#and it says a lot that I feel like I see this conversation popping up every season for a different black character and yet
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maretinelli · 17 hours ago
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A GREAT MOTHER TO BE
Oscar Piastri X Dentist!fem!reader
Summary: Y/n Piastri has a pediatric dentist office and this leads to many fun conversations with the children. Oscar overhears one of the genuine conversations and is sure that she will be a great mother in a few months.
Words: 1.7K+
Warnings: Cute, mention of Y/n's work, cute patients, Y/n's pregnancy, Husband and wife, and again, so cute
Author: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. And you can request stories on my profile❤️🇧🇷
MASTERLIST
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Y/n always said her job was an adventure. Each child who entered her office brought a unique personality and stories that made them laugh, reflect and, often, be enchanted.
As a pediatric dentist, she knew it wasn't just about caring for children's teeth, but also about creating a safe and welcoming environment for little ones to feel comfortable.
At the end of each day, it was almost a ritual for her to come home and tell stories to Oscar, who listened attentively while caressing his wife's belly, which was already rounded by four months of pregnancy.
He loved listening to her describe the children's antics, laughing at their imitations or exaggerated expressions as he recounted how the unlikely conversations between her and her patients took place.
At the moment, Y/n was working another day at the office. Y/n gently adjusted her stool and leaned towards her little patient, a four-year-old girl named Emily. With golden curls tied with a blue ribbon, Emily was the definition of curiosity.
"Okay, Emily, I'm going to use this little mirror here to take a look at your teeth, okay?" Y/n said with a reassuring smile, turning the small dental mirror in her hand.
Emily nodded quietly, but as soon as Y/n took the mirror out of her mouth, the inevitable question came.
"Why is he so small?"
Y/n chuckled softly, keeping her tone calm and playful. "Because I need it to fit in your little mouth. If it were bigger, you wouldn't be able to see everything properly, right?"
"Ah... so he's like a princess mirror?" Emily concluded, her eyes shining.
"Exactly!" Y/n replied, finding the comparison amusing. "And with it, I can see all the hidden parts of your teeth castle." Y/n smiled at the girl and turned her amused gaze to Emily's mother, who was watching the procedure. "She's so sweet!" Y/n said smiling.
Emily's mother laughs in agreement. "And very curious, you see."
Satisfied with the explanation, Emily opened her mouth again. Y/n picked up an instrument to check for a small cavity, but as soon as she took it out, another question popped up.
"What is that? A paintbrush?"
"It's an instrument that helps me clean places where the brush can't reach" Y/n explained. "It's like a magic broom to keep everything clean."
"My mom will want one of these!" Emily responded excitedly, eliciting a laugh from Yin and her mother who was sitting in an armchair at the back of the office.
Outside, Oscar had parked his car in the parking lot and entered his wife's office. He smiles at the receptionist and she briefly says that Y/n was answering. Already knowing that he was her boss's husband.
Oscar smiles in agreement. "Oh sure, I was a little early, just..." He looks at his watch and smiles. "We have an appointment to see our baby in an hour."
The receptionist smiles and nods. And then the pilot walks down the hallway until he reaches the waiting room, which was in front of Y/n's office.
The environment was so colorful and full of life from the children passing by that Oscar felt more and more anxious to have his baby in his arms.
With the door to her office half open, Oscar could hear his wife talking calmly to the child she was treating, while the little one laughed and asked more questions about the dental equipment she used.
He couldn't stop smiling when he heard how Y/n handled the little girl with so much patience and affection, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
As Y/n explained each step to Emily, Oscar found himself thinking about what it would be like when it was their baby there, asking the same curious questions and seeking answers with the same sweetness.
Y/n adjusted the instruments on the tray beside her while little Emily lay there, waiting patiently.
"We're almost done, princess" Y/n said with a warm smile, standing up to get more gauze from the nearby cabinet. As she stood up, she instinctively placed a hand under her belly, the gesture so natural that she didn't even notice.
Emily, however, widened her eyes at the movement and pointed, with an innocent and curious smile.
"Ah, you have a baby with you!"
Y/n chuckled, turning to the little girl as she picked up the gauze. "Yes, I have a baby here with me."
"Do you take him everywhere?" Emily asked naively, her eyes shining with curiosity.
Y/n and the girl's mother laughed at the comment.
"Yes, I will. But only for nine months," Y/n replied, sitting back down in the chair next to the little girl. "Actually, after I'm done here with you, I also have an appointment to see how he's doing."
Emily opened her mouth, eager for Y/n to continue the procedure, but she couldn't hold back the questions. As soon as Y/n finished, Emily leaned forward in her chair and asked excitedly.
"And what is his name? Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"
Y/n arranged the instruments and smiled. "My husband and I haven't decided on a name yet, but it's a little boy."
Emily smiled even wider. Y/n helped her down from the chair and the little girl ran to her mother. Before leaving, Y/n took out a 'certificate of courage' and a shiny star pin and handed them to Emily.
"There you go, you were a very brave patient today!" Y/n said, handing over the items.
Emily looked at the brooch and certificate as if they were treasures and, before leaving with her mother, she turned to Y/n with an unexpected request.
"Could... could you bring a picture of the baby for me to see at my next appointment?"
Y/n chuckled softly, bending down to her level. "Of course. Next time, I'll bring a picture of my boy for you to see. But only if you promise me you'll brush your teeth properly, okay?"
Emily smiled excitedly and nodded in agreement.
Meanwhile, Oscar, who was still watching everything from the half-open door, felt his heart tighten. He already knew that Y/n was special, but seeing her like this, so natural, so affectionate with the children, only reinforced how lucky he was to have her.
Y/n gave him a gentle smile as she opened the office door, before turning to Emily's mother.
"If you can avoid sweets for now and help her brush her teeth after meals, I believe she won't have any more pain. We look forward to seeing you next week."
Emily's mother thanked her, and the little girl gave Y/n a tight hug before running out of the office, she smiled excitedly and ran in front of her mother, stopping at the reception to show the brooch to the receptionist.
Oscar then approached his wife, smiling as she watched the girl walk away. He gave her a soft kiss on the forehead.
"How are you, love?"
Y/n sighed, a calm smile on her lips.
"I'm fine, I'm just going to pack up before we go to the appointment."
Oscar walked her back to the office, watching her as she organized the instruments. He knew their lives would change completely in the coming months, but at that moment, he knew for sure that Y/n would be an incredible mother.
"You have a gift, you know?"
"Why?" Y/n asked curiously as she sanitized the instruments.
"The way you deal with these children. The patience, the calm manner... You can see how safe they feel with you."
Y/n blushed slightly. "Ah, it's work, Osc. We adapt."
Oscar shook his head, approaching his wife. "No, it's you. And I have no doubt: in a few months, you're going to be an incredible mother."
His words took her by surprise, and Y/n felt her eyes well up. She smiled, moving closer to him and placing a hand on her belly.
"I hope you're right, because I'm counting on your help, Mr. Piastri."
He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Always. Now let's go see how daddy's little boy is doing." He placed a hand on her back as he guided her to the office door.
She laughs. "No, he's definitely a mommy's boy. Isn't he, son?" She runs her hands over her belly and the baby moves. "Look, he moved. That means he agrees with me."
Oscar chuckled, bending down slightly to get closer to Y/n's belly. He gently ran his hand over the spot where the baby had moved.
"Little guy, listen to Daddy. You're my partner, right? You're going to help me with Mommy when she starts saying she's the boss around here."
Y/n gave a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Do you really think he'll take your side?"
Oscar looked up at her, a mischievous smile on his face. "I'm sure. We're already a team!"
"Of course they are..." Y/n replied, amused, running her hand through her husband's hair. "Until he's born, then he'll understand that, deep down, he's a mommy's little boy."
"We'll see!" Oscar teased and laced his fingers through hers as they walked down the hallway. "But in the meantime, let's see how our little champion is doing."
"Little champion?" Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Are you putting pressure on him already, Piastri?"
Oscar made an innocent gesture with his hands. "Not at all. I'm just saying that if he's half as good as you, he's already a champion."
Y/n stopped for a moment in the hallway, looking at him with a look full of tenderness. She leaned in and gave him a brief but meaningful kiss on the lips.
"You know how to make me emotional, you know?"
He smiled, squeezing her hand affectionately. "It's easy, you're everything to me."
And with that, Oscar opened the office door and led her to the car, as they laughed together about who the baby would choose as his favorite in the future.
That moment, so simple, yet so full of love and companionship, reinforced what Y/n already knew: They were not just a couple, they were a team, ready to face any challenge while anxiously awaiting the arrival of the baby that was already so loved.
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lostinlovingrevery · 2 days ago
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He's Definitely Obsessed With You: Chapter 3
Chapter 3: Just Kiss Already
Plot: You and Logan are finally beginning to navigate your relationship and your new lives together. Logan is carrying dark secrets, and finally opens up to you.
A/N: Oh lordy I'm finally done with it. It turned out so fluffy in the beginning and angsty in the end. It'll get better! (Then worse)
Warnings: Mentions of war, past history of violence, anxiety, a bit of jealously, a bunch of fluff towards the beginning, angst near the end, mentions of a past assault (not logan or reader) Logan just needs a hug, so does reader. Also logan is probably not super accurate to his character..?
Word Count: 7470
Prev<- ❤️ ->Next
Years of aching for someone you weren’t sure cared about you the same you did for them was forgotten about the moment Logan came back into your life.
The comfort and safety you always felt in his presence resumed, the admiration of the man you grew to know for over a year in a jungle had only grown stronger as you watched him adjust to a new life and do it with grace. Perhaps it’s because he’s done it before, he knew the drill. Yet still, you found yourself falling for him all over again. You knew him as Logan Howlett, soldier. While you both shared a closeness, there was still a war, there was always an air between you that prevented anything further developing. The most that would happen between you would be conversations of the future, lingering touches, and side glances. Now you could know him as Logan Howlett, friend. Although that’s not necessarily what you’d call your relationship.
Things were unspoken between you.
You found yourself truly looking forward to going out now, because he was going to be there. Although you didn’t go to the wild parties that Rose likes. That wasn’t Logans style and honestly wasn’t yours either, albeit you did it to please Rose and told yourself that it was a good idea even if you ended up dreading the whole ordeal anyway. You and Logan found yourselves doing more…Domestic activities. Movies, festivals, dinners, lunches, the local bar, even the gym. 
“You wanna go see the Exorcist tomorrow night?” 
Logan turned his attention away from the drunken people very badly singing karaoke at the small stage the bar had. The karaoke machine was a new addition to the lively bar, adding more atmosphere to the place that was already unique in it’s burnt orange and brown color scheme, neon signs, and pop art littering the walls. You were sitting in a booth together, his arm draped loosely around you. He quirked his brow in questioning. 
“The Exorcist?..” He asked, then smirked. “Ain’t that a movie about demons and all?”
“Yeeesss.” You respond with a singsong voice, meeting his eyes. He sipped his whiskey, not breaking eye contact from you. 
“No.” He says after firmly setting his beer back on the table. He licked his lips of the droplets of whiskey left on them, and you couldn’t help but stare and think, ‘I could clean that up for you’
You think a lot of things about Logan now. You don’t plan to stop. At one point you would’ve felt guilty to think something of a friend. You and Logan could not be considered friends anymore.
“Why not?” You asked in a whine. “I wanna see it! It looks good! My friend Marie says it was cool!”
“It’s gonna scare you. Just like that last movie.” He says. “Then I gotta listen to you whine about it. You’re gonna call me and complain about being too scared to sleep. Then neither of us will get any sleep.” 
“So?” You grin. “There’s an easy solution to that.”
“Is that so?”
“You just come stay with me after, and then I won’t be too scared. Your presence will scare off all the bad guys.”
Logan raised his brows up. “Yeah? Where am I gonna sleep then? Your couch?” He leans in, and you felt a deep crimson blush burning at your cheeks under his flirty stare. “Not very comfortable.” 
“Maybe you wouldn’t have to sleep on the couch.” You say, and you could feel your breath hitching at the idea. Logan smiled, but it wasn’t his usual sweet smile he gave you. This was something darker and more…lustful, that you were beginning to see more often when you two talked. Lately, all your conversations turn to something flirty, indiciating the rising tensions between you. 
He opened his mouth to say something, but Rose interrupted.
“Alright! Here you go, me and Adam got refills for you guys.” She says, as her- and Adam, who was the leather daddy you seen her makeout with the night Logan came home. Apparently he’d made enough of an impression on her to keep him around. You and Logan separated, occurring to both of you just how close you’ve gotten in the booth. He never removed his arm from your shoulders though, his hand gently squeezing the shoulder it was resting on, as you gave him a side glance, noticing a hint of pink on his ears. 
Things were very unspoken between you.
The way your relationship has developed since he returned was something you thought you would only dream of. 
You got to see more of that playful, boyish charm Logan had that you saw hints of in Vietnam. The charm that made you always crave to see more. Not that you couldn’t love his broody self as well. Each had their own perks that made you smile, where you couldn’t help but think ‘he’s so cute.’ The way he’d tease you, not in a mean way, more loving as he pokes fun at things such as your outfits, though you’d see the sliver of desire come across his eyes when you come in with those high-waisted jeans and low cut top, highlighting your figure for him in ways he didn’t get to see with your army scrubs. You watched him open up to the world. He’d gotten a great job at the local lumber mill, and even fixed his cabin up a bit, considering it was left empty for years while he was gone. He decorated, got new furniture and everything. Rose implied it was to impress you but you think he was simply just trying to…Make a home for himself after being gone for so long. 
He was taking up hobbies like boxing, which you certainly enjoyed watching, as you’d go to the gym with him occasionally in attempts to committing to your own workout (news flash, you aren’t very successful). You weren’t exactly a fan of the fighting, you didn’t like seeing Logan getting punched, but lord the intense concentration on his face, how his brows crease as he scowls at his opponent, the way sweat covered his body head to toe after brawling for an hour. You may not have understood the appeal of fighting each other. A male thing, it must be. You watched the boys in Vietnam do the same thing, practicing boxing and wrestling and all, although that was probably more practice than a hobby.. You did understand the appeal of observing. At least, observing him. 
You watched Logan as he quickly dodged and punched his opponent, effectively knocking him back. A few more swings and it was a knock out. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, shaking your head as you still didn’t understand the whole appeal. Male ego? Still, there was a certain…attraction to seeing how powerful he really can be. You knew that he was actually holding back when he boxes. If he applied his real physical strength- the mutant aspect to his strength, the other side would be down in seconds. Instead, Logan used boxing as a way to focus on his own movements, teaching him to be quick on his feet and defensive.
Logan was watching you as you were distracted with your gym bag, taking a heavy drink of water from his bottle, he took in your outfit, the way it hugged your body and curves, you had worn a workout outfit before, shorts and tank top and it was driving him wild as he kept an eye on you while you were running on the treadmill. Seems like no matter what you do, or wear, you always drive him crazy.. Grabbing a towel, he patted his forehead and hands dry, as he walked to the otherside of the ring where you were, perched on a bench. He nodded to his opponent, a coworker from work, before climbing over the ropes and hopping to the ground. You always waited for him to finish up when you went to the gyn with him, and the both of you would go to lunch together after. 
“Enjoy the show?” He grinned. You rolled your eyes. 
“Enjoy the senseless punching each other? Totally.” You scoffed, but it was merely teasing. You were glad to see him enjoying himself. You stood up from the bench, going to grab your bag, but he picked it up for you instead, stepping close to grab it, his chest bumping your shoulder and you turned to look at him. Your eyes met and you felt that familiar electricity run between you both.
He looked down at you and the look he gave you felt like he wanted to eat you alive. It led to a warm feeling that sunk low in your belly. You noticed Logans nostrils flared and his eyes darkened. 
“You sure you didn’t enjoy that sweetheart?” He says in a low voice, “Watching me?” 
He lowered his head down towards you, and you felt like your heart was in your throat. You saw his eyes flick down to your lips. You swallowed but before you could say anything-
“Hey Logan, good job today man-” 
Logans coworker and sparing opponent came up behind him, smacking him on the back and starting conversation, forcing Logan to step away from you, the heat of the moment evaporating. Although you saw him glance at your while his friend talked, and there seemed to be the lingering look of desire, excepting softer. Yearning. 
You knew though it wasn’t always happy for Logan though. You knew of the nightmares he’d have, the fits of panic. There was things he didn’t tell you. You didn’t ask. You knew if and when he’s ready to talk, he will. 
You found yourself happy with Logan, the way things are. You had felt such need for him for so long, and now that he was here- you surely thought you’d be desperate for his love and attention. Simply though, you enjoyed the time with him. Things didn’t feel…rushed. Maybe it was because in Vietnam, you constantly wondered if you would wake up to an attack, or a bomb, or something. You savored the small joys, like a warm Coke, or music on the radio, or just being able to laugh with Logan. Now though you’re able to enjoy those not just because you don’t have to worry about threats on your life, but because now you know that you and Logan had the rest of your lives to understand each other, for something to work out on it’s own time. It had be a couple years since he came back, and you both moved towards something steadily. 
1975, Alberta, Canada
You were working your shift at the hospital. The hospital had just built a new wing- an emergency center, and you were one the lucky nurses to get transferred over. Apparently your history of being in Vietnam made them think you’d be a wonderful addition to an emergency wing where being quick on your feet, and attention to detail was important. 
Of course they were right but you would have liked to had a choice in the matter. 
Especially since they decided you were to be the charge nurse as well. Without asking. 
Now you were bombarded with all sorts of new duties. Stuff that you didn’t even know existed in doing. Honestly, you believed that this was just the Chief of Staffs way of dumping stuff he didn’t want to deal with on you. You had medical forms to fill out, request forms to put in, and patients to worry about-
Huh, that felt like deja vu….
You were out in the main lobby, acting as triage for now. They were quick in putting you in charge of nurses, supply and drug lists, and various other adminstrative work, yet not quick in hiring more nurses to help you out. Anytime you complained, your boss would remind you,
 “What an absolute honor it is for you to even have this job, with all the womens rights going on. Those ladies would kill to have a job like yours! I mean, i’m sure you wouldn’t be able to find a job THIS progressive at another hospital…” 
What a dick.
“Hey honey,” You heard Rose behind you, and you turned in your chair and gave her a sneering smile.
“Well hello-” You greet sarcastically. “Hows life on the 3rd floor?”
“Whew! Someones bitter.” Rose chuckled. “It’s great, actually. I get breaks, lunches, and all I gotta do is assist the doctors with no extra responsibilities. No uh, administration work, or lack of staffing, or y’know, dealing with someone who shoved something up their ass.” She bragged.
You scoffed. “You got it completely wrong. I’m very happy here. Mind you.” You rolled your eyes. 
“Yeah, you totally look happy.” Rose crosses her arms, an amused smile as she looked down at you in your seat. She looked up, and an even more amused look came across her face. “Although I think your day is about to get better.”
“What?” You blinked, before turning to see who she was talking about. 
You would be embarrassed by how fast you smiled and got up from your chair, but honestly you could’ve cared less. 
Logan had walked in, wearing those jeans you loved on him, a jacket resting over a flannel, and a white t-shirt. He does like his layers, but in snowy Canada- you needed it. He spotted you, and smiled as you both approached each other in the lobby- which was fairly empty, meeting in the middle. 
“What are you doing here?” you asked. 
“You going on lunch soon? Figured I take you out, since you’ve seem so stressed lately…” He smiles. 
“Oh-” Your shoulders slacked. “That’s sweet, my lunch was an hour ago though…” You pursed your lips together, “Sorry.”
“Oh, well, how about a break then? I’ll…get you a candy bar or something.” He says, a small shrug of his shoulders, his smile fading into something more genuine and close. You perked up.
“Yeah, that actually sounds good, I can take a break. Wait for me outside, I’ll be right back.” You hold your hand up, turning to go back to your desk and say goodbye to Rose. She was watching you guys in amusement as you walked back to her, grabbing your jacket off the back of your chair, and your pager off your desk, and shooting her a Don’t you dare say anything look. If you thought she was riding on you hard before Logan came back, she got ten times worse. She says the tension between you two was practically unbearable. You have no idea what she’s talking about.  She gave you a knowing smile and you rolled your eyes, turning around and pulling your jacket on as you walked back towards the entrance, letting another nurse know you were going on break and to page you if anything is needed. 
You met Logan outside, where he was currently banging on a vending machine with his hand. You smiled at the sight, this tall lumbering man, scowling at the machine. 
“Yknow you need to give it money first?” You called out to him, and he lifted his head and smirked. 
“Ate my quarters.” He says. 
“Watch- and learn.” You wink. You reached into your jacket, pulling out a few quarters, sticking them into the coin slot, you pushed in the slot- but not fully, as you reached into the vending slot, able to pull it open just enough to grab the candy bar- and pull back the coin slot, your quarters still in place. You pulled the quarters out, and held up the candy bar in victory as you tilted your head, and beamed victoriously. 
Logan chuckled warmly. “Ain’t that stealing bub?”
You mock gasped, “Me? No way.” You say, holding your hand out, you gave him the quarters. 
“I was supposed to get you the candy bar yknow.”
“You did.” You say nonchalantly as you opened the wrapper, breaking off a piece to hand to him, before biting into the candy yourself, humming happily at the treat- much needed after the day you’ve been having. “Thank you-” You add as you chew. He shrugged, eating his piece of candy you shared with him. “So, anything exciting going on today?” You asked.
“No, just watched tv.” He says. “Started reading that book you suggested.”
Your eyes went wide and you smiled big, “Really? What you think?”
“Pretty good so far, I’m only on the first chapter though.” He shrugs. He glanced around, clearly thinking about something. “You wanna go to Reillys tonight?” 
“Reilly’s? Sure, I’m in.” You nodded, taking another bite out of your candy bar. “You want me to see if Rose and Adam-”
“I always actually thinking just me and you.” 
Your heart fluttered. 
“I mean, I know we do stuff all the time but…” He shrugged. “Just…Something, so we can talk.” 
“We’re talking right now…” You tease gently, rocking your body back and forth, but the blush on your cheeks told Logan you thoroughly agreed with the idea of going out, just the two of you. 
“Different kind of talking.” He says. “The kind where you wear something pretty, and I buy you a drink.” 
You couldn’t hide your giddiness at his words, letting out a small breath as your blush ran deeper, you looked up at him and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds nice…” You say tilting your head. 
He looked relieved for a moment, before returning to his usual demeanor, as he leaned over you, looking down at you like he was going to eat you alive. “So it’s a da-”
Your pager went off, and you groaned. “Sorry.”
“They can’t survive 5 minutes without you, huh?” He grumbles.
“Apparently not.” You turned your pager off. “I gotta go, but thanks for the candy bar Lo-” you hold up the empty wrapper, you reached for his hand, wrapping your hand around his, and squeezing it. He squeezed it back. “So tonight?”
“I’ll pick you up at 7. Sound good?”
“Great.” 
You began to let go, but he lifted your hand up, kissing the back of it as you watched him, his eyes making contact with yours, before finally he let go. You bit your lip, trying to hide your fluster, quickly turning away to go back into the hospital, as you felt butterflies go through your body. As you tried to go back to work, you couldn’t stop thinking about what you wanted to wear tonight. 
The day went by slow as hell- mainly because you couldn’t stop watching the clock. You got off at 4, giving you nearly 3 hours to get home and get ready to go out. 
The entire time you wondered if this was the start for you and Logan. After 5 years, becoming such close friends, sharing intimate moments, and shared connections in a similar past- you couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. Logan was the person for you. You denied that idea a long time, purely just a person who cared deeply for the people you found closest to you. Now though, you couldn’t deny the rapid flutter of your heart. You thought back of all the ‘close call’ moments you had with Logan. Moments where you nearly kissed, admitted your feelings- usually moments that got interrupted by something or other. You always took that to mean that maybe it just wasn’t your time yet, but you felt a charge with Logan today. The way he came all the way down to see you at work, to ask you out tonight when he could’ve just called you when you got off, because he knew your hours- surely he had been thinking about you as well.
When you got home, you tried your best to keep your cool. You didn’t tell Rose initially- but your nerves started to get to you. What if you were overthinking it? What if you dress up to nice and give off the wrong impression? Rose though, could read you- the way you were nervously pacing around the house as you anxiously cleaned real quick before you got ready. 
“What is going on with you?” She asks, following you to your room, as you pulled open your closet and started searching your outfits. 
“I- Nothing!” You say, but you start blushing, and cover you face. “Okay, I think Logan asked me out tonight, and he said something about wearing something pretty but I don’t know I uh…” You bit your lip. “I’m wondering if I took it wrong.”
“Okay, hold up- time out. Logan asked you out?!” Her voice pitched up as she stepped into the room.
“I don’t know! He said he wanted me and him to go out to Reillys- just me and him, to “talk”, and then when I pointed out we do that all the time and he said the kind of talking where I where something pretty and he buys me a drink.” You explain, all in one breath as anxiety wracked you. You didn’t know why you were so nervous, it was Logan, one of your best friends, you didn’t need to be nervous over him but you were.
Rose stared at you like you were insane. “Okay, first, breathe.” She says holding her hands up. “Second of all. It’s a date.”
You sigh as you took in a breath. “I don’t know what to wear it’s- been awhile.”
“Oh, I know.” Rose looked you up and down. “Could’ve had some practice while he was still gone but noooo.” 
“Rose-” You whined.
“Alright calm down- Lets start with whatchu got in that closet of yours.”
You and Rose spent the next hour trying to put together the perfect outfit. She convinced you to wear a black, satin slip dress, something that complimented your figure perfectly- while still remaining neutral enough- seeing as they were all the rage and often seen worn in bars anyway. She helped you with your hair and makeup, complimenting your features while keeping a more natural look. Rose herself was all about the wild makeup- flashy colors, paint as much as you could, but since this was a possible “first date”, she agreed something more natural and light was appropriate. You picked your colors that complimented your skin tone well, and did your hair in your favorite style. You thought you looked pretty nice- but nerves still crept at you.
You were no strange for looking nice, but you really haven’t been on a date in years. It wasn’t like you didn’t know how flirt- considering you and Logan been flirting for over a year since your reunion. You wondered if this was what it was between you and Logan, would things be different? How is this going to impact your relationship? 
Rose noticed your sudden lackluster demeanor, her hand going to your back. 
“He’s gonna love this.” She smiles warmly at you. “The man is TOTALLY obsessed with you already. This is gonna send him through the roof! Lookatchu!” she coos.
You giggled, shaking your head. “Thank you.”
“I’m just so glad to see my girl finally growing up.” Rose says, with fake emotion in her voice as she pretends to wipe a tear from her eye, it made you laugh more- helping you ease your nerves. 
You opened your mouth to retort her comment, but the landline started ringing. Wondering if it was Logan, you quickly went to answer it. 
“Hello?”
You heard a man asking for your name.
“This is she?” You respond, a little confused.
He said your name again. “It’s Frank.”
“Frank?- Frank Jones?” You say in surprise, as the doctor, a man you considered your mentor years ago from Vietnam, came to your picture. “Wow, it’s been awhile, how are you?”
“Uh..Fine. Listen, you okay?” 
“Yeah…” You say slowly. “Why?”
“Nothing, nothing. Just checking on you.” He says. “Did you ever end up going to med school?” 
“Well, no I just hadn’t really-”
“That’s fine. Listen, be careful, okay?” 
“Frank, what are you-?”
“I know you and Logan Howlett are friends.” His voice suddenly toward low, and warning.
You blinked, as you looked at the phone in confusion. Your brows creased, as you felt something weird turn in your stomach. 
“You…Know Logan?”
“I can’t stay on long. I’m just calling to check on you. You need to be careful, especially around Howlett. Don’t get involved in anything.”
Before you could respond, the line went dead. You stared at the phone as you heard the beeps, turn into a flat line, before you hung up the landline. Rose looked at you in questioning. 
“That was…weird.” You muttered. 
“Who was that?” 
“A doctor I worked under in Vietnam.” You look at her. “He was really cryptic though, and he knew me and Logan were friends, I don’t think I ever told him about Logan. He told me I needed to be careful.” 
Rose raised a brow, then crossed her arms. “Okay, I was excited, now I’m scared.” She says. “Why would this guy conveniently call you when you’re about to go on a date with him?”
You shrugged, chewing on your lip. Since Logan had come back, you knew he was carrying something, a weight on his shoulders. He never told you what though.  All you knew was him being apart of a operative CIA team and he left it. Anytime you two talked about Vietnam, or anything regarding it- he’d get this haunted look on his face, like he was going to be sick. So, you never forced him to talk about it. Sometimes it would just come up, it being an impactful part of your life- something you still try to find meaning in today, understand what it did to you and your future. There was a time you never wanted to think about it, but then there’s times it’s all you wanted to think about. Logan though, seemed to never want to go back to it. Whatever he’s done, whatever he’s seen, it was enough for him to want to forget. 
You wondered if Frank Jones knew something about it. Was it bad enough that he had to warn you? You never felt unsafe with Logan. He has been nothing but respectful and safe- not just to you, but the people around you. Rose has stated multiple times that just having Logan nearby has made her feel more comfortable as well. 
“Are you okay?” Rose asked, putting a hand on your shoulder, you looked at her, and nodded.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll..talk to Logan about it later. Or maybe try to find Franks number, call him back or something tomorrow.” You say. She nods.
“Maybe I should go with you…” She says. You saw the worry on her face. Rose was never the type to be fearful or shy away from anything. You smiled.
“It’s fine.” You say. “I’m just going to enjoy the evening, right?” 
Rose forced a smile, but you could tell she now seemed hesitant to let you go off alone. Before you could say anything else, you both heard knocking your door. 
“That’s probably him-” You say, as you attempt to shrug off the weirdness of that phone call. You went down stairs, immediately stopping at a mirror to check your hair and makeup- Rose following you, before you went to the front door and opened it. 
You were a bit taken away by how nicely dressed Logan was. So, this is a date
He was wearing a clean white button up dress shirt, tucked into dark blue jeans, and his typical leather jacket over the shirt. His hair was slicked back, and he looked a mixture of nervous- and excited to see you. You noticed one arm behind his back.
Any worries you had originally went to the back of your head as you took in his handsome figure. It was that you never seen Logan dressed nice- but he was dressing nice for you.
Logan seemed to have the same reaction to you, his eyes trailing over your body, and you see his jaw tense up. 
“You…You look beautiful.” He says softly. A deep blush came across your cheeks, and you took a deep breath to regain your composure. 
“Thank you,” you say politely. “You don’t look so bad yourself?” You smiled, giving him a knowing look. He chuckled, looking down at himself, almost as if he was embarrassed.
“I got you these.” He says, dropping his arm from behind him, and pulling out a bouquet of flowers. “I…Thought you’d like em.” 
They were Peonies- your favorite flower. You remembered months ago walking past the local flower shop with him, and you had gushed over how beautiful they were. Honestly, they made you think of him- the way they start as all closed, before slowly opening up as they become exposed to warmth, the sun, and water. It's what you think of Logan, the way he was always closed up in himself, only to finally begin to open up, as you watched him blossom from the quiet and reserved soldier, to a man finally accepting a life full of joy and possibly…love.
You were surprised, he remembered, and even went out of his way to bring you a bouquet. 
“Lo- they’re-” You laughed softly taking them. “They’re beautiful! Thank you!” He nodded in acknowledgement, you turned back to the house, “Let me put them in some water and we can go-”
“Here girly, I got them, you go on.” Rose came to the rescue, grabbing the bouquet. “Hi Logan.”
“Hey Rose,” Logan nodded politely to her, sticking his hands in his pockets casually. “How are you?”
“Fine.” She smiles. “Go on you two, go on your date.” She urges. Still blushing- a warm heat spread across your face, you turned back to Logan. “I won’t wait up!-” You heard Rose call out as you shut the door behind you. He smirked, taking his hand out of his pocket, and reaching for yours.
“Ready?”
When you arrived at the bar, you both agreed for opting to the small table towards the back, allowing you a little privacy in your conversations in the bar, which was packed as usual on a Saturday night. Logan was a complete gentleman, pulling your chair out for you and pushing it in as you sat. 
“What would you like to drink?” He asks, 
You gave him your order, and he left to go up to the counter to get them. You sat at your table and waited, you took in the atmosphere, adjusting your dress a few times and playing with your hair. Your eyes turned to the counter, where you saw Logan standing, palms pressed to the counter- clearly waiting for your drinks, but something you noticed.
His head was turned, talking to someone. A lady who looked to be around your age, with dark hair that went past her shoulders. She was absolutely beautiful, and she was looking at Logan in a way that twisted your stomach. 
It was no secret that Logan turned heads, and before it never really go to you- perhaps because you knew you were just friends at the time, that you didn’t have a right to be jealous (although it had struck your mind). Logan had never entertained anyone though, and no one has ever approached Logan while you guys were out together- although you definitely seen the stares. You honestly had never considered other women flirting with him- or him flirting with other women, because you yourself had not flirted with anyone- except him.
Maybe this time it was because you two were actually moving forward. Although you couldn’t say that with certainty. You just did not like the eyes she was making towards Logan. You couldn’t see his face, and his body language was fairly neutral, but you felt a small irritation in the fact that he was even talking to her. 
Get a grip, it’s a bar, people talk.
You saw her laugh, flipping her hair a bit, and her hand went to his forearm
Oh for gods sake. 
The bartender brought the drinks, and he grabbed them, a polite nod to her before turning back to you. You felt a small relief that he wasn’t sticking around to talk to her- whoever she was. 
“Here you go.” He handed you your drink, then moved to sit next to you. You smiled up at him, before turning to sip on the straw, before glancing at him again.
“Who was that girl you were talking to?”
Real smooth.
“Hm?” He looked up at you as he took a drink from his whiskey, he leaned back in his chair. “Oh, I don’t know. Some new person in town.” 
You forced a smile and nodded, and Logan seemed to sense your slight tension- a noticeable change when just a few moments ago you were happy and joking around. He leaned forward towards the table again, and he grabbed your hand, holding it on the table as he looked at you.
“So, how was the rest of your day?” 
You relaxed at his warm tone, the way he started a new conversation. You answered his question, and you both fell into a deep conversation- the way you normally do. Not just about your days, but you would turn towards anything. Recently, it was the politics happening in the States, where mutants were being treated as if they were some sort of criminals. Some folks in government were trying to bring back the bill over mutant regulation, the same bill that had been shot down over a year ago. It bothered you- and worried you greatly that mutants were still getting flack in a time of great social change. Canada hadn’t seemed to address any issue of mutants, possibly because there’s no actual “problem” to address, and maybe it made you a little more thankful that you moved to this country. Something in you though, your heart tugged at the thought of those people getting mistreated. 
Logan though, always knew the right thing to say- to put your mind at ease. 
During the night, Logan complimented you, not just your physical looks, but the type of person you were. He always had a hand on you, usually holding your hand, but sometimes he’d reach out- a soft smile on his face as he’d cup your cheek. His thumb rubbing softly against your skin, making your eyes want to flutter shut. 
There was a new energy charging between you, as you both began to feel open to something newer between you, something more romantic. 
You never noticed the dark haired woman again, even as she sat at the bar counter- staring and watching you both continue on your night.
After, you and Logan strolled through the town, admiring the night life and people watching. Logan, normally keeping an arm around your shoulder, had one around your waist, keeping you close to him. You laughed, and you flirted, you teased each other. You felt warmth in you, the way he kept you so close- almost protectively. 
It was getting late, and you both knew that it was getting close to the end of the night, but there was something burning in you. The phone call from earlier had creeped its way back into your head. You didn’t want to ruin the mood, especially since Logan had dropped his arm from your waist, to grab your hand. You needed to ask though, because you knew if you didn’t and you never found out what it was about it’ll probably come back and haunt you later.
“Hey, Lo?” 
“Hm?” 
You stopped, and he stopped with you. You were standing on an empty street, one of the smaller neighborhoods of the town, not too far from yours. It was quiet, peaceful, one of the times you could really appreciate moving to this small town- all because of him. You purse your lips together, unsure how to tell him what happened. 
“Something wrong bub?” He asked, looking at your concerned face. He brought a hand to your chin, examining you as if he was trying to read your mind. 
“Something weird happened, before you came to pick me up.” You begin. “I got a phone call from an old colleague, someone who was in Vietnam. Doctor Frank Jones. Do you know him?”
Logans brows creased, and shook his head. “Not familiar with any doctors. Just you.” He smiled. You nodded, eyes darting away from him, feeling regretful now that you even brought it up. 
“Well he knew you.” You say. “Or…I don’t know maybe he doesn’t…” 
His smile dropped and he stepped closer, dropping his hand from your chin. “What did he say?” 
“He said he knew that we were hanging out, together I guess. He…Told me to be careful. Around you. Then he hung up.” 
Logan frowned, his brows creasing together. You saw his jaw tense up, as he looked up from you, looking around the empty neighborhood. 
“Do you know why he would say that?” You asked softly. Logan looked back at you.
For a moment, he looked angry his lips pulled tight as his eyes narrowed- but then his expression softened, and he looked just plain upset. “I….” He swallowed. “I’m not fully sure. I suppose I can guess though.” 
“You can..guess?” You asked. 
“Look…I…If he was in Vietnam then maybe he knew about me. About the team I was apart of.” He says. “I didn’t want to tell you this. I…I didn’t want you to look at me differently. To be scared of me.” 
“Lo.” You put a hand on his chest. “I could never be scared of you. You being secretive from me though…That scares me.” 
He brought his hand to yours, squeezing it gently, before pulling it away. “After you left, me and Victor got into some trouble. He went after some girl in one of those villages. He got stopped by the commanding officer- not the one you knew, we had a new guy come in. Victor killed him.”
You gasped. “What- are you serious?” 
“It gets worse.” He says. Guilt flashed across his face. “I…Tried to defend him. He was my brother, the only family I got. We’d been serving together for years and I just- thought it’s what I needed to do but… They sentenced us with a death squad. Well, you can guess what happened.” 
You stared at Logan with wide eyes, unbelieving of what he was telling you. He never said anything once, about any of this happening in the letters you communicated back and forth and that…hurt you more than anything. You knew Victor was a bit of a wild card, the man hit on you more times than you care to remember- Logan usually coming to your rescue for that. For him to do something to hurt someone innocent- and then to kill a commanding officer? You didn’t know what to think, as you looked back up at Logan. 
He was clearly struggling as he talked about this. Now you knew why he never wanted to talk about it, why he went silent- with the look in his eyes like he was seeing ghosts. It wasn’t just Vietnam that happened, but that. He opened his mouth, taking in a breath as he spoke his next sentence.
“Obviously it means that they figured out we were mutants, and couldn’t die.” He continues. “We got approached by this man, some kind scientist in the military. He was working on this project- and figured that me and Victor were perfect. He saw our strength, our- mutation. Thought it would be helpful.”
“The operative team you were on.” You say. He nodded. 
“Team X. At first it was just stuff around Vietnam, then we branched out to other countries. Just classified missions, breaking into communist parties, getting intel- sometimes we’d take out a few bad guys but then it just got worse and worse and…The team was becoming brutal. The things they were doing. I couldn’t do it.”  
You reached for his hand, and he looked down at where you were holding him. Then he looked back up at you.
“I thought maybe I was doing something good.” He says quietly. “Helping the country, ending wars. I hadn’t known anything other than violence until you showed up. You made me want to be better and…I just became worse.” 
“Lo-” You stepped closer. “No- No, it’s….” You searched for your words. “You’re not a bad man Lo. You just…Got dealt bad cards. You left, you knew these things were wrong. That’s important. You keep going everyday trying to be better and do better- I know you do, I see it.” 
“That doctor, whoever called you. I didn’t know him. He was right though. You should be careful.” He says gently. “I wondered if I should have even come back when I left the team. I knew you were here, that you had been waiting for me and I didn’t want to disappoint you.” 
“I’m not scared of you Lo.” You say softly. “I know you would never hurt me.” 
“I came back for you.” He says softly. You looked into his eyes, and he looked away, shame on his face- as you brought your hand up to cup his cheek. You leaned forward, softly pressing your lips against his. You gave him room to pull away, but he returned the kiss back. 
Despite everything he just told you, you couldn’t bring yourself to be angry- not at him for not telling you anything, and not for the things he told you he committed. You knew it was something he had been clearly carrying around, a deep guilt he held inside himself- guilt being an emotion that you knew yourself all too well, a feeling that any soldier feels when they come home and you weren’t even a soldier. Guilt may have been his cross to bear, even if his intentions were good, honorable even- and it led to bad things. You knew that it was going to take time, for him to work through this and while you couldn’t heal him or fix him, you could support him- hold his hand and push him to keep going. It was just yet another casualty of war, a man, led to believe he was doing the right thing- only to realize it was all the wrong thing after all. 
You had spent years wondering about your own actions, you wanted to help people, that’s why you signed up. Though you wondered; did you just become another number, another reason for the fighting to keep going? Did your participation support the violence when all you wanted to do was stop it?
There was only thing you knew. It was all in the past. 
The war had been over for 2 years. 
It was time to move on. You didn’t know how you deal with the moral dilemma of knowing the things you done, how do you make up for it? 
You did know that you were glad that you and Logan both made it. Standing there tonight. Perhaps it wasn’t the most romantic conversation- but as Logan pressed his lips to yours, eager and almost demanding, his hands grabbing your hips and pushing you against him- you could feel it. The relief he felt as if he just admitted his sins to his god. You knew Logan Howlett was a good man, that all he wanted to be was a good man. 
Maybe that’s all that was important in the end. 
You parted from you kiss, lost for words- and your breath, and he leaned his forehead against yours. 
“I’m sorry.” He says, his grip on your hips tight, as if he was afraid to let go.
“You should be.” You say. “That kiss was overdue.” He let out a small laugh, knowing that it’s not what he meant- but he could be sorry for that too. You brought your hands up to cup his face, your fingers softly scratching at his beard, making his eyes flutter shut. “We’ll work through this. Okay?” You say softly. “You don’t have to bear this alone anymore.” 
“I don’t deserve you.” He mutters softly.  
“On the contrary, I been waiting for this for awhile. You owe me.” 
He smirked. “That so?”
“Mhm.” 
“I’ll make it up to you.” He says softly, pulling you closer against him. You wanted to kiss him again, but you could tell what he really needed, was a hug. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning into him- hugging him tightly, and he responded with the same, burying his face into your neck. 
You’ll be alright.
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aromanticasterisms · 6 months ago
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this whole epilogue is just a little treat for me oh my god. "familiar faces arrive in simulanka" does not even begin to cover it
#personal stuff#thorn plays genshin#literally gasped aloud seeing kaeya and jean#the besties........ hi.... i missed you guys so much. i'll cry#why'd the eng add that line in for kaeya. sounds like he just says ''thank you [?] miss''. why do they make him flirty he's just being nice#alice inviting the knights to simulanka once everything has calmed down... kaeya making jean take a break... what if i cry#kaeya i'm sorry . if it were up to me i never would have let you drink literal magic ink#COLLEI'S HERE TOO YIPPEE#we need to stop sneaking up on her. i feel bad whenever she gets scared :(#AWWW. she sounds happy to hear from him and wants to go say hello................... growth from her voicelines omg#AND MONA'S HERE TOO. WOOO#so glad we get to see her with the barbeloth stuff#i love when they use her idle animation in the middle of conversations it's neat :] also it using klee's constellation...#FISCHL TOO???? HII.#wanderer seeing fischl who absolutely does not remember him: oh god#ALBEDO AND KLEEEE. OH MY GOD.#klee saying mini durin is her big brother wAUUUGH.#alice just inviting her whole extended family [mondstadt + collei] is so so so so sweet. oh my god#HARD LEFT TURN?? HELLO??#albedo popping up to be like yeah that prophecy that durin will come back to life is true i've been studying it.#HELLO?????#REALLY interesting stuff. cannot believe they stuck this in a limited time event. Again#not sure if durin really will be the one coming back to life?they'd have to remodel all of dragonspine if so. or get him a new body#but yeah it just says ''rhinedottir's child'' will come back to life that could be any one of her creations right?#anyway we didn't get a fontaine event with albedo visiting elynas but this is a suitable substitute. i liked it a lot
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celtrist · 3 months ago
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Next thing you'll say is he doesn't have a tail
ref to this pic
EDIT: Just to keep things clear I didn't really think about bringing it up but not everyone's gonna click to see the first picture and might be confused. Alastor was stated to know only a little bit of broken French, the reasoning due to being from New Orleans. Speaking standard French is very much not a thing in New Orleans, so he would logically only know French-Creole. This is very different from the standard French language and a large misconception that people from New Orleans speak regular French. So yes, he does speak some French, just not as well as people make him nor would it, in theory, be the regular French that everyone makes him speak [but I wouldn't put it past the writers to not do that research but maybe I have too little faith in them]. I'm not from New Orleans, I visited it once so it's not like I'm an expert. But I HAVE looked into it and just bothering with one Google search will tell you it's not common and you'll even have a special term called "Louisiana French" pop up. With that all said, these were statements made on years past streams and could've been changed in the official series. However, as of right now, the official statement is that he speaks only a little broken French that should technically be French-Creole if they're going by and that he's from New Orleans to know that language. And again, I don't have a lot of faith in writers to do the research into it being Louisiana French rather than regular French, but now I'm rambling lol This is just a bit of context for this comic so people who were curious can understand it a bit more. And it's totally possible I got something wrong, so feel free to point it out when I do. I just like to dig into the nooks and crannies of information for things :3 2nd EDIT: Just for any future reblogs, I did get somethings incorrect in the above (not surprising), so here's some of the corrections I got:
@mangotangerine: "A tiny nitpick - it would likely be Louisiana Creole, which is one of the French-based Creole languages (Haitian Creole is prob the most well known as it has about 10-12 million speakers vs Louisiana Creole which has around 10,000 due to multiple factors but especially legislation in early 1920s outlawing it). Louisiana French is an umbrella term for the various French dialects/etc in the region (e.g., the dialect Cajun French)." (We actually had a whole conversation in the comments of this post and highly suggest looking down there in case you're interested in learning more!)
@alyssumflowers: "I am from New Orleans and a little bit of a language nerd. You're confusing some things here. Cajun French is a dialect of French. My great grandmother spoke it fluently, my grandfather in pieces.
Louisiana Creole is another language entirely. The word "creole" means mixed and a creole language is basically a mixture of two or more languages. Sort of, it's a linguistics thing. Anyways. Louisiana Creole has next to no speakers left and I've had a hard time trying to find somewhere or someone to learn it from because I really want to." (Always great to hear from someone who has more insider knowledge on the subject! So I wanted to give this it's share due as well, hope you can fine somewhere to learn it! /ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹♡ )
Thank you for the comments! My previous statement still stands about Al probably not speaking normal French, but I wanted these corrections still known and pointed out :3
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afterglowsainz · 9 months ago
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Hey can I get a jealous Jude x female reader. Nothing too toxic lol l, it’s just some guys hitting y/n up on social media and somehow Jude sees the DMs and gets a little jealous. Then his petty self goes and posts a picture of him and his girlfriend on her ig or something petty like responds back with a “she’s busy bro”. Thanks 🫶🏻
jealousy | jude bellingham
obsessed with this concept already !!
summary: while you're getting ready to go out on a date with your boyfriend, he accidentally sees some dms he doesn't like and decides to do something about it
warnings: none
word count: 738
a/n: boring title booo i know i know i couldn't think of anything better :( i do hope you like the one shot tho it was fun to write about jealous jude <3
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you were getting ready to go out on a date with jude while he was laying on your bed waiting for you. his phone was charging somewhere in the living room so you gave him yours to play a game so he doesn’t get bored. you were putting on your makeup while singing along to your playlist while he was building some villages or whatever it was that they do on clash royale. however, jude got distracted when an instagram dm pop up at the top of your phone, it was from this formula 1 driver that he knew was always liking your pictures, he didn’t knew he was dming you as well. he thought about opening the message, but he didn’t want to invade your privacy like that, so he simply looked at you.
“someone dm you.” he says.
his voice took you out of your little world and you place your gaze on him thought the mirror you were applying your makeup on.
“who?”
“lando norris.” he reads the name like he didn’t knew already.
“what does it say?” you hide a laugh and continue with your makeup routine.
jude opens the message and reads it out loud. it was obvious he was hitting on you by replying to a story you had posted earlier that day when you went to brunch with your friends and you felt cute.
“are you gonna answer?” he asks again, hints of jealousy on voice.
“not really, no.” you answer and go back to singing along and applying mascara on.
when jude goes back to the screen on your phone his thumb accidentally swipes left and your whole inbox is completely exposed to him. he didn’t meant to do that, but it really was an accident and he couldn’t help but see now that it was there, only he wished he didn’t have.
some of your dms were just conversations with your friends, but a lot of them were just guys replying to your stories and hitting on you, which made him even more jealous than before. you never replied to them, going as far as deleting some of the messages you received, but since you hadn’t checked your instagram since that afternoon a lot of dms from different guys complimenting you on your story were there for jude to find.
he frowns at the phone and takes a look at you, completely oblivious while doing your eyeliner. his eyes go back to the screen and he starts looking up some pictures that you took the week before of you two.
“do you mind if i post one of those pictures you took of us last week?” he asks out of nowhere. “so i can repost it on my story.” he clarifies.
you frown a bit confused because this is the first time he has asked you something like this, but after him seeing the other guy’s dm and feeling a bit jealous you connected the dots and smile amused.
“sure.” you say.
he nods and went to post a story with the two of you looking definitely like the couple you were. he spend a few seconds thinking about a good caption, landing on a simple “my boyfriend❤️”, very straight to the point. he also tagged himself big enough for everyone to see and posted the picture, a satisfied smile on his face.
when you were done with your makeup and ready to go, you approached him and sat on his lap, your phone still in his hand.
“let me see the picture.” you smiled. he shows you the story and you rolled your eyes, a bit amused at his possessiveness. “was that really necessary?” you point at the text and he just shrugs.
“i just feel like there’s a lot of people that don't know we’re together, you know? just wanna put it out there.” you nod, fighting the smile on your face and putting your arms around him.
“is that so?” you tease him, getting closer to him if that was even possible.
“yeah, lots of guys on your dms.” he confess. “they liked your selfie earlier.”
“hmm.” you answer. “i wouldn’t know about that, i only like one guy.” a treacherous smile takes over his lips and you take the opportunity to kiss him. “wanna go? we’ll be late to dinner.”
jude just nods and gets out of bed, never dropping your hand for a second.
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nightingale-prompts · 1 month ago
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Danny lives in a horror horror movie-part 2
Part 1
Once again this is inspired by surrealist horror books and podcasts. This is mainly inspired by Welcome to Nightvale more directly with other influences as well.
The people of Amity Park are strange. The entire town was off.
Wes, the teenager that worked late at the gas station was not the talkative sort but he gave quite the few clues.
"You aren't from here aren't you?" He said cleaning the black blood off his face.
"Uh, no. We are hero sent to investigate-" Superman tried to explain but Wes began laughing.
"Heros?! Haha! That's a new one. Alright, nutcases you got me." Wes laughed "New people are great. I only get locals these days."
"Wait, so no one outside the town comes here?" Batman asked, still trying to keep this investigation on track.
Wes went silent.
"No one comes here. This gas station is on the edge of town." He picked up his book again.
"If no one comes to this town why is there a gas station built just outside the city limits?" Batman asked this time more firmly.
"Let me specify. People tend to come here once. People come into town every once in a while and they stay. They don't leave. No one leaves." Wes didn't sound like he was making a threat just saying what he believed.
"That's not normal. Why would that happen?" Batman asked.
Wes sighed deeply as if he had this conversation time and time again.
"People don't just end up here. Usually, the ones that come here are those that want to leave their old life behind. They don't look for this place they just end up here. Sometimes they get freaked out but they settle like the rest of us and just make their place here." He explained but he really didn't feel like it.
When another question popped up Wes just turned his radio to a station and turned it all the way up.
"Good Evening citizens of Amity Park. It is another beautiful night here in our quiet little town. Here at the local public broadcast station, we wish you a great day and we hope that you remembered to not leave your shoes outside your door. Amanda Sawyer forgot last Saturday and hasn't been seen since. Please remember or end up like poor Amanda. This was a warning from the town's public health committee." A young but not too young voice said over the radio. "You know that is the mark of a caring local government. Sure they spend so much on bloodstone alters and bi-yearly mandatory festivals but we all know it's for our health and happiness. Now moving on to current events: A group of strangely dressed visitors are in our town. They are at the Cabbymart Gas Station at the end of town. They are asking Wes a lot of questions and Wes as always is in a bad mood. Hang in there Wes we all have those days. Retail am I right? We'll check in later with an update as this story evolves. Remember to welcome our visitors when you see them. Until then here is the-."
The broadcast was switched off as Wes turned to another station.
"Who was that? What was that actually?!" Flash asked hysterically.
"That's just Danny. He works at the radio station now." Wes grunted still not in the mood.
"Okay but how did he know we were here? We just got here and we haven't even gone into town."
"He just knows. I don't even get what you're asking! Why wouldn't he know, he reports the news?! Look can you guys just buy something or leave?" Wes said exasperated.
The heroes had little chance of getting more answers out of the teen so they went into town. Despite it being past midnight now the people of Amity Park were up and about. Watering their gardens and talking in front of illuminated cafés. They all looked carefree and jovial. Even a woman greeted them like the sight of people dressed in capes and spandex was normal.
But things here seemed out of place. Things just didn't match. Bloodstains made patterns into the sidewalk like children's sidewalk chalk.
The buzz if the radio station broadcast could be heard from window sills.
"We interrupt this broadcast for our sponsor Subway. Subway: Eat your cold dead heart out. Now with that out of the way an update on the revolutionary ghost situation. The mayor had formally declared that he would be kept at the museum where he could parade about however he liked. I'm sure the children of the town will adore his charming way of shooting at nothing and spending an hour to reload. There is also an update on the amusement park now that Mr.Stiches caretaker role has been filled by my friend Sam we can expect the horror house can finally reopen for the season. Buy tickets now. And lastly the update on the stangers in town. The brightly colored fellows are still meandering around town. I wonder what they're thinking. Probably things like: Where are these bloodstains from? What are we doing here? And most importantly. Will I ever see my family again? All good questions."
Amity Park was a strange place. But the people liked it that way. They never blinked twice at the horrid and horrific thanks that happened. Perhaps they were monsters in their own right but unlike the jaded masses of Gotham, they were downright jovial about it. In their world, there weren't demonic entities or ancient gods. What they experienced were things, undefined by mortals. Reality blurred with something else, somewhere else. So they adapted.
It was when the heros was a group of children attacked this Thing with long knurled limp and lips like puss-filled sacs under the watchful eyes of parents did they understand. They were the monsters here.
"Another win for Girl Scout Troop 667 in their hunt. Their parents must be so proud. It brings me back to 4th grade when all the children were kidnapped and brought to the library by the monstrosities we call librarians for the summer reading program. Had it not been for Valerie and her high reading comprehension score and display of berserker rage tactics we would have probably all died. I still remember as she stood over the body of the fallen librarian with the bloodied book Hannibal held aloft. She was an inspiration to us all and the reason we fled to the woods to train under her as her children's militia. Books and knives in hand we well-read warriors set out to keep our town safe. Remember kids of Amity Park, we look to heroes like Valerie and the clawed librarian's hand that hangs around her neck as a symbol of pride. Don't forget to return your library book. The librarians are still alive and while the most feral ones have been disposed of there still is a small population of them left in order to preserve the local food chain and they can smell late returns."
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cherry-leclerc · 8 months ago
Text
star-crossed ☆ mv1
genre: angst, fluff, humor, lots of back and forth, smut
word count: 9.1k
Fixated, you and Max struggle to stay away from one another. All the while, everyone tries to convince you that it won't ever work out.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+...penetrative sex, fingering
inspired by this !
cherry here!...as a wise person once told me: footnotes = crumbs. hope that helps!! enjoy :)
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The table was long, practically going for miles, but not really—it was just your closest friends. They all converse with one another, talking about the upcoming season, the upcoming season, and oh, what’s that? The upcoming season. And you’ve had enough of it, he can tell, so he gently rubs his thumb over your hand, easing your nervous tick. 
White florals lay neatly on the wooden top, fairy lights hang up above your heads, and Frank Sinatra plays from your fiancé’s phone, connected to the Bluetooth. 
Pierre stands up firmly, clinking his glass with a spoon. When it doesn’t seem to get anyones attention, Alex lets out a loud whistle. Everyone’s heads turn. “Merde—finally. Well, first of all, welcome on behalf of the groom's best man!” Crickets. His smile drops. “I-Its me. I’m the best man.”
“More like Best Party Killer. Sit down,” Daniel yells, aiming a peony at his friend's head. 
The Frenchman swats it away, to which Kika glares as it hits her. He nervously chuckles, pecking her cheek, swiftly. “Comme je le disais…we’re here to celebrate two very important people. Can ya take a guess?”
“Why did you choose Pierre as your best man again?” you whisper to the twenty-six year old. He shrugs, hushing you once before his watercolor eyes flicker back to his friend. 
“Any more guesses?”
“Okay, thank you!” you yelp, standing up and motioning him down. “Thank you, Pierre, for saying a whole lot of nothing, really.”
The blue eyed boy silently pleads, hands pressed together in prayer. “Oui, oui, I’m done, I’m done.” A warm hand snakes to wrap around your wrist and you sigh, sitting back down onto his lap. He clears his throat. “I thought we could go around and…share some stories about the soon-to-be husband and wife. I’ll start.”
“Great,” Kika groans, massaging her temples. 
“September 4, 2022.”
-
Circuit Zandvoort—September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)
“You said it would be warm!”
Lissie squeals when you reach out to pinch her forearm. “I said slightly warm. More so cool.” A harsh glare. She winces. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”
Despite the evident goosebumps, you march your way over to the pen, awaiting your first interview. Lissie stands besides you, raising two thumbs up and a toothy grin. You got this! Your stomach churns as you fix your set up. She’s right, you’ve worked for this moment, day and night. You weren't going to mess up for any reas—
“Should I just come back later or…”
Blinking, your heart stops beating as your mouth runs completely dry. He looks around for his publicist who just sighs and starts tugging him away. 
And we’re here with Max Verstappen, Lissie hisses—assisists. Coughing loudly, you bring up the microphone to your lips. “Max Verstappen!” The RedBull driver turns back to face you, clearly puzzled. You cringe at your sudden outburst, but continue. “So nice to see you. Saw you had a magnificent drive.”
Blue eyes pierce basically through your soul. He smiles, shoulders relaxing, hands leaning against the barrier. “Yeah. We did have a lot of luck on our side today. Plenty.”
It wasn’t that hard to pick up from there, question after question being basically given to you, to which he answers with professional ease. His dimples even pop out with every punctuation, it makes your chest swell. You clear your throat, eyes flickering to your list that now narrows down to one last inquiry. 
“Everyone nowadays fears you, it seems like.” He laughs, rolling his eyes. “But I do have one question—how does it feel to be the villain in all of Formula One?”
His smile slips away. “Sorry?”
“Uh-oh,” Lissie mutters.
But you don’t catch onto it, his sudden defensive tone, his dark glare. Beaming like the sun on the earth, you nod. “Well you aren’t the most liked, per se. Often hated by others. Do you think your dominance has affected your relationship with the drivers on the grid?”
When you finally look up, you clearly notice his change in demeanor, and that makes you flinch. We should get going, his publicist squeaks, already pushing him away. Let’s not air that last question, thank you. 
Fiercely, you turn to face your friend. “I still had a minute left!”
“Why would you say that?” she screeches. “Why, why, why?”
You blink. “I’m lost. What did I do wrong?”
The brunette sighs, brown orbs analyzing the short clip. “You got on Max Verstappen’s bad side, that’s what.”
-
“Their relationship had started rather…rocky,” Pierre announces, swaying his hands back and forth for emphasis. “But don’t you worry! I. Fixed. Everything.”
-
“She really said that?” 
Max whips his head to Checo, then to Yuki, then to Pierre. Each wears a loopy smile. He scowls. “She’s new here, she must be—I’ve never seen her before. Who does she think she is?”
“A legend, that’s who,” the Frenchman retorts, almost high and mighty. 
Max takes a long sip of his energy drink before scoffing. “I don’t care if she’s royalty, I’m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.”
A few hours have now rolled by and you’ve finally realized—you messed up. Here you go, basically painting him out to be the bad guy, when really, he’s just a strong driver. No one thinks he’s a villain, you think he’s a villain. 
“You think he’s going to protest against me? Get me fired? Boycott? Hates me?”
Lissie giggles, tidying up the equipment from the last round. “No. No. No. Maybe?”
Groaning, you hit your forehead over and over again with your clipboard before a sharp accent makes you stop. “Hello.”
“Oh! Hi!”
His lips stretch, then steps closer to you. “I’m Pierre—”
“I know who you are,” you cut him off. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m—”
“New?”
Your cheeks burn up at his accuracy. “Yes?”
“I thought so,” he pronounced with a goofy grin. Annoyance builds up inside of you but hold back and bite your tongue. The Frenchman fixes his sunglasses that lay on the bridge of his nose. “So…I’m going to take the chance and say that what you asked wasn’t meant to hurt his feelings?”
You soften up quickly. “I hurt his feelings?”
A nose scrunch. “Let me backtrack; Max doesn’t have feelings, therefore there’s nothing to hurt, but he does hold killer grudges, so yeah.” He lifts the frames. “He doesn’t like you.”
“Lovely,” Lissie mumbles from her spot besides you. “Is there a way…we…can fix all this misunderstanding? Because that’s what this is! A misunderstanding!”
The Alpha Tauri driver clicks his tongue in deep thought. “There’s not much to do other than apologize. Explain yourselves, maybe? He’s very Old-Fashioned.”
“Okay, yes.” You scurry down the paddock. “I could do that! I could so do that.” 
“Other way!” he yells. Turning around, you see him pointing you down to the right. You giggle, nervously, and continue your sprint.
You catch him quite fast; his tall stature and blond hair are pretty easy to spot. “Hey—hi!” Gasping for air, you clutch onto your side. “H-hello. Again.”
His jaw ticks once, and in an eerie motion, a warm smile forms. You shudder. “Yes?”
“I just wanted to apologize about before. That was not the right thing to say, I am so sorry…please don’t demand for my release.”
A dark brow quirks up, looks around, then back down to you. “I’m not here to ruin your life, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
You sigh in relief. “God. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 
Crouching down to you, he tilts his head to the side with a sly grin. “You’re very welcome, but that doesn’t mean I like you.”
Your breath hitches, shivers spreading like a wildfire. “Sorry?”
“Yeah.” He steps away. “You already said that.”
-
“He was a bit guarded. Definitely guarded.”
“Isn’t this supposed to make me look good?” your fiancé grunts, dark eyes narrowing down on the Frenchman. “You know what? Just sit down.”
Pierre smirks. “See? Guarded.”
-
Autodromo Nazionale Monza—September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)
“I’m not a quitter.”
“There we go!”
“But he makes me want to quit.” “Oh, well now we’re back to square one,” Pierre groans. “He’s being hard headed, that’s all. I’ll talk to him again, don’t worry.”
And he does. 
It happens during one of the worst moments in your life; you weren’t wearing makeup. 
“You look—”
“Hideous?” You blush. “Yeah, don’t even mention it.”
He swallows, digging his hands deep into his pockets. “I wanted to apologize… for the way I reacted. It was immature.”
“N-no, you had every right to be upset. I crossed the line and I’m sorry.”
Max nods, Adam’s Apple dancing up, then down. “Truce?” 
Staring down at his large hand, you smile and slip yours past it. “Truce.”
And as a rare occasion, his smile meets his eyes, crinkles and all. The RedBull driver disconnects first, then rubs his jaw once before signaling down to your wet hair. “Pool day, I see? Enjoying the benefits?”
With a cheesy look, you shrug. “It’s one way to relieve stress.”
“Yeah—and what’s another?”
His tone is sultry and irresistible, you can’t help but rip your gaze away. “Anything that brings thrill, I suppose.” A tick. “Whatever that may be.”
“And what if it’s something bad? Does that still count?”
You laugh, throwing your head back. The Dutchman’s lips wobble as a weak attempt to not smile. “You’re not a bad person, so yes.”
His tongue clicks. “Uh, I don't know. As I recall, you called me a villain?”
Groaning, you gently smack his chest. “Will you ever let it go?”
“Might take me a while…”
Just as you’re about to respond, your phone rings and you smile. “L-Lissie.”
 The blue eyed boy nods. “Are you going to be interviewing me from now on?”
“Ah—is my ban lifted?”
“Yes.”
You roll your eyes. “Then yes.” Strolling past him, you wave. “See you around. And put on some sunscreen. It’s good for you.”
-
“Where are you even going with any of this?” Lewis hollers from the end of the table, taking a sip of wine. “You’ve just been talking about yourself, not them.”
Pierre scowls. “I’m getting there!” He returns his attention to the couple, gleaming. “So, as you can imagine, once I weaseled my way in and fixed their problems—your welcome, by the way—a certain spark came through. It was clearly evident.”
-
Marina Bay Street Circuit—October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)
“Nepo-Baby?”
You hum. “They all are.”
Lissie groans. “So how will I know which one?”
“Oh, you’ll know.” Squinting accusingly, the British girl sticks her tongue out before standing up, hands on her hips. She yawns. “I have to go find Will. Something about—whatever, you probably don’t even care.”
You giggle. “Nope. Have fun.”
Silence engulfs you as you close your eyes momentarily, pulling your coat over your chest. 
“Don’t you have to watch the race in order to report back on it? Ask questions?”
“Dude, I was just falling asleep…” You peek an eye open. “And yes. But it hasn’t started, so I'm clear.”
Max whistles, unimpressed. Falling down next to you on the fluffy couch, he places his hands over his stomach, closing his eyes, too. You try not to laugh and instead do the same. 
“Haven’t seen you around much.”
“Been hiding from you.”
“Seems like. Don’t do that.”
“Fine.” You grin, sitting up straight. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
“Probably.”
You snicker, pink tongue poking from in between your teeth. The cold air makes you snuggle deeper into your wannabe-blanket and he can’t help but take occasional glances. Teeth chatter. “C’mon. I’ll walk you.”
“...and I turned and said, isn’t that Celine Dion?” Lissie waves her hands back and forth, swaying like a Fly Guy. She pouts, stopping her movements. “Turns out I was just really freaking high.” Will laughs, jotting down God knows what onto a piece of paper as she continues cluttering herself with an obnoxious amount of wires. The British girl huffs. “Y’know, sometimes I wonder if it was—” A sharp gasp. “Him? Oh my—it’s him!”
“Don’t you mean her?” Will hums from his spot, still not looking up.
But wide-eyed Lissie stares with her jaw on the floor as you and Max cross by, laughing and pushing each other as you make your way down the paddock. As soon as you blush when he winks, it becomes all the more real. The young reporter nods, curled hair bobbing up and down. 
“R-right—her.”
-
Autódromo José Carlos Pace—November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)
“Is he cute? Yeah, maybe.” A finger pinches her top lip before releasing. “In a weird way.”
“Hey,” you warn.
“Is he your type? Don’t know why, but yes. I could see why you’re into him.”
“Great…”
“But is he the right choice? No. Not at all.”
“...and fantastic.” Flopping down onto your towel, you groan. Suddenly the blazing sun wasn’t the worst feeling because Lissie was right. It’s unbearable, almost. You prop up, facing her with a scrunched nose and squinted eyes. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh?”
“Oh no.” A sip of coconut water. She purses her lips. “God no.” You sigh, slowly, then sprawl back down with a sour snarl. You can hear her debate; muttering, mumbling. Still, that doesn’t get rid of your bad mood. The brunette pokes your thigh gently, nibbling her bottom lip. “He’s just so—and you’re just so—” A beat. “I’m just looking out for you.”
“Yeah.” Waves crash harder. Sun beams brighter. You open up the bottle of sunscreen, spurting some onto your burnt legs. You rub briskly; up, down. She flinches. “Yeah, I know.”
-
“And for a while, that was that,” Pierre announces, feigning indifference. “No more love birds.”
“Oh,” George blurts. Dark brows pinch up, teasing smile playing out. “Then why are we here?”
“Oh God,” you groan, digging your face into the nape of the twenty-six year old. You can faintly sniff out his musk scent, clean and so him. It makes you smile like a teen. “What if we just elope?”
He chuckles, vibrating and sending you on your own personal rollercoaster. “We always can. Is that what you want?” And he asks because he knows—no. That’s not what you want. Separating yourself to peck his cheek, you shake your head with a playful pout. “No. That’s not what I want.” 
“Good.” Watercolor eyes flicker to where Pierre finally gets yanked down and Lissie takes over with a proud smile. “Because I think this is actually going somewhere.”
-
Bahrain International Circuit—-March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)
So you kept your distance, and oddly enough, he did too. For plenty of reasons. And it wasn’t even that hard, really. He spent his summer break traveling and you spent yours as a homebody. No texts, no calls, no nothing.
“Heads or tails?”
“Tails.”
A sly grin. The silver coins flips a couple rounds before jumping up and down, clapping. “Heads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.”
“You’re going to get a sugar high and not be able to sleep later.”
“Until I can feel my teeth rot,” you retort, slipping your tongue over your pearly whites. 
Answering a few emails, you perch onto a chair. It’s too stiff, so you twist and turn until you ultimately decide to just stand. A gust of wind salutes you as your orbs flicker up to the sudden shadow. A breath catches. 
Max tilts his head in greeting. “Working hard already?” Your lips part. “The season’s barely begun.”
And just like that, your world tilts on its axis, but this time with more to lose. 
-
“As your best friend—” Lissie points clumsily at Carmen who giggles while the British girl furrows her thick brows. She glances around before spotting you dying with laughter on your fiancé’s lap. She claps. “I knew straight away—he was the one for you.”
-
Miami International Autodrome—-May 7, 2023 (Miami Grand Prix)
“How long has this been going on for?” she hisses, disappointed eyes challenging both you and Max. She gags at the hickeys on your neck and his tousled hair. 
With wobbly legs, you take her hands into yours. “A week—”
“No.”
“Well, two—”
Green paints her face. “No.”
“One month,” he murmurs from his corner in the elevator. Watercolor eyes flicker up, loopy. “It’s been a month. Ever since—”
“Azerbaijan.” Shamefully, you look down at your shoes and nearly scream bloody murder when you spot your thong just a few steps behind her. “Ew, gross,” Lissie gasps, shutting her eyes in despair. Taking in the opportunity, you scatter down and retrieve the thin fabric. The Dutchman releases a laugh, but bites down when the British girl glares hard. She curls a brow at your breathless state. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Giggling nervously from your place on the floor, you keep your hands behind your back; out of sight, out of mind. “Begging for forgiveness?”
“Oh stop it, a piece of land is what I need in order to forgive you for being dumb as shit.”
You frown, but quickly stand up when she exits the elevator. You can hear him follow with a bored expression. “Lissie, wait!”
Like a spinning top, she turns back, long layers slapping her pink face. “You two know this isn’t a good idea, right?”
“Yes—”
“For a million different reasons—”
“I-I’m aware,” you stutter. 
“Then why did you do it?” she whispers. 
And the truth is, you don’t know. All you know is that nothing else matters when you're with him. It’s sickening how blindsighted you get. Anxious eyes twirl over to the blue eyed boy who shared the same expression despite being unbothered a few seconds ago. 
Licking your lips, you play with the fabric. “That’s it. We’re done.” You turn to the RedBull driver. “Tell her.”
“Done.”
For a moment, you almost let yourself flinch from how fast and easy he’s able to say that one word. Lissie’s judgmental eyes look at you, then him, then sighs, reluctantly nodding. An awkward moment ticks by and then she’s focused, appalled. 
“Are those your panties?”
-
“You were like a dog who couldn’t bear the idea of leaving its bone.” Everyone snickers while you throw the same peony Daniel had aimed at Pierre to shut him up. She laughs, raising her arms up in defense. “And I know—I know—I came in like a monster, warning you off of all the drivers because like it or not, they’re scumbags—” 
“Ey. Watch it,” Carlos deadpans from the corner, brown eyes playfully glaring. 
She shrugs. “But I no longer liked playing the role of an evil step-sister so…” Tears brim and you choke on a wet sob. “I’m just so happy that you’re happy.” A pause. “That you're both happy.”
Leaping off his thick lap, you rush over, embracing her. She laughs, returning the gesture. “I love you,” you start. I know. “And I’m so happy that you never—”
A knowing smile. “I’d do anything for you.” 
-
Circuit de Monaco—May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)
Sneaking into his motorhome, you moan as soon as he gets his hands on your; sliding up and down your body with urgency. Heat radiates off of him and onto you. All of this— the cramped room, his lips attacking your neck—makes you dizzy. Clutching onto his sweaty hair, you arch, completely to him and for him. 
“We s-shouldn’t.” You gasp. Long fingers tease your aching pussy as you whine. He instantly slaps a large hand over your mouth as he continues his movements. The stretch burns, but it's fairly familiar that you don’t even cry out, just stare back with knitted brows and an open mouth that he can’t see, but can feel expand beneath his palm. 
“You’re probably right.” A steady stroke. “You should be out there.” His knuckles curl as he reaches your g-spot. “Preparing those foolish questions.” A muffled moan. “But you’re here, because you know that this excites you as much as it does me.”
Calloused pads push down before drawing figure eights deep inside. “You’ve been a bit uptight. Could it be—”
“No,” you cut him off. “Don’t even try and blame it on—”
“Fine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?” 
Feeling your orgasm rolling in is one thing, but your snarkiness is another. Gritting your teeth, you force him down to kiss you, teeth and all, and then rip away with a sultry smile. “Maybe, but who cares?”
You’re not completely off. At that moment in time, neither of you cared about the consequences. It’s just that as soon as a room of watchful eyes flicker to you two, you swallow a low wince. 
Grabbing your microphone, you fix your disheveled hair. Lissie’s eyes flicker between you and him, slow and scary. Like she’s reading right through you and your lies.
Beaming at the awaiting grid, you raise your chin up. “Who’s ready?”
-
“Finally,” Daniel yells, rolling his cuffed sleeves. “Someone with an actual story to tell.” A wide smile has never made you more nervous than at this very instant, so reasonably so, you swallow the entire glass of—
“Vodka, baby! That was my vodka—your champagne is right there.”
Blinking, you giggle, wiping your plump lips with the back of your hand. “What yours is mine, no? Isn’t that what marriage is all about?”
He chuckles. Lean arms wrap around your waist like a harness. “Keep this up and you’re not going to be able to sleep later.”
“The opposite, actually,” you state as a matter-of-fact. “Just need to get blackout drunk.”
He cocks his head to the side. “That’s not like you.” “...should have seen her! She was wasted as shit!” the Australian yelps, buzzing with excitement. You nip at the air all while he raises his voice an additional octave. “I found her there, at the bar, close to getting alcohol poisoning, but you know what they say—only drunks and children tell the truth.”
-
Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)
“Oui, the beer! Fucking amazing,” Pierre declares with a mouthful. 
“Say it, don’t spray it,” someone screeches, and is quickly identified to be Alex when he wipes his shimmery forehead. You laugh, taking baby sips from your drink. Shirley Temple, because contrary to belief, you weren’t a nasty drunk.
The Frenchman pouts, tapping his fingers against the brown glass. He turns to you with a sheepish grin. “I read your article.”
“Yeah?”
He nods. “Have to admit, it's kind of boring. It’s not your fault though. Max Verstappen's domination has made the sport sort of…” He pretends to wilt, to which you toss your head back with laughter. 
“Your time will come, Pierre, your time will come.”
“Shit, shit, shit! Bathroom!” Lissie’s long legs wobble like a plate of jello as you hurry over to catch her. 
“Crap—you smell like shit.”
The British girl squeals, yanking her hair, dancing from side to side. “I smoked a fat blunt, but never mind that, if I don’t find a loo in approximately five seconds, then I will smell like actual shit.”
A nose scrunch. “That’s not very lady-like.” She paces some more. “Let’s go.”
Meanwhile, on the other side of the crowded room, Max watches as the two journalists slip away. He keeps a close eye for a while until a certain brunette swoops in right next to him with a loopy grin and crinkly eyes. 
“You should talk to her. Seems like you really like her.”
“What? What makes you say that? What makes you think that?”
Daniel shrugs, rotating his blunt back into his mouth. “Dilation.”
The Dutchman gags. “What…like when a woman gives birth?”
A sore laugh. “As in your eyes.” Another hit. “Y’know…they just look—different. When you look at her, I mean.”
And he hopes it is not apparent that these words make him swallow. For the past year, he’s tried his best to hide his feelings for the sake of not making a fool out of himself, and later for a whole other, but…
He licks his sudden dry lips. “Hm. Doesn’t matter if my eyes fucking shine or not, she’s not my type.”
The Australian frowns. “Sucks. Lissie’s really cool.” His eyes flicker over to the RedBull driver in a nonchalant manner, but when he blinks back with rose tinted cheeks, despite not having a sip of alcohol, he chokes on his puff. “Oh shit, no…”
In a flash, Max yanks the blunt away, dipping it into an anonymous drink. “You’re right, she is so cool—”
Brown eyes narrow down in accusation, brows knitted sharply. “Right, but we’re not talking about Lissie…” A wince. “Mate, you can’t…you know you can’t.”
And just like that, Daniel notices the blown out pupils revert back to its original shape. Small and empty. “Yeah. Of course.” He plops back down onto his stiff seat, rubs his eyes, then smiles. “I know that. I-I-I was never going to—yeah.” 
-
“He—” Daniel points over to the broad twenty-six year old who sits with a timid smile. “...didn't have a single sip of beer that night because he was too focused looking after her.” A whistle. “And if that isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.”
“Wow, congrats,” George says to your fiancé. “For not being an alcoholic, really, that's impressive.” You can hear the humor that coats his voice and you can’t help but giggle. Calloused fingers slip up to pinch your thigh as you laugh harder. 
“That’s why I drank twice as much that day,” Pierre announces with a firm voice. “Because he was missing out on some fantastic beer.”
“Drunkard,” Alex whispers to Lily who stifles a snicker. 
The tall Australian clicks his tongue. “So who was the wasted one who confessed their little white lies?”
Everyone’s eyes turn to face you as you burn up with mortification.
“What the fuck, I barely even drink!”
-
Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)
“You.”
“Me?”
You snarl, stomping over. “She's a lightweight, dumbass. Why would you get her high? Jesus, we have a flight in eight hours.”
Daniel cackles, clapping as if delighted at the fact. “She kept insisting! I felt bad.”
An eye roll. “Douche.”
He tries to make it up to you with a drink. “Pierre says they’re good.” You eye the bottle hesitantly. He sighs. “Come on, trust me.” He eventually sneaks off for a minute, but returns with a new blunt. 
“Did you pull another one out of your ass or where did you get that from?”
“Oh no. How many did you drink?”
Squinting, you motion him to take a seat. He does, but he can’t even smoke in peace now that you sway from side to side, despite being seated. “I don’t know. Too many.” He groans, large hands tugging his hair. You take a long sip, then raise your glass like some wannabe. “He told me he loves me. Tonight. Right when you left. And you know what I told him?” Another sip. “I told him I love him too.”
The Australian chuckles. “I didn’t expect you to fall for someone like him.”
“Me either. But I fell—tumbled.” You frown. “I’m just not sure this is the right thing to feel, y’know?”
His orbs flicker to the twenty-six year old who huddles with a bunch of the other drivers. He smiles, tilting his head. “Why not?”
“Because everytime I look at him, I fear the way my heart beats. He laughs, I laugh, and it feels wrong. He smiles, I smile, and it feels wrong. He makes one of our inside jokes, I understand, and it feels wrong.” A shaky laugh. “And something that should feel fucking right, doesn’t.” Glossy eyes switch over to him. “Does that make sense?”
“Not really.” 
“Great,” you let out, wiping your tears away. “It’s fine, I didn’t expect you to understand.”
Daniel smiles, fondly, like an older brother. “It doesn’t, and you want to know why?”
“Why?”
A second passes by before he leans back against his chair. “Because it looks like you really—really—like him, so why should any of that matter? Just let yourself be happy, fuck everything else.”
You scoff, furrowing your brows. “You’re a bad influence.”
“Why?”
“Because it would never work out.”
“And why not? You’re giving up too eas—oh.” Almost robotically, he drops his blunt into your beer bottle. “You can’t…”
“Yeah. I know.” A pause. “Beer’s ass, by the way.”
-
Daniel taps his fingers against his chin, comedically. His orbs flicker between you two who stare up at him in deep focus, awaiting for his next words. He grins. “You two, it works. It always has.”
-
Circuit Zandvoort—August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)
“Oh fuck,” he grunts, thrusting into you harder as you cling onto his arm, eyes screwed shut. “H-holy fucking—hell.”
You moan, mouth hung wide open. “Feel so good, Maxie, so, so good.”
Blue eyes admire the way you arch towards him like some sort of warm invitation. The way your legs lazily drape over his sweaty waist, how your scent hugs him like no one else. It’s all so familiar, and nice, and right. Your soft palm grazing his jaw makes him alert in an instant, desperate to not miss a single thing that lives inside this moment. 
He furrows his dark brows. “We-We’re not made for one another.”
“I know.” He grunts, animalistically. “They warned me about you.”
“They told me to stay away from you.” His tip brushes against your g-spot and your head lolls back, a loud sound. “But God, it’s been impossible.” 
“Max, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—I’m close.”
He grins, rubs your clit, and whimpers when he feels you reach your orgasm. You shudder when he follows soon after, face digging into the nape of your neck. Your heart pounds like a ticking time bomb, but still, you run your fingers through his dirty blond waves. 
“Lissie…Daniel…they’re—”
“Right?” You choke up. “Yeah, you don’t know how much I hate that they are.”
He pulls away, and somehow, his watercolor eyes appear more blue than ever before. Black, almost—nearly. And you’re sure yours do too. 
Max plays with your hair, tracing it like a map. He gulps. “So do I.” A tug. “I love you. Y-you weren’t some fuck buddy to me…you’ve always been more than that. And…I hate that too.”
A wet laugh. “I love you, too.” Wobbly smile. “And it’s because I love you that I know what comes after this.”
He hums. “What would that be?”
“Nothing.”
-
“I know many of you guys are wondering why I’m best man—”
“Not wondering, more like questioning,” Carlos quips with a sly smirk.
Pierre flips him off and you laugh at the immature interaction between the drivers. “Because it really could have easily been anyone else. Ha! Even you Carlos.” The Spaniard mocks him with a shady, playful, look. 
“Then again, who would have thrown a better rehearsal dinner for Charles and his bride-to-be?”
-
Circuit Zandvoort—September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)
"You got on Max Verstappen’s bad side, that’s what."
“It’s probably nothing or he’s just a sensitive little pussy,” you shoot back defensively. 
Lissie snickers, hushing you, orbs scanning the pen. “You can’t say shit like that! Any of it, actually,” she adds. “Just…think before saying anything.”
You huff, arms crossed, stubbornly. “Fine.”
As the open area starts filling up more and more, by some miracle, your nerves start dying down.
Or so you thought.
“Before I let you go, I do have one more question.” Charles smiles down at you, shy dimples poking through. You return the gesture. “Would you consider yourself Ferrari’s savior or their scapegoat?”
“Jesus,” the British girl groans, covering her eyes with second-hand embarrassment. 
The Monegasque lets out a nervous laugh, turning to face his publicist who simply tippy toes and whispers something into his ear. He nods. “I-I-I actually have another interview set up, but thank you for your…questions.” Pink tints his ears as he looks at you one more time before strolling away.
“Alrighty then,” Lissie hollers. She sneaks the microphone away. “Jitters, totally normal, but yeah, you’re done for today.”
-
“I don’t care if she’s royalty, I’m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.”
“Would you look at that?” Pierre gloats with a wicked grin. “Max Verstappen got butthurt.”
The Dutchman scoffs. “No, I did not. I just don’t like stupid questions, and she made one.”
Yuki snickers at his wary response. Pierre rolls his eyes. “I could talk to her, if you want me to. I love shit like this.”
“I don’t.”
“Well too bad, I’m going to.”
-
“Yeah. You already said that.”
Dumbfounded, you blink as he walks away, wet towel draped over his head. If you had known he was this much of a shithead, then you wouldn’t have bothered to try and apologize. Clicking your tongue, you burn with fury as you glare, but as soon as the Ferrari driver brushes past you, you fall back from your trance. 
“Hey!”
He turns, green eyes furrowed with confusion. “Hey.”
A wince. “I’m sorry about my ignorant question from earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 
Charles blushes. “Am I that easy to read?”
“No, but Pierre let me know.” You awkwardly kick your shoe against the pavement and his eyes follow. You stop. “I sort of pissed off two of the most important drivers on the grid today. You, uh, just happen to be one of them.”
He softens like ice cream on a hot summer day. “I’m not pissed.” You almost let out a giggle from how foreign his accent makes the curse sound. He stammers. “You just caught me off guard, that’s all. Plus, I can’t answer questions like those. It would make all of us look bad.”
“Oh. Duh. Of course.” Now you burn up. “I should have known. And it’s no excuse, but I’m new and I’m just…figuring it out.”
His eyes crinkle as he nods. “Who was the other driver?”
You groan. “Max.”
He winces, shaking his hands, theatrically. “Yikes. Yeah, now he’s probably pissed.”
-
Autodromo Nazionale Monza—September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)
 “Will you ever let it go?”
“Might take me a while…”
As soon as your phone dings, vibrating against your palm, he curls a brow. “L-Lissie,” you fill in with a subtle smile. “See you around. And put on some sunscreen. It’s good for you.”
Rushing back to the pool with a new bottle of SPF, you grin as he aims a deadpan expression. “A little Vitamin D is always necessary.”
“Don’t care, I don’t want to look like a peanut in two years.” You plop some onto his hand as he childishly swipes it over his face. You squirm with the way droplets slither down his toned chest.
Charles extends his hands. “Can I have some more?”
You laugh, wet hair tossing back like a curtain. “Hypocrite.” 
Green eyes glare down, playfully.
-
Marina Bay Street Circuit—October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)
“I can’t believe someone’s rocking your boat,” Lissie yelps, clutching onto your hand desperately. “This is monumental.” A teasing giggle. “We should definitely document this.”
As soon as she pulls out her phone, you flip her off. “And this, my dear, dear friend, is why I’ve been keeping this a secret.” She zooms in as you laugh, brushing her away. “Quit!”
The British girl groans, slipping it into her back pocket, then wiggles her thick brows. “Can I guess who it is?”
“No.”
“It’ll be fun!”
You spin around. “No, Lissie—no.”
“Nepo-Baby?”
Flustered, you twirl your necklace and hum. “They all are.”
“Fucking hell. So how will I know which one?”
A mocking laugh. “Oh, you’ll know.”
The brunette stays wondering despite being in the middle of telling her story from last week at the pub. She traces back to every possible driver, but they’re all natural flirts, so fuck that, how would she ever even be able to guess that—
“Oh my—it’s him!” She gasps with hawk eyes as she watches you two keep a careful distance from one another, as if temptation burns within the gap. Lissie lets out a delirious laugh as she turns to Will, who is still rather focused on his task. “I, um, will be right back!”
Wearing a goofy smile, you make your way back to the pen, but squeal when a firm grip wraps around your waist, tugging you into a cramped bathroom. You cringe at the suffocated smell. On the other hand, Lissie jumps from corner to corner. “How did I not notice? I mean, shit, you’re eyes—they’re huge!”
You frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
With a toothy grin, she pokes your ribs. “It means I know who it is.”
Your heart stops, then bite the inside of your cheek, feigning indifference. “We’re just getting to know each other, but he’s really kind, and I…I really like him.”
“Oh, I bet you do,” she whispers in a seductive manner, jeweled hands slapping your ass. You chuckle, opening the door, and turning back. “You get lost in his eyes, don’t you? Heard that could happen.” A swoon. “So what? Are they like the ocean? Like a blueberry Laffy Taffy?”
“Hm. No. More like green apple.”
She halts, mid-shimmy. “What do you mean green? His eyes are blue. And I would know—they scare me half of the time.”
“What are you talking about? Charles’ eyes are green.” The brunette gapes, mouth hung wide open as she pushes herself to speak, but can’t find the strength. You knit your brows, neat and high. “I told you not to scroll through your phone at three a.m. anymore. See? Jet lag is catching up to you.”
-
Autódromo José Carlos Pace—November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)
“I’m just looking out for you.”
“Yeah, I know.” Tired eyes squint over at the blue waves, then at the kids who build sandcastles. 
She sighs, propping herself to face you with a sorrowful smile. “It’s okay to be confused about your feelings.”
“You don’t have to sugarcoat it, I know its as bad as it sounds.” You raise your straw onto your plump lips, sucking. “But they’re just so different from one another. I mean, Charles makes me feel giddy. Like really giddy. It’s nauseating. He’s sweet, and caring, and he's snappy but it’s endearing.” A soft smile and dreamy eyes. “He even helps with my notes.”
“But Max…he’s hot tempered. It drives me nuts. He never asks for help and always hides behind some brick wall. It isn’t like him to show me that he’s interested in getting to know me, but…” Cries ring through the hot air as a wave washes the sandcastle. “I want to get to know him. The real him.”
Lissie’s lips turn downwards at your broken tone. You act uninterested, but she knows it just for show, and that might be the worst torture of all. 
She bumps your head with her shoulder, softly, and you instantly pout. “You’ll know what to do, babe. But if we’re being realistic here, Charles won’t wait forever.” Pause. “And Max isn’t the kind to grovel for anything other than podiums.”
-
Bahrain International Circuit—March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)
“Heads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.”
Charles lets out a heavy sigh, shoulders drooping as he strolls away. You pick and choose emails to respond to before leaning against one leg, typing away fiercely. You even have time to get back to your sister who begs for a souvenir. Any, she adds with a thousand smiley faces. 
“Working hard already? The season’s barely begun.” Your breath catches so sharply that it hurts your throat for a second. His voice is somehow deeper, but it could be because you haven’t seen or heard from him in about forever. Max steps closer. “H-how was your summer break?”
Your berry lips open, then close, then repeat. It’s embarrassing. “Never bad to get ahead, and I—had a good one. Much needed.” He nods attentively. “You look—” You stop before admitting. “Healthy. You look really healthy”
A booming chuckle. “Thanks. You look really healthy, too.”
Blue eyes linger for a second too long and that fills you up with unwanted adrenaline. “Why are you here?” Pink expands through your cheekbones as you grimace. “I mean—here.” You point at the tiny tent as if it weren’t obvious what you were referring to. “Here, here.”
The Dutchman’s lips dance, fondly. “Well I was walking by, saw you, and wanted to say hi.” He looks around with a subtle frown. “Is now a bad time?”
“Well—”
“Mate,” a sweet accent rings through the air as you screw your eyes shut. Max turns to face Charles with a slow grin. The Monegasque tilts his head in greeting, hands occupied with your beverage and his. “How have you been?”
“So, so. Yourself?”
“Good. Refreshed.” 
“For me?” he jokes. The brunette chuckles, raising the coffee cups with bright orbs. “Lazy Carlos, always sending you, right?”
The Ferrari driver shakes his head, curls following, then hands it to you. You hesitantly take it from him as you avoid eye contact. “Thank you, Charles.”
His smile widens, pecking your lips. “Still don’t think you should drink it on a daily basis, but hey, you’re welcome.”
Max blinks. “W-when did this happen?”
The green eyed boy hums, lips twisting against his straw. “Over break.”
“Oh.” Gaze slips over to where you bite your cheek. “You spent it in Monaco?”
A harsh tick. “Yes.” With an open mouth, he nods, like a muppet. You purse your lips, facing your boyfriend with pleading eyes. “Do you want to start making your way over? I don’t want Carlos to say anything about being late. You know how he is.”
Charles snickers, then intertwines his fingers through yours. “See you on track?”
The RedBull driver released a low breath, cracking a smile that looked more like a snarl. And while Charles doesn’t notice it, you do. Of course you do.
“See you on track.”
-
Miami International Autodrome—May 7, 2023
“Then why did you do it?” she whispers. The judgment and confusion that radiates off of Lissie is enough for you to grow gray. She rolls her tongue. “You can’t be doing stuff like this anymore, you have a boyfriend.” Her eyes screw shut, then snap open. “He adores the ground you walk on, are you insane?”
Tears well up at her truthful words. They sting all at once, and you carelessly crumble as your numb lips start to wobble. “Lissie—”
“No. Just—stop. Stop talking.” Max raises his eyebrows at the journalist and her sternness, but feels bad as you inch back, heels clicking. She huffs, pacing the hall. When she comes to a stop, she glares at the Dutchman. “How could you do this, too?”
“I never meant any harm—”
“Bullshit! Both of you are so stupid, it’s worrisome.” Shame fills your veins as you look down, pinching your undergarment as some coping mechanism. The British girl sighs. “You have to tell him.”
“No.”
“What do you mean no? He deserves to know.”
Decreasing the gap between you two, you sniffle, shaky hands clutching harder. “It’s going to kill him, Lissie. I can’t do that.”
And you can tell she’s running through her options because she’s your best friend. And above all, you were hers. With hesitance, she nods. “This has to end.”
You nod, desperately. “That’s it. We’re done.”
-
Circuit de Monaco—May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)
“You’ve been a bit uptight. Could it be Charles that’s making you feel that way?”
“No. Don’t even try and blame it on him.”
He pinches your nipple, then licks your humid skin. You whine at the sensation. “You’re not getting anything in return for lying. It’s pathetic.”
You hiss when your climax tempts to fall. “What's the lie?”
“That you love him.”
“I do love him—”
He groans into your neck. “You sound so pretty.” A sloppy thrust. “When you choke around my cock, my spit, my cum.” Your eyes roll back when he pushes against your g-spot at a different angle. “Admit it, you’ve always enjoyed it.”
“You’re sick."
“Maybe, but you’re well worth it.” 
You clench around his length and he hisses like a snake. In pain. In lust. Doesn’t matter. “You’re a shitty friend—”
Jaw clenches. “You’re a shitty girlfriend.” When you cry out in pleasure, he smirks. “Fine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?” 
“Maybe, but who cares?” 
And there's nothing left for him to do, simply smiling down at you like the Cheshire Cat, somehow scarier than The Joker. If not more. 
-
Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)
“Right, but we’re not talking about Lissie. Mate, you can’t…you know you can’t.” Daniel grimaces. “She’s taken.”
“I know,” Max stutters. “Who do you take me for?”
The Australian is easy to tell when he laughs genuinely, but even the RedBull driver can spot the difference to the one exiting his mouth right now. “You think she’s pretty—that’s all.”
“That’s all,” he confirms. 
“And that’s not a weird thing to admit because she is a pretty girl,” the brunette tries to help as Max nods happily. 
“Exactly.” A pause. “You get it.”
Daniel brings the blunt up to his mouth, taking a hit, then blows out. “Y-yeah…because it’d be bad if you liked her, liked her.” 
“I know that. I-I-I was never going to—yeah.” His heart pounds fast against his ribs when you giggle, pecking Charles’s neck, all while conversing with Lissie, Kika, and Pierre. He directs his attention back to the Australian and lets out a raw laugh. 
“I wouldn’t be that stupid.”
-
“You’re a bad influence.”
“Why?”
“Because it would never work out.”
“And why not? You’re giving up too eas—oh.” In an instant, his brown eyes follow yours, and it makes his heart drop. Because it’s not Charles that you’ve suddenly realized that you love, but Max. “You can’t…” Somewhere close by, Pierre yells, cheering with a group of older ladies as Kika glares, shaking her head. He inches closer. “You can’t do that to Charles. He loves you.”
“And I love him,” you announce, brushing your hair back. Timidly, you peek over at him. “I’m not a saint, I know that, but I would appreciate it if we kept this between us.” A sore chuckle. “W-what matters is that I choose Charles. He’s the love of my life.”
And Daniel knows he probably shouldn’t agree to any of this, and yet, he finds himself nodding, curls bouncing. “Just between us.”
You smile gently, going in for another sip before laughing at the blunt that sticks inside. 
 “Beer’s ass, by the way.”
-
Circuit Zandvoort—August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)
 “I love you. Y-you weren’t some fuck buddy to me…you’ve always been more than that. And…I hate that too.”
“I love you, too. And it’s because I love you that I know what comes after this.”
“What would that be?”
“Nothing.”
He flinches. “I-it doesn’t have to be that way. You could lea—”
You sigh, pulling your dress up as he zip his race suit. “I can’t leave him, Max. It’s not that easy.”
He pants, blue eyes tracing your face anxiously. “A-and why not? Why can’t it be that easy?”
A cruel laugh wiggles up your throat as you dig your nails into your palm. “Because I’m engaged!”
He ricochets with a scoff. “Oh, what? Now you suddenly care about not being called a cheater?” You look away and he chuckles. “Because that’s what you are—a fucking cheater.”
Your face patches into a shade of pink as you breathe heavily, refusing to let the tears fall. “And what does that make you?”
“I am not a cheater.”
You snarl. “No, but you’re a God awful friend.”
He steps back, large hand running against his lips, drying them out, getting rid of your saliva. “You’re just—you know what? Fuck you.”
You gasp. “No. Fuck you.”
Max rolls his blue eyes, finally reaching his breaking point as he pushes you against the wall to his motorhome. “You’re scared, aren’t you? Of realizing what we actually are.”
Heavy pants. Orbs flicker down to his rosy lips. He almost smiles. “What are we? A cheater and a bad friend?”
“No. A villain and their accomplice.” That seems to do it. A strong tide takes over as you sob against his grip. And it doesn’t hurt, it’s not tight. It’s only secure. He continues with a dark look swirling his orbs. “You know, you were always the first one to point out someone as a bad person, when in reality, it's you.”
“Okay, stop—”
“And I’m not innocent either—I’m well aware—but I’m not the one with a ring around their finger.”
“Stop!” you yell, pushing him away harshly. It should feel foreign, the fury and the shame, but that’s all you seem to know these days. Or ever since you met him. “You’re right. We’re two rotten apples, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, but can you blame me? You’re fucking with my head, Max!”
He softens, and for a moment, its pure silence, other than your tiny cries. Licking his lips, he pats his thigh. “You already know I’m wrongfully in love with you. I just actually thought I stood a chance. That it would be me.”
“Max…”
He winces in pain with how sweet your voice sounds pronouncing his name. It’s always been that way. When you first interviewed him a year ago, to when you first kissed him back and gasped his name. But it only got dirtier and dirtier throughout the course of time. 
“Be honest with me, please.” Bloodshot eyes look up at him. “Is he your safest option? Is that what this is?”
And with one final, tormented look, you open your lips to breathe out. 
“He’s someone I could envision a future with, Max.” A beat. “And you’re just a footnote.”
-
“Voilá!” Charles cheers as he claps loudly against your ear. You yelp at the sudden sound all while trying to reach for his hands to stop his movements. He grins, deep dimples imprinting like feet on sand. “That was beautiful, really, it really was.”
Rubbing your ass against his bulge is the only way you think you can get him to shut up, and he does, immediately letting out a strained chuckle. Smiling sweetly at your friends, you shrug. “I had my doubts, Pierre, but this was pretty cute. Thank you.”
The Frenchman gloats, clicking his fingers. I told you, I told you they’d like it! Your fiancé kisses your cheek. “That’s why I chose him.” A playful frown. “You see, mon amour? You never hold any faith in my decisions.”
Rolling your eyes, you stick your pink tongue out at him. “I still think you should have chosen one of your brothers.” A stern look. “Like Lorenzo—wasn’t he the one that helped you buy the ring?”
“Yes, but that would have been unfair to Arthur. He would’ve felt left out.”
“Arthur’s too distracted trying to figure out the difference between left and right!” The Monegasque tosses his head back and you admire with a soft glow. “I lo—”
“Wait,” Carlos hollers, deep accent ringing. You and Charles turn, bubble bursting. “We all went around sharing but Max.”
“Yeah,” Lily ponders, fingers tracing her lips. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Pierre hums. “Mate?”
Max blinks, shaking his head. “Ah, it’s alright. We’ve heard enough, don’t you think?” His joke is meant to be easy going, but it comes out dry, and even to this day, you can notice it. Licking your already glossed lips, you flip your gaze to Lissie and Daniel who share the same worried expression.
Because Lissie was your best friend. She would carry your secret to the grave.
Because Daniel was Max’s best friend. He would carry his secret to the grave.
But the Dutchman himself didn't care. He honestly felt like he had nothing else to lose.
“Okay then,” he whispers, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans. He slightly tilts his head to the open sky, as if wondering when it would swallow him whole. He was secretly hoping it would. Beady, excited, and petrified eyes stare back at him as he smiles awkwardly. “I…”
“He doesn’t want to,” you declare, twisting to signal the Frenchman. “If he doesn’t want to, then he doesn’t have to say anything, it’s fine.”
“No.” Blue eyes darken as he places his drink down onto the wooden table. “I want y—” He bites his tongue, immediately tasting metallic. “I want to.”
“Let him,” Charles says, chuckling softly. “Don’t kill his stride.”
So, with neat brows drawn together, clammy fingers playing with your silver band, you sit back down. Like a force of nature, the Monegasque hugs you from behind. You gulp, leaning the back of your head against his shoulder. 
“I think it’s crazy how one minor decision can change absolutely fucking everything.” 
“Oh shit,” Lissie and Daniel mutter next to each other, exchanging the blunt back and forth. 
Your face twists up like a wrinkled shirt. “If you’re not going to say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” he instantly shoots back, but feverishly deflates when Charles furrows his dark brows like some Doberman. Astonished at his cold tone, you blink, lashes fluttering like a notebook. He almost swoons at the sight, but amazingly holds back. 
“If you hadn’t taken Pierre’s advice and apologized to Charles, then we wouldn't be here. If you hadn’t spent summer break with him, then we wouldn’t be here. If you hadn't fallen in love, then we wouldn’t be here.” He swallows. “It’s the little things.”
“And, um...what makes a relationship work out is the commitment. If one person commits and the other doesn’t then it won’t ever work out, but you two…” You nibble on your bottom lip harshly, holding your breath as he looks into your bright eyes. He releases a forced chuckle, as if it would help get rid of his splintered heart. “You two chose each other, so…cheers to that.”
“Wow,” Charles hums, blankly. “That was surprisingly heartfelt…” A sheepish grin. “Thank you, mate.”
It’s as if he’s suddenly admitting defeat to someone who didn’t know they had him as an opponent to begin with; the way he throws the peony at the Monegasque, who catches it with ease. “Don’t mention it.” 
So, as Max sits alone, with no date, he begins to wonder that maybe—just maybe—you were right all along. 
He gave his speech last.
He was the footnote.
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b00tyliciousbabe · 6 months ago
Text
munch
bisexualbigboybf! x THICC!male reader
summary: manifesting my future husband
notes: THANKS FOR 1k ppl dem! BEEN IN DRAFTS FOR A WHILE. i think there needs to be some more love + appreciation for bi men and big boys so i amalgamated the two. not a fetish y’all, just a preference, they be taking care of my inner princess and for that i will ALWAYS be grateful. a lot of feminisation in this one so tread carefully. it’s a lil messy (jumps in tenses and stuff like that) but i litch couldn’t focus without getting too excited. ENJOY MY HEARTS.
song rec: normani - big boy (feat. starrah)
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅
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your big boy bf didn’t think he had a chance with you at first, nor did he even want one. at first he hated you, watching how all the other men in your life were one flirty conversation away from having a piece of your juicy ass, and how the girls envied and coveted your thick hourglass figure. your sweet personality sickened him ; you made sure to give them your gym routine and your diet, being the beauty guru you were. but what he realised, was not that he hated you, but that he hated not having you. when he realised this, he needed you, more than anything.
you embodied a refreshing style of hyper femininity that made you all the more attractive to your bi man. seeing your body in its thick glory made him love himself more. how your belly added to your voluptuous figure, your plump cheeks, and fleshy muscle surrounding your chest and thighs, he was mesmerised by your form. you were, in his eyes, divine. little did he know that you had fallen first; his broad shoulders, strong biceps and pudgy belly practically had you ovulating. your gigantic teddy bear, standing at a foot taller than you, had a heart of gold and this protective aura around him, enamoured you.
when you debuted your relationship online, you were met with a flurry of mainly positive responses. yeah sure there were the odd few denouncing your femininity and body shaming y’all, but you ignored them because you don’t have to convince the world that you’re THEE baddie b and your man is the sexiest mf to ever exist.
luvagoalz: they are literally the embodiment of the wattpad height difference. I NEED.
user222: y/n getting dicked down DAILY by a giant is so girlboss of him.
sza: bestie got himself a big boy - y/n send me the deets for the wedding.
your bf is a huge gym rat and when you two became exclusive, your already voluptuous figure became all the more defined with his help. you were flawless. you love seeing him in the gym, sweating as the veins in his forearms pop out making him look so attractive. he definitely enjoys your company there, teasingly rubbing his bulge against your ass and face when no one was watching. his exhibitionist kink goes crazy seeing how beautifully your workout clothes hug your butt and cinch your waist. he used to be slightly insecure about his stretch marks but after a cool down session, and you complimenting them like lightning bolts imprinted on his skin, he felt superhuman. you always knew what to say to make him feel better.
he’s so protective of you. always sleeps on the side closest to the door and isn’t afraid to send someone to hospital if they even look at you the wrong way, or in a manner he doesn’t like. in his mind he’s seeded you and you’re literally carrying his kids and thus it’s his responsibility to protect you. it’s almost primal. he isn’t controlling or anything, but finds it incredibly important to remind you that with him you are completely safe.
they say the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and boy was that the case during your talking stage. it was perfect; you love to cook and so he’s more than happy to try your baked goods. your boyfriend loves his sleep on the weekends and so in true house husband fashion you often prepare breakfast in an apron with your thick cheeks hanging out from behind. one day he woke up to the sweet smell of you making his favourite. groggily stumbling into the kitchen, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, long dick swinging out of his briefs as he advanced towards you.
‘good morning love.’ his deep voice sent shivers down your spine as he kissed the words into your neck. he held onto the groove of your hips, caressing your lower back with the tip of his index finger and watched as you writhed beneath him. ‘babe, what are you doing up? you need your sleep, you’ve been working so hard lately.’ you said, breathing haphazardly as he ground himself into you. ‘i missed you. and i want my morning kisses.’ beginning to untie your apron he turned you around, and removed the lace from around your neck. hiking you up on the table top, the heat of your bare ass, that his dick previous massaged into you, was cooled by the granite. you wrapped your legs around him, as your hands stroked his beard. wiping that shit eating grub off of his face, your lips came closer to his own, as you could feel his heartbeat in his throat - this man is so in love with you. the kiss lasted quite a while, precum staining the opening of his boxers and pooling on your thighs. you knew that you were about to be fucked dumb and so you turned of the hob to avoid burning the house down. the fire inside y’all was more than enough to keep you going.
your man doesn’t fully realise his own strength. he was very hesitant to have sex with you for a while and mostly stopped at groping you before his dick got too hard to ignore. so, for your first time, he had to refrain literally ripping your clothes to get to the prize of your nudity. he absolutely loves seeing you (try to) deepthroat. the reason? his size kink goes insane when you attempt to take his gigantic package. this man is LONG and GIRTHY, capable of splitting you in half and abusing all your spots with ease. the veiny sausage he’s packing could do some serious damage but he held back when it came to your first couple times with him.
he always takes time to ensure that your safe and comfortable. initially his size intimidated you, your mannerisms connoting your subtle anxiety. he kissed the fear out of you, reassuringly saying, ‘you know I would never do anything to hurt you.’
your boyfriend is the KING of consent, always ensuring that you want his big cock just as much as he wants to feel the warmth of your boy pussy. one day whilst he was working from home, he noticed you squirming like an omega in heat. he sighed and smirked. ‘d’you want me to fuck you?’ he burst out. already used to his blunt disposition, you nodded. advancing closer towards you, staring down at the desperation in your face, he stroked your hair. ‘use your words y/n, i wanna hear how badly you want it.’ his charisma practically had you high. ‘I need you, please.’ you began to undo the string that held up his joggers, as he removed his tshirt. ‘i can never say no to my baby boy.’ he smiled, pants bunching at his ankles as he slowly railed on the edge of your shared bed.
he encourages you to take him fully each time, praising you because no one else had been able to take him past halfway. ‘i know baby, i know, do it one more time for me.’ he said endearingly, wiping the tears from your face as his dick invaded your throat.‘THERE IT ISSS UGH FUCK! i love your mouth.’ he cooed.
equally, your bf is the only man you’ve been with that’s been able to satisfy you sexually. you steered clear from all the men who were only interested in your body and not your heart and so you had very minimal experience outside of toys and your hands. the few you may or may not have been with were damn near clueless. on the other hand…your man has had plenty of hoe phases. it sly bugged you how he’d been intimate with a greater number you could’ve imagined but all that disappeared when he first made love to you. the best thing about him is that he can handle allat that ass. despite the clear size difference this doesn’t stop you from being a FREAK. He even encourages it. loving your thick globes of ass flesh kiss his lower belly as you push back and twerk all over his dick. his favourite part of your shape are your hips. he wants to breed you full of his children.
whenever he says ‘fuck yeah baby, back that shit up.’ it sends you orbital. it’s well known that the two of you share a huge affinity for doggy. the way you stroke his pudginess while he rails you in that position has become a safety mechanism - one that he has learnt to make the experience all the more enjoyable. with one hand holding you up (realistically struggling to, under the sheer passion of his fucking) and the other one bent behind your back fingering his belly button. his huge dick borderline tears you open and by grabbing onto him makes you feel safe. he usually recognises that it’s getting a bit too much when your moans become screams, and you get tighter. and as much as he loves seeing you overstimulated and fucked out on his cock, he doesn’t wanna break you (completely). so he slows down, soothing your pain with sweet nothings and his large hands massaging your ass cheeks.
for him personally though, he loves to smush you underneath his weight. in prone bone, he has direct access to your ear, whispering words of affirmation but degrading you with the grip of his arms around your neck. his beard hair softly touching your cheek, causing a wave of bliss to hit you, always gets him going. he knows you love hearing him praise you; his grunts are so delectable, a symphony with the percussion of him clapping tf outta your cheeks. as you whine like a lil bitch, they become guttural, like an alpha in his rut. the carnal passion of your heavier and rougher sessions reveal a callous side to his possessive nature. dangerous how much it turns you on.
words can’t really describe how much you love his stomach, happy trail adorning his belly, and riding him offers you the opportunity to see allat that on a platter. his smirk as he tries to contain his excitement that your his and only his.
on the topic of eye contact, you’re favourite mutual position is definitely missionary - your bf adores every inch of you. how your body becomes compliant. your hole crafted to take his big dick. the way it pierces through the walls of your pussy, massaging your gumminess. he sometimes drools from how lost he can be in the experience. ‘take my cock, yhhh baby, fuckkkk.’
slowing down his jack hammering pace, he’d lean forward with his low hanging balls rutting into you agonizingly slow.
‘you like that shit, huh baby? yeah? loving on my dick so well.’ whispering as he begins to mark your collarbone. then moving upwards onto your neck, massaging your previously pummeled throat as you looked up, desperate to kiss him. he exhales into your mouth, breathing life into you that he had taken away with his hard thrusts. his softness escaped as quickly as it arose, thrusting his entire load into you.
‘shit’ you scream as he laughs hoarsely, the rasp in his voice a melting honey.
in the same position, you love his cum face. something about how his eye and nose scrunch as he pants and grunt deeply. his beard ticking your chin. it also allows him to be vulnerable with you. he would hold your head cradling it with an affection rivalled only by how sweetly his tip kisses your prostate with each lengthy thrust. when he first enters, he’s checking to see if your okay, if you want more lube. you say no. legs just above his hips, you bring your hand to stroke his beard as he concentrates on directing his dick in a way that doesn’t make him cum immediately upon re entry.
‘i love you.’ you say getting all emotional from how well he’s treating you. ‘I love you too y/n.’ he leans down for more kisses as your hand now snakes around the back of his head.
he stops, letting you catch your breath, playing with your hair and caressing your face lovingly. your arms drop immediately at the warmth of his touch. he lifts and cradles your head, a delicacy opposing his rough demeanour.
‘I fucking love you,’ your bf grunts, placing forehead kisses, panting, as he starts moving faster. your legs now wrapped tightly around his abdomen like a vice. he plants both hands behind your head, balling his fists at either side of your head to create the perfect foundation to fuck you hard. brings one of his hands to cradle your hair and to bring your head closer to his. your temples meet ensuring that you’re so close and intimate. the man brings his body up, still inside you, collects your legs together, one leg on each shoulder holding onto the thick flesh of your upper thighs, allowing you to adjust, before toppling over onto you again to get deeper inside your pussy. later, moving his hands up to behind your knees, his rugged fingertips grip the flesh of your hamstrings.
your boyfriend brings his fingers up to stroke your cheeks and remove the hair sticking to your face. he’s growling at his need to go ham, but he exercises self-control as a means to take care of you. however, what he doesn’t realise is that his painfully slow strokes transport you to a utopia of bodily ecstasy.
he ABSOLUTELY loves seeing the imprint of his girthy cock in your stomach, pressing down on it to add to your respective pleasures. and when you both reach the top of the mountain, the visual of you being completely fucked out on his huge pole, as it protrudes through your stomach which is now decorated with your own personal release, makes him wanna rail you again. and again. until you pass out or his dick becomes limp. the latter would never happen because wherever you are, that cocks gonna be UP.
aftercare is so underrated with him. in his past relationships, it was usually a hit and quit it situation - his words not mine. thus he didn’t really know what to do at first. he’s so used to hookup culture, that he never bothered. but with you, he knew he had to change; one, because he knew you’d never let him near you again if he didn’t take care of you, but mainly two, because you were his and he had a responsibility to cherish you. considering you literally couldn’t walk and body was limp, your man needed to ensure you were taken care of. though he always reassures you, you make sure to do the same. the first time you spooned him he slept like a baby. BIG BOYS NEED CUDDLES TOO Y’ALL.
he gets really apologetic, constantly asking ‘did I go to rough.’ as he massages the bruises on your hips. sometimes feels guilty that he fucks you too hard. You put his mind at ease telling him that you do like it. your bubble butt and tight hole were made to take his cock.
this still doesn’t stop him from confessing to you; ‘baby, I’m so sorry.’ he kisses your skin. ‘when I see that ass if yours jiggle, it drives me crazy, I just can’t stop.’ it often leads to him overcompensating. as the his cum seeps out of your obliterated cunt. he just wants to make you feel safe. the same safety he feels when he’s with you.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅
tag list:
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qlossytbh · 8 months ago
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𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞? - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 where you find yourself with immense baby fever
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 baby fever, fem!reader, fluff fluff fluff, established relationship, reader and spencer are married, hotch x platonic!reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1.5k
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 so i imagined older spence but younger jack so pretend jack is around 3 or 4 but spence is like around season 7/8 (?)
𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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“All I’m saying, you could’ve been a little nicer,” You turned to Morgan with a rigid sigh. If he didn’t know you better, it’d probably sound like you were deeply annoyed with him, on the verge of cursing him out. He knew you were only regarding the events of today's case.
“I think you’re mixing ‘being nicer’ with tough love,” You deadpanned at your friend, earning nothing but his signature snicker.
You shook your head, feigning that of disappointment. You rolled your shoulder back, craning your neck slightly to scan the files that rested between your fingers. God, how many files could one see in a day?
It was a few hours past midday when the case came to an end. Hotch had a sudden dilemma that he needed immediate solving, so he told all of you to make it back to headquarters. You and Morgan however, had been stuck together for the day and made it back a lot earlier than the rest of the team, prompting the two of you to get some necessary paperwork done.
You needed a day off— especially from Morgan.
The bullpens doors opened unexpectedly, drawing you and Derek out of your conversation. You turned, seeing the rest of the team waltz through the glass door— only this time, they were accompanied by a pair of small legs.
You couldn’t stop a reflexive smile from growing onto your face. “Is that who I think it is?”
Jack waddled into the bullpen, one of his tiny fists bundled up onto a small section of Hotch’s dress pants. You could’ve screamed, a reaction that was becoming more necessary every time you saw a kid, and most definitely when you saw Jack.
At the sound of your cheery voice, Jack looked up, biting onto his knuckles— something you learned was a sign of his bashfulness.
But when he realized it was you who was standing next to Morgan, his face immediately morphed into one that could only portray pure and innocent child joy, looking as if he couldn’t be happier to see you. Nothing could compare to how ecstatic that made you feel, chest getting fuzzy with endearment. Hotch placed his palm onto the back of his head. “Look who it is!”
You've taken care of Jack too many times you lost count, given since you and Hotch were close— practically family. You adored Jack and found yourself being struck with some newfound motherly instinct when it came to him— or any kid for that matter. He always gave you this very violent need to squeeze his cheeks and hug him so tight he might pop.
“Is that little Jackie?” Your voice was high and welcoming, trying to hide how utterly joyed you were with seeing him and failing miserably. Jack immediately pushed himself off of Hotch’s leg and began running towards you.
Well, he more so waddled his way over to you, small feet pattering roughly against the floor as he ran over to you in an unstable line. You met him halfway, crouching down and opening your arms for him. When he was close enough, he launched himself into said arms, voice loud with giggles and shrieks. “If it isn’t my favorite boy!”
You squeezed him tightly, rising once again to your natural height and hugging the small toddler. Morgan, of course, didn’t miss a beat to taunt. “Careful, Reid’s listening.”
“Oh please,” You rested Jack on your hip, keeping strong secure arms around him while he gripped the ends of your hair curiously. “Spencer knows that Jack comes first no matter what, isn’t that right Jack?”
“Yeah!” He laughed.
Spencer couldn’t keep in a single thought as he watched you interact with Jack so naturally. It twisted his chest in weird, scary ways. If it were anyone else he’d be terrified. But it was you. And he now found his head lingering with the idea of you as a mother— the mother of his children, specifically.
It was a conversation the two of you had once, very briefly a few months after you two got married. Spencer had been meaning to get back at it, but with the chaos of your jobs it had been really hard to think about anything other than serial killer and criminals.
But fuck, if Spencer said that seeing you interact so carefully and sweetly with not only Jack but many other children that had stumbled up on these last few cases— he’d be the biggest liar on the face of this earth.
Just the thought of starting a family with you was something that filled him with anticipation. It made his chest burn. Something he craved so deeply, it sometimes left him breathless.
“You’re getting so big and strong that I’m beginning to have a hard time lifting you up.” You huffed, setting him down onto the ground and crouching beside him. “You’re gonna give me back problems.”
“Derek says it’s because you’re getting weak!” His R’s were disguised as muffles W’s, which only caused your heart to clench further. A choke disguised as a strained laugh left your mouth.
“Is that so?” You turned over to him with a glare. Morgan scratched the back of his head and turned on his heel avoiding you and your piercing gaze.
“But who’s your favorite; big old chiseled Derek, or little weak me?” You squint your eyes at the boy, pursing your lips feeling very confident in his answer.
And to no one’s surprise did Jack point towards you and with a huge, wide smile laughed out. “You!”
You laughed victoriously, holding out a palm for Jack to clap. “Yeah, that’s right!”
“Oh, come on,” Morgan groaned.
After one last hug from the child, you ushered Jack over to Hotch, shooting an endeared smile towards him. God, you loved that kid so much.
JJ, Prentiss and Rossi made their way to the conference room. You look ahead, meeting the gaze of your husband and smiling profusely. It was a subconscious reaction your body had. You found yourself meeting Spencer halfway. “Hey,”
His hand rested on your hip as he leaned down, kissing you chastly. Spencer would’ve loved to actually take his time greeting you with a much proper kiss, but it was a middle ground the two of you found between professionalism and well— being married.
His hand, however, remained on the spot on your hip, thumb drawing circles instinctively. It was subtle, but his touch was still there. Your smile was big and lovestruck, looking up at him with soft eyes. “Hey,”
Just as you opened your mouth to speak, Jack's laughter ripped through the air as Hotch lifted him up. You and Spencer turned and you swear you could almost cry.
It was as if lately, when you allowed yourself to think even slightly about the concept of children you’d combust into a pool of tears and overbearing endearment. Spencer watched you looking over at Jack and noticed something pooling beneath your eyes.
You looked back at Spencer, lips tied in a pout. “I want one.”
“A baby?” He tuned, laughing slightly at how your body sunk against his, resting your forehead on his chest in exasperation.
“Yes,” You pushed yourself off his chest, throwing your hands around as you spoke. “The small hands, small feet— I swear everytime I see a baby, I get violent.”
You pouted. “Imagine a mini us Spence,”
And Spencer did. He thought about it in such detail that he forgot it wasn’t an actual reality of his. A little girl or boy, that resembled either of you, that held so many fractions and traits of the two of you— it seemed unreal to him.
“A mini us?” He repeated. You looked up at him.
“Well— yeah,” You reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean, we haven’t really talked about it but..”
Spencer wanted kids more than he had ever wanted anything before— but he knew that he only wanted it if it was with you. He couldn’t phantom the thought of starting a family with anyone else.
“We should,” He spoke. Your fingers played mindlessly with the bottom of his tie, looking up at him with a teasing smirk.
“We should talk about it or we should try?” A blush crept up his cheeks as his eyes widened just slightly. You always found ways to catch him off guard and you loved getting even the slightest reaction out of him.
“Uh—“ He dragged out his words, before his eyes landed back on you. “Both?”
You laughed and he smiled. He always smiled when you laughed, he couldn’t stop himself from doing so. You reached down, tangling your fingers with his. “I’m serious though,”
He hummed. “So am I.”
“You actually want to start trying for a baby?” This seemed like a conversation that was far too intimate to be having in the middle of the bullpen— where you usually discussed varieties of atrocious things, but here you were I guess.
“Yeah,” He said, almost in disbelief that you had questioned it. You found yourself growing oddly shy, just thinking of a small version of the two of you running around.
Before you could continue on the subject, Morgan, who now held Jack on his shoulders, was calling you and Spencer over to the conference room. You turned to Spencer, smiling softly.
“Can we get back to this once we get home?”
“Please,” He breathed, leaning forward and pressing a longer kiss onto your lips. You grew giddy and smiled into the kiss, pulling away sooner than both of you would like.
“I love you,” You smiled. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and placed a loving kiss on your forehead.
“I love you.”
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cherrybr4t · 4 months ago
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lawyer!wonwoo (+18, mdni)
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A/N: thank you to the anon who requested for lawyer wonwoo! i have anth lawyer!wonwoo sitting in my docs—it’s more of a series/a smut w plot (lol) so that may be out a lil later, in the mean time, i hope you enjoy this! 💋
WARNINGS: smut, bdsm (hands tied), slight spanking, neck grabbing, unprotected sex, creampie, lots of ‘fuck’, lots of nicknames from wonwoo (princess, good girl), public(?) sex, lowk a messy turn of povs here n thr..dom!wonwoo, sub(ish)fem!reader W/C: 2.1k
lawyer!wonwoo was a great mentor to you, always willing to go the extra mile to help you—guide you through the mechanics of the big law firm, saying he’s doing what he ought to.
lawyer!wonwoo who always looks so goddamn hot in that white shirt with black tie, glasses perched on that tall nose of his; if not, hooked onto his shirt— top buttons undone when he’s feeling tired. (honorary mention of him pulling his tie loose when he’s feeling particularly frustrated or fired up)
lawyer!wonwoo who admires how hardworking you are, noting your raw talent for this line of work. his first glance at you—he thought you were stunning. looked like his ideal type built up from scratch. but—everyone in the office knows how professional wonwoo is, being the top performing lawyer in the firm. he pushes those thoughts away, but seeing how good you are at your job, he can’t help but let the feeling of admiration for you take over him.
lawyer!wonwoo who stays up with you late in the office, working hard on cases. late nights develop into getting food in the wee hours together, indulging in personal conversations. and neither of you can deny the chemistry that was boiling in those shared moments.
lawyer!wonwoo who always keeps a respectable distance because you’re attached. but the minute you cry to him about leaving behind that cheater boyfriend of yours, he’s determined to swoop in and prove to you—you’re worthy of much better. in fact, you were worthy of the whole world in his eyes.
lawyer!wonwoo who—on one of those late nights, decides to take that leap of faith when he finds you leaning in closer to him.
like magnets, he feels a pull towards your lips and he can’t pull away. not even if there were a hundred opposite forces pulling him away. it’s like he was meant to find those lips.
he kisses with fervour, conveying those months of hidden desire towards you. grabbing hold of your face, he seeks dominance by playing with your tongue, exploring every inch of your mouth and biting on your bottom lip.
“come here,” he pulls you onto his lap, guiding you to straddle him, which in turn causes your skirt to ride up. he traces his hands softly up your leg, before losing control and roughly grabbing on the side of your thighs.
“so fuckin’ pretty, can’t believe i have you here on my lap right now, better than anything i’ve imagined.” wonwoo groans, before crashing his lips against yours once again. you pull away, catching your breath, “you-you’ve thought about this?”
“you have no idea, princess. now you’re here sitting so prettily for me— all for me to play with now right?” he strokes the back of his index finger down your warm and red cheek, before settling a finger in between your lips.
“suck.” he says with such command in his voice. together with that stare of his, you gush in your panties, immediately taking in his fingers, sucking and licking around it, showing him how well you play with that tongue of yours.
removing his glasses with his other hand, he tosses it on the table before running his hand over his luscious black locks, cracking his neck and groaning. “fuck, driving me crazy and here you are just sucking on my finger,” you moan around his finger, shuffling around his lap.
“are you as eager for me as i am for you princess?” he pops his finger out, before reaching underneath your top to tug on your nipples with his soaked fingers.
gasping, you arch your back and nodded ardently, “wonwoo—wanna feel you,”
“yeah? gonna let me do whatever i want with you? be my pretty little obedient princess?” he hums and probes, already knowing the answer to that.
“yes—yes wonwoo, i’m all yours to play with, wanna be your good girl,” you breathe out, anticipating and pooling in your panties at every word out of that man’s mouth. he’s sin incarnated—and you’re willing to be the world’s greatest sinner.
he unbuttons your top, soaking in the sight of you and your pretty tits, giving them a few slaps before leaving behind marks on your mounds, “fucking love these,” he grabs them and flushes his face between them, taking his time to give each one proper care— sucking and biting to his heart’s content.
you can’t control the moans slipping out of you, not like you wanted to anyways. it’s 2am, not a single soul left in this building, and you were going to let wonwoo know just how good he’s making you feel.
scooping you up in one go, he carries you onto the sofa perched against the huge glass window overlooking the city.
“on your knees for me baby, look towards the window,” you place your arms on the sofa’s channel back, knees settling on the sofa itself, while you faced the city lights.
“good girl, look—you can even see me through the reflection, it’s a dark night isn't it princess,” he chuckles lightly before pushing your skirt up, leaving him face to face with your soaked panties.
the strain it causes in his pants makes him curse under his breath, before undoing his perfect tie in a haste. he grabs your left arm, before you finally understood what he meant to do through the reflection.
“may i, princess?” he takes a moment to ask sweetly, before you lay your head onto the backrest, placing your hands behind for him.
“all yours,”
“my good girl, let me know if it hurts kay?” he ties your hand up in a hurry, before focusing on the main meal. pushing your panties to the side, he plays with your slit teasingly, dancing his fingers along your slit, occasionally brushing your clit.
“wonwoo…”
he pushes a finger in, stretching out the soft walls. he curls his fingers, before going in at an inhumane speed, and you cry out. your mouth waters at how good his fingers feel fucking you incessantly. before you know it, he fits two fingers inside, and you swear you could cum on the spot at how full just his fingers make you feel.
“nnrggh, so..so good wonwoo, so good,” your mind fogs, all you can think about is the stretch of his fingers, how you want nothing more than to come undone on his pretty fingers.
“mmm, bet you could come right now can’t you, princess? hmm, but i only want you to come when i say so,” he smacks across your left butt cheek, causing you to twitch and cry out.
“ohh. look at this, you liked that didn’t you. tightening around my fingers, you’re holding onto them for dear life, princess,” a dark chuckle escapes him as he gives another strike across.
“my princess is a little slut too, isn’t she. likes it when i go rough on her,” he groans at how your cunt reacts immediately to every word he spits out.
before you could snap around his fingers, he pulls out, and you let out yet another cry—this one sounding of pain and betrayal though.
“wh-why? i’ve been a good girl wonwoo..” your voice cracks and wonwoo’s heart ached so bad he almost wanted to give in and give that clit a little suck.
“i know, i know princess, just wanted to make you cum around me, you want that don’t you? to cum around my cock? make it yours hm?” he caresses your cheek that has his hand print after two smacks.
you perked your head up, “fuck, yes..yes let me cum around you please. need it badly.”
“whatever my princess wants, she gets,” pants discarded on the floor, boxers next to it as he covers his cock with your slick, more than enough for him to be fully lubricated.
he pushes in inch by inch, and once he’s fully in, he pulls you up with a tight grip on your neck, before laying an arm across your shoulders to hold you in place.
he kisses behind your ear, “look at you princess, so fucking gorgeous aren’t you, so full of me, such a good girl for me,”
you moan at how big he is, how full he stretches you, your cunt hugs him so fucking tight, never wanting him to leave.
“fuck me hard, wanna be so full of you—of your cum wonwoo,” you croak out, leaving him with no choice but to of course— do as you wish.
he starts thrusting hard and slow, eliciting a cry out from you every time his tip hits that little gummy spot. “there! fuck, just right theree,” you drag out, filled with ecstasy at how close you already are; considering the orgasm denial you’ve just experienced.
he quickens, eager to feel you cum around him—he needs it, needs to feel you flutter your walls around him to feel complete.
“fuck thats it, taking my cock like a fucking champ. making this cock yours huh princess?” he says between breaths and moans, reaching his hand back to a tight grip around your neck.
his other hand making way from your hips to your clit, drawing out tight and fast circles, eager to bring you to your high.
looking at your reflection through the glass, you feel your knot tighten at how wonwoo looks. swear making his hair stick to his forehead, that determined and lustful look with his jaw out. he’s making you feel highs you’ve never experienced before.
“fuck wonwoo, gonna cum, fuck fuck fuck,” you ask for his permission to cum in desperate ‘fuck’s and high pitched moans that turn into cries halfway.
“you can cum for me now princess, let me see you fall apart around my cock, yeah, just like that,” he gives a final pinch on your nipples, slowing down his thrusts as he continues to flick at your clit.
“so fucking pretty when you cum for me, wanna see you cum for me again princess,” he gives you no break as he continues to ram into you, his cock now fully creamed and even more slippery as he goes maniacally.
“fuck, want you to cum with me this time,” he bites down on your shoulder, fingers back to drawing figures on your swollen clit. you feel so sensitive, every touch every thrust makes you cry out—until you feel actual tears of pleasure running down your cheeks.
“fuuuuck, baby you’re gonna make me cum so fucking hard, i’m almost there,”
“can’t wait anymore wonwoo,” you cry out in your pretty voice, which makes his balls grow even tighter as he feels the blood rush to his tip, and he knows he’s about to spill over.
“cum with me princess, gonna fill you up so fucking full as you-as you fuck cum around me—” his sentence ends in a long dragged out groan as he shoots his load inside of you, filling you full as he promised as you convulsed around him.
he kisses your cheek as you both catch your breaths; before he slowly—and gently unties your wrist and removes his cock as he watches the amount of cum spill out of your hole.
“you did so well for me, princess. my good girl. took so much of my cum, basically made me yours,” he smiles smugly before laying you down on the couch, giving you a gentle peck on your lips.
“gonna order in some ramen from that 24-hour store, and some lemon soda that you like. gonna grab a blanket too, we can lay here for a while—eat up before we head back to mine princess?” he suggests while looking at you so lovingly you swear hearts are coming out of his eyes.
lawyer!wonwoo insists that you both take off from work tomorrow too. you need the rest, he would say. and you find yourself giggling and agreeing to whatever he says.
lawyer!wonwoo who now; not only is your mentor, but your boyfriend who adores you so much. he believes in you so much, and you both push each other to be the best at work, while being back to your cuddly selves in the comfort of your homes.
a true power couple indeed 👀 i hope yall liked this ahdkkdkd !!!!!! i hope to get the original piece of lawyer!wonwoo i wanted out soon 🫦 but for now!! leave a like/comment/rb if you liked this <3 MUAH XOXO
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fairyhaos · 7 days ago
Text
◈ endearingly // lee dokyeom
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dokyeom x f!reader, 1.6k+ words
tags: pet names, fluff, angstier than i thought it would be??, established relationship, idolverse, soonhoon cameo + jeonghan cameo
notes: ib a convo i had with an irl ab pet names!! sorry nb/male carats but this only worked with f!yn :(
summary: in which you hate pet names, but your boyfriend loves them. nevertheless, the two of you manage to make it work.
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“Darling?”
“No.”
“Babe.”
“Ew.”
“Honey.”
“I’m not food.”
“Sweetie?”
“I’m literally not food, Seokmin.”
“Aw, come on,” your boyfriend, Seokmin, pouts sadly at you and then promptly faceplants onto your bed in a dramatic display of his distress. “Why can't I call you a pet name? Why don’t you like any of them?”
Sitting cross-legged at the head of your bed, you watch amusedly as Seokmin begins flailing about like a fish throwing a tantrum into your sheets before you. He groans, flips onto his back and stares up at you through his eyelashes, forehead wrinkling as he strains to look at you from his upside-down position.
“Is there really nothing that you like?”
You sigh, leaning back against the headboard. “They’re all so cringy, Seokmin. It makes me feel all… icky.”
Honestly, after six months of dating, it was inevitable that a conversation about this was bound to come up eventually. You're surprised he hasn't called you any pet names until now, but he mostly sticks to saying your name in the most enamoured tone possible, and it's only after the small incident a few hours ago that it's finally happened. The talk on your dislike of such terms of endearment. 
Seokmin sits upright, scrambling around so he can face you. “It’s just because you’re not used to them, I promise,” he says earnestly. "Once you start hearing them a lot, they become really cute!”
You shake your head. “No. Trust me, I really don’t like them at all. They feel really… objectifying. And I know you never mean it like that, but it still makes me feel all bad inside.” Seokmin's face falls, and you wince apologetically. “Sorry. That was probably a really weird thing to say. I'm sorry. It just makes me feel uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s okay,” Seokmin says. “I get it. And if it makes you feel uncomfortable, I won’t use them, don't worry about it.” He smiles brightly, and you pout placatingly, patting him on the head. 
“Sorry. I shouldn't have said that so harshly.”
“No, no, it's fine, trust me,” Seokmin reassures. “And it's not harsh. It totally explains why you reached the way you did earlier, so it's all okay. For realsies. I swear.”
But even as he says so, he’s still pouting profusely, head hung like a dejected puppy, and you wonder why this is getting to him so much. 
Seokmin is big on feelings, big on emotions, but he’s also getting better at handling the negative stuff. And normally, only significant things like acts of injustice or cruel words towards his loved ones will have him upset in this way, so you’re honestly quite confused.
This whole predicament arose earlier that afternoon, when you’d popped your head into the studio that Seokmin had told you he was working in, only to find him immersed in songwriting with Jihoon and Soonyoung.
That hadn’t been a problem, and you’ve walked into studios numerous times to find your boyfriend immersed in something with the other guys, but it’s the first time that what happened next had occurred—
Seokmin’s eyes had lit up when he saw you hovering in the doorway, and he waved you over with a grin.
“Hey!” he’d said, gesturing for you to come in. “Didn’t expect to see you here so early, baby.”
And at the pet name attached to the end of that sentence, you’d cringed immensely and physically recoiled, as if the term had literally grown arms and smacked you across the face.
The change in atmosphere had been instant, both Jihoon and Soonyoung looking confused at your demeanour.
“What is it?”
You couldn’t look Soonyoung in the eye even as he voiced his question, too embarrassed by your extreme reaction. “Sorry. I just. I don’t really like being called—that.”
Too busy looking at the floor, you didn’t notice the way Seokmin’s face fell also, but you could hear it in his tone.
“Oh… I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t know.”
The conversation had ended soon after that, with Seokmin promising he’ll be done soon and urging you to just wait at home. There had been no point in hanging around, especially with how stifling the studio had suddenly become. And true to his word, Seokmin came straight over to your house some minutes later, and then the subject had come up once again, and here you were.
It can’t be because of the embarrassment of it happening in front of his bandmates, you decide. If anything, you feel more embarrassed and ashamed for reacting so harshly. 
But Seokmin looks so dejected, even as he tries to wipe away his pout and leans over to snuggle into your side, burrowing into the space between your shoulder and your neck.
“Sorry,” you say again, because you're not sure how to fix this. “If you like them, then I guess I can get used to it…?”
Seokmin's shaking his head before you can even finish. 
“No, if it makes you uncomfortable, of course I don't want to use them,” he says. He reaches over to where your hands rest in your lap, beginning to fiddle with your fingers with his own. “I'm not sad about it. It's okay.”
You pout down at the top of his head, even though he can't see you. “Yes you are, Seokmin. What's wrong?”
He doesn't say anything, continuing to play with your fingers. When you close your hands into fists, preventing him from fiddling anymore, he whines in protest, taking his head off your shoulder to look at you petulantly. 
“Please tell me what's wrong, Seokmin,” you say, instead of giving in to the puppy eyes he's making at you. “I can tolerate the pet names if it means a lot to you, really. I promise it'll be okay.”
Seokmin hesitates, and then looks away, shoulders shrinking inwards. 
“It's just. I wanna call you something special. Like, your name is so pretty, and I love it, but I wanna be able to say something cute and unique that's just for me when I wanna call you over or whatever,” Seokmin admits. 
He looks up at you, just briefly, before he looks down at the bedding again, cheeks pink. 
“Some days, I can't even believe you're dating me. I can't believe I'm this lucky. And I just… wanted to call you something that could affirm that. And pet names seemed an easy way to show how lucky I feel to be with you. Shows how much I love you, you know?”
Your eyes widen. The L-O-V-E word hasn't come up between the two of you yet, but—after a relationship of six months, and a friendship that's been going strong for many years before this, perhaps it's not so surprising. 
It's definitely not surprising that Seokmin's said it first, though. He's always been big on feelings. 
(You love him for it.) 
“Oh,” you say softly, heart melting at his shy, sincere admission. “I feel the same way,” you say, and Seokmin looks up at you, eyes wide and hopeful. 
“You like me that much? You're willing to let me call you a pet name?”
“I love you,” you correct, smile widening. “And… well, I think we can work something out.”
───────────── ‘🧴, 
“So then what happened?” Jeonghan asks after you finish recounting your story to him over the phone. His face is slathered in some clay mask and in the blurry connection of the video call, he looks like a green-skinned, peeling zombie. 
You smile, shrugging. “We worked it out,” you say, sitting down at your sofa, phone propped on your knees so you can talk to Jeonghan better. “He's not calling me anything like baby or sweetie, but we're both happy with it.”
“He'll honestly be happy with anything,” Jeonghan says dryly. “He loves everything about you. You could say you want him to call you “boulder” and he'll agree.”
That makes you laugh. “No, he wouldn't. That's silly.”
“Trust me. He'd do it.”
“Lies.”
“Why don't you ask him and find out?”
There's the distinct pattern of beeps as someone inputs the passcode to your door, and then the telltale melody of the passcode being inputted correctly. You look up as the door opens, and Seokmin steps through, making you smile. 
“Speak of the devil,” you say, in Jeonghan's direction. “Seokmin just came home.”
“Hey there, girlfriend,” Seokmin greets you with a smile, coming over to kiss you on the forehead before peering at your screen. “Oh, is that Jeonghan hyung?”
“Hey there, boyfriend,” you greet back, smiling up at him. “It is. I was telling him about our new nickname system.”
“Oh!” Seokmin's face breaks out into a wider grin. “Well. It was your idea, so I'll leave you to it, my girlfriend. I'm all sweaty, though, so I'm off to shower first. Tell him I said hi!”
“Just say hi to me yourself, ” Jeonghan says amusedly. "I can hear you."
You laugh at Jeonghan's response, pecking Seokmin on the cheek before he moves off in the direction of the bathroom. 
“Welcome home, my boyfriend.”
“That's cute,” Jeonghan comments, once Seokmin has left the room. “He calls you girlfriend.”
You smile, and you know how heart-sickeningly in-love you look right now, but it doesn't even matter. 
“He does. The whole thing with pet names was just the idea of specialness between us, and the girlfriend and boyfriend thing do it quite well. Without making it sound like he's talking to a teddy bear. It's cute, right?”
Jeonghan hums. “I dunno. Teddy bears are pretty cute.” But then he smiles, all real and genuine and cracking the edges of his clay mask as he does. “I was right, though. He just loves everything about you.”
“Yes, he does,” you say, overflowing with fondness. “Good thing I love everything about him too.”
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fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit @dokyeomkyeom @hopeless-foolery
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nerdy-novelist017 · 7 months ago
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i'm so in love with your little bunny series and i'm so glad you're writing for benny! i was wondering if you could write something about reader being a yapper, always talking a lot about things with so much excite and benny finds this the most cutest thing ever, but one day someone says that she's annoying for that, which makes her feel very self conscious and she starts to think that benny might feel the same since he's a very much quiter person, and benny assures her that is not the case? just fluffy and comfort to warm my heart <3 thank you already!
Anon, this is literally the cutest request ever omg!!! Thank you for the request, I had so much fun writing this! I paired this as another one shot for my Benny x Bunny series, hope you enjoy!
Word Count- 2k+
Summary- See request above.
Sweet Talking (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)
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You pressed a kiss to Benny’s cheek, whispering to him that you’d be right back as you stood and made your way around the bonfire. You pulled Benny’s jacket tighter around you to fend off the chilly evening air on your trek back to the house. The night was still young, the sun having just set an hour ago and these bikers would be up until the sunrise, all having caught their second wind from the race held earlier in the fields. The loudness of the bikes and the sheer excitement from the crowds was something you were still trying to get used to, but you found that you actually liked talking to these people. Once they included you in their conversations and picked topics that you could relate to as well, you found yourself talking a lot more than you ever have in your life. They laughed at your jokes, they called out to you when they saw you approaching, they really seemed to just adopt you into their club. You supposed, in the beginning, a majority of that was from Benny probably intimidating some members into being nice to you, but regardless of that, they still seemed to enjoy your company and your silly stories and random facts – especially the women of this club. 
Stepping through the back door, you were immediately greeted by the scent of cigarette smoke and booze, things you were also still trying to get used to. Several members were lounging on the couch, smoking and talking as you passed them on your way to the kitchen. You went to the fridge, opening it and lowering yourself to search for a cold pop for yourself. Voices filtered into your vicinity from the adjacent dining room. Just as you grab another beer for Benny, your ears perked up when you heard your name being said in passing and you froze behind the refrigerator door. 
“–She does have a sweet piece of ass on her though,” a male voice, sounding muffled most likely by a cigarette hanging from his lips. You smiled to yourself, biting your lip. You probably shouldn’t be listening to this, but curiosity rooted you to your spot as you tried peeking over the door to catch a look at who was speaking. 
“Jesus Christ, you can’t get her to shut up anymore.” another voice replied, much deeper and raspier than the first. “I miss when she would just stand there shaking like a leaf, all nervous and quiet.”
“Would it even be worth it to hit that? C’mon man, she’d gab your fucking ear off during it, totally kill the mood for me.”
Your smile slowly at their words, heart sinking. You should get up and leave, you told yourself. But you couldn’t force your legs to move.
“I’d put that mouth of hers to work on something else,” the first man said, chuckling darkly. You squeezed your eyes shut at the insinuation. 
“Don’t know how Benny–boy puts up with it. I’d have to gag her just to hear myself think–”
You stand abruptly, unable to listen to anymore of their hurtful words. Using a bit more force than you intended, you slammed the fridge door shut, the glass bottles rattling harshly inside from the force. Tears stung your eyes as you rushed back through the living room to the backdoor. You paused once you rounded the side of the house, sniffing in order to keep the tears at bay. They were just drunk assholes, you tried to tell yourself. Who cares what they think of you? 
But a few traitor tears escaped your lashes at the thought of Benny finding you annoying too. Benny– that quiet, easy-spoken man who you loved with everything in you. That quiet man who maybe didn’t like how you squealed with excitement when you saw someone you knew from across the room. That quiet man who maybe didn’t like when you giggled loudly at jokes told around the bonfire. That quiet man who was your exact opposite.
******
Benny could tell there was something wrong the second you came into view again, your figure illuminated by the orange flames of the bonfire as you moved to sit back down by him. Your hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket, head tucked low. And beside him? It was rare that you didn’t sit on his lap anymore. 
You handed him a beer and he tried to catch your eyes because was that tears he saw coating your lashes? But you avoided his gaze, instead curling into his side and that’s how you stayed for the rest of the night, quiet as a mouse, until you eventually tugged on his sleeve and asked if you could go home. The ride home was also weird. You didn’t tap his shoulder and point to things that interested you like you normally did on the back of his bike. You stayed glued to his back, silent. 
Benny watched, brow furrowed, as you went about your nighttime routine in silence, the house you shared no longer filled with your usual chatter. He sat on the edge of the bed, wracking his brain with the possibilities of you being upset with him. (The silent treatment was often a go-to method of torture you used when Benny pissed you off) but he was at a loss. Something had to have happened when you left the bonfire. Anxiety spiked through him at the thought that maybe someone had done something to you, but no, you would have told him. He made you promise to always talk to him if someone at the club was bothering you. 
You changed into your nightgown and Benny’s heart squeezed at the sight of you avoiding his gaze once again as you turned and began brushing out your pin curls in the mirror. 
“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked, unable to bare another second of your silence. 
“Mh-hm.” Came your short reply.
Benny swallowed. You were definitely upset. “You seem . . . quiet.”
That was definitely the wrong thing to say because you’re shoulders stiffened for a moment and he thought you might turn around and throw your brush at him. But instead, you responded in a small voice, “Just tired.”
He frowned. He’d seen you when you were tired, this was something else. He tried a different tactic. “Tell me about your day, Bunny.” 
You shrugged. “Not much happened.”
“Well, tell me about it. I wanna hear it.” He tried to catch your eyes as you put the brush down and stepped away from the vanity.
“Well, maybe I don’t wanna talk about it? I just want to go to bed, Benny.” you tried to move past him to go to your side of the bed but Benny reached out gently tugged on the hem of your nightgown, stopping you.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, looking up at you. 
You nodded, but still refused to make eye-contact.
“What’s wrong?” he questioned. “Did someone do something to you tonight?”
You shook your head quickly and relief swept through him. “No, no. Nothing like that.”
His hands slid up to your hips and he pulled you closer to him. “Talk to me, Bunny. Please. I don’t understand what’s wrong.”
You swallowed, chin wobbling slightly. “Nothing happened . . . I just–I overheard some guys talkin’ is all.”
He remained silent and you continued hesitantly. “When I went to get a drink . . . they didn’t know I was there. And–and I should have left as soon as I heard them talking but . . .”
“What were they saying?”
You clenched your jaw and gave him a distressed look. 
He squeezed your hips encouragingly. “What were they saying?”
“It doesn’t matter–”
“It does to me,” he was quick to say. 
“They . . . they were talkin’ about how I talk . . . a lot. They said it was annoying. They were saying crude things about using my mouth for . . . other things.” you said slowly, voice wavering and you looked down in embarrassment.
Benny nodded and breathed out of his nose, counting to ten in his head to cool his suddenly white hot anger which bloomed in his chest. He had worked so hard to get you to feel comfortable around the club, to get you to come out of your shell and now someone had something to say about his girl—his sweet shy girl—talking? “Who was it?”
“Oh, Benny–” You pulled back from him. “Don’t go saying anything to them!”
“Why not?” He planned to do much more than talk to them.
“Because!” you cried, your voice going an octave higher. “That would make it worse! Besides, they’re–they’re right anyway.”
“Right about what?” he asked, bewildered at how they could possibly know you like he did.
“Well, I do talk a lot. A–and I know it can be annoying for someone who’s a lot more quiet.” 
“Annoying?” He laughed at the inaccuracy of that statement and you must have thought he was laughing at you because you took a big step back from him, out of his reach.
“I just don’t want to embarrass you,” you murmured, looking down at the carpet below you. 
Benny’s stomach fluttered apprehensively. There had been only a few times in his life where he wished he was better at talking, at communicating his feelings. He wanted to console you, to reassure you, that you could never be annoying or embarrassing to him. He wanted to tell you just how much you gave him purpose and helped him in his life. How you were his life. This was one of those times. 
He rose from the bed and approached you passively, trying to gather his thoughts. “I like when you talk. When we spend the day apart, I look forward to hearing about your day and what you did and what you saw while I was gone. And when we’re riding and you point to the little things like the flowers on the sidewalk or the sunsets, I like that. I really like that. And when you tell stories, you get so immersed and you start talking with your hands, I like that too. You’re so friendly to everyone, no matter what they look like or how well you know them and that’s one of my favorite things about you. You talkin’ could never embarrass me, Bunny, because it’s one of the reasons I love you.”
Tears welled up in your doe-eyes and he swallowed nervously. “Why are you crying?”
Suddenly, you were pressed so tightly to his chest, face burying into his shirt, hands holding onto him with such grip that Benny stumbled. He recovered quickly, wrapping his arms around your small frame.
“Oh, Benny,” you choked up. “You’re so sweet!” 
He wasn’t so sure about that, maybe only when it came to you. He sure as hell wasn’t going to be so sweet to those guys that spoke about you like that. He’d take a trip tomorrow to visit them personally, but for tonight, he belonged to you. He’d discovered that about himself from your relationship, from you. Even though he wanted to do things right when he wanted to, he couldn’t always. That’s what love was, putting others’ needs before your own. And tonight, you needed him, so he would be here.
His hands found your jaw and he tilted your head back to press a kiss to your forehead. “Will you come lay with me and tell me about your day?”
You nod, sniffing and Benny nearly melted at the smile you gave him. That was the smile he’d come to recognize as the one you had reserved for only him. Soft, sweet and totally perfect in every way. He pulled you gently back to bed and relished as you curled up against him. His heart was filled with warmth as he listened to you chatter on about your day and your friends and your thoughts, anything that came to mind. He’d ask questions every once in a while to keep you going, but he mostly stayed quiet, because to him, you were so captivating and cute. You both talked throughout the night, you slowly getting lower and lower into his side until finally falling asleep, your conversation temporarily paused until the morning.
-Tag List-
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luveline · 8 months ago
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hi love! i absolutely adore ur writing and u should be so so proud of it. anyway i was just thinking about coworker james when readers car wont start in the parking lot and he like takes a look at it and is under the hood and reader is just like "oh...😍" cause the muscles are OUT and shes down bad
ty lovely 💌 fem
“Oh,” you say, “of course.” 
You drop your face into your steering wheel and sigh. An annoyed burst of sound, not cute or feminine or fun, a grunt of defeat. This sucks. Work sucks, life sucks, your car not starting is the least of your worries and yet somehow the most prevalent. 
How am I gonna get home? you think to yourself, defeated.
“Hey!” someone calls. Jogging, the last person you want to see in the world right now stopping at your door. James frowns at you. “It’s not starting?” 
You pop your door, careful not to pop him at the same time. “How’d you know?” 
“I heard the engine turn over.”
“It’s making a clicking sound,” you say, twisting the key so he can hear it. 
“It’s dead, probably. Your battery.”
James has an odd way of talking occasionally, as though you’ve started a conversation and he’s adding onto it. Remus says it's ADHD. You like it no matter what it is and despite yourself —it’s getting harder to pretend you don’t like him. Like, you hate him, he’s annoying beyond explanation, but your more positive feelings for him are heavy and ever present. So, so heavy.
“I’ll pull my car up and we can give it a jumpstart,” he says. “Easy fix.” 
“You don’t have to go?” 
���What?” 
“You have rugby today.” 
“Oh, no, it's the off season now.” He smiles and you don’t get why. “Let me go get the car.” 
James jogs back to his car and brings it next to yours. Everybody who isn’t Human Resources or security has left already, leaving the car park practically empty, ample room for him to park beside you. He gets back out. 
“I don’t have, uh, cables,” you say.
James gives you a smile that is as patronising as it is attractive. “Don’t worry about it, beautiful. I have everything you need.” 
He feels along the edge of your hood, pops the seal, pushes it up into the air, and hooks the prop rod into place. He’s clearly done it before, and the whole while you’re watching his arm. His rolled sleeves draw attention to the tightness at his bicep, and the moving ligament and muscle of his tricep as he leans into the engine to look things over. “I’m no mechanic, but I do know everything, and I thought maybe things were a bit hot but your engine’s stone cold.” 
“So it’s definitely the battery?” 
“Probably.” He scratches his jaw, peering curiously into the guts of it all. “When was the last time somebody looked in here?” he asks, squinting at you, unaware that he’s the finest thing you’ve ever seen. 
Your breath gets caught. 
“Have you ever had it looked at?” he asks, concerned. 
“I… maybe I did. I think so.” 
“You’re supposed to have it looked at every year? For MOT?” 
“I know, I thought you meant before that.” He’s distracting.
James looks you over. “It’s fine,” he says emphatically, “even if I can’t fix your battery, I can still drive you home. You’re panicking for no reason.” 
“Right.” Panicking! Yes, this is panic.
“Listen, can you get the jump leads from my boot? I have to open the hood.” He gestures for you to go. You do as he’s asked, wobbly, and struggle when you get there to actually open it. You slides your fingers under his car's emblem and flinch as it flies up past your face. 
His boot is surprisingly well organised. There’s a duffel bag to one side half-zipped that showcases a flash of red and white uniform, a pair of formal shoes, a dark jacket folded and hidden behind the bag. You want to be nosey and you don’t want him to think you’re stupid. You rush to grab the cables and almost clip yourself on the boot as you duck from under the boot and round the car. 
James smiles when he sees you. No indication that you’re an imposition, it’s sort of like you’re two friends. 
He pushes his sleeves farther up and digs in. It’s awful, what business does he have looking so sharply put together? You hadn’t thought you were preferential to muscle until right this moment watching James move around your engine like an expert. 
“What are your plans tonight?” 
Your palms are hot behind your back. “I was thinking I’d watch a new movie.” 
“That sounds fun.” He ducks away from the engine. “I don’t watch many movies.”
“What do you do with all your time?” 
“Argue with Sirius about who’s turn it is to wash the dishes.” 
You startle. “You and Sirius live together?” 
James laughs and pulls the leads to his own engine. “You didn’t know that?” 
“You come in different cars.” 
“I come in much earlier than he does. And after work he and Remus always have things to do. It’s weird, isn’t it, how couples are always busy? I feel like I never do anything.” James grins at you. “This is interesting, at least. My Friday night isn’t a total waste.” 
James gets into his car and you into yours. With some fiddling, pleading, and a strange noise, he manages to push life back into your car. His smile when it works is his worst one to date, elated and shockingly handsome. 
That Monday, against your better judgement, you bring him a little carrot cake in a tin. A thank you card felt like too much. 
To his credit, he doesn’t brag to anyone that he saved you. He says thank you for the cake with another real smile, and for some reason, despite the mild weather, he rolls his sleeves up at his desk. Almost like he noticed you…
Well, he couldn’t have. Right?
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lulunothulu · 5 months ago
Text
Okay but imagine…
A drunk Jake “Hangman” Seresin
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Your call-sign: Sparrow
“Ohhh, Y/N!” You hear from behind you.
You turn away from the conversation you were having with Natasha and Bob to see your best friend and roommate, Jake, stumbling over to you.
“Jake,” you smile up at him.
“Did you know your hair looks so pretty in the light?” He asks.
“No, but I can imagine,” you grin up at him, looking behind him to see an equally smiley Bradley and Javy. “Do you need some water?”
Jake only shakes his head, finishing off his beer and wrapping his arms around you in a bear hug. “What I need is a kiss.”
“A kiss?” You ask, heart pounding in your chest.
Jake nods, leaning in close to your ear. He whispers, “I think your lips would be the softest most beautifulest lips I’ve ever wanted to kiss.”
A blush creeps up your neck, you’d wanted to kiss him yourself for the past few years but was scared to ruin the friendship.
Now that Jake was basically admitting that he wanted to kiss you, you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter. That was, until you remembered that he is absolutely drunk, and there was no way that he could actually want to kiss you. 
“Let’s get you home,” you tell him instead. “Let me finish my water and we’ll get out of here.”
“Nooo!” He whines. “I wanna stay here and kiss you in front of everyone.”
You finish your water, turning to face Jake with a fake frown and hands on your hips.
Jake’s sage green eyes light up in delight. “You look so hot when you do that.”
You glance around the group, watching as they smirk and stifle down laughs. Eyes falling on Bradley, you smile. “Thank you for volunteering to help me bring Bagman here to his car.”
“Fuck,” Bradley mutters.
Bradley helps you grab one of Jake’s arms and pull him toward the exit, Jake talking your ear off.
“Sparroooooow,” Jake says to your left. “You’re so soft! How do you do that?”
“It’s called a shower loofah,” you chuckle.
“And you smell sooooo nice,” he goes on. On the other side of him, Bradley laughs earning him middle finger from you. “Bradshaw, Rooster my boy, leave my girl alone. She’s mine!”
Bradley looks over at you, a smirk on his mustached lips. “Oh, is she now?”
“Yup!” Jake says, lips popping at the ‘P’. “She’s mine, but she doesn’t know it…so don’t tell her.”
Jake turns to you on his right and drawls, “What’s up, Y/N?! I didn’t see you there!”
“I’ve been here the whole time,” you groan, trying to unlock his truck to put him in the passenger seat.
“Do I get to be a passenger princess tonight?” He asks Bradley.
“It looks like it, man,” Bradley laughs.
“I’m gonna be the prettiest princess ever!” Jake exclaims, causing you and Bradley to exchange looks and try to choke down your laughs.
Jake focuses on you before adding, “Actually, my Sparrow here is the prettiest princess I’ve ever met and seen.”
“Okay,” you say, hoisting yourself over Jake’s lap to cock the seatbelt in place. “Let’s get you home.”
Before you can get off his lap, Jake wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. You’ve been close to him before, but this feels different.
He’s warmer than normal—which says a lot because Jake is a furnace. His eyes are bloodshot and glossy, making his green eyes appear even more green with a mix of blue. His face is clear, save for the blush on his checks from the alcohol.
Behind you, Bradley clears his throat. You turn in time to see him take a picture of you and smile. “I just want a picture to show your future kids.”
“Bradley…” you squint.
“Our kids?!” Jake exclaims excitedly. “Are you pregnant?!”
“Bradshaw!” You scold. “Look what you started!”
Jake is crying—still holding you—and touching your belly. “I’m gonna be a daddy!”
Bradley only laughs. “Have fun, mommy!”
“I hate you,” you mutter as you scramble out of Jake’s arms and around to the driver’s seat.
———
By the time you pull into the driveway of yours and Jake’s bungalow, Jake has calmed down—and sobered up—enough to get out of his seat and walk alongside you to the front door.
The night is quiet, warm air blowing around you both like a warm blanket fresh from the dryer. You’re about to unlock the front door when you feel Jake’s eyes on you. Turning, you face him. His eyes are unreadable but his face gives himself away.
He remembers what he said fifteen minutes ago.
“Y/N,” he starts. “I’m sorry I ruined your night.”
You sigh, unlocking the door and pushing the door open. “You didn’t ruin my night.”
Jake gestures for you to enter the house first before following you inside. You feel him watching as you kick your shoes off and line them on the wall closest to the table in the entryway.
When you look up at him, you see a blush creep up his neck and ears.
“What?” You ask.
“I wasn’t lying when I said you’re the prettiest person I’d ever seen,” he whispers. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Now it’s your turn to blush. You weren’t a bad looking person, but you never considered yourself to be the prettiest person in the world, much less Jake’s world.
You’d watched him flirt and pick up all sorts of beautiful women for the past few years. And never once did you think he’d find you equally attractive.
“Sure, Jake,” you mutter, beginning to turn away.
He stops you, grabbing your arm and twirling you to face him. He’s pulled you close to his body, warm and muscular.
Jake tilts your head to face him before saying, “I’m serious. Why do you think I haven’t been bringing so many girls over?”
It’s been a few months since you’d seen him with any women but that never clicked in your brain until now.
“So you’re saying you haven’t brought women over because you’ve been thinking of…me?” You clarify.
“That’s exactly it.”
“You’re drunk,” you tell him. “If you remember tomorrow morning, tell me you mean it.”
To your surprise, Jake smiles down at you. “I’ll remember.”
———
The next morning, Jake is in the kitchen making you both some French toast and bacon—the scent alone waking you from your sleep.
The sight of him dancing to “The Man” by The Killers makes you want to smile. He’s so carefree around you. That’s what drew you in to him when you first met.
Sure he was flirty, but as soon as you two got to know one another, he dropped the playboy act and was just…Jake.
“Are you making french toast?” You ask, laughing when Jake practically jumps a foot in the air.
“You scared the shit out of me,” he chuckles, grabbing his chest. “And yes, I’m making french toast with bacon.”
“Extra crispy for me?” You ask, jumping to sit on the counter next to him.
“Extra crispy for you,” he replies, a smile plastered on his handsome face.
“Cool.”
You watch for a bit as he finishes up the last of the bacon and french toast, admiring the way he relaxes to the beat of the next song playing on the speaker behind him. He’s nodding his head and mouthing the song, “Rock You Like A Hurricane”, while he places some pieces of bacon on a plate.
When he glances your way, he flashes you a quick smirk before opening your legs and stepping between them.
“What’re you doing?” You ask, hesitantly placing your hands on your lap.
Jake grabs your hands, wrapping them around his neck before placing his own on your hips.
Your heart is racing, every part of your body is vibrating under his touch—his gaze really—on you.
“Y/N,” he starts, looking uneasy. “I think you’re the prettiest person I’ve ever met and seen. I think you’re the sweetest person in my life and I think—no, know—that I have feelings for you. I only realized a few months back when I saw Bradley’s arm around your waist that I don’t want other people touching you.”
“Jake—”
“Let me finish,” he interrupts with a smile. “Deep down, I think I always knew you were the woman for me. I think that’s why I always tried to distract myself with other women but now that I finally realize it…”
Jake takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering a bit before they lock on yours again.
“I’m never letting you go.”
He watches you for a second, trying to read your face and you can’t help but smile after a bit.
“Jake,” You start. “I was just gonna tell you that I feel the same way.”
The smile on Jake’s lips widens before he pulls you in for a kiss. Soft and full of joy, you kiss him back.
He pulls away to look over your face before pecking you again and saying, “Now, let’s go eat so I can have dessert after.”
“Dessert?” You ask, brows knitted. “I don’t see anything out.”
“Who said it was food?”
AHHHHHH NOBODY TOUCH ME LOL anyway… check out my Masterlist!!! 💗💗
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f1goat · 9 months ago
Text
not a chance + lando norris (one shot)
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In which Lando thinks he's going to win a race, to which you tell him the chances of you two fucking are as low as him winning a race - so what happens when he wins?
lando norris x fem!sainz reader tw: smut + not proof read (as usual)
masterlist - playlist
“I think this is going to be my day,” Lando tells your brother, Carlos, with a confident tone in his voice. “Maybe I’ll actually win today.”
You can’t help yourself and let out a soft laugh. “As if,” you mutter softly. You don’t expect anyone to pay attention to you, let alone hear your comment, but while looking at Lando you’re quick to realize that he did hear you. He is sending you an annoyed glare, while Carlos tries to tell you without words that you should shut up. Bit too late for that now. 
“Don’t believe me babygirl?” Lando asks you. The earlier confidence in his voice has disappeared and made place for a sarcastic tone, one Lando only uses with you. “Nope,” you say, making sure that you’re popping the p. 
“I’m not doing this again,” Carlos sighs while looking at his little sister and one of his best friends. Lando and you both know what he’s talking about, but neither of you is backing away. Lando is even getting closer towards you. “I’ll see you later,” Carlos continues, “hopefully after the two of you finally fixed the fucking sexual tension between you two.” 
It’s not a secret that Lando and you don’t like each other. You don’t know how it happened, where you were once almost as close with him as Carlos, things changed between you two. Friendly conversations changed into sarcastic, mean remarks meant to hurt to other one. Meeting up when Carlos couldn’t join changed into only seeing each other when Carlos dragged the both of you in the same place. Always texting with each other, sending memes towards each other eventually changed into ignoring each other on every social platform. 
Whatever happened to cause the change between Lando and you, has never been clear to you. Sometimes you blame yourself for taking a bit more distance when Lando got his first girlfriend, but eventually it was Lando who really changed his attitude towards you. Sometimes you miss how it was before, or better said every time you see Lando you miss how it was before. Even if you were fighting your feelings for him, it was better then acting like you hate him. Of course you don’t hate Lando, how could you - especially after crushing on him for the longest time. 
Your phone vibrates in your hand, you look at the text that’s coming in. It’s from Carlos. When you’re done toying with Lando, I’m at Ferrari. Saved you a seat. You should go to him now, that would be the smart thing to do. But Lando is still standing closely in front of you. Carlos believes that something else is going on between Lando and you, something that’s according to him caused by romantic feelings, but according to you that’s bullshit. Your crush on Lando doesn’t exist anymore, right? 
“Funny to see the girl who believed in you the most turn into one of your biggest haters,” Lando mutters annoyed. He truly feels betrayed by the way you’re talking about him and the upcoming race. He means his earlier words. Sometimes he wonders how things would be between you two if he did some things different. A lot changed when he was dating his ex girlfriend, changes he can’t undo but he wants to fix them. If you’ll let him.
“Not a hater,” you reply, “just a realist.” 
“Just watch me babygirl,” Lando says, “I’ll show you.”
“No thanks.”
“And after the podium I’ll find you and show you what else I can do,” Lando continues. He almost sounds dangerous. It causes you to feel flustered. What is he talking about? 
“The chances of you’re winning the race are as low as the chances of us going to fuck,” you tell him as if it’s a fact, while in reality you’re not so sure about yourself. 
“Seems like a good celebration, I’ll find you after the race,” Lando says, he has found his confidence back. 
“You’re crazy,” you sigh, “I’m not listening to this any longer.”
“See you after the race babygirl,” Lando says when you walk away from him.
“You won’t.” 
+++
Fuck. Did this actually happen? You don’t know whether to laugh or to cry when you’re looking at Lando who’s screaming from happiness while getting out of his car. How did he actually win todays race? What does this mean? What is going to happen now? Is Lando expecting that you’ll have sex with him now? Fuck. 
You see the way your brother is hugging with Lando, how happy he is for his friend. It makes you think about how you felt before. Every time Lando stood on the podium you’d beam with pride, you love(d) seeing him on the podium. It was you who always told Lando that he would be standing on the top step soon and that you’d be there to celebrate with him. How things changed. 
While looking at Lando who’s still celebrating with his team, you think back about the day things really went wrong between Lando and you. It has been months before it all crashed down, months filled up with weird tension and uncomfortable moments. Which all started when Lando got a girlfriend. You can’t blame him for that, you still don’t, but you just didn’t like her. Maybe it was because of your crush on Lando, maybe it was because his girlfriend sensed something and made sure that Lando and you couldn’t spend any time together anymore. 
“You don’t get it Lando,” you tell him, “I never get to see you anymore, you’re always busy and don’t make time for me anymore. What changed? Are you bored of me? Am I not fun enough to be your friend anymore?” 
“No, that’s not it,” Lando quickly says, “I just don’t have the time anymore.”
“You seem to have time for everyone expect for me,” you bitterly state, “I’m not stupid, I see how you’re traveling all around the world to meet up with every friend you have.”
“It’s different,” Lando defends himself. 
“Just tell me what I did wrong,” you sigh, “since you’re in a relationship everything changed between us.” 
Lando knew at that moment that he should tell you the truth. How he only agreed to his relationship so he could forget about his feelings for you, but he doesn’t dare to say so. And now he’s in a relationship with a weird influencer who seems to hate you and who doesn’t ‘allow’ him to see you anymore. He really should break up with her, but what will happen then?
“It’s just that she doesn’t like you,” Lando eventually tells you, “and as her boyfriend I need to chose her side, I guess?”
“So that’s it? Your girlfriend, from two months, doesn’t like me so you just decided to stop spending time with me, your friend from multiple years?” You ask confused. This time you don’t wait for Lando to continue. “That’s just, fuck, I don’t know what to say to that. Good to know my worth,” you continue sadly. 
After his confession which still wasn’t the whole story, Lando didn’t know what to say anymore. He watched how you left, but didn’t follow you to make things right. Maybe it’s for the better for now. There’s nothing he can do for now. He has a girlfriend, he needs to forget about his feelings for you and move on. 
Two hours later he broke up with his girlfriend, but then he was already blocked by you. 
After Lando celebrated with his team, almost all the other drivers and everyone else who congratulated him, you’re waiting for him to get on the podium. You feel weird while watching Lando on the podium. There’s a part of you who’s incredibly proud of him, a part that wants nothing more then to run over to Lando and hug him and tell him how proud you are of him. The other side of you is only thinking about what will happen next. 
When Lando is standing on the podium, you can’t stop thinking about how hot he looks. When Carlos finds his place next to you and watches Lando with you, he notices the way you keep looking at his best friend. “I really wouldn’t be mad if there would happen something between Lando and you,” Carlos tells you for the millionth time. “You’re crazy,” you reply annoyed. 
What Carlos and you both don’t notice is the way Lando is looking for you from the podium. When you look up again, you lock eyes with Lando. He sends you a wink. Fuck. 
After the podium you walk away together with Carlos, you want nothing more then get back to the hotel and sleep. This day was confusing and long, you can’t wait for it to end. Lando notices you walking away, without thinking about it he walks away from the press and starts to get towards you. He hurries and almost runs towards you. When he finally reaches you, he grabs your arm. 
“What the fuck,” you mutter when you feel someone grabbing your arm. Surprised you stop walking and look behind you. You don’t even know if you are surprised or not when you notice that it’s Lando. 
“You’re coming with me,” Lando tells you with a stern voice. Carlos looks confused at the two of you. You can only sigh. What are you going to say to this? You really don’t know. Slowly you nod at Lando, confusing your brother only more. Lando is quick to say a goodbye to Carlos and starts to walk off with you. 
+++
Lando dropped you in his drivers room. He still has media duties, but he wanted to make sure that you didn’t leave in the mean time. While giving interviews and talking with everyone, his mind is focused on you. He can only hope that you’re still waiting for him. 
In the mean time you keep thinking about what to do. You’re stressed out because of everything that’s happening. What will happen when Lando comes back from his interviews? Are the two of you going to talk things out and finally make it right? Or are you going to fight? Or is Lando actually for real and does he wants to fuck you? 
Eventually the stress makes you crazy. You decide to call your brother. Who knows for how long Lando is busy, you really need to talk with someone about this and who’s better then one of Lando his best friends? You know that your brother knows about your earlier feelings for Lando, so you can only hope that he will help you now. What if your feelings return? Or better said, what if you finally realize that they have never left?
“Carlos you really need to help me,” you start to speak when Carlos picks up.
“No, no, you need to tell me what’s going on between Lando and you! He left an interview to pick you up and now he’s doing interviews again? Where are you?” Carlos reacts.
“I’m in his drivers room,” you confess, “but I don’t know what will happen between us.” After that you explain to your brother what happened earlier today when he left Lando and you alone. Carlos chuckles when you tell him about Lando his bold replies. 
“What do you want to happen?” Carlos asks you eventually.
“I don’t know,” you say honestly. 
“You do know,” Carlos replies, “you’re just not honest to yourself. But we both know that you’re still in love with Lando.”
Before you can react to those words, Lando is entering his drivers room. You can only pray that he didn’t hear anything from what Carlos just said. “Lando’s here,” you tell Carlos on the phone, “I’ll talk to you later.” Before hanging up you hear Carlos say something childish in the lines of ‘doing it safe’. As if Lando wants something like that to happen you think annoyed.
“What am I doing here Lando?” You ask. 
“I’m getting my reward,” Lando tells you with a small smirk on his face. 
“Your reward?” You ask confused. 
“The chances of you winning the race are as low as the chances of us having sex,” Lando speaks up, “Remember those words babygirl?” 
“What do you want Lando?” You ask him. 
“You.”
Lando his answer makes you shiver. His following movements make it only worse. Without giving it a second thought, Lando pulls you into himself. His finger is under your chin, softly lifting it up for himself. He looks you into your eyes, searching for some sort of approval before he continues with his movements. When you show him a quick nod, he’s sure about it. Lando presses his lips against yours. 
Fuck, you can’t remember the last time a kiss felt so good. Now that you think of it, a kiss probably never felt this good before. It feels like everything is finally falling into it’s place. Lando pulls you as close into himself as he can manage. Your lips don’t leave his. When you feel Lando his hands on your body, a soft moan leaves your lips. Lando feels it vibrate against his own. Slowly he pulls back from you. 
“Lan,” you softly whimper when he doesn’t stop looking at you. 
“What is it babygirl?” He asks you. It’s the first time in a year that the nickname feels sweet instead of sarcastic. 
“Do something please,” you beg. 
Lando is quick to respond to your pleas. His hands find your body. Slowly he explores your curves while he presses some soft kisses on your neck, shoulders and face in the mean time. When Lando his hands are getting lower, you’re quick to lift up your skirt for him. Lando smirks when he notices it. 
“What do you want me to do?” Lando asks you. 
“If you can win,” you softly say, “then you also can fuck me I guess.”
This time Lando doesn’t hide his excitement anymore. He shows you an enthusiastic grin and moves away from you. Before you can complain, he’s already sitting in front of you. He takes off your skirt and starts to trace figures onto your still clothed cunt. He feels how your string is already damp. 
“You guess?” Lando asks you. 
“Don’t tease,” you tell him, “just fuck me already.”
Lando removes your string from your body. He moves his head closely to your cunt and presses a soft kiss against your clit. He’s in conflict with himself, he wants to take his time with you and show you exactly what he has to offer but he also just wants to fuck you right now until the both of you are lost for words. 
“Lan,” you whimper.
“Can’t I take my time with you babygirl?” Lando asks you teasingly. In the mean time he pulls down his race suit and boxers. 
“Next time,” you reply.
It makes Lando’s heart miss a beat. You’re thinking about a next time? His smile gets bigger again. He pulls you closer to him and aligns his dick with your entrance. You grab his hair in the mean time and try to get Lando closer towards yourself so you can kiss him again. When Lando lets his dick enter your body, it causes you to let out a loud moan. 
“Fuck,” Lando groans, “waited fucking four years to feel this.”
You barely hear him. Lando his words surprise you. Four years ago the two of you just met. At that time Carlos just got Lando as his new teammate. What does Lando mean with this. Before you can make things more clear for yourself, Lando continues to speak.
“Always wanted to fuck you,” Lando grunts, “Always thought about fucking you.”
Does this mean what you think it means? 
“What about..” You start to ask. “Don’t say her name,” Lando is quick to interrupt you. How does he already know that you’re talking about his ex? “Only got with her so I could forget you,” he confesses. 
“Fuck,” you moan, you don’t know but after Lando his sudden confession the sex feels even ten times better then before. “Always wanted you to fuck me as well,” you confess. 
That makes Lando slow down. 
“Waited four years for you,” you continue to confess.
This time Lando stops moving inside of you. 
“Are you serious babygirl?” Lando asks confused. 
“Yes,” you softly tell Lando, “I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time.”
Lando grins, “That’s good,” he says, “Really good.” He picks up his earlier pace and continues to fuck you. When the both of you reached your high, Lando carefully pulls back. He pulls you onto himself. Holding you as close towards himself as he can. 
“Four years right?” You ask Lando. 
“Four years,” he replies with a nod. 
The both of you let out a soft laugh. Suddenly nobody cares about what happened between you two in the last year. Sure, you will talk about it some time. But not now. Lando presses a kiss against your cheek. 
“Did you really think I couldn’t get a win today?” Lando suddenly asks you. 
“Lan,” you softly say, “I always believed you could get a win everywhere.” 
“That’s a girlfriend thing to say,” Lando jokes, “Are you my girlfriend now?”
“Do you want me to be?” 
“There’s nothing more I want to,” Lando confesses.
“Then I guess I’m your girlfriend,” you laugh. Lando kisses you again. 
“Let’s grab dinner with your brother,” Lando suggests, “and after that I want you in my hotel room so I can take my time with you.” 
“Deal.”
y/n: want to get dinner with me and my boyfriend?
y/n: he’s a race winner ;)
carlos: finally
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pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 7 months ago
Text
They Unknowingly Bring Up and Insecurity| Seungmin Pt2
Pt1 Pt3
Seungmin sat in the living room with the guys while you were in the kitchen with Lee Know preparing something for your guy's weekly hangout. You all decided on playing monopoly together, with you and Seungmin partnering up.
Bangchan carefully set up the board while Felix was handing out the money.
"Seungmin hyung." Jeongin asked as he handed his elder the thimble to him.
"Is Y/N okay? She's been really quiet. She won't even talk to me." Jeongin's face was droopy as he stuck his lip out. "I was wondering if she was upset about something?"
Seungmin took a breath and spoke quietly. His voice soft and rather sad.
"I think I said something that hurt her feelings really bad." His voice was starting to wobble a bit, and that told Jeongin all he needed to know.
"Did you say sorry?"
Seungmin nodded and his cheeks puffed out slightly as he pouted. "She said she was okay but I don't believe her."
Jeongin grabbed the hat and messed with it. "Well, what did you say to her?" He inquired.
Seungmin pulled out his phone and scrolled up to his texts with you. Which it didn't take long for him to scroll up because you hadn't been texting him as often. He only heard from you for important or urgent things, and he was missing the little random blurbs of somewhat unnecessary - but entirely endearing - information about what you were doing.
He handed his phone to Jeongin and the maknae quickly read it through.
"Hyung, you know why Y/N and her last boyfriend broke up right...?"
Seungmin shook his head and Jeongin opened his mouth to speak but you walked in with Minho with a tray of snacks.
"Did Minho teach you how to make something new?" Chan asked you. Seungmin could tell the rest of the guys had picked up on your odd silence, but you nodded.
"Kinda...he taught me how to set a charcuterie board. It's pretty."
You set it down and Jisung immediately went to go grab something.
"MMM Y/N THIS IS SO GOOD!!" He popped a piece of cheese into his mouth and his cheeks puffed up. "You need to teach me now!!"
The effort Jisung had given to get you to respond was in vain.
"Jiji, I just grabbed the cheese from a package..."
The wide eyed quokka boy scratched his neck. "Oh um. Its still good though."
Throughout the first thirty minutes of you guys playing, minimal conversation was made and Seungmin was feeling antsy.
He missed your voice.
When you stood up to go to the bathroom and go restock the snack supply all the guys turned to you.
"Seungmin apologize. I miss my baby girl..." Jisung whined.
Seungmin deadpanned and Jisung frowned. "What she was my baby girl before she became your baby girl..."
"I don't know how I'm supposed to fix it! I don't know what I did wrong really..."
"Hyung, her boyfriend broke up with her because of her tendency to overshare...and you know...talk a lot."
Seungmin's puppy eyes narrowed as his eyebrows furrowed. "What?"
"It was a stupid reason to break up really. She only told me because one time she was feeling insecure when we were hanging out and some lady told me that 'my girlfriend talked a lot'; which I told her that I wasn't dating her but also that it didn't matter because I talk a lot too." Jeongin frowned.
Seungmin blinked a few times and bit his bottom lip.
"I don't think she's upset at you Seungmin..." Changbin spoke. "From what I see it seems like she's trying not to be a burden."
"Burden?"
"She doesn't want you to break up with her so she's trying to change that aspect about herself. You're naturally a quiet person and she probably thinks she's too much for you and that you'll get tired of it."
Seungmin shook his head. "No! I could never get tired of Y/N-ie!"
Chan chuckled. "You guys really are perfect for each other." He says, marveling in his work. "But...tone doesn't translate over text."
"And you're a sarcastic motherfucker." Minho adds.
Hyunjin stretches across the floor. "You can say that again."
Jisung huffs. "Well go on and apologize! Because I want my gossip buddy back! She never finished telling me about the drama on her mom's side of the family! I was invested in which side piece got her cousin pregnant!"
Hyunjin shoots up, sniffing the drama. "Ya! Seungmin fix it! I want to know now too!"
Seungmin looked down at the board as he contemplated just how he could fix this.
Because sometimes words weren't the cure.
But actions were.
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Sorry for the short work 🫠. But in all the drafts of my 3 part angst series (oops theres more?) the 2nd part tends to be shorter since its the down hill of the plot.
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