#imagine if he goes on podium
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ynbabe · 6 months ago
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LOGAN SARGEANT ENJOYERS WE ARE SO BACK
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1337wtfomgbbq · 1 year ago
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Podium ceremony of the Tour de France 1996
I needed to gif this and point out to everyone the way Bjarne smiles down at Jan, before pulling him up onto the second step of the podium.
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And how Jan doesn't seem able to help himself. How he needs to step onto the podium next to Bjarne as soon as he can.
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Like, look at how quick that move was.
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inlovewithl3vi · 4 months ago
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imagine belphie, who purposely stays awake after you to watch you sleep.
but not in like a cute studying your features before he goes to bed kinda way, in a he's a deranged demon that's obsessed with you kinda way.
He likes to watch your face, a peaceful expression takes over your features. he likes to watch your chest rise and fall in a rhythmic pattern. he likes to watch you because he knows only he will be able to see you like this. at peace and vulnerable.
His favorite is when he notices the sound of your heartbeat. demons have especially good hearing compared to humans, and he can hear things you can't, like your heart beating in your chest. he likes knowing that it's his. if you ever decide to get away from him and run away to someone else he's already made up his mind that he'll find you and rip your heart out of your chest just to know he still has it.
he likes the almost angelic looking look on your face when you sleep. Sometimes he can't decide if he should dress you up and put you on a podium to look at you and take in your innocence, or if he should ruin you and make you lose that innocence. you really should hope he picks the first one.
no matter what, your never getting away. you'll be lucky if he allows Beel to see you. he might just lock you in the attic and keep a magic seal that you cant break.
(he might have to watch out for Solomon though. he can break that seal, and he can take you to the human world and lock you up where no demon can find you)
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sorryimananti-romantic · 20 days ago
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Ateez as Villains
disclaimer: read at your own risk. do not interact if not comfortable with any tropes. reminder that this is a work of fiction and must be treated so. 
warnings: absolutely no morals here, 18+ mdni, illegal acts (abduction, murder, physical abuse, stalking, trafficking, financial crimes, dirty politics, corruption), suggestive/nsfw scenes, explicit language (swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, smoking, drugs, alcohol
a/n: couldn't have done this without @eightmakesonebraincell's and @chronicvagabonds' validation lmao also tribute to tite kubo for coming up with the juiciest dialogues, some of which i quoted here
Hongjoong
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The Manipulator
hongjoong always knew he had leadership skills
from being the team leader whenever he played games as a young child, to growing up and eventually influencing people
he was often told that he has a certain way of pulling people’s attention and leave something stirring inside them with his words
so it is no surprise that hongjoong is where he is today. a renowned businessman, philanthropist and… politician
hongjoong adjusts the sleeves of his shirt and glances at you from the mirror
you are standing behind him, holding his coat for him. he wears it with a proud smile and holds his chin high
“tonight is very important. for me. for this country.” 
he goes on about how there will be people from all over the country
people who are the foundation of this nation. people who care about the future of this world 
and if you weren’t so blinded by the adoration you have for this man you would have called him delusional
but the fact is that you are deluded by him. hongjoong has the ability to cast a spell with his words
he feeds his supporters the lie of a better world in the near future, and they bow to him
hongjoong smiles devilishly at the thought of what entails the events of tonight
he can picture it clearly- the cheers and desperate screams of his followers as he steps on the podium
the cries of these people, as helpless as sheeps in a herd, waiting for an upright politician to save this nation 
he can feel the thrill just imagining what it will be like tonight when he addresses the nation as the new face of his political party
to a common person, he would just be another man with a good heart striving for a better change
but the common person is weak, and for them… he is their salvation
they will hear his words tonight- words he has carefully crafted himself. the cues will register in their minds, and they will end up seeking him to announce their undying support and loyalty, to shower in his glory
you straighten hongjoong’s coat and smooth over his shirt, your hands unsteady with anticipation
“aren’t you happy to be right next to me when i conquer the stage tonight?” he whispers, lifting your chin up
you meet his eyes and he can see his answer there
you hope he doesn’t see the conflict in your eyes. the conflict is to be concealed in your heart, in the deepest, untouchable corner of it
you are blessed, they tell you, to be the politician’s favoured
and you are- you truly are. hongjoong loves you. he adores you
in fact… he’s almost obsessed with you
and why wouldn’t he be? you were the one who led him here
you were the one who held his hand and showed him the right path- his partner, and now his secretary
oh, how you sometimes wish you could turn back the hands of the clock and go back to when hongjoong was hopeless and thought that the world was a wretched place beyond saving
that is when you told him that the only way to run this world was to join hands with the elites of this nation- or to become one
it must be the fates that led him to where he is today
after all, isn’t he a king without a crown? a ruler without a throne?
he is a born leader and a strategist. he has always been good with his words
it’s how he earned the favour and graces of the elites and the politicians and made a place for himself- not under them, but beside them
but to stand beside those people, you have to be a little… corrupt. and morally ambiguous
the world is not run by saints, after all
“sweetheart?” he calls when he sees you are distracted
you don’t miss the warning tone in his voice. tonight, you have to be on your toes
you have to seek out willing supporters and show them that they mean the world to hongjoong and his political party
but more importantly… you need to target other politicians, find their weaknesses and if lucky, have some join hands with you
“i’m here,” you tell him and he nods firmly, pressing a kiss to your temple
“i will see you tonight,” he promises, and you know what he means
he always gets such a thrill out of playing the leader
he gets so much energy, and he has to take it out one way or another
and what better way to take it out in the form of lovemaking?
you feel warmth course through your body as he trails his finger down the middle of your chest purposely
he almost smiles maniacally as he leaves first, giving you a moment to gather your wits
you pour yourself a glass of drink- you can’t possibly do this sober
you join hongjoong as he gives his first speech- a very normal talk about how this nation is on the verge of collapse
corruption, crime, inhumanity, dirty politics? you name it
you admire his resilience, really. whatever he is talking about comes straight from his heart, and he has been talking about these issues for a long time now
you also admire his pompousness and the audacity to talk about dirty politics, when he is the face of dirty politics
you join the audience when they clap for him, your heart full of pride
there is a break where he meets with the high-profile people and asks them to consider joining hands with him
‘to make a better world for the future generations’. such inspiring words from such a young political leader
except hongjoong’s trick is that he always, always has something over them
he has a team dedicated specifically for this task- to dig dirt on his political targets so he can wield them like the blade of a guillotine over their heads
despite his evil means to climb the top, somehow, his image and reputation remains far too clean
and that is because he knows to take these actions behind the scenes, away from any eyes
a true politician, he’s been dubbed
it is about midnight when the hall almost empties, leaving only the members of your party and some new faces- people who are willing to hear him out and decide if they want to join his party
you wish you could tell them that it is a trap- hongjoong will promise that their efforts and support will lead them to something great
‘the greater good’, he always says, except these people do not know what they are getting into
they are merely sacrificial lambs, the stepping stones that will lead hongjoong closer to his utopia
they will, for the sake of loyalty, put a blindfold over their eyes. they will hold him in high reverence as he becomes their lord, their saviour
he will feed them copper pellets and claim that this is the best that they can get while he himself sits on a throne made of gold
and when they empty every last drop of whatever they have to offer- their blood, sweat and tears
hongjoong will discard them without remorse. that is who he is- a master manipulator
when you are done wrapping up the event in the deep, dark hours of the night, hongjoong finds you in your bedroom
his chest is heaving with energy that is threatening to combust from within him
he outstretches his hand and you saunter over to him
his hands are dominating when he holds you, though his kiss is soft and unrushed
until that too becomes scalding hot
he is quick to lead you to the couch where you sit on his lap, finding him painfully hard
he groans loudly and starts to unbuckle his pants, and you instantly know what he wants- you always know what he wants
he easily slides his hard length inside your warmth and groans heavily in relief, resting his head back and just letting you both stay still
you only move to rest your head against his shoulder. he can have you like this for as long as he wants
“we have a lot of new supporters tonight,” he begins, chuckling deeply, “the polls seem to be in our favour too.”
his dark curls caress your face as you snuggle against him
“we also managed to score deals with many influential politicians and businessmen tonight,” he tells you and you look at him with pride as he names them
“soon,” he begins, trailing his hands under your dress and squeezing your thighs, “soon… we will have our people in every sector- in business, healthcare, industrial, courts… we will be controlling the nation- we… we are the leaders of this nation.”
his cock twitches inside you as he finishes that sentence and you bite your lips in thought
“what are you thinking, love?” he asks, caressing your face
“i just sometimes wonder,” you begin- can you admit your bare thoughts to him?
he squeezes your thigh as a sign to go ahead
“i wonder how we got here, joong,” you admit, “you know that we are exploiting people-”
“for the greater good-”
“for the greater good, yes,” you finish, nodding and he furrows his brows in concentration
“these people are just like us. we were once slaves of this society, but now we are the leaders. and they are our slaves. but…”
“they will offer us what they have,” hongjoong replies softly, “and we will make the best out of it. isn’t that right?”
you nod. there is no more space for any more questioning
you have never like the darkness in his eyes when you question his- your- methods
all he knows is that he is right
he knows what he is doing is wrong in essence, but it is about the bigger picture- he is doing this for his nation
and you cannot expect to run a nation claiming to be a saint
the nation is run by wolves, and to make space there, you must be some sort of a predator. that is who he has become
his grip on your thighs tighten and he starts to grind your body on him
between the sounds of pleasure is the groan of pain as he spanks your thighs and remind you of your place
“all you have to do is follow me,” he breathes into your ear, trailing his lips across your cheek. “all you have to do is stay with me. together…” he thrusts hard inside you. “together, we will rule the world one day, you and i.”
you nod and he swallows your moans as he kisses you, thrusting with all his might until you both come crashing down
he takes you to the shower and you both quickly clean up and get in bed
as you watch his figure relax and succumb to sleep, you confess to him
“you are a great politician, hongjoong,” you tell him and the corners of his lips curl in a smile. “i’m just afraid of going too far with you. every day, we learn that we can get worse than we are, yet…”
“yet, it has become my addiction and my duty,” he whispers, hand finding your bare arm and caressing it. “don’t you want to rule the world?”
“you will rule the world. i will be treading on your shadow, following you closely and sharpening my teeth… but afraid.”
“afraid of what?”
“of you,” you breathe and he opens one eye
“you won’t leave me, will you?” he asks innocently, yet it is there- the warning in his tone
you are responsible for who he is today. you are an accomplice
every person he ruins to get closer to the top, you are equally responsible for it
“of course not,” you tell him, “i can’t leave you.”
hongjoong notices your choice of words
you can not leave him- you do not have a choice
he holds you close and kisses you like he means it that night
it would be such a shame if he would have to throw you away after all of this, right? 
it would truly be such a shame if you are just like the others in the end- weak and helpless
since you know exactly what is going on inside hongjoong’s head, you tell him you love him like you really mean it and you let him hold you close
it may be a trap, but you don’t mind being trapped if this is where you end up every night- in his arms
your lord, your saviour
The Manipulator and the Manipulated
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Seonghwa
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Jekyll
park seonghwa is a man who is adored wherever he goes
be it at work- at a prestigious university as a neuroscience professor, dr. park, or at social gatherings, formal or informal
he is a man born with the best manners, the most caring and generous heart
you’ve seen him around the department as a masters student and attended a few of his classes 
but you never got to interact with him personally until it’s time to choose a thesis supervisor and you learn that you have a chance with him
it’s purely because he’s amazing at what he does 
your subfield matches with his specialty so it will be better if he’s your supervisor (and it’s only a bonus that the man is painfully hot so you’ll never be bored)
your professor recommends you to seonghwa and he goes over your synopsis which leaves him intrigued because coincidentally, he’s researching in molecular neuroscience as well
he gladly takes you on because he believes you both will be helping each other along the way
plus, he recognises your name- you’ve always had a different air about you (and he remembers you from somewhere else too)
he’s looking forward to working with you, that’s all
so when you arrive on your first day as his supervisee and research assistant
you catch him in his natural habitat- unaware of his surroundings, humming a tune to himself and swiping his hair hurriedly to the side with the hand that’s holding a clear solution of some sort while struggling not to drop his notes on the table that has a few microscope slides 
basically, moments away from a disaster
he spots you and grunts as if asking for help and you immediately drop your bag to rush towards him, only now noticing that somehow, he’s holding his glasses by his teeth
you first take those out of his mouth and he groans in relief. “can you please help me wear my glasses? those cultures are moments away from expiring.”
“oh goodness,” you mutter and you lock eyes with him as you put on his glasses for him
and your intrusive thoughts take over because you simply cannot take how his hair is poking his eyes so you gently brush his hair out of his eyes
for a moment, time is frozen for all sorts of reasons
before seonghwa takes a deep breath and you blink, immediately getting out of his way and holding his notes for him
the notes apparently hold the readings on how much solution he needs to pour so you read it for him and consequently save him from a disaster
as soon as he is done freezing the cultures, he holds the edge of the table to save himself from slumping in relief
and you share a laugh, the ice breaking just like that
he tells you that the student assigned for taking care of the cultures had an emergency and he had to rush from another department
and he thanks you for helping him
you both move to his office to go over your thesis and he helps you create a timeline
you wrap up the meeting with a clear direction of what’s next and with a schedule of shifts where you will be assisting him
it doesn’t take long to get used to being a part of his team of five calm students with a little streak of crazy
and you suppose dr. park has an eye for people like that because you fit right in
you are all very dedicated so he seems to be at ease when you are working, though he does monitor you more closely since you’re new
you start to spend more time in the lab simply because you like how it feels there
it is like a little cocoon where you can tune out the rest of the world and work on your thesis without distractions (plus, it helps how people from your team pop in once in a while to throw some suggestions at you)
you like how it is there- neat and clean
the sound of metal against metal, glass against glass. the smell of the cleaning agent which calms you since it is something familiar now
and then there’s dr. park himself, gentle and composed, yet at times clumsy and rough which results in the room cackling with laughter
however, there’s a side to him that you only see when you’re alone with him
you’re not sure if he’s like that with everyone- he must be, right?
does he pay as much attention to everyone else as you?
perhaps, you’re delusional. that must be it
seonghwa knows you must think that, because he has not been very obvious but he has not been subtle either
it’s just that he remembers you from that time. he remembers seeing your face in his friend wooyoung’s data
wooyoung, who is an expert at singling out people like them
people like seonghwa who have a little streak of crazy in them, yet manage to be a part of the society almost seamlessly
wooyoung’s company does a good job at managing these people because they ultimately help the black market grow
seonghwa is half convinced wooyoung’s company is just a faction of the government but of course he can’t confirm that
all he knows is that he cannot act out too much and get caught
in return, he knows when someone like him is in his radar
here you are, glasses perched on the tip of your nose as you examine different slides under the microscope, muttering to yourself about the readings as your scribble them
he can’t help but notice how you always wear that one specific shade of deep red on your lips or how your hair falls in the most irresistible way in front of your face
he’s never looked at a student this way- ever- but you’re not just a student now, are you?
so when he makes his move, approaching you from behind as silently as he can
he’s not disappointed when you turn- he didn’t make a sound, yet you knew
you’re not even surprised, and that excites seonghwa to no end
“ah, dr. park,” you go casually, as if him sneaking behind you was normal behaviour. “can you approve of these hypotheses?”
seonghwa hums and stands awfully close to you, your sides brushing against each other
he purposely crowds in your personal space as he leans in to confirm the readings of the specimens on the table
“everything’s perfect,” he announces, meeting your eyes
you’re still sitting so you have to look up at him and lord. what a sight he is even from this angle. you could totally get used to it-
“what are you looking at, sweetheart?” seonghwa smirks knowingly 
you have to physically struggle to maintain your composure because you are pretty sure you were gawking
“nothing, just zoned out,” you say, which isn’t a lie but not the whole truth either
he knows though. he knows the effect he has on you because he hasn’t been subtle
from the casual touches to the unnecessary (but not undeserved) praise
from the prolonged eye contact to the suggestive smirks
there is something electric between the two of you, an undeniable tension
and while you’re not one who sticks to the rules, you can’t help but wonder just why is dr. park playing with you?
“you sure you’re okay?” seonghwa leans in and searches your eyes for any signs of lies
upon finding none but gaining satisfaction from the way your lips part in surprise, he draws back 
you try your best not to make things awkward for the rest of the time you’re with him
and in the following days, his advances only start becoming stronger in nature
you like the attention he gives you. you like how he always puts his hands on your shoulders and gives them a little squeeze whenever he finds you sitting
you like the way his warm breath caresses your cheek when you’re both sitting side by side inspecting a specimen
you enjoy the sound of his gentle voice as he instructs you
it’s almost as if he knows. it’s almost as if he’s asking for it
does he not know that once you become obsessed with something, you’ll try- no, you will possess it at all costs?
so one night when you’re both working at late hours, busy with wrapping up one section of your thesis
you can’t take it when seonghwa scolds you teasingly for being clumsy 
“you’ve got pen on your chin,” he says and before you can take care of it, he himself scoots closer-
too close for it to be professional anymore because at this point, he can probably count the freckles on your face too-
and begins to rub at your the skin near your lips gently
he frowns when it doesn’t come off, and then he has the audacity to lick his thumb and rub your skin again
“dr. park,” you mutter, about to remind him how you are supposed to be a teacher and student
you’re not friends (despite the very friendly relationship you have developed with him)
seonghwa only hums and you can’t help but notice how he stifles a smirk as he moves his thumb to your lower lip and swipes it, all the while maintaining eye contact
you raise a brow in challenge, silently questioning why he’s still holding your chin
he leans in as if to kiss you and you stop breathing
except he tilts his head to whisper in your ear
“would you like to attend the next soul society meeting with me, love?”
to say that you freeze is an understatement
you don’t move when his lips caress your cheeks as he stays in that position
you don’t move when he purposely trails his lips along your cheek as he draws back
“what’s your classification?” you manage to ask, your voice barely a whisper
the way seonghwa smirks is something you’ll never forget
“jekyll,” he says. “nice to meet you, hyde.”
there’s a moment of silence where all you can do is stare at the man in front of you
a moment of pure static
as soon as you take off your mask and your lips curl in a smirk, it happens
you don’t know who took the first step but you’re both kissing each other
it’s rushed, passionate and desperate, the air filling with your grins and giggles and you’re only glad you’re not in the lab right now because the way seonghwa clears the table with a swipe of his hand, making the notes fall on the ground
only to lift you up and seat you there so he can kiss you better? being in the lab would have done some damage alright
between kisses, you learn how seonghwa recognised you
you ask him if he lured you here somehow, but he tells you it’s just luck that you’re here as his student right now. you don’t quite believe him though
but you let it be- if he’s jekyll, that means he’s got the brains to scheme
he tells you that he’s glad to have found his hyde because he would prefer someone else to do his dirty work for him
you agree- it’s been far too long since you’ve had an adventure, and you’ve heard about the notorious jekyll in the soul society too. you just never connected the dots
he takes you to his private lab (not before feasting on you and fucking you on that very table)
for the next few weeks, you familiarise yourself with his actual research
mind altering chemicals and drugs, anything to do with control
very illegal stuff, but the soul society funds him with whatever he needs
he can’t believe he found you- you’re perfect for him
seonghwa believes he has morals and he can be a good person
so you make the perfect partner because you can be the bad person in his stead
you’re his alter ego, the voice in his head that he never lets come out
you’re the person who not only matches his freak but helps bring it into manifestation. you are now his face
while he advances in molecular neuroscience in the world, you advance, on his behalf, in the underworld
there’s no blood on your hands- you both only produce drugs. you’re not responsible for what is done with them
you do sometimes assist in the practical work, which seonghwa avoids, because after all, he has a reputation to maintain as dr. park
no one suspects a thing. you’re just supervisor and supervisee who share a similar obsession with research
nothing to worry about
Jekyll and Hyde
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Yunho
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The Hunter
when you finally got to a blind date that your friend begged you to go to, you didn’t expect to meet a man who would actually catch your eye
there is something about this man, jeong yunho, that instantly pulls you in as if you really are tied by a thread 
for starters, he is incredibly handsome and has a soft vibe to him that exudes warmth
his voice has a soothing quality and his mannerisms are as gentle as his gaze. his laugh is pure and he makes quite a good company
he just makes you feel comfortable and safe right away, which is kind of surprising
so when yunho tells you about himself, confirming that he is indeed a corporate lawyer at a well-known firm, you are simply in awe
you thought your friend was bluffing when she told you that she is trying to set you up with a ‘beauty with brains’
she was not lying, is all you can think now
you’re a simple school teacher, you tell yunho with a laugh
however, the man’s eyes are practically twinkling as he hears your stories about school 
you’re only telling him because he insisted, and now he can’t stop appreciating your profession, saying that it’s admirable how you are able to connect with children and educate them
the conversation steers to your likes and dislikes, your preferences, and what you’re looking for in a partner
surprisingly, the two of you have a lot in common
you both have a special place in your heart for food. you both love travelling. and there are some things he does not need to say out loud 
like how he’s a caring person- always making sure you’re comfortable and your bowl is full, draping his coat over your shoulders when you leave the restaurant and scour the streets for something sweet
the hand that he offers you is not suggestive and you like that (you also like how tall he is and how his hand engulfs yours almost entirely)
just two people who talk about anything and everything- that’s who you become by the end of the night
as you settle in bed later, you’re still smiling about how his eyes twinkled when he learned that you too have a thing for gaming too
you have good feelings about this person so far but there’s a feeling scratching at your heart that has you restless
it is the way his eyes darkened almost dangerously, only momentarily, when you insisted that you could get home on your own
he was a gentleman, no doubt about it, insisting that you could never be too sure these days especially with the news being so horrible lately, the crime rate spiking up dramatically in the past few months
you just did not like the idea of having a stranger accompany you all the way to your home, even if it was this gentleman- this was only your first meeting
so he made you promise to call him and let him know when you get home 
and here you are. you dated him for a few months before you both decided to move in together into an apartment that suited your needs
he’s perfect in every way- attentive, responsive, caring, funny, and he gives you space when you need it
which matters the most because you value your personal space a lot
he understands the importance of personal space very well and even though you share a room, you both let each other be 
you let him be when he’s gaming, and he lets you be when you’re staring at the ceiling or reading
more often though, he’ll have you sit on his lap as he games
since he’s so much bigger than you, you’ll curl on top of him to read or scroll and he’ll be focused on his game, liking your presence
it doesn’t always lead to something but when it does, it’s always fun
he has you smitten- his kisses still make you feel like it’s your first time sharing a kiss (and he’s damn good at it)
his touch lingers on your skin throughout the day and you cannot wait to be back in his arms again
it is just another night when you decide to walk and take the longer route back home because apparently yunho was going to be late and you did not want to be home alone
it gets quieter as you navigate through the streets and alleys
and when you take a turn and notice a familiar figure, you stop in your tracks
is that… not yunho? the back and the height looks pretty much the same
the man is watching a woman at the end of the street who is using her phone as if waiting for someone
the woman catches the man watching her and grows wary- you can tell even from the distance
you can tell that she is very much pretending to be on call when she starts moving
despite every cell in your body urging you to ignore this and go back home, you start to follow the man when he starts to follow the woman
you are careful to maintain a distance, cursing yourself internally for being a curious little shit who seeks thrill like there’s no tomorrow
but the woman takes a left, and the man takes a right, leaving you standing in the middle of the street, taking a few deep breaths
nothing happened, you think. you turn and start to trace your path back
and just a minute later, there’s an unmistakable sound of a woman’s scream filling the air
every hair on your body rises as your heart drops and eyes widen
you’re frozen in one spot with no idea what to do next- should you go check on the woman? see if it was the same person? 
not once do you think of calling the police though
you walk back home, lost in your thoughts with the image of the man’s familiar figure branded in your mind especially since you are pretty damn sure that those were little sunflowers embroidered on the hem of the hoodie
sunflowers that you embroidered on yunho’s hoodie
when you open the door to your apartment, though, you hear the sound of the TV and yunho is sitting very casually on the couch
“ah, you’re home,” he grins and waves, just like he usually does
he’s not wearing the hoodie anymore
“i thought you were gonna be late?” you ask
“you’re late,” he counters. “why did it take you so long to get home?”
“just decided to take a walk,” you smile, ruffling his hair and planting a kiss on the top of his head before going to your room 
you grab your clothes and move towards the bathroom to take a shower, and it is then that yunho’s eyes widen
“ah, babe?” he calls, his voice uncharacteristically high
when you don’t answer, he rushes towards the bathroom and finds you standing in the doorway
your eyes are fixed on the sink which is a pale shade of pink with handprints on it
yunho curses himself internally- he rushed to hide his hoodie as soon as he got home, jumped in the shower, spotted the bloody sink from when he first washed his hands and decided to make it look like he had been home for a while before cleaning the sink
only he fucking forgot
it doesn’t look as bad- it’s not a bloody red, for starters
“ah, i forgot to clean that up,” yunho awkwardly laughs, proceeding to move inside and open the tap, taking a sponge and cleaning the edges of the sink
yeah. it does not look that bad
“i accidentally spilled that red ink you have in the room- i don’t know why i got curious and messed with it.”
that’s not the colour of your ink, though, and you know it never leaves stains like these
“don’t worry about it,” you tell him, but your eyes are wider than usual. yunho notices that
he lets you shower in peace, all the while thinking if you suspect something
truth be told, he saw you when you were following him back there which is why he took another turn to mislead you
he also knows you are far too observant for your own good
he can’t lie- one of the reasons he fell for you is because of that. you are just like him
though you are free of sin unlike him, your mind is a mess
you notice too much that is not meant to be noticed. you sometimes say things that even he has not thought about. you question if human morals are an actual thing or a made up construct
is it from reading too much fiction? he thinks not
when you come out of the shower, something possesses you to move to the balcony
and that’s another thing yunho likes about you (which also scares him a little at times)
it is your intuition- which leads you to inspect the little corner where you pile up useless stuff. you can see the sleeve of his hoodie there
you pick it up and find it wet in certain spots
on its black base, you can’t tell what it is, but the sunflowers are stained a suspicious red colour, and it’s definitely not your ink 
you look towards your right where yunho is standing, vigilant
there is a moment of silence before you lower the hoodie 
“it really was you,” you say, unwavering
your heart is not speeding because you’re scared- it is speeding because you are right
yunho is still, contemplating how to deal with this
did he think he could hide his secret from you forever? no. was he prepared in case he gets caught? no
he just never imagined it would unfold like this
and now… will he have to hurt you if you threaten to expose him? he can’t bear to hurt a hair on your head
you bring out all the good in him. he does not know how you do that, but you make him believe that he can love with all of his heart too, just like any other person
you make him feel whole, and it would be such a shame if things fall apart now
to his surprise, you drop the hoodie back and walk towards him until there’s little distance between the two of you
you hold both of his hands in yours and look at him earnestly
“are you going to tell me what you have been up to?”
yunho is surprised at how calm your voice is and how accepting your eyes are
he sighs deeply before steering you to the couch in the living room
and then he bares his heart to you
he is a monster. that is it. he hurts people and it satisfies this ugly part of him
he does not always want to, he justifies, but sometimes, he just can’t help it
and the only reason he gets away with it is because he is not stupid and carefully chooses his victims- people who are miserable. people who have no one around them
“well then… i’m lucky to have one person in my life, right?”
yunho’s eyes widens at your response
you fulfil the criteria of being his victim- you have no one 
you have no one but him- how did that happen?
he thinks back to your first date and he can’t help but feel overwhelmed
he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his head about to explode 
why are you not running away from him? why are you caressing his head and holding him close?
you don’t tell him everything right away. you only ask him to trust you
so he trusts you and waits for you
he learns little bits about you- you, who do not care who yunho is, as long as he is transparent with you
you, who has a twisted sense of morality. you, who might be as bad as yunho, even worse
though, your hands are clean, you tell him sarcastically, it’s just your head that is a mess
and it’s a blessing that you two are together and can be honest about this too, right? how lucky you are to have each other
“you, without sin, are like the sun,” he tells you one night as he kisses the top of your head and holds you close
“you, even with sin, are like the sun,” you respond.
The Hunter and His Guide
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Yeosang
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The Mad Scientist
there is something about the innocent features of his face, the gentleness in his mannerism, the absolute ethereal aura about him
that contrasts strikingly with the pitch black (or maybe, just two shades lighter) of his soul
the man only knows how to scheme and how to take the best possible route towards his goals
the goals are all related to science
sure, he is contributing to the scientific area, doing researches no one else would do
doctor kang yeosang- a scientist and philosopher, held in high reverence in the medical field, contributing with numerous researches centering the human body
nobody needs to know exactly how he gets such extensive, solid results to support his theories
he comes off as a soft-spoken man, someone who possesses a kind heart
he is willing to overwork himself in order to make life easier for others
he is much appreciated by his peers
they don’t need to know that behind his neat and professional setup is a dark, cold space that holds his real workspace
the endless corridors lined with shelves upon shelves of jars 
jars containing the human body parts within them
from the brain to the spleen, from the heart to the liver
each jar meticulously lined in an organisation such that only yeosang could close his eyes and know where to pick what he needs
each organ in the jar has a story of the human that it once was- the story that yeosang himself scribes and tucks in the safe (and in a corner of his heart)
taking it out only to read and reminiscence, or to make another addition
such as the one that he is about to make now, sauntering with an almost skipping manner, highlighting his delight in the events about to unfold
his pristine white lab coat flows behind him, a symbol of everything that he would not be doing tonight, which only adds to the irony of it all
he finds you mirroring his expressions, eyes wide with anticipation and lips curled in a stifled smile
and he can’t help but smile wider, the sound of his footsteps echoing loudly as he speeds towards you so that he can finally hold you after the long day he had, tired of playing it cool in front of everyone
you are snaking your arms around his neck immediately as he bends down to capture your lips in a fierce kiss, earning a surprised but pleased yelp from you
you let him have his moment, kissing him back with equal passion until he draws away and rests his forehead against your shoulder
“long day, huh?” you press your lips against his temple. “how did the presentation go?”
the presentation being at a conference of the national medical association where yeosang was the chief guest, awarded for his valuable insights to the medical world
“i sometimes wonder if i’m the only one wearing a mask,” yeosang confesses.
you know what he means
there surely must be others just like him
you can’t expect to make medical advancements while sticking to the stupid laws and regulations they have carved for you
the medical associations do not allow anyone freedom 
“it’s tiring to pretend my research was simply a result of my team’s hard work,” yeosang continue, “they didn’t do batshit. i wish i could credit you instead.”
“but you can’t,” you caress his dark locks. “that would certainly raise suspicion since i’m… underqualified.”
well, that’s arguable 
you may not be as good as yeosang at what you do but considering that you come from a non-medical background, yeosang would say that you are pretty close
in fact, overqualified
“i don’t think there’s anyone more qualified than you,” yeosang lifts his head to look up at you, eyes scanning your face. “you’re an expert of the human body.”
you are an expert, that is true
you did what you had to do to survive as a young girl who lost her way
you were meant to be a test subject yourself but you created your own path and proved that you were good with your hands- almost artistic
and that you could open up humans as long as you had a good knife
your skills were a bit rusty when yeosang found you in the black market
but he was thoroughly impressed and made an offer. it was an offer that you couldn’t resist 
you would no longer be bound to be a slave for the rest of your life
you would be his equal. an accomplice 
“but you are the mad scientist. i’m just your unofficial assistant,” you pat his cheek in answer
it’s a wonder that you’re here now, in his arms
a muffled sound interrupts your little moment
you both steer towards the big room and yeosang looks around for a moment to take in the glory of his workplace
the crisp white walls and clean tiles smelling of antiseptic, marred with red stains of blood that is dripping from the man’s limbs
the man who is currently tied to a stretcher in the middle of the room
the instruments and tools that he would be using tonight to open his test subject up are glinting with silver, ready to be used
he has chosen the perfect target- a relatively healthy, middle-aged homeless man
really, no one would care if he went missing
in fact, you were doing him a favour by putting an end to his miserable life, right?
surely, he did not wish to live without a home and the means to survive
though here he was, sedated but struggling nonetheless, as if finally having found the will to live
“ah, he created a mess,” yeosang begins, clicking his tongue in disappointment as he inspects the bruises around the man’s wrists. “i’m sorry you had to wait so long, hmm?”
it’s almost eerie, how yeosang’s voice drips with pity
but that’s what you like about him
he thinks of the greater good. he is doing all of this for the greater good
there is no personal desire to kill random human beings, no
he simply needs test subjects to study the human body, so there can be advancements in the medical world
he just can’t believe that the world does not have a cure or even a prevention for most of the diseases in this age
he has taken it upon himself to contribute to the medical world so people do not have to suffer anymore
he complains about this a lot 
if people had guts, they would have done this ages ago
sometimes, he refers to the awful medical experiments done by humankind- especially on women
he is different from them, he claims
he cares about their pain- that is why he makes sure to make his subjects’ death quick and painless before he starts to conduct his experiments
it’s just too bad that he doesn’t have much time after the person passes to study certain functions of a living human
(so sometimes, he makes exceptions and asks god for forgiveness. easy peasy)
you watch yeosang with a sort of wonder and a little something that resembles fear as he caresses the man’s head in farewell
he asks the man to say his last words, to choose them carefully, to take his time and to make peace with the fact that there is no way out
the sedatives seem to have made the man somewhat placid
the test subject stops resisting to lock eyes with the doctor 
he says something about the regrets he’s had in his life and how he just wants his misery and pain to end now
yeosang’s brows are furrowed in concentration as he listens to each and every word, nodding along as if he aims to fulfil every desire this man possesses 
his hand is gently caressing the man’s head
when the man is done, yeosang tells him that his contribution to medical research won’t be forgotten
he looks at you to find you already staring at him with an unreadable expression
he signals you to get the job done and you inject the medicine meant to stop the man’s heart
you watch the man take his last breath, his face contorting in pain as his heart ceases to function
yeosang has already moved on from the little moment he had, putting on medical gloves and snapping them against his skin rather dramatically
“let’s get to work, shall we?”
you smile in response, following his instructions
soon, you are testing the functioning of the man’s abdominal organs with various equipment and drugs that yeosang has bought from the black market 
you have to work quickly before necrosis begins and hinders you
yeosang is very careful with his methods. his hands are steady as if he has done this a thousand times already 
and though he comes off as clumsy in the public eye, he is anything but here
his eyes are focused, darting between the electrodes placed on the man’s liver to the readings on the screen
it goes on like this for a while, yet another failed experiment as the liver fails to respond as desired to the electric shock and necrosis takes over
it doesn’t disappoint any of you though
yeosang has a strong vision and no amount of failed experiments is going to stop him 
plus, there’s always something you learn even from failure
you begin to clean up when you notice a broken nail lying on the stretcher
you pick it up with tweezers and inspect it- it must have broken when the man was struggling to break free
yeosang catches you looking at the discoloured nail with curiosity and he hums in question
“hair and fingernails are beautiful ornaments.” you ask, “so why do they seem so baleful when they are removed? 
yeosang stands beside you, pondering
“the answer is simple. they are previews of what is to come. of death.”
you look at him to find his eyes twinkling with the knowing glint of someone who’s seen it all
after you both finish recording the data of tonight’s session, yeosang is back to being the cute and clumsy person that you absolutely adore
the man is craving chicken after today’s hard work so you fulfil his wish and take him to his favourite place
you both sit across each other, drinking beer and savouring the juicy meat while talking about casual stuff- just an assistant and her boss
just two friends who met by chance and felt an instant pull towards each other
just two lovers, fated to be together and find solace in each other’s company
as if the stars have aligned for you yet again, a familiar face walks in and sits on the table next to you
you meet yeosang’s eyes and you both stifle a smile
it’s one of the potential test subjects you’ve had in your file, due for observation
and what better observation than to sit next to them in a casual setting and eavesdrop naturally?
yeosang raises his beer glass in toast and you share a knowing smile, raising your own glass in toast 
just two partners in crime. that’s who you are
The Mad Scientist and his Accomplice
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San
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Executioner
choi san works hard during the day
he goes to the school and makes sure his students are in top shape
as their p.e. teacher and coach, he has every student’s physical status on his fingertips
he knows their strengths and their weaknesses. he also knows their desires
so if a student is not a good runner but wants to run better, he would never tell them to give up, he would personally coach them and make sure they know that their body is not the limit
they can be a good runner, a good player, a good swimmer- anything
as long as they are steadfast, they can conquer the world
so choi san is loved and respected by the students, known to be a very caring teacher
but choi san works harder at night. no one needs to know that
certainly not his colleagues who always go about how hardworking a teacher he is
when he is free from the school, he goes to his home and changes before driving to his friend’s place- a warehouse where a few of you hang out
someone programmes, another composes, another works out
just an innocent hideout that you’re all using even in your early thirties
except that you also huddle around to read the new request you receive on your app
“i am a twenty-one year old female. two years ago, the man who dated my older sister killed her, but due to lack of evidence, he did not receive the jail time he deserves. he claims that he is innocent, but ever since he got out, he’s been bothering me because he had to serve his short sentence anyway. he is threatening to kill my family and then me if i go to the cops. i am scared to leave the house because he is stalking me and i can always see him wherever i go. please help me. i won’t go to the cops anyway- they didn’t do anything then, and they will not do anything now.”
san is contemplating if he should accept this request
you look at wooyoung who is immediately weighing the pros and the cons
you look back at san who is still deep in thought and you gently rest your hand on his thigh, bringing him out of his head
“i’ll take it,” he mutters. “accept the request, y/n.”
you nod and go back to the computer to accept the request
you have a phone call conversation with the client where you set up a meeting
it’s you and wooyoung who go to meet with the respective parties. san works in the shadows
the next night, san finds you deep in thought outside, leaning against the worn out wall of the warehouse
he joins you, hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans
“i know what you’re thinking,” san begins, glancing at you. “you’ve been awfully quiet since the meeting.”
you shrug in defeat. “i know i can’t change your mind.”
“it’s not going to be the same,” san refers back to the one time you all took a request from a 19 year old girl who was being bullied by her seniors
it got to a dangerous point and had you been a little late, you might have lost the girl
san lost his temper that time, though
and while he couldn’t physically harm the kids who were bullying the girl, he had them locked in a room for one night while he educated them
and funnily enough, san was scarier that night
scarier than every other time he actually wields a weapon
you asked him that night if there were any just people left in this world full of evil
“all people are evil. to believe that you are just, you must believe that someone else is more evil than you”
was his response. safe to say, the girl was living her best life now, but you saw a new side of san that night
a side you had never seen all your life, and that was saying something since you were childhood friends
“we won’t let it get to that point,” san assured, outstretching your hand and you pouted before taking it
he caressed your knuckles, his voice assertive. “i will take care of it. properly. i always do.”
“do you think i only worry about things going wrong?” you finally say out loud, the words that you want to say to him every time he goes out in the field 
san, despite himself, breaks into a smile that would seem so out of character to anyone who has not known him for long
“you can’t smile your way out of this,” you sulk further, snatching your hand away and folding your arms
“baby,” san begins, trying to take your hand again but you’re not having any of it
“i’m worried you’ll get hurt. i’m worried about the pain you’re willing to go through so you can lessen the pain of others.”
san stops teasing then, mimicking your position as he leans against the wall next to you
there is a thick silence surrounding you and you wonder what wooyoung is doing inside- is he napping?
“it’s something i have to do. something only i can do. you know that, right?”
“i know,” you say, almost a whisper. “and that’s what makes this more frustrating.”
because it was originally your idea
on a summer night when you were all about to graduate, a tragedy happened in your town
a man went on a spree, killing and wounding multiple women and children for weeks
you, who knew one of the victims personally, were shocked by the act and disgusted at how lazy the police were being
it turned out that the assailant was a high-profile businessman and the police were trying to cover the case up as per the orders of their superiors
the three of you were hanging out in the warehouse, each burdened by their own train of thoughts, until you finally said it out loud
“what if we were some sort of a private service where we help the victims? especially when the police can’t?”
it was wooyoung who agreed first, and san who disagreed
it took him some convincing to finally agree, and you set rules
you were not going to kill anyone- only maim
if it’s a serial killer, you maim their hands so they can never hold a weapon again
if it’s a bully, you maim their mouth so they think before they speak
the three of you are a team, but san is the executioner
wooyoung is his eyes and feet, and you are the brains
so it is ironic how worried you are about san now, when you gave him this role
“i know that i can get hurt,” san begins, taking a deep breath. “but there is no pain as long as i keep my eyes on the balance scale.”
this time, when he outstretches his hand, you take it. he plants a sweet kiss on your knuckles
“don’t worry about me, hmm?” he tugs you closer so you can rest your head against his firm chest as he embraces you. “i can’t focus when you’re so worried.”
“i can’t help it,” you tell him. “you’ll just have to get used to it.”
san lifts your face with his thumb below your chin, his brows furrowed with concentration and worry as he looks at you
his eyes are sharp as he scans you so you smile
immediately, his body relaxes and the corners of his lips curl in a smile as he pecks your lips- once, twice
and it is about to turn into a deeper kiss when wooyoung claps loudly to get your attention
“alright, lovebirds. get inside. we have a heads-up.”
you scowl at wooyoung who smirks in response but you both immediately join the youngest inside
your client has texted to let you know that she’s about to go out so you can stalk her stalker
you and wooyoung take your equipment to the van and san prepares himself 
he’ll be observing tonight, but he is prepared in case the stalker catches on
just like that, you observe the stalker for a few days, assuring your client that she is safe
you plan a trap to lure the stalker to an abandoned area where san will have a little chat with the stalker 
and when the day comes, all your client has to do is threaten to call the cops on him
he comes after her and that is when san knocks him out with a punch
the stalker finds himself tied to a chair in an empty room when he opens his eyes
there is the stale smell of something resembling death in the room, and that makes the man resist 
from the darkness, san emerges, clad in all black, his face covered with a mask
and his favourite weapon, the dagger, in his hand
you and wooyoung are watching from the camera embedded on his coat
you can see the glint of the dagger as he twists it dramatically in his hand
san circles around the man once as if to gauge the room 
even through the camera, you can tell how thick the air must be feeling
san meets eyes with the man and removes the tape over his mouth, wincing when the man screams his lungs out in hopes that help would come
there is no help, not for miles
“who are you?” the stalker spits on the ground near san’s feet 
san only shuts his eyes in mild annoyance. he is not easily riled up
“you have been found guilty of the crime of stalking. tell me… what should be your sentence?”
the man pales, fresh beads of sweat trickling down his forehead 
“it will be better if you admit to your wrongdoings and give me a fair number. you don’t want to leave it in my hands.”
“what do you mean sentence?” the stalker starts struggling fiercely, almost falling off the chair. “i have already served!”
san grins under the mask, closing in like a cat and stomping on his foot, making the man let out a guttural groan of pain
he leans in to whisper in his ear
“but… that was for murder. and unfortunately, i am not charging you for murder tonight. otherwise… you would not have walked out alive.”
the man gulps loudly, meeting eyes with who has to be the person he has heard so much about in prison
most of the people in prison feared this man- the judge, they called him
the man was the judge, jury and executioner for criminals, feared more than the cops or actual prosecutors
“surely… you’re not him, are you?”
you wince at the fear in the stalker’s voice and meet wooyoung’s eyes
san never confirms if he is that. he simply finishes the job right there
the stalker’s screams are heard for quite a distance, even outside your earpieces
you shut your eyes momentarily and when you open, you can see the blood oozing out of the man’s left leg
san is wiping the dagger with the man’s own jacket as he tells him that he will never be able to stalk people again
the man screams and screams, waiting for something more, but nothing else comes
san’s job is done
he tosses a broken piece of glass near the chair for the man to free himself if he wishes to
when san comes back to the van, the air is sombre, just like after every finished request
wooyoung pats his shoulder in acknowledgement and mutters a joke in an attempt to lighten the mood, which works
“they still call you the judge, huh?” wooyoung teases as he drives
“judge, jury, executioner. how scary, choi san.”
san raises a brow at your comment- he can tell what you’re referring to
you’re referring to the first time when he came back covered in blood
and the first time he realised that no matter what he did, you would never be scared of him
and that you and wooyoung would always have his back and guide him
“i think i’m only the executioner. you both are the judge and jury.”
“makes sense,” wooyoung agrees. “but the world does not need to know that.”
Judge, Jury and Executioner
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Mingi
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The Overseer
“the future, pitch black, upside down”
mingi dips his brush into the onyx ink, finishing writing the words on the big canvas
the canvas that is a splash of colours- red for the blood on his hands. white for the innocence he lost too soon. blue for all those nights he spent trapped with only the moon as his friend
and finally, black for the future. the future is the only uncertainty in his life
despite being a leader of a notorious gang, he can never be certain about his future. there are always people after his life
he cannot trust anyone- not one soul-
“sir,” a voice interrupts and he knows who it is instantly
even if he did not hear your voice, he knows you are the only person who would dare interrupt him in the middle of his private time-
“tea, sir. you’ve been cooped up in here for too long,” you say, placing the mug on the table
-for something as meagre as tea
mingi spares a glance in your direction, noticing how you are still dressed in your usual all-black fit
which means you have not gone to sleep yet, even though it’s well past midnight
“and what are you doing up so late?” he asks as he picks up the cup and sips it, finding it exactly to his liking. a flavour only you can nail
“watching you paint,” you confess without hesitation
because in this place, in this room, between the two of you, there may be truths hidden, but there are no secrets
mingi is amused to hear that though he does his best to hide it
“and what do you think of the painting?” he asks, allowing you to take a closer look
you smile at his permission to inspect his art and you inch closer to the painting, now standing beside your boss
you read the words on it in a whisper and cock your head in thought
“isn’t this too dark, even for you?” you question 
mingi shakes his head in amusement and looks down. only you could have made this observation, having been at his side for a solid seven years now
where others would say that his paintings were too ‘colourful’ considering the kind of person he is, you still find them too dark and void of life
you’d know better, because you know mingi inside out
he first found you when he was a street thug in the process of becoming something big
all he had was his raw strength, a strategic brain, a few rusty weapons and some loyal friends
he went on to fight gang after gang, always emerging victorious and merging the losing team with a good deal- it’s how he earned respect around and gained a reputation
every other gang knew not to stand against him unless they wanted to risk losing everything they had
when he first opened his office in the darkest part of the town, he found you purely by chance
you were nearing the end of your teens- a rebellious little girl who cut ties from her family and ran away from home
at that time, you had multiple part-time jobs trying to make ends meet, hoping to find a place to live
and one fateful night, you found yourself in front of a building to deliver chicken, peering up at the light coming from the 4th floor- this must be it 
although… you weren’t sure if the loud sounds coming from the floor were just men having a good time or if something had gone really, really wrong
men will be men, you thought, wanting to get the delivery done with so you could move on
only when you reached the 4th floor, you spotted men lying on the ground and clutching their limbs, blood all around
while every sane part of your brain screamed at you to pretend you saw nothing and go back, you recalled how when you received the order, they promised a big tip to the rider
you could not miss that, could you? you had to find a place to live, and you needed every penny
so you started with the men who seemed to be unconscious. you took any cash they had, being careful to hide your face in the hoodie
you moved to the office, hearing a crashing sound and flinching
you made quick work of grabbing more cash from the thugs- they had to be thugs
they all had guns, for fuck’s sake
you went into one of the neater rooms and placed the bags of fried chicken there
and you froze when a burly man made his way inside, wiping blood from the edge of his mouth
“ah… you must be song’s girl, eh?” he snickered, scanning you up and down
“i- i’m delivering chicken,” you pointed at the table. “i’ll be on my way then-”
“not so quick,” his gaze darkened 
instinctively, you grabbed the nearest object, which so happened to be a mug and chucked it at the man, successfully hitting his head
he clutched his head in pain and you made a dash outside, bumping into another man
the tall man seemed mostly unscathed save for a bruise on his cheek
he held your wrists to steady you and his eyes darted in the man’s direction who was clutching his head no more
“oi, song!” the burly man called. “teach your girl some manners, will you?”
the man called song pushed you to the side and a gunfight ensued
you took shelter behind a shelf, observing how the taller man successfully shot his every target
when he thought he was done- and was out of bullets, he looked in your direction and tsked loudly
you were about to come out of the shadows when you noticed one of the supposedly unconscious men take aim of song’s head
your eyes widened and almost instinctively, you grabbed a heavy metal object from the shelf and rushed to the man who was targeting your saviour
to say that mingi was surprised to see a young girl save him from his enemy by nearly crushing the man’s skull?
he knew you were something special right away
you both stared at each other for a long time before he told you to go back to his office, lock the door and not come out until he comes back
he was done sooner than you thought, and while his men cleaned his mess, he found you in his room, sitting rather calmly
“so you’re the delivery girl,” he narrowed his eyes
“i hope the chicken is still warm,” you responded. “if you can just pay me so i can leave-”
“why did you do that earlier?” he asked, voice low and rough that sent shivers up your spine
“i don’t know,” you answered truthfully
mingi paid you more than extra that night and told you to come next time they place an order 
the next time would turn out to be the last time you would ever work a part-time job
mingi offered you a place in his gang, and you took it
you are still not sure what your position in this gang is though- they smuggle drugs but keep you away from the work, so what are you doing here?
personal assistant? chef? manager? all of these? 
sometimes, you are accompanying wooyoung in the field- the gang now has an official base and a few legal businesses
sometimes, you stay in the kitchen with seonghwa and wooyoung to cook
other times, you sit with yunho and hongjoong to plan and offer your opinion on their strategic takes
you aren’t sure if you are qualified for that- you probably aren’t
somehow, though, the gang members respect you for whoever you are
you are the light in their dark life, they joke. you are someone’s friend now, sibling to some, secretkeeper for others
but you still aren’t sure what you are to mingi
whenever you ask him why he took you in, mingi always responds with something different
“you were clever grabbing all that money from our enemies”
“you saved me- though i must say i could have handled it”
“you looked like a lost cat”
“you didn’t report us”- excuses, all of them
truth be told, mingi has no idea what you are to him either
he has a certain fondness for you that he has for no one else. of course, it didn’t happen instantly
he took you in because he realised you had a strategic mind and he could really use that
he insisted the office needed a ‘feminine touch’ even though it came in the form of a cranky teen who wouldn’t stop asking questions
but somehow, the two of you formed an unbreakable bond
he finds solace just being with you in one room, even in complete silence
he loves to hear you talk, even though you mostly question his morals
because he is not a good person, you found out
song mingi is not conventionally good. he is a man of principles, but he does not have the best morals
despite all that, you learned a lot from him. the world is a harsh place, and only he can protect you 
he learned a lot from you too. the world is a harsh place, and only you are his safe space
when at times things get stressful, he comes to seek you. he finds you in the shared residence and sits with you
if he is feeling down, you will have him lay his head in your lap. you will caress his head and let him be
if he wants to talk, he will. otherwise, he will watch you for a long time until he falls asleep, unguarded
when he gets tired, he will seek your arms. all he has to do is show up and you will know what to do
you will drop whatever you are doing and spread your arms
it is his home at this point. that’s how things are like
are you in a relationship? you don’t know
all you know is that song mingi is the most important person in your life
it doesn’t matter if he lives life the way he does
it doesn’t affect you anymore- the blood on his hands or the chaos in his mind
it doesn’t bother you because you know his heart, and that is all that matters
so standing in his private space right next to him, inspecting his painting with a critical eye, you tell him that the painting is not him
he tells you to pick a colour and you reach out for a box, making him chuckle
“really?” he asks
“the future may seem black, but…” you begin. “it doesn’t feel so dark when i’m with you.”
mingi takes a deep breath at your words. you always get him like this, and he is not sure if he can restrain himself anymore
your heart aches when you see him curl his fists, a sign that he is holding back some words or an action
“tell me what you’re thinking,” you request, though it registers like a command in the gang leader’s brain
“i’m thinking that i never should have given you this life.”
you shake your head at that- how many times has he voiced out that he wished you had lived a better, normal life, away from the clutches of the underworld?
“no, you’re thinking something else too,” you comment
“i’m thinking that i want you to stay here, with me, forever,” he responds
you nod in approval. “i’m right here. i’m not going anywhere.”
“you could get hurt,” mingi says, taking a step closer and closing the gap between your bodies
“i am a big girl now, mingi,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his waist and hearing his erratic heartbeat
his arms are still by his sides for a moment before he embraces you
“i’m old now, in fact. how much longer will you keep me waiting?”
mingi grows stiff at your question. so you know
of course you do
mingi cups your face and locks eyes with you
“i won’t break,” you promise
“i know,” he smiles, pecking your forehead. “i’m afraid you will break me.”
your lips curl in a smile and he rests his forehead against yours
“are you sure about your choice?”
“yes,” you breathe. “i want you. i’m yours.”
mingi draws back
“i meant your choice of colour,” he tilts his head in the direction of the painting and the box of paint you picked for him
“of course you did,” you laugh at his attempt to distract you
mingi leans in to close the distance between your lips
it is soft and unrushed. you both have waited for the right moment, the right time for years and everything feels absolutely right at this moment 
you go first, asking him to join you in your bedroom and he agrees
he assesses the canvas once again
as a finishing touch, he sprays a final splash of yellow- the colour you picked for him
yellow for hope, for all the light in his dark world
The Overseer and his Shelter
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Wooyoung
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The Maniac
it has always been a cat and mouse game with you and wooyoung
you chase after each other, running in circles with no start or end
it’s almost as if you both have sworn to keep your eyes glued on each other, watching every move, anticipating what is next
someone’s lips curls up in a failed attempt to restrain a smile- a smile that drips with mischief and mockery
someone else’s eyes glint with threat and promise that this is not over, their fists curled in anger
you chase after each other like cat and mouse
only…you’re not sure who is the cat and who is the mouse
sometimes, it is you chasing after wooyoung
jung wooyoung, the son of one of the richest businessmen in town
a privileged piece of shit who is not right in the mind
a crazy bastard who has made it his life’s mission to not only drive you to the edge of the cliff but to push you and laugh in victory as you fall
he takes advantage of you being a criminal investigator 
some people jest that they can’t tell if wooyoung means to ruin your career or lead you to your promotion
with the amount of times wooyoung has gotten himself in trouble (and gotten away with it) he keeps your desk full of cases that you spend most nights investigating
while he keeps your hands full, what frustrates you to no end is that he almost always gets away with his crimes only because of his social standing and his connections
he gets away with petty crimes. he gets away with bloody fights that could very well have him spend one night in the station, cuffed 
he gets away with major crimes such as money laundering and tax evasion
no matter how much you try to investigate, you cannot
there are the warnings of your superiors who threaten to fire you because this is not your worry
and even if you do start to investigate, wooyoung’s team is quick to wipe any evidence of said crimes
you’re pretty sure that at this point, he might be hiding a body somewhere in his house
you wouldn’t be surprised. man once set his enemy’s mansion on fire
to make things worse, he got away with it- even when he was the only one grinning and playing with a lighter on his way out 
while the others scrambled like mice, he sauntered in style
he gets away with anything
you reputation at the station is already in shambles because of it
they call you his shadow at this point, considering how you are always following him
the truth is, you just want to wipe the shitty grin off his face for once
you want him to suffer defeat when you finally put him behind bars
you want him to chase after you like you chase after him
you might come off as delusional, but you’re half convinced that whatever wooyoung does is on purpose at this point- to get your attention
it wasn’t always like this, you and wooyoung
it started with a simple fight that broke out at a party where all the high-profile people were
someone was stupid enough to call the police- but you were more stupid because you went ahead and handcuffed wooyoung
you told him that you couldn’t waste this opportunity because you were investigating another case related to his father’s company anyway
and he? he laughed out loud like a maniac
you soon learned why, going home with the sound of your superiors scolding you still ringing in your ears
here you are, a few years and a lot of chasing each other later
except… you get something out of the chasing now
all he has to do is corner you. all he has to do is rile you up as he tells you why you lost this game yet again
with his burning gaze and honey voice, he pins you to the spot
with his fingers tracing the curves of your face, he tells you how much he loves you chasing after him 
as if he’s all that you ever think about. he might be right
“don’t you think we’re meant for each other?” wooyoung questions almost innocently, licking his lips subconsciously as he trails his finger down the curve of your neck until he reaches the first button of your shirt
“don’t think too highly of yourself, wooyoung,” you respond, your chest rising and falling in controlled breaths
you can not let him know the effect he has on you
however, wooyoung doesn’t need any sort of confirmation
you can try to keep your gaze steel all you want. you can attempt to sound sure and fake indifference, but the fact is that wooyoung knows
all he has to do is take another step forward and fill the gap between you two
his warm breath caresses your face and you gulp despite yourself
he watches you intently and squeezes your neck just a bit, causing you to part your lips for air and then he brushes the tip of his nose against yours
his other hand is slowly but surely unbuckling the belt of your pants and taking it off
you can only thank god in an ashamed relief that you’re in a private space- the space being one of the empty rooms in a random building on a random street because you had been tailing wooyoung
(at least the door is locked)
wooyoung brushes his lips against yours as your pants fall on the ground and pool on your feet
the sound that makes has heat rushing to your face- this should not be happening
you are a fucking detective and wooyoung is your target
but you can’t complain when his fingertips dance along your hip bones
all he has to do is swipe his fingers up your panties
upon finding them soaked (as usual), he smirks and you smack his chest
he catches your fist in his hand, though
“all for me?” he asks
in a matter of seconds, your lips are upon each other, tongues in each other’s mouth as you wrap your legs around him
he picks you up effortlessly and places you on a very dusty table
he gets rid of his clothes all the while kissing you expertly, aiming to please you, dominate you
he sucks on your lips, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on
and when he finally takes off all your garments, he has more places he can get his mouth on
“admit it, detective,” he breathes against your clit. “you’re obsessed with me.”
“get to work before i cuff you and fuck your brains out, wooyoung.”
wooyoung’s laugh echoes in the room as he recalls that night- a night he is sure he can never forget
“does that mean i get to experience that again if i stop now?”
you are moments away from your high- how dare he ask if he can stop?
he gets the hint and gets to work, and he makes sure he does a good job, licking and sucking at your clit until you’re screaming
for bonus points, he dives his cock inside right after and stays still as he starts to kiss you eagerly
this time, you’re the one who loses to him and lets him take control
you let him thrust into you. you let him praise you and humiliate you to no end
truth be told, you’re addicted to him. there is no going back from here
wooyoung knows how to use his tongue and he whispers sweet nothings
he is also surprisingly good at aftercare, even though you don’t accept it from him
well, you try not to, but he is insistent
he takes you home and he invites himself in
you go to the shower and he goes to your room to admire the effort you put into bringing him down
loads of files and a board full of his ‘accomplishments’ staring back at him- nothing he doesn’t know
“you think your daddy will help you if i start to investigate the slush fund you have?”
“which one?” is his response, and he grins widely as you gape at him
he can practically see the gears in your head turning and he adores that
it is a cat and mouse game after all. he must give you something so you keep coming after him
(and you must give him something so he keeps finding you too)
while you’re still processing what he just implied, your phone rings
you flinch when you pick it up, getting an earful from your team leader once again, because where were you?
you were supposed to tail wooyoung to confirm that he is meeting up with a notorious gang member who does his dirty work
the case you’re team is on these days is targeting the gang, and yet again… wooyoung is involved
so what the hell were you doing, your superior asks
“jung wooyoung did not meet up with the gang leader,” you say into the phone, your eyes fixed on wooyoung 
wooyoung has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face
“and how do you know that? i thought you lost the tail-”
“yes, i did lose the tail,” you bite your lips in thought- you can’t tell your team leader that wooyoung has a strong alibi this time-
but wooyoung goes ahead and snatches your phone from you
“detective lee,” wooyoung greets and you mutter a string of curses under your breath
you watch wooyoung charm his way through the matter
telling the detective that he was in a tight spot because of the gang they are investigating
and how it is a shame that a ‘civilised’ person such as himself is being linked to thugs
he tells him that he almost got attacked but you saved him, and you hid him in an abandoned building, being wise enough not to blow your cover 
you can’t tell how he does it, but by the end of the call, your team leader is fully convinced that you did a good job today and he even praises you when you take the phone back
when you end the call, you glare at wooyoung
“what?” he shrugs. “i needed an alibi.”
“is that why you took me to the building to fuck me? because you needed an alibi?”
wooyoung watches you with mild curiosity
“did you think it meant something else?” he asks
it would have hurt if he really meant it, but that’s the thing
you both know he doesn’t mean what he says, especially about whatever is going on between you two
he has risked his position and even his life far too many times just to get you alone and fuck you
so you only smile and shake your head in response before telling him to fuck off and get out of your sight
(and he does. not before a second round)
when he leaves, you watch his car disappear from the window before going to the board and updating everything you got out of him tonight
everything about his business and his crimes. everything to make your case on him stronger
it’s truly a wonder how much you can get out of fucking someone right and you’re positive you can see the end of this case now
though… you’re not sure if you will ever take this to court. but that’s something you’ll worry about later
for now, you will follow him like a cat follows a mouse
and he will chase after you like a cat chases after a mouse
The Maniac and his Shadow
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Jongho
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The Tyrant
it is always a little too cold in the building for your liking
the building that is choi enterprises, located at the heart of the city, standing tall with numerous floors, laden in luxury
it is a workplace and home to some of the people in this city and a symbol of something untouchable to the others
as you enter the building, accompanied by your secretaries and a guard, you instantly feel the temperature drop despite the warm tones of the interior
the employees that greet you may have smiles on their faces but it’s all an act. you can tell, because you know what a genuine smile looks like
choi enterprises somehow always manages to keep the most calculating people to themselves. it might be why the company has flourished so much in such a short period of time
“to the private elevators, miss,” a man says and you recognise him as one of the ceo’s personal staff
you follow him and tug your jacket closer, wishing you had worn it instead of draping it over your shoulders
you catch your reflection on the golden glossy door of the elevator and straighten, lifting your chin up
you will not be pushed into submission, you repeat for the umpteenth time
however, things are not in your favour this time
in this never ending game of business rivalry, you and choi jongho have never seen eye to eye. you always stand in opposition, defensive or offensive
sometimes, you manage to outsmart him while making a new business deal or scoring a new project. other times, he is a few steps ahead and wins the game
except when you lose, somehow, the loss is much greater and a bit personal
your company always suffers more when you lose, which is why this little meeting you are going to have with jongho is no less than a negotiation- a war, if you must
sometimes, you wonder if jongho has a personal grudge against you. these meaningless battles start to seem like an excuse to see you
if not, then why is jongho looking like he just won the lottery at the sight of you?
“as beautiful as ever,” he says, scanning your figure slowly
you don’t move an inch, pretending those words don’t affect you
the secretaries move to another room, leaving you and jongho alone
jongho gets up from his chair and moves to the middle of the room, motioning you to take a seat
you watch as he pours a drink for you, his muscles flexing through the coat he’s wearing 
you take the drink- you need something to calm your nerves
“i suppose the odds are not in your favour, considering you found your way back here”
an allusion to the time he said that you were meant to find your way back here again and again, that you were just a lost kitten and he was your master, controlling you
at that time, you thought he meant to spite you, but time after time, he proved himself right
you always find your way here, always as the opposition. this time, though… you won’t bend
“if the odds are in your favour,” you begin experimentally, downing the drink in one gulp and then pouring one for jongho. “would you like me to join hands with you?”
now this is new- jongho’s eyes slightly widen at your remark
“ah… how the tables have turned,” jongho started to chuckle lowly
you let him be for a moment, scoffing internally
jongho had earned the right title over the years since he stepped up as ceo of his father’s company
a monster of capitalism
known to be the owner of many questionable businesses, borderline illegal, evading taxes and having slush funds unashamedly, heavily involved in money laundering- the list goes on and on
a true financial villain- a true monster, yet… being able to get away with everything, unscathed. that’s who jongho is
he has bribed every soul who would dare go against him. and those who do not take the bribe? he makes sure they kneel
and you… you’re pretty close to being his next target- he did say you would look pretty on your knees for him
“is business not going well?” he asks, faking innocence. he knows
you are a rival company- seo enterprises. everything that jongho’s company is, but… more legal
your forefathers were once partners, and they created their independent companies without a hint of rivalry
they were the definition of true brothers (and partners in crime)
the difference between the values of your company came when you and jongho stepped up as ceo
you had made it your life’s mission for your company to earn a good reputation and moral image, while jongho seemed to have made it his life’s mission to simply conquer the world, no matter what or who the stepping stone is
“business is well,” you narrow your eyes at him. “it’s about the land in ilsan.”
jongho doesn’t seem surprised to hear that. it is always like this- he knows what moves you will make
“ah, the one where we are about to construct a gallery?” jongho asks
“we?” you repeat. “that land is a shared property. why have you not consulted us before going ahead and signing the documents? how could you begin this project without us-”
“the other option is selling it to the government because of the redevelopment project,” jongho leans forward, “and you know how much i despise the government getting their grubby hands on what’s mine”
you know he is right, and he knows that you are not here to argue about why he started this project without telling you
jongho relaxes back, considering all his options before deciding to strike. “you’re worried about your involvement in that project, is that right?”
“well,” you mirror his position, “i would like to keep my reputation clean unlike yours.”
he chuckles at that, proud of his deeds. “yeah, well, that’s going to be hard, sweetheart. that gallery is going to be an optimum location for storing money.”
you know what he means. the gallery is going to display priceless pieces of arts. those pieces are but a means of illegal transactions for the elites
you swallow your anger, taking a deep breath. “i’d like to have my shares back, then. before construction starts.”
“uh…” jongho gets up, fixing his clothes. “you’re going to have to convince me for that.”
“please,” you scoff, but he only shakes his head, ignoring that because he knows this ‘please’ was wholly sarcastic
“try harder,” he smiles mockingly before turning his back to you and moving to the window, putting his hands in the pockets of his pants and staring down at the city
a tyrant- that’s who he is
he expects to get the maximum output out of anything he set his eyes on, no matter the cost- money or lives
you join him by the window, pointing at a few spots. “that’s where people held protests against your company last week,” you tell him. “apparently, you have been exploiting labourers too.”
“that’s what they think,” he spits. “i gave them more than they deserve. they just never learn to accept. they never get pleased.”
you look at jongho- he sounds like he is saying the truth. he has the art of sounding like a victim at times, thus justifying his actions
“doesn’t all that venom in your heart make you dizzy?”
jongho glances at you, his lips threatening to curl into a smile at your words
“doesn’t it get tiring, pretending to be moral?” jongho asks, trying to read your guarded eyes 
“there’s no pretending. i never claimed that i was full of morals, mr. choi,” you sigh. “i just wish for my business to have a legal foundation.”
“and it will, you don’t have to worry,” he responds, curling a section of your hair that had been resting on your shoulder in his fingers
you don’t flinch at his touch. you’ve known him since the beginning, and nothing he does fazes you anymore- except when he leans closer experimentally, locking eyes with you and trying to read you
“you will get your shares, but you will have to convince me,” he says, voice barely above a whisper
it is a challenge. it is always a challenge with choi jongho
“why are you so obsessed with me?” you laugh this time, swatting his hand away
he joins, and everything almost seems normal for a moment- just two friends with too many inside jokes, except… it only lasts for a moment
“how can i convince you?” you ask, sombre
“you know what i want from you, y/n,” he replies in a similar tone
he wants a true partnership, except his idea of a partnership is where you bend to his will (and so is yours)
“don’t turn this into a legal battle, jongho,” you warn, “i would hate to summon you to court.”
“don’t turn this into a petty rivalry,” he counters, “you will benefit from this project. you reputation won’t be harmed.”
“i don’t want my name next to yours,” you tell him in all honesty and you think you see hurt flash in his eyes
“that is not possible,” jongho declares. “our companies are not mentioned without each other. we are fated like that, you and i.”
that is true. no one dares to touch the two of you, so you two have always been alone
there is no one you both can trust. there is no one next to you 
except the two of you are always together, wherever you go, be it business parties, political dinners, or high-profile events
you can only trust each other, because despite knowing everything about each other’s business, despite being at war with each other
you are always honest with each other- honest about your intentions and purpose
there is no one next to you because you two are always together, leaving no space for someone else
do you hate that? not really. does he hate that? he’s not sure
“you can buy my shares from me,” you start, “or you can shift them elsewhere. i can handle whatever loss comes with that.”
“or… you can let it be and use the revenue for something ‘moral’,” he taunts and silence envelopes the room
“no matter how much you try to maintain a clean image,” he starts, gentler this time, “you cannot undo the damage your forefathers have done to your company, y/n. seo enterprises will always be known as the company that exploited the weak to get to the top.”
you don’t wince at that, though your heart aches to hear that
“just like your company. except you are continuing in their footsteps,” you say
jongho nods, watching how your shoulders are curling inwards
“you are not weak, y/n, stand straight,” he almost scolds, taking you by surprise 
you find yourself straightening at his words, confused to see how conflicted he looks
“you are the strongest person i know,” he tells you, and he means it. “i just don’t get why you are atoning for their sins.”
“i don’t know either,” you smile in defeat. “i just am.”
“well, if you ever get tired,” he gently places his hands over your shoulders, “i am here for you. you can lean on me.”
you lock eyes with him, scanning his face. his smile seems genuine
the way he kisses your forehead makes your heart melt
when he embraces you, you lean on him physically
and you almost give in, except…
“i can lean on you, huh?” you say, soaking in the warmth of his body, taking as much as you can before you continue 
“so you can end my career, merge our companies and crown yourself king?”
you look up at him, finding him smirking
just like you thought
“not a chance, choi jongho.”
“how can you see right through me every time, y/n?” he laughs loudly as you smack his chest and move towards the sofa to grab your purse
“i’m the only person who knows who you are,” you tell him. “you can own the world, but you will never own me.”
his eyes glint almost dangerously
“challenge accepted,” he says
you mockingly wave goodbye before exiting the room
choi jongho never changes, and neither do you
but somehow… it gets more addicting and electrifying to be with him, to compete with him and to stand with him
even though he is a tyrant, and you are everything that he is not
The Tyrant and His Defiant Ally
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spliffymae · 9 months ago
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rapper!onyankopon.
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just some head canons i have.
in my head im imagining a blend of dave and fridayy, where he can sing as well (he got variety!). same universe as my musicproducer!connie fic but reader is not famous here, as opposed to w/ connie’s. (lol i gave her a last name too—davis.) in my mind, im picturing ony from the uk and connie from ny.
★ *  °    🛰  °. 🌓 •  .°•   🚀
rapper!ony who first pops up on the scene in a music video of his friend connie’s song. he wasn’t featured on the track, but rather just in the background getting hype with everyone else.
but y’all know how the girlies get when a fine black man/woman/person start trending.
rapper!ony who wasn’t shy about his craft, but just wasn’t big on social media. his agent hated it, he loved it. he simply released music, let people know, and then went about his business.
rapper!ony was trending and although he didn’t take this as an opportunity to get in his social media bag, his best friend, musicproducer!connie did!
rapper!ony who goes from a couple thousand people knowing what he does to over a million people screaming his lyrics at they’re phones on tiktok in ONE night.
“bro, you can’t even get mad at me gang!” connie yelled from his shower. ony was sitting outside, accosting his friend for what he did. “you said you didn’t care what happened to the project!”
“but tell me if you gon post it and make it a whole thing, nigga damn!” ony yelled back.
rapper!ony who now has to adjust to his quickly rising popularity. he has yet to know the number of artists looking for a feature; and he doesn’t know that he secretly has some of these industry boys shaking in their boots because where the hell he come from?
no, rapper!ony is too busy focusing on whyyy they’re a million fan edits of him across tiktok and instagram. clips of him from his streams, connie’s videos, and his other friend’s content.
ony groans as connie’s message banner pops up on his phone, the message being a link to a tiktok. when he clicked it, it was a fan edit of him using his song ‘when it comes to you’. “bro, who keeps sending these to you, man?!” ony exclaimed. connie heard it from his room and snickered.
rapper!ony who had to adjust to being the attention at these red carpet events. he usually just walked behind connie and his girl, along with the rest of the entourage but now he is getting stopped for photographs.
there’s nothing like listening to music live. so rapper!ony puts on a fake smile and pushes through the crowded carpet to get inside. he waves to people he’s worked with, artists, and fans who called out to him. all so he can hear some music.
he sees connie holding hands with his girlfriend, both of them making goofy faces at the cameras. he softly smiles at the couple, but before he could make way, connie somehow senses him and turns to him “ony! ven aquí!” damn!
rapper!ony who doesn’t expect much from the awards show. just to go, support connie, and go home. he was nominated,yeah, but he was also in the category with some of the most popular artists right now…so he wasn’t feeling all that confident.
rapper!ony who is shocked as shocked can be when his name is called from the podium for best new artist.
“F**CK YEAH!” connie yelled, jumping up from his seat along with his girl and the rest of the table—aran, zora, jean, armin, and mikasa.
rapper!ony who walks up on stage with connie who is still screaming from excitement.
“uhhh, i’m not gonna lie, mans weren’t expecting to win still.” ony laughed, running a hand over his fresh waves. the audience laughed with him.
“first i would like to thank God, the most high who has blessed me with this amazing opportunity. i want to thank my people for having my back; connie—this man,” ony pointed behind him to connie, who was full out filming the moment on his phone.
“who told me on a random day when we were cleaning out our college dorm room that if we made a project together we would be the new heartthrobs of the generation. connie i thank you for being you; having my back and working alongside me. my brother for life, that is.” connie screamed, and so did his girlfriend from the audience as the claps poured in.
“and finally, i want to thank my heart in human form. the woman who made all of this possible, y/n davis. she don’t like the attention so im gonna hear bout this name drop when i get home. but babes, i love you, and thank you for being my rib. i owe you the world and more. and to her parents, thank you for my better half. thank you lot again. love!” ony raised his hand with the award, smiling and waving to the crowd and cameras as he walked to the back.
meanwhile, across the country, cuddled up in her bed was y/n, who was watching the award show before going to sleep. she had expressed to ony she wasn’t too sure about going, not liking the cameras and attention. he reassured her it was okay because there wasn’t any way he would be winning with who else was in the category.
so…safe to say when you saw your boyfriend on the stage with the award in his hand, you could not contain your shock and excitement. you jumped out of bed screaming and quickly getting to your phone camera to record the tv. squeals and “yeah baby” was all you could say as he gave connie his thanks.
but then… when you heard him say your name, for everyone around the world to hear, everything just turned to shock as your phone fell from your frozen hands, still recording. you were stunned. he said your name. your government name. on national television.
“ONY!!!”
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cupcakeinat0r · 9 months ago
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A Nerdy middle-aged loser Miguel w a dad bod who teaches your genetics class.
He has a huge crush on you even though he knows he shouldn’t but how tf couldn’t he????
With the way you always walk in a minute or two late, making the whole class look at you as you strut in with your quiet “so sorry!” and your cute little outfits that show off the best parts of your body.
Miguel’s eyes would follow you and the way you set down your bag, whipping out your computer, ready to absorb all the knowledge that Prof. O’Hara has to offer like a sponge. He usually has to stand behind his podium because watching you hang onto every single one of his words with those parted, glossy lips and curious eyes made him embarrassingly hard.
Or the way you took notes, your cute little organization of colors and annotations. Your kindness in giving notes to your peers because you wanted to see everyone succeed. Even though you may not have looked like it, you were a smarty pants, too. And he found that extremely hot.
During his lecture, he’ll sometimes catch you applying lip gloss or fixing your hair in your compact mirror and think to himself how gorgeous you are and how lucky your boyfriend that you totally already have is.
Cuz there’s no way he could pull someone like you. Those days are over for him. Plus, you were way out of his league.
But he can’t help but have a sliver of hope every time you leave class with an adorable smile and small wave.
“Thank you so much, Professor O’Hara! Great class today!!”, your praise never ceasing to make him slightly flustered on the inside.
Before you, he totally fucked his own hand like everyday. He’s a lonesome man. But now that you were in his life? That man goes home everyday, imagining his had is your luscious, tight cunt, replaying your cute voice in his head over and over again.
What he has no idea is that his praise has the same effect on you.
Anytime you had a question or were worried that you weren’t understanding a concept, Miguel would comfort you, with the most gentle words and voice.
He was such a cute man. It’d be so easy to praise him and baby him, telling him he’s sooo smart and such a good teacher.
His well-kept black hair w tiny hints of gray throughout, his black rimmed square glasses, his little cashmere sweater + button up combos that hugged around his broad chest, enormous biceps, and pudgy belly. He was sooo dreamy. He made it so hard to focus.
You’d go up to his desk after class needing clarification on a topic. He’d tell you to sit down, eager to help you with the class (or anything ever, he’d do anything for you if it meant keeping you).
His cologne would fill your nose as he bends over the table, a strand of hair falling on his forehead, pushing his glass up his nose as he towers over you as he explains what ever it was you were confused about.
It never helped because you never caught a single word. You were too busy imagining his soft stomach rubbing against your back as he bends you over the table, plowing you while saying those sweet words of encouragement into your ear.
And those veiny, hairy arms and hands wrapped around your waist as he bounces you on his fat cock, making those adorable glasses of his fog up.
“Don’t worry, sweetie, you’re doing great, as always.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, sweetheart.”
“I know, mama, It’s a hard concept to grasp, but you’ll get it. I know it.”
It made you scream on the inside. You wanted so badly to be a good student for him so that he could talk to you this way every single class.
Pt.2 here!
Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!
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sofiawritesstuff · 4 months ago
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Platonic
part 4
summary: When Lando's "playboy" imagine is setting a bad reputation for him. He's turns to the person he trust most in this world for help.
pairing: landonorris x bestfriend!reader
warnings: none (i don't think)
part 3
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To Lando the place he found happiness was whereever your were, but the place he found peace was always the beach.
You had met in the kitchen in the early hours of the morning, neither of you could sleep with the hot summer European air.
It took a lot of convincing from Lando for you to agree to take a walk to the beach this early in the morning, especially when you were more concerned about his busy schedule that day.
"Isn't it nice?" Lando asks turning to you, watching as you stared out to the sea "It is" you smile "I do need to talk to you, and I need you to talk to me. It's just us. Nobody else around"
He sighs, following your eyes to the water, nodding his head in agreement "Alright"
"You know how much I love you, I love everything about you, except one thing"
"Oh yeah and what's that?"
"How hard you are on yourself, why do you only see the bad things? Why not the good?" you ask resting your head on his shoulder. He leans down and kisses your head before speaking
"It took me five years for me to get my first win, a lot of people don't like me and critique me for every little mistake. If I notice my mistakes before everyone else then it won't hurt as much when I read them"
"I understand what you are saying Lando, but you only focus on the mistakes that you do, you never see the good. Look at every podium you've gotten this year alone and instead of expecting a win every single weekend, this year is tough and it's very competitive"
"I just want to be the best, look at Max, he's winning championships, winning race after race. That's what I want to do"
"It great to be inspired by someone Lan but there's no point in comparing yourself to someone when you can make a name for yourself. I wish you saw yourself the way that I saw you" you couldn't help but let the tears fall from your eyes, lifting your head to face him
"And how do you see me?" he asks wiping the tears that had fell to your cheeks, resting his forehead against your "An amazing driver, a kind person with the biggest heart, someone that would do anything for his friends. A future world champion" you whisper
He leans down, kissing your neck "You don't understand how much I love you, thank you for understanding me"
You stayed on the beach a little longer, before heading back to the apartment. You both decided to go into Lando's to the bed
-
You watched carefully as the end of qualifying approached, Lando setting a good lap with only a short time left.
In Monaco, qualifying mattered hugely since it was a hard track to over take on during the race.
“Come on Lan” you whispered to yourself “He’s going to do it” a voice appears behind you, you turn to see Andrea with a smile on his face as he puts a hand on your shoulder
As soon as he crossed the line and set the fastest lap time of the session, you ran to where he would be to congratulate him.
“Good qualifying ay?” Zak approaches you with a smile, you return the smile and clap your hands as Lando get out the car, he take his helmet off kissing your cheek and hugging you
“I’m so proud of you”
“Thanks princess”
He greets the rest of the team, hugging them while they congratulate him, before he goes to his interviews he squeezes your hand that held onto the barricade. You could feel your heart pounding against your chest.
“You guys are doing a good job” Zak whispers “At what?” you ask turning to face him “Pretending you’re in love with each other” he laughs as if it’s obvious
“We’re not” you stop yourself before you can safe anything more “Thanks Zak. I need to go to the bathroom, tell him that i’ll meet him outside his garage?”
“Sure thing”
Knowing Lando will take a while you don’t rush, you go to the bathroom in his drivers room and pack up some of his stuff while you wait. Leaving fresh clothes for him for after his shower.
After half an hour, you leave his drivers room and take your seat in his garage, sent a text to both your family and his family keeping them updated with their busy schedules.
“Princess!” Lando yells running towards you, you stand him and jump on him while he picks you up “Pole sitter for the Monaco Grand Prix, I never want you to doubt yourself again” you smile as he puts you down
“Princess?”
“Yeah Lan?”
“Just like when we were 11 okay?” he says putting his hand on your cheek “What?” he cut you off by pressing his lips to yours, you melt into it wrapping your arm around his neck
After a few seconds he pulls away, looking outside the garage “Do you think they got it?”
You follow his eyes to the photographers standing outside, your heart drops. He didn’t mean it. It was just for the cameras.
part 5
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zepskies · 4 months ago
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Lost on You - Part 2
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader
Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.
AN: As you can see, I switched up the posting schedule slightly (check out the series masterlist for new "coming soon" dates). Thank you, guys so much for all the responses on Part 1! I hope you have just as much fun with Part 2. 😉
Word Count: 5.9K
Tags/Warnings: "Lies, lies, lies, yeah." ‘80s references, a new mission (and violence), cattiness, and some more cat and mouse tension.  
🎙️ Series Masterlist || YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist
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Part 2: Foolish Game
“You know, we really are a family here. The whole Payback team,” Crimson Countess said.
Her voice was filled with earnestness as she held the microphone to her ruby red lips with both gloved hands. She smiled and reached out a hand to you.
“But it’s truly my pleasure to welcome Sirena into the fold. It’s about time we got another badass chick on the team, am I right?”
She knew how to play up the packed crowd in the auditorium. They roused with cheers and clapping, and you stepped closer to her in the spotlight.
It wasn’t entirely an act when you gave them (and several cameras) a somewhat shy smile. You’d been on stages almost all your life, but never one like this. You knew you were being seen by the entire country right now.
On Countess’s other side was Soldier Boy and the TNT Twins, while on your side stood Black Noir, Swatto, and Mindstorm keeping himself in the back. Off at the far left of the stage were Arthur and Madelyn Stillwell, both seemingly patient and professional.
“And you look great, hun. I love the new suit,” Countess said, gesturing at you with a playful air.
You smiled a little more and affected some humility. You tried not to adjust the black mask sitting on the bridge of your nose. It felt like a pair of pool goggles.
“Well, a little leather goes a long way,” you joked into your own mic. It earned some laughs from the sea of flashing lights amidst darkness.
Countess laughed, a sultry sound. “I know that’s right.”
“I’m really just so grateful to be here on this incredible stage with you all,” you said, casting a hand at the rest of the team. “I’m just a girl from a dusty little town in Indiana. Seriously. Imagine Smallville, Kansas, but more tumbleweeds.”
Cue more indulgent laughter. The lie was well-rehearsed on your tongue, along with this next bit, as you looked into the closest camera.
“But if you all see some small greatness in me, then I’m honored and ready to serve,” you finished.
Enthusiastic applause met the end of your little speech. You smiled and lowered the mic. Countess nodded in agreement and offered her mic to Soldier Boy next. He stepped up to the center podium and leaned on it like he was John Wayne.
“Well, it’s a good day when another hero joins our ranks. I have a feeling that Sirena,” he paused, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, ��Is gonna be a good fit.”  
You didn’t like that smile on his face, but instead of letting that show on yours, you gave him a grateful smile. He had the gall to wink at you. Then he handed the mic back to Arthur and stepped back from the podium.
“All right, one more time, you guys. Let’s hear it for Sirena!” Arthur said to the crowd, and they erupted. You accepted the praise with a demure smile and a congenial wave, like you were Princess Diana or something.
The rest of your team gave perfunctory claps as well, but Soldier Boy was the first to head off stage. Countess and the rest of them followed suit, so you did as well. She and Soldier Boy didn’t even share a glance when she stopped off into the women’s restroom. An idea struck you, and you decided to join her.
“Hey, Countess,” you began to say, but she let out a humorless huff.
“What, are you going to follow me into the fucking stall?” she said dryly.
You were momentarily taken aback by her acidity. You blinked, and she turned to give you a bored look.
“I…just wanted to say that I really look up to you,” you said.
“Do you?” she asked, with a slightly mocking smile. Her gaze briefly ran down your form. “Is that why your suit looks like a Dollar Store knockoff of mine?”
Ah…okay, you thought. You saw what this bitch was about. She’d supported you in the public eye, but she didn’t actually want another woman on the team. She’d been a powerhouse for over a decade, and not just her years at Vought.
But for every icon, there’s the threat of becoming an old has-been, you thought. 
“Well, you’ve got a point there. I asked for a cape too, but they thought it was a bit too…retro,” you remarked, hinting at a smile as you gestured at her suit, and the long red cape that draped down her back. “But really, I’m a big fan. I actually grew up watching you when I was a kid. I remember that little documentary you did with Vought Geographic. The one with the baby chimps? So cute.”
Countess’s brow twitched, ever so slightly. Both her fake smile and yours remained the same.
She broke first with a roll of her eyes.
“Just stay out of my way,” she said. Her cape brushed your arm as she breezed past you. Your smile remained until she was out of the room. Then you took a deep breath.
Be careful, you reminded yourself. You had to prove that you wouldn’t easily bend to whatever bullshit might get thrown at you, but you were still the rookie here. You had a feeling that this was just the first test of many.
You kept your guard up, even at the afterparty hosted at a nearby hotel. Tessa followed Countess’s lead and gave you fake smiles when you passed by her. Otherwise, she ignored you. Mindstorm was the only one who seemed truly indifferent towards you. (You barely ever saw him out of his room anyway.)
You couldn’t much tell with Black Noir. He’d never taken his helmet off in the few days since you’d met him, but you sensed nothing but vague interest from him. The other three men were more obvious in the way they looked at you.
In fact, you could’ve predicted the way Soldier Boy found you in a slightly quieter corner of the banquet hall. His gait was relaxed and arrogant as he made his way towards you.
He annoyed you on sight, no matter how damn attractive he was. All broad shouldered and brown hair coiffed, his face mostly clean shaven, save for some stubble. With his military green supe suit, the silver decal of an eagle stretched across his broad chest—he certainly looked the part of America’s first hero. Too bad he was also a chauvinistic ass.
But you also had a plan. It had started to form after that first encounter with him in the break room.
You kept your true thoughts off your face as you turned to greet him. He was holding his fifth tumbler of whiskey, and he smelled like it too. You sipped at a glass of red wine.
“Small town girl, huh?” he said, smiling with old-world charm. “I happen to be a city boy.”
“Born and raised in South Detroit?” you teased. “I didn’t take you for a Journey fan.”
“The mean streets of Philly, actually,” he said, with a tip of his imaginary hat. “I may be a Sinatra kind of guy, but I don’t mind a little rock ‘n roll.”
You inclined your head. “Same here. Not that my parents approved. Growing up, I had to hide my Rolling Stones records under the bed.”
That much was true.
“Ah, a little rebel,” he remarked. His gaze roamed down your form, and back up to your eyes, shaded by smokey makeup. “Who knew they made ‘em like you in Indiana.”
Your lips curved. “It’s not just cows and cornfields.”
“Evidently,” he said, taking a swig of his whiskey. “How do you like the big city so far?”
“To be honest, I haven’t had a chance to see much of it yet. This whole thing has been a whirlwind,” you said.
Lie.
The truth was, you were born and raised in Brooklyn. Maybe you had never lived in Manhattan before, but you were no stranger to the city.
Ben not only ate up the lie; he took the bait.
“Maybe I’ll give you a tour of the city one day,” he said. He thumbed at your chin once again with half-gloved fingers.
You tipped your face up to him, and you smiled.
“I’d like that.”
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Your first mission with Payback was not at all what you expected.
To start with, you’d expected to do some patrolling, run down some leads, do some investigating. Instead, they had a Surveillance & Security team to do all of that for the team. Plus, they were patched in via the local police scanner of any new crimes in progress.
Arthur had paged you to come to his office. There he told you that you’d actually be going for your first save today. You were excited, until he told you that you’d be on a “team up” with Crimson Countess.
Great, you thought.
She didn’t look happy about it either, when you met her in the lobby downstairs. She gave you another frigid look before she swiftly exited the double doors.
Stay out of my way. You got the message loud and clear.   
A black SUV took you two to the Lower West Side, where there was a robbery in progress. The front window of the jewelry story had been shattered, and tens of thousands of dollars in merchandise stolen by two masked men according to the store clerk. He’d been shot in the shoulder before the men took off. The police had yet to find them.
The most unnerving part of this was the cameras that followed you and Countess while you canvassed the area—like catching criminals was some kind of reality show.
“I think I can feel them,” you said, with your fingers on your temples. “They’re headed south through the alley.”
“Which alley?” she asked, waving a hand at the several blocks ahead of you. “And what do you mean you can feel them?”
You shot her a look, endeavoring not to be snarky. “I can sense them.”
Let’s just say, your powers were particularly potent when it came to men. That’s what allowed you to feel the robbers’ energies, set high with adrenaline. They were close.
You pointed the way, and Countess begrudgingly went along with it.
“Follow my lead though,” she said.
You agreed in the moment, but you were filled with maybe too much anticipation and excitement yourself when you turned the corner into the alley without waiting for your companion.
You found yourself staring down the barrel of a gun.
You froze, your breath stilling in your lungs. The safety clicked, and the man holding the weapon quirked his head.
“Haven’t seen you before,” he drawled.
“But you know me. Don’t you, handsome?”
Countess’s fist landed squarely across the man’s jaw. He yelped as the weapon clattered out of his hand. You jumped back as the gun fired, ricochetting off the brick wall. Countess rolled her eyes and tossed a fireball at the next man, who jumped out of his hiding place behind the dumpster. He screamed and dove to the side.
She didn’t wait for him to recover. Grabbing him by the collar with a gloved hand, she threw one hard punch that broke the man’s jaw. You winced at the telltale cracking sound. The other man just held his hands up in surrender, wide-eyed and afraid. You felt his fear radiating off of him. With another swift punch, she knocked him out as well.
You could only stand there with your mouth open in surprise. You managed to close it when Countess turned your way.
“I told you to follow my damn lead,” she said coolly.
The police filtered in shortly after, as did the camera crew. The director sighed at Countess.
“This was supposed to be Sirena’s first save,” he said. Countess turned to him with a sharp look.
“Train her fucking better then,” she snapped.
You chewed the inside of your lip, but you fought not to outwardly show your embarrassment. Why’d they have to partner you with her, for fuck’s sake?
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The car ride back to the Tower was just as tense and silent. At least there was a black partition between you two in the backseat and the driver.
Finally, you sighed and tried to offer an olive branch.
“Look, I’m sorry. I just got a bit excited,” you said.
“You almost got yourself killed,” she drawled, not even looking at you as she gazed boredly out the window. “Even that would’ve been a challenge for the PR team.”
Your lips pursed in irritation. Oh, my God. Is she that insecure?
“Countess, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m not trying to replace you. I’m not trying to take anything from you.”
“Except my boyfriend,” she shot back. Finally she turned her head towards you with cool disdain. “You think I didn’t see you flirting with him last night at the afterparty?”   
You rolled your eyes, though you hid a sliver of embarrassment. You should’ve known she’d spot that.
“He approached me, okay?” you said. Maybe you were about to let your pettiness to get the best of you, but you couldn’t help it. You smiled slyly. “And from what I hear, I’m the least of your worries. Looks like Ben has quite the appetite.”
The cracks of Countess’s cool façade finally broke through to anger. She glared at you tightly.
“He may have his little toys, but they never last long,” she said pointedly. “The only reason he’s giving you the time of day is because you’re new, and shiny, and full of silicon.”
“And young,” you added with a wink. “Don’t forget young.”
She seethed, and you were almost concerned that she might toss a fireball your way. Mercifully, the car rolled to a stop in the back entrance to the Tower to make it easier to navigate past any paparazzi. You slid out on your side, and you didn’t bother waiting for Countess when you went back inside the Tower.
All the way back up the elevator to your floor, you thought about the way you’d frozen at the sight of the man’s gun. You did have proper combat training. Your dad had paid for the lessons.
“You’re gonna pay us back one day,” as he’d said. “We’re investing in our future, just as much as yours.”
You shook your head and sighed. You should have grabbed the robber’s arm and reached for any flash of skin you could touch to compel him into submission.
The thought continued to unsettle you as you went into the breakroom first for something to eat. You ended up making yourself a sandwich and sat down at the nearby dining table with an unsweetened tea. Swatto happened to fly in for a coke and an old slice of pizza. When he noticed you, his insect-like wings folded back into his back after he landed on the ground.
Out of everyone, his suit looked the most cumbersome with the big shoulder armor and the condom-like mask over half his face. You understood why he wasn’t wearing it now. He was dressed down in an old Ramones shirt and a pair of jeans. He ran his fingers through his short hair and slid into the chair closest to you.
“Hey. How’s it going, beautiful?” he asked, with what was likely meant to be a charming smile.
You were close enough to sense his salacious thoughts. You restrained a sigh. Ordinarily you’d entertain him a bit more, but frankly, he was making a bad day worse and you weren’t in the mood.
So you smiled. While your hand slid over his on the table, you leaned in close to his ear.
“Shoo, fly,” you said. Your words held power as your eyes glowed violet.
Immediately, you felt the way Swatto’s body sat up straighter. With a blankness falling over his face, he got up from the table and left the way he came, forgetting his snacks on the table.
You shook your head and continued eating your sandwich in peace.
A few minutes later, there came an even rarer sighting—Mindstorm snuck into the breakroom next. He glanced at you with wary eyes, like a deer pausing before it took a drink from the pool. When you just stared at him in slight bewilderment, he quickly rucked through the cupboards for a bag of Bugles labeled:
MINDSTORM’S – DO NOT EAT!
As if anyone would want to steal a bag of Bugles.
Just when you opened your mouth to offer him some kind of greeting, Mindstorm quickly ducked out of the room. You blinked in confusion.
“Odd,” you said to yourself. “So very odd.”
“Right?” came a voice behind you. You screamed and nearly jumped out of your skin, but you realized it was only Black Noir, holding a beer.
“Jesus…” You held a hand over your beating heart. It wasn’t the first time he’d snuck up on you like that. Can this guy wear a bell or something?
“Don’t mind him. He’s got a few dozen screws loose,” said Noir.
Unlike the other two, he was fully suited up. However, he took his helmet off and set it on the table so he could drink. You held in a breath, as you were pleasantly surprised to see the face of a handsome black man. It was the first time you’d ever seen him unmasked.
Wonder what else he’s hiding under there, you thought. Your gaze briefly dipped down his chest and strong-looking thighs.
You both chatted over small things at first. According to Noir, Mindstorm’s apartment was completely soundproof, but it didn’t do much good for the guy, since he had a hard time keeping people’s thoughts out of his head. You thought New York City was probably a terrible place for him to live, in that case.
“And you’re smalltown, right?” Noir asked.
You offered a half-smile. “Guilty.”
“Yeah, same here,” he said, raising his beer. “From a nowhere town in Georgia.”
For the first time, you felt slightly bad for keeping up the lie. Noir seemed like a decent guy so far. You clinked your iced tea with his beer.
“Well, Nowhere, it’s nice to find a kindred spirit,” you said.
You two drank for a bit in a comfortable silence, until he turned to you with curiosity in his dark brown eyes as he took you in. 
“So, what made you want to join Payback? The pay, or the free shit?” he asked.
You quirked a smile. You decided to give him the easiest answer he’d believe.
“Well, the free shit is a big perk. But…as vapid as it sounds, I wanted to get out of the background, make a name for myself,” you said. Noir nodded.
“Believe me, I get it. Around here, it can be hard to stand out,” he said. His brows knitted together while he stared hard at the table. You watched him, wondering what he meant.
After a beat, he perked up and met your gaze. “You know, I’ve been wanting to pitch a movie idea to Arthur.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, just trying to…you know, find the right words.”
Your expression eased, and you crossed your arms and turned towards him.
“Okay, let’s go then,” you said, waving at him in a bring it on gesture.
Noir’s brows popped up. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, why not?” you said. “Give me your best elevator pitch.”
Black Noir stood up from the table, nearly knocking over his empty beer bottle as he went. You grabbed it so it wouldn’t tip over. You were amused by his slightly flustered state. He set his hands on his hips and couldn’t quite meet your eyes when he started speaking.
“So, I’m thinking it could be like 48 Hours meets Trading Places. Except instead of a wise-cracking criminal or a guy down on his luck, I’m like, a wise-cracking ninja.”
“But ninjas don’t typically talk, do they?” you said. Clearly this guy had a thing for Eddie Murphy. “Aren’t they supposed to be stealthy?”
Noir raised a finger. “Okay, yes, but it’s a comedy. So that’s the ironic part, in a funny way.”
“So you’ll make witty quips before you kill your targets?” you said, holding in a laugh. You brandished an invisible sword. “‘You’re gonna need a new carpet.’ Fshh.”
You mimed a cutting motion, then blood spraying from your neck as you made some mock death throes. Noir stared at you blandly. You bit your lip.
And you were the first one to break with a laugh. The sound was infectious enough to break him too though. Noir couldn’t help but shake his head and chuckle along with you.
You were almost too distracted to hear a pair of heavy boots, and sense the male presence at the door. You turned at the flash of green in the corner of your eye.
Of course, the cast wouldn’t be complete without Soldier Boy. Or Ben, as he’d insisted you call him.
His gaze roamed the room with feigned disinterest, but you could tell when he looked over at you and Noir that he wasn’t pleased. He clung to stoicism as he approached your table with his usual gait: calm, controlled, and arrogant.
“What’s going on in here?” he asked with a raise of his brow. “Could hear you all the way down the hall.”
“Just working on a pitch for Noir’s new movie,” you said, though the man in question gave you a hard stare. One that warned you to stop talking.
“Noir’s new movie?” Ben said, with a curl of his lip. He turned to the other man. “Trying to compete with Red Thunder before it’s even out in the box office? That’s not very good form.”
“No, no. Of course not,” said Noir. “Just…throwing some ideas around.”
“Oh, yeah, I heard. Some kind of samurai bullshit,” Ben said dryly. His green-eyed gaze was sharp, however. “Why don’t you stop wasting people’s time on tragic fucking ideas, and find something actually fucking useful to do.”
You watched carefully between the two men. Was there some kind of bad blood here?
Noir’s lips pursed, but despite the spark of anger in his eyes, he kept it all inside when he lowered them. He got up from the table and left without another word, putting on his helmet as he went.
Ben shook his head and drew closer to you. You frowned up at him as you stood and crossed your arms below your breasts.
“Well, that wasn’t very kind,” you remarked.
“This is the real world, sweetheart. He still needs to learn his place on this team,” Ben replied. But then, his charm was back. His face eased into a smile. “I’m glad I found you. It’s time I made good on my promise.”
You tilted your head. “What promise?”
“To take you out,” he said. “Give you a little tour of the city.”
After that little display, you had even less interest to spend any more time with this man than absolutely necessary…
Remember the plan, you reluctantly reminded yourself.
“Come on,” he prodded, extending a hand out to you. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
Releasing a breath, you uncrossed your arms and slipped your hand into his.
“Okay. I would appreciate you showing me around,” you said, giving him a smile with some feminine charm of your own.
His lips curved into a grin. He raised your hand up to his lips, and despite yourself, his stubble ignited small tingles across your skin.
“Meet me downstairs in half an hour,” he said.
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After taking the time to change out of your supe suit and into something dressier, reapplying your makeup and fixing up your hair, you met Ben downstairs out front. He was waiting for you there on a motorcycle, of all things.
“Really?” you asked, giving the vehicle a dubious look. “I thought you’d be a limo kind of guy.”
“Oh, I am. But today we need speed if we’re going to cover the whole city,” he said with a grin. He revved the engine, and it let out a loud, rumbling sound. It looked like a death trap.  
“I don’t know, Ben,” you said, for the first time using his name. You were actually nervous enough to show it.
He chuckled and motioned you over. Reluctantly, you went to him. His hand smoothed down your arm and held your elbow. He peered into your eyes.
“You think I’m going to let you fall on my watch?” he said. 
You held his gaze. Eventually, you bit your lower lip, and you accepted his offer of a helmet (even though he was going without one), then his helping hand to climb onto the motorcycle behind him. You tentatively held onto his waist.
“That ain’t gonna cut it, baby doll,” he said. He grabbed your hands and tugged you closer, until your arms wrapped around his middle. You made a small sound of surprise, feeling the solidness of his frame. You had a feeling he was grinning.
“All right, hold on,” he warned, revving the engine once again.
Your teeth clenched with dread. “Please, go slooow—ahhh!”
Ben peeled out of the curved landing in front of Vought Tower with a screech of tires. You gripped onto his jacket like a lifeline and pressed yourself to his back as closely as you could—something you were sure was his intention.
You sensed his amusement, though he at least had the decency not to laugh at you. He merged onto the street and zipped through the layers traffic, heading towards the center of the city.
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Ben didn’t just show you the city. He showed you his world.
He first took you to Top of the Rock at Rockefeller Center. Instead of the normal group tour to the observational deck, he had a short chat with management that had them letting you two up to an even higher level, into an exclusive bar. It was apparently so high up that only twenty people could be inside at a time.
You two enjoyed a couple of drinks along with the amazing view of the city, and of Empire State across the way.
“You don’t get views like this in Indiana, do you?” Ben asked.
You nodded indulgently. “You do not.”
Never mind that you had never even been to Indiana. Yet, you had also never seen the city like this either.
“Thank you for taking me out like this,” you said. You reached out and softly touched his hand. You met his eyes with a subtle smile. “I didn’t know what to expect when I got here, but you’ve been really nice to me. Makes me think I can actually belong here.”
He seemed pleased as he sipped his drink, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand.
“What can I say? I’m a nice guy,” he said.
You smiled, affecting demure as you ducked your head. It was an act you’d long ago perfected. Men tended to underestimate you, and you always used that to your advantage.
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From there, he took you to clubs you’d never even knew existed, then to a restaurant so old, it still had a dress code. (And it was the best surf and turf you’d ever had in your life.)
When you got to Times Square, however, you were delayed practically an hour by all the fans who wanted Soldier Boy’s autograph. Once the first couple of young women recognized him, even out of his suit, it was all downhill as more and more people got excited by the world’s most famous superhero.
You stood off to the side, watching him be flirtatious to women of all ages, ruffling kids’ hair, and shaking hands with men, and even veterans who thanked him for his service.
You signed a couple of autographs and took some pictures with people yourself, but you knew you wouldn’t be recognized as much. You had to be content with waiting for Ben off to the side. Though admittedly, you were getting bored and more than a little annoyed that he was taking so long.
He seemed to realize it when he finally looked your way.
“Hey, Sirena!” he called out to you by your supe name, drawing your attention in front of a few of his fans. He waved you over, and even introduced you to the small crowd still gathered around him. He set a hand on your lower back.
“I’m sure you all know about Sirena, the newest member of our team,” he said. You looked up at him with some measure of gratefulness. Maybe this part of the day was working in your favor even more than you’d thought.
You intentionally leaned closer to him, laying a semi-innocent hand on his arm as you smiled at the others.
“I’m taking some time to show her around,” he continued, glancing down at you. “She’s from a small town, so this city can be pretty daunting. But it’s my home. My favorite place in the world. Especially because I get to see all of you.”
He swept a hand out towards the crowd, and they ate it up with cheers, clapping, and some flirtatious whistling. He shot a wink and a raised finger at that one.
“If you’ll excuse us,” he said, with one last parting hand at the people. He ushered you back onto the motorcycle, and off you went.
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He was trying his damndest.
He wore that fake, debonair charm like a second skin as he got you a private tour of the Met, and treated you to rich food and expensive wine. He was showing off his wealth, his fame, and giving you the “best” of him.
However, you had already seen glimpses of the true man underneath the gaudy show. And it was ugly, with an edge of darkness.
You had that thought in the back of your mind, even while you two sat side by side on a ledge. He’d brought you to a spot near the Hudson River, close to an overpass. It wasn’t an area meant for parking (according to the No Parking sign), but he didn’t seem to care.
Neither did you, really. The view was too beautiful, with the large orange sun halfway sunk below the water. It cast shades of yellow and red and purple across the sky, even over the dark waters.   
Ben was working on his third hotdog. You were licking your way around a scoop of cookies and cream ice cream on a waffle cone, letting the end of it swirl off your tongue. You resisted a smile, feeling the warmth of his gaze on the side of your face.
“So tell me,” he said, after he finished off his snack. He crumpled his napkin and tossed it somewhere behind him. “I heard you were making a name for yourself as a singer. What made you want to join Payback?”
He was giving you a little too much credit. You’d been making your money by being a background singer for various artists, but your last big break going on Whitney Houston’s latest tour was what finally put you on Vought’s map.
You considered his question with a tilt of your head. Black Noir had asked you the same thing, more or less. You’d given him an easy, predictable answer. With Ben, you edged closer to the truth...or part of it, anyway.   
“I don’t just want people to know who I am,” you said. “I want to be remembered for something good. I want to prove it to my family too, that I can do it. …Is that naïve?”
Ben hummed in understanding, though he shot you a certain look.
“Not if you play your cards right,” he said. 
His leading tone didn’t surprise you. You slid him a smile. 
“And how should I do that?” you asked. You turned to him, setting your finished cone aside. Ben took the opportunity to reach out and draw a line down your cheek with his thumb. He wiped a small smear of chocolate from the corner of your mouth. 
He smirked. “By sticking close to me, baby doll.”
You had to admit, his proximity was stirring you more than you liked. He was devastatingly handsome, and he knew it too. With his face inching so close to yours, it was hard for you to remember the things this man had said about you to Arthur, how he clearly didn’t give a fuck about Countess, and even what a dick he'd been to Black Noir.
Not to mention, how he acted all the time, as if the whole world was his.
Just as his lips neared yours, you leaned back. Your eyes met his knowingly.
“You already have someone close to you,” you pointed out. “What about Countess?”
Ben stilled. He sighed, but he didn’t let go of your cheek. He traced your jawline with the sensuous promise of a practiced hand. It made your breath difficult in your lungs, rising into your throat.
“Ah, Donna,” he shook his head. “We’ve been on the rocks for a while now.”
I’m sure, you thought wryly.
“What you and I have, right here, right now,” he said, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your cheek. “It’s special. The moment I saw you, a pure connection.”
Your brows furrowed. Those words triggered some kind of familiarity in you. A pure connection…
Wait, isn’t that a line from one of his movies? you thought. Oh yeah, A Gentleman’s Promise. 1949.
You had to bite your lip to stifle your laughter. This man did not just quote himself.
Ben took your reaction for a different kind of inner conflict, as he continued pressing tantalizing kisses down your neck. You cleared your throat a little, fighting a sigh of pleasure.
Stick to the plan, you thought.
Because he was right. The fastest way for you to get what you wanted was to be close to him, to use his status to your advantage. Timing was everything, however.  
You slipped your hands between you two and pressed gently, but firm against his chest.
“Ben,” you implored.
You were grateful that he actually stopped. His lips stilled against your skin, and he pulled away with a frown.
“What?” he said.
You looked up at him through your lashes, before you leaned in, stopping just shy of his lips.
“Maybe I’ll consider your offer when there’s a real place for me by your side,” you said with a smile. Then you backed off.
You gathered yourself and stood, coyly sauntering back to the motorcycle. You’d wait for him there.
Ben turned to watch you go, unwilling to admit he was both equally aroused and irritated. His jaw clenched, then eased.
After a moment, he joined you and drove you back to the Tower in silence. All the while, he couldn’t stop thinking. About your lips, your eyes, your voice, your soft body, your smile, and worst of all, the way you’d denied him. For fuck’s sake, you’d given him an ultimatum.
He couldn’t remember the last time someone had that kind of audacity, let alone a woman. He wouldn’t let show, or even admit to himself, how much it affected him. But the same thought kept turning through his mind as the streets of New York passed by in a blur.
Just who the fuck does she think she is?
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AN: 😅 Lol Ben's got his work cut out for him. Think he'll be able to figure out her game?
Next Time:
“What’s in it for me then?” he asked, crossing his arms.
You blinked your eyes wider. Really?
“I doubt whatever you’re thinking, Soldier,” you said, a little more snidely than you meant to.
Ben's cocky smile said it all.
Your lips pursed in exasperation. You hadn’t thought you would have to bargain to get him to be nice to a kid. 
“Okay, I’m sorry. Clearly you’ve had a long day, so I’ll just get out of your way,” you said, raising your hands in surrender. You turned to leave.
“All right, don’t get your panties in a twist,” he said.
You paused at the door, tossing him an annoyed look over your shoulder.
His smile deepened. “I’ll do it.”
His steps were measured as he approached you. You turned back to face him, albeit warily. As he seemed to like doing, he gently grasped your chin between his fingers.
“I’ll do it for a kiss,” he said.
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3
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fangirl-dot-com · 6 months ago
Text
🏆 Sei a Casa, Charles 
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Light smut Summary: Monaco finally loved him back. Charles is home.
*my long awaited Charles Monaco win imagine! it is completed after my computer was finally fixed and after 30+ hours of having no power at my house. it's been a rough couple of days, but I'm still reeling in the moment that Charles won his home race.
*A big thank you goes to @pucksandpower for helping me with the smut parts. you all know that I can't write anything beyond a small make out sesh. you all will know what parts she wrote! but look for this ✨ if you want to skip it!
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
You couldn’t pick out the exact moment of when you started to cry. 
Was it lap 1? Lap 20? Lap 76? Maybe tears finally started to leak from your eyes as you stood under the podium, waiting for the love of your life to finally appear? Or were the tears drops of champagne that flowed from his winner’s bottle? 
You didn’t know, but you knew that the pride in your heart could not be contained internally. It had to escape somewhere, so it formed itself into tears that were shed as you watched the whole vast of Monaco finally love Charles back. 
You remembered the past times you cried as you stood below. 
Tears from him, from you, and from the both of you stained the past asphalt here in the principality. Disappointment after disappointment would forever be written in the streets of Monte Carlos. However, today was the rain that would wash everything away. 
Today was the day the sun finally shone once again. 
But the sun would not dry the tears of pride from your face, you wouldn’t let it. The testament of your love and pride could make divots in your face for the rest of time, and you’d never want to fill them. 
The applause around you grew as Carlos walked out, waving below. You could guess that the Spaniard knew that these people weren’t for him. They weren’t for anyone other than the green-eyed man in red. 
More applause sounded as the green and yellow suit of Oscar stood out against the red of everything else. Your partially adopted son for the weekend caught your eye and gave you a sad smile. You could only shake your head, hoping to relay that these tears were finally not for a broken heart. 
The moment the applause grew to screams, yells, and everything in between, you knew what it meant. In this moment, everything stood still in the chaos. Flags of red, yellow, red and white flew around your face. Joris stood behind you, hand on the small of your back to keep you steady. 
But like you, his tears didn’t stop: they multiplied. 
Finally, you had the courage to look up and gaze upon the subject of praise that would ring for all of eternity. You couldn’t help but join in, making a small dent in history for yourself. 
Pride seemed to double, tripling the number of tears that fell. You knew a camera was focused on you, but nothing could take your eyes away from him on the step, flag in his trembling hands. You were almost silently saying, “Turn the camera on the man who has rewritten his and the country’s history.” 
You watched as your prince wrapped his arms around his most precious gift. No one had been able to do what he did. A national treasure for the rest of time. 
You witnessed your princess hug him dearly. His hands still trembled as he clutched his red and white flag. If it made him feel any better, you were trembling too, along with the hosts of Monaco. The people trembled in their spots, the flags swished back and forth. Hell, the boats in the port still roared for him, almost thirty minutes after he had crossed that beloved finish line. 
When he finally turned to face the crowd below, your world went silent as your focus pinpointed on Charles. 
History’s Charles. Monaco’s Charles. Formula One’s Charles. 
Your Charles. 
A laugh finally bullied its way through your tears as you saw him accidentally drop the flag and scramble to pick it up. Joris had started to rub your back, knowing that you needed some comfort. Where Joris was, there you were too. 
The two of you liked to claim both spots of Charles’s right and left sides. Deemed the best WAGs by fans everywhere, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere but next to the boys. He had had a chance to race down to see your race winner before he had to go to the cooldown room. You had wanted to run with him, an invisible force wanted to drag you along. But you had stayed, to comfort and hug the people around you. 
Where Joris was on your left, Arthur was on your right. He looked so much like his brother. The boy, who you had watched grow through his own disappointments and sorrows, also had his tears. 
Today, however, every tear shed was the opposite of sorrows. They weren’t of heavy hearts or disappointments. 
Every tear shed was pride incarnate. 
The podium ended with Charles almost being drowned by his teammate and “adopted son.” How you wished you could be up there with him. You knew, though, that you’d have your time with him soon. 
When you were allowed to leave, Charles’s driver room was the first place you’d go. In the back of your mind, you knew that he’d still be a while, the media taking up his time. And after was the principality dinner, and then probably Jimmyz with however many people you could fit in the club. 
But then, after the whole of Monaco had a piece of him, he’d be yours. 
The door opening caught your attention as you looked up from your phone. Many say that second- or third-place-Charles still had a smile, but it wasn’t a true one. Today was a testament to that stamen as he walked in with the biggest smile on his face. 
If he could shine, he’d rival the sun. 
A sigh escaped Charles’s lips when he saw you sitting on his couch after he was done with media. He could see that your mascara had slightly run, the only clues that you had cried. 
“Mon ange,” he said as he dove into your awaiting arms. He felt damp under your hands, a mix of champagne and port water. You were ready for him to drop on you, and you welcomed the familiar weight. 
“My race winner,” you whispered, pressing a long kiss to his hairline. Charles had none of that as he leaned up to press his lips against yours, wanting a true feeling of you next to him. He could die happily now if he needed to. 
Your hands wrapped themselves in his hair, lightly tugging him back so that you could breathe. A low whine escaped him, making you lean your head back in laughter: his favorite sound of all. 
“We have to get going,” you gently reminded him, already in the process of standing up. “And you need to shower. You stink.” 
When you looked back down, Charles was definitely trying the puppy eyes on you, a pout joining on his lips. You shook your head. 
“None of that, Char. You know that only Leo can pull off the eyes.” 
Grumbles responded as he begrudgingly pulled himself off the couch. You knew that you only had a certain amount of time before people came looking for Charles. At that moment, you wanted to whisk him away, keep him from anyone for the rest of the night. However, your moments together wouldn’t happen until either late into the night or early in the morning. 
You could wait, he’s waited long enough for this. 
As the two of you quickly got ready after Charles biked home, which you thought was ridiculous, you enjoyed the quiet of your home. He seemed a bit on the quiet side, but you thought that he might be saving his energy for what was to come. You had picked out a very nice black dress that hugged your figure in just the right areas. 
When you walked into the living area, Charles’s back was to you, his hand patting his pocket. You cleared your voice, making him turn around. 
Charles’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. He stalked over and placed his hands on your hips, bringing you flush against him. 
“I think I must have died for an angel is before me.” 
You scoffed, hitting his shoulder lightly. 
“I must have done something good in my past life to have my own prince,” you said, hands joining together at his nape. Charles, aware of the time, led you over to the door, opening it for you. Below, his Ferrari Competizione waited to take you to the dinner. 
Charles didn’t know what he was expecting when he got there, but a standing ovation wasn’t one of them. You had to hold back more tears, as you didn’t want your makeup to be ruined. You stood with the halls of Monaco to honor Charles for his moment. 
Pascale, Arthur, and Joris watched you as you kept clapping with the others. The three knew that you loved Charles probably more than you loved anything else in life. You two had been together for five years, going through the ups and downs together. It was hard, but your love strengthened with every hurdle. 
When Charles got to sit back down as they started on the first course, you leaned over. 
“So, are you going to be knighted or something now?” 
Your question made him snort as he wiped his hands on his pants. It was probably nerves. He licked his lips, eyes flittering at the three who were watching on with hopeful eyes. In his mind, he knew that Antoine was waiting behind at a different table.
“I was hoping to be titled something else?” 
You cocked your head. “Oh? What were you thinking?” 
He didn’t answer, but his head moved to look at something on the table. Your eyes followed his line of sight to a small black box sitting in front of your plate.
Oh. 
You whipped your head back to Charles, who had a hopeful smile on his face. Your hands rose to cover your mouth. 
“You’re being serious?” you questioned, voice hitching with excitement. The small nod of his head made you want to squeal, but you kept in inside. Charles knew that you were a bit on the shyer side and probably didn’t want him to get down on one knee, so he gently reached over to grab the box. He turned to you and popped it open.
He grabbed the bottom of your chair and slid it next to him so that your shoulders were touching. He looked over, and it was his turn to have tears sliding down his cheeks. 
“Mon coeur. Mon amour. Mon soleil. Mon vie. You are the best thing that I have in this world, and after today I know that no race win could ever compare to you. Please let me be happy for the rest of my life with you.” 
This time, you let the tears fall as you nodded your head. “Yes.” 
Charles let out a sigh of relief as he took the ring from the box and slid it on your finger. Small claps came from the three at the table, as to not bring attention to the sweet and intimate moment. You leaned over and placed a kiss on his lips and rested your forehead against his. 
“Only if you’ll let me be happy for the rest of my life with you.” 
Charles lost his voice, too deep in emotion and happiness to answer. So, a simple nod would have to make due. 
Arthur decided to make a statement. “You both are going to get so wasted tonight.” 
The table erupted with laughter, because you knew he was correct. Charles deserved a party, and that’s what he was going to get. 
You at least had the smart thought process to keep your ring at the bottom of your purse that you carried in the club. Your hand clutched the handle, not letting anyone get near it in fear of having it be ripped out of your hand. 
Pierre was one of the first to congratulate you and Charles. The Frenchman held the two of you in his arms as he whispered congratulations. He wasn’t the only driver that knew of Charles’s plan. 
You smiled as your eyes caught Charles with the Monaco flag over his head. You had to pause your conversation with Max, jutting your head in the Monegasque’s direction. 
“I better go get him.” 
Max wiggled his eyebrows. “Wouldn’t want him to get into an inchident would we?”  
You playfully bumped your shoulder against his as you walked in Charles’s direction. If you thought your boyfriend’s eyes were wide before, they found even more room to widen when he made eye contact with you. 
Charles raised his arms up. “Mon ange! Everyone, it’s my fiancé! I’m getting married!” 
You wanted to wince as you prayed that everyone either was too drunk to comprehend his screeching or that they couldn’t hear him over the sound of the bass. 
You grabbed his arm and brought him closer. “I think it’s time to go home.” 
He nodded immediately. “Oui, oui. We need to go make beuacoup de bebes!” 
You flushed red under the lights of the club as Charles now dragged you along, Monegasque flag still over his head. Now you were really hoping that no one heard. You knew that he was joking though. However, when you got home, he might have been serious. 
The bass of the club still rang in your ears as you stumbled through the door of your apartment, lips locked with Charles in a passionate kiss. He fumbles blindly for the light switch, finally bathing the entryway in a soft glow as you pull apart breathlessly. 
“Mon belle,” Charles murmurs huskily, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. His eyes are shining with a mix of exhilaration and adoration. “My amazing fiancé. The true winner today.”
You let out a breathless giggle, feeling giddy and invincible in the wake of his historic Monaco win. “I just stood on the sidelines and cheered. You’re the one who drove like a demon out there.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he says fervently, capturing your lips again in a searing kiss. His hands roam hungrily over the curve of your waist, the soft swell of your hips, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the rumble of his groan against your mouth as your fingers tangle in his sweat-dampened curls.
“Bedroom,” you whimpered between heated kisses, already tugging at the buttons of his button up. “Now.”
Charles needed no further encouragement, sweeping you up into his arms in one fluid motion. You let out a squeal of surprise that quickly morphs into breathless laughter as he carries you down the hallway. Kicking open the bedroom door, he deposits you onto the luxuriously soft mattress before stretching out beside you, propped up on one elbow.
“You are so beautiful, mon chérie,” he husks, trailing a line of scorching kisses along your jawline. “My perfect girl.”  
“And you’re an overachiever,” you tease, smoothing the crinkles from his furrowed brow with gentle fingers. “Winning your home race. Proposing at the principality dinner. What more could a you ever want?”
Charles let out a low chuckle, capturing your wandering hand and brushing his lips over your knuckles. “Just you. It’s always you.”
You felt your cheeks warming at his words, the sheer intensity of his forest-eyed gaze. Even after all this time, he still had a way of making you feel like the only girl in the world. Sliding one hand around the back of his neck, you pull him down for a long, smoldering kiss.
“I love you,” you whisper against his lips between heated caresses. “My champion. Mon fiancé.”
He lets out a low groan, deepening the kiss until you’re both dizzily breathless and straining against each other with a rising tide of desire. His clever fingers are already making quick work of the buttons on your dress, pushing the satiny fabric off your shoulders in one smooth motion.  
You arch against him with a soft moan as his lips blaze a path over your collarbones, dancing lower to the hollow of your throat. Every brush of his mouth against your tingling skin has heat unfurling low in your belly. 
“Off,” you demand impatiently, tugging at the stubborn zipper of his pants until he finally kicks off the sweat-dampened fabric. His skin is feverishly hot to the touch, the lean muscles of his back rippling under your stroking palms as he settles over you.
Another breathless giggle escapes your lips as he nuzzles along the sensitive curve of your neck, whispering a stream of endearments. “You are insatiable.”
“Only for you, mon coeur,” he rumbles, amusement dancing in the depths of those enchanting eyes as he props himself up on his forearms to gaze down at you adoringly. “My everything. Ma vie.”
His mouth covers yours again in a long, drugging kiss that has your toes curling against the soft sheets. You lose yourself in the velvet glide of his tongue, the addictive taste of him, the delicious weight of his body pinning you to the mattress. Every nerve ending feels electrified by his scorching touch, every brush of skin against skin lighting up new sparks of longing.
When you finally break apart to catch your breath, Charles presses his forehead to yours with a contented sigh. “What did I do to deserve you, mon ange?”
Cradling his face in your hands, you meet his intense gaze steadily. “You won my love. Every single ounce of it.”
His smile is radiant, lighting up the room more brilliantly than a thousand racing spotlights as he leans in to capture your lips again. This time the kiss is softer, more tender — a communion between two souls completely lost in each other. He let his hand trail up your forearm and settled in in your palm. 
Your ring, that you had put back on in the car, felt cold against his fingers. He shivered at the feeling. You were his for the rest of his life. 
You and he lost all track of time in that blissful tangle of limbs, trading fevered caresses and breathless whispers of adoration. When climax was finally reached between the two of you, you let yourself bask in the pants coming from yours and his lips. 
Charles watched as you slightly winced as he pulled out, gently comforting you with sweet words. He quickly got up to grab a towel from the bathroom, wetting it with some water before going back to bed. Charles let his eyes gaze over your form, still coming down from the high. 
When he didn’t make any moves to get closer, you turned your head and sleepily smiled at him, arms reaching out. It was only then that Charles walked back over to the bed. He quickly wiped you down, and then himself before grabbing the duvet at the edge of the bed. 
You hummed lazily when the fluffy blanket was draped over your body. You scooted over and laid your head on his chest. 
“Welcome home, Charles. You’re finally home. Je t’aime.” 
Home, to him, would never be a place anymore. Because why would he need a place, when he could hold his home, his world, right in his arms. 
charles_leclerc has posted
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liked by arthur_leclerc, charliexy/n, and 3,644,920 others
charles_leclerc BEST DAY EVER ❤️❤️❤️ thank you for everything, I love you all ❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍
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f1crusade congrats! for everything, brilliant drive
charliexy/n CHARLES DID YOU TRY TO SNEAK IN AN ENGAGEMENT???
oscarpiastri congrats mom and dad! ❤️
y/n_l/n thank you son!
olliebearman KISS ASS I SAID I WANTED TO SAY IT FIRST
liamlawson NUH UH IT WAS ME
charles_leclerc it was actually none of you
logansargeant it was actually me ☺️
f1 ferrari champagne at the wedding on us!
y/nismother SHE'S GONNA BE Y/N LECLERC NOW I'M NOT READY
arthur_leclerc so, so proud of you ❤️ Jules and papa would be so proud
charles_leclerc ❤️❤️
y/nleclerc I knew it!! I will never change my username EVER
scuderiaferrari that's our boy 🇲🇨☀️
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
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userlando · 1 year ago
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my only sunshine — george russell
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george russell x fem!reader [1.9k] summary: george feels like the whole world has come crashing down, but he luckily has you to pick him up. warnings: 18+ explicit smut & language, hurt & comfort a/n: i felt so so bad for george last night that i couldn't help but imagine how it'd be like to comfort him afterwards. i wasn't originally planning on writing smut but figured i'd throw it in there. anyway, hope you like this, lmk if you do!! <3
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Silence. It’s all you’re in after the day has slid toward its end, the rumbling of the car providing you with the slightest comfort as you sit next to the man who’s given you so much. So much love, hope, inspiration and everything that you can’t seem to reciprocate at the moment because you can see that he’s dissociating, eyes staring off into the distance but it’s like he’s not looking. Just… seeing.
His hand in yours is warm, clammy, but he’s holding it tightly like he can’t seem to bear to let it go in fear of breaking down completely; Like your hold is the only thing tethering him to sanity. It makes your stomach twist and your heart ache with gruelling worry.
He mumbles hello’s and thank you’s as he guides the both of you through the lobby of the hotel, saying nothing as you press the elevator button. You can’t stop looking at him, wondering what he’s thinking but you know it can’t be anything good judging by his glassy eyes, red-rimmed with unshed tears.
George had been so close to podium, so close to getting that win he deserved and fought hard for. It had almost felt like reality slipped from your fingers as you watched his car lose control, taking him out of the race before any of you had time to blink. The garage had been in despair for your boyfriend and so had you, conflicted with Lewis’ win as he raced toward the finish line. Nothing has quite managed to break your heart as hearing your boyfriend’s voice over the radio, holding back tears for the sorrow he must’ve been feeling.
You stare at the tension in his back as he walks into the hotel room, shuffling through your thoughts and wondering whether you should speak or not. You know from experience that he’ll come to you eventually, and he will seek comfort in his own, wordless way but it doesn’t stop you from desperately wanting to reach out to him.
George turns when you drop your bags on the floor, giving you a slight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and you give one back.
“Go have a shower, I’ll order us something to eat.” You grab his hand in yours and watch as his fingers scramble to hold on, head nodding slowly. You press a kiss to his open palm. “Go.”
He goes without any preamble, leaving the door ajar and you walk around the room to redress into something comfier before calling for room service.
It’s a hot and stuffy night, but you welcome the slight breeze when you crack open the balcony doors and walk outside to take a look. It’s a gorgeous city filled with good memories, and you’d hate to think that tonight would taint them.
The sound of the shower running acts as background noise, and you get lost in your thoughts before the creak of the bathroom door pulls you out of them. You turn around and timidly walk inside, trying to tamper the sudden speed of your heart at the sight of your boyfriend walking across the room in his underwear; scrubbing his wet hair with a towel with way more aggression than necessary.
It’s the first sign he’d given you that he’s angry, ever since he first jumped out of his crashed car. He sniffles, the sound too loud in the silent room and you gingerly sit on the bed because you don’t know what to say to make it better.
You know that it’s something that he’ll eventually get over. Not completely, but the feeling of sadness and disappointment will dissipate with time. Right now, he just needs to lick his wounds.
He flings the towel in the direction of the sofa, missing it completely and it falls with a thump on the floor but you don’t focus on it for too long, watching George as he finally meets your eyes.
He’s been crying.
George’s eyes are red, watery and it makes your heart clench fiercely as you stretch your arms out for him to fall into. He doesn’t say a word as he lets you hold him, the shaking of his shoulders a clear indication that he’s finally broken down.
“You’re okay.” You whisper into his wet hair, holding his head so delicately as you fight your own tears off.
He doesn’t say anything as he cries and you don’t even know what you whisper to him, but it seems to work because his sniffling eventually fades off. You stroke his wet hair and kiss his head, pulling him in closer to you, like it’s possible to be any closer than you already are.
“I fucking had it.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it.
But it’s there, and he sounds angry with himself.
“I know.” It’s all you can say, knowing that there’s nothing else that can help him.
“I just had to go fuck it all up.”
You tighten your grip on him, guiding his head from your chest to look at his face. It’s heartbreaking to see the dried streaks on his cheeks, long eyelashes clumped together from the tears but he looks as beautiful as ever.
“You didn’t fuck anything up.” Your voice is firm, thick with emotion but you power through. “Shit happens, you can never predict the outcome of these races and you know it better than anyone. It was a long race, and you did your best. That’s all you can ask of yourself.”
He shakes his head.
“I should’ve done better.” His eyes fill with tears again, eyebrows scrunching up in anguish. “I could’ve done better.”
“Maybe so.” You brushed a thumb under his eye. “But you did your best at that moment, baby. It’s a tough track.”
He made a noise of dissent and you leaned forward to press a kiss to his warm cheek, keeping your lips there. The way he subconsciously leaned into it made your chest tighten in adoration.
“You’ll always be amazing to me, Georgie.” You whispered against his skin. “I don’t know if that counts for something, but it’s the truth.”
He turned his head so your lips caught the corner of his, making you smile.
“It means the world, and you know it.” He said, squeezing your hip. “I love you.”
“I love you.” You waited until he turned his head fully, accepting the kiss that he was quick to press to your mouth.
It was like a switch had been flipped the moment your lips opened up to each other, George placing both hands on either side of you so he could guide you up the bed until he was looming above you. You sucked in a well needed breath when he trailed his lips down, kissing and sucking your jaw and throat in urgency.
“George…” The sound of his name from your lips made him stop and glance up, eyes trained on you. “Are you sure you wanna do this now?”
His answer came in the form of a kiss that stole the breath from your lungs, your legs caging his hips in and bringing your crotches together. The shudder that he let out was like music to your ears, low and heavy. Almost like some weight had been lifted off his shoulder and just that alone made you want to do more, to distract him from tonights loss and show him how great he was.
“Nothing I want more.” He murmured against your lips, fingers slipping into your joggers and underwear, slicking up his digits.
A shudder left your lips, hands gripping his shoulders and spreading your legs wider for him to properly settle between as he slowly fingered you. It was quick, thumb circling your clit just the way he knew you liked until you were coming apart under him.
He loved on your lower lip as you cried out your orgasm, eyes trained on your face because he just couldn't look away from how pretty you looked. It made him physically hurt how much love he had for you, how grateful he was that you managed to pick him up so easily when all he wanted to do was close in on himself.
No one had ever managed to simultaneously fill him up with so much love and inspiration like you did, and the adoration he felt for you in that moment felt like too much to bear. So, he hurried his movements when he felt you starting to shudder from overstimulation, reaching down to push his underwear far enough to get himself out of the confines.
"George, please." Your pleas made his hands shake as he slid the length of his cock up your pussy, wetting it in the process and hearing you moan. "Please, just hurry up and fuck me."
He didn't need to be told twice, notching himself by your hole and glancing up at you; waiting for your nod of consent before he pushed himself inside. The both of you moaned in unison, George's mouth dropping open at the combined feeling on your tightness and wetness, the warmth enveloping his cock as you reached your hands up to grab at his damp hair.
"Oh, fuck." He bottomed out, arms shaking to keep himself hovering over you. "Fuck, you feel good."
You pushed your chin out and George almost smiled at the gesture, knowing what you wanted without you having to verbally tell him. He got down on his elbows instead, caging your head in before he leaned down and licked into your mouth.
His thrusts were jerky, like he couldn't focus on one thing and you really couldn't blame him. It was clear that he needed the release and you desperately wanted to give it to him, clenching around him and hearing him moan against your ear; voice hoarse and broken.
It wasn't long before he was burying his face in your neck, hips working into you harshly before he grunted and buried himself to the hilt. George came with a bitten moan, shuddering as he shot off inside of you and it made you tighten up weakly, prompting another sound from his mouth.
The both of you laid wrapped up in each other, listening to each other's breathing and the silence dragged out for so long that you'd almost expected George to have fallen asleep. But then he made a noise in his throat and picked his head up from your chest to peer up at you.
He looked more relaxed than before, but there was still a sadness in his eyes that nothing but time could wipe away. You picked up a shaky hand to brush a finger under his eyes, watching his long eyelashes flutter at the touch.
"Japan will be yours." You said in a whisper, like it was a secret and it made George smile sadly.
"Don't hold your breath." He said it so self-depracatingly that you shook your head in a stubborn manner.
"I'll hold my breath, Russell. Better yet, I'll be right there to scream the loudest for you."
That prompted a laugh out of him, pushing into your hand when you swept his bangs out of the way.
"Thank you." He murmured and your face softened at the sincerity in his voice. "I don't know how you manage to do it, but you always make my losses hurt less."
"I'll always be here, you know that."
He nodded because yeah, you always were and you had never proved him wrong. It made something spark in his chest, something that felt a lot like hope and determination for the next weekend.
He'd bring the win home. If not for himself, then for you.
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sxcretricciardo · 9 months ago
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IN TIME
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Daniel Ricciardo x reader
"Danny, you need to come to terms that might be a possibility." You say. You're now almost 9 months pregnant with Daniel's baby. Your due date is next weekend, which is also the weekend of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, the last of Daniel's F1 season. The thought of not having your boyfriend of four years by your side in the most important day of both your lives terrifies you, but you came to terms that might be a strong possibility.
Daniel sighs and says "I know... Just the thought of it makes me nauseous." His eyes are fixed on the road in front of him as he drives.
"If it happens, it's gonna be okay, I promise you." You say, squeezing his free hand in reassurance.
"I just want to be there, that's all." He says.
"I know, love. I don't want anyone but you there too, believe me. But you have a good chance of coming third in the championship and I don't want you to give that away." You say, giving him a soft smile. You know Daniel has been working his ass off this season to be on that podium and it all comes down to this last race.
"Thank you for your support, sweets." He says, giving you a forced smile.
"We're not gonna overthink this, okay? If it happens next weekend, then it happens. If it doesn't, even better. She'll come when she's ready." You say, putting your hand on your belly.
"She's a daddy's girl, I know she'll wait." He says, smiling.
"Okay, yeah." You say and roll your eyes.
He laughs and continue the journey to the nearest McDonald's. Your baby girl has been craving a Big Mac for days now, and since Daniel came home for a couple of days, it's the best opportunity to finally eat one with your boyfriend.
-one week later-
Danny was right. Your due date was yesterday and your baby girl is still warm and cozy inside your belly. Daniel boarded the plane and is now in his way to the house. You are now sitting on the couch waiting for him, your hand is gently rubbing your belly.
You hear the door open and then close. Danny calls out to you and you tell him that you're in the living room. He comes in and sits on the couch right next to you, his head immediately falling gently on your belly, as he hugs you and your unborn daughter.
"Thank you for waiting, princess." He says, kissing your belly. He lifts his head and then kisses you on the lips.
"How are you feeling?" He asks.
"Just feeling a bit discomfort but besides that, I'm okay." You say, your hand going to his hair to massage it. You can only imagine your daughter having the same brown curly hair as Daniel.
After that, you guys have a nice dinner and get ready to go to bed. In the middle of the night, you start feeling some major pain and get up from the bed, trying to not wake up Daniel. You make your way to the kitchen and grab a cup of water.
You breath in heavily, after another wave of pain goes trough your body. Suddenly, you feel a warm rush spreading between your legas. You freeze, realizing that your water just broke. Panic mixes with excitement as you realize that the moment you've been waiting for is finally here.
"Danny?" You shout, so Danny could hear you from the kitchen. When you don't hear any movement or response, you shout again, a little bit louder. You hear a "What? Where are you?"
As you answer him, you hear running from the bedroom. Two seconds later, he's right in front of you, hair messy from the bed and his eyes adjusting to the light.
"What? Are you okay?" He asks, with panic in his voice.
"I think it's time." You say. Danny looks at you, up and down and then sees the water on the floor.
"Okay, okay, don't panic. We got this." He says and walks to you, helping you to the bedroom so you can change into a new pair for panties and pants. He grabs the hospital bags and guides you to the car.
As each contraction grips you, you sink into the passenger seat, clutching the handle tightly. Danny's hand rests on your shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze with every surge of pain. The world outside blurs as he speeds towards the hospital, each bump in the road jolting you further into the reality of labor. Despite the discomfort, there's a sense of unity in the confined space of the car, a shared anticipation of the life-changing moment awaiting you both at the end of this ride.
Stepping trough the hospital doors, a surge of nervous energy courses trough you, mingling with the intensity of each contraction. The familiar scent of antiseptic mixes with the sounds of bustling activity, signaling that our journey to meet our baby girl is entering the final stage. Leaning on Danny for support, you make your way to the labor and delivery unit, each step bringing you closer to the moment you've been waiting for.
After the nurses hook you to the machines and the doctor checks on you, the time seems to stop. Every minute that passes by feels like an eternity, because of the amount of pain you're in.
Danny whispers sweet things in your ear as he holds your hand. You squeeze it tightly as the contractions are getting closer and closer.
"I might break your hand." You joke, as you feel another contraction hitting.
He smiles and says "I love your capacity of making jokes trough something like this."
"It helps with the pain." You say and laugh.
When it's finally time to push, you surrender to the overwhelming power of your body, pushing with all of your strength as you feel your baby inching closer to the world. The room fades away, consumed by the raw intensity of the moment, as you focus all of your energy on bringing your baby into the world. Every fiber of your being strains with effort, yet there's a sense of calm within you. A calm that Danny always made you feel, even trough the hardest times. He's your rock, the calm to your storm, as cheesy it may sound.
Then, in an instant that stretches into eternity, you feel the release as your baby girl emerges, a rush of emotion flooding trough you as you hold your newborn daughter against your chest.
You start to let out tears of joy, as you look in the eyes of your baby. Danny cries into your neck and then kisses your head. When he finally holds her in his arms, he can't stop crying.
"She's beautiful." He says, looking at you. You smile at him.
And now, your family is complete.
-
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danielriciardo We are thrilled to announce the newest addition to our team: Beatrice Grace Ricciardo 🐣🩷 After 8 long hours of labor, our hearts raced with excitement as we welcomed our little champion into the world. yourusername you are such a brave and strong woman, thank you for making me the happiest man alive. I love you 🤍 #borntorace
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landonorris can’t wait to meet my favorite niece 🥹 already bought her so much papaya merch
-> yourusername she’s a Ferrari fan ❤️
-> scuderiaferrari our warmest welcome to our newest and youngest fan!
-> danielriciardo she’s my fan 🥺
maxverstappen1 congratulations 😘
visacashapprb a warm welcome to our youngest team member and congratulations 💗
georgerussell63 the cutest little princess, can’t wait to meet her 😊
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joi-me-hoi-me-noi · 10 months ago
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I can just imagine aizawa having a preg reader and she visits him and his class with eri
(after the overhaul incident)
Only to go in there and give aizawa his eye drop
(that he left at home)
and scold him and after that class 1-A just absolutely love you
(yes even bakugo)
and now when ever aizawa yells at the class, Mina or Denki call the reader and is just like “hey y/n aizawa is being mean again”
And in a flash your up at the school still heavily pregnant and scolding aizawa.
Sorry if this is too much I thought this was funny 😁 please ignore/delete if you don’t want to do this.
I'm so glad my requests are working again!! Thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy!!
AIZAWA x PREG!READER - FORGETFUL
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All Might spots you entering the building and knows what's about to happen. You walk down the hallway, pregnant and holding Eri's hand. You look utterly pissed off, no one dares to stop you. You can hear him teaching his students from behind the door. You pull the door open and eye your husband with a look that could kill.
"Sorry for interrupting your class, you forgot something at home."
You hold up the bottle of eyedrops between your fingers to show him. Eri goes over to the students and starts to talk to them, smiling and laughing.
"Thank you, precious." He places a kiss on your head and gives you a gentle smile.
"Shota, I thought you were staying home today; you've been through a lot."
He can't even find the words to tell you why he came into work.
"I know, sweetheart."
"You annoy me so much, if you forget again, I'll actually fight you in front of your students." His students were listening in now, looking right at you and then Aizawa for his response.
You harshly place the eyedrops on the podium in front of the class and look to Eri with a hand out.
"Come here, Eri." She says a quick goodbye to the students and runs over to grab your hand.
You smile down at the girl and exit the room.
After you exit the room, Aizawa lets out a breath he's been holding in. The students in the room have never seen Aizawa act like that before.
"I like your wife Aizawa, she's very nice." Midoriya says sheepishly.
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
You had your baby and now you work at UA with your husband. You were outside with them at the UA pool, watching them have fun and conversate. The boys are about to race using their quirks when your husband steps outside and activates his quirk, causing them to fall into the water.
"SHOTA!"
You send him a hard glare and he looks shaken to his core.
"Are you okay boys?" They give you a thumbs up as you let out a breath of relief.
You stand in front of Aizawa as the kids watch the interaction.
"What if they got hurt?!"
"They're fine love."
"Don't you 'love' me! If any of them got hurt because of your actions, I will drag you across the ground while they watch."
You look back at your kids and sigh.
"The pool's closed, time to go back to your dorms." They let out noises of disappointment but they listen.
You side eye your husband as he does the same. You walk past him with a scoff. Aizawa rubs the bridge of his nose as he sighs. His students look at him and then turn to each other.
"He messed up now."
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pensivepeach · 28 days ago
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imagine the one guy you absolutely can’t stand starts being a bitch to you on track again and then the said guy goes on to win the whole race with YOUR teammate on the podium and then he photobombs a picture of YOUR team who all cheer for him & he manages to take YOUR teammate for a very romantic dinner with his whole family….
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billskeis · 5 months ago
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hi can you do Tom smut where he is dating reader and she likes reading and he just like tells her to read for him while he is fucking her and she just like struggles to talk and he is just kinda chuckling and listening to her
˖ ࣪ ⟢ tom’s personal bookworm
lol haha hi so imagine tom kaulitz, considered the sexiest guitarist in germany right now as tokio hotel rises up to the top as rockstars with a bookworm reader. never really goes to their concerts because she enjoys her alone time but however will support from the other side of the screen as their concerts are constantly being streamed.
you were never the type to be upset about not being able to spend actual time with tom knowing his packed schedule, understanding and content with just being able to see him from afar.
reader loves book. and i mean, LOVES books. her whole room is filled with them. her parents were concerned for her every passing day because all she did was spend her allowance on books. not that they’re complaining because at the end of the day she was smart, humble, quiet. never really got herself into trouble since she would spend most of her days reading.
they’ve always wondered how she got a boyfriend that’s the total opposite of her.. mr popular who has thousands of girls just waiting for him to court them, is dating a nerdy nobody who only spends her free time reading? i guess you can say opposites really do attract.
tom now has been making more frequent visits to his girlfriend’s humble abode to catch her often stuck in a book that she’s been raving about the day before. rambling on how exciting it is to be able to start a fresh new book after just finishing one. it could only really take her a day to finish a thick novel that she had just purchased long ago, head in the clouds of true crime, thriller and fantasy. tom wishes his girlfriend would pay more attention to him now that he’s off tour and can finally spend time with her. ohoh, he’s jealous. jealous of a fucking book, or books, lol.
and all of a sudden, the new books that you have recently bought have been collecting dust, stuck on the same book for a week now.
tom had asked you to read out the dialogue between the main protagonist and the villain, sliding himself inside of you as he slowly fucks your soaking walls sitting on the ottoman stood at the end of your bed. “oh fuck, you’re tight.. ‘s been a while huh schatzi?” a firm grip on your ass as he holds your body upright, sitting in his lap as you hold a book in-front of you like a teacher standing at a podium. “t-tom, i can’t concentrate like this.”
“c’mon, read to me baby.” moving your hips up and down his length, slowly and agonizing, your cunt feels every inch and vein of his cock, the stretch just right as he presses kisses to your cervix with his tip.
you huffed in defeat, biting your lip before speaking, “a-and so.. you e-either—mmgh.. surrender to me or, o-or.. ah!” yelping as the curve of his dick presses against your velvety walls in a new angle, pleasure shooting through your body as legs threaten to shake. tom can only laugh at you, a throaty groan while he continues to move your body at a rhythm that satiates the both of you. he indulges in controlling how you ride him, a soft and pliable body made for him to fuck and distract her from what she loves the second most, him coming in first after all.
you hold onto your book for dear life, stuttering words as they struggle to fall off your lips, drool coming out more instead as you grind your hips on tom.
he silently watches you, watches how you fail to get a complete sentence out without choking on a moan or a whimper, chuckling as he is completely enamoured with your being. how pretty you are in his lap riding his cock as you attempt to fill out his request of storytelling one of your current reads.
but he listens. he listens as you break it down to him on how the superhero and the villain instead come to redeem themselves as lovers rather than enemies. and it’s quite sweet, isn’t it? how people on the opposite sides of the universe can just come together as one, quite ironic if you ask me. but he absolutely adores the way you read to him, even if it involves shoving his cock into your cunt, over, and over again.
as a hand holds your waist, he uses his other hand to rub your clit in front of him, your body jolts from the overstimulation as you leak onto his pelvic moan, juices spilling to seep onto the suede chair.
feeling overwhelmed, your book almost slips from your grasp as you wrap your arms around tom’s neck, complaining that it’s ‘too much’ and you ‘can’t take it,’ but he doesn’t listen, he can only press a kiss to your cheek and tell you “you’re doing good baby, just a few more pages mkay?” his hands massaging your waist as he bounces you on his cock. you swallow your words instead, incapable to recite the dialogue as you cried out in pleasure.
with a smirk plastered on his lips, tom takes the book from your hand and throws it to the bed behind you, he can’t risk in damaging your goods now! your struggle for speech was quickly replaced with the creak of the ottoman inside your bedroom, your back arching as your chest is now flush to tom’s clinging onto the body that bullies you as eyes roll back.
your head rests on tom as tears roll off your face and tongue lolls out onto his shoulder, you babble ‘sorries’ to tom, as you now realized that despite his time off, you prioritized the books you read 24/7 over your own boyfriend.
“s’okay.. i can—ugh, have my smart girlfriend all t’myself now, yea?”
so i didn’t proofread this lol >_<
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anyways , i’m off to disappear for another couple days (maybe)
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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago
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I can’t stop imagining a crack scenario of contestant reader and Host flirting with each other while the other contestants are all just dying horrifically in the background
"Hey there, Handsome."
"Handsome?" The show host chuckles, taking your hand - ghosting the curve of his smile over your knuckles. "That's a new one. I take it my favorite star missed me as well?"
"It's a little hard to when you call me back for every show.." Leaning in, you swirl a finger around his tie; watching as the monotonous gray hue bleds a soft red. "But I'd be lying if I said no. Is it just me, or do our little games get easier everytime? Call me crazy, but I don't asking me if I'm single and undoing as many buttons I can on my shirt before time runs out are broadcasting approved. You trying to get rid of me already?"
"You're a shining star in your own element. How's that old saying go?" Host lifts your hand overhead as he leads you from behind the podium, throwing it over his shoulder as he pulls you in. "Hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go."
You secure his tie around your hand - wrist bent from the momentum yank him forward, shut what little distance between you. "Lotta words just to say you like what I do behind closed doors. It's easy to detect your presence when you never leave. I do my best since there's always an audience, but sometimes I do wonder what sorta punishment I'd receive if I were too... underperform."
A hand slides from your spine to the back of your thigh, hiking your leg up to his hip. "I find the chance of that happening highly unlikely, but in the case that it did - I'd say some time tied up would be a sufficient penalty for an act like yourself."
"Hmm... So I wouldn't end like one of them?"
Peaking the madness, one of your fellow contestants sobs, drenching in water in a tank as the significant other they left to drown cries them a river. The one to your left is held captive by "peers", forcing them to eat every cent their family bribed teachers and law enforcement with. Host cups your jaw dragging your focus back to him where it so rightfully belongs as he purrs.
"Never~"
"Shame - I'm sure you'd love to see me soaking wet wouldn't you, Host?
"You know me so well... Point goes to you."
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lilghostiequinni · 6 months ago
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Sides
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Main Masterlist Max Masterlist
Pairing: Hamilton!female reader x Max Verstappen
Warnings: Fluffy at the end, Sad, Mean Lewis
Summary: Your boyfriend and brother have a standing rivalry, but what happens when your forced to choose
Requested: NO / yes
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You watch as your older brother cuts in front of your boyfriend in the last 5 laps of the race, and while you are in the Mercedes garage, you can imagine what your boyfriend is saying about your brother over
But it only gets worse as Max regains the lead over the race, strategically passing your brother, which wouldn't need investigation, and now you can only imagine what your brother is saying as you've opted out of headphones.
With a sigh as the race ends, you join Red Bull in celebrating your boyfriend's win in the race.
You give your brother a quick hug before going to Max.
"Congratulations, baby," You say, kissing the helmet he has yet to take off.
You send Max off after that to get on the podium and get his trophy..
You watch your boyfriend get his trophy and raise it above his head, same as your brother, for his ending in 2nd and Lando for his 3rd place ending.
The rivalry between your brother and your boyfriend only gets worse as the season goes on.
There are three races left in the season. You had sat in Red Bull, having been at Mercedes the week before, and been going between the two garages like a child of divorce, one week with one and the next week with the other.
Max is in the lead for the championship, with your brother a mere 5 points behind him in the running.
Your brother comes to you after the race ends and just starts ranting to you, having confided in you your whole life about everything and anything.
He starts getting into it about Max and putting him down when you say, "Enough; I get that I'm your confident about things in driving, but please, nothing about my boyfriend, please."
Lewis gets offended that you defended your boyfriend to him because he had raved about Max before you started dating and you never said anything, but instead of saying something, he just leaves you alone.
The next race, you are in Mercedes, only for your brother to come to you in anger.
"Why are you here? You clearly enjoy it in Red Bull."
"What the fuck, Lewis?" You are clearly shocked; it's visible on your face; you have been going between the two garages for the entire season and have been supportive of both your brother and boyfriend.
"I mean your with him right so why aren't you there?"
"Because I am supporting you this weekend?" You're confused about the sudden change of your brother.
"Well, maybe you shouldn't be going between the garages anymore, so choose Mercedes or Red Bull?"
You are honestly speechless, having no idea what to say as you don't want to choose.
"Him or me?" Your brother continues.
"If you are truly making me choose, think about it first." You tell your brother in a serious tone.
"I'm serious, him or me?"
"I'd choose him because he wouldn't make me choose like you are right now," You say to your brother. Many in the garage just look away like they weren't listening as Lewis walks away, leaving you with tears in your eyes.
You then leave Mercedes and go to Red Bull, where Max wasn't expecting to see you.
You just hug him as you make your way to him.
"He made me choose," You whimper into Max's chest.
"He made me pick a side." It's then you fully break down crying.
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A/N: This was originally going to be an oc, but changed my mind as I started to write it. Also, it's more of a drabble than a one-shot.
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