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wolverigrl · 4 months ago

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The first date

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

!Disclaimer! I made some small changes in the last parts! The movie they made is a fictional one about Lady Deadpool. Everything takes place in 2015. Y/n is in her late 20s. Blake and Ryan got married long before and I changed the ages of their and Hugh's kids so it would fit more!

Warnings: none, only some swearing here and there and a bit fluff, not proofread!!

Enjoy!

Previous part

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The early morning breeze was cool as I jogged through Central Park, the soft hum of the city waking up in the background. The familiar rhythm of my footsteps against the pavement was oddly comforting, almost like a meditation. I pulled my black baseball cap lower, shielding my eyes from the rising sun, and zipped up my running jacket a bit more. My leggings clung comfortably to my legs, and I felt grounded, my mind clear, my body moving with ease.

Jogging here had become part of my routine, a way to escape for a moment. The quiet mornings felt like a reset. As I slowed my pace and started walking toward the park exit, my breathing still steady, I noticed two people approaching from the side, their faces lighting up in recognition.

"Excuse me... are you y/n?" the guy asked, his voice a little shaky with excitement.

I smiled softly, adjusting my cap. "Yeah, that’s me."

The girl next to him looked at me with wide eyes, already fumbling for her phone. "Oh my God, we are big fans! Can we take a picture with you?"

I chuckled, nodding. "Of course, let’s do it."

We huddled together, her phone snapping a few pictures. The guy, who looked like he was around his early twenties, lingered for a moment longer, hesitating before speaking.

“You probably hear this all the time." he began, "but you really inspired me. I’ve always wanted to act, but I didn’t have the courage to pursue it. Seeing you do what you love gave me the push I needed so I just joined a local theater group."

For a moment, his words hung in the air, and I felt a rush of warmth. It wasn't every day someone said something so meaningful.

"That’s amazing! I’m so glad I could inspire you. Keep at it, okay? It’s tough, but if it’s your passion, it’s always worth it."

He nodded, his face full of excitement and we hugged each other as a goodbye. As they walked away, I called out, “You made my day! Love you guys!” Their faces lit up even more, and I couldn't help but feel grateful for moments like this.

This encounter left me with a good feeling, and as I walked back home, I couldn’t help but feel lighter. Connecting with people like that reminded me why I started this journey in the first place.

Back in my apartment, I kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto the couch. My mind wandered to everything that had happened over the past few days—work, interviews, photoshoots—but one thing stuck out more than the rest: Hugh. I had been thinking about him more than usual, and after yesterday’s intense moment, it was hard not to.

Still, before I let my thoughts drift too far, I got got into the bathroom for a quick refreshing shower. After that I changed into a comfy office look, grabbed my phone and dialed my parents. I hadn’t caught up with them in a while, and I missed hearing their voices.

“Y/n! Pumpkin! How’s our superstar?” my mom’s voice greeted me on the other end.

I smiled, sinking into the cushions. "Super busy, as usual. But everything’s going well. I'll have a meeting with the team today. lots of interviews coming up."

We chatted for a while about my schedule, how they were doing, and the usual family updates. I purposely avoided mentioning anything about Hugh. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell them, but I wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. Not when things between us were still so undefined.

After saying goodbye, I got up to get ready for my meeting at the office. As I was applying a bit of makeup, my phone buzzed on the counter. Hugh’s name appeared on the screen.

HUGH: Good morning, beautiful❤️ How's your day starting?

I couldn’t help but smile as I typed back, already feeling my heart speed up a little.

Y/N: Good morning handsome🥰 Doing pretty good so far. Just came back from my morning run. How about yours?

Almost immediately, his reply came through.

HUGH: I still don’t know how you can enjoy running😅 Mine's good too. Picked coffee with a friend and now we're at his house already working.

Y/N: Maybe you're just getting old?👀

HUGH: Why so mean? Did you trip on your run?

I snapped a quick selfie in the mirror with my tongue out and send it to him.

Y/N: I'm not mean. It was a legitimate question. I'm heading to the office now! Wish me luck!😘

HUGH: Looking great as always! And good luck, though you don’t need it. You always kill it sweetheart😘

A moment later, another message appeared, this time with a photo of Hugh, standing in what looked like an unfinished house. He was wearing a tight-fitting shirt, his arms slightly dusted with sawdust, his hair messy in a way that only made him look better. I paused, biting my lip. He looked really good. And my mind, much to my frustration, flashed back to that kiss.

Y/N: Somebody pls call the fire department🔥

HUGH: Lady, stop exaggerating😂

I chuckled, shaking my head. There was something so annoyingly attractive about how casual he was, even when he looked like that. After a few more texts, I realized I had to leave or I’d be late.

The management office was buzzing with energy when I arrived, as usual. I greeted everyone warmly, settling into the meeting room where we began discussing upcoming interviews and events. Everything was going smoothly, just the usual PR talk—until one of the managers, Sam, leaned forward with a more serious expression.

“So, we’ve been thinking,” he began. “The buzz around you and Hugh has been great for both of your images. The movie’s coming out soon, and the fan speculation has been... let’s just say, active”

I nodded slowly, already sensing where this was going.

“We think it would be smart to keep that momentum going." Sam continued. “Even after the release of the movie, we want you two to keep up the appearance of having something going on. Publicly, deny it in interviews, of course. But tease the people a bit more. Keep them guessing.”

I blinked, processing what he was saying. "So, you want us to pretend we’re together, but not really confirm anything?"

Sam nodded. "Exactly. It’ll keep the public engaged, and your fanbases will stay hooked. It’s good for both of you."

The idea sat heavy in my chest. I could see why they wanted it—it made sense from a PR standpoint—but the thought of turning something personal into a game made me uneasy. What if it messed things up between Hugh and me? What if it turned whatever we were trying to figure out into a spectacle?

“I’ll talk to Hugh about it." I said carefully. “And I think it’s best if you reach out to his team as well, just to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

Sam smiled, satisfied. "Good call. Let us know what you both decide."

They nodded, and we moved on to other topics. I was particularly excited when they mentioned a potential collaboration with a fashion brand. Modeling for a brand had always been a dream, and eagerly agreed.

After sorting out some paperwork, I left the office, my mind still swirling with everything we discussed. As I stepped outside, my phone rang. It was Chris.

"Hey!" he greeted me. "I'm in New York earlier than planned. Are you free?"

Of course, I agreed, and we arranged to meet up at his hotel. Soon, we were stroling through the city together, talking about everything from movies to work. Even though my phone buzzed several times, I ignored it, wanting to be fully present with Chris.

After a while, Chris turned to me with a grin. "So, about those rumors with you and Hugh... anything you want to share?" I felt my stomach twist. Lying to I Chris didn't sit right with me, but Hugh and I had agreed that only Ryan and Blake knew about us. So, I gave him the standard answer.

"We’re just friends,” I said, not quite meeting his eyes. “You know how the rumors go. Our Managers want us to play along because it looks good. That’s all.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced but letting it slide. “If you say so.”

Then, with a sudden shift in tone, he said, “Actually... I’ve been meaning to tell you. I met someone.”

I blinked, surprised. "What? When?"

“Not too long ago. Her name’s Alba. She’s incredible—smart, sweet, talented and down-to-earth. We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.”

As Chris spoke, his eyes lit up, and I could tell he was smitten. I felt a surge of happiness for him, pulling him into a tight hug. “Chris, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you.”

He smiled, clearly touched by my excitement, and we spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the city, talking about Alba, his family and how things were going. Eventually, I had the idea to skip the pub and order takeout instead. Chris agreed, but only on one condition.

"We have to watch a Disney movie!" He said with eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Deal!" I laughed.

After heading back to my place, we posted a photo of us together on Instagram, and as expected, the comments looded in.

>>ginainabottle: Where's Hugh?😭<<

>>markix69: Y/n always with the dilfs. QUEEN💯<<

>>teddy1xoxo: How is it living my dream?❤️😭<<

I finally checked my messages and saw a few from Hugh.

HUGH: Have fun tonight😘

HUGH: Meeting up already?

HUGH: Everything okay?

Guilt twisted in my stomach and I quickly called him.

"Hey.." I said softly when he picked up. "I'm so sorry I didn't respond earlier. I was just... you know how it is... We've been talking non-stop."

"Y/n it's fine." Hugh replied, but there was something off in his tone. "What've you two been up to?"

I told him everything--how we spend the day walking around, catching up and now were getting ready for a movie night.

"Chris is still here, actually." I added. "We're about to watch The Little Mermaid."

There was a pause before Hugh spoke again, and I could swear there was a hint of something... maybe jealousy? But I brushed it off.

"I miss you." he said, his voice softer now.

"I miss you too." I replied, smiling at he thought of seeing him soon.

"Oh, by the way." I added remembering the management's idea. "My team suggested we tease the fans a bit more online. Even after the movie releases."

Hugh chuckled. "Yeah, we can play around with it. Deny everything but drop a few hints. But what do you think?"

I bit my lip, thinking back to the conversation with my team. "I'm not sure, honestly. I don't want the media or public pressure to affect what we're building between us, you know? But if you're okay with it, maybe we should continue."

Hugh chuckled, the tension easing from his voice. "Like a soft launch, huh? So, we hint at things but never really confirm it?"

"Exactly." I said, smiling at the idea now that it was being said out loud. "We can have fun with it. But still deny things if people ask outright."

"Deal," he said, his tone light again. "Let's tease them a little, but keep the mystery alive."

We both laughed at the absurdity of it, and the playful tone of the conversation helped ease my earlier guilt. Then, Hugh's voice turned a bit more serious, though stillwarm. "By the way... how about gym and breakfast tomorrow? Just the two of us?"

I hesitated, not out of uncertainty but because of how much I wanted it. "Like... our first real date?" I asked, grinning into the phone.

"Yep. Our first official date." he confirmed, the excitement in his voice clear.

"Then, it's a yes!" I said, feeling butterflies stir in my stomach at the hought. "Where should we meet?

We hashed out the details and after a few more minutes of casual banter, we finally said our goodbyes, both of us feeling lighter.

As soon as I hung up, I turned to find Chris giving me a curious look from the couch. "So. first date, huh?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.

I sighed, knowing I couldn't hide it anymore. "Yeah, fine. You got me," I admitted, plopping down beside him. "Hugh and I... there's something going on. But we're keeping it quiet for now. Chris grinned, clearly happy for me. "I had a feeling. And honestly? I'm happy for you. Hugh's a good guy He was always super nice when I had the chance talking to him."

"Thanks, Chris. It's just complicated, you know? With the media and all."

"Yeah, I get it." He said with a knowing nod. "But if anyone can handle it, it's you." He then smirked, his teasing side coming back. "So are you guys gonna do a soft launch like the rest of us normal people, or something more dramatic?"

I squealed and shoving his arm. "What the heck?! He mentioned a soft launch too! What are you? Telepathic?!" And we both bursted into laughter.

We calmed down and shifted our focus back to The Little Mermaid. Chris singing along to Part of Your World with exaggerated enthusiasm. It wasn't long before he dozed off, his head lolling back against the couch. I smiled fondly at him, his mouth slightly open, snoring softly. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions, but it was nice to end it with someone I trusted so much.

Grabbing my phone,I snapped a quick picture of Chris, chuckling to myself as I did and quickly posted the photo to Instagram with the caption:

>>y/n instagram: Disney and chill with my favorite co-star🧜🏻‍♂️<<

The comments poured in almost instantly, but I ignored the notifications, setting my phone on the coffee table and grabbing a blanket to drape over Chris. After making sure he was comfortable, I turned off the lights, heading to my bedroom. I slipped under the covers, the events of the day replaying in my mind. Hugh, Chris, the PR idea and the upcoming date.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Chris moving around the apartment. I got up and changed into comfy clothes as I walked into the living room where he was packing up his things, looking like the human version of a Disney prince as usual. As I stretched and rubbed my eyes, he glanced over at me with a soft smile.

“Morning, sleepyhead." he teased, zipping up his jacket. “I’ve got a meeting downtown, but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

I sat up and gave him a playful wave. “Didn’t want me to think you snuck out, huh?”

“Exactly. I’m not that kind of guy,” he joked, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Then his tone softened. “Hey, keep me updated on the Hugh situation, okay? I’m curious how things go. And don’t forget to tell me about that first date.”

I smiled, the warmth of his support making me feel even more confident. “I will. Thanks, Chris.”

He leaned down and gave me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. “See you soon, y/n. And don’t forget, I’m always just a text away if you need me.”

“Will do. Good luck with your meeting!”

With a final wave, he headed out the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and a mess of nerves about my first official date with Hugh later that morning. I had no idea what to expect, but I hoped it wouldn’t turn into a disaster.

After Chris left, I freshened up, threw on my workout clothes, and made my way to the gym where Hugh and I had agreed to meet. This wasn’t just a casual workout—it was our first date, so I kinda did a big deal out of it.

When I arrived, Hugh was already there, looking ridiculously good in his gym gear. He waved me over with that easygoing smile that never failed to make my heart race.

“You ready?” he asked smiling down at me.

“I was born ready!" With this Hugh opened the door and let me go in first.

We started with some light cardio to warm up, and things were going smoothly—until we hit the weight section again. I’d watched Hugh easily lift a set of dumbbells like they were made of air, and, in a moment of misplaced confidence, I thought 'Why not?'. I grabbed a barbell and decided to push myself a bit further than usual. The first few reps went okay, but as I tried to push the barbell up again, my arms started to shake. I tried to power through it, but I quickly realized I had overestimated my strength. Just as the weight became too much, Hugh was beside me in an instant. “Need some help there?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes. I tried to save face. “I’ve got it, just—just give me a second…” Before I could protest further, he gently but firmly took hold of the barbell, lifting it with ease and placing it back on the rack.

"Yeah, you totally had that under control." he teased, his smile widening. “Okay, maybe I overdid it a little." I admitted, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks.

"No shame in asking for help." he said, giving me a playful nudge. “Just don’t hurt yourself trying to keep up with me.”

I playfully groaned and lightly slapped his chest. He just laughed, pulling me tighter against him, his arms wrapping around my waist. I looked up at him, grinning, my gaze lingering on his lips for a beat too long.

“Do you need a kiss to forget that little mishap?” he teased, moving his face closer, eyes sparkling with mischief.

I smirked, voice dropping to a whisper, “Oh, I’ll need more than one to forget that.”

Before he could respond, I closed the gap between us, pulling him in with my arms wrapped around his neck. My fingers tangled in his messy, sweat-damp hair as our kiss deepened, the heat between us rising instantly. He brushed his tongue over my bottom lip, and I parted my lips, welcoming him further. His hands gripped me firmly at the waist, keeping me pressed tightly against him, while my hands couldn’t stay still, roaming over his broad shoulders and chest. Every nerve in my body felt like it was on fire, completely overtaken by the moment, the world around us fading away.

I didn’t even realize when my hands slipped under his shirt, fingertips grazing his warm skin. But just as quickly as the moment ignited, Hugh pulled back, breathless, his forehead resting against mine.

“We’re only on our first date,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement, a crooked smile playing on his lips. “I haven’t even given you flowers yet.”

I chuckled softly, my head still spinning, and nodded. “You’re right. We said we wouldn’t rush things… and, well, making out in a public gym might be pushing it. I don’t think our management would be too thrilled if the media caught wind of this.”

Hugh laughed, loosening his hold on me, though his hands lingered for a moment longer. “Yeah, I can already hear the headlines.”

Reluctantly, we stepped back from each other, both grinning, but still feeling that magnetic pull between us.

After that little incident, we wrapped up the workout, and I offered to cook us breakfast back at my place. It was the least I could do after Hugh saved me from total humiliation. But as soon as I started cooking, I realized maybe that wasn't the best idea.

The eggs burned almost immediately, the toast was so hard you could break a tooth on it, and I somehow managed to get pancake batter all over the counter.

Hugh stood nearby, watching the chaos unfold with a mix of amusement and concern.

"I swear, I'm usually better at this." I said, desperately trying to salvage something from the mess. Hugh laughed, leaning against the counter. "Better at lifting weights or cooking?"

"Oh shut up!" I laughed and tossed a burnt piece of toast at him, which he dodged easily.

"You sure you don't want me to handle this?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement.

"Hugh, I already said no. I'm perfectly capable." I said defensively, though the evidence clearly suggested otherwise.

"You keep telling yourself that." he teased.

I flipped another pancake, only to see it land halfway off the pan.

I let out a dramatic sigh, slumping my shoulders in mock defeat. Hugh chuckled and wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing a quick kiss to my neck. The warmth of his lips and the slight scratch of his beard sent a shiver down my spine, goosebumps rising instantly. I turned my head towards him, and with a soft smile, he said, "Looks like the universe is giving you a day off from cooking. Let’s clean up and eat at the café instead."

Eventually, we gave up on my culinary attempt and decided to head downtown to the next café. We settled into a cozy corner table, ordering some coffee and toast. As the food arrived, I couldn't help but laugh.

"At least this can't go wrong, right?" joked, gesturing to the perfectly normal-looking plate in front of us. Hugh raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be so sure. With us, anything's possible."

I pretended to look horrified. "Don't jinx it!"

He chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "So, What do you think of our first date so far?"

I paused, meeting his eyes.

Hugh leaned back smiling. "Well I've gotta say, it's been pretty great so far."

I chuckled, feeling the warmth spread through me. "I agree. Disaster-prone, but definitely memorable."

We spent the rest of breakfast chatting, laughing about the little mishaps from the past couple of hours, and just enjoying each other's company. It, again, felt easy and natural, even with the nerves of a first date hanging in the air.

As we finished up, Hugh reached under the table for my hand and squeezed it gently, giving me a soft look that made my heart skip a beat. "You know, I'm really glad we do this."

"Me too, Hugh." Iadmitted, feeling the same.

Later that afternoon, Hugh and I met up with Ryan for an interview promoting the movie, which finally releases tomorrow. It was just the three of us sitting in a comfortable setup, no live audience, just cameras, and a quiet room. I always looked forward to interviews with Ryan—he had a way of making everything fun and unpredictable.

The interviewer greeted us friendly with a firm handshake and began with the usual questions about the film after introducing us to the already recording camera.

"So, y/n, how did it feel stepping into the shoes of Lady Deadpool?”

I smiled, leaning forward slightly. “Honestly, it was a dream. She’s such a chaotic, yet deeply emotional character. Playing her meant getting to do some wild action scenes while also diving into her personal struggles. Plus, I got to wear a lot of leather.”

Ryan jumped in, grinning. “And kick some serious butt. Let’s not forget that.”

The interviewer nodded and turned to Hugh. “And how about you, Hugh? Wolverine is such an iconic character. How was it returning to the role?”

Hugh smiled, looking relaxed. “It’s always an honor to play Wolverine. This time around, the dynamic with Deadpool—and Lady Deadpool—added a whole new level of fun. The banter, the action sequences, it all just felt... electric.”

Ryan leaned in dramatically. “But let’s be honest. It was terrible. We all hated each other on set!"

Hugh, the interviewer and I bursted into laughter as Ryan continued, completely straight-faced. "No, seriously, it was a nightmare. Every day was a battle I'm surprised we even finished the movie."

"I mean, you were pretty hard to work with.: I teased, leaning into the joke.

Ryan shrugged dramatically. "I do my best to bring chaos wherever I go."

The interviewer then introduced a fun segment: Fan questions pulled from Twitter. “Alright, we’ve got some tweets here from fans. Let’s see what they want to know.”

He read the first tweet aloud. “@MarvelFanGirl asks: ‘What was the funniest moment on set?’ "

Ryan immediately jumped in. “Oh, I’ve got this. There was actually a pretty intense kiss scene between y/n and Hugh in the original cut of the film, but - spoiler alert - it got cut because the film was running too long. Marvel classics." Hugh chuckled, already shaking his head in amusement.

"And I swear by the mother of my children, Blake Ellender Lively!" he dramatically paused. "They just kept going after the director's cut! The crew didn't know if they were still in the scene or... well, if it was method acting, if you know what I mean."

At this point the interviewer started laughing uncontrollably and held his hand in front of his mouth.

I laughed, hiding my face in my hands. “Why do you always bring that up?”

“Because it’s comedy gold!” Ryan laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

"Don't listen to him, Hugh said, grinning. "He's just upset he didn't get a kiss scene."

"Eeeexactly!" Ryan exclaimed, pointing at Hugh. "Where's Deadpool's kiss scene, huh? It's an outrage!"

Even the crew behind the cameras started laughing and the interviewer moved on with the questions, still giggling.

"Ryan, if you could switch roles with anyone in the cast, who would it be?" asked the interviewer.

Without missing a beat, Ryan replied.

"Y/n, hands down. She got the sexiest costume, the coolest weapons, and she gets to kick more butt than anyone else. Plus, let's not forget--she gets to kiss Hugh."

I groaned, shaking my head while Hugh laughed. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"Never!" Ryan said with a grin.

The next tweet came in, and the interviewer read it out. “@WolverineLover asks: ‘If Wolverine and Lady Deadpool had their own spin-off movie, what would it be about?’”

Hugh pretended to think seriously. “I imagine it would be about trying to stop Lady Deadpool from blowing up everything in sight.”

I shot him a mock-offended look. “Hey, Lady Deadpool isn’t that destructive.”

Ryan snorted. “Oh please, she’d turn the whole thing into a circus. Wolverine would just be there for damage control.”

We all laughed as we moved on to the next question. “@DeadpoolRocks asks: ‘Ryan, how much of Deadpool is actually you?’ "

Ryan grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, about 90%, I’d say. The other 10% is just me trying to look cooler than I actually am.”

As the interview wrapped up, we exchanged a few more lighthearted jabs, and I couldn’t help but feel how much fun we had together. Ryan and Hugh had a way of making every moment a little less serious and a lot more entertaining.

“Alright." Ryan said, standing up as the cameras shut off. “Who’s ready for round two tomorrow?”

I moaned, already dreading whatever he had in store. “I’m not sure my dignity can handle it.”

Hugh laughed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we walked out. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there to save you. Again.”

“Let’s just hope there are no weights involved this time,” I quipped.

After the interview, we walked off stage, and Ryan clapped Hugh on the back.

"Man, I'm still disappointed they cut the kiss scene. We were all waiting for the slow-motion sparks."

Hugh just laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, I'm sure that's why the audience would come to watch the movie. For that."

Ryan wagged his finger. "Don't underestimate the power of romance, Jackman. Fans live for that!"

I shot both of them a look, trying to keep a straight face. "As long as no one mentions the breakfast disaster, I'll consider this interview a win."

Ryan blinked, clearly intrigued. "What breakfast disaster?"

Hugh grinned mischievously, but before he could spill, I put my hand over his mouth in protest. "Nope! Not happening. What happens in the kitchen stays in the kitchen."

Ryan raised his eyebrows, clearly enjoying my embarrassment. "Im going to get that story out of one of you. Just wait!"

"Ha! You wish!" I called over my shoulder, heading out of the studio with them.

Eventually, we split off, with Ryan going in one direction, and Hugh and I in another, after we said our goodbyes.

Hugh opened the passenger door for me so that I could get in. After my little "Thank you", he closed the door with a smile and sat down on the other side. "My place or yours?"

I kissed his cheek. "Let's go to your place."

With that, Hugh drove off, placing his hand on my thigh as he drove.

Smiling, I looked out of the window and stroked the back of his hand with my thumb. What a day.

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@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild

Next part

Sorry if it's not proofread! Struggled with a migraine today but still wanted to finish this part. But I tried my best! And I hope I didn't confuse anybody with the small changes.

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kumkaniudaku · 2 months ago

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Stay A While (5)

Summary: Terry and Patrice enjoy each other with the promise of bright future.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 4.9k

Part: 5 of 5

Warnings: Smut (18+), NSFW

A/N: Thanks so much for joining me on this ride. I hope the journey turns out to be worth it.

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four.

“Uh, my name is Terry, I’m from North Carolina, and I wanna dedicate this one to my lady over there in the orange dress. You look good, girl.”

“Oh no.”

“Sing your song, baby!”

A mix of encouragement and admiration at Terry’s public display of affection rang out in a poorly lit karaoke bar in the French Quarter. Liquor, good food, and good people were the perfect mix for a good time with the vestiges of Summer break rapidly slipping away. Terry stood on stage with a goofy grin and low eyes, pointing everyone toward his favorite audience member.

Patrice had never been so embarrassed in her life. When she’d dared him to do something crazy on the last night of their spontaneous vacation, she thought he’d finally get that tattoo of her name on his ribs like he promised way back when. Singing in front of a crowd of rowdy strangers wasn’t on her bingo card.

Her hands covered her mouth to muffle her near-uncontrollable laughter.

Terry couldn’t sing. At least not well enough to give a tipsy rendition of Patrice’s favorite Usher record. She still remembered forcing Terry to listen to Raymond v. Raymond over and over again in her cramped bedroom, many times not getting past Track 3 without gushing over how she hoped to marry the R&B heartthrob one day. Terry secretly carried a deep disdain for Usher up until his mid-20s, but couldn’t dodge the memories any time “There Goes My Baby” would play and take him right back to that cramped bedroom with his dream girl.

He started just as Patrice expected. Though he knew the words like the back of his hand, his pitchy tenor was a far cry from the vocals needed to properly serenade an audience. He didn’t care though. As long as he could pull a belly laugh from Patrice he’d make a fool of himself in public every time.

Between the second verse and bridge, Terry decided to take his antics up a notch. He abandoned the stage to make a beeline for Patrice with the mic in hand for a personal show. She was sure to play into the bit with playful hoops and fake screams between giggles. When he was close enough to touch, she pretended to fangirl like she was front row at one of Usher’s Vegas shows.

“Baby, lovin’ you feels better than everything, anything. Put it on my heart, you gon’ get a ring,” he sang, spontaneously remixing the lyrics so far off-key that, if not for the levity of the ordeal, he’d surely offend every music lover in a 50-mile radius. “And I promise, our time away didn’t change my love.”

Completely enamored with the absurdity of the moment, Patrice ran her fingertips across Terry’s abdomen underneath his shirt like a crazed fan and winked. Terry acknowledged the dangerous line she was toeing by flashing her a flirtatious grin to match the seductive sparkle in his eyes.

Their connection overrode Terry’s awful singing performance enough for the crowd to show support through an assortment of cheers and supportive hollers only a city full of spirited Black people could provide.

Always the perfect gentleman, Terry bid Patrice farewell for a moment with a peck on the cheek before returning to the stage to cap a truly unexpected performance and receive thunderous applause.

“Oooo-weee. That’s your man, love? I’m talking official official?” The middle-aged tourist’s question and her thick accent interrupted Patrice’s daydreaming while she watched Terry’s every move with part of her bottom lip caught by her top row of teeth.

“Yeah,” she answered, finally tearing her gaze away to acknowledge the woman while fiddling with the opal necklace he’d gifted her at dinner. It was the necklace symbolizing their first real date and the end of their friends only arrangement. “That’s him. Ain’t he somethin’?”

“Somethin’ ain’t the word. I might need to head on up to North Carolina and get me one of them. My God today!”

“He’s got a cute little single friend out in Percyville if you down with our Asian brothers. Former Marine too.”

“You got a picture?”

The two women fell into conversation about Ken’s availability while Patrice waited for Terry to rejoin her side. He soon returned with two shots of tequila in hand and a smile fighting to be freed from behind his poker face.

“What was that about,” he asked, nodding at the woman who’d begun to show her friends photos of her potential beau as he placed a shot in front of Patrice.

“Might’ve gotten Ken somebody to take him out of the streets. You know he like ‘em thick and fine.”

“I taught my boy a few things.” He used the hand closest to Patrice to breach the split in her dress and grip her inner thigh. He maintained contact, waiting for her to get shy and shoo him away.

But she didn’t. She met his show of dominance with one of her own and crossed her legs to keep him in place, keeping him close to the pulse at her center. Two could play the secret foreplay game.

“What’s that about,” she asked, pointing at his gift of top-shelf reposado and ignoring the flutter in her stomach once he began rubbing slow circles on the top of her thigh with his thumb.

He smirked. “A little something to toast with.”

“Oooh. What’re we celebrating?”

“Being free, being together, and…” He lifted his shot glass, prompting Patrice to follow suit.

“And what, TJ! C’mon!”

“And…I got the job.” He followed his surprise by taking his shot, finishing with a quiet laugh while watching Patrice sit in unblinking shock. He squeezed her thigh again. “Don’t let me drink alone now. Bottoms up.”

Shock gave way to a soft squeal and tiny, animated hand claps before Patrice took her gulp of tequila. Excitement had her rushing to swallow so that she could pull Terry into a series of quick kisses across his face.

“I’m proud of you,” she complimented against his lips. “Tell me about it.”

She stole another kiss to taste the remnants of buffalo sauce and alcohol on Terry’s tongue. He let her explore uninhibited until she’d had enough. If she wanted to put on a show, he’d be a willing participant. Even more so in the privacy of the Airbnb that belonged them to until sunrise.

The sexual tension had reached a tipping point and the clock was ticking. Images of her body beneath his were starting to be the only thoughts Terry could concoct.

Terry’s face was completely flushed, usually even caramel skin now red from lust and one too many drinks. A slow, tipsy grin put all his teeth on display before he ran his tongue across his bottom lip.

“We can talk about that later. Can we get out of here right now, though.”

“Yeah? Why?”

Patrice assumed they were having a good time with at least one more stop on their self-guided nightlife tour. His eagerness to abandon plans was uncharacteristic.

Terry continued to smile then leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “I really wanna make you cum tonight. You been waiting too long.”

A shiver hit Patrice’s spine as she tried to maintain some level of composure in a room full of people. Terry easily pushed her thighs open to free his hand, being sure to brush against her lower lips with the tips of his fingers.

Terry didn’t need to speak when he stood to pull her chair back from the table. Patrice allowed him to tug her to her feet and out of the bar, waving goodbye to her new friend who gave her a congratulatory thumbs up.

However, any morsel of confidence she had while they made out like teenagers in the backseat of a taxi had waned once they reached their dwelling for the night and the reality of their situation set in.

Their first time together was her first time. She was young with too many influences in her ear telling her that the only way to make a man love her was through her body. No matter how many times Terry assured her that they could spend that truly imporable hour of alone time in her hotel room catching up, she insisted that they test the boundaries of their affection.

Now, with history repeating itself, she couldn’t help but feel a deep pit of nervousness and uncertainty growing in her belly.

Patrice stood in the bathroom mirror, tussling with her hair that had gone from pressed roots to a mess of frizz and curled ends. She suddenly hated the way her cotton slip dress fit and how the lace bra and panty set seemed to bunch in all the wrong places. The only thing she wanted to do was look like the woman of his dreams, but her confidence was waning with every second she spent judging her appearance while Terry waited patiently in the bedroom. Frustration was building and bringing the sting of fresh tears to her eyes.

On the other side of the door, Terry spent his time adjusting and readjusting the pillows on the bed. His bare back and shoulders glistened under the soft, warm light emanating from the floor lamp across the room, partially from the heat, but mostly from sheer nervousness.

“What the fuck are you doing,” he whispered to himself, suddenly embarrassed.

Terry forced himself to take a seat at the edge of the bed to calm his nerves. The last time he’d been on the brink of having her in this way, he was a young man with no clue how to love a woman. Now, all he wanted to do was prove that he’d earn every morsel of her trust back if she let him.

He never told Patrice that their first time was his first time. He was scared out of his mind, wanting to give in to his fantasies but afraid to send the wrong impression. The memory of that summer afternoon never left him. But, it was time to start anew with a title and the promise of a different result on the horizon.

Taking a deep breath, Terry wiped his sweaty palms against the soft fabric of his briefs and sighed.

“You okay in there,” he called out, concerned as the minutes ticked by with no communication. “I don’t wanna rush you. Just checking in. Tell me to leave you alone if I’m doing too much.”

“I’m okay. One second. I’m fixin’ my hair.”

“Take your time. I’m sure you look…”

The soft sound of the door opening stopped Terry mid-sentence. Patrice stepped out, one foot in front of the other, until she was past the threshold and under his doting gaze.

“...gorgeous,” he finished, the word coming out in one breath. “You are absolutely gorgeous, Treece.”

Patrice had decided on a bun on top of her head with tendrils in the front and back that couldn’t quite reach the rest of her hair. She’d traded her light makeup for a bare face still glowing from her nighttime skin routine. Her slip dress clung and dipped in all the right places without the lace from her lingerie interrupting the smooth fabric. She looked at him through long lashes, her expression reading as the same timid girl from all those years ago.

Terry stood to his full height in reverence of her breathtaking form. The most skilled artists and creators from around the world couldn’t have dreamt of a more captivating marvel in his opinion. She was the pinnacle of beauty.

Patrice watched him draw closer, her head slowly tilting up as he began to dwarf her with his stature. He reached out to trace her jaw before lightly gripping her chin between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.”

Goofy smiles and giggles followed their awkward introduction to ease the anxious energy in the room.

“Is Terrence James Richmond nervous behind little ol’ me,” she teased with a tickle to his sides.

“I got a few butterflies, I’m not gon’ lie,” he laughed. “Just wanna make you happy, is all.”

“I was gonna say the same to you.”

“You have no idea how happy you make me.”

His voice came in just above a whisper, nearly drowned out by the chirping of crickets outside.

Their noses brushed against each other as Patrice stood on her tip-toes to rest her arms around his neck. Her fingers traced circles at his nape, making the hair all over his body stand at attention.

A tentative peck connected their lips and gave way to more needy, hungry kisses that transformed them into eager teenagers making out for the thrill of physical contact.

Euphoria wasn’t enough to explain Terry’s headspace. He was high off every kiss, lick, and bite Patrice allowed. He couldn’t get close enough. It wasn’t sufficient to pull her closer with a firm grasp on her ass. He needed to taste her, to be consumed by her, to consume her in every way possible.

“Put me to work. Tell me what you need,” he whispered, breathless as blood began to rush south from the slight pain of Patrice’s fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.

“You. Fold me, bend me, flip me, I don’t care. I just need you.”

Patrice was far beyond playing coy. She’d drop to her knees and beg at his feet if he asked. Whatever she had to do to feel him from the inside was on the table.

Terry didn’t make Patrice go to extremes for his affection. He preferred to acknowledge her request by carefully sliding the straps of her dress down her shoulders and arms.

He watched her skin become more and more exposed with intense focus, taking note of the way her nipples seemed to salute him once they met the bedroom air. He acknowledged both of them with a soft caress that earned a whimper from Patrice as she watched him handle her with care.

Never in her life had been methodically unwrapped like a present on Christmas morning. Her heartbeat had gone below her waist, throbbing in an almost painful cry for her lover’s attention. Terry kept her yearning at bay with a slow kiss while he pushed her garment past her hips and to the floor.

Patrice disrobed him with an equal measure of care, offering quick kisses across the expanse of his chest while she slid her hand past his Calvin Klein waistband. Round, doe eyes looked back up at him to catch the precise moment when Terry’s eyelids blinked closed from the sensation of her fingertips brushing past his sensitive tip.

Her soft palms worked his shaft - up and down, up and down - until his member was proud and bobbing from the weight of itself without something keeping it at bay.

Fearing what might happen if he let her continue, Terry pulled her back to his body for sensual openmouthed kisses on her full lips. The soft smack of their lips and tongues created perfect harmonies in the still room, communicating more desire than either of them could effectively vocalize.

The intensity began to rise at exponential rates, sending them in a clumsy frenzy to the bed for somewhere stable to fully experience one another. Terry’s back hit the cool cotton sheets first with Patrice collapsing on top with a surprised yelp that made them both laugh.

“Don’t fight it,” Terry instructed, pushing a stray piece of hair from her face while he stared up at her lovingly. “Let go. I got you.”

His reassurance made her heart do a backflip on the way to its new home between her legs. She needed him in the worst way.

Terry leaned up to kiss her lips once, twice, and once more to linger. His fingertips traced a blazing path from her waist to the bottom of her ass to partially push her forward in a silent plea to kiss her where he missed her most.

“Let me taste you. Is that okay?”

Something about the way he asked for permission with eyes those stormy eyes robbed Patrice of her ability to respond with words. He prompted her to move forward again with a soft tap on her backside, finally convincing her to lift her hips and scoot toward his face.

Cautiously, she hovered above his mouth with thick thighs flanking either side of his head.

He moved slow with sweet kisses and lazy licks to mix spit with her wetness in a one-sided love song to his favorite girl. He was effortlessly sexy, combining broad strokes of his tongue between her lips with expertly timed sucks at her clit to elicit filthy words that fueled his best oral performance yet.

He ignored every plea for mercy and her cries for a break to compose herself. There was only one objective. Two if he were lucky to push her into a water show for the ages.

Animalistic instinct had them trading moans in time with each other, fully in throws of passion. Every grind against his nose and call of his name made Terry want to show her the full extent of his skill.

His face glistened beneath her with his eyes still low but open enough to get the full visual of her undoing.

“Terry, that is - oh…shit.”

Full sentences became senseless babble as she clamped her eyes shut to brace for that familiar feeling pooling in the pit of her belly. Patrice struggled to maintain focus on herself while Terry enjoyed his new favorite meal.

The velvety smoothness of his tongue took broad passes from her entrance to her clit, stopping every so often to chase wetness that had escaped to her thighs. He wanted every drop and then some.

His moans and groans as he feasted vibrated against her most sensitive spots, turning her mind into television static. Seeing her unravel with every soft suckle at her clit and agonizingly slow, broad lick across her swollen lips drove him to near-obsessive levels of lust.

Her chest heaved in a fight to keep her heart rate level as his efforts to make her cum for the first time became more targeted.

“Fuck, baby” she moaned, finally taking a look down to watch the master in his element. “Look at you. You gon’ make me cum, huh?”

Terry seemed to smile at her admiration. If he could get her to talk back, her eventual undoing when all was said and done would be that much more satisfying.

Taking her challenge, he began to push her to her limit. She was putty in his mouth as he brought her closer and closer to the edge, soft sucking turning into a talented tongue making moans devolve into nonsensical utterings until she was squirming for release while his arms kept her locked in place for a wild ride.

Almost there. Almost there. Then a brief pause to start from the top. More lazy passes and passionate kisses to rev her up to the point of delirium and practically screaming to finish.

Just when she thought she may have to threaten him on the third revolution of his torture, he delivered on his promise from the bar.

Colors emitted smells. Sounds became vivid pictures across her eyes. She could taste the stars as she erupted in a way she’d never done before. The prickle of his facial hair on sensitive skin felt like shockwaves on her skin.

“Oh fuuuuck! Yesyesyes!”

Her hips jerked without her permission, taking Terry’s face on the ride of his life. He kept up through it all with no objections. If death came from her thighs cutting him off from the oxygen needed to breathe he’d wear death like a badge of honor in the afterlife.

Another string of expletives fell from her lips in tandem with Terry’s muffled groan as she gripped the sheets below her for dear life. This was Heaven. She was sure of it.

Terry took one last deep inhale with his nose pressed against her pussy before kissing along the warm skin of Patrice’s inner thigh while she came down. She caressed what she could reach of his head in appreciation and beckoned him to release his suction on her pussy.

She rushed to get back to his lips to taste herself on his mouth and he welcomed her with open arms.

Kissing. Grinding. Skin-to-skin friction. None of it was enough for Terry. He desperately needed to be inside her to satisfy the near-painful stiffness he was experiencing.

His attempt to flip Patrice on her back was futile once she pressed her weight into his legs to keep him in place. He roughly nipped at her shoulder before trying again with the same result.

“C’mon,” he pleaded, almost begging for the go-ahead to fill her to the hilt in one smooth motion.

Still, she denied him pleasure. Patrice shifted to straddle his waist, slowly dragging her hands up and down his torso while his stomach clenched from the warmth of her core on his body.

“Lay back,” she breathed out, partially lifting her hips to reposition herself on top of his length. He hissed at the sensation of her gingerly dragging her wet, warm entrance against his shaft. “I’mma handle this one. Relax, baby.”

If there was a thought to be had, Terry couldn’t piece it together to save his life once Patrice completely enveloped him inside her slick walls. His jaw tightened then fell slack once she began to work her magic. A slow bounce and grind combination in his lap kept her breast rolling in a lewd show with Terry as the lucky winner of a front row ticket.

Patrice kept her head thrown back like a cowgirl, feeling perspiration gather on her forehead while he gave him all she had. His hands giving her firm smacks on the hip and ass acted as a round of applause each time she buried him deep and pulled back up with expert precision.

Her right hand slid from its spot on his chest to his throat for a barely there squeeze just as a quiet gasp made her aware of another incoming orgasm.

The feel of her thumb gripping his esophagus made Terry expel a sound that he wasn’t aware he could make, somewhere between a whimper and a growl awakening each of his senses.

The sight brought him the beautiful visual of her eyes shut tightly in concentration while she glowed like a heavenly body from the lamp’s light. Her hair had slipped out of its bun, leaving a lion’s mane of coils to toss wildly in the wind.

Smell brought with it the earthy scent of sweat and the lingering musk of her pussy. A smell that could awaken a deep longing in him in even the direst circumstances. If he could bottle it and wear it as fragrance, he’d do so proudly just to have her with him at all times.

Hearing pulled in the sound of their skin slapping together in time with the intermingling moans in the room. He’d never been so loud before, so unabashedly in the moment with another woman. He cursed, called her name, and praised her with equal ferocity.

Touch was satisfied by the handful of ass he used to ease the stress on her thighs while she bucked wilder than ever before.

Something akin to a growl erupted from his throat as he strained to hold back release. “You doing so good for me, baby. You know I love you right?”

“Yes!” she cried out, hips starting to sputter out of control with Terry gently stretching her on every stroke.

He wrapped his arms around her waist tighter as he fucked into her in search of their shared release. She sagged forward for the ride, her brain turning into mush while her mouth hung open with no sounds.

“Good.” His voice came through clenched teeth. “Because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

She put up no resistance as he paused his pounding to flip her onto her back with a dancer's grace. Having her laid out beneath him, body open, leaking, and waiting for him was as exciting as the first time. He was reinvigorated. Any onset of sore muscles and tired hips was gone the moment she keened for his attention.

Terry’s eyes were blown wide with excitement while he decided where to put his mouth first. He quickly settled on one of her legs, slowly lifting it by the ankle to lick and kiss the birthmark by her Achilles. His tongue traced an invisible map past her heel, to her pedicured toes, and back to her calf before closing his lips to cap his display of affection. He propped the leg on his shoulder and then pressed forward to bring his chest down over hers.

Patrice’s small mewls from the burning in her hamstrings became caught in Terry’s mouth as searched her mouth with sloppy enthusiasm. Her whining grew louder still once his tip pressed past her entrance.

“You can take it,” he affirmed, pushing deeper. “I know you can. I’m so proud of you.”

Affirmations and appreciative pecks across her face overrode aching muscles. She wanted, needed, to please him.

They released content sighs in tandem once they were pelvis to pelvis. A snug fit made every long stroke intoxicating as Terry set an even pace.

The repeated squeak of the bed added to their symphony of sounds growing more rabid by the second. They were off to the races on the way to an explosive finish line.

Terry was relentless as he kept her in place for a proper and precise fuck that reached all the way to her heart. She’d begun thinking up baby names and nursery themes when he split his attention between earth-shattering penetration and the addition of his thoughtful stimulation of her clit to cover all bases. She was just along for the ride and hoping that she could keep her volume at a reasonable level when the inevitable took over.

Patrice was the first to cum just as Terry intended. Her back arched off the bed in near levitation while she called his full name and the Lord’s to the ceiling.

“That’s what I like, beautiful. Give me everything.”

He smiled down at his work, obsessed with the sight and sounds of her much-deserved orgasm. She couldn’t hold back if she wanted to. Wetness coated both of them as her hips circled to feel him fill her to the brim while a rush of endorphins flowed through her nervous system.

At the crest of her wave is where he came undone.

The involuntary clinching sent Terry into a tailspin of frenetic strokes and broken sentences with his face tucked firmly into Patrice’s neck. She comforted him through it all, speaking directly into the shell of his ear and punctuating every few words with a soft kiss.

“I wanna do this for the rest of our lives. Don’t you want that, baby?” Terry forwent a verbal answer in favor of a short grunt as his pace became erratic. “Fill me up. Let’s try for that son you used to tell me about.”

“Fuck, Treece.”

“Maybe we’ll name him after you. He’ll have my eyes and your smile, hm. Think you can do that for me tonight. I know you wanna cum. Do it for me, baby. Go ahead.”

The magic words. He came with a gruff groan and a slew of profane words that would otherwise be offensive to any outside of the bubble they’d created in those walls. His toes cramped, eyelids clamped shut, and ears rang while every breath came out shaky and labored. Patrice joined him throughout the ride until he returned to the Earth’s atmosphere.

Neither of them moved, preferring to hear the other’s steady in and out while their chests rose and fell together.

“One year,” Terry started, keeping his attention focused on bringing Patrice’s ring finger to his lips as he lay on her chest.

She paused the imaginary circles she was drawing on his shoulders and looked down at him. “One year what?”

“Gimme a year and you’ll be coming down the aisle or standing in front of the judge, whichever one you want. Where you wanna honeymoon?”

“Mmm, how about Puerto Rico?”

“Done. Summer wedding?”

“Early fall.”

“10-4.”

“Yeah,” Patrice questioned, giggling. “And what else? What’s next?”

“Making our parents grandparents, hopefully. I’m trynna be an honest man. Take me out the streets, please!”

Patrice’s cackle at Terry’s antic invited him to join at full volume. “An honest man, huh? I can do that for you. I’ll make an honest man out of Terrence Richmond, no problem. It’s the least I could do.”

“Mhmm.” Regaining some strength in his body, Terry kissed his way from her chest to her mouth, only stopping when he had her arching into him for more contact. He spoke with his nose pressed to hers. “Patrice Nicole Richmond. Sounds good, right?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Terry hummed his approval, preferring to get back to the worship he had planned from the moment they set off to New Orleans.

Every second in their lives, together and apart, had brought them to a new beginning that neither of them could’ve imagined. If tonight was day one of forever, they vowed before each other and God to make it glorious one day at a time.

Terry had lost a lot. Money, family, himself. But under the white glow of a full moon and the touch of the one he cherished most, he’d gained so much more. Something he’d been searching for without the word to call it by its name until he got back to her front step one afternoon.

Love.

----

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @hrlzy @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl

#terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #rebel ridge #aaron pierre

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trying-harder-then-u · 1 year ago

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Johnny's Daddy

Johnny has been my friend since forever, and while we grew apart in High school, we would always make sure to comfort each other through all the tough times. He helped me with my breakup, and I helped him when he lost his job.

Johnny was always on the smaller side; Puberty Hit never really got to him, and while he never got the muscles he wanted, he eventually became quite happy with his body and my numerous numerous offers to wing man him and help him get a girl were always turned down.

Earlier today, my phone pinged while I was at work. Johnny had messaged me:

"Hey man, could you come to my place after work?"

"Sure? What do you need?"

"I'll explain when you get here."

Me and Johnny had always been open and clear without ever really needing to talk outside of texts, so I thought this must be something big if he wanted to talk about it at his place, so after work finished up, I got in my car and drove to his apartment in the city. After a good 50 minutes of driving through the winding roads, I finally arrived.

As I opened the door, he came and hugged me. "How was the drive?" "Nothing special, just some traffic jams and that stuff," I responded. For the first few hours, we just hung out talking about life and playing games before I finally asked why he wanted me here: "Well, I wanted to tell you I was gay." he blushed as he said it, "Damn man, thanks for telling me; I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me, do you want to go to a gay bar or something?"He shook his head at my question: "You don't understand; I've been trying to get a boyfriend for awhile now, but it never works out, and I wanted to ask you if...." "I'm sorry, man," I interjected. "I love you like a brother, but I don't feel the same way about you." "Okay, sorry, I hope we can still be friends," Both of us laughed awkwardly at the incident, but decided to hang out some more. At about 6, we were both getting hungry, so he ordered a pizza, and he got up to grab us a drink. I heard what sounded like pills rattling in the kitchen before he returned with some beers, caps removed. "Thanks, man," I said as he handed me one. Taking a sip, I thought it tasted funny, but I just shrugged it off as the pizzas had just arrived and i was starving.

As we ate and played video games, it became latter and latter, and the beers piled up, each tasting stranger, then the last. At some point, my mind started to became fuzzy. "Ugh, I don't feel good," i said. "You don't look good either. Maybe you should just sleep here for the night."Johnny commented, Too tired to argue, I ended up on his couch and fell asleep quickly as he went back to the room. "You'll be fine; I bet you feel like a new man tomorrow morning," he called as he closed the door.

That night, as I shuddered in my sleep, my body began to change, moving around as my stature grew, stretching from 5 feet 8 to 6,2. My flab melted away as my skin tightened around new abs that began to push out one by one, and calves became strengthened along with arm muscles. My round face gained structure as a square jaw and clear skin gave my face a new, more attractive look. But it wasn't just my body changing; my dreams began to shift; thoughts that I used to have about women became directed towards Johnny; as I dreamed of dominating and using him, the apartments that we each had eventually became one, just as my place had his boyfriend cemented, and soon I was picturing him submitting to me every night. As these dreams peaked, I felt my dick pulse, lines of cum shooting out as my rock-hard cock lengthened, growing longer and longer inside my underwear from it's normal 4 inches to a monstrous 9, and my boxers turning to briefs as they were soaked in my semen. The transformation was over, and my new place in the world was confirmed.

The next morning, Johnny smirked as he walked in to be greeted by me staring at him in nothing but my briefs. "I have a job for you, boy; I need some services," I commanded, His dick jumped up, and his body shuddered as he moved towards me. All memories of my past life disappeared as he wrapped his lips around my dick; all that mattered was teaching my boyfriend his place.

#sexuality change #muscle growth tf #mental changes #straight to gay #male transformation #cock growth #jockification #personality change #mental change #himbo tf

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seouljazzbar · 7 months ago

Text

selfish (m.)

𓃹𓂃𓂃𓃹𓂃𓂃𓃹𓂃𓂃𓃹𓂃𓂃𓃹𓂃𓂃𓃹

about— wonbin’s a musical prodigy, having worked alongside critically acclaimed producers, and now he’s your guest lecturer for the semester. correction, your hot lecturer for the semester (producer!wonbin x f.reader)

author’s note— this is a little rough but i still like the way it turned out! title is from this song if anyone's curious hehe i think it's wonbin coded lowkey

warning— language, teacher-student dynamic, me blatantly lying about new york/nyu, alcohol use, (soft?) dirty talk, fingering (f. receiving), whiny wonbin, oral (m. receiving), teasing, penetrative sex (with a condom!!) 18+ MDNI!!!

word count— 5.3k

Thursdays and Fridays from four to six, those were his office hours. It was difficult to have office hours that fit everyone’s schedule and that was the best he could do given he was only a guest lecturer. Even worse, he wasn’t given an office for said hours due to the deconstructed nature of the city. Going to university in New York was already far from traditional, and the conditions were no exception. But Wonbin didn’t mind, reserving a nice table on the second floor of Gregory's coffee on Broadway. It wasn't much but it was enough for the four or five students who took advantage of the time.

You were one of them. You knew all too well the struggle of falling behind in a class by thinking you had a handle on the material, only to be drowning in confusion come midterms. The class, The Sociology of Pop Music, interested you too much for you to risk completely flopping just because you failed to utilize your resources. But it wasn’t just your grade that you cared about. It helped that the guest lecturer in question was unbelievably sexy, an absolute dreamboat wunderkind who was just barely older than the students he was in charge of.

Park Wonbin, musician to the stars. He’d worked with countless acclaimed producers, written for most of the Billboard Hot 100 artists, and even put out his own flawless body of work that gifted him one Grammy and several nominations. He was an absolute icon at the ripe age of twenty-two and you were dying to sink your claws into him. Soft and athletic, inky black waves, a bashful smile and a voice that the heavens surely blessed him with. His presence was more distracting than conducive for your precious six-figure education, your thighs clenching together every Tuesday and Thursday that he took his place at the professor’s podium.

But you weren't the only one. Nearly everyone in the class was crushing on him, eyes batting as they asked elementary questions and giggles erupting at even his worst attempts at jokes. You felt like a dime a dozen lusting after him, gnawing your lower lip at the way his back muscles flexed when he turned to write something on the board. Get a grip, you’d think to yourself. You’re fighting for a slot on a list of many.

So you amused yourself with your self-labeled delusion, daydreaming about him outside of class and showing up to his office hours to clear up even the smallest of questions about the week’s lectures. He was careful with every word, taking his time to cultivate thorough responses to any and all questions you thought up for him, even ones that stemmed outside of the class's margins.

You still remember the first time you saw him, your jaw nearly dropping to the floor as he entered the lecture hall like any other student. Except he headed straight for the front of the room, placing his bag down at a table near the podium where the staff chaperone was setting up. He picked up the small expo marker that sat on the table, taking off the cap to write wonbin on the white board in messy penmanship before he followed it up with a squiggly smiley face. You knew who he was, his name notorious in the music wing of your school considering what he’d accomplished at such a young age. His looks definitely didn’t hurt, either.

He smiled at you, sitting in the second row waiting for class to start. Most people opted to sit as far back as possible, in the seats that were easier to slip out of the classroom unnoticed. But you sat proudly in the second row, alongside a few other eager students who’d heard good things about the class. His smile felt so personal, the glint of his teeth nearly causing heart palpitations as you smiled back. He didn’t know your name just yet, and suddenly that was your life’s mission; to make this man say your name.

It almost made you think he was giving you special attention with the way he paid close attention to you, his eyes lighting up whenever you came around the coffee shop steps with your notes in tow. He’d even stay past six o’clock if there were too many people before you who needed help, always offering to buy you a cup of coffee or a pastry after having waited for so long. He was so attentive, leaning into your space to look over the notes you took and making sure you were following along correctly. It was hard not to drool over him, especially when you were two of the last people left on the second floor, looking like a couple to the onlooking world.

“I’m serious! I think I’m gonna ask him out.”

Winter rolled her eyes, closing the magazine that she was never really reading in the first place. "So, what? You'll fuck his brains out in his office and then walk into class like nothing happened?"

"Actually, he doesn't have an office." The thought made you blush, sneaking around with Wonbin while your classmates and professors were none the wiser. The taboo was too hot for you to let go of.

Another roll of her eyes, this time meant for you to see. "___, get a grip. You're just slobbering all over him because he's famous. At the end of the semester, you'll go back to eyeing that one saxophonist."

Winter was numb to the novelty surrounding celebrity and the likes of it. She was a not so struggling artist whose parents funded her entire lifestyle, and it had been that way her whole life. She'd had her fair share of moments in Page Six, and the lavish New York socialite life had grown old for her. Her friends were still in the scene, but she had long since retired. Winter's idea of a fun Friday night these days included watching The White Lotus while experimenting with cookie recipes (with hopes of making it into the NYT Christmas Cookie lineup, of course).

You didn’t tell any of your college friends, though. Sure, the whole university knew that he was guest-teaching a music-related course and that he was unbelievably attractive, but you never mentioned to your friends that you felt something between the two of you. As much as you trusted your small circle of friends, you knew that student-teacher relationships were absolutely prohibited, no exceptions. Knowing this did nothing to quell the insatiable thirst you had for him, or the flutter of your heart every time he locked eyes with you. You were willing to throw caution to the wind for him, knowing you officially had it bad for him the moment you started doodling his name in your notebook. It got to the point where you were ready to make your move, ready to invite him to an apartment party one of your friends was throwing.

It was a Thursday evening, another night of attending his office hours despite your ninety-five percent in the class. You were the last student left in the final minutes of his office hours, just the two of you at the moderately sized table of the café. Your hands were mere centimeters from touching where they were laid out on the table, his warmth radiating onto you as he penciled in some helpful reminders in the margins of your notes. Just as you parted your lips to speak, he interjected. “I think it would be best if you stopped coming to office hours.”

That was not what you were expecting him to say. “Oh, um. Alright. Can I ask why?”

“You’ve clearly got an amazing grip on the material, and if anything you’re wasting your time showing up so frequently. It would be better if I had the full two hours for the students who are really struggling.” He refused to look you directly in the eyes as he spoke, opting to stare at your notes instead.

“Oh. Okay.” You gathered up all of your notes and pencils as quickly as you could, shoving them into your backpack without caring if the edges curled. The chair skidded back as you stood from it, not bothering with a goodbye as you saw yourself out. It was humiliating, almost, for him to have given you such a backhanded compliment. You started ruffling through your attendance record in the class and decided that you could afford to miss Tuesday, too embarrassed to be seen by him so soon after.

You really dodged a bullet there, then. Just seconds away from making a move on him when he told you that you should stop showing up to the only semi-private time you had together. It made you feel more delusional than ever before, allowing yourself to think he might actually feel something for you, too. You ignored the tears of frustration teasing the corners of your eyes, running off to the subway station that would deliver you back to your lousy campus housing safely.

What you didn’t see, however, was Wonbin nervously pulling at the ends of his hair. He was always such a bad liar but he knew he needed to put on the performance of a lifetime in order to get you to leave him alone. Considering it was quite the opposite of what he wanted you to do. There was something so intoxicating about you, your voice, your lips, your scent, that had him thoroughly fucked for you. Legally, he didn’t feel bad about it. But the professor he was working under, as well as the university, had already told him that under no circumstances was he to have dalliances with any of the students. So there he was, stuck thinking about you and not being able to do anything about it.

He had everything under control, at first. A few stolen glances during class but nothing to raise suspicion, just long enough for it to seem casual. Then it was finding you on social media, careful not to like any posts or to actually follow you, which made him feel like he was in full creeper mode. That was where he decided to draw the line until you started showing up to his office hours consistently, just as gorgeous as ever as you plopped down next to him in full concentration. He let himself indulge for a while, showering you with just a bit of special treatment until he realized he was crossing into dangerous territory. So he drew the line without a second thought.

You felt like you were back in high school, throwing a fit over being rejected by your longtime crush. All he’d done was politely ask you not to attend office hours anymore, but it felt like he’d told you off. You tried to convince yourself that it was because of your education, that you didn’t appreciate him taking away a resource that was proving itself helpful for you. But the real reason, the one you didn’t want to admit, was that you knew he felt it too. The storybook surge of electricity when his shoulder brushed yours and the way he never offered to get any of the other students coffee and pastries. The way he’d sometimes call you by a nickname when you were together or the way he spoke so highly of you in your exam notes. It was more than a one-sided schoolgirl crush and he was denying it just the same as you, and you couldn’t ignore how much it stung.

Saturday night was your chance to forget all about it. A friend of Winter's had convinced her to open up her ridiculously large penthouse for a laidback party, and she reluctantly agreed. You went to the party having skipped Wonbin’s office hours the evening before, successfully resisting the urge to 'drop by' the coffee shop casually; that would've been worse than just going to office hours. You were ready to let loose, your body a bit tense after the marathon overthinking session you had when Wonbin all but rejected you. All done up in one of your favorite ‘going out’ getups, you set yourself at a three drink maximum before starting the trek there.

You arrived considerably late, the party in full swing by the time you stepped off the elevator and onto the floor. There were so many people, sweaty bodies and intoxicated breaths, so much so that you almost missed him. He was leaning up against one of the kitchen countertops, nursing a drink of his own as he chatted with your friends. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the sight, almost annoyed that you ran in the same circles. But you pushed it aside to go talk to them, knowing they’d have a drink in your hand faster than you could make one. “___! You made it!” Wonbin’s eyes shot up to you making your way over to them, a raspy ‘fuck’ making its way off of his tongue. He suddenly felt trapped, nowhere to run as his student joined his little conversation circle. “Have you met Wonbin?”

“Yeah, we know each other. From around.” You avoided his gaze at all costs. “I need a drink.”

Wonbin quirked an eyebrow at you, “You drink?”

“Yeah, is that a problem?”

He cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting his weight to the other foot as he avoided eye contact with you. “I just, you know… Are you old enough for that?”

“Ew, don’t be gross. I’m a uni student, I’m not in daycare. I’m twenty-one, promise.”

You were baiting him, and he knew it. Your anger was directed at him and only him, your bubbly demeanor intact for your friends as you caught each other up on the last month or so of your lives. You had no intention of making this night, or his life, easy. You knocked back the drink your friend Sohee gave you easily, sending Wonbin a sarcastic wink as he stared at you.

Even though your mind was begging you to run, you refused to let him ruin your night. They were your friends, too, and things were only awkward because he made them so. You stood your ground, pretending like he wasn’t even there as the conversation ebbed and flowed naturally, the party music seeming to follow suit. Everything was fine until someone who’d had too many came barreling into the kitchen, spilling their sticky spiked punch all over your legs. You let out a curse as it spilled into your shoes, the sensation far too uncomfortable to ignore.

“Here, go clean up in my bathroom.” Winter handed you the key, sending you off with a gentle shove in the direction of her bedroom.

You didn’t bother locking the door back behind you, knowing you’d be in and out before anyone could miss you. You took the time to freshen yourself up as well, poking around in Winter’s cabinets to see if she had anything exciting or ridiculously expensive. Perfumes, hand creams, serums. Sometimes you forget how rich New Yorkers could be. You turned the light off in the bathroom, turning to leave when you nearly jumped out of your skin at the pair of eyes watching you. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

“You didn’t lock the door back.”

Wonbin crossed further into the room, hands in his pockets as he watched you. Even when you were irritated with him, his charm was able to cut through your faux harsh exterior. “I'm sorry, is this allowed? Or does this count as office hours, too? Should I see myself out so that other partygoers can take advantage of your precious time?”

“___, stop. I was just trying to make a decision based on what I thought was best.”

You scoffed at that, trying to ignore just how close he’d gotten to you. “Yeah, right. There’s only like five people who bother showing up anymore, so I don’t know why me showing up is such a big deal? Like you must think awfully highly of yourself if you th—”

He cut you off with a swift kiss, lips finding yours in the pale lighting of the bedroom as you froze. Time seemed to slow; just barely noticeable, but you could feel it. Like one minute felt like two with his hands cupping your cheeks and his hips pressed against yours. You relaxed into his touch, daring to kiss back as the party outside seemed to disappear. All your senses could focus on was him and the way he seemed to consume you.

He walked you backwards, stopping as you stumbled into a wall. The once innocent kiss grew in desperation, your hands everywhere at once as your tongues clashed over and over again. It could’ve easily been a dream with how much you’d both had to drink, the taste of tequila fresh on his lips as you begged for more. Your leg hooked around his waist to draw him closer, a gasp slipping from your lips as you felt how hard he was through his jeans. And then he just stopped.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t have done that.” He was breathless, his words not matching his desire as he slowly backed away from you. “This is exactly what I was trying so hard to avoid. I'm your superior, ___, I'd get fired for this.”

Your mind was blank, not a single thought worthy of being voiced in response to him. You knew it was wrong, knew his position could be terminated, but you didn’t care. Not when his touch was so addictive and your name sounded so sweet on his lips.

“This… this never happened, okay? And it can never happen again.”

He stalked off to rejoin the party, leaving you breathless and unsure of if any of that was real. The only evidence was the faint waft of his cologne that stayed behind, taunting you with the memory of his kiss. His soft, heated, spine-tingling kiss that had your head spinning from the feeling of it. Your lips were puffy from it, fingers reaching up to touch them delicately as if you could scare away the feeling somehow.

Your thoughts were interrupted by him coming back in, locking the door behind him as you fixed your hunched over posture. “Fuck it, fuck this job, I don’t need to be a guest lecturer.” His hands found your hips as he pulled you in once again, kissing you with much different intent behind it. “This is all I've been able to think about this semester.”

You let out a whimper, clawing at his shirt as his teeth pulled at your lower lip. His hands smoothed their way up your body, cupping your breasts through the material of your shirt as you moaned into his mouth. This felt real, no doubt in your mind as you melted like putty in his hands. “Do something.”

His lips migrated to your ear, licking along the shell of it as your head tipped back. “Do you want my fingers?” You nodded sheepishly, cheeks flooding with heat in a sudden wave of shyness. “Then spread your legs for me, baby.” Your body obeyed him without question, legs spreading for him to slip his hand between. He could feel how wet you were through the pants you were wearing, your underwear no match for the arousal he was responsible for. Your fingers fumbled with the button of them, popping it open and dragging the zipper down.

You knew this was a bad idea. Whether you cared or not, having his hand slip past your panties was wrong on so many levels, no matter how good it felt. His reputation and your academic career were on the line, but you couldn’t will yourself to stop him. Not when your body was yearning for more, thighs clenching at the circles he was rubbing against your clit. Not with his lips scaling your neck with kisses that only made your knees weaker than they already were.

Your resolve finally melted when he slipped a finger into your warm heat, the stretch easily out-rivaling anything your own fingers provided. The relief sent you into a spiral of high pitched sighs and moans as he added another, curling them near perfectly against your g-spot.

“Sound so pretty for me, baby. Wanna put your moans in a song.” The thought alone made your stomach twist, visions of riding him in his studio while he held his microphone up to your lips. He could see the shift in your expression at the suggestion, teeth practically destroying your lower lip. “Is that what you want, baby? Wanna be my muse?”

All you could do was nod as the heel of his palm pressed against your clit, your orgasm crashing over you much sooner than you expected. He kissed you through the waves of pleasure, swallowing the pleas of his name and the whimpers from the slight overstimulation of your clit. The cherry on top, though, was when he licked his fingers clean of your arousal without once breaking eye contact. It made you shudder.

Neither one of you knew where to go from that moment on, the heat of it all long gone as you faced reality head on. You zipped your pants back up to break the silence, fluffing your hands through your hair to alleviate any signs of sexual activity before rejoining the party. Not a word to Wonbin before going back like nothing happened, even though the uncomfortable dampness of your panties said otherwise.

unsaved number, 3:25am

↳ it’s Wonbin, i got your number from sohee. we should meet soon

you, 9:08am

↳ yeah? where?

wonbin, 9:09am

↳ 150 east 14th st, @ 11

you, 9:12am

↳ smh making me get my day started on a sunday morning

His apartment was as well kept as him, minimalistic in all its glory but decorated with his achievements wherever he saw fit. Awards, records, framed lyrics, any and everything he felt deeply proud of. You knew that you shouldn’t be there, no matter what occurred the night before. Wonbin was irresistible, and giving into his invitation was practically asking for trouble.

“I got coffee and bagels, if you’re hungry.”

Not just any coffee, though. Coffee from Gregory's. Of course he’d do something like this, you thought. He's trying to prey on my sentimentality to get me in bed. Kinda smart. “Why am I here, Wonbin?”

“Well as of three o’clock this morning, I’m no longer your teacher.”

You nearly choked on nothing as he smiled at you, pulling up the email correspondence from the Dean. “I'm sorry, what?”

“I never needed that teaching job, anyway. I took it because it felt good helping students, but it was getting to be too much, cutting into my own work time. And then when we crossed that line last night… I knew quitting was just the right thing to do.” He walked gingerly toward you, assessing your reaction carefully as he closed the gap between you.

You looked at him incredulously, brows furrowed as if he’d grown a second head. “Y-you’re not my teacher anymore?”

“I'm not your teacher anymore.” He backed you up against the wall of his foyer, the position eerily similar to where you were mere hours before. Heat rose to your face as he gazed at you, his smirk painfully malicious as his hand cupped your jaw. “Lemme take you out on a proper date. Dinner… the Angelika… dessert.”

Your gulp seemed to echo the walls of his apartment, giving up any and all fronts you were trying to put up. You could feel his lips hovering over yours more than you could see them, the soft hum that reverberated as he asked you if you’d like that. “I'm… not sure we’ll make it to dessert.”

“I thought I taught you last night to always leave room for dessert.” He popped open the first button of your blouse, getting a peak at the lavender bra beneath it. You’d dressed up for him, knowing very well where things could lead and not wanting him to see you in your far less alluring Sunday attire. Your breath hitched at his touch, your mind shouting for you to just wait for the date before crossing any more lines. But there he was, just as sexy as ever, sliding the sleeves of your top down your arms with his forehead pressed against yours. Youd didn’t stand a chance.

Your back was hitting his mattress before you could gather the strength to hold off, more of your clothes in a tangled web on his floor than on your actual bodies. Your skin was saccharine, a sweetener he’d been searching for ever since he could identify its name and he couldn’t get enough of it. Marks of his lips were blooming on every inch he could reach, your body signed with his name in a way you never knew you needed. His name rolled off your tongue like it was the only word you knew, the two syllables your new favorite combination in the entire world.

His hands guided your slip skirt down your legs, discarding it carefully with the rest of your clothes as you tugged impatiently at his boxers. He was hard, dangerously so, and it was killing you not to see him in all of his naked glory. “Canisuckyouoff?” You didn’t even think about it, the words flying out of your mouth before you could even try to stop them.

“Seriously?” You were already flipping the two of you over, inching your way down his legs until your face was leveled with his hips.

“Yes, please. I wanna make you feel good.”

Nothing could’ve prepared you properly for his length springing out of his black balenciaga underwear. It would’ve been a shame if he wasn’t as well-endowed as you wanted, but you were mature enough to know that it wasn’t all about size. Wonbin, however, was all about size. He was probably just barely above average in length but he was thick with veins in all the right places that had you close to drooling all over him.

You licked at his tip in a graze, not enough to satisfy him but enough to get him squirming. Small, agonizing licks here and there that had him fisting at his hair in sheer frustration. You pitied him with a bold lick up the underside, but went right back to the teasing that had him close to tears. “___, fuck, I can’t take anymore of this. I thought you said you wanted to make me feel good.”

“I will, baby, you just have to be patient.”

He whined out, not sure how the rest of the afternoon was going to play out if you kept teasing him so mercilessly. He was just about to beg again for you to touch him when your lips wrapped around his tip, his back arching involuntarily and sending him further into your mouth. A guttural groan accompanied the pleasure pumping through his veins as you bobbed her head along his cock, swirling your tongue around him every so often. You had a primal need for more of him, more of the way he tasted and the precum that was oozing out of him. More of the way his groans switched to melodious moans as his climax neared him, more of the way his face was contorted in pleasure as your hands rubbed at his thighs.

His orgasm was building up in the pit of his stomach, the twine of tension pulling further and further until he was sure it was going to snap. Your mouth abandoning his cock in favor of his balls almost did the trick, your hand wrapping around him to jerk as you sucked one at a time. He pulled you off of him reluctantly, wanting so desperately to cum in your mouth but knowing he’d regret passing up the opportunity to fuck you. “I have condoms in the drawer.” His breath was ragged as he pointed the drawer out to you, his hair sticking to his forehead as his body heat was skyrocketing. You handed one to him before shuffling back to the bed, letting him climb over you clumsily with his arms supporting his weight.

He tapped his tip against your clit, running it between your folds as you bucked your hips toward his. “That's not fair.”

He slipped inside of you, barely an inch before pulling back out. He repeated the movement over and over until you were gripping at his hips in an attempt to force more out of him. “Isn’t it, though? You had your fun…” You were so wet that it was making it hard for him to keep up, your soaked walls pulling him in with every shallow thrust. “Have you learned your lesson yet, baby?”

You nodded your head furiously, feeling almost embarrassed by how much you needed him. He refused to give up so easily, though, continuing his perfectly angled thrusts that grazed your g-spot just enough to make your hips buck. "Wonbin, please."

His first full thrust had you clenching around him so tightly that he almost came on the spot, the warmth of you wrapped around him so overwhelming that he had to screw his eyes shut. Your eyes fluttered in satisfaction as he filled you to the brim, the stretch burning deliciously. All you could think about was the next time, and the time after that, and how he could stretch you out whenever he wanted to now. He was yours now.

His lips wrapped around your nipple as he slowly dragged himself in and out of you, savoring how tightly you were squeezing him. It was all the anticipation finally materializing into something he couldn’t get enough of. Your moans, your faces of pleasure, your scent, your taste. He wanted as much of it as you’d let him have, for however long you’d let him have it. "Is this what you were thinking of while I was trying to teach you? Hm? Thought about me stuffing you full of my cock?"

The only noise you could manage was a raspy moan, mind completely numbed by the sensation of his skin pressed against yours. You could feel your lips move, saying something along the lines of wanteditsobadbinnie, but the feeling of his nose dragging up the side of your neck distracted you.

Your bodies seemed to mold together as he picked up speed, drilling into you relentlessly as your nails dug into his hips, asking for more. The slap of your skin against each other was his kryptonite as he wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to hear it again and again until it played in his mind on a loop. He could feel the knot in his stomach warning him to slow down, to relish in the feeling a bit longer, but he didn’t care. Not when your lips were pressed right to his ear begging him not to stop. “Are you gonna cum for me?”

He tried to respond with a ‘yes’, but the absentminded clench of your walls sent him over the edge in a flash. He emptied himself into the condom, trying his hardest to focus all of his efforts on pushing you towards your own orgasm. His fingers found your clit between your sweaty bodies, the rough pad of his thumb orbiting your clit until you joined him in your own throes of euphoria. Your nails clawed down the expanse of his back as your vision blurred, ecstasy replacing every cell in your body as he kissed along your jaw.

The room smelled of sex and the remnants of his body wash, both of you fighting for air as you wrapped yourselves in his sheets. Your fingertips danced across his chest as he watched you wordlessly, face flushed with the evidence of your Sunday afternoon in. “What are you thinking about?” He caught your hand in his, eyes still trained on your face.

“Honestly? Trying to remember if there are any hidden corners in the Angelika where we can have sex.” You looked up at him as he laughed, a smile of your own creeping onto your lips. “What? Too honest?”

“You’re kinda perfect, you know that?”

His lips pressed chastely against your temple. “Yeah, actually, I do.”

#wonbin x reader #wonbin imagines #wonbin smut #riize smut #riize hard hours #wonbin hard hours #riize scenarios #riize x reader #riize imagines #riie x reader smut #park wonbin smut #seouljazzbar

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formulawolff · 7 months ago

Text

xiii. show the world - t.w.

pairing: female!driver x toto wolff

word count: 2.7k

warnings: cursing, angst, lots of angst to be completely honest, pining, age gap relationship, toto being down bad per usual, two idiots in love but won't admit it, yadayadayada

prev. | next.

“be honest with me. are you seeing someone?”

daniel brings a wine glass to his lips, tilting it back as you sit across from him, your fork clattering against the table. heat radiates off of your cheeks, flourishing into your neck as your eyes snap away from his intense stare.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

the sun was starting to set over the water, casting a tangerine glow across its surface. fluffy clouds float along, the sky bursting with lavender, fuschia, and cerulean hues. yachts drifted along, their lights beginning to glimmer as the sky grew dimmer and dimmer. on your left, it was almost like the city was given its first breath of night life, locals strolling along the streets, their conversations and the growl of engines as they zoomed along the streets merely white noise.

it was truly a breathtaking view, distracting you for just a moment, taking your focus away from the conversation at hand.

yet, you remember he’s awaiting your answer, arms folded across his chest, brows knit together. scrambling to formulate some sort of response, you gnaw on the inside of your cheek, shoulders slumping.

“what if i told you i was?”

“hmm,” daniel hums, downing the rest of his wine, “then i would say good for you, i guess.”

“oh come on,” your regain your composure, frustration brewing in the pit of your stomach, “i thought we consensually agreed that we wouldn’t explore a relationship because we needed to keep things professional.”

“i did that because that’s what you wanted,” daniel swivels his head, glancing out at the water, “i never agreed to that. i only respected your wishes because that was what you wanted. i never wanted that. i wanted you.”

“but you never told me,” you protest, absentmindedly picking at your ratatouille, “that night in jeddah, i vividly remember you telling me that you never acted on your feelings because you knew that it was one-sided.”

daniel huffs, shaking his head, “i didn’t think i would’ve had to spell it out for you. i was under the impression you knew that i had feelings for you. and actually, i thought you reciprocated those same feelings. thank you for reminding me of the cold hard truth. i feel so much better about this. thanks for that.”

“you’re not being very mature about this. what happened to staying emotionally mature about the matter?”

“i was doing that until i heard from alex that you were dating someone,” daniel retorts, his tone seething with fiery anger, “you couldn’t just tell me yourself? also, how long were you going to keep that from me? were you just not going to mention it until i found out?”

“i didn’t think it was important,” you shrug, shrinking in your seat as pairs of eyes sear into you, the stares becoming more and more prominent as daniel’s voice carries throughout the patio.

“starting a relationship with someone isn’t important?”

“daniel,” you hiss, desperately wishing you were wearing a cap or some sunglasses, “people are starting to stare.”

“okay and?” he cocks his head, “i don’t give a fuck. you have no fucking idea how heartbroken i’ve been these last few weeks. i feel like my entire world has been turned upside down. meanwhile you’re frolicking around with some douchebag from st. louis. obviously the dick is must have you in a chokehold because you’ve been a completely different person.”

“daniel, please,” the notes in your tone raise an octave as your lower lip trembles, “stop, please. people are listening. can we talk about this some other time–”

“well luckily for you,” daniel inhales sharply, rising to his feet, “i don’t want to discuss it any further. i’m done here. see you around, america’s princess.”

tossing his napkin on the table, the australian snatches the keys to his rental, muttering under his breath. you remain at the table, people resuming back to their previous conversations as the waitress comes by, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“is everything all right, madame?”

“i just need the check please,” you mumble, tears threatening to spill over as you reach for your purse, “i’ll pay for it all. i am so sorry about that.

“no worries madame,” the waitress chirps, “would you care for a free dessert for your troubles?”

you know what? free dessert didn’t seem too bad after all.

“oui, s’il vous plait.”

at your response, the waitress’ lips curve into a wide grin, “tu es le bienvenu.”

letting out a shaky breath, you wipe away a tear, pulling your phone out of your purse. swallowing the lump in your throat, you message the one person you needed most.

i hope things are going well on your end tonight. is there any chance you can come by my hotel room, or i swing by yours? it would be later tonight. i want my sexy, smoochable, handsome boyfriend. :’(((((

the moment you send the message, three little bubbles appear, signaling that he had received it, and was crafting a reply.

i take it the dinner didn’t go well? what happened, meine liebe? ich vermisse dich auch.

wrinkling your nose, you highlight the text, tapping the copy option. thumb gliding across the screen, you click on the google translate app, pasting it into the textbox.

what happened, my love? i miss you too.

i can explain more later. you type, are you busy?

never too busy for you. remember, we’re in monaco. i own a place here. 😘 you can just come by whenever you need. i’m at home. do you need the address?

yes please. i’ll be there as soon as possible.

i can’t wait to see your beautiful face. here’s the address. i’ll be waiting impatiently.

the second you type his address in your phone, the waitress comes by your table, a box in one hand, billfold in the other. placing the box on the table, you anticipate her to do the same with the check. yet, she doesn’t keeping it in her grasp.

“madame, your meals have been taken care. a gentleman called, inquiring if he could foot the bill. he stated he did not want you to worry about anything else this evening. is that all right?”

your heart flutters, “did he say a name, by chance?”

“no madame,” the waitress flashes you a quaint smile, “again, i am so sorry if your evening has been ruined in any sort of way. i hope the dessert helps in some fashion!”

“thank you,” you reciprocate the gesture, “and again, thank you for the dessert.”

“it is no problem,” the waitress dips her head, “have a great evening, madame!”

rising to your feet, you push in your chair, ensuring that you don’t forget the plain white box that was placed on the table. carrying it under your arm, you pull up your maps app, feeling a grin form.

maybe tonight will not end as poorly as it began.

you could thank toto wolff for that.

ever since miami, you felt as if the weight of the world was off your shoulders. the stress was alleviated, dissolving almost completely. you could go about your day without that ever-present thought in the back of your mind, gnawing away at you.

however, there were more mountains to climb. more obstacles to face.

you had yet to sit down with james, alex, or anyone else really, to discuss your decision to depart from williams at the end of the 2024 season.

toto was the only one who knew.

and for the time being, you were okay with that.

but you were running out of time. the days were soaring by. you would blink and suddenly it would be time to board that flight. it would be time to get behind the wheel, adrenaline coursing through your veins. it would be time to step on that podium, raising that gleaming trophy above your head, your team roaring below.

with four grand prixs wins, three of which were back-to-back, you were unstopabble.

a force to be reckoned with.

max tried to catch you, he really did.

but you were too fast, fueled by the thrill of victory.

it was intoxicating, sending an electric, exhilarating buzz throughout your entire being every time you breezed across that finish line.

and with a man like toto by your side, how could you possibly lose?

with the monaco grand prix on the docket for the weekend, you were preparing for a challenging race. the circuit was extremely tight, the track interweaving through the buildings and sights the city. it was an infamous track, known for its rich history and well, the accidents.

additionally, there was little to no room for overtakes. so if you wanted to be on that podium on sunday, you had to execute a stellar qualifying lap. with that added pressure, you were a little apprehensive for what was to come.

yet, you couldn’t let that anxiety creep in. you had to maintain your composure. it was crucial that you kept a calm, cool outlook on the race.

and as you found yourself at that massive gate, pressing the button to your left, you couldn’t help but feel peace of mind.

you could thank toto wolff for that as well.

with every moment spent with the team principal, you couldn’t help but shake this aching, nagging feeling.

it was a pure, innocent feeling. one that filled you to the brim with bliss, a cozy warmth blossoming in your chest, your heart swelling with joy. one that had you beaming from ear to ear, your once gloomy days now shining with this golden, rich light.

you were in love with him.

hopelessly in love, your whole heart resting in his tender hands.

you couldn’t tell him that though. you couldn’t bring yourself to.

at least, not yet.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“all right,” james’ sucks in a breath, his head swiveling from side to side, taking in the commotion all around.

“are you ready?”

“come on,” you wave a hand, “you know the drill. i was born ready.”

“i know,” the team principal’s lips twitch as he fights a smile, “but this is a pretty significant race. there’s a lot of history and heartbreak on this track.”

“are you saying that you don’t think i can win?” you tease, your voice muffled slightly by the thick exterior of the helmet, “james, i can do this. believe me, i can do this.”

“there’s a lot at stake here,” he places a hand on the top of your head, patting it, “just remember, whatever happens, i believe in you. always.”

i believe in you. always.

your lower lip trembles, and in that moment, you want to confess right there. you almost blurt out the words that had been lingering on your tongue for weeks now.

james, after this race, we need to to talk.

however, you don’t. you simply nod, drumming your hands against the steering wheel, “i’ll make you guys proud, i promise.”

“oh, you already do,” his eyes glimmer, bursting with pride, “you’ve made us so fucking proud these last few weeks. and you know what? i know you’re going to continue to make williams racing proud. i can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us.”

fuck.

that conversation was going to absolutely destroy you, splitting your heart into two.

you couldn’t think about that, though.

the race was about to start.

on the grid, you were behind charles leclerc and oscar piastri. it wasn’t terrible positioning, but with the limited space, you knew that getting ahead would be nearly impossible. it would be a miracle if you were able to cross that finish line in first place.

yet, you were more than willing to take the risks involved to get to that position.

all you needed was a little bit of luck.

which, these days, it seemed like you were full of it. like you were carrying a four leaf clover in your pocket at all times.

as rays of sunshine filter through the clouds, a gold streak of light dances in your peripheral vision.

nestled on your wrist was the charm bracelet toto had gifted you that fateful night in jeddah. the charm gleams, reminding you of two things.

one, your very first grand prix victory.

two, that he was always with you.

perhaps he was that good luck charm you were desperately searching for.

maybe. just maybe.

in about seventy-eight laps, you would have that answer.

“and she has done the impossible! she has shattered yet another record! miss america has won monaco! she has won her fifth grand prix!”

“fuck yes!” you shout, “we won! we won monaco!”

“brilliant fucking job,” james’ voice trembles, thready with excitement, “bloody good job!”

euphoria crashes over you like a tidal wave, leaving you speechless as it sucks the air out of your lungs. burying your head in your hands, your shoulders shake as you sob.

never, in your wildest dreams would you have expected to have made it this far.

never would you even imagined racing as a little girl, let alone racing at this caliber.

and winning races? five of them?

little you, cheesing with her toothy five-year-old smile, standing next to a kart, helmet under her arm, wouldn’t have ever dreamed of this moment.

you had improved miles upon miles from the driver you were last season. you made history. time and time again. you had shattered records, obliterating barriers in the world of formula one racing as a twenty-two year old woman.

and fuck, you weren’t even done yet.

you still had a world title to chase after.

“holy shit. holy shit. holy motherfucking shit.”

stepping out of the car, your heart races, your team nearly sprinting to congratulate you. picking out james, you flash him a thumbs up. the crowd raves, whooping, whistling, and hollering your newfound nickname.

“miss america! miss america! miss america!”

cameras appear out of thin air, recording as you step down, james and alex swathing you with their embrace. alex rattles your helmet, james’ grin shining bright as the cameras flash.

“what a bloody brilliant day!” james shouts, a glossy sheen over his eyes, “what a fucking day!”

“what place did you finish, alex?” your voice rises above the noise, “what did you get?”

“ninth!” he chirps, “two drivers in the top ten? that’s a pretty fucking good day!”

“a very fucking good day,” laughter rises in your chest, spilling out, “fuck, that nearly took everything out of me!”

“well you better shape up,” alex pats your back, “because you have a podium that’s calling your name.”

as the team gathers, making their way to the finish line, your heart yearns for one thing. well, one person.

toto.

pursing your lips, your eyes scan through the garages, attempting to make out the mercedes paddock. yet, there is too much movement in your line of sight as the crew members assemble, circling around their respective drivers.

the euphoria lingers as your step onto the podium, the crowd below applauding. there are shouts that rise above the clapping, yet you can barely make them out.

surveying the mass, your heart skips a beat as you locate him.

his eyes lock with yours, pure, radiant adoration painted across his features.

that’s my girl. he mouths, dimples apparent with every word.

a few strands of hair flutter in his face, the top button of his shirt un-done, the fabric slightly wrinkled from the chaos of race day.

yet, he was as gorgeous as ever.

as charles and oscar pop open the champagne, you hesitate, fingers trembling as they wrap around the neck of the bottle.

you know what?

fuck this.

“hey!” charles calls out as you step down from the platform, “where are you going?”

there’s a brief moment of confusion from the crowd, a few gasps ringing out as you shoulder your way down the stairs, muttering numerous apologies as you accidentally elbow several people along the way.

there was only one thing on your mind as you nudged your way through the throng of people gathered beneath the podium. although your skin burned beneath your suit, sweat clinging to every part of you, there was this tugging sensation at your heart. it urged you to keep going. to keep searching.

you were face-to-face now, his brow furrowing with concern, arms folded across his chest as you take another step forward.

“what are you–"

that’s when toto wolff found your lips colliding with his, the entire world crumbling away as he found himself lost in you.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @k3ira13 @prettiest-at-the-party @martwll @annewithaneofthegreengable @zoeyjadetice2010 @sinners-98-world @laura-naruto-fan1998 @nebarious @joalslibrary @swifth0lic @statuewoman @strangegirl974 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @m-1234 @whoisss @msbyjackal @annaaepf1 @paigelouise @bborra @bblouifford @upsteadsstuff @omgsuperstarg @younxii @toldyouitwasamelodrama @kravitzwhore @persona1lies @pucksandpower

as always, if i forgot to add you, or if you would like to be added to the taglist, let me know! thank you all for the endless support and love for this series! y'all are the sweetest! <3

#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #alkaline series #alkaline: female driver! x toto wolff #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #formula 1 x reader #williams racing #mercedes amg petronas #alex albon #charles leclerc #daniel ricciardo #oscar piastri

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afterglowkatie · 8 months ago

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pair of pests | k.c.c.

kyra cooney-cross x reader | 1.1k | you and kyra should never be trusted together alone without supervision, especially when alcohol and a marker are involved

ˏˋ°•*⁀this is catley!reader - reader being Steph's younger sister! maybe i'll write more with this pairing bc it's quite fun to think of ideas for!

‘You ready yet loser,’ You heard your best friend call out for you since she let herself into Steph’s apartment where you had been staying since you’d moved from Manchester City to Arsenal. The Aussies internally dreading the moment you and Kyra would be reunited at club since they already had to deal with the two of you together on national camps. You always said Kyra was the fun sister you never had.

‘I’m ready!’ You posed in the hallway just outside your room, quick to pull Kyra into your room closing the door behind, ‘It’s just us tonight. Steph said something about not wanting to babysit us,’ You rolled your eyes, a light smile on your lips while you got out your little alcohol supply you had stashed away in your room.

‘Lame. Well we don’t need her to have fun,’ Kyra smirked, grabbing the vodka and shot glasses you’d pulled out. After a few shots you had an idea, taking the shot glasses and vodka out to the kitchen but demanding Kyra stays in your room. Smiling and laughing a little to yourself while you brought back the three shot glasses only one having vodka in it and the others just water.

‘Russian roulette?’ You laughed, raising your eyebrows slightly at her sitting down on the ground across from Kyra.

‘It’s not the same without a gun,’ Kyra mumbled out a little louder than expected.

‘Maybe one day,’ You casually shrugged before you both laughed out loudly knowing that would never happen. Steph would definitely intervene before the thought even got into action. She’d be able to tell something was up and stop whatever it was you were planning just by seeing the two of you share one tiny look at each other.

‘You totally got the shot! You can’t take it with a straight face to save your life,’ Kyra exclaimed laughing at the way you had scrunched your nose slightly. You did it every time and you’d been around Kyra enough that she had picked up on it.

‘Kyra,’ You whined, ‘No fair,’

‘Can’t help that I know my best friend better than she knows herself,’ Playfully flicking her hair behind her shoulder, making you shake your head and roll your eyes, pushing at her arm.

By the time you and Kyra even made it out of Steph’s apartment you were both a little more than tipsy, it was a surprise you even made it into anywhere. Wasting no time in grabbing drinks before you pulled your best friend out onto the floor to dance. Getting lost in the music and enjoying dancing with Kyra, only stopping when your head felt like it wouldn’t stop spinning.

Despite your head spinning you both made it back to the bar ordering round after round. You had no idea what Kyra was even saying anymore all you could do was sit there and smile nodding to make it seem like you weren’t just staring at the freckles on her face and how they seemed to be moving around.

Putting your empty glass down on the bar, you let out a huff since you couldn’t work out what pictures her freckles were trying to make. Too far gone to realise that nothing was actually moving around. When you were putting your glass down you’d spotted a marker sitting on top of the bar. Smirking you leaned over to grab it, Kyra watching you intently laughing when she saw you take the cap off and take it towards her face, ‘What are you doing?’

‘Connecting the dots,’ You said it so casually and without any hesitation as if it was just a normal thing to do. Soon enough Kyra’s face was filled with random shapes, hearts and flowers, all things you thought you could see in her freckles.

‘Let me have a turn,’ Kyra whined and tried to grab the marker from you.

‘But I don’t have any freckles Ky,’

‘Don’t be silly, they're everywhere!’ You let Kyra take the marker to your skin, her hand barely able to draw a straight line from how intoxicated you both were.

The rest of the night for the two of you was a complete blur. You don’t remember how you tried to get the bartender to give you more drinks, trying to get them to take you seriously that you weren’t out of your mind even with marker covering your faces. You don’t remember how you tried to dance again but ended up falling onto the floor and having to be escorted out of the bar. You don’t remember sitting on the sidewalk contemplating whether you should call Steph to pick you both up, but you couldn’t see the screen properly, getting annoyed and determinately getting up to walk back to the apartment.

You have no idea how you both even made it back to Steph’s, all you knew was that your neck and head hurt after waking up on the bathroom floor. The tiles were cool against your skin which you were thankful for, wanting to lay there until you could move your body properly. The smell of food being cooked ruined that idea for you, waves of nausea rolling through your body. Managing to lift yourself up you made your way into the kitchen.

‘Mornin’,’ You mumbled out towards Steph before seeing Kyra appear next to you, ‘Ky, how you feelin’?’ You weren’t paying much attention to her, more focused on the food wanting to ease how you were feeling.

‘As good as you look, like shit,’ Kyra shrugged, sitting at the counter grabbing the coffee Steph put in front of her, ‘What’s on your face by the way?’ Kyra was looking at your face, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

‘What do you mean?’ You saw Steph stifle her laughter, so you looked up at Kyra, eyes wide and holding back your own laugh, ‘You should see yours,’ Kyra pulled out her phone, turning to the camera and holding it up in front of your faces.

Fingers traced over the drawn lines that, in the end, weren’t even making any sense, ‘What are they even connecting? Are they supposed to be something?’ Kyra voiced the thoughts you were also thinking. Your memories of the night were hazy and you honestly had no explanation for the state you’d both found yourselves in.

‘Please tell me you didn’t use a permanent marker,’ Steph’s voice was shaky, trying to hold back laughing at you both but her amusement was evident in her tone. Kyra groaned at the thought, really not wanting to deal with it.

‘I don’t even know where we got a marker from, let alone what type it was,’ You’d thrown your head back, sighing softly. Steph was quick to sneak a photo of the two of you sending it to both your arsenal and national teammates, knowing you’d never hear the end of it for a while.

‘Remind me to never leave you two alone again,’

#kyra cooney-cross #kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney-cross x reader #kyra cooney cross x you #steph catley #catley!reader #steph catley x reader #awfc #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #woso #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #matildas #auswnt

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wheeboo · 1 year ago

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you're alright, i guess | kwon soonyoung

SYNOPSIS. in which you accidentally miss the bus and decide to stay the night at your date's place for the first time. PAIRING. kwon soonyoung x gn!reader (ft. chan as soonyoung's roommate) GENRE. fluff WARNINGS. chan makes like a sex joke, kissing WORD COUNT. 2.9k

notes: hi everyone this ended up being a lil longer than i thought but it was saur cute to write so i hope u enjoy :') tagging @etherealyoungk hehe

Maybe you do lose all track of time when you're with someone special. Perhaps that's one of the aspects of starting to fall for another person𑁋that it's just so easy to lose track of time because you're too caught in the moment since the entirety of this day had gone right.

On the other hand, Soonyoung had spent the past week meticulously planning this date with you. This is only his second date with you, since the first one he was a nervous wreck the entire time and was terrified that you didn't want to see him again by the end of it (he sobbed when he got back to his place). But when you told him you wanted to see him again, he made his roommate Chan remind him every morning that yes, you do want to see him again and that he wasn't hallucinating.

The date didn't even require much planning, it was mainly because Soonyoung kept overthinking every little detail.

"How about we go to this ice cream place instead because Y/N prefers something simpler? Or maybe raid the convenience store to have a picnic by the Han River?" Soonyoung suggested to Chan one evening, who was currently sprawled out on the couch, engrossed in his phone.

Chan looked up, his eyebrows raised. "You're planning this date like it's a military operation."

Soonyoung let out an exasperated sigh, pacing back and forth in their living room. "I need to cover all bases, Chan!"

"Hyung, you don't need a battle strategy for a date. It's supposed to be fun and relaxed."

"But what if Y/N doesn't like ice cream, or they have allergies or something they never told me of? And what if the convenience store doesn't have the right snacks? What if I mess it up?"

"Christ, hyung. You're overthinking this," Chan muttered, before letting out a sigh. "You really like them a lot, don't you?"

Soonyoung only flopped back down on the couch next him. It's almost overwhelming how much he does like you. "Yeah..."

By the time the date rolled around, he offered to pay for your snacks from the convenience store for the picnic and the ice cream by the end of it.

It wasn't extravagant nor entirely too simple, but he likes to think it was just the right amount of perfect to make up for the jittery disaster he was for the first one. And from the pretty smiles to your face that he caught glances of from to time, perhaps he was a bit more successful than he thought.

The time was probably around ten o'clock now, and you both find yourselves strolling side-by-side down the tranquil, quiet cityscape, the path ahead illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights. You had an arm around Soonyoung's, telling him about something that happened when you were younger, and he was listening intently, hanging onto every word that left your mouth, occasionally getting distracted from how the city lights seem to dance in your eyes or how you glow when you spoke.

"And like... everyone stared at me! I can't believe I was the first person to spell in every freakin' round."

Soonyoung tries to imagine it𑁋a younger you participating in the school spelling bee standing awkwardly by the microphone in front of the entire school. The thought makes him grin.

"Cute," he mutters aloud, yet the grin to his face disappears when he feels a flick at the yellow cap he was wearing. "Hey! What was that for?"

You only pout, and Soonyoung swears you look even more cuter. "It's not cute. It's embarrassing."

"Well, it's cute because it's you."

You roll your eyes, chuckling at his words, but the flush to your cheeks doesn't go unnoticed by him.

His eyes linger on you for a few moments, and when you look up to meet his gaze, you catch sight of the most endearing smile to his face, one that melts your heart and brings a sweeter taste to your mouth than the ice cream you had earlier. It looks like he wants to say something, but before he can, there's a gasp that leaves your mouth at a moment of realisation.

"Crap, that's my bus over there!" You exclaim, pointing down to a bus farther down the street that was accepting the last few people inside and getting ready to close its doors.

Almost instinctively, you reach down to grab Soonyoung's hand before you're dashing down the street and dragging him along in a frantic sprint towards the bus stop. You can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you used all the remains of whatever energy you had left. However, by the time you both arrived at the bus stop, it was already half a block away from you.

"Dammit," You groan out frustratingly, letting go of Soonyoung's hand to catch your breath. "That was the last ride back home."

Soonyoung stands beside you, also panting heavily from the impromptu sprint. Once he catches his breath, he leads you to the seats under the bus stop, giving you a few moments to recover yours as well. And in that short amount of time, he lets himself think, his hand wandering to the urge to place over yours on your thigh, but he hesitates and retrieves it back.

"Sorry, I-I should've been more aware of the time," he says sheepishly.

You shake your head, managing a small smile back at him. "It's not your fault. I didn't even notice the time either."

His apologetic expression eases, yet the few moments of silence that passes afterwards does nothing to rid of the nerves that was crawling up his spine. He tries to think of other ways𑁋maybe a taxi, but the street appears almost barren of any𑁋but no other solution seems to come up, other than one last one.

"Um..." He clears his throat nervously. "Do you... want to stay over at my place for the night? It's, uh, not that far away, and we can figure out a way for you to get home tomorrow. If-If you want to, of course."

You feel your heart flutter to his suggestion, a mixture of nervousness and anticipating racing through you. Soonyoung feels the pang of regret to his chest at the sight of your contemplative expression. He shouldn't have asked that. What if he made you uncomfortable?

"Would you... be fine with that? What about your roommate?" You ask him, remembering that he mentioned another boy named Chan or something that also lived with him.

Soonyoung can sense the slight hesitation in your voice, and it makes his nervousness resurface.

"Chan's cool, I promise," he reassures you lightly. "He wouldn't mind."

You take a moment to think it over. Staying over at Soonyoung's place is a big step, especially for only your second date, but there's something about his sincerity and the way the entire night you've felt at ease with his presence that makes you want to take that leap of faith. Plus, you didn't have much of a choice anyway since you lived on the outskirts of town and the buses had stopped running for the night.

So you look back up at Soonyoung, noticing the way he's anxiously awaiting your response from the way his fingers seem to be kneading at the loose strings of his pants. With a warm smile, you reach out and gently place your hand on his.

"Okay," You tell him. "I'll stay over."

It takes nearly every muscle in his face to relax from your words, the relief washing over his features and the corner of his lips curving upward into a grateful, precious smile.

"Okay." He lets his hand interlock with yours, and he has to refrain himself from squeezing it too tightly out of excitement. His heart does a little dance in his chest as he stands up, gently tugging you up with him.

It's a peaceful walk on the way to his place, and the night air is crisp and cool like a tender graze against your skin as you make your way through the streets and into the local neighbourhood of apartment complexes. The city seems to have a different charm at this late hour𑁋quieter and more intimate. Soonyoung is careful not to let go of your hand, as if afraid you might disappear if he does. His brain still can't even process that you're about to see his place for the first time.

As he leads you inside the apartment building, you follow up a flight of stairs to where his apartment stood. He clumsily fumbles with the keys in his hands as he stands in front of the door, finally managing to unlock it. With a shy smile, he pushes the door open, gesturing for you to enter first.

He follows in behind you, and for a moment you both find yourselves a bit squished together in the entryway, the warmth of his body close to yours as you take off your shoes. There's a fleeting tension in the air as your eyes meet, and then you both chuckle nervously, breaking the moment.

"Hyung? Are you home now? How was the date𑁋" A sudden voice makes you and Soonyoung turn your heads simultaneously, and you're met with a younger boy whom you presume to be Chan, appearing exhausted with disheveled hair as if he had just woken up from a nap. You quietly greet him with a friendly smile, and he offers you one back in return.

Tackling the somewhat awkward atmosphere, Soonyoung gestures you to follow him into the living room, where you place yourself down comfortably on the couch.

"Can I get you something to drink or... anything?" Soonyoung asks you.

"Yeah, just some water is fine," You answer, before letting your gaze travel around the room.

The living area is very homey, a bit messy with some folded laundry at the ends of the couch, an empty can of soda and some snack wrappers sitting on the coffee table. You can't help but chuckle to yourself at the sight, finding the small mess endearing rather than off-putting; nonetheless, you still feel comfortable and welcomed.

When Soonyoung enters the kitchen to retrieve your water, he's pulled to the side by Chan.

"A reminder would have been nice if you were bringing them home," he mutters lowly, a bit of an annoyed tone to his voice.

"They missed their bus, what else was I supposed to do?" Soonyoung whispers back as he fills up a glass with water. "I-I couldn't just leave them stranded there."

Chan just sighs, giving the older boy a few pats on the back. "Just... don't do anything weird, okay? Keep it PG. And if I have to block my ears or whatever just, like, knock on the wall."

Soonyoung feels the heat in his face as he gives the younger boy a light smack to the arm. "We aren't𑁋it's not like that!"

That was enough for a round of laughter to leave Chan's lips and for you to catch sight of Soonyoung's slightly embarrassed expression once they enter back into the living area together. Chan only shoots one last knowing glance between the two of you before uttering out his goodnight and disappearing into his own bedroom.

"Sorry about the mess, by the way," Soonyoung says as he hands you the glass of water.

You take in the glass in your own hands, your fingers brushing momentarily against his. When you take a sip, you feel a refreshing wave hit you all at once. "It's fine. You weren't expecting company anyway. And... it feels cozy. I like it."

Your words make Soonyoung's eyes soften. He takes a seat beside you on the couch, not too close to invade your personal space but close enough that you can still feel the warmth of his presence. It's comforting, you think, because despite the quiet moments in between, you both feel contented in simply being together.

You know Soonyoung tried his best to make this date perfect, since your first one was more on the awkward side. But there was something about him𑁋whether it was his endearing clumsiness, the way he genuinely cares about your comfort and happiness, or the amount of effort he put in to actually want to get to know you𑁋that made you feel like this was right where you were meant to be.

"Do you... want to see my room?"

You glance up at him curiously, placing your empty glass on the coffee table. "Can I?"

Soonyoung leads the way, and you follow him down a short hallway to a door on the right. However before he opens it, he turns to look back at you. There's a sense of anticipation in the air, as if he's eager to let you into this personal part of his life but also a bit (very) nervous about what you might think.

"Wait, let me just... tidy it up a bit," he murmurs as if in shame before you have a chance to respond. He quickly steps inside the room, leaving you standing in the hallway. You hear some shuffling and a few muttered apologies to himself, and then he reappears back out with a sheepish grin.

He pushes it open, revealing a cozy and small bedroom. The walls are painted a soft shade of blue, and there are posters of various artists and bands you recognise like SHINee and BIGBANG. His bed is hurriedly kempt with a couple plushies of what seem to be tigers, and there's a desk piled with notebooks and a laptop.

There's a shelf in the corner of the room filled with collections of ticket stubs from concerts, a row of trophies and medals, and a stack of old photo albums. Then you take a seat at the edge of his bed, taking one of his tiger plushies in your hands and smiling to yourself. It's incredibly soft to the touch, carrying a scent of the remnants of Soonyoung. You can't help but snuggle it for a moment before placing it back on his bed.

"Here, I got some clothes you can sleep in," Soonyoung says after rummaging through his drawer.

"Thanks," You take the piece of clothing in your hand: a large hoodie that he bought at a concert a while ago.

He leaves you for a few minutes to allow you to change. Once he comes back in, it takes him a few moments to get used to you wearing his clothes with a hoodie that's slightly oversized on you, his cheeks deepening with a rosy hue that stretches up to his ears as he takes his place right next to you on the bed.

As the night goes on, you both start to feel a sense of exhaustion from the day's events. Soonyoung offers you his bed while he'll take the couch, but you decline. You don't mind sharing his bed; in fact, you'd prefer it.

"Are... Are you sure?" he asks, a hint of concern, hesitation, in his eyes. "I-I can sleep on the couch. It's completely okay."

You nod with a warm smile. "I'm sure. Plus, it's your bed, anyway. You deserve to sleep in it."

He seems to relax at your response, his tense shoulders loosening as he takes in a deep breath, and he finds himself crawling under the covers right next to you. It's strange, considering you're only two people who are still getting to know each other, yet the closeness feels natural and comforting.

You lay on your sides, facing each other, with only a few inches of space separating you. The room is dimly lit by a soft, warm glow from a bedside lamp, and the sounds of the city outside are barely audible.

"Hi," Soonyoung whispers, face cutely half-buried in the pillow.

You faintly grin, whispering in his same tone, "Hi."

For a moment, the two of you only lay there, only carefully studying each other's faces.

"You're really pretty," Soonyoung admits shamelessly, his words making you giggle and the heat sprout to your face.

"So you've mentioned," You tease him back playfully. Many times.

Soonyoung chuckles softly, the sound muffled by his pillow.

"I really like you, you know," he tells you, and it's so quiet that you can barely hear it, but his words send a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You prop yourself up on one arm, keeping your eyes on him. "Is that why I'm in your bed right now?"

Despite the darkness of the room, his cheeks tint a deeper shade of pink. He shifts slightly, scooting more closer towards you so he can face you more directly, his eyes locking onto yours.

"Partly, yes," he replies, voice low. "I feel comfortable around you, and I... I want to get to know you better. It's... a bit scary how much I like you."

You can feel the weight of his words, and you're not sure how to respond. Instead, you reach out, gently cupping his cheek with your hand, and guide his face toward yours. Your lips meet in a soft, tentative kiss. Soonyoung doesn't hesitate to kiss you back, his lips moving against yours slowly, gently, enough to feel like you're flying. The kiss deepens just slightly, but it's not rushed, as you feel his hand come to rest at the small of your back to rid of whatever distance was left.

And when you pull away, the two of you a bit breathless, Soonyoung only smiles.

"Does that mean you like me too?" he asks, as if the kiss you just shared wasn't the obvious answer.

"Hm." You look at him square in the eye, resisting the urge to smile though you can feel your lips twitching. "You're alright, I guess."

Soonyoung just grins, leaning in once again so that his lips hover over yours.

"You're so mean." he pouts, before kissing you again.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair

#kflixnet #k-labels #caratsland #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #hoshi imagines #hoshi fluff #hoshi x reader #soonyoung imagines #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung x reader #kwon soonyoung imagines #kwon soonyoung fluff #kwon soonyoung x reader #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt x reader

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hai7ani · 2 months ago

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cocky motherfucker Rindou who works at Murasaki Sports that loves annoying you whenever you come by the store. he's a bit of a jerk with the way he acts, but still gives you staff discounts at checkout and a free sticker whenever you pop by because you once brought along your laptop while shopping and it had many weird alien, cat stickers on the cover. he recommends you a specific skateboard and he makes you buy it afterwards, claiming it's for making him waste saliva on explaining boards to a non-skater, but sets it up for free anyway and tells you the best spots to skate in the city. the board's not even for you anyway 一 you meant to buy it as a gift for your skater cousin, but okay, thanks, you'll pass along the message to your cousin, you guess... (you started skating ever since that day and gifted your cousin a pair of socks from New Era instead.)

you don't even know him that well 一 he's a friend of a friend of a friend from high school and you'd only met him once properly at a club party about a year ago when he accidentally got beer all over your shirt and threw you his expensive Carhartt jacket before running away. and then he somehow manages to befriend your BeReal later that night, reacts the middle finger to every post you make and you'll react it right back at him with a pissed off look on your face. he comments stuff like 'shit music' and 'u need a better playlist, hmu' when he sees whatever song you've been listening to when you take a BeReal but is always the first one to react to them.

he's still kind of sweet though. likes rapping along to whatever's playing on the speakers in store (you don't like to admit it, but you must say, he does have great music taste as he claims), but you'll always catch him twisting the volume knob to the left even though KOHH is playing whenever you come by to replace your wheels (of the skateboard he made you buy) or shop for a new cap and he's so cocky about it every time too. one time he made you wait for him about 15 minutes to close up the store and you expected to walk together to the train station until he turns the other direction and you hear beeping followed by car doors unlocking. "aren't you dumbass getting in?" he's already one foot in his car (a fucking Nissan GTR) with his left brow raised when you turned around 'cause you thought he disappeared into thin air and then stare at him dumbfounded as he starts the engine. ?????

he visits you at your own store (literally just opposite of Murasaki Sports) whenever you're in during his break and annoys the hell out of you. you sell phone cases and he likes trying on every single one he picks up only to never buy them and places them about 6° to the left that he knows make your skin crawl from the asymmetric position, but you'll catch him helping you tidy up the other out-of-place on-display phone cases and greet random customers that come in, as if he is the one working here and not you, and then only he tosses you either a Pocari or a Cola as a refreshment when he's gotta get back to work. he gives you (forces you to let him give you) a ride back home whenever your timing matches and'll quietly make sure the A/C isn't facing your face when you accidentally fall asleep in the passenger, but tells you to never sit in his car again 'cause he claims you get hair all over his seat and the sand-trapping mat below. ("y'all ladies and your hair-fall problem...")

one time your father caught the two of you bickering in the car over who's bar of Snickers it was but to him it looked like the two of you were kissing because of a perspective problem and he got so damn flustered. simply stepped into your home with his shoes on, scurrying after your old man to explain that nothing ever happened and then fist bumps your dog on the head who actually hates him like crazy, but doesn't bark at him this time. your mother makes him stay for dinner that night and you think that maybe he isn't so bad after all 一 as your best friend once suggested 一 when he makes your mother laugh like crazy (you realise then that he's a smooth talker with the elders) over dinner and your father starts asking him about sports attire because he's been wanting to get into jogging. but he keeps stepping on your toe under the table and you think he's deliberately annoying you but really, he just wanted to make you make your mother stop feeding him shrimp (he's allergic.)

#yeah like he's mad goofy but so damn annoying at the same time #u dont know if u like him or hate him #and #i think bereal is still big in tokyo right... i saw a lot of locals using it when i was there 2 weeks ago #at least i still use bereal all the way here 🙋🏻‍♀️#blabbers #rindou x reader #rindou haitani #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers

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sarawayne0510 · 4 months ago

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ATE

pairing: Bangchan x fem!driver

summary: What if the worlds of Formula 1 and K-pop collided? Follow the story of a Red Bull rookie driver and Stray Kids' leader, Bang Chan

warnings: none?? just cute fluff basically, mention of Y/N

word count: 2.2k ish

Genre: SMAU/Fluff

The golden hour in Monaco was always breathtaking, casting a warm, soft glow over the city. I wandered into a small album store, tucked away from the bustling streets, hoping to find some new music to add to my collection. The scent of vinyl and freshly printed album covers filled the air, instantly putting me at ease.

As I scanned the shelves, a particular album caught my eye-Stray Kids' latest, ATE. My heart skipped a beat. I couldn't resist; my hand instinctively reached out, and I grabbed it. The cover was stunning, the colors vibrant, and I could already hear the tracks playing in my mind. It was impossible not to smile as I held it, admiring the print.

I was completely absorbed in the moment when a voice broke through the silence. "Stray Kids, huh?" The words were familiar, yet they startled me. I was sure I was alone when I walked in.

I turned slowly, my heart pounding, and there he was-Bang Chan, standing right in front of me. He looked just as casual and cool as ever, a cap pulled low over his forehead, but there was no mistaking who he was. My breath caught in my throat as I realized that Stray Kids have been on their European tour and decided to take a little break but In Monaco!?

For a moment, I just stared at him, too shocked to say anything, clutching the ATE album as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

Hi, by any chance, are you (Y/N)?" Chan asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

"Yeah," I said, trying to keep my cool. "And you're Bang Chan, right?"

He chuckled softly, nodding. "I didn't expect you to recognize me. These days, I'm just trying to get into F1, and when I saw you, I couldn't help but ask."

"Oh, really? Well, how could I not recognize my favorite band member?" I replied, feeling a mix of excitement and disbelief. "This is definitely the best day of my life."

Just as I was soaking in the moment, my phone buzzed with a message from my manager, calling me in for an urgent meeting. I sighed internally-of all the times, it had to be now. "Oh lord, I've never wanted to kill someone as much as I do right now," I muttered under my breath, feeling a pang of frustration.

I quickly excused myself, offering an apologetic smile to Chan. "I'm really sorry, but I have to go."

"Of course, no worries," he said with an understanding nod. "It was great meeting you."

With a heavy heart, I left the store, heading back home as quickly as I could. Once I got there, I opened my laptop, ready to join the meeting. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about him the entire time. Bang Chan-THE Bang Chan had recognized me, talked to me, and now, I couldn't get him out of my head.

The last thing I wanted was to attend another F1 party. After a long day, the idea of socializing felt more exhausting than exhilarating. But George had other plans, practically dragging me along despite my protests.

As soon as I stepped into the venue, I felt the familiar wave of reluctance wash over me. The music was loud, the lights were dim, and the room was packed with people -just the kind of setting I wasn't in the mood for. Before I could slip away to a quiet corner, Christian called me over, waving me toward a group of team principals. To my dismay, Christian was standing right beside Toto.

Oh lord, please don't tell me they're at it again, I thought, bracing myself for another one of their infamous spats that somehow always seemed to drag me into the middle of it. But to my surprise, everything was calm. They just wanted me to listen to their old man talk, reminiscing about races and strategies from before I was even born.

After what felt like an eternity, I managed to excuse myself. I needed a break, and the bar seemed like the perfect escape. As I approached, I noticed someone sitting there, casually sipping a drink. My heart skipped a beat when I realized who it was.

Bang Chan.

Of all the people, in all the places, here he was again. I couldn't help but grin. Maybe I was God's favorite after all.

I slid onto the barstool beside him, feeling a rush of excitement. "Fancy seeing you here," I started, trying to keep my voice casual but failing to hide my enthusiasm.

Chan turned to me, a smile spreading across his face. "Seems like fate, doesn't it?"

And just like that, the conversation flowed naturally, as if we'd known each other for years.

As Bang Chan and I continued our conversation at the bar, I could feel a few pairs of eyes on us. When I glanced around, I spotted a small group of drivers-Max, Lando, Carlos, and George-hovering nearby. They were clearly trying (and failing) to be discreet, whispering and exchanging wide-eyed looks.

I caught Lando nudging George, who nearly spilled his drink as he tried to keep his excitement in check. Max, usually so composed, was grinning like a kid who'd just uncovered the world's biggest secret, while Carlos had a look of utter disbelief on his face.

I couldn't help but laugh softly. "I think we've got an audience," I whispered to Chan, nodding subtly in their direction.

He turned to see what I was talking about and chuckled, shaking his head. "They look like they're about to explode," he said, amused.

Just then, George gave Lando a not-so-subtle shove, and the group erupted into barely contained laughter, causing Chan and me to exchange amused glances.

"Should we give them something to really talk about?" I joked, raising an eyebrow.

Chan grinned, clearly enjoying the idea. "Why not?"

We leaned in closer, pretending to be deep in conversation, which only made the drivers freak out even more. They were practically bouncing on their heels, trying to contain their excitement, and it took everything in me not to burst out laughing.

Chan pulled out his phone. “You know, we should definitely stay in touch,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes. “Let’s exchange numbers.”

I smiled, pulling out my own phone. “I’d like that.”

We quickly exchanged numbers, and I saved his contact under “Bang Chan <3". As we finished, I noticed the drivers watching us intently, their faces lighting up with barely contained glee.

“Looks like they’re pretty excited for us,” Chan said with a chuckle.

“Seems that way,” I agreed, trying to keep my composure. “I think we might have just given them a story for the ages.”

With our numbers exchanged and the excitement of the evening bubbling around us, it was clear that this was one night neither of us would soon forget.

The tweet was accompanied by a photo from the party where Bang Chan and I were chatting, and the reactions were immediate. Fans were abuzz, speculating and shipping us together. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the sudden attention.

Deciding to lean into the fun, I posted a photo on Instagram

Playing Stray Kids-JJAM

"On repeat 🎧"

And posted a reel of me and Lily dancing to Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies.”

@(username)

"💃💖"

@lilymhe

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@Lilymhe: “@(Y/N) my wife 💖✨️

↳@(your_username) MY WAG!!

↳@user our fav couple

↳@alex_stop GIRLS STOP! ITS CONSERNING AT THIS POINT GO TO YOUR AUSTRALIAN MAN!!

↳ user127 alex don't be shy spill

@LandoNorris nurse she is out again!!

@gnabnahc 💖

↳@lilymhe back off

@maxverstappen1 So THIS is what was happening in the hotel hallway last night?

@CarlosSainz55 I left you alone for 2 minutes!!!

The Monza GP had been a nightmare. The car was in its worst state, and there was a moment when I almost lost control entirely. It was a close call—too close. My heart was still racing from the near-accident, and the disappointment of not finishing not even in top 5 weighed heavily on me. All I wanted was to forget about the day, but the memories kept playing on a loop in my mind.

Just as I was about to curl up and try to sleep, my phone buzzed with a message from Chan:

Chan: “I heard about the race. Are you okay? Big hugs from afar 💛”

I sighed, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.

Y/N: “It was a disaster… I was so close to crashing, and the car was a mess. I could really use a hug right now.”

Moments later, there was a soft knock on my driver's room . Confused, I got up and opened it to find a figure standing there, in all black and in a facemask and sunglasses. It took me a second to realize who it was, but the familiar warmth in his eyes gave him away immediately.

“Chan?” I whispered, my voice cracking slightly.

He nodded, pulling down the mask to reveal his face. Without a word, he stepped forward and wrapped me in the tightest, warmest hug. I buried my face in his chest, the tears I’d been holding back finally spilling over.

“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled against his shirt, my voice shaky. “I almost crashed, Chan. It was so close…”

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, his hand gently rubbing my back. “But you didn’t. You’re okay, and that’s what matters. I’m here now, okay? Big hugs, just like I promised.”

We stood there in the doorway for a long moment, neither of us saying anything, just holding each other. His presence was calming, like a warm blanket on a cold day, and slowly, the tension in my body began to melt away.

“How did you even get here?” I finally asked, pulling back just enough to look up at him.

Chan grinned, a little sheepishly. “I was already in monza for promotion, so I thought I’d come see you. Had to go incognito, though—don’t want to cause a scene.” He gestured to the mask and glasses with a small laugh.

I couldn’t help but smile, despite everything. “You really didn’t have to do that, you know. But… I’m so glad you did.”

“Of course I did. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.” His voice was soft, sincere, and it made my heart skip a beat.

“Thank you, Chan,” I whispered, leaning into his embrace once more. “You always know how to make things better.”

“Anytime, (Y/N). I’ll always be here for you.”

And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, I realized just how much he meant to me. The world outside didn’t matter—just the two of us, here, together.

With two weeks until the next race in Baku, I finally had some time to relax. Chan and I decided to escape the spotlight and spend our break in Capri, Italy—a perfect getaway where we could just be ourselves, away from the hustle and bustle of our busy lives.

Capri was everything I needed—crystal-clear waters, picturesque views, and a peaceful atmosphere. We spent our days exploring the island, walking hand-in-hand through narrow streets lined with colorful buildings, and taking boat rides around the stunning coastline. It was like a dream, and being with Chan made it even more special.

One afternoon, we found a quaint little café tucked away from the more crowded areas. The sun was shining through the vines that draped over the outdoor seating, casting dappled shadows on the cobblestone path. We settled into a cozy corner table, laughing over the silly adventures we’d had that day.

As we waited for our drinks, Chan suddenly grew quiet, a thoughtful expression on his face. I raised an eyebrow, curious about what was going through his mind.

“What’s up?” I asked, nudging him playfully.

“Just… thinking,” he replied, a small smile playing on his lips.

Before I could ask him what he was thinking about, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. Carefully, he started folding it, his fingers moving with surprising precision. I watched in fascination as the paper slowly took shape, until it became a small, delicate ring.

He looked up at me, a bit of nervousness in his eyes, and gently took my hand. “I know this isn’t much, but… I wanted to make something for you. Something to remind you that I’m always here, no matter where we are.” He slipped the paper ring onto my finger, his touch sending a warmth through me that I couldn’t quite describe.

My heart skipped a beat as I looked at the simple yet meaningful ring, and then back at Chan. “It’s perfect,” I whispered, touched by the gesture.

He took a deep breath, as if gathering his courage, and then met my eyes with a sincerity that made my heart melt. “(Y/N), I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while now… Spending these days with you, away from everything, has made me realize just how much you mean to me. I don’t want to hide how I feel anymore. I love you.”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. My heart swelled with emotion, and I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. “Chan… I love you too. I’ve felt this way for so long, but I didn’t know how to say it.”

His face lit up, and before I knew it, he was pulling me into a tight hug. We stayed like that for a while, holding each other close, both of us smiling like lovestruck fools.

When we finally pulled back, Chan brushed a strand of hair from my face, his eyes full of warmth and love. “This is just the beginning, you know,” he said softly. “I want to be with you, no matter what.”

I nodded, my heart full. “I want that too, Chan. Wherever this journey takes us, I’m just glad we’re in it together.”

And as we sat there in that little café in Capri, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us, wrapped in the warmth of our newfound love.

@gnabnahc

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@gnabnansc In the end

@(your_username)

@(your_username) it's him and I

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@lilymhe welcome home cheater

@alex_albon finally!😮‍💨

@user119 rue when was this!?

@user143 MOTHER IS THAT A MEN WITH YOU!!!!

@gnabnahc love is patient. Love is kind. Love is slowly losing your mind.

↳@lilymhe alex when I catch you alex... Why can’t you be like him?!

↳@alex_albon Not everyone can be Bang Chan. But I’m trying!

@CarlosSainz55 I LEFT YOU ALONE FOR 2 WEEKS!!

@alexandrasaintmleux pick up the phone RIGHT NOW!

@(your_username)

"I need a big boy😮‍💨"

@gnabnahc

Posted a story!

"Sometimes big boys also need passengers princess treatment"

______________________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading my fanfiction! It’s my first time writing, and I really appreciate your support. If you’re interested in a part 2 or want to be tagged, just let me know. Thanks again! :3

@charizznorizz

#kpop #bang chan #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x female driver #f1 grid x reader #f1 x driver!reader #platonic grid x reader #bang chris #bangchan x reader #f1 x kpop #f1 x k-pop #f1 smau #kpop smau #stray kids #straykids smau #bangchan fluff #kpop fluff #straykids fluff

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glow-worms-are-believers · 7 months ago

Text

Down on Yeoh luck (dp x dc)

“Hey Alysiah, I’m ordering from Del Taco, you want anything?” Jazz yelled for her roommate.

“No, thanks,” said roommate answered as she popped her head around the corner of the living room. “I have a date with Jo tonight.”

“Oh yeah,” Jazz said. “Say hi to her from me.”

Alysiah waved her hand agreeably before disappearing around the bend. A few seconds later she was back with two dresses in hand. “Which one do you like better?”

Jazz uncrossed her legs and leaned in. “How formal is it?”

“Not. We’re going to a wine bar,” Alysiah said, “Jo knows the owner.”

“Is there going to be food?” Jazz asked, though her mind was still on the two dresses.

“Snacks, but I had a late lunch just in case,” her roommate said.

Jazz nodded before pointing towards one of the dresses. “The black one.”

“Thanks, Jazz!”

A few moments later, Alysiah walked back out wearing the dress and Jazz settled back in to watch some old reruns of some old detective show. Then it was time for supper and she reheated a plate for herself before settling back down in front of the TV, with no plans to move for the rest of the night. And so she did.

Since she’d come to Gotham, life had become pretty peaceful. Not that Gotham was a peaceful city, far from it, but she wasn’t in the thick like she had been back in Amity. It was, well, nice to be able to have an evening completely to herself.

Just as she had the thought, a spectral vulture phased through her ceiling, its fez hat bright red and apparent.

“Seriously!” Jazz said as she jumped behind the couch as an ectoblast hit it, and crawled for her bag she’d left in the entryway, a few meters away

“Plasmius sends his regrets that he couldn’t come fetch you in person.”

This was borderline insulting. To think, Vlad had believed that one of his feathered minion could single-handedly grab her. Jazz reached her bag, and started rummaging quietly in it.

“Plasmius requires your presence,” continued the vulture, not even trying to get a line of sight to his kidnappee, which wow. Henchman-ery had really gone downhill hadn’t it?

She closed her fingers around the metal cylinder and with a victorious smirk, aimed the lipstick laser and fired right into vulture’s stomach, sending it flying into the wall, and tumbling down.

Without wasting a second, Jazz booked it for her room and went straight for the closet. She extracted a box and took her Fenton thermos out of it, and as she started turning, caught a movement on the side of her eyes.

She got down to the ground, the vulture’s talon only brushing her shirt before it phased through her closet and out of her bedroom.

Knowing her best bet was to get to the most open space so the vulture couldn’t take advantage of its intangibility as much, she ran back to the living room. Where she stood in the middle of the room, slowly pivoting in a circle, waiting. There was nothing but the sound of her breath and the vague mumblings coming from the still-open TV.

Then, the hair on her nape stood up, and there was the sound of a key in the lock.

Jazz didn’t have time to look because just then, the vulture dove for her. She rolled away, barely evading the talons once again and came up to her feet, just in time to point the thermos and soup the vulture in for good.

With a relived huff she capped the thermos and froze as she caught sigh of her roommate standing in the entryway, her face frozen in surprise.

There was a beat as the two girls just looked at each other, before Alysiah let out a long sigh.

“If I had a nickel for every time my red headed roommate turned out to be a vigilante,” she started. “I’d have two nickels.”

Jazz tilted her head. “That is weird that it happened twice.”

#Alysiah Yeoh #Jazz Fenton #dc x dp #dp x dc #Alysiah figures Jazz and Babs would either become best friends or mortal enemies #Every time she tries to introduce one to the other something comes up #It’s like the universe knows they’d be too powerful if they joined forces #roxpox #roxpoxwrote #trans character

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catlvrmax · 6 months ago

Text

RACE DAY & NIGHTCLUBS.

MV1 X FEM!READER

summary it's race day! you and amara decide to spend your sunday night out in the city. you make new friends in the process.

cw ONE use of [Y/N] - it was inevitable. idk the deets of how f1 works exactly, but i tried. this is a work of fiction: i don't know these people irl, i don't know how they act. NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER.

face claims girls on pinterest, but you can obviously disregard them, and imagine whoever you want. (the pictures are for aesthetic purposes.)

a/n i feel like the alonso scene is kinda useless but idk i put it in ite.

masterlist | taglist

—

"I'm so excited!" Amara squealed as you grabbed her wrist to keep her close.

Today is race day. You woke up early, buzzing with anticipation. Amara tried to (poorly) contain her excitement and constant giggles until you had at least one cup of coffee in your system but failed ten minutes into breakfast. You don't blame her—she loves the sport.

She also loves the drivers. Loves the gossip and the drama on and off track. A new thing she has picked up, one you really want to put a stop to, is teasing you about a certain Dutchman. It was already bad enough that your conversation kept replaying in your head, and her playful teasing increased the thoughts of the two-time world champion.

You tolerated it on the walk to the circuit, rolling your eyes at her dreamy sighs and romantic scenarios, which she mostly made up to annoy you but changed the subject as you approached your destination. You refused to look or sound like a crazy fangirl in case... well, in case of actually running into him.

Arriving at the circuit and checking in the paddock had been a nightmare. You and Amara were not huge fans of crowded places you more than her, and the heat of the sun beating down on you made it ten times worse. Alas, you finally found yourselves away from the masses and around the corner of the Aston Martin hospitality building.

Amara was not paying attention to where she was going, and you were listening intently to the plans for the day. At the last minute, you saw a green shirt from the corner of your eye. You pulled on her wrist, and she stumbled towards you, but not before softly colliding with the side of the tall man in the green shirt.

"Oh, shit. ¡Lo siento, señor!" The apology comes in Spanish. (I am sorry, sir!)

"Esta bien, señorita? I was not looking in my path." You try to catch your jaw from falling to the ground when you eye the Green Shirt Guy. (Are you okay, miss?)

That's Fernando fucking Alonso. Fernando Alonso, the man you may or may not have a tiny crush on, is helping Amara stand up after she bent over to grab her discarded water bottle.

"Ah, si. Lo siento, señor Alonso. Estaba mostrando a mi amiga alrededor—"

"It's you from yesterday, no?! The girl with the great, uh, Spanish skills!" He talks to her as if they've known each other for years.

You stand there stunned, trying to compose yourself as your F1 crush stands before you, casually conversing with your best friend. Amara must be ready to explode right about now. You would laugh if you weren't fighting the urge to scream and run around from the joy.

You hear your name fall from Amara's lips, and your gaze focuses back on them. "That's my best friend. I gave her the hat!"

Fernando nods, his gaze on you as a polite smile causes his dimples to appear. You show him the signed Aston Martin cap by tilting your head.

"Amara said you are a big fan. I appreciate it. Do you want to take a photograph?"

"Uh-Yeah! Yeah, I'd love to!" You take your phone out. Oh-em-gee. Oh-em-gee. Is this really happening? "It's nice to meet you, sir!" You can feel the heat radiating off your cheeks.

Fernando, being taller than you, asks for your phone. He raises it above your head and takes a couple of selfies. You muster the brightest smile, copying his funny faces and poses. When he hands it back, thank yous stumble from your lips faster than any car on the grid.

"Mucha suerte para ti hoy!" (Best of luck to you today!)

Fernando laughs but bows his head in appreciation. "Muchas gracias, querida." He turns to Amara, who's watching you both with a smile. "Enjoy the race, girls!"

And with that, he's walking away. You and Amara stand still for a few seconds, watching him disappear around the corner. You lock eyes, jaws on the floor. Squeals escape the both of you as you grab each other for support.

"Oh, my fucking God! We just—I—You—"

"I talked to Fernando fucking Alonso, and you took a photo with him. Shit!" Her tone betrays her disbelief.

"Oh, pinch me, 'mara, because this can't possibly be fucking real!" You cup your red cheek with one palm. "He remembered you. That's crazy!"

Amara giggles. "We talked in Spanish yesterday, and he told me he was impressed by my fluency!"

You smack her arm, suppressing a smile. "What? Why didn't you tell me all of that!? From past experiences, your Spanish has been shit."

She gasps dramatically, feigning offence. "How dare you, missy?! My Spanish is almost perfect. I just happened to get nervous around native speakers!"

You laugh and raise your hands in surrender, muttering my bad. Amara links her elbow with yours. "Are you ready to watch twenty cars go in weird-shaped circles?"

"Yup," you answer, popping the p before pulling her towards the building you will be watching from. "He is hotter in person." You cannot help but add.

Amara rolls her eyes but hums in agreement.

—

"Max Verstappen wins the Spanish Grand Prix! Another flawless performance by the current World Champion!"

You can't help but smile as the camera cuts to his team celebrating. Amara claps in delight, gathering her scattered things from the table to put inside her bag. The VIP room you watched the race from is slowly emptying as everyone walks down to where the celebration will take place. Amara wants to go and get as close as she can to the front, so she can take pictures of the podium. Lewis Hamilton came second, followed by George Russell, and your best friend was beaming and eager to see the podium from up close.

"You don't have to come with me. It's pretty tight there, with the crew, and fans, and stuff." You nod, thankful to her for not forcing you to tag along. "You can wait by the Red Bull hospitality. I think it's closer to the exit." She pauses as you stand from your seat. "And who knows. Maybe a Dutchman will pass by, and you deliver on your plan."

You huff at her wiggling eyebrows. "Seems kind of impossible since Max is celebrating on the podium, 'mara. You have a better chance at meeting him." You snort at her deflated expression.

"Oh, yeah, you're right." She shrugs. "Well, who knows? You might bump into each other again."

"I highly doubt that. Now, give me everything you don't need. I'll put it in my bag. I don't want you losing anything in that crowd."

Amara hands you her handbag and kisses you on the cheek before walking away. You're the only guest in the room now, accompanied by the bartender on the other side of the room. You contemplate staying here or leaving for the Red Bull hospitality. The track fills with fans, as is the ground below the podium. Lewis and George are already there, which means that—

"Here's Max Verstappen, the winner of this year's Spanish Grand Prix." Crofty, the commentator, announces the champion's arrival at the podium's top step.

He looks handsome, with a smile decorating his face and high cheekbones glistening with sweat. He waves at the crowd and takes his Pirelli hat off. His hair is messy, but it just makes him look hotter. Wow. You need to stop, or you'll salivate all over the bloody floor. You turn away from the TV as the Dutch national anthem starts playing.

One thought keeps repeating as you walk out of the building and to the sunny paddock. Max Verstappen is undoubtedly handsome.

—

You're aimlessly pacing in front of the Red Bull building, skipping through the pictures you'd taken. Most of them were of Amara posing in front of different buildings, eating or walking. You don't notice a chest heading your way until it's too late, and you collide. Ouch, you mumble as you rub your forehead.

"We should stop meeting like this." You recognise the voice immediately. How could you not? The man has been plaguing your thoughts.

Your heart is racing. You don't meet Max's eyes at first, hoping that a simple apology will make him walk away. "Oh, sorry. Wasn't paying attention."

"Are you lost again? Do you need help?" Max is quick to offer, but you shake your head negatively.

A hand comes forward, a featherlight touch on your elbow. You finally meet his gaze, rubbing on the spot that stings. What the fuck is he made of? Rock? His eyes hold concern as they rake over your face.

"What are you made of? Rock or something? That stung!" You offer a shy smile and a joke, for his worried expression makes your palms sweat.

He returns the smile. "Hey! You were the one not paying attention."

You shrug. "I was looking through the photos I've taken." You raise the old camera for him to see.

"Oh, yeah? Any cool ones?" He asks, stepping closer to you to see.

You notice a man behind the driver, wearing a Red Bull polo and an impatient expression. Anxiety sparks at your chest. He's got somewhere to be. Leave him alone. "Don't you have media duties to attend? You did just win a race." His smile turns guilty at your words.

"Yeah. I've got to change from this," he points at his racing suit," and attend interviews." He doesn't look too excited to do so.

"Well, then, I shouldn't be keeping you." You move a step back, nervously glancing at the other man.

Max does as well, the flush on his cheeks bolder than before. He opens his mouth, and you watch him have an internal war with himself before he decides to voice whatever thought he has. He motions to the man to go ahead without him. I'll be there in a minute, he mutters.

"I'd love to see those photographs."

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you know you look like a fish as your mouth opens and closes. Your face heats up. "Uh—They're really nothing special. This is an old camera."

Max shrugs. "Why don't you give me your number? I can be the judge of that." Oh, shit. You nod.

He does an immaculate job of looking confident as if this isn't affecting him. A pretty girl agreed to give him his number. It's dangerous for a person with the number of young fans he has to give his phone number to a stranger, but he feels he can trust you. You haven't given him a reason to think you might be a crazy fangirl.

"D'you have a pen? I don't have my phone with me." You nod, rummaging through your handbag to find the emergency glittery pink pen.

Once you pull it out, Max can't help but comment on it. "Nice colour." You send him a playful glare.

He stretches his palm, and you softly pull his fingers closer. You scribble down your number, writing your first and last name underneath it. Max feels remorseful for not even having asked you your name. He knows that you no doubt know who he is now. He repeats it, and your breath hitches. He says it so perfectly, you might melt in a puddle. Caaaaaalm down. You sound insane. He's just stating your name.

"Pretty name," he thinks out loud. You don't believe you were meant to hear that, yet your face grows a shade darker.

Before you can say anything, the man shouts his name from the building's door. "Come on, mate! You're going to be late!" You can see the disappointment Max feels from his deflated smile.

"I have to go. Media duties." You chuckle when he rolls his eyes and nod. "I'll, uh, text you. For the pictures." He takes a step back, eyes locked with yours.

"For the pictures, yeah."

His face is flushed. You blame the race he just won. It's a poor excuse to give someone your number, no matter how famous they might be, yet you did. Amara will have a field day with this information. You half expect her to revive her old Tumblr account for the sake of acting on her scenarios.

"Bye." You wave, and he waves back, exchanging bashful smiles.

You watch his figure approach the man by the door when it hits you. "Oh, Max!" He turns quickly, eyes searching for yours. "Congratulations on your win!"

His eyes crinkle from the smile that he gives you. "Thank you!" He adds your name, and you don't deny it this time; Max Verstappen is extremely handsome, especially when he smiles.

—

MESSAGES: two. From > unknown number.

unknown number

hey, it's Max!

Verstappen. The guy in

the RB shirt.

you

hm... i don't know anyone

with this name. sorry!

max verstappen

Two-time world champion?

you

nope.

never met any world champions

in my life, sorry.

max verstappen

I helped you yesterday

and saw you today outside of

the RB hospitality.

This is [Y/N], right?

you

🤣 yes!

i'm just messing with you max!

max verstappen

*phew* had me thinking you

gave me the wrong number

you

*dramatic gasp*

i am NOT that cruel, mr verstappen!

btw, i havent transferred the photos yet!

camera's charging.

max verstappen

That's totally okay!

Soooo, what are you doing tonight?

you

contemplating whether i should share my

whereabouts with a random man....

max verstappen

HEY! you've met me!

two times already!!!

you

and how do i know this is the REAL

Max Verstappen????????

max verstappen

....you gave me your phone number.

you

oh, yeah. that makes sense.

i'm very sleep deprived haha

max verstappen

😂😂

you

Soooo, what are you doing tonight?

↪ to answer your previous question,

me and my bff are going clubbing

in Barcelona!

max verstappen

Oh, that sounds fun!

you

i'm secretly terrified of getting lost

in the city, but hey! i'm only here for another

night. might as well have fun

plus, i've heard Spaniards party hard!!!!!

max verstappen

plus, i've heard Spaniards party hard!!!!!

↪ THAT'S TRUE. Carlos is an

expert in all things nightclub when we're

here for the GP

you

you have any places to recommend?

amara is still looking on trip advisor

max verstappen

😨 TRIP ADVISOR?

you

WELL WE HAD TO START SOMEWHERE

max verstappen

the Vault is a really great place. Great

drinks and the DJ plays nice songs.

You should try that one!

you

i'm guessing it's expensive

as fuck

max verstappen

not as expensive as it is packed

BUT there's always the Disco Diva

and other clubs down that street

you

max verstappen, you know your

clubs, i see.

(the disco diva? really?)

max verstappen

you caught me ahahahahah

(the disco diva? really?)

↪ it plays really cool stuff

you

it plays really cool stuff

↪ i trust ur judgement.

so what are YOU, race winner, doing

tonight?

max verstappen

how do I know I'm not giving away

my location to a super crazy

fangirl?

you

you dont! YOU wanted MY number.

soooo.... 🤷🏻‍♀️

max verstappen

LOL. you're funny.

so what are YOU, race winner, doing

tonight?

↪ I was thinking of gaming, but the

boys want to party.

you

WELL, YAH! you totally deserve to let loose!

max verstappen

Hm, I might think about it.

Ha! Maybe we'll find each other in the club!

you

hahahahah it would be pretty embarrassing

if i ran into you again.

for the third time.

have fun with whatever you choose

to do, Maximus Verstappen.

max verstappen

that is definitely NOT my first name.

but i thank you, schat 😁

seen, now.

—

"Who are you talking to?" Amara asks, her eyes glued on TripAdvisor.

"H-Huh?" You barely register her words, fingers tapping on your screen incredibly fast.

"You've been giggling for, like, ten minutes now. I'm assuming it's not your mom. She's probably having lunch."

"Oh, you know. Just this guy I bumped into today. You might know him. His name's Max. Ma—"

"Fucking Verstappen?!" Amara all but yells, sitting up swiftly.

Your eyes meet her shocked expression, and you can't help the chuckle that escapes at her priceless reaction. You shrug in response, feigning nonchalance. Truth is, your best friend has hyped this guy up a lot, and your poor heart beats somewhat faster now that you're talking to him.

"You told me to get his number, didn't you?"

"W-Well—Yeah. But I didn't actually think you'd do it!"

You gasp as if offended. "You dare think so little of me? Think that I wouldn't honour my promise to feed your delusions?"

Amara laughs, lightly smacking your arm. "Okay, weirdo. Tell me what the fuck happened."

After pushing yourself to a sitting position, you tell her every detail of your second meeting with the world champion, including the texts. Amara's reactions are comical. At the end of your story-telling process, she's sitting there, with her jaw mere inches from touching the ground.

"So, do you think we'll meet him in that nightclub?"

You shrug. "I don't know. He said he'd think about it." You show her your phone, scrolling to the text he had sent you mere minutes ago. "Doesn't sound that eager to me."

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to go by the Vault, or whatever its name was." Amara wiggles her eyebrows.

"Are you trying to get me laid with a celebrity?"

She grimaces. "Pfft. He's hot. You're pretty. If you take out the millions on Instagram—" "—and his bank account." Amara shoots you a pointed look. "He looks like a pretty normal guy." She exhales before continuing. "You should have fun. We didn't come here just for me. And he seems like a lot of fun."

Amara wasn't wrong. Yes, you had come here for the Grand Prix, which was her thing, but there was plenty of time for you to have fun. And if fun meant drinking and meeting with an extremely handsome guy, who were you to refuse? You'd probably never see him again, either.

—

views 96 / views 242

—

"Finally!" You shout excitedly.

After waiting for a solid thirty minutes in a very long line outside of Club Vault and paying an entry fee that you're sure is way too expensive, you have finally made it inside. The place is flooded with people drinking, dancing, and talking. The lights are dim, and the music loud; a promising, fun night.

You barely dodge swaying on the dancefloor as Amara drags you to the bar. She orders for you while you look around. The DJ and his setup is on a balcony, above which there is a VIP sign. You squint your eyes as another face comes into view. Is that...Lando Norris?

You blindly reach for Amara, turning her around by the wrist. "Hey, isn't that Norris?"

Despite the ear-deafening music, you're able to hear your best friend's gasp. "Oh, my fucking God! Yes, that's him!" She looks at you, a knowing smile on her lips. "Does that mean that he's here—"

"I don't know!" The bartender nods at you, showing you your drinks. "Let's drink!"

And that's exactly what you do. Your drinks are cold enough to help with the heat of dancing, and you can't lie, Lando—with the help of the actual DJ—plays decent music. Max was right about the place being fun. Amara is doing her weird dance moves, and you're copying her, trying to best her.

You're two drinks in, back turned to the DJ booth, when your best friend's eyes widen, dance moves faltering, and you hear everybody cheer. She elbows you to turn around, and your breath hitches: it's Max. He's actually here with Lando and the DJ. And your heart is racing with excitement. He waves at the crowd below, and everyone cheers louder.

Your lip twitches as an idea forms in your mind. Taking your phone out of your boot (an extremely smart and safe place to hide it—if it fits—btw), you snap a picture of the champion, sending it to your chat.

—

MESSAGES: two. To > max verstappen.

you

one file attached.

just found your lookalike!

max verstappen

THATS ME! WhEere are yoU?!?!8@

you

how much have you had to drink? lol

max verstappen

not drunk .

just shvoing past poepel to get to you

where re uoy?????

you

by the bar

max verstappen

real helpful

you

im wearing black?

seen, now

—

You wait a couple of seconds for the grey bubble to appear. When you don't receive a response, you shrug, putting your phone back in its hiding spot. Your gaze focuses on Amara; she's biting her lip while holding two shots in each hand.

"I stole them!" is all she says.

Your jaw drops, and you giggle, accepting the tiny glasses. You yell cheers before chugging down both of them. Tequila. Nice.

You take a step back, eyes blinking away tears caused by the burn in your throat. You don't realise you've stepped into someone's toes until a shout almost bursts your eardrums.

"Jesus Christ!" You yell, covering the side of your head.

Turning around, you're faced with the one and only; Max Verstappen, holding on to the bar railing with a pained expression. Your eyes almost bulge out of your skull.

"Oh, shit! Are you okay?" You can barely hear yourself.

He nods, throwing a smile your way. "Yeah, I'm good! It's nice to see you!" You're barely able to read his lips.

A pinch on your lower back startles you, and you turn around with a gasp. Amara's standing there, expectant, wide eyes moving from you to Verstappen.

"Oh, Max! This is my best friend, Amara!"

She smiles politely, shaking his offered hand. "Nice to meet you!" You wonder if she's close to passing out from internal fangirling.

His eyes return to you. "Hey, you wanna join my table?"

Shaking your head with a confused grimace, you shout. "I can't hear anything you're saying!"

"What?!"

"I can't hear any—"

It's futile to communicate this way, he decides. Max's slightly cold hands are suddenly pulling on your wrists, gently guiding you closer to him. Goosebumps take over your entire body, forearm burning as he moves his fingers to your elbow, keeping you steady, and he leans toward your ear.

"Wanna join me and my friends?" He feels your breath hitch and pulls back to meet your hesitant gaze.

"We don't want to bother you," you say once you pull him down.

Max shakes his head. "Nonsense! I won the race, and I want to celebrate with my friends."

He hears your breathy chuckle. "We're friends, now?"

"Unless you're some super crazy fangirl I should be worried about." The smile in his voice gives away his amusement. He's quoting his texts.

You pause for a second. Knowing Amara, she would agree immediately. You should have fun, you recall her words from earlier. And he seems like a lot of fun. Yeah. She's right.

"Let me ask 'mara." You point to your best friend, awkwardly standing by the bar.

He watches you talk in her ear, a smile forming on your best friend's lips before she eagerly nods. "You're coming?" He asks once you approach him as if he hadn't been staring at you already.

"Okay." As soon as you nod, Max's smile widens, eyes shining.

You nod, and he feels his cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. "C'mon," goosebumps raise on your exposed arms as Max grabs your hand. His hand is so soft. "I don't want you getting lost." The wink he throws your way only fuels the flush on your neck and cheeks.

It's definitely going to be a fun night.

The walk to the VIP section is extremely difficult, with Max getting recognised and patted on the back every few seconds. When you finally make it, you sigh in relief before Max pulls you both by the wrist to meet his friends. Be cool, you mouth to Amara who only nods, wide-eyed.

"Pierre and Kika, Charles and Alex, this is [Y/N] and Amara!" You're sure they can barely hear him over the loud music but wave at them anyway. Charles shares a look with Pierre, the latter unable to contain his smile.

Max leans down, his nose brushing your temple. "Wait just a moment. Lando's around here somewhere." Before you can say a word, he flashes you a smile and disappears into the crowd, leaving you gaping like a fish.

You have no time to recover when the pretty girls approach you. Alex introduces herself as Alexandra, but she doesn't mind going by Alex. Kika's name is Francisca, but she goes by Kika. It's nice to meet them, and you don't hesitate to tell them so.

"Shots?" Amara reappears with four shot glasses passing them to each of you. "Cheers!" You clink your glasses before downing them.

"Oh, are you doing shots without me?!" A new voice pops up from behind you. Amara's eyes widen momentarily, meeting yours in poorly contained excitement.

You turn, gaze landing on Lando Norris and then gluing on Max Verstappen. This lighting makes him look even hotter. Is it normal to be thinking that? Probably not.

He introduces you to the tipsy-looking Brit, who shakes your hands in return. Amara's pulled to the side by Kika, something about doing more shots, and Charles motions for Max to go over to him. Once you're alone with Lando, a smile breaks onto his face.

"He's said a lot about you!" Your brows furrow, confused.

"What? That I tend to get lost easily in big places?" You nervously laugh, but Lando just shakes his head.

"Somethin' like tha'!"

—

views 120 / views 218

—

You haven't had this much fun in a while. You and Amara usually go to two clubs as a duo, but you admit having more people to dance and do shots with is way more fun. You're usually the sober one, having a higher tolerance for alcohol than your best friend, and this time you're extra careful since you're in a foreign place.

At some point during your dance battle with Kika and Amara, you grow tired. As much as you liked exaggerating your moves, your boots were made for walking, not jumping. Max had been out of your vision for a while, and you decided to look for him. He wasn't hard to find, considering he was nursing a drink on a couch further away from the action.

"Hey!" You plop down, bumping your elbow with his.

Max grinned. "Hey, stranger. Are you having fun?"

You nod excitedly. "Your friends are really nice." He snorts at that. "No, really! Drive to Survive does justice to none of you!"

Max's eyes widen, mouth hanging in shock. "Your source of information is a Netflix show?"

"Hey! I had to start from somewhere. I knew next to nothing about racing."

Conversing with Max comes naturally. He's funny, and he listens to what you have to say. He asks about your job: a photographer for brands. He laughs when you tell him you prefer the make-up brands because they're easier to manage than people.

He explains racing to you in simple terms. You nod along, trying your best to take in the information. It's harder with all the music and dancing bodies, but you make it work. You've shuffled even closer to him as Max leans down to talk directly in your ear while his hands move animatedly in front of you.

At some point, the conversation shifts to cats. You're delighted to learn that he has not one, but two big babies. Jimmy and Sassy. Max is a very proud cat dad, you conclude, from the excitement that exudes from every pore of his body as he slides from picture to picture.

"Oh my goodness! They're so cute!" You try not to literally squeal as Max stumbles upon a picture of them napping on his chest.

"They sleep all day and ask for treats all night." You laugh as he rolls his eyes, probably recalling every time this has happened.

"Oh, I'd love to meet them one day. They look lovely!"

"Yeah, I could introduce you someday," he says, and you turn to look at him with a huge smile.

"I should bring my Cheddar when it happens."

"Cheddar?"

"My cat. He's a big fluffball." You reach for your phone, unlocking it to search for pictures of your orange cat.

"And you named him Cheddar? After the cheese?" He looks at you incredulously.

You giggle at his expression. "He's as orange as the cheese. It was my mom's idea to name him that."

You turn your phone his way, showing him a selfie of the fluffiest cat Max has ever seen on top of your shoulders. You're clearly giggling in it, a hand over your mouth. Cute, he thinks.

"He's adorable."

"And fat," you add.

Tapping a most recent picture, you show it to Max. Cheddar is on his back, his fat ass making him look like a pear. Your mom had sent you this just a day before.

"He's staying with my mom right now. And she's feeding him more than needed."

"We should arrange a playdate." You chuckle at Max's suggestion.

"Sure, if you fly out to England."

Before Max can respond, a very loud and drunk Brit makes his way to you. Lando grins when he spots you two sitting close, indiscreetly winking at Max. Your face feels warm.

"Do you guys wan' t' leave?" You barely make out his words.

Charles notices the three of you and pulls a dancing Alex with him, who pulls Amara with her. The three make their way to where you're seated.

"What are you guys talking about?"

Lando turns to him. "Are you hungry, mate?"

Charles shakes his head, leaning close to Alex to ask her the same. She also shakes her head with an apologetic smile.

"I am!" Amara nudges Lando, and his eyes light up.

He turns to Max and you. "Me and my new friend," he pulls Amara by the shoulders, and she drunkenly stumbles, "are hungry. Will you take us somewhere to eat?"

You look at Max, who mirrors your smiling expression. Lando says something about Max promising to be his chauffeur if he got too drunk.

"I could eat," you shrug. Max nods, agreeing.

He stands up, looking at the drunk pair. "Okay, let's go."

—

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taesanluv3r · 6 months ago

Text

build-a-bear.

kim woonhak x reader

idol! woonhak x non-idol! reader, established relationship. based on this woonhak scenario i wrote a while back!! cuss words, first i love yous. lowercase intended. pls excuse any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. enjoyy <3

wc: 3,324

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"fine then." - "fine!"

those were the last two words kim woonhak and yn ln had spoken to each other before she had slammed her front door shut on his face, before he had angrily turned around and begun walking towards the exit of her apartment building, before she had shut her blinds and stuffed her head deep into her white sheets, staining the fabric with silly little tears.

they didn't want to fight. in fact, the young couple rarely ever did so in the first place. however, with the newly debuted idol boy's rising fame, and the girl's growing insecurities, it was almost inevitable this one particular argument was going to come up onto the surface of their otherwise wholesome relationship.

you see, yn and woonhak have known each other for ages now. when he first started showing signs of his dream career, she was the first to support him- heck! she even came to all the auditions with him and gave him endless moral support. similarly, he was always there for her, accompanying her when she had to study late for an exam, or even sending her chocolates and other sweets when it was that time of the month. the pair have mutually liked each other forever, and they both knew that as well. it didn't take them long at all before they started officially dating, sharing one awkward kiss under the moonlight before he left again to the next city over to start the preparations for his coming debut.

from then on, she started seeing him less and less. their daily conversations on the phone had become simple good night and good morning texts that don't really give her much of a serotonin boost anymore. she missed him, and she always let him know. he missed her too, he just didn't have the time to tell her. she'd complain about it, "you don't have time for me anymore, huh?" and he'd furrow his eyebrows, "i have a job to do, yn. i thought you supported me the most?" then she'd gasp, taken aback by his words, her own eyebrows knitting together and her eyes almost glowing red in anger. for a second, she saw the way his eyes watered, like he knew he was wrong. but kim woonhak was stubborn, quickly shaking away that look and mimicking her own furious one. and that's how it happened. that's how they ended up in this battle of silence, secretly waiting for the other to break and end this cold war they didn't even want in the first place.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

woonhak sighs as he finally takes off his shoes. schedules ended earlier and the boy still had practically the whole day to do whatever he wanted. he watched as his members went their own ways, leehan and riwoo heading to some cafe, taesan locking himself up in his studio as per usual, sungho going out to see a movie, and jaehyun...sitting on the couch in the middle of a very serious fifa game.

"so where you headed, broski?" jaehyun suddenly asks the boy, still not looking away from the TV screen. "going to see your girlfriend? or are you still not talking to her like an idiot?" he snickered, earning a big eye roll and middle finger directed at his face from the younger boy. "i don't know hyung...i mean i obviously want to see her...but i'm not sure how she'll forgive me when i've been such an asshole" woonhak says, slumping himself down on the spot beside the older member. "just...ah-!" jae cut himself off when he misses a goal in the video game, "just go get her a gift or something- don't girls like that stuff?" once again the younger one rolls his eyes, but he nods at his leader's suggestion. "i guess you're right hyung...i'm gonna go to the mall and find something" and with that the kim boy gets up, slipping back on his shoes and grabbing himself a cap to cover up his messy hair before running out the door and down the building to call himself a taxi.

woonhak arrives at the mall, dragging his feet solemnly as he passed by multiple young couples on dates. "seriously...it's not even valentine's day...why is everyone out on a date here right now?!" he grumbled to himself, probably looking like a big ol' loser to the outside eyes that felt like they lingered on him as he walked. the boy circles the mall for what he swore were hours but he found nothing at all that was worthy enough to gift his angry girlfriend. "ugh..." the boy groans as he's one step closer to giving up and just meeting with her empty handed like the idiot that everyone kept saying he was. however, all those doubts immediately exited his head when a familiar large sign appears in his line of sight. it's bright yellow with a giant brown bear and beside it in big blue lettering, it read:

build-a-bear workshop.

"perfect!" he almost said too loudly as his eyes gleamed and began to sparkle. in the moment it seemed as though a big bright light-bulb had gone off in his head, his large feet padding against the floor and taking him into the kid's doll factory. the boy's eyes were wide and his mouth hung opened as he took in his surroundings. a huge variety of stuffed animals, in all kinds of shapes, sizes, and designs stood against every corner of the shop. on high shelves, rows and rows of clothes, all perfectly tailored to fit the standard plush toy size.

woonhak didn't know where to start. the loud speakers that played recent k-pop hits, mixed with the sound of little kids running around and dragging their parents in and out of the store made his ears ring and head hurt a little. his finger grazed against the wood as he scanned through every skin you could pick for your toy, there were cats, dogs, even moths! but one thing in particular caught the boy's attention. right there in the very corner of the store, just a simple brown bear. there was only one left in stock and it was just perfect. it's fur was light brown, it's legs were slightly longer than it should be, and it had the sweetest set of little dark brown orbs for eyes. even if he tried to, woonhak couldn't deny the fact that the teddy was nearly the spitting image of himself.

"okay, now rub the heart against your chest, hold it in your palms and give it your best wishes!" the tall guy's cheeks turn bright red as he follows the bear stuff-er's instructions, praying to god no one recognized him beneath his cap and beginning to regret doing all of this in the first place. it was all over in a second though, the bear being all stuffed up, it's heart and a little recording he did all wrapped up warmly inside it's cotton flesh. now it was time to dress it. woonhak hasn't really had any experience dressing anyone but himself, so it was really hard for him to not dress the plush toy like it had just raided his own closet. and so, naturally, the boy chooses a light blue jersey and a miniature pair of denim jeans, a cute pair of black sunglasses as an add-on accessory to it's look as well.

"now, all that's left to do is to name it...but what..." he mumbles to himself, tapping his fingers against the surface of the table that was much much shorter than him. "hey mister" a squeaky voice, and the feeling of his sweatshirt getting tugged down shakes him out of his thoughts. "huh?" he asked, looking down to meet eyes with a little girl. "mister, that doll looks just like you!" her eyes disappeared as she smiled- well, if you could even see them under her thick bangs that messily decorated her forehead, and she shot him a toothy grin. "me?" the boy asks, beginning to smile too at the sweet girl. "mhm!" she says finally before running away. "great..." he says, smiling proudly at himself as he begins to type out the teddy's name for it's birth certificate.

"there you go, have a nice day and come again soon!" woonhak nods, thanking the cashier before leaving the store. "like hell i'm going in there again..." he whispers to himself, the image of his own self awkwardly pressing kisses onto a miniature plastic heart in the middle of a kid's store flashing in his head as he began to walk out of the mall and into a cab. he's on his way back to the dorm now, trying his best to stuff the build-a-bear box in his large tote-bag so that his group members wouldn't see it. cause if they ever did, he'd never ever hear the end of it. woonhak throws his shoes off on the rack, quickly making his way over to his bedroom and trying his best to avoid his hyungs that were playing together in the living area. "so, what you got there, woonagi~?" leehan called out from the bean-bag on the floor. "yeah bro, show us what you got for your girl~friend~" taesan follows, dragging out his words teasingly. "it's nothing, leave me alone! and DON'T come in the room" the tall maknae boy says sternly, narrowing his eyes at the others who just stifled in their laughs and nodded.

the kim guy can't help but giggle like a child as he pulls out the doll, sighing once as he places it and it's papers into a different bag; a gift bag he had picked up before leaving the mall, it was pink and just the right size to fit the rather beefy bear. "now...the hard part" he sighs once more as he picks up his phone, his chatroom with her vacant, no new messages since their argument the other day. it felt foreign, unusual for he always had new messages from her. the boy takes a deep breath, fingers tapping softly against the screen of his phone as he began to type. it takes him a while though, coming up with a sentence and then deleting it all and starting again and again, until finally, he pressed send.

i know u hate me rn but i literally cant function without u pls meet me at the park tonight let me make it up to u please?

the boy doesn't expect her to open his texts so fast, he finds himself twirling his lips against his teeth as he watches the way three dots begin to bounce up and down on her side of the chatroom. he doesn't even realize he's holding his breath until her response causes him to let it all out. it's simple, dry, still unlike her, but at least it's something.

my love<3 ok, see u in 5.

"bye guys wish me luck" woonhak calls out as he rushes out the door, the sound of his confused (but supportive) members growing faint as the door closes behind him.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

by the time the boy gets to the park she was already there. yn ln, sitting patiently against the green grass. her hair fell loose against the skin of her arms, he could see from where he stood afar the way the breeze sent a shiver down her spine. "how long have you been waiting?" he asks, finally sitting down beside her. "not long" yn's words are cold, much like the atmosphere of the night. and her eyes stayed glued towards the distance, juxtaposing the way his ones remained fixed onto her.

"please look at me" woonhak practically begs, not really knowing when or how his voice got so small. the girl's breath hitches, tears threating to spill out of her eyes as she lets out a sigh and closes them shut. "yn..." he drags out, a shaky hand reaching over to turn her head to face his. "please?" he asks again. this time, she opens her eyes, tearing up slightly at the very sight of him. she couldn't do it anymore. she can't sit there and pretend to hate him, pretend to be angry at him, pretend she didn't miss him. she can't lie anymore. "woonhak" she says, her voice warmer now and a hint of content laced in the way that she spoke. "hey" he said, a smile beginning to grow against his face. "hey" she repeated, her own lips flipping up as well.

"i'm so sorry" the boy says, scooting to sit closer to her. "why? i should be the sorry one, i was being inconsiderate and-" the girl couldn't finish. "no! i was being selfish. this whole idol thing...it's so busy but that doesn't mean i get to be a total asshole about it to you...so, i'm sorry, yn" the features on her face soften as she looks into the genuine sorrow in his own. she lets out a laugh, confusing the boy a little. "don't worry...i get it. i guess i just...missed you, a little, that's all" yn reasons, a sweet smile tugging at her mouth as she slowly leans her head against his shoulder. woonhak reacts almost immediately, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her deep into his embrace. "i...i missed you too"

"what's in the bag?"

the boy sits up straight when her question slips into his ears. "ah! this...this is just a gift i got you...um...here!" he stutters a bit, suddenly flustered by his own romantic gesture. "for me?!" she gasps and he nods, scratching the back of his head, though there was nothing itchy about it at all. "wow...rising rookie idol kim woonhak of boynextdoor bought little ol' me a gift?!" now he rolls his eyes, as if he were telling his girlfriend to shut up and open it already.

"what is it...?" yn mumbles just above a whisper, carefully opening up the ribbon and revealing the insides of the pink paper bag. her mouth drops open as she pulls the bear out, squealing all too loudly as her eyes adored the jersey-wearing teddy bear in her hands. "ah! i love it i love it!" she cheered, wrapping the doll in her arms and hugging it so tight it might just explode. her eyes gleamed, looking up at her boyfriend then back at the bear and then right back at him again. "where's the birth certificate thingy...wait" yn spoke, looking back in the bag for the printed piece of paper. "hah!" she exclaimed, her smile reaching her eyes as she read through her doll's information. "birth name...kim unak...how...fitting" she said, shooting her boyfriend a look of slight disbelief he would name a doll after himself. "hey! don't look at me like that, some kid said he looked like me!" woonhak argued, grabbing the bear and holding it up beside his face. "hm...the kid was so right" yn replied, finding the resemblance quite cute.

"thank you woonhak, i love it..." her loving expression as she patted a hand against the fur of the stuffed toy's head was enough to satisfy the boy for the rest of his life. "oh! and...um...if you ever miss me when i'm busy...just press on his hand- but not right now! it's embarrassing! do it later!" he panics, sighing in relief when she moves her hand away from the heart-shaped patch on the bear's one. "okay then..."

the rest of the night was spent in peace. just a couple of sweet teens finding comfort in each other's arms after being separated from each other for far too long (it's been like two days pls don't be dramatic). "and so then i told professor yang about it and he totally freaked and...are you even listening to me?" yn stops mid-story, her head that laid on his lap shifting slightly to get a better look at his face. the face that stayed still staring at her blankly, his large hand mindlessly stroking her hair as she talked about whatever it was that he didn't really seem to be listening to well enough. "hello? woonhak?" he shook his head, "huh? what? sorry...i got kind of distracted" she chuckles, rolling her eyes playfully as she sits back up. "am i distracting you with my beauty again?" yn teases, loving the way his cheeks grow red and his hands fly up to cover his face. she giggles, pushing the boy down on his shoulders, sending him toppling on his back onto the grass.

she hovers over him, moving his hands away so she could see him clearly against the bright moonlight. the boy smiles softly at her, reaching up to push her hair behind her ears. his hand lingers, moving to cup at her blushy cheeks. yn giggles, finding his touch ticklish against her skin. "yn..." he begins, voice rather raspy from the way he fully laid down on the ground. "mhm?" she hums, head tilting to the side in curiosity as her boyfriend sat up again.

"i love you"

his voice was clear now, not a single bit of shakiness or fear in the way that he spoke. she smiled, not even a little bit shocked from the words that came out of his mouth because she knew. she knew all along that he felt that way, and she knew that she had always felt the same way for him too, she had just been waiting for the right moment where one of them would say it out loud first. yn presses a hand on either side of his warm complexion, pulling him in for a short kiss. it was sweet, a honey flavour from her lip-balm seeping onto his tongue. then they parted, hands still holding onto each other's faces and she smiles, he's grinning with all his teeth showing.

"i love you too, woonhak"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

later that night when yn ln got home, she hastily kicked off her shoes and ran straight to her bedroom. she didn't even care to properly put away her bag and her coat, jumping straight onto her bed and pulling out the brown teddy her boyfriend had gifted her earlier.

"...if you ever miss me when i'm busy...just press on his hand" his words replayed in her mind, "press on his hand..." she whispered to herself, carefully gripping onto the stuffed toy's hand, putting just enough pressure on it until she heard a click of a button. a moment of silence engulfed the atmosphere around her, just a moment before woonhak's voice began to sing out of the cheapest sounding speaker located within the bear.

"Mm mm 지금 내 playlist...금요일에 시간 어때요? 내 새벽을 망치지 마요..."

his own song, his debut song. he sang it just for her. her own serenade to listen to whenever they couldn't meet...

aw, rising rookie idol kim woonhak from boynextdoor...what a sweetheart, you are <3

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"i'm home! hyung...? what are you guys laughing about?" woonhak furrows his eyebrows as he walks towards the living room. riwoo sighs, calming down from his fit of laughter. "so...did she like the build-a-bear?" he asked, breaking into hysterics once again, as did the others. "huh? WHAT HOW'D YOU FIND OUT?" the maknae boy couldn't believe his ears, eyes widening and mouth dropping opened. "woonhak...it's all over the internet!" sungho exclaims, turning his phone over to show him the source of all their laughter right now.

"what...oh my god" the boy's whole body grows a ripe-tomato-shade of red. there, on the older member's screen, a fan-taken video of him at the build-a-bear store, the cap on his head failing to hide the obvious embarrassment on his face as he stands near the stuffing machine of the store, awkwardly wishing his newly stuffed teddy a good life and rubbing it's plastic heart within his palms.

at least his girlfriend's reaction was worth it...cause there's no fucking way his hyungs are ever gonna let this one go...EVER!

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

i feel like this sucked but it's cute idk idk idk i just want loverboy woonhak so soososososo badly hes so sweet :( i locve him im crying while typing this btw hope u enjoyed TT reblogs n feedbacks r soso appreciated i love u guys so much. love, kona. MWAHHHH

#kona's work ♡#boynextdoor #boynextdoor drabbles #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor x reader #woonhak #woonhak x reader #boynextdoor woonhak #bnd x reader #bnd woonhak #kim woonhak

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myers-meadow · 4 months ago

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Wheat fields: Tommy x reader

Title: Wheat fields, or: Picnic date ✨🌻🌱 Part one here.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x f! reader

Summary: After running into Tommy and sharing a kiss or two, he finally asks you out. He takes you outside the city for a wonderful picnic, where you share more than those chaste kisses from before.

Word count: 2201

Warnings: none. fluff. They have a few glasses of wine. Soft Tommy.

This is a continuation of Chance Meetings, but I'm sure it's good as a standalone one-shot too. Thank you so much to @moxleyhorror for beta reading and giving me the encouragment I needed to get this done! <3 Dividers by @saradika-graphics. I'd love to hear what you think! Enjoy! <3

After those first few meetings, you couldn't stop thinking about him. 'It was just a kiss', you had to remind yourself, 'nothing more. And it certainly doesn't mean anything.' Yet, when you ran into him again when purchasing a newspaper, your heart surged, and you knew he'd break your heart if you let him.

"Fancy seeing you here," Tommy said, voice so soft only you could hear, leaning in as you went up to the counter to pay. "I'd almost suspect you were following me, with how often this keeps happening."

"You'd think so," you hummed, trying not to go weak in the knees as you remember the kiss and hushed words that were your last meeting. "It's coincidental for sure."

Before you could find a the right amount of pennies in your purse, Tommy already pressed two coins on the counter, and led you out of the small store with a firm hand on the small of your back. You looked back hesistantly but his voice drew your attention back to him.

"You don't believe in fate?"

"No. Do you?"

He shook his head. Even outside, he didn't let go of your waist. He glanced around from under his cap, letting the shadow fall over his eyes, as he surveyed the street. "Listen. This weekend, are you free on Sunday? Be it after church, if you need." His piercing blue eyes looked at you from under the rim of his cap. Seeing your confusion, he cleared his throat and said; "I'd like to take you out."

For a moment, your heart skipped a beat, as the full weight of what he was asking slowly processed. He'd break your heart, for sure, it felt like. There's no other way for this to end. Another private moment with Tommy... He'd have it beat so fast, that just a look from him, a soft smile, soft spoken priase, would send your heart in a frenzy and there's nothing you could even think of to stop him from doing so. Yet, as your mind flared with worry, insecurity, better judgement - it was your heart that answered.

"Yes, after church, I'm free. What for?"

He smiled. The sight alone made you melt. "Good. I'll pick you up, then. Dress practical. For now, I have some business to take care of. See you Sunday, love."

With a final, lingering look at you, he left, crossing the street and disappearing into the crowd. Leaving you, standing there, to stare after him, feeling the heat in your cheeks slowly fade, replaying the way his deliciously gruff voice called you 'love'.

When Sunday came around, you didn't know what to expect, what he had planned. Was he really taking you out? Where to? 'Dress practical', alright, so what did that mean?

Regardless, you kept on what you wore to church, it was maybe a little formal, so you changed your shoes to your most comfortable pair. Your checked yourself once again, just to be sure. As for most of your kin, there wasn't a lot of money going around, but you still liked to dress nice.

The doorbell rang, and you ran down the stairs before steadying yourself for a second, before swining open the door. It was Tommy, perfectly on time. He smiled as he saw you. His car was parked behind him.

"You ready?" he asked, before gesturing to the car. You follow him, and he opens the door for you, before sliding in himself. What a shiny black thing, you thought, as you looked at the interior. It looked well taken care of. On the backseat was a basket, the contents covered by cloth.

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise," Tommy mused, and started the car. Once out of the street, you reached for the cigarette case in your purse and gave him one too. He leant in so you could light his cigarette for him, and you smoke in silence. The road he took, lead you out of the city, past the industrial side of Birmingham, past the open country, following a bumpy dirt road.

Aside from some small talk, the ride was quiet, and after leaving the city, it barely took half an hour before Tommy stopped the car at the side of the road. A green landscape stretched before you. The air smelt clean, once the car engine was shut off. Some farms were visible in the distance, surrounded with yellow wheat fields swaying in the wind. You open the car door and step out, glad you wore something practical. Tommy followed you, grabbing the basked from the back seat.

"Where is this place?" you asked, as you step through the high grass next to the dirt road. There were some oak trees up ahead, and Tommy lead you there.

"It's peaceful, isn't it," he responded, "but it's no place in particular. Here, help me with the blanket."

He handed you one side of it and together, you spread it on the ground, landing softly in the grass. Nearby a bee buzzed from a dandelion to a small daisy that hides in the grass. Tommy set down the basket on the blanket and kneels down on it. You followed, kicking off your shoes to be more comfortable.

"Are you hungry?" Reaching into the basket, he took out half a loaf of bread and a big knife to cut it with. "Or thirsty, rather?" A bottle of rosé wine followed, with two glasses.

"I didn't take you as someone fond of wine," you took the bottle from him and undid the cap. He continued unpacking the basket, some fruit followed; cherries, an apple for you each, and a few plums.

"The exception is due to the occasion," was all he said, and took the glass you poured for him as you hold it out to him.

You smiled softly, leaning back on your hands, enjoying the sun on your face. "I didn't think you'd ask me out," you mused, without any accusation in your voice.

Tommy took off his cap, messing with his hair, before setting it aside. He takes in your content expression and tries a sip of wine. "Well, you're hard to forget."

You glanced at him, his confession was more than you'd expected in the first place. "It's lovely out here. So nice to be out of the city. I remember growing up, how all we did was travel, and we didn't deal with city folk as much as we do now."

He shifted his position to a more comfortable one, crossing his legs and leaning his elbows on his knees. "Are you alright staying in Birmingham? You stay with the Lees, right?"

You nodded. "It's all good. Just glad to be away for now. Did you prepare all of this yourself?"

He chuckled, studying you some more. "Polly helped," he admitted. He pushed the bread and cheese towards you and you helped yourself. It was good, a nice, flavourful soft goat cheese. Luxury for you. You wondered if he got it just for the occasion, to show off, or whether it was a household staple for the Shelbys. You sipped the wine to wash it down. Instead of eating, Tommy went for a cigarette. As he took it out of the case, your hand instinctively found your matchbox and before he could reach for his own, you struck a match. With the mildest surprise in his expression, he leaned in and let you light it for him.

"I hope you don't expect me to eat by myself, Tommy."

He chuckled softly, taking the cigarette between two fingers. "I'll have some in a moment, I'm just... taking in the atmosphere."

So you sat together, and you shifted too, knees brushing together, and you looked around. Nothing. For miles. Just quiet. No machinery, nothing but birds chirping and wind rustling through leaves. With a deep sigh, you slowly relaxed. Soon, both your glasses were empty, and you poured them full again. The wine was warming up, and even though it didn't help the taste, it was vaguely romantic to share a bottle with him. Did he think you'd be the type for rosé, and is that why he brought it? No use in asking, you supposed, and instead you took the knife and cut a plum in half. It was so ripe that the juice dripped down your palm. The pit came away with ease. You offered half to Tommy, before taking your first bite.

"Ah, it's so ripe," you said, "I love plums."

With another look at you, he ate his half in two bites, chewing slowly. As you finished eating, you looked around for a handkerchief to wipe your sticky fingers with, but instead, Tommy took your hand in his.

"Here, let me," he said, and brought your fingers to his lips. Astonished, you let him suck the juices off, his mouth warm and soft, a heated blush creeping up your neck. His sky blue eyes watched your every reaction as you shifted to accomodate the distance. His free hand cupped the back of your head, and you were more than eager to taste the plum on his lips. This kiss was nothing like the caste ones you shared before; openmouthed and hungry. Only a moment of connection passed, before you were in his lap, straddling his hips. You tried to steady yourself by gripping onto his lapels, pressing your body to his. His lips were warm and firm, tasting of tangy sweet plum and cigarettes. With the way his fingers treaded into the hair at the nape of your neck, there was no breaking the kiss. He took his time exploring your mouth, your lips, his tongue dancing with yours, before his lips moved to your ear, teeth tugging at the lobe.

"I rather like plums too," he chuckled sotfly, breath tickling your ear. His hands needed their way up your sides, feeling your body in ways that heated you all over. You kissed his neck, or; the small bit of it that his collar left exposed, and pushed his head back to follow the line of the jugular. He shivered and let you push him down into the grass.

"You're a very good kisser," you mused, between nips, making your way back up to his ear. "Would you like something sweeter?" Seperating yourself from him with another kiss to his lips, you leant back up, enjoying the sight of him underneath you. As much as you tried to ignore the way your core pressed over his bulge, or what could be a revolver in his trousers - with Tommy there was no way to really tell - leaning back to grab another plum and the knife had you grind against it deliciously. He noticed your small whimper, and propped up his knees to have you move forward again, making you laugh sweetly at his teasing.

"Be careful, I'm holding a knife." Yet you both were still laughing. The second plum was just as ripe as the first. You threw the pit away in the grass, getting a small vision of a fully grown plum tree, branches heavy with fruit, all thanks to you and Tommy's little tryst outside the city many years prior. You took the first bite, not chewing yet, instead, leaning down to feed it to him, letting him take it from between your teeth.

"It's certainly sweeter this way," Tommy said, swallowing. "But perhaps there's something I'd rather have, instead..."

As he pulled you down to him again, you gladly joined him and let him roll you over, so you were on your back in the prickly grass. The knife left discarded on the blanket; the sounds of birds, crickets and a cow mooing in the distance soon overshadowed by the wet sounds of your kisses, soft moans and sweet nothings whispered in your ear.

When he dropped you off at your home, he let you keep the basket with some leftover bread and fruits, and he kissed you by the door, his hand pressing you into his chest in a way that had you craving more. You mulled the question over, whether to invite him in or not. After all, you two hadn't slept together out there in the fields - you were too much a romantic at heart, but now that the moment was over, you still wanted him desperately. It would be devastating if this day was over, and you'd lie in bed to regret everything you didn't get to do, feel, experience...

"Are you free on Tuesday evening?" he asked, voice still a bit hoarse from all the kissing. The way he looked at you from under his cap could only be described as hopeful, and it made your heart surge.

"For you, I'm free any time," you said with a playful smile. "Will you take me out again?"

He gave a curt nod, glancing over you briefly. Hopefully there weren't any noticable grass stains, this was your nicest dress. "But it's a surprise, all right?"

You looped your arm around his neck and kissed him again. "I can't wait." And from the way he returned your kiss, you knew he couldn't either.

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x you #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #meadow's writing #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders fic

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theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass · 1 year ago

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You belong with me | L.N.

Lando Norris x driver!reader

Summary: Nothing is more painful than two people being scared of how much they love each other.

Warnings: angst, fluff, idiots in love <3

Word count: ~2.3K

^^ It‘s funny to look back at the past that had brought you into this situation. Which is being an F1 driver and helplessly in love with your best friend and racing partner.

Lando and you have been inseparable since your early karting days, in turn developing a strong bond over your shared love for the sport which grew more as you got to know each other better. You were both childish still, no matter the fact that you were nearing your mid 20‘s. But that was what you loved about you two as a pair. There was never judgment from the other and what one lacked the other filled perfectly.

Throughout the close friendship there were a few mishaps when the threshold of friendship had been overstepped but there was always a girlfriend or a boyfriend at the time holding you two restrained and loyal.

So naturally when you two finally became single at the same time and got signed into McLaren’s F1 team all you could think about was. This is it. Now is our time.

And as on queue Lando organized you a surprise. Just the two of you, middle of the starry summer’s night with the city lights below your feet. You were smiling so much that night, your cheeks had started to hurt, but how could you not smile when he was next to you, paying his whole attention to you and making you laugh.

You were sure that he was going to ask you out that night.

And then he didn’t’. It could not have been a more painful experience, but you kept up your smile even if your eyes had faded, no longer admiring the boy next to you, that was just too miserable.

Unrequited love was miserable.

Or so you had thought until about a month later when Lando brought in a girl for everyone to meet calling her his girlfriend.

Just then unrequited love became agonizing.

Your Lando was known for his cheerful disposition and infectious laughter. He was easily the happiest boy around! Well until the said girlfriend…

It was only a few weeks later that you noticed your friends’ colours fade.

About two months in the others started noticing and drilling you about it.

“What do you mean you don’t know? You two are best friends, you have to know what’s causing him so much stress lately” Carlos was making too many hand movements due to his own distress.

“I just don’t know, we don’t talk that much these days” you tucked your hair into your cap and stomped away from the Spaniard.

You didn’t want to admit it to Carlos or anyone else, but you and Lando weren’t the great friends you used to be.

You surely kept your distance since he got his girlfriend out of sheer respect to their relationship (and respect to your own mental health). Although it still seemed not enough for his girlfriend as on a few instances you caught her yelling at Lando in the cool offs to stop the friendship you shared.

To say the least that definitely put a wall between you two, but nevertheless it didn’t completely break your bond.

Now, nine months and one nasty breakup later the unrequited love feels excruciating.

A shadow has fallen over Lando’s already tainted personality. He was going through a painful breakup with his now ex-girlfriend. She had been a constant presence in his life for the past year, controlling his every move, every word and god forbid he didn’t get the right amount of points… Safe to say she was sucking life out of him as a ravenous vampire, though Lando was too blind to see that.

The breakup had taken a toll on Lando, leaving him almost senseless now that he was out of her hold, and it showed in his performance on the track. During the qualifying session for the upcoming race, he couldn't find his usual rhythm and ended up with a DNF after driving himself into a wall.

As he stepped out of his car, disappointment weighed heavily on him. Lando felt like he was losing everything now and the sadness from his failures compounded his frustration.

You had been there for Lando throughout the tumultuous relationship, supporting him in all the little ways you could, checking in before and after races and offering a listening ear whenever you could see him about to reach his limits.

But on this particular day, you could no longer listen to him whining about her, you have reached a breaking point. You couldn’t stand by and watch the man you cared for so deeply be consumed by a toxic woman who had done nothing but break him piece by piece for the past year.

"If I was better, she would still be with me." You heard Lando mumble as he laid on the sofa emotionless.

"LANDO STOP! You must be insane to be saying those things. How can you say that you're not enough? She was the one who didn't care about you, who was never here to support you. Lando, it's her who didn't deserve you, not the other way around!" you snapped, voice filled with tears.

"You don't get it. If I was enough, wouldn't there be girls who like me? Because not one of my girlfriends have actually liked me or, god forbid, loved me." Lando was drowning in self-doubt and it was suffocating you to the point where your heart physically ached seeing him so beat up.

"Can't you see why that is? Maybe you don't belong with any of those girls? Lando, maybe you belong with someone who loves you through your highs and lows, someone who can't bear to see you sad, someone who lets you cry into their shoulder in the middle of the night, and, most importantly, someone who can't stand watching you break yourself over some girl," frustration evident in your trembling voice muddled Lando.

"What are you trying to say, Y/n?"

You hesitated, heart racing, as you contemplated revealing your true feelings. "All this time, Lando, and you still can't see it."

Lando was bewildered, not comprehending your cryptic words. "See what?"

You were burning with passion, on the brink of confessing your feelings, but ultimately bit your tongue. You were praying for him, but he could not understand and you believed he never would and to express the delicate feelings right now seemed futile.

"Nothing," you replied, shaking your head to rid of the emotions taking over your rational brain, and left the room to preserve your patched up heart.

As you retreated, a storm of emotions raged within. You couldn't help but wonder if there would ever come a day when Lando would realize the truth you had left unsaid.

Your words left Lando conflicted and he hated it.

You were someone he could always count on to understand. Hell he never needed to read you, you were like a road he had taken day after day, he knew you so well, he could navigate without his senses.

Lando found himself seeking friendly counsel from Carlos, as he was still perplexed by your reaction and couldn't fathom why you had gotten so upset with him.

"I don't understand why she's so mad at me?! Can you believe it, she was even crying. I'm the one that got dumped, and she's pissed at me for picking the wrong girl?!" Lando vented pulling at his hair, frustration lacing his voice.

Carlos regarded him thoughtfully before posing a question that made Lando pause and reflect. "Lando, let me ask you this. If Y/n was dating a guy who constantly made her doubt herself and feel like shit, how would you feel?"

Lando’s response was interlaced with confusion, "Why the hell would she even date someone like that?"

"So to say you'd be pissed as well?" Carlos continued.

Lando struggled to find words to counter Carlos's argument. He had a point, and Lando was beginning to see things from a different perspective. "But I..."

Carlos interrupted him with a knowing smirk forming on his face, "You what?"

Lando thought about it, connecting the dots between his protective feelings for you and the turmoil he had experienced during his recent relationship. Carlos decided to push him closer to an epiphany.

"When you like someone, you don't want to see them hurting, but it's different to feel the pain of the other person. That's closer to-"

"Love," Lando finished, realization dawning. He abruptly grabbed his jacket and rushed out the door with a clear destination in mind.

It was time for Lando to confront the truth he had been avoiding, and perhaps, in the process, he might finally get what he had always wanted. You and love.

Everything was suddenly falling into place for Lando. He began to understand why you had never wanted to hang out whenever he got into a relationship, why you cried when he cried, why you sacrificed your sleep just to listen to him rant about the terrible things his ex had done, and crack jokes to make him smile. It all made sense, and he couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before.

Deep down, he had always known that the girls he dated were just placeholders, a way to distract himself from the perfect girl he felt undeserving of his whole life.

He had a brilliant idea last year when you both secured your McLaren positions. He planned a whole midnight drive and stargazing, which he knew you loved (that also prompted him to learn constellations for weeks before the special day, only to impress you). He wanted to ask you to be his and make it magical, but ultimately chickened out.

When the next day came around he could not face you and instead of spending the last few days before training with you he headed to a bar where he met his now ex. She was pretty and showed so much interest in him he could not not get hooked.

In that moment of absolute weakness Lando decided that having a girlfriend would solve the problem of loving his best friend and potentially ruining the friendship.

He could not have been more wrong. The relationship was an absolute hellhole, filled with insecurities and so many fights that he could no longer see himself as he looked in the mirror. Still no matter how bad his life got, he felt he deserved the purgatory for letting you slip through his fingers when he just had to hold on to you a bit tighter.

He’d never forgive himself for wasting so much time pushing you away. But he wasn’t going to settle for that. Lando was still a fighter. And fighting for you… well that now felt like his birthright.

“It's you!" Lando exclaimed bursting through the door, his voice echoing through the garage, his eyes locked directly on your form, disrupting the calm chatter around the room.

The entire room came to a standstill, eyebrows furrowing, and the atmosphere thick with confusion. Your eyes found his, equally as bewildered as the rest of the staff in the room.

Lando repeated himself, his breathy voice much lighter and softer than before. "It's you."

"Me what?" You asked, face still a mix of confusion as you tried to grasp the meaning of his words.

With each step he took closer to you, your heartbeat quickened, uncertain of the nature of those words, and just how much was hidden beneath them.

"It's always been you," Lando confessed, his voice filled with sincerity. "I've never loved anyone because you've held my heart since you smiled at me on your first day in karting. I have loved you this whole time, but I was too scared and too stupid, honestly, to do anything about it, letting myself push away my feelings by running to someone else. But I'm not scared anymore because you don't deserve to be loved silently and from afar. You are the kind of woman that is meant to be loved loudly, with no second thoughts."

“Lan…” words deceived you.

“I love you Y/n and I’m not afraid to feel it and say it anymore. And I hope that one day you can tell me that you love me too” his hands found yours, the touch of his skin on your hands felt different.

Your cheeks heat up with his confession and you search his eyes who confirm his words to be true. He does love you. And you love him too. You’ve thought your love for him unrequited for so long that hearing him say those words to you seems like a daydream.

You realize by his fading eyes that you’ve been too silent through his confession. You know exactly what the look of doubt looks like on Lando’s face and you speak up quickly promising yourself that you’ll never be the cause of that distressing look on his face.

“Took you long enough to realize Norris” you chuckle pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

He catches up to you quickly wrapping his arms around you waist deepening the kiss.

“You belong with me.” He whispers, the warm words fall on your lips right before he kisses you again, both of you smiling into the kiss.

The room erupted in cheers and applause, congratulating the new couple. Finally, Lando had found what he had been searching for all along, right by his side, and you got what you’d been wishing for since you were little. A two sided love. You both were ready to embrace your love openly, no longer bound by doubt and hesitation.

A.N. back again with that Taylor Swift inspiration :3

P.s. I think my neighbors hate me because I be listening to one song on repeat for like 4h..... *skull emoji*

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