin being tasked to kill the new emperor, but don't go through with it because the man kinda cute and offered him wine fnflfl incredible (and don't get me started on the whole former priest of sanguine so maybe they already met before bit, I will start eating dry wall)- also it's a ship based on two characters who never met and I love that shit (if you've seen my stardew valley fanarts, you already know that dkfkk)
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But I wanted to add my own spin on it :) by making lucien lachance the most hedonistic little cunt you've ever seen fkdkld the man is drinking fine wine first thing in the morning after the getting the best dick of his life- and making him eat what can only be describe as the most aggressively cliché french breakfast :))) as a treat (my french ass trying to come up with a decadent breakfast : hmmmmm how about jam on baguette and wine ?)
PS : and remember ! The first rule of perspective is to have fun and be yourself :D second rule is to never ask me where the floor is
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anika-ann · 2 months ago
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Caught (S.R.)
Type: one-shot, fluff, they were roommates and idiots trope
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 8,2k
Summary: You hadn’t exactly planned to get caught in the rain. Then again, people rarely do. But you did.
You hadn’t plan to get caught in the soft spiderweb of feelings for Steve Rogers when your friend had set you up as roommates. Then again, people rarely do. But you did. It was impossible not to.
Arriving at your shared apartment soaking wet sees Steve springing into action to warm you up… and send you falling deeper in love with him with every passing second. But hey – what else was new, right?
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Warnings: tooth-rottng FLUFF, idiots-in-love trope, they were ROOMMATES trope, brief mention of PTSD and its symptoms, one gratuitous 'fuck' and French
A/N: cross-written for the Winds of Autumn challenge hosted by @the-slumberparty and for @elixirfromthestars ' writing challenge. Thank you ALL for hosting and breathing live into the community 💕 for WoA I chose 'caught in the cold rain' for the WChallenge I chose “ Why don’t you tell me what I can do to make your day better?” 
A/N 2: DIVIDER by @steviebbboi ;enjoy y'all 🥰
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This was all your fault; it really was.
There was no one else to blame for your current state.
Soaking wet, hair and clothes dripping alike, shaking so hard you nearly dropped your keys when trying to fit it into the keyhole.
A few minutes was all it took.
And yes; it was all on you.
You had practically been praying for a sweater weather. You had been so fed up with the unbearable summer heat still gripping the reigns even mid-September that you prayed and begged and swore you might be able to kill a man for a single breath of autumn.
So clearly, you had called this upon yourself.
In all fairness, you had wished for Indian summer; the normal late September weather. The light sweater weather. You certainly hadn’t been hoping to be thrown into the weather of seasonal depression, the temperature drop equalling a time machine bringing the end of November to the air and people’s hearts alike. Unforgiving icy wind, endless downpours, poking umbrellas all around, ever-present grumbling as one’s coat brushed against another, the dampness and cold seeping into yours and everyone else’s bones.
Nothing nice and prayers-worthy about that.
The thing was, this had been a daily reality for about a week now – and so one would think you were well-equipped to deal with the weather at least.
Except like the fool you were, you left your waterproof jacket at home, because you had believed today’s weather forecast, confident that the desired sweet and slightly crispy autumn was coming at last.
You and the meteorologists had been wrong.
But that wasn’t the worst part, no – the worst part would be your giddy optimism in the face a sudden NY underground failure.
Taking the ride home from work, you had nearly slammed into people surrounding you in the train at the sudden slam of breaks. A system failure, apparently. Caused by the damage to the network due to previous intense rains. A mishap stopping the trains in their stations, forcing people out.
And like the optimistic half-wit, trying to find a bright side and making the most of a miserable situation, you had thought, hey, it’s only a few blocks from here! No rain on the horizon for a change. What an opportunity to soak in the lovely autumn weather! The buses and taxis will be packed, and walking is good for health anyway.
And sure it was. And you ended up soaking indeed.
The brutal downpour and icy wind caught you in about ten minutes after you had taken off to your brisk walk.
You seriously doubted there was any benefit to your health at all, safe for maybe points to your mental resilience and an excuse to stay in bed with a book and a cup of hot chocolate next week, because you were about to catch a grade-A case of cold.
By the time you got to your apartment door, you were ready to flop on the floor the moment you’d stumble inside, uncaring for the wet smack you’d make against the hardwood or the carpet should you make it further into the apartment.
Except you knew the floor would be unforgivingly hard either way, and cold and you first had to get out of your dripping shoes and then the drenched clothes sticking to your body like a second skin and it would take you forever to strip with how shaky and numb your fingers had turned, the only sensation being cold and stiffness bordering on pain and for god’s sake could you at least stick the damn key into the goddamn keyhole-
You finally opened the door with a gratuitous ‘fuck’ on your lips, practically throwing the door open.
And were met with a surprised sleepy supersoldier blinking at your owlishly, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his white sleepshirt crumbled, the perfect case of bed hair and confused expression completing the most telling startled-from-his-sleep-but-not-Avenger-level-alarmed look.
Even in your state you had to admit he was adorable in a way men built like mountains shouldn’t.
You stared at each other mutely for several seconds, as if both surprised by each other’s presence – or at least state – processing.
You, drenched from rain and puddles, cold-dried by the wind, shivering all over and barely keeping your teeth from clattering as to hold onto the last shreds of your dignity and sanity.
Steve, still slightly disoriented, having just been woken up. Woken up by you, most likely, you thought regretfully, cursing your life-choices again. He was a light sleeper – a mere jiggle of keys would have interrupted his slumber, let alone your endless fumbling around the lock.
You spoke at the same time.
“I’m sorry for wak-” “What happened to you?”  
Your voice trailed off, a chuckle of irony echoing in the back of your head.
What happened to you?
That was a question a lot more loaded that it might seem.
What had happened to lead you to this place, facing a sleepy Greek-godlike figure with a concerned look on his face?
A whole lot of coincidences; a whole lot of fate, maybe.
Sam Wilson, a friend from childhood, with whom you had only reconnected a few years ago.
You, having been looking for an apartment ever since your landlord had announced he planned to sell the building to a huge corporation which would, from then on, only rent the apartments to its employees.
Sam again, looking to move in with his girlfriend, claiming he was leaving a roommate behind, who would appreciate a kind, trustworthy and reliable replacement.
Your ‘Gee, thanks’.  
‘Wait, no, he didn’t word it exactly like that,’ Sam had assured you. ‘I promise, he’s a real stand-up guy. Sure, a guy, but a respectful one and a neat one, with a sprinkle of a neat freak on top. He’s a great roommate and one of my best friends – I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t believe it could work.’
That was what your friend had said. And you believed him.
One thing led to another.
What Sam had conveniently failed to mention was that his real stand-up guy was a hulking drop-dead gorgeous supersoldier with the sweetest soul on the damn planet. Or maybe in the universe – what did you know? The universe had got a lot bigger ever since you found out it was perfectly possible for aliens to rain down from the sky through some kind of a hole in spacetime.
What Sam had conveniently failed to mention was that your future roommate was one of the heroes from the superhero band that had stopped these very aliens from taking over planet Earth.
After processing – even though you weren’t sure you’d ever finish processing – that you would share an apartment with Captain America, you accepted.
After all, you certainly weren’t one to look a gifted horse in the mouth; experience told you that could have done a lot worse than landing a person vetted by Sam Wilson and by a potentially world-ending event for a roommate.
In fact, you soon learned you couldn’t have done any better.
Steve was all the things Sam had promised.
And besides being the perfect person to share an apartment with, besides being the paragon of justice itself with a sprinkle of neat freak on top, he was also shockingly human.
Steve was a guy who had a routine until he didn’t, his schedule a little funny. He split housework with you in a way that left both of you content even as you felt he was doing a little bit more than his part whenever he could. He enjoyed cooking and baking and drawing and generally working with his hands, fixing any household issues before they could develop into a problem. Sometimes, nights found him in the living room with a book in his hand and quiet movie for a background when he couldn’t sleep. Sometimes, he left dirty dishes in the sink and a toothbrush on the basin instead of putting it into the holder and sometimes he forgot to put the toilet seat down. He was painfully respectful of your privacy and of your sleep alike whenever he was coming back at strange times, almost absurdly so for a man who seemed to barely fit in a doorway.  
He had a sharp mind and a subtle but deadly sense of humour on a good day and a quiet demeanour on a bad day, usually after a sleepless or nightmare-filled nights, which were always followed by him walking around the apartment with his sweats tucked into his socks because the draught and the cold on his ankles clearly bothered him. The list could go on and on and it was rather embarrassing for you, the idea for just how long you could keep listing things you observed about Steve and his habits and him; but the point was that he was a guy who was absurdly ordinary guy and extraordinary in about everything at once.
He had introduced as Steve the very day you had met, clearly not standing for any of your Captain, Sir, Captain Rogers nonsense.
He became Steve to you soon after.
He turned dear to you just as fast.
You weren’t sure when it happened; when your relationship shifted from sharing an apartment to sharing a life. It happened gradually, through dinners and breakfasts and films watched together; through nights he found you on the couch, barely awake or already sleeping after having been waiting for him even as he had told you not to; through late-night talks, about both things you were passionate about and things you wished you could forget.
You weren’t sure when this man, larger than life in both frame and heart, became your close friend.
You weren’t sure when the small butterflies that appeared in your stomach every time he smiled turned so all-consuming, spreading their wings through your whole body, circling around your heart.
It must have happened somewhere between his first smile and the sparkle in his warm blue eyes, between the tear-streaked cheeks when you found his shaking breathless body curled on the floor, between a hug and holding your hand when he drove you back from your wisdom teeth removal surgery because no one else was available, between every single minute you had the fortune to spend in his company and those you couldn’t, longing for him instead.
Somewhere in between, you must have fallen in love, the urgent feeling in your chest slowly turning unbearable and heavy. It burned, to stifle it inside, the one secret you wouldn’t share for the fear of breaking something as precious to you as your peaceful life with Steve the friend.
You weren’t sure when exactly it happened, but it got you there.
It got you here; into this very moment, just like many others, facing him and rendered speechless for a breath or two, because god, was he handsome and lovely and sweetly worried and an image of domesticity at once and you were hit with a sharp tug of a feeling whispering of coming home.
What happened to you, Steve had asked, his gaze turning more concerned by the second as you remained silent safe for the rustle of your soaked jacket you had started to strip at some point and the one clatter of your teeth you failed to stifle.
What did happen again?
“Got caught in a rain,” you rasped, stating the painfully obvious. “Underground broke down. Thought I’d walk…”
Steve frowned, sleepiness wiped off his face to give way to compassion and sternness at once, a sigh leaving his lips as he slowly neared you.
“Seemed like a smart idea at the time…” you continued when he didn’t say a word, just gently – always so gently dammit – pushed at the door to get it closed at last, his arms quietly coming around you, engulfing you in his embrace. Your heart startled at the gesture. “Steve, no, I’ll get you all we---wow okay, this is nice, you’re really warm-“
He chuckled sweetly above your head as you babbled, protests dying on your lips with a sound resembling a whine and moan as his warmth enveloped you, so relieving and inviting, prompting you to melt against his firm and yet painfully soft body.
His voice carried an admonishing note as you trembled against him, his warmth and pleasant scent of comfort seeping into your body while the cold and smell of rain soaked him in return. You did not care for the scolding; it was a kind one. And Steve still was still holding you – that was the important part.
And the most painful one.
"You could have called,” he said, like a sweet, even if already lost bargain. “I’d come get you.”
You pressed closer to him, clearly having a glutton for punishment.
Those few innocent words burned through you like the most tender wildfire. An inflection and tone that couldn’t have been good for your heart and yet you revelled in them; a statement that felt like an oath:
I‘d come get you.
I’d always come get you.
I’d do anything for you.
Something so close to love, in your reach and yet untouchable, because he didn’t mean it – he couldn’t mean it, because Steve Rogers had a large heart, but surely would have told you if you had occupied space in it that way.
And yet he held your own heart in his palms and he didn’t even know. Was it wrong you let the gentle words wash over you and let them warm you just as much as Steve’s arms, even if they meant something different than you’d wish?
You gulped, a shiver that had nothing to do with cold running down your spine.
“You only got in like three hours earlier,” you reasoned, forcing yourself to focus on the practical matters as not to slip into whispering a true confession; and perhaps doing so anyway along the way. It was true, however; as per habit and your request, Steve had texted you he was home safe and sound barely few hours ago. Knowing that led you to immediately weed out the mere idea of calling him to pick you up as it appeared in your mind the moment the downpour started. You were aware, however bittersweet the knowledge was, that he would come – that was why you hadn’t called. For his benefit. “You needed to sleep.”
Steve sighed again. And you needed to be picked up, you heard in the weary and yet somehow fond sound.
He didn’t argue, however; his hold grew tighter, appreciative, his broad hand, oh so warm, running up and down your back, pressing a little stronger than he normally would in a hug; allowing the heat of his body sink deeper, into your very bones, sending you sinking deeper into the warmth blooming in your chest as well.
Pressed against his front, you couldn’t but breathe in, allowing everything that was Steve overwhelm over your senses. The woodsy notes and musk of his cologne, the soft material of his sleepshirt burning almost too hot as it clung to his body, the smooth movements of his rough hands, his warm breath brushing your scalp, the image of his minute smile behind your closed eyelids, his voice humming in his ribcage and filling your ears like honey.
“Why don’t you tell me what I can do to make your day better?”
His question was so genuine – and a little wavery in a way that made your belly tingle in response. Tell me what I can do and I will do it. Just say the word, it seemed to whisper in your head, your heart protesting and fluttering in your chest.
You already are, you almost replied as the shudders subdued slowly despite both of you now soaking. You’re back home. You’re safe. You’re with me. And you’re warm. And big. And strong. And you smell good. And you’re holding me oh so tight and gentle and it feels so profoundly nice and you really are warm and maybe this new shiver running down my back isn’t just that I’m cold, maybe it’s that naïve hope of which I should have let go of so long ago-
He noticed the fresh wave of tremble of whose origin you yourself weren’t entirely sure of – your weather escapades or the escapades of your poor heart – and the caress up and down your back grew faster, more of a rubbing to create warmth than a soothing gesture.
“Okay, doll, you’re getting into the bathtub right away. What can I do in the meantime?”
In spite of his words, a benevolent order one might say, he didn’t let go.
Despite his question sounding urgent, you took your time responding; because it took a huge portion of your willpower not to tell him to just keep holding you.
“…hot chocolate?” you suggested meekly, a shy but slightly mischievous smile tugging at your lips when Steve released you at last, those big warm paws of his settling on your shoulders for a moment. “And you should probably change.”
He glanced at his wet clothes self-deprecatingly, as if it was his fault – and in a way, you supposed it was. But you weren’t complaining. The wet fabric clung to his body in the most delicious way, no matter the scepticism he observed it with.
When his gaze met yours again, his smile was the sun itself; but you still missed the heat of his body against your skin.
“You got it, doll. Come on.”
Much to your regret and salvation, he released you completely. You still graced him with a grateful and once again shaky smile which you could and should blame on the loss of his body heat.
“Thanks, Steve. You’re the best.”
And he was.
And if that wasn’t becoming a bigger problem by the minute.
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With some of Steve’s warmth lingering – mainly the one his actions and demeanour awoke deep within your body – you managed to get rid of your clothes with enough ease and patience to have the bathtub fill with steaming hot water before climbing in. Sinking into the water then felt about as pleasant as sinking into Steve’s embrace had been – except this time, it was the rest of your body which appreciated the heat, warming you from the outside, tension leaving your muscles, your brain relaxing and slipping into a mindless haze, an absent smile forming on your lips.
You soaked in the tub for long enough to almost fall asleep and slide under the water; the only thing convincing you to fight the slumber off – perhaps besides, well, drowning – was the premise of a delicious cup of hot chocolate made with utmost care and Steve’s company, all the more appreciated since you knew he’d stay for at least five minutes even as he was no doubt falling asleep on his feet himself.
Not wanting to keep him waiting any longer, your climbed from the tub, rushed through your routine and emerged from the bathroom with steam following you, no doubt making for an image of cosiness with your blissfully dry comfortable clothes, complete with fuzzy socks.
Steve must have agreed with your assessment, because he greeted you with a grin.
He had left the two mugs of top tier hot chocolate with actual melted pieces of the treat and whipped cream on top on the kitchen counter, having brought two blankets for the couch, now fumbling with the tv remote. A quick glance around the apartment told you that while you were nearly nodding off in the bathroom, he had made a quick work of cleaning the mess you had left behind; electric shoe dryers already placed in your boots, your drenched jacket near the heating with plastic film spread on the floor as not to do any damage.  
You could kiss the lop-sided smile he gave you when you thanked him, your heart hammering in your chest with excitement and longing when he nodded towards the couch. To an outsider, the scene could easily appear as a quiet night in of a couple; a thoughtful beautiful man setting everything up for a date night full of seeking joy in simple domesticity and quiet intimacy.
One day, Steve Rogers was about to make someone incredibly happy.
The idea strung a sharp but brief note of jealousy in your chest, a lump growing in your throat as the rational part of you mocked you that the person wasn’t you. You would have known by now if you were; even though spending time with him did make you all kinds of happy.
You forced a smile through the light sting of tears, trying to stop your mind from racing and spiralling about the thought of having to move out to make space for the vaguely gorgeous and brilliant woman; or maybe sooner, just to put your heart at ease, because with every beat of it you felt yourself falling deeper into the trap of loving this man. It was beginning to hurt; and still, you approached him, smiling.
“Looking cosy. Feeling better?”
You nodded, unable to resist and placing your hand over Steve’s arm, his soft blues finding your gaze.
“Thank you, Steve. Really.”
The lopsided smile returned, his fingers brushing your shoulder. God, he was so close and all you’d have to do was to stand on your tiptoes. You’d kiss his cheek, a purely innocent display of gratitude of course, just to feel his smooth skin against your lips once-
You needed to get a grip. The brief hypothermia you had suffered was messing with your brain and was lowering your inhibitions and that was not good. 
“Anytime,” he assured you, nodding towards the screen. “We don’t have to, but I was wondering if you maybe wanted to watch a movie? I feel like we could both use that. But if you’d rather be alone-“
You shook your head quickly, your smile coming easier now because of the absurdity and thoughtfulness of his question at once. To be alone when he was there? No thank you. Who cared that the rational part of your brain huffed again, telling you that maybe that would be a better idea unless you wanted to torture yourself with false hopes.
Saying no was not an option.
You really must have had a glutton for punishment; but in some ways, you learned Steve suffered from the same condition. So maybe that was just his persona rubbing on off you… And thank you, brain, for the worst possible choice of words.
You cleared your throat.
“A movie sounds great,” you said, the mental image of you throwing its hands in the air, grumbling something about your poor old heart. Steve was still very softly holding onto your shoulder though, facing you, mere foot apart; who expected you to think rationally in these conditions? “Fair warning though, I almost fell asleep in the tub. Might fall asleep half-way through this.”
Steve grinned, stepping back to get the mugs and beckoning towards the couch again as to tell you to get settled. You obeyed without protest; you knew him well enough to be aware there was no point in trying to get your mug yourself.
He was the nurturing kind of friend.
“Does that mean I get to choose the movie so you can blame your social and cultural ignorance on my choices?” he teased.
He was also the loveable little shit kind of friend.
“Rude… and I would never,” you protested, accepting the offering of the hot chocolate, now indeed all cosy, tucked in a blanket, sitting comfortably and wrapping your hands around the mug to warm your palms further. “…but deal.”
Steve’s laugh was perhaps warmer than the mug and sweeter than its content, but you stomped at the thought as soon as it popped up in your head. You had no time nor capacity for nonsense. You had a nice evening ahead.
Better not to ruin it.
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You weren’t sure what you’d expected, but this was not it.  
You had warned Steve about the possibility of you nodding off; after all, beyond having exhausted your body with the less-than-pleasant walk, nearly falling asleep in a bathtub and getting all comfortable on the couch, you had expected the large amount of sugar you’d consume to take its toll eventually and push you over the edge, the infamous sugar crash being the last straw.
You had expected to be out as a light in a matter of minutes, to be honest.
You had not expected the effect of all the warmth and sugars to evaporate much faster than that.
You were maybe twenty minutes into the movie and the anticipated sleep barely scratched the door of your consciousness; instead, the first reluctant shivers arrived. Blatantly ignoring Steve’s subtle side-eye and entirely obvious worry, you sank deeper into the couch, pulling the second blanket over yourself, tucking it all the way up to your chin, curling into yourself to preserve the warmth.
Thirty minutes in, you were shaking so hard Steve paused the movie, a crease forming between his eyebrows as he turned his upper body to you, right hand reaching out before pausing a few inches from your forehead.
“Can I?”
You hummed noncommittally, wondering yourself if maybe your grade-A case of cold was arriving sooner than expected and a fever already hit.
You were feeling just fine though; it was just the damn shivers which you couldn’t seem to stop.
Steve’s hand gently settled against your forehead, his frown deepening almost as if he could feel your heart speed up at the contact and didn’t approve. Which you knew was nonsense, because his whole mind was probably already consumed by the mission of assessing whether his inner Nurse Rogers should come out, but it worked well for cooling off your train of thought.
“It doesn’t feel like you have a fever, but we should probably check,” he hummed thoughtfully, shifting, prepared to rise his feet in search of the thermometer.
Your hand shot up from its safe warm haven, missing the target of his forearm but sending clear enough message to stop him.
He settled back down with a sigh, his hand sliding from your forehead over your cheek to the side of your neck, a delightful source of warmth spreading through your whole body and your suddenly deadly heartrate; a flicker of an image in which he’d place his hand exactly there and leaned forward, his lips brushing yours, nudged insistently at your brain.
You battled it with violent effort, refusing to even consider the soft look in Steve’s eyes was anything but concern for a good friend.
Because that was all it was: concern. What if you turned into an icicle, right? He had seen weirder things than that and he had spent whole seventy years frozen. He was naturally very worried about you having to endure the same.
“I’m fine,” you assured him with a smile that was shaky due to everything but cold. “Just my thermoregulation going haywire after all the excitement today--- Jesus how are you always so warm…”
Steve ignored your question, his hand still firmly set on your neck, the most delicious source of heat, his eyes roaming your embarrassingly shaking form.
“I’ve had a lot of practice with cold,” he said absently.
You could practically hear the wheels in his head turning, even as you were quite busy keeping your teeth from clattering. His eyes were so startingly blue, with the lightest speckle of green standing out for some reason, mesmerizing and warm as if to wreck the theory of these two colours normally belonging to the cold scale and you heart was positively about to beat your way out of your chest, because it appeared as if he was leaning forward a bit and maybe you were entering some kind of delirium, so it really was the time to move.
Move to kiss him, maybe, you bet his lips were warm too and yours were cold-
Okay, that was it.
“Okay, I think I’m gonna go for another soak-“
“Come here,” he muttered at the same time, effectively rendering you speechless when he released you only to scoot back a bit, his fingers beckoning lightly to himself, expression entirely serious.
What.
“I do run pretty hot and frankly I’d rather have you under supervision,” he said matter-of-factly, slipping into the Captain mode – managing to shoot your naïve hopes sky-high and shooting them dead in one sentence.
He was mission-oriented; that was all. He was worried, because frankly, your body was acting out and he was a good friend.
A good friend. A captain, responsible for his own.
There was nothing romantic about sharing body heat; he had probably done it dozen times on a mission.
He was simply concerned. And you should be and were grateful for that and for the practical and grounded approach to the matter at hand; you certainly preferred it to him rushing you to the doctor, because you were still pretty certain it was nothing to be worried about, nothing a good night’s sleep with loads of blankets on top of you wouldn’t fix.
So why the pang in your heart?
Why the regret and disappointment at him simply doing it to assure you’d feel better?
Because you were an idiot and you should have been so much more radical about forbidding yourself from catching feelings while living with Steve. But how could anyone blame you? He was just stupidly attractive and profoundly good and adorably ordinary in his extraordinariness, and you just wanted one touch, one taste, one moment of basking in his light and warmth and actual love.
Was that really so wrong of you?
You swallowed, voice set perhaps a little harsher than needed, the idea of him holding you out of pity making you a little sick to your stomach.
“Steve, you really don’t have to-“
“I want to,” he argued, voice so much softer in contrast to yours, and your body, that traitorous body acted, nearing to his despite your achy heart and hurting brain screaming at you to get to your feet instead, get to the bathroom or your room and lock the door and your heart and throw away the key to keep it safe.
“Steve-“
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he saw you wavering despite your verbal protest.
“Plus, I’m just doing my civic duty of protecting the innocent. You shake any harder, you’ll cause an earthquake.”
Deadpanning, you managed to stop your progress; in turn, your heart fluttered at the sparkle of mischief in Steve’s eye, that stupid muscle in your chest humming with fondness.
Godddamn him.
He knew exactly how to disarm you completely, to have you do his bidding, and he must have known of this power of his, blatantly abusing it for your wellbeing.
What a criminal behaviour.
With a sigh, you lifted your blanket a bit, scooting over to his open arms, carefully laying to his side as his arm slid under the blanket around your shoulders and pulled you closer; his warmth enveloped you in an instant, his hand rubbing gently at your arm, while his other busied itself with tucking the blanket around you to create a safe cocoon.
You felt yourself relax despite your better judgement, cheek laying on his chest, a steady thump-thump of his heart bargaining with yours:
How could you be short with him? Mad at him? He was just being the nicest person in the world, taking care of his friend, radiating warmth and smelling of comfort, selfless and without seeking anything but a simple thank you in return, if even that. And the charming bastard he was, he even tried to make you laugh.
It wasn’t his fault you had gone and fallen in love with him; it wasn’t fair to hold it against him that he was the best person you knew and your feelings were hurt just because he couldn’t think the same about you. Your mind understood that; it was your heart that was foolish.
You chased the thoughts away, only an echo of the ugly empty feeling remaining, giving way to a much more tender and insistent emotion; but mostly to sensation of your shivers subduing, almost as if they had been the trembles of an addict seeking their fix – Steve’s touch – rather than those of someone with messed up thermoregulation.
Maybe they were. But that wasn’t for Steve to worry about.
“Har har… how about your civil duty of being a sassybag…” you muttered in appreciation of his attempt, his chest shaking lightly with a chuckle.
“Oh, I’m taking that one most serious of them all.”
That he was.
The grin in his voice was infectious, however; you smiled against your will, poking his side lightly with your index finger.
“I noticed… but I forgive you.”
Because you’re really warm and sweet and for a moment, I guess I can indulge in the unhealthy delusion of you doing this because you like me close, postponing the ache of sobering up to reality for later.  
“I’m glad. How’s that feel?”
Like I want to stay like this forever.
Like I want you to want to stay like this forever.
You shushed the traitorous voice.
“Warm… comfy,” you added after a while, rewarded by a rub to your shoulder, being pulled impossibly closer. And it felt so good.
“Good.”
Simply holding you and sharing his heat indeed for a moment, he let you soak in the comfort. Seconds passed, maybe minutes; you didn’t count the beats of his heart, but heard every single one of them, soothing, whispering the little lie that maybe some of them were for you.
You didn’t argue; you didn’t quite give in.
When Steve lowly asked you if you wanted to continue the movie, you just nodded, grateful for the distraction of how incredibly right you felt in the little fantasy of yours that this, you being here in Steve’s arms, was exactly where you belonged.
As he reached for the remote, you whispered a soundless ‘thank you’.  
His ‘you’re welcome’ was softer and warmer than the blankets.
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It was a herculean task to accomplish, fending off sleep, but having being in Steve’s company had rubbed off of you; you were anything but determined. Not knowing what the movie was about and what had happened on the screen in the past minutes – since the movie started, really – you still tried not to doze off at least.
You had a creeping suspicion Steve knew, deducting so from your silence or from the way your body was completely pliant against his, but he didn’t call you out, like the gentleman he was. Instead, he had simply stopped moving, safe from the periodical rise and fall of his chest, serving you as the most comfortable pillow you had ever had a chance of laying your head to, soft and warm and solid all at once.
And he seemed perfectly content to serve as one.
Just for that, you had stopped caring a while ago about his motivations. Had this been just a mission to keep a fellow human warm, so be it. He seemed pleased enough to do so and in your hazy sleepy mind, you knew one thing with absolute certainty – and that was that you did find this all kinds of pleasant too. Should the contentedness of yours come from a different place than his, well, you could deal with that later.
Or never.
You were just… happy and at peace.   
You weren’t sure when exactly you had closed your eyes, but you had; your voice was slurring a bit too, your determination to fight your exhaustion clearly not enough to win over sleep.
“Thank ya’ for takin’ care of me, Steve.”
At that, the soft statue under you shifted the tinniest bit, Steve’s thumb brushing your arm gently as his arm had remained around your shoulders. His heart was beating a little fast, you thought absently, lulled back into obliviousness by the vibration of his voice.
“You already said that…” he reminded you, humour and something else, sweeter, laced into his voice. “Anytime.”
You hummed in response, sinking deeper into the softness enveloping you.
“Hey… I mean it, okay?”
“Uh huh,” you muttered again, the dreamland already calling you, insistent and so inviting. “Same… arenchya sleepy? ‘m sleepy.”
Silence only sweetened by his still rapidly beating heart settled, another slow caress to your arm, Steve’s voice reaching you from tender proximity and endless distance all at once.
“Then sleep, doll.”
Mmm.
The dreams wrapped around your wrists like tender ribbons, coaxing you to follow them, pulling gently.
You could give in so easily. Letting the dreamland take you felt as simple as breathing; comfortable and warm, and feeling so damn safe that your heart, while peaceful, was aching a little.  
And maybe it was the tone Steve had spoken with earlier – so much emotion weaved into a few simple words, so much meaning – maybe it was the subconsciousness forming your dreams, but the memory of one of your favourites book which you had read multiple times flickered through your mind, making you smile. Or maybe it didn’t – you weren’t sure if you moved a single muscle, your body already floating.
Le sommeil partagé était le corps du délit de l'amour, the line read. A pondering of a man to whom sleeping with women meant nothing but entertainment, no feelings attached; not until he held a woman truly dear to him through the night, having fallen asleep peacefully, at last realizing that what he was feeling was love.
Sleeping with someoneor sleeping with someone, that was at the centre of his dilemma; the sharp contrast, one much more meaningful than the other. One a display of desire; the other, display of trust and love. A corpus delicti of love.
It was never like that for you – to you, the physical only came along with emotional, deep trust necessary to both. Having been learning about who Steve was, your mind argued lazily, there was no doubt in your mind Steve felt the same way about his relationships.
But the fact you could fall asleep right there, in his arms, and it felt like the safest place in the world…
It brought along a different memory; a memory of Steve’s large body curled into itself next to you on the couch, three blankets on top of him, your hands holding his, the contact seemingly somehow chasing away the demons of his past that had come to haunt his dreams. You had found him, lost in his own home, trapped in his own mind. He had agreed on a movie even as it had taken a long time to convince him that you weren’t going to back to sleep in your room while he’d try to fight off the invisible enemies his mind had created alone; so you had settled on a movie marathon instead. He had relaxed eventually, the dreamland taking him again, soft snores a lullaby to you – and you had never spoken about it again besides his quiet, ashamed and painfully genuine thank you the next morning. He had trusted you then, maybe feeling just as safe as you were now, despite you being nothing but an ordinary unenhanced human protecting him from evil.
It was a mirror image to how you were at this moment, you mused sleepily; you made him your pillow and a space heater and the source of comfort, while you tiptoed the line of reality and dreams.
His heartbeat thundered softly in your ear, calming but so vigorous and fast; and it slowly dawned to you that his body had stiffened under yours, the sensation nudging your consciousness and pulling you back, away from sleep.
Before you could voice your concern and confusion, his chest vibrated softly under you; his voice caressed you, tender with a hint of a rasp.
“…oui, c’est toujours vrai,” he whispered slowly, the words not making any sense.
Yes, that is always – still – true, you understood despite not being able to grasp at what he was saying truly or why, even as you knew French nearly perfectly, could probably speak it even in your sleep-
Your eyes snapped open, your heart jumping in your chest so fiercely it hurt.
Yes, that is always true.
It is true-
You had spoken out loud.
You had quoted one of your favourite books to him, out loud, speaking of shared sleep and love, and he had read that book too, you knew as much because you had talked about it before, he knew what that line meant, what it meant to you.
But it couldn’t be. He couldn’t be saying what you meant he was saying-
Except that tone. That soft, soft inflection to his voice, his thumb brushing over your arm again, reluctant but firm, his breath having hitched, awaiting your reaction to this… revelation?
And he got it; all sleep evaporating from your body, realizing you were basically lying on top of him – gods, you had no inhibitions in your semi-sleep state – your heart pounded so wildly your ribcage just might set it free. You gulped, shifting so you could look at him, the world slowly coming back to focus as your mind kept echoing the same words, over and over.
Corpus delicti of love. Corpus delicti of LOVE, c’est vrai-
You found Steve with his head bowed, observing you with patient and nervous anticipation, still holding you close to his body, something softly hopeful shimmering in his irises. Shadows of the evening had fallen over the living room but you could still see his perfect face so clearly, the depth of his blue eyes, the two beauty marks on his cheek, the pink lips looking so soft even as they were lightly pressed in a line – expectant of your response.
Your response to him indirectly confessing to---
Was he in love in you too?
The flicker of something you’d never dare to truly believe was real, because it appeared dangerously like adoration, lit up his eyes at your barely audible ‘really?’, a shadow of anxiety building behind the brilliant speckles of green in his irises when he nodded and waited.
As you processed, Steve never took his gaze off you in a display of bravery you were sure you would never have been capable of.
He had nodded. He had nodded.
Unless you were reading it completely wrong, unless--- unless this was just your fever actually taking over, Steve loved you, or at least was on his way to do so.
The overwhelming euphoric feeling rushed through ever nerve ending like a livewire, lighting your body up, your breathing hitching and expanding in your chest, something prickling in your eyes.
Steve’s Adam’s apple bobbed, gaze flickering over your face, appearing almost desperate to read your reaction since you couldn’t seem to verbalize how you felt.
But how could you let out a single word? He had romantic feelings for you too.
“We… we can talk later, if you’d like. You need your rest too…” he argued in a reluctant whisper.
There was no universe in which you were going to fall asleep, ever again and frankly you admired his self-restraint and willingness to wait after having just confessed he was interested in more than friendship and roommate-ship.
Steve Rogers, your Steve, was holding you in his arms, your bodies aligned, and he had feelings for you.
The soft expression – and the nervous energy radiation off him – whispered urgently of you not having read too much into his gestures, of your naïve hopes not being all that naïve, of all of this being true even as it left like a dream.
Maybe it was. But if it was, you’d cling to it and never let go.
And if it was by some miracle true, you sure as hell would never ever let sleep take you, because then… well.
The corners of your lips twitched minutely in an incredulous self-deprecating smile.
You were thoroughly warmed up, all shivers having subdued a long time ago, but something inside you trembled more than your voice.
“I can’t sleep now... I’ll think I’d dreamed all this up. That it wasn’t real,” you whispered hastily, “I… I want it to be real.”
Tension melted from Steve’s body at last, muscles having been tight as a bowstring easing into their mere usual firmness. His lips, those inviting lips, curled up in a smile, an echo of his eyes twinkling with something soft and exciting.
“Sounds like a dream to me too, yeah,” he admitted, your pulse nearing the speed that would sooner or later surely lead to cardiac arrest, your mind screaming with dozen of swirling thoughts.
He liked you. Steve like-liked you, perhaps maybe, just a little, on his way to love you, shared sleep, trust and love, he had dreamed of this too, he-
“How about…” he hummed, hand slowly cupping your cheek, tilting your head up and guiding you to lift it off his chest, causing your head to spin sweetly.
You could have easily escaped the tender touch; but you didn’t want to, not in a million years. You leaned into it instead, a pleasant twist deep within your belly, a shaky exhale leaving your parted lips, air swiftly drawn back as Steve leaned down, eyes roaming your face for any sign of protest. Finding none, his eyes earned a new kind of glow that warmed you up like no blanket or shower could, his lips neared dangerously, a silent wishful sigh as your fingertips stroked lightly over his chest.
“…we share a moment so real there’s no doubt left?”
There was no doubt left; and not a second of hesitation.
It occurred to you how absurd the reasoning was, to have a real moment, what a feeble excuse; as if you hadn’t dreamed of this before, as if the images of kissing Steve hadn’t haunted your nights, so vivid and so tangible morning had felt like razor tearing the masterpiece of a canvas apart; but that thought was but a silent voice in the very back of your mind and you did not care for it in the slightest.
On the other hand, Steve was right here and you’d do just about anything he’d suggest.
“Yes.”   
The second the breathless sound left you, Steve’s lips were pressed to yours, soft and warm and real, an electrifying sensation of right rushing through your very being, proving Steve’s damn point; your dreams could have never done justice to this.
Not to the way his lips moulded against yours, the tentative touch turning eager the very moment you pressed against him.
Not to the way he felt so perfectly solid and soft under your palm, against your side, against your thigh.
Not to the way his hand on your arm curled around your bicep and squeezed when your lips parted for him with a choked whimper.
Not to the way his fingertips caressed along your jaw to your chin, tipping your head back further to truly kiss you.
Not to the way you couldn’t get enough of it, of his touch, of his taste, chocolate and sugar and home, of his scent, invading your senses in the most wonderful attack you’d yield to with delight.
When your lips parted with a gasp, your name like the sweetest endearment on his lips, his forehead rested against yours, sharing your breath, your space, the wild beats of your hearts.
It seemed that some of those beats of his heart truly might be for you; just like quite a few of yours were for him.
And it was beautiful.
An unwitting chuckle spilled from your lips, the euphoria coursing your veins spilling over, rewarded by a soft stroke of Steve’s thumb over your cheek, a deep inhale, your eyes fluttering open to his soft but blinding smile you couldn’t but mirror.
God, he was the most stunning man you had ever seen in your life.
Had you not been rendered speechless by the kiss, his beauty would have done the job.
And if that hadn’t been enough, the way he was looking at you, as if you had hung the moon and the stars and he would have hung them for you if you had just asked – how had you never noticed it before? – now that would have done you for.
You had no words; but it seemed that for the moment, neither did he.
And so your gaze flickered down to his lips, now more tempting than ever, and you let action speak louder than words.
Cupping his face in return, you kissed him again, and let the coincidence or perhaps fate, that had led you to spill your secrets at the precipice of sleep, take reigns again, not at all protesting when Steve’s hands roamed to your waist, a silent invitation for you to move closer in any way you wished.
You let the moment take you wherever it would lead, quite happy if the half-wit you had called yourself earlier that day lost all her wits to Steve’s softly demanding mouth.
Maybe next time you’d get caught in the rain, he’d be there soaking with you; and maybe just like he hadn’t cared for getting his clothes wet earlier either, you’d both stand there in the downpour in an embrace of lovers, caring little for the water dripping all over you.
As long as he’d keep kissing you.
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Complete masterlist
Steve Rogers masterlist
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Happy autumn, everyone 💕 I know I should be working on my longfic but my brain seems distracted by various short-fic ideas, often fullfilling writing challenges...
I really enjoyed this one 🥰 and I hope that so did you!
Have a lovely autumn!🍂
P.S. - For those interested, the quote comes from Milan Kundera's novel Unbearable Lightness of Being (L'insoutenable légèreté de l'être or Nesnesitelná lehkost bytí).
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lovelybotblog · 2 months ago
Text
bed quem !
“– Who’s that cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent? ”
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satoru gojo! x female reader!
summary: You're at a party hosted by the company you work when fate brings you together with the most breathtaking man you've ever seen with a unique sense of humor, but, can you play along? contents: slight use of "y/n", suggestive, cursing, sunshine x grumpy, fluff, non-curse au word count: 8k
The investment fund you worked for, one of the great pioneers in the New York economy business, was throwing a party to celebrate the merger with a Japanese company, several exchanges of partners and workers between countries were already underway, and you were one of the workers who benefited with a promotion.
So at the same time you credited a small part of the celebration to your position as one of the new company's controllers. And also your colleagues in the area, because from time to time they came up to you to congratulate you.
“Hey, y/n!” You heard a voice calling you in a festive tone.
You looked around trying to find where that voice was coming from through the speakers that were playing electronic music louder than the normal for an executive event. The owner of the company loved to rock his parties, you could describe it as unforgettable and overdoing.
You were surrounded by people talking and dancing, your vision under the liquors you acquired during the night made your vision poorer and the phosphorescent colored lasers that ran throughout the event hall blinded you when they passed through your sight.
“Congratulations.” You felt the hairs on your neck stand up when you felt an unfamiliar grip on your shoulder, the warmth exuded from the voice meeting the flesh of your ear.
You glanced over your shoulder, taking a preemptive step back. “Jackson.” You greeted.
"If I was harsh with you earlier, it was because I wanted to motivate you." It was one of your male colleagues, not one you liked. “I always knew you'd get here.” You knew he hoped you didn’t.
“Thank you.” You responded with a pursed, thin, not heart-holy smile.
He mirrored your expression, taking a small breath before speaking again, “Now that we are in the same branch, any misunderstanding we may have had is best forgotten.”
You forced yourself to control your eyes from popping out of your sockets as your glare intensified, feeling the grip on the glass in your hand tighten. He was a real punk. When you were working for him as an analyst not more than a couple of months ago, he yelled at you calling you ‘useless bitch’ when his irreverent purchase went wrong and blamed you for your numbers being wrong (which were not), when he was the one risking it all for a few million when the estimates you’d given him were clearly low.
“You think so?” You didn't know if the heat you felt was because of your growing anger or the high temperature of the place.
“Definitely,” He answered you, letting out the annoying laugh that you had to endure so many times after hearing him tell one of his sickening jokes first thing in the morning. You brought your French 76 to your mouth, settling the taste of the vodka into your system to put up with more of the thug in front of you.“For the sake of the team.” He winked at you.
The glass stopped on your lips, your eyebrow suffering an unnoticeable twitch. For the sake of the team you should break the glass over his head.
“You guys having fun?” Another one of your colleagues joined the conversation, breaking the closeness the man had forced between you and him.
“Akira! I was hoping to see you.” Your voice came out with happiness, surrounding your senior colleague's shoulders, full of gratitude. She chuckled, fully knowing the reason for your mannerism.
“Am I interrupting something?" She questioned, bringing her index finger to her chin in curiosity, staring sharply at the man in front of you.
Who shook his head, bringing the hand that was previously on your shoulder to the back of his neck, a nervous giggle escaping from his lips. "Not at all, I was just congratulating y/n on her achievement."
Akira nodded, grappling one of her arms to your waist, her gaze not slipping from the man at any moment. The “Mama bear” nickname given by the employees was truly accurate and Jackson was a known pain in the ass, so it was her job to keep him in line. In addition to being treated with fear for being CFO, Akira was also respected for being the only woman with her position in the branch.
Jackson scanned the room, looking for someone else to bother, "If you'll excuse me, ladies." He vowed his head before leaving the scene.
You laughed next to your senior while watching the man's back. “He’s such a moron.”
“He is.” The woman sighed, finally concentrating on your state. “And I should get you a drink, we have to celebrate my little chick hatching.” Akita teased you, squeezing your side. She was the one you did your internship with. She made you go through hell with paperwork and marathons to hand out schedules from one executive to another, but with impeccable effort and paranoia of failure, you managed to get through it with honors.
You both walked towards the bar, making your way through the crowd and greetings from colleagues. You felt your feet starting to ache from the pointed heels you were wearing, shiny black with an ankle strap, they were beautiful of course, but they were higher than what you usually wore.
Although the thought of your accomplishment rolling through your head cancelled it out. You could claim to be happy, it had been a long time since you felt proud of yourself.
"You said earlier that you were hoping to see me, is there anything in particular you want to talk about?" Akira asked you, her gaze searching for empty seats at the bartender's counter. Your arms let go of the woman when you realized how long you had been holding her.
"Oh, yeah. Before I came I was analyzing your idea of ​​buying that new company you rambled on a few days ago and it's actually not a bad idea, despite the small income they have now, in a year's time they will grow their incomes 45% percent. I think we should take the risk." You began to explain quickly and concisely as you were guided by the other. A smile escaping your lips at the idea of ​​all the new possibilities.
A small, incredulous laugh was heard from Akira, "M’kay, babes, I know you're all-excited and your child prodigy nature makes you hungry for action,” She interrupted herself to point to two lonely seats, heading towards them. “But enjoy your first big accomplishment.”
You felt a cold wave washing you out. Every cell in your body felt electrified, eager to learn, excited about how efficiently or poorly your ideas could turn out.
The other woman knocked the wood plank of the bar twice as she climbed onto the stool, you mimicked her action. “Two Margaritas, please.” She asked the bartender as he approached the two of you, he nodded at the petition and walked away.
You noticed that the bar was packed, people were really taking advantage of the free drinks. Groups stood close to the bar for easy ordering, couples were talking in the stools, and baristas paced back and forth with a mental list of the many orders.
“You are very smart, but you're also young. You shouldn't spend all your time working, go loco, screw up sometimes, it'll be okay." Akira lectured you, everyone with eyes could notice that you were a very committed person with the complement of your responsibilities, a little too much. "I know you mean well, but it can wait until we're on work hours." She continued, "We're at a party."
The party was formally work-related, so technically you were in work hours, you thought.
“When you get to your mid-forties depressive crises, you can bussy you up with work, but girl- a few years ago you were just a graduate, you still have time to live out the silly, saccharine crush and drunken weekends. What are you doing?” She made you question yourself.
You knew you were very dedicated to your career, but you realized you were starting to act like your father. A chill runned through your body.
"Look at me, I wish I had the availability you have." Your eyes scanned the woman from top to bottom. Her hair was thick and curly brown, her skin was a dark cinnamon color, and her eyes were tiger-like. Even though she had birthed two children, her curves were preserved intact.
I wouldn’t mind being busy if I looked like you in my forties, you restrained yourself to say. But you were a smart person, you understanded what she was trying to say from the beginning, the thing was that you had no motivation to do it.
The drinks arrived, “Thank you.” Both of you said to the bartender, following him with your eyes as he walked away again.
“I’m not a boring person.” You defended yourself, watching the woman raise her eyebrows and slightly widen her eyes.
“I know.” She answered, smiling with her lips, paying attention to the train of your thoughts.
“I go out.” You continued trying to remember interesting things you have done, Akira nodded as she said ‘okay’, “I date, I have gone on dates.” You added, remembering the dude who asked for your number in your local coffee shop and your old college friend who you ran into while waiting for the subway and asked you out, the one you’ve been texting for three weeks.
“I’m glad you do.” Akira responded, waiting for more opening from you. “My husband will pick me up, I can give you a ride if that's what you're worried about.” It was hard times with the security of women, she understanded if that’s what got you doubting, she would too.
“That would be nice.” You mumbled, that would change the cards on the table. You were celebrating, you reminded yourself. “I guess I could get a few drinks.” Akira’s composure regained its excitement.
“And maybe some shots after!” She added with a smile, moving closer to the edge of the stool.
“Yeah!” You nodded your head, trying to match her enthusiasm, realizing that maybe she was the one who needed the fun night and she was just trying to find a reason to go loco, as she said. There was obviously a lecture in her words, a try to change your mindset, and she kind of did, because you don’t remember well how she managed to convince you to drink the two margaritas. Then you ordered a line of shots that made the warm go up to your neck. Suddenly the loudness of the party didn’t bother you, and you felt happier, making you match your senior extrovertness.
People started to join your circle, one of your Mexican coworkers started shouting “Fondo, fondo, fondo!” As other of your coworkers drinked his beer from top to bottom. Everyone around cheered when he finished, it reminded you of your college days.
In any other business party that behavior would be completely judged, but apparently the ambience of this was given to do any kind of exaggerated outgoings for people to do. You knew that they were gonna regret that the day after and on Monday, everyone was gonna pretend they didn’t go nuts.
“Miss Campbell, the CEOs would like to introduce you to someone," One of the secretaries of the office whispered in Akira's ear, who nodded quickly. You got off the stool, reaching to your coworker, worried about being left alone.
“I'll be right back, wonder girl,” Your senior captivated your attention, patting you on the shoulder. “If you need anything, feel free to call me or text me, whatever.” She said before walking away, leaving you amazed that she looked like she hadn't had a drop of alcohol, walking upright and a stoic expression settling in when it came to business again.
You waved at her when Akira turned her head to see you, you smiled at her, trying to calm your nerves down when you noticed everyone around you was unknown to you. You stepped back to your seat but your back bumped into something.
“So, you are the wonder girl?” You heard a voice behind you making you jump, taking you out. You turned around, facing probably the most handsome man you have ever seen. You quickly noticed his unique white-snow hair, whose locks of hair decorated his big blue eyes as clear and bright as the sea water on a sunny day. The next thing you noticed was that he stole your seat, the one you left alone for like ten seconds. "I pictured someone different." He admitted with a smirk, letting a chuckle out.
You scoffed, trying to figure out if you were surprised by his boldness or his looks, probably both.
“Are you gonna tell me your name or…?” He asked, leaning his arm on the bar, tilting his head slightly, allowing himself the luxury of observing your facial features freely while you looked around to check that it wasn't a prank because there was no way someone could talk as shamelessly as him.
“My name? Who are you?” You questioned him. You noticed his slanted eyes, you assumed he was one of the Japanese employees who blended in with your company.
“I asked first,” He stated.
You huffed at his words, watching him roll back his shoulders, making you notice how broad he was compared to you.
You forced yourself to return your gaze to his eyes, not without first noticing the sunglasses hanging on his unbuttoned formal shirt, slightly giving more room to see his chest.
“And I didn't mean anything negative when I said I picture you differently.” The white-haired man clarified, leaning closer to your face. Even if you were standing and he was sitting, his face was leveled slightly higher. You crossed your arms, waiting to receive a worse comment, “I imagined someone more nerdy looking, maybe with ugly, giant glasses, and a somewhat evil personality.”
Your body relaxed at that, quickly changing your surprised expression to a questioning one, “What assures you that I’m not evil?”
He held your gaze for a few seconds, his smirk still plastered on his face. He leaned back, resting one arm on the bar and placing his other hand on his thigh. “Although you have quite a few envious people talking badly about you behind your back,” He began to speak, making you furrow your eyebrows at his words, “While I was waiting in line for my order to be taken, I noticed that, of all the people you were surrounded, you were the only one smiling so sincerely and purely the whole time.” He unfolded himself, his cheeky smile faded into a smaller but still sincere one.
“So, not only you stole my seat but you also were stalking me?” You pointed out, trying to focus on something other than the fact that someone who looks like him took the time to observe you. The heat returned to your neck and cheeks, it made you feel flattered, a bit of excitement even.
“Well, I'd say that you just happened to stand right in the spot I wanted to lay my eyes on. And the seat was empty, so I took it." He teased you, throwing his hands in the air.
“Oh, and you’re also a comedian.” You say before drinking the rest of the cocktail you still had in your hand, the ice cubes had already melted and the flavor was diluted. You were trying to figure out what to expect from this interaction.
Your sense of self-preservation was telling you to back away, he was making you nervous and that wasn't a good sign. You didn't know how to handle this type of situation -whatever his intentions were-, you deduced that he was probably just playing. But he was magnetic, he made your heart race, his mere presence was imposing. You felt drunk by the way his features seemed sculpted by the gods, by the way his voice was like a siren's song drawing you to the bottom of the sea, by the way his beauty numbed the pain caused by your heels.
He leaned forward as he watched you remove the contact of the glass with your lips, although it stopped midway when from the corner of your eyes you glanced at the way his arm muscles flex under the fabric of his white jacket, immediately sliding your gaze to his eyes. Now that he was closer you noticed how long and full his eyelashes were. “And you are pretty.” He admitted.
You feel your chest rise up and down at this, taking a deep breath that crashes into his face, making him flicker his eyelashes brushing the top of his cheeks. His innocent words might not have any meaning, he might be messing with you, but you also couldn't help the nauseous feeling of highschool-like when the popular guy smiles at you.
You didn't want to smile at his compliment, you didn't even know his name, you were being irreverent. But it was obvious that he worked for the same company, so it shouldn't be so dangerous to trust him, no, you shouldn't let your guard down. Your internal fight was making you more confused.
“I don’t know your name.” You verbalized when no other response came to your mind.
The man didn't seem unfazed, he quickly catched that his name was not your only concern. "Well I don't know your name either."
“But you know my nickname, I think that's already an advantage for you over my personal info. It’s only the fair to give me your name." You fought back.
His brows cured together with a hint of hesitation. His soft smile was intact but it was more than obvious that his thoughts were plotting, he licked his lips, “Then no names.” He proposed.
You could reject him and walk away from the situation without any problem, but you would be lying if you denied that you were curious about him. Plus Akira’s lecture had an impact on your brain chemistry.
“Fine by me.” You agreed, leaving the glass of your hand on the counter.
And as if planned, the barista just happened to leave three diluted reddish drinks that seemed to be cosmopolitans and another dark red glass in front of Gojo. “Thank you,” He muttered, handing the man behind the bar a generous tip. He turned to look at you out of the corner of his eye but you managed to look away before he catched you. “Are you keeping me company?”
“Uhm, weren’t you supposed to take this somewhere?” You pointed out the glasses on the counter.
“I am in no hurry.”
You raised an eyebrow at his immediate, smugly and playful response. “Won’t your friends miss you?” You questioned him with a smile at his smooth talk.
“They’ll understand.” He tried to play it off knowing damn well his friends were in fact not gonna understand.
“Kay’,” You nodded, leaning on one of your feet, your left hand playing with the edge of the counter next to you. “Cool, cool, cool.” You said, instantly regretting it.
You looked down as you pulled your beautiful black sheer dress with nude bottom from your stomach down, which had gathered at the base of your waist from when you were sitting.
You wanted to lean on something, preferably sit down, but you also didn't want to change the position of the man in front of you. You didn’t even realize you were stuck in the middle of his manspreading.
“So, are you staying with me?” His voice took you out of your thoughts as he rested his head on his bicep, lowering the level of his head to be able to connect his gaze with yours, still on the ground.
You couldn't help but let out a small smile as his eyes shone craving to capture your attention, his smile widening when he succeeded.
Then reality hit you, you shouldn’t like being enthralled by his charms, you couldn’t. It was exciting, yes, but it was wrong because, “I’m with someone.”
That sounded ugly, it turned your stomach to say that, but it turned your stomach more to see his smile slowly disappear, you were starting to get used to it.
“I mean, he’s not my boyfriend yet.” That garbage of a sentence escaped from your mouth, the man in front of you tilted his head as a confusion expression grew on his face, “But I’m talking to someone, and he might get to be my boyfriend at some point,” You should stop talking, “-and I think it would be immoral of me to talk to you being aware of the other person's feelings, not that I think you’re flirting with me! Ha-ha,” You should really stop talking, “He trusts me, I wouldn’t like to betray him.” You finally finished, letting out a sigh, closing your eyes against your verbal diarrhea, that was humiliating.
That's why you didn't go on dates or go crazy like Akira told you, because everything ended up screwed up like now, painfully accurate like she said. You were about to apologize and leave, your burning face buried in your hands as a bursted laugh cut you up.
“Good, I hate betrayal,” he told you, his accent slipping through his words. You separated two spaces between your fingers to make way for your eyes, noticing that his hands were now resting on his knees, at your sides. He offered you a soft smile as he tried to imagine a man more handsome, polite, stronger, funnier and skillful -in any kind of way- than him, but he couldn’t, “But us sharing a drink while we chat isn’t overstepping the mark, is it?”
You thought about it a bit, you didn’t know anything about him, but he was at the company party, so he had to work in one of the companies, probably the Japanese one, and seeming that they became one, that turns you into coworkers sharing time to strengthen the union of companies. Camaraderie, that’s it.
“I guess not.”
His smile grew -watching as your expression relaxed- proud and cheeky, but his eyes remained soft, trying to remain understanding if you denied his invitation.
Even if he was a smooth talker, when it came to girls he never really needed it, it was natural that they always approached him. But you were a totally different kind of afterglow, everything he'd heard about you, good or bad, wasn't enough to prepare him for a stunner like you.
If he took your seat, it wasn't because he wanted to sit as he said, but because from the moment he was in line to order you caught his eye, eclipsing everyone in the room, making his legs weak with your dancing silhouette under the fluorescent lights of the disco and your smile that could light up the darkest nights.
“Okay, then let’s talk,” The mysterious man pressed, his gaze piercing your hands still over your face, trying to see that little giddy smirk of yours. He pulled away again and slid one of his drinks towards you. “You set the limit.”
You let out a giggle-sigh like, he was truly breathtaking. And a skilled manipulator, because it was the first time a man charms had convinced you to give in to your own warnings.
You shifted your weight to your other foot, still hesitant, “Fine.” You agreed, lowering your guard as you reached out to the drink, the tip of your fingers brushing against his as he took a couple of seconds to let go of the glass that shuddered on your hand when you were obnoxiously pushed from behind with a subsequent ‘sorry' from a person poking their head in the bar trying to get the barista’s attention.
“Let’s go to the sofa, it’s too noisy here.” You forced yourself to say to the white-haired man in front of you when you noticed the slight annoyance that grew on his eyebrows towards the person who pushed you.
He nodded, as you didn't miss the way he effortlessly took the remaining three drinks between his long fingers. When he stood up you felt a flutter run through your body when you noticed how he towered you and his muscular shoulders and flexed arms significantly framed your figure.
He guided you, making you way through the crowds, to where you had previously pointed out some sofas in the corner of the place, which although it was the quietest area, it was only because all the people there were flirting or hiding in the darkness to smooch. If he was honest, he wouldn't mind if your old monologue was thrown out the window and you opted for the second option.
He sat down first, then you imitated him, putting more distance between the two of you that you would like.
“I don’t bite.” He growled at you, watching as you leaned over on the edge of the sofa now gaining enough confidence to attentively observe the drinks he had placed on the table in front of you.
He rolled his eyes although that was just a facade to hide the fact that he almost tripped when you were walking behind him and he peaked a glance at you just to catch you checking him out.
In any other time he would use that to make the other person nervous, but in this case, your case, was just different. He knew you were smart enough to quickly throw a comeback, and even if it wasn’t a very strong one, you had the power to make him giggle with anything you said and he still couldn’t understand that.
“Are you serious? Cranberry juice?” You snatched at him, passing your nose over the glass he previously had in his hand, completely ignoring his silent request. “This is what kids drink.” You chuckled.
He raised an eyebrow, placing his arm on the back of the sofa and cupping his cheek on his hand, expectant to hear your thoughts.
“I understand if drinking isn’t your hit, but there are so much better things to drink, you know?” You said as you turned to him, returning your gaze to his eyes.
“Like what?” He played along with you, a roguish tone dancing in his voice, low and taunting. You noticed how his eyes traveled from you to the arm's length of empty space between you, clearly bothered by it. “Something like that?” He loosely pointed out the drink in your hand, the one offered to you earlier.
“I mean, this has alcohol, but yeah,” You responded, you knew what was probably coming next but you still let it continue.
He smirked, beautifully, godly and unreal. He was the kind of person you meet once in a lifetime, the type of person that leaves you awestruck with his beautiful, ethereal presence. And you had him in front of you, talking to you so casually, so willing to do what you said that made you annoyed.
It took your breath away to think how far you could take it.
“I wouldn’t mind trying it.” His calm voice silenced the techno music blasting your ears. You reached your hand towards one of the cocktails on the table, but he stopped you, “No, I want to try that one.” His gaze layed on the glass held by your fingers.
When he told you he wanted to share a drink you didn’t expect to be literal.
“All three drinks are the same,” You clarified, the corners of your mouth curling up but freezing the moment the white-haired man slid across the sofa towards you in one motion.
The fresh, mannish scent of his perfume made its way into your nostrils.
“But this one looks extra delicious,” he replied, watching the way your lashes brushed against your high cheekbone in disbelief. “Would taking a sip be crossing the line?” He continued talking, placing his hand on top of yours that was holding the glass, you were as surprised as he was that he dared to do so.
It took you a couple of seconds to release your grip on the glass until you were sure he had a good hold on it. You were really trying not to fall for his charms, for the sake of your situation-ship, but it was like his hands were meant to meet yours.
You watched him bring the glass to his lips, his attention never leaving your expectant eyes. You brought a hand over your heart and formed a fist as you felt the rhythm increase and beat harder when you realized your knee was brushing against his.
“Did you like it?” You forced yourself to ask, biting the inside of your cheeks trying to ignore the heat that grew after taking awareness of your contact with him.
He took the glass from his lips with a tight-lipped smile. At this point the alcohol punch should already be settling and his tongue flavoring the acid from the cranberry and lime juice. He slowly nodded at your question, trying to widen his smile but it only turned into a distorted grimace.
You let out a chuckle, his eyebrows unknitted together when you inadvertently patted him on the shoulder, “Do you want to spit it back into the glass?” You questioned, noticing how his cheeks were still puffed out.
He nodded again, quickly bringing the glass to his mouth to spit the liquid out of his mouth, not before covering the action with his free hand to not disgust you.
“Yuck…” He chirped while his facial muscles twitched, leaning towards the table to leave the glass, you were close enough to catch a hint of his perfume in the breeze he produced. Yet you got so carried away that you didn't notice when your body moved forward on its own to catch more of him.
It smelled woody, sensual and expensive.
“I like your scent.” You took the opportunity to give him a compliment when he had his back turned, a way of establishing that you had no problem with him.
You sat up straight again, nervously playing with your fingers, glancing at his profile, catching a pleased smile forming on his face.
“Thank you.” He appreciated, bringing one knee up onto the sofa as he twisted his torso to look at you again, a witty smirk warning you, “Now let me smell you.”
That hitched your breath, unsure if you heard right. “Kinky~,” You tried to tease him.
“You heard me right, don’t think I didn’t notice you sniffing me.” He laughed, sounding coming from the belly, like when children laugh and throw themselves back.
You felt the heat burn your cheeks, if it weren't for the low lighting of the place, you're sure you would be as red as a cherry. You had just been exposed by him.
“It’s only the fair!” He recalled your earlier complaint.
“What? No!” You replied with a frown, crossing your arms with your hands on the opposite shoulder as you remembered that your dress made you sweat, so you probably wouldn't smell as nice as you did in the beginning of the party. Plus, it was a ridiculous request to ask and accept.
“Why?” He asked, still with his playful tone lingering.
“Because it’s weird!” Your voice rose in exasperation, nearby couples looking at you in annoyance, causing the white-haired man to suppress a laugh when your tense expression turned into one an anxious one, wishing to stop being the center of attention.
“Well, then I could say the same about you.” Compared to you, he remained calm despite the insinuations.
Your head moved slowly from side to side, you couldn't believe how intimate the situation felt, the way his voice coaxed you, or why you were still there with him despite your own limitations.
It was clear that he was attracted to you, but you didn't understand why. He could have anyone he wanted, he could bewitch people with his mere appearance, and yet you were the person in the room he devoted his time to.
He confused you, he made you doubt yourself and your knowledge, when in your whole life you had always had everything clear and established.
You didn't know if he was a divine gift, or if he was a test of restraint.
“Come on.” He pressed on, adjusting himself in his seat, a smug grin widening in his face.
A flutter began to trot across your chest, your fingers pressed deeper into your skin, the thought of his figure near you made your body tingle.
“This is such a weird way to flirt,” You muttered, lowering your gaze to the sunglasses hanging on his shirt.
“I don’t see anyone flirting.” You heard him reply in the same low tone as yours, moving closer.
You couldn't even look him in the eyes, you were too embarrassed at the realization that you liked his attention, because you shouldn’t.
“You are stupid,” You said under an incredulous chortle, letting your arms slide down your body into your lap.
You felt guilty for keeping talking to him knowing his intentions and your reveries about the cute boy in front of you.
It wasn't entirely your fault, because although the guy you were romantically involved with was smart, attentive and average looking, but he was also kind of boring, you could never laugh with him because he never understood your jokes and he was quite judgmental.
Maybe it was just excuses, like the ones cheaters make after committing the act.
“Then let me continue being stupid,” he said, putting his arm on the edge of the sofa behind you. Your heart lifted as you felt his figure close once again, heat beginning to ignite your body.
From then on everything began to feel like it was in slow motion, from the moment you looked up and you were enchanted by his sparkling and magnetic eyes, as blue as the sea in summer, until your head leaned back without your order, opening the way for your bare neck as if you didn’t owned your body.
And you sat there, waiting for him to get close, “Am I crossing a line?” He mumbled just a palm away from your face.
“You’re about to.” You responded in the same playful tone with a bit of a warning written under lines which was forgotten the instant he made you nervously giggle when you felt his warmth breath electrify the bridge of your neck, causing your skin to prickle.
His hand was still on the side of your hip, his forearm gently brushing your waist, almost unnoticeable if it weren't for the heightened level of your senses. It was like you were trapped in a bubble, immersed in innocent intimacy.
“Am I crossing the line?” He teased you, his azure gaze connecting with yours, leaning forward just a few inches from your skin.
His malicious smirk spread across his face, making you roll your eyes at his mischief. He was too cheeky, too cocky.
You felt so hot, both because of the temperature of the place and the situation. He laughed, confident and amused by the situation. Having him close, led you to notice that he was as tipsy as you.
You looked up at the ceiling to try to ignore the reasonably strange looks from the people around you, although you could still get a sight of the man's whitish hair at the corner of your eyes.
It didn't take long for you to feel his nose touching and sniff the crook of your neck, hitching your breath, “Am I crossing the line now?” He whispered, sending a goosebump through your spine. You slowly shook your head, trying to keep your hand on your lap and not brushing with your fingers his hair that looked so silky and shiny, that even from a distance it was easy to detect the smell of his shampoo.
Then his touch traveled from your cleavage to the crease of your armpit and you quickly pushed him back with a hand on his chest, he immediately bursted out laughing.
“What is wrong with you?!” You scolded him, smacking him in the chest, dying of embarrassment. Your face burned hotter than you'd ever felt before, your nose and cheeks itched and burned as if a bucket of boiling water had been thrown on you.
He was lying on his shoulders, his chest going up and down with each laugh he let out, you could distinguish his abdomen contracting even through his shirt.
“M’ sorry! Sorry, ” He apologized amidst giggles, trying to sit up, one of his hands traveling to your wrist when you tried to stand up. “Just so you know- you didn’t smell bad at all.” You stood up again with your back to him, but he pulled you back and turned you around, plopping down on the couch again, “In fact, you smelled like really good.” He promised now seated properly.
His jeering voice had faded into a convincing sweet one, with puppy eyes and all.
“Don’t go.”
You should, but didn’t want to.
“I didn’t mean to offend you or anything, well- I did want to annoy you but because that’s the only way you look me in the eyes with your eyebrows furrowed and a little pout.” He started chattering, desperate to explain himself.
Your eyes traveled to his grip on your wrist, just tight enough to keep you close without hurting you, one of his fingers slowly massaging the palm of your hand to calm you down. “You command.”
You looked up again, now watching him lick his plump pink lips. Your breathing was labored, your thighs were pressed together, and your free hand was squeezing your knee.
Something inside you felt minisculely change, your gaze joined with his felt heavier and more connected than before, it was as if you could feel him deep in your chest, like a knot that you couldn't swallow.
“Is your heart racing?” He asked you in a breath, his hand twitched against your skin.
“How do you know that?” Your breath was trapped, trying to climb up your rib cage, sending a burning ache you couldn’t let out.
“Well, because mine is,” He let out with a chuckle, bringing a hand to his chest and pressing it into a fist when he felt his heart was going to jump out.
You wanted to laugh, you wanted to scream, both at the same time. The feeling of his eyes made you feel as if you two were dancing under a spotlight in a room full of darkness.
At first you thought it was his incomparable beauty that kept you hooked on the conversation, but it was actually him, his jokes, his teasing, who made you feel like you were in a fever dream.
And he was the one who was confessing to you that his heart was racing, he was the one who looked at you like if you were a tasty meal he craved, he was the one who you would allow to pin you down on the floor just because his jokes just hit different.
He scooched over to you, his free hand laying on the side of your thigh, his thumb caressing over the cloth of your dress, trying to steal your attention out of your thoughts. And when you did, you drove your eyes to him, although you felt unable to hold his gaze, his eyes softly sparked with his pupils dilated and his grin stretched, his head tilting afterward.
Your mouth was gaped half open, being interrupted by a shy beam spreading across your face, sinking at your sight. Your body moved closer to his and you giggled, after the nervous cute rant the man in front of you threw, now you couldn’t deny to yourself that he was genuinely interested in you. Unthought-of words were about to spill out of your mouth.
“Gojo!” Gojo?
A loud, rigid voice broke the moment, whisking away your low guard, walls starting to build up again. By inertia you removed your hand from his grip.
“Satoru Gojo!” Satoru? “You have erased any non-existent respect I had for you.”
The white-haired man paled, his expression twisted as he slowly turned towards the voice marching angrily towards your way.
“Nanamin- ouch!” The man in front of you standed, trying to defend himself two seconds before being flicked in the forehead. Your eyes went wide.
“You prick, do you know how important the man you promised to invite a drink is?” A stoic voice coming from a muscular body spoke. You knew him, blond hair, prominent cheekbones and deep eye bags due to overwork. “Y/n…” His hard expression faded when he noticed your presence.
Kento Nanami, you were colleagues in the same branch, he was transferred from the Japanese company no more than two months ago.
“Hey,” You greeted him with a sheepish smile, standing immediately when he addressed you.
His hazel eyes analyzed you and then the man in front of you, well, Satoru Gojo, now you knew his name.
“You know each other?” Satoru questioned, adding himself in the conversation, one eyebrow raised mistrustfully, trying to keep his tone neutral.
“I didn’t know you hung out with people of his kind.” The blonde man told you, straightening his tie, embarrassed that you saw the stiff demeanor he specifically saved for Gojo, who Nanami looked up and down.
“My kind?” The white-haired man whined, a hand on his chest exaggerating his offended feelings. “How do you know each other?” He pressed, masking a smile, trying to step closer to you but ineffectively succeeding through being pulled by the collar of his jacket by the other man.
“It’s always a pleasure to see you, y/n.” Nanami turned to you, his friendly tone returning with a subtle smile. “But our flight back to Japan leaves in less than eight hours and we still have to apologize for ditching an executive and finish packing.”
“Wait-” Satoru called.
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” The blond man apologized, pushing his companion away.
“No, Nanamin-” He was cut again.
Your gaze tried to pay attention to Nanami but Satoru's voice stole your attention, leaving your stomach in knots from the rush. The white-haired man who was constantly covered by his colleague tried to connect his gaze with yours, the urgency to find a way to contact you again grew in him.
“We shall go.” Nanami quickly said goodbye, pushing Satoru into the sea of people again, you tried to keep up with them. But you got stuck in a crowd of unknown people, you didn't even had the chance to stop them, to say goodbye to him.
A sudden, despondent weight fell upon you. That newly found harmony had been overwritten, you were left with a disjointed heartbeat and unfinished confessions. You felt as if you had been thrown into the driest and hottest desert, accompanied by a withered hope.
You sat down in the first seat you found, your legs feeling devastated not only by tiredness, but also by the fact that you actually got carried away by a conversation with someone whose name you didn't know. You never had experienced this, what should you do? You weren’t sure if you should even look into the matter further. You wanted to think that it was meant to end like this anyway, after all that was the agreement, just a quick chat over a drink.
Your stomach felt queasy, although that was probably due to the alcohol you had ingested.
What ifs came to your mind, what if even after all Satoru was actually playing? Nanami said ‘his kind’, what kind? A player? You didn’t believe that was the case, still, it wouldn’t surprise you if it was.
But, what if everything was truly heart-felt? What if the mesmerizing glimmer of his eyes when he soft-spoke to you was sincere? That damn drowning blue eyes, mocking pearly-white smirk, face carved by the gods and purring delirious voice.
You buried your head in your hands and lost count of the time you spent replaying the memories of the night in your head over and over again, every look, every touch, every breath taken.
You deep in thought scolding yourself at how ridiculously pathetic you were for giving so much importance to an interaction that you didn't know if your thoughts intensified the relevance when someone tapped your shoulder.
“Y/n.” Someone sweetly whispered.
When you raised your head you saw Akira in front of you, a pleased smile on her face. She didn't even knew the reason why you were melted in your seat alone but she could assume it was because you followed her advice.
“It’s time to go home.” She continued saying. You covered your eyes with one hand to block out the radiance of the lights, you didn't even notice when the place began to empty.
“Okay,” You accepted, getting up from your spot, the woman in front of you linked her arms with you to give you support, now the liquor had hit you properly. “My head hurts.” You complained.
“Wait ‘till tomorrow, it will get worse.” She laughed as you growled.
You both walked to the reception to pick up your jackets and bags and then went out to the entrance of the place, watching the cars passing by on the street, not taking long to find Akira's husband's car, who greeted you from the driver's seat.
Akira helped you get into the back seat and then climbed into the passenger seat, you quickly closed your eyes and leaned your head back. You heard her ask if you were okay and you just nodded, taking a sip of the water she offered you.
Your mind was no longer worried about giving the direction of your apartment because they already knew the way from the times you invited them to eat dinner, now you could agonize in peace of mind while you fell asleep.
The movement of the car against the street lulled you and the air conditioning leveled your temperature.
The movement of the car against the street lulled you and the air conditioning leveled your temperature, your consciousness was about to turn off when a 'ding' woke you up, you grimaced at it and tried to go back to sleep, since the ride to your house was long, but the same sound rang out again.
You turned on your phone screen and the notification bubble returned energy to your body.
Nanami (work):
Satoru Gojo
Create new contact / Add to existing contact
You scrolled down the messages and it was an attached photo, you clicked on it and zoomed it, it was a photo of Gojo asleep in the Uber, your lips curved up when you saw how angelic he looked when he wasn't acting like a jerk, his long eyelashes curled when they reached his high cheekbones and his hair looked more disheveled than when you met at the beginning of the night.
The photo had a description on the foot.
Nanami (work): I just send you his contact. If you're really going to give him a chance, do it soon because he whined until he fell asleep about how I sabotaged his chance with a ‘baddie’.
You couldn't help but laugh at Nanami's message and his sincerity. I made you question if he phrased it that way to help his friend or to boycott him. Even so, a relief began to drain your dreadful thoughts from your body, as if that revelation canceled all your personal issues to resolve.
And It did, a little, because deep down you knew that what you lived was real, that the way he saw you was how you supposed, that everytime he tastes cranberry juice he’ll think of you.
But what you didn't know was that you left quite an impression, and that you enchanted him and became the reason his heart pounds even if you're not around.
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hi guys!!! I saw a tiktok of a girl who said she wanted to read something about satoru with sabrina’s song bed quem so I worked on it. please tell me if this funny or weird because wrote it in the lapse of 3 weeks and idk how to feel about it. Pls share your thoughts xoxo
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