#cherishing this forever 🥹🫶

[itsdelicate]

my mum just messaged me she used my eras beads to make me a bracelet and i was like oh?? AND SHUT UP I’LL CRY

[miraclewoozi]

the funny thing is that my mission was mostly to try and get him out of my system. instead he decided to start building a little house inside my brain and continue living there rent free, so🫠

DRIVE. - l.c

DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.

pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC.  notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away.  notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!

SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).

You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago. 

Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room. 

Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right. 

You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones. 

It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.

Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.

Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’. 

And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.

In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone. 

Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–

And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name. 

You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over. 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”

His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”

“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”

You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.

In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”

It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry). 

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’

If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen. 

Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –

Clink.

Stupid. Fucking. Stones.

A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.

You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts. 

Black dahlias.

You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)

Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”

He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”

He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end. 

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”

“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”

“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour. 

His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed? 

“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”

“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”

Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.

“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”

“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”

“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”

You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him. 

But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.

All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense. 

“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know. 

Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.

But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans? 

With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.

All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can. 

He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty. 

Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?

You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.

“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it. 

You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away. 

“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”

“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.

He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your childhood home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced. 

But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”

Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there. 

“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”

You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.

“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”

But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”

Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?

“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”

You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”

“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”

He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.

“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”

“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”

“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”

You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since. 

“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”

He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?

Well, tell a lie. 

There is one more. 

“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly. 

You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most. 

You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it. 

Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —

A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits. 

Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask. 

Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through. 

You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.

“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake. 

“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”

“You’re the someone else.”

Oh. 

Oh.

“I’m—?”

“You.”

The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so. 

“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage. 

Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”

“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest. 

“Yes — you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“No, you’re just an idiot.”

“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”

“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning. 

“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on. 

“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”

He stops short a fraction of a second after finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth. 

Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle. 

He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough. 

“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe. 

“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.” 

“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—”  He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”

Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go. 

There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him. 

“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.” 

You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different. 

(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)

Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms. 

It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.

“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice. 

“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”

“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants. 

Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured. 

You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”

And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use. 

“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”

Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again. 

“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”

Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans. 

“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle. 

He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat. 

It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like. 

You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base. 

Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.

“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him. 

He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming. 

You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess. 

He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop. 

“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name. 

Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. Yoi couldn’t keep up if you wanted to. 

“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”

It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.” 

You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the  steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own. 

When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself. 

“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle. 

“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah—”

Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache. 

God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum. 

He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas. 

“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.

“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)

thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3

[bth3cowboi]

snoop the bells, cs55xreader

part 1 part 2 part 4

masterlist

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

summary: Sometimes marriage is the result you get by mixing two long term partners, devotion and a love for a Snoopy plushie.

format: social media au

a/n: some spanish translations at the end! hope you enjoy

( twitter )

( instagram )

ynraces 3h

liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton and 1.455.675 others

carlossainz55 2h

liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc and 988.765 others

ynraces

liked by carlossainz, scuderiaferrari and 5.667.987 others

ynraces C&Y 25’ ❤️🪐 Ready to start a new journey with you, my beautiful boy and husband. Can’t wait to see what life bring us from now on, I love you.

tagged carlossainz55, carlossainzoficial;

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user1 OMGGGG

user2 THE ROYAL WEDDING

carlossainzoficial Hermosos mis hijos

carlossainz55 Gracias papá ❤️

ynraces 🥹❤️

user4 wow this is beautiful I cant

user5 PAPA SAINZ🥹🥹

lewishamilton Congratulations guys🫶 Wishing you the best

ynraces Thank you Lew! Thanks for coming too

user6 LEWIS WAS THERE? WHO ELSE??

carlossainz55 Te amo😍

ynraces I love you too my bambi

charles_leclerc How do you even find a snoopy for this?

charles_leclerc Also congrats on the wedding

ynraces snoopy and WOODSTOCK

carlossainz55 She has a pinterest board for every snoopy situation

ynraces babe I got that ring and RAN to my romantic board

charles_leclerc Wow you have one for everytime you crash or lose the car?😂

ynraces yes😳 its in between my “snoopy charles getting FUCKED by ferrari” board and my “snoopy charles loses in his home gp” board!!

landonorris DAMNNN

landonorris She ate you up 🫵🫣🤣

ynraces I also have “snoopy lando norris getting his first win” but its empty

charles_leclerc HAHAHAHA

landonorris :(

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, f1 and 4.677.233 others

carlossainz55 My perfect wife, my perfect girl. La mujer más guapa y especial que he podido conocer. I can’t imagine what life would be without you by my side so I will make sure to do everything right so you can stay with me forever. ❤️ I will always cherish this day, thank you.

tagged ynraces;

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user1 wow my parents🥺🥺

landonorris 🫶🫶 Love you guys

liked by carlossainz55, ynraces and 3.556 others

user2 ay the getting ready pic😭😭 im crying

user3 they just love each other too much your honor!!

sebastianvettel So happy for you! Congrats😊

ynraces thanks seb youre the best i miss you come back thank you again

user4 I get it girl I miss seb too💔

fernandoalo_oficial Vamos chicos💪 Felicidades

ynraces Mi puto padre💪💪

carlossainz55 Gracias!!

ynraces I know I want to stay with you forever, thank you for making me the happiest and luckiest girl! Sharing life with you is enough to keep me content, can’t ask for more:)

carlossainz55 Wow I love you

user5 Im sorry I cried

user6 yn being this serious and romantic just killed me

georgerussel63 👏👏❤️

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, ynraces and 2.400.876 others

landonorris Mr & Mrs Sainz wedding was kinda fire🔥🔥🔥

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user1 FERNANDO?? GEORGE?

user2 ehmmm have you seen CHARLES?

user3 How much alcohol was ingested omg

ynraces too much and yet not enough!!

user3 omg!!! girl CONGRATS!! I LOVE YOUR HUSBAND AND YOUR BABYYY

ynraces thank you thank you my babys the best (sometimes the husband too)

user4 thank you lando🙏 this is what i want to see

user5 Lando said f your wife, first pic is your father and us

landonorris I HAD TO PUT ME FIRST

carlossainz55 Thought this was jpg material🤔

landonorris Naaa my besties deserve to be on the main

charles_leclerc Well it should be, because I don’t remember that last photo

landonorris Oh those aren’t even your worsts… I’ve seen things

ynraces Send them ASAP I want to remember some things

carlossainz55 Send the red bull one

scuderiaferrari Should we get worried?🤔

charles_leclerc 😐😐

ynraces LOLLLLLLL U ARE GETTING DEMOTED 😹 🫵

charles_leclerc I wish the worst to that plushie of yours, I hope he gets lost

ynraces I pray you never win another GP in your life and you bring shame to every team you race for in the next ten years

ynraces Also his name is Baby Snoopy have some respect

carlossainz55 Ok that’s enough baby😘

ynraces k bbygirl😍🩷

user6 ☝️☝️That escalated quickly

user7 nah they know damn well to not mess with the dog

user8 this is lovely😭 and the kiss… wishing them and baby Snoopy the best!

——

translations: (in order of appearance)

Hermosos mis hijos: My beautiful kids.

La mujer más guapa y especial que he podido conocer: The most special and beautiful woman that I have ever met.

Vamos chicos. Felicidades: Let’s go guys. Congratulations!

Mi puto padre: My fucking father (Direct translation of a Spanish joke! They call Alonso father in sign of respect lol)

a/n: A lot of people wanted more Snoopy! So here it is!!!! If you want to read more don’t be shy and send me asks with requests! I will be working on them when I’m not too busy with college stuff<3

[xo-codbby]

Okay okay, but I’m just imagining Price holding his baby for the first time and being absolutely enamored and struggling to hold in his tears cause how in the world did a man like him have a hand in creating something so innocent and precious and-

*sobs*

I just love dad!Price so much 😭 he’s such a dad

he was just meant to be a dad omg 🥹🥹🫶

the way his heart absolutely shatters in the best way when he sees the little one, his breath caught in his throat, the look to you if this was really real. if he was really here in this moment, if this was really happening.

from someone who didn't have a soul, someone who lived their life alone and isolated to someone who now had the most secure family all thanks to you, there was a million words he wanted to say but not a single one could pass his lips.

he absolutely melts into so many pieces when he holds his baby, a soft breath leaving his lips in pure adoration. how could someone like him, so rough and harsh on the battlefield create something so small and delicate and so utterly beautiful. such a perfect blend of your features and his, he could stare at that little face for hours counting all his blessings and cherishing you both

it was a sweet dream, it had to have been. and he didn't want to wake up from it ever

price can't let his baby go, not at all. even when they want to check the vitals and make sure it's at a healthy weight, he's right beside the nurses hovering and making sure his little bundle is back in his arms

right back next to you, you were the one to make his wildest dreams happen. he's forever indebted to you and the little one. no matter what happened, it was you and him and your baby together against the world.

you catch john looking at the baby at every spare glance when he's not looking at you, every look is with pure tender love. his eyes so big and gentle, lips pulled in the most softest smiles, hands shaking so slightly, still in debelief that he had a baby with the love of his life. and that his family was the most perfect <33

[theemporium]

a dirty flirtini with mat barzal and “i like my bed, but i’d rather be in yours” 🥹 if you have time thank you ily bye

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

26. “I like my bed, but I’d rather be in yours.” 

.

Your relationship with Mat Barzal could be described as a long-winded, pining game of chicken.

It was a complicated relationship, one that many of your peers never seemed to understand. You knew you liked Mat, and you knew those feelings were reciprocated. But you also knew you cherished the boy beyond words could explain and you didn’t think you had the heart to try a relationship and ruin whatever bond you had. 

So instead, you were left in this weird limbo where you both constantly toed the line of friends to something more, seeing who would back out first. 

And it tended to get very close when you both were drunk. 

“Best pick up line. Loser buys the winner a drink. You in?” 

You turned on your barstool so you were facing him a little better. Your knees knocked together, thighs almost pressed against one another as you slid one of your legs between his to keep you in some weird, twisted embrace by the bar. 

The rest of the team were somewhere in the bar. You had been in your apartment—conveniently a five minute walk from the bar, hence why it was one of Mat’s favourite to suggest—when he had messaged you to come out and join then. Half an hour later, you were here and a few drinks in and that line between you and Mat was looking more and more tempting. 

“Hm,” you hummed, narrowing your eyes at the boy slightly. “How do we know who won?” 

“When the other is too flustered to reply,” Mat replied confidently. 

You shot the boy a grin. “You’re on, Barzal. Hit me with what you’ve got.” 

“Are you WiFi?” Mat began, pointing a finger between the two of you. “Because I’m feeling a connection.” 

You snorted. “That was horrible!” 

“I’m breaking the ice!” Mat defended, but he was laughing as well. “C’mon, your turn!” 

You tried to bite back your smile, to stay serious but it was difficult. “If you were a triangle, you’d be an acute one.” 

Mat let out a boisterous laugh, throwing his head back as he did. “And you said mine was bad!” 

“I never said mine were any better,” you shot back, knocking your knee against his to remind him it was his turn. 

“Alright, alright,” he let out a breathless laugh before turning his attention back to you. He leaned a little closer, and your heart jumped at the movement. “I’ve been learning important dates in history. You wanna be one of them?” 

You raised your brows but you didn’t pull away. Instead you moved closer, placing your hand on his arm and feeling him tense slightly. “Your lips look lonely, do they wanna meet mine?”

His lips twitched, a pink tint to his cheeks but he continued. “Only if I can borrow a kiss. Promise I’ll give it back.” 

“Hm, maybe,” you mused, your fingers tracing random shapes along his arm. You could feel goosebumps break out under your touch, could feel the way his eyes were staring at the side of your face before you turned back to look at him. “I like my bed, but I’d rather be in yours.” 

Mat blinked. And he blinked again. And then, he watched as your lips slowly wrapped around the straw of your drink before you took a long sip. He knew he lost the challenge, but it was hard to scramble around for a pickup line when his mind was full of other thoughts that included you and his bed. 

“I win!” You grinned at the boy, nudging his knee to knock him out of his thoughts.

“Uh, yeah,” he cleared his throat, cheeks burning and heart racing. “Put your drink on my tab.”

Your smile widened. “I’ve been doing it all night anyways.”

And Mat couldn’t help himself but cackle, head thrown back and the strongest urge to stay in that moment forever.

.

[ta-ni-ya]

Been staring at this for the past 10 minutes and GODDAMN!!! THIS IS SO FKING BEAUTIFUL!!

I DONT UNDERSTAND WHY YOURE SAYING THIS IS NOT BECAUSE I LOVE THIS SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭 IDC HOW KIRI LOOKS!! To me this is a masterpiece I was not expecting this!!! I’m blown away honestly 😩❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

I just woke up and this is the first thing I see I’m blessed 🤭✨✨✨✨

I did not know who was yoneyama Mai and I searched it up- and damn!!! You did a really good job 😭🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻💖💕✨

Idk how to explain how much I love this!!! Kiri looks so prettyyyy and Sanemi agghhjjhdhhhnhhh I’m gonna cry this is just like I wanted it to look like but you made it better hehehehehe

THANK YOU SO MUCH KIKI!! I LOVE THIS SO MUCH AND I LOVE YOU TOO!!😭🥰🥹💖💕✨❤️🫶🏻

I still can’t stop staring at this 😖

Honestly you made my day even tho it’s night- you made my night 😤🥰✨

i kinda went crazy after seeing yoneyama mai's works on my recommendations again

@ta-ni-ya, i tried...KIRI DOESNT EVEN LOOK THE SAME OMG IM SO SORRY 😭

since i've pretty much declared that i will take the additional details into account, i had a SUPER cool idea of trying to incorporate a sense of bittersweet beauty into this. melancholic, in a sense?

googled- which colour associates with which, and red came up.

so me being me, i just trusted that cause my dumbass wasn't sure if I should go with a blue-centered theme again.

then, i once again watched the colours mv by toho animation, and on that, did my brain spark with that VERY cool idea. so i also decided to search up florals that could convey the same energy cause i am totally knowledgeable in this-😎 ( trust )

settled down for sakura petals...I'm not explaining why, just search it up-

basically this whole piece was based off that mv and my love for yoneyama's works

the mentioned ( tagged ) ones have full authority to save this and do whatever they want with it

YONEYAMA MAI OMGGOFFJSHSK

no copyright no gain blabla hausgwhs yea

[starryriize]

how &team views love | maknae line

╰┈ ⋆｡˚ 🪼genre: fluff!!

╰┈ ⋆｡˚ 🪼author’s note: i don’t know how good this was compared to the Hyung Line ver but i loved how it turned out!! hehe writing abt yuma and jo made me so 🥹🫶🏼

listen to: how long will i love you - ellie goulding

🫧laur's taglist: @kehnarii @cherrycolaberry @leehanascent @hyvelxve

Yuma - To me, he loves with such deep care and affection. I think he views love as beautiful, an emotion that leaves him sad yet wonderfully happy. Love is interesting to him, as it’s not new, but oh, how he wishes you weren’t hurt by your previous love. Despite this, he loves you, fully and with his whole heart. He hopes you realize that you’re loved more than you’ll ever know. Even with all your failures and mistakes, he holds you and continues to love you because your past doesn’t define who you are. You’re still loveable and just as beautiful in his eyes, nothing could ever change that. To him, love is quiet and calm. He cherishes every moment, never failing to remind you that you’re appreciated and worth the entire world. If the whole world comes crashing down, he’d reach for your hand, guiding you to safety and facing misfortune together. Loving him is slowly healing…

Jo - When Jo loves, it's beautiful and the only word for it is magical. It's always shown through his actions and he feels that it's different. He thinks of you in every moment of every day. His love is always so gentle, soft, and warm like his smile. Even when the day seems to be gloomy and you’re feeling stressed, he’s always by your side. Love, to him, is more than a feeling or knowing that his heart beats faster when you’re around. Jo loves you and he wishes to tell the entire world that he loves you. The love that he has for the sunsets, the tiny dandelions outside, the stars that twinkle each night, and the rain that falls...he thinks of you because you deserve to be loved like he loves the universe. Love shouldn't be reserved for special occasions so he makes sure to let you know that he loves you. Everyday. Every hour. Every minute. Every second.

Taki - His love is playful and sweet! Just like him, his love is akin to seeing a butterfly land on a flower. It's delicate and beautiful. He realizes he's in love very slowly, but once he's in love, he finds himself smiling at the most random times. That's what love is- unexpected but welcome. He really can't help but love you. You may think you're not easy to love, but you should see what Taki sees. The way the sunset reflects on your eyes makes you look like an angel on earth. You're even more breathtaking when you talk about something that you're passionate about. Taki loves you in every way.

Harua - I think, despite not having a lot of experience with love, would see love like the movies. When he loves, it’s very real and he values it with his entire heart. I see him as the type to be a soft romantic and stand up for his partner, regardless of what life throws at you. He finds himself picking up your little habits and it makes him smile just thinking about how he hopes you're his forever. Harua views love as something beautiful- not superficially, but the way love is simple. It's fond and familiar. Love is hard, and Harua knows that. Despite the cruelty of the world, he wants to be with you. His love reminds you of summer breezes and the simplicity of life. If forever meant being with you, he would embrace forever with wide open arms. He loves you more than you can ever know.

Maki - I firmly believe he sees love in everything. Perhaps it is his upbringing but to him, love is laughing when you trip on air and saying aww when you see cute puppies. His love is noticeable, yet reserved. You know he loves you but he expresses it in ways that make you wonder if you saved a world in your past. To him, love is learning about you and wanting to live life with you! Loving you is so easy, it's like breathing. He loves you so much and in each kiss, he hopes you know that you're never alone. Even if no one is by your side, he'll proudly stand with you. His love makes you feel like life is worth living, not just being stuck in the corporate cycle.

🫧join laur's taglist!

[formulaa-1]

instagram au⛱️ G.R

fem!reader x George Russell

a sneak peak into the Miami GP with y/n and George and a little suprise… <3

-

y/nusername’s story

-

-

georgerussell63

georgerussell63: vibing in Miami☀️⛱️

tagged: y/nusername

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y/nusername: mwahh😚

Liked by georgerussell63

georgerussell63: I love you❤️

y/nusername: I love you🫶🏼🫶🏼

landonorris: ew guys

georgerussell63: where’s your gf at ?

landonorris: oi

user28: the girls are fighting again

fan2729: lando in the comments 😭

mercgirl101: the cutest couple ❤️

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y/nusername

y/nusername: lil Miami dump <3 ft. mr serious :)

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georgerussell63: i might be serious by I’m most serious about u 😉

y/nusename: smooth👀

landonorris: George has rizz?

georgerussell63: more rizz than you mr lando norizz

user09: BAHAHAHAHA

ln4.fanpage: George’s reply to Lando has me in tears LMAO😭😭😭

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georgerussell63

georgerussell63: my pretty girl in Miami 🌊☀️

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y/nusername: I love you but why did you have to post the last photo 🥲🫶🏼

georgerussell63: because your beautiful baby.

grussellgirly63: STOP IT RN.🥹🥹❤️

fanoflh44_: I need a man like George Russell fr

user356: brb sleeping on the highway tonight.

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georgerussell63

georgerussell63: y/n, you make me want to be the best version of myself ,you love me on both my worst and best days and for that I’m forever thankful for you.I love you so much and I promise to always love and cherish you and I’m so grateful I have you in my life and that I’ll get to call you my wife. I love you ❤️

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y/nusername: I love you so much G❤️

georgerussell63: I love you most pretty girl ❤️

lilymhe: congratulations you two🥹🫶🏼

Liked by y/nusername & georgerussell63

alex_albon: congratulations!!!!!❤️

lewishamilton: congratulations both of you ! roscoe says he misses y/n!❤️🐾

y/nusername: I miss roscoe,also tell him he can be the ring boy🫶🏼

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y/nusername

y/nusername: my forever, I truly am the luckiest girl on the planet, G i love you so much and I can’t wait to be your wife.❤️

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georgerussell63: I love you , I can’t wait for you to be Mrs russell ;)

y/nusername: I love love love you❤️

yourfriendsuser: congratulations angel ❤️❤️

Liked by y/nusername

landonorris: congrats 🫶🏼 can I be like the godfather or something when you have a kid ?

georgerussell63: no go away

y/nusername: we kinda already told lily and Alex they could be the godparents😬

landonorris: you better be joking

alex_albon: 😏😏😏

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authors note🎀 hey guys sorry I haven’t posted an au in like a week Iv been so unmotivated ,sorry about that! I’ll try get through the requests as quick as I can <3 I hope your all okay and doing well ! take care of yourselves 🫶🏼

[pazziville]

june 9th, 2024. you will forever have a special place in my heart.

we could honestly officially mark the 9th of every month or june 9th of every year as THE pazzi day and make it a day to appreciate the both of them as well as the relationship (whatever it may be idrgaf atp) they have as a way to honor the feast we just had in terms of content from the two of them.

this day deserves to be remembered and cherished 🥹🫶🏼

[0rchidm4ntis]

everyone look at my girl........ sob sob she's so prettyyyyy 💕💕🫶🫶 thank you again for drawing her!!!! 🌟

i forgot to ask on artfight but would you like me to upload my attack as well? id be happy to share it here as well ^_^

art fight revenge attack for @0rchidm4ntis !!!

😭😭💖💖💝💝💕💕💕 oooogh thank u for drawing my rirret .... 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[hoshioyoo]

hello! i just received my zine and it was the most wonderful 🥹🥹🥹🥹 thank you so much!!!! i will cherish this forever and ever 🫶

HELLO!!! thank you for getting the zine :D so happy you enjoyed it!!! 😭🫶🫶

[ehilikeshoney]

Putting the genderbending thingie on hold for now because I wanna let you know that today (the 22nd of March) marks ✨one year✨ since I joined the CC fandom on this site; one year during which I was surrounded by silly drawings and kind words from you guys, things which I’ll forever cherish and be thankful for 🥹🫶

So uhhh yeah, for this occasion, I've once again drawn my comfort character... while comforting me, obviously haha

Oh yeah, and her too ig (even tho whatever she’s doing in my dreams can’t really be called comforting lmao [I’m not complaining however, cuz I'll forever yield to my Queen's desires 🥰])

[huyandere]

You draw bodies and clothes and happiness and love and the idea of your blorbos so vibrantly and beautifully and it is stunningly gorgeous. It makes me wish to love and cherish everything for as long as I breathe this green planet's recycled and repurposed air, made anew by wonderful creations from the red earth, but forever the same air that those before us and around us have breathed making us one of the same forever, no matter how different we feel or how others feel different from us. And your art makes me wish to hate and despise and dislike and resent and bully and scoff and furrow my brow no longer, because everything is beautiful and worthy to be understood on deeper levels than the surface rather than cast aside. Especially your art. Your art is so beautiful and I wish to understand it with incredible amounts of love in my heart. So thank you for your creations, whether you create no longer or continue to create. And it is late at night for me as of writing this, and I should be resting up to move my tired body for tomorrow, but my lack of doing those actions I need to do are how you know what I mean is genuine, isn't it? I love you and your art so thank you so so so much. I really mean it. (And I am incredibly sorry if none of this could be understood because my reading comprehension is nearly absent right now so I can't go back and clarify things to the extent I want) I love you! ♥️

OH MY GOD THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON?? 😭😭LITERALLY IN TEARS THANK YOU SM I WILL CHERISH THOSE WORDS FOREVER 🥹🫶♥️ IM JUST TOO HAPPY YOU ENJOY MY SILLY SCRIBBLES SO MUCH 🫶🫶

[ghost-raven-7]

Awwwwww that so adorable! 🥰😍😍😍🖤🖤🖤🖤🥺🥹🫶

Thank you so so so much, @elkkiel 🫶

I will cherish this little guy forever! 🖤🖤🖤🖤🥺🥹🫶❤️❤️❤️

[hakunoluvr]

@nulltune asked: 🥹 miss ma'am hoshino ai im your biggest fan

Are you? That's so sweet and cute! Come here, Lynn! I'll take a special photo with you so you can remember this moment forever!

[gunsatthaphan]

tell me your top 3 bl pairs plsss, an explanation on why or what your fav series of theirs would also be very welcome if you choose to include 🧡

hi nonny!

I'm assuming by bl pairs you mean actor pairs and not on-screen couples? if so then here are my top 3:

FirstKhao - what can I say they're my babes lol their chemistry is above all others imo, they work as a team and no matter what they do, they're in it together. they have a very healthy and wholesome friendship and you can tell they know, understand & respect each other deeply which results in a fantastic acting game & an undeniable on-screen connection. 14/10. favorite show: The Eclipse & Only Friends (can't pick one rn) .

OffGun - the OGs, the legends, the dads lmao. How can you not love them. They've been around for ages and they still deliver, they have an incredible range and (almost) all of their shows slap lol. Not Me was a cultural reset and CC quickly became one of my favorite shows of 2023, only 5 episodes in lol. favorite show: Not Me. .

JaFirst - they used to be a bigger deal back in 2021 than they are now but I still love them dearly lol. They parted ways with MMY pretty quickly after DSN aired and chose to do their own thing which I respect a lot lol. DSN is still one of my all-time favorites and their comeback show last year was super precious. To me they have an amazing chemistry (and they get brownie points for being the absolute sweetest when I met them) and even though they might not make a return I will cherish them in my heart forever 🥹🫶🏻 lol.

I have a lot of other pairs that share the 2# and #3 spot but for the sake of this ask I picked the most solid ones lol.

xxx