#if i ever experience attraction again it’s so over for everyone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

niningtori · 6 months ago

Text

an iron man | oneshot

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: beomgyu has only ever known how to live function as a rental sexbot. he fucks whoever and whatever comes his way with a forced smile plastered on his face. that is, until you, a self-proclaimed trainwreck, come along.

genre: android!au, sexbot!au, angst, romance, fluff (more than i ever thought i could ever write i fear...), skippable smut at the very end (will be marked)

warnings: very brief and vague mentions of beomgyu being forced to engage in sexual acts he does not want with previous clients, skippable smut at the very end (will be marked)

smut warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, praise, dacryphilia, sub!gyu

word count: 14.7k (trust i will not be writing this much again if this flops BWNWJSJEJDK)

notes: terrified to post this one because this is probably my favorite thing i've ever written and if it gets a bad reaction i might die :,) also very unsure if this is the best time to post it since it's during kinktober so i'm not sure if the demand is there but i love this work so so much i pray you all like it. if you don't read anything else from me, i hope that you read this bc i rlly care ab it :,) please don't be mean i beg

beomgyu doesn’t know how long he’s been living like this. living is an odd term, too, and it’s not just because “life” is ill-defined for an android, but because to call what he experiences a life feels like a bastardization of the term. his power is turned on at some point, usually late at night, he fucks or gets fucked by somebody he probably doesn’t know, then he does the same shit all over again. so yes, he may be “alive”, but he wouldn't dare to call what he experiences living. living is too precious of a term to be used so cheaply on a sex android who’s made available for rent to the highest bidder of the night.

he’s seen how people live through his scattered vignettes of human life. he only gets them when he’s powered on, but he soaks them up with pleasure because they’re the only thing he’s ever known. some people do it wildly, living unattached to everyone and everything. their lives are not completely dissimilar to his, in a way, except they have a choice in the matter. they have time to find themselves, what their likes and dislikes are, and they get to connect with people in a way he will never have the power to. others, though, live the kind of life he really wants. they live by loving and being loved, knowing and being known. he wonders what it’d be like to know somebody outside of whatever secret deviant sexual pleasures they have. he wonders what it’s like to be known, too, but he guesses you would need to have something for someone to care enough to know about in the first place. he has no such thing.

it’s a night like any other when he’s powered on by a total stranger. he briefly takes in his surroundings and notices that it’s a really nice place, but you wouldn’t be the first rich person to rent him — not by a longshot. next, he takes you in. now, there’s no reason for you to dress up, really. you have no need to tempt him, as he will be able to feign attraction no matter what you look like, but he still finds it odd that you seem to have forgone any effort to appeal to him, if only because most people’s fantasies require them to look and feel sexy; but you don’t look sexy at all. you look like you’ve just gotten home from a long day at work, and honestly? you kind of smell like it, too.

“do you think you could do the dishes for me? i’m exhausted,” you ask with a perfectly-timed yawn. what…?

he short-circuits for a moment as he tries to think of an appropriate response. he’s never had anyone try to get him to do chores for them, but maybe this is some sort of weird roleplay? maybe you want him to act as a house husband for you before doing the deed, which isn’t necessarily a problem since he’s well-versed in acting, but there’s just one issue.

“i don’t know how,” he tells you honestly.

“you don’t know how to do dishes?” you ask curiously.

“it’s not in my programming,” he replies. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s embarrassed because of the way he hesitates and looks away from you when he says it. he can’t possibly feel that, though, so it must just be your imagination.

“oh… that’s alright. okay, do you know how to clean a room? mine’s kind of dirty,” you try.

“n-no,” he says, and he wishes the earth would just swallow him whole. he’s never failed at living up to expectations, and never so badly, at that. just what kind of fetish is this?

“that’s okay,” you sigh, and he may not fully understand it, but he can sense your disappointment. “well, what can you do?” and the question is not asked maliciously, but with what seems to be genuine wonder. ah. he knows how to answer this one. slowly, he walks up to you and loosens your hair. you look up at him in shock, but he just cups your face, swiping his thumb across your lower lip.

“i can do whatever you want me to, baby,” he whispers alluringly. “just tell me how you like it.” you’re so stunned at his switch in demeanor that you forget how to speak for a moment, but you quickly recollect yourself and pry his hands off of you.

“i don’t want you to do anything,” you insist. “i’m just tired. if you can’t help me clean, that’s alright. you can watch something if you’re bored. i think that’s it. well, goodnight.” beomgyu is malfunctioning at the moment. he thinks the gears in his head might be sparking while he tries to understand this new development. you don’t give him time to process it, though. you just slam your bedroom door shut behind you. he thinks he hears you lock it, too.

genuinely at a loss at the thought that he has nothing and no one to do, he sits himself on your couch. he tries not to make himself too at home at first, just barely making a dent on it and scooting to the very edge of the cushion as to not appear to be too relaxed. what if this is some sort of test? what if you’re actually going to come out soon so you two can fuck? until then, what should he do next? thoughts like this plague him until he accepts the fact that you are actually sleeping. your obnoxiously loud snoring is a dead giveaway, and he finally, finally feels brave enough to fiddle with your remote control.

he scrolls for something to watch. movies and shows have been on as background noise during sex before, so he’s somewhat familiar with them, but he’s never gotten the opportunity to pick for himself or actually pay attention to what's happening on screen. he settles on a romantic movie about a robot who joins human society. the robot falls in love with a human girl, but in the end, the robot has to leave the girl because the town won’t accept him, even after using him. she marries a human man and has children, and eventually grandchildren, too. she still loves the robot even though he’s gone, which he thinks is supposed to make him feel sorry for her, but all he can feel is pity for the robot, who spends the rest of his life alone.

it’s enough to make him cry, which he shouldn’t be able to do in a non-sexual setting, but he does it, anyway. it’s just so unfair to him. the girl is able to live a normal life while the robot is doomed to be alone forever. why? because he was born different? it’s not his fault that he was invented, but he spends the rest of his time on earth paying for the crime of existing in a world not built for him. the more beomgyu thinks about it, the more wronged he feels. he’s outright sobbing by the time you plop down on the couch beside him. he jumps up and straightens his posture while trying in vain to regain his composure.

“yeah, this movie makes me cry, too,” you quietly remark. he’s silent, not because he didn’t hear what you said, but because he genuinely doesn’t know how to act after being caught red handed.

“can i ask you something?” you ask in lieu of his lack of a response.

“yes,” he feebly answers.

“why are you crying?” you question with a tilt of your head, but something in him tells him that you already know.

“because the movie made me sad,” he admits after a pause.

“are androids supposed to feel things like that?”

“... no,” he replies after a pause.

“then why can you?”

“i… i don't know. just please don’t say anything to my owners,” he pleads. he knows that if the company that owns him were to find out about this, he’d be scrapped in a heartbeat. or worse, they’d analyze him like a labrat to try to find the anomaly within him. his “life” as a sexbot will be over, and he’d really rather be a box of scraps than live as a case study in a lab somewhere.

“it’s okay,” you tell him with a reassuring smile as you watch him trying not to spiral. “i won’t tell them. it’ll be our secret.” beomgyu has never had a secret to share with anyone before, so he feels an overwhelming amount of excitement at the idea that he will finally have one. his chest feels warm at the thought.

“thank you,” he says with a grateful smile.

“no problem,” you reply with a yawn. “i’m tired, so i’m heading back to bed. i just wanted to get some water. goodnight, for real this time.”

“goodnight,” he murmurs softly. you return his words with a sleepy smile and go back into your room. he finds that he’s smiling even when you leave.

he spends the night consuming as much media as he conceivably can before he has to leave. usually, he'd be powered off after he’s done being used, so he greedily savors every moment he can. who knows if he'll ever get this chance again. when you wake up, you're surprised to see that he's exactly where you left him, still watching the screen intently.

“good morning,” you say while stretching your arms.

“good morning,” he replies.

“are you ready to be returned?” you ask.

“... yes,” he lies.

“okay. i think somebody will be here to pick you up in an hour or so. you hungry?”

“i don't really eat,” he bashfully answers. for some reason, he's embarrassed at the fact that you're treating him like a human while he's unable to fully act like one.

“oh. i guess that makes sense,” you nod.

things are quiet until he’s picked up, but it’s not an awkward silence. you sit next to him on the couch as you wolf down some breakfast and let him watch whatever he pleases. when he eventually hears knocking at your door, he feels an incomprehensible sense of dread.

“i think that's them,” you remark, breaking the silence.

“y-yeah,” he replies.

“well, it was nice to meet you,” you say, reaching out your hand for him. he’s unsure what to do with it. not missing a beat, you gently grab his hand and shake it. he's stunned at the physical contact, and he's still reeling when you let the man from the rental company in. you have a brief conversation with him before he walks towards beomgyu.

“goodbye,” you tell the android with a smile and a little wave.

“... good—” and the man switches him off.

the next time beomgyu is powered on, he’s in your house again. relief floods him when he realizes it. you don’t seem as exhausted as the last time he saw you. when that was, he has no idea, but if he had to guess, he’d say it was just last night because of the fact that he’s so popular he’s rented almost every day.

“hey,” you greet him with a smile. he’s still feeling relieved before he realizes that tonight might be the night where you ask him to have sex with you. maybe you were just tired last night and had no desire to fuck, but he can tell that you’re feeling more energetic tonight.

“i didn’t catch your name,” you add.

“... beomgyu. i’m part of the choi line, but i’m a custom model, so they gave me a name,” he tentatively replies.

“nice,” you nod, and you briefly introduce yourself before asking if he wants to watch a movie.

“watch… a movie?” is this some sort of euphemism for fucking? it wouldn’t be the first time he’s heard of something like this. as mentioned before, some people like movies as background noise.

“yeah, you can pick,” you say, casually plopping down on the couch and patting the cushion next to you. he hesitantly takes your cue, and he’s mentally preparing himself for what comes next before you take a blanket and cocoon yourself in it so tightly, it’d be impossible for him to touch you.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, and he jolts a bit when he realizes that he’s been staring in disbelief. “oh, are you cold? do you want a blanket, too?”

“‘m fine,” he replies.

“are you sure? the clothes they make you wear look a little thin,” you observe with your nose wrinkled, and he feels impossibly small under your surveying eye. “here, i’ll get you some sweats. i think soobin left some the last time he was here.”

“who’s soobin?” he asks a little too quickly. so quickly, in fact, he doesn’t even have time to process why he even asked.

“my friend. stay here, i’ll grab them for you.”

when you return, you have a long pair of sweatpants in hand and a big t-shirt.

“you can change in the bathroom. it’s down the hallway and to the left, okay?” he nods in response.

he strips his clothes off as best as he can, and it feels like he’s shedding a second skin. when he’s finished undressing, he pulls on the clothes you gave him and stares in the mirror. it’s in his programming to always be mindful of how he looks, but he feels especially self-conscious now that he’s wearing a normal outfit. he fixes up his hair and clears his throat before exiting your (messy) bathroom and making his way back into your living room. he finds you fiddling with your phone before you look up at him.

“took you long enough,” you tease, and he blushes, which stuns you. just how human is this guy?

“s-sorry, i —”

“hey, i’m just kidding. you’re fine. you look pretty good in those clothes — soobin would be jealous,” you chuckle. his ears perk up at the mention of soobin again. is he your boyfriend? he must be. why else would he have clothes at your house? is that why you don't want to sleep with beomgyu? because you have someone already? if that's the case, why rent him at all? but he is not brave enough to ask these questions, so he settles for a soft “thank you” and returns to his spot on the couch.

you toss him the remote and he catches it with ease before unsurely flipping through your streaming services. he finds something that piques his interest and turns to you with an uncertain look before you nod encouragingly. he selects it and lets it play. he doesn’t mean to, but he finds himself sinking further and further into the cushions as it progresses.

it’s a sweet movie — a romantic comedy about an amnesic woman whose memory is wiped clean every morning, but a man falls in love with her, anyway. she never remembers him, so he has to make her fall in love with him in a new way every day. he finds himself smiling throughout it, but a particularly funny scene has him actually laughing for the first time. it’s a squeaky sort of thing, and he has never laughed before, so he’s somewhat surprised as it leaves his throat. he looks to you in trepidation, but you just smile warmly and respond with a soft chuckle of your own. he finds that he looks to you every time a new development occurs, and you always answer encouragingly.

the end of the film surprises him. it’s bittersweet in that she never does get her memory back, but the man makes a video recounting their entire love story for her to watch every time she wakes up. it ends with them living happily together in spite of everything, and it’s enough to make him sob. he turns to you and sees that you’re teary-eyed as well, but you seem to be enjoying his reaction so much that there’s still a grin on your face. after the film ends, you can tell that he has something on his mind.

“what’s wrong? didn’t you like it?” you gently ask.

“i did. i just don’t understand,” he replies timidly.

“don’t understand what?”

“why he would do all of that for her, i guess,” he says.

“because he loves her. when you love somebody, you’d do anything to be with them. you always find a way,” you tell him, and the sentiment seems to strike a chord within him.

“even if they’re that different?”

“of course.”

beomgyu spends the following nights with this same routine. he’s switched on, sees you standing in front of him with a smile, gets comfortable, and watches as much media as he possibly can while you two chatter away about every scene. he learns much more from it than he ever did from experience with his previous renters, and he finds himself becoming more and more emotional by the day. you never try to question him or press him to explain any of his feelings, and it just makes him feel even more comfortable with you.

one day, he even feels comfortable enough to ask you a question. the question.

“can i ask you something?”

“of course! what is it?” you reply in earnest. beomgyu has never directly inquired about you.

“why do you rent me? i mean, i know we watch stuff together now, but why rent me in the first place?” and even when he feels exponentially more at ease with you than he ever has in any other context, he’s still nervous when he asks it.

“oh, my friend did it as a joke, i guess,” you shrug. “he thought i needed to get laid or something, but i’m not into stuff like that, so i just thought i’d ask you to help me clean. obviously, that’s what i actually need,” you giggle. what he feels at your words can only be described as disappointment. “stuff like that”? so you’re not into sleeping with sexbots? is it because you find them disgusting? is it because you find him disgusting? he’s not sure what he expected, but this wasn’t it.

“oh. so why don’t you buy a cleaning bot?” he asks softly, and while you are usually pretty perceptive of his emotions, you don’t register the fact that he’s at a loss right now.

“i dunno. my parents were always against that sort of thing. they thought it was wrong, i guess, so i didn’t grow up with them like everyone else did. i didn’t really have an opinion on them until i met you,” you tell him while grinning and lightly nudging him with your elbow. he tries his best to smile because, in theory, your words are really sweet. you see him as more than just another android, so why does he feel like that’s not enough?

the fragile connection you two have made seems even more fragile now. at least, it does to him. you only met each other because of a joke your friend just so happened to make, not because of fate or the divine intervention that he always sees in the movies. maybe in another world, your friend rented a different sexbot. maybe you’d even treat them the same way you treat him. the thought alone makes something ugly burn in his chest.

still, you are oblivious to the internal war raging within beomgyu.

“hey, i’ve got an idea,” you tell him, and he perks up a bit. “have you ever listened to music?”

“not really,” he replies solemnly. people have played it in the background of their sexual escapades, but he hasn’t really gotten the chance to listen the same way humans do. you finally register his crestfallen appearance, but you chalk it up to him feeling like he’s missing out.

“why don’t we listen to some? i can play a bunch of different genres so you can find what you like,” you suggest, and he agrees to it. truthfully, he doesn’t fully understand how music can be better than movies and shows, but he is curious to find out what makes it so special.

and special, it is. he doesn’t like every song you play, he realizes, but that’s only natural given how different they are from each other. he finds himself being drawn to the more emotional and moody ones, but he can’t help but enjoy the way you quietly sing and nod along to the more upbeat tunes.

as you continue to sit together, you begin to fiddle with your hair. you’re scoffing and loosening it for the umpteenth time before you’re about to give up, but beomgyu stops you.

“let me do it,” he says.

“do you know how?”

“i think i can. i’ve been watching you,” he says simply.

“... okay.”

you turn your back to him to give him access to your hair and he scoots closer to you. closer than you’ve ever been. his touch on your head is careful as he gently gathers your hair and begins to braid it. you’re not sure how much time passes because he’s actually quite slow, but it’s relaxing all the same. you find yourself softly humming to the tune of the song playing. the lyrics are a little dark, but you follow along in earnest, and beomgyu thinks he finally understands why people like music so much. for moments like this. he tries to soak up every detail he can, from the way the light hits your frame to the melody you hum, and he wishes this moment could last forever.

but you only have so much hair, so the moment does have to end, eventually. he ties up your hair and you pull out your phone camera to admire his handiwork. admittedly, it’s a lot better than anything you could’ve done. it seems that he’s a fast learner.

“this looks perfect! thanks, beoms,” you say warmly. he’s stunned for a second at the nickname.

“beoms?”

“yeah, like beomgyu. beoms,” you say with a casual shrug, and something in his chest blossoms. “i give all of my friends nicknames.” and something in his chest explodes at the title of “friend”.

“you do?” he asks excitedly.

“yeah. like, i call soobin ‘soobinie’ or ‘soobie’, sometimes,” you giggle, and the bloom of hope in his chest dies with it.

“are you two close?” he asks, even though he knows the answer will probably hurt him.

“very. he’s my best friend,” you answer fondly. oh. you’re beomgyu’s best friend — you’re beomgyu’s only friend, and tentatively at that. the idea that the deep connection he feels with you is even deeper with someone else, at least in your eyes, makes him feel sick. do you let soobin play with your hair? do you hum along to songs you’ve shown him while he does it? do you smile at him after he’s finished and compliment him on his skills? probably, probably, probably. the ugly feeling that was previously completely foreign to him now takes its usual place in his chest, and it makes his stomach hurt so much that if he could vomit, his metaphorical dinner would be all over the floor.

“oh,” is all he can say.

days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months, but every time beomgyu awakens, he finds you smiling up at him. this can’t be good for your bank account — he’s quite expensive to rent, after all — but he’s far too afraid to actually bring it up. what if you realize just how much money you’re sinking into him and want to stop renting him? what will he do if you don’t want him anymore? he feels an incomparable sense of dread at the thought.

he prepares to sit on the couch and watch something, listen to music, or even play a video game with you. you two have gotten into them recently, and he’s discovered that he very much enjoys playing with you, even when you’re yelling at him and demanding that he stop letting you win. he can’t help but grin when he thinks about it. you start playing a song, and you do, indeed, invite him to sit on the couch, but you don’t sit down next to him and start babbling away about your day like you usually would.

“do you think you could do me a favor?” you ask.

“what, do you want me to wash your dishes?” he jokes, and you share a laugh before you say your next words, but all laughter and joy is profusely sucked out of him when you say them.

“no, smartass, but can you braid my hair for me? i’m going over to soobin’s tonight, and i want it out of my way.”

“soobin’s?”

“yeah, it’s been a while since i’ve stayed the night, and he said we’re way past due for it,” you tell him, and the world as beomgyu knows it comes crashing down around him.

“you’re staying the night with him?”

“mhm. he’s right, it’s been too long; but don’t worry, i bought a pass so you can play video games online. there’s even a headset so you can talk to people, if you want. maybe you’ll even make some friends,” you say while playfully waggling your eyebrows. beomgyu’s silence is pensive, to say the very least, and you worry that he’s apprehensive of making a friend that isn't you.

“seriously, you might like it. it’ll be good for you to meet more people, honestly. i’m sure it’s driving you crazy to only have me to talk to,” you jokingly add, but to beomgyu, it’s the worst joke he’s ever heard. no, it does not drive him crazy to only talk to you every day. in fact, even though he’s not conscious during the time you spend away from each other, he thinks, deep down, that he still somehow misses you when you’re apart. and no, he does not think he needs to have anyone but you. you are more than enough for him, so how could you ever think he needs more? again, he is taunted by that same strange and implacable feeling he’s been having ever since he met you, yet he can’t quite put his finger on it, even when he nods and tells you that he’ll try making new friends.

but as he brushes out your hair and you sing along to the words:

"i’m glad i didn’t die before i met you

but now i don’t care

i could go anywhere with you

and i’d probably be happy"

he finally understands what that feeling is. that warm, all-consuming feeling. that feeling of comfort, safety, and unconditional understanding. that feeling of infinite curiosity about the other person. that feeling of wanting to known and be known in a way so profound it physically aches.

yes, as he gathers your hair and ever-so-gently twists it in his hands in preparation for you staying the night with a man you clearly prefer over him, the feeling becomes clear as day. love. what he feels for you is love — an emotion he should never be able to even fathom, yet he does.

and it makes him loathe himself to a degree he never thought he was capable of.

he’s so put off by this sentiment, he almost can’t finish the braid because his hands are shaking so much, but somehow, he finishes, anyway.

“are you done?” you ask as you fiddle with your hair and look back at him.

“mhm,” he replies.

“yay! thank you!” you say giddily.

“you’re welcome,” he mumbles. you’re not stupid, so you notice that something is off about him, but you just assume it’s because he’s nervous about being left alone to make new friends. you feel guilty in a certain sense, but it’ll be good for him to branch out and meet new people, so you tuck the feeling away as best as you can before packing your nightly essentials and getting ready to leave.

“i’ll be back tomorrow morning,” you tell him, and he only nods with his lips pursed, which makes your heart feel sour.

“try not to miss me too much,” you tease, but it doesn’t seem to cheer him up in the slightest.

“have fun,” he replies weakly, and your previously sour heart now kind of aches, but you have to do this for him. you can't always be beside him for everything, right? besides, it's only for the night.

you open the door to leave, but before you go, you turn back to him and he senses hesitation in you. before he can question it, you’re opening your arms, and his eyes widen when he realizes you’re inviting him in for a hug. you almost regret doing it as soon as you open them for fear of making him uncomfortable, but he embraces you before you have time to process such feelings. on beomgyu’s end, he has always been wary of touch for obvious reasons, but he gravitates towards your open arms like he was meant to be in them.

he rests his chin on the top of your head for a moment and you spend an unknown length of time just standing with your arms wrapped around each other.

“i’ll miss you,” you admit, and before you can smack yourself for being so dramatic and sentimental over what will ultimately only be one night, you can swear you feel his grip tightening even more around you.

eventually, you break away and look up at him with a smile. you ruffle his hair and promise to see him later, and he answers you with a nod. then, you're leaving and locking the door behind you.

immediately, beomgyu feels a sense of loss he’s never felt before. after all, to experience loss, you must have something worth losing in the first place, and he has never had anything like that. at least, not until you. so he stands at the door for who knows how long, just like a puppy waiting for his owner to get home.

soobin can sense you’re out of it before you even finish crossing through his doorway, and it puts a halt to your typically overdramatic greeting.

“what’s the matter? are you feeling okay?” he questions concernedly as he pulls you in for a hug. you nod before you break apart from him and walk through the threshold.

“y-yeah. it’s just, i don’t know, i guess i just feel bad about leaving beomgyu all by himself,” you tell him as you plop down on his couch.

“the android you’ve been renting?” he asks incredulously. “i’ve been meaning to ask you about that, actually. why’re you renting it so much? i barely even see you anymore. is the sex that good?”

“you know i don’t use androids like that,” you snap in annoyance, partially because he’s calling beomgyu “it”.

“i know, which is why i’m so confused. why rent it in the first place if you’re not getting anything out of it?”

you struggle to answer his question. you promised beomgyu you’d keep his secret, but you trust soobin, and you know he won’t judge him, or worse, report him. besides, it’ll be good to have an unbiased third party weigh in on the situation. with this in mind, you tell him about beomgyu, skipping over some of the more personal details. he’s in disbelief at first and actually thinks you’re just fucking with him, but as you tell him more and more about the time you’ve spent together, his smile falls and his face turns serious.

“so that’s why i feel so guilty about leaving him alone,” you finish with a deep sigh. he’s silent for a few moments before collecting his thoughts.

“god, i can’t believe this is actually happening,” he whispers.

“i know. it’s insane, but it’s true. he’s just so… human. you should've seen the way he looked at me when i told him i was leaving. i don’t think i’ve ever seen anyone look so sad before.”

“well, you’re right about him needing to make friends,” he says with a nod, and it validates all of your misgivings about leaving him alone. “but don’t you think you should, i don’t know, think about what all of this means?”

“what do you mean?” you ask, and in that moment, he knows you have no idea about the way beomgyu probably feels about you. he’s not 100% confident in his deductions, but the way you describe how beomgyu acts around you pretty much tells him everything he needs to know.

“i mean, you basically have a completely sentient creature who relies on you for everything. if he’s as human as you say he is, then he can probably feel everything that we do. right now, i’d guess that he feels like you’re all he knows.” and the sneaking sense of guilt that was previously threatening to creep up on you is now completely overwhelming. you’re all he knows. and you left him all alone to fend for himself and make his own friends. yes, he needs to learn how to make connections, but how could you expect him to know how to do that? it took weeks for him to finally seem comfortable around you, so how could he possibly know how to make them on his own? moreover, even though it's nothing to you, you're his entire world. he must feel like you abandoned him.

“i’ve gotta go,” you mumble.

“what?” he asks.

“i–i’ve gotta go home,” you repeat as you hurriedly stand up and hug him goodbye.

“wait! i think you should —”

“love you, bye!” you shout as you book it out of the doorway.

when you return home, you open the door to see beomgyu listlessly staring at the television screen. when he hears you, he turns to look at you with watery eyes. he looks so lost in this moment, and all of your suspicions are confirmed.

“beoms, i am so sorry,” you tell him as you rush over and throw your arms around him.

“for what?” he asks with a gulp as he stays in your embrace, shakily wrapping his arms around your waist.

“i’m sorry for leaving you all by yourself. i thought it was just for one night, so it’d be alright, but you don’t have anyone but me right now; and i realize that it’s unfair for me to expect you to meet other people all on your own when you’ve never had to do it before. if you want friends, i’ll help you, okay? i’ll be there with you as you do it,” you tell him, and you feel his body trembling.

“i-i’m sorry. i know it’s not a big deal, but when you’re not with me, i feel so scared. i… i don’t know how to do anything by myself. i’m s-sorry i need you so much,” he whispers, and your heart breaks.

“don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “how about this: i’ll join you online and we can talk to people together. then, when you’re ready, you can start hanging out with my friends in person, too, okay? we can keep going until you don’t need me anymore.” beomgyu outwardly agrees, which seems to put you at ease, but there’s just one issue: he’ll always need you.

gaming online is actually really fun, but making friends is hard for someone like beomgyu. he’s quiet and a little awkward at first, but after a few nights and with your help, he finally warms up to the people he games with. he gets so comfortable, in fact, that he’s even able to shit talk with them a little.

“fuckkk, that’s so unfair!” his new friend, kai, wails over the headset.

“it’s not unfair, you just suck,” beomgyu chuckles, and kai whines again. you laugh at their interaction before kai continues.

“how are you so fucking good at this game? you’ve only been playing for a few nights, and you’re already better than me!” he pouts.

“i’m just gifted,” beomgyu boasts.

“very true,” you add, and he beams, but kai’s next words throw him off-kilter.

“whatever. stop asking your girlfriend to argue with me — you two make me sick,” he jokes with his signature maniacal laugh, but the two of you are too stunned to laugh along. you look at each other in sheer embarrassment, and you can see beomgyu’s ears turning bright pink beneath his blond hair. you’re not sure why you feel so mortified, but you do. this is beomgyu, for god’s sake. there’s no earthly way you could ever see him in anything other than a purely platonic way, so why does your heart feel uneasy at the notion? while you’re still too stunned to speak, beomgyu tries to pipe up and respond.

“sh-she’s — we’re not, uh —”

“damn it!” kai yells as his character dies yet again, and any momentum beomgyu previously had to clear up the misunderstanding is killed stone dead in its tracks.

he turns to look at you unsurely, but the awkward moment seems to have passed for you as you laugh at kai’s character’s death. if only he could be as unfazed.

after kai goes offline, you two decide to quit gaming for the night. you turn to beomgyu nervously, and he immediately knows that you’re going to say something serious. he hopes beyond hope that it’s not about what kai said.

“can i ask you something?” and his heart sinks. oh god, you probably caught onto his feelings. he’s not sure he has the confidence to tell the truth, but how could he lie to you?

“y-yes,” he replies, voice a bit unsteady.

“okay, you can say no if you want, but soobin invited us to a get together he’s having pretty soon. it’s not anything too crazy, so there’ll only be a few of us. i think it’ll be a good start for you. maybe you’ll even make some new friends, you know?” he’s silent at your words just out of sheer shock. he’d definitely missed the mark when guessing your intentions.

“it’s okay to say no,” you hurriedly add, “but my friends are really nice, and i’d be with you the entire time. even if you don’t talk to anybody, you can talk to me.”

“okay,” he agrees before he can even really think about it. he guesses he’s just relieved that you still don’t know about his feelings, but part of him aches even still.

“really?” you ask incredulously. “oh my god! i have to tell soobin — he’ll be so excited!” you babble, and his lips curl upwards at how happy you are. he wishes he could always make you happy like this, and it seems that he’d agree to absolutely anything if you were the one asking.

work has been especially taxing today, which is nothing new, but you have this insatiable suspicion that something feels… off as you finish up for the day. as you’re about to head out for the night, you wonder what beomgyu will want to do once you get home. maybe he’ll want to play games with kai, or maybe he’ll want to watch a movie with you. maybe he’ll let you cuddle up to him for warmth, which he’s been very willing to do, lately. the unspoken rule that you two will never touch has become blurry for some reason, but you’re pretty touchy with all of your friends, so it only feels like a matter of course to you.

you’re thinking about all of the potential ways tonight could play out when it hits you: you didn’t reserve beomgyu. you spit out a curse and hurriedly take out your phone to book him, but it’s too late. he’s already assigned to someone for the night. fuck.

when you get home, you’re anxious beyond belief. you haven’t spent a night without beomgyu in months, but more importantly, he hasn’t spent a night without you. you try not to think about how scared he will be when he’s powered on in a stranger’s home. you hope he’s able to just switch back to his initial programming, but somehow, you just know it won’t be that easy. you feel sick with worry when you think about how someone so human will have to involuntarily turn his feelings off and pretend to enjoy something he’s being forced to do — with no compensation, no less. he must think you abandoned him. he must think you don’t care about him. how could you forget to reserve him when he needs you so much? fuck how busy you were with work, his wellbeing should have been your first priority.

so you sit and watch the hours tick by. you try to relax. you try to tell yourself it’s only for one night, and he’s been doing it for years, but something just feels wrong, wrong, wrong. you’re about to try to force yourself to go to sleep so the night ends more quickly when you hear a rapid knocking on your door. it’s strange for someone to call on you so late, indeed, but when you look through your peephole, you see none other than the very boy you’ve been worrying about.

“beomgyu?” you say incredulously when you swing open the door. immediately, he embraces you, and you feel hot tears streaming down your neck as he nuzzles his face into it. you hold him as best as you can as you rub circles into his back and try to shush his cries.

“it’s okay, i’m here,” you tell him, and he whines. you try to break away to get a good look at him, but he just pulls you in even closer, as if you’re his only lifeline in this world, and in a way, you are.

after his breathing slows and his sobs die out, he reluctantly parts from you, so you hold his hand and lead him to your couch. his eyes are swollen and bloodshot while his nose is a bright pink, but he never once takes his eyes off of you for fear of letting you out of his sight. in his mind, you can’t leave as long as he can see you.

“are you alright?” you tentatively ask, hand still holding his and soothingly caressing it in an attempt to calm him down. he goes to nod before stopping himself and shaking his head in the negative. your eyes soften even more at the action.

“do you want to talk about what happened?” you try, and he nods before clearing his throat.

“i, um, i woke up and i was at this woman’s house. she… she wanted me to get undressed, but i didn’t want to, so she started doing it for me.” you wince at his words, but he’s not finished yet.

“she kept touching me, and it was so disgusting i just — i just couldn't stand it, so i ran away and came here. i don’t mean to make your life harder, and i won’t ask for you to stay the night with me anymore, but if you could just let me stay here, i promise i’ll learn how to clean or do anything you want. please, just don’t make me —”

“beomgyu, stop it,” you say softly, but firmly. “you are not making my life harder. you can stay here as much as you want and do whatever you want while you’re here. i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean for this to happen. i was just so busy with work, and by the time i realized it, somebody had already booked you. i promise you that it’ll never happen again, okay? so you don't have to be afraid. i’m not leaving you, and i won’t let anyone hurt you, either.”

you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone look so relieved before. it looks as though you just saved his life, and to beomgyu, you essentially did. he holds your hand even tighter, as if you’re the only thing keeping him from falling off the face of this planet.

“wait here, i’ll get you some clothes,” you say gently, but as you go to leave, he holds you even tighter. your eyebrow quirks in a silent question at his actions, and he looks sheepish for a moment before saying his next words.

“c-can we just stay like this for a bit? just for a little while? i’m still scared,” he mumbles, and your heart melts.

“of course. come here,” you beckon, and he falls into your arms and rests his head on your shoulder, breathing your scent in as he tries to imprint this moment into his hardware. you stay like that for a while before you finally convince him to change out of his uncomfortable clothes. he reluctantly lets you go, and his eyes follow you everywhere you walk.

that night, you stay up later than usual to spend more time with him. he stays glued to your side and ensures that he’s always touching you in some way, which is endearing in a way you can’t seem to put into words. when you’re about to head to bed for the night, you swear you hear him whimper, but he lets you go, anyway. as you lay your head down and get comfortable under the covers, you hear a timid knocking on your door. you call him in, and his gaze shyly flickers between you and the floor.

“c-can i stay with you tonight? i won’t bother you, i swear. it’s just — i just still feel weird. y-you can say no! i just thought that —”

“come here,” you softly interrupt, and he doesn’t hesitate to listen. he closes the door behind him and shuffles towards you, stopping uncertainly at the edge of the bed in a silent plea for permission to enter it. you feel a weird, warm feeling in your chest when he does it. you scoot over and pat the open space next to you before he gathers enough courage to slide in. you cover him with your blanket, and he stiffly accepts it. you giggle at his awkwardness and cuddle up to him, placing your arms around his waist before thinking better of it. how could you just invade his personal space when he’s clearly traumatized? you go to remove your arms and scoot away before he firmly locks you in place.

“it’s okay,” he whispers, settling himself into your embrace and mindlessly toying with the ends of your hair.

“are you sure?” you ask.

“i’m sure.”

it isn't long before beomgyu hears your breathing slow down, and eventually he hears you begin to snore. he smiles at the sound. he can't really sleep, but he's perfectly content with watching you rest. he continues to play with your hair, and you nuzzle into his touch every so often. he doesn’t want to repeat the events leading up to tonight, but he would do it all over again — any number of times — with a smile on his face if it meant he got to be with you like this again.

the next morning, beomgyu waits for the usual delivery guy from the company to pick him up, but it’s currently way past the usual pickup time. he’s most certainly not complaining, but you don’t seem even remotely fazed by the matter. however, while you’re casually flipping through your streaming catalog literal hours after he’d already be gone, he can’t stop himself from asking:

“um, d-do you know when i’m being picked up?” you pause, and he worries that he may have said the wrong thing before you turn to him.

“do you want to be picked up?” you ask solemnly.

“n-no! of course not. it’s just, you know, i’d usually be gone by now, so i —”

“do you want to stay here? with me, i mean,” you interrupt.

“i… i do,” he replies with a gulp. usually, that’d be all you get from him, but it feels like the perfect opportunity to be honest about his feelings. “i always want to stay with you, but i know i’m expensive, and i don’t want to be a bother.” he looks ashamed as he admits it, but if he had the courage to look in your eyes, he’d note the fondness that lies within them.

“i told you that you’re not a bother to me. i also told you that you could stay here for as long as you want, remember?” and he does, so he nods.

“alright. i meant it when i said it last night, and i mean it now. if you want to be here, you can stay for as long as you’d like. you don't have to worry about your owners anymore, i promise.” and he thinks he’s never seen you as serious as you are now. he wonders what you mean before it dawns on him.

“you… did you buy me?” he asks in disbelief.

“y-yeah. i’m sorry, it sounds so gross when i hear it out loud, but that doesn’t mean that i own you or anything. what i really wanted to buy was your freedom, so you can stay as long as you want, but that also means that you can leave whenever you want, too.”

“i’m so sorry,” he says in a hushed, hurried tone. “i know i'm expensive. i’m really sorry.”

“money is not an object to me,” you dismiss in faux arrogance with a wave of your hand in hopes that it’ll lighten the mood, but beomgyu can’t stop the tears from falling over his waterlines, and you’re afraid your attempt to help him only made him feel more indebted to you. all worry is promptly washed away when you feel him pull you into his arms.

“thank you,” he just barely breathes out. “i don’t know how i’ll ever pay you back, but i’ll try, i swear.”

“you don’t have to do anything for me, beoms. i should’ve done it a lot sooner, but i’m just a little slow, i guess,” you muse, and he chuckles softly into your neck.

sleeping with beomgyu should’ve only happened once, but every night when you say you’re heading to bed, he looks at you with puppy eyes and you find yourself inviting him to come along. each time, he looks so excited that if he had a tail, it would most certainly be wagging. he obediently follows you to your room and settles into the empty space next to you before holding you in his arms as you drift off. he’s even taken to humming the tunes of songs he likes when you struggle to settle down, and his baritone voice lulls you to sleep like a charm every time. he spends his time by just looking at you and trying to reconcile with his new reality. this is real. he gets to spend however many nights he wants next to you, as per your own words. even if you didn’t mean them, he plans to take them seriously. he is perfectly content with spending the rest of his life just sleeping with you, looking at you, being with you.

soobin’s get together is tonight, and you look different than usual. your typical look is very casual, which makes sense because you’re only ever at home when you’re with him, but you are now primped and ready to be seen, and it makes him anxious because you look even more lovable. he knows these people are your friends, so they must’ve seen you dressed up before, but that only makes him all the more uneasy; they know a side of you he is only now seeing, and it makes that same old ugly feeling he's grown so accustomed to sprout in his chest.

when you arrive at soobin’s place, the first thing you do when soobin swings open the door is jump in his arms like you didn’t just see him a week ago. he spins you around with a dimpled grin that’s so sincere, beomgyu feels emotionally decimated by it. you both giggle as you break apart, and the jealousy beomgyu feels brewing within feels unpacifiable.

“is this beomgyu?” soobin asks, grin still very much apparent.

“yes! you’re gonna love him,” you answer giddily.

“it’s nice to meet you,” soobin says warmly while stretching out his hand, which beomgyu awkwardly shakes while he tries to force his lips to curl upwards in what he prays is a believable smile.

“nice to meet you,” he mumbles.

“everyone’s already here, but you’re late as always,” soobin playfully chastises, and you pout in response.

everyone greets you when you walk in, mostly by hugging you and lightheartedly scolding you for not coming out anymore. they’re very clearly bantering with you, but each reproach feels like a knife to beomgyu’s heart. he’s the reason you haven’t seen them in so long.

clueless to it all, you introduce him as your friend to everyone, which only makes him feel worse, somehow. he is just one friend out of many, meanwhile you’re his entire world. you’re far too caught up in the joy of seeing some of your favorite people after so long to notice his dismay, however.

you lead him to soobin’s couch to have a seat with you and one of your friends, taehyun maybe, offers him a drink, to which he awkwardly declines. you quickly follow up with something to the effect of “he isn’t much of a drinker,” and beomgyu nods in affirmation. you try your best to include beomgyu in conversation, but they’re all talking about people and places he doesn't know. all he knows is you, and the world you two built together seems smaller and smaller with every new topic of conversation.

he notices that soobin seems to be eyeing him somewhat strangely, though he tries his best to play it off. he could just attribute it to surface level curiosity, but his intuition tells him it’s much deeper than that. is soobin sizing up his competition? maybe so, but there’s not much to see. beomgyu is handsome, and he knows it, but soobin knows a side of you beomgyu has only ever heard stories about. you’ve told him about your friends and the goings on between you and your coworkers, but it pales in comparison to actually meeting them. he makes an internal note to ask even more questions than he usually does the next time you’re telling him about your day. until then, he sits as close to you as humanly possible and clings onto your arm, which is so second nature to you, you don't even notice that he’s doing it.

soobin, who is usually not the inquisitive type, can’t help but question the dynamic between you and beomgyu. at first, the lingering glances and intimate gestures were innocuous enough to be written off as mere friendliness, but when you whisper something in beomgyu’s ear and he flushes a bright pink, soobin knows he can’t ignore it any longer. he especially can’t ignore it when you turn away from beomgyu and he raises a hand to the ear you just whispered into as if he’s reliving the moment. well, time to test his theory.

soobin slides into the open cushion next to you and begins excitedly chattering about how pretty you look tonight, and he even takes your braided hair into his hands and twirls it between his fingers.

“your hair looks pretty,” he muses.

“beomgyu did it, actually,” you grin, and soobin glances over to said boy, who is currently glaring daggers at him. the look in beomgyu’s eyes is so intense, he almost wants to back off, but he has to get to the bottom of this.

“did he? you know, it’s been a while since you stayed over. wanna have a sleepover tonight? you have some clothes here from last time, and we can cuddle, i know you like that,” he says as innocently as he possibly can.

before you can even reply, beomgyu is slamming his hands on the coffee table. you turn to face him in surprise, and the look on his face is the angriest you’ve ever seen him. his eyes are dark and his nostrils are flared as he heavily breathes. he’s never been angry at all in front of you, actually, so to say you’re taken aback is the understatement of the century.

“beoms? what’s wrong?” you ask concernedly, completely turning away from soobin. your voice is enough to somewhat placate him, but before he can fully calm down, soobin is saying his next words.

“i’m sure he’s fine. beomgyu, you can find your way home tonight on your own, can’t you?” beomgyu is positively seething at this. before you can question him again, he’s gripping your hand so tightly it’s like it’s the only thing keeping him from drowning, so you excuse the both of you and drag him to the bathroom for some privacy.

“are you alright?” you ask, frantically scanning his figure for some sort of sign of pain or discomfort.

“i-i’m fine, i just, uh, i don’t feel good,” he says flatly.

“what’s wrong? is it too much? do we need to go home?” he’s so flustered, he barely registers that you’re calling your house “home”, but he still notices it in spite of everything, and it’s like a balm on his aching heart.

“y-yeah, can we go home? please?” he pleads, and you hurriedly nod.

“of course, just let me say bye to everyone before we leave, okay?” and he wants to say no, but he’s as weak as ever in front of you, so he relents.

that doesn’t stop him from gripping your hand, though, as you say goodbye to everyone. you go to give soobin your usual hug, but beomgyu pulls you back to him even more tightly. you write it off as him not feeling well and just wanting to leave as soon as possible, to which you oblige, and before you know it, you two are scurrying out of soobin’s place like there’s something chasing you.

as you’re driving home, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket, but it isn’t until you’re walking through your doorway that you check it.

soobie: we need to talk. call me as soon as you get home

you’re worried beyond belief at his serious tone, so you tell beomgyu that you’ve got to make a call before ducking into your bedroom. you don’t shut the door behind you, because why would you?

you quickly call soobin and the line connects after just one ring.

“what’s wrong?” you ask anxiously, and soobin just sighs, which makes you all the more anxious.

“we have to talk about beomgyu.”

“beomgyu? what about him? is something wrong?” you question.

“yeah, i mean, maybe. this might sound crazy, but i think — i know — he likes you.” you’re stunned silly for just a moment before bursting into laughter.

“likes me? what the hell are you talking about?” you dismiss, and you sense his agitation even through the phone.

“i’m serious. i had a feeling before, but tonight just confirmed it. he likes you.” you’re silent for a moment, just trying to process his words, but once your mind somewhat clears, you can’t help but deny, deny, deny.

“you’re wrong. it’s not like that at all. i’m just the first person who’s ever treated him nicely, and i —”

“you’re not listening,” he cuts in irritatedly. “he looked like he wanted to skin me alive tonight. how else do you explain that?”

“soobie,” you sigh. “you’ve got it all wrong. maybe you’re right and maybe he was feeling insecure, but that’s probably because i’m the only person he knows. he most likely just felt like you were stealing my attention away.”

“you’re always so dense about these things, you know?” he groans. “okay, look, i’m not sure how they came about, but i do know that he has feelings for you. maybe it started out as dependence, i’m not sure, but it’s definitely much more than that now.”

“that’s impossible,” you snort, actually feeling a bit impatient now. how could he possibly think that your relationship with beomgyu was anything other than platonic?

“why? because he’s a robot?” oh, that shuts you up. “just think about it. if he were a human, would you still be saying the same thing? like i said before, if he’s as human as you say he is, he can feel the same way we do, and he’s definitely capable of feeling love, too.” you are, again, stunned into silence. suddenly, as if there was a fog that covered your brain before, things that you never really considered become clear to you. the soft touches, the gentleness. sleeping in the same bed and waiting for you to get home. wanting you — needing you — around all the time. the way he plays with your hair. the way he’s so interested in everything you have to say. the clinginess, the dependence. it all makes so much more sense to you.

“i —” you begin, but you just so happen to glance up and see beomgyu right outside of your doorway… looking absolutely devastated.

“i’ve gotta go,” you tell soobin as you hang up, not even bothering to say your usual goodbye.

“beoms, did you hear us?” you ask tentatively, and he flinches a little bit before looking down at the floor and nodding.

you’re unsure of how to navigate this situation from here, but while you’re still trying to figure it out, beomgyu speaks.

“i-i’m so sorry,” he says hurriedly. “i understand if you don’t want me anymore.”

“w-what? no, i —”

“i’m just really sorry,” he says, looking as ashamed as a person ever could. “i know it’s wrong, i know it’s disgusting, but i —”

“beomgyu.”

“but i can’t help it. i wish i could, but i just can’t; and i understand if you want to return me or whatever, but if you could just —”

“beomgyu, stop it,” you interrupt firmly, no room for argument. he stares at you with defeated eyes, and you feel your heart break in two. “i am not disgusted, and i don’t want to return you.” his eyebrows furrow as if he doesn't quite understand, so you continue.

“your feelings are not disgusting to me, don’t ever say that again, okay? please? it makes me sad,” you plead, and he hesitantly nods. “i think it’s normal, actually. you don’t really know anybody else other than me, so of course you’re confused.”

“confused?” he asks incredulously, eyes snapping up to meet yours.

“confused,” you nod. “it'll change once you meet more people, i swear.” you try to smile reassuringly, but suddenly, you see tears welling up in beomgyu’s eyes.

“beoms?” you carefully try.

“i don't need to meet more people. i just need you,” he chokes out. “don't tell me i'm confused because i'm not. i-i'd rather you just say you don't want to be with me than tell me that.” your heart clenches at his words, but he continues.

“i just want to be with you, no one else,” he tells you desperately. “i can understand if you don't feel the same way, but i can't stand to hear you say i don’t love you, because i do. i really, really do.” and as if you're dissociating, your mind is bombarded by times where he's shown you this exact sentiment. again, you go back to every intimate moment you two have ever shared. it was easy to just chalk it up to his lack of experience, but when he's telling you that's not the case so earnestly, is it truly possible to still believe it’s nothing? after a while, you decide that it most certainly is not.

the question is: do you feel the same way? you try to put a name to the feelings you have when you’re with him. the trust you have, the understanding. the desire to share everything you know and like with him, no matter how mundane it may seem to others; and consequently, the endearment towards him when you see how eager he is to listen. more than that, the intimacy between you two. how you like waking up to him smiling down at you, and how when something happens, he’s the first one you want to tell, good or bad. how when you listen to new music, you feel excited at the prospect of sharing it with him.

you realize you want to know more about him, the happy things and even the sad things. why he is the way that he is, why he thinks the way he thinks. the peace you feel when he’s running his fingers through your hair and holding you close when you watch the same film for the dozenth time. you try to picture a world where somebody else rented him. a world in which somebody else got to see him as soon as they wake up or as soon as they get home from a particularly grueling day at work, and you finally understand that you wouldn’t like that at all. but why? you’ve only ever thought of him as a friend, right? so why does it matter to you?

your eyes focus on beomgyu again, and you notice how utterly defeated he looks. his heart is on full display for you — and you alone — as tears stream freely down his pretty, doll-like face. are these tears just for you? you think so. is it safe to trust that these feelings he has for you are real? you’re not sure, but you want to. still, there’s something stopping you.

“i think… i think i feel the same way,” you admit, and his previously downtrodden appearance immediately lights up with hope. “but we shouldn’t.” and the words are like lead in your mouth.

“why not?” he asks, clearly distressed. you just gave him an inch, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take a mile. he never in a million years would have thought that you’d ever reciprocate his feelings, so he can’t just let them go so easily.

“i just… it’s just not something that i can —”

“is it because i’m an android?” he questions, voice teeming with self-loathing.

“n-no! i mean, we’re just so different,” you tell him, trying to skirt around the topic as best as you possibly can, but he won’t have it.

“whatever it is, i’ll change it. please? i can do anything,” he pleads.

“it’s not like that. i want to, but we can't. i-i'll get older. i won't look the same — i won't be the same,” and it’s embarrassing as hell to admit it out loud, but you mean it. beomgyu’s urgent gaze softens, and he inches closer to you before he’s standing before you. he reaches out to gently cup your face and tenderly pushes your hair behind your ears.

“and what about me?”

“what about you?” you scoff, but you don't pull away from his touch, though your eyes do dart away. “you’ll still be you, and i’ll be old and —”

“what about when my parts start creaking? what about when i don’t remember things like i’m supposed to? you’ll still love me then, right?” he asks, but he already knows, and your eyes snap back to his.

“th-that’s different. you can get repairs. i can’t —”

“then i won’t. you’ll get old and gray and i’ll get rundown and out-of-date. i don’t care what happens, as long as i’m with you.” you’re silent in the wake of his heavy words, so he quickly continues.

“you told me that when you love somebody, you’d do anything to be with them. you said you always find a way, and i want to find a way to be with you.” your heart simultaneously warms and aches at this sentiment.

you consider what it would be like to be with him. things would be difficult, yes, but not impossible. maybe you’ll come to regret it someday, but you don’t want to think about that right now. you feel like the luckiest girl in the world when you think of the fact that somebody so beautiful, inside and out, wants to be with you. you don't think you’ve done anything particularly special for him, but he still wants and accepts you for everything that you are and ever will be.

“okay,” you say shakily, and you finally recognize that his hands are still very much cupping your face, fingers lovingly rubbing against your cheeks. he smiles in pure relief at your answer, but he makes no move to break away his hold on you.

you notice how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips, and you decide you'll have mercy on him as you lean up to him and press a chaste kiss on his pouty lips before parting. he’s visibly red at the action, and you grin at how flustered he looks. on beomgyu’s end, he feels another bloom of excitement and swell of hope threatening to overcome him. when he looks at the playfulness in your eyes, he smiles even wider.

“i love you,” he whispers affectionately.

you pause before you tell him:

“i love you, too, beoms.”

that night, beomgyu is even clingier than usual. he sticks like gum to your side. when you head to sleep, he eagerly nestles in your bed and holds his arms wide open. you follow his lead and settle into his warm embrace. he sings you one of his favorite songs you’ve ever shown him. the last words you hear before you sink into sleep are:

“to die by your side

is such a heavenly way to die

to die by your side, well

the pleasure, the privilege is mine”

notes pt. 2: sfw work ends here!

you and beomgyu have been “together” for a few weeks now, so the relationship is still very new. surprisingly or not, things seem more or less the same. you guess you never realized just how intimate you two have always been until you put a label on things. the only tangible differences are that instead of just a mere hug when he greets you, he plants kisses all over your face before finding his ways to your lips. and when you’re watching movies or even just talking, he’ll steal a kiss or two. and when you head to bed, you know you can expect him to catch your lips like a man starved before you sleep. things get heated, sometimes, but they never lead to anything besides labored breaths and promises to calm himself down. you take his hesitancy as him wanting to take it slow and treasure your first time together, and you realize he still may be traumatized from the years he spent as a sexbot.

you have apologized to him for telling soobin his secret. you let him know your reasoning for telling him, and he accepted your apology quite graciously. honestly? he was never mad, and he tells you that very clearly, but you still feel somewhat guilty even when he says he understands. your guilt is only absolved when he says he’s thankful you told soobin because things may have never changed without his wise input. he says that he’s grateful to soobin for being a voice of reason in the face of your emotional density. you blushed when he told you this, and apologized for being so slow on the uptake, but he just assured you that he wouldn’t have you any other way, which made you love him even more, somehow.

you’re now about to go to soobin’s again for another get together with your friends. second time’s the charm, you cheekily told him when you brought it up, and he blushed in response. when you two walk through the doorway, everyone cheers. you greet everyone as usual, and beomgyu tries his best to keep his searing jealousy at bay, but his anxiety starts clawing at him as soobin seats himself next to you and asks you how you are.

you giggle and tell him you’re doing well, and he responds by updating you on his tumultuous work life. beomgyu immediately wonders why you haven’t told soobin about your new relationship. are you embarrassed to be seen with him? it’s not like he doesn’t understand, what with him technically being made out of wires and machinery. of course a human like you wouldn’t want to be seen with a metal man like him. you could have the entire world in your hands if you wanted, so what’s the point of playing pretend with a fake like him? maybe, if he were you, he’d be embarrassed, too. he likes to think that maybe you aren’t like that, but at the end of the day, how could you not be? he’s nothing more than a robot masquerading as the real thing.

his anxiety worsens the more in depth your conversation with soobin gets. you try to include him by briefly giving him context about the stories soobin tells, but he can’t stop himself from worrying. again, he feels like soobin is stealing you away from him, and his mood sours.

your other friends try to talk to him, too, but he’s very obviously in a bad mood as he watches you two continue to laugh together. when you finally do turn to beomgyu, you immediately notice how awful he looks.

“beoms? are you alright?” you ask gingerly, but beomgyu’s discomfort is not at all placated even at the term of endearment.

“‘m fine,” he mumbles, and you’re genuinely in shock at his change of attitude. soobin looks very concerned, but he excuses himself to get a drink so you two can work it out, though he has an inkling of an idea of what’s triggering beomgyu.

“what’s wrong with you?” you ask concernedly, but he shakes his head sulkily.

“do you wanna go home?” you offer, and he immediately nods. you look torn for a second, but when you see how sad he looks, you know you can’t deny him.

you say your goodbyes to your friends and apologize for leaving early, but everyone says they understand. soobin makes you promise to host the next get together, though, to which you happily agree.

the ride home is mostly silent, but you look over to beomgyu in concern every so often. you grab his hand and squeeze it in a way you hope is comforting, but he doesn’t look any better at all.

when you enter your house, you immediately head to your bedroom, and he follows you in silence. you sit on the bed and pat the space next to you.

“beoms, what’s the matter?” you ask pleadingly as you grab his hands, and his heart, which was previously aching, is (a little) soothed by your concern.

“i-it’s nothing,” he answers, but you can tell that he’s lying because of the way he refuses to make eye contact with you.

“baby, i can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s wrong,” you say. you’re right, and he knows you’re right, but you’re already doing him the favor of a lifetime just by deigning to be with him. how could he dare to ask for more? he’s ashamed at the thought, but you look so sincere, and he knows in his metaphorical heart that he needs to be able to communicate with you if you two are going to have any shot at a lasting relationship.

“i-i’m just j-jealous,” he sputters.

“oh, baby, why?” you ask.

“because i’m not like you,” he admits after a pause. “i already feel like i’m not good enough for you, so seeing you with someone who actually is makes me feel awful.”

“who? soobin?” and you’re absolutely petrified when he sheepishly nods.

“honey, it’s not like that at all,” you tell him. “we’re just friends, i promise.”

“but it would be so much easier to be with him. you wouldn’t have to be ashamed about telling everyone you’re with an android,” he argues.

“beomgyu, i am not ashamed of you. i just wasn’t sure if you felt comfortable with me telling everyone. if you want me to tell them, i’ll happily do it. you’re so good, how could i ever be embarrassed of you?” his eyes soften.

“do you mean it?” he asks, and you nod.

“do i not show it enough? how much i love you, i mean.” he furiously shakes his head no, but you know it’s a lie. beomgyu himself will admit that he needs more validation than most people, and it’s going to take him a while to ever get over it because of his own issues. that doesn’t mean you can’t try to help him, though, so you brush his cheek with your hands before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

“does this make you feel better?” you ask after you pull away, but he still looks somewhat depressed, so you pull him in again before pressing your lips against his. this time, you swipe your tongue on his pout, which makes him gasp. you tease your tongue against his and electricity thrums between you two when you do it. he reciprocates your enthusiasm immediately, and before long, you’re both sucking and teasing each other until you’re out of breath.

you pull away again and rest your forehead against his.

“better?” you question.

“a little,” he says. “m-maybe a little more?” you grin at his coquettishness, and you go in for another kiss. your tongues tangle, but you don’t stop there. your mouth travels, peppering kisses down his jaw to his sensitive neck. he shivers at the contact when you swipe your tongue over his unmarred skin before lightly sucking. he lets out a broken moan when you do it, and it reverberates throughout your entire body and straight to your core.

“better?” you ask again.

“m-more,” he pants.

“anything you want, baby,” you tease before your lips hungrily capture his. one of your hands snakes its way up his shirt, and he gasps when you roll his hardened nipple between your fingers. beomgyu is more sensitive than most people, as is the nature of his model, so every little touch drives him crazy.

you seem to have noticed this, so when your other hand palms his hardened length through his sweatpants and he almost screams, you have to bite back a giggle.

“d-don’t tease,” he begs, and you’d do anything for beomgyu, really, but not this time.

you palm him even more harshly and his breath catches in his throat.

“more?” you ask, and he fervently nods. you oblige, sliding your hand under his waistband and teasing the sensitive skin around his length. your fingers brush against it every so often, and he involuntarily bucks every time you do.

“c-can i touch you?” he practically implores.

“of course, my love,” you tell him as you remove your devious hands and pull your top off before unclipping your bra.

his mouth waters when he sees you, and you can see him gulp almost comically as his big hands meet your breasts. he copies your movement from earlier, rolling your sensitive buds between his very clearly experienced fingers. you let out a contented sigh at the action, but you won’t let this be all about you, so your hand sneaks it way back down his pants. this time, you grab his girthy cock and give it a harsh tug. his actions stutter, and you smirk devilishly at how fucked out he is when the fun part hasn’t even begun.

you pull at his waistband, and he eagerly tugs his pants and boxers off as soon you do it. he even goes as far as to tear his t-shirt off over his head before he pulls your half-naked body flush against his, falling onto the bed as he desperately kisses you for everything that you’re worth. eventually, he situates himself on top of you, rutting his thick, long cock onto your still clothed thigh. you didn’t really get a chance to get a good look at him before, but you’re able to look down at him now, and you realize his dick is gorgeous. just like every other part of him. it stands tall, blushing profusely at the tip and practically weeping precum. it’s a bit hooked, too, no doubt to elicit the most pleasure out of his clients. your pussy is drenched just thinking about how it’ll feel when it’s inside of you.

he almost rips your bottoms off of you and his mouth waters even more at the sight of your pussy, all slick and glistening in anticipation for what’s to come.

“so gorgeous,” he whispers as he prepares to lay himself between your legs, but you hook them around his waist before he can do so. tonight will be all about him, you’ve decided, so you tug him closer and put one of his pretty nipples in your mouth, swirling your tongue on it and occasionally nipping at the sensitive skin. your other hand continues to tweak the other one before you alternate between the two, causing him to let out a low, guttural groan.

eventually, he goes in for another kiss, all tongue and teeth and saliva, and you take one of your hands and harshly clench around the base of his throbbing cock.

“is this what you needed, beoms?” you tease, and he nods pathetically as you tug again, harder this time, and let your hands stroke all the way up to his reddened tip. your thumb glides over his slit, and he’s seeing stars.

“i don’t know why you’re so jealous of someone else, my love. you’re so perfect,” you praise, and his ears get even redder, somehow, in spite of the situation you’re both in.

“i — nghh — i don’t like when you’re with him,” he pants, in spite of everything you're doing to him. “only want you with me.”

“oh, baby, you have me,” you coo. “always.” and with that, you begin to feverishly jerk him off with one hand while the other returns to his nipple. his hips buck with every movement, and his eyes are screwed shut. you can tell he’s about to come before you completely take your hands off of him.

“n-no! w-why?” he asks with a crack in his voice, watery eyes shooting open at the sudden action.

“don’t you wanna come in my pussy, instead? it’s warmer and wetter than my hand,” you ask with faux innocence with a tilt of your head, and his previously aggrieved demeanor morphs back into pure lust.

“that’s what i thought,” you giggle as you grab his length and rub it against your slickness. he groans at the feeling, but you don’t immediately take him in, opting to instead roll your hips up, just barely letting his flared head catch against your entrance.

“baby, please,” he whines, and with a smirk, you finally wrap your legs around his waist and line him up with your entrance. you just barely take the tip in, easing it into your pussy, before you force him out again. he gasps raggedly at how tight you are, and he’s wound up so much, he feels like he’s on the brink of exploding. he’s about to take matters into his own hands before you guide him back inside of you, and he feels your walls struggling to accommodate him.

“s-so tight! h-how are you so tight?” he hisses, eyes reddened and face strained, but you’re far too busy with the euphoric feeling of him finally inside of you to reply. he eases in inch after throbbing inch, and it is a snug fit, indeed. he almost wonders if he’ll even fit, but though the stretch burns you, the pleasure is too great to ignore. finally, your walls slightly relax, and he’s able to completely sheath himself in you. you both moan as his tip pulsates against your cervix, and he considerately gives you time to adjust, walls contracting wildly around him, before he attempts to pull out and really begin.

“stop,” you command before he can do so, and his eyes fill with worry at your words.

“w-what’s wrong?” he stutters.

“oh, nothing,” you say between pants. “i just want to see how long you can last.”

“w-what do you —”

and you interrupt him with a kiss. he ravenously reciprocates it, and he can’t help but unconsciously thrust his hips, tapping deliciously on the deepest parts of you, but you prevent him from ever fully pulling out. you tangle one of your hands through his hair and grip it — not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him groan into your mouth.

“c-can i move?” he pleads, but you shake your head no.

“why?” he whimpers, but you just smirk as you kiss him again and bite his bottom lip.

he doesn’t know how long you two stay like that, but it’s far too long for his liking. he feels his dick swell, and you still refuse to let him move, but you teasingly scrape your fingers against his balls and it’s all he can do not to come.

“p-please let me move, it hurts,” he cries, tears now flowing from his eyes. for once, sex is all about beomgyu and what feels good to him. he could cry just from the sentiment alone, but his current tears are the direct result of how you’re teasing him.

“and where does it hurt, baby? use your words, i know you can.”

“h-hurts, my c-cock hurts,” he sputters out.

“and would pounding my pussy make you feel better?” you goad, and he whines even louder at the imagery.

“y-yes,” he sobs, and you smile as you say your next words.

“such a good boy. you can move.” and that’s all it takes, really, before he’s pulling out despite your cunt’s attempts to suck him back in, and ramming himself back inside of you again and again.

the curve of his cock hits places previously untouched, and your walls spasm around him at the sensation.

“does it feel good, beoms?”

“s-so good,” he mumbles as drool pools off of his tongue and out of his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “so warm and t-tight.” you clench against your will at his filthy words, and it makes a strangled cry leave his throat.

“pussy so good, baby. your pussy is the b-best,” he babbles, and your lips meet his again before your mouth travels down, sucking a blooming hickey onto his neck. he trembles at the pain that comes with the pleasure, but somehow, he still has the presence of mind to roll his skilled fingers against your clit. just a few touches, and you already feel your orgasm approaching. he can feel every spasm of yours, and it makes his dick twitch inside of you as he wildly fucks you open.

he’s drilling into you so hard, you have to dig your fingernails into the skin of his back to keep yourself grounded. with each thrust, you feel more and more like you’re about to burst.

“gonna come!” you whine.

“do it, baby. c-come all over my cock,” he pleads.

“come inside? want it so bad,” you mewl.

“of course, my angel. a-anything for you,” he tells you as he tenderly brushes your hair out of your sweaty face, and he hammers himself into you at an inhuman pace as you feel the pressure in you crescendo into a searing hot orgasm. you clench even tighter around him while you come, gripping him so forcefully he can barely pull out, so his thrusts become sloppy and uncoordinated before he rams himself into you one last time and paints your inner walls with his cum.

you two stay like that for a while, just panting and basking in the feeling of closeness you feel. he presses a kiss on your forehead as he relaxes his arms and lays on top of you. you giggle at the intimacy and he finds himself sharing your laughter, your joy.

“you’re so beautiful,” he says between breaths, nuzzling his face into your neck and sighing. “i love you.”

“i love you, too, beoms,” you tell him, and you do love him. unconditionally.

notes pt. 3: :,) :,) :,)))))) i'm very sorry if this was disappointing but i hope it was worth it! i would love to hear your thoughts or answer any questions you may have about this fic/universe. feedback is needed to a disgusting degree bc i need validation to survive #sorry

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darkmatilda · 20 days ago

Text

𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when an unsub hunts their victims in a casino, choosing couples that fit a specific pattern, spencer has no choice but to once again ask his friend for a little favor.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!female reader, undercover as a couple, reader wearing a dress, header and summary FAKE AF bc literally casino scene is like 5% of a fic, the rest are just preparations, kind of like this friends episode where they're just getting ready lol

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4k

𝐚/𝐧: requested by @mggslover <33 u don't know this about me, but that ep with reid in the casino had me barking like a pack of german shepherds, so i just couldn't stop myself from adding it

"So, we already have a profile. The unsub is a man between twenty-five and thirty years old. A gambler who has lost his entire fortune, yet he still plays, desperately trying to surround himself with luxury, refusing to accept his reality. His victims are men just like him—young posers, living beyond their means. They all had partners, attractive and confident women who belonged to the social group they dreamed of, unaware of who they were really dating. The unsub probably used to date someone like that as well. By getting rid of them, he experiences a deep sense of purification. He believes he is killing the part of himself that he sees as false, when in reality, that part is his true self," Morgan recited, pacing in circles around the office, gripping a black marker in his hand—the same one he had just been using to write on the whiteboard.

Suddenly, he stopped and let out a chuckle. "I think I know what we need to do to catch him. It's actually pretty obvious."

Everyone watched him with intrigued expressions. Usually, it was another team member who had these sudden bursts of verbosity, but that didn’t mean the others were immune to them from time to time. For the sake of maintaining balance in the universe.

"Enlighten us, then," Prentiss urged him, perching slightly on the edge of the table with her arms crossed over her chest.

Morgan spread his arms as if accepting a challenge. He paused for a moment, as if building suspense, then stated simply:

"Undercover agents who fit the profile of his victims."

His gaze swept over the team members, observing their reactions. Everyone focused on his idea, weighing the chances of success.

Reid noticed the concentration on their faces—right at the moment when his eyes accidentally met Morgan’s, who had been watching him for quite some time. He didn’t even have the chance to sigh before his friend asked the question Spencer knew was coming.

"You know how to play poker, right, Reid?"

"Well, turns out I’m banned from casinos in Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Pahrump for card counting..."

"So that’s a yes," Morgan cut him off, nodding in satisfaction. He looked fully committed to his plan—determined to see it through and catch the unsub. "Alright, great. That leaves us with two things."

He paused dramatically. Prentiss arched a brow.

"Go on, enlighten us again."

"One of them is money," Spencer guessed without difficulty.

Morgan waved a hand dismissively. "Rossi’s got it covered."

"Oh, do I now?" Rossi leaned back in his chair, giving Morgan a pointed look. "Did it ever occur to you to ask me first? Do I look like some random ATM to you?"

"So Reid goes in as a potential target, looking for the unsub among the players," JJ cut in, slowly and logically summing everything up. "Makes sense. But there’s still one problem. Every victim had a partner. Without one, he won’t fit the profile."

It looked like he had been waiting for this to come up. The moment it did, he locked eyes with Reid without a word, certain that his friend would immediately understand what was going through his head.

Spencer remained still for a moment before shaking his head as realization hit him.

"I need to ask you for a favor."

“No way,” he scoffed. “No. Just no, this is—”

♠

Just some subtle foreshadowing.

Before those words were even spoken, Reid had to catch up to her first. And that was no easy task—she was making her way to her lab at an incredible speed, her elegant heels clicking sharply against the floor as she walked, nose buried in a stack of papers she was analyzing with deep concentration. She wasn’t even looking where she was going, something Spencer noted with a tinge of jealousy. If he attempted the same maneuver, he’d undoubtedly trip over the most random object right before the stairs, tumble down ten flights, take twenty people with him on the way, and, at the very end, someone would accidentally kick his broken body and spill their coffee on him. Black. No sugar.

She was walking so fast that he had to break into a light jog just to stay a step behind her.

"Hey," he tried to get her attention.

He was already embarrassed by how out of breath he was.

She didn’t stop, but she did slow her pace significantly. Instead of responding, she simply raised a finger, signaling for silence, and continued analyzing whatever it was she was analyzing.

Spencer sighed, irritated as always by her sense of superiority, and simply took the documents from her hands.

It was so unexpected that a startled, deeply offended sound escaped her lips.

"Can’t you see I’m a little busy?"

"This won’t take long. I just need to talk to you."

They both came to a halt. She folded her arms across her chest, raising a perfectly arched brow. Beneath her white lab coat was, as usual, an elegant outfit, and the rest of her appearance hardly needed describing—stunning, as always. Spencer would never admit it, not even for unlimited access to the Library of Alexandria, but every time he was within her orbit and his eyes landed on her, he had to blink and remind himself she was real. Even if they’d already seen each other multiple times that day.

She pressed her lips together, visibly impatient.

"You’ve got a minute. Two, if it’s something sufficiently interesting," she said, waiting for him to get to the point.

And the moment she did, Spencer’s slightly labored breathing from his earlier exertion became embarrassingly audible.

The corners of her lips curled into a smirk.

"Someone chasing you?"

"Actually, I need to ask you for a favor." He ignored the comment, hiding his embarrassment behind a mask of irritation. He sighed, partly to calm his breath, partly to prepare himself for the next words. While he thought the first part of Derek’s plan was good, the second, in his opinion, left much to be desired.

Any other agent could’ve gone with him—there were two or three in the team, counting Garcia. And she wasn’t even accustomed to fieldwork. She just happened to fit the profile they’d created. Incredibly attractive and confident to the point of being borderline cocky. Morgan had insisted on her, but when it came to convincing her, he’d passed it off to Spencer.

"If I remember right, and I’m pretty sure I do, you already owe me for checking that last piece of evidence. You really want to add another one to that?"

"No, but I’m afraid I don’t have much of a choice. So...would you pretend to be my partner while I play poker at the casino, and try to spot our current suspect among the other players?"

He figured it would be easier if he just said it outright.

The woman didn’t even flinch.

"Can you play poker?" she asked, eyeing him carefully. She scoffed. "I want to see that. Fine, let's do it."

Spencer's eyes went wide. He had a hundred arguments ready, but he didn’t expect her to agree so easily.

"What?" she asked, noticing his reaction.

"Just like that? No questions? Doesn’t it bother you that you'll have to pretend to be...my girlfriend?"

He shook his head.

He tried to sound as if it were something completely natural, just another surprising element of the job he encountered all the time. However, he couldn’t help but swallow at the end of his sentence, an entirely involuntary reflex, betraying the hint of nervousness that had settled inside him.

She took a step forward, closing the distance between them, stopping only when she was uncomfortably close, slightly tilting her chin up. Her expression remained unreadable, not even a hint of a mocking smile.

"I mean..." Reid began, but the thought he wanted to express got lost, his focus slipping. Of course, he got distracted. He broke eye contact, shifting his gaze to some random spot on the wall behind her, silently cursing his own reactions. When he looked back at her, he forced himself to maintain the illusion of normalcy. "What I meant is, this could be dangerous. After all, it's a serial killer. You don't have to agree to this if you're having doubts."

She didn’t seem at all disturbed or frightened. She barely shrugged.

"So what? You’ll be there too."

Deep down, he felt like someone had just handed him a medal for special services to the country and shaken his hand, congratulating him. He called himself an idiot and made a mental note to retake the IQ test sometime soon.

“So you trust me?” he asked, driven by some strange impulse.

She simply raised an eyebrow at him.

“Is there a dress code I need to follow?”

He felt like squeezing his eyes shut out of embarrassment. Instead, he just shook his head in denial.

“No…also…actually…no. Just be yourself.”

She nodded as well, and he had the feeling something shifted at the corners of her lips. A hint of a smile, maybe. Then she moved even closer. Surprised, Reid opened his mouth, and she reached for what he’d forgotten he was even holding—documents he’d almost torn from her hands earlier.

So that’s why she’d been so close.

“See you then,” she said, brushing past him toward the direction she’d been heading before he stopped her. The scent of her perfume wafted into his nostrils as she did. “We’ll see what kind of poker player you are.”

The urge to turn around over his shoulder was overwhelming. And to speak up, almost painful.

“The best,” he added.

“Do we look natural? You know, like a couple?” Spencer asked with concern.

There was something sweet in her laugh.

♠

His hand was stiffly resting on her waist, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't relax it. She, on the other hand, standing right next to him, touching him and fitting against his body like a puzzle piece, didn’t have the same problem. She sighed and took his hand, guiding it lower down her body to make it look like a natural position.

“Not at all,” Prentiss said bluntly, shaking her head.

“You look like siblings who were forced by their mom to pose together for a picture,” Morgan added, watching them with a hint of dread. It was starting to sink in that this plan had way less chance of success in reality than it did in his head.

“So that means no?”

“Of course, it means no, idiot,” the woman hissed at him. Suddenly, she stiffened, as if surrendering, and pulled away from him.

Spencer raised his hands in a defensive gesture, looking at his teammates. They’d met in the office that evening, the day before the planned operation. The unsub always struck on the same day of the week, so they had to wait for the right time. Their task was simply to practice pretending to be a couple. Sounded easy enough, right?

"I don't get why everyone's so upset!" he said, looking at them. "Is it really that weird that groping a colleague doesn't come naturally to me? I think, honestly, it’d be worse if the roles were reversed—"

"Not in this case, man," Morgan replied, shaking his head. He rubbed his forehead and straightened up, as if washing his hands of the whole thing. "I’m exhausted. You two can practice this on your own. I don’t care how long it takes, you can sit here all night if you need to. Just remember, tomorrow you have to act like you’re dying to rip each other’s clothes off at any given moment."

Spencer felt warmth on the back of his neck. She rolled her eyes.

"And if it doesn’t work?" she asked. "What then? Can’t another agent take his place?" For a moment, she stared at Morgan before shrugging. "You, for example."

Spencer shot her a wounded look.

"Et tu, Brute…"

She glared at him.

"You want me to play Brutus with you?"

Meanwhile, Prentiss and Morgan had slipped out of the room, leaving them alone. Spencer sighed heavily. He was really starting to worry about the coming day and the undercover mission ahead. They both fell silent for a while, he rubbed his tired eyes and slowed his breathing, trying to rationalize it to himself.

"You know, I wouldn’t stress about it so much," he finally spoke up, glancing at her and her arms crossed over her chest. "I mean, tomorrow I’ll be sitting at the poker table, focused on the game, so I won’t be thinking about how to act natural. And because of that, it’ll be easier to actually act natural...you know what I mean?"

She probably knew what he meant, but that didn’t stop her from letting out a small snort at his convoluted explanation. Instead of answering, she stayed silent for a moment before slowly walking over to one of the chairs and dragging it to the center of the room.

She had to know Spencer was staring at her, completely puzzled by what she was doing, but she didn’t bother explaining herself. Letting go of the chair, she moved away and then gestured toward it with her hands, like she had just pulled a rabbit out of a hat during some magic show. Spencer felt like he was watching something exactly like that.

"Well, go ahead. Sit down," she said.

"What?"

"You said tomorrow you'd be sitting at the poker table and it’d be easier for you to focus. So, let’s see how true that is."

"That’s not exactly what I meant—"

"I’m not sitting here all night. I'm telling you that right now. So just sit down and let’s find out if this whole plan even has a chance of working. Because, right now, with your behavior, it doesn’t have any."

Reid remained still for a moment, almost holding his breath. She had hit a sensitive spot—the success of tomorrow's plan and catching the unsub. Reluctantly, he trudged over to the chair. He glanced at her. She urged him on with a look.

He sighed and sat down. As soon as he did, she settled herself—not anywhere else—but right on his lap.

Due to the surprise, he took a slightly too deep breath. Hearing this, she looked at him from beneath her raised eyebrows.

"Sure, keep reacting like that," she said, sarcastically. She adjusted herself, one hand resting on his shoulder. Once she was sitting comfortably, her soft body pressed against his, she moved her hand to the back of his neck, her fingertips brushing through his hair. "Very natural. Very convincing."

"We don't need to be that convincing."

"If we're going to draw the unsub's attention, then yes, we do. Otherwise, what's the point?" She scoffed. "So you can dig up your poker skills?"

"My poker skills are fine, I don't need to dig them up," he replied almost automatically.

"Confidence. I like it. Seriously. Just try to put it into something else. Into your partner, for example," she began, in a lecturing tone. As she spoke, her face was very close to his. She had an expressive face, moving it as she explained, and Spencer followed her every motion with his eyes, almost as if she were a medallion in the hands of a hypnotist. "According to the victim profile, you're supposed to be a bit insecure. And you know what insecure people do, especially in environments like this? They pretend to be confident. So do it. Hold me tighter, show those guys on the other side of the table..." She gestured behind her as if someone were actually there, "...that this beautiful woman is yours. And they can only look."

His own pulse was treacherous, thankfully she couldn't hear it. Spencer felt slightly dizzy, suddenly way too aware of how she was positioned on his lap, the scent of her, and the delicate brushing of her hair against his neck when she moved.

"There are no guys," he mumbled dumbly, not knowing what else to say.

She flicked him on the forehead.

"Then imagine them."

Spencer felt hyper-aware of the spot on his forehead where she had touched him. For a moment, he tore his gaze away from her, which was difficult when she was literally on top of him. He did it, though, to take a calmer breath before what he was about to do next.

He started by adjusting her on his lap. She might have been comfortable, but he certainly wasn't. He felt like she was about to slide right off him. He placed his hands on her waist—not like she was a delicate porcelain figure, though. Not that he grabbed her roughly or tightly. He just did it the right way. One of his arms wrapped around her for better stability. She watched him, almost without blinking, with genuine curiosity. The corners of her lips slowly turned upward.

For a moment, he disconnected from his thoughts, not worrying whether it looked natural for any imagined people. He just wanted them both to be comfortable.

"Is it better now?" he asked, not teasing, but with genuine curiosity.

He felt the muscle in her thigh move, the subtle tension rise as his hand rested on that part of her body. He relaxed his fingers, letting them cover most of its surface.

Her lips were slightly parted, her breath escaping in a soft, quiet rustle.

"Almost," she said.

Without breaking her gaze from his face, her hand found his, the one resting on her thigh, and guided it higher, increasing the pressure. Spencer had no idea how he was still managing to control his breath so perfectly. Maybe he was too dazed to focus on his own reactions. Maybe he'd surrendered to the situation, not overthinking it, just letting it flow. Where to? He didn't know. Where did he want it to go? He didn't know that either.

"Now," she began, releasing his hand from her grasp and sliding her fingers along his forearm. "Now it's perfect."

She shifted. Gently, probably an unintended twitch. The weight of her body lifted and then settled again, rising and falling on his lap, almost on his hips. The surface brushed against another surface. Body on body.

They were silent. Why were they silent?

If someone had asked him about the capital of Sri Lanka, he'd probably say Fidel Castro.

The emptiness that filled his mind almost embarrassed him, while she looked at him from under slightly raised lashes, her gaze as usual strong, seeming to pierce right through him. He had to break it, he had to stop this before the physical closeness pushed him into doing something foolish.

“So,” he began suddenly, throwing the words out before he'd even prepared the rest. He blinked, trying to focus. “Did you know that originally, poker was played with 20 cards, not 52 like it is now? In the earlier versions of the game, it was usually played with fewer people. It was only with the evolution of poker, and the rise in its popularity, that the full deck was gradually used, allowing for more variety in hands and more complex strategies.”

For a moment, she just looked at him in silence. He held her gaze, doing his best to stay composed. It wasn’t that he was denying his awkwardness—he was well aware of it. And he knew that if she didn’t get off him soon, things were going to get really out of hand.

She sighed and ruffled his hair, like she was petting a dog.

“It was almost perfect,” she murmured, shaking her head. She pointed at him with a warning finger before slowly moving off him. She didn’t seem affected at all, like the whole thing hadn’t fazed her one bit. At least not in the same way it had shaken him. “Tomorrow, no more talk like that, understood?"

Spencer nodded, completely agreeing.

The casino was a blend of intense red and deep gold, popping from nearly every corner. It also radiated from her—her dress and accessories made her look like a goddess dedicated to the place, reigning over it with authority.

♠

"So, there's something we forgot to discuss," she said as they made their way to the table. Spencer kept his gaze straight ahead, his arm around her, while she was looking at him, specifically his profile. She wasn’t watching her feet, clearly relying on his guidance. Lowering her voice, she leaned in. What from the outside might have seemed like a flirtatious whisper with a sly grin and fluttering eyelashes was, in fact, a serious question. "Do you want me to keep an eye out for your unsub while you're busy with the game?"

Reid shook his head.

"You’re not a profiler."

"Doesn't mean I can't tell when some guy's staring at me."

"Everyone stares at you."

She focused on his words, puffing her lips as if conceding the point.

"Fair point," she muttered, pulling her face away from his neck.

His words weren’t an exaggeration in the slightest. She really did have that effect on people, especially men, but not only them—like the sound of a siren, immediately drawing attention from all around. He felt almost strange walking arm in arm with someone like that. He didn’t know what kind of primal territorial instinct had awakened in him, but he felt the urge to pull her closer. He shook his head disapprovingly at his own thoughts, and she tilted her head at him, questioning. Nothing, he mouthed silently.

He didn’t need to do that, pull her closer, of course. They quickly took their seats at the table where the game was about to begin. She lowered herself onto his lap just as they had practiced the day before. Thank God they had done that. Otherwise, his mind would have started spinning like plates in a microwave, feeling it all somehow more real, then, under the watchful eyes of strangers.

She glanced at his face, a slight tension in her expression. He realized she was tense again. He took a breath and adjusted her position, lifting her slightly, holding her as if it were an established routine, following the instructions. When he thought of it that way, it was actually easier.

She gave him a gentle smile, weaving her hands together at the back of his neck. He responded, honestly.

And then, there were only the cards.

Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. He couldn’t afford for it to be just the cards. His job was to spot the one right face among dozens, not to win. That part had become her priority—she kept whispering hints into his ear, as if she still wasn’t fully convinced that he actually knew what he was doing.

“We should play against each other sometime,” she suggested.

“Don’t think for a second I’d go easy on you.”

“You think I’d need you to?”

Her question—well, more of a scoff—barely registered in his mind. Because just then, he caught an unfamiliar gaze lingering on them, watching for longer than the rest. And not just at them, but at one very specific spot.

She sat on his lap, completely at ease, not even noticing how the hem of her short dress was riding up a little too much.

It had caught the attention of the man sitting directly across from them—who was staring, shamelessly, at that very spot.

She must have sensed the way he tensed slightly because, within a second, her lips hovered near his ear.

“What is it? Did you spot the unsub?”

Spencer met the man's gaze and, with a natural movement, reached for the hem of her dress, tugging it down into place.

“I did,” he replied.

Then, without hesitation, he turned his head slightly to the side—locking eyes with the man who had been watching them from the very start.

by the way, happy women's day! <33 u are all incredible and invaluable (never forget that)

#criminal minds #criminal mind #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fic #doctor spencer reid #spence reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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leafostuff · 6 months ago

Text

Blind sexDate[Ft. StayC's Isa & Fromis_9's Chaeyoung]

Tags: none, its a threesome

Word count: 6.5K

Author's: that...took a while, started to write this in 26th of August so i did take a very long time to finally have this out but here it is: my October upload

I really want to thank @prael @capslocked @octoberautumnbox and many others from the discord for helping me with stuff I wasn't sure about, i am really proud of that fic and i hope everyone else will enjoy reading it as much as i had fun writing it.

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

She sounds pretty.

It's the lilt of her voice, how it does a cute thing where she almost, but not quite rolls her r's and chews on her consonants. A voice that sounds like it belongs to someone small. Someone, you know - conventionally attractive.

Four minutes, fifty-five seconds. And that's pretty much all she has going for her.

"Let me tell you about my friend's vacation," she starts again, and you've lost track of if this is the same friend, same vacation - or a new one. They're all blending together.

you always thought the ‘blind’ was a figure of speech. it's fucking pitch black, you wonder if compared to the other guys you were underdressed,, you did see one guy with a blazer and jeans your paycheck couldn't even pay a quarter of it.

But back to the girl, her non stop ramble is now a background noise in your ears, not even sure you can recall who is the ex of who and which boyfriend cheated on her best friend with her sister. Your brain can't keep up.

but regardless, the first round is thankfully over, say your goodbyes to the first girl and stay in your chair.

you consider leaving right now to try and not get disappointed even more, however…

“Hey” The next girl is already here, it will be rude of you to leave just like that.

“Hi I am Jake” you respond

“Nice to meet you, my name is Chaeyoung, but you can just call me Isa” she responds. The first impression you gather is her voice, Airy and sweet like honey

“Huh, it's a pretty name, First time I ever heard a name like that ” you can hear a quiet giggle to your compliment.

“Thank you, I am actually from South Korea, I came here to LA for summer vacation”.

“That's cool, I actually live in LA myself” You lean back in your chair, getting comfortable around the mysterious girl.

“Oh wow” you could hear the excitement in her voice. “Do you have any places you can recommend to me?” she asked.

“Uhh…well, Here in Santa Monica Pier it's always fun for tourists too walk around here, I assume you have already been at the walk of fame in Hollywood and Universal studios” you answer.

“I have to say though: this whole dating in the darkness is very fun, isn't it?” Fun is certainly one way to describe this, the other way is a gamble but for the sake of keeping the conversation fun you agree with her.

“Its like all of my other senses are much stronger, like some superhero…” Isa giggles, it's addictive that you can't help but join, with the sound of small shifts on her chair you can imagine how she is doing some battle poses.

“Hehe thats truuu-” quickly shut your mouth, that voice crack was the last thing you needed on a date but fortunately for you, Chaeyoung sounds a short laugh.

“Nervous?”

“hehe…Yeah, been a while since i was on a date” you explain, recalling your experiences with your failed relationships, it still stings a bit.

"Let's play a game then." There's some faint sounds of movement—a ruffling of clothes and the creak of a chair. She sounds clearer now, her voice doesn't have to carry as far and she's far more pronounced.

"Help you relax a bit: What do you think I look like?” she asks, her tone is playful and happy as if she is the host of a game show, This second date goes better than you expected.

“Hmm…let me think…I am gonna guess that you have…black hair…is it long?” Your first answer is hesitant.

“Not telling~” she responds with a playful note. “How about my clothes?”

There is curiosity in her voice, excited to see how you will respond, you could hear her fingers tapping on the table, remembering to not waste time. “Well, you sound like a sweet girl, like the simple things in life, so…” you pause, trying to imagine her in many different styles and clothes that could fit her in the 5 or so minutes that you got to know her.

Remember who is wasting who’s time so better lock in your answer now and say.

“My guess is… a summer dress?” quite the answer you give out, and the way you say it like you are one answer away from receiving the grand prize of Chaeyoung's game show, but back to her answer…

“You think it's something I will wear?” Isa questions, her tone sounds like she is also imagining herself wearing one.

“Yeah, it looks cute,” you respond. “And its not too crazy to wear on a first date” you add, hearing a small giggle after.

“Ok, i will keep it mind next time we meet”

“Will there be a next time?”

“I don't see why not”

You're happy, a bit surprised it didn't take you that much time to find someone in this speed blind dating thing, expecting more or less what happened the prior date but here you are.

“It's your turn to guess now?” You ask, already feeling comfortable around her.

“Ok ok, so i-”

But sadly as if life has decided to cockblock you, the time is over as an alarm can be heard as a signal to switch, you can only look at the general direction of where Chaeyoung could be and sigh, showing your disappointment.

“We can always meet later if you want” you can feel her wanting to continue her date with you but every good thing must come to an end

“Of course, it was very fun talking with you”

“Same to you as well” you can hear Isa lift herself from the chair. “See ya” she added in a happy tone before leaving you at the lone table. You can't help yourself but smile.

“Maybe it won't be as bad as i thought”

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

Time goes on and other girls come and go, however, you can't help but wonder more about Isa, what makes her laugh? What does she like to do on the weekends? what are her dreams, aspirations and everything in between, the curiosity killed you inside.

more importantly: you wonder what she looks like, outside of the darkness you were both in. If it wasn't clear enough: you are interested in her, they all say love at first sight doesn't exist but here you are, letting your mind fill with the idea of her.

You are set in stone of your choice, and there is no chance you will change yo-.

“uhm Hello? Are you there?”

Zoom out of your thoughts, focus on the husky, feminine voice coming from what seems to be in front of you. How long has she been sitting there? How long have you been daydreaming?? Thank god it's dark so quickly compose yourself before it can get awkward and start talking.

“Oh hi, im jake. Nice to meet you”

“Uhh, nice to meet you too,” she responds, it's not hard to hear the shakiness and in her voice showing her nervousness to you, the small shifting sounds in her chair. “I am Chaeyoung”.

You're caught off guard, the world is smaller than it seems with you meeting two girls Sharing the same name, “isn't that a Korean name?”

“Uh, yeah, how…how did you know?”.

“I actually met another girl named Chaeyoung before in here” you say, it would be funny if they actually knew each other but the chances are slim. It's not like you know every Jake either.

“Oh, that's cool…” she mumbled, sounding as if she was disappointed to hear it

The silence is now getting awkward, you both wait for the other one to start breaking more of the ice and it seems that she was the patient one between both of you since you are the first to give up and get the conversation going.

“So what do you do? For a living I mean” you are met with unintelligible mumbles as an answer, a bit unsure you ask her again to clarify.

“I…model, it's not super serious though” Chaeyoung quietly answered, you could hear light, quick taps beneath the table.

“Oh wow, I bet you are like, really pretty if you do modeling” you dont know how much confidence you got to say such a thing but you are already mentally face-palming yourself. You could feel yourself gaining some creep points in her mind over this comment.

“Oh, uhh Thank…thank you very much” Chaeyoung stutters, her tone jumps an Octave, sounding a small giggle. You can only sigh in relief that you didn't weird Chaeyoung out.

“I'm in LA for a photoshoot, since we finished earlier than expected i got a couple of days free to hang out around the city” she explains, still sounding nervous but much more at ease than before. “So what do you do for work, Jake?” She returns your question to you.

“Ah, I just work as a barista in a small café, nothing much.” you manage to say in a montone, unpleasant tone. You are a bit embarrassed that you have the chance to blind date a model while you are the equivalent of nothing compared to her

“It’s-It’s okay, i'm honestly not some super popular model” her words quickly come out of her mouth. “Besides, I can imagine being a barista is much more relaxing of a job, not trying to get every deal possible just not to lose money.”

“I mean, it doesn't pay much but it is less stressful,” you respond. You can hear two glasses of water placed on the wooden table with one of them handed to you, together with a straw since you could imagine how drinking from the cup would end like.

“So, what does a model like you” you stop, taking a small sip of the water to refresh yourself. -doing in blind speed dating?”

“It's just easier for me, usually when i go on dates I get nervous, and my eyes travel too much, and I kind of panic…” Chaeyoung explains, lightly giggling at her own experience before taking a sip from her water glass as well .“So I thought doing something like this could help me feel uhh you know… less stressed.”

“Hey, you do you, as long as you are comfortable.”

“Yeah, that's true,” Chaeyoung replied. Her voice turns less shaky and more clear than at the start of your date, it was clear that both of you had fun on that date.

So much so that in fact, you both were caught off guard by the timer for your date finishes and the lights suddenly turn up again, revealing the girl in front of you for the first time.

Right off the bat; you understand why Chaeyoung is a model.

A heart-shaped face and a delicate, soft jawline paired with brown, expressive eyes and Black shoulder-length silky hair that is enough to make every man look at her in awe, including you. Even her clothing is model-like with a Chic, stylish black off shoulder shirt and Denim jeans that show her features exceptionally well. By the way, you should say something before you will sound weird

“Oh, nice to meet you” stand up from your chair and raise your hand to a handshake.

“Nice to meet you too, i gotta say that i didn't see that coming at all” Chaeyoung cheerfully responded while shaking your hand, sounding a sincere chuckle while her eyes joined her wide smile.

“Same, i almost had a heart attack” you jokingly say while you get your jacket off your chair. “Say, wanna go outside? Maybe get to know each other more” she only nods, taking her jacket from her chair as you both head out from your table toward the exit of the bar.

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

“Oh, here you are” you recognize this airy voice, taken aback as you look at where the voice comes from.

Though you were right about the black hair, you did miss the mark on Isa's outfit. Short crop top and tight jeans, that cute summer dress was nowhere to be found.

Her cat-like eyes lock onto yours, she flashes a sweet yet devilish grin before heading toward the two of you.

“Gotta say Jake: i had a feeling you were good looking, but i didn't expect you to be this good looking” Isa compliments you, giving a small wink then her gaze turns to Chaeyoung with curious eyes.

“Your friend?” She asks you,

“Hi, I'm Chaeyoung, nice to meet you” She says, reaching her hand forward as Isa is suddenly taken by surprise.

“Um, I am Chaeyoung”

“That's my name”

“That's… also my name"

“What's your family name?” Chaeyoung asks, now intrigued by the other girl.

“Its Lee” Isa responds, now it's Chaeyoung’s turn to be surprised.

“that's also…my family name”

During this, you are just looking at what's happening in front of you. As much as you are curious, you are also worried since it seems like both were interested in dating you after this.

However, one quick look at each other, another one to look at you and then looking back at each other, the two girls started laughing, both covering their mouths to muffle the volume. You can only sigh in relief that it turned for the better.

Eventually they both let their laughs out as Chaeyoung speaks. “It's quite a surprise to meet another Korean here in LA”.

“Please, call me Isa, and same, nice to meet you too Chaeyoung” she replies, chuckling lightly as the other girl can't help but start chuckling as well before they reach their hand for a small handshake

“Well that went better than expected” you manage to slip in the conversation reminding them that you are still here.

“You also met him on Speed dating?”

Chaeyoung nods. “We were the last round before the lights turned on, you two met earlier?”

“Yeah, the other guys were kind of boring but he was a breath of fresh air” Isa explains, turning her gaze to you and winking at you. You could swear your heart skipped a beat.

At this moment one question rose in your mind and as you looked at the two girls with an awkward look, they both realized what you were as they sounded a small ‘oh’ before looking at each other again. As much as you didn't want you, you had to choose one of the girls to be your date.

“You can go out with Jake” Chaeyoung quickly says, smiling sweetly and lightly pushing Isa toward you, both you and the cat-like girl are surprised.

“Chaeyoung? Are you sure?” you question, why was she suddenly

“Yeah yeah, I'm sure, You two met before I met you, so she should have you” she explains, her eyes joining her smile. You did feel bad about leaving Chaeyoung out however an idea was about to be suggested that would fix that problem.

Then again, you aren't sure if this was an actual fix…

“I dont mind you dating us both”

What

“What?” Chaeyoung raises her eyebrow in surprise at Isa, the one who suggested that idea out of the blue, you were not far behind Chaeyoung in your reaction as well, being completely confusement.

“I mean dont see why not, I like you, you like me, she likes you, You like her. I am bad at math but it doesn’t seem too hard to solve this problem” Isa explains looking at you, You and Chaeyoung swap looks, you can feel your cheek heating up and changing to a pink shade.

“I mean uh…as long as Jake doesn't mind, it's okay by me” Chaeyoung stutters, Isa likes this response as she smiles at her new friend, her arm goes around Chaeyoung’s shoulder.

“Im sure it will be great, So what do you say Jake?~” Isa’s voice is sweet when she looks at you with her warm smile, Chaeyoung’s smile is also there but is much more timid.

The choice was now in your field, you didn't expect there to be a third option in the first place and all in honesty: That idea seemed like trouble. But when Isa looks at you with her cheerful smile, standing like that next to Chaeyoung with a smile that makes them look together like the next cover page for a magazine, it's hard to say no to them.

And deep inside: you don't want to.

“Sure, if that's what you two want” you respond, it seems they are both satisfied with your choice as they look at each other with warm smiles.

you honestly didn't mind this idea as long as they were both happy, besides, what's the worst that could happen?.

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

“Dang it!” Isa yelled, almost managing to block your hit of the air puck but it ended up inside the goal because of the unusual angle you shot it. “So…a model, that sounds like a cool job to have, no?” She directed her question to Chaeyoung, giving her the mallet she was holding.

“Huh? Oh yeah, it's fine, I'm not getting many offers compared to the average model” Chaeyoung answers, half focused on aiming the first shot before quickly shooting it at your goal. “but it's good money”

You reflect the puck. “I mean, if it's something you like to D-” Stop what you are saying and block the surprise attack Chaeyoung does, look at her cheeky smile as you know she almost scored“-Do, you can do almost everything you want” you continue what you were saying as you send the puck toward her direction.

“Yeah that's true” Chaeyoung smiled toward you, then quickly smacking the puck directly into your goal, getting herself a point. “So, what do you two work at?”.

“A Gaming cafe, Came to LA as a summer trip with my friends after exams” Isa replied, taking your mallet and shooting the puck from her side.

“Damn, compared to you two my job sounds boring as fuck, You are a model, you work at a gaming cafe, and i am just a barista at a cafe” you jokingly roast yourself, eyes moving from side to side with each side the puck goes to.

“Huh, not my first thought when it comes to your job,” Isa says, a bit surprised. “But…i imagine you look quite handsome in barista clothes” And there she goes again, with that flirty smile and curious eyes that you swear you fall in love deeper than you were.

Now look at Chaeyoung, not as flirty as the other girl but it seems that, unlike the first time you met her, she is much less tense, more at ease around the two of you, genuinely enjoying her time.

After the air hockey game is over and a quick stop to get some of LA’s finest street food (which the two seemed to really enjoy for their first time), the three of you are now sitting on the boardwalk, the sound of the waves going back and forth is singing in your ears, however now they topic of the conversation seems to get more…laid-back.

“So let me get this straight: your best friend is Korean, right?” You ask, Isa responds with a small nod

“And she has a British accent?” Chaeyoung continues your question, getting Isa to laugh again.

“Yes-” she stops talking to take a sip from the water bottle in her. “Fully Korean, with a British accent, one time my friends and I were listening to a song called ‘Run 2 U’ by some random group, and she said the name of the song as” she suddenly released a small chuckle unable to keep her cool.

“As what? Just tell us” Chaeyoung comments, half smiling as if she already knows the answer, Isa meanwhile slowly downed the water so she wouldn't choke before finally saying after a deep breath.

“Raeun tew yew…” The mock accent that Isa adds gives the punch line more of an oomph as you all start laughing, small tears of joy leave your eyes as you slam the wooden deck, meanwhile, Chaeyoung covers her mouth to hide the amount of blush she has on her cheeks from how hard she is laughing.

“Oh that was good, I didn't expect to laugh this hard” You exclaim, taking a deep breath as you now go back to staring at the waves. “Honestly…this date has been really fun, with both of you,”.

“Like-wise, we both enjoyed your company as well” Chaeyoung replies, sweetly giggling while her left fingers go to her hair, pushing it aside with the side effect of getting your cheeks slightly pink, luckily the weak lighting make it hard to see for the two girls.

“Same for me” Isa chimed in with a smile. “Say, want to continue it somewhere else? It's getting late” she prompts as a soft yawn escapes her mouth.

“Huh? Okay, if you want my place is close” you say, standing up from the deck as you lend your hand to help her stand up.

“That's great” She says as her gaze turns to the other girl. “You're coming as well Chae?”.

Chaeyoung suddenly tensed up in surprise. “Chae?” she asks, to which Isa just giggles at her rather cute reaction.

“Yeah, it's a cute nickname, you don't mind it, right?” Her tone is sweet when she asks her friend with a warm smile, that way when Chaeyoung smiles, she mirrors the same warmth with her own smile.

“Of course i don't” she responds, standing up and lightly stretching to gain some sense of her body, “So? Lets go”

“Great” Isa comments before turning her gaze to you. “Jake, mind leading the way?”

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

The ride home is quieter than usual.

Not that there were not any talks inside the cab you decided to take to your place, but most of the talking was done by the two girls, sitting on each side of you, only speaking in a language you can only assume is korean.

It’s a simple loop: Isa says something, they look at you (which you could only smile awkwardly at their happy gazes), Chaeyoung answers with something else and they start giggling, sneaking another look at you and then it goes back again.

Eventually the taxi stops, leaving you right in front of your apartment complex. “Hmm, it really is close to the pier” Isa commented, easy for her to say when the entire bus ride has been ten minutes but for you it felt like an eternity.

As you scale the stairs up to your floor and walk to your apartment, you manage to fish the keys to your apartment out of your jeans pockets and open the door.

“Well here we are,” you say, getting inside and turning the lights on, revealing the living room, a couple boxes of instant-noodles on the table, the tv is on with a random news channel. “As you can see, it's not that big but its co-”

As you turn around to look at the two girls, your mouth opens wide in shock.

In front of you is Isa, head tilted slightly to the side as her lips close the distance with Chaeyoung’s. Her hands are not left idle as they both smoothly travel across the older’s back, feeling every inch of her partner’s body.

Meanwhile Chaeyoung's eyes are wide open and her body froze, surprised by the sudden act of Isa. It's not long until she as well eases up into the kiss, gently closing her eyes and putting her hands on the younger’s hips, you can hear how tongues slowly starts getting into the mix as the two girls vocalise small hums and whimpers. Eventually the torture comes to an end as their lips part from eachother but not their hands

“That… was your plan in the…end?” Chaeyoung asks in between pants, trying to collect air to aid surprise

“Of course, and besides…” Isa answers, turning her head enough to get her eyes on you, more specifically a bit down from your eyes. “It seems like he enjoys the show”.

Look down at the visible tent that is forming inside your pants and your hand that is slowly stroking itself to the beautiful yet unholy sight in front of you, another look into their eyes and you can see the arousement both girls share at your own prize.

“Come behind her jake, she feels divine” Isa elongates the last word-just the right way to get you Following her prompt, walking toward the two girls and getting behind Chaeyoung, your hands wrap around her midriff and your lips find themselves on the back of her neck causing her to quietly gasp.

With each second that your threeway makeout session was passing you could feel your pants getting tighter and your lust growing larger, enough that in a very bold move you let your palm find Isa’s right buttcock, giving it a gentle squeeze that makes her release a soft moan and take a look at you with a slutty smirk.

“You sneaky motherfucker” she playfully said, getting one of her hands off Chaeyoung's hips and wrapping it around your length. “You're hard already” she exclaims, leaving the two of you standing in front of her, wanting more from her, and from each other.

“I cant wait any longer~” Isa breathily says, giving you two a playful wink before disappearing into your bedroom. As lust quickly takes over your body you grab Chaeyoung by the hips and pull her into a kiss, and by how Chaeyoung quickly reciprocates the kiss and doesn't pull away, you can tell she wants it too.

You don't have time to process the texture of Chaeyoung lips, or how her long, soft legs are wrapped around your waist. Your only goal is to get the two of you into the bedroom, where Isa sits on your king sized bed with hungry eyes, licking her lips in anticipation.

You let Chaeyoung get on your bed as you quickly join the two girls while tossing your shirt off to the side of the bed letting the two girls marvel at your naked chest.

“Fuck” Chaeyoung mouthed.

“Told you he was hot” Isa adds, scooting herself in front of you to get a hold of your chest before leaning in for a quick peck on your lips. “You don't mind undressing yourself, do you? me and Chae here have a show we need to give you” No answer was needed besides a nod as you went to the edge of your bed, letting the two girls begin.

It starts with kissing, slow yet sensual with Isa taking the lead by Straddling Chaeyoung's lap while one of her hands begins to glide across Chaeyoung's curves, ending at her left breast. “Fuck unnie, the things i will do to have a body like yours”.

Chaeyoung elicits a muffled moan to the soft grope Isa gives her, eyes completely shut and her and head looking up to let the pleasure take over. Soon Isa begins moving her hands all around her body, giving every inch of skin attention until eventually she stops one hand on the hem of Chaeyoung's shirt, the other supporting her from behind.

“You don't mind letting me take it off, right?” A quick nod of approval from the older one and Isa begins to slowly pull it up, moving to the right to let you see how slowly but surely more skin is revealed until finally the shirt is completely above her head giving you a clear view of Chaeyoung's black, lacy bra.

During all of this you are hard as a rock, can't take your eyes off from the two girls in front of you, even while you attempt to zip your jeans and rid them off your legs leaving you only in your briefs. You could swear you saw Isa lick her lips at the first sights of your briefs.

“Can I take yours too?” Chaeyoung's question is needy, eyes showing every sign of want to her Partner, hands are not left idle either with both of them resting on the upper part of Isa’s midriff, slightly below her two mounds.

“Of course, Unnie” she responds, leaning her body back and relaxing herself to let the older begin a strip tease of her own, every second that passes raises the sexual tension between them to a new level.

Unlike Chaeyoung, Isa’s crop top is not as loose compared to her black shirt, revealing the younger's breasts, covered with a crimson colored undergarments of her own with nipples taut from the arousal.

“Much better” Isa sighs in relief, feeling lighter without her crop top that is now thrown somewhere to the floor as once again she looks at you with a soft gaze however her mouth is anything but, painted with a sultry smile that can only speak trouble, finally with a breathy voice she playfully asks

“You're coming, Jake?”

The way Isa says your name, it's enough to let your primal instincts take over you, every red light is now turned green as you quickly pull Isa from behind into your lap, feeling her naked skin in your palms, right hand rests on her breast while the left hand goes to her thigh, rubbing and squeezing it to your heart's content.

“Oh god, yessss” Isa hisses the last word, it was clear that she enjoys every second of this, enough so that she doesnt pull away but instead leans in, meeting you in a torrid, messy makeout session, you two don't notice how Chaeyoung has already got rid of her whole bottom, only with her bra on with fingers already inside her pussy, definitely enjoying the view.

“Don't just stand there Chae, join us” This might be the most confident thing you have said this entire evening but it sure works on her since Chaeyoung now sits in front of Isa, palms massaging her clothed thighs, giving you a free hand to grope Isa’s other breast.

Those are not the same girls you met a couple of hours ago during that blind date, any semblance of innocence and fluff was left outside the door, now replaced with Lust and it's oh so clear with how Chaeyoung's eyes get aroused with each button she pops out of Isa jeans until eventually she finds her undergarment, same color as her bra with a wet spot in the middle.

Knowing what Chaeyoung was doing, Isa takes her hands into her denim jeans, lowering both the jeans and her own panties before throwing them away, leaving her creamy, thick thighs for both of you to revel in.

With the excitement in your body. You don't notice how Isa left your grasp, crawling away with a sway of her hips from side to side, now near her Chaeyoung they both look at you with an inviting smile, now giving you a chance to see both of them in their full glory.

With a devilish smirk Isa now moves behind the older girl, her eyes looking directly at you in an attempt to lure you in. Then a click can be heard as Chaeyoung’s bra now falls onto the mattress, Isa quickly joins her as now in front of you, two naked, gorgeous ladies sit in front of you.

And finally, knowing what the last piece is missing from the puzzle, you finally grab the hem of your boxers, pulling it down to let your Hardened cock stand strong and proud.

“Told you he was big” Isa exclaims, giving a small nudge to Chaeyoung with a small giggle, her friend quickly joins her.

“Yeah…so big” she mumbles quietly, her finger inside her mouth, lightly chewing on it to hold in the excitement of seeing your size.

However, you didn't come this far with them just to watch each other naked, and they are not either as without saying a word, the two of them playfully shove you down into the mattress and get into their positions.

It starts off with Isa finding her place on your legs once again, looking directly at you with her thighs wrapped around your cock, only the tip is exposed to the air as after a flirty wink, she starts rubbing her thigh on you.

“Oh shit, Isa…”

You groan, the rest of your voice comes out as a moan that gets her excited, you could have witnessed the obscene act of her thigh job until the end of time, however it is quickly obstructed by Chaeyoung's ass planted on your chest, her rear side all for you to view how it moves, you are not surprised why she is a model with a body as divine as hers.

“Jake…i can feel you twitching ” Isa whines, feeling your tip slightly touch her entrance is enough to let some precum leak out of your tip with you releasing another moan.

“Hey, let me have some too” Chaeyoung interrupts, taking her thumb and brushing it over your tip and grabbing some of it as you could hear how she gives it a small lick before humming cheerfully at your taste.

“Ooo, he taste good~” how the fuck did you even think this girl was innocent again?

“Can I have some unnie?”

“Sure” as if Chaeyoung’s timing was perfect, your first shot of cums leaks out of your member as she quickly gets some on her fingers.

“Say ahhh” Chaeyoung prompts as Isa happily obliges, letting her fingers get inside her mouth, tasting . Its down right torture how you are not allowed to see what might as well be a scene from an adult film but regardless you can only enjoy the sounds, its not like you didnt do it before.

As your libido starts growing, so does your confidence as your palms firmly hold each buttcock of Chaeyoung, feeling its texture by softly squishing it, kneading it like dough causing Chaeyoung to utter a moan while arching her body back to give you all of the signals that she is enjoying it.

“Okay, this is enough teasing, we want the real thing now” Isa exclaims, Freeing your cock from the confines of her thighs giving it a breath of fresh air as now she squats over your face, giving you a clear view of her shaven pussy. Chaeyoung meanwhile heads over to sit next to your cock, still standing, waiting for the next storm to hit.

“I assume I am still not gonna get a look aren't i?” You ask, trying to sound cocky however Isa didn't say anything as she was slowly lowering her body, obstructing your view once again. With her thighs around your body and her pussy so close to your face, you let your tongue out giving her lips the first lick, just to test the waters.

“Oh fuck, yess” You hear Isa muffled moans from pleasure, feeling her ass gyrating on your tounge, enjoying every moment as you could feel the friction of her thighs on your face.

“You should join us Chaeyoung-AH, i can see him waiting just for you~” you could feel yourself getting even harder than before by the way Isa playfully invites her friend, all the while she is overtaken by pleasure. you are excited to see how Chaeyoung goes off with you, however your thoughts are stopped with a loud groan, not expecting your cock to feel the tightness of her pussy wrapped around you.

After the first contact Chaeyoung starts slowly moving up and down, each dip takes your cock deeper inside her, you could feel how each time you were inside her fluids were coating you more and more. “Oh my god Isaaaaa-” she stops her sentence, quickly releasing a sultry, husky moan. “His f-feels so good…”.

“His tongue too unnie, he is eating me out so well” Isa adds. It's nice to hear the compliment, so much that you get the confidence to start moving at your own pace, pushing your tongue inside. Meanwhile your hands grope Isa’s ass, giving you the grip to start pushing your hips in a matching pace to chaeyoung’s downward movement, Causing the two girls to scream from pleasure, holding each other in order to not collapse on the spot.

You could only Imagine how the girl’s lewd expressions were, just from the ungodly sounds, the scent of lust and cum, and the feeling of their curves on your body you could guess the fun they were having, but it would not be over until you all finally relieved yourself.

“Are you close Jake?” Isa manages to form a question while looking down, you could only respond with a muffled ‘yes’ and a nod of approval.

“I'm close too guys, i have to cum” Chaeyoung replies, releasing another moan in between bohnces it seems like you were all in on the same train of thought as you could feel yourself getting closer to your climax, even without Isa’s Ass directly on your face your view was getting hazy from ecstacy.

“Shit girls, i am going to-” you couldn't even finish the sentence before finally releasing your cum, thank god you pulled out of Chaeyoung just in time.

Your thick load goes all over their bodies, on Chaeyoung thighs, on Isa’s midriff, some even spills on your own abs, you are also not alone as they both get their own orgasm which goes all around your body, Chaeyoung coating your cock and Isa spilling around your face and abs

It takes a while but eventually you are all drained, both girls fall into each of your side, finally giving you a chance to see the two girls laid on the mattress, their bodies painted with cum from the three of you, their faces happy and satisfied.

For a couple of minutes it's quiet, the only way you communicate is with your eyes, looking at each other not with lust but instead with a warm, peaceful gaze.

Eventually Chaeyoung finally breaks the silence. “Fuck, im not a virgin but i gotta say; that is the best sex i had in my life”

“Same for me, i don't know if i want a round 2 or to stop” Isa joins between heavy pants, her hands wrap around your body as she looks at you with the same warm smile she had back when you first saw her.

“I don't know about you two, but i need a good rest after this” you manage to say as you once again lay down on the bed, eyes looking at the ceiling with each hand goes behind the girls’s back, pulling them closee to you.

“Okay then, we will start cleaning and then join you” Isa replies, letting you close your eyes and get some rest. However not before you can hear faint sounds of slurping as you open eye and see Chaeyoung's lips wrapped around the tip of your cock, isa behind holding her hair and tying it to makeshift ponytail.

“Hmm, it seems you two wanted another” you say, smiling at the two girls.

“Hey, you're still hard and we are still horny, you complain?” Isa asks, her eyes locking into yours paired with a flirty grin and a cute wink.

Something tells you that you wont get a good rest from those two girls.

#kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #isa stayc #isa smut #stayc smut #chaeyoung fromis 9 #chaeyoung smut #fromis 9 smut #male reader smut #x male reader #male reader

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suguann · 4 months ago

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✎. you aren’t happy about your roommate’s party until you meet the attractive guy down the hall.

tags. fem!reader, future installments will contain smut, age difference, original characters, college student reader, one-night stands, angst, dirty talk, hurt/comfort, size kink, unplanned pregnancy

featuring. simon

It’s your first semester living off-campus, and Finn is boundlessly enthusiastic about all things that involve cheap liquor and crowded spaces, even more so now that she roped you into being her roommate after promising to split the cost of furnishing an apartment that’s probably too expensive for two undergrads working part-time, low-pay jobs.

You don’t like parties, really.

Movies and the social connotations surrounding parties have always made them seem like some monumental proverbial chip in your college experience; the real thing, once the bright-eyed shine of trying something new wears off, is more or less a bunch of random people packed into a room like sardines who abate their social awkwardness with alcohol and loud music.

So, no, you can’t exactly say that you enjoy the thought of Finn’s friends (and everyone she hardly smiles at) cramping up your already tiny apartment—especially when one of them is Miller from one of your business classes, who gives you the creeps.

And leave it to Finn to invite him, anyway.

"Now he knows where I live," you grumble into your bowl of cereal—something probably too sweet and (definitely) full of sugar for breakfast.

Finn shrugs, not at all worried for you, as she pours more sticky orange batter into the hot pan on the stove. "The guy has a crush on you. I think it's cute. And he seems harmless."

“Harmless until I end up in a ditch somewhere.”

You don’t have to see her face to know she’s doing that thing with her mouth whenever you say something she thinks is ridiculous. “If you’d agree to split the Netflix bill, you wouldn’t be stuck watching horror movies. Why do you only own horror movies, again?”

"That's easy for you to say.” You roll your eyes, ignoring her question. “You don’t have to sit by him every week.”

(As if that would ever convince her to change her mind.)

"Ow! Shit!"

You look up right before Finn drops a steaming pancake onto her hand and rushes to the sink to run it under cold water. The mutilated pancake lay forgotten with the others that didn't survive her last several attempts.

"Finn, I think this is unnecessary," you tell her after swallowing a mouthful of cereal. "Can't you do something more practical? Like sticking a note to their door?"

Finn looks up from the sink, her wild, red curls bouncing from the movement. "Oh, come on! Don't chicken out now. I've already made fifteen of these things." She points her pink spatula at the tower of not-quite pumpkin-shaped pancakes on the counter. "Plus, who's going to turn down free food? Now, go put on your costume and hand these out."

You shovel another spoonful of cereal into your mouth, scowling. "I'm not wearing the costume you picked out. It's so...inappropriate."

You’re pretty sure Finn picked out your costume from the dicey sex shop down the street rather than an actual Halloween store—the amount of mesh compared to solid fabric only solidifies the theory.

Finn finally turns the water off and gives you a stern look, amused eyes set under a furrowed brow. "I can find the one you own in the children's section at Costco."

You roll your eyes. "I really don’t feel like flashing my tits to the neighbors while offering them breakfast.”

She grins, wide and teasing. "You have nice tits, though.”

"Yeah, I'm sure the old woman down the hall would love to see her neighbor in the equivalent of a thong and nipple coverings at the start of her day." You don’t think you’d ever be able to look her in the eye again.

"Miss Yado is cool,” Finn says, returning to the stove to continue cooking. “She'll probably just tell you to wear a jacket or something."

You pick up your empty bowl and lean over the counter to put it in the sink. "I didn't know you talked to our neighbors."

Finn shrugs, flipping the pancake in the skillet. "She normally walks her dog while I'm heading to class. I stop to talk to her sometimes when I'm not running late."

“Oh?”

She shoots you a wry grin over her shoulder. "You'd know the neighbors too if you didn't scowl all the time."

In response, the corners of your mouth tip down. "I don’t scowl."

"Now, would you go change? These are getting cold."

Several minutes later, you come out of your room wearing the same costume you'd worn the past two years. Finn pouts when she sees you forwent the one she had picked out. However, she doesn’t do more than shake her head and shove a handful of food containers full of pancakes into your hands.

“You’ll be fine. Just remember to smile,” she tells you before the front door closes behind you.

You start on your end of the hall, going door to door and handing out the small containers. The whole time, you’re wondering why Finn couldn’t do this herself, considering you’re hardly a people person as is. Thankfully, nobody seemed too annoyed about being bothered on a Saturday morning—only one neighbor shut the door in your face before you could say anything.

But it’s fine. You’re not going to let it ruin your day. Plus, you only have one person left.

There’s a small pit of nerves in your stomach when you knock this time—half expecting another door to the face. What you don’t expect, however, is the tall and imposing guy who answers.

Who also doesn’t appear to be any less annoyed.

Your mouth opens and closes helplessly, all words stuck to the back of your tongue, watching as stray water droplets drip down from his wet hair and travel down the side of his face before dispersing into the dark stubble lining his jaw.

You stare. And stare. Eyes, most likely, bugging unattractively out of your head.

How did Finn never mention the super hot neighbor who lived six doors down the hall?

He gives you a once-over, and part of you suddenly wishes you’d gone with Finn's costume instead. Only because here, at that moment, you’re willing to admit that maybe the one you have on looks like a six-year-old picked it out—especially when this guy, who is way out of your league, scrutinizes it for a second longer, mostly your frilly crew socks.

"Can I help you?" he asks, his voice low as if he hasn’t been awake for long.

You blink, mild embarrassment rushing through you from the sudden realization that you’ve been standing there and saying absolutely nothing.

"Hi, um, I'm your neighbor from down the hall. My roommate and I are throwing a Halloween party, and we're inviting people in the building." Annoyance slowly melts off his face.

"Thank you,” heavily tattooed arms cross over his broad chest, and he leans against the door frame (and you definitely don’t stare at how his biceps seem to strain against his black t-shirt). “But I think I'm getting a little old for parties."

The corners of your mouth tip up in what’s the beginning of a smile.

"Okay, sure. You're, what, twenty-five?"

It’s a stupid joke, and for a moment, you panic, afraid he’d been unimpressed, but then his lips quirked slightly. "Not quite. Nice costume. Let me guess, fairy?"

"Witch, actually. I’ve always gone with something more original," you babble and bite your lip before you can say something else.

"It’s cute."

Cute?

You’re unsure if you should feel elated that he thinks so or self-conscious—that he might be making fun of you—so you settle with a mumbled “thanks.”

"So, what's with the container?" he asks, nodding toward your hands.

"Oh, um, my roommate thought she could bribe people with food to come to the party." Truthfully, it’s to prevent potential complaints from the neighbors, but you decide not to mention that part, although you think he knows by the way the corner of his mouth subtly lifts.

You give him the plastic container and watch as he stares into it with a furrowed brow. "It's a... pancake?"

"Er, yeah. My roommate likes to go above and beyond for everything."

"What's it supposed to be?" he asks, glancing up at you.

"Um, a pumpkin..."

You look between him and the container and find Finn had accidentally mixed up her presentable pancakes with the throwaways. And the pumpkin shape is...well, it isn't.

"Ah, I see," he nods, his slowly drying hair falling onto his forehead. "That makes more sense."

You can’t stop the giggle that bubbles to the surface. "You think you can do better?"

"Yes, actually," he grins back, all cocksure, with a flash of white teeth. "Maybe I’ll bring some over some time."

"I won't tell her you said that." However, you can't wait to rib Finn later.

"Right, it probably wouldn't make a very good first impression." Then he sticks out his free hand, "Simon."

You shyly shake it—ignoring the little skip in your chest at how big his hand is compared to yours—and tell him your name, too.

His eyes flicker down to his watch, and he curses under his breath. "Well, it was nice meeting you. But I have to finish getting ready for work."

Only then do you take note of the tactical pants and heavy boots he’s wearing.

When you meet his gaze again, you find amusement there, and you consider, with a new rush of mortification, that it probably seemed like you’d been openly eyeing his crotch.

You clear your throat, the back of your neck feeling hot, and you pointedly pretend your voice doesn’t hitch when you breathe a soft, tremulous, "Okay, sure.”

"Tell your roommate I said thanks for breakfast."

"Yeah, I'll tell her. Um, I guess I'll see you around." No longer able to make eye contact with him, you turn away and begin walking (though it’s probably closer to running) toward your door.

And you definitely don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s still standing there.

You spend most of the party hanging out near the front door, quietly hoping Simon might show up—even though it seems unlikely. After all, he did mention that he’s too old for parties, and a small, insecure part of you wonders if it was his polite way of turning you down.

"The guy was running late,” Finn had tried to reassure you. “I'm sure he was thinking about how to beat expressway traffic before the lunch hour rush hit. Not about the crazy lady in a witch costume running away from his door."

That was the initial deciding factor between your witch costume and the one Finn’s been trying to force you into—only so you don’t have to hear another person call you cute just to seem nice.

And leave it to Finn to jump at the opportunity to help you get ready, though she nearly freaked out when you popped into your joint bathroom with an old tube of mascara that you rummaged out of your nightstand.

"Do you know how many germs are probably on that thing?" Finn’s nose scrunched up as she threw it away in the waste bin near the toilet. "Please tell me you haven't used it since you bought it?"

You had rolled your eyes. "Probably not."

Finn sighed, then smiled. "Luckily for you, I own more than a crusty mascara tube."

You were about to argue, but when Finn told you to sit on the toilet lid with a dangerously sharp liner pen, you’d clenched your jaw instead, unsure what you were more scared of when Finn brought the pen close to your face: that your friend might potentially stab you in the eye or that you’d come out of the bathroom with raccoon eyes.

Thankfully, when Finn finally finished, neither was the case, except the number of looks you’ve been receiving anytime someone stops in the kitchen to get more drinks is something you hadn’t anticipated—especially when one of them happens to be Miller.

You’ve been avoiding him and his overly bare chest from the moment he walked through your front door. It grew more challenging after Finn left your side (the traitor) to talk to a guy you’ve seen her hanging around with on campus a few times.

And with the apartment feeling smaller than it already is, you’re only option is to blend in with the group hanging around your kitchen island.

You’ll be fine, Finn said.

Right, you think as you adjust the scanty tube top under your mesh shirt, trying to cover more of yourself with what little fabric you have at your disposal, and you wonder if it’s too late to change—

A knock at the door makes you perk up, regardless of how noisy the room is, with eardrum-shattering music and loud college students. You pull it open, expecting to see Simon on the other side, only to be disappointed when it’s one of Finn’s friends and her girlfriend instead.

"Hey, Roma." You realize you probably sound rude and attempt to give them your best smile—which is more or less a grimace.

Roma smooths out her extremely short referee-style dress. "Sorry, we're late! I couldn't remember where you lived. There are way too many blue apartment buildings around here..."

Everything she’s saying goes in one ear and out the other when you spot Simon stepping out of the door to the stairway across the hall. You hold your breath, waiting for him to look up from his phone.

But he keeps walking.

"Uh, yeah," you say distractedly before speeding up the conversation. "Hey, Finn is in the living room, but I'll see you guys inside, okay? I need to do something."

You step around them to catch up to Simon, which you learn isn’t easy in heels. So you call his name, hoping he hears you and smiling when he turns toward you. And you don’t miss how his gaze trails down your body slowly.

It makes something inside you quiver as you nervously play with the short hem of your skirt.

“Hey,” he says, sounding every bit as tired as he looks—his shirt from that morning now wrinkled with bluish hollows under his eyes—though he tries to hide it with what you think is an attempt at a smile.

And your cheeks burn because you feel guilty.

"Hey," you repeat dumbly.

Your eyes lower as his smile melts into one of faint amusement at your lack of tact. You fidget, shifting from one foot to the other. Maybe, you think, you should have let him walk into his apartment before you could embarrass yourself further today.

After a moment, you meet his gaze again.

"Uh, I just wanted to see if you still wanted to come over…But I imagine you're probably not up for it, so I’ll leave—"

Simon surprises you when he shrugs his shoulders and says, "Sure."

Your mouth gapes, unsure if you heard him correctly. "Wh-what?"

"I just need to shower and change, and then I'll be over. Okay?"

"I... yeah, okay," your nod is shy, trying not to betray eagerness.

A lazy grin stretches across his mouth. "Nice costume, by the way," he disappears into his apartment before he can witness how his words make you flush.

And you walk back to your apartment feeling a little more floaty than when you left.

masterlist

#.things i write #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #cod x reader #cod imagine #cod x you #mw2 x reader #mw2 imagine #fem!reader

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the-tarot-witch22 · 5 months ago

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Your life purpose - Pick a pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

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Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

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Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you - 8 of wands, ace of pentacles, and the moon)

Okay so the very first thing I feel and heard is you guys are meant to experience new things in your life, to travel the world, or new places, many of you might be travellers or even, if you haven't travelled, then you guys might love to travel or foreign culture might attract you a lot, I also feel this pile has good intuition like they know thigs, sort of psychic or even Deja vu, might happen with you guys, I also feel in this life time, you might and tend to rush things, like you don't like to stay at one place longer than few hours, you need to keep moving or even feel productive, I also feel, in this life time you are meant to be your own person like many of you even have most independent issues, I also feel you are supposed to be financially secure, and if things don't go your way then it will, it just means there are things that needs to be better or you need to be better before you get the result you want, I also feel you are mean to help people, or grow yourself personally and professionally everything i feel for this pile is definitely related to your self, I also wanted to clarify more, but I got the feeling that as you grow, age wise, experience wise , you will figure it out yourself, and i also heard "don't be discourage, with time you will get the things you deserve", when i said people i meant emotionally and financially not like give everything at your own expense but simply means help a little if you can, it will do you good, ifykwim,I also sense a Capricorn , taurus and Sagittarius energy here, sun, moon and rising, anyhow I also feel in this life time you are meant to go through numerous transformations, and find your own path as you move on, i also feel there might be few or many lessons you could have gotten in friendships or if you ever were in relationship, or even your homelife might have taught you a lot. Some of you i need to say might get anxious too, like little things worries you so i have been called to say, just know be calm and be confident, and know that it's not you, it's them. and if it's you then you will get better, and by that i mean problems you might have or had.

Alright pile 1, that's all i got for you, all i wanna say is you guys are going on right path, and believe in yourself a little more!

Pile 2:

(The cards I got for you - The lovers, King of swords, 9 of wands)

Okay so the very first thing i felt and heard is you guys might love, love. or be in love, sort of hopeless romantic i might add lol. But anyhow , let's dive deeper, you know the funniest thing? I feel this group is meant to find their other half in this life time, not saying that's your only purpose, but meeting your person is one of them and really a priority I feel in past life, you might have promised them to meet you again, and i felt goosebumps all over my body, totally unrelated but needed to be said. anyhow i also feel this pile are meant to find themselves, but not as much as their person, i feel there might be a urge of finding someone, and it's not because you are desperate it's because you have promised your person in your previous lifetime, and that is why you feel restless, like a fear of them not fulfilling their promise or you who could not be able to fulfill their promise, and that's a fear i see you feel. I also feel, there might be confusion in taking or making new decision you tend to overanalyse things, don't do that, if you feel your gut is right? go with it! no need to be too scared and live in "what if's", I also feel this group is academically intelligent or if academically average i might say you guys could be very witty, like you always have words ready to say, and god forbid if someone gets on your wrong side, you either cut them off, or show them who they actually messed with. anyways! I also feel you guys are meant to face some transformation in your adult life. There might have had some delays in good things, because universe prepares you first, I also feel check out pile 1 , there might be some messages for you there, I also feel you are meant to balance yourself, emotionally and in your personal life, I also feel one of your purpose is you need to stand up for yourself, to finally know your worth and what you were made for, I also feel there might be some of you who is confused for their career, like you might not like traditional things, do things your way or unconventional, I also feel you are meant to break generational curses, new things or bloodline starts with you, new purpose too!

Alright pile 2, that's all i feel for you guys, but i might say, your future person is coming soon, not gonna lie, they just kept giving me messages me lmao, they do miss you! so don't worry things will work out for you guys~

Pile 3:

(The cards I got for you - 8 of cups, 9 of cups, and the world)

Okay so the very first thing I feel and heard is, you are meant to complete karmic cycles in your life. Let's dive deeper! I also feel this group might have felt and experienced betrayal a lot, like in your friendships or even relationships, it's specific for few of you, but i am getting someone cheated on you? like which gave you lots of trust issues. But anyhow! I feel this group is meant to love themselves and learn how to be alone like not too co dependent or having your happiness and anything dependent on anyone but you, I also feel, this group might isolate themselves a lot, if something hurts them, and they tend to take a lot to recover, I also feel in this life time, you are meant to grow on your own, universe means to tell you that you have everything in your heart , that you find in some place else, so embrace that, even with help of therapy or if not, taking it easy and one at times, I also feel this group is very emotional like, very sensitive, I also heard "heart of gold", so you people are meant to find that purpose on your own and not to take people's harsh words to heart, I also feel you are meant to feel happiness, if you haven't had many happy moments, the i see in future there is so much more for you, i also "heard keep going", "being alone is not a curse but a blessing", right person knows that, I also feel you are meant to use your skills, for good, many of you might be super creative or have good communication skills, but anyhow you are meant to express yourself your voice, not bottle up, let people know how special you are, I also feel you guys are supposed to go through hard time, or have gone through hard times, but don't be scared i feel it's just a small debt you had from past life, and in future you would be much more happier you have ever been!

Okay pile 3 - this is all i got for you, but you know guys you are doing amazing! Take it easy~

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

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asapeveryday · 10 months ago

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FANTASY - K.TOBIO

Pairing: (time skip)Kageyama Tobio x Reader

Warnings: sexual fantasies :)

Summary: you’d had a crush on tobio through most of high school, he was your friend and he was cute, so it was only natural. When he sends you a ticket to his game on japan’s official team, that crush is reawakened in a far more mature way.

A/n: I’m gonna be spouting out sum haikyu stuff hopefully 🙏

RED IS A COLOUR you’re not quite accustomed to seeing him in.

It was only a year ago when he was adorned in the beloved navy and orange uniform, a bold number nine spread on his back where a new shiny number twenty now occupies.

Everyone changes in that first year after high school, but seeing Tobio again in person only makes it more apparent. His already broad shoulders have broadened, his arms as built as you remember if not more. His hair still short and sleek, a deep black that accentuates the blue abyss that is his eyes.

You can recall all the times you’d lost yourself, drowned in the sight of his face and his unwavering stare. Of course he never though much of it, dismissing your gaze as being zoned out. You were lucky he was so oblivious of his attractive appearance at that time, because you were nothing short of smitten.

You didn’t particularly care for volleyball unless he was playing. He has a way of engulfing everything in the game, you’ve never seen him so in tune with himself and his surroundings as you have on the court. You forgot how demanding his presence is, even on a team of amazing players he still drew attention.

The look on his face, eyes trained on the ball, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, eyebrow’s slightly furrowed, red fabric hugging his athletic body just right. It sends an embarrassing shiver through your body that you haven’t experienced since graduating from Karasuno.

It’s his turn to serve and his expression is focused as ever, posture alert and fingers spinning the ball with ease. You can’t help but lock your eyes onto his hands, toying with the volleyball as his chest expands and deflates with every fleeting breath.

The ball is in the air, and his palm makes contact powerful as a spark of electricity.

BAM.

The noise is terrifying, echoing through the whole stadium. the way the ball hits the other side of the court within bounds as Japan’s side of the stands erupt with screams of triumph is cinematic. You find yourself joining the yells of joy, smiling at the sight of Tobio loosening up, a slight smirk gracing his face as he nods at his teammates.

‘God.’ You think. ‘I feel like I’m a kid again, watching him play.’

When he sends another earthshaking serve across the court you can’t help but press your legs together. ‘No,’ you think again. ‘This is different. I feel different.’

He’s ready to really start playing now, jaw in the air and teeth bared into a dangerous grin that you just barely saw during high school. The way his arms flex with every pass, the way his fingers nimbly send the ball to his teammates or over the net, the way his toned thighs tense with every crouch to receive the ball. It just might send you over the edge, sparking thoughts that almost never graced your mind during your friendship with him.

You can see it; his hands caging you in as he hovers above you, careful not to lean his weight onto your body. You can imagine the sensation of his knee in between your legs as he tenderly kisses your lips. Tobio never cared for girls in high school, but you can imagine that a year of playing pro has widened his experience in various ways. Still, you can’t see the boy being rough with you, not when he’d sneak you notes in class or apologize for even touching you in the slightest.

Unless in one of his bad moods, you can see Kageyama Tobio being sweet. Though his length may touch places you could only dream of reaching, pumping in and out of you with the power and stamina he’s worked so hard for these past years, you know he’d kiss you like you were his first love, like he depends on the air you exhale.

“Missed you s’much.” He’d utter under against your neck, painting your skin pink and purple and his hips buck into your heat fervently. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” He’d say, and you’d mewl in response, wanting to tell him about how you longed for his focus on you since you were a first year in high school but unable to form the words.

Still, you’d like to imagine he’d know, that you wouldn’t have to tell him about how much you looked forward to his games, to staying back late after school and throwing balls for him and Hinata, to sitting with him at lunch and attempting to tutor him before giving up and going for a walk with him instead. You relished your conversations with the blue eyed boy, he was straight forward and honest. He knew exactly what he wanted out of his life at the time, and you secretly hoped you were included in that.

You couldn’t think of him this way back then, it felt wrong seeing as he trusted you so innocently as a friend and nothing more. Everything was different now. You can see it clear as day from your spot on the stands.

This Tobio, the one currently staring down a player on the opposite side of the net. He wouldn’t mind how the sight of his face coats your underwear with arousal, he wouldn’t care if you pressed yourself against him.

The thought of him spreading you open in that intricate nature of his, deep blue eyes staring up at you as his tongue explores between your legs, nipping at the soft flesh of your inner thighs before delving and devoting himself to your core.

When Kageyama committed to something, he did so to the fullest of his ability. Should he decide you’re worthy of climaxing at his hands, you’re sure he’d make sure it’s the best climax of your life.

You can’t help but bite your lip and pinch your thigh at the idea. It’s shameful how you’re staring at him straight on while fantasizing about cumming in his mouth or all over his dick, but it also adds a rush of adrenaline.

You finally shake the thoughts off when the final point is earned, Japan winning their first game of the Olympic Season. The stands erupt in celebration, you scream and laugh with the strangers by you as if you’re old friends. When your eyes part from the people seated beside you and find the court, you almost freeze at the sight that meets you.

He’s found you in the crowd, presumably remembering the exact ticket he bought you. Despite this newer, more adult version of Tobio initially shocking you, with one look at his face you know one thing hasn’t changed.

He’s still your friend, and his still thinks about you.

Tobio smiles almost nervously when your eyes lock on his, and he subtlety nods towards you. It’s enough to make your heart melt, and enough to fuel fantasies for a lifetime.

#fanfiction #fanfic #haikyuu tobio #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #haikyu x reader #hq tobio #hq #hq x reader #hq smut #smut

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enidette · 6 months ago

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HEAVEN BESIDE YOU

warnings :: both are 18+, no real d/s dynamics, kinda fluffy first time smut stuff, riding, unprotected sex (ill advised in an apocalypse but yolo)

carl grimes x fem!reader

carl remembers the first time he spoke to you. you lived in alexandria before he did, but had a similar backstory. you lived out there with walkers for years before you were welcomed into these walls. you caught his interest immediately, but the fact you stuck to yourself so much made it difficult for him to even learn your name.

that only piqued his interest more.

he would look for you, especially on watch shifts. he’d follow even, never getting caught. or so he’d thought. until one day he followed you out to the woods, hiding behind trees as you walked. you took a different path this time, leading him to a clearing. a large piece of land with an old, broke down car in the middle.

he watches you go further and further from his hiding spot, eventually deciding to go home when you turn around with a confused expression. your gaze finds his and he stands up straight, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights

“you’re not coming?” your voice had genuine curiosity, making him quirk a brow at you. he emerges from the trees but doesn’t try getting closer.

“what?”

you let out a short laugh, digging in your bag before tossing him a comic you’d find on one of your runs. he watches you turn back around and head towards the car, following you quickly this time.

“you think i haven’t noticed you, cowboy?” he grimaces at the nickname, looking at the comic in his hands instead of you. “i’ve noticed you like reading those.” you grab the car door that’s merely leaning on the car, moving it enough for the both of you to get in.

carl huffs, sliding into the backseat with you and moving the door back in place. “i’m surprised you noticed anything about me. you keep to yourself so much.” you nod at him, head turned facing the dusty windshield.

“i know a bit about everyone,” you turn to him a nudge him with your shoulder. “i could learn more about you if you’d let me.”

ever since, that car had become you and carl’s “spot”. somewhere you both would meet up to just be teenagers again, not ones stuck in the apocalypse. you had both grown so close so quickly, it was hard for carl to not see you in a different light.

it didn’t help that you seemed to treat him differently than everyone else. that you always wanted to know more about him. you remembered the things he liked and he’s not blind either, you’re very attractive.

he found himself testing the waters more and more. doing his best to use the little flirting he’s picked up over the years on you. it usually backfires, until one day the two of you are in the backseat of your abandoned car. you’re on one side and he’s on the other.

his comic is in front of his face but his eyes are peaking over it at you. you look focused as you read, popping candies you had both found in your mouth every once and a while. he sees how your skin is slightly glistening with sweat from the virginian summer heat.

he swallows thickly, trying to turn his focus back to his comic when he hears your laughter.

“you’re not exactly smooth, grimes,” you look up at him through your lashes with a small teasing smile. his mouth falls open a bit before turning into a flustered grin. he shakes his head and throws his comic down.

his breathing picks up a bit as he thinks about what to say next. “seemed i was every other time.” you quirk a brow at him, laying your comic down and sitting properly in front of him.

“oh no, grimes. i’ve caught you checking me out,” his face goes hot at your bold statement, embarrassed at how obvious he had been. not like he had much experience in these situations to go off of.

he doesn’t say anything, just adjusts himself in the seat so he’s shoulder to shoulder with you. his eyes avoiding yours that began shamelessly raking up and down his body. your hand goes to his thigh and he tenses up at the sudden contact, unaware of what to do next.

you pause at his reaction, “do you wanna just.. pretend this didn’t happen?” your hand starts to retract when he grabs it, just holding it in his. he looks down at your interlocked hands and just shakes his head. his eye flickers up to yours before going to your lips. he instinctively leans in a bit but stops halfway. the only sound in your ears were the nervous breaths the both of you let out.

you lean your head towards him, the tips of your noses touching. carl tenses at the unfamiliar contact, but doesn’t pull away. “do you wanna kiss me?” your question has him nodding, he didn’t even trust his voice in a situation like this.

you tilt your head up a little, leaning in all the way. your eyes flutter shut when your lips meet and it’s obvious you’re both inexperienced. you awkwardly bring a hand to the back of his head, playing with his hair as you attempt to deepen the kiss.

his hands find your waist, but the odd position has you hesitantly straddling his lap. “is this alright?” you mutter under your breath. the sudden closeness due to how pressed against him you were because of the small carapace hit him like a truck.

his eye raked over your body, mouth a little agape as he nods. you lean back in and the kiss is a little needier, messier. teeth clashing and heavy breaths mixing. an involuntary whimper slips out of his mouth when you grind against him, causing you to pull away and lean towards his ear.

“you make pretty noises, pretty boy.” he shuts his eye at the name, sucking in breaths harsher and harsher the more friction you provided. he had imagined this more times than he’d like to admit.

but it didn’t compare to how soft your lips felt against his, how perfect your skin felt on his fingertips. you’re breathing heavy, your chest rising and falling quickly. he sees how plump your lips are from your kiss, how pretty your skin looks in the rusted-window sunlight.

he pushes himself against you, chest to chest and reattaches your lips. the rocking of your hips becomes quicker and needier and his hands are digging into your hips. you pull away again, placing your hands on his chest before letting them wander. they trace down his abdomen before landing at the waistband of his jeans.

you look up at him quizzically, the two of you too embarrassed to speak. he nods and you unzip his jeans, tugging them down his legs. your impatience gets the best of you leaving you to abandon them at his mid-thighs. he huffs a laugh at your desperation, helping you pull your panties to the side and guide yourself onto his cock.

you whimper at the intrusion, going down slowly. he sucks in a breath through his teeth, throwing his head back. you can’t help but stare at him, his hair framing the art that is his face, his complex scar he’s so ashamed of hidden from your view.

all the whole carl is looking at you like a goddess, half lidded eye raking along your body. your hands are unsteady on his chest, trying your best to steady yourself and bounce on him properly.

your arms wrap around his neck and you lean down to kiss him. it’s a tad softer this time, carl wants to savor this as long as he can. his arms go around your waist, leaving you to grind on him instead. the kiss is messy, mostly heavily breathing into each others mouths trying to stay as close as possible.

carl leans back, opening his mouth to speak but all that comes out is a strangled moan. you can tell he’s close by how his hips messily snap up into yours. you stop your movements, causing carl to whine at the loss of pleasure. you lock your lips with his and bring your hand up to wrap around his cock.

you lead his hand down and his thumb finds your clit, rubbing fast causing whimpers to fall from your lips. his brows furrow and his mouth falls agape while he watches your pretty hand finish him off.

your heavy breaths are the only sound that fill the car until your giggles erupt. “we should head back to alexandria and shower?” carl sighs and shakes his head, tugging your body back down into his,

“later, stay with me.”

taglist :: @carlslvr @herrera2k @hiro--aoki @carlsangel @mozzeralla-stix

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mrsfancyferrari · 8 months ago

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Timeless Desire

Summary: You had always been Mercedes fan since you were young and it didn't change when you became Max's best friend. Based on British Grand Prix.

Song: Me and Your Mama - Childish Gambino

Author’s note: I can't write short stories to save my life. I hope you enjoy this long journey which may take a full day to read. Please like, reblog and share this! <33

Word count: 12.6k

MASTERLIST - F1

╚═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╝

You had always been a Mercedes fan since you were young, and it hadn't changed when you became Max Verstappen's best friend. The British Grand Prix had always been a special occasion for you, being a Brit yourself.

This time, however, you decided to wear your signed Mercedes shirt to the paddock, attracting a lot of attention.

As you walked into the paddock, you could feel the eyes of the public on you, a mix of curiosity and admiration. The atmosphere was electric, with fans and team members bustling around, preparing for the big race.

You caught a few whispers and nods of recognition, some even pointing at your shirt with approving smiles. It felt surreal to be in the midst of such excitement, wearing the symbol of your childhood dreams.

Max spotted you from across the paddock and made his way over, a grin spreading across his face as he saw the shirt. "Are you ready for me to win again?" he said with a wink, clapping you on the back.

"Not in a million years Maxie," You replied, nudging your shoulders to his.

Being here, surrounded by the roar of the engines and the energy of the fans, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of belonging.

You followed Max to the Red Bull garage, your Mercedes shirt still drawing a few curious stares from the Red Bull staff. Most of them were used to seeing you around, though, and had long accepted your unwavering loyalty to Mercedes.

The mechanics were busy fine-tuning Max's car, their focus undeterred by your presence. As you stood there, you could feel the palpable tension and anticipation in the air, a reminder of how high the stakes were for everyone involved.

Max chatted with his engineers, occasionally glancing back at you with a playful smirk. You knew he thrived on the friendly rivalry between the two of you. Despite the different team colors, the camaraderie and mutual respect you shared with Max and the Red Bull crew were undeniable.

It was moments like these that made you appreciate the sport even more, knowing that beneath the fierce competition, there was a deep bond that transcended team allegiances.

As Max was engrossed in a conversation with his team, you decided to take advantage of the moment and slip away for a while.

You couldn't miss out on the chance to connect with other like-minded individuals. The other wives of girlfriends of the drivers welcomed you into their circle.

"So what's the story behind the Mercedes shirt?" Rebecca asked curiously.

"Oh I'm just a big fan of Mercedes, especially Lewis Hamilton," you explained with a smile.

"While dating Max Verstappen? That must be hard to do," Lily Muni commented.

You blushed, taken aback by her comment. "Oh, no, Max and I are just friends," you quickly clarified, feeling a bit flustered.

Rebecca and Lily exchanged glances, clearly still intrigued, but they let the subject drop as the conversation shifted to other topics.

In your thoughts, you couldn't help but replay Lily's comment. The idea of dating Max had never crossed your mind in a serious way; your bond was built on years of shared experiences and a mutual love for racing.

Yet, the notion lingered, making you question if perhaps there was more beneath the surface of your friendship.

You had such strong feelings for Max, but you were terrified of rejection.

He's the 3-time world champion, a true legend of the sport. How could someone like you ever have a chance with someone as incredible as him? He's so talented, so successful, and you were just an ordinary person. The thought of opening your heart to him only to be turned away is enough to fill you with dread.

Part of you wishes you could just ignore these feelings, but they're impossible to deny. Every time you see him race, your heart skips a beat.

He's so captivating, so mesmerizing. You know deep down that you two could be amazing together, but the risk of rejection is too much to bear. You’d have to be content admiring him from afar, as much as that pains you. He's simply out of your league.

You had to rush back to the Red Bull garage to give Max at least some of your good luck while the rest was left for the Mercedes drivers.

You gave him a quick hug and told him, "Go easy on them will you?"

Max smirked and said, "Never in a million years."

You watched as Max got into his race car and drove off to the starting line. The atmosphere was electric, with the roar of the engines and the cheers of the crowd filling the air.

You then made your way over to the area where the celebrities were gathered, eager to catch a glimpse of the famous faces. As you mingled with the crowd, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement.

Whenever George, Lando or Hamilton were out on the track, you joined the throngs of fans in cheering them on, your voice adding to the cacophony of support that echoed through the circuit.

Jenson Button approached me, eager to know whom I was supporting at the British Grand Prix. "Excuse me, Y/N L/N. Can I have a moment of your time for a small interview?" he asked politely.

“Sure, I don’t mind!” You yelled over to the cars that had passed by where you were with speed for overtaking each other.

"I noticed you seem quite invested in the race today. Who are you rooting for?" He asked.

You turned to face the legendary Formula One driver, a smile spreading across your face. "Well, Jenson, I've always been a fan of Lewis Hamilton. The way he navigates those tight corners and pushes the limits of his car is truly inspiring. But I have to say, I'm also keeping a close eye on George Russell. He's been putting in some remarkable performances lately, and I wouldn't be surprised to see him on the podium today."

Jenson nodded thoughtfully, his eyes gleaming with interest. "Ah, yes, George did get podium in Austria. It's been great to see him come into his own this season. And of course, Lewis is always a force to be reckoned with on his home turf."

He paused, then leaned in conspiratorially. "Tell me, who do you think has the best chance of taking the chequered flag on Sunday?"

You turned around, revealing the word "Lewis Hamilton" written on your shirt in bold, striking letters. "I guess my shirt says it all," you laughed.

"Lewis has an incredible track record here at Silverstone, and I believe his experience and skill will give him the edge this weekend. But honestly, in racing, anything can happen, and that's what makes it so thrilling."

Jenson grinned, clearly amused by your enthusiasm. "Well, it looks like you're all set for a fantastic race day. Enjoy the rest of the Grand Prix, and may the best driver win!"

With that, he gave you a friendly nod and moved on to the next eager fan. You turned back to the track, heart pounding with anticipation, ready to cheer on your favorites as they battled it out on one of the most iconic circuits in the world.

Not long after Jenson moved on, you spotted Max Verstappen exiting his car after the first practice session. He looked focused but relaxed, a small smile playing on his lips as he made his way toward the garage.

Seizing the opportunity, you approached him. "Max, you were incredible out there! How are you feeling about the car's performance today?" you asked.

Max turned to you, his eyes bright with determination. "Thanks! The car felt really good, especially through the high-speed corners. We've made a few tweaks since the last race, and it seems to be paying off," he said with a nod.

"But there's still a lot of work to do, and we need to make sure everything's perfect for qualifying tomorrow." His gaze shifted back to the track, the competitive fire clearly evident.

"That's great to hear," you replied, excitement evident in your voice. "I'm sure you and the team will nail it. Best of luck for the qualifying session—I'll be rooting for you!"

Max chuckled, his grin widening. "I know you're actually rooting for Lewis, so don't try and convince me," he said, playfully pointing at your shirt before walking back to his team.

You chuckled, caught off guard by his playful comment, but you couldn't help but admire his confidence. As he disappeared into the garage, you turned your attention back to the track, eager for the next glimpse of racing action.

Realizing this was the perfect moment to engage with your followers, you quickly pulled out your phone and started a video.

"Hey everyone, I'm here at Silverstone, and it's absolutely electric! I just had an amazing chat with Max Verstappen, who seems really confident about the car's performance today."

With the camera still rolling, you began to walk around the paddock, capturing the vibrant atmosphere. "Look at this crowd! The energy here is just unbelievable. Stay tuned, because I'll be sharing more exclusive content, interviews, and updates throughout the Grand Prix. Make sure to follow and hit that notification bell so you don't miss a thing!"

You ended the video with a smile, feeling thrilled to share this unforgettable experience with your followers.

The paddock buzzed with activity, mechanics tirelessly working on cars while the air was filled with the sound of revving engines and excited chatter. Colorful team banners and flags fluttered in the breeze, adding to the vibrant spectacle.

The aroma of fuel and tire rubber mingled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee from nearby stalls, creating an intoxicating blend that awakens all your senses.

You decided to wander around the paddock until the second practice session started, eager to soak in every bit of the atmosphere. As you strolled past the various team garages, you couldn't help but marvel at the precision and dedication of the crew members.

Each mechanic moved with purpose, their focus unwavering as they fine-tuned the cars for optimal performance. The occasional cheer erupted from fans who managed to catch a glimpse of their favorite drivers, adding to the palpable excitement in the air.

Pausing at a merchandise stall, you took a moment to browse through the array of team hats, shirts, and memorabilia. The vendor’s enthusiastic pitch and the sight of fans proudly donning their favorite team's colors made you smile.

With a new Mercedes cap in hand, you continued your exploration, eventually finding a spot near the track with a clear view of the action.

Settling in, you glanced at your watch, counting down the minutes until the second practice session began, anticipation building with every passing second. . . . .

The second practice session had come to an exhilarating end, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as the leaderboard displayed Lando Norris’s name at the top. Seeing a Brit in first place put a broad smile on your face, a sentiment echoed by the cheers of the crowd around you.

The young driver's impressive performance had not only captured the hearts of the local fans but also ignited a sense of optimism for the upcoming race.

As the teams began to pack up their equipment and the drivers headed back to their motorhomes, you reflected on the day's events. The energy, the passion, and the sheer love for the sport were palpable, making you even more excited for what lay ahead.

You knew Max Verstappen wasn’t thrilled with his results today; the frustration was evident in his body language as he walked past the garage. Deciding it was best to give him some space, you chose to head back to your apartment on your own.

The cool evening breeze accompanied you as you made your way through the bustling streets, the excitement of the new day still lingering in the air.

Back at the apartment, you kicked off your shoes and sank into the couch, the day’s events replaying in your mind. The roar of the engines, the fervor of the crowd, and the sheer thrill of the race had left an indelible mark on you.

Your mind drifted back to the moment you saw Max Verstappen walk past the garage. His usually composed demeanor was replaced with visible frustration; sweat clung to his brow and his hair was tousled, a stark contrast to his usual neat appearance.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy for him. Racing was as much a mental game as it was a physical one, and today had clearly taken its toll on him.

As you sank deeper into the couch, you recalled the intensity in Max's eyes, the way he seemed to carry the weight of the team's expectations on his shoulders. It wasn't just about winning; it was about pride, about proving himself in the face of fierce competition.

His messy hair and worn-out look were a testament to the effort he poured into every lap.

You found yourself silently rooting for him, hoping that tomorrow would bring him better results and the sense of accomplishment he so clearly desired.

Just as you were deep in thought about Max, your phone buzzed, pulling you back to the present. Glancing at the screen, you saw his name flash across it.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say, but quickly answered.

"Hey," you said softly, trying to gauge his mood.

"Hey," he replied, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "I just... I needed to talk to someone. It's been a rough day."

You could hear the weariness in his voice, the frustration still lingering. "Of course, Max," you responded, your tone gentle and supportive. "Today was tough, but you're an incredible driver. You've got what it takes to bounce back."

There was a brief pause before he spoke again, "Thanks. I just needed to hear that. Tomorrow’s a new day, right?"

You smiled, "Absolutely. Get some rest, and let's see you take on the track with that unstoppable spirit of yours."

"Thanks, I'll come pick you up in the morning at the same time as today, is that alright?" Max asked, his voice sounding a bit lighter now.

"That sounds perfect," you replied, relieved to hear a hint of optimism returning to his tone. "Get some rest, Max. Tomorrow's another chance to shine."

After ending the call, you set your phone down and took a deep breath, feeling a mix of concern and hope for Max.

You decided to make yourself a cup of tea, hoping the warmth would help settle your thoughts. As you sipped the soothing drink, you couldn't help but replay the conversation in your mind.

As you sipped the soothing drink, you couldn't help but replay the conversation in your mind. The warmth in Max's voice was something rare, a side of him that few got to witness.

It stirred something deep within you, a flutter of butterflies in your stomach at the thought. Despite his usual stoic demeanor, tonight he had reached out to you, revealing a vulnerability that made you feel closer to him than ever before.

You let the warmth of the tea seep into you, calming your nerves while your thoughts raced. The connection you felt with Max tonight was undeniable, and it left you wondering about the deeper layers of his character.

Tomorrow, when he picked you up, you hoped to see that same spark of warmth in his eyes, a sign that he was ready to face the challenges ahead with renewed vigor.

Until then, you allowed yourself to bask in the glow of this newfound closeness, feeling a sense of hope and anticipation for the days to come. . . .

The next day arrived faster than you had anticipated, and before you knew it, the alarm was blaring in your ear. Groggy and disoriented, you realized with a start that you had overslept.

Panic set in as you hurriedly got ready, grabbing another Lewis Hamilton shirt and a Mercedes hat for some much-needed shade. You barely had time to brush your hair before Max would be at your doorstep.

You quickly brushed your teeth, splashed some water on your face, and dashed out the door, your heart pounding not just from the hurry but from the anticipation of seeing him again.

Rushing down the stairs, you hoped that your tardiness wouldn't dampen Max’s newly found optimism. As you stepped outside, you saw his car approaching, and a wave of relief washed over you.

The moment you climbed into the car, Max greeted you with a smile that was both reassuring and genuine. "Ready for today?" he asked, and you couldn’t help but feel that, despite the rocky start, everything was going to be just fine.

"Absolutely," you replied with a grin, trying to mask the flutter of nerves still lingering from your rushed morning. "Let's make it a great day."

Max's smile widened, and you felt a surge of confidence as the car pulled away from the curb, setting the course for whatever lay ahead.

The both of you arrived at the paddock at the usual time, the familiar hum of activity already filling the air. Mechanics were bustling about, engineers deep in conversation, and the distinctive scent of fuel and rubber permeated the space.

You used your paddock pass to enter the gate, feeling a sense of belonging as you navigated through the organized chaos. Max walked beside you, his presence steady and comforting.

As you approached the garage, you couldn’t help but notice the way the team members greeted Max with a newfound respect. It was as if the previous night's vulnerability had transformed him in their eyes as well.

He exchanged quick words with the crew, his tone confident and determined. You caught his eye, and he flashed you a quick, reassuring smile.

Since there was still time before the third practice race, you and Max decided to walk around the paddock. The bustling atmosphere of the Formula One paddock was electric, with teams of engineers and mechanics scurrying about, fine-tuning their cars for the upcoming sessions.

As you and Max strolled through the maze of garages, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. The sights and sounds of the sport you both loved so dearly were all around you, and you knew that the real action was just moments away.

The two of you exchanged excited glances, each of you eager to see what the day had in store.

Then in the distance, you saw Lewis Hamilton getting interviewed by Jenson Button and other journalists. Hamilton's outfit exuded a sense of style and sophistication that perfectly complemented his status as a Formula One superstar.

Dressed in a tailored charcoal grey suit, Hamilton looked sharp and modern. The slim-fit jacket accentuated his athletic build, while the crisp white shirt and slim-cut trousers gave him a polished, contemporary look. Finishing off the ensemble were a pair of sleek black leather dress shoes, lending an air of elegance to his overall appearance.

Hamilton's fashion choices demonstrated his keen eye for detail and his ability to effortlessly blend high performance sportswear with high-end formal attire, solidifying his reputation as one of the most stylish personalities in the world of motorsports.

Jenson and Lewis paused their conversation as their eyes fell upon you and Max. Their faces lit up with genuine smiles, and Jenson waved enthusiastically, beckoning you over. The camera crew shifted slightly to accommodate the new dynamic, capturing the camaraderie between the drivers.

"Hey, you two!" Jenson called out. "Come join us for a bit!" The invitation was casual yet filled with warmth, a testament to the close-knit community within the paddock.

"Are you coming?" you whispered to Max and he shook his head, understanding completely.

It would be too early in the morning for him to be hammered with questions with the 7th World Champion.

You made your way over, exchanging nods and greetings with the crew along the way.

As you joined the small circle, Lewis extended his arms for a friendly hug. The warmth of his embrace was a welcome respite from the chill of the evening air, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging in that moment.

His firm yet gentle grip conveyed a genuine affection that put you at ease, reminding you of the strong bond you shared.

The hug lasted just long enough to feel comforting, without becoming overbearing. As you pulled away, you caught a glimpse of the genuine smile that spread across Lewis' face, his eyes twinkling with genuine delight at your arrival.

"Good to see you again Y/N," he said, his voice carrying the same charm as his attire.

"Same to you Lewis," you replied with a grin on your face after meeting your idol.

You two have met before and every time Max would be with you but he would let you speak for the both of you.

"You know, we've seen some viral rumors going around about the two of you," Jenson stated, his tone playful yet curious. "Your faces look very similar," he added, prompting nods of agreement from the surrounding interviewers.

You chuckled, glancing over at Lewis, who seemed equally amused. "Yeah, I've heard that one before," Lewis said with a grin. "People always think we're related or something."

"I would be lucky to have you as my dad," you replied, your tone light-hearted but sincere. The surrounding crew chuckled, and Lewis laughed warmly, patting you on the back.

"Well, if I had a kid as cool as you, I'd be the lucky one," he responded, his eyes sparkling with genuine affection.

"You know, I was in high school when you won your first world championship," you said, reminiscing about the early days of his career. Lewis raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.

Lewis chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Oh, come on now, Y/N. That makes me feel ancient," he replied, still grinning.

Jenson joined in, adding, "Well, there's no denying the resemblance. Maybe you two should do a DNA test just for fun." The suggestion elicited more laughter, and you shrugged, playing along.

"Who knows, maybe we’ll find out we’re long-lost family," you joked, feeling the camaraderie and light-heartedness of the moment.

Jenson leaned in, clearly enjoying the banter. "So, Y/N, any plans to follow in our footsteps and join the racing world?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You shrugged with a smile, "Who knows? Maybe one day. For now, I'm just enjoying the ride and learning from the best."

Lewis smiled warmly before patting your shoulder. "That's the spirit, Y/N. Keep learning and who knows where you'll end up," he encouraged.

The crew continued to chat and laugh, the atmosphere buzzing with energy and camaraderie.

Jenson looked back at Max, who was still waiting patiently. "Let's not keep Max Verstappen waiting any longer and let you go," he said with a grin. "But before you leave, who are you rooting for to win on Sunday?"

You grinned and turned to the camera, proudly showing off your shirt which had Lewis Hamilton's name and number emblazoned on it.

"Of course, for my favorite driver, Lewis Hamilton," you declared with enthusiasm. The crew erupted in cheers and applause, clearly appreciating your loyalty.

Lewis laughed heartily, shaking his head. "Well, it's good to know I've got such a dedicated fan in you, Y/N," he said, his eyes twinkling with gratitude. "Just make sure you keep cheering loudly; I might need that extra bit of support on Sunday."

You nodded eagerly, feeling the warmth of the moment as Jenson wrapped up the interview.

When he unexpectedly reached out and signed your Mercedes cap and shirt, you were utterly starstruck and overcome with a profound sense of awe.

The surreal experience of having the coveted autograph of your revered idol permanently emblazoned upon your personal item is a feeling that will undoubtedly be etched into your memory, to be cherished and fondly recalled for years to come.

This tangible connection to your admired public figure has elevated the cap and the shirt from a mere article of clothing into a prized possession, imbued with deep personal significance that will serve as a lasting reminder of this incredible, once-in-a-lifetime moment.

"Thank you guys for making me meet my dad," you joked as you handed your microphone to a staff member. The crew burst into laughter, and even Lewis couldn't help but chuckle at your playful remark.

"Good luck, Dad!" you said as you walked away from the group, grinning from ear to ear. The crew's laughter continued to echo behind you, and Lewis gave a final wave, still smiling at your endearing humor.

"Thanks, kid," Lewis said back, still smiling warmly. You felt a rush of pride as you walked away, knowing that this incredible moment would stay with you forever. The excitement of the day left you feeling like you were walking on air, already anticipating the thrilling race ahead.

Max then joined you halfway as you two walked together behind the group. "That was quite the interaction," he remarked, glancing at the freshly signed cap in your hands. "I think you just made everyone in the crew a little jealous."

You chuckled, still riding the high of the unforgettable experience. "It feels like a dream. I mean, meeting Lewis Hamilton and getting his autograph? It's surreal," you replied, your voice bubbling with excitement.

Max raised an eyebrow playfully, “Would you be this excited if I gave you a signed Red Bull hat?”

You laughed, glancing at him, “Of course, Max! But you know, nothing beats meeting your hero.”

Max smirked, shaking his head with a mock sigh, “Guess I’ll have to step up my game then.”

"Well, Max, you'll have to start by winning a few more championships," you teased, nudging him lightly. He laughed, playfully rolling his eyes.

"But seriously, Max, you're my second hero too," you admitted with a grin, making him laugh and shake his head.

As you both entered the Red Bull garage, the familiar hum of activity and the scent of burning rubber welcomed you, amplifying your anticipation for the race ahead.

"These are the only times I've actually seen Max laugh this week," Jenson commented, overhearing the lighthearted exchange.

Lewis smiled warmly at the remark, clearly pleased to see such camaraderie. "Well, it looks like she's got the magic touch on Max," Lewis said, giving you a nod of approval.

Jenson chuckled, nodding in agreement. "It's true, she's got a way of bringing out the best in all of us," he remarked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Maybe we should keep her around for good luck," he added, glancing at Lewis with a grin. . . .

The results from the third practice session of the British Grand Prix left you utterly astonished. The top three positions were dominated by British drivers: Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, and George Russell.

The roar of the crowd was deafening as the names flashed up on the leaderboard, and you could feel the electricity in the air. The excitement was palpable, and the entire paddock buzzed with a mix of admiration and determination.

As you and Alexandra absorbed the results, you couldn't help but feel a surge of national pride mixed with the competitive spirit that coursed through the paddock.

"Three Brits at the top—who would've thought?" Alex mused, glancing at the screen.

"It's going to be one heck of a race," you replied, a grin spreading across your face.

The anticipation for Sunday's race grew stronger, knowing that this unexpected turn of events had set the stage for an epic showdown on the Silverstone circuit.

As the final practice session concluded, you made your way back to the garage, where Max was already debriefing with his engineers. His expression was a mix of frustration and determination, clearly unsatisfied with his fourth-place finish.

You could sense the tension in the air as he ran a hand through his hair, listening intently to the feedback. "Fourth place again," he muttered under his breath, his jaw clenched.

You approached him carefully, offering a supportive smile. "Hey, Max, don't be too hard on yourself. The race is still ahead, and anything can happen," you reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He looked up, his eyes softening slightly. "I know, but it's just frustrating," he admitted, exhaling deeply.

"We'll figure it out," you replied confidently. "You've got the skills and the team behind you—we'll get there."

Max’s shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, the tension in his posture easing. Without warning, he pulled you into a big, tight hug, a gesture of gratitude and camaraderie.

"Thanks," he whispered into your shoulder, his voice barely audible over the buzz of the garage. "I needed that."

You patted his back reassuringly, feeling the weight of his determination and the pressure he was under.

As he released you, he took a step back, his expression a bit lighter. "Alright, let me get to work before I get yelled at by the team," he joked, a renewed spark in his eyes.

You nodded, feeling a surge of optimism before letting him go. As Max turned back to his engineers, you couldn't help but admire his resilience and dedication. The garage was a hive of activity, the mechanics and engineers working tirelessly to fine-tune every detail for the upcoming race.

You knew that this was just the beginning, and that every effort counted towards the ultimate goal. The camaraderie and mutual support within the team were palpable, and it gave you confidence that they could overcome any obstacles.

Walking over to the pit wall, you glanced at the data screens, absorbing the information from the final practice session. The numbers told a story of fierce competition and the relentless pursuit of perfection.

As you watched the team dive into their preparations, you felt a sense of unity and purpose that transcended individual ambitions. The Silverstone circuit awaited, and with the collective strength and determination of the team, you believed they were ready to face whatever challenges came their way.

With the support of his team and the undeniable talent that Max possessed, you knew that the upcoming race would be anything but predictable.

Knowing that Max would likely pull an all-nighter to ensure everything was perfect, you decided to embrace a rare moment of relaxation and joined the girls for a much-needed night out.

The energy of the city was a stark contrast to the focused intensity of the garage, and you relished the chance to unwind and recharge. Laughter and conversation flowed freely as you and the girls caught up over dinner, sharing stories and enjoying each other's company.

"Lily, you should have seen Max today," you said, taking a sip of your drink. "He was so stressed but still managed to joke around. It's like he's made of steel."

Alexandra laughed, "You and Max, honestly, it's like watching a married couple. The way you two support each other is incredible."

Rebecca chimed in, "You both have that unspoken understanding. It's rare to see such a strong bond. Do you ever think about what it would be like if you two were actually together?"

You smiled, shaking your head. "Max and I are just really good friends. We've been through so much together, and I wouldn't trade that for anything."

As the evening progressed, Lily leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, how are things going with Max? Seriously, the way you two finish each other's sentences is uncanny," she teased, nudging Alexandra.

Alexandra and Rebecca chuckled in agreement. "Yeah, it's like you guys have this secret language," Rebecca added, taking a sip of her wine.

You laughed, feeling a warm blush creep up your cheeks. "I think that just happens when you're good friends with someone," you protested lightly. "But honestly, I think it's just because we've been through so much together with the team. It's hard not to get close when you're in the thick of it all."

The girls exchanged knowing glances, their smiles widening.

As the night progressed, you felt the stress and tension of the past weeks melt away. Dancing under the colorful lights of the club, you allowed yourself to be fully present in the moment, soaking in the joy and camaraderie of your friends.

Though your mind occasionally drifted back to the team and the upcoming race, you knew that moments like these were essential for maintaining balance and perspective.

The music in the club was a pulsating mix of deep bass and energetic beats, creating an infectious rhythm that made it impossible to stay still.

The DJ seamlessly blended popular hits with classic dance anthems, keeping the energy high and the dance floor packed. Every now and then, a familiar tune would spark cheers from the crowd, adding to the electric atmosphere of the night.

You tried to forget about tomorrow by dancing your heart out, losing yourself in the music and the laughter of your friends.

Each beat seemed to sync with your heartbeat, pushing away the lingering worries and stress about the upcoming race. The colored lights flashed around you, casting a vibrant glow on the faces of those you loved most.

Alexandra pulled you into a carefree spin, her laughter ringing out like a melody of its own, while Rebecca's enthusiastic dance moves encouraged everyone around her to join in the fun.

As the night wore on, you felt a sense of liberation, a temporary escape from the pressures that awaited you in the morning. The music, the lights, and the camaraderie wrapped around you like a comforting embrace.

You danced until your feet ached and your lungs burned from breathless laughter. In those precious hours, you allowed yourself to be free, knowing that the memories you were creating would fortify you for the challenges ahead. . . .

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As you left the bathroom, a guy approached you with a confident smirk. "Hey there, having a good time?" he asked, stepping into your path.

You quickly pulled out your phone, pretending to check messages, but he wasn't deterred. "Come on, don't be like that," he persisted, reaching out and snatching the phone from your hands.

"Hey, give that back!" you exclaimed, your voice rising above the music. His grin widened as he held your phone just out of reach.

"Relax, I just wanted to talk," he said, but you could see the mischief in his eyes.

"Look, I'm just here to enjoy the night with my friends," you said firmly, trying to keep your cool. "Can you please give me my phone back?"

He chuckled and shook his head, still holding the phone out of reach. "Only if you promise to dance with me for one song," he countered, his eyes sparkling with playful determination.

"Look, I'm not interested," you replied firmly, trying to keep your cool despite the growing frustration. "Just give me my phone back."

"Why so serious?" he teased, leaning in closer. "I promise, I'm not a bad guy."

Suddenly, a fist landed against the man's face, and he staggered backward, releasing your phone. You looked over to see Max standing in front of you, his eyes blazing with anger.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. Max was wearing a black leather jacket over a plain white t-shirt, his jeans slightly worn and his boots scuffed from countless adventures.

"Yeah, I'm fine now," you replied, clutching your phone tightly. The guy groaned, rubbing his jaw, but quickly decided to make himself scarce. "Thanks, Max. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up."

Max shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "Don't mention it. No one messes with you." He glanced around, the lively atmosphere of the party resuming as if nothing had happened.

"Come on, let's get back to the others. I think Alexandra is about to challenge everyone to a dance-off."

Max had always been the one to look out for you, ever since you first met. His protective nature wasn't just about physical safety; it was about ensuring you felt secure and valued in every situation. Moments like these reminded you why you valued his friendship so deeply.

You smiled, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you, before following Max over to where the girls were gathered. Alexandra was already hyping everyone up, her infectious energy drawing a crowd. The music thumped louder as she announced the start of the dance-off, and you couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement.

"Hey, you're just in time!" Alexandra called out, her voice filled with excitement. "We're about to start the dance-off, and I need my best dancer by my side." You laughed, feeling the tension from earlier melt away.

Max stayed close by your side, his reassuring presence a constant comfort. As the dance-off began, you found yourself laughing and cheering on your friends, the earlier tension quickly fading away.

You start to move your body to the rhythm of the music, swaying your hips and tapping your feet. The beat pulses through you, and you let it guide your movements, flowing from one step to the next with a natural fluidity.

As the tempo picks up, you pick up the pace, your limbs moving with increasing energy and precision. You twirl and spin, your arms outstretched, feeling the music coursing through every inch of your being.

The world around you fades away as you become lost in the dance, your only focus being the rhythm that compels you to keep moving.

The crowd's cheers grew louder, a wave of encouragement that fueled your every move. You could hear your friends shouting your name, their voices blending with the music and creating an intoxicating mix of sound and energy.

Every clap, every cheer, every shout of encouragement pushed you to dance harder, to lose yourself even more in the rhythm. It was a feeling of pure exhilaration, a moment where nothing else mattered but the beat and the joy of movement.

As you executed a particularly challenging spin, the crowd erupted in applause. You caught a glimpse of Max, his eyes filled with pride and approval, and it spurred you on even further.

Your feet barely touched the ground as you performed intricate steps, each one met with more cheers and applause.

Alexandra joined in, her movements mirroring yours in a dazzling display of synchronicity. Together, you owned the dance floor, the world outside the party forgotten as you reveled in the collective energy and sheer delight of the dance-off.

"Alright, I think it's time for us to go," Max muttered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded, your body still buzzing from the adrenaline of the dance-off.

You said goodbye to the girls, their faces glowing with the same exhilaration that still coursed through your veins. They gave you knowing smiles, the kind that spoke of shared secrets and unforgettable moments.

"You were amazing out there," one of them said, pulling you into a quick hug. The others nodded in agreement, their eyes twinkling with pride and admiration.

It was a night that would be etched into your memories, a night where you felt truly alive and connected.

As you made your way through the crowd, you could feel the lingering energy of the night, the music and laughter still echoing in your ears.

"Did you have fun?" Max asked, his hand gently squeezing yours.

"Absolutely," you replied with a smile. "I needed this. Thanks for being here with me."

"Always," he said, his eyes twinkling with warmth. "Now let's get you home."

As you and Max made your way out of the venue, the cool night air hit your skin, a refreshing contrast to the heat and energy inside.

He led you to where his car was parked, a few blocks away from the lively venue. The city's lights shimmered around you, creating a magical ambiance that seemed to extend the evening's enchantment.

Max opened the passenger door for you, his gentlemanly gesture making you smile. As you settled into the seat, you took a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs and calming your racing heart.

Max slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, the soft hum of the car a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. The streets were quieter now, the hustle and bustle of the night giving way to a peaceful stillness.

As he drove, you glanced over at him, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights.

A sense of gratitude washed over you, not just for the incredible night but for the unwavering presence of someone who understood you so deeply.

The road stretched ahead, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of contentment and peace.

The cityscape gradually transitioned from the vibrant glow of downtown to the quieter, tree-lined neighborhoods.

Streetlights cast long shadows across the pavement, and the occasional passerby strolled under the canopy of autumn leaves. The serene streets, dotted with quaint shops and cafes, seemed to whisper stories of their own, adding to the magic of the night.

You didn’t hear when the car stopped or when Max got out of his seat to come to your side, but you felt a touch on your shoulder, gentle and reassuring.

"Hey," he said softly, "we're here." His voice pulled you out of your reverie, and you looked up to see him holding your door open, a kind smile on his face.

"Sorry, I must have zoned out," you said, stepping out of the car and into the crisp night air. Max chuckled, "No worries. It looks like tonight wore you out in the best way possible."

You nodded, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you. "It did. Thanks again, Max, for everything." He squeezed your hand gently, "Anytime. Let's get you inside and cozy."

As you walked towards your front door, the porch light casting a welcoming glow, you realized just how much nights like these meant to you.

You unlocked the door and Max and you walked inside. The house was quiet and peaceful, a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of the day. As you closed the door behind the both of you, you felt the tension in your shoulders start to melt away.

Max immediately made himself at home, bounding over to his favorite spot on the couch and curling up with a contented sigh. You couldn't help but smile as you watched him settle in, grateful for the simple joy of being back in your comfortable space.

You followed him and sat right beside him, cuddling him. Max laughs, "How much did you have to drink?"

"Not much, just tired now," you mumbled.

Your body felt heavy, and you couldn't resist the urge to snuggle up against Max. The warmth of his presence was comforting, and you felt a sense of safety and contentment in his company.

"Hey, you know, my friends have been asking me a lot lately about...well, about us. They keep wondering if we're, you know, actually just friends or if there's something more going on," you said, feeling a slight blush creep onto your cheeks.

He looked at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Your friends, huh? What do you tell them?" he asked, his voice soft and curious.

You averted your gaze, suddenly finding the ground very interesting. "I...I tell them that we're just friends. But, I don't know, sometimes I wonder if they're right. I mean, are we really just friends?" you admitted, your heart racing.

He was silent for a moment, and you could feel the tension building between you two. "Well, I...I guess that's up to us to decide, isn't it?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn't help but glance at him, your gaze involuntarily drawn to his captivating presence. His striking appearance and commanding aura made it nearly impossible to look away, even for a moment.

Your eyes met briefly, locking in a charged, fleeting connection that sent a flutter of shyness rippling through your chest.

Despite your best efforts to avert your eyes, you found yourself repeatedly drawn back to him, mesmerized by his alluring and magnetic persona.

"I notice you looking," he replied, his voice soft and teasing.

"I... I didn't mean to stare, I just..." Your words trailed off as you struggled to find the right thing to say.

He smiled reassuringly. "It's alright, I don't mind." There was a warmth in his tone that put you at ease. "I'm glad you can look at me."

You felt your cheeks grow warm, and you ducked your head, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. "I'm sorry, I... I'm not usually this shy," you stammered.

"No need to apologize," he said gently. "I find your shyness quite endearing. Your drunk side is definitely cuter,”

You felt your cheeks flush even deeper at his compliment, a mix of embarrassment and delight swirling within you. You managed a small, shy smile, peeking up at him through your lashes.

"Thanks, Max," you murmured, your heart fluttering at his words.

As you stood there, the silence between you two thickening, you heard Max mutter something under his breath. Though you couldn't catch everything, you distinctly heard the words, "you'll be the death of me."

You chose not to comment on it, unsure if you had heard correctly or if your mind was playing tricks on you. The air seemed to crackle with unspoken emotions, making your pulse quicken.

A moment later, Max took a deep breath and stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "You have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice low and filled with intensity. The proximity of his presence made your heart race even faster, each beat echoing in your ears.

You could feel the weight of his words settling over you, making it clear that you were no longer just friends standing on the edge of something much deeper.

Deciding to be brave for once, you took a deep breath and met his gaze head-on. "Max, I... I think there's something more here than just friendship. Maybe we should talk about it, figure out what this really is," you said, your voice trembling slightly but steady enough to convey your sincerity.

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his, and the simple gesture sent a wave of warmth through you. "I've been wanting to talk about it too," he admitted, his eyes never leaving yours. "But you're too drunk to talk about it."

Max then stood up and said, "And it's past both our bedtime," he gave his hand out, "Do you need help?" You looked at his extended hand, hesitating for just a moment before placing your hand in his.

The warmth of his touch was comforting, and you nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Yeah, I think I do," you replied softly, a small smile playing on your lips.

As he helped you to your feet, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and nervousness about what the future held for the two of you. "We'll talk about this tomorrow, when we're both clear-headed," he promised, his eyes filled with a sincerity that made your heart flutter.

You nodded in agreement, feeling grateful for the moment of clarity.

"Goodnight, Max," you whispered.

"Goodnight," he replied, his voice gentle as he squeezed your hand one last time before letting go.

As you made your way to your room, your mind buzzed with a whirlwind of emotions. You felt a mix of excitement and anxiety, the weight of unspoken feelings finally acknowledged.

Lying in bed, you couldn't help but replay the night's events, wondering what tomorrow would bring for you and Max. . . . .

╔═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╗

╚═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╝

The next morning, you woke up with a slight throbbing in your head, the kind that comes from having one too many drinks the night before. Groaning, you rubbed your temples and tried to piece together the fragments of last night.

Bits and pieces floated back to you—laughter, the warmth of Max's hand, and something about a conversation that felt important. But the details were fuzzy, like trying to remember a dream that was slipping away with each passing second.

As you stumbled into the kitchen for a glass of water, you found yourself wondering about the look in Max's eyes and the words he had said. The clarity from last night was now a blur, leaving you with a nagging sense that something significant had occurred.

You couldn't shake the feeling that today might bring some answers, and perhaps a chance to finally address the feelings that had been simmering just below the surface.

You decided to dress casually, slipping into another Mercedes shirt, this one adorned with a signature from Lewis Hamilton that you'd gotten a long time ago. The familiar fabric brought back memories of excitement and admiration, moments when you felt invincible.

Topping off your outfit with the same Mercedes hat from yesterday, you hoped the attire would give you a boost of confidence for whatever the day had in store.

As you made your way to the living room, you couldn't help but think about Max and the conversation from the night before. The anticipation of seeing him again made your heart race, and you hoped that today would bring some much-needed clarity.

With each step, you felt a mixture of hope and apprehension, but one thing was certain—you were ready to face whatever came next, no matter how daunting it seemed.

A gentle knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts, and your heart skipped a beat. Taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it to find Max standing there, his familiar smile instantly putting you at ease.

"Hey," he greeted softly, his eyes searching yours as if trying to read your mind. The sight of him brought a rush of both relief and nervous energy, and you couldn't help but smile back.

"Hey, Max," you replied, stepping aside to let him in. As he entered, you both knew that the conversation from last night needed to be revisited, the unspoken feelings demanding attention.

Max glanced around your living room before turning to face you, his expression serious yet gentle. "You're a bit early today," you began, and he nodded.

"I just wanted to make sure you were good after yesterday," Max stated, concern evident in his voice. He took a cautious step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "Do you remember anything that happened?"

You shook your head, feeling a mix of frustration and embarrassment. "No, it's all a bit of a blur. I remember us talking, but the details are fuzzy. What did I say, Max?"

The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you could see Max weighing his words carefully.

He took a deep breath before replying, "We talked about a lot of things—your feelings, my feelings, and everything we've been holding back. I think it's important we address it now, while it's still fresh."

You glanced at the clock on the wall and your eyes widened in realization. "Max, if we start this conversation now, we're going to be late for work," you said, biting your lip. The weight of the moment was palpable, but the practical concern loomed large.

Max followed your gaze to the clock and sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I know," he admitted reluctantly, "but we can't keep pushing this off. How about we talk after the race? We can't let this hang over us any longer."

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief that there was a plan in place. "Okay, after the race it is," you agreed, grabbing your keys and heading for the door.

Max smiled appreciatively, and together, you walked out, knowing that the conversation was merely postponed, not avoided.

You walked to his car, the tension between you both a silent passenger. The drive felt quick, a blur of city streets and morning light, the hum of the engine the only sound breaking the silence.

Max's hand occasionally brushed yours on the gear shift, each touch a reminder of the conversation that awaited. As the racetrack came into view, a sense of urgency replaced the earlier calm, the reality of the day ahead crashing down.

Before you could fully prepare yourself, you were swarmed by the paparazzi, their cameras flashing and questions flying. Max tightened his grip on your hand, guiding you through the chaos with a protective determination.

"Just stay close," he whispered, his voice a steady anchor in the storm. You nodded, squeezing his hand back, feeling a mix of gratitude and apprehension.

You two safely made it to the Red Bull garage, Max's annoyance palpable as he helped you regain your balance after tripping over a persistent paparazzo. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration but softened by concern.

You nodded, brushing off the embarrassment as best you could, and took a deep breath to steady yourself. The bustling activity of the garage—mechanics fine-tuning cars, engineers analyzing data—provided a temporary distraction from the looming conversation.

Max's jaw tightened as he tried to shake off the earlier chaos. "Let's focus on the race for now," you said, your eyes scanning the garage for any more paparazzi. "You'll need all your concentration if you're going to pull this off."

You gave him a reassuring smile, determined to support him through the day.

The air buzzed with anticipation and energy, but despite the noise and activity, the unresolved emotions between you two lingered, a quiet storm waiting to be addressed.

"Max, you've got this," you said, giving him a quick, encouraging nod before stepping away. He returned the nod, his eyes briefly softening before hardening with focus.

You left Max to focus on his preparations, giving him a supportive pat on the back before making your way through the crowded garage.

Miraculously, you managed to avoid the paparazzi and found Alexandra near the hospitality area, her eyes lighting up as she saw you.

"Hey, Alex," you greeted her. Your voice was a mix of relief and anticipation.

"There you are," she said with a relieved smile. "I was starting to worry they'd swallow you whole!"

"I thought so too, I don't know why they acted like that," you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

"I think it was because of yesterday," Alexandra commented, her expression growing serious. "The rumors about you and Max really stirred things up."

"What rumors?" you asked, your heart skipping a beat.

Alexandra sighed, glancing around to ensure no one was eavesdropping. "There's talk that you and Max are more than just friends, and it's got everyone buzzing," she explained, her eyes filled with both concern and curiosity.

"They got a glimpse of you and Max leaving the club holding hands, so they just assumed you two were dating," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your cheeks flushed as the memories of the previous night flooded back, the moment innocent but easily misconstrued. "Great, just what we needed before the big race," you muttered, running a hand through your hair.

"Is it true?" Alexandra asked, her eyes searching yours for any hint of the truth. You hesitated, the weight of the question pressing down on you. "No, well... I don't think so,"

You stammered, feeling the heat rise to your face. "We're going to talk about it after the race. There's just too much going on right now to sort it out."

Alexandra nodded slowly, her expression a mix of understanding and concern. "I can see how things could get complicated," she murmured, glancing back towards the garage where Max was still preparing.

"Just make sure you both have a clear head for the race. The last thing you need is this drama distracting you."

You sighed, grateful for her support. "Thanks, Alex. We'll figure it out one way or another," you said, giving her a small, reassuring smile. "Right now, we need to focus on the task at hand."

Alexandra nodded, her face softening with understanding. "I get it. Just make sure you two sort it out. It’s important for both of your sakes, especially with so much at stake today."

She paused, then added, "And remember, I'm here if you need to talk or just need some support. We've got your back, no matter what."

"Thanks, Alex. That means a lot," you replied, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. You stepped forward and pulled her into a hug, needing the reassurance of a friend's support in this whirlwind of confusion.

She hugged you back tightly, whispering, "You've got this," before stepping back and giving you a determined look.

As you both pulled away, you glanced around the bustling garage, the sound of engines roaring and mechanics shouting orders filling the air. "Let's get through today first," you said, trying to infuse your voice with the confidence you didn't quite feel. "After the race, I'll sit down with Max and we'll clear everything up."

Alexandra gave you a firm nod, her eyes reflecting her belief in you. "Good. And remember, whatever happens, we're a team. We'll get through this together," she said, before turning back to her duties, leaving you with a renewed sense of determination.

You walked back into the Red Bull garage, weaving through the busy crew members and the organized chaos. Spotting Max near his car, you took a deep breath and approached him.

"Hey Max," you called out, trying to mask any lingering anxiety. He looked up from his preparations, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of curiosity and concern.

"Hey," he replied, looking away from his car to glance at you. "Everything is okay?"

You nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just wanted to wish you good luck. Let's focus on the race and leave everything else for later."

Max's expression softened, and he gave you a reassuring nod. "Sounds like a plan. Thanks," he said, giving you a firm pat on the shoulder.

"Oh, I forgot to do something," Max said, grabbing something from the nearby table. You raised an eyebrow, unsure of what he was referring to.

Before you could ask, he reached over and took off your Mercedes hat, replacing it with a Red Bull one. "There," he said with a grin, "now you're properly dressed for the occasion."

You laughed, feeling some of the tension ease. "Thanks, Max. I guess I did need a little wardrobe adjustment," you replied, adjusting the new hat on your head. "Just remember, no matter what happens out there today, we're in this together."

Max nodded, his expression serious but supportive. "You're just saying that because you got 'adopted' by your idol," he teased, extending his hand for a firm handshake.

"Exactly! You'll have to call me Y/N Hamilton now," you smirked, joining in with the handshake.

Max chuckled, shaking his head. "Never in my life will I ever call you that Y/N, you know that already."

Just then, a crew member signaled to Max that it was time to get ready for the race. Max glanced at his watch and nodded, turning back to you with a determined look. "Alright, I have to go now. But remember, we'll talk after the race, okay?" he said, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

You nodded, feeling a mix of anticipation and support. "Good luck out there, Max. Give it your all," you urged, stepping back to let him head towards his car. Max flashed you a final grin before heading off, his focus shifting entirely to the task at hand.

As you watched him walk away, you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride and camaraderie. The roar of engines filled the air, signaling the start of an intense competition.

You took a deep breath, knowing that whatever the outcome, the bond you shared with Max and the team would only grow stronger.

Throughout the day, you mingled with the fans, soaking up the atmosphere and excitement. As the race began, you cheered for Hamilton, hoping for a victory for your home country.

The event kicked off with a thrilling qualifying session, where Lewis Hamilton and George Russell of Mercedes secured the top two positions, narrowly edging out the young sensation Lando Norris of McLaren. Max Verstappen qualified fourth, setting the stage for an intense battle at the front of the grid.

As the lights went out, Hamilton made a perfect start, maintaining his lead into the first corner. Norris and Verstappen engaged in a fierce fight for second place, with the Dutchman eventually managing to make a bold move and take the position.

The race was filled with intense on-track action, as the drivers pushed their cars to the limit on the iconic Silverstone circuit. Oscar and Carlos fought their way through the field, making impressive overtakes and fighting for a podium finish.

Hamilton managed to hold onto his lead, with Verstappen and Norris in close pursuit. The battle for victory came down to the final laps, with Verstappen making several attempts to pass Hamilton, but the British driver held firm, crossing the finish line to the delight of the passionate home crowd.

Lando Norris secured a well-deserved third-place finish, with Oscar and Sainz rounding out the top five.

You could feel the tension in the air as the race unfolded, every corner and straight away leaving you on the edge of your seat. When Lewis Hamilton crossed the finish line, you erupted in celebration with the rest of the fans, the atmosphere electric with joy and pride.

The victory felt like a triumph for everyone present, a testament to the dedication and skill of the entire team.

You were close by when Lewis got out of his car at the number 1 place and he jumped out to meet his parents. The emotion on his face was palpable as he embraced them, the crowd's cheers echoing in the background.

It was a moment of pure triumph and familial pride, one that you knew would be remembered for years to come.

Lewis then ran over to you and gave you the biggest hug, his joy radiating through the embrace. "We did it!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with triumph and gratitude.

You could hardly believe it, standing there in the midst of the celebration, feeling the warmth of his victory shared with you.

The crowd's cheers grew louder, a symphony of adoration for their champion, and you felt an overwhelming sense of connection to this incredible moment. As the noise of the crowd swirled around you, Lewis pulled back slightly, his eyes sparkling with unspoken emotion.

"Thank you for always believing in me kid," he said, his words sincere and heartfelt. The world seemed to fade away as you shared that instant, knowing that this victory was not just a win on the track, but a culmination of years of hard work, perseverance, and unwavering support.

"It was all you," you said, smiling through the tears that had begun to form in your eyes. Lewis shook his head, still beaming.

"No, this victory belongs to all of us," he replied, his voice steady and filled with gratitude.

Lewis then left you to go hug his team, the very people who had worked tirelessly behind the scenes to make this victory possible.

The mechanics, engineers, and strategists all gathered around him, their faces lit up with pride and relief.

Each hug and handshake was a testament to the unity and effort that had propelled them to this moment. The bond between the team members was evident, a shared understanding of the countless hours and challenges they had overcome together.

As Lewis made his way through the throng, he paused to exchange words of gratitude and congratulations with each person. The joy in the paddock was infectious, spreading like wildfire among everyone present.

The cameras flashed, capturing the raw, unfiltered emotions that painted this victorious scene. It was a reminder that while one man may stand on the podium, the triumph is always a collective achievement, built on the foundation of teamwork and mutual respect.

As you were cheering for Lewis, you didn't realize when Max got out of his car and walked over to you until he was standing in front of you, his helmet still on his head.

Startled, you looked up to see the intense gaze behind his visor, a mixture of disappointment and adrenaline in his eyes.

After he didn't move and all you could hear was his harsh breathing, you quickly helped him with taking off the helmet. As it came off, his face was a portrait of raw emotion—disappointment mingled with exhaustion, yet there was an unmistakable glint of respect in his eyes.

"You were incredible out there," you said softly, trying to bridge the gap between rival and friend. He nodded, his expression softening slightly as he took a deep breath. The tension slowly melting away from his shoulders.

He nodded before moving closer to you, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "After this, be in my room." A shiver ran down your spine, the unexpected command sending a surge of adrenaline through your veins.

You couldn't help but feel the intensity of the moment, the lines between competition and something deeper blurring in the dimming light of the paddock.

You met his gaze, searching for any hint of jest, but all you found was a seriousness that made your heart race. "Max, what are you—" you began to ask, but he silenced you with a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head.

"Just be there," he insisted softly, his voice a mix of urgency and something else you couldn't quite place. With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

You watched the podium ceremony unfold, the cheers of the crowd and the spray of champagne creating a festive atmosphere. Yet, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake Max's words from your mind.

His voice, that hint of something unspoken, echoed in your ears, overshadowing even the triumphant smiles of the winners. As the drivers celebrated, your thoughts kept drifting back to that moment, the weight of his command lingering heavily.

Back in the team garage, the clamor of post-race activities did little to diminish your inner turmoil. You replayed the scene over and over, analyzing every detail of his expression and tone.

What could he possibly want? Why the urgency?

As the minutes ticked by, you found yourself drawn inexorably towards his room, curiosity and anticipation intertwining in a complex dance. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached the door, uncertainty mingling with a strange sense of inevitability.

As you walked, suddenly someone took your hand and pulled you into Max driver's room—it was Max. The door closed behind you with a soft click, and you found yourself standing inches from him, your breath catching in your throat.

His eyes were intense, a storm of emotions swirling within them that you couldn't quite decipher.

"I needed to talk to you alone," he said, his voice low and steady, a stark contrast to the chaos of your thoughts.

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, his presence enveloping you. "There's something I've wanted to say for a long time," he continued, his hand still gripping yours tightly. "But I didn't know how, or if it was the right time."

You could feel the weight of his words, each one laden with unspoken meaning. The intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming, and you knew that whatever he was about to reveal would change everything.

His eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. "What is this about, Max?" you finally managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper.

He took a step closer, the space between you shrinking to nothing. "There's something I've been hiding, something I need to tell you before it goes any further."

His hand remained on yours, grounding you as the weight of his words settled in. You could feel the gravity of the moment, the potential for everything to change hanging in the air between you.

Max’s grip tightened slightly, as if drawing strength from your presence. "I’ve been battling with this for so long," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "and I can't keep it to myself any longer. I’ve been feeling something more than just camaraderie between us. Every race, every strategy session, every moment we've spent together... it’s become clear to me that it’s more than just professional respect or friendship."

Your heart raced, your mind spinning with the implications of his confession. "Max, are you saying...?" you trailed off, unsure if you dared to hope for what his words might mean.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours as he took another step closer, his free hand gently cupping your cheek.

"Yes," he said softly. "I’m saying that I’ve fallen for you. And I couldn’t go another day without telling you, without knowing if you might feel the same."

Your breath hitched at his confession, emotions swirling within you. "Max, I... I don't know what to say," you stammered, your heart pounding in your chest.

His gaze remained unwavering, filled with vulnerability and hope. "Just tell me how you feel," he urged gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

Tears welled in your eyes, a mix of relief and confusion. "I've been trying to convince myself it was just friendship," you admitted, your voice trembling. "But deep down, I've felt it too. I was just too scared to acknowledge it, afraid it would ruin everything."

Now that everything was out in the open, a sense of liberation washed over you. The weight of unspoken emotions lifted, replaced by a cautious but undeniable hope.

"But knowing you feel the same changes everything," you whispered, a tentative smile breaking through your tears.

Max's eyes lit up with a mixture of joy and relief, a broad smile spreading across his face. He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let go.

"You have no idea how happy you've just made me," he murmured into your hair, his voice filled with an overwhelming sense of contentment.

He then pulled back to look at you, his eyes mostly glancing at your lips without any hesitation. The air between you crackled with a palpable intensity, a silent promise of something more.

His breath mingled with yours, creating a heady blend of anticipation and longing. "May I?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, seeking your consent with every fiber of his being.

You nodded, unable to find the words, your heart pounding in your chest. As his lips met yours, the world seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of shared emotions.

The kiss was tender yet filled with unspoken promises, a confirmation of the feelings you both had been harboring for so long. When you finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against yours, both of you catching your breath.

His eyes held a depth of emotion that took your breath away, shimmering with love, relief, and an unspoken promise of a future together. A gentle smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his gaze soft yet intense, as if memorizing every detail of your face.

"Love you," you whispered without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

For a moment, you worried you had said too much too soon, but the way Max's eyes softened reassured you.

"I love you too," he replied, his voice steady and sincere, as if he had been waiting to say those words for a long time.

The weight of the moment settled between you, both comforting and exhilarating.

"What happens now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Max's hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture that felt both grounding and electric.

"We take it one day at a time," he said, his smile widening. "No more hiding, no more pretending. Just us, figuring it out together."

The simplicity of his words brought a sense of calm over you, and you nodded, feeling more certain than ever that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.

"That means supporting me before Lewis," he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

You chuckled, shaking your head with a mock-serious expression. "That's a bit of a stretch," you replied, your tone light and teasing. "I might need some convincing before I switch allegiances."

Max laughed, the sound rich and warm, filling the space between you. "Challenge accepted," he said, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I'll just have to work extra hard to win you over, won't I?"

"Well, you've got your work cut out for you," you replied with a smirk. "But I'm open to seeing what you've got." His eyes sparkled with determination, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement.

"Don't worry, I love a good challenge," Max replied with a confident grin.

"By the end of this, you'll be my biggest supporter, just wait and see."

i.t.y/n

liked by maxverstappen1, mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, and 1,702,847 others.

tagged; maxverstappen1

i.t.y/n: Hey everyone! I know I've kept you in the dark for a while, but I'm excited to finally share that Max and I are together. We've been enjoying our time together and wanted to keep it just for us for a bit. To make up for the secrecy, here are some adorable photos of Max that I know you'll love.

I have to admit, he's managed to convert me into a Red Bull fan. But don't worry, Mercedes will always have a special place in my heart. Thank you all for your understanding and support. 💙

view comments below

maxverstappen1: Schatje I love you 🫶

i.t.y/n: I LOVE YOU TOO MAXIE 🥰🥰

lewishamilton: Congratulations on your relationship! I hope you both the best 😊

i.t.y/n: Thanks dad! I'll always be supporting you in secret 👍

lewishamilton: @maxverstappen you better take care of my daughter

*liked by i.t.y/n*

maxverstappen1: Yes sir

mercedesamgf1: Don't worry Y/N, we know you will always belong to us 🩵

maxverstappen1: Actually Y/N is all mine and always will be mine so respectfully f**k off

i.t.y/n: Max what did we say about bad words????

maxverstappen1: sorry schatje, @mercedesamgf1 I mean with all the respect I can have, please frick off

*liked by i.t.y/n*

user2: NOT MAX FIGHTING WITH MERCEDES ACCOUNT OVER Y/N????

user3: Y/N is actually living the dream 🥹

i.t.y/n: @maxverstappen1 I was just looking at the pictures of you that I took and you're always smiling in them

maxverstappen1: That's because I love smiling at what's mine 🫶

i.t.y/n: That's so sweet! 🥰🫶

maxverstappen1: Wanna meet me after sim practice??

*liked by i.t.y/n*

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cobragardens · 1 year ago

Text

Notes on the Scene in Job's Basement

Crowley is not tempting Aziraphale here. He's experimenting on him.

Getting Aziraphale to sin, or even getting him drunk, is not Crowley's intent in this scene. Eating food, taking pleasure in food, drinking alcohol, and even being drunk are not sins in most of Judaism or Christianity (and they're certainly not sins in British Christianity, regardless of any church's doctrine). When Aziraphale turns down alcohol, Crowley just suggests he try food instead; so it's not important to Crowley what Aziraphale tries, but it is important to him that he try something.

This scene is also the first time (chronologically) we see that Crowley likes to drink and likes to be drunk.

We know from

and from

as well as from Book Omens and Word of God that angels have no instinct beyond curiosity pulling them toward eating or toward gender. From this we can reasonably presume they have no instinct toward Beverages either.

That means that in this moment--

--Crowley is very likely the only metaphysical entity he knows on either side of the divide, or even knows of, who has ever experienced a physical pleasure.

And he probably has some Lingering Questions about it, like we all did the first time a physical pleasure blew our minds. Like,

Is it this strong for everyone?

Is there something wrong with me?

Am I going to hurt myself if I do this, like, a lot?

And it's not like the poor creature can ask anyone, because the answers for humans aren't necessarily going to apply to him.

So when he sees an opportunity, Crowley gets that one angel he knows who'll talk to him to try a human thing, and then he watches to see if physical pleasure hits the angel as hard as it hit him.

And that's why he looks so creepily pleased when it does.

Apparently it is this strong for everyone and there isn't anything wrong with him. Now he can relax and get sloshed without worrying, and he even has someone to talk to about how rad human stuff is.

A Dip Into Speculation

We know because we're shown this isn't the first time Crowley has gotten drunk that, watching Aziraphale, Crowley understands what he's seeing. I think it's really interesting that Crowley doesn't laugh at Aziraphale at any point during this scene, and he doesn't correct the way he's eating, either.

Maybe it's because this is what it was like for Crowley the first time. Maybe he got so drunk he passed out and woke up in a puddle of his own sick. Maybe he got so drunk he passed out and didn't wake up at all, and there was Paperwork and he had to get used to a whole new corporation just when he'd got the hang of having legs in the old one. Maybe somebody had to show him how to use a fork or whatever they had going on for eating utensils in Ancient Mesopotamia. I distinctly remember having to learn as a small child to chew with my mouth closed. There is every possibility Crowley doesn't consider the way Aziraphale is eating to be worthy of ridicule because whatever Crowley did the first time was worse.

Maybe he wants to leave Aziraphale set up for later embarrassment over his table manners. Aziraphale was a judgy bitch about the wine.

Or maybe it's something like Let him have this one. There can be rules to it later; let him just enjoy it, once, like a little kid with both fists in their birthday cake.

Maybe it's desire. There is some textual evidence for this. Once Aziraphale learns to eat properly, the way he does it is very attractive, and we know Crowley loves watching him do it.

I don't think it's overreaching even to interpret David Tennant's physical performance of Crowley watching Aziraphale eat as one of sensual or erotic pleasure. I mean--

I'm not saying it absolutely has to be erotic, but it's not a reach, or even a full extension of the elbow, to read it that way.

There's another meta somewhere [I'll link it when I find it again; if you know this meta, please drop it in comments!] that discusses how this exchange in Job's basement is filmed like an erotic scene.

Like Crowley, we all want to kiss this face.

Aziraphale isn't eating prettily, but he's eating lewdly, ravenously, desirously, and it's lit like romantic sex, not like gluttony. Whether that's funny or poignant or hot may depend on the viewer. Here's how Crowley's handling it:

Srs tho, any frame of this scene could have been painted by Artemisia Gentileschi.

Or maybe--and this is my favorite of the available interpretations--maybe this is what it was like for Crowley the first time and he doesn't interfere because he wants Aziraphale to come out of this as someone who's had the same experience Crowley's had so Crowley won't be so totally alone in having had it.

#good omens #good omens s2 #companion to owls #good omens 2 #good omens job's basement

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buuniebaby · 10 months ago

Note

your first time with hamzah 🙈🙈

THERE��S A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING. 🎀

includes: losing your virginity, awkward sex talk, very sweet sex ! 💝

word count 3.2k purr

you’re too tired for this.

you and hamzah are becoming sleep deprived, something you usually do together: come over to each others houses, watch a movie, eat food your stomach will regret in the morning. it’s been a tradition since you guys were just friends.

even now as you’re dating, it still feels.. the same. not that you’re complaining; you love having a partner who’s also a best friend to you. it just feels like there should be some sort of change, but you can’t put your finger on it.

it’s 2 in the morning now. you and hamzah have watched about 3 shitty 2000s movies, enjoying every moment of each one. your brain feels absolutely fried, and you can only imagine his is as well.

“are you a virgin?” hamzah spoke suddenly, but also casually. a little too casually. you choke on your own spit at that, face turning red with embarrassment.

“…what?” is all you can reply back. “what- why?” you say, eyebrows furrowing at him. your voice has noticeably pitched up.

“i dunno. just tell me.” hamzah says, rolling his eyes. you hate how confident and sassy he is, but you’re also sort of attracted to it.

“you’re so weird.” you practically squeal, jokingly. you grab onto a pillow as you fall back first onto the bed. “why do you even wanna know? that’s so like, random.” you ask, more genuine this time.

“i guess,” hamzah starts, but then pauses, almost as if he doesn’t know the answer himself.

“i was just kinda thinking. like, we don’t really talk about sex, ever. and we don’t have to- I don’t wanna bring it up if you’re uncomfortable. I’m just like, curious if you’d be down to talk about it.” he rambles, making up his words as he goes. you furrow your brows as he speaks, still kind of confused. you know there had to be something that started it, you just aren’t sure what.

“oh. well like,” you flush, sort of embarrassed to admit what you’re about to say. “yeah, i am.”

“a virgin?” hamzah asks, head tilting like a lost puppy.

“yes, idiot. what else would i be talking about?” you reply back sarcastically.

“you’re right, you’re right,” he banters with you. “I just- I guess I’m surprised.”

you perk back up, sitting yourself upright again.

“surprised.. that im a virgin?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

“i guess.. i dunno. I just feel like you’re like, too pretty to not have found someone who wants you like that.” he rambles. you feel a blush creep onto your cheeks again, knowing he’ll always praise you for your pretty face.

“i mean, I’ve found a lot of people who want me,” you say, rolling your eyes at the thought of a particular ex. “I’m just like, picky, I guess.” your giggling as hamzah somewhat laughs with you, but you watch as his facial expression starts to falter. you know something’s on his mind.

“do you want to?” is all he mutters. again, he keeps this quiet, casual tone that you rarely see with him.

“i mean, yeah, kinda. I just like, don’t know where to start I guess.” you answer honestly. “feels like everyone’s way more experienced than i am anyways.” hamzah turns over to you, looking in the eye. you feel him think for a second, as if he doesn’t know whether he should let his thoughts out or not.

“well, I don’t really have experience either.” he mutters back, scoping for a negative reaction from you. your eyes widen a bit, and he doesn’t know if he should take your body language negatively or positively.

“you’re a virgin too?” you ask, a more shy tone than usual.

“..yeah. well I’ve done like- stuff. just like, never had sex. never had my penis like, in there, y’know-“

“you don’t need to go into detail.” is all you have to say, talking over him.

“-but i would go all the way with you.”

that’s all you remember from that night before blacking out, yet somehow the short memory haunts your mind. it’s eating you up inside, the thought of losing your virginity after so long to him.

you’ve seen all the edits and thirst traps of him online and can admit that they’ve made you feel some type of way about him - hell, you’ve touched yourself to the idea of your boyfriend too. yet for some reason, the thought of actually having sex with him was never really a priority to you. it’s not until now you’ve understood people’s cravings for sex, but god can you feel it now.

you’re making breakfast the next morning while his hands are around your waist and all you can think of is that conversation. when you help him with editing throughout the day, leaning over his shoulder, all you can think about is him having you bent over like that in a different context. you feel like you’re in a haze almost, clouded by the thought of hamzah.

“baby?” hamzah asks, waving a hand in front of your face in an attempt to get your attention. you perk up and face him, slightly embarrassed for spacing out.

“i was just gonna ask if you wanted me to order something for lunch.” he says casually, but his face begins to fade into an expression between concerned and confused. “you okay?”

“what?!” you reply, scrambling at bit as you didn’t think he would pick up on your behavior. “im fine. what do you mean??” you question; rapidly.

“you’ve just been like, really spaced out today. i get like that, where i like dissociate sometimes when something reallyyy bad happens. so i just wanted to make sure.” he rambles a bit, genuine concern in your eyes. despite the horniness driving your body right now, you do feel a bit warmed by the way he cares for you.

“you can always talk to me if something’s up, y’know-“

“did you mean it?” you ask, staring at him blankly.

“mean… what?” he stares back at you, looking at you like you just killed a man in front of him.

“what you said last night. that you’d like- y’know..” you look down shyly, hiding in your hair as a warm blush creeps onto your face.

“that I would..?” hamzah looks at you, genuinely clueless.

“lose it to me hamzah. have sex with me. loose your virginity.” you look up at him, speaking sternly. you’re a little too pent up to take his stupidity today.

you watch as his expression changes, going from confused to something you can’t even put a name on. a mix of shocked, embarrassed, amused - but most prominently, you watch that urge crawl up into his body. you can tell in his eyes that he wants you in the same way you crave him.

“yeah.” he says, breathy. “i want that. like, now though? or like later, what are we doing-“

his words are cut off as your lips land on his. he gasps into the kiss, caught by surprise. you try and swipe your tongue against his slightly parted lips, but he pulls away before you can get it anywhere significant.

you look at him concerned after he pulls away, taking a second to breathe.

“have you like- kissed anyone before?” he asks, and you can tell he’s serious. you giggle a little.

“yes, ive kissed before.” you say, a little smile still formed on your face. “buuut..” you drag on your words to edge him on a bit.

“ive only made out with someone once, and i can already tell you’re the better kisser.” you say, slyly. he likes it when you boost his ego like this - he’s already proud of himself for pulling you, so you make him feel like some sort of greek god.

he smirks before he pulls you into another kiss, this time pressing his lips to yours a lot firmer. it’s more intense this time around, a hand cupping the side of your face, holding you in place for him as his tongue glides inside your mouth.

you kiss until you physically can’t anymore, pulling back when you need a break for air. there’s an awkward silence before he kisses you again, putting his hands on your waist sometimes. you’re taken aback a bit as he lifts you in the air.

your immediate reaction is to hook your legs onto something, hamzah just being the nearest option, of course. your legs wrap around him, straddling his hips. you arms are grabbing onto his shoulders gently. he’s strong enough to hold you without support, but you like the physical aspect of clinging onto him like a koala.

he reaches the room, fumbling with the doorknob as he struggles to lift you at the same time. he kicks the door closed softly behind him when he eventually gets in there. he drops you in the middle of the bed, body landing gracefully.

you sit yourself up into a more comfortable position, and hamzah sits himself right next to you. it’s here when you realize how comfortable you are around him, even if you’re about to reach a life milestone you can never take back with him.

but fuck, you’re never gonna be able to take this back. the anxiety crawls back up into your brain for a second, but the feeling of hamzah’s hand on your thigh relaxes you. a single look into his eyes and you’re already reassuring yourself again. you’re not gonna want to take this back, because god, you love this boy.

“have you ever-“ hamzah pauses mid sentence, stuttering. he does this when he doesn’t know what words to use; it’s one of his mannerisms that you’ve picked up a little yourself over time. “like, felt anyone up? or like- dry hump them, I guess.” he says. you feel him cringe a bit at his own words - he gets embarrassed easily.

“not really,” you say. a smirk creeps onto your face as you have an idea. “but you could show me how.”

hamzah’s eyes widen a bit as his hand moves from your thigh to your waist. he picks you up again like it’s nothing, sitting you down on his lap. his hands massage your waist, moving up briefly past your chest. he runs at your collarbone for a minute, staring at your clothed breasts.

“can i take this off?” he asks in a low voice, toying with the fabric at your shoulders. you bite your lip as you give him a nod, and before you know it whatever garment was covering you before is gone.

“fuckkk,” is all hamzah lets out before a hand is cupping your chest, squeezing at your soft and fleshy skin. instinctively, you push your chest into his hands. you let out a soft noise as he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers.

he’s fully hard now, and you can feel it straining against you. you can tell he’s trying to keep his hips still, not wanting to get worked up too fast.

his hands leave one side of your chest as his mouth attaches to your other nipple. you can’t help but moan at the feeling of him suckling at it. he pulls of for a second, and you can feel his hands fumbling with the fabric of your bottoms for a second.

“take this off for me?” he pleads in a sweet tone, and you can tell he’s starting to get needy. you comply, of course, leaving you in just your underwear. you don’t want to be the only one undressed though, so you shimmy his pants down a bit and get his shirt off too.

you’re left in both just underwear - a weird feeling. there’s not a lot of fabric separating your crotch and hamzah’s, so when he bucks his hips up into yours it feels good. he ducks down to kiss you again, chest pressing to yours, and god, you feel like you’re in heaven. there’s heat burning through your body as your bare skin touched his.

his hands are on your hips as you grind against him, the thin material of his boxers straining against his cock. he reaches down to rub you through your underwear, eliciting a moan as you hide his head in your shoulder.

he stops your grinding for a second, a hand trailing up your thigh. he uses it to spread your legs wide, causing you to make a small noise. he pulls your panties to the side, showing off what he’s wanted all this time.

he’s already settling lower, head balance with your hips, and now you’re nervous. it’s your first time being touched like this - probably his too, and it’s scary. you close your eyes when you feel him plant a kiss on your hip, teasing you. he continues to kiss around, even guiding a hand back up to play with your chest, but it’s not enough.

“please,” you whimper, begging for more stimulation. hamzah takes it as a sign you’re ready, and before you know it, you’re squirming again.

he presses just a single finger inside you, scoping how much you’re able to take. your stomach flips as you feel him spread you open. he adds another finger once the first one is in knuckle deep, then begins to curl them inside of you. you whimper at the feeling as his fingers excel in speed, working you open.

“hamzah- fuck.” you whine, letting out an especially sharp gasp at the feeling of his fingers hitting that spot.

“yeah?” he asks, playfully, curling his fingers to hit the same spot. your pelvis thrusts up at the movement, only motivating him to go further. his hands are so fucking big and he’s so strong when he thrusts his fingers up into you. it burns in the best way possible.

“ah- hamzah!” you squeal, squirming around. you whine when you feel him pull away from him; you were so, so close to finishing. you look up at him and whimper, a sad expression plastered across your face.

“didn’t want you to cum yet,” hamzah mutters under his breath. “not done with you.”

you flush red, his words washing over your body in a hot wave. suddenly hamzah is moving, pulling down his boxers, and god his dick is big. you can’t help but whine at how badly you want it inside you.

“so noisy.” he mumbles, lining his cock up with your folds and sliding the tip between them. you only whine more at his teasing.

“hamzahh,” you complain, eager for him to stop teasing you and just put it in.

“mhm?” he replies, edging you on. he strokes himself a bit, acts as if he’s going to put it in, but then doesn’t. he knows what he’s doing and you hate it. “need something, baby?”

he’s so mean, making you beg.

“I need it so bad, hamzah, pleeasee-“ you beg, desperate. you don’t care how humiliating it is now, you need him.

“need what, baby?” he asks, obviously only to get a reaction out of you. you sigh, but you know what you need to do.

“fuck me, hamzah. i need you - your cock.” you beg, no - demand, firmly.

hamzah doesn’t stall once he’s gotten what he wants. he’s done with the teasing, pressing his tip into you. you let out a shaky moan - it hurts a little when he slides in, like ripping off a bandaid.

“hamzah- hurts.” is all the words you can get out. his hips still inside of you, waiting for you to take a breath before he continues.

“it’s okay baby. gonna feel better once I’m all the way in.” he mutters, caressing your cheek with the hand that isn’t holding him up. he wasn’t lying - it’s painful as he slides himself into you, stretching you out, but once your hip-to-hip with him there’s a comfortable peace to the feeling.

you two lay in that position for a minute, feeling the warmth of connection between your bodies. it’s a soft, loving touch - you feel safe in his arms.

“s’okay if i move now?” he whispers to you, keeping a gentle tone. at the end of the day, he’s here to take care of you.

“yeah. thank you.” you say, genuinely grateful for his patience. you remind yourself that it’s his first time doing this too; you’re not alone in your anxiety.

you clutch onto his shoulders as he nearly pulls out, cock sliding out of you to the tip, then slams back into you.

“h-hamzah!” you whimper, clawing your nails at his back. he keeps a similar pace, thrusting into you deep. even hamzah makes a small noise at the feeling of being inside you, hips stuttering against yours. the sound of skin slapping together and breathy moans fills the room.

you wrap your arms and legs around hamzah as he continues to thrust into you, clinging to him.

“so pretty.” he says, looking down at you. “there’s a reason- fuck- i wanted to fuck you in missionary. pretty face.” he stutters, moving a hand to caress your face. you can’t say anything else but whimper at him, overstimulated from a combination of his thrusts and his words.

you feel a tight feeling build in your stomach, almost like a coil nearing its breaking point. you clench around him, legs beginning to shake.

“aah- hamzah! fuck-“ you practically scream, rolling your hips up into his one last time before you orgasm. he just stares at you, slowing the roll of his own hips, in awe.

you notice as his pace slows after you catch your breath, looking up at him almost disappointed.

“what’re you doing?” you mumble, voice worn out.

“you finished, i don’t wanna-“ he begins to ramble, but you cut him off.

“keep going.” you say firmly.

“huh?”

“want you to cum too.” you say, voice still soft and tired. you roll your hips up into him, still sensitive. he nods, pushing back into you.

he continues to thrust into you rougher and rougher until his hips are slapping against yours with every thrust. every little noise you make turns him on more, until finally, he forces himself to pull out of you.

he strokes himself on top of you, a string of cum landing on your stomach. he’s panting as he finishes all over you, painting your stomach white. you smile at the scene, enjoying the was he’s made you his little art piece.

he collapses next to you, laying on his back, catching his breath.

“glad i waited.” you mumble. he turns over to you, looking into your eyes.

“waited for what?” he asks, tiredly tilting his head.

“like, to have sex. m’glad I waited until you.” you mumble, tiredness apparent in your voice. hamzah thinks his heart melts a little at your words.

he grabs a tissue off of his bedside table and wipes the cum off of you so that he can pull you into his arms, dragging the covers over your body.

“i’m glad i waited for you too.”

#hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah smut #hamzahsmut

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catsteeth · 1 year ago

Text

Sugar & Violence

Podrick Payne x reader

+:✿ Chapter 1 ✿:+ : Lucky Boy

chapter 2

Summary: You’re a Mormont being held hostage by House Lannister. You are acting now as the Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell, whom you’ve grown quite close with. But it seems that a squire has caught your attention as you have caught his.

CW: afab reader, slow burn, mention violence, blood, mention of harassment, mention of NSFW themes.

A/N: I am not giving up on the leashed dog series yall I promise I have just been PINING for pod the rod recently… and tbh we need a little sweetness with everything happening in the other series okay. He is a rom com boy trapped in a medieval fantasy war and I feel so bad for him.

Word Count: 3348

It had been many days now being held by the Lannisters. You’d no real duties on Bear Island as it was such a small house. Your Aunt was a fierce leader and needed no guidance. You had chosen to venture off of Bear Island to celebrate your coming of age. You decided to travel all over the realm, you wished to see the world and experience all of it. However at a tavern near Kings Landing a man decided to grab at you. You hated it when men did that, so you took your cup of ale and smashed the whole cup into his nose.

It broke of course, and of course, like a child he wept. If a man had done such to another man no one would have batted an eye. But because it was a gold cloak you “assaulted”, and because you were you, a Mormont. An enemy house, you were arrested and brought to the Lannisters. They thought of killing you but instead decided to make use of you.

And they did make good use of you. With you there, Bear Island would be swayed away from ever siding with Stannis against them with you in your custody. Not only that but you were trained in healing, and not nearly as hardened looking as the other women of Bear Island. You were made Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell while she was inhabiting the city.

Margery had done her part in helping you fit in. She showed you how to style your hair, how to pick a dress that suited your figure, how to manipulate the men around you, keeping you out of any more unnecessary trouble. When she dressed you up, no one would be able to tell you could swing a sword just as well as any Kingsgaurd or sellsword could.

You see Margery had to pretend in front of everyone else, but with you, you weren’t loyal to the Lannisters and she knew this. Besides you two had bonded after many nights drinking wine late at night in her bedchambers. Like two little girls who had stolen their fathers ale. You’d spend the nights talking of your lives and your wishes.

Margery was the same again and again, to be the queen. And yours was always the same, to live life and experience all you could.

You and she also talked of men. You’d had experience, and so had she. Not many women would admit it but you two were close enough that you felt you could.

You and she attended many festive celebrations with one another, and to anyone else it would seem you were enjoying your time there. That was good, you did not want to attract any attention.

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Your station as a handmaiden made it easy to overhear and eavesdrop on many high born conversations. One that caught your attention the most was that Janos Slynt, the commander of the gold cloaks, the man who arrested you, was going to be dismissed from his duty.

You weren’t above pettiness. You wanted to hear him be dismissed with your own ears. You found a small room within the castle. Tyrion was hosting a small dinner with Slynt. This was going to be the dinner where he was going to be dismissed. You pressed your back against the wall beside the door listening in. The majority of the dinner was mindless small talk, until

“Damn it boy!” Slynt said loudly.

The shout was so loud you couldn’t help but turn and peer into the room, catching a glimpse of the man who arrested you, Lord Tyrion Lannister, and a squire. You saw that the squire had spilt wine all over the hand of Slynt. It made you smile, holding in amusement.

“My apologies my Lord.” The shorter brown haired squire said.

“You can pour your own wine.” Tyrion said in defense of the squire.

You looked back to Slynt and saw that you had been seen, Slynt raised a brow at you.

“You girl! You the Mormont?" Slynt said loudly,

‘Fuck’ you thought to yourself. Knowing you’d been caught.

“Indeed, My Lord.” You said, putting on a meek and sweet demeanor.

“Come in here,” Slynt commanded.

“What are you doing here, My Lady?” Tyrion questioned you gently.

“Looking for my Lady Tyrell, I seem to have lost my way, My Lord.” You said bowing your head. A convincing enough lie.

“I was responsible for your arrest, do you remember that, girl.” His face was confident and irritating.

“I do, Ser.” You said still attempting to keep a sweet and calm demeanor.

“I thought she was to be punished?” Slynt said to Tyrion.

“She is HandMaiden to Lady Margery Tyrell, and as I am told, a very skilled healer. She has proven to be quite useful.” Lord Tyrion said with a smile looking at you, you smiled back.

“A girl assaults a member of the gold cloaks and is given a position in your Kingdom?”

“A decision made by the King. If you wish to disagree with his decision-”

“Course not.” Slynt interrupted, “Wine,” he commanded, holding up his empty cup.

The same squire began to walk towards the man with the pitcher of wine.

“Not you, boy, the bear girl.” Slynt said looking at you, the irritation boiled inside of you. But you did your best to keep your cool.

You took the pitcher from the squires hands, you looked at him for a moment, his worried expression changed into a smile. It was a smile of total innocence you thought to yourself.

You took the pitcher and walked your way towards the table, as you began to pour wine into his cup he started to speak again.

“Tell me girl, are you enjoying the city?” His tone was one of an interrogator.

“Yes, My Lord.” You said pouring, with a cherubic smile.

“You don’t look like the women of Bear Island.” He said biting his lip, it made you feel ill.

“Indeed, My Lord.” Agree blindly, that’s what Margery taught you anyway

“Women there are beasts,” He said to Tyrion.

“Like you I assume?” Tyrion teased him, it made you smile.

“No, no, like her aunt Maege.” He said and your smile dwindled, but you kept it on.

You didn’t respond this time, biting your tongue, you felt the anger in you rising but said nothing. You wanted to pour the wine on his balding head, but still, did nothing.

“Tell me is it true, is it true she fucked a bear?”

“Lord Slyn-” Tyrion began

“What do you wish for me to say, my Lord?” You felt your temper slipping from between your fingertips. Your smile now gone.

“Do you think I wish for you to lie girl?” Slynt’s tone was harsh,

You stared at him for a moment, your smile snapping back into place.

“Whatever you’d command, my Lord.”

“Enough.” Tyrion tried to stop it.

“You’d do anything I commanded?”

“I said enough. Lady Mormont, you may see to your lady.” Tyrion commanded, saving you from whatever was to come next.

You smiled and curtseyed as you walked back to place the pitcher back on the table. With your back turned to the men your face dropped and you made eye contact with the same squire. He looked at you with pity in his eyes. You couldn’t stand it. You spit into the pitcher and smiled at the squire, he tried hard to hold back his amusement, only giving it away with a smirk as he looked down at his feet.

As you walked out of the room you made sure not to make the same mistake as before. You hid better, committed to hearing this man be removed from his position. And you did, and it was just as satisfying as you thought it would be. Especially when he was escorted by his own gold cloaks out of the tower, kicking and whining like a child.

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During the Battle of Blackwater you attended to many mens wounds.

It had taken most of the night, you were not concerned with the war that waged outside the castle walls. If they won, nothing changed for you. If they lost, you’d either be set free, or once again, nothing would change. Most likely it would be the latter.

You among a few other ladies attended to wounds and dying men while the Maester did as much as he could for those who were far gone.

Things had slowed down, beds were nearly full, but then knights rushed in holding Lord Tyrion. His face had been cut deeply. The cut had crossed his entire face. You could tell at first glance that it would scar, but he would live. It would have been extremely painful but thankfully he was unconscious.

They were all shouting at the Maester. To halt what he was doing and to attend to their lord. As he did a tall man, Bronn, the man who replaced Slynt. Dragged a shorter man with short dark hair towards the Maester.

“Lads hand is cut deep, needs help.” Bronn said

“I can’t attend to every cut and scrape when there's a dying lord in my presence.” The old Maester said, quite dramatically you thought. Tyrion was badly wounded but he would live. “Mormont, girl, you attend to the lad!” He shouted to you.

“Is she any good?” Bronn said, the other shorter man looked at you with what looked like embarrassment, “This lad saved that Lord's life.” You huffed at his comment, it annoyed you how he didn’t ask you but the Maester.

“If I’d a cock they’d call me a Maester.” You said walking closer to him til you were inches apart, it made him take a gasp of air puffing up his chest, and his lips formed a line. “Show me,” You said, much softer this time. He relaxed a bit and as you presented your hand, palm facing him. He placed his hand in yours. “Not so bad,” you said as you examined it.

“Hear that Podrick, not bad-” Bronn said to the shorter man.

“Not so bad. It is still bad.” You noticed his expression change to a more worried one. You, for some reason, felt the need to let your cold and hardened attitude slip for a moment. “But you won’t lose it. I’ll clean it, stitch it, and bandage it.” You placed your other hand over his, trying to comfort him. “Sit.”

He nodded and did so, laying his hand on the table. You began to clean it. Your eyes snapped from his wound to his face as he winced. “Is it true?” he looked at you and his eyes made your stomach feel like there were butterflies in it, so you looked back to his wound as you tended to it, “You saved him? Lord Tyrion?”

“I- I helped him, My Lady.” He said, stammering. Though you weren’t looking at him you could tell his eyes were on your face.

“You’re quite brave, Ser.” You said as you finished cleaning his wound.

“Thank you, My Lady, but I’m not-”

“He’s no Ser, that lads a squire.” Bronn interrupted, “I tell you what though Lass, you want a knight I’ll be happy to oblige.” He said stepping closer to you, your eyes returned to your work on the squires hand.

“Men like you amuse me, Ser. They believe they are still young, handsome, and desirable. No matter what they look like.” You said attempting to fain genuine amusement as if he’d told a joke.

As Bronn attempted to begin a retort, you heard a small laugh leave the unconscious Lord’s lips, still not fully conscious.

“See? I am a good healer.” You said as everyone looked at Tyrion's subtle laugh as you continued to work.

The squire looked back at you with a slight grin, as if he were trying to hide his amusement.

“Much braver for a squire to do such a thing.” You said softly just so he’d hear it.

He smiled at you in response, He was pretty you thought. Men on Bear Island were fearsome, rigid, and gruff. This one wasn’t, the opposite in fact. He’d had a natural goodness about him, a sweetness.

That's when you realized he was the same squire from the dinner between Ser Slynt and Lord Tyrion.

“I know you.” You said with narrow eyes and furrowed brows, finally realizing.

“Yes, my Lady.” His smile and innocent response made you smile involuntarily, you tried to hide it to no avail. You were flattered that he’d even remembered you. The feeling of flattery didn’t come naturally to you at all either.

“This part is going to hurt.” You said pulling the curved needle through his flesh, he winced and hissed. Your eyes went towards him, normally you never cared. A man should learn to handle pain, you always thought. But you hated to see him in any discomfort. “Bring him wine.” You called out to Bronn. Your words towards Bronn were no near as gentle and sweet sounding as they were towards Podrick.

He began to drink it, only sipping a little at first, but you pushed the cup up making him down more. “You’ll want to be numb to this.” You explained.

As he continued to drink you continued with your work. By the end of it you bandaged his hand, “Finished,” You said standing up, and he followed your actions.

“I can’t thank you enough, my lady.” He said clearly a little drunk from the wine.

“Alright,” Bronn said grabbing Podrick by the back of his neck and dragged him out of the chamber. You could hear Bronn outside say “You can fuck the she-bear later.” followed by some distant protesting by Podrick.

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A day had passed since the battle. You were in your chambers with Margery. You’d told her about all the handsome knights you’d seen that night.

She’d teased you about how lucky you were to have gotten your hands on so many. You had begun to describe the squire you’d met. How strange it was to have met a man so pleasant in such an awful place.

As the two of you laughed there was a knock at your door. Margery took it upon herself to answer it.

“Lady Tyrell, apologies for the interruption. I came to thank Lady Mormont.” You heard his voice and knew who it was immediately.

“Ah! I take it you were a knight she tended to during the battle?” Margery asked him, you wanted to laugh, but held it in.

“A squire, my Lady.” He said, his tone was somewhat sullen. As if he were embarrassed to say it.

“A squire…” Margery said with her signature smile as she turned to look at you, raising her eyebrows, then turning back to him “Well I shall leave you to express your gratitude.” She said as she left.

You stood from your chair and stepped forward.

“Lady Mormont?” He said walking towards you, as he did he pulled out a small but beautiful delicate yellow flower. It had only recently bloomed.

“A flower?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. On Bear Island people hardly said the word thank you much less showed appreciation through gifts, especially not such sweet ones as this.

“I don’t have much, my lady. But I- I wanted to show my gratitude.” He said with his token innocent wide eyed look. You took the flower and smiled slightly, which made him smile back.

“It was my duty, you don’t need to give me flowers for it.” He looked down, as if he was disappointed in himself. You smelt the flower, to show your hidden appreciation of the gesture. “Show me your hand.” You held your hands out, he hesitated not expecting you to command such a thing, but he did it as you asked. “Hurting at all?” You asked softly examining the cut.

“No, my lady.” His voice was gentle as always.

“It’s healing well.” You said running your finger tip along the length of the stitches, the sensation made him take his hand away, rubbing it against the side of his pants.

He grunted a little and cleared his throat, “All your doing, my Lady.”

You looked at him with a smirk, “How long have you been squiring for Lord Tyrion?”

“For a short time,”

“Well, you’ll need to learn to pour wine. You spill wine on every Lord in Westeros, sooner or later you’ll spill it on the wrong one.” You said walking towards a table, you grabbed a glass and a pitcher of wine.

“Pour me wine.” You said handing him a pitcher of wine.

You stepped closer towards him, making his swallow hard. But he took the pitcher nonetheless.

“hold the pitcher like this-“ You said moving his hands position with your own, “from the handle, and the bottom” You looked up into his eyes, noticing he was looking right at you “Keep your eyes on the glass.” You said, snapping him out of whatever trance he was in and going back to the task at hand.

“Like this?” He asked, his voice somewhat more confident.

“Mhmm.” The hum of your voice too close to him made him close his eyes for just a moment. He finished filling your cup, without spilling a drop, “Very good.” As you said it he and you looked at one another, his eyes were wide once again.

“What were you doing there, my lady?” He asked, with a genuine curiosity. “You said you were looking for your Lady, and forgive me for suspecting otherwise-”

“Eavesdropping.” You interrupted “I had heard they were sending Slynt away, and I wanted to hear it myself.”

“How did you hear of that?”

“Again, eavesdropping.” You smirked

“A-and what are you doing here, in Westeros? You were arrested?”

“It seems you were also eavesdropping.” You teased him.

“Uh well we were in the same room-” You ignored him,

“I left Bear Island to travel, during my travels a Gold cloak tried to force himself on me, so I defended myself.” You said in a matter of fact, you’d no regrets, and no pain towards the matter. However his big brown eyes looked saddened for you, pity, you couldn’t stand pity, “It’s alright, really.” You said trying to reassure him.

“Do you miss your home?” He asked, sweetly.

“I do,” You responded softly, strange how this man was able to gentle your harsh demeanor.

“What was it like?” When he asked it you were thrown off, no one had asked you anything about your home in a genuine way. No one had any interest in it beyond the same constant boring insults.

“Cold. Not just the temperature, the people. But it was beautiful there. Green, rivers, waterfalls.” You smiled softly thinking of it, and found yourself wondering about him, “What of you? You miss your home?”

“I didn’t have much of one, my Lady.” He lowered his head,

“How’d you get here?” Your eyes narrowed wanting to know more of him. Genuinely.

“I was the squire for a Ser Lorimer of the Westerlands army. One night he was drunk, and he stole a ham, he shared it with me. We were caught, and he was sentenced to hang for his crime but I was spared for my name.”

“Lucky boy.” You said with a smirk. One that made his stomach flip.

“You are different, with the men at the tables. You’re sweet and… simple- but you're not that.” He said, stammering, trying his best not to offend you.

Your smirk faded, “Men want sweet and simple. Men don’t beat things that are sweet and simple.”

“You’ve been beaten?” He asked as if it were a horrific discovery.

“Most girls have.” You said calmly in contrast

“I-I am sorry, My Lady.”

“That’s alright. "

“No, it’s not.”

“No, it’s not.” You smiled softly at him. “You’re a good man, for a southern man. Or just for a man.”

“Thank you, my lady.” He said with a slight grin.

“You don’t have to call me that. (Y/N), will do.”

“(Y/N)” he smiled to himself “(Y/N) Mormont… it is a pretty name.” His grin grew

“You never told me yours.”

“Ser Bronn told you-“

“But you never told me.” You interrupted.

“Podrick Payne, my- (Y/N)” He stumbled remembering to call you by your name.

“Well, goodnight then, my Podrick.” You said teasingly with a smirk.

Hearing you say those words, “my” followed by his name made a heat rush his face, a visible one. He licked his lips and bowed his head as he responded “Goodnight, (Y/N)” He said as he left you.

You smelt the flower once more before Margery barged in,

“A squire?”

NOTE: There is a serious drought of Podrick Payne fan fiction series on this app so I had to. And yes… as always my babygirls, we will be fucking. JUST HOLD ON… I don’t know dick about Slynt so his dialogue is probably off so i apologize if you love him or smth lmao. TAG LIST: This is a new series so if you want to be included comment or message me!

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