#i still have to finish up some stuff once i get to the hotel though

[ironicsoap]

see you people at ANW i mostly got her done in time 😏

[bananayuyu]

Lust is in the Air

Pairing: Hongjoong x f reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.

Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap (Hongjoong is 40 reader is 23), some talk during sex about the age gap so really don't read this if you don't like that, some dom/sub dynamics, throat fucking, degradation and praise, bratty y/n, use of pet names (baby, doll), ass eating, anal, unprotected sex

A/n: Sometimes I see a random video of him and I'm reminded all over again how hot I think a very mature Hongjoong would be. Especially if he was mocking me and making me feel pathetic. Yeah this was pure horny, quite filthy for me. This isn't as proofread as my normal stuff so apologies for any mistakes

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Well, maybe it was a good idea. You had been staying in every weekend since the breakup, and maybe being forced out of the house would be good for you. Force you to interact with a few people, to actually put some effort into your appearance. Maybe put on a little makeup, or actually brush your hair.

"Please don't say no," Beatrice says through the phone. "My family would love it if you came, and I'd love it if you came. And we haven't had a chance to spend a weekend like this in forever. There will be free food and free booze!"

"I know you're worried about me, Bea," you respond, sighing.

"I'm not inviting you out of pity," she says.

"I know, I know. Just, give me some time to think it over. I've got an assignment I need to finish for one of my classes, I think it's due this Sunday night. So if I can't finish it this week I'll need to do it this weekend," you reply.

"Okay, just text me. I'm not gonna invite anyone else as my plus one, if you don't end up coming. So no rush, take your time," she says.

"Thank you. You know I appreciate you so much," you say, sighing into the cushion of your couch.

"You know I feel the same," she says, sighing too. You'd both been through breakups recently. It seemed like your hardships always occurred on nearly the same timeline, making you both able to rely on each other for understanding. And she knew getting you out of the house, especially for a weekend wedding, would be good for you. Her cousin's family was rich and hadn't held back in their planning, booking the fanciest hotel in town for everyone. They were paying for everything; the food and drinks of course, and everyone's hotel expenses. You'd knew you'd go. You'd try to finish the assignment beforehand. But even if you didn't, you'd still go.

Driving up to the front of the hotel together felt surreal. Beatrice had asked to take your car, as it wasn't the bright purple color that her's was. This place was fancy, and though neither of your cars were deluxe, at least your's was black.

"Miss McArthur?" the valet asked once you rolled your window down.

"Yeah, that's me," Beatrice said from the passenger seat, reaching over you to hand him her ID. "This is my plus one, y/n. She should be on the list."

After a brief look at his clipboard the man gave you both a satisfied nod. "Do you ladies have any bags we can carry up for you?" he asked.

"Yes, in the trunk," Beatrice answered for you, which you were grateful for. You'd never interacted with a valet before, never been in such a fancy situation in your life. You stumbled out of the car a bit awkwardly, your jean shorts and t-shirt looking ridiculous next to the suit and tie of the man in front of you. He held out his hand to you and for a moment you paused, wondering if he was offering to take your hand. But then you realized he was actually offering to take your keys. Duh.

"Thank you," you said quickly, heading around the car to meet Bea as you walked behind the man carrying your bags.

On the sixth floor you entered your shared room, a spacious and beautifully decorated space with a huge window covering the far wall. It was a sliding glass door, that led out to a balcony overlooking the river below. In the afternoon sun the water glittered, but you knew the view at night would be the real show, absolutely magical.

"Everyone is meeting in the restaurant at 7," Bea tells you, glancing at her family's group chat.

"Well then I've got a little over two hours to make myself look at least a little bit nice. Like maybe I actually belong here," you laugh, opening your bag to grab the casual dress you'd packed.

"Oh dinner tonight won't be fancy, wear whatever," Bea replies, kicking off her sandals.

"Okay but, with your cousins family not fancy would still probably be a little fancy, right?" you ask.

"You don't need to worry about fitting in, dude. No one will care," Bea replies.

"I just don't want to look like an idiot," you say, eyeing her.

"Y/n, you really need to stop worrying. This weekend is about us having fun. I'm not even that close with my cousin Amana, to be honest. We'll probably barely interact with her family. But we get to attend this fancy wedding, all expenses paid. Just wear whatever you feel like, do whatever you want to. Just promise me you'll have some fun," she says.

"Okay, fine," you respond, rolling your eyes jokingly. "I guess I'll try to enjoy this super nice luxury hotel for the weekend."

Bea laughs in relief, at hearing you joke around. It was what you both needed more of; you both had serious work and school lives already to contend with. And seriously disappointing dating lives, too.

As seven approaches you both make your way to the elevator, pausing at you exit the door to inspect the slight amount of makeup you'd put on. You hadn't worn any in weeks and it made you feel really pretty, along with the flowly sundress and sandals you'd decided to wear. You weren't always one for such feminine clothing but today it felt right, and you both bounced down the hall, spirits high. Bea led the way through the lobby to a long hallway, past what looked like a bar and some other room that had a bouncer, to the large restaurant at the end. Immediately you saw the long tables lined up, clearly set up for the wedding party. This wasn't the dress rehearsal, just the welcome dinner. It was only Friday, and the wedding wasn't until Sunday. Immediately you spotted the wine and appetizers filling the table, scanning the tables to try to find your seats.

"I can't find us Bea," you laugh, awkwardly walking past family members you'd never met before.

"Y/n, you're at our table," you hear a familiar female voice say, and turn to see Bea's mom.

"Oh, hi! Thank you!" you say as you walk over to her, giving her a quick hug.

"So glad you could join us sweetie," she says, gesturing to your seats. "See, you and Beatrice are near the end there, across from Nathan. Oh and have you met Beatrice's uncle Hongjoong before?" she asks, gesturing down the table.

You look down to see Beatrice sitting, pulling her chair under her and smiling wide. Across from her, in a casual but fitted grey t-shirt, a man smiles back, handing her a glass of wine he's just poured. He is striking, with jet black hair and tattoos, piercings donning his right ear. His jaw is sharp, his teeth perfect when he smiles. He looks maybe 27, 28. He's wearing an expensive watch, or at least a watch that looks expensive to your eyes, and a small simple chain necklace. His hair is cropped short at the sides; he looks so put together, so professional. So mature. So fucking attractive.

"That's Bea's uncle?" you ask her. It's not just his age that makes you ask. It's the fact that he's basically your dream come true. You see the muscles in his arm flex as he pours Nathan a glass too, and it makes your eyes cross for a moment.

"Well technically I think he's a second cousin, once removed, or something like that. He's a part of Wooyoung's family." Wooyoung was her husband, Bea's dad. You'd met her parents, and her brother Nathan, but never anyone else in her extended family. And you struggled to recall ever hearing about a Hongjoong before. You stared at him a moment before he moved his eyes over to you, catching you off guard. His look was mischievous, like he wants to play or mess with you. It made it hard to believe this was someone Bea called 'uncle.'

"Do you want to sit?" Bea's mom asked you.

"Yeah, sorry," you smiled at her, making you way down.

"Y/n! This is my uncle Hongjoong, and Hongjoong, this is y/n," Beatrice says as you pull out your seat next to her.

"Very nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand, his handshake strong and confident in a way that makes your body tingle.

"You as well," you reply, with a bashful smile. Immediately Bea asks you a question and you respond on auto-pilot, not even really hearing. Because your head is swimming in water just from being in this man's presence, and you can't focus. You don't even notice the glass of wine he'd poured you until he sets it down by your appetizer plate, gently bumping the stem on the rim of the plate to make a gentle clink. The sound makes your eyes snap up, and for some reason he looks amused.

"Oh, thank you," you say to him, bowing your head slightly. That mischievous smirk is back on his face when you lock eyes again, like he's trying to tell you something, but you can't be sure what it is. You certainly hope he's thinking what you're thinking. God, he's fucking stunning.

Those are the only words you speak to each other for the entirety of dinner. With so many people in attendance the restaurant is loud, louder still as everyone becomes tipsy, and then outright drunk on the unlimited wine.

"Hey, my parents want me a Nathan to go take pictures with them on the golf course nearby. They booked a photo shoot or something," Bea tells you, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not sure when we'll be back but feel free to like, go to the hot tub or do whatever around the hotel," she says.

"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, seriously," you say as you hug her. "I hope it's fun."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be," she laughs. "My parents and their family photos," she shakes her head, making you giggle, as she slowly makes her way to meet her brother at the front door of the restaurant.

You take stock of yourself for a moment, making sure you have your phone and your wallet in your purse, making sure your room key is still in your wallet. You take the last swig of your second glass of wine, patting yourself on the back for not overdoing it this first night when basically everyone around you did. You start sipping on your nearly empty glass of water too, knowing you don't want to wake up hungover tomorrow. The table is basically empty, with everyone slowly clearing out or making their last requests at the bar. You decide you'll go explore in a moment, go scope out the pool and hot tub situation, and maybe see if you can figure out what room is behind that bouncer. But just as you start standing up, Hongjoong approaches the table.

"I got some more waters for the table, but it looks like they've all left," he chuckles, his arms full.

"They went to do a family photo, Bea said," you reply, stuck for a moment awkwardly between sitting and standing. Hongjoong nods, like he already knew.

"Oh, were you about to leave too? Don't let me keep you," he says, the glint back in his eye again.

"I was thinking I'd go take a look at the pool and hot tub, maybe explore a bit," you say. It sort of takes you by surprise that you're sharing this with a total stranger, given your usual instinct to not share anything with people you don't know. You easily could have excused yourself, and been exploring the hotel alone. But deep down you know why you're sharing it. You hope he picks up on that reason, too.

"That's a great idea," he says, gently setting the waters down. "Mind if I join you? I was thinking of exploring the hotel some myself."

Bingo. You smile, eyes fluttering at him for a second. You truly don't even mean to do it, but the way he looks at you has you feeling shameless.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind," you reply, stepping out from your chair and gently pushing it into the table.

"Want to take a water with you?" he asks, holding one out.

"I don't think we can just take the glass with us," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Oh, who cares," he says glancing over his shoulder, seeing all of the wait staff occupied at the bar with everyone's last minute orders. "I'll carry it out, if you're that worried," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side and eyeing you with what must be mock pity.

"Fine," you roll your eyes at him, trying to fight the smile forming on your face from betraying how much his tone and facial expression are affecting you. You turn around and start strolling out of the restaurant, not even waiting for him. Once you're exiting he's already caught up, two water glasses in hand. You turn to your right, heading for the lobby.

"Wrong way, y/n," Hongjoong says lowly from behind you, making you stop in your tracks. "The pool is out those doors at the end of the hall."

"The sign in the lobby says the door to the pool is by the front desk," you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the shadows on his face make his jaw look even sharper.

"Well that door also leads to the pool," he says, gesturing to the end of the hall. You just stare at him a moment, not sure why you feel the instinct to argue. "You don't believe me?" he asks, chuckling and looking you dead in the eye, before obviously snaking his gaze down the entirety of your body. Now that he's standing you see the fitted black pants and black dress shoes he's wearing, making his outfit look even more professional. His thighs look strong, and his stance is one of confidence, his entire demeanor cool and collected. You want to come up with a witty retort but can't think of anything, so you just start walking the way he's said to, again passing him by without slowing down to meet him. You open the doors gently but don't stop to hold them for him, brattiness taking ahold of you. Maybe it's the fancy hotel, or the wine, but you feel like a princess who deserves whatever she wants. And right now that's to piss Hongjoong off a bit, and see the pool.

"I thought nice girls hold doors open for the elderly," he says once he's exited too, sidling up to you. You stand by the long edge of the pool, taking in the lights below the surface that dance through the water. You turn to him and roll your eyes, taking the water glass he offers you immediately. "So, what do you do?" he asks.

"I'm still in school, I'm in my senior year," you say, turning back to the water. "And I work part time as an administrative assistant in the Dean's office, to help cover some of my tuition."

"College senior," he says, like he's mulling it over. "So that makes you how old?"

"Guess," you say, turning to him again, this time with your whole body.

"22," he replies. His voice low, like he's hesitant to say it.

"Close, 23," you say, not lowering your voice to meet his.

"And how old do you think I am?" he asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Mmm, like, 38?" you joke, squinting your eyes as you look intently at his face. The feeling of wanting to piss him off still hadn't left you.

"How astute," he replies, nodding. "People usually think I'm younger."

"You're actually 38?" you ask, bewildered.

"Actually, 40," Hongjoong replies, making your eyebrows shoot up.

"You're lying," you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.

"Wow, second time tonight you've thought that. I don't know what I've done to make you think so poorly of me," he replies, that mischievous look again painting his face.

"Oh, shut up," you say, rolling your eyes harder this time, wanting to reach out and playfully punch him. Or maybe not so playfully. He's looking more and more perfect by the second, and his attitude, the way he's just so confident and calm, is making you hot and bothered. You know it maybe it's wrong, but now that you know his real age you find this whole scenario even hotter. If you were honest with yourself you'd always dreamed of fucking an older man, but the few you'd gone on dates with or had the chance to talk to had always been so immature, insecure, and underwhelming. Just like all the other guys you'd dated. It was a massive disappointment to learn that age didn't often give people that self-assured demeanor that you so desired. But clearly it did sometimes; the proof was standing in front of you.

"That wasn't very nice," Hongjoong replies, fixing you with a look of disapproval that makes your thighs clench involuntarily, as the two of you stare each other down merely feet apart. You hold his gaze as long as you can before you look down at your feet, his stoic demeanor feeling like a brick wall you can't break through.

"You're very pretty, y/n," he says, stepping forward to lift your face up to his.

"Really?" you ask him, eyes wide. Playing it just the way he likes.

"I know you know how pretty you are, you've been giving me those eyes all night," he says, looking like he disapproves. "You're a bit of brat, too, aren't you?" he asks, his hand moving to the side of your cheek.

"No comment," you giggle, and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his upper arm. You grab onto his bicep as he moves his hand to your waist pulling you two closer.

"Dance with me," he says, pulling you slightly into his chest.

"There isn't any music playing," you say, laughing. And it's the way that he doesn't just automatically laugh at your little comments that really gets you going.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me very much," he says seriously, pulling you in and starting to rock you back and forth. You dance together for a few minutes, no words being exchanged as your bodies get used to the proximity, as your mind begins to swim again, even more so now that his hands are on you. You want him to kiss you, do anything, now, but he keeps his hands where they are, still leading you around in slow circles. Fuck it, you think. You lift your hands to his face and pull him in, your lips meeting in a perfect kiss, his hand on your waist moving up your back as he holds you to him, leaning you back as he deepens it. You hold steadily onto his bicep for balance, your breathing fast as you stick your tongue in his mouth, not hiding your desperation. You don't care to, not when you've spent two months without this feeling, tortured over the idea that no one at your school would ever consider you an option after your last relationship ended the way it did.

And just when it seems like you're the only desperate one, Hongjoong moves his hands down, running them up your thighs and under your dress to find your panties. He finds none, much to his surprise, which makes his dick harden even further. He gropes your ass, deepening the kiss more, making you arch your back in neediness. And then he snakes his hand around, slowly moving to your core, before suddenly running a finger over your slit, making you gasp. You've forgotten where you are, totally engrossed in the feelings he's giving you. You buck your hips against his hand, moaning pathetically into his mouth, your legs feeling like they might give out on you. He starts circling your entrance, finally pushing one finger in maybe an inch, when you finally remember where you are.

"Wait, fuck, not out here," you say, pulling back from him. He pulls his hand away immediately, his fingers glistening in the lights of the night.

"You don't want everyone to see?" he asks, a smirk on his face.

"Not when the people paying for me to be here could see," you say. Your lips look swollen and wet from the kiss, and it makes him want to grab you again.

"You're the one who kissed me," he says, his voice low. And you know there's more he's implying, that you weren't just the one who kissed him but that you had rocked against his hand, had wanted his touch. That you'd kissed him desperately, making him unable to stop himself. The implication is inappropriate, the accusation he's laid on you not fair in the slightest. He has no way of knowing what you were trying to make him do, or what you wanted to happen. You hadn't said a word. And yet, he's totally right, making it hard for you to respond.

"That's-," you sigh, your pussy still throbbing from your proximity.

"My room is on the 7th floor," he says.

"Okay," you reply. It's all you can say. You stand completely still, stuck to the spot, waiting for him to move. Instead he puts his wet fingers in his mouth, sucking off your slick in one smooth motion, humming in satisfaction. Your mouth gapes at his lewdness, struck now by just how visible you both obviously are.

"Let's go," he says, motioning his head towards the door.

Your legs move automatically, your mind playing over and over the visual of him licking his fingers, the look of utter bliss on his face. As you walk the hallway he comes behind you, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your body melt into him slightly. It feels good but you gently remove his hand, not wanting anyone to see. You pray that neither Bea nor any of her family are in the lobby when you enter, and thankfully, your prayers are answered. Nor does anyone join you two on the elevator, which makes you willing to stand closer to Hongjoong than you would any other stranger. But still, you don't touch him. As you both exit you walk behind him, almost enough space between you that you could believably look like two total strangers, walking to separate rooms. Until he unlocks his door, holding it open as you slip inside, like you're really not supposed to be in here.

As soon as he closes the door he's pulled you to him, his back slamming into the wall as you nearly crash together, the air between you thick with lust.

"I'm almost twice as old as you, y/n," he whispers in your ear, feeling your pussy clench against his thigh that you're straddling, your mouth on his neck. "You like that," he states, not even asking you anymore. "You like that I'm way too old for you. Too old to be touching you like this."

It's wrong, so wrong and you know it, but the further he pushes it the more you're surrendering to what's happening, to what your body truly craves.

"You've never been fucked right by those stupid boys at your college, have you? You need me to fuck you right, to show you how good you can feel. That's why you were bratty with me, you wanted me to be riled up. Want me to fuck you hard, like I'm mad. Like I'm punishing you," he growls, his breathing heavy as you bite down on his neck, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through his head. "Fuck, you really want me mad, don't you?" he asks and you whine in response, your whole body tingly with anticipation.

"Get on your knees," he says, pulling you back from him, your hair already a mess from his hands, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders and nearly making your tits spill out. "Open your mouth," he commands, and you follow immediately, your wide eyes looking up at him in desire, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "I like when you do what I say," he says, pinching your cheek and making you blush, the praise making your insides turn to jelly. He unzips his pants smoothly, undoing the button and swiftly pulling out his hard cock, the tip a slight shade of red and already leaking slightly.

"Look what you did to me," he says, palming himself, your tongue nearly falling out of your mouth as you salivate over his beautiful cock. "I thought for a moment I'd have to come up here and deal with this all on my own, after you eye-fucked me all dinner," he continues, slowly stroking his length, moving closer to your open and waiting lips. "I should have known you weren't wearing any panties from the way you were acting," he says, gently running his tip along your outstretched tongue, spreading your spit around your face with it and making a mess of you. "No bra, no panties. You wanted to be fucked tonight." Slowly he enters your mouth, gently holding your head as he pushes further in, gently tapping the back of your throat and making you gag. You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting him to fill all of your holes at once. "That feels good, doesn't it. Gagging on my cock," he smirks, your eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in again, this time a little harder. "Eyes on me baby, don't look away," he says, slowly beginning to fuck your throat, gently enough not to choke you but deep enough to make you repeatedly gag, your spit covering his cock and running down your chin, your face a complete mess. "Fuck, your mouth feels good," he groans, his face scrunching up in pleasure for a moment, before he looks down to meet your eyes again, which are now glued to him, glued to every change in his expression, every flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. "I'm gonna go harder baby, I know you can take it," he warns you before picking up his pace, his cock nearly bottoming out in your mouth as he holds your head in place, repeatedly fucking into your throat. You're automatically swallowing around him, your body's reflexive actions taking over. "Fuck, so good," Hongjoong sighs, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen and your body swimming in pleasure. You could let him use your throat all night if he wanted to, especially if he keeps talking to you like that. Like you're dumb and you don't even know what you want. Like he has to tell you or you'll never figure it out.

Finally you choke hard, your body instinctively pulling you back, and he pulls out of your mouth letting you catch you breath, stroking a hand through your hair. You run a hand across your mouth, trying in vain to clean yourself up a bit, wiping the saliva on your dress and staring up at him open mouthed, your entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Hey, don't ruin this," he says pulling at your dress, moving behind you to help take it off. He slowly undoes the zipper, gently pulling the straps down and off your arms before helping you stand to step out of it. Completely bare, you stand in front of him, his hand coming up to spank you, grabbing your ass hungrily in his hand. You yelp at the impact, like you weren't expecting it. Like you hadn't been sticking your ass out ever so slightly, arching your back to add to the affect. "Don't write checks you can't cash, doll," he says, making you giggle and turn your head to face him, a look of utter delight on your face. "It really makes you happy when I scold you, doesn't it," he says, staring you down.

"Why are you so clothed?" you ask, finding your words.

"You want to see me naked?" he teases.

"Just seems like you're hiding something. Maybe under all that nice clothing you're really not that built," you laugh, knowing it would strike a nerve. It wasn't hard to tell that he cared about his figure.

"Go sit on your hands on the bed," he retorts, his eyes narrowing, as he starts taking off his watch, undoing the clasp on his chain. He sets both down on the table gently, pulling his shirt over his head next, revealing that most of his abdomen is also covered in tattoos, his broad shoulders and broad chest. Slowly he sits on the side of the bed to untie his shoes, periodically looking up at you to make sure you haven't moved, moving almost comically slow. You wriggle in anticipation, watching him slowly reveal himself, his muscular thighs finally on display to you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, his cock hard and a deeper shade of red now, still glistening from your spit.

"Lay on your stomach," he says, moving over you when you oblige, raking the hair out of your face so he can see you. "This is what you get for sticking your ass out," he says, swiftly moving down to lick over your hole, making you gasp at the coldness of his tongue. Immediately the feeling runs to your clit, your entire crotch alive with pleasure, your back arching instinctively to meet his movements. He spreads your cheeks to get better access, moving his tongue in quick circles around your tight entrance, your body slowly relaxing from the pleasure he's providing.

And suddenly he's off of you, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle, swiftly lubing the fingers of his right hand and moving them to your waiting hole, gently pushing one in. You groan, the tight muscles stretching already, your body arching even further to give him the perfect angle as he gently starts pumping in and out of you.

"You like getting your ass eaten, I knew you would. So dirty," he says, making you whine in agreement, your brows scrunched together in pleasure. Soon he adds another finger, the stretch again making you groan, your body instinctively tightening up at the intrusion. "I know you can take it," he says, not even attempting to comfort you. "Don't brats like getting their asses fucked?" he asks, his words making your clit ache, your body finally releasing again as he works you open with two fingers, taking the opportunity to quickly add another. "I knew it," he says, satisfied with how quickly he's stretched you open, how pliant your body is in his hands, how he's getting exactly what he wants from you. Still fucking you with his fingers, he opens the lube bottle again with his other hand, generously dousing his achingly hard cock. Gently he pulls his fingers out of you, frozen for a moment staring at the way your hole has opened up, nearly drooling from the visual.

"Spread you legs," he says, pushing your knees apart himself, pulling you ass up towards him, just where he wants you. Lining himself up, he slowly pushes in, the stretch even more severe this time, making you whine in pain, your breaths short and stifled with your head now shoved into his pillows. "What, you can't take it? Is it too big?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "My little brat can't take my cock in her ass?"

Tears start forming in your eyes from how turned on you are, the pain a secondary feeling as it all starts to feel just right, as it starts morphing into only pleasure as your muscles finally relent. You feel like you're being split open, like you're opened up more than ever before, like he's gutting you from the inside. Finally he bottoms out, reaching into you further than you thought you could feel, your clit throbbing painfully with need.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans from above you, brushing a hand along your cheek in an almost sweet gesture, seeing the single tear stain on your cheek. He waits a moment, waiting to feel if your body is ready, and suddenly your hips are moving into his like your body is begging him to move. He slowly pulls out, almost all the way, then thrusts back in, making you gasp at the intense pleasure, your breath nearly getting caught in your throat. Grabbing your hips he starts forcefully thrusting, chasing his own pleasure as he's sucked into your ass, the tight muscles threatening to make him come in an instant. Desperate for some relief you move your hand to your clit, desperately trying to circle it as he rocks you hard with the force of his thrusts. His eyes are glued to your ass, glued to the way his cock looks buried inside you, and your face, the way your mouth hangs permanently open as you moan in earnest, clearly not controlling a single sound that is coming out. The raw sounds make him fuck into you even harder, the way you sound so pathetically fucked out, like you can't believe this feels so good. Eventually his eyes roam down again and spot your hand, swatting it away in an instant, his anger boiling up again.

"Is my cock not enough?" he scolds, his voice gravelly from breathing so raggedly, the air in the room stiflingly hot. In this position it's hard, but quickly he finds a good angle and lands a sharp smack on your clit, the pain lancing through your core like lightning, and suddenly your whole body is shaking, your nerves completely on fire. "Even with my cock buried in your ass you want to piss me off, don't you?" His voice is raised, nearly to the point of losing control, but still very calculated. He lands another sharp slap on your clit, this time not as hard, but in an instant your orgasm washes over you, your whole body shaking hard as you squeeze down around his cock making it hard for him to keep moving.

"Fuck, baby, shit," Hongjoong curses, his climax hitting him by surprise, his cock milked by your tight walls squeezing down on him, your body taught with just how hard you came. His orgasm crashes over him fast and hard, his body going limp just after yours does, as you both collapse in a pile on the bed, his cum coating the walls of your ass in silky wetness. Your legs are still shaking, tucked up underneath you, his cock still buried deep inside. The position is awkward but you don't even feel it, the pleasure still rippling through you as you breath hard into the soft pillow. Hongjoong crashes onto your back, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, his chest and stomach rapidly rising and falling from his heavy breathing. His skin feels sticky and hot against yours, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he plants a kiss there, intently watching your face as you come down.

"I'm gonna pull out now, okay?" he asks, eliciting a hum of agreement from you. Slowly he pulls backwards, his cum spilling out of you the moment he's pulled out entirely, spilling down your ass cheek onto the bedsheets. Hongjoong makes his way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before grabbing a washcloth for you, dousing it in luke warm water. Coming back to the bed he gently moves you onto your back, to the side of the pool of cum. He gently wipes you down, making you moan when he brushes over your clit, making himself chuckle.

Glancing over at the clock beside his bed you see it's nearly 11pm, your mind spinning. Quickly you move to the ground to rummage through your purse, glancing at your phone to see a text from Beatrice reading 'I'm back now, don't stay out too late miss.'

Be back soon, you write back.

"I should be going," you say, trying to stand up, your wobbly legs making it difficult. Hongjoong is at your side in a moment, stabilizing you, helping you to sit down on the bed while he grabs your dress off the floor. You hastily pull it over your head, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the knots that have formed. Quickly you zip the back of your dress, shove your phone in your purse and stand to slip on your sandals, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sudden quietness of Hongjoong also has you feeling slightly on edge, and really your head is just spinning, from every unexpected thing that happened.

"I'm not still mad, you know," he says gently, grabbing your hand as you move to breeze past him.

"Yeah?" you ask, looking at him with confusion.

"You don't need to still be acting like a kid who is in trouble," he says, kissing your hand. "That was just, that. You can talk to me like anyone else, now."

You eye him, swallowing thickly. What does one even say, now? Could he tell how inexperienced you were with hookups?

"I'm not sure what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I hope it's happy thoughts."

You nod, a smirk playing on your lips. You're speechless, unable to think a complete thought. It all just plays in your head, his tongue on your ass, his fingers stretching you out, his cock pounding into you so hard. And the smack on your clit, the way it made you come so fast, the ghost of the feeling still present in your core.

"Not those thoughts. You're gonna jump me again," he laughs, and finally you smack him, punching his arm soon afterwards. Pushing past him you walk fast, opening his door and spinning around, your eyes piercing as you meet his.

"What, you can't take my teasing?" he asks, but suddenly his door swings shut, your face gone in a flash.

As you saunter down the hall to the elevator you feel fucking amazing, swinging your purse over your shoulder and flipping your hair to the side, your sleepy eyes boring holes into the metal doors.

Well, she did tell you to have some fun. You just hoped Beatrice wouldn't be too mad you fucked her uncle.

[maxverstappendefender]

frozen words // fc43

description: gf!reader x fc43 (you can't be at a race due to your own life, despite franco wanting you there)

tw: none that i know of

word count: 1.4k

a/n: based off of request from anon! google translated spanish unfortunately. i read somewhere that franco moved to italy at 14 so for the sake of this fic, he still lives there. he's a little insecure in this fic and i teared up writing it but he deserves so many fics about him and definitely will be writing more for him. part of my december fic series called winter in the fast lane

masterlist

winter in the fast lane masterlist

You were in the apartment that you and Franco shared in Italy. It was small, but it got the job done. Not like you both were home at the same time often anyways. Today was like no other, Franco off doing racing things and you staying back. You had a life after all, you couldn't just drop it all for him like other WAGs could do. You had a career to live out while Franco was living out his as well.

It was quiet in the apartment without Franco, but you had gotten almost used to it considering he had been gone for almost about 3 weeks now for the triple header. He was off in Brazil at the moment, racing in the rain. You hadn't been able to watch the race when it took place due to your job and the time zone difference, but you watched the replay.

You felt horrible that he DNF'ed that race, knowing how much he wanted to prove himself in order to secure a spot on the grid next season. You tried to support him in anything and everything he did but it was hard when you just didn't live in the racing mindset which meant you didn't know how to help him. He never really took that stress out on you though, he loved you too much for that.

However, every once in a while when the world became too loud for him, it just slipped out at you. So you couldn't even be entirely surprised when you checked your phone while eating the dinner you had made, seeing a couple missed texts from your lovely boyfriend who was on the other side of the world. Your heart dropped at the messages, knowing he was in pain and stressed at the moment. He usually called you something sweet when texting you like mi amor (my love) or mi corazón (my heart). Anything. He had never not done that. You knew you had to respond considering this was your boyfriend on the line. You were almost a little surprised that he responded so quickly to your texts.

Franco never texted like that and he definitely didn't leave you on read often. He never texted much in general anyways, always preferring to call or facetime. But he was tired and stressed. How was he meant to stay on the grid next season when he can't even drive in the rain and keeps crashing. It was worse too because the one person he wanted with him was in a different country with their own life.

You felt horrible at the moment and had lost your appetite to even finish your dinner. You knew Franco would be in Brazil for a few more days, finishing up some stuff with the team, before he got to head home. So was it irrational that you were looking at plane tickets to Brazil for tonight? Maybe a little, but based on Franco's texts, he needed you and he would (and has before) do it for you if you really needed him.

The flight left late and took about 13 hours total to get there. You knew what hotel he was staying at due to having met Alex before and having his number. You knocked on Franco's hotel door and for a moment, there was no answer. You mentally prayed that he was even here and not off doing things in the city, or that this was even the right room.

But the door opened and a tired Franco appeared. He didn't look tired like he hadn't slept, but tired in a mental way. He obviously wasn't expecting you and just stared at you for a moment. You just wrapped your arms around him, needing to just hug him. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry for not being here," You spoke into his chest as his arms were around you.

Franco was caught off guard by your hug, by your presence in the first place too. But that was quickly erased as he hugged you back, breathing in the familiar smell of you. You always used this very specific shampoo and he absolutely adored it. He wouldn't ever admit it, but he sometimes bought that shampoo when he was away from you for a long time just to have a little smell of home with him.

"Mi vida (my life), I'm the one who's sorry. You have a life and I don't always have to be with you," Franco spoke against your hair as he held you close to him. He didn't want to let go of you. Part of that was because he hadn't seen you in person in about 3 weeks and part of that was the fear that if he let go of you, then you would disappear in his arms and be off in Italy again. Half of him thought he was dreaming that you were here anyways. It had not been an easy weekend for him in any way.

You smiled a little at Franco's use of 'mi vida'. The Franco you knew and loved was back, even if it was just a little thing. Your hands went up his back and shoulders to the nape of his neck, feeling the short hair that was there. "I would be with you every second of every day if I could be," You said to him, being completely honest too. You loved Franco, just as he loved you. It just got difficult for you to manage your life while he managed his and still try to find time for one another.

"I am sorry that the weekend has been the way it has been. I know that you didn't want it to go that way. But, I'm proud of you no matter how a race weekend goes," You added on to your words. Franco could finish p20 or p1 and you would be proud regardless. He was accomplishing his dream of being in F1 and that was something to be proud of. He supported you in anything you did so you always tried to do the same.

Franco didn't entirely want to remember this race weekend. It didn't go the way he wanted at all. He wasn't sure how he was meant to get a spot on the grid next year if he had race weekends like this one. He knew you were proud no matter what, but he also wanted those good results to secure his future continuing his dream. "Todo bien, todo bien (all good, all good)," He spoke into the top of your head. This weekend had been far from good for him, but with you here it all seemed to disappear.

He grabbed your suitcase's handle and pulled it into the hotel room as he kept hugging you, closing the door. He was unbelievably happy you were here, but he also was so tired. He didn't sleep much last night since he was too busy replaying his mistakes from this weekend on the race track and with you. He walked backwards, pulling you with him, before he reached the bed. He laid on the bed, pulling you with him which made you laugh at his antics.

You felt Franco drop you both to the bed and your laughter filled the air. The hotel bed felt like heaven, especially considering you had only slept on an airplane which was not very comfortable. You leaned your chin on his chest, looking up at him. You brushed some of his hair out of his face with your fingers before speaking, "Are we good?" Franco thought you were so smart, but there were times he questioned it. He had just been stressed and frustrated this weekend and had accidentally taken it out on you since he missed you so bad.

"We're so good," Franco said, intertwining his hands with yours. He brought your hands up to his mouth, pressing some soft kisses to the backs of your hands. "But my sleep schedule is not, so shhhh," He said to you as he closed his eyes, keeping your hands by his lips. He never slept well without you, maybe that was part of the reason why wanted you at so many races. But you were here, so he was about to sleep like an absolute baby.

[verstappentime]

Max mutes the TV, hoping that will get Charles's attention, and doesn't look at him when he says, "I think I'm in love with Daniel." AKA: it's 2017. charles is max's best friend in the whole world. they're turning 20, max wins in malaysia, charles wins the f2 championship, and max needs to tell him something. also: a little coming of age precursor to my unfinished maxiel divorce fic.

maxiel + max & charles | hurt/comfort & dealing with their respective hard years | 3.4k

Max has not gotten to hug Charles in so long. That's what he's thinking when he stumbles down from the podium.

Just a few minutes ago, he was livid at Prema and their stupid safety car cockup. Then he was elated as Charles crossed the finish line, and he triple checked the points to confirm – he really is champion. Now, Max just wants to see him, desperately.

Someone takes the bottle of champagne from Charles, and Max makes his move, crashing bodily into him. Charles isn't like him – he doesn't freeze, just wraps both arms around Max and hangs on. 

He had been worried about Charles not having family here. But he's reminded, as that feeling of coming home blooms, that he does now. 

Neither of them say anything for a beat. Then Max, newly bigger and broader than Charles, hefts him up and spins him around and they both start screaming. "Charles Marc Herve Perceval Leclerc–" Max stops to breathe. "You are the motherfucking 2017 F2 champion!"

Charles is breathless. He looks the happiest Max has seen him in four months. "Oh my god. Holy shit."

Charles has won a lot of championships in his life. But this one means the most. They both know it. 

Max sets him down. "Was that the French anthem?" 

Charles nods, pained. They manage to stay straight-faced for about five seconds.

It takes them a good two minutes to stop laughing. Max's ribcage actually hurts.

"I am so glad my dad was not here to see that," Charles says, once he's done gasping for air.  His smile twitches, though. Max pulls him back in for a hug.

"I am so proud of you, okay?" He presses his nose into Charles's hair, even though he's sticky all over with champagne. Herve would be proud, too, but Max will tell him that later, in private. 

Charles clings on. "I wasn't sure if you'd make it."

"Of course I made it. Did you hear what I said?" 

"Yeah." Charles's voice sounds wet. Max just keeps hugging him. "Thank you." 

"I mean it. You are so fucking crazy, oh my god," Max continues. "I don't know how you did that." Max had nearly looked away, that last lap with five cars on the back of him, not wanting to see Charles lose his win. Stupid to bet against him.

"I didn't lift the throttle," Charles says. His shoulders are shaking. Max can't tell if he's laughing or crying, but he thinks it's the second one. Max doesn't let go, incase he doesn't want anyone to see.

"Your tires were, like, a banana." 

"I know. I thought probably I would bin it." It's Charles who finally pulls back. He rubs his face with his sleeve, and Max wonders if he knows he's just smearing champagne around.

"I sent some videos to your mom, of the podium. I muted them." It gets Charles to laugh again. Max has more to say. He isn't good with words. "You're going to get the seat," he says. Maybe he shouldn't. But he's never been more certain. "You're going to race with me next year." 

"Better watch out, I guess," Charles says. 

&&&

Max got them a fancy hotel room. Having a lot of money is still weird, but he likes to spend it on stuff like this. He likes comfortable beds and having a lot of space and a big shower. He likes being able to bring Charles with him. 

It has two queen beds, even though he's shared a bed with Charles a thousand times before. He thought it would be nice. 

They're crowded on the same one for now, Max watching the history channel with subtitles on and Charles curled on his side, fucking around on his phone. He's getting congratulations from everyone he knows. Charles is popular. It's a lot of people.

After the sprint tomorrow, they'll find something to celebrate, but for now it's good to just. Be around someone who knows how to be around him. 

Max mutes the TV, hoping that will get Charles's attention, and doesn't look at him when he says, "I think I'm in love with Daniel." 

He's been wanting and wanting to tell Charles. He thought maybe when they both got back to Monaco. But it keeps trying to jump out of his throat, like he swallowed a fly or something.

He's never been nervous to tell him anything before, but as soon as it's out, his heart starts beating fast. Charles is taking too long to say something.

"Okay," Charles says, finally. He pushes himself up to sit beside Max. "That's okay."

Charles likes boys. Max has known this since they were twelve. But Max has only ever had a fleeting interest in anyone, and it's never been important, and– and now Daniel is important, and he has to think about it all. He doesn't want to.

"I don't know about being gay or whatever," he says. He still isn't looking at Charles. "I don't know if I am."

He's had sex with girls and he'd liked some of it but maybe not enough. He's had one weird hookup with a guy, a friend of Charles from school or something, after their birthday party last year. He liked that more but he was drunk and sleepy and they called it off after he sucked the guy's dick. Charles had been pissed that it happened while he was sleeping on the couch in the same flat and never asked Max any questions about it. He didn't want to dissect it then and he doesn't now. He just – liked that guy's dick, and he likes Daniel.

He knows what he likes to look at and think about, but only things in real life matter. 

"Okay," Charles says again. His voice is careful. "That's fine. We can skip that." There's a hand, gentle on his wrist. "I knew there was something going on with you." 

Max has been a little off, he knows that. He wants to talk about Daniel all the time and he's worried that he'll do it too much, so sometimes he just doesn't say anything. Charles asks about his day and he tries to sum it up: The team went to this, the team went to that. I'm tired. It was a long day. The car is shit. The car isn't shit. Something something. Charles has asked if he's okay. Max has been trying to be okay whenever Charles asks, this year. 

"I don't know if I– if I'm in love with him," he says, and his voice cracks. He finally lets himself look at Charles, needing, suddenly, to see acceptance on his face. He's the same as always, big green eyes soft. Max tries to say the next part quickly. "I know he's older than me and stuff. I don't want it to be true but I think it is." 

Charles moves so he's sitting in front of Max, criss-cross, and squeezes his ankle. "It's okay if it's true. You'll figure it out. I'll help."

"I think it's true," Max says. He wants to cry. 

"It's okay if you like him. It's good to love someone." Charles keeps his hand on Max's ankle. Touch has always been instinctual for him. Max has never been like that. "I wish you weren't hiding this from me."

"I wanted to tell you. I was waiting." 

"You told me now. It's okay." 

"It feels weird," Max says. He is really hoping he doesn't cry. He can't be crying over his teammate. He has to see him in a few days, at the factory. 

"It is weird," Charles says. He was always in love, when they were kids. Max never was. 

"I used to think I was in love with you. When we were like, thirteen," Max says. He can say it now because he knows it's not true.

"Yeah, I know." Charles is grinning at him. It's the way he looks when everything's going to be okay. "You were always staring at me with your weird bug eyes." 

"I just thought maybe," Max says, and he coughs out a laugh. "But then I realised you are so annoying and I didn't want to kiss you." 

"And you do love me," Charles says, shrugging. "That's different. Do you want to kiss Daniel?" 

That's easy. "Yes. I want to so much. And always I want him to talk to me and be near me and I get jealous if he's not. Or when we go to these things and he doesn't have time for me. And if he helps me with my helmet or something I want to throw up." 

"But it feels nice too, yeah?" Charles is searching his face. 

"Yeah. It feels nice." 

"Okay. Then it's a good thing." A lot of the time, Max feels like he's too old for everyone his age. But Charles has grown up a lot the past three years. He looks so much older than nearly twenty, right now. Calm and sure. It's soothing. It's that grating two weeks where they're not the same age. But maybe Max can be the younger one for a moment. 

"I want it to be a good thing," he says, and he sounds small and more unsure than he ever hears himself.

"You aren't not telling me stuff, right?" Charles lays his hand on Max's shoulder. "Max? Because of– because of Papa and everything?"

"I—" He's just trying to be okay when Charles asks. He doesn't know how to say that. I would die before I would make this worse for you, maybe. He chews at the cuticle on his thumb. "I haven't told anyone," he says, lamely. Charles just keeps watching him. He doesn't move his hand. He looks like he's caught Max doing something he shouldn't. "You had a championship to focus on," Max tries. 

"I won it now. So now you will talk to me, yes?" 

"Yeah." Max swallows. He'll have to. He wants to talk about Daniel all the fucking time. He's not that strong. He tries to let Charles's touch be comforting. He's in love with Daniel and someone knows. Charles knows. He wants to hear more about it. He's not angry. It's good. It should feel good. "Can you tell me how it's okay again?" He's needed to hear it so long. So, so long. 

Charles looks sad. "Come here." He untangles himself so he can flop onto his back. It's been a long time since they could do this, since Max could curl up perpendicular with his head in Charles's lap. It's nice and he didn't want to ask for it. 

Maybe if he has a boyfriend one day they won't do this anymore. He wants one but only if it's Daniel. Maybe Daniel won't care. 

Charles scratches his scalp, the way his mom does, when he's too tired to even talk with her when he comes home. Probably Charles did it first. He didn't see his mom for a long time. "It's okay," Charles says. "It's okay. It's a good thing, Max." 

He breathes. Daniel is a good thing. Max will be able to talk about it now. That's going to be better. Maybe it can feel like something new growing in his chest instead of something festering. "It's stupid," he says, just so Charles will tell him it isn't.

Charles says, "Loving someone is never stupid." He hesitates for a second. "I keep– all the time thinking about how life is short. You know. Because Jules– and Papa– It's. What's the word in English? Like I am obsessed?" 

Max's chest tightens. He wishes he could see him. Charles doesn't see life as fair or unfair, but Max does, and Charles hurting is fucking unfair. "Yeah, that's the word," he says.

"Anyway," Charles says, after a long, shaky moment. "All the time, I think about it. And I think if you love someone it is going to be a waste of time to pretend that you don't, or say it's stupid." 

He sounds grown up. Really, really grown up. He sounds right, like Max should trust him, the blind way a child does. "Okay," he says, quiet, like a secret. "I might not tell him though."

Charles starts petting his hair again. Max really hopes he hasn't made him sad. "What about Malaysia?" he asks, and he sounds normal. "Was it fun, with him?" 

Max tells him about the day of his real  birthday, about how they couldn't go out because of the race the next day but the team brought him a cake. It was Daniel who brought it out to him. Maybe it was his idea, Max doesn't know. But he looked happy. He said something about how it would be nice not to have a teenage teammate anymore, but not in a mean way. It felt like he was excited about Max's birthday, too.

"And everyone was so happy that I won," Max says. "Daniel was, even though he didn't win. He said it was like a birthday present, except for I earned it." Max's dad has been angry at him, about the season being shit. The win wasn't good enough for him and he didn't call, but his mom had been really happy, and Daniel had, too, and Christian, and GP. Charles had called. It was nice. It felt good, when Daniel hugged him and said he'd done an incredible job.

"You both looked really happy on the podium," Charles says. "You have some nice pictures now." 

"I saved them in my phone," Max admits. They do look really happy. He thinks sometimes he's the happiest he's been, when he's around Daniel. Winning, and with Daniel. He feels bad thinking it, when he's here with Charles– but it's different. Love feels different. 

Charles doesn't say it's weird or anything. "Good. Then you can look at them." 

He peppers Max with questions about their night out on Sunday, for his birthday and for the double podium. He talks about how they had an expensive team dinner and GP said some nice stuff about him before they had another cake. Charles stops him. "What kind of stuff?" 

"I don't know. Like about how all of his wins have been with me and it's special." He'd said how Max is really kind off the track and people don't always know that. He'd said he's the most talented driver he's known, and Max had thought maybe that was unfair, because Daniel was sitting there, but it had felt– really good. He doesn't want to tell Charles all of it. That can be his to keep.

Charles hums. "Okay, and then what?" 

"Me and Daniel and some of the guys went out to a club. You would have liked it. I– I wanted to kiss him a lot. The whole time. But I didn't. But it was good. I liked that he was there." Max feels around for his phone, unlocks it and passes it up to Charles. "You can look at the pictures. Some of them are funny." 

"I will kill you if there's nudes in here," Charles says. Max reaches back to wack him on the arm. 

"There are no fucking–" 

"I don't know, Max, I'm pretty sure that is a dick." Charles sounds deadly serious.

Max flips himself over. He doesn't even have time to panic before he sees the wicked grin on Charles's face, and lunges at him.

"Give me that, you shithead, oh my god–" Charles holds the phone aloft so Max can't get it. 

"Oh, hey." Charles bats at Max, half-hearted. "Daniel texted you." 

"No he didn't, you fucking liar." Max pushes himself up so they're level. Charles looks thoughtful, squinting at the screen like he's reading something. Maybe he's not– "Charles. Come on. It's not funny." 

Charles passes the phone to him. He's smiling. "I think I like him very much." 

There is, after all, a text from Daniel. It's a picture of his laptop screen. It's got the F2 race on, Charles in P1, with the whole pack behind him, just before the finish line. INSANE race, mate!! Tell him congrats from me!! That's my ROTY vote in the bag!! We are screwed when he comes to F1 tho. Hope you're having fun, England wet and boring.

Daniel likes exclamation points a lot. He likes making texts longer than they maybe have to be, and adding irrelevant details at the end. Max didn't ask about England. But he likes that Daniel wants him to know. He likes that Daniel watched Charles's race, and acknowledges how fucking good he is. He likes Daniel so, so much.

"That was nice," Max says. It sounds stupid.

"Text him back," Charles says. "Tell him I am the best driver in the whole world, and if he sends nudes you can show those to me." 

Max glares. "I will tell him your IQ is seven, so he doesn't have to worry." 

"I don't even know what that means," Charles says, but he sing-songs it, which means he's pretending. He speaks English perfectly fine, until Max is insulting him.

Max ignores him. He tries to sound normal in his response, like he hasn't just confessed he's in love with Daniel outloud for the first time ever.

Charles says thnx!! Prema are stupid idiots, I cannot believe he won. Glad I made it. Be in MK Monday, think of a good prank for GP. He wants to put a heart, but that feels stupid. It's just. He wants Daniel to know.

Something new happened today. Something changed. You changed me. You might never know, but you did. He can't communicate that with a fucking emoji.

Eventually, he puts three little race cars and the tranquil looking smiley face, and passes the phone back to Charles. 

Charles flips through the pictures without being a fucking dick. He laughs at the ones of Max eating limes at the bar, because he was fucked up and thought that's what they were for. Daniel snapped one of Max passed out in the taxi that Charles sends to himself. "I will think of a use for it later, there is a joke there," he says.

"You're annoying," Max says, but doesn't protest. It will probably be funny.

Charles scrolls some more. "Max," he says, quiet and serious. "Did you see this one?" 

When he gives Max the phone, there's a picture of him and Daniel on the screen. His forehead is pressed against Daniel's shoulder, Daniel's hand light on his back. They're laughing, and they look really, really happy. "I didn't look at the ones with Daniel. I didn't know if– if maybe they were embarrassing." Max presses his thumb to the picture, like he could transfer himself back into that moment.

"They're not embarrassing," Charles says. "It just looks like you love him." 

&&& 

Prema fucks up again, and Charles is P7 on Sunday. Neither of them care. Max takes him out for his birthday. He's a world champion. Even if it's been hard to carve out good moments this year, it's a fucking good one.

Charles hugs him extra tight when he leaves for the airport, hungover and dreading going round and round in the sim. "You'll talk to me," Charles says, not a question. 

"I will. Promise." Max pulls him back in for another hug. "I'm so fucking proud of you. Just–" It's hard to leave him every time. To think about the bad days coming and going without Max there. But Charles has other friends. He has his family. "Just. I'll see you soon." 

Charles presses his face against Max's shoulder, just for a second, and then he lets go. He doesn't like to say goodbye, and it's not for that long anyway, so he doesn't. 

Later, Charles texts him a screenshot. It's of a guy who sort of look like Robin Williams but isn't. There's movie captions on it. Our hearts and our bodies are given to us only once. He always does stuff like this. Sends Max quotes and sports highlights and things, little bits of wisdom anywhere he can find them. Max likes to text all the time, but mostly stupid shit. Charles is always with the drama. 

This one, though. He sits in his plane seat and reads it a few more times. Charles writes underneath: Not stupid. Don't ignore it ❤️❤️

Max reads it again. The not-Robin-Williams guy isn't wrong.

He sends back: I'll try, and makes the picture of him and Daniel his background.

[isaacswhy]

home

isaacwhy x gn!reader (sfw) 1.6k summary: moving to the new house was rough, and you had to stay in a hotel for a few days while the boys moved. once you were settled in, you realized just how much you loved it. requested?: no

It brought you no joy to spend another night in the hotel. Of course, you were thankful that Isaac had paid for your nights staying there, but it was frustrating. You weren't able to sleep at home, with your boyfriend, like you usually were. But, you understood that he was just trying to keep you from going insane from how the other guys acted while they moved. It wasn't his first rodeo doing it.

No matter what, though, you still had to swipe your key card and drop your bag in the hotel as you always had. Isaac spent the first night with you, but had to stay the rest of the nights at the new house while they were moving in. The two of you learned the hard way that when Isaac wasn't around while the grown-up toddlers were moving their belongings, they'd be on the verge of burning the place down all the time.

At the very least, you got to call him. You took your shoes off, doing a quick switch into some pajama pants and walked over to your bed. That was the good part of the hotel, the phenomenal bedding. Isaac really shelled out for your comfort. You fished your phone from your pocket and opened Isaac's contact, pressing the little "FaceTime" button.

The line rang for a few seconds, allowing you to adjust how you looked in the camera before he picked up. Your image shrank into the corner as his face came into full view, beaming and bright. You couldn't help the smile on your face when you saw his big, toothy grin.

"Hi baby!" Isaac half-shouted as you watched him fall back on his bed, his curls spreading onto the blanket.

You waved to the camera. "Hi Isaac! How was the day today? Any good news for me?"

"Today was good!" Isaac sat up and looked down at the camera, "I should be able to have us fully settled by tomorrow. Hopefully, you can spend the night then."

You grinned a little bit at the prospect. You'd missed his strong arms wrapped around you. "That's great! I'll keep my phone on me and probably go out for a little shopping trip in the new city, so just give me a call whenever you think the place is ready."

"Sounds like a plan," He said, "I've been setting up our room, actually. Do you want to see now?"

"No, no, leave it a surprise for tomorrow night." With the house being a little bigger than the last one, somehow, the two of you were sharing a room and Isaac's setup would be in an office room connected to it. Although, you shared a room in the last house, but it was essentially just moving into Isaac's space and tossing your own clothes in his closet.

Things wrapped up easily that night, the two of you talking for a little too long until Isaac had to cut off the call. It was getting late, and he needed the energy for tomorrow. When you finally hung up, you tucked into bed, only Isaac filling your thoughts as you drifted off.

You awoke to the sunlight peering through the curtains the next morning. Grabbing your phone, you saw no news from Isaac and got up for the day.

It was pretty uneventful, other than picking up a few new pieces of clothes and a pair of shoes for Isaac. He was a bit of a nut about his shoe game, and you recognized the pair as one he'd been keeping his eye out for online. Luckily, they had a pair in his size. Shoe shopping for a man so tall was a nightmare sometimes.

You were just getting out of the line with your new items when you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket. Grabbing it showed Isaac's contact and a phone call, so you picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hey! I was just letting you know it should be good to come down whenever," Isaac sounded a little out of breath, "Just finished unpacking the last of our stuff. Had to carry Tanner's desk into his room so he could set up his computer. Anyways, if you want to pack up your stuff in the hotel and come down, I'm ready for you!"

A big grin spread across your face. "That's amazing! I'll be headed down soon. Just finishing up a trip to the mall, but I'm gonna head to the hotel right away. I'll pack up my shit and get down to you in a minute, okay?"

"Okay! I love you!"

Your heart warmed a little bit. "I love you too, Isaac, bye."

You were practically sprinting back to the hotel. Once you got inside, you were glad not to have unpacked everything yet. The rest of your clothes and other personal belongings you had with you were packed up quickly into your bags. The car Isaac had rented for you waited for you in the parking garage, where you tossed your things in there. From there, you hit the road.

The drive wasn't too long, but they'd chosen a location far enough from downtown to give themselves privacy. You didn't mind the drive, though, since it was just building excitement to see your boyfriend for the first time in a few days.

You finally pulled into the driveway and walked up to the front door, using your key to get inside. The place was beautiful. Clean, more modern look but with a touch of the luxury that came with a house of this size and price. Of course, in a few weeks, it'd look more like a bomb went off in here. But for the time being, it looked great.

Nick poked his head out from the kitchen and waved at you. "Hey! You finally made it!"

You nodded and waved back, smiling. "Yeah! Isaac thought it'd be best if I wasn't in your guys' path of destruction while you all got moved in. Since I hadn't brought a lot to the last house, anyways, I'm just the last piece of the puzzle."

"That.. makes sense, actually," Nick laughed to himself, "Well, welcome home! ISAAC! GET DOWN HERE!"

You flinched a bit at Nick's sudden yelling, but you heard thundering footsteps as suddenly, your boyfriend ran down the stairs and towards you. You practically leapt into his arms, feeling him pick you up and spin you around.

"You're home!" Isaac was practically squealing into your shirt as he finally put you down, "Do you like it?"

When you saw him like this, he really looked like an oversized puppy. "I love it! The place looks so nice! For now.."

"I'll do my best to make sure they don't rip it to shreds like the last house.." Isaac nervously chuckled, "Come on! Let me show you the room!"

You took Isaac's oversized hand as you followed him up the stairs, leading you through a hallway or two before he opened a door. He led you inside, and you were met with beauty. It was simple, clean, and everything you liked. There was so much personality, the shelves and tables lined with little trinkets, figures, and other pieces of things that you both liked.

You walked over to one of the shelves, smirking. "Did you get me a Jujutsu Kaisen figure?"

"Only because I thought you were really into it," He said with a shy smile, "Did I get it right?"

You nodded and smiled. It was your favorite character from the show, after all. He'd been a good listener after forcing you to watch it with him. "You did, don't worry. This room is amazing, should we go get my bags?"

Isaac lit up a bit. "Oh, right! I'll go get them, maybe get Nick to grab one. You don't worry about any of that, stay here and get yourself acquainted! Look around!"

Before you could protest, he was out of the room and you heard his footsteps down the hallway. You decided to do as he suggested, looking through everything he had set up in your room. You tested out the bed, which was as soft and comforting as you'd loved.

You walked into the office room connected to the bedroom, smiling at his setup and looking over to see a second setup. Before you'd moved, you had another setup that decided to short out during the hot summer heat. When you needed to play something, you often just used Isaac's or bullied Nick when Isaac was busy.

But, there was a second setup, next to Isaac's. It was your favorite color, with some figures and little items from your favorite shows decorating the desk, and a beautiful keyboard and mouse. You approached it, running your hand over the keys and pressing a few. The sound was off the charts.

"You like it?"

You turned around and saw Isaac standing at the door, with a grin on his face. "It's perfect. Was this the real reason you didn't want me here when you were moving in? So you could build all of this?"

Isaac shrugged his shoulders. "Maaaybe."

You sighed and shook your head. "You didn't have to do all this for me," You said with a sigh, but you walked up to him and smiled, "Thank you."

"Of course I have to, I'm your boyfriend," Isaac's voice made you weak in the knees a little bit. When he spoke so softly as he pulled you into a tight hug, his voice warmed your body like nothing else could.

With Isaac's arms wrapped around you like they were, you were able to take in his scent and sit there in the peace in quiet. It felt like pure comfort to you. It felt like home.

[fandomfucker]

Birthday-Cody Rhodes x Gn!Reader

Request: Cody has to work on your birthday when all you want to do is be pampered with a day of relaxation so you have attitude and he makes you feel better

Word Count: 1,632

2nd Person POV

Friday Night Smackdown and you were once again, in some random city you didn't care too much to be in. It was your birthday weekend and you had wanted to spend it with your fiance Cody, so he had taken you along with him.

It was a pretty nice city, even though you'd rather be home, so the plan was to stay there for a few days. Friday for Smackdown, and then have the day to yourself on Saturday while he did press stuff, and then you'd spend Sunday (your birthday) together. Maybe do a couples spa. A cute little romantic dinner, ending in a movie night. Something fun and relaxing for your birthday.

Unfortunately for you, that's not exactly how everything had turned out.

Saturday morning, you woke up in your shared hotel bed, the spot next to you unusually empty. Groggily looking around, you squinted at the bright light seeping in through the blinds as you searched for Cody.

You noticed light coming out of the bathroom towards the entrance of the room and rolled out of bed, wrapping your fuzzy blanket around yourself as you moved.

Stepping onto the cool bathroom tile, you saw your fiance getting ready in front of the mirror. He had already gotten dressed in some khaki shorts and a nice polo and was currently shaving off his stubble.

He stopped and turned towards where you stood in the doorway once he saw you.

"You're leaving already?" You asked him, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

He smiled softly at you, stepping forward and wrapping his hands around your waist. "I'm sorry babe. I'd sleep in all day with you if I could. But you know how it is."

You nodded in acceptance, knowing fighting about it wouldn't change his work schedule. He kissed your forehead before moving back to the sink, finishing up what he was doing as he began to ask about your plans for the day.

"Well, I found this super cute nail place so I think I'll go get my nails done. And then I found a good-looking sandwich shop for lunch and there's some other stores and stuff on that road so I figured I'd spend most the day there. Probably until you're done at least."

You leaned your head against the doorway as you spoke, mesmerized by the way Cody's muscles looked under the sharp lighting.

He snapped you out of it when he addressed you, a small smile pulling at his lips as he ignored what you were staring at, only to subtly flex his biceps as you stared. "Sounds like a great day, babe. I should be done by 5, and we can meet up somewhere for dinner."

You tried not to let the disappointment that he wouldn't be available until dinner show, so you just wrapped your arms around him and squeezed him tight, whispering 'I love you's and your goodbyes until you were once again left cold and by yourself.

You made the best of your day out. To the best of your ability anyway. You got your nails done, a shimmery red to match Cody's ring gear. You had found a small bakery and gotten yourself a little sweet treat as well as a small birthday cake for tomorrow.

You were living life, savoring the peace and quiet of being by yourself and not having to rush for once. You had even gotten a new purse, it was white with a little yellow and purple flower pattern on it, and you couldn't wait to show Cody.

There was a nice barbeque place not far from where you currently were and had texted Cody an hour previous that that was where you wanted to go for dinner to no response.

No big deal, he often was very busy and couldn't check his phone for a while, but he'd get back to you as soon as he could. An hour turned into two and by 5:30, the designated meeting time, you had still not received any response.

This had happened before. He would get caught up with whatever he was doing and would wind up being late for a date the two of you had planned. You had just hoped that this time would be different since it was your birthday tomorrow.

You decided that whether he would be there or not, that restaurant was where you wanted to have dinner and you made your way over anyway.

Later that night, around 8 o'clock, you were at a local ice cream shop for dessert when you finally got a text back from Cody.

Cody♥️💙: I am sooooooooo sorry Y/n!!! They just kept having more and more stuff for me to do and I couldn't say no and they wouldn't let me have my phone on me I'm so sorry. I'll see you at our hotel❤️

As angry as you were with having no communication with him the whole day, you really couldn't be anything more than irritated. This wasn't unusual so you were kind of just used to this happening at this point in your relationship. But it was your birthday weekend.

Arriving at the hotel, before you could even open the door, it swung open revealing your fiance, a look of guilt on his face.

Not letting him speak, you just fell into his arms, wrapping your arms around his waist as he held you tightly. You closed your eyes and breathed him in, expressing without words that it was okay.

"I was thinking since we couldn't do anything today, that tomorrow we could start early? I found this cafe downtown that looks good for breakfast and then I booked a couple's spa around 10:30. We'll figure out lunch when we get there and then there's this gorgeous flower field not far from here if you want to take some birthday photos." He rambled a little bit as you rested your chin on his chest, staring up at him lovingly.

You stopped him with a kiss to his lips. "That sounds great, babe. And I went ahead and picked up a little cake from this really good bakery I found." You grinned up at him as his eyes lit up at the mention of cake.

"Well, in that case..." He picked you up as you squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck and clinging for dear life as he spun around towards the bed, lightly dropping you onto it with a dramatic, "And Cody Rhodes, slaming Y/n L/n on the bed!" Sending you into a fit of giggles that lasted through the night.

------------------------------------------------------

The sound of someone's ringtone was what woke you up the next morning. "Cody." You reached behind you, slapping his chest to wake him up. It was his phone that was ringing.

"Ugh. Hello?" You heard him answer as he threw back the sheets and sat up.

You reached out and grabbed your own phone to check the time. 6:43 am. You groaned and dropped your phone to the table, face-planting back onto the bed.

"Y/n," Cody shook your back to wake you up. You just groaned in response, too tired to do anything else. "Y/n I'm so sorry, baby they have some more stuff for me to do. But, you should come with me. Please?"

You were too tired to really think anything other than you wanted to be with Cody, so you agreed and begrudgingly got up and ready, and next thing you knew you were sitting next to him in the backseat of your Uber to who knows where.

You ignored any attempts from Cody at a conversation, deciding to scroll through Instagram instead, hyping up some of the WWE women in their comments.

You continued to ignore him, even after he told the driver to stop at your favorite coffee chain super quick.

You let him kiss your head before he ran in, leaving you in the car only to be back a few minutes later with the largest size of your favorite drink.

"Thank you," You said, taking the drink from him and taking a sip before going back to your phone. 

He sighed before going to his phone, feeling hopeless at getting you to no longer be upset with him. You started to feel bad but stuck to your feelings.

He had promised the day together and now he was working and had taken you with him.

You couldn't even eat your own birthday cake because it was back at the hotel!

So yeah, you were in a bit of a bitchy mood today.

The rest of the day consisted of you sitting backstage as you watched Cody in his interviews. He would try to talk to you in between but his schedule wound up being so busy that he would just be rushed right past you every time.

"I swear, I'll make it up to you." He had promised.

It wasn't until you had finally made it back to your hotel that afternoon that he was able to fulfill that promise. 

Walking into the room, rose gold and white balloons filled the room with rose petals covering every surface. The cake you had bought was laid out neatly on the dining table and 'Happy Birthday Y/n' had been written on it in white frosting.

Perfectly wrapped presents were piled in the corner and you could smell your favorite candle burning from somewhere in the room.

Your eyes welled up at the sight and you turned around to see his guilty face once again.

"I really am sorry, Y/n. I swear I wasn't supposed to work today but stuff comes up. But like I said, I'll make it up to you in any and every way I can.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and rifled through all the cards before pulling one out.

At your raised eyebrow, he handed you his credit card, kissing the top of your head. "This is just the start, but, feel free to go wild." And feel free you did.

[robin374]

I saw that your requests were open and I jumped into action lol

Any ideas for the Mercs and reader with an “only one bed” trope? (Love the stuff youve written btw <3)

One Bed Trope with the mercs (part 1)

I'm gonna start with Demoman because he is my husband and gets the privilege of being the first.

Demoman ❤️

He just wanted to sleep man 😭

When you two finished the assigned mission that Miss Pauling gave you two, you went to the hotel/motel (how do you call it in English?). When you entered the room the first thing you two saw was a single big bed, for two people.

You looked at Demo and he was awkwardly standing there. He couldn't believe his eye

👁️👄

"I'll sleep on the floor, don't worry Demo." "No, Y/N. I've slept in all kinds of places, I think I can handle sleeping on the floor" "And that's exactly why you are sleeping in the bed"

At the end, you two decide to sleep in the same bed. He couldn't help but feel nervous, like yeah, he has slept at the top of Edinburgh's castle. Or with some random seals at a random beach. But he's never slept with the person he's in love with.

With that said, he remembers those words his Mom told him once.

"You better get a job, Tavish!"

I could give him a good job-

I don't know why he remembered that, don't ask me.

HE'S SO WARM KSDKAODJAKL I feel like his body would be so warm, because of the amount of alcohol he consumes.

He snores a little bit. Just tiny tiny tiny tiny little bit. 🤏

Not as much as Heavy at least.

He's a heavy sleeper so good luck trying to wake him up

I feel like he would see it as an opportunity to confess his feelings. Like you two are talking while laying down in bed, and casually spits it out. By the time you realize what he said, he is already sound asleep, his back facing you.

"I'm in love with you, Y/N" "Hmm? What did you say? I didn't hear you *Scottish snoring*

Scout 🤡

HE DOES NOT HESITATE 🗣️🗣️

He knows what these situations are about and he will not let it slide so easily.

He doesn't even ask you if you are okay with sleeping with him, he just says "I'm so tired, let's sleep!" And he launches himself towards the bed.

He will pat the space next to him silently telling you to sleep too.

But then reality hits him like a rock, he is sleeping with you. He is really happy, any girl would've slapped him at tha exact moment, but you just accepted your fate.

He doesn't snore, but he does this thing that dogs do that is moving his legs as if he was running.

You better be a heavy sleeper because he talks while sleeping.

"Spy stole my chicken and now I can't eat my bullets. " "Scout are you awake?" "Fuck you Spy, I miss my chicken :("

He got so red when he woke up in the morning. You were still asleep, that's the first thing he saw after opening his eyes. He wanted to kiss you so bad.

"Good morning, toots. You've slept well?"

He's so in love with istg.

But he won't confess, he wants to keep this as a (really) good memory and confess after he's sure that you feel the same.

Scared of rejection I guess.

Engie 🤠

He's so casual about it.

He has to sleep in the same bed as his crush? Well, darn.

"It is what it is" energy.

You don't want him to sleep on the floor and he doesn't want you to sleep on the floor. Oh no, sadly we will have to sleep in the same bed :( (that's sarcasm for those confused)

"Come here, sugar, I don't bite." Unless you want me to.

He snores more than Demo sorry, it's bearable though. It's like having a horse next to you huffing and puffiing. A horse you don't mind to ride (ok I'll stop now sorry lmao)

He's like a teddy bear, he doesn't mind if you hug him. On the contrary, he will "unintentionally" pull you closer.

He would wake up in the middle of the night, because he's not used to sleeping like a normal person would do. So he will take advantage of it and admire your beautiful face. How the moonlight delicatedly lights your face, your closed eyes giving that feel of calmness... He will eventually kiss your forehead and go back to sleep.

He won't say a word about it in the morning. He will just greet you like always do in the base and get back to work.

In the inside he's screaming, dancing, running, whooping of joy. For him, it's one little step more to you being his pardner.

[prettyyoungandbored]

Playboy - Johnny Knoxville

Pairings: Johnny Knoxville x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of nudity

Author’s Note: A short Johnny Knoxville x Babydoll fic.

NOT MY GIF

“I was thinking maybe we get the guys into a glitter pool,” Jeff spoke up.

Y/N snorted, her coffee cup to her lips. “The clean up process is gonna be bitch. We did a similar concept for a ‘Playboy’ shoot once and it took us two hours to clean up everything.”

Johnny perked his head up, interested. “Wait what about ‘Playboy’?”

“Oh, I worked production on some ‘Playboy’ shoots,” she shrugged.

“She also wrote for the magazine,” Jeff added. He turned his attention back to Y/N. “They really made you guys clean it up? Doesn’t the mansion have like a clean up crew?”

“Yeah for the mansion,” she said. “The shot ended up looking amazing but it was just awful to clean up.”

Johnny tuned out the rest of the conversation as his mind drifted to daydreams of Y/N posing for Playboy.

======================================

An hour later, he wandered over to Y/N’s makeshift office where she finished printing the shooting schedules for the week.

“Hey you!” she beamed. “I was thinking about stopping at the store and bringing some dessert for the Margera’s dinner tomorrow tonight. Any ideas?”

He waved his hand. “Anything will be great. So, ‘Playboy’, huh?”

She made a face. “You do realize it is not that big of a deal, right? Like it was a job.”

“But then you wrote for the magazine too?”

“Yeah. Hugh Hefner and I got into a conversation one time and he was interested in my writing. I sent him a couple stuff and he published it.”

Johnny’s eyes widened. “What did you write?”

“I can send you copies,” she laughed. “I wrote under a pseudonym.“

“Oh yeah? What was the name?”

“Maxine Flynn.”

Johnny nodded his head, making a mental note to search the went for the name. “Did you ever get scouted or asked to pose nude?”

She scrunched her face. “God no.”

“So you had a whole conversation with the man himself and he didn’t once ask you if you were interested in being a playmate?”

She chuckled. “I get where this is going and you’re very sweet, but no, I did not get asked to pose for the magazine or to be a playmate. All I did was some behind-the-scene stuff and some writing.”

He shoved his hands in his pants pocket. “You would’ve been my favorite playmate.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“You know what, you are my favorite playmate.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not how that works.”

“I don’t care. You’re my favorite playmate.”

She hummed. “I didn’t realize you would be ok with the entire world seeing my tits out.” She kissed his cheek. “Good to know though!”

She made her way out of the office when Johnny yelled out, “Hey, I never said that!”

======================================

Johnny spent hours reading Y/N’s stories for Playboy, blown away. Sure, he was aware of her creativity and brilliance, but he didn’t realize just how truly talented she was.

The knock on his hotel room door pulled him away from his rabbit hole. He opened the door to find Y/N standing there.

“I can’t sleep so I need to you cuddle me until I do,” she said, walking in.

He closed the door and watched her crawl into his bed.

She looked at him. “What?”

“Yeah, I just spend like a couple hours reading your Playboy stuff,” Johnny admitted, pointing to the laptop.

She glanced at the laptop and then back at him. “Ok, so ask me your questions while you cuddle me.”

She held out her arms as Johnny closed the laptop and then jumped into bed beside her.

As she cuddled to his chest, she yawned. “Alright, what questions do you have for me?”

======================================

Two Years Later…

Y/N knocked on Johnny’s home office door, holding a the wrapped gift behind her.

“What’s up, Babydoll?” Johnny asked, his eyes still on his desktop computer.

“I have a present for you.”

Johnny’s eyes now moved to her and he got up from his desk. “What is it?”

She presented him the wrapped item. “Think of it as a little engagement present.”

He pouted, taking the gift in his hands. “Cutie, you didn’t have to get me a present.”

“Oh, but I think you’ll like it,” she smirked.

Johnny ripped it open and his face dropped. It was a framed photo of what looked like a fake Playboy magazine cover with Y/N posing semi-nude. She held her bare breasts with her hands as her lower region was covered with a large text that read FUTURE MRS. KNOXVILLE.

Johnny fixated on it, unable to process what the hell she had given him. She smiled at him, delighted.

“I used my connections for the photo shoot and graphics,” she explained. “It looks real, doesn’t it?!”

Johnny turned to his face, eyes hungry.

“Bedroom. NOW.”

[chishiyaisasnack]

Dare, part 7

Part 6

Hello again! Long time no see. My writers block is still in full effect. Anyway, here’s a little fun one. It’s not very smutty but that was all I could muster this time. I do have bigger plans for the next chapter, and hopefully it won’t take me 6 months to finish it.

Disclaimer! This is (light) smut. Minors and those of you who don’t like the topic, please stay away.

It’s written and posted on mobile so I apologize for any wierd formatting.

How did you end up in a cleaning closet in the meeting room that all the executives were going to gather in, in approximately three minutes? And how did Chishiya end up in it with you? Those were some of the questions that were buzzing through your mind as of this very moment.

”I did not agree to this,” you scolded him, not sure what you did agree to, to be honest. The tiny room was filled with things such as vacuum cleaners (covered in dust, what an irony), mops, drawers and buckets stacked on top of eachother on said drawers - all lit by a dank, yellow lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. For such a nice hotel, this cleaning and supply closet had been severely neglected.

”You said that you would help me clean, remember?” Chishiya shot back at you, his back turned against you as he rummaged through some cabinet filled with different types of detergents and cleaning products.

”This isn’t cleaning though, is it?” No matter how many taps with your foot on the wooden floor, annoyed sighs you made or ”hurry up” coming from your mouth, Chishiya still wasn’t done when you heard the entrance door to the meeting room open. The air was filled with voices, becoming clearer after each person that entered the room. You were out of time, if you wanted to get out of here you had to go now. One last look - okay, glare - at Chishiya, who had stopped his rummaging and were putting something in the pocket of his hoodie before him turning around to face you, and you were ready to leave all this dust behind you (Chishiya included).

”You are just going through stuff in drawers,” you hissed at him, only making him smirk. ”That is not cleaning.”

In the background, chairs started scratching against the floor as the excecutives started to sit down. They were right outside the door now and you could hear every word they were saying.

”I guess Chishiya won’t grace us with his presence today,” the Hatter exclaimed loudly in the joined room, followed by a sigh that was probably heard across all of Tokyo. ”I guess we’ll start the meeting without him.”

Your heart was beating out of your chest as the stress of getting the hell out of there was pouring over you. They were going to hear you, they were going to think that you were listening in on them. Or worst of all - they would try to make you join them. Hell no, you were getting out of the damn closet.

”Okay I’m leav-”

Chishiya slapped a hand over your mouth before you even had a chance to turn away from him, and grinned back at your horrified expression. What the hell was he doing?

Your eyes were shooting daggers into Chishiya’s dark orbs, silently telling him to let you leave the closet before they started the meeting and said something that you didn’t want to hear. You were not going to be an accomplice to whatever scheme they were making. There was a reason why you refused to be in that group of idiots. Standing up straight, you took a quick breath and reached for the door handle, just to be grabbed by Chishiya’s hand and dragged further back into the closet.

”If you leave now they’ll force you to join in,” he whispered, so amused by the situation that you wanted to kick him in the shin.

”If I don’t leave now they’ll think I’ve been listening behind their backs,” you hissed as low as you could while pulling your arm out of his grip.

”Are we starting this or not?” Niragis irritated - make that irritating - voice broke the stare off between the two of you and you made another leap for the door. Just to once again be stopped by the man next to you, who this time decided to force you out of his way and block the door with his body. God damn it.

”Fine,” you muttered. ”I’m not listening to them though,”

Chishiya smirked and watched as you took a few steps further back into the small room. You thought that the further in you were the less they would be able to hear you when you eventually would cuss Chishiya out for whatever he would do next. What he did do next was not a scenario you had expected.

”This might take a while,” he whispered, following you like a shadow. ”We should do something to pass the time.”

Reaching the end of the closet, now fully turned towards him again, confusion took over your annoyance for a second. What did he mean with ”something to pass the time”?

Before you could utter even a ”huh”, Chishiya had gotten closer, now so close that you could feel his body against yours. His hoodie was soft against your skin when he took one last step and was now flushed against you. Soft lips and pointy hair tickled the side of your neck as he spoke again.

”I dare you to not make a single noise before those people leave the room,” he said, his voice barely a whisper aganist your ear but still so loud that every nerve in your body turned to life. Slender fingers ghosted over you arm, from your fingers to your elbow, then back down again before running them along the bottom of your shirt, teasing them along your stomach. Oh, that bastard.

Still, you couldn’t deny how good he was at getting you going. Your breath had already sped up, your hands clenched onto the sides of his hoodie and that tingling feeling between your legs was already there. You barely registered that his hand had moved further down and was now playing with the waistband of your shorts, successfully popping the button open before reality finally hit your lust clouded mind and snapped your eyes open. When did you even close them? Moving your head back so that you could look at him, you shot daggers into his eyes, seemingly making him even more amused than he already was.

”What the fuck are you doing?!” you mimed at him, but that only made his grin wider and his hand snake it’s way down your pants faster.

You wanted to stop him, but you also wanted him to continue and get into your panties already. Conflicting feelings, but you knew that the latter was the one that was going to win. Pissed at yourself for giving up your pride so easily, you spread your legs a little to give him better access. Chishiya was so happy with himself right now, you could feel it in the way that he wiggled his hand under the waistband of your underwear and gently stroked over the skin above your center, taking an extra second to linger there just to tease you just that tiny bit more before finally moving further down.

A warm finger slid over your outer folds, treathening you enter at any second but still taking its sweet time. You dug your nails down into Chishiya’s arm to try to ground yourself while you were waiting for him to stop toying with you and touch you properly, but as usual he had other ideas. You could feel the smile on his lips as he pressed them against your neck, right below your ear, dragging out a soft sigh from your throat.

”Shh, they’ll hear you,” he whispered softly before pressing his lips down again. A light dab from his finger reached your clit, and even though it was barely a touch it sent a jolt through your body. Smirking at your response, Chishiya finally started to move his finger - unfortunately it seemed that he had lost all memories of how to do it properly. You knew that he was having fun messing with you by the way his finger just happend to miss your clit while drawing circles around it. If you didn’t know better you would think that this was his first time ever touching a vagina. You rocked your hips in frustration, trying to get him to stop his teasing, and with a silent, snickering, huff of air against your ear he stopped playing and started stroking you just the way you needed him to. Slow, calculated motions that sent electricity through your body. He knew exactly how much pressure you wanted, what speed you needed, and he gave it all to you.

”Feel good?” Chishiyas words were barely there, so soft and quiet that you almost thought that you imagined them. A tiny nod was all you could give him, your face now buried in the hoodie on his shoulder to make sure to keep quiet, and to muffle any possible noise you unthinkingly made. You would not lose this time, you refused.

The voices outside were long gone from your mind. Even if they were there, your ears had blocked them out and replaced them with the sound of your own heartbeat mixed with Chishiya’s breathing. It was almost as fast as your own, flowing next to you like a calming white noise. That, blended with the smell of him clouded your mind and let you enjoy the warmth that his fingers quickening pace was giving you. It felt good. So good.

It didn’t take long for you to feel it, the tightening in your belly, the fire heating up your body, the bliss that was going to spill over. You dug your nails down a bit harder, earning more pressure from his finger, driving you closer and closer and-

*SLAM*

Both you and Chishiya froze, teeth clenched to not make any sudden noise and give away your position.

”Let’s just fucking kill them off then!” Niragis voice echoed through the room, merely a few meters from where you and Chishiya was fixed in place. His hand was still between your legs but he had stopped moving it in preparation of getting caught. Slowly, you lifted your head up from his neck and stared at him, trying to find any help with how to react, but Chishiyas eyes were excited. How was he always so calm during situations like this? One noise and you’d both be busted, and yet here he was, with that stupid smirk while waiting for what would happen next.

Seconds felt like hours as you both stood there in complete silence, waiting for Niragi to walk away from the door seperating the group from the two of you. Your heart was racing and beads of sweat were starting to form on your neck as you held your breath. Fuck, what if he tried opening the door? What if he slammed his gun into it instead of the wall and accidentally broke it open? Just to see you standing there with Chishiyas hand inbetween your legs. There was no bullshitting your way out of that. You would have to live with the constant harassment of the beach making fun of -

The finger pressing down on your clit abruptly interrupted your thoughs and you couldn’t help but to almost squeal in suprise. Thankfully you were clenching your teeth hard enough to not let it slip out, but Chishiya’s face was amused nontheless.

Thankfully Niragi decided to head back to the table and leave the door alone without any further slamming on walls. As soon as you heard the footsteps become lighter you let your head fall back onto Chishiya’s shoulder, choosing to ignore the excited expression that was plastered all over his face. If you didn’t know better you would think he was trying to get caught. You barely had time to let go of the breath you had been holding in, before his fingers returned with full force and pushed your body right back to where he had left you - on fire and with that tight knot in your belly that was so close to unravelling.

”Hmm…” he hummed happily into your ear, fingers not relenting. ”It feels like you enjoy almost being caught.”

”Shut… up…” you tried to mouth back at him, but as soon as your mouth opened his fingers found their way to your entry. Inch by agonizing inch two of his fingers sank deeper until he started to rythmically move them, stroking your walls with ease from how wet you were. He let the palm of his hand rub against your clit while his fingers rubbed your sweet spot over and over again, guiding you to the orgasm your body had been holding in.

You came with a huff of air, muffled by the white fabric that you were desperately clinging on to. Chishiya continued to pleasure you through your climax, softer and slower but still enough to drag out every possible second of bliss. When you were finally coming down from your high you raised your head back up and took a deep breath, which you almost choked on when you heard the chairs in the room outside all slide over the floor at the same time.

”Okay, the first one to see Chishiya will tell him to come and see me,” the Hatter loudly ordered the crowd, clearly bothered that he would have to repeat the meeting to the man who had heard it all, but ignored it to play games with you. His voice was followed by footsteps, and just like that the room was empty again.

”Good job,” Chishiya smugly whispered before removing his hand from your panties, to then nonchalantly wipe his fingers on his own swim shorts. Your eyes followed the way they curled into the fabric, swirling around on there to dry off any traces of you before heading out. You crinkled your nose at it and hoped that he would wash them as soon as he got back to his room - but then realisation hit you like a brick.

”How are you not hard?” The slight squeak in your voice turned his attention towards you once again. The front of his shorts were flat as a pancake and his hoodie wasn’t even covering up that particular area.

”Why do you ask?” Chishiyas was enjoying your suffering and shame, no doubt about it. ”Do you want to get me off too?”

He swung his hips back and forth, mocking you.

”No thanks,” you retaliated, sour that he was able to keep such control of his body while you had just let him finger you in a dusty closet with people outside. You decided to change the topic. ”So what do I get for winning?”

”You get the honour of washing my shorts later.”

[zippidi-dooda]

So, years ago I was rewatching Cars and since the Bakugou brainrot was strong, I suddenly got the idea that "Hey, Lighting's a bit of a prick at first ... what if I made a story based off this movie with Bakugou as McQueen?" I was specifically looking at the scene where McQueen gets the white-wall tires, y'know his "suit change to impress Sally, and that one drawing someone made of Bakugou in a white suit occupied my brain and it solidified my "this is a good idea" thoughts (ps can't find that specific image no matter how I search it, but if I do I'll add it here sometime)

I had planned to take notes, rewatching the movie over and over to see what I could replace some scenes with since the characters for this story would be human racers and stuff.

Now, I never got around to it

But I took mental notes only writing the important things (what characters would best fit as who) and imagining scenes between Y/N and Bakugou (but not writing those down for some reason??? Still remember bits of some of them though) And wrote half of the first chapter

Here they are to finally see the light of day, (I'll explain why I wrote the characters as who if I remember why):

Summary

Life going was perfectly for the speed racer, Bakugou Katsuki. He had it all, the speed, the fame, the money, and was just one race away from becoming Japan's number one racer. But life seemed to have other plans in mind for him.

***

Speed.

That's what was always needed of Bakugou on the track. And Bakugoy always delivered. Today would be different though. 

He was speed.

He'd push it to the limit - no. Past the limit.

He would win this race and Deku would no longer be number one.

Deku . . . .

Man how he hated the curly haired, green eyed freak. Deku would never amount to nothing, all of those days Bakugou spent playing in the backyard with the kid, racing their remote control cars and playing video games taught him that.  

He never once lost to that loser and made sure to let Deku know that would never change. Ever. Bakugou would always be on top. Number one.

Boy did karma hit him hard.

"Dynamite! You gotta get out there already!"

"I fucking got it!"

Bakugou opened his red eyes, looking around his trailer. 

He was sitting on top of a cabinet with his eyes closed, waiting for show time.

Being alone in his trailer doing nothing was a ritual he always did before a race.

No reason why. He just did it.

The trailer had space for tools and such in case he needed to tune up his car on the go. But there were also shelves lined with his trophies from past races and merchandise featuring him or his car. A single picture waited for him on top of a small cabinet, which held snacks and an extra pair of clothes for him. A mini fridge was next to it holding drinks and such in case he got thirsty on a long drive.

Bakugou practically lived in the trailer. Always having to travel here and there to get to races. He sat in his car the whole time. It was a little cramped sure, but he preferred it to taking a plane, flying to his hotel, having to deal with paparazzi, possibly bumping into Deku or other competitors and having to talk to them.

Bakugou had a short fuse and often ran his mouth to the point rivals would try to fight him. And when that happened Hakamada would force him to have grade school lessons for manners and etiquette and all that to teach him how to "play nice."

That was useless. (And for some reason he was always forced to wear jeans and over-brush his hair?)

Katsuki Bakugou didn't need to be treated like a kid. So the trailer became his favorite place.

Through the tinted windows he could spot the extra from his pit crew who yelled walking away, past the other trucks. He rolled his eyes at them, he knew he could finish every race without a crew but it was required in order to race. So he (had to) let them stick around. They never got along, but it was fine by him since it meant no unnecessary interactions outside of the racecourse.

His manager, Hakamada, did chew him out for it saying he needed a good relationship with the team in order to get a better performance. But they did just fine now so there was no need to try with them.

Bakugou tightened his gloves, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then got ready to walk out the trailer door. He took a second to pick up the photo sitting on the cabinet. He looked at it for a second, memorizing again every detail on the piece of paper, his grip tightening before pressing a chaste kiss to it and tucking it into his chest pocket.

It was a good luck charm you could say. Never raced without it on him.

It was go time.

He was instantly blinded by flashing cameras clicking away, mics up in his face, people waving at him, and shouting - from both the reporters and the crowd.

"Mr. Dynamite!"

"YESSSSS!"

"DYNAMITE!"

"Over here!"

"Tulsa from Konto News, can I get a statement?"

"SIGN MY FOREHEAD!"

"Do you think you'll win this race?"

Bakugou held back a groan.

He always had to walk with a crowd of reporters towards his station. Still, he hadn't entirely warmed up to all the randos always in his face but he indulged them with some words.

"Sit down and watch the damn race for your answers."

"Mr. Dynamite, over here!"

"Dynamite, I'm with Dai Press-"

"I LOVE YOU DYNAMITE!"

"MARRY ME!"

He paused in his walk and addressed the people around him.

"All I have to say to you is, I'm gonna win. That is one sure thing you can get from this race so stick around."

They grew louder. Bakugou ignored them and continued walking until he heard one thing.

"You and Deku have been neck in neck since the start of your career, Dynamite, and you've only been first in the beginnings of every race. You've never actually ended any race in first. Never went home with a first place prize. How do you expect to come out on top today?"

Bakugou turned on his heels and scanned the people, "Who the hell said that?"

He wasn't sure and everyone continued speaking over one another. So, he yanked a random mic out of someone's hand.

"Deku's had his undeserved moment in the sun long enough. I can promise you this: his lucky streak ends with me. Got that? Put that in the papers."

Shoving the mic into whose ever hand, Bakugou continued to his spot, picking up the pace and blocking out everything else anyone had to say.

***

"Alright Dynamite, if you want to win this race for once you need to get your ass over here for a pit stop. Every time we call you over. Can you do that or are you enjoying eating greenies dust all the time."

Bakugou scowled at the extra handing him his helmet.

If they really wanted him to listen maybe they shouldn't be such assholes to him all the time. He wasn't the problem here.

"Fuck off extra, I don't need to stop for you losers every lap. You're just here freeloading off my success so sit down and shut the fuck up."

Bakugou snatched his helmet and shoved the guy out of his way. Right into another extra dressed in aquamarine. 

The two fell down, knocking over a dresser full of tools on the way. Tools were scattered all across the ground.

Bakugou couldn't be bothered to help.

He took a waterbottle from another extra's hand and took a big sip.

"What the fuck man!'

"My bad ... man ... I'll help clean this up."

"Get the hell out of here, I got it."

"What's going on here?"

Bakugou scowled at the last voice. 

It was Deku. And he had no business coming over to him like this. Every goddamn race. The two were always stationed next to each other meaning every pit stop and start and end of the race Bakugou had to see his rival's annoying face. 

And every chance they were near each other, Deku felt the need to say hello.

Idiot.

"Nothing just fell down."

"Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it. I got this."

"Are you sure cause we can totally help out."

"Don't worry about it, it's our station we'll handle it."

"Get the fuck out of here Deku, you got stuff to do and so do we." Bakugou said.

"You're right, but I only came over for a second. Just to check up on you."

"I'm fine. Now leave. And keep pink cheeks out of here. I don't need her or anyone else distracting my crew, got it?"

"Got it."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make a mess," The short, brown haired, brown eyed girl walked over to him with a pen and paper in hand. "I just wanted to see if I could get an autograph. It's for my nephew, you're his favorite racer and it's his birthday next week so I thought it'd be a nice surprise for him."

Bakugou rolled his eyes before taking the page and getting ready to sign it. It had a crudely drawn image of himself besides a little boy, the girl's nephew he assumed, the both of them holding up a trophy as confetti rained down on them. 

Bakugou froze for a moment.

The picture, though ugly, warmed his heart. He knew he had fans but this drawing just showed that they believed he would win a race. And the fact that he had a fan that probably knew Deku, met with him face to face (there was no way the dumbass didn't like pink cheeks since she was always around him, so he probably went to her house once or twice) and they still picked him over the momentary number one . . . It made him feel good inside. 

Maybe one day he'd have a kid of his own and they could cheer for him too . . . .

He smirked and began to sign.

"What's the extras name?"

"Hiro."

"Tell him he's on the right team." Bakugou gave back the paper. "There you got what you came for now leave."

"Thank you so much. C'mon Deku."

The girl began to drag him away.

"Hold on, Uraraka. Kacchan . . . ?"

Bakugou frowned again. "What now?"

The boy's mouth opened and closed for a bit as he searched for the right words to say.

He held out his hand to him. "Good luck out there today."

Bakugou scoffed and slapped his hand away.

"You'll need the luck more than I do cause I'm gonna beat your ass this time."

Deku smiled a bit as he watched Bakugou walk away. He may not have said it the normal way but at least he'd told him good luck back for once.

Deku turned and walked back to his own car.

***

Notes

McQueen: Bakugou - main character, acts like him and their traits align, need that Life Could be a Dream scene to happen with him

Mater: Kiri - the best friend that will make him realize things, who else could fill thus roll, their energy would match well

Chick Hicks: Todoroki - he's not a hick and personalities don't match but he fits as a well known figure that Bakugou would hate yet want to race, Todo will remain calm and aloof and claim BK is his best friend

Dinoco: Midoriya - BK hates him and would also want to beat him as a racer so of course he's here, could be switched with Chick but since the Dinoco brand was a dominant figure/sponsor in Cars I imagine the brands they race for as the old Pro Hero's and the biggest retiring Pro is All Might and he trains MD so obviously it'd be the same in this universe and so Dinoco's Dad: All Might - for those reason's

Doc Hudson: Aizawa - the mentor figure, he does watch and help BK so I think it's fitting, their personalities and morals seem to align and they both stay away from the cameras so despite Jeanist also being a good choice here, I thought that AZ fits better (Jeanist ended up as BK's current/first sponser)

Sherrif: President Mic - (I was today years old when I realized it's Present Mic not President) since he also helps watch and guide these kids I think he could work this role, using police sirens would make sense considering his quirk, can't separate him and AZ

Army Dude: Shinsou - also one who can't be separated from AZ, not particularly a connection to the character but the Radiator Springs residents kinda seem like they don't like McQueen at first so they'd need to hate BK as well and Shinsou would be good at that, he can also cause some drama by being close with Y/N if so desired

Red: Eri - another who can't be separated from AZ, Red is shy and timid which can be applied to Eri especially since she may be scared upon seeing BK wreck the town as a first introduction, Red listens to Sally's requests which can apply as well

Filmore: Mineta - uhm, why? I honestly don't remember but he may be subject to change, Filmore is kinda another form of comic relief I think and Mineta can be useful to create certain situations, a reason to stir up protectivness in BK, and since Denki will be in here I'd like to put them in shared scenes since I think they're funny together

Guido & Luigi: Sero & Kaminari - need the BakuSquad here and I think it'd be interesting to have these two co-run a store, Guido and Luigi are interested in McQueen at first but then aren't (cause he's not a Ferrari) and Sero and Kaminari seem to have no trouble poking fun at BK so I think it could work

Flo: Ashido - again the BakuSquad, their personalities really seem to match, sassy confident Mina is a must and I think she'd run an amazing dinner, so fun, she would also be one of the only gal-pals for Y/N and vice-versa

Sally: Y/N - MC and love interest, I can make personalities match a bit and BK would need people that question and prod him, lots of liberties here

Granny: Y/N's grandma - honestly who else is this gonna be, loved this lady in Cars and would derive most dialogue and scenes using what was in the movie, could write scenes where Granny is no longer out of pocket and senile and gives serious advice and warnings to BK when they're alone (delivered through one line of dialogue and she's immediately back to appearing crazy as if nothing happened)

I never wrote anything about the flame sticker car Ramone and honestly don't know who could fit as him now, maybe I'll search for suitable characters or write up a specific one if I decide to continue this.

If you'd be interested in reading a story like this, feel free to tell me and I might pick this up again

And if you do want this, also share suggestions for who in mha can fill in for the role of Ramone

[lilac-hecox]

Maybe your interpretation of the one bed trope with amangela?

Angela/Amanda - Amangela - One Bed

--

It’s Vidcon season and everyone has been assigned rooms in the hotel. Angela wasn’t worried because she already knew she’d be paired with Amanda. It makes the most sense and they had paired together the first year at the hotel.

When the whole Smosh cast, leadership team, and the handful of their crew arrive at the hotel it’s Selina that starts handing out room keys. There are people you’d expect. Courtney and Shayne share a room – obviously – and then Ian and Anthony share a room even though Angela knows they had been offered to have single rooms because they are on the leadership team – and because they own the freaking company – and then there is Amanda and Angela.

It's Amanda that takes the keys and passes one to Angela.

It isn’t until Amanda and Angela lug their suitcases up to the room that Angela realizes there’s just one bed.

“Uh,” she says, looking at her key. “Is this a mistake?”

“What? The one bed? I don’t think so. Court told me they are trying to save money this year by having a lot of us share a bed.”

Angela flattens her lips and sets her key down on the desk in the room.

“Save money? Yeah right. I bet Ian and Anthony just said that so it wouldn’t look weird if they shared a room.”

“Honey, money or not, we both know they would have shared a room.”

Angela laughs and then flops down on the bed, spreading out starfish style. Amanda comes to the bed, leaning over it sideways so her face is floating above Angela.

“Do you not want to share a bed with me? Should I be offended? I thought we had fun last year!”

Angela sits up too fast and lucky Amanda pulls back so they don’t knock their foreheads together.

“I did have fun! I do have fun with you!”

It isn’t that Angela doesn’t want to room with Amanda. It’s just…maybe she’s been nursing a not so small crush on Amanda for months now. Sharing a bed with her for a weekend, it isn’t bad, it’s good but that’s the issue, it’s too good.

Amanda ruffles a hand through Angela’s hair.

“Good, we’re going to have fun. I brought my tarot cards again.”

The rest of that day passes quickly. The whole Smosh group in attendance goes out for dinner, not Bucca because they have a history of saving that for the last day of Vidcon, but a place with good food and drinks. Once they finish dinner and head back to the hotel, Angela toes off her shoes and tosses her jacket on to the chair at the desk. She flops into bed and rubs her belly with a sigh.

“I ate too much pasta.”

Amanda calmly takes off her own shoes and then her earrings. Angela watches and there’s something wonderfully and terrifyingly domestic about it all.

“I didn’t think that was possible,” Amanda teases.

Angela raises her middle finger lazily from the bed as Amanda grabs some clothes from her suitcase and then slips into the bathroom to change. As much as Angela doesn’t want to, she also forces herself up and then grabs her own pajamas.

“I’m changing out here!” Angela calls.

“Got it!” Amanda responds, her voice muffled from the closed bathroom door.

Angela quickly changes into a soft T-shirt and a beaten-up pair of shorts. Amanda comes out in a long pair of pajama pants and T-shirt. Her hair is down around her shoulders, and she’s taken off her make-up and though she’s dressed down Angela’s heart still flutters in her chest.

They do have to get up early the next morning for the beginning of all the Vidcon stuff. They have a loose schedule of panels, of socials, of free time to explore, and collaborate with others. Angela knows on Saturday she is due to dress up like Ian and explore the con for a member’s video, but either way, they can’t stay up too late fucking around.

Angela crawls back into bed, feeling weirdly nervous, and a little sick from the excess pasta. Amanda settles down too, tucking her legs under the heavy comforter on the bed. Angela follows suit, sliding under the covers. This isn’t the first time they’ve shared a bed, but the first time they’ve shared a bed for real.

Almost immediately Angela can feel Amanda’s body heat, cozy and warm under the cocoon of the blankets. She looks more angelic than she should with her head back on the pillows, dark hair like a halo around her head. Angela wants to scream.

“Ang?” Amanda says.

“Huh?” Angela says, suddenly pulled back into the here and now.

Amanda smiles brightly and affectionately. “Where’d you go, honey?”

Angela feels a heat on her face.” I was thinking.”

“About?”

“Work,” Angela lies.

Amanda tsks softly, “You’re such a workaholic, Ang.”

It’s true and Angela giggles nervously and nods. “I gotta work on it.”

Their conversation dies off as Amanda plays on her phone and Angela mindlessly scrolls on Instagram. Before too long, it’s time to go to bed. Angela lays there in the dark, hearing Amanda’s soft breathing, the gentle way she shifts as if she doesn’t want to disturb Angela.

It’s Amanda’s rhythmic breathing that lulls Angela to sleep. She sleeps and it’s sometime in the night, the sky and room are still dark when Angela wakes. She isn’t sure what has woken her up, but she’s awake, and she’s more than ready to go back to sleep except she realizes that her face is warm. Her face is warm because her cheek is against Amanda’s back.

Angela should move away. She should get back on her own side of the hotel bed. She doesn’t even know how she wound up pressed against Amanda, with her arm looped loosely around Amanda’s waist. It’s hazy, warm, and comfortable. She’s pressed almost completely against Amanda with Angela’s front to Amanda’s back.

As Angela breathes, Amanda’s hair that’s fanned around her face shifts and tickles her cheek. Angela can smell the sweet shampoo and lingering perfume that Amanda uses. She wants to sink into the scent, wants to stay right here. She can’t stop herself from squeezing Amanda around the middle.

Amanda hums sleepily.

Angela aches for this to be real, for Amanda to be hers, to always fall asleep this way, wrapped around Amanda, warm and close, burying her face in Amanda’s hair and hearing all those small and sleepy sounds from the other woman.

It’s not her life though and none of this belongs to her. It’s creepy that she’s even holding Amanda the way she is now. If Amanda were awake and Amanda knew, surely…she wouldn’t want it, would she? Or she’d be weirded out? Amanda is touchy but this is beyond even that in Angela’s mind.

Angela sighs softly, feeling Amanda’s hair ruffle with her breath.

It takes all that Angela has to force herself to release Amanda, to force herself to turn away, rolling on her side and inching away so that she and Amanda are no longer touching. The hotel bed is much colder now and Angela feels lonely even though Amanda is in the same bed as her.

[holllandtrash]

better late than never | lando norris, pierre gasly

pairing: lando norris x reader, pierre gasly x reader part 3 to better left unsaid (the better series)

the first race weekend after the break is filled with drama, tension and words that you all wished could be taken back, and you're not even referring to what happened on the track

word count: 5.1k tags: angst lmao also more social media stuff

“What if you just quit your job?” Pierre asked. You told yourself he was only joking, but when you glanced away from the computer screen to look at your propped up phone and his charming eyes on facetime, you knew he wasn’t joking.

“I’m not throwing away six years of post secondary education and thousands of dollars of tuition because you’re batting your pretty little eyes at me,” you looked back at the computer screen that held the blueprints for an upcoming gallery exhibit. As an assistant curator at an art gallery, you had a lot on your plate and you had a dozen things to catch up on before your next trip out of the city.

“You think my eyes are pretty?”

Of course that was the only part he heard. 

“Pierre I can't-” you cut yourself off when someone in the background called Pierre’s name. It took a second but you recognized the female voice as one of the student engineers at Alpine. You waited until Pierre and her finished their quick conversation and he turned back to you.

Pierre smirked at how your expression dropped. Even when you forced yourself to focus on your computer screen, those forehead lines could be spotted through the bad quality facetime call.

“Ma chérie, don’t tell me you’re jealous because I’m talking to another girl,” Pierre laughed. You had half a mind to hang up on him.

If you were being honest, the female voice did speed up your heart rate a bit until you figured out who it was. Pierre was somewhere in a hotel, you weren’t sure where because his face took up most of the screen, but you knew he wasn’t alone. 

And you didn’t have a right to be jealous either. You and Pierre still weren’t an item, despite what the rumour mill was saying. 

You just talked everyday and he sent you flowers to your place of work and he bought your next plane ticket for you to watch the race and you were constantly thinking about how nice it would be to wake up beside him. 

For fuck sakes, you liked him. 

A lot.

In a matter of weeks you had fallen for him. And he hadn’t even kissed you yet. There were a few times when it came close, but the moment was never right. You weren’t going to rush into anything either, especially not with Lando being an ever lingering thought in the back of your mind that you couldn’t seem to get rid of.

“I’m not the jealous type,” you told him. Lies. You liked when his eyes were on you and only you. You liked how he had treated you during the break. You couldn’t get enough of it.

Pierre didn’t seem to believe you, but he changed the topic regardless, “Did you watch qualifying today?”

“P7 baby,” you grinned, hitting send on the last email before calling it a night. “Alpine’s kicking ass in the midfield.”

“So you’ll be watching the race tomorrow?” 

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good,” Pierre liked knowing you’d be rooting for him. “I wish you were here now, though.”

With yours and Pierre’s relationship, or whatever you wanted to call it, starting at the beginning of the summer break, you had yet to accompany him during a race weekend. 

That would change next weekend. You were set to attend the Monza Grand Prix. 

And for the first time, you wouldn’t be hanging out in the McLaren garage. Pierre had to pull some strings to ensure you’d be allowed access, but once he made it clear that you didn’t have any affiliation to the papaya team, he sent you the paddock pass and flight information.

Pierre really wanted you with him that weekend. He had won in Monza before, he considered it one of his lucky tracks. Plus Italy was like a second home to him, he wanted everything to be perfect and your presence was a crucial part of that.

You weren’t sure if you were ready for the fans to share their opinions online. Lando had a huge following, and because of that, most of his fans knew who you were. You could only imagine what people would be saying when you were spotted in the Alpine garage for a change.

It shouldn’t have bothered you, but you weren’t as strong as you wanted to be.

“Chérie,” Pierre’s voice had the ability to calm your nerves, even if it was just temporary. “If you’re having second thoughts about Monza, please let me know.”

It was insane how well he knew you. In a few short weeks, Pierre was able to recognize even the slightest change in your mannerisms when something was bothering you. He was observant and it showed.

“No,” you assured him, or maybe you were assuring yourself. “No, I want to be there with you.”

He believed you, why wouldn’t he? These last few weeks with him were otherworldly to say the least. You wanted to keep this going for as long as possible. Pierre left you feeling hopeful and optimistic and after the fallout with Lando, you needed that. 

Pierre couldn’t replace Lando, not like you wanted him to, but you knew you had room in your heart for that French driver.

And you were going to see things through.

———————

pre-race press conference

The pizza had just been delivered. You poured yourself a rum and coke. You had on booty shorts and one of Pierre’s Alpine jumpers and you were ready to watch the race. 

What you weren’t ready for, was a knock at your door.

“Who the fuck…” It was a Sunday, you weren’t expecting anyone. You put your drink down and headed over to the front door. You rented the bottom half of a house, it wasn’t ideal but the private entryway was nice. 

You pulled the door open and was quite literally taken aback to see Max standing there. A case of beer in his hands as he sported a Quadrant sweater.

“Hi,” you said, hearing Will Buxton's voice coming from your speakers. It was only a few minutes until lights out. 

“Want some company?” Max asked. 

You missed him, there was no doubt about that. He had been so intertwined with Lando’s life these last few weeks that you genuinely thought he forgot about you after your phone call. You didn’t even see him in Monaco until you stopped by Lando’s place. 

You weren’t going to question why he was in London. He, like you, was always flying back and forth. At least he had the decency to reach out this time. 

“Always,” you stepped aside, making room for him to come in. 

Max didn’t comment on your apparel. He also didn’t comment on the state of your place which was always in slight ruins. You had been travelling so much and when you were in the city, most of your time was spent at work and you just could not be arsed to hang your jackets up when you got home, or put your shoes away properly. 

It was a little awkward when Max sat down. Not because he wasn’t comfortable in your home, he had been there dozens upon dozens of times before. But because you hadn’t spoken in weeks.

And now here he was with a case of beer acting as an olive branch. You were both hoping it would work, honestly. You didn’t want to have to rely on Lando to be the glue in your friendship. He didn’t own Max. 

“How’s Pierre?” Max asked, eyes glued to the screen.

You laughed, reaching for a slice of pizza and sliding the box across the coffee table for him to grab one. “We’re not dating, Max.”

“Kind of seems like it,” Max chuckled as well. You shot him a look, one that basically said shut up and he held his hand up in defence. “I’m just saying, Y/N, he seems to make you happy. It’s not a bad thing. You deserve to be happy.”

“Thanks,” you smiled as he opened up one of the cans he brought but the second it started foaming over the sides, he jumped up in a panic. You covered your mouth with your hand to keep from laughing at his mess and he just stared at you with wide eyes.

“For Christ sakes women, get a towel!” He tried to drink what he could but excess liquid was streaming down his chin.

You held your hand out towards the screen, “The race is about to start! I’m not cleaning up your mess!” 

“I’m using the pillow as a towel then,” Max scoffed, wiping his hand on his jeans and grabbing one of the round pillows from the other couch. He did what he could to clean up the spill with the pillow, but your attention was on the screen. You could help him later.

The second the five lights went out, the drivers were off. You held your breath as the twenty cars fought to be the first to make it to that first corner, but all in all it was a pretty clean start. Pierre gained a place. Lando lost one. They were currently P6 and P5.

Why were you even watching the McLaren?  

Don’t kid yourself, you still cared.

You cleared your throat, “How’s Lando?”

Max seemed surprised that you asked. So much so that he paused to make sure he actually heard you correctly, “Yeah he’s good.”

“Is he?” The question slipped out. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe Max was telling the truth but you just knew there was more to it. Lando was never just good. And especially after your last conversation…part of you knew he was struggling as much as you were, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

‘See you around then, maybe.’ He said. He could have just said goodbye. He could have just stayed quiet. 

Max sighed. It wasn’t a good sigh, but he kept his eyes on the race. Probably for the better. If you saw the hurt he was feeling for his friend, it would have broken you.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” Max asked. The air in the room suddenly felt heavy. You weren’t hot a minute ago but your mouth was dry now and your hands were clamming up. “He’s been better, that’s for damn sure. I know he regrets what he said to you and I also know he hates seeing you with Gasly. He nearly breaks his phone every time a photo of you two pops up.”

“So why hasn’t he reached out?” You weren’t under the impression Lando regretted anything. He might have missed you, but he seemed to stick by his words, as did you. 

Max turned it around on you, “Why haven’t you reached out?” 

“It’s not on me to fix anything.” your voice trembled. Focus on the race. Pierre was doing good. He defended one of the Aston Martin’s seamlessly. He was catching up to Lando. “Plus I-”

Nope, you didn’t need to say it. You shook your head, shoving the last bit of crust into your mouth. 

“You still love him?” 

And then you were choking on said crust. Max swore under his breath and grabbed your drink for you, encouraging you to take a sip and clear your airways. Water would have been better but maybe chugging the rum and coke would make this conversation a little easier.

You dabbed the corner of your eye, “No Max I don’t,” you inhaled a heavy breath, “I mean, it’s hard to say, okay? Part of me will always love Lando, but I need it to be a different type of love. I need to be content with knowing that him and I will never happen, that we were never supposed to happen. I want to be able to look at him and be his friend but not have it hurt and I just- I don’t know how I’ll ever get to that point.”

Max nodded. You could tell he was trying to understand but you were feeling way too many emotions at once and spilling that beer on his Quadrant hoodie was probably the most traumatic thing he’s had to deal with in the last month.

“So do you want him to reach out or not?” Max asked after a few minutes.

You slumped further into the corner of the couch, “I really don’t know.”

The two of you could have dived deeper into this topic. There was no one better to bounce your thoughts off of than Max. He knew you, he knew Lando. He wouldn’t purposely steer you in the wrong direction and secretly, he was rooting for the two of you to make up. 

But the race suddenly got interesting. 

You both saw it. Your eyes were glued to the tv throughout your conversation and while the multitasking had worked, now the only thing that mattered were the drivers.

It was only lap 10 of 72, but Lando braked early going into turn 13. Too early, like he knew Pierre’s Alpine was within DRS range behind him and wanted to purposely fuck with him before the start/finish straight. 

Pierre usually had better reflexes. But Lando shouldn’t have braked when he did. 

The front wing jammed into the back of the McLaren, sending both cars off the track. Lando’s tyres locked up and he spun out but Pierre went directly into the barrier. The cars behind them managed to avoid it, but there was no salvaging the damage on either car. Pierre would have to retire and the hit from the Alpine caused a sudden hydraulics issue in the McLaren.

They were lucky, honestly, it could have been a lot worse. 

But you didn’t give a shit about the cars. You were watching the drama unfold on screen as a red flag was announced to pull both cars off the track. 

Pierre climbed out of the car first. A marshall tried to usher him towards one of the exit holes in the gate, but he turned his attention to Lando who was also being escorted by a marshall. 

Pierre pointed his finger at Lando. The cameras couldn’t pick up what they were saying but you knew it wasn’t friendly. Not by the way the marshall had now positioned himself in between the two drivers.

“He did it on purpose,” Max voiced what everyone and their dog was thinking. 

“He wouldn’t,” you wanted to believe that Lando just made a mistake. “No, he wouldn’t sacrifice a race like this. Not to be petty.”

Max could argue that in a second. He had seen first hand how livid and unbearable Lando had become recently. He wouldn’t put it past his friend to pull a dirty move like this. 

The camera followed the drivers getting into the separate golf carts as they were driven back to the pit lane. From body language alone you could tell how frustrated Pierre was. This wasn’t his own error that caused him to retire, it was all on Lando. There was no doubt about it.

Somewhere along the lines you had reached across the couch to grab Max’s arm. The anticipation killed both of you as you watched in silence. You didn’t know if one of the drivers would approach the other in the pit lane but you were praying they would stay in their own garages.

“I told you,” Max whispered. “Lando hates that you’re with Pierre.”

“Lando’s an idiot for screwing up his own race because of some childish jealousy,” you said through clenched teeth. 

The screen was only showing Pierre now as he pulled his helmet off to speak to his engineers in the garage. His usually charismatic and inviting features were cold and hardened as he vented for anyone to hear. You wished the camera was able to pick up on what he was saying but it was for the better that it couldn’t. 

He wasn’t injured, thank god. That was always a fear you had when you watched collisions. But now there was a new fear. 

The media was going to have a field day over this. And because you weren’t necessarily private about hanging out with Pierre after having such a public friendship with Lando, you knew that one way or another, you’d be dragged into this.

“I have to call him,” you said, more to yourself than to Max, but he nodded in encouragement. “Before this blows up, I have to talk to him.”

"Him, who?" Max asked, wanting clarification. There were two drivers involved in that accident. Two drivers that had taken up two very different spots in your heart.

You grabbed your phone from the coffee table and your mind turned on autopilot, calling the one driver that you knew you had to speak to first.

“Don’t say anything,” Amelia, Lando’s PR assistant, instructed. “Not to the media, not online, no public statements until we sort this out, do you understand?” 

Lando nodded and Amelia waited until she got verbal confirmation that he wouldn’t turn this into a bigger mess before leaving the drivers room.

“Yes, don’t worry,” he huffed out. “Lips are sealed.”

“God you make my life difficult,” Amelia pulled out her phone and walked back into the motorhome, shutting his door with more force than necessary. 

Lando changed out of his fireproofs, knowing he wouldn’t need them to watch the rest of the race. He slid on a McLaren polo t and a pair of black joggers. He combed his fingers through his hair and grabbed his phone off the table. He didn’t usually look at his phone much during race days, but he was dying to know what people were saying, what sort of assumptions were being thrown around. 

He had just opened twitter when your name showed up on his phone screen. The image being one of the two of you a few years back. He remembered setting it as your contact photo even though you hated how your side profile looked. 

Lando wasn’t sure if this was a mistake or not. He had retired early from races before and if you weren’t watching in the paddock, you wouldn’t call him until the race completed, giving him the time he always needed to cool off or collect himself. 

But you were calling him now.

Lando slid his finger across the screen and brought the phone up to his ear. He didn’t even get a word in, not like he would act as this was a normal conversation anyway. You were calling because Pierre was involved. Hell you probably already called him first and talking to Lando was just additional damage control.

“What the fuck, Lando?” 

He missed your voice. He didn’t miss you scolding him.

“Y/N I-”

“Tell me it wasn’t on purpose,” you demanded. He could hear it in your voice, the shakiness of your breath, the false confidence. You were mad at him, but up until recently, you were never one to paint him as the bad guy so this was completely new territory for you. 

Lando sat down on the edge of the couch, foot tapping against the floor, “I didn’t intend to ruin both our races.”

That wasn’t the answer you were looking for and all you could do was sigh in defeat.

But that single breath into the receiver made Lando regret every single wrong action he had ever done. It didn’t matter that you weren’t in the same room, that one goddamn breath ringing in his ear had a way of hitting Lando the way no words ever could. 

It reminded him of when you two were twelve and you spent a week at his place with his family and he yelled at you when you tried on one of his karting helmets. You didn’t mean anything by it, you just wanted to see if it fit. Lando yanked it off your head and lost it on you, telling you to never touch it again. 

Your eyes welled up immediately. You didn’t even apologise, you couldn’t. You just inhaled and exhaled the heaviest breath your twelve year old lungs could handle and Lando knew he crossed a line more than you had. You shouldn’t have touched his helmet but he shouldn’t have raised his voice. He spent the rest of the day making sure you didn’t hold it against him. He didn’t want to hurt your feelings, he never wanted to hurt your feelings.

And in these last few weeks, that’s all he’s done. 

Pulling that one reckless move on the track didn’t just risk hurting Pierre. Lando knew how much Pierre meant to you, for some fucking reason, and he knew that you’d be watching. He knew that move would hurt you. 

“You braked early on purpose,” it wasn’t a question. Your assumptions were correct. You just needed to hear it.

“I wanted to get him off my tail,” Lando tried to defend his choices but he didn’t sound the least bit convincing. But that’s what he did when he felt as though he was backed into a corner, even if he was in the wrong, he always tried to talk himself out of whatever mess he made. “Gasly’s reaction times are off the charts, Y/N I just thought I’d mess him up a little. I didn’t think he'd crash into me.”

“God you are so full of yourself,” you spat out. “Lando, we haven't talked in weeks. I’ve been happy hanging out with Pierre, I’ve left you alone like you wanted and you go and pull this shit?”

Lando instantly became defensive, he had to. “Oh I’m full of myself? Why are you assuming this had anything to do with you?”

“I- because-” you stammered. “Lando, come on. You and Pierre have never had issues on track before.”

“He’s been getting on my nerves lately.”

“Since when do you bring your outside problems into the car with you?” You asked. 

“He’s been getting on my nerves all weekend, Y/N,” Lando clarified. Why did he feel the need to explain himself? 

Maybe because this was the longest you had spoken in weeks and even if you were arguing, he’d rather keep you on the phone and listen to you snap at him than hang up and not know when he’d hear from you next.

You paused, “What do you mean?”

“He’s been dragging my name through the mud since the press conference, did you not watch it?”

You had been at work during the press conferences, plus they weren’t always entertaining so no, you had missed it. 

“Subtle jabs here and there,” Lando went on further. “He thinks because you’re his now-”

“I’m not his,” you were quick to interject. You weren’t some piece of property that the guys would fight over. You were a goddamn human being and you didn’t ask for this mess. “I also was never yours.”

That shut Lando up. It was a harsh slap to the face. The painful reality he had to accept but didn’t want to because you should have been his. 

He should have worked harder to keep you in his life.

He should have realised how important you were to him before letting you slip through his fingers. 

It shouldn’t have taken him seeing you with Pierre to know that he needed you.

“I know,” Lando couldn’t argue with you. You were never his. “I didn’t mean it like-” God this was harder than it should have been. “It’s just- you care about Pierre now, is all.”

You hesitated. Lando wouldn’t have been surprised if you hung up. This conversation didn’t seem to be going anywhere. 

And then your voice dropped to a whisper, like you were even debating letting the next words out of your mouth, knowing they would only add fuel to this fire. 

“That doesn’t mean I stopped caring about you.”

Lando froze. Quite literally. His legs went numb, thank god he was sitting down. He counted each individual breath you took and he was asking himself why you weren’t there with him, to say this in person. He could only imagine what you were like right now.

He had no idea that you were curled up on the couch, fingers trembling as you held the phone to your ear. He had no clue that Max was staring at you, mouth agape as you said the words that could have single handedly fixed what went wrong. Lando didn’t know that you called him first and that Pierre would just have to wait to hear your voice. 

You continued, “Lando we both said some hurtful things, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. You’re-” you chuckled and Lando instantly felt a weight lift from his shoulders. When was the last time he heard your laugh? “It’s not easy to throw away fifteen plus years of friendship, you idiot.”

“I guess that’s true,” he agreed, a smile forming on his own lips. Things weren’t permanently broken between you. There was damage, but it wasn’t a shattered mirror. You could put the pieces back together and not have the remnants of the incident ruin your relationship moving forward. 

“I think space is needed, though” you then said. Lando’s heart sank a little further into his chest. “I don’t want to be reliant on you anymore, Lando. For so long, you were all I cared about and I can’t keep living like that.”

You needed the time to get over him. 

Lando understood what you were trying to say. You didn’t want to love him anymore. You wanted a clean slate of friendship, something that wouldn’t keep you up at night, haunting your thoughts with all the what-if’s. 

He could wait. 

He had no choice, essentially. 

You weren’t ready to let him go and he was going to do whatever he could to get you back in his life. These last few weeks were hard enough with you. He didn’t want to go the next few years without you at his side. 

“Y/N I-” Lando paused, taking his lower lip between his teeth. He’d been holding onto that night in the club for so long, he had to let it go. “I’m sorry.”

If he could see you right now, he’d probably laugh at the way your forehead wrinkled as your eyebrows pinched together. 

“For the braking?”

“For everything I said,” he ran his fingers through his hair. It would be so much easier if you two were in the same room. “For making you feel as though I was paying for your friendship. For cancelling your flights. For being a shitty person, you didn’t deserve any of it. Especially knowing how you feel- how you felt, I mean. I made everything worse and I'm sorry.”

This time when you let out a breath into the receiver, it sounded more hopeful, if that was even possible. It sounded like the type of breath you’d take before rolling your eyes at him. 

“You couldn’t have apologised the morning after?” You asked. Your tone was finally starting to lighten up. “It took you causing an accident during a race to realise you fucked things up between us?”

“I’m an idiot.”

“I know.”

You were both silent. Lando didn’t want to hang up first. He wanted to keep you on the phone for the rest of the day. 

But he knew he couldn’t. His team was waiting for him in the garage. There was still a race going on. He had to sit and watch and think about his mistakes. He should probably apologise to Pierre. 

“Are we okay?” Lando asked. 

“We will be.”

You didn’t hesitate, but it wasn’t the answer Lando was hoping for. He had to be patient.

“I’ll talk to you soon,” he said.

You knew he meant it.

When you hung up, Max was waiting on the opposite end of the couch for an explanation. He only caught bits and pieces of what Lando said and he couldn’t piece together anything.

“He apologised,” you said. 

The smile that spread across Max’s face was photo-worthy. He’d been waiting to hear that. He’d been telling Lando to say sorry since you ran out of the club with Pierre.

“Thank god!” Max fist bumped the air. “Does that mean we can finally all hang out again? I love Lando, I just can’t deal with him alone. He-”

“Woah, okay, slow down,” you felt bad, but you couldn’t let Max get ahead of himself. “I still need time. I can’t just hang out with him and pretend I never loved him, I need to be in a place where I’m content with just being his friend.”

Max’s face dropped, “How long is that going to take.”

You shrugged. You didn’t have an answer. All you knew was that things were going to be okay. You didn’t lose Lando like you thought you had. He was still there and he would continue to be there, waiting for you to return to his life when you were ready. When you could look at him and not see the face of the man you loved. 

You then thought about what Lando said about Pierre’s comments during the press conference. 

“Hey, what did Pierre say to the media?” You asked. “Did you watch the press conference?”

Max’s face said it all. He inhaled a sharp breath through clenched teeth and you regretted asking the question. 

“It wasn’t what he said, it was how he said it,” Max clarified. “He talked about the competition between himself and Lando, but the underlying tone…you could tell it wasn’t just about the points or the driver standings. Pierre was referring to you. As if you were the prize.”

That wasn’t the least bit flattering, but you made a mental note to search up the clip after the race. 

At that same moment, Pierre’s face showed up in a split screen on the tv. You couldn’t put into words how mad he was that his race was over as he sat in the garage, watching the other drivers continue on without him. You knew he had a few choice words for Lando and honestly, you couldn’t blame him.

You had to talk to Pierre, about the incident, about what Lando said, about where you two stood. But after your conversation with Lando, you decided that Pierre could wait. 

You were leaving for Monza on Friday anyways, which was a good thing. You were going to need those extra days to prepare for what was to come.

part 4 here read all parts here

[subliminalbo]

Okay, elephant in the room? I was an Alpha.

Right now you're thinking "this stupid, little, blonde bimbo is soooo addicted to serving that she went out and got herself brainwashed again." But this is just research, honest! Corbin says that research is the most important part of journalism. You can't write about mindless whores without becoming one yourself!

I was basically already Corbin Arroyo's biggest fan when she joined us in the Alphas house. It was pretty crowded by that point, but I managed to get a turn on her during the conditioning. I can still taste her on my lips, still hear her whimper when my tongue glided over her clit. And I remember how powerful I felt driving my idol to such a point of pure ecstasy that she totally lost her mind—with the help of the visor over her eyes, of course. God, I still get so hot just thinking about it.

But, uh, maaaybe don't mention all that to her? I don't want her to think I'm like some crazy fan or something.

The point is that Corbin and I have been through a lot together. The kind of stuff that bonds people together for life. Like, finding a dead body in the woods. You can't talk about that to everybody.

So I'm working for her now. Or I will be, once I prove myself with a big scoop.

Corbin's been playing it cool. She says stuff like, "I'm not looking for a partner right now" and "please stop texting me." (She's so funny!) I thought tracking her number down would be enough to convince her, but she's really testing me. I needed something big.

Everyone knows River City is filthy with corruption and vice. I figured that if I hung around the motel district long enough I'd stumble upon some kind of scandal to write about, so I checked into the Gilead Hotel. It seemed as good a place as any to do my research. Don't let the fancy name fool you, it's a total dump. I got a good deal on the room though, must have been the cute girl rate.

"Say," I said to the kid with the splotchy beard at the front desk. "Where can a girl find some work around here?"

"Work?" he repeated in a low, quavering sort of voice. "Like...work work?"

"What other kind of work is there?" I giggled.

The poor kid seemed conflicted when he paid me his $250. It was probably a whole paycheck for him, but I wasn't going to discount myself for his sake. I blew him in the break room. It was a little space with wood paneling and crusty green carpet that scraped against my knees. The folding chair creaked beneath him as I rolled my tongue over the head of his cock.

I didn't have much of a taste for this kind of thing before I was an Alpha, but blowjobs were a skill that Madison considered as essential as eating pussy. I put my Alpha training to good use, teasing him with my tongue until he whimpered like Corbin, then I slurped down his shaft in slow, deep gulps, increasing my speed with each repetition. I took him the rest of the way with my hand and finished him off in my mouth, swallowing every drop of his warm cum with a dopey little smile.

"Fu-ck," his voice cracked.

I was so horny when we were finished that I would have let him fuck me, but that was another $750, and I was seriously worried that he would dip into the till. There were more johns in River City with deeper pockets anyway.

Shit, this is bad journalism, isn't it? You want to know how I got brainwashed again to begin with. To be honest, that part's a little fuzzy. I remember I was prowling campus for my big scoop when I met this stranger. Suddenly, I'm handcuffed in some dark room and the stranger's saying, "You are a mindless whore," and I'm like, "No, I'm Tabbie!" But after a few thousand times I started to agree with him.

"I am a mindless whore."

It wasn't a difficult transition for me. Sometimes I miss having a mistress like Madison, but I can hear the power in my Master's voice. I've never seen his face. He sets me up with johns over the phone. I sit around my room at the Gilead Hotel (I never left!) watching TV and waiting for him to call. When the phone rings, my mind goes all fuzzy again and all I can think about are big, fat cocks in my cute, wet pussy.

Master has a few more girls with their own rooms at the hotel and on days off we lounge around the pool and talk about being mindless whores and sucking cocks and stuff.

Research! I mean, I can't remember any of the johns' faces and my Master is so clever I'll never catch him, but I do get to wear cute outfits and be a total slut which was just me most days already. Corbin will save me eventually anyway, so I'm enjoying it while I can.

Oh my god. Maybe Master will make Corbin into a cute mindless whore too!

[mikalame]

Heyyy could I request Tom with a reader who works for the band (books hotels, helps with set up, etc?) so shes always going on tour with them and he’s had the biggest crush on her for ages. Queue the boys making gestures and teasing him, maybe one of them accidentally tells reader that he likes her after they’ve been drinking?

Idk whether Tom would admit it or get embarrassed and pissy but I’ll leave it up to you 😭 feel free to make your own plot up if you prefer!! I have a hard time using my imagination 😬

Thx!! <3

taglist:@oppopotamus@adissonsss@saumspam@violentnewmarley

You had been spending the last few minutes organising the roster for the bands next tour, being deep in thought just clicking and putting the name of songs in time slots.

Once you finished wrapping up the Europe tour you were about to work on the next one when your hear heavily footsteps and giggles coming from the hallway.

Thinking it was just the band doing band stuff and mucking around before heading back onto the road you didnt think much of it just continuing your work.

Tom's pov

"Oooo, ___ in the room, you gonna go up to her and give her a big smooch on the lips" Georg teases pouting his lips, "Fuck off Georg" Tom groans he had been putting up with this teasing since yesterday when tom stuttered when talking to ___.

"Awww is little tommy embarrassed awww" Gustav cooed joining in with the teasing giggling as they stick around the corridor laughing more as tom tries to pull them away.

"What are you embarrassed about Tom" A voice comes from the room tom was dreading "Oh um nothing ___" Tom's vooice shakes, thinking this is like all conversations between the two and wanting to tease abit more bill deciceds to help his brother.

"We were just talking about a little party were going to later tonight, would you like to come" Bill smiles sweetly, Tom whipping his head to the side to look at bill with a 'what the hell' exspression, Georg and Gustav both look at eachother then bill all three of their faces grinning like madmen.

"Oh um are you sure, i would love to" You say adjusting the files in your hand, "No you should definatly come totally" The boys reasure you talking about the time they will come to your hotel door and what not.

"Why the hell would you do that huh, did you have to invite her" Tom mutters quietly as they walk away hiding his face in his hands cheeks flared red.

Even though he said it quitely the girl around the corner still heard what he said now thinking it was some kind of prank she wasnt sure if she wanted to go, exspecally if the guy she was going for didnt even want her their.

Time Skip

"I'll wait right here- or i'll just meet you at the club" tom says turning quick to walk away from the girls room that the others were pulling him closer to.

"No Tom man-up, i cant belive The Tom is acting so shy, huh, not so brave now" Georg snickers behind his hand earning a smack from bill as he knocks on the girls door.

"oi shut up- Hey ___ we're here, open up" He yells knocking some more beofre hearing the lock unlock and the door handle jimmy.

Your Pov

___ stepped out, her nereves all over the place, feeling the sweat form on her palm quickly wiping it away on the bottom of her skirt.

She hasent went out since working for Tokio Hotel even though they seem to go out everynight its mostly the boys and mabey the manager if its a special occation.

"Sorry if this isnt really club attire, had to dig this out of my suitcase" she giggles nervously adjusting the length of the skirt. "No girl you look amazing, right tom" Bill questions walking to the elevator cocking his eyebrow to his brother.

"Huh oh yeah, can we go" He answers looking away clearing his throat before walking making sure ___ was infront of him to he culd watch her as she walked as not to get caught by her.

Tom looks over to his left and sees Georg doing the fake makeout thing rubing his hands over his waist and fr a split second thrusting his hips up beofre walking back normaly.

hereing the giggles and having them walk behind her is making ___ more nervous thinking that mabey tom i even critisising her or making fun of her outfit, but she decides not to let it get to her like it normaly would she thinks of mabey finding someone to talk to during the night..... and mabey talk to tom.

At the club

After begs from the boys to talk to ___ he takes a couple of deep breaths andshaking his hands he walks up to the bar where she is standing oldering her drink trying to under stand what the man is saying over the loud club music.

After a couple minutes of trying to order a drink you think about giving up on it and getting one of the boys to do it thinking that they would be better as their used to the sort of stuff, until you hear a falillar raspy voice shout behind you.

"SHE WANTS A _____ ____" Tom yells not really knowing what else to say, the man behind the counter nods finally understanding what she wanted, walking away to go make it the two stand there awkwardly.

Tom has no idea whats going on his nerves everwhere, this being unmarked terriory for him even though he is usally the best at this sorta stuff.

And ___ freaking out because he crush is right their standing next to her, even though she seems him everyday its diffrent its not in the professional way this is more of a 'hang out' way, panicing from the situation she trys to find a way out.

"OMG TOM I LOVE YOU" a girls voice screeches over the music, the two look over and tom gets pulled into the crowd of people a girl with blond hair and short dress rubs her hands up and down his arms complimenting him on everthing.

With that distraction she grabs her drink and speed walks over to the table where the rest of the band is sitting all straight backs and seeming to look for someone until they see you they slouch back trying to look non suspitious and justcausslaly sipping from their cups.

After sitrting down a weird mood washed over the group, ___ already nerous about they whole thing start really sweating quickly adjusting her jacketr to make sure they dont see her sweating to badly even though they could probably see the sweat on her forehead.

Bill even though they had only been here for a couple hours is blackout drunk and swaying in his seat blabbering about what ever pops into is mind lifting the mood a bit until he siad somthing he wasnt supposed to.

"So wheres tom huh" cocking his eyebrow again looking at the girl, "Oh last i saw him he was getting felt up by some girl" looking back down at her drink quitely sipping it.

"He probably wished it was you" Bill says slapping his hand over his mouth shook about what he said, the rest of the group looking at him wide eyed and jaws dropped exspecaly the girl who is shocked by what he boy just said.

With the air still heavily from what was just said and bill being to scared to say anything else the group is quite until a sertin dread head comes tumbling into the table.

"Omg, i could NOT get away from them damn" he huffs wiping the 'dust' off of himself beofre looking back at the group whos eyes quickly look down or at eachother.

Looking at bill with a questioning look wondering what happened bill spills.

"I told her"

Tom knowing what that meant whipped his head over at the girl who's eyes that were previously on him now looking everywhere but him, then looking at the G's who do the same as the girl.

Tom stands up shaking the table a bit, leans over grabbing the girls arm before dragging her with him outside to talk without the music blaringing into their ears.

"So um- you know-" "I like you" she blurts out the alchol kicking in now knowing why they call it liquid courge "You do" he repets making sure he did hear that and tht he was correct "Yeah, um from what bill said it kinda sounds like you like me to?" she questions slowly sobering up by the second now wanting to get out of there.

Tom's breathing gets heavy as he contemplates if he is actually going to do this. He is.

"Yeah i do- um ive liked you for a couple of months now" tom swallows the saliva that is coating his mouth right now, clenching his hands trying to get rid of the sweat.

The air between the too is quite and still seeming like all other noise around them is silent even though the club is still blaring their music and people filling the club walking in and out.

Locking eyes with eachother both of their eyes flick between the others lips then back to their eyes being enough to signal what they both want before lock their lips with eachothers.

Holding her breath in her lungs scared that if she breathes to heavy this all might dissapear and she will wake up from the dream come true, she deepens the kiss to really make sure it happening and once truly convincing herself it is they both pull back catching the breath she didnt know she needed.

A airy breath comes from tom whos cheeks are flushed and hand rubbing the back of his neck beofre his face changes to an annoyed eyerolll.

Thinking somthing bad is behind them she turns seeing bill lauging gustav looking super happy running up to tease tom more upclose and Georg doing the fake make out thing again bfore turning back embarrased when he sees hes been caught.

SORRY IDK HOW TO END IT, hope you all enjoy and like.

[shelbystales]

Best Aid - Part Seven

Modern Tommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist

Previous parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

Summary: you are a young doctor in Birmingham. After a crazy incident, Thomas Shelby shows up at your hospital. You don’t know much about the man everyone seems to fear, but you definitely will.

Warning: swearing, mention of torture and panick attack

A/N:  Comment and interact, tell me what you think! it means a looot.

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"Hey, you good?" Jeremy asked, easing into the break room for hospital staff.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" you replied, not looking up from the trauma textbook you were reading.

He pulled up a chair and sat down beside you. "You think it was him?" he asked in a hushed tone, as if it were some kind of top-secret stuff.

"Can we not go there, please?" you requested, turning the page of your book.

"Come on, seriously?" He paused, waiting for a response, but you stayed tight-lipped. "Y/n, seriously, what's going on? You usually spill the beans about everything, even your weirdest quirks. Even when you were peeing green for fucks sake. Youre making me worry here. Did he do something to you? Hurt you?" he asked, his voice all business, a tone he rarely used with you.

"No," you shook your head, "he didn't do anything to me," you replied calmly and took a deep breath. "Not directly."

"What does that mean?" He frowned.

You sighed deeply and told him everything about the apartment, the bomb. It felt good to get this off your chest. As you spoke, it was as though weights were being lifted off your shoulders one by one.

When you finished, Jeremy gave you a tight hug, and before you knew it, you were tearing up. These last few days, living in fear, with so much anxiety, had been consuming you. Being able to share and be comforted by someone was all you needed.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked. "Are you going to stay at his aunt's hotel for how long?"

"I don't know," you shrugged, moving away from the hug and wiping your tears.

"You can come to my place," he offered.

"Are you crazy? I'm not putting you and your fiancé at risk," you said.

"Okay, but if you need anything, I'm here," he said

"Thank you, Jer. I needed this," you smiled as Jeremy left, allowing you to focus on your studies.

Later, you decided to check on the man Thomas had brought to the hospital. As you entered the room, your heart skipped a beat. The patient's face was heavily bruised and battered, his body showing signs of severe torture. It was a grim sight, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of sympathy for the man, imagining the horrors he might have endured.

You approached him and began your examination, checking his vitals, the medications he was prescribed, and the results of his blood tests. Your eyes fell on the schedule at your tablet, he was set for surgery tomorrow, likely to fix his jaw.

While you were listening to his lungs with a stethoscope, you sensed a presence at the door. Looking up, you saw Thomas, and a lump formed in your throat.

Your eyes locked with his, and for a moment, everything else faded away. You couldn't help but confront him, your tone laced with sarcasm. "Came to finish the job?" you mocked, removing the stethoscope from your ears.

He remained silent, his gaze fixed on you, his jaw clenched tightly. His presence, once so comforting, now made you sick. Ignoring him, you resumed your examination of the patient's lungs, doing your best to focus on the task at hand.

As you continued your examination, the tension in the room was palpable. Thomas walked to the small sofa in the room, still watching you in silence. It was as though an invisible wall had erected itself between you, separating the two of you in a space filled with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

You couldn't ignore his presence, nor the turmoil it stirred within you. A mixture of anger, fear, and a hint of lingering attraction made your heart race.

He had crossed a line by coming here, by defying your wishes to stay away. And yet, part of you was somehow relieved that he was standing there. 

“I’m finished. I need you to leave” Thomas frowned and raised an eyebrow, refusing to budge. "You think I'm going to leave you alone with him? Are you delusional?"

He chuckled and shook his head. “And what do you think I’ll do if you leave?” he challenged, looking at the injured man on the bed.

“Do you really want me to say it?” you asked, but he ignored you. After a few moments, you couldn't bear the silence any longer. "So, is this some kind of sick game to you?" you asked, your voice quivering with a blend of frustration and vulnerability.

Thomas's gaze burned onto you, an intensity you'd never seen before. "What kind of man do you think I am?" he retorted, the heat in his eyes making you shiver.

“The kind of man that could have done this” you pointed at your patient and he chuckled, rolling his eyes at you.

You struggled to find your voice, your own fear and doubt surfacing. "Did you?" you managed to ask, your words drawn out as though pulled from the depths of your throat.

"What?" he replied with a hint of mockery in his tone, challenging you. 

"Torture him?" you whispered, your head nodding involuntarily. Your hands shook, and your entire body quivered with the intensity of the situation.

Thomas's gaze remained locked onto yours, his blue eyes unwavering as they bore into your soul. "No," he asserted, his voice firm 

Your uncertainty remained, and you found it difficult to trust his words. "Why do I not believe you?" you whispered, your voice barely audible

“if I wanted him dead, I wouldn't have brought him here, eh?” he stated. His response was cold, a frigid wall that seemed to surround him. "But you believe in whatever you want,"he continued, making no attempt to soften his words “can you just walk out? pretend you didn’t see me".

"What? Why would I do that? What are you doing here, Thomas?" you inquired, your eyes narrowing as you regarded him.

He met your gaze, his expression unyielding. "I came to visit," he replied curtly. Your skepticism grew as you couldn't help but wonder what had truly brought him here, you just watched him. Then, he made a request that caught you off guard. "Can you check him out?"

Your initial reaction was a resolute refusal. "There's no way he's leaving this hospital," you retorted, your voice firm.

Thomas, however, didn't seem fazed by your refusal. He gazed at you with a stark intensity and asked a question that sent a chill down your spine. "Will he die if he does?"

"Yes!" you nearly yelled in response, your voice laced with frustration and indignation

Thomas's resolve didn't waver. He spoke with a calm determination that sent shivers down your spine. "Look, I need to check him out. He can’t stay here. He needs a safer location."

You couldn't hide the frustration in your voice as you firmly stated, "He can't leave! he has a severe infection and a surgery tomorrow"

“If he stays, he’ll die” he said, his voice firm “do you want that?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course not! But, If he leaves he dies” you said, feeling your heart race in a weird rhythm “Why do you do this to me?” you whispered

“I’m doing nothing” he shook his head and shrugged “you are here because you want to be. You can leave and have nothing to do with this, y/n”

“This man is my responsibility, Thomas” you said, your voice shaky as your breathing got harder “... he can’t be discharged” 

Thomas's expression remained resolute, and his tone didn't waver. "Then what's the alternative?"

The tension in the room reached its breaking point, and you couldn't contain your frustration any longer. The pressure and uncertainty of the situation pushed you to the brink, and you snapped, your voice rising with exasperation. "How the fuck am I supposed to know?!!" you demanded, your words coming out in a rush, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on your shoulders. 

You tried to take a deep breath to calm, but somehow you felt like there was no air around you.

Your heart raced, pounding in your chest like a drumbeat, and you could hear the blood rushing in your ears. 

Your hands trembled uncontrollably, and you clutched at your chest as if to quell the suffocating pressure that had settled there.

Your thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind, and you struggled to hold onto a semblance of control.

In the midst of the chaos, you desperately attempted to take a deep breath, but the air around you felt thin and elusive, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

Panic had taken hold, and you were caught in its relentless grip, unable to break free.

Your vision blurred as tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the edges of the room and making everything seem distant and surreal. 

The room, once filled with tense conversation, had now transformed into a suffocating void. You longed for a way out of this paralyzing panic that had seized you.

It was as though the walls were closing in, and the world had grown smaller, more claustrophobic.

With trembling fingers, you reached out for anything to ground you, clutching onto the edge of your patient’s bed. But the room continued to spin, and your legs felt unsteady beneath you

In the midst of your overwhelming panic, you suddenly felt a hand on your arm. It was a firm yet gentle touch. You looked up and Thomas' face slowly formed in front of you. 

"Y/N," he said, his voice steady and reassuring. "Focus on your breathing, ey. In and out. You're going to be okay. You're going to ok"

His words cut through the chaos that had enveloped you, and you struggled to follow his guidance. He caressed your arms as he insctructed you.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. 

It felt like an eternity, but gradually, your breathing began to steady, and the world around you started to regain its shape.

Thomas continued to speak to you in hushed tones. His presence, once a source of tension, had now become a lifeline in your moment of need. He remained there, a calming presence, until your panic attack began to subside, and you could once again see the room clearly.

As the storm of panic receded, you felt a mix of emotions… embarrassment, relief, and a strange gratitude toward Thomas. You hadn't expected him to come to your aid, but in that moment, he had shown a side of himself you hadn't seen before.

After your breathing had steadied and the panic had subsided, Thomas remained by your side, his gaze filled with concern. He asked in a soft, genuinely worried tone, "Are you okay?"

You looked into his eyes, still filled with uncertainty and turmoil. You didn't have a straightforward answer. "I... I don't know," you admitted, your voice trembling.

Thomas regarded you with a mixture of concern and guilt. He had brought this unsettling chaos into your life, and it was evident in the way you now struggled to find your footing.

"I'm sorry," he confessed, his voice heavy with remorse.

You furrowed your brows and asked, "Are you?"

Thomas locked eyes with you, and for an instant, you glimpsed a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze. "Yes," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. "I didn't intend for any of this to happen to you." He gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, caressing your cheek. But as if awakening from a dream, he abruptly withdrew a step, putting distance between you.

You watched as he retreated. Instantly missing his touch. The tension in the room was palpable, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. There were questions about you two that hung in the air, unspoken but heavy with meaning. You wanted him to stay away. This was your wish. right? 

Finally, Thomas broke the silence, his voice softer than before. "I'll leave you to your work," he said, gesturing towards the patient you were examining. It was clear that he was stepping away not just physically but emotionally as well.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you... for helping."

As Thomas turned to leave, you couldn't help but question your own desires. Did you want him to stay away, as you had insisted? Or did you secretly crave his presence, despite the chaos and danger he seemed to bring into your life?

“Thomas” you called and he turned to you

“I’ll leave in two hours'” you said and took a deep breath “at least take him somewhere with a heart monitor… If he means anything to you… hire a nurse… i don’t know” 

he took the longest deep breath you’ve ever seen him take and then he nodded, before leaving the room.

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[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 14: Disrespectful

Chapter Word Count: 4,646

Anything in Bold Italics are Korean/Another language.

Master List | Prev | Next

The flight from Jakarta was long and grueling. Everyone was tired, staff included, and Jihoon’s exhaustion was bleeding over from the last two days. You were home for just over a week before everyone would fly out to Thailand. You had work, the group had practice, and it was weighing a little on your mental health. 

While you had traveled here and there for work once and a while, it wasn’t to the taxing extent of traveling with Seventeen. There were many rules everyone needed to follow – luckily, that wasn’t the problem –, you had to be careful with fans so you hovered around security personnel on the ground, but the most taxing was always being on the go. Though New York was a fast paced place, the momentum in which Seventeen and their staff moved was mind boggling. 

They were always busy. Between makeup and hair, they were vlogging, signing things, recording Tik Toks, and already working on or discussing what was coming next. You had heard a few murmurs of Caratland ideas, a new album, even whispers of Vernon working on his solo release. There was so much going on that you didn’t know how to mentally handle it all when Jihoon was telling you things, Seokmin and Mingyu were excited, and Seungkwan was trying to help you understand (thank god). 

Jamie and Kazuki were there for you but it was getting harder to talk with them on the phone with the time zone change. Mimi and Papa always called you at the perfect times since they were up early, however they didn’t really understand the degree in which stuff was bothering you.

It was only the second day back in Seoul when Jihoon shuffled into your apartment mid-afternoon (you gave him the code over text because you were too comfortably curled up in the corner of the couch). He had been feeling uneasy all morning. When you tried to text him if he was okay, all he replied back was that he’d be over in a couple hours and you could talk about it. 

“Hi.” You peaked out from your bundle of blankets, only doom scrolling on your phone since you finished your work for the day. 

“Hey.” He said in English, near tossing himself down on the couch, head resting against some of the blankets at your feet. 

“ You okay?” 

Jihoon sighed, pulling the hat he wore over his face and groaning. “ You are gonna hate it.” 

“What- What am I going to hate?” 

“My parents are coming into town tomorrow to meet you.” 

Yeah…yeah you were going to hate that. 

Jihoon removed his hat to look up at you, watching the once relaxed look on your face turn into something closer to stressed out. Quickly he sat up and scrunched his nose up in distaste as he faced you, sighing heavily. “ I’m sorry. My mom called me this morning and said they already have a hotel booked not that far from here and wanted to meet you, more specifically her.” 

You swallowed down the lump in your throat, hiding your slightly trembling hands in the blanket around you. The uneasiness Jihoon had been feeling since earlier was still there but now he was worried and a little irritated. By the look on his face, he was able to feel the stress and dread that was growing in the pit of your stomach. 

“ Ruby-ah, it will be okay.” He reached out, placing his hand on your cheek and letting his thumb run over your skin, the buzzing of the bond trying to calm you. “ They just want to meet you.” 

“I’m meeting you parents, ‘Hoon-ah, they aren’t just normal people.” You frowned, unwrapping the cocoon you created to let him in, bundling the two of you back up. He shifted to better hold you now, bringing your head towards his shoulder and letting his arms wrap around you. Gently he placed his chin on the top of your head. 

“ I know, but I’m sure they will like you. If it helps, I’m terrified to meet your grandparents.” The small rumble of laughter he tried to push out had his shoulders shaking. “ And they are the ones that will have jet lag.” 

“ Do we have to meet them…?” 

He snorted, “ Mom would be knocking on everyone’s door and trying to contact my manager if we try to hide.” 

“Mama Bear.” 

That had both of you laughing quietly. You leaned further into Jihoon’s embrace, listening to the calm, rhythmic beating of his heart. 

“ I’m sure they will like you, Ruby-ah.” 

Jihoon was out of your apartment early the next morning, saying he wanted to hit the gym and shower before you were to meet up with his parents at noon. You could feel he was nervous but there was an unspoken agreement that it was nerve wracking for the both of you. He was still calm under the jittery feeling, working out probably was a good idea if it helped diminish his worries. 

For yourself, you did what you did best. You cleaned your apartment up despite them not even coming to your place, reviewed any paperwork needing to be handled for work, and took a shower to get yourself ready. Best impressions were in order so you put on a nice pair of slacks and a not too oversized t-shirt. You styled your hair to look more presentable and shuffled about the apartment to gather anything you need. 

When you sit down for the first time in a couple hours, you don’t know what to do. Everything was clean, you were ready to head out, nothing needed to be done. Your leg started to bounce with jittery energy, drumming your fingers against the top of your thighs. A check of the time on your phone had you still an hour away until you were to meet at a restaurant his mother wanted to visit. 

The buzz under your skin of Jihoon getting close had you springing up and hurrying to the door. Before he got a chance to tap in the keycode, you were already opening the door for him. His eyes were wide as his hand hovering where the keypad was and he looked at you with confusion. Then his expression shifted into sympathy, stepping in and closing the door. 

“ Ruby-ah, everything will be okay.” He placed both hands on your arms, “ Everything will be fine, nothing to worry about.” 

His reassurance was needed but it didn’t reach every nervous crevice of your mind. There were so many worst case scenarios racing through your head. 

“But what if they hate me?” You groaned, turning and stomping towards the couch and face planted, words coming out muffled now. “ They are going to hate me.” 

“Now you are being dramatic.” You could hear his footsteps getting closer before he sat beside your head, patting your back. “ They aren’t going to hate you.” 

That’s how you found yourself sitting beside Jihoon, waiting for his parents, at a popular Korean restaurant. Even with you holding Jihoon’s hand under the table, your heart was beating out of your chest. At his suggestion, you both went and arrived early to secure a more secluded table but the silence that followed after only heightened the uneasiness passing back and forth between the bond. You were glad you weren’t the only one feeling tense. 

Jihoon flinched and released your hand, moving to stand. Quickly you followed, straightening your shirt, following his line of sight to come face to face with his parents. To say he looked like his parents was an understatement. His father greeted you both with a smile, pulling his son close for a hug, patting him on the back. Her mother seemed much more subdued, her smile small, not fully reaching her eyes as she hugged Jihoon. 

When they turned to you, you gave a proper, deeper bow, greeting them formally in Korean, stating your name and taking a few moments pause before standing straight. His father was smiling at you but his mother…she was analyzing you. The smile was gone from her face and her eyes roamed your person, taking in everything and anything she could about you. 

“ It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N-ah.” Mr. Lee reached out and you shook his hand with both of your own. 

Mrs. Lee…she was still quiet and it was unsettling. 

“ It’s an honor to meet the both of you. I apologize that we couldn’t get together sooner between the tour schedule.” You gave them another bow, still deep but not like the previous one. With a small motion of your hand, you gestured towards the empty seats for them. “ Please sit, I’m sure the trip here was long.” 

You and Jihoon stayed standing until both of his parents sat down. When you did sit, you tried your hardest not to let your leg bounce or fidget with anything. Jihoon, thankfully, told them to order whatever they’d like, and a period of quiet fell over the table. Both his mother and father didn’t hesitate to get different dishes once the waitress arrived. 

“ How has the tour been, Jihoon-ah?” 

Jihoon cleared his throat at his father’s question, puffing his cheeks and tilted his head as he thought. “ It’s going well. It’s just tiring with all the traveling and little rest, but it’s overall satisfactory. ” 

“ Has it been hard on you, Y/N-ah?” 

You blinked at him but shook your head slightly. “ Aside from all the traveling, it hasn’t been too rough on me, but I do try my best between the schedules to help Jihoon-ah the best I can.” You wanted to say more but you didn’t know how much you probably should talk… 

His father nodded along. “I’m sure he doesn’t make it easy, knowing my son.” 

Jihoon bulked at that a bit, huffing. “ What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You are difficult.” His father shot back, still smiling, which had you covering your mouth to laugh. 

“ No- Jihoon-ah has been fine, I mainly make sure he is eating and sleeping enough. Despite my efforts to stop him, he has been helping me a lot.” You glanced beside you and Jihoon was trying to suppress a smirk, sitting back in his chair. Looking back at his parents, you smile. “ You’ve both raised a very caring man.” 

“ What do you do for work?” His mother spoke up, her hands folded neatly on the table, raising a brow at you. 

“Oh- I do translation and international communication between my head company in America and Korea, however I also work with Japan and, occasionally, Spain.” The explanation was a little forced under her watchful eyes. “ When I was back in America, I would go into the office, but I work remotely so I can travel with Jihoon and the group.”

“Did you go to college?” 

“Yes, Ma’am. I acquired my Masters in Business Administration and International Relations. I’m hoping to move up the managerial chain of the office we have here in Seoul the longer I work here.” 

She didn’t look impressed, not that you were trying to impress her, but you were hoping she’d like that you weren’t just using Jihoon for money or anything. That was the last time you wanted from this…relationship thing you have going on. 

The waitress had returned in time to give the table a breather, placing down dish after dish with another member of staff until the table was full. Thanking them once they were finished, you and Jihoon waited until his parents took food before grabbing any for yourself. In relative silence, the four of you ate, not knowing what to ask, what to say, nothing like that. You felt completely out of your element. 

“ I’m curious, Y/N-ah,” Mrs. Lee didn’t look up from the food in front of her. “ What can you contribute to my son’s life that makes you believe you can be something outside of a soulmate?” 

Jihoon stilled and you stopped chewing. 

“ Mom-” 

“Dear-” 

“What can you contribute to my son’s life?” She repeated and lifted her head, meeting your trembling eyes. 

“ I- ” You didn’t break the gaze between you, taking in a deep breath to calm your anxiety. “ I’d like to believe that the relationship Jihoon-ah and I have can be meaningful.” 

“I didn’t ask if your relationship can be meaningful,” Mrs. Lee placed her chopsticks down and once more folded her hands neatly. “ To be frank, you don’t seem fit to help him succeed.” 

“Fit to-” You were thrown off, furrowing your brow in confusion. Your heart was in your throat and you wanted to escape but knew you couldn’t.  

“ You seem…immature. I can’t see you contributing more to Jihoon’s life than providing the necessary things for a soulmate to live.” 

There was anger starting to rise within you. The confusion you wore easier flattened into a stony expression. Jihoon whipped his head to look at you then towards his mom. 

“ That’s enough.” Jihoon spoke up but his mother was staring you down. 

“ Lee-nim,” You kept your anger at bay, keeping your tone even. “ I don’t appreciate you assuming things about who I am based on this first meeting.”

The air surrounding you was so thick you could cut through it with a knife. Both Jihoon and his father were stunned silent, neither sure of what to do at the moment. The staring contest between you and his mother was deadly. 

“ I wonder what type of people raised you seeing as your parents didn’t raise you with any respect for your elders.” 

Your heart stopped. All the anger that once built up within was heightened. Around you, things moved in slow motion. Jihoon raised his voice but everything was muffled as if cotton was shoved in your ears. 

“Whether you like it or not, I’m Jihoon’s soulmate. I’ve worked my ass off to get to where I am by myself and I won’t let you determine the type of person I am or how I can help him succeed in life when he has already done so much for himself. You speak about respect for elders but my grandparents taught me to only respect those who show me respect and currently I see none.” You stood from your seat, three sets of eyes staring at you in shock. “ Now if you will excuse me, I will not let myself be disrespected by someone who doesn’t even know me, nor seem willing to get to know me. Enjoy your time with Jihoon. I’m no longer hungry. I’m done.” 

You took your card out of your wallet and handed it to Jihoon before giving a curt bow to his mother and father. 

“ Ruby-ah-” Jihoon looked panicked and you felt the alarm flow between you. 

“It’s fine. Enjoy the food.” 

And with slow, heavy steps, you left the building and walked aimlessly through the busy city streets. 

He was…He didn’t even know how he felt. 

Watching as they left the restaurant, the outrage they felt, it was surreal. 

Never had he imagined that his mother would treat someone so harshly, let alone with such little respect. She was usually composed and kind but now she was down right nasty. 

“ What is wrong with you?” He bulked in disbelief, furrowing his brow. “ What the hell is wrong with you?” 

His mother scoffed and frowned at him. “ What is wrong with me? What is wrong with them!? Disrespectful and immature are an understatement of what they are!” 

“The only person here that is disrespectful is you! You just met them and you are telling them that they can’t be more than my soulmate? Someone that is keeping me alive?” Now he was getting angry. 

“ They aren’t. They will hold you back every step of the way.” Her words were frigid. 

“Hold me back- Mom, you don’t know them!” 

“Clearly I don’t have to, Jihoon-ah.” 

“ Enough. Both of you.” His father placed his hand firmly on the table, causing both his mother and him to shut their mouths. He turned his direction to his wife, “ I’m disappointed in you. You didn’t give them a single chance. You judged them based on whatever you read online from horrible fans.” 

His mother scoffed once more. “ Unlike you, I’m trying to watch out for our son and make sure his future will hold success.” 

Jihoon let out a groan of frustration. “ I’m not a child anymore! I’m twenty-six this year! I don’t need you vetting my soulmate when fate has already picked them!”

“Just because they are your soulmate, doesn’t mean they are perfect for you, Jihoon-ah-” 

“They are perfect.” Jihoon stood, exasperated and annoyed. He couldn’t believe that he was hearing. “ Ruby-ah is perfect to me and that’s all that matters.” 

He held his mother’s gaze, eyes narrowed in a pointed glare. She raised her chin higher, probably thinking she was right. He hated when she let her pride get the better of her. 

“ Think what you want, Jihoon-ah. I’m disappointed fate picked an ill-fit person to be tied to you for the rest of your life.” 

“ The only disappointment here is you for being a judgemental and hateful person. You raised me better than that.” 

She gasped, he didn’t know what brought him to even think those words, let alone say them, but in that moment, he meant it. 

“ Jihoon-ah.” His father started sternly but Jihoon shook his head. 

“ No, dad. The disrespect she showed Ruby-ah was too far. Neither of you raised me like that.” He pulled his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a handful of bills, placing them on the table in front of his father. “ This should cover everything. Only call me when mom is ready to apologize.” 

Jihoon grabbed his jacket and walked out the door, looking either way down the street, trying to figure out which way they went. Ruby didn’t know the city well and he didn’t know if they were heading home- 

Pulling his phone out, he quickly called them, walking down the sidewalk in the direction of the dorms. The blaring ringing went on once, twice, and he continued down the street, picking up his pace. 

“Come on-” He muttered in English when the call went to voicemail after a few moments. He hung up and sent a text message, hoping to get any sort of response. 

Waiting at a crosswalk, Jihoon bounced on his feet, still feeling their anger, but it was calmer than what they felt earlier. To his current displeasure, there were a few people – who he assumed were fans – taking pictures of him on their phones. He pulled a mask from his jacket pocket and slid it on, keeping his head down. While Carats were part of his love for his career, right now he wasn’t in the mood to be gawked at. 

When the street was clear to cross, a text came in and he was bolting down the street in the opposite direction. Ruby had sent a message of their location in the other direction along the Han River. Though he didn’t get out much, he at least knew the basis from all the years of living in the city. 

As he neared the approximate location, the hum that coursed under his skin was comforting. The subconscious pull led him directly to where they sat under a tree, staring out on the still green grass and the flowing water of the river. 

“I blew it.” They said, not looking up as he slid to a squat beside them. “ I’m sorry.” 

“ Why are you sorry? My mom was rude and judgemental.” He shifted to sit, letting his legs splat out on the grass and leaned back on his hands. “ It was uncalled for.” 

It was music to his ears hearing Ruby snort and try to cover up their laugh. “ She is still your mom, Jihoon-ah.” 

“And moms can be overbearing and unaccepting of their kids growing up. I’m sure your grandmother can relate to that.” 

“Yeah. I guess she can…” Ruby sighed, running a hand through their hair before laughing under their breath. “ When I was in my first semester of college, Mimi drove all the way from upstate New York to the city to see me every month. She kept saying that she needed someone to take care of outside of Papa. It took her a while to realize that I was an adult after that.” 

“I’m sorry about what she said about your parents.” 

“ You don’t need to apologize for her, she can do that for herself if she throws her pride aside.” Their voice was laced with a hint of anger, that same feeling was still in the bond. 

“ Say what’s on your mind before I have to deal with you sulking for hours on end.” Jihoon rolled his eyes. 

Ruby huffed, criss-crossing their legs and crossing their arms. “ I know she is your mom and all, but who does she think she is judging me!? I’m not here for your money, I’m not here to use you in any way, and I’m definitely better than some of the people in this world for who your soulmate could have been.” 

He snorted but said nothing, letting them continue. “And learning a shit ton of languages is hard! It came earlier to me than math. Let alone getting my Masters in a double major. And asking me what I contribute to your life? Are we still in the fifties? No offense but you don’t know how to really cook! She should be happy I’m feeding you whenever you come over! And I make you sleep at a reasonable time!” 

That had him bursting out in laughter, face scrunching up and shoulders shaking. They weren’t wrong. Even in just a month, Ruby has been helpful in the caring for himself aspect of everything. And…And Ruby can cook pretty well so he wasn’t going to complain. 

“ I’m serious! She doesn’t know me, she assumes that because I’m ' disrespectful' and 'immature' that I’m not a responsible person. I pay bills, I work a full time job, and I have to deal with you and all of Seventeen! Especially ‘97 line, maybe minus Minghao-ah because they are up my ass!” 

“They will never leave you alone. You’ve signed the figurative contract and now Mingyu-ah and Seokminie will forever be your problem.” He gasped for air, watching them throw their arms up in defeat. 

Ruby pouted, rolling their head back and to the side to look at him. Jihoon easily looked back, but saw their eyes looking over his shoulder. 

“ Are they recording us?” He asked and they nodded. He wasn’t surprised fans followed him or noticed him in general. “ Come on.” 

Lazily he stood, holding his hand out to help them up and patted off their back. Jihoon slid his hand properly into Ruby’s, pulling out his phone to order a taxi. Ruby stepped close, seemingly hiding him the best they could. The fans did keep their distance, but the chorus of loud whispers and phones being held up to videos or pictures were making Ruby uncomfortable, he could feel it. He turned his back to the fans that looked upon them, facing his soulmate and waited for the notification that the car he ordered arrived. 

“ Are we going home?” They whispered, keeping their head down. 

“ Yeah, I’m gonna get us home.” 

“ ...I’m never going to get used to that.” 

“Do you see why I’m a homebody?” He followed their hushed voice, pouting his lips as he looked down at his phone. “ Sleep, exercise, work, sleep, that is my life.” 

Ruby snorted and a small smile spread on their face, “Don’t remind me, loser.” He only rolled his eyes, running his thumb over their knuckles as a small distraction.

Without too long of a wait, the taxi came and Jihoon pulled Ruby along towards the road, matching the car’s plate to the app, and opened the door for them to get in. The ride back to the doors wasn’t long and Jihoon was already receiving messages from Seungcheol asking ‘ why Carats are posting about him and Ruby on twitter when they were supposed to be at lunch with his parents?’ 

“ Wah, he really does work fast.” Ruby leaned against his side, looking down at his phone to better see Cheol’s texts. “ It’s kinda terrifying.”

“ Well, your name has been added to his roster of ‘people I can look up on twitter now when I’m bored’. Congratulations.” 

“I will never know peace between knowing all of you.” 

“Welcome to my life.” 

“No no!” Mingyu whined, throwing himself helplessly to the floor across from you. “ Tell us what happened!” 

“Yeah!” Seokmin tossed a crumpled up napkin at you which you dodged. “ We’ve met Jihoon-hyung’s mom, she wasn’t mean to us.” 

“You aren’t his soulmate.” Minghao pointed out, taking another bite of his takeout. “Ruby-ah isn’t a normal person in the eyes of a mother.” 

“ For example, Jihoonie’s mom loves me.” Soonyoung spoke up and everyone told him to shut up which caused him to pout. “ Mean…”  

“ I’ve never heard her so critical before.” Jihoon spoke up, pushing his food around with his chopsticks. “ She wasn’t even this bad when I told her I was going to be a trainee.” 

“Ruby-ah~ Tell us~” Seokmin said in a sing-song tone, using one of his chopsticks as if it was a wand, pointing it at you and twirling it happily. 

“She like-” You puffed out air, fidgeting side to side as you thought. “ She first asked about my education and my job so I explained all that. Then she asked me something about how I can 'contribute more to his life than just being his soulmate'. Then she called me disrespectful and immature and this mother f-” 

You stopped yourself, getting angry, similar to how you were earlier. “ Sorry, didn’t mean for that to slip…Then she brought up my parents not teaching me respect.” 

The air surrounding the group of you tensed and you sighed. They all knew vaguely (except for Jihoon who got to hear the whole story) of your family with how much time you’ve spent with them. You shrugged, shoveling some food into your mouth, not wanting to get too heated as of now.

“ Sorry Jihoonie, but your mom was a bitch.” Soonyoung said it so casually that you nearly choked on your food. 

“Thank god someone said it.” You threw your head back in laughter, falling over onto Jihoon who was trying not to laugh at it while Soonyoung smirked to himself. The rest of 97 line was in different extents of laughter, Mingyu on the floor and Minghao giggling with shaking shoulders. “I was going to say…Mother fucker but that would have been mean.” 

That made them roar up again and Jihoon followed by throwing his head back, face scrunched up in a wide smile. Seokmin and Mingyu were laying on their backs on the floor, Soonyoung was keeled over on the couch, holding his stomach as he gasped for air. Minghao sat beside you with his back to the couch, shoulders raised and curling in on himself as he laughed. 

You were glad you became friends with Seventeen. They were just the company you needed to deal with this. It was nice to have them as friends when Jamie and Kazuki were halfway around the world.