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#my last date was a year ago and it was so bad it made me swear off the apps. i have a stupid ass unattainable crush
borealopelta · 9 months
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sorry for going insane with the love post btw. my high school friends are in stable fun awesome fantastic relationships and i'm sitting through every get-together like. well! i have nothing to add to this conversation. and it's getting tiresome
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waffled0g · 1 year
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Everyone gets “The 90s” look wrong and I hate it
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Couple years ago I saw these two board games at the store back to back. Well, not saw them per se, but ya know. Spied them out of the corner of my eye. And for a moment without reading the text, I couldn’t tell you which was which decade at first. Funny. Either they were in a rush to get these out the door or they wanted their throwback trivia game boxes to look uniform. I didn’t think too much of it.
Only, from then on I started seeing it MORE. Every time someone markets a 90s or 80s throwback...
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Goddammit they’re identical! What??! How did we let this happen? As a 90s survivor and a designer, this drives me up a wall.
Look, I know I’m late to the party to complain about “the 90s look” when we’re just starting to get sick of the Y2K nostalgia train. But c’mon, the 90s were not The 80s: Part Two™ 
Trust me when I say that we weren’t all wearing neon trapezoids up until the year 2000. The 90s look being peddled is so specific to the tail end of the 80s and an early early part of the 90s - a part of the 90s when it wouldn’t stop being the 80s. This is Memphis design being conflated with the wrong decade.
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Keep reading for a long ass graphic design history lesson and pictures of old soda and fast food.
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Specifically, the look is Memphis Milano, self-named by the Italian design house Memphis Group. Starting in the early to mid 80s, they made all sorts of furniture, fabrics and sculptures that were like a Piet Mondrian grid painting under heavy radiation. Their whole deal was defying the standards of existing industrial design up to that point on purpose. Chairs had weird arches, bookcases would be in strange alien colors, unusual materials like plastic or elastic were used in place of metal or wood, that sorta thing.
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Memphis quickly became the signature look for the decade. You can tell something’s influenced by Memphis design from it’s telltale trademarks:
Clashing, neon colors.
Use of diametric shapes.
Contrasting patterns like zebra print stripes, confetti squiggles and checkerboards.
It wasn’t long before Memphis Milano-inspired design was everywhere in 80s pop culture:
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It was a special time, yes.
I was a kindergartener at the tail end of the 80s, so I knew Memphis mostly through the lens of kids media. Toys, clothes, games, tv shows used it like candy colored catnip. Cable channel Nickelodeon more or less adopted the Memphis aesthetic as their signature in-house style and practically built a monument to it at a Florida theme park:
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I think this is why folks mistake what decade Memphis is representative of - 90s staples like Nick, Saved By The Bell, Fresh Prince - they all stayed around much longer than the design trend’s expiration date. 
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Couple that notion with the fact that companies are slow followers to design trends. Something gets popular and they want to get on the bandwagon? Gotta wait for the ink to dry, gotta wait for the production molds to be made. It would take a few years for them to completely work Memphis outta their system.
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Now, this is not to say Memphis is bad! Personally I’m a fan of the aesthetic, if my neon-drenched artwork wasn’t a tip-off already. But it is a trend, and trends never last forever.
So what took the Memphis Milano look down for good? This part’s up for debate, but I personally think it had something to do with this dude:
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It’s that grunge music from Seattle that’s so popular with the kids these days dontchaknow.
Once Smells Like Teen Spirit hit in 1991, the Nirvana tone drove the rest of the decade. Clean geometry became weathered, grainy and organic. Bright neon pastels became more bold. Bubblegum pop music sounded fake and manufactured. Attitude and apathy was authentic. Whatever.
Things got grungy. Things got grimy. Olestra was invented.
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I think the best way to visualize this transition is how Cherry Coke entered the decade and how it left it:
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1992 Memphis on the left, 1998 grunge junkie on the right. Fitting that the 90s would end with a design that looked like Darth Maul’s lungs.
Okay, so what should 90s retro design look like?
Continue on to PART TWO! Spoilers: No VHS filters or vaporwave needed, but maybe bring an antacid.
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hurtblossom · 1 month
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When we grow old ln4
Pairing : Lando Norris x Female!reader
Summary: Interviewer asks you how you see your relationship in the future, and your answer leaves everyone speech less.
Warning: Fluff, people being disgustingly in love, bad english.
This is based of an interview i watched on tiktok, and on Kylie's and Travis's video on GQ
masterlist
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Lando and Y/N had been together for almost a year now. From the moment they met, it was as if the universe had aligned just for them. They spent nearly every moment they could together, whether at his apartment or hers. Y/N never missed a race, always there in the stands or watching anxiously from the paddock, her heart swelling with pride. She was his biggest supporter, not just on the track but in every aspect of his life.
For Y/N, Lando was everything she had ever dreamed of in a partner. She was convinced that he was her soulmate, the one she was meant to spend her life with. Nothing and no one could make her believe otherwise. Lando wasn’t shy about showing his love for her either. He spoke about her with a tenderness that made everyone around him smile. Whenever he had the chance to mention her, he did, his eyes lighting up with every word. He defended her fiercely whenever someone had something negative to say about her or their relationship. Y/N was deeply in love with him, and every day, she hoped that he felt the same way.
When Y/N received an invitation to join Lando for an interview, she was genuinely surprised. She wasn’t accustomed to the spotlight; her world had always been more private. Although she had social media, most of her followers were there because of Lando.
And so, she found herself seated in a chair across from him, a gentle hum of anticipation in the air. Someone adjusted the mic on her shirt, making sure her voice would be captured clearly. As she sat there, waiting for the cameras to start rolling, she stole a glance at Lando. He looked at her with that familiar warmth, the kind that made her feel like she was the only person in the room.
"Hey everyone, I’m Lando, and this is my girlfriend Y/N. We’re here with GQ, ready to answer some questions about our relationship," Lando began, his smile wide and genuine, the kind that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat.
“So, first question: how did we meet?” Y/N read aloud from a card she had been given before the interview. She looked at Lando, a playful glint in her eye. “Do you want to answer that?”
“Yeah.” Lando smiled softly at her, his gaze full of affection. “For those who don’t know, Y/N here is McLaren’s official Social Media Manager. She started working with the team about a year and a half ago, and yeah, I met her during her very first meeting with us, and we’ve been inseparable ever since.”
“That’s correct, Mister Norris,” Y/N said, her tone light but filled with pride. Lando raised his hand for a high five, and she gladly met it.
“Okay, my turn. What was our first date, and what was our last? And which one did you enjoy the most?” he asked, tossing the flashcard behind him with a playful grin.
“Our first date was when you took me out to an Italian restaurant. You dressed all fancy,” she laughed, her eyes sparkling at the memory. “And the last one was two days ago; we went to your yacht and just sat there, watching the sunset.” Her voice softened, a smile tugging at her lips. “I can’t pick which one I preferred; honestly, every moment with you feels like a blessing.”
Lando’s smile grew tender. “That’s really sweet, baby.”
“Okay, next question!” Y/N announced with a playful energy that made Lando chuckle. “What are three things you love and hate about each other?”
“Well, that one’s easy,” Lando replied instantly. “I love your smile, your eyes, and your laugh. They light up my world. As for the three things I hate… I’d have to say your impatience, how easily you get mad, and the fact that you hold grudges.”
“That was quick,” Y/N said, raising an amused eyebrow. “I guess it’s my turn. So, I love your determination—how you never give up on what you do, even when it seems impossible. I love that you have a big heart and wear it on your sleeve. And your eyes… you have the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen, and I could get lost in them forever. Now, for the things I hate: you tend to take things too personally, you can be just a tad too flirty, and… your sense of humor.”
“My sense of humor? What’s wrong with it?” he asked, feigning shock.
“You’re just not that funny, baby,” Y/N teased, shrugging playfully, her eyes twinkling with affection.
Lando laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, alright, I’ll work on my jokes.”
Y/N picked up the next flashcard. “Here’s a good one: What’s something surprising you’ve learned about me since we started dating?”
Lando paused for a moment, thinking. “Honestly, I think the most surprising thing I’ve learned is just how incredibly strong you are. I mean, I always knew you were tough, but seeing how you handle everything—whether it’s work stress, being in the public eye, or supporting me through all the ups and downs—has been amazing. You never let anything break you, and that’s something I admire so much.”
Y/N felt her heart swell with emotion. “Thank you, Lando. That means a lot coming from you.”
She cleared her throat, trying to keep her voice steady as she read the next question. “What’s your favorite memory of us together?”
“That’s a tough one,” Lando said, smiling as he reminisced. “But I think it would have to be that weekend we spent in the countryside, just the two of us. No cameras, no phones, no distractions—just us. We went hiking, had a picnic by the lake, and at night, we watched the stars. It was simple, but it was perfect. It was one of those moments where I just felt… complete.”
Y/N nodded, her eyes misty with tears. “I remember that weekend. It was beautiful.”
Lando reached out, taking her hand in his. “We should do that more often—just escape from everything and be together.”
“Definitely,” Y/N agreed, squeezing his hand. “Okay, here’s the next question: What’s something you wish we could do together in the future?”
Lando thought for a moment before answering. “I’d love for us to travel more, see the world together. There are so many places I want to explore with you, and I think it would be amazing to share those experiences. But more than that, I just want us to keep building a life together, no matter where we go.”
Y/N smiled softly. “That sounds perfect.”
“Alright, last question,” Lando said, his tone growing more serious. “And this one’s just for you, Y/N: how do you see this relationship evolving?”
Y/N took a deep breath, her heart beating a little faster as she thought about the future. “Oh, that’s a hard one. How do I see this relationship evolving? Well, first of all, I’d like for us to stay together, to grow old… without sounding like a complete psycho,” she began, her voice wavering slightly with emotion.
“You’re fine; go on,” he encouraged her, his eyes never leaving hers, filled with a deep, unwavering love.
“If one day we end up on different paths—and I really hope that never happens, because seriously, you’re everything to me—I know I won’t want anyone else,” she said, her voice soft but sincere. “But if life does pull us apart, I don’t want us to hate each other or lose all the good memories we made. I want you to remember me with a smile, and I’ll always wish you the best, because I’d never want anything bad for you. You’re my first real love, Lando, and what we have is something I know I’ll never feel with anyone else.”
She paused for a moment, her heart racing as she took a deep breath. “So, with that said,” she added with a little laugh, “let’s just agree to never break up, okay? Because honestly, that would be super awkward and totally heartbreaking for both of us.”
Her words hung in the air, filled with the raw, honest emotion of young love, and Lando couldn’t help but smile at her attempt to lighten the mood, even though he knew how deeply she meant every word.
He was quiet for a moment, letting her words sink in. He looked at Y/N, his eyes filled with love and something deeper—determination.
“GQ, I think we’re done here,” Lando finally said, his voice steady but with a clear edge of emotion. “Because what I have to say now, I want her to know it’s real.”
He turned to Y/N, taking her hands in his as if grounding himself in the moment. “You’ve always been the one for me, Y/N. From the very beginning, I knew there was something about you that I couldn’t let go of, and that hasn’t changed. Hearing you talk about different paths… it scares me, because I don’t want to imagine my life without you in it.”
He paused, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of her hand. “But I need you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I’m not just in love with you; I’m committed to us. I’m committed to making sure that we keep growing together, facing whatever life throws our way. I can’t promise that everything will be perfect, but I can promise that I’ll always fight for us.”
Lando’s voice softened, his gaze never leaving hers. “You’re my first love, Y/N, and I want you to be my last. I want to share every moment, every milestone, and every challenge with you. I want us to look back one day, gray and wrinkled, and say, ‘We did this together.’ Because you’re it for me. You always have been, and you always will be.”
He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, letting the moment linger. When he pulled back, there was a quiet intensity in his eyes, a promise unspoken but deeply felt.
“So let’s stop worrying about different paths,” he whispered, “and focus on the one we’re on, together. Because I’m not letting go, not now, not ever.”
the end
plot twist : he cheated, so they broke up... men 🍵 (jk😞)
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fatuismooches · 9 months
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Could you please write about the Harbingers spending time with the reader on their birthdays? But maybe they send what they did with you as a letter to the Traveler like the in-game feature? :D
♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬' 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡
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synopsis: The Traveler naturally expects mail in their inbox whenever the Harbingers' birthdays roll around. However, they didn't expect it to be so... lovey-dovey, and all about you.
includes: all harbingers w/ gn! reader
notes: I've finally finished it! I've been wanting to write something similar to my voice line post for a while, so here it is - the Harbingers sending birthday mail, except they're very down bad for you :3 Includes a letter, a photograph, and attached items with the letter! (Sorry to the Pulcinella fans, I was too lazy to write him in.)
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“Home…”
Sender: Pierro
It is my birthday today. Normally, I would have continued on my day as usual, but [Name] had another idea in mind, going so far as to get the Tsaritsa herself to block the door to my office and then dragging me away. It seems they were planning this for a while… The last birthday I celebrated was the year Khaenri’ah fell. What purpose did today serve when my homeland and people were gone? As the years went on, it began to slip my mind and I nearly would have forgotten the date, were it not for [Name]’s question a while ago. I thought nothing of it, but I did not think [Name] would have taken this so seriously.
They knew I would enjoy anything so long as it was with them, yet they had the entire day planned out. Claiming that I needed some fresh air, we walked through the Snezhnayan streets, the normally biting frost a bit warmer than usual. Casual browsing at some new stores that opened up. [Name]’s attempt at starting a snowball fight. And lastly… grocery shopping.
When we got back, they wouldn’t let me help or look. But I could tell from the smell exactly what they were making. It turns out that they managed to make a dish from my home country. I am not sure how they managed to get a hold of this recipe… I must have mentioned it offhandedly and they improvised from there. Of course, it’s not an exact replica, but nonetheless, it tasted delicious. Just for a few minutes, I was taken back to my previous home. That home will never come back, but I have a new one now.
And now the day is almost over. Despite their best efforts to stay awake until the end of the day, they succumbed to their sleepiness, now lying on my lap. They were supposed to read me something they made, but perhaps I’ll find out what that was tomorrow. 
Tomorrow will be back to normal again. But that is alright. I still do not believe I deserve a day like today but, if this is what [Name] desires, then I shall not refuse them again. I’ll look forward to the next birthday just as they do.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Pierro and you in it. The Harbinger is seated at a table with a homemade dish in front of him. His giant coat and mask are placed off to the side, revealing scars from long ago. You’re glued to his side, trying to feed him by holding the spoon close to his mouth. Pierro is a grown man, the Traveler thinks, he does not need you to feed him… However, he looks quite content with this arrangement so the blonde won’t question it any further. In fact, he looks as if he’s right at home.
Attached Items:
Ancient Khaenri’ahn Dish [A meal unique to Khaneri’ah that has long been forgotten by the world. Although you clearly struggled to make it due to a lack of experience, even the Traveler can taste how much of your love was put into it.]
Khaenri’ahn Story Book [A book that contains numerous fairy tales and various stories originating from the lost nation, written by none other than Pierro himself, and illustrated by you. Apparently, it was born from you begging him to tell you stories from his home, and eventually, the Harbinger began to write them down so you could read them instead of bothering him so often. However, it made the problem worse as now you bother him to read them to you. How sweet.]
“A Day Off.”
Sender: Dottore
[Name] has convinced me to go back to Sumeru with them for a couple of days. I couldn’t care less about this day, but they were adamant about spending the whole day with me, and that they “will not be spending my birthday in a dark gloomy lab again.” 
My research has regrettably halted for a bit, but I suppose this was not a bad idea. This was the first time in many years that either of us had stepped foot back into Sumeru - we had not been back since I was expelled from the Akademiya, besides my segments of course.
[Name] and I trekked the same path we used to walk during our studies at the Akademiya. It was a good spot for studying and conducting experiments without any disturbances - that was until they started following me around. They were a nuisance at first… but eventually, [Name] began to help me deconstruct a variety of machines, which was helpful. And then would laugh at me whenever I ended up breaking them. 
Ever since I met them, [Name] has always said a lot of strange things, but their most recent comment was that they wanted to drink the blue liquid in the vial I carry around. They think it looks… tropical and vibrant. Of course, I refused them. But I had a feeling that if I didn’t provide them with it, they’d try and get it themselves. I was not interested in having to inject an antidote into them, so I came up with a solution.
I know that I am no chef, but this goes outside the realm of cooking. It wasn’t hard to create a sweet drink that would be to [Name]’s liking with the same color. They were more pleased than I thought and demanded that I make it for them more often. I do not care much for nourishment, but perhaps I’ll try my hand at it more often. They have insisted that I send you some, too. So, Traveler, is it to your liking as well? Even if it’s not, I do not care, so don’t bother telling me.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Dottore and you in it. Despite how much the Traveler has explored Sumeru, they can’t seem to pinpoint the location where it was taken. It must really be a secret place, just for the two of you. Dottore’s mask is on his lap, revealing crimson eyes and scarred skin. You seem to have fallen asleep on his shoulder, as your eyes are closed, though your mouth seems to be agape, perhaps mumbling some nonsense in your sleep. Dottore’s expression is exasperated, but there is a certain fondness in his eyes, one that the Traveler can’t distinguish, or rather, they refuse to believe it. Did the Kamera have an editing function now? Because surely, the photograph must have been forged or something, because there was no way The Doctor could ever have such a tender look in his eyes… 
Attached Items:
Strange Blue Concoction [Some kind of legitimate drink that’s the same color as the vial Dottore carries around. According to [Name], it is quite delicious, but would any sane person dare to try anything from The Doctor of all people…? Who knows, these two might be trying to poison the blonde.]
Assortment of Ruin Guard Parts [Parts from Ruin Guards Dottore created and assembled himself. A wide variety of parts are here, including Chaos Cores, Circuits, and Devices. Wait… they seem to all be damaged and broken. Hey, did Dottore just send the Traveler his useless parts?!]
“Care For A Show?” 
Sender: Columbina
Hello dear Traveler! How are you?~ Today has been such a wonderful day. Why, you ask? Because it’s my birthday of course! ♪ The one day when I have the ability to drag my beloved [Name] wherever I want, with no resistance. Normally they protest for quite a bit, telling me I have a mountain of work to do but, they don’t need to worry their pretty little head about that. ♫ Is it that much of a crime to slack off to spend time with one’s beloved? But oh, that little routine of ours is something that I do cherish.
My dearest [Name] took me to a play. We were among the first to see it, as it was the opening day. You know, they always tell me that as a Harbinger, I should be more conscious of how I present myself. But is it really a problem to sit in their lap instead of my chair? It’s not like anyone can see us all the way up on the balcony seats, hmm? ♬ Moving on though~ The play was quite an interesting story. 
It was of an angel who fell in love with a mere human, despite how taboo it was. When the two were caught, the angel had to decide - would she rather retain their purity and remain in the heavens or fall down, stripped of her divinity to be with her human? Well, if you want to see the ending, you’ll just have to come to Snezhnaya and watch it yourself. ♪ But do tell me Traveler, if you were in a situation like that, what would you choose? … I already know what my choice would be.
Ah, but that show was not even the best part! After that, [Name] put on their own performance for me, just the two of us. It was beautiful of course, the way they convey their choice of art is always worthy of praise. But, they always seem to seek my feedback and criticism… they told me they want to keep improving to make me even more pleased but, how many times do I need to explain to them that I already believe their craft is beautiful? Nevertheless, I do indulge them, if only to satisfy my love. Why don’t you take a look at one of our collaborations, Traveler? It is quite good if I do say so myself. ♫
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Columbina and you in it. The lighting in the theater is a bit dim, so your figures are a bit faded but, the Traveler can still make out the two of you. The two of you have separate chairs but, Columbina is practically spilling onto yours, her head comfortably resting against your chest. You seem as though this is normal for you, which it probably is. Wait, is Columbina sleeping? It seems she probably got bored during the intermission… That’s why you specifically chose your clothes to double as a blanket for your wife.
Attached Items:
Music Score [A music score composed by both you and Columbina. The two of you performed it perfectly together as a present to your wife. Of course, it’s bound to be mesmerizing considering Columbina’s participation. So hauntingly beautiful, that in fact, it might end your life before you get to the end… is that an exaggeration? Well, it seems like the Traveler will have to take that risk.]
Pair of Tickets [Tickets gifted to the Traveler and Paimon. There’s no name on it or any expiration date, so it can be used to watch a single play in Snezhnaya for free, with the best seats in-house, so pick carefully. These things are quite expensive, so don’t go losing them now! Otherwise, Columbina and [Name] might ban the traveling duo from the theater…]
“An Excellent Day.”
Sender: Capitano
Today is my birthday. However, I have never been very adept at celebrating this day. I realize that it is the norm to celebrate one’s birthday, but I have never felt the need to. Though, ever since I became a Harbinger, my recruits have always wished me well today. Unfortunately, when the bolder ones ask me what I have planned, I have nothing interesting to respond with, always prompting them to urge me to do something… In the hallways, I always hear conversations along the lines of even though being a Harbinger is busy, I deserve to do something nice on my birthday. But in reality, it does not bother me at all. Is it really that strange not to do anything on one’s birthday?
When [Name] found out how I normally spend my birthdays, they shared a similar sentiment and promised to make this one “the most eventful and fun and best one I’ve ever had.” They said that since this is our first year together, they need to make my birthday an excellent one. Although I tried to reassure them they needn’t try so hard for me, they were insistent. However, true to their word, I would say my birthday did end up being an excellent one.
One thing about [Name] is they never fail to teach me something new. In this case, they taught me what it means to celebrate a birthday, and I’d say I learned a lot. As stated by them, there is no exact or definite way to celebrate. It is what you make of it. And they, knowing the kind of man I was, chose the activities accordingly. (There were a few mishaps but everything went well for the most part. It is not customary to break a few knives while cutting cake, so I feared that I may have ruined things, but [Name] reassured me it was normal.)
So all in all, today was an excellent day. However, I am faced with a problem now. What should I do when [Name]’s birthday comes? Should I do the same thing they did for me? But would they think that is low effort and unoriginal? I do not wish to disappoint them. Traveler, do you have any ideas? Also, please ask Tartaglia for me as well. The last time I spoke to him, he tried to ask me for a duel.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Capitano and you in it. The snowy forest terrain looks as picturesque as ever, but what really draws attention is the man and his lover in the middle. Mostly, the Harbinger who has a squirrel or two perched on him, not to mention the few birds that made their nest in the fluff of his coat. And even some cats? Where did they come from?! Well, it’s best not to question it. It’s rather endearing. Rather, one should question how silent and unmoving the Captain is in an effort to not disturb all the animals. Just ignore the deer in the background waiting for some attention too.
Attached Items:
How To Celebrate Your Birthday Pamphlet [A collaboration between Capitano’s Fan Club and [Name]. The fan club loves you immensely because you help to put their long-awaited plans into action. The numerous activities in this guide (blowing out the candles, feeding each other cake, gift giving, lots of affection, etc) were written out by the club and dutifully carried out by you. There were also birthday punches, but Capitano was confused as to why you were tickling him.]
Capitano and [Name]’s Picture Book [Don’t tell anyone this, but Capitano has a tendency to name all the creatures of the forest near his mansion. At first, he went there to train, but decided against it after seeing all the animals around there, because he doesn’t want to scare them away. What he did not expect was to befriend all of them… you came across him one day talking to them after searching for him. How can he tell them apart? Even you don’t know. But this book is dedicated to all of his animal friends, with pictures taken by you of course. So if the Traveler happens to visit Snezhnaya someday, make sure to be nice to these little guys!]
“They’re Annoying…”
Sender: Wanderer
It is that time of year again when my birthday rolls around. You know very well I do not care much for this day, but once again, there are always annoyances at my every turn… Both Lesser Lord Kusanali and [Name] always prove to be a thorn in my side on this day. In the past, I usually spent my birthdays under the sakura trees in Inazuma, visiting [Name]. But, things have changed now. I no longer am who I once was, and my relationship with [Name] is no longer the same. They have forgotten me, and our past together… but Lesser Lord Kusanali has forced us to interact again numerous times, leading to our current relationship. Lesser Lord Kusanali always pats my back, saying that time will lead us back to each other… how irritating. 
Speaking of her being irritating, she decided to tell [Name] that today was my birthday, a horrible decision. Now, they’ve run all over Sumeru looking for me, until they finally found me in the House of Daena. Panting and gasping for air, all I could hear was them sincerely apologizing over and over for not knowing my birthday. They promised they’d get me a late birthday gift, even though I kept repeating that it was unnecessary. Unfortunately, it has always been hard to get things through their thick skull. All I know for sure is that Lesser Lord Kusanali definitely planned this and that she will tease me to no end the next time I see her… 
Still, they dragged me through Sumeru City. According to them, they knew I wouldn’t like anything too fancy, so they brought me to an alleyway. Your typical textbook dark and narrow one. And at the end were… cats. Many of them. [Name] turned to me with a smile and said they bet I didn’t know about this secret kitty haven, and that it was a perfect gift for someone like me. I do wonder if Sumeru’s sun has made them crazy sometimes.
But, this birthday wasn’t as boring as I thought it’d be. So… that’s nice, I guess. Actually, Lesser Lord Kusanali had assigned me a paper to write. A paper on [Name], on my own birthday. She said that she wasn’t going to read or check it, but it was for my sake. How preposterous, right? How would anything like that help me?
But tonight… I feel as though I’ll make some progress on it.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Wanderer and you in it. The puppet is at the top of the ladder in the House of Daena, searching for books (most likely forced to by the Dendro Archon), but your figure can be made out at the bottom. You seem to be waving and beckoning him to come down, so he can have a good time with you for his birthday. Wanderer doesn’t seem very excited about it, but… he will always indulge you, the person he can’t deny he loves. Hmm? Why is he using a ladder instead of his Anemo powers? Well, perhaps the puppet doesn’t like drawing attention to himself.
Attached Items:
Essay Concerning Inazuman Society and Politics [An essay Wanderer has written during his time spent in Vahumana. What, did the Traveler really think he’d send the essay he wrote about [Name]? However, Paimon couldn’t make it through the title page, and even the Traveler struggled through it. But, it seems to be your favorite essay of his, considering all the notes you made in it, not to mention the noodles you drew when you got bored… Wanderer probably scolded you for that but, it’s never in bad faith.]
Tricolor Dango [A plate of dango that [Name] brought for Wanderer as a treat. It seems that they are unaware of his dislike of sweet food… But the puppet did not want to hurt their feelings considering the thought and effort they put into his birthday, so he did not decline it.]
“A Lavish Tea Party.”
Sender: Sandrone
Unbeknownst to me, [Name] recently had a variety of sweets from Fontaine imported. It seemed like they tinkered with my bots once again, to get them on their side so I would remain in the dark… they can be such a hassle to deal with sometimes. However, this means that their skills are ever improving, as I’ve been improving my Automatons to be much more complex. As expected of my assistant. Speaking of, they’ve also imported some other things that I’ve been wanting for a while. Hopefully, they’re up to standard this time, or they’ll have to be returned. Ugh, I hate dealing with the Ninth whenever that happens…
Though back to the subject, it seems that [Name] has once again needlessly gone out of their way, since today is my date of birth. Although I don’t like being distracted from my research, and I see no need to waste time just because I happened to be born today, this break that [Name] has prepared for me isn’t too bad. I have not attended a proper tea party in far too long. The fools I have for agents can never set it up correctly.
[Name] is not someone who dresses up very often, but they always make the effort to match their attire with mine. Something that other people should learn from, but alas. Though, I wish they did it more often. Not even the most well-crafted doll could match their beauty. Have I told them that? No, they should be smart enough to figure that out by themselves.
Regardless, I must cut this letter short. After this, I want to work on an Automaton with [Name]. I have held off on it because they have expressed interest in it, and since we are together now, it is the perfect time to work on it. I was expecting them to get huffy at me working today, but it seems that they are pleased to work with me. I wonder why.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Sandrone and you in it. A wide array of treats and sweets are plated on numerous platters, along with ceramic tea cups waiting to be filled with piping hot tea. The surrounding robots are also fashioned in a similar style as her, perfect attire for the tea party, holding additional trays of desserts. (Can these robots eat too?) You’re pouring your wife her favorite kind of tea as you’ve already set her plate, while she sits patiently with her hands folded. Despite Sandrone’s doll-like features, one can see a small smile on her face.
Attached Items:
Instructions For A Perfect Tea Party [Sandrone’s set of instructions as to how a perfect tea party is conducted. Some of the rules seem nonsensical and impossible to many, which is why no Fatui agent can ever live up to the Harbinger’s expectations, as she will not accept anything less than what she desires. However, you are the only person who has managed to fulfill all the rules to a tee, which is one of the reasons she greatly favors you. Sending this list to the Traveler and Paimon is also her way of saying they are never invited as they will never be able to fulfill the rules in a way that satisfies her… how rude!]
Clockwork Toy of Sandrone [A Harbinger toy from Leschots Clockwork Workshop in Fontaine. They seem to have dabbled in making toys of the Harbingers as they said they would, and who better to start with than the machinery genius herself? Of course, Sandrone can point out numerous flaws with the design and components, and probably criticized it heavily to you, but you still seem to love it, because it’s of her! Unfortunately, your wife doesn’t like that very much… why settle for something inferior when you could have it in much higher quality? So the Harbinger decided to make a toy of herself that lives up to her standard. The Traveler can have the faulty one…]
“Another Year Passes…”
Sender: La Signora
In the past, I used to be quite fond of birthdays. In Mondstadt, I would always celebrate it with him every year. But after he died, birthdays left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I never dared think about doing anything on this day ever again. How could I, when he was no longer by my side? But today is my birthday again, and I find myself happy. Why? Because of [Name], the person who taught me how to love again. Admittedly, I pushed away the idea at first. But after some more reflection, I decided it wouldn’t be fair to [Name]. The past is the past, and the present is the present. If [Name] wants to make me feel special on my birthday, then who am I to stop them?
And indeed they did pamper me. They always pamper me but, today it was much more than normal. Breakfast in bed, massages, hair brushing, helping me put on my clothes, opening doors for me, fancy dinner and wine after work. I don’t think there was a single moment where they weren’t trying to do something for me. It gave me a good chuckle, which made them embarrassed. But truly, it made me happy. I had… forgotten what it feels like to be cared for on my birthday. It’s a foreign feeling but, I hope that the foreignness eventually goes away after some time.
However, I must tell them that there’s no need to overexert themselves just because it is my birthday. Although I do enjoy the extra treatment, it does neither of us any good for them to fall asleep before the night is even over. But, that’s okay. There is always next year, yes?
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Signora and you in it. You are fast asleep on the Fair Lady’s lap, a peaceful expression on your face. A similar one is on Signora’s, as there is no one else around, and she can let her guard down around you. There are a few of her flame moths scattered around the room as well, a few on the two of you. As her blonde hair spills onto your face and body, one can only guess what she is thinking.
Attached Items:
Tea Break Pancakes [Despite Signora’s history with her home nation, it’s said that she still enjoys the cuisine from there. So, you like to cook her food from there whenever you can. It might not be as good as a professional’s but it provides her a taste of home. A taste of your love, which is her favorite flavor.]
Rose [It’s no secret that roses are Signora’s favorite flower. Beautiful yet thorny, alluring yet dangerous. There are many kinds of roses with all sorts of meanings in this world, but you two have been seen exchanging only one kind - a red one. Whatever could it mean?]
“Birthdays…”
Sender: Pantalone
When I was a child, birthdays did not mean much to me. After all, how could one focus on their date of birth when it seemed like life was full of nothing but curses and suffering? It was only another day of working to survive. But when I met [Name], they changed that. With them, the day began to have… meaning. Purpose. It wasn’t anything grand, but they made it special, distracting me from another day of poverty. Even with their meager earnings, they never failed to gift me something, even if it was of little to no value, or not the best quality… I cherished it. No one else had ever thought of me so much. When I look back, every time my birthday came around again, my love for them only grew more.
Now that we are adults, my only wish is to repay their kindness and spoil them with as many gifts as they deserve. However, there are a few issues with this. There are times I find myself more disappointed with the world than usual because it has yet to create something that would be a suitable gift that would be on par with my love for my dear [Name]. However, whenever my spouse gifts me something, their thoughtfulness never ceases to amaze me. How is it that they always manage to gift me something wonderful and touching? When I questioned them about this, they raised an eyebrow and gave me a strange look. It seems that I will not learn their secret anytime soon. How unfortunate.
Not to mention, dearest [Name] gets upset when I spend “ludicrous amounts of money” (their words) on them, especially on my birthday, so they’ve “forbidden” me from doing so today. They are rather persistent on this, and their long lectures and expressions are rather amusing, so I’ll indulge them… for now. Do you think they realize I’ll just spend double the amount the next day? Regardless, birthdays are always well spent with [Name], and I plan to enjoy this one fully, just as I have in the past because they are the one who makes my birthday a day worth celebrating.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Pantalone and you in it. The two of you are taking a walk in Snezhnaya, browsing stores and the like. Even though it is Pantalone’s birthday, he seems insistent on trying to buy out a few stores for you once again… so in order to prevent him from doing that, you’ve hidden yourself in his coat, stopping him from walking properly. The Harbinger seems rather entertained by your antics and your head popping out of his coat… he should make you do this more often. It’s perfect for head pats.
Attached Items:
Pantalone’s Spare Change [As it is his birthday, Pantalone is feeling more generous than usual, so he is sending a bit of funds to the Traveler. There is no need for any repayment, take it as a symbol of the Fatui’s goodwill. (However, it would do good to proceed with caution… this is the Ninth, after all.) Opening it up, the duo expects to see an average amount of money, but instead are presented with a couple of million Mora… if this is what Pantalone is willing to send to the Traveler, how much does he spend on [Name]?! Paimon doesn’t want to imagine the number!]
[Name]’s Guide to Gift Giving [A piece written by you to detail how you always choose the best gift for Pantalone, unbeknownst to your husband. Opening it up, the Traveler is very curious as to how you manage to win over the Harbinger every time, a man who has everything he could possibly want at his fingertips. But instead, only one sentence is written on the paper - “I don’t know how I do it either.”]
“Appreciation.”
Sender: Arlecchino
Birthdays were not very much celebrated in the House of Hearth, especially when the former Knave was around. However, that changed when [Name] came along. Years ago, I still remember when they gifted Lynette her first tea cup set. Freminet, a collection of spare parts that he ended up using to make another clockwork toy. And probably the biggest hassle… gifting little Lyney a white rabbit. However, I do appreciate my lover’s efforts. The children always look forward to their birthdays much more now, some even going as far as to drop hints about their desired gift and give puppy eyes to [Name] when the time rolls around. I have to remind my children not to get greedy, and to be grateful for what they already have…
I also remember the first birthday they gifted me something as well. A part of me expected it, considering the way they behaved, but still, it was an… unfamiliar feeling, to be gifted something. And, it was also the day little Lyney and Lynette presented their first amateur magic show to me. Of course, they had much to improve on, but looking back it was a suitable birthday gift, considering how much I’ve seen the two grow now. Needless to say, I appreciate [Name] very much, for what they have given me and my children.
My birthday has come once more, and [Name] is celebrating it as they always feel the need to. Really, even if they did nothing, I would still appreciate it, considering all they’ve done. The sweets they gathered this time were exceptional, and we had a lovely chat, before taking a walk through Fontaine. They say that the flowers that grow in the wild are always the prettiest, especially the Rainbow Roses.
Ah, last of all, if you could do me a favor, that would be greatly appreciated. You have been in Fontaine for a while now, yes? It would be a great help to me if you could point me to some good operas. [Name] and I have watched many in Snezhnaya, however, we don’t often have the chance to watch any in Fontaine, with our work and all. Thank you. And please, do not bore me or waste my time.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Arlecchino and you in it. You two are sitting in a field in Fontaine somewhere, with Rainbow Roses to the side. One of them has been tucked into the Harbinger’s hair, while you seem to be focusing on creating… a flower crown? Despite the pinkness of the rose greatly contrasting with Arlecchino’s whole dark red, black, and white look, she seems to not mind your antics and waits patiently for you to complete your work of art. Of course, as a Fontainian, she knows very well what Rainbow Roses symbolize, and won’t turn down the physical manifestation of your feelings.
Attached Items:
List of Yummy Hidden Gems [A list of great places to buy sweets from in Fontaine, courtesy of [Name], passed on by Arlecchino. Sure, Hotel Debord and Café Lutece do have some excellent sweets, but there are many hidden restaurants and bakeries that provide delicious treats as well! Do stop by and give them a try. Arlecchino favors many of their products. If one needs a similar list for the other nations, do tell.]
Slice of Birthday Cake [An exquisite slice of cake cut from Arlecchino’s birthday cake. She doesn’t care much for the tradition, but [Name] always buys one anyway as an excuse to treat the children from the House to something nice. You know you shouldn’t spoil them so much, but you can’t help it!]
“Splash!”
Sender: Tartaglia
Hey comrade! How have you been? Sorry if my handwriting isn’t the best. I sparred with [Name] for my birthday, and they really roughed me up. Not that I mind, I asked them to go all out. Normally they don’t like fighting with me, because they always insist they don’t like hurting me, but they couldn’t say no to me today. You know, I would like to see the two of you fight. It would be an exhilarating experience.
But anyway, after they patched me up, we took a dive in Fontaine’s waters! You know, whenever I visit Liyue, we often go to cool off in Yaoguang Shoal, but Fontaine’s oceans are so much different. The scenery, the terrain, the greenery, the wildlife… good thing I bought them a waterproof Kamera. Speaking of wildlife, [Name] and I befriended a blubberbeast. [Name] instantly fell in love with the creature, and I feel as though they gave a bit too much attention to it, but, seeing them smile is the best gift I could ever ask for. Maybe I should gift them a plushie of it? However, it is a bit amusing that something that looks as defenseless as that could pack such a punch!
Did you know this, Traveler? Apparently, Romaritime Flowers represent loyalty. [Name] gifted me a bouquet which I was initially confused about since I usually give them flowers instead. But after some quick research, these flowers mean unbreaking oaths. It was a bit ironic really, for I should have gifted them instead as I always swore to be loyal to them, my family, and the Tsaritsa, but it was a wonderful gift. Not to mention the delicious meal they prepared. They’ve been busy researching the best Fontaine recipes for me, so I could make them for Teucer and the others back home, but maybe I should just drag them to Snezhnaya so they could do it instead… I never leave anything but empty plates whenever [Name] cooks for me, but they’ve packaged some for you too, Traveler!
Next time we fight at the Golden House, I’ll bring [Name] along too. Do you think you can hold your own against both of us at the same time?
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Childe and you in it. You two are under the sea, with a Blubberbeast between the two of you. The creature is nudging you while Childe looks on amused. It seems that it’s been begging for some more attention, food, and head pats. Maybe some tummy rubs too. Apparently, you named it Big Cutie, because well… it’s a big cutie! Unfortunately, it seems to have a little bit of a grudge against the Harbinger because he accidentally attacked it.
Attached Items:
[Name]’s Special Macarons [Rainbow Macarons but with a special twist from [Name]. On the top and bottom of the sweet treat are… faces? Very detailed ones too, with colored hair and eyes! Ah, the faces are none other than [Name], Childe, Teucer, and all of his other siblings! Oh, and macarons of Traveler and Paimon were made as well, how kind! Childe says they’re quite delicious, and he is a great cook, so they must be.]
Freshly Caught Fish [Fish caught by Childe. It seems that the two lovers also went fishing after diving a bit, as one knows how much Childe loves to fish. Sadly, your fishing skills still pale in comparison compared to his and you barely caught anything… That’s alright though! No matter how long it takes, he’ll always happily help you hone your skills!]
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rowanhoney · 1 year
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papercorgiworld · 9 months
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Apologies and love confessions
The Slytherins guy’s are jealous because you have a date. When your date flops, they show up: to make up or make out, or both…
General story introduction and then you pick your favourite Slytherin. Or all of them, I won’t judge.
Theo, Blaise, Enzo, Draco and Mattheo.
Warning: a little bit of smut bc of Enzo and Mattheo ofc.
Not proofread, so if a sentence hurts your brain, my apologies. Let me know and safe an innocent reader.
After months of not writing, I present you… whatever this is.
You took one last look in the mirror and turned to your friends, Pansy and Hermione. “Acceptable?” You asked sheepishly. “More than acceptable.” Hermione smiled. “Hot.” Pansy bluntly stated.
It was a late Saturday afternoon as you made your way to the great hall to meet your date. A few days ago, Neal - a Ravenclaw one year older than you - had asked you out. You hadn’t talked much but all of your friends liked him and he wasn’t bad looking. As you almost reached the great hall you ran into the notorious Slytherin boys. When you spotted them you wanted to turn on your heels, but Enzo already called for you. “Y/n, you’re looking fine.” He slurred the last word a bit as he looked you up and down. Your cheeks went red as all the guys stared. “Ah, your date’s today, right?” Blaise asked nonchalantly. You nodded, getting a little nervous. “What was his name again? Dirk… Dean?” Draco asked with his usual voice filled with arrogance and annoyance. His eyebrows went up and down as he leaned against a wall with his arms crossed. “Neal. And I should be going.” You blurted. Theodore was slow to move aside and you passed him, his eyes never leaving you. As you walked away you could hear Mattheo snicker and your heart sank.
Up until recently you had gotten along with them just fine. You were Pansy’s friend and by association also theirs. Just like you were Ron and Harry’s friend because of your friendship with Hermoine. However, there was a difference. You always wanted to be liked by the Slytherin guys, or just by one. Unfortunately, ever since you mentioned you were going on a date they had collectively decided to ridicule your every move. Making you feel terribly insecure.
***
Your date flopped. Neal was a great guy. Accept for the fact that he was obviously still hung up on his ex-girlfriend. When you entered the Three Broomsticks and chose a table near a window, he told you his ex liked to sit by the window too. When you ordered drinks, Neal told you his ex didn’t like your choice of drink. When he mentioned her for a third time, you fell silent and gave him a tight lipped smile. Oh Merlin. This was the worst.
After a little over an hour you said your awkward goodbyes. You started to walk back to Hogwarts, dreading the idea of telling your friends about your date or worse all those other gossiping people finding out.
As you arrived at the courtyard the ones you wanted to avoid most were there. You tried to subtly speed walk past them. This time it was Mattheo who was first to speak. “Y/n! You’re back early.” You simply sighed and Mattheo smirked. “How long were you gone? Didn’t even last two hours.” Mattheo turned to Theodore who let out a short laugh. Pansy who sat next to Enzo shot up and started yelling. “Oi, shut it!” Your friend took your arm to guide you away from them, towards the castle. “Pay up, Blaisy-boy. Not even two hours, so I win.” You heard Riddle say and you shot one last look at them, seeing how Blaise grimaced and reached inside his pockets to pay up. You were nothing more than a joke to them.
Pansy held onto your arm while you walked towards your common room. Hermoine spotted you from afar and pushed Ron and Harry aside to get to you. “So how was i…” Hermoine’s question was cut of my Pansy aggressive signal to shut up. “So, should we hex him?” Hermoine suggested as she saw that your eyes were welling up with tears. “No, it’s not him. I mean it was a bad date. But, so what. No biggie. But those, those, those… twats! They, they are the worst!” You yell, attracting the attention of students nearby. Hermoine looks over to Pansy with a confused look. “Will hex all five of them.” Pansy said and Hermoine caught on, she knew exactly which five morons you were talking about.
You nodded and sighed. “I need a moment alone. I’m going up to the astronomy tower for some quiet time.” Your friends were understanding and you left.
Theodore
“This is my hang-out.” Theodore says, pulling you out of your train of thoughts. “This is the spot people go to when they’re sad. If this is your hang-out, then that says a lot about you.” Theo halts for a moment, feeling a little exposed by your analysis, but joins you nevertheless, his arms resting on the railing. You notice how he plays with a cigarette between his fingers. “I won’t light it. I know you don’t like it when I smoke.” You raise your eyebrows. “I also don’t like it when you ridicule me, but that’s never stopped you or your merrie band of delinquents from mocking me.” Now, it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.
He’s about to open his mouth and give you some lame excuse for his behavior, but you stare at him with unimpressed eyes. So, he closes his mouth and lets out a nervous laugh. He takes a step back from the railing and throws his hands up in surrender. “I’ll admit, I’ve not been on my best behavior the past week.” Now, he has your full attention. You wanna hear what he has to say. “But neither have you.” He points to you and you scoff, no longer wanting to listen. “Going on a date with… what’s his name again. Of course everyone’s laughing.” You let out a laugh of disbelief. “Unbelievable.” You sigh.
“How about you go out with me? No one will laugh.” When you didn’t immediately respond he tried to sell the idea a little. “I’ll tell Matt and the others to behave. No more mocking.” You tilt your head in amusement to his suggestion. This guy, unbelievable. “You can do that, tell them to behave?” Theo takes a step closer towards you, leaving no space between you two. “Uhu.” He absentmindedly breathes while his hand softly caresses your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “And will you behave?” You ask, subtly taunting him. “I’ll be good.” He says softly and licks his lip.
“I’ll think about it.” You say taking a step and putting some distance between you two. But Theo quickly reaches for your arm, pulling you back towards him. “Don’t play with me.” As soon as you look into his eyes, his lips are on yours. The kiss is filled with longing, his thumb brushing your cheek as he pulls you in. Theo pushes you against the railing, never breaking the kiss. Your hand finds their way to his messy hair. The more you tug on one another and push into each other, the sloppier the kiss gets. He squeezes your ass and as a reflex you gently buck your hips into him. “Fuck.” He growls. You smile at his reaction and seize the moment to push him away.
Walking past him, you never take your eyes off the confused man. “I’m looking forward to that date.”
Blaise
“I lost a bet because of you.” Blaise says with a loud voice while he’s still on the stairs almost at the top, but still out of sight. You turn towards the stairs waiting for him to arrive. “I mean really, not even two hours.” “No.” You cross your arms in annoyance. “I mean you're annoying sometimes, but-“ You shove his shoulder. “I was not annoying! I AM never annoying. I’m a blessing to be around.” He raises his eyebrows, but you ignore him and continue your rant. “You! You on the other hand are frankly unbelievably childish!” You poke his chest, being more than a little shocked at how muscular he is, but you push that thought aside. “Betting on my misery, have you no shame!”
He spreads his arms in defense. “Well, that was Mattheo’s idea. No morals, that guy.” You raise an eyebrow in response. Just Mattheo. Think not. All of you, you’re a bunch of demon children. “You joined in.” You throw at him, like a lawyer making their case. “And lost.” Blaise says sheepishly. “Don’t be mad at me. I lost money, my day is already bad enough.” You turn on your heels, away from him. “Well what about my shitty day.”
“Ah, about that, your shitty day, I can make it better.” In a split second you’re facing him again, eyes shining with curiosity. “This better be good, Zabini.” He simply grinned. “There’s this guy, who’s been into you for months now. Incredibly hot. Sixpack and everything. Really into quidditch, a bit of a jock, but also really likes wizard chess and magic history. And has a soft side, secretly loves to watch muggle-movies. That’s some boyfriend material, uh?” You’ve been nodding along searching for the catch.
“What’s the catch, Zabini, no dude’s that good. Definitely not one that happens to have a thing for me.” He smiles as takes a step closer. “He would like to ask you out. So.. what do y’say?” You drop your head and shake no. “I’m not going out with him until you tell me what the catch is.” “Fineee, the catch is… he’s me.” You frown in confusion. “You, Blaise Zabini, want to go out with me?” A nervous and adorable smile appears on his face. “Yeah, and I would like it to last longer than two hours.” You give his shoulder a little push. “Depends, are you going to talk about your ex the entire time?” “What? That’s how Dirk ruined your date? What a git.” His name was Neal, but whatever. I got a new and better date.
Enzo
Enzo has his back against the railing. His eyes trace your face. “Didn’t go well did it?” Your eyes meet his and he sees your forehead wrinkle at his stupid question. “Well, look on the bright side. You’re back on the market.” You shift yourself so you’re leaning against the railing with your side and facing Enzo. “I was never off the market. I went on one date.” He also shifted so he’s facing you. “Yeah, you’re right. I was overreacting. I shouldn’t have worried so much.” You look confused at him, but he doesn’t immediately explain. “Why were you worried?”
“Well, uhm, you know, maybe you would’ve liked him.” He tried his best to sound casual, but you could tell he was a little nervous. You took a small step towards him. “Why would that be a bad thing?” He huffed like the answer was obvious. “Because it’s wrong to ask out a girl who's dating.” You frown. “You’ve lost me, Enzo, I don’t follow.”
“Wait, wait. This will clear it up.” He closes the space between you two and cups your cheek. What followed was the softest kiss ever. After a moment you both opened your eyes, but didn’t move away from each other. “See, I couldn’t have done that if you were dating Neal.” You nodded. “I follow.” You brushed your lips over his. A cheeky smile covered his face. “You know, if you’re interested… there are a lot of things we can do now that it’s just you and me.” “Care to give an example.”
“My pleasure.” Is all he says before his hands find their way to your hips lifting you up. Your legs tangle around him as he pushes you against a wall. The cold stone makes you arch into him. His mouth nips on the flesh of your neck. “You and I should go on a date.” Enzo breathes in between kisses. “You two need to find a room.” You're both startled by Neville’s sudden appearance. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Enzo says, looking at you with lust. “Mine or yours?” You ask as you lick your bottom lip.
Draco
You sighed, letting the view and silence calm you. Suddenly you hear footsteps and when you look up Draco’s walking towards you with his usual flair. “What a tool, that Neal-guy. Taking you to the Three Broomsticks.” You roll your eyes and look away from him. “You should’ve known, a guy like him is no good.” Before he opens his mouth again you whip your head around towards him, eyes ready to kill. “He’s no good? Neal’s not the problem. You are! You’re no good, with you mocking and ridiculing. You’ve been acting like a total ass the last few days! So get lost, Malfoy!”
Draco remains quiet for a moment. The frown on his face grows as he realizes his jealousy might have taken the upper hand these past few days. Falling back in his normal composure, his hands reach for the cold railing as he comes to stand next to you. “I just didn’t think it was a good idea. You, going out with him. You need someone who buys you a dress and takes you to a fancy place.” When you look up at him in confusion, he continues staring in front of him. “I think you deserve better.” You huff, indulging his lame excuse for his behavior. “Know any guy like that?” You blurt out thinking back to your miserable date.
Draco inspects the rings on his fingers as he searches for the courage to say what he so badly wanted to say these last couple of days. “Me.” He says so quietly you almost didn’t hear, but you did and you look up at him with wide eyes. Where is this going? “I would like to take you somewhere fancy. Spoil you.” You let out a laugh and he immediately snaps at you. “No, need to laugh. A simple ‘no thanks’ would have sufficed.” You press your lips together and take a step towards him. The scowl on his face falls when your hand reaches for his tie, gently playing with it. “I think I’m going to take you up on that offer, Malfoy.” Your face inches towards him and his lips brush yours.
The kiss immediately becomes more passionate and his hand tangles in your hair holding you in place. His other hand snakes to the small of your back pulling you close. You whimper softly at the feeling of your bodies against one another. This gives him the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss even more. You break apart to catch your breath, but you stay close. “You were jealous, weren’t you?” Draco scoffs. “Not. It’s simply a matter of principle. Classy women belong with classy men.” You roll your eyes. “Draco, kiss more, talk less.” He huffs in annoyance, but obliges.
Mattheo
“I told you so.” Mattheo’s voice sang as he approached you. You didn’t turn around, instead you just rolled your eyes. “That guy just wasn’t for you. Don’t be so upset about it.” You shook your head. What’s he even doing here? Shouldn’t he be laughing behind your back with friends? When you stayed quiet Mattheo got worried and his tone softened. “He didn’t hurt you or anything? ‘Caus I’ll deal with him. He’ll never bother you again.” Okay that’s it, Riddle. You angrily grab onto the railing you were leaning on before turning around fuming. “He didn’t hurt me. He was just boring. But you on the other hand, you hurt me with your constant mockery. So why don’t you punch yourself in the face and stop bothering me.” Mattheo looked away from you for a moment, making you think he actually felt bad. But when he looked back up, he was back to being his cocky self. “Can’t punch this pretty face.” He said, pointing at himself, grinning.
You turned away from him, hoping that he would leave. You couldn’t see it but his face fell again, really feeling bad about hurting you with his stupid jokes. “I just knew he wasn’t the guy for you.” No reaction from you. “Look, we can split my win from the bet with Blaise.” You let your head fall, looking at him from the corner of your eyes. The audacity. He came to stand next to you and also rested his arms on the railing. “I know, I can be an ass sometimes. So, just tell me, love, how do I make this right.” Your eyes meet his, you’re surprised by his gesture. “I guess it’s alright. I’m a forgiving soul.” He turns away from the view, towards you and lays a hand on the small of your back. “No, don’t be forgiving. I’ll do anything to make this right.”
He uses his body language to make it clear that he’s willing to do anything to make it up to you, shuffling closer, leaning into you and licking his lips suggestively. “Are you really trying to seduce me into forgiving you?” You ask not believing that that’s the best he can come up with. “Well no, love, I’m going to fuck you into forgiving me.” This man. Who does he think he is… well, the dark lord’ son, but still. Unbelievable. Mattheo falls to his knees, his hands moving from your back, sliding over your ass to your legs. He looks up at you with soft eyes before gently pushing your skirt up. This man… should be my future husband. Mattheo places soft kisses on your thight, slowly getting closer to your panties.
You close your eyes and let out a soft moan as he gently tugs down your panties. “If we get caught up here. I’m never going to forgive you.” He places a featherlight kiss between your legs and you instinctively reach for his curls. “Are you sure? Because I think I’m really excelling at apologizing, don’t you think so, love?” Damn you, Riddle. You’re good, and you know it.
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pucksandpower · 10 months
Text
Your Friend Steve
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: it’s finally me and you, and you and me … just us, and your friend Charles
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r/relationshipadvice
u/yourusername · 9h
My boyfriend (26M) and I (22F) cannot get a second alone!
The two of us have been together for a few years now. We met through mutual friends and really hit it off. He’s caring, thoughtful, and we have the best time together.
The issue is ... his best friend (26M) is ALWAYS around. And I mean always. We’ll be out to dinner and bestie will show up and pull up a chair. We’ll be cuddling on the couch watching Netflix and he’ll let himself in with the spare key and wedge between us. I swear this guy is like an overeager puppy sometimes.
The other day I came home with my boyfriend and bestie was there ... sleeping on MY side of the bed because he “got lonely” at his place. And don’t get me started on trying to plan a vacation for just the two of us. Without fail, bestie always finds out where we are and shows up.
I’m happy they’re so close and I’d never want to get between them or ask my boyfriend to pick. But his best friend is starting to feel like a third wheel in our relationship. I jokingly said to my boyfriend that at this rate, bestie will be part of our engagement and marriage too!
I could really use some outside advice. How do I kindly set some boundaries with my boyfriend’s overly-attached best friend? I want all of us to still be friends but the constant third-wheeling is getting to be a bit much.
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u/relationshipguru123 · 8h
Wow, this sounds really annoying and awkward! Hate to say it but your boyfriend needs to step up and set some better boundaries with his friend. As close as they may be, it’s not ok for him to let his friend crash your alone time constantly. It’s disrespectful to you and your relationship. If your bf won’t address it, you’ll have to be the “bad guy” and talk to the friend directly to give him a reality check.
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u/NeedMoreSpace · 7h
I feel you, OP! My sister deals with this with her husband’s best friend too. They even joked that the friend would be IN the delivery room when they have kids one day 😳 She finally sat down with her husband and told him that while she cares about the friend, she needs some lines drawn for their marriage’s sake. Maybe suggest setting one or two date nights a week that are just for you two? And no dropping in unannounced! Compromise is key.
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u/BFFboundaries · 5h
This behavior would drive me CRAZY! You need to put your foot down with your bf and tell him his friend’s constant presence is affecting your relationship. Then talk to the friend together to make it clear you just need some alone time as a couple sometimes. If they don’t respect reasonable space, it will breed resentment.
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r/relationships
u/DutchLion · 5h
Help! My best friend (26M) is cockblocking me without even realizing it!
I (26M) have been together with my girlfriend (22F) for a few years. She’s awesome — fun, hilarious, and crazy sexy. She puts up with my quirks and even likes watching sports with me. Absolute keeper!
The problem is, my best friend has NO boundaries. I love him like a brother but he has zero concept of personal space or alone time.
Just last night, my girl and I were enjoying some long overdue freaky time together, when who bursts through the bedroom door unannounced? Yep, my best friend. Turns out he “accidentally” made copies of my keys ages ago.
Before I can react, he’s jumped onto the bed between us asking what we’re up to. My girlfriend was mortified and hurried to cover up. There went the mood for the rest of the night thanks to Captain Cockblock!
That’s just the latest in a long string of intrusions. Double dates, surprise sleepovers in OUR bed, you name it. I’m going to have to lock down the apartment Fort Knox style to get any intimacy!
Don’t get me wrong, I would take a bullet for my best friend. But how do I politely tell him that constant third-wheeling is killing my game and giving me the most painful blue balls known to man? Is there a tactful way to set some boundaries so we BOTH stay sane and satisfied?
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u/CantUnseeThat · 4h
Dude, I felt awkward just READING this! Major props to your girlfriend for being so chill. You gotta have a talk with your boy and set some hard lines. A real best friend would respect that your relationship needs privacy too.
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u/Locks4aReason · 3h
Your friend needs better boundaries yesterday. Sit him down, tell him you get he’s lonely but he can’t just walk in whenever, especially when sexy times are happening! Maybe suggest setting him up on some dates so he finds fulfillments elsewhere.
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u/needabroboundary · 3h
As much as you love your best friend, your personal life with your lady should be a priority over letting him run wild! Have a man-to-man talk and make it clear you just need some couple time a few days a week. Offer to schedule some designated bro time to keep that bond too. Gotta compromise.
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u/needspace321 · 2h
Don’t feel bad about setting some hard boundaries, even if it bruises his ego at first. True friends will understand. Explain you just need some regular alone time with your gf. Offer a standing weekly bro night to keep the friendship intact too. You need to have that balance!
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r/AmItheAsshole
u/PrinceOfMonaco · 3h
AITA for wanting to spend time with my best friend and his girlfriend?
Some background — my friend (let’s call him M) and I go way back to childhood. We’re basically as close as brothers. A few years ago he started dating his now serious girlfriend (we’ll call her Y).
Initially, I’ll admit I was worried M would drift away and our bromance would fade. But much to my delight, Y is awesome! She likes the same sports, laughs at my jokes, and comes to watch our competitions. Honestly it feels like I gained a sister!
Naturally, the three of us started hanging out constantly. I know me and M have always valued bro time together. But now Y joins our gaming sessions, I ride along on their date nights often, and I will even crash in their guest room after late nights! It’s been pretty great.
Or so I thought? Lately I’ve noticed them acting strange and tense around me. They barely react when I barge into their room or surprise them by their cars after work. Sometimes they pretend to be “busy” if I try making plans last minute.
I can’t figure out why though? Just the other day, I popped by to say hi only to have M rather sternly tell me I should “call before visiting from now on.” And I could swear I heard Y whisper about needing “boundaries” … whatever that means!
I’m starting to feel hurt they suddenly seem fed up with me! AITA here? Am I missing something? Someone help me decode these mixed signals!
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u/needboundaries101 · 3h
YTA. I know you value your friendship but your total lack of boundaries is overbearing. Your friend is trying to set reasonable limits without damaging the friendship but you’re oblivious to all hints. Surprising them and inviting yourself along all the time is inconsiderate. Give them space!
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u/respectrelationships · 3h
Soft YTA. I get you cherish the bromance and her friendship too. But constantly crashing date nights, unannounced visits, etc is cockblocking to the max! They likely feel too awkward to bluntly tell you that they need alone time too sometimes. Tone down the clinginess before you do permanent damage!
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u/flying_solo · 2h
NAH but only because you seem genuinely unaware your behavior is an issue! Most people would have picked up on the hints by now. You should DEFINITELY be calling ahead before visits or tagging along to closed plans. Give them a chance to say no thanks. Gotta let your bro spread his wings too.
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u/threesacrowd · 2h
YTA. You would lose your mind if your best friend was this invasive during your dates! When they make excuses or leave early, that’s NOT an invitation to join them unasked and uninvited next time! They’re just too polite to be harsh so I’ll spell it out — you have to give them personal alone time without taking offense.
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charles_leclerc
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Liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername, and 1,273,948 others
charles_leclerc happy third anniversary to my favorite couple ❤️
View all 3,085 comments
maxverstappen1 thanks, mate!
charles_leclerc i’m going to pick up some dinner from that italian place we all like and i should be at your place in around 20 minutes
yourusername we really appreciate that, charlie. but you know … it’s our anniversary and we would like to celebrate alone
charles_leclerc i totally understand! that’s why i’m taking the food to go so we can celebrate alone with just the three of us
maxverstappen1 yeah but we want to ✨celebrate✨ you get me?
charles_leclerc you want me to stop and buy some sparklers?
yourusername what we’re trying to say is that we want to celebrate … in bed
charles_leclerc even better! your mattress is so comfortable and we can put some netflix on while we have a sleepover together
landonorris they’re literally spelling it out for you in black and white 💀
pierregasly mon ami, they’re trying to say they need some adult time tonight 😏 maybe skip the visit this once
danielricciardo how do i say this nicely … max and y/n are clearly desperate for uh, anniversary cuddles without you as the little spoon!
lewishamilton someone rescue my man charles from himself before it’s too late. praying the two lovebirds to get to celebrate properly tonight 😉
charles_leclerc of course we will all celebrate properly! i have champagne
roscoelovescoco read’s the room’s 🙄
f1wagupdates i can’t tell if charles is trolling them or if he genuinely doesn’t get it 😭
charles_leclerc what is there to get?
yourusername i give up 🤦‍♀️
yourusername … what flavor popcorn do you want for our sleepover?
charles_leclerc white cheddar, please!
3K notes · View notes
spicybunni · 1 year
Text
YANDERE HUSBAND HEADCANONS
Hello Darlings! This is an imagine I had in my drafts about a husband who just loves his wife so much he wants to care for and impregnate her💕 Hope you like it!
WARNINGS ⚠️: NSFW!! (Minors do NOT interact), NSFW descriptions, fem!darling, controlling husband, pregnancy mentions
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-You’ve been Married to your husband for a year now and it’s been great. The biggest change was your last name changing to his and having a big rock on your finger. The second was him asking you to be a stay-at-home wife…
-You loved your job but…how could you say no to all your needs being met by a man who worships and adores you? He just wants to take care of you and be comfortable. “Is that so bad of me to want for my little wifey?” He would ask while kissing the knuckle of your hand.
-He told you if you didn’t like the lifestyle that you could go back to working. (As if he was gonna let that happen.) which made you feel better about just being at home all day and spending his money. And also letting you believe you had some control. But of course that wasn’t the end of his plans..
-Before having unprotected sex your husband would always gush about having babies with you and how great of a mother you would be. Your face would turn red at the thought at first but then you brushed it off as your husband having baby fever. It’ll pass right?
-Ha. If only it was a phase.
-This man has been wanting to impregnate you since the first year of you two dating. He loves you so much and think life would be even more amazing if you carried and raised children together. He wants to see your big belly and be there for when you get needy and become oh so helpless with the excessive hormones.
-But despite not using protection you always tracked your period for your health. Your husband started to get into it as well to lookout for your ovulation week. His favorite time of the month.
-He would low key get a little bummed out when you would start your period. But it gave him motivation to try harder…go harder… cum inside you harder…
-Perhaps he could just do that position you liked a few days ago….you were really squeezing him and begging for more.
-Yeah by the way, this man keeps track of what positions are best for making a baby and what makes you cum hard on his cock.
-You are no dummy to his antics. It takes two to tango. You knew your husband wanted a baby and…let’s just say he was very convincing in his actions to want a family.. 👀
-Plus you were married so there really wasn’t anything to be worried about right?
-So why do you shake with anxiety as you look at the test in your hands? The reality of it hits you hard in your bathroom. You feel good but also nervous to tell him. Even though he always claims he’s wanted kids with you just couldn’t help but prepare for the worst. But you also knew this would happen eventually when you let him cum inside you.
-A week prior when you two went out for dinner, your husband was the most possessive man ever. He hated when other men would even get to look at you. His grip was tighter and gaze so dark. On the way home he was holding onto your thigh as if you would fly away.
-That night you had 3 hours of raw heaven. By the end of it you remember being sticky and a bit sex drunk. Not being able to move your legs to your butt feeling sore. Your husband did not waver. You felt so full of him and content you couldn’t even complain.
-“My perfect wife, taking her husband’s load so good…”
-A week and a missed period later your husband in question is downstairs cooking dinner for you both. He figured since youre in the shower (and taking a pregnancy test) that he would surprise you!
-You come down in a bathrobe, hand griping on the tie. “Hey honey?”
-He turns his head to you, immediately becoming worried at your facial expression and appearance. Turning off the stove burners he comes over to you. “What’s up baby? you okay?” He puts a hand on your waist and another resting on your cheek to look at him.
-“I-I’m pregnant..” you stutter out. You back up from him to get his full expression. His face would be surprised but then he would become red in happiness and embrace you. You blinked a few times not saying anything before your husband exclaims with watery eyes “I’m so happy!!”
-You both embraced the news and continued into the night gushing about this new chapter you started. For your husband it was more of a marker that you’re finally all his. And he can’t wait for the little rascals he’ll continue to fill you with.
-That night after dinner you both lay in bed with your husbands hand holding your stomach protectively. You place a hand over his, smiling and drifting to sleep before you heard your husband mumble “Now you’re all mine..” in his sleep…
❤️
5K notes · View notes
belovedcloud · 5 months
Text
Boxes
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pairing: older! neighbour! leon kennedy x fem! reader
✎ notes: older leon has been rotting my brain recently, especially DI leon ugh. i'm making another fic with him but I honestly might do vendetta leon. i just know this man would help you out with moving in.
➤ WC: 3K
➤ CW: strangers to lovers? pet names: sweetheart, love, baby, darling, good girl. reader is seen to be in their low 20s whilst leon being 38. leon feeling ashamed of himself for liking you, mentions of ada, helena, claire. leon has a fleshlight. touch starved Leon. both you and Leon are a bit tipsy. tit play, leon eating you out, p in v (unprotected sex), aftercare.
MINORS DNI!
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Carrying boxes was strenuous. You moved in a few weeks ago from your parents house, it was time for a new start. Although, your arms seem to regret the decision as you lift up the remainder of your boxes to the 12th floor. But it wasn't as bad when you had a certain man by your side. Leon was lucky enough to see you struggle your way up the apartment complex. Your first meeting with him had a slight tinge of embarrassment but soon died down as you got to know each other soon enough. With Leon carrying all of your heavy belongings such as your disheveled chairs and whatnot - you could see the strain on his muscles, it was attractive without a doubt. Despite the fact that he was older than you, the way he carried himself with looks and personality made him extremely enchanting. He was a man of charisma.
Today was like no other, however, it was the last lot of boxes you had stored in your parents house. Therefore, it shouldn't be that hard right? Leon was coming to help you out anyways, he insisted.
A few minutes passed, your back towards your car as you wait for Leon to come out of the complex. A similar silhouette appeared, Leon closed the door behind him - approaching you with a small smile. "Last set today then?" He spoke out to you as he opened the trunk of the car. "Yeah, good for you right? Your old back won't be cracking every 5 minutes" You teased leading to Leon giving a low chuckle as he looked at you. "Old? You wound me." He laughed out as he took an airy box. "I don't look that old do I?" He passed the package to you, taking a hefty one for himself. "No... no, you look good." You mumbled out, hoping he didn't take the compliment in a different way. "Good? I'll take it." Leon gave you a smirk as he shifted the box, walking towards the door. You hurried up behind him, ensuring you didn't make yourself look weird. Entering into the complex with a nervous look on your face. Even though moving in was arduous, the thoughts of not speaking to Leon daily made you feel quite upset. How would you even make up an excuse to see him? Knowing him for a few weeks was short but the way you linked with each other was different. It was like you were friends for years, comfort was found within you when you spoke to Leon. If only you knew how he felt about you.
Leon felt bad. He felt ashamed that he found you so attractive. The way your shirt hugged your body and your jeans show the curvature of your ass and your thighs strained. You were so much younger than him - he couldn't help his mind wandering to images of you whilst he laid in his own bed. Wishing it was yours. He built your bedframe, he helped you place the soft clean mattress on top. Yet he felt pure filth in his self as he thought of your body on his. His hands intertwined with yours as ideas of fucking you flooded his brain. Night after night it would be the same for him, his cock thrusting into his hand or fleshlight. He tried to think of anyone else but you. Ada, Claire, Helena could only stay in his mind for a mere 20 seconds before his brain cogged back to you. You. It wouldn't help hearing you over the thins walls as you touched yourself. The softest but most pornographic moans leaving your lips. Leon only wished that it was him making you sound that way, but it was wrong. What would his friends think if he dated you? He believed he was out of your league - if only he knew about the sinful thoughts you had about him too when you indulged in your own pleasure. Two fingers thrusting into your cunt wishing it was his, gushing all over your thighs as images of him engulfed your brain.
"Stay here, I'll get the last few boxes for you." Leon maintained a steady voice shaking out the immoral ideas in his head. Keeping a level-headed smile he gave you a small wave before you could argue back. Seeing his back turned towards you, your eyes subconsciously wandered on it. Soon landing onto his biceps, subtle veins leading to his hands as he went stood in front of the elevator. Snapping yourself out of your trance, you unpacked the two boxes you and Leon took up. Placing the glasses into the kitchen cabinet and hanging up clothes was therapeutic in some way. Helping you calm yourself from your thoughts on Leon as you felt a wet patch on your panties. Pouring out a glass of wine for two as you waited for Leon to come back.
"I think that's it.. unless you have some hidden ones in your car?" He joked as he placed down the final box to the side, looking up to see you with two glasses of wine in your hand. "Oh?" He smiled, stretching his back before walking to you. "Seems like you need this then." You giggled passing him the glass, Leon rolling his eyes as he took it. "Thank you for the past few weeks helping me move in... I was wondering if you wanted to relax for a bit?" You murmured, sitting down on your couch. Leon soon accompanying you. "How can I say no?" He gave you a slight smirk as the rim of the wine glass pressed against his lips, the alcoholic liquid sliding down his throat.
A bottle or two of wine later caused the both of you to erupt into laughter and giggles - getting to know each other quite well. You learned that Leon worked for the government, although not being able to go into grave detail, he was an important figure for the USA. It wasn't long until you also explained what your job was, explaining in why you chose your path. However, you felt hot. Way too hot as you sensed his eyes gaze all over you. Lingering onto your lips and eyes as he looked at you with such awe and fascination. Leon felt warm within himself, you were like a new light that he had been longing for. You spoke without care, refreshing for him as his job withheld such secrecy. An urge secreted in him as your soft lips moved with grace. He yearned for you, and it was becoming evident from the pained strain in his jeans.
Taking another sip from your drink, you spoke without thinking. "How's your love life?" Shit. Was that too personal? Hoping for the best outcome you fiddled with your glass as your eyes wandered to his face, trying to decipher what expression he had. "Boring. If I'm being honest with you, I haven't dated anyone for years." A deep chuckle elicited out of his throat. The rasp laced in his tone giving you a shiver. "Seriously? You're joking." A giggle came out of you. Was he actually single? "Nope. But I'm surprised you don't have a certain someone here. You've got a boyfriend haven't you?" Leon hiccupped out, the alcohol making him feel fuzzy. To his surprise, your head shook side to side. "No, I'm single alright." You said with a soft smile plastered on your face. Leon genuinely couldn't believe it. A woman like you single? "Now that's a surprise." Leon grinned as he finished his 4th glass of wine. "Well, I'm sure you'll be able to find a man of your age. Although most of them are probably a pain in your ass." He laid back onto the couch, his arm behind his head. Again, your eyes couldn't help but avert to the flex of his bicep. This time, it didn't go unnoticed.
"You're right." A sigh came from your lips, "Which is why I don't usually go for guys my age." You admitted, making Leon confused. So who did you go for? "Hm? So you like younger men?" He asked, staring into your eyes with his own lustful ones. Praying that what you were looking for was the opposite of young. A mellow giggle followed out of your mouth as you shook your head once more. "No, I like older men." Leon's smirk became wider as those words left your mouth. Maybe he had a chance after all. Perhaps his wrongful thoughts were okay with you - that you wouldn't mind a man near twice your age to fuck you. "Really sweetheart?" A low groan drawn out his throat, his eyes basically fucking you. That same heat returned to you, just much more insatiable.
It was like a flip in you switched, your body longing for touch as so for Leon. Sloppy kisses shared between you two as Leon's hands gripped the fat on your hips. Subconsciously grinding himself into you as he felt your clit throb on his crotch. Your quiet whimpers muffled by the crashing of yours and Leon's lips unmethodical rhythms as saliva was shared. "F-Fuck.." A moan left Leon's lips, his head clouded by lust as he tapped your legs. "Wrap 'em around me darling." He demanded as he held you up, your legs squeezed tight around his waist - your irregular breathing echoing in his mind. Leon wasn't going to just fuck you on the couch, he wanted to show you his love. Heavy footsteps followed behind him as he nudged your bedroom door open, placing you gently on your newly built bed. "Let's see how well I built this frame, yeah?" Leon joked as he littered your neck with butterfly kisses. Pinning you down, stopping your squirming beneath him. "L-Leon..." That was enough to get him going, the pornographic moan after the lustful mumble of his name had his cock throbbing for more. He wanted you, he needed you.
Leon's hands slowly crept under your shirt, caressing your chest as he kneaded your tits. Pinching at your nipples to elicit another whine out of you. Your soft, mellow skin opposed his calloused hands. The hands that killed bioweapons were fondling with your tits, shakily taking off your shirt to show them in true beauty. "So fucking gorgeous." Leon groaned out, without a doubt in his mind he shoved his head in between your breasts. Your whimpers echoed throughout your bedroom, just to be stopped as you gasped when you felt his knee part your legs. Rubbing your clothed clit as he sucked on the plush parts of your tits. His hands methodically unbuttoned your jeans, slowly pulling them off you as he saw your pretty laced panties. They would've looked so innocent if it wasn't for the soaked wet patch in the middle of them. "All this for me baby?" He murmured, enchanted by how wet you were. You could couldn't help but frantically nod your head, needing to feel his touch somewhere else. "P-Please Leon.. need you to touch me." You moaned gently, your hips bucking for any type of touch. Who was he to say no to such a polite question? "Alright sweetheart.. C'mon spread your legs f'me." He ordered and you obeyed, feeling like mush in his hands.
The pads of his fingers played with the lace and the little bow at the top. Cute. Slowly, he slid your panties to the side, your slick leaving a small strand attached to the material. Leon was mesmerized by the sight, yet you felt embarrassed. Trying to close your legs failed as his strong hands pried you open. "Don't close 'em love, you're so beautiful. Let me appreciate you, yeah?" He groaned, feeling himself rut into your fresh linen sheets. Leon positioned himself in front of your clit, feeling his mouth water as he looked at it. His eyes flickering to you before asking "Do you want me to carry on darling?" His hot breath tickling you, a soft moan squeezed out your throat. "Yes.. Please Leon.. Want your tongue on my clit." Leon gave you a deep chuckle in response, his eyes flickering back to your clit. "'Atta girl.. Didn't know you were so dirty." He whispered before licking your slit, slowly capturing you in his mouth.
This was pure filth. Your moans alongside the wet sounds your pussy was making as Leon's pistoned two fingers in and out of you. His tongue skillfully flicking over your clit as his baby blue eyes watched your reactions. Your fingers felt themselves entangled in Leon's hair, pulling at his strands as choked moans fell out of your mouth. Chasing for that sweet release, you subconsciously bucked your hips, allowing for Leon's nose to press up against your clit. Deep, shallow moans trembled into your clit as Leon was determined to make you cum. He wanted all of you, he needed you to be ready for his cock. "C'mon, give it to me baby." He pressed his tongue against you, curving his fingers in you in the right spot. "L-Leon... I'm gonna.." Your sentence was soon cut off by the shaking of your body as the coil in you snapped. The orgasm took over your body, your lips chanting his name as you pulled on his hair. Granting you a groan from Leon as he swallowed your cum. "So sweet." He chuckled, pulling himself off you. Before pulling your face close to his, allowing you to taste yourself as he kissed you.
Leon felt a hand tug on his shirt, your pleading eyes staring into his blue ones. A smirk tugged his face as he took off his shirt. Slowly unbuckling his belt, removing his jeans alongside it too. Your cunt ached to be fucked, your mind telling you that only Leon could satisfy your needs.
He pulled down his boxers, a pretty dark red tip beamed at you. Glistening with pre-cum smeared all of it. You couldn't help but stare as Leon's face flushed a light pink. "Fuck.. Don't look at it like that sweetheart." He moaned softly, positioning himself right up against your entrance. "You ready?" His hand slowly caressed your face, a nod coming from you as he intertwined his hand with yours. He was big. Real fucking big as you felt yourself stretch open, your eyes rolling back in pain mixed with pleasure. Fuck. Leon could've came right there as he saw your expression change. You were so attractive. He slowly rutted himself into you, moaning your name as his hips sputtered. "Y-You alright?" He stuttered out, you were so tight. "Yeah.. I'm okay. You can move Leon." A soft smile appeared on your face, he couldn't help but reciprocate it back. He moved his hips, his thrusts soft - but it was hard to keep it that way after a minute. His thighs started to slap against yours as his dick pistoned into you. Leon threw his head back in otherworldly pleasure, moaning sweet nothings as he felt himself lose himself inside of you. You were no different. Your moans and screams increased in volume and pitch as you felt him pound into you. Your legs shaking in pleasure as you felt that same coil tighten in you again. "My good girl.. f-fuck so fucking good f'me." Leon growled, feeling his body become weak to your pheromones. He buried his head into your neck, marking you with lovebites. He felt his dick throb as his hips moved without thought.
"Leon.. I'm gonna cum again.. Feels too good." Mewls escaped from your throat as your hands scrapped at his back. Scratching him. The pain mixed with pleasure was enough for Leon to start panting as he felt himself get close. "Cum for me, please cum for me baby.." He whined as he thrusted into your sweet little pussy. You were so pretty for him, his good girl. The marks on your neck slowly started to become more evident, a smirk appeared on his face as he saw you scrunch up your face. His hand snaked down to your clit, slowly rubbing it. Giving you a whole new sensation as you felt his dick pulsate inside you. "I.. I.. Leon!" The coil in you snapped again, twice as hard as you creamed all over his cock. He didn't stop smacking himself into you, a white ring forming at the base. Leon started to chase his own high. "Take it, take it, take it." He chanted as he felt his hips stammer. The clapping of your skin quickly died down as Leon jerked himself out of you, rubbing his dick as his cum splattered all over your stomach. You couldn't help but think how handsome he looked as he threw his head back, moaning your name.
After both of your highs, Leon practically collapsed on top of you. "G-Get off.. You're so heavy." You tried to push him off, a laugh escaping Leon's lips as he pulled himself off of you. Pressing a soft kiss against your lips. He climbed out of your bed, pulling up his boxers and walked out of your bedroom. Soon, he returned with a damp cloth in his hand with two bottles of water in the other. Whilst wiping you down, Leon flashed you a quick smile and passed you the cold bottle. Your lips pursed the top as you gulped down the liquid. "C'mon... Let's shower." He took his hand into yours, lifting you up from your bed and carrying you to your bathroom. Your hot thighs pressed against the cold counter as he flipped the shower on. "Hey guess what." Leon couldn't help but giggle out the sentence. Your eyebrow cocked up as you looked over to him. "What?" You asked him with a smile on your face.
"At least we know I built the frame right." He laughed out, finding himself hilarious. "Oh shut up." Your laughter soon followed along.
likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! thank u for reading :)
-> masterlist
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starkwlkr · 6 months
Text
silver springs | mark webber
thanks to everyone who voted! like my seb fic, this will only have three parts
part 2 part 3
warning: cheating
requests are closed
INSTRAGRAM
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liked by sebastianvettel, landonorris and 563,377 others
yourusername congratulations oscarpiastri on your incredible sprint race win! first win in f1, but it won’t be the last!
oscarpiastri ❤️
papayafans481 DESERVED
teampiastri did anyone see the interview with david coulthard and mark webber?😭
leclerctears what happened??
teampiastri david kept bringing up y/n and mark couldn’t even say her name 🥲 he said mclaren team principal when referring to her
lewis8wdc what the fuck happened between them?🤨 i know they dated I’m guessing they ended on bad terms
op81xx girl they were gonna get married 😭 mark had the ring and even asked y/n’s family for their blessing there’s a thread on twitter about them
aussiegrit ❤️
multi21bitch you ain’t slick old man 🤨
view all 34,366 comments
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UNITED STATES GRAND PRIX
Lando had scored a podium finish while Oscar had unfortunately suffered a DNF. After the podium ceremony, you were on your way back to the Mclaren garage when you heard a familiar voice. Mark was speaking with Fernando when you had walked by them. It had been years since you were that close to Mark. Of course he was in the Mclaren garage since he was Oscar’s manager, but you were a pro at avoiding Mark Webber.
You kept walking and finally made it to the garage where you congratulated the team for their effort.
“When was the last time she spoke to you?” Fernando questioned the Aussie. He was great friends with both you and Mark. He was one of many that thought you two would end up getting married. He was utterly shocked when Mark had told him that you were no longer together.
“March twenty fifth twenty thirteen. She blocked my number, she told me I couldn’t contact any of her family members either.” He explained. “I fucked up my life, Fernando.”
No one apart from Mark and you knew the reason for the break up.
“What did you do?”
“I hurt her. After Malaysia happened, y/n tried to comfort me, but I pushed her away. I stayed in the paddock late while y/n was already in our hotel room waiting for me, i told her to just go to sleep but she never listens. I was on my way back and I decided to go to a bar and I met a woman there. . . ”
It didn’t take a genius to know what would happen next.
“Shit, Mark.” Fernando mumbled.
“That’s not even the worst part, mate. I came back to our hotel room in the morning and she had her suitcase packed. She was going back home. The woman I was with had texted her from my phone and told her everything.” Mark remembered that night all too well. “She told me she never wanted to see me again . . .”
“Funny how that turned out.”
“But she also told me something else. Her doctor had called her a few days ago and told her she was pregnant. I fucked up my life all because I got mad at the result of a stupid race!”
Like everything else in the paddock, Mark’s words didn’t stay a secret for long. A rumor confirmed true traveled fast.
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PRIVATE INSTAGRAM
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liked by susie_wolff, clairewilliams_official and 143 others
yourprivate happy birthday, my darling 🎀✨ i look forward to your sidewalk chalk artwork everyday ❤️
susie_wolff she’s getting so big! happy birthday!
yourprivate i’m not ready for her to grow anymore🥹
clairewilliams_official what an artist!❤️
yourprivate my own little picasso ❤️
zbrownceo happy birthday 🎂 i hope she enjoyed all the gifts the team and i sent
yourprivate she loved every single one, thank you!
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imaginaryf1shots · 3 months
Text
Winner | Lewis Hamilton
WC: 2.3K
Dad!Lewis x Wife!Reader
Summery: It’s lewis’s win after 945 days of not winning, and it’s also your daughter’s first race.
Warning: None
Masterlist
Lewis Masterlist
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The home you share with Lewis in England is a sanctuary for the two of you. it's a house filled with warmth and comfort. It's a place filled with laughter and good memories.
Deciding to make this house your main one almost 4 years ago was an easy decision for the both of you. Lewis was away racing most of the year, and since you've gotten pregnant, this was the best option, his family is there, and they've been helping you whenever Lewis is away. During his brakes, you all go back to Monaco, the home you shared with Lewis when you were dating to when you got married and until your fourth month of pregnancy. For him, the move was a return to the familiar embrace of family and the land that had shaped him. Lewis’s family had welcomed you with open arms, their support a constant source of strength.
Their love for your daughter knew no bounds. She was the light of everyone’s lives. Her bright eyes and infectious giggle, a beacon of joy.
One thing is that Lola hasn't seen her dad race in real life. The sound of the engines, the rush of the crowd, those were experiences she only saw on the TV or stories told by the adults around her.
You and Lewis talked about bringing her to a race multiple times, but you always felt like she was too young, that it would be too much for her. But seeing other drivers bring their children made Lewis want to bring her more. And as the British Grand Prix approached, it felt like it was finally time, Lewis was buzzing, Mercedes won last week. Yes, it was because Max and Lando crashed, but they still won. And the feeling he had coming into the week was great. He loves Silverstone, and he's won 8 times before. And the thought of having you and Lola there with the rest of his family was filling him up with anticipation.
That's why when Lola got a bit sick and was under the weather, he felt deflated. Was it a bad omen, will this week go wrong and not like he expected. His thoughts ran wild. Throughout media day and Friday, you've been sending him pictures of the two of you watching him. His mum was with you, but she will be going on race day. Unbeknownst to Lewis, Lola was better, so much better, but you were waiting to see if she'll stay okay or maybe get sick again. The colour returned to her cheeks, and she became active once again.
On quali day, it was bright and early, when you felt Lewis get out of bed, but took you a few minutes to will yourself to get out of bed and follow him. You walked in the direction of your daughter's room. The door was open, and the night light was still on, you watched from the door way as Lewis stood by her bed, he's been coming home late at night when Lola was already in bed.
You walked in and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him from the back, feeling his skin under your arms. Lewis leaned slightly into you. You peppered his shoulder with kisses.
“I can't wait for the summer break, I feel like I haven't been spending enough time with her.” Lewis whispers, you hum and look at her from over his shoulder.
“Soon she'll be able to travel with you to races.” You whisper back. “She's super excited about that.”
“I want to start winning again, I want her to be proud of me.” Lewis told you he sounded so vournable in that moment.
“She's already so proud of you, winning or not.” You reasure him. “She goes around saying my daddy is a champion, he won 7 times, and Nicolas taught her to say that you're the goat.”
“Did he?” Lewis smiled.
“Yeah, don't think she knows what it really means, but it has her giggling every time.” You kiss his neck and pull him slightly. You leave her sleeping.
You watch him get ready from the bed, keeping him company, it pains you not being able to be there for him on his home race weekend.
“I can hear you thinking.” Lewis says, and you smile.
“I can't help it, I want to be there for you today and tomorrow.” You pout, and Lewis smiles he walks to the side of the bed you're sitting on before he leans over and presses a few kisses to your lips.
“We can't help it, Lola comes first.” Lewis says and finishes getting ready.
“I know.”
Watching quali with Lola had so many highs and lows for you. For a second, you thought Lewis would qualify first. But alas, it was 1-2 for Mercedes.
Lewis left the track at 10 that day and was home after both you and Lola fell asleep. You slept on the sofa waiting for him. Lewis smiles seeing you on the sofa, the TV on low volume. He kisses your forehead and picks you up. You stir up and wrap your arms around him.
“I'm so proud of you, Lewis.” You mumble, and he kisses your foreheads once more. He puts you in bed before he joins you, and you gravitate towards him, you cuddle.
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Kissing Lewis goodbye the next day, you start getting ready, Carmen, his mum helps Lola get ready while you get ready. You take Lola's bag filled with snacks, toys, and everything she might need or want for the day, also her medicine in case she needs it.
“Look at you so cute.” You tell Lola, seeing her in a mini race suit that is identical to Lewis’, complete with race shoes as well, and a Mercedes cap to boot.
“He'll be so happy.” Carmen tells you, and you agree. She gives you a hug, and the three of you leave. You already agreed with his team to sneak you in and not tell him.
Avoiding fans was the hardest thing, but somehow, you managed to do it. Lewis was in a meeting most of the day. This race was crucial, and a lot of planning went into it.
There was a camera following you and Lola through the Mercedes motorhome, documenting your daughter's first race. She looked around in wander.
“Look who we have here.” Toto said, smiling, seeing your daughter walking in front of you. She smiles up at the tall man, her neck bending to see his face. Toto picks her up.
“Hi, Toto Daddy doesn't know I'm here.” She says and shush him with her finger to her lips.
“Don't worry, I won't tell him.” Toto whispers and smiles. She talks with Toto for a bit before he has to go.
The plan was for one of the team to get a camera into the room Lewis was in, and somehow they did. Lola was told to go knock on the door and walk in.
She looked at you as she walked to the room. You gave her a nod and an encouraging smile. Her small hand knocks on the door, barely making a noise.
Lewis looks up at the door, he thought for a second that he heard a knock or something, it was so light, before the door is pushed open, and he looks down.
“Oh my god.” He whispers. Before he gets up from his chair and, in a few big steps, scoops her up in her arms. “Baby, what are you doing here?”
“It's a surprise, Daddy.” Lola giggles, happy that she managed to surprise her dad.
“She's been feeling much better.” You tell him from the doorway, behind the man filming the father daughter due. Seeing them together here in Mercedes brought tears to your eyes, but you managed not to let them slip. Lewis holds his hand out to you, and you slip in the room and into your husband's arms. He hugs the two of you close, and you enjoy the moment not caring about the people around you.
Lewis is fussy you realised, he's making sure that you're both comfortable in the garage, that Lola's headphones were the right size and that someone will be next to you during the race incase you needed help with anything.
And so for the next hour, the garage became your little haven. Lewis was making sure your daughter was comfortable, adjusting her headphones, and pointing out various parts of the car to her with the patient enthusiasm of a father eager to share his world. She sat perched on his lap, wide-eyed and fascinated by everything around her, her tiny fingers tracing the lines of his racing suit as if trying to memorise every detail. She was so happy when he sat in the car and placed her on his lap, steering wheel and everything.
As the time for the race drew nearer, the atmosphere in the garage grew increasingly tense. Mechanics made their final checks, the car gleamed under the bright lights, and the air was thick with anticipation. Lewis knelt down beside your daughter, his face serious now as he explained that he had to go and get ready. She listened intently, nodding solemnly, and then wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug.
“Go win, Daddy,” she said, her voice full of quiet determination.
With one last kiss for each of you, Lewis stood up, took a deep breath, and headed towards his car. You watched him go, your heart swelling with pride and love.
As the engines roared to life and the cars began to line up on the grid, you held your daughter close, her eyes fixed on the track, her face alight with the same eager anticipation that filled the air. Today is a day you would cherish forever, no matter what the outcome of the race might be.
The start of the race looked good, with Lewis and George keeping the rest of the grid behind them. You grew anxious when the Mclarens over took them after Lewis was leading.
Lap 33 George had to retire his car, and it left you worried for Lewis’ car. Mclaren was leading, but the strategy from Mercedes and Lewis’ experience played a good part for him to take the lead and stay ahead of Lando. Lola sat wide-eyed and mesmerised by the spectacle unfolding before her. Lewis’s car was a blur as it streaked past the garage. You could see the intensity in his movements from the onboard, every turn, and manoeuvre executed with the precision and grace of a seasoned champion. A mix of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins. Your daughter clapped her hands in delight every time she spotted her father’s car, her infectious excitement breaking your own tension and bringing a smile to your face.
”There he is, Mummy! Look! Daddy’s winning!” She exclaimed, her voice enthusiastic, filled with pure love as she watched her daddy do what he he loved and was passionate about.
Max came out of nowhere and overtook Lando easily. Your heart dropped as the last 5 laps went on, Max is catching Lewis, your heart beating hard in your chest. The anticipation was killing you. Then, as the race entered its final lap, a hush fell over the garage, the anticipation reaching a fever pitch. Lewis was leading, and Max was too far to try and overtake.
Lola leaned forward, her eyes wide with awe as she watched the drama unfold. “Is Daddy going to win, Mummy?” she asked, her voice filled with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty.
You squeezed her hand, your own emotions a blend of hope and fear. “He will.” You replied, your voice catching in your throat as you watched the final lap play out before you.
The entire grange was on its feet, a chorus of cheers and applause erupting around you as he passed the chequered flag. You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your heart swelling with pride and joy as you watched him cross the finish line, victorious and triumphant.
The garage exploded into a frenzy of celebration, the noise and excitement almost overwhelming in its intensity.
“Daddy won! Daddy won!” she squealed, her face alight with pure, unadulterated joy.
With Carmen, you made your way to parc ferme, where Lewis parked, Lola in your arms. Your husband has already gotten out of the car and hugged his team and father. Carmen managed to get to him before the two of you, and he fell in her shoulder. He’s crying. Hearing him on the team radio crying made you fight your own tears. You walked around the barrier with Lola still in your arms, Lando was being interviewed by Jensen, and that gave you the time to reach Lewis.
He let go of his mother, and his eyes fell on you and Lola in your arms. Meeting his eyes, the tears you tried to keep at bay fell freely. The moment you reached him, he enveloped you both in a fierce, tearful embrace. You hid your face in his neck as you clutched his race suit around his back, Lola wrapped her arms around his neck.
“We did it, we did it.” He whispered in your ear, his voice cracking as he held you both close.
”Daddy don’t cry.” Lola said patting his back, trying to comfort him like he always comforts her, she leaned back and kissed his cheek, Lewis pulls back and kisses her cheek, before he turns to you and presses a kiss to your lips.
”I love you so much.” You whisper against his lips, a teary smile on your face.
”I love you too.” Lewis tells you the emotions between you thick and overwhelming.
”I love you, Daddy.” Lola said, and Lewis turned to take her in his arms, kissing all over her face.
”I love you too, sweetheart.”
In that moment, amidst the roar of the crowd and the flash of the cameras, nothing else mattered. You were together, and Lewis has proved to everyone that said he’s washed and that it’s over for him wrong. And he did it all on his daughter’s first race. His greatest accomplishment and his lucky charm.
Maintaglist
@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03
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thelostconsultant · 1 month
Text
You got me worried
pairing: Max Verstappen x reader
summary: You get into a car accident when you're on the phone with Max, who immediately leaves to see you. Charles finds out what's wrong and offers to go with him. Those few days in the hospital change a few of his personal relationships.
warning: accident, serious injuries. (no death.)
note: My Lestappen heart wanted me to write this.
word count: almost 5.3k
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“You’re stalling,” you said on the other end of the line, and Max could tell you had that adorable smirk on your face that he loved so much.
But he wasn’t stalling, at least not intentionally. He wanted to answer your question, but he honestly didn’t know what to say, so he decided to take his time to figure out what to tell you. Your mother wasn’t very fond of him, she believed that you made a mistake by dating someone whose job was so dangerous, and she always had this bad feeling about him. When he asked you what it meant, you just shrugged as said not to look for logic in this. So he put his own bad feelings aside and played nice every time they were together somewhere. 
And now? Now you wanted to take her on a trip to New Zealand and asked him to tag along if he didn’t have anything else to do. Well, it was clearly a trap. One, he had no official obligations around New Year’s Eve which you knew perfectly well, and two, he wanted to enter the new year on your side, he wanted to kiss you at midnight, so he had no choice but to follow wherever you were heading. 
Letting out a sigh as he leaned back on his bed in the driver’s room, Max decided to yield, something he was only willing to do because of you. “Fine, I’ll go with you,” he told you, trying to keep his annoyance out of his voice. “But why don’t we invite a friend of hers? This way she would be entertained while we spend some time alone. Come on, you owe me this much.”
It was your turn to remain silent, but it only lasted for a few seconds. “I mean, she’s dating this guy now–”
“Someone’s willing to date her?” Shit, this sentence wasn’t meant to slip out. Clearing his throat, he pinched the bridge of his nose and went, “Sorry, I mean, she didn’t seem like she was ready to date just yet.”
“I get what you mean. I don’t know much about him, maybe this could be the perfect chance to get to know him a little better. And you’re right, he could keep her company while we’re having fun on our own,” you said with a laugh. 
Despite the idea being presented for the first time a few minutes ago, Max was already thinking about this trip as the perfect chance to put his plan into motion. Because he’d been planning to take your relationship to the next level, to start a family with you. And what would be better than a proposal in another country and maybe his not so secret attempt to get you pregnant? It would be great, he knew you would be happy. 
But before he could say anything, he heard scream and a loud noise, one that sounded eerily like cars crashing and glass breaking. “What happened?” There was no answer, and he couldn’t help but sit up with his heart ready to jump out of his ribcage. “Baby, please, say something,” he begged, but there was still no response. 
Then he heard people buzzing in the background, talking loudly, screaming for help, telling someone to call the emergency number. One person who was probably close to your car told someone you weren’t moving, but they also said they couldn’t tell if you were dead. Dead. He wanted to shout, he wanted to cry, he felt like throwing up, but somehow he managed to keep his cool. Panicking wouldn’t solve anything, he had to listen for now. But your car’s multimedia system gave in and ended the call, leaving him there with his fears and thoughts. 
Max tried to call you, but no one answered, so he quickly made a few calls to ensure his jet was available the moment he got to the airport. Because the race was over, he only had one or two interviews left, but he couldn’t care less about those. After throwing his things into his backpack, he hurriedly left his room and looked for the press officer to tell her he was leaving right now. She tried to ask him what was wrong, but he just shook his head and waved goodbye, his eyes fixed on the screen as he typed in the address where your phone was at this moment. 
He found a few posts about a crash there, and one of them had a photo as well. It was your car, he knew that right away, but the sight made his heart clench. The other car t-boned yours on the left side, right where you were sitting, which made him afraid there was no way you could survive that crash. But then he found a post about the drivers being taken to the hospital, so maybe it wasn’t so bad, maybe it was just looking bad. 
Suddenly he bumped into someone, which finally made him look up from the screen of his phone. “Sorry,” he said automatically. 
Charles gave him an unimpressed look, motioning towards his phone. “What’s so interesting?”
“An accident,” he replied, having no idea why he answered the question instead of just leaving him there. This caught the other driver’s interest, because he quickly said goodbye to the person he’d been talking to and moved to his side to look at the screen of the device. “That’s my girlfriend’s car on the right.”
“This looks bad. How is she?” he asked, sounding genuinely worried despite only meeting you once. 
Max gulped and shrugged. “I don’t know. I–I was on the phone with her, then I heard a loud crash and a scream. The call ended and no one’s picking up her phone. I don’t know what’s going on, so I’ll just pack my suitcases and head to the airport to get home as soon as possible,” he said without stopping to take a breath. 
Yes, he was panicking, he was losing his cool, but that was the least of his problems right now. All he could think about was the worst case scenario, the possibility of the doctor not being able to save your life. What would he do then? How could he move on from losing you? How could he live his life without hearing your scream all the time? It was all too much, especially after a frustrating race like the one today.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when Charles put a hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes with a serious expression on his face. “Okay, take a deep breath. Are you sure you can drive like this?” For the very first time, he actually considered what he was planning to do, and after a few seconds of thinking, he came to the conclusion that he was definitely not in the right state of mind to drive, so he shook his head. “All right,” the Monegasque began slowly, looking over his shoulder for a moment, “we’ll find someone who can take care of your car, then I’ll give you a ride to the airport. How does that sound?”
It was a long day, Charles had to fight his own battles during the race, mostly with his own team, but there he was, offering to chauffeur him around so he would stay safe. A small, thankful smile crept on his lips as he nodded eventually. Maybe this was for the best, the last thing he wanted was doing something stupid because he was distracted by his fears. 
“Okay. You should get someone to pick you up when you get to Monaco, you shouldn’t drive there either,” Charles told him as they headed back to the Red Bull motorhome.
A desperate laugh left him at this. “Well, she wasn’t there, she was visiting her family, so she’s in a country where the only ones I know are her relatives, and they’re in the hospital with her. But I’ll call a taxi, it’s not a problem,” he explained with a sigh. 
A thoughtful hum from Charles caught his attention as he looked over at him. “Well, in this case I’ll have to drive you around there too,” the other man declared with a kind smile. When Max opened his mouth to tell him it was unnecessary, he just raised his hand to stop him. “I don’t take no for an answer. She’s nice. Hell, it’s easy to tell she has a good influence on you. Now I want to make sure she’s okay too.”
Max could hardly wrap his head around why he offered to help. He surely had better things to do than traveling to a country other than his home, meeting strangers who were the closest to someone he only met once, and providing emotional support to someone he’d been battling with since they were kids. This was beyond him, but he was too afraid to ask for the reason. A little voice in the back of his mind said he was planning something, but then he looked into Charles’s bright eyes and realized he was just being nice. 
They were sitting in the car on the way to the airport when his phone began to ring, and the screen lit up with the name of your mother. Gulping, he swiped his finger and raised the device to his ear. “Hi, Laura, do you know anything about her? Ho–how is she?” he asked, eagerly waiting for the older woman’s reply. 
“I guess you know about the accident then. I’m at the hospital with her. She’s still in surgery and they said it will take a few more hours before they can take her to the ICU. Do you want to come here?”
Did she really ask him if he wanted to be there? After all that time they spent together, after everything they had gone through, she dared to ask him if he wanted to be by her side? Outrageous. “I’m already on my way to the airport, I just need to know which hospital she’s in,” he replied, forcing himself to stay relatively calm. He didn’t want a fight with her, not when they were both in a very fragile state of mind. 
The woman on the other end of the line remained silent for a few seconds, then he heard muffled voices, which was followed by the sound of her clearing her throat. “I’ll send you everything you need to know.”
“Thank you. And if you hear anything, call me. Please.”
“Of course. See you later, Max.”
Once the call ended, he glanced down at his phone and waited until it buzzed again, the notification of a new message showing up. He had a location, although funnily enough, it was sent by your cousin, not your mother. It was a smaller miracle that she called him herself, a part of him expected her to make someone else do this. But at least her dislike for him became obvious once again. 
Charles glanced over at him with a questioning look on his face. “How is she?” he asked, the tone of his voice making it clear that he was walking on eggshells around him.
Max leaned his head against the seat and looked out the window. “Still in surgery, and she will probably be in there for another few hours. Even though she's probably in good hands, I'm not… It's hard to stay positive,” he admitted with a gulp.
“Maybe it will take a while, but she's gonna get better. You need to believe this, otherwise you'll go insane,” the other driver tried, his voice quiet, but confident. 
He was trying to help, and he was right, but his mind was full of thoughts about the worst case scenarios. What if you end up in a coma you don't wake up from? What if there's serious brain damage? What if you can't live the same active life you used to? He knew you would be devastated, and it's not like he would leave you for that, he just didn't know how he could handle it emotionally.
So yeah, he was already going insane. 
“Why are you doing this?” Max asked, voicing the question that had been in the back of his mind for a while now. 
Charles responded with a questioning hum, and despite the pair of sunglasses he wore, it was easy to tell he was watching him with a raised eyebrow. “Why wouldn't I? Look, maybe we're not friends outside the track, but I can imagine how hard this situation must be for you. Just accept the help for once, okay?”
After taking a deep breath, Max nodded. “Thank you.” 
The Monegasque had a smirk on his face when he returned his attention to the road. According to the sat nav, the airport was only five minutes away, so Max unlocked his phone and saw a message from Lando that told him to check X’s trending topics. When he opened the app, he saw his name at the front, and the posts were about some anonymous source leaking information about you being in the hospital. 
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath as he scrolled through the flood of posts. 
“What?”
Looking over at him, Max let out an annoyed groan. “Her accident made it to social media. From what I’ve seen so far was based on a post from someone who either works at the hospital or is a first responder. And someone kept digging until they put the pieces together, so now there’s a photo of the car wreck circling around,” he explained. 
“It’s not that bad. Unless they’re celebrating. Please, tell me they’re not celebrating.”
Max shook his head. “No, it’s not that, but whoever wrote the original post made it clear her life is hanging on a thread. So people are now getting ready for the worst case scenario.”
“Her not surviving this?” Charles guessed as he glanced over at him. When there was a quiet nod in response, he gulped and looked back at the road. “She won’t die. Don’t even think about it. She’s young and strong, and I’m sure she’s a fighter. Okay, we’re here.”
For the first time in a while Max looked up and noticed they had indeed arrived. After getting their suitcases, they got on the jet and sat down to wait for the takeoff. During the flight Charles tried to avert his thoughts by talking about the race and bringing up old memories from their carting days, and Max realized that he had absolutely no idea how he would say thank you for his help. 
For years he assumed their long history of rivalry meant they could never be friends, and their conversations would be nothing but casual chats based on mutual respect. But now he was here, providing the kind of emotional support he so desperately needed. 
Two hours later they entered the hospital building through a big crowd of paparazzi, reporters and fans, trying to navigate through the maze to find where your family was waiting. It took some time, but eventually they found them. Your cousin was the only one who jumped up and ran over to him, her arms sneaking around his body to pull him into a hug as she cried. The poor girl was only sixteen, and despite the age difference you two were the closest, as if you were siblings. His eyes fell on your mother, but she was simply staring ahead with a neutral look in her eyes. 
Charles decided to sit down not far from them, sending a message to his girlfriend so she would know where he was, but Max knew he was paying attention. “Any news?” he asked Sophie, your cousin.
“Yeah, she’s in the ICU, just until they know she’s really stable. She has a badly broken leg, a few broken ribs, one even punctured her lung, and… Yeah, severe concussion, and I think there’s a fracture in her cheek.”
Max gulped as his fingers ran through his hair. “That’s a lot,” he noted, earning a nod. “But she’s relatively okay, right?”
“You can say that,” your mother suddenly spoke up, finally acknowledging him. 
For a few moments they were just staring at each other, and Max was beginning to think she would start blaming him for the accident. Even if she didn’t know about the call they were in at the time, she would sure as hell find a reason to put the blame on him. She always did, whenever you had a bad day, it was surely his fault, even when you weren’t even in the same country.
But to his surprise, that’s not what happened, because she suddenly walked over to him and pulled him into a tight hug. He didn’t even know what to do at first, his eyes were moving back and forth between Sophie and Charles, but they both shrugged to tell him they had no clue what he should do. So he wrapped his arms around her too, soon hearing her crying into his shoulder. 
“I’m glad you’re here, Max,” she said when she took a step back and looked up at him. “I had my doubts, but… Knowing you rushed here after finding out what happened means a lot to me.”
With a sad smile, he nodded. “Where else would I be? I–I don’t know if you knew, but I was on the phone with her when the accident happened. She told me about the trip to New Zealand you’re planning, she was trying to convince me to go with you, and… Would you mind if I tagged along?” he asked, as if he needed her permission. 
But maybe he did. Maybe this hug was the olive branch he’d been hoping to receive one day, the least he could do was make sure she was okay with the plan. And maybe him going with you wasn’t the only thing he should talk to her about, maybe he should mention the most obvious decision he had made during that call. When she said she wouldn’t mind if she joined them, Max took a deep breath, then cleared his throat. 
“There’s something else. I’m planning to propose on New Year’s Eve. A few hours ago I thought your opinion was irrelevant and it’s her decision, but… now I’d like to hear what you have to say. Would you be okay with it?” he asked hesitantly, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to another.
Your mother’s lips curled into a smile all of a sudden, then he reached out to take his hand in hers. “I’m sure that would make her really happy. And if she’s happy, I’m happy. You know what? My idiotic ex-husband used our family heirloom, a beautiful engagement ring, to propose. How about giving that to her?”
“Are you sure?” She nodded without hesitation. “Thank you, that would be great.”
Since the doctor said they would tell them when they could go and see you, Max sat down next to Charles and waited there in silence. The other driver glanced up from his phone every now and then, but eventually he had enough of the silence and decided to pay full attention to him. 
“You okay?” 
He honestly didn’t know the answer to this simple question. You were alive, your mother gave him her blessing, what else would he need? Still, he couldn’t get himself to say yes. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. 
Charles nodded as he supportively patted his back. “I’m sure you’ll be better once you see her,” he noted with a small smile. “You heard her mother, the worst part is over, now all she needs is time to recover.”
And that was a problem he had to solve. He knew your mother would be more than happy to help you, he could hire a live-in nurse to take care of you, he could send you to the best rehabilitation facility in Europe, but nothing would make him feel good enough if he couldn’t be there by your side. Because he still had half a season left, he was expected to travel around the world, away from you, and the thought was killing him. 
“Without me,” he eventually said, so quietly that he hoped Charles didn’t catch it.
But he did, and he clearly understood what was bothering him. “I know it’s hard, but she will understand that you can’t be by her side all the time. Once the season’s over, she won’t get rid of you,” he said with a laugh, nudging his side with his elbow. “Come on, let’s get some coffee. We could all use it.”
Max nodded, and as Charles took the orders, he asked Sophie if she would like to come help them. He knew she was a traitor who supported his rival, but she was young and nice, so he chalked it up to teenage stupidity for now. While they waited for the coffees, Charles and Sophie got lost in a conversation that was conveniently in French “so she could practice.” They seemed to get along, and he was glad your cousin had a reason to smile for a while.
This is why he spent this time checking his phone and found a bunch of messages from friends and family, all telling him that they were there if he needed help. Knowing so many people cared about them warmed his heart. It was mostly you, he knew that, your charming personality had everyone wrapped around your finger. This gave him the idea to send a message to his mother and sister, telling them he would propose the moment you were feeling well enough to make a decision. 
A few hours later Charles said goodbye and promised to be back the next day, and soon your family left as well. Your mother wanted to stay, but Max promised to call her if there was anything to know. So he slept on the couch in the waiting room, ignoring the weird look some people gave him the whole evening. A nurse was nice enough to bring him a pillow that made it a bit more bearable, but he wished you could be transferred to a regular room where he could ask for a bed to sleep in next to you. 
In the morning a doctor gently squeezed his shoulder to wake him up, and he groggily rubbed his eyes as he sat up. “Morning, Doctor,” he said, trying hard to fight back a yawn. “Did something happen?”
The man sat down next to him and turned to him with a small smile. “She’s ready to be taken to a normal hospital room. You mentioned to our staff yesterday that you want her to be placed in the VIP section, preferably with an extra bed for you, so we took care of everything. I can walk you there if you’d like,” he offered. 
“Sure, sure, thank you. How is she?”
“A little better. She’s strong, she’s breathing on her own, so I’m confident she’ll pull through. Just be patient,” the doctor replied. 
Once he was in the new room you were being taken to, he sent a text to everyone about your new location, then impatiently waited for your bed to be wheeled in. His foot was tapping fast on the linoleum floor, not stopping until the door opened and a young man stood there with a shocked look on his face. Max raised his hand to say hi, to which the poor man only reacted by going out to continue his work to get you inside. 
A nurse walked in behind him with a kind smile on her lips, then moved her attention back to you as she got you settled in the room. He wanted to go there and take your hand, but he knew he had to wait. He would have time, there was no need to rush, they had to do their job first. You were hooked on machines, your body bandaged all over, and the sight brought tears to his eyes. If he didn’t know you were through the worst part, he would assume you were still between life and death. 
Soon everybody left and he sat on a chair next to your bed, gently taking your hand in his. He had no idea if you could hear him, but he talked to you nonetheless, telling you about him making peace with your mother, about Charles being here with him, about your whole family being here, and about how much he loved you. He even begged you to wake up, to come back to him. 
“Good morning,” came Charles’ voice about an hour later as he walked inside with two cups of coffee, from which he handed one over. “Here, I guess you could use it.”
With a thankful smile, Max took it, then leaned back in the chair and watched as the other man looked down at you with a sigh. “The doctor said she’ll pull through, she just needs to rest,” he told him.
The fellow driver looked up with a smile. “See? I told you.” He sat down on the edge of the other bed and took a sip of his coffee. “Your suitcase is in the back of the car. I didn’t know which hotel you wanted to stay in,” he added.
“Neither. I’m staying with her,” Max was quick to clarify. 
“Yeah, but you need to take a shower, you need to sleep.”
“There’s a bathroom and you’re sitting on my bed. I’ll be fine.”
Charles followed his gaze and let out a tired groan. “She wouldn’t mind if you left for a few hours. Look, why don’t you talk to her mother to take shifts by her side? I’m sure she would understand that you need proper sleep,” he explained, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. 
Silence followed his words, mostly because Max didn’t feel like arguing about this. He was here to stay, by your side, right until he had no choice but to leave for the next race. “If it was Alex, would you leave her side?” he eventually asked. 
“No,” came the response right away. “I probably wouldn’t.” After sipping their drinks in silence, the Monegasque stood up at one point and threw his now empty cup into the trash can, and turned to him. “Okay, I’ll go get your suitcase so you can freshen up before her family arrives. And Laura is bringing us breakfast, so you’d better look presentable by the time she gets here.”
“Laura? Since when are you on first name terms with her?”
The other man laughed and shrugged. “Since I took the time to have a chat with her yesterday. All right, let’s get you cleaned up.”
For the next few days, this is how things went. Charles was always the first to arrive, then he left to get lunch, and stayed until four or five in the afternoon. Max had told him to go home, that he would be fine now, but he didn’t care about this. He said he wanted to be there, at least until you finally woke up so he could tell you that almost dying just to get an emotional reaction out of your boyfriend was an overkill. And maybe he mentioned one day that Alex would stop talking to him for a few days if he left him alone, so he decided to be a good boy. 
One night he was woken by a strange sound coming from you, as if you were trying to speak up. Ever since you were brought in, he became a light sleeper, so he immediately picked up on the change in the atmosphere of the room. He turned on the light above his bed and moved over to you, his hand falling on your face right away, thumb gently brushing your cheek.
“Hey, baby,” he said as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I’m here. What do you need?”
Your eyes turned to him, immediately locking with his blue ones, as you registered that it was truly him. Your fingers squeezed his hand, the feeling of you being awake making him smile. “Can I… get some… water?” you asked hoarsely. 
He immediately reached out for the glass and filled it from the bottle next to it. He helped to put the end of the straw in your mouth and held the glass for you. “I’m so glad you’re finally awake. You almost got me worried,” he explained. 
“How long…?”
“Five days. How are you? Does anything hurt? Should I get a doctor? I should get a doctor, right? Yeah, you just–” 
He only stopped talking because you gave him a tired look and laced your fingers with his. “Max, relax... It’s fine,” you said weakly. “I need a minute… before you call them.”
You didn’t want to talk, you just wanted to be there with him, holding hands while your brain caught up. But eventually he apologized and left to find a nurse, because he was too afraid that something would go wrong if he waited too long. He needed confirmation that you were okay, that it was safe to let you talk, to touch you, to kiss you. He wanted to know when and what you could eat, when he could bring you your favorite coffee. His brain was in overdrive, but he didn’t mind. 
Not when he finally had you back. 
The next morning he was sitting by your side, having a conversation with you about something trivial. Speaking went well now, the soreness in your throat quickly faded with practice. Sure, you still weren’t a hundred percent, but it was much better than what he heard in the middle of the night. He told you what happened, he told you everything he had mentioned while you were unconscious, and your conversation went so well that he didn’t even notice Charles coming in. 
“You’re awake!” the Monegasque said with a bright smile as he handed the usual cup to Max. “How are you feeling?”
You returned his smile, but when you tried to take a deep breath, you couldn’t help but wince. “My ribs hurt like hell when I breathe or talk too much,” you replied. “Thank you for staying with him.”
Charles looked over at Max, then his eyes returned to you. “I’m staying by his side because I don’t want my girlfriend to kick me out.”
After all those days it was hard to tell if he was serious, or if he was just saying this to hide the fact their relationship did change lately. Max surprised himself, because he wanted to believe it was the latter. His gaze returned to you, choosing to stay out of your conversation for now. 
“Still,” you began, but fell silent when you looked over at your boyfriend. “Why can’t you be like Charles?” He gave you a confused look, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed the other driver’s evergrowing smile. “He gets proper sleep. He shaves. He doesn’t live in a hospital room,” you added with a stern look. 
Shaking his head, Max placed a kiss on your temple. “I’m not leaving you. Don’t even think about it.”
“But she’s right,” Charles told him with a shit-eating grin. 
“Go to hell,” Max told him with a roll of his eyes.
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artemismatchalatte · 2 years
Text
Okay, so I came out on here and I really want to tell my best friend irl. She still thinks I’m bi because I didn’t tell her yet that I’m pretty sure I’m a lesbian.  
She’s also a lesbian and she’s married and I respect that. 
Her wife already acts kind of weird around me and I don’t want to make it worse. My coming out to them as lesbian instead of bisexual would make it worse. I’m sure it would. 
So now I feel like I can’t tell my friend, even though I really want to. Because I don’t want to cause an issue.
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sailorrhansol · 3 months
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Blood & Popcorn | l.c (m)
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❀ Pairing: Lee Chan x f. Reader 
❀ Summary: Fridays are reserved for watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and stuffing your face with popcorn and pizza. It’s been like that for you and Chan since your freshman year of college. But when he skips your Blood and Popcorn night for a date, things take an unexpected turn. 
❀ Word Count: 11,315
❀ Genre: Friends to Lovers, Angst, Fluff
❀ Type: Smut 
❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
❀ Warnings: Literally so much misunderstanding and repressed feelings, pining, light themes of jealousy, recreational drinking, recreational weed use, bad communication skills, some mild insecurities, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex (do not do this lmaooo), nipple stim, light teasing, oral (f. receiving), clumsy/playful sex, jokes/banter while fucking. They’re both down horrendous. Joshua as an almost love interest. Jeonghan is both terrible and great at advice. Alternating POVs and some time skips. 
❀ A/N: This is another work coming from a conversation with @daechwitatamic who at this point, I think had been the driving force behind all three random one shots I’ve written. I apparently can’t say no when she asks for something :) so anyway, here is simp Lee Chan and simp reader because ???? And yes I'm posting this at 11:30 pm at night who cares there are no rules!!!!!!!!
❀ A/N 2: Also thank you to Jo for reading this before hand because it would be otherwise largely illegible. King Julian is on the way, bestie.   
❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.
Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀ Read Next: Still Watching?
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“So why not Blood and Pizza if pizza is always involved but popcorn isn’t?” Mingyu eyes the french fries on your plate. You give him a warning glance, pointing the sharp tines of your fork at him. He retreats, leaning against the cracked vinyl of the booth, pouting. “Also, the title sounds gross.”
“Good thing it has nothing to do with you then.” 
“Wow, you’re not even going to invite me?” 
“No,” you chirp, popping a shoestring fry into your mouth. You savor the saltiness, humming delightedly. “It’s for me and Chan. Not me, Chan and you. Plus, you know nothing about Buffy.” 
“Isn’t that a magic dragon? And are you sure you two aren’t dating?” 
The look you send Mingyu makes him hold up his hands in surrender. It isn’t the first time someone has asked if you and Chan are dating, and you know it won’t be the last. You don’t want to start down that avenue tonight, trying to navigate the questions of why and well you seem to be a good match. 
If romantic relationships were started over simply having things in common and matching a vibe, you and Chan would have started dating a long time ago. But you’re not, and you’ve already gotten over the fact that you’re not dating and that you will not start dating.
Mostly. 
The bell rings above the diner door, drawing your attention. Like he’s been manifested by Mingyu’s dangerous question, Chan spots you and lifts a hand, a smile splitting his face as he heads over. You scoot over in the booth, dragging your plate along with you to make room for him. 
Chan is dressed in jeans and a green sweater, your favorite color on him. He sits down next to you, cushioned seat dipping a little as he leans over to kiss the top of your head and steal fries off of your plate. You let him, feeling heat flush up the side of your neck as you look anywhere but Mingyu’s accusatory stare.
“These are so good,” Chan says around a mouthful of fries. “Thanks, Bambi.”
You grin at the nickname, trying not to flush too hard. 
“I wouldn’t know,” Mingyu says pointedly. You ignore him, shoving your burger in your mouth. “Apparently I’m not allowed fries or to attend your movie night.”
“Order your own fries,” Chan says. 
“Ugh. I already ate mine.”
“So order more, idiot. And of course you’re not invited to Blood and Popcorn. That’s our thing.” 
Our thing. 
The corner of your mouth twitches as you glance at Chan. He doesn’t notice, catching the eyes of the server and waving happily, giving her a broad smile. She gives him a thumbs up in return, confirming she’ll put in his usual now that he’s there. 
There are a lot of things that belong to you and Chan. Studying at the very diner you were sitting in during freshman year had been one of them, though now in your final year there’s not as much of a need to study and you’ve incorporated other friends in your late night trips for grease and calories. 
You also shared trivia nights on Tuesdays with Vernon and Seungkwan, football Sundays with Seungcheol, Mingyu and Jeonghan, once a month family dinners with everyone, and most importantly, Blood and Popcorn. 
Chan steals another fry off of your plate and you let him, leaning back in the booth. Mingyu glares daggers at you, dark eyes flicking from your plate, to you, to Chan. You grin around a mouthful of cheeseburger and he scoffs before looking away. 
Behind you, Chan’s arm stretches across the back of the booth, just barely brushing against the top of your shoulders. Your stomach flips a little, momentarily elated at the contact before you swallow it down with Sprite, pretending it wasn’t there in the first place. 
The two boys immediately fall into a conversation about their shared engineering class. You tune it out easily, a learned habit over the last four years of having to listen to Chan tell you the functions of a bridge and the best way to design one. Instead, you focus on the rise and fall of Chan’s soft voice and the way it lulls you into a state of calm. 
When the server brings over his order, he pulls his arm from over the back of the seat. Immediately you snatch one of the onion rings from his basket, popping one into your mouth and hissing as the crispy snack burns you. He shakes his head, laughing as he gives you a napkin while you sputter.
“Careful, Bambi,” he murmurs. “They’re literally steaming.” 
Mingyu reaches for an onion ring, only to be threatened with the blunt end of Chan’s steak knife. “Don’t even think about it.”
“But she-”
“Bambi has special privileges,” Chan quips. “Order yourself some more fries for the love of God. I’ll pay for them.” 
Mingyu immediately stops whining, mood improving markedly as he orders fries, wiggling in his seat happily. Chan cuts his burger in half, asking, “Why were you talking about Blood and Popcorn anyway?” 
“Shua asked Bambi out on a date,” Mingyu answers around a mouthful of fries. “She told him she couldn’t go because of Blood and Popcorn.”
Chan stops eating and looks at you, brows creasing. You feel your heart rate speed up as you kick Mingyu under the table. He yelps, knee jerking upward to slam against the underside of the table. The salt and pepper shakers rattle in place as Mingyu bends over to rub his shin. 
“He didn’t ask me out on a date.”
“He asked you to dinner!”
“As friends!”
“Oh yeah,” Mingyu snorts, rolling his eyes. “Friends take friends to fucking prime steakhouses. He asked you out on a date.” 
For a moment, silence envelops the table. You stare at your fries, watching Chan out of your periphery. He looks away from you, wiping the grease from his fingers onto the napkin. The air feels pregnant with tension suddenly, your anxiety bubbling as you open your mouth to assert once more it wasn’t a date.
Chan beats you to breaking the silence, “We can skip this Friday so you can go!”
You open and close your mouth a few times, heart dropping to your ass. “What?”
“It’s totally fine if we have to skip. I don’t mind.” 
Chan picks his burger back up, not looking at you. Heart pounding in your chest, you can’t help but watch him in total silence, trying to string together a response. Sure, maybe Chan doesn’t mind if you miss your weekly solo hangout. But you care. 
The ache of the implication cuts you suddenly, a delayed reaction. You feel your throat tighten painfully, reaching for your Sprite to try and swallow past the sudden tension. It does nothing to quell the way the casual dismissal of your tradition keeps cutting you long after he’s said the words, sawing down to the bone. 
“I wasn’t aware that we could just skip Blood and Popcorn, I guess.” 
“I mean if you’ve got a date.” 
That’s not the point, you want to scream at him. 
Chan is a lot of things. Perceptive isn’t one of them. If he had been, you know he would have sniffed out your feelings for him a long time ago. Luckily for you, he’s remained completely oblivious over the last four years of your friendship, and you like to keep it that way. Keep it safe. 
Nothing ruins a friendship more than unrequited romance. You know that from more than just the media you consume - you’ve seen more than once first hand when one friend catches feelings for the others but the desire isn’t mutual. 
It isn’t mutual here. It’s always been very clear where Chan’s interests lie, and you’re totally fine with that. You accept the relationship that you have happily and quietly, and thought moments like are a brutal reminder of where you stand, it’s alright because you also love your friendship. More than you love him - at least, you think so. 
So when Chan so easily suggests to go on a date, to cancel your thing with him to accommodate, you know it isn’t because he doesn’t care. He just thinks that you should go on a date because it doesn’t occur to him that the real reason you don’t want to is because your interests are somewhere else. That you don’t want to cancel Blood and Popcorn because it’s for the two of you and no one else. 
“Yeah,” you rasp, unsure what else to say. “Um, maybe.” 
“Shua is a good guy.” 
“Yeah. Yeah he is.” 
Mingyu and Chan go back to their conversation about class. You finish your meal in silence, leaning back against the seat as your thoughts wander listlessly. You gaze around the diner, drinking in detail as their conversation becomes background noise and you can no longer understand what they’re saying. 
Rounders Diner had been a staple in the college community long before you were born, and continues to be the center for academic life. Students fill the booths sipping on milkshakes as they cram for exams or homework, night shift workers sit at the countertop and order coffee before heading to work, and the jukebox in the corner glows neon, only offering a selection of music from the 50s. 
Behind the countertop is an open scratch kitchen, the sound of sizzling grease and yelled orders bracketing an Elvis song you know the words to but don’t know the name of. Black and white tile flooring with years worth of scuffs reflect the canned lighting in the ceiling. Over near the entrance is a wall covered in pictures of students of note throughout the years. 
You remember the first time Chan had hauled you to Rounders. It was the first day you’d met, two freshmen absolutely terrified of the world after experiencing two back to back intro courses together. The dining hall was on the opposite side of campus from your classes, but Chan had insisted there was a diner just off the corner that everyone said was a necessary experience. 
He was the first real friend you made. Your roommates had become your best friends too, Lorna and Mai splashed across almost every memory you have of college. But that first day is only colored with Chan, who had slid into the seat across from you and looked around the diner with a bright grin like he was suddenly at home. 
Wanna start coming here after class? 
You did. And you had. 
A hand waves in front of your face, making you blink several times before Chan’s face swims into focus. Your thoughts are a little delayed as you drink him in: dark hair framing dark, angular eyes that turn molten brown when the sun hits them just right, a jawline that has turned sharper as he’s aged, though his cheeks still have a youthful softness that you adore, and a grin that makes the world dim. 
“What?” you ask him, totally at a loss for words. 
He laughs and you feel the corners of your lips turn upward, an automatic response to his mirth. “I asked if you were ready to go.” 
You look up to see Mingyu at the register, passing over the bill and a card. “I think I spaced out. I thought you were buying him fries?”
He snorts. “Never fear, it’s my card. Everything okay?” 
You hesitate. Not for the first time, the urge to spill your guts to him grips you so forcefully that you almost do right in the middle of Rounders. Almost tell him everything from start to finish, the feelings, the reason you don’t want to date Joshua, how beautiful you think Chan is-
Mingyu starts heading back and you force a grin on your face, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Of course. A little tired, though. Thanks for dinner.” 
“You know I’ve got you.” He gets up from the booth and holds his hand out to you. “Always.” 
-
Chan is the stupidest fucking person he knows. He lets out a loud scream into the warmth of his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut as he lays face down in his bed. His arms are shoved under the pillow, fisting in his sheets as the long-winded scream finally begins to die out. 
“Yes, that is healthy,” Seungkwan calls from Chan’s desk against the window. “Let the pillow know everything that you’re feeling.” 
Scowling, Chan lifts his head up and looks over his shoulder at where Seungkwan is sitting. His roommate is hunched over Chan’s laptop, a document open on the screen as he clicks around rapidly, cursing under his breath. 
“Why are you in here again?”
“My literature professor is a dinosaur,” Seungkwan answers. “And only accepts printed essay submissions.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“No, I mean you don’t have your own printer?” 
“No, and I will not be paying thirty cents a paper for an essay that is almost thirty pages long.” 
“That’s like, nine dollars dude. Also, why is your essay thirty pages long?”
“Ask the dude who wrote Beowulf.” 
“Isn’t that like… a movie?” 
Seungkwan mutters something under his breath. The printer chimes, followed by a mechanic whirring as the paper feeds into the machine and starts printing. Spinning in the chair, Seungkwan looks at where Chan is still laying stomach down, face squished against his pillow as he cradles it. 
“Speaking of movies - are you having Blood and Popcorn here or at Bambi’s?” 
Chan can’t help but smirk at the nickname. It had stuck ever since your freshman year when you’d called Rin Hartford a bambi-eyed bitch for saying nasty things to Mingyu. He thinks that night might be the night he realized he was absolutely head over heels for you, even if he had only known you for two weeks then. 
Despite your quiet disposition, you’ve always been the epitome of bravery. He can’t recall a time that you haven’t said what you meant or meant what you said, and defending your friends and speaking up has always been paramount to you. 
For someone like Chan who was often the youngest and the softest spoken in any group he was in, you were a breath of fresh air. And you’ve taught him to speak up for himself, letting him grow comfortable pushing back with people - especially his friends - and how to give back what he gets. 
Corrupted, Seungcheol joked once. She corrupted him and taught him how to bully us back. 
“I’m not really sure,” Chan says slowly, thinking about your conversation at the diner, the exact source of his pillow-scream. “We might not be doing it.”
“Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?”
“There is no paradise. We’re just friends.” 
“That’s the trouble I’m talking about, brother.” Seungkwan turns around to start collecting the pages out of the printer. “Is the Blood and Popcorn cancellation the reason for your pillow screaming?” 
“I don’t know that it’s canceled.” 
“That really clarifies the issue.”
Chan scowls. “Did you know Shua was into her?” 
“Uh, yeah.”
“He asked her on a date.”
“Joshua must have got tired of waiting for you to make a move on Bambi. I guess he decided you weren’t going to.” 
Chan frowns and sits up. He didn’t realize Joshua remotely had a thing for you, and while Chan adores the older member of their larger friend group, the thought of him taking you to dinner - a date - makes his stomach tighten. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Seungkwan clarifies. “That you have had the last four years to nut up or shut up. Everyone has waited for you to make your move on Bambi and you haven’t. If you’re not going to do it, someone else might as well.” 
“I mean, anyone could ask her out. It’s not like I have-”
“Don’t you dare say you didn’t have dibs. Dibs can be unspoken, Chan. You’ve been in love with that girl since freshman year, if you think people - especially our friends - cannot tell and don’t respect you enough to give you time to ask her out, you need to wake up.” 
“It’s that obvious?” 
“Not to her, clearly.” Seungkwan stands and grins at Chan placidly, his essay collected in his hands. “Fortunately for you, the only person who is as dumb as you are is Bambi. Match made in heaven, really.” 
Chan chews his bottom lip. That offers a little bit of relief. He doesn’t like knowing that his feelings are so obvious to everyone else, but at least you don’t know. He cannot imagine how uncomfortable it would make your friendship dynamic knowing he was mooning over you while you just saw him as a friend. 
“Well, she doesn’t feel that way about me. I’m not going to confess my unrequited feelings and put her in that position to deal with them. It wouldn’t be fair.” 
Seungkwan gives Chan a slow blink, smile turning plastic. “Like I said. Match made in heaven.” 
Heaving a sigh, Chan throws himself on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Chan was certainly an idiot for a lot of reasons, but the biggest reason has to be the way he has let his feelings for you fester since freshman year. Instead of implementing preventative maintenance, he’s let the problem grow to the point that his friends are no longer waiting for him to do something about it. 
The window of opportunity is gone. 
Not that there was a window of opportunity to begin with. Chan has seen what it looks like when you’re interested in guys - dazed eyes, a little flustered, a tiny grin on your face. You’ve never looked at him that way. At least, not really like that. You smile at him all the time, but it’s different. 
If he had the slightest indication you looked at him like you were interested, he’d have spilled his feelings a long time ago. Hiding this from you feels almost like a violation of friendship, but in order to preserve the friendship and keep you comfortable, he does what he must. 
The memory of him telling you to go on a date with Joshua makes him  groan in embarrassment. He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, seeing stars explode behind his lids. It had been a knee jerk response, something to distract you from the immediate jealousy and panic he’d felt that moment that Mingyu had dropped that bit of information at the table.
Mingyu. That motherfucker did it on purpose - not to rile Chan, but to try and  give him a kick in the ass toward the right direction. But like everyone else, Mingyu doesn’t get it. If Chan told you how he felt just to get it off of his chest, it would be putting his burden on you. You’d be the one who had to feel guilty for it being unrequited, you’d be the one who would inevitably feel uncomfortable or out of place. 
No. It would be the highest form of selfishness he can think of, offloading the heavy weight of his feelings just to give them to you as a reprieve from carrying them around so long. 
Chan blinks away the swimming colors, staring up at the popcorn ceiling of his bedroom again. He can hear Seungkwan singing somewhere in the apartment, liquid voice calming even in Chan’s mild state of distress. 
Joshua is a good guy. Honestly, there are only a few guys that Chan knows who would make a suitable partner for you, and he begrudgingly acknowledges that Joshua is at the top of that list. And yet he still feels a twist of self-loathing that he had pushed you so quickly towards it, the regret like bile in his stomach. 
The last thing Chan wants to do is skip Blood and Popcorn this week. It is the one guaranteed day of uninterrupted time with you, and he waved it away like it meant nothing to him, which could not be farther from the truth. The nights of watching Buffy and eating pizza and sometimes popcorn mean everything to him. 
He just wishes he had been brave enough to stand his ground. 
-
Maybe Joshua Hong is the worst person ever. Chan dismisses the irrational thought as soon as he has it. Joshua isn’t awful at all. It’s just that he’s leaning in toward you and saying something into your ear over the loud din of the party, and Chan watches the way you nod. 
Crack. The plastic cup in his hand splits and immediately spills rum and coke all over the kitchen floor. Jeonghan starts yelling at him, ripping paper towels off of the roll and throwing them in Chan’s direction. He mutters an apology, gaze drifting over the kitchen counter to the living room where you’re laughing, head tilted back, warm light splaying across your throat-
“Ya! Don’t just let it pool at your feet!”
Jeonghan’s screech brings Chan back to life. He snatches the copious amounts of paper towels Jeonghan has thrown at him and starts to soak up the drink. The tile floor is already sticky and Chan cringes. No way have either Jeonghang or Seungcheol cleaned this floor any time recently. If anything, Chan has done it a favor. 
The party is in full swing around him. He stands up with the soaked paper in his hand, tossing it into the trash and grabbing more while Jeonghan digs underneath the counter. Chan finishes soaking up the spilled drink and comes eye to eye with a new set of paper towels and spray cleaner. 
Chan gives Jeonghan the soaked papers. “Jeonghan, your floor is already disgusting.”
“Then you should have no problem cleaning it!” 
“Sure, Mom.” 
“Don’t call me that!”
He rolls his eyes but does what Jeonghan says, spraying the area quickly and pressing down the paper towels. They come away sticky and black, making him cringe in disgust before tossing them out and washing his hands. As he turns off the faucet, Jeonghan has the decency to hand him a new drink.
Chan takes it without comment, the image of Joshua leaning into you a little too much for him to deal with right now. He drains the cup, sputtering a little. Jeonghan is a heavy pour and the spiced rum goes down rough, his eyes tearing just a little as he finishes the drink. 
“Well, that’s one way to stop from spilling.” Chan shoots Jeonghan a look before reaching for the mixer and handle of rum again. “You do normally drink like a fish, but anything in particular driving tonight’s thirst?” 
“Nope.”
“Right, so it’s not tall, dark and handsome hanging out with Bambi?”
Chan feels his eye twitch as he heavily pours the liquor into his cup. “Nope. And Joshua isn’t even that tall.” 
“Taller than you.” Chan shoots Jeonghan a venomous look. His face is beatific, grin a little bit dangerous as he holds his hands up in a white flag. “You look pretty bothered. If only there were a way to fix that.” Chan looks at Jeonghan with wide eyes, hope surging for a moment. “Just tell her you like her.” 
“Why is that the only advice any of you have?”
“Because it’s the only advice I have. Either tell her or get over your feelings. Those are your options.” 
“And I’ve already told you, it would just make her uncomfortable. It’s not her burden to bear.” 
Jeongan taps his fingers on the countertop, studying Chan. Chan pouts into his cup, taking long draughts, trying not to cringe at the strong taste. He can already sense the oncoming buzz and he welcomes it, needing a little something to distract him from the obvious elephant in the living room. 
“Alright,” Jeognhan relents. “Then deal with the consequences and get over your feelings.” 
And he will. Chan has always been good at dealing with the repercussions of hiding his feelings, and he does them well. So he tips back the cup and rejoins the party, nerves steeled and ready to deal with the consequences like his friends keep telling him to. 
-
“What?” you asked, lifting your voice to be heard over the rowdy game of cards at the coffee table. Joshua had asked you something but the words had been lost on you as your gaze drifted to Chan where he was leaning against the wall, talking to a girl you didn’t know. He was leaning awfully close. “I didn’t catch that.” 
Joshua smiles. He really is handsome, and everything someone could want in a partner. He’s kind and gentle, has a little bit of an insane streak, and he is incredibly intelligent and loyal. So why do you feel nothing when he grins at you or laughs? 
Your eyes drift over to Chan again and you feel your stomach flip. The alcohol turns to lead. The girl Chan is speaking to is so close to him, both of them turned toward one another as he ducks his head down to say something to her. She laughs and he smiles, looking her up and down.
Jealousy swallows you whole. It roars so loudly in your ears that you almost miss Joshua’s question again. “Did you give any thoughts about dinner on Friday?” 
Dinner? Friday? Oh right. He had asked you to dinner on Friday, but you’d declined due to your planned Blood and Popcorn night. With Chan. Who is flirting with the girl next to him, who is flirting back. 
The jealousy feels like a raw, rotten thing. It turns the alcohol in your stomach sour, makes the sweat on the back of your neck feel too much, like the room is too loud and too full. Even as the envy rears its head, an ugly beast ready to unleash, you turn to Joshua and say, “I really can’t. Friday nights are really important to me.” 
Joshua looks disappointed, but he’s polite enough to nod and smile. “I understand. Maybe a different night?”
“Um, maybe. Would you excuse me? I really need some air.” 
You stand abruptly, starling the people next to you. The cup in your hand shakes a little and your throat constricts and oh god. You cannot cry in the middle of a party just because you’re a little buzzed and the boy you like is across the room with another girl. 
“Do you want me to-”
“No!” You quip, shaking your head. “Totally fine, I’m so fine, I just need some air. Please! Sit! Stay!” 
Joshua raises his eyebrows at your frantic commands and you give a laugh that is a little on the hysterical side as you step over the legs of people sitting on the floor and on the couch. Joshua calls after you as you make the escape but you don’t turn around, eager to get out of the room. 
You trip over someone’s foot and nearly launch into a passerby as you go. Strong hands steady you before you totally topple over, though your drink sloshes over the edge of your cup, spilling it on the carpet. 
“What is it with you and your other half?” You look up to realize that it’s Jeonghan who stabilized you. “Spilling drinks all over my damn floor!”
“It probably helps. Your floors are disgusting.”
“Ya! That’s beside the point - why do you look like you’re about to die?”
“I feel like I might. I need fresh air.”  For a moment, Jeonghan looks confused. You watch his dark brows pull together and he looks over your head, dark gaze scanning for something. For Chan, you realize. It’s usually Chan who leaves with you if you need air or need to stick your head in a bucket to vomit. The realization hits you like a brick. “Not him,” you whisper. “I’m fine.” 
Your words land at the same time Jeonghan focuses in the direction you’d last seen Chan. He holds you there, suspended in time for a moment as his eyes dart between you and back to where you know Chan is still leaning against the wall. 
There is a flicker of something that you cannot place in Jeonghan’s gaze before it softens and he nods. He pulls you toward him and helps guide you around the groups of people. “Fresh air it is.”
“You don’t have to come.”
“I don’t know, crying alone is kind of lame, Bambi.”
Cool air hits you the second you step onto the porch. Soonyoung is sitting on the railing with Jihoon and Vernon leaning next to him. He waves enthusiastically when he sees you, breaking out into a grin and lifting the joint between his fingers, an offer. You shake your head and he shrugs, passing it to Vernon who lifts a hand in salute. 
The smell of weed chases you down the grass slope of Jeonghan’s backyard. It’s not so much a backyard as it is open to the apartment community’s lake. The spray of the fountain grows louder as the sounds of the party fade. 
Jeonghan sits down in the grass, leaning back on his hands. You join him, cringing at the dampness from the dewey grass. Taking in a deep breath you close your eyes and lean your head back, letting the wind cool the sweat on your overheated skin. The breeze mists the fountain, tiny specks of water tingling on your face as you sit in silence. 
Behind your lids, you can see the image of Chan leaning in toward that girl. The intimacy of the space. You hate how you can recall it in such detail - you’d always been able to remember details where Chan was involved. Like the way he was wearing a black, long-sleeved tee that pulled against his chest and arms perfectly, or the way the necklace you bought him two years ago glinted in the light of the living room, or the way-
“I did it to myself, huh?” you ask, feeling the first tear collect on your lash line. You tilt your head upward, trying to blink it rapidly away. “I could have just told him a while ago.” 
“Well, I don’t think you’re entirely responsible,” Jeonghan mutters. “Look, putting your heart on your sleeve is really scary, especially when it’s to someone you really value. But you have to decide what to do. You can either tell Chan you love him or you can decide to get over it. You can’t cling to unspoken feelings, though.”
“I just… I don't feel like he returns the feelings and I don’t want to ruin what we have.”
“Then get over him.” You snap your gaze at Jeonghan, who is looking at you with the cool and calm you wish you felt. “If you’re unwilling to be honest with him, then your option is to get over it.” 
“Do you think he would… react poorly?”
“Of course not, but I will not speak to all of Chan’s feelings. Those are his to share, not mine, and I believe in the sanctity of acting on one’s own.”
“You sound so… saintly.”
“Dealing with all your problems has turned me into a saint. Do you know what it’s like being therapy to all of these damn people? You all take ‘door open’ a little too seriously.”
You laugh, feeling a little lighter. Pulling at the grass, you sigh. “You’re right, though. I either need to just tell him or let it go. I can’t just… suffer.”
“If only you’d come to that conclusion a while ago.”
“Bleh.” 
Fresh air and the weight of Jeonghan’s words weigh down on you. You know that he’s right. Though you’re confident that Chan doesn’t return your feelings, you don’t explicitly know because you’ve never asked. And if you never ask, you’ll never know. 
Calm settles over you as you decide your course of action. Blood and Popcorn is in two days - you can bring it up then. 
Nodding to yourself, you pluck more grass out of the ground. “Alright,” you tell Jeonghan, heaving a sigh. “Thanks, Mom.” 
“Ugh, you two! Don’t call me that!”
-
Hands shaking, you stare at your phone. You’ve had two days to mentally prepare for this evening and yet when you look at your phone, you think two days was not remotely enough to prepare for this evening. You haven’t spoken to Chan at all about what time you want to have your weekly hangout, but that’s not unusual. 
The only thing unusual is your hesitation to hit the call button and ask what time he wants to come over. It’s such a simple thing - you don’t need to confess your feelings to him right now. But the anticipation of what inviting him over means and the possible disaster it can bring makes your fingers shaky. 
Instead of hitting dial, you take one deep breath and let it out slowly. In slowly again, and-
Your phone starts ringing before you can finish the exhale. Your heart pounds in your throat when you see Chan’s name flash across your screen. For a few seconds there is pure panic, but you manage to collect yourself and slide your thumb across the screen. It takes a few tries, your hands clammy with anxiety as you answer. 
“Hi!”
“Don’t kill me,” Chan immediately says on the other side of the line. You pause, cocking your head. 
“Why would I do that?” 
“I have to raincheck on Blood and Popcorn tonight.”
“Oh no, are you sick? Do you need me to bring anything over? Is Seungkwan-”
Chan laughs on the other side of the phone and your stomach flutters helplessly. You hear the creak of bed springs and you know he’s sitting on his bed. He has the world’s creakiest bed. “I’m not sick.”
“Oh.” 
You frown, sitting down on your couch and folding your legs. There’s nothing else you can think of that Chan would cancel Blood and Popcorn for, so illness had seemed like the first rational thing. You feel a little embarrassed at immediately trying to take care of him, but push it away to ask, “What’s up?” 
“I have a date. Tonight is the only night she was available for like two weeks. She’s in her first year of law school so her availability sucks.” 
It feels like the air vanishes from the room. You lean back against the backrest on the couch, deflated. You hold the phone to your ear, but don’t feel the weight of it in your hand. The TV across the living room becomes a blur, the muted program in the background unrecognizable. 
A date. Chan has a date. That he’s willing to cancel your night for. 
You think back to that night at the diner when he told you to just go out with Joshua instead of doing Blood and Popcorn. How easily he pushed it aside. Like it was unimportant. Easily missed. 
“Bambi?” Chan’s voice sounds distant through the roar of your emotions. “You there? The cell service in your apartment is so shitty.” 
“I’m here.” 
“Oh good. Sorry to miss, please don’t kill me. We can add two days of Blood and Popcorn next week to make up for it?”
“Yeah. Uh. Yeah.” 
There’s a pause. “Are you okay?”
“Definitely.” Lie. “Sorry, I just woke up from a nap and I’m a little spacy.” Lie. “No problems here. I’m not mad. Enjoy your date.” Lie. 
“Thanks, I’ll let you know how it goes after!” 
“For sure.” 
When Chan hangs up the phone, you think that Jeonghan was right. Crying alone is lame. 
-
Chan can’t do this. 
Sol isn’t the problem - at least not directly. She is beautiful and funny, sharp as a whip and has an edge to her that he loves in women. She is successful, has goals, and she’s sensible. And she’s into him, which is perhaps the biggest plus of all. 
But she isn’t you. Sol’s biggest problem is that she’s not you, and it’s not really her problem at all. It is Chan’s and Chan’s alone, and he cannot sit through this date anymore. He’s tried for the last hour already, asking all of the right questions and laughing at all the right places, but he cannot stop the way he wonders if you’re watching buffy. He cannot help but wonder if you’re in those expensive pajamas you like, drinking inexpensive wine from the corner story, his favorite contrast. 
Chan cannot stop thinking that his button up is a little too tight on his chest and the uncomfortable way his new shoes rub his ankle. He’d rather be in a tee and shorts, freshly showered and stretched out. He cannot stop blinking his eyes, hating the way one of his contacts is irritating him, wishing instead to be in glasses and the lowlight of your apartment. 
From the moment he ended that call with you to cancel Blood and Popcorn, all he’s felt is dread. Dread for the upcoming date with someone he should be excited about, dread for telling you how it goes, dread for having to be in public with people and to get to know someone, dread at what happens at the end of the date, does he have to kiss her? Does he have to go get ice cream? What does he do-
“Are you okay?” Sol’s raspy voice draws him from his thoughts - not for the first time that night. She’s leaning back in her seat, dark eyes pinning him to the spot. She is as sharp as she is beautiful, and normally someone like Sol would make him trip over his feet. “You zoned out.”
“I apologize, that was rude of me.”
“It was,” she agrees. She swirls the wine in her glass, looking him up and down before giving him a sympathetic smile. “I won’t be offended if you want to call this off early.” 
“What?”
“You’re not interested,” she asserts. Confident. Self-assured. “It’s totally okay if it’s not working for you.” 
Heat crawls up the side of Chan’s neck. He runs his sweaty palms over his slacks. “I am so sorry,” he says earnestly. “This sounds so stupid to say, but it is me, it isn’t you.”
“No offense, but I know. You’ve been distracted since we got here. You obviously have something or someone else on your mind.” 
“That easy to read, huh?”
“Open book. I have some pride, though. Let’s pay the bill?”
“I’m sorry.”
Her grin is polite. Understanding. “Don’t be. You’re cute and nice, but I cannot suffer knowing your mind isn’t on me.” 
“Understandable.” 
Chan knows he’s lucky. Anyone else a little less level-headed or less confident might have made him suffer. As it is, Sol does let him suffer a little, sliding the bill over to him with a knowing grin. He likes Sol - not like he likes you, but she’s good people. 
“Promise me one thing?” Sol asks before ducking into her Uber. “It’ll help my pride.”
“Sure.”
“Go spend the rest of the evening with whoever it is and make sure you tell them how you feel. It’ll be worth it, that way.”
Chan grins. “Alright. I promise.”
And he does intend to hold to that promise. Something about tonight is different. He can feel it as he walks quickly to his car, undoing the top button of his shirt as he goes. The air is crisp and there are still a few streaks of orange in the night sky, the sun long gone. 
Chan calls you as he turns his car onto the road, heading toward your apartment on the northside of down. He drums his fingers along the steering wheel, buzzing with nervous and excited energy as the line rings. When you don’t pick up, he ends the call. 
Jeonghan was right - he usually is. Chan could either tell you how he feels or live with the consequences, and he’s decided he cannot live with the consequences. He cannot sit across the table from someone who isn’t you and pretend that he isn’t wondering what you’re doing. He cannot look at the curve of someone else’s mouth and wonder what it would be like if it were yours. 
The date had been spurred by the intense wave of jealousy and inadequacy he felt at Jeonghan’s party when he saw you sitting on the couch with Joshua. He has no idea how else he would have had the confidence to start chatting up someone as commanding as Sol, but he was powered by rum and a wounded heart. 
Stupid. It was stupid, he realizes now. He has been stupid so many times regarding you and for long enough that even Joshua, the most polite of his friends, felt like they could respectfully intercept you, now. 
Well, perhaps you will choose Joshua instead. Chan is fine with that. What you want has always been paramount to him. But if you choose Joshua, it will be with the knowledge that Chan loves you and he always has. 
Steeling himself, he gets out of the car at your apartment complex and looks up at the building. He can see the lights on in your living room, confirming you’re still home and probably watching Buffy. The thought sends a thrill through him and he smiles, shaking his head and taking a deep breath.
“You’ve got this, Lee Chan,” he tells himself. “You’ve got this.” 
-
A loud knock on your door startles you. You finish blowing your nose in the issue, trying to suck up the rest of your tears. Pulling the sleeves of your sweater - Chan’s sweater - over your hands, you wipe your face with sweater paws, trying to erase some evidence of your tears before having to face the delivery person. 
Grabbing the bills on the counter, you wonder how many people delivering food have seen people answer the door while crying or immediately after crying. Honestly, they’ve probably seen all types of strange situations, which makes you feel a little bit about answering the door after very clearly sobbing. 
Unlatching the top and flipping the deadbolt, you yank the door open, prepared to not make eye contact to make it a little less awkward for you and the person just trying to hand you pizza and soda, except- 
“Chan?” 
It is Chan standing outside of your door. You blink in surprise, giving him a quick once over. He looks really nice, dressed in slacks and a black button up shirt that is a little too tight across the chest - not that you’re complaining - and the top of the buttons undone to reveal the necklace you gifted him. His dark hair has styling product in it, pushing it out of his face, save for a small rebel strand that hangs over his eyebrow. 
Chan looks… beautiful. You’re suddenly very aware that you’re in his sweatshirt and sweatpants, face swollen from crying, nose a little snotty and looking worse for wear. 
“What are you doing here?”
“Why are you crying?” 
Chan pushes his way into your apartment and you let him, dropping your arm as he passes by. He shuts the door for you, flipping the latch and lock out of habit as he turns to you. He reaches out to grab you by the shoulders but you back up a little, suddenly terrified of his touch. 
He notices. “Why are you crying?” he asks again, dark brows knitted and mouth twisted in a frown. “Talk to me.” 
“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?” 
“Left early, wasn’t working. What’s going on?” 
You swallow thickly, realizing you’re at a crossroads. Silence stretches between you as he waits for your answer, looking at you with so much concern that you begin to crack. The tension in your throat returns, the telltale sign of tears and you ball your fists, nails digging into your palms.
A torrent of feelings bombard you. Anger. Hurt. Desire. Relief. Hurt again. 
“You canceled Blood and Popcorn.” 
Chan opens and closes his mouth, head cocking to the side a little bit. He looks mystified, trying to put together the pieces to the puzzle. “I don’t understand.”
“You canceled Blood and Popcorn for something else. For someone else.” 
“I-” 
A series of emotions flit over his face. You feel your heart pounding wildly in your chest as you watch each one, trying to catch them as they go. Confusion. Thoughtfulness. Confusion. Realization. You watch as he drinks you in, the tears, the wet stains from crying on the shirt, your words. Slowly, Chan puts the pieces together for the entire picture, and his face becomes so soft that you nearly cringe. 
“Oh, Bambi.” 
“You can date whoever you want, you’re not mine,” you punch out, wiping a tear as it escapes your eye. Feeling small, you back away from him a little, breaking eye contact. “But it hurts when you shove me aside like that. Look, I know we’re friends, but-”
“Bambi,” he says gently. You’re not looking at him, but you know that tone. The pleading. He’s begging you to stop, you think, but if you don’t get this out now you never will. 
“Blood and Popcorn is important to me. You’re important to me. I know you’ve never seen me as more than a friend, but Chan-”
Chan interrupts you again. This time though, it’s by crashing against you. You nearly topple over onto the coffee table with the force of it, but you cling to him, digging your hands into the meat of his biceps to hold yourself to him. His hands press into the small of your back, sending a bolt of electricity to you that you can’t pay any attention to, because Chan presses his mouth against yours softly, stealing all of your thoughts.
For a second, your brain goes static. You’re so stunned you don’t do anything but cling to him, vacantly aware that the softness of his lips are on yours. Tentative. Questioning. 
Chan pulls away and your eyes flutter open. He is only an inch away from your face, his minty breath fanning your lips as he begins to apologize, panic on his face. You interrupt him this time, surging forward to crash your lips to his, far less gentle than he had been the first time. 
The box you’ve shoved every feeling for Chan cracks open. You feel everything pour out of it, a steady stream of want as you press into him. He smells like teakwood and mint, hypnotizing you. His mouth is soft and eager, sucking gently against your bottom lip. 
Everything feels lighter, like gravity has lost all meaning. Chan pulls away from your mouth a little, close enough to brush your lips against his in a feather-light kiss, but enough to gaze down at you through half lidded eyes. 
“The date didn’t work out because I kept thinking of you,” he whispers, voice shaking. You feel your breath stop as he speaks, each word sinking in. “It was stupid to ask her out. I was feeling insecure about Joshua asking you out, and it was stupid and petty-”
You kiss him again. He smiles into the kiss, letting you lead him, slow and lazy. You feel his tongue brush against the seam of your lips and you eagerly let him in, toes curling as he licks into your mouth. 
“I just want you,” Chan admits, breaking away for a quick breath of air. He presses his lips against the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your cheek. He peppers your face in them as his hands skate up your back, hot even through the material of his sweatshirt. “I have for so long and I’ve been so afraid to tell you.”
“I was afraid too.” 
“I have wasted so much time.” His hands cradle your face, turning you to look at him. 
Chan is so earnest. Raw honestly glitters in his eyes. Deeper, hiding beneath the surface is something a little darker and more intense. Want. Desire. Something that lingers, waiting for you to call it forward. You love him so much that in that moment you almost cry more, feeling overwhelmed with everything you’ve buried down for years. 
“I want to make up for it,” you whisper, stealing a kiss that is more teeth than anything. He makes a noise in the back of his throat. Your hands sink to his waist, gripping at the fabric of his shirt. “I was actually going to tell you tonight, before you canceled.”
“What a stupid man I am.”
You smirk a little. “Yes.” 
“Let me apologize,” he murmurs, voice low. You feel yourself shiver as he pushes you toward your room, connecting your mouths again. The kiss is messy and needy, so different than the one moments before. You tangle together, stumbling toward your room. “I’ll make it up to you.” 
“Oh?” 
The crash landing onto your mattress is not graceful. Chan’s full weight falls on top of you and your foreheads smack a little. You yelp in paint and Chan groans, burying his face in your neck. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles to the surface, exploding out of you as your hands press flat on his back, soothing as you hold him to you.
“First step of apologizing,” you wheeze under him. “Give her a concussion.” 
“I’m sorry,” he says, burying his face further in embarrassment. “I’m a little eager.” 
His breath tickles your neck, making you squirm under him. He seems to notice, opting to press open-mouthed kisses against your throat. You hum, eyelids fluttering at the stimulation. “It’s okay,” you breathe, fingers turning to claws against his back. “It’s cute.”
Chan leans off of you, properly supporting himself with arms on either side of your head, caging you in. His knee slots between your legs, making your stomach leap in excitement as he scoots it up a little, almost pressing against you. 
“You’re cute,” he notes, kisses getting messy as they go up your neck toward your ear. He nips your ear and you let out a sound. His laughter is warm against you and you shiver. “You’re in my clothes.”
“I wear them all the time.”
He groans. “I know. Fuck I know.”
“Is that what does it for you?” You move your hands from his back to his waist, pulling the tucked shirt from the waistband of his slacks. His hips twitch forward, excited. He busies his mouth with pressing wet kisses to your jaw. “Me in your clothes?”
“Everything does it for me. I am down horrendous for you.” 
“I really didn’t know.”
He moves a hand to pull at the collar of his sweatshirt, exposing more of your collarbones to him as he kisses. “Everyone else did,” he assures you. You hiss when he bites down and licks over the sting, looking up through dark lashes to gauge your reaction. You nod a little and he grins, doing it again. “Biting. Got it.” 
With trembling fingers, you work the buttons on his shirt. You steal touches as you go, greedy for him. Too long have you hidden what you want in the shadows, too long have you resisted this. Now, you take. 
You brush your fingers against the flexing muscle of his stomach as you pull at the shirt, making him moan deep in his throat. His skin is like fire as you brush your fingers across its warmth, shoving his shirt off. He leans up, letting it fall from his shoulders, rippling to the ground.
The light from your hall glows behind Chan, haloing him in golden light. Your breath catches in your chest as your fingers press to his skin, brush over his shoulders and chest, down his stomach. You feel him twitch beneath your hands but he lets you explore, breathing hard under your reverence. 
Golden boy, so full of fire. It’s all you can think of as you stare up at him, equal parts light and dark in your bedroom. Your hands drop to his belt and you tug him to you, desperate for him. 
“Kiss me,” you beg. 
He does. His mouth is greedy, stealing your breath. A thrill shoots through you when he slides his knee up higher, pressing it between your legs. You breath the kiss to gasp at the barest amount of pressure and Chan grins, watching your reaction through a heavy gaze. 
“Take this off for me,” he asks, voice raspy. He pulls at the hem of his sweatshirt on your frame. “Please.”
You lean up, pressing your mouth to his collarbone in a sweet kiss as you pull the shirt over your head. He helps you, tossing it somewhere else. His hands go to your sides, fingers tracing up your curves as he pushes you back down, claiming your mouth again. 
It feels like you might go crazy. Your bare chest presses against his, the friction turning your blood to liquid fire. His knee is firm between your legs, and when his hand slips to your waist, squeezing you and urging you to roll your hips you can’t help but let out a moan in the shape of his name, helpless.
“Fuck,” he swears, dropping his forehead to your shoulder as he helps you move against his thigh. “If you say my name like that again I might bust in my fucking pants.” 
“Chan.” 
“Don’t,” he laughs, biting your shoulder. “I want this so bad.” 
“I want you.”
“I might pass out due to sheer joy.” 
“I have some ideas on how to revive you.” 
He lets out a swear and you laugh. “You’re going to be the death of me.” 
“Maybe.” 
Truth is, you think he might be the death of you. You’d die happily in his arms, completely swept up in the feeling of Chan’s tongue as it skates across your skin and up the swell of your breast. When he pauses, you look down at him. He smirks, happy to have your attention before he flicks his tongue lightly over the peak of your nipple. 
You squeeze your legs around his thigh, back bowing off the bed. He lets out a chuckle, repeating the flicking motion as he watches you with dark, satisfied eyes. It drives you insane, the way he watches you with equal parts reverence and determination to find out what makes you squirm. 
Chan is a fast learner. His teeth scrape against your nipple and you whine, thrashing under him as he teases you, pulling gently. The sting feels so good, making you melt into the mattress underneath him. He makes a sound of appreciation, sucking gently and sending you to the moon before trailing his mouth toward your other breast. 
The hand on your hip squeezes you, reminding you why it had been there in the first place. “Keep going.” His breath fans against your skin and you tremble. “I like seeing you worked up.” 
“God,” you whisper, trying to roll your hips against his leg again. It feels so good but it’s not enough, and as he sucks greedily at your chest you feel like you might rip at the seams. “Who knew you were so… this.” 
You feel his wet grin against you, tongue flicking against your pert nipple. Your head falls to the side as you pant, trying to catch your fucking breath. 
Of course he can reduce you to nothing so easily. No one knows you better than Chan, the two of you like twin flames. Every touch of his tongue, every press of his fingers into your skin, every breath of your name on his lips were made to unravel you because it’s Chan. Your Chan. 
Your Chan who gently pulls the sweatpants from your hips, groaning low and slow when he sees the way your panties stick to your folds. Your Chan who kisses and bites the softness of your thighs, breath ghosting across sensitive flesh, fingers prying your legs apart when they start to twitch shut. 
You’d always been made for him. To think otherwise was folly. You know that now, hand gripping his bones tight as he pulls your hands to the side, the cold air hitting your aching cunt. He lets you squeeze his hand, not caring that your gripping is bone-breaking. 
“Hmm.” He looks up at you and you look down at him. His eyes are blown and he grins, shaking his head a little. “This for me?” You nod, your thoughts banging around the near empty space in your head as you do. “Fuck.” 
And then his tongue presses against you, flat and warm and fuck fuck fuck. You can barely function as Chan drags his tongue slowly up your pussy, avoiding your clit entirely before dragging it back down. He makes a sound in his throat that sounds like a whine and you nearly lose it there, driven insane by him. 
Chan takes the hand he has linked with yours and rests it on your hip, pressing into you to keep you still. You buck under his mouth and he laughs, unbothered as he looks up at you. The vision of him between your legs makes you dizzy, his hair mused, tongue pressed between your folds, eyes starving. 
Your other hand grips his wrist where his opposite hand holds you open. You cling to him, thighs twitching as he licks you at his leisure. His mouth is a weapon, bringing you to the edge of insane easily. When he closes his lips around your clit and sucks gently, you fear you might break. 
He can sense it too, setting himself to the task of pushing you over the edge. Chan learns you so quickly - maybe just knows you intuitively - alternating between circling his tongue around your throbbing bundle of nerves and sucking on it gently. 
“I am going to die,” you gasp between ragged breaths. “Your fucking mouth.” 
“Yeah? Feels good?” The buzz of his words drive right into your lower stomach where your orgasmed has so much compacted pressure you know you’re going to snap any moment. “Taste so good. I could eat this pussy all fucking night.” 
“Fuck, Chan. I’m gonna come.” 
He gives a harsh suck to your cunt, the wet sound obscene. “Good.” 
“Like that.”
“Yeah?” he asks, panting. He does it again, following your instruction. Your mouth falls open as you nod, unable to string together more than. “Mmm.” 
Chan doubles his effort, the wet sounds of his mouth making it all the harder to keep it together. He keeps you in place as best as he can, but his little hums of pleasure and the combination of his mouth and tongue send your orgasm slamming into you. 
You think you say his name. You have no idea if anything comes out at all. You come hard, thrashing against the bed as he licks you through it, uncaring. Every nerve in your body is on fire, limbs tingling as you float in the momentary high of your peak before you start to come back down, breathing raggedly. 
A cramp throbs in your fingers that are still twisted in Chan’s grip. You loosen your grip a little bit, feeling a little bad about almost snapping his fingers. He doesn’t seem to mind, head still between your legs, tongue gentle and pressed against your twitching entrance. He avoids your clit, letting you catch your breath.
“Chan,” you mumble. He lifts his head, your arousal spread across his mouth. He is a mess, spiking your need for him. You pull at him, wild. “Kiss me.” 
He doesn’t hesitate. He scrambles up to you, letting go of your hand in favor of cradling your face. The kiss is hungry and wet, your heady taste on his mouth as you drink him in. You don’t care, desperate to have him close, pulling him into you. 
One of your hands snakes between your bodies, pressing against the firm outline of his cock through his pants. He lets out a whine, shaking his head as he breaks the kiss, breathing heavy. 
“Don’t,” he begs. “I will cum right now.” 
“Oh?” 
“I’m so serious, I almost came untouched.”
“Wow, I really do it for you, huh?” 
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” His sincerity makes you flush and you peck him on the lips. “I cannot promise I will not come apart after a single stroke.” 
“Don’t care.” You undo his belt, pulling. “Want it. Want you. Please don’t make me wait.” 
He curses. “I can deny you nothing.” He sees your wicked grin and shakes his head, laughing as he pulls away to kick out of his pants. “You like having me wrapped around your finger, huh?” 
“You’re not the only one whipped.” He looks at you, doubtful. “You think I share my fries with anyone? Be so real, Chan. That’s something only you can do.” 
“Got it. French fry privileges, what else can I weaponize?” 
You don’t answer his question, distracted by him as he peels his briefs off and fists his heavy cock. You lick your lips, drinking in the length and thickness of him, the sticky, swollen tip, the way he pumps himself when he kneels on the bed again. 
“Hmm?” he asks, noticing you're distracted. “Everything okay?” 
“You have a nice dick,” you blurt. He pauses, raising his brows, thighs pressed to the back of yours. You fold your lips flat, a little embarrassed by your outburst. “Thank you is the proper response to a compliment.” 
He bursts into laughter and you can’t help but join him, covering your face as it heats up. “Don’t hide from me, wanna see you,” he teases, grabbing your hands and pulling them from your face. He pins them above your head. “And thank you.” 
Chan runs the head of his cock along your sticky folds, both of you moaning in unison. His hand still pins yours above your head, making you feel open and vulnerable. Your knees squeeze his hips as he ruts against you a little, eyes focused while he uses his other end to guide himself to your entrance. 
“Mmm,” the sound escapes you as he presses in, the ache in your core doubling for a second as he sinks further. “Fuuuck.”
“Okay?”
“Very. Just- slow.”
“You got it, baby.” 
The term of endearment hits you low in the stomach. Between him whispering baby and sinking into the hilt, you don’t know what drives you crazier. The easy answer is just Chan. It’s simply Chan who does this to you, who turns you inside out, who reduces you to a whimpering mess. 
Chan lets go of your hands and brings it to your face. He leans down, supported by the other hand as he kisses you gently, letting you adjust to his girth, pussy spasming around him as you try to keep it together. The kiss is slow and sweet, in contrast to the feral kiss you shared earlier. 
“Fuck,” he breaths against you mouth, laughing. He presses his forehead against yours. “You’re fucking squeezing me. I might die.” 
You do it on purpose this time and he hisses, all of his muscles clenching. “Like that?” 
“Doonnn’t. If I come right now I’ll be so embarrassed.” 
“Why? It’s just me.”
“I don’t want to one-stroke my dream girl, are you serious?” 
“Dream girl, huh?” He pulls out a little before shallow thrusting back in. “Mmm yeah. That feels good.” 
Instead of answering your jest, he kisses you slowly. His strokes are slow but deep, making you sigh. He feels so good, having him like this. Chan presses his body against you, melding the two of you. You wrap your legs around his waist, squeezing to keep him as close as possible. 
Your name falls from his lips as you move in sync. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest, feel him shake in your hands. He buries his face in your neck, mouth pressed against your skin as he breathes heavily. You cling to him, as though you could press your love into him, as though you can transfer it through touch. 
Chan slides a hand between the two of you, reaching down to circle your clit gently. You whimper in surprise, squeezing around him and drawing out a low sound. “I’m gonna come soon,” he murmurs. “Do you have another one, baby? Can you try for me?”
You nod. He presses his lips to your temple, driving his hips faster, fingers firm. You feel yourself wind up again, desperate to catch up to Chan, to give him what he wants, to come undone together. You’d do anything for him - anything he asked. You always have.
A glint of metal catches your eye. You see the necklace you gifted him hanging around his neck, tapping his collarbone in time with his movements. The sight of it makes you possessive, your desire for him surging. Gripping the back of his neck, you bring his mouth to yours. You don’t kiss him, but your mouths are pressed together as you mutter, “I love you, you know?” 
He groans, hips stuttering, fingers firm. You’re so close, you feel yourself right on that edge again. “I do know,” he admits, his cock pressing that perfect spot inside of you that has the room spinning. “I love you too, you know?”
You feel him smile against you. The kiss he gives you is so gentle that it sends you over the edge. You hold him tight, coming undone around him as he groans into your mouth, unraveling with you. When he stills, you keep holding him to you, his embrace warm. 
Chan nudges your nose with his. You open your eyes to find his dark ones peering at you. You smile, lifting a hand to trace your fingers along his jaw, the gentle slope of his nose, the roundness of his cheeks. You note the faint freckles under his eyes, his long lashes, the way one side of his lips lifts before the other when he smiles. 
“Hmm?” he asks.
“You’re so pretty.” You trace your finger to his nose and then flick it. He frowns and pulls away, making you laugh. “There is cum leaking down my leg to my ass.” He thrusts once sharply and you whine. “Chaaaan.”
“Hmmm?”
“Can we shower?” 
“We?”
You grin. “You speak French?” 
“I speak pussy.”
“Ew, get off of me!” you laugh, hitting him in the shoulder. He laughs too, rolling off and pulling out. “Take me to the shower, you loser.” 
“Oui.” 
“Then I want to watch Buffy - oh no.”
“What?” He stands and reaches a hand out to you, helping you up. “Are you alright?”
“I ordered pizza and they probably tried to deliver.” 
“That’s okay.” He pulls you toward the shower and smacks your ass lightly, making you yelp. “Start the shower, I’ll call and get it re-delivered.”
You pause, looking at him, unable to bite back the smile. “I love you.”
“Mhmm. Love you too, Bambi.”
-
“I know I’m good looking,” Chan murmurs, eyes on the screen. “But you’re staring very hard at me.” 
You’re laying against his chest, head tilted up to look at him. You can’t help it, watching the blue light from the TV dance across his face, reflected in the glasses he put on after the shower. His hair is still damp and fluffy, skin glistening from the skincare post-shower. 
“You are good looking.”
“Damn. Only like me for the looks?”
“Well your jokes aren’t very good.” 
He levels you with a glare and you laugh, kissing him quickly before settling down in his arms again. His embrace is warm and he smells like your shampoo. You press yourself into him further and he grunts, letting you. 
“Can we do Blood and Popcorn forever?” you ask, watching him fondly. He smiles and kisses your forehead, flooding you with warmth. “Please?”
“Anything you ask, baby. Blood and Popcorn forever.” 
-
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
Text
bad idea right
for @steddiesongfics July prompt using song lyrics from ‘bad idea right’ by olivia rodrigo
rated e | 1569 words | cw: alcohol, super mildly dubious consent because of the alcohol | tags: angst with a happy ending, post break up, exes to lovers, getting back together, sex
📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱
Eddie isn’t afraid to admit that he makes mistakes. Sometimes, he makes big ones.
Answering the call from Steve is the first big one.
“Steve?” It’s been almost a year since he’s heard from him, their breakup being the finite end to any and all communication. “You okay?”
“Eddie! Oh my god. So I’m out right now, and I’m all fucked up, and I was thinkin’ ‘bout that time I got so drunk you had to carry me to my bed.” Eddie’s listening to Steve, but he feels like his soul is leaving his body. “You remember how gentle you were? You were so worried about tripping up the stairs and you kept cussing when you lost your grip. You kissed my head when you thought I was asleep.”
Steve’s words are slurred, but Eddie can make them out fine. He was good at understanding Steve all the time, even inebriated.
“I knew you were awake,” he gulps. Robin’s gonna kill him for even entertaining Steve like this. Actually, speaking of her- “Is Robbie with you?”
“No.” Eddie can hear the pout on his lips. “She’s on a date with her girlfriend.”
Right. She’d mentioned that to Eddie yesterday when they were texting about plans for next weekend.
Robin had refused to be split between her two best friends when they broke up, and rightfully so. She may have been Steve’s platonic soulmate, but she knew that what happened between them wasn’t Eddie’s fault. She made sure to spend time with Eddie when Steve was otherwise busy.
“Are you good to get home? I can send an Uber for you.” Eddie offers even though he’s sure Steve thought of that already. Even drunk, he would know how to get home.
“I can get my own Uber.”
“I know.”
“I missed your voice.”
Eddie is doing his fuckin’ best not to make his second big mistake tonight, but it’s not going well. He knows what’s gonna happen. He knows because he’s weak and loves Steve more than anything even after having his heart torn to pieces by him. Even knowing it’ll only lead to more heartbreak.
“You should get home, Stevie.”
“Missed that, too.”
It’s quieter on Steve’s end now, like he’s stepped away from whatever club or bar he’s holed up in, maybe outside to get some much needed fresh air. Eddie hopes it sobers him enough to realize what he’s done so he hangs up.
“Steve…”
“Can I come over?”
Eddie makes the second big mistake of the night and says yes.
-
When Steve arrives, he’s a beautiful mess.
He’s drunk, but the ride must’ve helped a little. His eyes are clear, his cheeks not as flush as they probably were before.
Eddie’s waiting at the door when he gets there, standing with a smile that doesn’t belong. He’s trying to be welcoming to a man who did everything to make sure he felt like he didn’t belong.
Steve is in his arms as soon as he makes it to the front door. Eddie’s third big mistake of the night is wrapping his arms around him as if he’d never stopped, as if this last year wasn’t the worst of his life and he’s barely made it through.
“Sorry I called. I didn’t know where to go.”
And now Eddie’s confused. He’s confused because Steve has an apartment of his own, one that he definitely knew how to get to even when drunk. Even if he didn’t, he would’ve been able to call Robin to help. Or Max. Or Lucas.
And he’s sure that Steve’s been drunk in the last year and not called him.
“Why couldn’t you go home?”
“Too quiet.”
11 months ago, almost to the day, Steve Harrington told Eddie Munson that he was too loud, too hyper, too messy.
11 months ago, Eddie Munson gathered whatever he could find in four minutes and left Steve’s apartment for the last time.
11 months ago, Steve ruined a three year relationship because he’d been feeling overwhelmed and didn’t tell Eddie until it was too late.
Now, Eddie Munson is sure that Steve Harrington is about to be his fourth big mistake tonight.
“You wanna come in?” He asks, already knowing Steve’s answer.
“Please.”
-
Steve is tucked into Eddie’s bed, curled around a pillow, mouth open as he snores quietly. Eddie watches him for a moment before tip-toeing from the room.
Robin’s livid when she answers her phone.
“This better be good. I was two fingers-“
“Steve’s here.” Eddie interrupts what was sure to be too much information about what Robin was getting up to on her date. “Drunk.”
“He just showed up at your house?” Robin sounds less mad now, more concerned, though he’s not sure who she’s more concerned about.
“He called first.”
“And you answered.”
“Yeah. Well.” Eddie sighs. “I’m gonna sleep on the couch, but just wanted you to know he’s safe and I’ll make sure he gets home tomorrow.”
“Eddie, I’m so sorry. He said he was just gonna watch a movie tonight or else I would’ve suggested he go hang with Dustin or something.”
“It’s not your job to babysit him.” Eddie doesn’t like the way she said that, but he’s probably reading too much into it. “He’s an adult.”
“Yeah, no. He’s. I mean, he’s fine. It’s just that we all try to keep his mind busy since…ya know.” Robin explains, though Eddie feels even more confused.
“Since he specifically told me I was too much for him?”
Robin’s silence speaks volumes.
“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is behind him and he’s quick to turn and make sure he’s okay. “Sleep?”
“I’ll text you,” he whispers to Robin before hanging up and turning to Steve. “You should go lay down. I’ll bring you some water.”
“You too?” Steve was blinking slowly, barely awake as he stood in Eddie’s living room.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Stevie.”
“Is it because of what I said?”
It’s not the time for them to have this conversation, and it’s not the time for Eddie to wish he could forget it ever happened so he can hop into bed with Steve. But he thinks Steve is probably sobering up little by little, and if he expects Steve to sleep, he may have to do this.
“You made it very clear how you felt. I’m just trying to respect your space until I can get you home tomorrow.” Robin would be proud of how he’s handling this, he thinks. He’s at least keeping things civil even though his head is screaming at him.
“I didn’t mean what I said.”
Eddie stares at him, tries to find the telltale signs of Steve lying. He doesn’t see any.
Steve’s too tired and too buzzed to hide it.
“Then why did you say any of it?” Eddie feels his chest constricting, his heartbeat racing the longer he looks at him. “Why did you make me think I was too much?”
“My dad came by that day,” Steve’s head falls, his hands wringing in front of him. “My dad had spent two hours telling me I wasn’t enough and that I’d done nothing but disappoint him and I’d never be what he wanted. And it wasn’t the first time, but it was after my boss gave a promotion to someone else even though I was more qualified and my head was killing me and Robin and I had gotten into a stupid argument that morning and it was a bad day.”
Eddie’s staring at him, mouth wide open, watching as the man he loves falls apart.
“It’s no excuse. I shouldn’t’ve said any of it no matter what. Not when it’s not even true. I’ve never felt like you’re too much or too loud.” Steve’s stepping closer now. “I’ve always just wanted to soak up whatever energy you have. And I didn’t know how to tell you that you’re more than I deserve without saying you’re too much for what I can offer.”
Damn Steve Harrington and his charm, even when buzzed, even when exhaustion is causing him to curl into himself.
Damn Eddie’s inability to avoid his fifth mistake of the night.
He doesn’t know if he is the catalyst or if they both are, but suddenly his mouth is on Steve’s and teeth knock together, and there’s a slight taste of blood on Eddie’s tongue.
There’s moans and hands against skin and in hair and hard cocks rubbing against thighs and bruises on hips.
There’s Steve’s head hitting the pillow and Eddie’s mouth sucking marks into his stomach and inner thigh and the blanket falling off the bed as they try to strip out of their clothes too fast.
There’s laughter and soft touches and nails biting into skin and check-ins.
There’s love when Eddie holds his face in his hands as he slides into Steve for the first time in too long, and there’s hope when Steve cries out for more, and there’s passion that Eddie knows he’d never find with anyone else.
After, when there’s sweat and tears and cum and an unfortunate wet spot in the middle of the bed, there’s whispers of tomorrow and the next day and apologies and promises.
It may have been a bad idea answering Steve’s call, but Eddie’s happy to make more mistakes if it means keeping Steve in his arms and being enough for each other.
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lanadelnegan · 3 months
Text
The Feeling Was Mutual
Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Female Reader
Summary: You and your former friend and co-star, JDM, pick up where you left off years ago when he joins you on set of TWD. Starting with a dinner date and ending with a quickie in the elevator. Warnings: smut, 18+, unprotected public sex, heavy touching and kissing, angst, sexual tension, *Jeffrey is single
Requested by anon <3
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Your heart thumped in your ears when the RV doors opened and the gorgeous man you hadn't seen in 10 years stepped out. You tried to stay in character, purposely replacing your googly heart eyes with fearful ones. You studied his every move, noting the new silver streaks in his hair and beard. His voice was deeper than you remembered and his waist skinnier, but it was a nice look on him.
For the past decade, you've avoided him, focusing on your acting career and pushing your growing feelings for him aside. Things were different now. You were both more mature and further along in your careers. And single. From what you last heard. Not that you were checking up on him.
"Eeny. Meeny. Miny. Moe."
When the end of the barbed-wire bat came dangerously close to the tip of your nose, your eyes finally locked with his. His smug gaze softened and for a moment, you thought he was about to break character. A grin threatened to tug at the corner of your mouth, but you mentally pushed it aside, breaking eye contact to stare at the ground. His smirk grew wider before he walked away from you, continuing his impressive opening speech.
"Cut. Amazing! Let's take a break." Your fellow actors stood to their feet, wiping the dirt off their knees and laughing amongst each other. You did the same, glancing at Jeffrey across the set before grabbing a drink of water. He was busy getting to know the others as they welcomed him to his first day on set.
Your back was turned away from him as you took a sip of your water. You hated yourself for being this shy in front of him, purposely stalling on greeting him with the rest of the cast. There was a time he was one of your closest friends but now you only saw him on social media, occasionally dropping a comment on one of his new posts and him returning the gesture.
"Not gonna go say hi to the new guy?" Norman teased.
"Eventually. You?"
"Met him earlier. Seems like a nice dude."
"Yeah, he's -"
"Walking over here." Norman said quietly, giving you a subtle heads up. Your eyes widened as he tilted his chin up at Jeffrey. "Man, that was awesome. Making us all look bad." Norman joked, earning a chuckle from the tall man next to you.
Jeffrey's hazel eyes quickly skimmed over you before settling on your own. "Hey stranger."
You rolled your eyes, playing off your ridiculous grin as he brought you in for a hug. You were always attracted to him, but this new him did something to you. He looked taller somehow. More confident.
"You know each other?" Norman asked.
Jeffrey rambled off to Norman about the movies you made together while you half listened, too busy soaking in his handsome features and the way the corner of his mouth tilted slightly when he spoke.
"And then, one day, she just.. ghosted me." He said jokingly, bringing his hand to his chest like it pained him.
You felt heat quickly rise to your cheeks. "I dunno if that's what happened." You said casually, hoping he'd drop it. Of course you weren't that lucky.
"You stopped returning my calls and texts. I'd say that's.. exactly what happened." Jeffrey tilted his head at you, resting his hands loosely on his hips.
"Well, you guys enjoy your reunion." Norman interrupted, patting Jeffrey's shoulder before walking away.
"What the hell was that?"
"Wasn't a lie." He shrugged, sipping his can of coca-cola.
"So that's how it's gonna be? You haven't seen me in a decade and you want to start it like this?"
He made a satisfied sigh, swallowing his drink. "This is awkward because of you, darlin'. Not me."
You scoffed. With his new found confidence, he was also apparently an asshole. You turned to walk away but he was on your heels.
"Y/n, wait."
You ignored the loud sigh he made.
"Y/n. Stop, can we just talk?"
You turned to face him, opening your mouth to say something, but quickly realized how close your face was to his. Your mind wandered back to one of the first scenes you shot with him - a kissing scene that involved lots of heavy touching. As if reading your mind, his eyes dropped to your lips then quickly back to your eyes.
"I'm sorry." He said genuinely. "Let's start over. You look.. really great."
"So do you. I.. I missed you." You stepped back a couple inches, allowing some space between you so others wouldn't stare.
"How about we get dinner tonight and catch up?"
You thought for a moment then nodded slightly. "Okay, yeah. That sounds nice."
Later that night...
You decided to keep it casual and eat at the restaurant at the hotel you were both staying at. This was just a friendly outing after all. You had to remind yourself of that a few times while getting ready, keeping your makeup light and your outfit nice but definitely not overdressed.
Your phone buzzed just as you were stepping off the elevator. Digging it out of your purse, you smiled at the name on the screen. You were surprised his number was still saved. And that he clearly still had yours.
JD: Got us a table outside in the back.
The nickname for him in your phone stuck after the filming of a show you did together. JD Richter. You smiled to yourself as you walked, remembering a particular scene you shot together that consisted of a king-sized bed and his body hovering over yours. His lips exploring your neck and collarbone. It was your favorite scene you ever shot with him, for obvious reasons. Partly because of the kissing, but mostly because of the way he whispered your name in your ear while on top of you. You real name, not your character name - so quietly that only the two of you could hear it. Shortly after that scene, your friendship grew apart and it was all your fault. He was right, you had ghosted him - stupidly. But tonight you'd make up for it.
You made your way through the restaurant, finding the door to the back patio. The sun was starting to disappear, but the patio was outlined in greenery and warm sting lights.
He stood when he saw you, pulling out a chair beside him. "You don't have to pull my chair out. This isn't a date." You half teased as you both settled into your seats.
"So there's no chance I'm getting lucky tonight? Shit. I wore my fancy underwear and everything."
Your laughs echoed across the patio, slowly fading when the waiter finally approached. After ordering a bottle of wine and a couple of appetizers to share, you took turns catching each other up on the past decade of your lives. He had been in two semi-serious relationships, one of which was fairly recent.
"The last one, I thought for awhile she might have been the one, but then it just didn't feel right."
"What happened?" You asked curiously, sipping your wine.
He hesitated for a moment. "When I got the call about the Negan gig... I broke up with her shortly after that."
"Choosing your career over your love life?" You chuckled like the idea was ridiculous.
"Sound familiar?" He raised an eyebrow at you.
Ouch. He was right.
"I deserve that." You nodded, popping a pretzel bite in your mouth. "But.. why after you got the Negan call?"
"I - uh.." He hesitated again. "Knew I was about to see you again."
You blushed, feeling his knee brush against yours underneath the table.
"Look y/n, I know you don't wanna talk about it. But I need to know. Why'd you stop answering my calls?"
You knew that question was coming.
The truth is, you needed to focus on your career. You were barely a known actress at the time, and Jeffrey had already made a name for himself. When you started developing feelings for him, you knew you had to distance yourself. You wanted to be known for your work, not your love life.
"Fine. I.. I had feelings for you. That I didn't want to have." You admitted, ignoring his gaze and taking a bite of chocolate cake you were sharing for dessert.
"You should have told me." He said, casually wiping a dab of icing from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. You blushed when he brought it to his own mouth and sucked it off with a quick pop.
"I didn't know if you felt the same way."
"So you preferred never speaking to me again?"
Guilt punched you in the stomach and you felt like the worst person in the world. "No. I made a mistake. And when I realized it, I figured it was too late. You already had a girlfriend." You couldn't believe you were finally saying all of this out loud.
He nodded, deep in thought. "Okay."
"Okay? ...That’s all you have to say?”
“What do you want me to say, y/n?” He asked, avoiding eye contact and signing the tab.
That you had feelings for me too. That the feeling was mutual. That I made a mistake and we should have been together.
“It’s getting late, we should probably head back.” You said instead.
The walk back to your rooms was silent with the exception of him asking what floor you were on. You stared at him as he leaned back against the elevator wall, sliding his hands in his jean pockets. He stared back at you and you wondered what he was thinking, but stubbornly, you weren't going to be the one to speak first. When the elevator doors opened, he motioned for you to lead the way, so you did until you came to a stop at your door.
"Well, thanks for dinner. It was nice." You finally spoke, annoyed that you lost at your little silent game.
He nodded. “Yeah. Any time.”
You opened your mouth again to speak but he was already walking away. “JD.” He stopped, looking back at you over his shoulder.
Come inside. Stay with me. Let's do what we should have done a long time ago.
"...goodnight." You said instead.
"Night, y/n." He disappeared down the hall and you drifted into your room, disappointed and frustrated with yourself.
You kicked off your clothes, replacing them with your favorite silky night gown before falling into bed defeatedly. You closed your eyes, still feeling a buzz from the half bottle of wine you finished.
Imagining Jeffrey on top of you and whispering in your ear, your hand slipped between your legs. You easily rubbed your clit, considering your panties were on the floor with your other discarded clothes.
You were growing hotter by the second until your phone chimed from the nightstand. You sighed, picking it up and squinting at the bright screen.
JD: The feeling was mutual.
Your heart flipped at his confession and you jumped out of bed. You didn't bother slipping on shoes as you flung open your door. You took one step around the corner and immediately slammed into his tall figure.
"Oh.. hey.. I was just.." You rambled nervously, suddenly losing your courage.
"Me too." He said, slamming his mouth to yours and pressing you against the carpeted hallway wall.
He tasted like wine and chocolate cake, mixed with a hint of tobacco. The flavor alone enough to make your knees weak. He devoured your mouth and tangled his tongue with yours until you were breathless. Pulling away slightly, his mouth dipped to your neck, tracing his lips against your sensitive flesh. Your hand reached for his hair while the other wrapped around his wrist and guided it towards your soaked center.
He stopped suddenly, pulling away and looking at you. "Fuck, we can't do this." He ran a hand through his tousled hair.
"Oh.." You said, cheeks flushed. "Right.."
"Here. Someone could see us." He clarified. You exhaled a breath of relief as he guided you quickly to your room, placing his hand on your lower back.
"Oh no.." You panicked slightly, realizing your room key was on the other side of your door.
"Fuck. Come on." He led you to the elevator and luckily you didn't have to wait long before the doors opened and you stumbled inside the small space. His lips were on yours again as he clumsily pressed the button to his floor.
"I don't think I can wait another second to be inside of you." He said against your mouth, running his hand up your thigh and feeling your bare pussy. His finger slid through your wetness. "Fuck baby.."
"Then don't." You fumbled with the belt on his jeans. Pressing his forehead to yours, he helped you quickly unbuckle him.
You almost moaned at the sight of his cock when he pulled it free from his pants. He was rock hard and already leaking precum. Before you could admire it any longer, he lifted one of your legs around his hip and held it there, guiding his length to your slick hole. You were so wet and ready for him, you wouldn't be surprised if you were making a puddle all over the elevator floor.
He rubbed the head up and down your slit, coating his cock in your juices before stopping at your entrance.
"If you want to take this slow, we can."
You shook your head no, eager for him to be buried deep in your cunt already.
"You sure? I could take you back to your room.." He whispered in your ear. "And eat this pretty pussy before I fuck it."
"JD.." You almost yelled. "Please just -"
He pushed forward suddenly, entering you hard with one full thrust and stretching your walls perfectly. Your mouth fell open as he pressed fully against you, his cock buried so deep in your cunt it was almost painful. He let out a hoarse groan before sloppily kissing you again.
"Fuck, doll. You feel fuckin' good."
His hips began moving slowly, allowing you to focus on every inch of him. The elevator door opened for a few moments but he didn't stop. Luckily no one was on the other side and it finally closed.
His movements quickened and the moans from both of you filled the small space. You didn't care that someone was probably watching from the other end of the camera in the corner. Or that you could be caught at any moment and end up trending on the internet. You were too focused on each other. At how amazing he felt inside of you, like his cock was made for you.
"Oh god, fuck. I'm-" You couldn't finish your sentence before your pussy clenched around him and your legs shook beneath you. He watched you, his eyelids heavy as he felt his own release coming.
Suddenly the floor felt like it was falling from under you when the elevator started to descend.
"JD.." You said panicked, trying to push him away. But his grip tightened around your thigh and he continued thrusting, faster.
"JD..!"
Jeffrey stilled, letting out a couple of sharp grunts before spilling his load inside of you. "Fuck.. fuck." He pulled out of you quickly, stepping to the other side of the elevator and zipping himself up in his jeans. He held his wrists over his unclasped belt buckle as the doors began to open.
One would never be able to tell you just fucked.
Besides your flushed cheeks.
And his messy hair.
And the handprint on your thigh.
And the heavy breathing.
And-
The doors slowly departed, revealing Norman standing on the other side.
Oh fuck.
He squinted, eyeing you both suspiciously as he grinned, long enough for the doors to begin to close.
"I'll catch the next one." He said before they shut completely.
You couldn't help but giggle. "Oh my god.. you think he knew?"
Jeffrey took a step towards you, placing his hand on your lower back and pulling you towards him. "Probably. Especially if he noticed my cum running down your legs."
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