#some of my best friends online i know fucking nothing about

[mare-the-silly-scroingle]

sometimes i wonder if my mutuals notice me slipping away and i wonder if they know that it’s not intentional and i wonder if they still resent me anyway

[minimoll7]

Its weird to think about how if I were truly honest with my friends, they’d probably all hate me

Just learned there’s a limited amount of tags you can put in a post lmao I went into more detail in the tags. I don’t remember everything else but I can at least complete the part that got caught off. Which is “to send a message I just freeze”

[dyketubbo]

also heres the full picture the cartoony t'surots is from feel free to ask about any of them because im going a little insane in this school

[nottsangel]

— artrick and camgirl!reader ੈ♡˳

moodboard

it began as just a quick way to make some extra money during college and nothing more than that. you were a bit apprehensive at first, aware of the risks and consequences of someone finding you, but eventually, you started to find joy in it, especially because you received a lot of attention— even more than the other girls on the same website. people, who where mostly older men, started to like you, and money began to pour in like never before. but no matter what, you had to keep it a secret from everyone.

yet, patrick who scours the whole internet for porn that matches his specific taste, managed to unexpectedly find you while you were live. he almost couldn’t believe his eyes— his best friend, with her legs spread wide as she touched herself and loud moans escaped her mouth. and god, the way you moaned sounded so angelic, with your pretty, soft lips parted in ecstasy. he simply had no other choice— he had to tell art.

“i swear to god patrick, i don’t wanna see those golden shower porn videos again.” “just, trust me, you’re gonna wanna see this.” patrick insisted as he opened his laptop. he glanced at the time. 10 pm. that was usually when you came online on thursdays, because yes, patrick had already watched you so many days in a row, he memorised your streaming schedule. “who are these girls?” art questioned with a raised brow, puzzled as to why patrick would show him random camgirls, until he noticed he noticed you— fully naked while you held a vibrator against your swollen clit, causing his eyes to widen as he leaned closer to the laptop screen. “holy… fuck.” “yup. i know.”

and that’s how it all began. now, every day right before you would come online, patrick and art would sit impatiently next to each other on the bed, eagerly waiting for you to go live. “you think she’ll use that pink dildo again?” art asked patrick with clammy hands resting on his knees. “god, i hope so. that one’s my favourite.” and when you finally appeared on screen, a smirk spread simultaneously across both boys’ faces as they stared mesmerised at the screen, quickly adjusting their positions as their pants grew uncomfortably tight.

it was somewhat odd— it almost felt like video calling with you, as if you were touching yourself just for them, until they were hit with the harsh reality of the comments and countless men thirsting over you. the wave of comments flooding in during your streams, especially when you would interact with them, evoked a complex mix of emotions in patrick and art. they were consumed by jealousy— they wanted you for themselves, and they hated the fact that others could see what they saw. “jesus, these men are fucking desperate.” art exclaimed while reading the quick-paced comments with an unamused face. patrick shook his head in disapproval as he let out a chuckle. “i bet they’re all jerking off while watching her, fucking creeps.”

and ultimately… they found themselves becoming what they once criticised the most, as they’re now shoulder to shoulder in art’s stanford dorm room, hands tightly wrapped around their throbbing erections as they pumped it quickly. “this, uhm… this isn’t weird, right?” art questioned, his breaths coming in quick pants as your moans echoed through the shitty speakers of his cheap laptop. “no, no… i mean, we’re looking at her, right? nothing weird about that.” patrick reassured art as his eyes stayed fixed on your movements, and art nodded in agreement.

and even now, as they masturbated not only on their own to you but together, while watching you strip and bring yourself to your orgasms over and over again, they still hung out with you as usual. you noticed a change in their behaviour though— you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but they seemed more, nervous around you. you brushed it off quickly though, thinking it was just you. but little did you know they were indeed nervous to be around you now, as their eyes scanned every inch of your body covered in clothing, knowing that they had seen all of it— all of you, naked.

“do you… do you think we should tell her? that we know?” patrick asked art as they were once again, sitting in art’s dorm room, their hands lazily pumping their cocks. soft fucks and oh my gods slipped from your lips and resonated through the room along with the buzzing sound of your rose toy, which was the usual on fridays. “i mean, yeah, we should, eventually. maybe… uhm, next week… or something.” “yeah, yeah. next week.”

ੈ♡˳

🏷️ tags: @maizweig @swamp-box @oceandriveab @starkeysprincess @unhingedbanks @imawhoreforu @mcugirl @skylerwhitwyo @maybankswifey @hearts-4-kai @takaosin @imbabycowboy @badesire @parkerloves @diorrfairy @jizzlle

[imrllytootiredforthis]

The ‘bad’ kind of desire

pairing: soobin x reader

synopsis: you can't touch him, because he's too innocent, too sweet. but god you wish you could.

warnings: implied fem reader (can't remember if it's outright said), dom reader, sub soobin, masturbation, fingering, lowkey corruption kink, mentioned mommy kink, think that's really it

a/n: the first portion of this fic has been in my drafts since roughly july last year and was in my notes app for a few months - at least - longer than that so don't even ask me how old this really is, but at least it's out!!😭

“Am I bad person?”

Beomgyu scoffs, looking at you with eyebrows raised. He nearly laughs at the ridiculous statement coming from your mouth.

"What?"

And that makes him lose it, unable to even hold it back as he barks out a laugh, looking at you as if you've grown a second head. 

It’s a hard thing to fathom coming from you given that you’ve definitely never had any qualms about your morality when it comes to this kind of stuff. “Really? You’re asking me that?”

His best friend sits across the room, oblivious to the conversation, his headphones pulled over his ears, the game he’s playing flashing on the computer screen in front of him.

Soobin.

Sweet sweet Soobin, messy blonde hair left unbrushed, pajamas still on, not bothering to change as this was all he was planning to do all day.

Sweet Soobin who you can’t help but want to play with. 

Who you can’t help but imagine how pretty he’d look with tears in his eyes.

"I'm not fucking around Gyu-am I a bad person?"

You groan and flop over on the couch, rolling over to rest your head in Beomgyu’s lap, looking up at him with a comically-in his opinion-concerned expression. 

He gives you nothing but an exaggerated eye-roll. "Don't even start."

“But aren’t I?” You look again at the boy across the room, wondering why, why he had to be so stupidly adorable. His lips were twisted into a small pout and why it was so fucking cute.

Why? You wondered, feeling like this was all you were doing nowadays.

Beomgyu resists the urge to roll his eyes at you for the second time in a row, now at the way that you look at his best friend like some kind of lovesick fool, especially considering that all you really wanted was get into his pants. It didn’t really make sense, but hey, who was he to judge? 

“Why? Just because you want to rock his shit? Step on him and make him cry? That makes you question your morality? Out of everything that you've done?”

You gasp, slapping his chest. “He’s right there.” You hiss, not exactly denying the words.

He ignores that, shoving you off of him. He knows as well as you do that those headphones are the expensive noise cancelling ones that he'd gotten from you last Christmas. He barely hear himself yelling at his online teammates much less your hushed conversation.

You look at him as if you want to take him out on a nice picnic date and let him lay his head in your lap while playing with his hair pointing at clouds. Which Beomgyu couldn’t really see in any world, you were never really the type. 

But who knows? Maybe you were really just that eager for his dick at this point-or the more probable scenario-have him on your dick, that it broke something inside you.

“Why’re you so concerned now? Not like you had any issues with Yeonjun or Taehyun. Hell, you kept up everyone else in the dorms,” His voice goes higher as he attempts to poorly mock his roommates. “‘Y/N, more~’ ‘please, I need it-need y-‘“

“Shut the hell up.” You spit, quickly covering his mouth with your hand while your eyes flicker once more to him, still staring intently at his game.

Really, why were you so concerned now? 

Beomgyu was right. You’d had no problem doing the same to them, to Tae and Yeonjun, but they were different-he was different. 

Soobin was different than any of them. They were the product of having fun with someone you knew like the back of your hand and vice versa. Simply satisfying-albeit unimportant-a matter of getting your rocks off with people you knew could find your clit and would let you hit it from the back.

Soobin was Soobin though. The sweet boy who looked at you with the most innocent smile. 

Who got all blushy and embarrassed when you so much as lightly and non-vulgarly flirted with him.

He’d squeak and duck his head away when you called him bunny - again, non-vulgarly, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing and it turned him on-just a little bit.

In other words, painfully obviously, it was clear.

“He’s a virgin!” You hiss, hand still clamped over his mouth despite his garbled reply. You know just as well as Beomgyu knows how bitchless his friend is. Despite the fact that offers for him were nearly endless he was too shy, too awkward to accept said advances. “-I can’t take that away from him, it needs to be special, it needs-“

Your hand, still over his mouth is touched by something warm and wet and you shriek, pulling away quickly with a look of disgusted horror. “Are you serious right now?”

“Fight me bitch, I will not hesitate.” He growls, looking triumphant with the fact that you’ve now backed up to the edge of the couch.

You roll your eyes at him, looking once again at Soobin.

Fuck, why does he have to be so adorably innocent?

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, wiping at his mouth. "Just trust me, he'd be happy to be used by you. He might be a virgin, but he's nowhere near innocent."

"And what do you mean by that?" You sit against the arm of the couch, wiping Beomgyu's saliva onto the cushions.

He lets out a dry laugh, glancing back at Soobin before reaching for the previously forgotten remote control. "It means he wouldn't be as freaked as you think he would be if he found your sex toy collection."

—-

You suppose Soobin had always been special in some sort of way.

Always there over the span of time that you'd known all of them. Sitting off to the side while you hung out with the others. In his own room while you were fucking around with his other roommates. Playing his game while you were hanging out with Gyu.

He'd caught your eye more than once or twice, or three times over the years.

He was hot. You'd never discount that. Hot in the loser-y, adorable, cute, corruptible kind of way.

But then again, that kind of was your type if you thought about it.

You'd never been particularly close with him like you'd been with the others. He'd never made much effort to hang out with you but he was there when all the others were, if not one-on-one.

And he got really, really embarrassed when you tried to flirt with him like you did the others.

You didn't mind much, you'd just come under the impression that he was kind of scared of women. Which was also kind of cute.

But Beomgyu was right when he'd said that you'd never cared much about morals in the first place.

It didn't matter how close of friends or if they were a virgin or whatever other silly things that made things like that 'trivial'.

Life was too short to pretend you didn't feel things and besides. Sometimes, you really, just...didn't care.

And it wasn't personal, when you wanted someone, you would pursue it and if there was now friend groups you'd single handedly broken up, well they'd clearly made it personal themselves because you always made it very clear that there was no feelings involved.

Besides the raw, hot tension that made your skin tingle like your nerves were livewire.

Soobin was different though, special.

You felt bad for wanting him. For wanting to dirty him up.

He was something pure, something beyond and above you, perhaps and that was something you weren't willing to ruin, no matter what Beomgyu told you.

—-

"Fuck," he panted, "please,"

The room was dark, the light of his laptop being the only thing illuminating his face.

"Please,"

Sounds filled his ears through the crappy pair he'd owned for years, refusing to get wireless ones.

"Please."

"Bet you fucking like that, don't you?" The voice, only a few octaves higher than your own, still sent shivers down his spine.

Close enough.

"You're a such a dirty slut, you know?"

He whined into his sleeve, a sweater paw pressed over his mouth to keep the moans at bay. "I'm sorry, no, no please I'm sorry~" It wasn't doing a very good job muffling his voice though.

"I need it~"

The video seemed to respond to his desperate pleas. "If you need it so fucking bad then you'll be a good boy and wait for mommy's permission. You hear me?"

Or maybe he'd just watched this video so many times he'd memorized all of the male counterpart's lines. "Yes mommy," he panted, "I'll be good, I-I'll wait for your permission!"

He wouldn't. He knew he wouldn't.

He couldn't, as much as he prided himself on being a good boy. This time he knew he wouldn't even make it through the seven minute and thirty-two second video.

Not with you in the next room.

He couldn't tell if you were with Yeonjun or Taehyun. It didn't really matter either way.

Because he would only focus on you.

You weren't loud, having endured enough of Beomgyu's teasing and gripes about your sexual habits. He decided he hated Beomgyu for that.

But he could hear your pants through the paper-thin walls, heavy and followed by your quiet praises. "Sweet boy," you cooed, just as the porn on his laptop continued, "Naughty boy, such a messy little-" He ripped the earbuds out mid-sentence.

He wanted to hear you.

Not some substitute for the real thing.

He could imagine if you walked it on him right now.

Laying spread out on his bed, pants not even all the way off-just messily pulled below his hips, just enough for his dick to breathe properly and for his hand to easily slide up and down with the amount of pre-cum leaking from the tip.

"Fucking please." He moaned, quiet and needy.

You'd see him a mess, his soaked through sleeves catching the drool from his lips, teeth biting into the soft fabric to keep from crying out too loud.

You'd see him shamelessly fucking up into his fist, calling out pleas with no one there to hear him.

"C'mon baby, you can take it, take it all for me." Your voice was accompanied by the wet sounds of what, Soobin wasn't completely sure but his mind quickly conjured a few different theories. "That's it, a little more~"

Fuck him, he wished you were speaking to him.

Cockwarming him, your pussy wrapped around his dick, warm and wet and squeezing around him so good. Fluttering kisses over his face and throat as you teased along the length of him, slowly lifting up just to agonizingly sink back down onto him, clenching tight while he moaned into a kiss.

Or stroking him to another orgasm, making him cum again and again until his body was shaking and tears streaming down his cheeks. Telling him he could take more, do it one more time, for you. Because whatever pain you'd inflict would be worth it, after all it was your hands doing the damage.

"Fuck you look so pretty like this, just makes me wanna fucking wreck you. Turn you into a mindless whore on my dick."

Fuck, so that was what it was.

His mind managed to come up with one more picture through the haze.

You'd have his wrists pinned over his head with one hand, over him, keeping him down with a surprising amount of strength.

God, he could imagine the way you'd look at him. Maybe you'd be kind and gentle, sweet words and a sweet hand, fulfilling every one of his fantasies while calling him your sweet little bunny.

Like you were with whoever you were with on the other side of that wall.

But he doubted it. Or, he hoped not at least.

In his head you'd be meaner, crueler. Look at him with dark, hungry eyes and watch in a sadistic sort of glee when he cried, when he whined, when he begged and pleaded for more.

You'd thrust into him, hard and punishing, slowing down just to make sure that he wasn't crying from serious pain before you'd slam your hips against his, driving the tip of the toy dead into his prostate.

He'd beg you, plead you to slow down, to be nicer to him.

You'd tell him no. Tell him to be a good boy, voice patronizing and low, tell him only good boys get rewards.

God, that’s what he needed right now.

Needed you.

Your words, your touch, your scent, your presence even. You eyes on him, watching as he fell apart.

Not you fucking someone else in a different room.

Liquid heat flowed through his body, scorching and consuming every coherent thought.

"More."

He imagined it was you. Your hands all over him, pressing up against his throat, fondling his balls, purposely, maliciously ignoring where he needed to be touched most while you drove into him over and over and over until he was screaming in ecstasy.

It wasn’t enough, not nearly 

"You just love my cock, don't you angel? Love being fucked by me into a mindless whore?"

He silently cracked the lube open, lathering his fingers in it before letting them drift lower.

He'd done this before, but it had been awhile and the stretch was beyond overwhelming with your words ringing through the wall.

“You’re just a little angel, aren’t you, bunny?” And he pressed a finger inside, thrusting shallowly, breath picking up as you got louder.

"No, you're not an angel. You're a fucking whore, taking it like you were made for it, huh?" A second finger, following the first, scissoring himself open with a quiet gasp.

"Yeah? Fuck, is that it?" You laugh and he swears it's right in his ear, ringing through his head. "'m gonna make you scream for me baby,"

He whines in frustration, his fingers not deep enough - you not deep enough inside of him. No, he needs it deeper, harder.

More.

"Get on top of me baby, ride me," you mutter, so far but so close.

He can imagine, as he settles on his knees, that the pillow he straddles is you. That his legs are around your hips. That his fingers, positioning on the bed under him is your dick and your hands are pressing against his hips, holding him in place.

"You're mine, you hear that? Mine. My perfect little slut, taking my cock like a pretty little slut." His body trembles, eyes rolling back as he slowly sinks down onto three fingers.

"Your's." He moans in reply.

And finally, finally, he reaches his prostate, hitting it head on with his fingers.

Stars burst behind his eyelids as they slip shut, back arching into the intrusion. He could cry, he thinks distantly that he maybe is.

But it doesn't matter.

Because your hands are on his hips, controlling his movements, leading him the way you want him to ride your cock.

Up,

"Slut." You whisper.

and down,

"Whore." You lean up, teeth nipping at his neck but not hard enough to leave marks.

over,

"Baby," Breathing over the shell of his ear.

and over,

"Good boy~" Teasingly biting at his earlobe.

harder,

"Bunny," Kissing along his jaw.

faster,

"Mine." Across his cheek.

deeper.

Just barely there, ghosting across his lips-

"-Cum for me baby,"

And he does. With his mouth hung open, drool covered sleeve long forgotten over. With his eyebrows furrowed and body curled into itself, fingers pressed against his prostate.

Ropes of cum covering his chest, and his face. Some reaching his lips and his chin, staining his skin and landing in his open mouth.

"Fuck,"

And on the other side of the wall, "Good boy,"

a/n: i was thinking about making a part two but honestly if it took me a year to find the inspiration to finish this one, i'm not sure a second one will ever come out😭

[strawbeerossi]

Dress

Pairing: Husband!Spencer x Wife!Reader

Description: When you’re getting ready for an event over at Rossi’s, you express how you feel you don’t look your best in the dress you had your heart set on. Spencer is gonna do his best to show you just how beautiful that you are.

Content/Warnings: Body image issues, full body kissing, oral (f receiving), praise, pet names, just some good love and fluffy sex.

Word Count: 1.9K

Kinktober Day One: Body Worship

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

The dress looked so beautiful whenever you bought it. The black silhouette did good at hugging your frame, highlighting every dip and curve. Most people would’ve loved to wear a dress like this one, to steal all the attention of the night and feel nothing short of a beauty queen. It was elegant, a smooth velvet that showed poise. However, it didn’t really work out that way for you the more you looked at it without the presence of wine and the loving encouragement of your friends.

That’s why you found yourself standing in place, trying to smooth out what you deemed as imperfections that just wouldn’t go away. This was a nightmare.

“We are going to be late, my love.” Spencer called from his spot in the shared bedroom, looking in the standing mirror on the back of our door as he was fixing his tie. Formal events at Dave’s house were always a fun time. You’d actually managed to feel fancier than normal, the champagne and pleasant conversation adding onto that. You were also quite fond of the idea of socializing with some of the people who had known Dave or even the other members of the team at any step in their lives.

“I think I’m gonna have to pretend to be sick..” You sighed while making your way out of the bathroom, heels clicking against the wooden tile and catching Spencer’s attention. “Why would you pretend to be sick?” He asked, voice filled with concern as he was approaching you, his hands gently cupping your warm cheeks.

Now there are many answers that you could’ve come up with to deter from the overwhelming amount of insecurity festering inside of your mind and body from the dress that you so desperately needed to buy online. Marrying a profiler meant that he would be able to call you out on the lies.

You opted for honesty.

“I just..” Your eyes were trained on the mirror across the room. There was hatred for the sight looking back at you. In a way, it felt as if you were drowning in poor self esteem. Fuck this dress. Why did you have to pick one right off the rack without trying it on first? JJ told you that it was sleek, sexy. It felt the complete opposite. “I don’t like the way I look in this dress. I don’t have anything else to wear over to Dave’s house and I don’t know if I could show my face wearing this.”

There was no doubt that Emily, JJ, Tara and Penelope would be elegantly dressed with flattering attire that highlighted every positive about their bodies. While all having different body types, it was easy to see the beauty in each of them. They all had such well defined features, their bodies being sculpted from the finest stone. They were all four Persephone reincarnated.

Then there was you, the awkwardly shaped one who never felt like she fit in. Your hair wasn’t as nice as theirs, your teeth weren't as nice and perfect.. Sometimes you found yourself wondering why Spencer chose to marry you whenever he had such fine women on his team. The self deprecating thoughts were cut off by Spencer, a soft shushing sound leaving his lips. You’d been crying for a minute without realizing.

“I think,” He began while leaning forward to press his lips against yours. “That you look,” He continued on with his soft, sweet kisses as they moved to your jaw. “Absolutely,” His lips were soon on the flesh of your neck as he let his arms wrap around your waist. “Ravishing.” He finally finished, his hands running over your hips in an effort to soothe those wandering thoughts.

“You don’t believe me.” Spencer’s voice stayed steady, a frown forming on his face while you were blinking away a few tears.

“It’s okay, I will have to just show you just how beautiful you really are.” With his hands moving to the zipper of the dress, you could feel your cheeks heating up. “We are going to be late,” You spoke while letting your eyes fall shut as the wet kisses were slowly trailing down to your shoulders. “I think David would understand. Besides, I can promise you that it’ll be an all night affair.” He chuckled. Which, yeah.. That made sense. David Rossi could keep an event going all night if he truly wanted.

As the black dress pooled by your feet, you offered a shy smile as the kisses continued, your skin being filled with warmth from all of the love radiating off of Spencer’s lips from each kiss that was littered across the skin of your shoulders and collarbones. “Besides.. I’ve been punctual for the past fifteen years in every aspect. I think that I can be late just this once.” He chuckled, hands coming up to unclasp the black bra you’d picked out, letting it fall with the dress before he was lifting you in his arms, prompting you to let your arms to quickly wrap around his shoulders. “We shouldn’t take too long anyway.”

Your body hit the clean duvet when you were laid back on the bed, the cover still smelling of the sea breeze fabric softener that you’d become so obsessed with. Your husband’s lips continue to trail wet kisses across your skin, his hands running up your body as he was on his knees beside you. “You’re so beautiful, my love.” His words were soft, sweet. “Especially laid out like this for me.” You’d been nearly bare, panties separating your wet pussy from his loving gaze. His hands massaged the skin of your hips, lips littering more kisses around your chest area. “My perfect girl, I don’t know how a guy like me could be so lucky.” Love dripped onto your skin akin to the feeling of the bright sun shining against your skin on the hottest days. Your response came in the form of a soft breath, feeling his tongue flick over your right nipple.

His tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, the male humming in delight as he could feel it hardening at the wet muscle massaging over it. He knew the sensitivity of your body, his hands kneading at the warm flesh of your breasts. You were reduced to soft moans, encouragement for more as your fingers tangled in the once neatly styled curls. “Fuck, Spence.” Your words were a melody to his ears, the male not always being so fond of partaking in swearing or really listening to it. However, whenever you did? He enjoyed it. That meant he was doing his job in the intimate positions that you both had found yourselves in.

Pulling off with a loud ‘pop’ filling the room, the honey colored irises were focused on your face, still contorted in pleasure as his hands were massaging your tits with his large hands. He repeated the same action with the opposite nipple, one hand dropping and his fingertips trailing down your skin, the goosebumps on your body standing at attention as his thumb was pressing against your clothed clit, hips wiggling in an effort for more.

Who was Spencer to deny his amazing wife the pleasure that she so desperately deserved?

Even if he didn’t want to, the male was detaching his mouth from your chest while his long fingers were hooking into the waistband of your panties. Your hips lifted out of instinct, body feeling hotter than ever as you were desperate to feel more of the touch you craved in the place that you needed it most.

After the panties were tossed somewhere behind him, the male let his hands carefully push your thighs apart, eyes focused on your slick cunt that looked more beautiful than he could put into words. His mouth was agape at the sight, those pretty honey eyes slowly disappearing in the black of his pupils.

“Fuck,” The swear was rare, yet hearing it fall from his voice in the dulcet tone never failed to surprise you.

“We’ve got twenty minutes before Dave starts calling,”Spencer spoke while glancing at the alarm clock, eyes falling on the mouthwatering sight nestled between your thighs. “So, think you can do it?”

The question was rhetorical. He knew by now how your body operated.

Before you could answer, his face was disappearing between your thighs, lips pressing kisses to your inner thighs as he sucked and nibbled at your skin. Leaving hickies between your legs was the best place, mainly because they were for his eyes only. It wasn't something unprofessional to where you couldn’t go to work without covering up. Less headache. The man was practical.

His tongue lapped over your clit as he was delving in, eyes fluttering shut. His favorite place had to be between your thighs. Stressful case? He’s licking and sucking your wet cunt from the safety of your hotel room. You want intimacy but he’s not in the mood for sex himself? He’s disappearing under the sheets.

He was intoxicated by your sweetness, drinking in every ounce of arousal that you were so happily giving him. His tongue ran alongside your velvety inner walls, your pussy spasming from the muscle that was darting in and out of you, having to alternate between your clit and your core.

Your hands were tangled in the now messy curls, your back arching off the mattress while the sounds of your moans and cries filled the room in addition to the suckling and groans coming from your husband, who was so focused on licking every inch of you.

You felt the familiar warmth deep in your stomach, a knot tightening inside of you as your pulsating walls were closing in on Spencer’s tongue. With your hands shoving his face deeper into your weeping pussy. “I’m gonna cum, Spence.” You panted out, eyes fluttering shut as your head tilted back against the pillow behind your head.You know that you couldn’t hold back any longer, your body giving every indication that it was ready to unleash a wave of ecstasy.

The man licking and sucking didn’t let up, his hands having to hold your hips down as your orgasm was building. The more you wiggled and thrashed, the more that he knew that it was coming.

“I-” You tried to get out, however that didn’t work out in your favor as a moan was chasing what was supposed to come out of your mouth. Your legs were shaking as you were finally hitting release, your nails digging into your husband’s scalp while your mouth was agape.

The warm muscle was licking and cleaning up your thighs before you were seeing your husband’s face again. His chin was wet and his hair was an absolute mess as he rubbed your thighs.

“Let's get you in that pretty dress and get to Rossi’s.” He breathed, letting his teeth playfully bite at your inner thigh before he was pushing himself up.

Which you didn’t argue, the post sex haze making it difficult to speak. Even after you were redressed and Spencer had his hair fixed once more, he was coming to wrap his arms around your waist as he noticed you in front of the mirror.

“Feeling better? Cause I promise that you are going to be the most gorgeous woman there, you’re gonna have all of Rossi’s friends flirting with you.” He mused, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as you let out an airy laugh.

“Let’s get going, hmm? I need my beauty queen to make me look good.” He offered his arm out to you as they linked together, his free hand on your arm as you both made your way downstairs.

[satorusugurugurl]

Toji as a bodyguard

Til’ the Day that I Die

Summary: You’re a popstar in need of a bodyguard when you find yourself with a stalker. That’s how you meet Fushiguro Toji, you’re insanely hot bodyguard. Who knows how to push your buttons, and get you feeling flustered. Just how far is he willing to go to protect you? And how far would you go to protect him?

Pairing: Bodyguard!Fushiguro Toji x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: mentions of stage right, performance, anxiety, stalking, panic attacks, language mentions of gun, (eventual smut)

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: this request is amazing!! It got my brain worms going! Once again, this will be a multi part series, I’m looking at a total of four parts as I have already planned down the whole story. I’m sorry for the lack of content, it’s been a rough few days and I just decided to take some time for myself! But I do have about four stories almost done so you can expect updates for the rest of the week! Love you all!! (Readers' stage persona is highly inspired by several artists! 😊)

Part Two Part Three Part Four

Performance anxiety is defined as an excessive feeling of fear related to being able to perform well. Symptoms of performance anxiety include pulse racing, rapid breathing, dry mouth, and throat tightness. Dealing with performance anxiety when you're a rising star is brutal, and you begin to regret all your life choices. You aren't sure if you want this to be your life. You were attending nursing school, but your sister posted a video of you singing online. Reading all the sweet comments was fun initially, but it's funny how fast things change.

One second, you were posting a few videos of you singing, and the next thing you knew, you had a record deal, your songs were on the radio, and you were performing at concerts. All in the span of six months. The attention was overwhelming, and, at times, your anxiety even worse. But the more you performed, the more you were able to bury the stage fright down, masking the fear with a persona you made until you were home in your apartment. In the confines of your home, you could cry and tremble; dealing with those attacks was something you’d gotten used to.

But your stalker was a whole new fucked up mess you never dreamed about dealing with.

It had started as nothing more than a couple of love letters that turned into more descriptive letters detailing information about your personal life you had never told anyone. Anytime you saw a letter come in with ‘M’ written on the front and dark gray ink, your stomach twisted. You at first thought you would be okay. You could handle something like this. This was the kind of thing that came along with the territory of being famous.

That was until a bouquet of roses was dropped off at your door in your guarded apartment building. That whole situation sent you into a full-blown panic attack. You left your apartment and went to stay with your friends. That incident caused your manager to contact Kong Security Services and hire you as a bodyguard. One, you were anxiously waiting to meet as you sat in your dressing room before your show.

“It’s going to be fine, I promise.” Nanako, your makeup artist, assured you as she fixed your blush. “Geto said this agency is the best in the business.”

You shot her a skeptical look while her twin sister fixed your hair. “Are you just saying that because your dad’s are my managers, and they told you to say that?” When both twins had ceased their movements in obvious shock at your to-the-point accusation.

“W-What—?”

“No, never!”

“Uh-huh—I don’t believe a word either of you are saying right now.”

Nanako steps back, looks you over, and bites her lip. “They really are the best, whether or not we get to go out for Boba after this. It’s not like sweet milk tea is on the line if we don’t ease your nerves.” Just as your sweet young makeup artist finishes, the door to your dressing, eyes darting towards the door as it swings further open. Suguru and his husband, Satoru, enter, displaying their matching black-and-white wedding rings. They were the best management company in the world, the power couple of Tokyo. Satoru, who was in charge of your social media accounts, types viciously on his phone while Suguru grins up at a man walking in with them.

If you could even call him a man.

A fucking mountain of muscle is a more appropriate way of describing him. He’s tall, has dark hair and navy blue eyes, and he’s fit. The mountain wore a tailored jacket and white button-down shirt with the first two buttons undone. His eyes leave Geto’s for a minute to watch you sinking further in your chair, his pink tongue running over the scar down the corner of the right side of his mouth.

“Hun, this is Fushiguro Toji,” Suguru announced before glancing at his phone. “He’s your bodyguard and will be with you everywhere you go.”

“E-Everywhere?”

“Yes, to rehearsals, your shows, meet-and-greets, he’ll even escort you home.” Your eyes rammed back over to the mountain of a man standing off to the side. When you have time off, or he needs a day away, his work partner Tsukumo Yuki will take over for him.”

You swallowed hard, fingers twitching, a subtle action your new bodyguard noticed immediately as you dug your fingers into your skirt. It was part of Toji‘s job to see behaviors and be observant. He could tell you were on edge from how your fingers twitched to how your pulse raced in your neck. His handler, Shiu, had warned him that you were an anxious mess after finding out about your stalker. But this anxiety didn’t come from just having a stalker. This anxiety was deeply rooted in you. It was probably something you had suffered with for years.

Without being told, Toji stepped forward, kneeling before you, giving you a gentle smile like a father would give a frightened child. He had to put your nerves at ease to let you know you would be okay. “I know you’re scared, but I can assure you that I am very skilled. You won’t even notice I’m around.” You weren’t sure about that. How could you not notice the handsome man who would always be around you?

“Right, thank you.”

“You’re welcome--”

“Ugh! We gotta get going; they expect you on stage in five minutes.”

“I-I s-shou—” you stuttered as the performing anxiety began to root itself into your already anxious demeanor.

“Yep, let’s get going.” Toji stood motioning towards the door of the dressing room. “After you, Miss.”

Being a bodyguard and a security escort for so long had allowed Toji to pick up on specific cues from people, like how their eyes moved around the room or how their body language told him what they were feeling. The way your fingers were twitching, he knew you were nervous and scared, and he wasn’t sure if it was stage fright or something to do with your stalker.

Regardless of whether you wanted to go up there, it didn’t change the fact that thousands of people were already waiting for you to perform. As you both walked down the hall, Tojo noticed you took a deep breath and exhaled through your nose, and as you turned the corner, you put on a huge smile. The way you put in a mask so fast nearly sent Toji stumbling back. He was usually prepared for the unexpected, but seeing this scared, shaking woman shift into a bubbly pop star rocked him back.

Everyone you encountered smiled wide at your perky voice and demeanor. You truly lit up the whole room. “Alright, guys! Thank you for all your hard prep! Now, let’s have a great show tonight!” You were handed a jeweled microphone and placed on a platform to lift you to the main stage, but before you gripped the handles to steady yourself, Toji grabbed your hand. “Oh, Fushiguro?”

“I'll be on the side, watching you. If you need me or notice something's off, you should give me a sign.”

“A sign? Like a signal?”

“Yeah, something easy and inconspicuous.”

You thought for a second, that perky look still on your face, but Toji could see the anxiety behind your eyes. “Well, I wink a lot during my shows and throw a heart sign up.” Toji hummed, pursing his lips together.

“Well, if you don't want to alarm your fans, how about this.” he took your hand, putting your middle and ring finger down. Your thumb, pinky, and pointer finger were left extended.

“Oh, the sign for ‘I love you’!”

“Only use this if you need me on stage. Otherwise, do what you normally do, but know I’ll be right there if you need me.”

There was a flicker of fear in your eyes, which probably would go unnoticed by many different people, but it was one that he could see clearly as day. “Right, thank you, Fushiguro.” Your new bodyguard looked at you as he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Toji, just call me Toji. There is no need for formalities. Have a good show, Miss.”

“R-Right, thank you, Toji.”

Your new bodyguard watched as the platform began to lift, taking you up to the stage where fans were screaming your name. Taking a deep breath before smiling, your bodyguard watched you reach the top before the band blaring music as you began singing into your microphone. The beat of the music rang in his ears; Toji ran for the stairs that led him to the stage, where he could watch you from the side.

There, Toji found your managers standing on the sidelines, watching you. Upon looking at you, he met a woman who looked nothing like the girl he had just spoken to moments before. You danced, sang, smiled, and winked at the crowd. Multicolored lights flashed as fog from the fog machine flooded the stage, and the backup dancers moved in sync with each other. I think this is poor, who was shaking upon meeting him.

“Yeah, crazy to see her shift, isn’t it?” Geto asked before pulling his phone out and snapping a few photos of you as you sang. “She’s like a different person.”

“Like? I hate to be the one to break this to you, Geto, but that woman is a completely different person. Why the fuck is she masking?”

The white-haired man glared at Toji, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. “She’s not masking; it's called a stage persona.” The annoyance was clear in the other man’s voice, a tone that crawled its way under his skin.

“Look, buddy, keep your terms to yourself. I don't care about the different terms. All I know is that woman—” he jabbed his thumb in your direction as you twirled around the stage. “is masking; that’s not who she is.”

“You don’t know a lot about the entertainment industry. This is something that a lot of celebrities do. It’s completely normal, and she knows that. That’s how she adapted so fast.”

Toji wasn’t sure if that was the case. He had seen you firsthand, shaking in your dressing room. To see you change drastically for the sake of a show? Toji could see why you would be nervous to go up on stage. There had to be a fear of your mask slipping, revealing your true persona to the world.

But Satoru was right; Toji’s job was to protect and ensure you were safe. It wasn’t his place to judge how you lived or worked your career. In the end, you were just like all the other popstar divas and clients he had had before. Rich people with too much money to throw around and fame led them to believe that they were in danger all the time, which is how he managed to keep a steady income for himself and his kids as long as they were rich snobs like you, Tojo was guaranteed to have a job.

Instead of continuing to argue with your overzealous manager, Toji crossed both arms over his chest and watched you closely. The sooner the show was over, the sooner he could get you back to your apartment, where he could call to check on Megumi. He just wanted to relax, and for all he knew, you and your managers were overreacting to this so-called stalker you had. If anything, this might’ve been some cruel prank; receiving a note to roses wasn’t that big of a deal, and this was way too easy for as much as he was getting paid, so he wasn’t going to bitch about it.

What he did want to bitch about was how fucking long your show went on for. Performed for about two hours straight, only taking breaks to change costumes throughout the performance. It was in those moments when you were changing that your mask slipped. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes and how you wanted to do nothing more than take a break. But as fast as that mask slipped, you had it back on instantly. When one costume was off, and the other slipped on, you were back on stage to sing the next song.

After about two hours and thirty minutes of this bullshit, you gave a final bow and blew kisses out at the crowd of strangers who were cheering your name. While the two hours he got to stand up to the side and watch you perform was easy, he only had to look for your signal if you needed help; getting you out of the arena safely was a whole different story. Everything moved so fast The second you stepped off that stage and towards your bodyguard.

After every show, the goal was the same: get changed as fast as possible, collect your stuff, which Nanako and Mimiko had already packed, and get in your limo before the crowd started heading towards your exit. Toji gently placed his hand on the small of your back, ushering you through the maze of halls that led you back to the dressing room, where, just like you knew, the girls had packed all your stuff.

“You got five minutes to change,” Suguru announced as Satoru snickered behind his husband. “Thanks to Satoru, you’re trending again for your newest song.”

Toji could see the minutey, perky personality shift into your more anxious state. You frowned, literally frowned, at the news. Most people would be jumping over the moon to hear it. Seeing such an ungrateful expression on your face had Toji resist the urge to roll his eyes into his skull.

Spoiled little brats, you rich folks were all the same.

“Did you make sure to tag the—“

“Are you insinuating that I don’t know who to tag or which hashtags to use? Babes, I've got you covered. When have I ever let you down?”

“Never.”

“Right, so let the best PR manager handle this.”

Toji sighed, glancing towards his watch. “Two minutes,” he announced to the room of people bouncing off the walls and collecting items to clean up the green room. How could your managers be talking about more brand deals at a time like this? Brand deals were bullshit, but knowing how popular you were with the teenagers and you probably had some make-up deal or some other shit that would make you all the richer, you had to make sure the right people were tagged so you continued to be sponsored. But there was a time and place for that, and now wasn't the right time!

“I know you're the best Satoru, but I still wanna make sure the word gets out there.” You stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in black leggings and a simple T-shirt. Completely different from the baby doll dresses you were wearing on stage. “It’s imperative—”

“I know. I’ve already posted it. Everyone’s been tagged accordingly, and the hashtags are in place. You’ll get lots of people to see this, trust me.”

You were slipping on your baseball cap and sunglasses when Toji’s large hand gently grabbed you by the shoulder. “We gotta get going,” you sighed before nodding, waving off your team, and falling Toji down the hall to where your car awaited you.

Thanks to your quick change, nobody was waiting for you outside, making your getaway from the arena smooth as butter. You just wished you felt as calm as your exit from the bustling stage had been. You were beginning to regret going back to your apartment. You hadn’t been back there since the roses were delivered to your door. Going back was going to be difficult, leaving your stomach swarming with anxiety. But at least you had a big mountain of a man to protect you if, god forbid, you needed help.

The entire ride back to your apartment complex was thankfully quiet. Toji sat on the other side of you, staring out the window, not making any conversation, which was a blessing. Not only was your throat sore from the amount of singing you had done, but the idea of sitting through a conversation run solely by small talk was almost as bad as your performance anxiety. Sitting in the back of the car, leaning your head against the window without worrying about smiling or acting perfect in front of strangers, was a breath of fresh air.

Being alone with your bodyguard made you feel like you could let your walls come down for the first time in a long time. It was a feeling you might as well get used to. He would be around most of the time, so instead of adorning the perfect, pretty mask you always wore, you could be the introverted true version of yourself. Knowing that you could relax, you shut your eyes, allowing yourself to doze off as the car smoothly headed down the freeway.

If only your dreams were smooth and calm like the car ride. Your dreams were filled with mysterious notes and roses you had once loved. They circled you, drowning you in paper and petals as a roaring crowd rang through your ears. You could fight against the tidal waves, but instead, you let them wash over you, allowing yourself to be crushed by the unbearable weight of being a star at times.

Nursing school wasn’t easy, but at least when you were in school, you didn’t have to worry about a mysterious bouquet showing up on your apartment doorstep or sneaking out to avoid getting seen and swarmed by your fans. Your biggest concern in school was getting good grades and doing everything possible to get your degree. The only things you had to worry about were study dates and pop quizzes, not ominous letters that made you fearful for your safety.

These nightmares were so vivid that you wished your family had heard you singing online. Was it too much to ask for a normal everyday life where you weren't constantly stressed?

You sighed, looking up at the lingering rays of light that slowly began to peek through. More envelopes and roses piled on the cocoon you were stuck in. Perhaps there was no going back. This might very well be the rest of your life. Just as you were shutting your eyes to the casket you were being buried in, a hand reached out from the top of the mountain of dread and anxiety you lived with, reaching for you.

You couldn’t make out who was reaching out to you, but you were sure they just wanted to help you. Without hesitation, you reached for that hand, brushing over their fingertips. Just when they clasped your hand to pull you out of the burial ground, you were jn. You gasped as someone shook you, waking you from the dream.

You sat up quickly, shaking as you met Tojo’s navy blue eyes. He was frowning, motioning towards the rolled-down window, and Ijichi, head of security for your building, leaned in, giving you a weak smile. With a quick rub to both your eyes, you placed your mask back on, going from the sleep-deprived woman you were transforming into the perky popstar everybody knew and loved.

“Ijichi! Hi!”

“Hi yourself, glad to have you back.”

Toji could see how your shoulders stiffened when you mentioned being back. “Oh, yep! It's good to be back.” Toji could see through your facade, while Ijichi was blind to it.

“I just wanted to let you know that we added more cameras to the building, and my security post will be far stricter with deliveries and anything else from this point on. We want you to feel safe here, and I’m sorry we failed to do that in the first place.”

“Oh no, it’s not your fault! Plus, I feel a lot better now that I have Fushiguro!” The man with glasses peered into the car, waving at your bodyguard whose face remained stoic, not returning the gesture. “Okay, uhm Ijichi, Toji; Toji Ijichi.”

No pleasantries were exchanged, not at all. The only thing Toji managed to do was give him a nod before focusing his attention back on the massive building and making a mental note to ask for access to the cameras. That way, he could keep an eye on you and ensure nobody was hanging around who wasn't supposed to be there. Those thoughts Toji was lost in made it a tranquil ride up the elevator to your apartment. He was leaving you feeling even more anxious. Usually, being around someone quiet never bothered you; you felt so relaxed around that person, but Toji’s cold demeanor and attitude toward your friend made you irritable.

“So, uhm, are you going to be that cold and standoffish every time you meet somebody I know?” You asked, finally allowing your heart mind to win over your mind.

“Huh?”

His dark gaze had you swallowing the lump suddenly in your throat. “I wanted to ask if this is going to be normal, you being—.”

“Oh, I am so sorry little star; I wasn't aware I needed to wear a fake ass mask around people too.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, and unfortunately, unlike you, I like wearing my face. I don’t have to be someone I’m not to get people to like me. Because quite frankly, I don’t give a damn if anybody likes me.”

“I don't eit—”

Toji scoffed, leaning against the elevator wall and shaking his head at your words. “Oh, please. You’re just like every other client I’ve had. All you care about is money, your appearance, and what sponsor deals you get.” His words made your blood begin to boil.

“You’ve barely known me for a couple of hours, and you think you know who I am?”

“Oooh yeah, you're some small-town girl that made it big. And instead of showing the world who you really are, you put on this fucking mask, one that hides the true you from the prying eyes of the world. You care only about ticket sales, making your fans happy, and sponsorships like the one you were talking about with your manager not even thirty minutes ago. So yeah, I’m sure I got a good idea of who you are. It’s my job to read people..”

This was the best security in the business; bodyguard your manager had set you up with? Ha! Yeah, right, this man was nothing more than a dickhead that had a lot of opinions that were far from true?!

You laughed, pushing yourself away from the wall to stand in front of the doors before him. “That's the great thing about wearing a mask around people I don’t fucking know. They get to see the real me, but I get to see people for who they truly are.” Toji opened his mouth to continue arguing with you, but only for you to quickly shut him down, holding a hand up before you. “You were right about a couple things; I do put on a mask, I love my fans, but I could give a damn about sponsorships.” Toji pushed himself off the wall, towering over you, gritting his teeth as he tried to control his evident anger.

“Oh, you suddenly don’t give a damn about sponsorships? I just heard you talking to your manager about one.”

“You don’t know anything about me! That whole conversation had nothing to do with this sponsorship!”

Tojo tilted his head back with a laugh. “Oh, right, of course. You don’t care about your amazing condo or all the money you’re making; you don’t care about those so-called nonexistent sponsorship deals.” The elevator rattled like the lid to the rage threatening to explode.

“Alright, yes, I do live in a nice apartment, one with security that sucks, but it’s still home. But for your information, I don’t do this for the money. You don’t know what I have planned on doing with my life, so I don’t want to hear you make assumptions about me! The conversation you so rudely eavesdropped on had nothing to do with a sponsorship deal but a massive donation I’m making to the local Children’s Hospital. The same hospital is well renowned for helping unfortunate children. So yeah, that whole conversation you listened to was me telling my manager to tag the hospital in my video because the hospital inspired the song! It was a public service announcement, a reminder to help those who can’t help themselves.”

Your rant was unexpected. Toji had never had one of his clients talk to him like that; strangely, he liked it.

“And another thi—”

The doors to the elevator slowly slid open with a ding as you reached your apartment. Usually, your automatic lights would be on in the living room and kitchen, leading upstairs. But as the doors opened, no lights illuminated your bodyguard's face. You knew something was wrong, and just before Toy could look over your shoulder into the apartment,Toji’s hand quickly covered your eyes. He pulled you into his chest, and he listened in as he smashed on the lobby button on the button panel.

“Toji!?” You asked, placing your hands on top of his. “What is it?! Is something wrong? Let me see!”

Toji shook his head as if you could see his reaction, his hand reaching for the gun at the holster on his side as the door slowly shut. There was no way in hell you were going to see what was behind the door. Because he knew if you were to see what had happened in your apartment, you would never be the same. As the elevator slowly began to descend, Toji realized that he had been wrong about your stalker. It wasn’t some harmless joke.

This was fucking serious.

(TBC)

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

[etherealily]

𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙎𝙃 // Nate Jacobs.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Dark. SFW, but discretion advised.

Part 2 : 9 Lives

Part 3 : Blessed

Part 4 : Shards

Part 5 : Eighteen

Part 6 : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc.: You're needed. Now.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

It's not like you even knew Nate.

You knew of him, sure, quarterback and shit, but still, it was unlikely your paths would ever cross.

Until they did.

Until he started following you on Instagram.

That shit... was so unbelievably odd that you almost blocked him because you thought it was a fake account. But then you saw the mutuals. Holy shit. This was legit.

The fact that his account was private didn't surprise you. Yours was public because you had nothing to post and his was private because he had everything to hide.

You sent him a request. No biggie. I mean, he had to accept, right? He was the one who followed you first - it was only fair. And if it took too long, then you could always unsend it, yeah? Yeah.

It didn't take too long. It barely took three minutes.

Okay. Cool. Weird but cool.

The next day at school, it was normal. You didn't acknowledge him, and he didn't acknowledge you. An average social media interaction. Good.

--------

Come Friday evening, you decided that watching Maddy cheer was a little less important than your deadline and building your portfolio.

She absolutely supported you (rolled her eyes and said 'whatever, nerd. You still love me, right?') but was a little upset about it (pouted and called you a cunt).

Three hours went by, and you surprised yourself with the amount of work you were getting done. This is great. Friday evening well spent. Work a bit more, and then-

Nate Jacobs tagged you in a Close Friends story.

Close Friends? Tagged? NATE JACOBS?

Okay, one : no fucking way were you on his Close Friends.

Two : there were virtually zero pictures of the two of you, so tagging you was moot.

Three : there was supposed to be a game starting about fifteen minutes from now, Blackhawks versus whatever pretentious team they were going to beat, so why the fuck was he even online?

(Oh, yeah, the Blackhawks were absolutely fucking awesome.)

The story was only text. Text and nothing more.

Y/N, accept my message request. Now. I am not fucking around.

What message request? WHAT the fuck was going on?

You frowned, immediately scrolling over to messages. Shit. There was a request.

A picture, along with six other messages.

This was so strange. It was especially strange that he found the time to text you, when he was supposed to be practicing throwing the old pigskin around for the victory of his school. But text you he did. As if him following you wasn't enough to give you whiplash. "Yo."

"You're not here." No shit, Sherlock.

"You should be."

What the hell was that supposed to mean? This was the most excruciatingly awkward interaction you'd ever had.

"You should be here. Come."

Did he think he was super macho with all this mysterious, vague, one-word bullshit he was spewing? You know what, you'd actually bet your entire school tuition he did. But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of asking why.

"U don't just send requests to random people. Don't act like you don't know me. Don't ignore my texts."

"I'm fucking losing it. Come now or else."

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

This was the most random thing to ever happen to you. Nate Jacobs, some random jock you never even said one word to, was texting you as if you had been best friends since two years old and you had always been all rah-rah-go-team for him.

You were almost scared to open the picture. Instagram asked you if you were sure. Once, twice. You should have listened. But you didn't, and you were about to face the consequences.

Red. That was the first thing you saw, and the first thing that had ever grossed you out enough to physically throw your phone away.

So much red.

Above the red, concealed almost cruelly, was a black box with white text in it. For a moment, your eyes were overwhelmed, so overwhelmed with the monstrosity in front of you that you couldn't even begin to comprehend what the words meant. You picked your phone back up, squinting your eyes and blocking out the rest.

He must have noticed you accepted his request, because you saw 'Typing...' pop up way too fast for him not to have been waiting.

"I'll cut deeper if you don't show up."

Nate Jacobs was a cruel and manipulative bastard of a man who you would happily let die.

But not like this.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

You glanced at the screen and then back at the road, from time to time. There was no indication that he was typing. The 'online' sign still stayed. Okay. So he either just threw his phone away while still on your chat or he was about to-

Nate Jacobs started an audio call.

Clearly tonight wasn't going to be the night you stayed in and finished all your assignments, like you'd decided.

"Pick up or I'll fucking kill you."

Yup, that sounded about right.

You laughed, incredulously. The genuine threat wasn't lost on you, but what else does one do in this situation besides laugh at the absurdity of it all?

Better safe than sorry. You swiped up.

"Y/N, please just come."

It felt so weird to hear him say your name. It felt even weirder to hear him say 'please'.

"Why?"

"You need to be here." His voice was unwavering.

"Look, Jacobs, I'm sorry, but I have projects and assignments to work on. Not to mention, my portfolio-"

You wanted to see how far you could take it. He couldn't hear your car's sounds, and he couldn't possibly track your location, so according to him, you were still sitting at home, petulantly.

If he was joking, he'd just cuss you out drunkenly. If he wasn't, he'd... keep begging.

"Jesus fuck, Y/N, just come!"

"I can't. I'm sorry."

Keeping your calm was the best thing you'd ever done for yourself, the greatest form of self-care you could give yourself, because Nate Jacobs sensing nervousness was like sharks smelling blood in the water. Quick and bad.

"I have important shit, too, you know? Scouts are here, Y/N, please!"

"Look-"

"Coach, I know, just five more minutes - FUCK, Y/N, you gotta come.", he pleaded, his tone becoming far too pathetic to brush off.

"Why?"

"Why? Whaddayamean why?", he huffed out, frustrated, as if you were supposed to know this already.

2 + 2. What galaxy we live in. The colour of the sky. Why you were needed at the game. According to this asshole, all these things were common knowledge.

"I will cut deeper."

"Stop bullshitting, Jacobs."

You hoped to god that your voice didn't betray your bewilderment. This better be a sick fucking joke.

"I'm cutting."

"Stop."

"Coach says the five minutes are up, but I won't play without you here."

A video. SHIT. FUCK.

"What the fuck is your problem?!"

Actually, no. This better not just be a joke, because if the entire school was in on this shit, you would end up cutting him.

The grunts of pain and sharp inhales from his side of the call got more and more grotesque as you pulled into the school parking lot.

The school had an unsettling vibrancy to it after hours, and this was only exacerbated by the fact that you were supposedly the cause for a boy to slice through his own skin. It shouldn't have seemed this vibrant, this overwhelming, this vivid, this.... bright, but it did. The world moved at an eerily quick pace, like a carnival ride on LSD.

As you ran across the parking lot and gripped the gate to the stadium and basically swung right past it, you finally realized how fucking loud a crowd could be.

It was like they knew that their QB might be bleeding out because of you, because they seemed to scream loud enough to torture you for eternity.

Immediately manhandled by Chris McKay -another jock you had absolutely no connection to, but who seemed to have a very personal grudge against you-, you were pushed out of the locker rooms as quickly as you came in. Fuck's sake.

"Let me go , McKay!"

"Coach is trying to calm him down, and if he sees you, we got no idea what he might do, okay? OKAY?", he ordered, sternly, through clenched teeth as he shook your shoulders.

He was earnestly trying to be calm and gentle, but his fingers gripping harder and harder into your arms did jackshit to help his case.

"Okay."

He nodded, sighing in some emotion that seemed oddly like relief.

What, did he expect more of a fight? Did he expect you to be all 'no, I gotta see him now?'

You had no clue who the hell this bastard was, let alone what he wanted. No way were you going to kick and shout for him.

"What the fuck is his problem?", you asked, sighing against McKay's chest, exhausted.

He shrugged, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "He's stressed about the game."

"So he cuts himself in my name? We don't even know each other, dude!"

"Okay, he isn't exactly the one you go to for rationality, alright?"

"Yo, the fuck's going on, man? The game was supposed to start-"

The other team's captain.

"Yeah, we're just, uh, dealing with a situation over here.", assured McKay, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from going ballistic at Nate. Or you. Most likely Nate. But even more likely you. "Tell your coach we're so sorry, and we'll be out in a minute, tops."

The other guy scoffed, grumbling as he stomped away, glaring more at you than McKay. What, did everyone know now?

"He thinks we're trying to hook up before the game.", explained McKay, patiently, almost embarrassed. "It's a thing some athletes do, 'for luck'."

Jocks were the weirdest fucking aliens to ever exist.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

Crimson traced paths through the blinding white of the bandages wrapped tightly like dependent vines around his palm. Noticing the lack of uniformity of white, Coach tsked. "We need more. McKay!"

"Yes, Coach?"

"One more, then you can send her in."

"She came?" Nate's voice, though feeble and exhausted - and now, hopeful - was heard through the tiny gap in the door that McKay made sure would remain tiny as he passed the last bandage to him, and you didn't want to admit it, but it broke your heart.

Ew. Nate Jacobs was breaking your heart?

Coach finished wrapping Nate up, and McKay guided you in, with both measured aggression and protectiveness.

Nate's eyes lifted and brightened up immensely, a feat you'd only thought possible by a lone spark igniting and breaching every inch of a dry leaf.

"You came."

"Son, I don't know what the hell you were thinking-"

"No, no, Coach, she's here, we can play."

Everyone stopped breathing at that moment. What the hell did the self-wounding quarterback asshole just say?

"What'd you just say, Jacobs?"

"We can play. Y/N's here. This isn't my good palm, anyway, so it's fine. Let's go."

And just like that, Nate was back. The amount of theses that could be written on this sheer anomaly of a man, the amount of studies that could be conducted, the amount of shock anyone else in this situation would go through- all unheard of.

No one else could handle it, though, besides all the people right there in the room. The best friend : self-taught and well-versed in handling him, the Coach : the authority figure that could calm him down with a bunch of fatherly words and....

And you : no one knew what the fuck you brought to the table. But something told you no one else would have survived in your shoes.

"Alright... then...?" Even Coach was absolutely speechless.

Nate nodded briskly, shooting up with a sudden burst of energy as he smiled at you.

Smiled.

Ladies and gentlemen : Nate Jacobs was on crack, confirmed.

He drew you in against his chest with an extremely unprecedented jerk, and you locked eyes with McKay behind him as he did so.

Not crack. Probably fent.

Your questioning gaze- which obviously said 'what in the everloving fuck is he doing?' - was met with a shrug and a look which suggested he barely even recognized his best friend right now.

"Okay, let's go WIN this motherfucker!", shouted Nate, patting your shoulder and loudly clapping his hands together before sprinting out of the locker rooms into the cheering football field.

It was dressed entirely in Blackhawk colours and bathed in a fluorescent, sickeningly pale light that you had to now spend an hour and a half in. Ugh.

Whiplash or not, you were about to throw up.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

You know those moments after a surreal event? When you just... sit. Stare into space and... ruminate.

You were having one of those in your car. The game had ended, really well, too, with the Blackhawks winning by a landslide. Your windshield had never held such secrets before. You stared through it.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Bang.

You turned. Nate Jacobs' fist fell on your window more times than you thought was necessary. 'Unlock the door, Y/N.'

You shook your head. Not a fucking chance in hell.

"'Y/N, don't be difficult, unlock the fucking door."

Something in you told you that that would be the worst mistake of your entire life.

"I'm sorry, I just want to talk, yeah?"

You had no idea if he deliberately made it a point to rest his bandaged palm on the window in full display to manipulate you, or if it was just a coincidence.

Just a coincidence, right?

You sighed, nodding your head in the direction of the passenger's seat as you unlocked it. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He slid in, grinning as he shut the door.

"You catch the touchdown?"

"Yeah. I did."

"What'd you think? Smoothest match yet?"

"Sure."

His grin gave way to a lour as he scoffed. "Why are you so cold? Our school won."

"Why am I so cold? Why am I so cold? You asshole, you just cut yourself to make me show up!"

"Because you didn't show up when I asked nicely!"

"You're a psychopath." The effect of this word on him was oddly intriguing. He seemed to both be offended by it and seemed to get off on it.

"Can I just explain?", he sighed, sucking on his teeth for a moment as he watched other students, cheering, whistling, hooting and drinking, through your windshield.

You gestured at him to continue. He wasn't worthy enough of your words.

"You know athletes have...", he trailed off, searching desperately for the right word of vindication.

"Small dicks?"

"Okay, deserved.", he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Look, we have, like... superstitions, sometimes. For luck."

"Like the hooking up thing."

"How do you know about that?"

"McKay told me."

He scoffed, shaking his head as if his friend had divulged the biggest secret, as if he had broken some moral code.

"Alright, fine, whatever. But, uh, I pretend like it's not something I do, but I kinda have them too."

If he was about to say what you thought he was going to, you were about to press into the wound just to watch him bleed again. How dare he.

"My, um, my first game, I bumped into you on my way to the locker rooms.", he admitted, clearing his throat as if to clear space for whatever he was going to say - because it was so obviously the solution to String Theory, like he was making it out to be.

But oh, shit. He actually was going to say it.

"And we won. The next game, I did the same again, by accident. Y'know, just, this time, I fist-bumped you."

"When the fuck did you-"

"You were drunk, and you were cheering all of us on with your friends. You went for McKay's fist, but I did it instead. Uh, yeah, anyway. So, from the... maybe fourth? Yeah, the fourth game, I made it a point to at least brush my arm past you. Haven't lost a game since."

Your touch was his good luck charm? Was he clinically insane? Or was he just a massive loser?

"What's next? Our rising signs are aligned?"

"It's not a fucking joke, Y/N!", he snapped, his fist clenching.

"Really? Because it's pretty fucking hilarious."

"You know how hard it was for me to even admit I had superstitions, let alone about some random nobody girl I've never even talked to?"

No, no, he was not trying to make you feel bad, no goddamn way.

"You know how hard it was for me to see some random nobody guy bleeding out because of me?"

"It wasn't that deep." The pun was intended. It was so evidently intended that you wanted to slap the smirk off his lips.

"Yeah, okay, get out."

"Okay. You better show up to the next one, babygirl, or I'll have to take more drastic measures."

The audacious son of a bitch ruffled your hair and winked before he left.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

"C'mon, Y/N, don't be a cunt. Just do it. High five me. Fist bump me. Hug me. Whatever. Just do it, I've got a game to get to. And... everyone's watching."

The very next weekend, there was another game. Last game of the season. And you were supposed to be there, of course, because Nate's 'entire life depended on it.' And what's worse? He'd dragged you there, from your internship.

That's right. He'd basically come to your place of work, interrupted a conversation with your boss, and tugged you along with him because of his borderline insane obsession with having to touch you for luck.

He could have gotten away with it, too, if his 'good luck charm' theory hadn't involved you having to make contact with him right before the game.

And now you were out there on the field. Backing away from him. Refusing.

"Y/N, please."

"Fine."

You slapped him across the face, as hard as you possibly could.

The entire football field gasped.

He'd fucked up your week with the picture of the blade carving into his skin, and now, he was fucking up your career by costing you your internship. And what's worse, he didn't even care.

"Go. Play now."

He clenched his jaw, closing his eyes to suppress his rage before he opened them again. "That's not how it works. It has to be mutual. Like a fist bump. Or bumping into each other."

"Oh, okay.", you shrugged, grabbing his wrist before using it to uppercut him. "NOW go. PLAY."

You didn't know if you were being 'whoo'd or 'boo'd by the crowd, but at this point, the only thing you could hear was the red hot fury in your boiling blood.

He bit his lip as you let go of his hand, and before he jogged out onto the field, you could have sworn he said something that, if you'd heard it right, could cut through your entire soul and ruin your self-perception for years - something absolutely, shatteringly degrading.

You hoped you'd heard wrong.

Taking your seat in the stands, you scrolled on your phone, ignoring the entire fucking game. As expected, text from your team leader.

Gone. Internship gone. LoR gone. Nate Jacobs? About to be gone.

-------

He won.

He. Fucking. Won.

And that smirk that he gave you before blowing you a kiss that immediately morphed into flipping you the bird made you want to genuinely ask him to recreate that video once again.

You hated yourself for it, but yes.

You wanted him dead.

All the trauma he'd given you the past week couldn't be left unpunished.

Oh, to knock him off his pedestal. OH, to be the one to make him scream in pain instead of arrogant mirth.

"Whoo! Nate FUCKING Jacobs, baby!", he cheered in your ear as you gritted your teeth, walking back to your car. "And, of course, you."

You threw your bags into your car, ignoring him as you get in, starting the engine. He thumped on the hood of the car. "Come on, you can't still be mad! Your boss was looking down your shirt, anyway!"

"Oh, and I'm supposed to believe you did this out of the goodness of your heart?", you scoffed.

"That's right, baby, chivalry ain't dead."

"No, but you're about to be. Get the fuck out of my way."

"Hey, I need a ride. Gimme a lift."

"No chance in hell, Jacobs."

"Stop wounding me. Let me in."

"Or what?"

"I'll break your window.", he shrugged, casually. Normal things. The sun will rise tomorrow. Seasons will change. He'll break your window.

"I wouldn't be letting you in if I didn't think you were psychotic enough to actually do that."

He chuckled, sitting as he rested his duffle bag on his lap. A couple moments later, he looked up at you. "What? What are you waiting for?"

"Tell me where to go."

"You don't know where I live?"

"Okay, let me explain this to you, slowly. I didn't know jackshit about you till, like, a week ago. I didn't know your age or what kind of car you drove, or even what classes we shared, much less where the hell you live!"

"All this shit just proves that you don't observe people around you. You only care about yourself."

"If I only cared about myself, you'd have bled out last week."

He sighed playfully, resting his feet on your dashboard because he very evidently knew you would have a neurotic breakdown. "I, for one, know your age, the kind of car you drive, all the classes you have, plus your favourite colour and food."

"The first two are moot.", you replied, ignoring his silent mockery of the word 'moot'. "Next, you know I'm in all of Maddy's classes. And the rest you can find on my account. Account stalker."

"Account stalker. God, sweetheart, you're such a child. You don't want your account stalked, don't have a public one."

"I barely even post anything!"

"Oh, yeah, what about last month?"

He was looking at your profile last month? "I'd gone to France. It was a photo dump."

"It was unnecessary."

"Okay, you know what this is?"

He raised a brow.

"This is post-game audacity, is what I call it. You won. You're Mr. Big Shot, so you think you can just-"

And that's when Nate Jacobs kissed you.

To call it the worst fucking moment of your life would be a massive understatement. "Drive."

"You did not just fucking kiss me."

"You want me to do it again?"

"NO."

"Then drive."

This motherfucking bastard of a man!

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

"You wanna come in?"

No way in hell were you going into Nate Jacobs' house. Especially when there was a party going strong.

"I'm good."

He rolled his eyes, his arm leaning on the top of the window as he leaned in. "I don't bite. Initially."

"Ooh, you don't bite initially, oh, please let me come in right now! Shut up and get in, Jacobs."

"You've earned the right to call me Nate. Congrats. Begin using it."

"Why? We're never talking after this."

He scoff-snickered. "Oh. OH, so that's how it is.", he nodded, amused.

"Yeah, yeah, that's how it is."

He guffawed, banging on the hood of your car. "This ain't funny anymore. Come in."

"What? No."

"Is there really only one way to ask you to do something?"

"No, Jacobs, don't you dar-"

But he didn't listen. When did he ever? His fingers emerged from his pocket with his knife in tow. NOT AGAIN. This was the most cunning, calculating, manipulative, Machiavellian-

"I'm cutting. This time, my wrist."

"You're so fucking dumb, y'know that? You're psychopathic."

The grin on his face showed that you were wrong. He wasn't offended. He was 100% getting off on it.

Drops of blood reached the floor, and you realized you couldn't just drive off and leave this guy here - he'd probably still be cutting just to prove a point.

"I hope you die.", you mumbled, getting out of your car and slamming the door.

"I'm trying, dude!", he laughed, pointing at his wrist. Oh, this sick bastard.

"Not dressing that wound?"

"C'mon, blood is sexy. Badass."

Nate Jacobs was about to see how 'badass' blood could really get.

And when you were done beating the everloving shit out of him, you kissed him. Because he deserved to know how infuriating that shit was, too.

The next day at school, it was normal. You didn't acknowledge him, and he didn't acknowledge you.He didn't seem to care about the fact that you hit him so hard he almost had a concussion. An average social media interaction. Good.

How it should be.

But then he texted you.

Fuck.

[gguk-n]

Max Unravelled

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Max accidentally made an account on google plus in 2013. He came across a poetry page and enjoyed reading them. He ends up friends with the poet. He loved the normalcy she brought to his life. He didn't realise when the comfort he felt for her turned into love.

{Max's POV}

2013

I was searching for something on my gmail account when a pop up for google plus came through; without much thought I clicked on it. Some how, I'm yet to figure that out, I ended up with a google plus account. One of the few accounts I got recommended was a poetry and story account. They wrote very eloquently; I could feel the emotions in every word. I started reading all their posts in my spare time and even commenting on the ones I liked. I found my self constantly checking back to their page to see if they posted something. Their poetry was relatable and understandable. I hope they always have a good day since their words always pick me up when I'm down.

The poet I had been enjoying so much is a girl, and her name is Y/N. She's around my age; I guess that's why I related to her work so much. We spoke for the first time ever on her birthday. She made a post about it being her birthday so I wished her. She was sad about not being able to enjoy her birthday, I felt bad for her so we talked for a while until dad called me to practise. That was the start of our friendship. We ended up talking on google plus a lot. We shared the same sense of humour and best of all, she didn't know about racing. It was like a breath of fresh air to not talk about racing. She doesn't even seem interested in it; so I can live as Max for a while now.

My birthday was shit but talking to her made everything better. I can't believe I got excited about talking to someone and that someone made me feel good even on one of my shittiest days. She's one of the nicest people I've had the pleasure of talking to. I really do wanna talk to her on phone, typing everything I want to say out feels tedious.

2014

I've gotten busier since this year with Formula 3. We barely get to talk anymore. She did send me her number and we chat on Whatsapp whenever we can. But obviously it is not the same. I've suggested talking on call a few time and she finally agreed; I just need to find the perfect time to get away from everything to talk to her. I felt so nervous to talk to her for some reason, what if she thought I was weird and didn't enjoy talking to me? What if she heard me and decided I wasn't fun? What if we had nothing to talk about? I called her while sitting in my driver's room, she picked up quite quickly after 2 rings to be exact.

Max- Hi, Y/N! Y/N- Hey, Max!! How are you? Max- I'm good, what about you? Y/N- Yeah, I'm good too. haha!! This is so weird talking to you. Max- yeah, you sound pretty. Why would I say that? That sounds so fucking creepy, I face palmed myself so hard. Y/N- You sound nice too. I mean....you have a nice voice. Max- haha, thanks, this is the first time some one has said that. She thinks I have a nice voice, do I? Y/N- soooo, what have you been up too?? You've been so busy lately. I could hear people outside the driver's room. I quickly locked the door before answering her question. Max- yeah, I've been busy with stuff. I'll be done soon for a while now. Y/N- That's great I need my best friend back! Did she just call me her best friend? I've never had a best friend before.

We ended up talking on calls a lot more. I would have her contact ringer saved with a separate ringtone so that I would know to answer it. She usually called at reasonable times, where ever I travelled as if she knew my schedule.

2015

I got signed with RedBull Racing's junior team, making me the youngest driver. It was such a surreal feeling. But this also meant I couldn't talk to Y/N as much as I wished I could. Training and the races kept me very busy. But she was very understanding and would always welcome me back, no matter how long I was gone for.

2021

The first time I'm regretting not telling what I do to Y/N was today when I won my first World Championship. I was surrounded by my team, my girlfriend and my family as I got out of the car after I finished P1 at Abu Dhabi but it felt strange; like I was missing someone. I wish I could share this win, the biggest in my life yet, with the person who makes me feel so special yet so myself.

When I asked her about Formula One, she didn't know about, she didn't even know the prominent figures. So, I wasn't as worried about her finding out but I did worry now; since my win was controversial according to the media. However, she never asked. Was she really unaware or playing dumb? I wasn't sure if I should be grateful I get to be just Max or sad that I can't share a huge part of my life with my best friend.

2023

Y/N and I have been friends for the past 10 years. Time really flies. I've gotten a lot better at balancing my personal and work life. Y/N is my well kept secret; like I'm the only one who knows her. She moved out for college and we've only video called since. She is still funny and still writes. I think it's so cool of her to stay passionate about what she loves and keeping at it. She loves my cats more than I love them sometimes, she get's so excited when I send pictures of them. She says they cheer her up and that Jimmy and Sassy are her virtual pets. They loved her too honestly, they would always recognise when she was on call and jump into my lap or the phone to see or hear her. She still doesn't know what I did for a living; we've kept that a 'secret' you could say. But really I just didn't know how to tell her I was a Formula One driver and a 2 time World Champion.

Today was like any other day, I hadn't spoken to Y/N at all. Whenever I called her, I would usually close/lock the door depending on who was at home. My girlfriend didn't know about Y/N. I didn't even know how to bring it up, honestly. I sat down on my SimRacing chair after I switched the livestream off. Her phone rang for a few times and then stopped ringing but she didn't answer the call. I tried again thinking maybe she was busy or didn't hear it. I called a couple times before texting her; no reply. I was freaking out. This was the first time in 10 years that she hasn't answered my calls. She won't even reply to my messages. I found myself pacing around the house. The door to the room opened to my girlfriend's daughter standing in front of me, "Maxie, why are you walking in circles?" She asked after observing me for sometime. "It's nothing" I said, trying to calm myself down more than give a reply to her question. All these horrible thoughts swirled through my mind; what if she was in an accident and no one knows? What if she got robbed? What if she hurt herself and can't get help? What was I supposed to do? I didn't even know where she lived. I just couldn't think straight. My hair was a mess with how much I was running my fingers through it, a few stands coming along when I almost pulled them out of frustration.

After 7 hours, she replied to my text. I had almost given up hope, but she said that she was fine and that her phone was about to die. I felt relieved knowing that she was ok. But the text was so out of character for her. I texted her everyday after that in hope of talking to her. We always spoke everyday and it had been years since we didn't speak for so long. Almost every text was left on delivered. I had a race this weekend which I won and went out to celebrate with everyone because they wanted me to tag along. I didn't see the text Y/N sent me a while after the race since I was at the club. I only saw it when I got home. As soon as I saw it, I called her. She answered after a few rings.

Max- Schat, how have you been? Haven't heard a word from you in days. You could clearly hear the worry in my voice. Y/N- I've been busy, school year ending and stuff. Why didn't you sleep yet? Max- You know my sleep schedule is non existent. Y/N- Yeah, I guess I do. What did she mean by that? Her voice seemed hoarse, was she sick?Y/N- You know how I do freelance editing Max- You've told me about it Y/N- The latest author I'm working with is a sports author. I was hoping you could help me since you are a walking encycylopedia. Max- sure schat, but what's up with you? You know I'm always there for you Y/N- Yeah it nothing, just stressed. Max- Take off, you deserve it I wish she took care of herself instead of working so hard without breaks. Y/N- The summer break is here soon, I'll be fine. So about that author... Max-Yeah, what sport does she write for? Y/N- Formula One. I don't really like reading lengthy articles and I'm sure one article wouldn't do a sport any justice. I felt the ground slip from under my feet. My palms had gotten sweaty suddenly. Max- You did not go through google yet, right? (I stammered out) Y/N- Oh no, what do you take me for? I got excited to learn about something new. Do you know who the reigning champion is? I felt like I was about to lose everything. I didn't know what to say, my mouth was dry. No matter what I said, I don't think I could fix this situation. Y/N- Some dude named Max Verstappen. You guys share the same first name. He has 2 cats too; named Jimmy and Sassy, who look exactly like your bengals. I mean he even looks like you, with horrible sleep schedule just like you. He even sounds like you. There was horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach and my lungs felt like there was no air in them. Watching her tear up was the worst feeling.

Max- Schatje, I can explain. Y/N- You don't have to Max. I never asked you what you did. You don't have to explain anything. Max- I wanted to tell you, it just never came up in conversation. Y/N- I get it, it's difficult to tell your friend who has amounted to nothing that you are the World Driver's Champion, best of the best in Formula One. Max- Y/N, it's nothing like that. You're great, you're kind, you're funny. She laughed, but that stung my heart for the first time when her laugh was my favourite sound in the world. Y/N- Those are character traits I possess, they don't describe my career goals or achievements. I know I work 2 jobs to stay afloat while you make millions, I know I wish I was an author and not their editor, I know you probably thought I was too stupid to understand your rich and fancy world. Max- No, no, you're so talented. I've read your work and I'm sure the right publication will pick your work up. Y/N- I got rejected for the sixth time today. All of this is fine except that you lied to me about being single while having a girlfriend for years and having the happy family you dreamt off. You didn't have to introduce me to her; not like my boyfriends met you. But it would've been nice if I knew. Max- It just never came up. (I held my head in shame) Y/N- I...we joked about setting you up with someone all the time. Please don't. I get it, we didn't tell each other about work goals or what we did as a job but personal life; I literally told you about every guy I've ever been with. I felt bad telling you thinking you were single. I feel stupid right now. I wanted to reach out and wipe her tears but I couldn't. Max- I'm sorry,Y/N. I promise I won't hide anything anymore. Please, don't cry. Y/N- My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I majored in literature in Uni and now work as a primary school teacher and freelance editor. I'm trying to get my book published soon. I broke up with my boyfriend 2 months ago. This fucking hurt, everything she said and the way she said it. Max- Please don't do this. Y/N- I believe at least one of us should be honest. Max- Let me fix this. Y/N- Don't worry. There's nothing to fix. Max- Please don't say that. You mean a lot me. (I felt tears in my eyes.) Y/N- Me too. That's why, I need time. I'll talk to you when I'm ready. Max- Please, I can't lose you. I felt like my world was crashing. Y/N- You won't. I'll always be there for you. I just need time. Take care Max I was crying as she said it. Max- Bye, take care Y/N. I'll always be here. And the screen blacked out, I could see my reflection on the screen, tears streaming down my face.

After I was able to clear my head I texted her telling her that I would always be there for her and I would like to clear up the misunderstanding when she's ready. I spent the next few months thinking about her. It was starting to affect my relationship. I couldn't really give my girlfriend time when my mind was occupied with thoughts of Y/N. When my girlfriend brought it up how we were growing apart; I had a fight with her. I don't know what came over me, but not talking to Y/N or not knowing what was up with her was making it very difficult for me to focus on anything. The fighting became a constant after that. I didn't understand why she couldn't let me be. I missed my friend but she wouldn't get it.

I was SimRacing when Y/N's name popped up on my phone asking me to call her. I guess she was ready to talk it out. I really wished that this wasn't the end of our friendship. I really hoped that we could get over the misunderstanding and still be friends. I told the team I had some work and called her immediately. She answered like always; I waited for her to speak with baited breath. She started talking and we cleared everything up. I apologised for hiding the truth from her. I told her how much of a constant she was for me in my ever hectic life; how talking to her made everything better. She listened to me, I listened to her and then finally asked her to come to my home race. I wanted to meet her. I couldn't live knowing that I had the resources but didn't meet the one person that mattered to me the most. She was hesitant at first but I offered to get her the tickets and insisted on her joining me at the biggest race of the season for me and finally she agreed. I was over the moon. As soon as we ended the call, I sent her the tickets. I found myself counting down the days to the race for the first time.

I was waiting for her at the airport when she got here. My heart was beating very fast as I waited for her to come out. When I saw her; she was beautiful, shorter than I expected but she looked cute with her bag in one hand and a back pack on her shoulder, her hair in a low bun, a small smile graced her feature. I don't think I've noticed anyone with such detail ever before. Our conversation flowed easily. It didn't feel like it was the first time we were meeting. I dropped her at the hotel and went off to do media duty's at the paddock when I came back she was still asleep, traveling must've tired her out. She got dressed while I waited for her to get ready, even giving my 2 cents on what she should wear. She looked gorgeous, I couldn't help myself, staring at her. The black satin dress hugged her curves in all the right places. Her hair flowed down her back, the jewellery sparkling against her body. We went to have dinner at a fancy dutch restaurant. She loved the food especially the apple tart. The moan she let out as she devoured the dessert made blood rush downwards. I found my cheeks heating up, thankfully the whole place was dimly lit. We walked around for a while after the meal, she made fun of my name but I couldn't care less. I apologised and she accepted it and hugged me. Her arms were soft and the embrace warm. I found myself wrapping my arms around her, my face buried in her neck. I was scared I was gonna lose her, forever. I've never been scared to lose anything but a race until now and the thought of not having her in my life seemed scary. She consoled me and we headed back to the hotel.

The rest of the weekend was uneventful except for my girlfriend being pissed; she fought with about Y/N. I don't get what her problem is, she's just a friend I've known since forever. I'm just showing her around. I was giving interviews when I saw her talking to Lando, I saw them laughing along in the corner of my eye. It made me feel strange, there was this feeling in the pit of my stomach and I didn't like it. When I got back, Lando had left since it was his turn. She found Lando cute and it irked me, I was annoyed hearing her ask me to set her up with him. We got back to RedBull hospitality when my girlfriend asked me to talk to her, I left with her reluctantly leaving Y/N with Checo.

"Listen Max, I get it, she's your childhood friend and all, but it's so weird how she suddenly cropped up when I or for that matter any one knew nothing about her. People are saying stuff about us since she stepped on the paddock and the way you are dragging her along." my girlfriend spoke. "What are people saying? I will not stand any slander against her" I cut her off. She laughed dryly. "WOW, they are saying stuff about us, Max, us, that you are cheating on me with her. You've been so distant for months until a month ago, I didn't know what went wrong and you wouldn't talk either." she said running a hand through her hair. "It's nothing really. She just knows me as Max and not Max Verstappen and that's why I'm closer to her. Nothing more." I said. "It's pointless talking to you" she said turning around. "If we're done, I'm leaving, Y/N doesn't know anyone here except me." I said leaving for the door. She huffed before she followed me out. Y/N looked worried about what was going on between me and my girlfriend but I calmed her down and we spent the day together. She tagged along during quali too. I saw her praying before quali, it made my heart swell. I was starting pole and we spent the night watching a movie even though Y/N wanted me to rest before the race, I wanted to make the most of the little time we had.

Y/N hugged me before the race wishing me. I wanted to win so bad, I'd won here twice before but this was different. I wanted to win in front of her. I raced like a mad man and then I heard it. I crossed first and my happiness knew no bounds; knowing she was watching. I got out of the car and immediately ran to her; hugging her. It was cathartic. Y/N said my girlfriend looked annoyed, but I couldn't care less. I watched my girlfriend leave, annoyed. When I received the trophy at the top step of the podium knowing she was watching me from below made it so much more worth it. Y/N wanted to go out to celebrate my win and I wasn't one to say no. I went back to the hotel to get cleaned up and ready for the night.

I was greeted by my girlfriend in the room, it was dimly lit as she was sat at the corner of the bed with tears streaming down her face. "HOW COULD YOU DO THAT MAX?" she screamed at me. "Am I a fucking joke? I let it slide, you said you were friends but the first person you go to after winning your race was her, what do you think people were whispering when you did that?" she said in between sobs. I didn't get what she was saying. "Do you like her?" she asked. "What? We're friends" I stated. She shook her head, "No, Max, you aren't. The way she looks at you is how I look at you. The way you look at her" She cried, "You've never looked at me like that" she lamented. "It's nothing like that" I began. "You should've respected me at the very least and broken up with me if you liked someone else, I'm not gonna be some girl's place holder till you can have her." she cried out. "You're not a place holder for her" I said. "Feels exactly like that" she said wiping her tears. I felt nothing my 2 year long relationship might be ending and I didn't care. I didn't even try to correct her, did I really like her? Was Y/N really more important to me? "We're through Verstappen, if you can't even fight for us, I'm not about to fight for us" she sighed dejected. I walked towards the bathroom to wash up while she packed up to leave. When I got out she was gone. I went to pick Y/N up.

She kept asking me about my girlfriend but I never told her that we broke up. I didn't want her to feel responsible for my decision. At the club, she got close to everyone pretty quickly. She was unstoppable, downing one drink after another. I hadn't touched alcohol since I was driving. The others kept handing her drinks much to my dismay. She asked me to come dance with her but I had the others to look after too. She was busy dancing surrounded by too many guys, one of them going as far as to touch her and grind against her. All I saw was red, I bid the guys good bye and stormed the dance floor to drag a reluctant Y/N with me; I ended up carrying her out on my shoulder. She wasn't very happy, screaming and hitting me till I put her down. She puked as soon as I put her down and joked about missing my expensive car, I didn't really mind if she hadn't since she was more important than the car. I got her medicine and left them at her side after putting her to bed.

We spent the next few days after the race sight seeing. Y/N brought up my girlfriend a few time and I ended up avoiding her. When we were cuddling while watching Barbie I felt my heart beating out of my chest as she scooted closer to grab tissue. When her hand brushed against my skin, it burnt and a weird feeling erupted in my chest. She seemed completely unaware of how she was making me feel. We fell asleep on the couch that night.

I wasn't able to avoid the girlfriend question any longer and told her that we broke up without making any eye contact on the way to drop her to the airport. My eyes stung and there was a lump in my throat; I wasn't sure it was because of my girlfriend or Y/N. I bid her farewell, she would turn back towards me to wave after every few steps; my eyes were blurry after sometime trying to prevent the tears from falling. I ended up crying after she left.

All the races after, I ended up going shopping after or before every race to collect some trinkets or stuff that was special to that place and mailing it to her with small notes attached. She would graciously open them in front of me on video call; the smile she gave me the first time she received was unparalleled. It made my stomach turn over. I wanted to make her smile every chance I got. That's how I ended up sending her a package after every race from every country until I got reprimanded by her for the excessive amount of gifts. She asked me not to send one after every race and stick to one or two in total; I was forced to agree to that request.

We were planning on spending Christmas and New Year together; she wanted to leave after Christmas but I was able to convince her to stay until I had to leave for pre-season training. I couldn't wait for the season to end and to spend the year end with Y/N. We celebrated me winning the championship on video call; even though I had hoped she could be present in person but it wasn't possible with her schedule. This championship felt better than the last two since I was able to celebrate it with her. 2021 me wouldn't believe me right now.

Y/N flew in as soon as winter break started for her. I had cleaned up the house as much as possible. I had told my cats about Y/N visiting who seemed excited. I picked her up from the airport and when we got home the cats were very excited to meet her; a lot more receptive than the other guests I've had over. We spent the next few days going to places and the Monaco GP circuit. She cribbed about walking the entire time we walked the path. It made me laugh.

The night before Christmas we fell asleep on the couch cuddling; I hadn't slept this well in a very long time. When I woke up, Y/N was no where to be seen. I sat up waiting for her to return when she came back, she looked so cute in her jumper and shorts with her hair a mess. We opened up presents after some time. She had gotten me a Sid plushie, an ugly sweater and perfume. I got her a Formula One book with my face, a coffee mug and a pendant. I wanted to get her more stuff but I was sure she would make me return it if she saw every thing. I think the house would be over run with the amount of stuff I wanted to get her. Then she brought the matching sweater she got with me; I put it on immediately. I wanted to match with her all the time. We had a bit of back and forth on the dinner but agreed on Turkish kabab.

New Year came too quickly, which meant Y/N would be leaving soon. We went clubbing on New Year eve. She didn't drink like the last time we were at the club but made friends with some of the guys there. Having a social butterfly for a friend was a bad idea. We counted the time down to midnight as the clock struck 12 and I turned towards her to celebrate I saw she was kissing one of the guys she had befriended when we entered. If the club was quite you could hear my heart shatter. That's when I realised that all these weird feeling and all the times I couldn't stop thinking about her was because I liked her, no scratch that, I loved her. I felt my heart constrict when she turned towards me and hugged me later. I didn't want to talk about it, this would ruin our friendship.

All I could think about was how it felt to watch her kiss another man. I hated it, the worst feeling, worse than DNFing or not winning. I hated knowing another man could touch her and feel her. I wasn't even sure how to bring it up since what were we if not just friends. I put myself into training for the upcoming season but those feelings I felt when she kissed another man were still fresh in my head and I couldn't get rid of them even if I tried.

I was able to convince her to join me during her spring and summer break. We had fun, I loved having her waiting for me at the end of the race. I didn't really enjoy all the media questions that had cropped up about Y/N when she was seen with me, before or after the race. During my summer break, I spent it at her place. When I got there, it was a small apartment; but it had a homely feel. She would cook food for me and we would watch movies; I had a few commitments with the team and would leave for some time but then be back. It was so nice to have some one to come home to. When she was having her book launch, I went to meet her at her launch with a bouquet of flowers. "Congratulations" I said while handing her the flowers and giving her a hug. "Thank you" she replied, a smile playing on her lips. We had celebratory dinner after. Immediately after that, we were on the news. It read that I had a girlfriend, she kept apologising but it didn't matter. It made me a little warm, I'm not sure what emotions I felt hearing people speculate that she was my girlfriend.

I flew back to Netherland for the race early, she would only be joining me on the race day due to work. It dampened my mood but there wasn't much I could do about it. She flew in the morning of the race; it made my day watching her walk out of the airport. We talked all the way to the hotel where she got changed and we headed to the paddock. I had thought it through; after the qualifying, I had planned on telling her how I felt. I was gonna win this race and confess to her. Knowing that I can't hold her while someone else can was eating away at me and I wanted to take the chance before it slipped away from me.

I started the race P2 and finished it at P2. In the final laps, the only thoughts running through my head were, I really wanted to ask her out as a race winner, I can't do that now. She probably doesn't even like me like that, did I really want to ruin everything I had with her. I stumbled out of the car towards her, a big smile on her face. And suddenly I said it; "I wanted to ask you out as a race winner" emotions were running high. She insisted me to continue and when I did, she agreed to go out with me. I was over the moon, my head was reeling. This race ending was not what I hoped for but Y/N's answer was something I really was hoping for.

She waited for me in the driver's room. I couldn't help but not touch her. Her skin against mine send electric shocks through me, I couldn't help but smile at the feeling of her against me. I wanted to have this feeling for the rest of the life. I wanted to have her next to me; it took me a while to figure that out but now that I had, I didn't want to let go. I loved her and I wanted her.

We were both in the hotel room at the end of night in each other’s embrace, "Can't believe you're my boyfriend" she exclaimed. "Can't believe you're my girlfriend either." I exclaimed back. "I've liked you since I've known you" she mumbled. "What?" I asked shocked. "Yeah, I've always had a crush on you. Teenage me would lose it right now if she saw" she said. "I'm sorry it took me so long" I muttered pressing a kiss against her lips. "better late then never" she laughed wrapping her arms around my neck, flipping me to straddle my hips. She bent down to kiss me again.

I could spend the rest of my life like this, if it meant I could have her forever.

Hope you had fun. Thank you for enjoying the story!!

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMMAb4KUo/

Smut w biker Ethan Landry ?!

Hi💕 I hope you like it! I got out of the hang of writing over the last few days so I might go back and make a few changes once i re-read over this at some point lmao

Roll Up - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This Contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Your boyfriend's new hobby scares you, but he shows you it isn't that bad.

Contains: Oral(f receiving), p in v, rough-ish sex.

A/N: We're going to pretend that this isn't based off of the photoshopped pics of Jack lmao. If this sucks, don't let me know. I'm sensitive👉👈

When your boyfriend mentioned getting his motorcycle license, you thought he was crazy. You even created a power point presentation, showing him how dumb of an idea it was. He just rolled his eyes every time you made a good point, because he knew it was what he was going to do regardless.

“You aren’t going to break up with me if I get a bike, are you?” he asked, putting on his shoes as he got ready to go take the driving test. “I think it’d be a lot of fun to have one.”

“It’d take a lot more for me to break up with you…but what if something happens to you? I’d just be worried the whole time you were out,” you sighed, getting a little anxious.

You heard a knock on the door, as Ethan walked away from you to answer it. You took a deep breath when Chad walked in, carrying his extra helmet for Ethan.

“Why’d you have to corrupt my sweet boyfriend?” you asked, as Chad smiled at you.

“I think you’ll like it…Tara does,” he said, smirking at Ethan as he handed him the helmet.

“Yeah, what if I get one and you can’t keep your hands off me?” Ethan asked, cocking his eyebrow as he looked at you. “I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah, and I’d not like to hear the sound of your eulogy being spoken,” you said, as Ethan scoffed.

“You’re so overdramatic,” he said, walking over to kiss you. He placed a kiss to the tip of your nose, your lips, and your forehead before he pulled away. “I love you, baby. Wish me luck.”

“I love you, too,” you said, as both boys walked to the door. Ethan stood in the doorway for a minute, waiting for you to hear the other thing he needed you to say. “Fuck it, fine. Good luck. Please, just be careful.”

“I will, babe,” he said, chuckling as he walked out.

One thing about Ethan was that the second he got an idea in his head, you knew he was going to stop at nothing to get what he wanted. This was by far the scariest thing he’d ever wanted to do, and you’d done nothing but panic whenever you thought about it.

It all started when Chad brought Ethan to his friend’s garage, and they were talking about Chad getting his license. At first you laughed it off, thinking it was about Ethan wanting to have more in common with his best friend, but once you saw him browsing for bikes online, you realized how serious he was about it.

Once he got his learners, he started to spend more time with Chad and his friend. He’d lay in bed with you until you fell asleep, then sneak out of the bed once he’d get the text from Chad that he was outside. You hated it when you’d roll over and he wasn’t beside you, but you wanted him to practice when there were a lot less cars on the road.

He was always in the best mood when he’d come back home, still feeling the adrenaline. He tried to be quiet when he snuck back in, but you always woke up. You’d jump out of bed once you heard the shower cut on, strip off your clothes, and join him in the steamy bathroom. He’d tell you all the things he did and new stuff he learned as you sleepily listened, but it always ended in the hottest shower sex you’d ever had.

You kept checking the time on your phone, wondering what was taking Ethan so long to get back home. It’d been a few hours, and you were trying to prepare yourself. As worried as you were for him to get his license, you knew you’d be excited for him. But the possibility of him not getting it worried you more than if he did. You knew how much he wanted it, and you knew he’d be upset if he didn’t get it.

Once you saw Ethan’s name and picture flash across your phone screen, you quickly answered the call.

“Hey, babe,” you said, “How’d it go?”

You heard traffic passing him and sirens off in the distance.

“Come outside, I want to show you something.” You could hear the happiness in his voice, and you kind of had a hunch about what your boyfriend had done. Once you made your way down the stairs of your apartment complex and saw him standing there, a helmet under his arm and the matte black bike behind him, you didn’t know how to feel.

“I guess you passed,” you said, your eyes squinting as the early afternoon sunlight hit them just right. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

“I can still tell you’re mad,” he teased, as he leaned down to kiss you. “but thank you.”

“This is yours, isn’t it?” you asked, as he tried to fight off the excited smile.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t hate me because I didn’t talk to you about it first,” he said, reaching around and grabbing the extra helmet off the bike seat. “I want you to go on a ride with me.”

“Absolutely not,” you said, his smile dropping at your words. “Not right now, can we go out later tonight? I’m a little scared and I’d feel better if I didn’t feel like we were going to get hit.”

“Of course,” he said, his smile appearing on his lips again. “I think you’ll love it.”

“Whatever you say,” you said, as he grabbed your hand and led you inside.

As it got darker outside, Ethan got more excited. He knew how close he was to taking you out to see what made him almost as happy as you do. As much as you were freaking out, you knew he’d never put you in danger, and you really wanted to know what the big deal was.

“Okay,” Ethan said, as you slipped your hoodie over your head. “Just a few quick things…I know it’s a little scary, but you need to lean into any turns we take. Don’t ever let go of me and sit as close to me as you can.”

“If we lean, won’t you lose control?” you questioned, as he shook his head.

“We’re not doing anything crazy so don’t think I’m going to take you on any super curvy roads…but if you stay upright when we need to lean, that could cause me to lose control.”

“Okay,” you sighed, as he handed you the helmet.

He looked you over to make sure nothing on you was loose fitting and made sure your helmet was good before he slung his leg over the bike.

“You coming?” he asked, his hand reaching out to help you on.

“There’s not a lot of room back here,” you said, as he slid his helmet over his head.

“I already told you, just hold on to me, and stay as close as you can. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said, his words a little muffled. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you said, as he started the bike. Your arms tightly wrapped around him, his hand rubbing against your thigh to let you know he had you before he pulled off.

He took you on a few of the streets he first learned how to drive on, not wanting to freak you out too much. Once you came to a stop light, he started to yell over the hum of the bike.

“You okay?” he asked, his hand moving to rub against your thigh again.

“Yeah, you aren’t going very fast, though,” you yelled back, as he started to laugh to himself.

“You want me to go faster?” he asked, “I just didn’t want to scare you.”

“You can go faster, just don’t kill us,” you said, as the light turned green.

He revved the engine before he sped off, going significantly faster than he did before. You didn’t feel scared though, you were…turned on? You weren’t sure if it was the vibrations coming from the bike, or how hot your boyfriend was at that moment, but you knew you were going to jump him as soon as the two of you got back home.

He started to drive out of the city, taking you to one of the back roads he’d always pull off at with his friends. He stopped in the gravel area and helped you off the bike before he got off.

“Was that too much?” he asked, pulling the helmet off of his head. You quickly pulled yours off, mumbling a “No” as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss him. Your hands went up to his curls as his tongue brushed against your bottom lip to deepen the kiss. You stood there making out, the only light coming from the full moon and the glow of the headlights.

“We need to go home soon,” you said against his lips, “I understand why you always want sex after your late-night rides.”

“We’ll head home soon babe,” he said, his hand reaching down to squeeze your ass as he pulled you closer. “Or…we could do it right here.”

“I know this is a back road, but someone could still see us,” you said, glancing at the road for any other cars off in the distance.

“So what?” he asked, as his lips moved to your neck.

He pulled away once he heard the familiar loud hum heading up the road, slowing down a little once it got closer to where you and Ethan were.

“Is that Chad?” you asked, as Ethan nodded.

“Tara’s with him,” he said, noticing her tiny frame tightly clinging to him. “Good think I didn’t get you naked yet,” he laughed a little, thinking about how awkward that would’ve been.

“You know how I am when I want sex and I don’t get it,” you said, giving him a warning look. “Please don’t get caught up in talking for too long.”

“I won’t, babe,” he said, as Chad pulled in and took his helmet off.

“She didn’t kill you!” Chad yelled, as you rolled your eyes.

Ethan walked up to him as you walked over to Tara. She had the biggest smile on her face when she saw you standing there.

“Ahh! We can go on late night rides together, now!” she said, pulling you into a hug. “Isn’t this fun?”

“Yeah, I thought it was going to be scary,” you said, glancing over to Ethan to see him smiling at you. “Now I just have to convince him to take me home soon.”

“I get it, I feel the same way,” she said, picking up on your suggestiveness.

When Ethan walked around to you, he looked a little nervous as Chad motioned for Tara to get back on the bike.

“I hope you don’t mind, but Chad wants to ride around for a little bit. There’s this straight, flat road near here that we like to go way faster than we should, but if you’d rather go home, we can.”

“As long as we go home soon, I’m fine with it,” you said, as Ethan started to smile.

“Put your helmet back on,” he said, walking you back over to his bike.

He slid his over his head and helped you get on the back before he started it again and took off. You got a little confused once you hit a certain point in the road. Chad and Ethan both came to a stop on opposite sides, as you felt his hand grip your thigh.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, the question making you nervous as Chad gave him a thumbs up.

“Yeah,” you yelled, as he said, “Hold on tight.”

He revved the engine again before taking off, going way faster than he’d gone before, at least while you were on the back. The way you were rested against Ethan made it easy for you to see that Chad was keeping pace with him before he dropped a gear and flew past Ethan. Ethan did the same, your grip on him getting even tighter as you felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins. He quickly caught back up to Chad and passed him before he started to slow down a little.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, once he came to a stop and your grip on him relaxed.

“If you don’t take me home and fuck me, I’m not going to be okay,” you said, as Chad pulled up beside you and pulled his helmet off.

“Fuck, that thing’s fast,” he said, as Ethan pulled his helmet off.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect it. We were going over a hundred,” Ethan said, your eyes going wide as you listened to him speak. “I’m going to take her home.”

“You coming back out later?” Chad asked, as Ethan shook his head.

“No, I have other plans,” he said, as Chad nodded.

“You guys have fun. Don’t be an idiot,” Chad said, putting his helmet back on before speeding off.

“Over a hundred?!” you yelled, as Ethan started to laugh.

“Yeah, and I wasn’t going as fast as I could’ve,” he said, putting his helmet back on. “Let’s get you home.”

As soon as he got you home, you both were so needy. Various clothing items were scattered across your apartment, from the front door to the bedroom you shared with Ethan. He wasted no time, burying his head in between your thighs as soon as he pushed you back on your bed. Your fingers ran through his curls as soft moans slipped past your lips. His hands were kneading at your thighs as his tongue swirled around your sensitive clit.

“Use your fingers, babe,” you gasped out, as he suckled on your clit. He did what you said, sliding two of his fingers into your soaked, dripping pussy with ease. “Fuck, just like that.”

“Did being on the back of my bike turn you on that much?” he asked, his eyes boring into yours as he curved his fingers to brush against that spongy spot inside of you. “Yes,” you said, letting out a low moan. “You were just so fucking hot.”

His mouth went back to your clit as you tugged at his curls, the sounds of him fucking you with his fingers and your moans filling the room. His free hand was roaming your body, from your thighs up to your breasts. Once he started to pinch one of your nipples, you felt that familiar feeling starting to build inside of you.

Ethan knew you were close. Your legs were starting to shake as his fingers moved against your g-spot faster. He sucked your clit into his mouth, hard. Your back arched up off the bed as you pulled his hair so hard that it hurt. He didn’t let up though.

You let out a whimper as the feeling washed over you, your pussy fluttering around his fingers. He gently lapped at your clit until you started to come down from your high.

The grip you had on his hair relaxed as he sat up to look at you, his mouth coated in your arousal.

“Do I still have hair?” he asked, running his fingers through his curls. His scalp was so sensitive that he winced when he touched it.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you mumbled, as your breathing started to get a little more regular.

“It’s worth it if I made you cum that hard,” he said, smiling at you. “I loved having you on the back of my bike. It’s like you weren’t scared at all.”

“I wasn’t. I trust you.”

As much as Ethan loved watching your face when he fucked you, he wanted to be as deep as he could inside your warm, wet pussy. He positioned you so your ass was sticking up in the air for him as the side of your face rested against the cool comforter.

“So fucking perfect,” he said, rubbing the tip of his cock over your wet folds. “You ready, baby?”

“Yes,” you said, as he started to inch himself inside of you. The slight burning feeling as he stretched you out made you gasp, his hand roaming over your lower back as his hip bones met the curve of your ass.

He started out with slow thrusts, still giving you time to adjust. Once you whined out to let him know you wanted more, he moved faster. You heard the soft slapping of his skin against yours as the head of his cock hit that special spot inside of you. You glanced back to see him watching his cock disappear inside your pussy, slide himself out, head and all, before he started to pound into you.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, your eyes still on him as your hands grabbed at the sheets.

He looked up to watch your body as you started to roll your hips back, meeting his thrusts. His cheeks were red as his mouth hung open, a few of his curls sticking to his forehead. One of his hands tightly held your hip as his other hand reached around brushing against your lower stomach. You soon felt two of his fingers strumming against your clit, your moans getting louder by the second.

“Harder,” you whimpered, a smirk playing on his lips as he started to mercilessly pound into your pussy.  

 “That’s it, baby. You take it so fucking well,” he said, some of his words getting broken by the random grunts slipping past his lips.

Once he put the right amount of pressure on your clit and started to roll his fingers in circles, you felt your body start to tense up, your orgasm sneaking up on you. You were a whimpering mess as the slapping sounds got louder, echoing off the walls. He was getting close, but he was trying so hard to fight it.

He watched your fists ball up in the fitted sheet, pulling it lose as you cried out. Your pussy was squeezing him so tight that his thrusts started to falter.

“Where do you want it?” he rushed out, but you couldn’t form words, completely fucked out.

He slid out of you, releasing his hot cum all over your ass and lower back. His hand ran through his sweaty hair before he flopped down on the bed beside you. Your hips started to relax as you eased the lower half of your body to lay flat across the bed.

“Jesus,” he sighed, catching his breath. “That was amazing.”

“Was it as good as the shower sex?” you asked, smiling as you turned your head to face him.

“Well, we do still need to shower…”

[yuyu1024]

Good morning, Love

Pairings: San × y/n

Genre/tags: lovers with age gap

Warning: 🔞 fluff but still smut, pet names, cursing, suggestive/unprotected sex (be safe everyone), hj/bj, insecurities, judgement on physical appearances

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 2.3k

Disclaimers:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: no plot. I tried writing without stopping yesterday but i fell asleep as my meds kicked in... 😅 and yeah this is it.

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

It's always so awkward for you when your group of friends talk about their each own lovelife stories. It's not because you are jealous, envious, bitter or whatsoever. No. You can't be either of those things as you are not single and have a dry lovelife.

However, they don't know that. That is the thing. No one knows you are dating. Why? Because you are scared to be judged. Especially in this modern world where some are just entitled with their opinion. Tells what they think even though there is nothing wrong with it.

Yeah... there is nothing wrong with you dating no. You are in love. Both of you are. But... what you think can be the issue in this society is the age gap.

Funny enough, the distance of your age to your boyfriend is not even that big. It's just roughly five years. But for you, its like a fossil dating a baby.

***

"Good morning, Love..." your man greets you as soon as he comes out of the bedroom.

He is smiling ear to ear seeing you, his dimple is showing and his eyesmile is just the cutest.

"Why are you up so early...?" he hugs you from your back as you finish washing the pan you used for cooking breakfast for him.

"I just... felt like it." You answer smiling

"Hmm..." he inhales your scent. "But... it's saturday..." and then he pushes your hair off your neck and nibble tiny bits and pieces of you. "I was hoping for a quick hot fuck with my love..." he gnarls

"Sannie... we already had sex last night.."

"So...?" He pauses and looks a little offended, "why? Don't you like it when we do sexy time in the morning...?"

"No...." you twirl around to face your Goddess boyfriend. He have been working out more lately and it is so visible. He's so buff. "Well..."

"Well?" He arch one brow, waiting for you to explain.

"Don't you get tired?"

"Of what? Having sex? No! I work out to have good stamina for you..." he kisses you on your shoulder, "to make sure I please you, my love..."

You chuckle at how serious he is with his answer and yet so cute pouting.

"Not sex... I know you will not get tired of it... I know... believe me..." you tease him by biting your lip and then lightly running your fingers from his thight to his very noticable erection. "I meant... me... you... getting tired of me."

"And why would I?" He frowns.

"Well..." you lean back to the sink, giving a few inches of gap between you two. "I'm... older... and not that good looking..."

"What are you even talking about?" He is not smiling or being playful anymore. He just looks very not amused by your choice of words to describe yourself. "What's the matter? Why are you saying that about yourself...?"

You press your lips together as you don't know what to actually tell him.

It's not his fault. God no. San is an incredible lover. He always makes you feel loved, appreciated, contented and secured It's just your own insecurity. It's just your own thoughts whenever you try to compare yourself with others. Especially with all these younger and prettier girls around, in his work, in this neighborhood and online.

Well you don't think he will cheat. San is not like that. However, one day, if... he suddenly feels like settling down and having a family on his own. You are not the best option for that. 32 yrs old is not THAT old but... even though you are in that age, you haven't thought of settling down still.

You enjoy your time with San. But you are also afraid that you are waisting his prime years with you. Fucking you 'till you can't walk instead of someone...

"Love?" He grabs you by the waist, realing you in back from your thoughts. "Stop it okay?"

He knows you so much that he can tell from you zoning out.

"I fucking love you."

"I... love you too..." you say softly

"Then what's the matter?"

You shrug. "I don't know..."

"Are you going to leave me?"

"What? No!" You snap

"Then... stop overthinking about things that are not our problem right now..." he leans in and kisses you on the lips. "Whatever you are thinking about me, going away... it's not gonna happen. Okay?"

"Okay..." you try to sound confident.

"Answer me... with confidence love..." he lower down a bit more so his mouth reaches your tits.

He lets his tongue make circles over your thin white top, licking and making it basically see through with his saliva.

"Sannie..." you breathe, holding on to the to the counter top for support as you feel something in your stomach flutter. "What...what... are you doing... huh?" You throw your head back.

He didn't stopped. He continued licking until he had to tease you a bit more by bitting your now hard bud. He is literally reeling you out of those nonesense thoughts of yours.

Then his one hand going to your other tits, kneading it while his delicate fingers pinch and caress the other nipple.

"Are you happy with me?" He asks, his eyes looking at your face while his mouth is busy, continuing sucking.

You look down at his naughty eyes. "Y-yes... I am...."

You see a hint of smile from him. A little devilishly smile. He can't hide it even though his mouth is so busy with you.

You press your thighs together as you began to feel an undeniable intense pressure down there. It is tickling you from inside out.

"San!" You arch your back even more, making sure he can suck it more.

He growls his excitement as he sees you get more into it. He then takes you by your waist pulling you to him. You can feel his rock erection through his jogging pants.

"Maybe..." you breathe as he pulls away from your tits.

"Maybe what, my love?" He eyes you with so much adoration and happiness.

"Let's go back to bed?" You shyly asks

He just laugh and picks you up like a bride. "I can stay all day in bed if you want..."

He carries you back to your room and gently puts you down.

"But... I don't mean it like... you will take care of me..."

"Eung? What you mean?" He tilts his head, confused with your words.

"Let me..." you reach for the hem of his pants and slowly curl it downwards. "I want to take care of you today..."

He bites his lips, surpressing his excitement. "But love... you need it... what you said earlier..."

"I know... I know..." you kiss him on the cheek. "I felt a little... down... but..."

"But.... what?"

"I know I maybe older to you...however you are much mature among the two of us..."

"And...?"

"Well... you've taken care of my needs... and fill up my emptiness whenever I need it... want it..."

"And...?" He arches his brow

"And... its only me that overthinks about us...no one really calls me out... I just.. assume they do... or will do..."

"Love... Whatever you feel or think about us... is valid... the world right now... well they say people are more accepting nowadays... they do but still not all of them. Even within ourselves..."

"Yeah... I guess..."

"But... then... why do you want to take care of me?" He leans closer to kiss you. "I am so ready to put my dick in you now...." he mumbles as your lips separates.

"Because..." you glance down at his pants and then back to his eyes. "I want it..." you breathe the words out, sounding like a whine. But its not. You just want to give him what he deserves.

You ask him to switch with you. You let him sit on the edge of the bed while you stand up.

"Love.." he bites his lower lip as he watches you move.

You are not even doing anything yet. You are just standing up and looking down at your man, drool over you. White wet shirt and your black fitted cycling shorts.

"Oh San... you look aroused already..." you giggle as you see his face. "I haven't done anything yet."

He pouts and wrap his arm around your waist and presses his face on your tummy. "I can't help it. You're so fucking hot."

"I love you...."

He tilts his head up and smile. "I... love... you..." he whisper. "So...... much!" He adds at the end

You grin as you find him adorable. However, "Fine Mr. Loverboy..." you push him away from you, forcing him to lay down on his back. "Let's go back to business..."

You pull his pants down to his ankles and then removed it gently before throwing it away. You have your serious face on whilst your boyfriend is covering his face, hiding behind his hands. He's not laughing or what. He is shy and can't hide his excitement, that's all. Hmm... well, he can't really hide it. His dick is showing how turned on he is.

"Don't you want to look at me?" You ask

He takes his hand off his face and push himself up with his elbows. "Fuck!" He blurt out when he sees you naked and going down on your knees.

You grab his length and gently pump him a few times, making him squirm under your touch before fully taking him in your mouth.

"Love..." he moans as he feels the wetness and warmness.

You lick every vein and curve. Even the very tip where he is so sensitive and making him go crazy.

"Shit!" He gasps, "Love!" He grabs onto the bedsheets and tries to stay in place for you.

You bob your head fast and then slow teasing him his high. You want to make sure that he is feeling everything and emotionally having it all. You can even feel his length twitch in your mouth which means he is close.

"Y/N...my love..." he gets up and grabs you by your face and kisses you on the lips. He can taste himself in you but fuck that. He is so high right now with arousal and love for you. "I need to fuck you now or I'll go insane."

Climbing onto the bed whilst you to are lips to lips, San can't help himself but to rush. He even throw the plushies you have on bed just to give way for you to get into position.

"I love my weekends with you..." he says as he nibbles your neck. "No..." he gives you a smooch on your shoulder. "I love all the days I spent with you..." and a kiss on your cheek. "I love YOU."

You smile and nod, "I'll remember that."

"You should." He kisses you on the lips. "Always."

Then before you could open your mouth to repeat the word 'always' he had his length already aligned to your entrance. You felt his tip touch you and it made you melt already. His tip is so warm and when he pushes it in, you felt your insides move.

"Oh... God..." your mouth opens into on O.

He is so fucking thick. You have been dating for more than a year now and you are still getting surprised on how thick he is.

"Tell me if it hurts... I didn't prep you... I got so excited..."

"It's fine..." you smile and pull his face for a kiss.

Sex with Sannie is so satisfying. It's not just sex for him, it's really something you've never felt from anyone you have dated in the past. He is making you feel love in every thrust.

It may sound weird but it is true.

"Aaahhh..." his mouth drops opens and exhales as he felt you squeeze him inside  "l-love... aaaahhh..." he closes his eyes as he slows down his movement. "Fuck... I might not last long anymore..." he then stretches his arm to reach for the bedside drawer

"Don't..." you say catching your breathe. "It's okay..." you say

"Are you sure?"

You nod.

"But your.... fertile..."

You laugh when you realized what he just said. "Baby... I can't...how did you know that?"

"Of course... I know... I should know..." he hugs you and kisses you more whilst slowing down his hip movements to control a little bit more. "I know you are not ready yet... and it's part of my job.. being your boyfriend... to know your needs..."

"Aww..." you tap his nose lightly and then raise your legs to wrap it around his waist. "Thank you..." you whisper. "Give it to me now then..." you add

"What?" He is frowning but smiling. "Love, are you... serious?"

"Yes... If it's alright with you... if ever... after this... we get a little mini you and mini me..."

"Fuck yeah!" He sucks you lower lip. "I want us to have children... more people to show love and appreciation for your existence.. and I promise..."  picks up his rythm up again. "I will raise our kids with so much love.. and...and..." he opens his mouth to take quick breathes as he feels his climax coming. "Love... ahhh... Aack! Shit!"

You feel his dick pulsate and pump in you. Its warm and its quite a lot.

He snorts a laugh as he lays on top of you while you caress his head. "What's funny now?"

He pushes himself back up, "you mention children already..."

"Hmm..."

"So does this mean..."

"Mean what?"

"You want to spend a life with me? Forever?"

You smile, "Of course..."

San can't hide the pure happiness in his smile. "Just tell me when, where and how... I'll marry you..."

"I don't need a fancy wedding... All I need is you..." you say

"Ditto..." he lays his head on your chest. "But about the baby..."

"What about it?"

He looks up at you again, "just to make sure... can... we... go for one more?"

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Somersaults and Stealing Hearts Part 1: Meeting the Coach✨

Coach! Joel Miller x gymnast! OFC

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to @lotusbxtch and @alltheirdamn for beta reading for me, and for @mountainsandmayhem for helping hype me up! I’m really excited about this one ✨

Summary: Welcoming a new coach is no easy task, especially when Joel Miller steps through those doors with his stupid tousled curls and dark brown eyes.

Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 4.2k

Tags: Eventual smut, enemies to lovers type energy, bitter OFC, a hint of swooning, age gap (Madison is 24, Joel is 39), slow burn, pre!outbreak au

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Sunlight bursts through the glass windows of the Austin Gymnastics Club as chalk and sweat permeate through the air of the heated gym. The long balance beams seem to shine in the distance, and the white walls with gold medals and trophies in glass cases fill the extensive space. My calloused fingers are numb from the lengthy bar routine I just finished, and my lower back burns from the shaky dismount. I take a moment to breathe deep and fill my lungs with icy water, letting the chill cool the ache of fiery lungs.

   Breathe in, breathe out. Focus on deep breaths. Don’t think about the heartbreaking loss that’s about to happen.

   When I open my glossy eyes, I take a minute to compose myself. Losing Coach Carr is near devastating when regionals are in a little less than two months. How the fuck am I supposed to be ready when we’re getting a brand new coach who doesn’t know a thing about our routines or training schedule? 

   Ripping the water bottle from my tight grip, I find my way back onto the blue spring floor and decide to stretch my sore triceps. Wincing in pain, I groan, extending my arms overhead, feeling as if my muscles will split in half at any moment, but I’m used to it. It’s just part of a gymnast’s daily routine. No pain, no gain. 

   Senior year. Only a little over three months until I’m graduating with a bachelor’s degree in Kinesiology. Granted, I opted for online classes to focus on what’s really important. Gymnastics. It’s what I breathe, all I can think about day after day, and I won’t stop until I qualify for the Olympics. And Coach Carr should’ve been the one to help me get there, but those dreams were crushed like sand beneath the soles of my feet. Go figure. Nothing ever went my way. Especially after I lost my dad…

   Having to take a whole year off training and college was rough enough. And close to being twenty-five-years-old? Well, some of the girls still tortured me about it, whispering how I was too old, how I’d never make it. But they were wrong, and I’d prove it. 

   If they were gentle sheep, then I was a starving wolf. Out for blood. 

   Another deep sigh leaves my lips, and my shiny pink leotard feels extremely tight, almost like it’s squeezing the breath right out of my lungs. In the next moment, someone is hip checking me, and I almost topple over onto the mat from the unwelcome force. I glare in the direction of where the uncalled action came from, but I immediately drop my frown when I see it’s just my best friend, Cassie. 

   “Whoa, did you wake up on the wrong side of bed this morning? You’re awfully cranky,” she laughs as she presses down some dark flyaways from her tight bun and smoothes out her violet leotard with the back of her palms.

   “Sorry,” I grumble, letting my arms fall down to my sides in defeat. “I’m just on edge today with Coach Carr leaving.”

   Cassie blinks twice and looks up with sympathetic emerald eyes. “I know. I’m upset too, but what can we do? She’s already leaving, we can’t stop her now.”

   “Yeah, but why didn’t she at least wait until after regionals? You know how important that competition is. If we want to go to the national championships, then we have to bring our A-game,” I huff, stomping my heel into the squishy floor just to show how frustrated I am.

   “Ask her husband, he’s the one that got the new job in Denver. Maybe you can talk him into letting his wife stay just for you,” she laughs, pushing against my shoulder playfully to try to get me to lighten up, but it doesn’t work. “And it’s you, babe. You want to go to nationals, and you want to win that championship title. I’m just here to ride it out with you. You’ve got the heart of a lion in this gym. No way you aren’t getting that gold medal,” she says encouragingly. 

   I give her a fake smile and hip check her right back. “Says the girl who medaled at our last competition. You’re going with me, and that’s final,” I smile.

   “We’ll see about that,” she says with bright green eyes.

   The room lightens up a little bit as Cassie pulls some of the anger from my tense body, but it all comes crashing back down like shattering like glass the moment I see Coach Carr’s bubbly smile and long blonde hair swaying as she greets a man I don’t recognize by the glass door.

   I tip my head to the side and squint, hoping to get a better view of the mystery man with the tight-fitting white t-shirt and dark jeans that hug strong legs. “Who’s that?” I ask, hoping Cassie will have a clue as to who that might be.

   “I think that’s our new coach. Joel Miller,” she says, peeling her eyes over his broad body.

   “Who is he?” My voice comes out quieter, like I almost don’t want to know. Coach Carr never said anything about a male coach, and she definitely didn’t mention that he’d be older and so… handsome. 

   “Not too sure, but I’ve been hearing the other coaches talk lately. Heard he took his prior team all the way to nationals,” she voices, making my ears perk up at that.

   My eyes grow a little wider, and my back stiffens up at the mentions of nationals. “Nationals, huh? Then why isn’t he still there with that team?” Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, I try to study the tall man, as if I can see inside his mind.

   “Not sure,” she shrugs. “Guess he heard we were the best, and maybe it’s a better paid position? I don’t know, but Jesus. Do you see the biceps on that man? He’s hot. Maybe he can help me stretch… if you know what I mean,” she winks, curling a loose strand behind her ear as her eyes go starry.

   Oh, for the love of God. 

   “Cas, stop. You’re being gross.” I scrunch my nose in disgust and hit her lightly in the side of the shoulder. 

   “What? Like you don’t find him attractive? He’s ridiculously good looking. Just look at him,” she sighs dreamily, her eyes sparkling from the sunlight peeking through the windows.

   But I am looking at him. And whether I like it or not, he’s walking straight up to the spring floor with Coach Carr right at his heels, and he’s not too far from where I’m standing. 

   When he’s only a mere few feet from me, I notice how his biceps hug the soft fabric of his t-shirt and large veins spiral down his thick forearms, spidering along the backs of his rough hands, ending in strong fingers. I gulp when I see how devastating his dark brown eyes are. They’re almost like pure marble, smooth enough to sink into. And his hair. Thick, sandy brown with speckles of gray threading through his lush locks and his clipped beard. Cassie was right; he’s breathtaking.

   “Fuck yeah, bestie. He’s taking us all the way to nationals,” she whispers as a fit of giggles leave her pink lips. 

   I roll my eyes and seal my mouth shut, but I can’t help but keep sneaking secret glances at the man with pretty eyes. Cassie doesn’t need her big ego boosted to know she’s right. He is good looking, really good looking. But that doesn’t mean I’ll accept him here. Coach Carr is abandoning me right when I need her most. She was supposed to be there for regionals which would set me up for nationals. No way will I just accept a stranger, like he knows anything about my routines or moves. No. I’ll just give him the cold shoulder because I’m bitter about this whole stupid arrangement.

   “Girls, gather around! I’d like for you to meet someone.” She gestures to the mystery man and beams her white smile to the entire room. The rest of the gymnasts take their place on the spring floor and glance with anticipation at the newcomer. “This has been a super hard decision for me to leave you all, but I did my best to make sure you’ll be in good hands. So, girls, I’d like you to meet your new coach, Joel Miller.”

   All the girls’ eyes blow wide, and whispers flit around the room, echoing giggles and gossip that makes me silently groan. Some of them bat their long lashes, some fix their high ponytails and twirl the hair they can reach. Others just stare and gawk, letting their eyes roam the expanse of his broad body, and my stomach drops when I realize all my teammates are going to be swooning over our new coach. 

   I let my eyes rake over the spongy floor, dragging my heel over a piece of fuzz like it’ll get me out of this awkward situation. I don’t want a new coach, especially one that all the girls won’t stop talking about.

   “Now, you might’ve not heard of him before, but he’s coached a few varsity teams, and he even took the Oklahoma Sooners all the way to nationals, which I know is a dream for most of you,” she says proudly, her chin held high as some of the girls gasp and drop their jaws to the floor. 

   Great. Now I’ll have to hear their stupid lovesick mouths drag on about how handsome and talented he is. Give me a fucking break. 

   “Nationals? I want to go to nationals!” One of the girls shouts as she jumps up and down frantically, only stopping when Coach Carr tells her to settle down.

   “As do most of you, and I’m sure Coach Miller here will do just that,” she smiles wide, letting her long blonde hair fall over her light blue polo shirt. Joel sheepishly smiles and follows Coach Carr’s lead. “Okay, well let me go around the room and introduce you to all the girls. There’s quite a bit,” she laughs, glancing at me and the other eleven gymnasts.

   As she makes her way around the room slowly, I can’t help but tune the room out, making a small bubble in my mind where only my thoughts start to tick like the hanging clock above the front glass doors. 

   You can do this, just breathe. Don’t freak out, you’re only losing your most favorite coach in the entire world. I bite my lower lip and feel the sharp pain sink into my skin. 

   Breathe. 

   Just when I start to fade off into the soft blue tones in my mind, I hear my name being called loud and clear across the open room. I snap my eyes up frantically when Coach Carr says my name again. “And this is our shining star right here, Madison Summers. She’s the best of the best,” she smiles proudly, like I’ve just won her the gold medal.

   Joel shifts his weight to the left and folds his flexed arms over his broad chest, and I swear he’s about to rip right through that thin t-shirt. “Your shining star, s’that right?” he asks with a thick Southern drawl that floats through my eardrums like a sweet melody. 

   Fuck. Even his voice is charming. All deep and gravelly and annoyingly enthralling. It’s about to give me a damn headache at this rate.

   “Oh, yes,” she replies brazenly. “This girl right here has been bringing us home with first place titles since she started here. She’s the real deal, Miller. I think she might even take you all the way to nationals. Keep her on her toes.” She claps him on the back firmly, and a slow smile expands across his plush mouth, framing his dark mustache. His brown eyes flick over my body slowly like he’s assessing every single inch of me to make sure it’s true, and he parts his mouth like he wants to say something.

   Letting my hazel eyes fall to the ground, I adjust my position and keep my arms locked tight around my chest. Maybe I can hide from the red blush that’s building in my cheeks because now all the girls are staring at me with envy, and I despise being the center of attention. 

   When the sting of embarrassment starts to fade away, I hear him clear his throat. “Impressive. Guess we’ll jus’ have to see ‘bout nationals then. See jus’ what you bring to the floor, Shining Star,” he murmurs with a light voice that spouts off that deep, gravelly tone that makes my insides clench.

   Shining Star. The nickname makes the little light blonde hairs on my neck stand straight up and has my crimson cheeks flushed. He needs to stop.

   I slowly lift my chin, and then my eyes meet his straight on. Butterflies flit through the pit of my stomach for just a second when his amber colored irises stay locked on mine. He gives me a once over, one eyebrow lifted as if I’ve piqued his interest, and that’s the last thing I want to be right now because these girls will give me hell about it.

   Averting my eyes back to the floor to escape that growing tension in the air, I listen to Coach Carr go on about how she’s letting Joel take the reins. I can still feel his dark eyes honing in on me, and the room suddenly feels like the Texas summer heat, stifling and insufferable. I don’t care what it takes, but I will not think of Coach Miller as anything other than my coach. He may be handsome as hell, but there’s no way I’m going to simp like a lovesick puppy over him like every other girl in this gym. 

   Katelyn’s piercing blue eyes find mine in an instant when I finally find the strength to look up. Her painted red lips are pursed, and her high cheekbones look like they could cut straight through glass with the way she’s glaring. Her too-tight, sparkly white leotard shows off her curvy figure, and I know she’s already jealous of the attention I’m getting. 

   Great. Just great. That’s the last thing I wanted to happen. She already hates my guts; why did Coach Carr have to make it worse? 

   I concentrate back on the fabric of the ocean blue floor and pray it’ll swallow me whole. Cassie places a comforting palm on my shoulder and nudges me to see if I’m alright. I give her a tight-lipped smile and again pretend. So much for not feeling overwhelmed and anxious today. 

   Joel’s voice booms through the room, and my hesitant eyes slowly shift back up to him as he paces the floor and looks out to the sea of eager gymnasts. “Alright, ladies. Coach Carr here has given me a rundown of some of your routines, but I’d like to jus’ walk around the room today and get a feel for them and how your practices usually go. She was kind enough to let me scope the team out a few weeks ago. And I will say, I was very impressed. Some more than others.” His eyes shift to find mine, and I suddenly feel like a deer in the headlights. Blindsighted and paralyzed. He’ll surely collide right into me at the worst possible time when I don’t even see him coming.

   He’s been at practice before? He’s watched me specifically? Oh, shit. 

   Some of the other girls giggle, but I stand frozen like a mouse caught in a trap. How can Coach Carr leave me alone with him? He’ll have me losing my balance over a simple split jump on the balance beam. But I won’t let that happen. Not a chance because I’m going to ice him out, just like I planned to do before I even knew he’d be the new coach. 

   “Okay, girls. I do have to get going, I'm afraid, but please be respectful to Coach Miller. He is a very good coach, and I expect you all to be on your best behaviors.” She gives all the girls a knowing look that says don’t test her, and then she makes her way over to me as some of the girls disperse around the gym.

   “Ahh, my favorite athlete,” she smiles as she pulls me in for a tight squeeze. I breathe in her lemon perfume and memorize what it feels like to be embraced by her because I won’t have any more warm hugs after this. I’ll only have rough hands that maybe high five me for landing a double tuck on the mat, if that. 

   I squeeze her right back and hold on for dear life. “Please, don’t go. I need you,” I whine, afraid tears might run down my cheeks when I watch her walk out that door one last time.

   “I’m sorry. Truly, I am. I hate leaving you, but you know I’ll be there for Regionals.” She gathers my hands in hers and squeezes gently. I feel the sting of fresh tears in the back of my eyes, and they start to gloss over. 

   “Hey, now,” she reassures me. “You’re going to be just fine without me. You have a great coach to take over my spot now.” She smiles warmly, but it doesn’t quite meet her bright blue eyes.

   “But it’s not you. You promised to take me all the way to Nationals,” I pout, letting my bottom lip jut out as a cold tear slips free.

   “Hey, no tears now. Everything will be okay. And I know I promised, but marriage and Eric’s new job just got in the way. I can’t tell you how sorry I truly am, but I still believe in you. You’ve got this, and Joel will take you to Nationals. I know he will.” 

   My eyes flick to him subtly, and I huff out a long sigh as my eyes start to narrow into thin slits. Joel wouldn’t take me to nationals. It was never his job to, and I sure as hell don’t want to put my faith in a new coach I know almost nothing about. I don’t care how good looking he is; he’s not my coach. 

   Coach Carr quickly picks up on my building anger and irritation to the whole situation, so she steers me back to look her dead in the eyes. “Hey, be nice. I don’t want you giving him trouble just because you’re upset,” she warns with a stern look written over her serious face. 

   “Who said I was going to give him trouble?” I scoff, kicking my heel into the blue padding of the floor like that will do me any good.

   “Madison Summers!” She says my full name sharply like a mother would when their child is getting scolded, and her grip tightens on my hands. “Now, I know you very well. And I know when you’re upset. You can be upset with me, but please don’t take it out on him. He’s only here to help you reach your dreams, and I have no doubt that he’ll do just that. So give him a chance, for my sake. I wouldn’t leave you to someone I didn’t trust.”

   I bite my lower lip and nod, turning my gaze back to Joel as he focuses on Giselle’s uneven bar routine, watching the way her sparkly red leotard shimmers in the glistening sunlight that melts through the glass windows. Sighing heavily, I agree to obey her wishes, “Okay, I guess I can try to play nice.”

   She gives me a quick hug and squeezes tightly. “That’s my girl.” I let the warm comfort envelop me fully, remembering the scent of spearmint gum and lemon perfume. A smell I’ll soon only remember in my fading memory. 

   With one more hug, she sends her best wishes to me and says goodbye to the other girls, and then she’s just gone. A vacant ghost that’s disappeared into her new life. 

   A life that I won’t be in.

   I watch the glass window like she’ll come back, like she was just kidding about leaving the entire time, but every second the clock ticks tells me she’s gone. And now I have to suffer without her. First it was my dad, now my favorite coach…

   Dragging my feet on the thick carpet, I hold my head high and decide to focus on my balance beam routine today. I’ve been struggling with sticking my landings lately, and I need to focus.

   Blocking out all the blaring music in the gym, I pull my head together and spend the next couple of hours perfecting my routine. Firm arms, chin up, jump high, dazzle the crowd, smile. But it’s hard faking a smile when my favorite coach just left me in the dust to deal with him. Coach Miller, the bane of my existence.

   Pushing him clear out of my mind, I find my center and complete a back handspring, back tuck combination, throwing all my rolling emotions into quick motions. I think I have it but when I land, I find that I nearly get knocked off my center and almost go crashing down to the blue mat that sits beneath me. 

   Shit. Almost had it.

   “Tuck your knees and point your toes harder.” The deep voice nearly takes me over the edge of the chalky beam.

   “What?” I whisper out, looking up under my thick lashes, right at Joel fucking Miller.

   “Tuck your knees more next time. It’ll speed up your rotation, and you’ll land solid. Pointin’ your toes harder will give you quicker and sharper movements. And remember, presentation is everything.” He leans against the white wall steadily, right next to one of the chalk stands and carelessly taps his index finger against his tanned forearm.  

   “My rotation was just fine,” I sneer.

   “Could be quicker,” he defaults back quickly.

   “I was quick enough,” I snap.

   “Is that why you almost fell after your back tuck?” He tilts his head and gives me a contemplative look that dares me to challenge him. I bite my tongue in response and stare right into his big brown eyes, not saying a word.

   God. Those fucking eyes.

    “Jus’ try again,” he presses, his eyes fixed on me. I purse my lips and dig my hands into my hips, standing my ground as the balance beam becomes my rock. I don’t want to try again. At least not when he’s looking and has his eyes glued on every single move I make. I could’ve figured it out on my own how to perfect my landing.I don’t need him.

   “I don’t got all day. The clock’s tickin’.” He points to the black military style watch on his left wrist and keeps his large arms glued across his chest, his thick eyebrows threading together like he expects me to fire off another sharp response.

   I huff and get back into position, my toes pointed and resting right on the edge. I take one quick glance his way and then jolt my body backwards. With my toes pointed hard, almost sharp as a pencil, I flip into a back handspring, my fingers meeting the beam for just a second, and then I jump hard and high. Making sure to tuck my knees deeper into my chest, I flip into a back tuck easily. Every rotation seems sharper and faster, much better than the sluggish one I just did before. And before I know it, I’m landing perfectly on the balance beam, not even a single wobble flows through my body as I stick the landing.

   Joel’s eyebrows raise, and the hint of a proud smirk shadows his mouth. I want to wipe that stupid smirk off his face because I know just what he’s thinking. He was right all along. “What’d I tell ya? Perfect landin’. Maybe you should listen to me after all, huh? Think I might know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

   I roll my eyes and cross my arms firmly over my chest, standing with full attention on the balance beam. “I could’ve figured it out on my own.”

   “You’re a stubborn thing, ain’t ya?” he chuckles, shaking his head as silver threads and sandy brown curls tousle with every movement he makes. His eyes are basically milk chocolate, the way they glitter in the sunlight when he’s laughing. And I fucking hate it.

   “Apparently,” I shrug, giving him a stern look while I lick my tongue against my bottom teeth aggressively. 

   “We’ll jus’ have to work on that then, won’t we?” He tips his head my way and pushes off the wall, flexing his rock hard biceps as he waltzes away with a stupid grin spread across his mouth. 

   I clench my fists at my sides and dig my heels into the firm balance beam, trying my best to keep my wits about me. Stupid Coach Miller and his sly remarks. 

   Stubborn thing, ain’t ya. I scoff at the statement. Of course I’m stubborn. If he thinks he’ll get on my good side and tear down my walls then he’s sadly mistaken. I won’t budge. No. I’ll just have to show him how much more stubborn I can be.

   This isn’t his gym. This is mine. And I plan to make that very clear.

[c0ld0utside]

Do you write angst/sadder ideas?

I had a idea of a reader whose mother died during birth, and because of the grief their father accidentally ignored them? Working constantly, missing important events. Like he’s not the worst father, just absent. could make him rich so reader spends more time with a nanny then their own father.

So reader runs away, and the father finally realized what he did and has to try to find reader? (Readers at a friends house but the father doesn’t really know their friends. Or something like that idk)

sorry if this is long or something that’s boring, perfectly fine if you don’t want to do it :)))

Sorry this took me so long. No TW's really (not that I know of at least).

Could you blame him? Being a single father was hard, especially when you’re a CEO for a company that owns other companies and so on… and when you remind him so much of who he lost. Maybe it’s your eyes, or your face shape or the texture of your hair. Maybe even the way you talk. Regardless, Steven was a busy, sad, mourning man who’s grief worsened upon seeing you, his only child.

He tried to make it up to you. He hired you a nanny- Ms. Noya- to be there for you instead. He’d send you birthday cards- May 18th is your birthday, right? Steven would even send you cupcakes- only to find years later that you didn’t like cupcakes. Odd. Who doesn’t like cupcakes? Whatever. Point is, he tries. Even if Steven’s work is more important than you and those soccer matches and choir concerts that he missed.

At least Ms. Noya attended, right? Well- even if she couldn’t make it to all of your games at least someone is cheering you on. Steven doesn’t know that some of your classmates make fun of you for needing a Nanny. That they mock you for your lack of attention. That Mommy died because of you and Daddy hates you for it.

If he had known sooner he would’ve dismissed all of those things. Told you that no, he doesn’t hate you for what happened because- well, these things happen. He and your mother knew the risks. Steven just didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did.

Steven stands there in your empty bedroom on the verge of having a panic attack. After seeing your posts online of games you won and concerts you were a part of, he mustered up his courage and decided to finally come home. Only to find that you weren’t there. Nor was your Nanny. He searched all over the home, calling out for you and Ms. Noya but got no answer. He tried calling you with his phone- you wouldn’t pick up.

So, he searched your room and found your diary. Steven knew it was a #1 rule to not go through your child’s diary, but he needed clues to where you were. And he hasn’t spoken to you in so long- it suddenly hit him that he knew nothing about you. How shameful.

…

Steven set the diary down with a shaky sigh.

I don’t know why I’m still not used to him being here.

I’ve been throwing the cupcakes away.

I don’t even use most of the stuff he gives me. I should give it away. It’s cluttering up my room and closet.

I wish he’d actually just stop by for once. I didn’t kill her. It’s not my fault. I don’t even want to be here.

Fuck this. I don’t know why I’m still waiting for him. I’m going to Lucy’s.

Lucy? Who is Lucy? A friend? Steven quickly calls up the school to ask them about a “Lucy.” On a rare stroke of luck, there’s only one Lucy in your school. After getting her address (people are so easily bribed with money), Steven immediately called the police.

Was it the best reaction? Noooo. But come on- if it was him who had showed up you wouldn’t have come back. Steven was sure of that. Especially after reading your diary. (He was 100% wrong.)

Yeah you freaked out on him once you got home. He expected that! You were just put in a police car after all. It’s amusing, really, how nervous he is. Him, Steven (l/n), a CEO that essentially has it all. Has been through countless meetings where he was calm and precise and knew what to say.

“I’m really sorry sweetheart! I didn’t know where you were and I- …I had to see you. I know it’s been a long while and that that’s an understatement but it’s been so long and I need to make it all up to you.”

-

Going back to school the next day had been extremely awkward for you and your friends. When you got home, you were horrified to find out that Ms. Noya had been…”removed,” putting it lightly.

“I’m going to be working from home from now on, so we won’t be needing her anymore.” Steven had told you. He shushed you when you started to protest, patting your head like a toddler.

“I know there are huge changes happening, but it’s okay! I’ll fix everything and we can make up for lost time. I promise.”

“Daddy’s here now, and he won’t leave you alone again.”

____

Yall I'm sorry this is taking me so long forgive me please. My chromebook has been acting up so I'm stuck writing on my phone.

Criticism is welcome. Remember to drink some water and eat.

[nevernonline]

✧.* what’s your number?; kmg

synposis: after finding an online article about the number of sexual partners a woman should have, your day with your neighbor turns into him being lucky number eighteen.

paring/s: model! mingyu x afab! reader, ft. little brother! chan.

genre/s: humor (sort of lmao), neighbors2lvrs vibes, fuckboy&girl reader and gyu.

warning/s: alcohol consumption, sexual content (minors - dni), talks of broken bones, oc has female genitalia

word count: 3.8k

content: seggsy times, idiots being besties, reader loses her job, all the vibes.

note/s: loosely based on one of my fav movies, what's your number with anna ferris. lmao enjoy. also def unedited so srry. xo.

“Miss. Y/L/N. I’m very sorry but we have decided to let you go.” 

Your boss put down a brown cardboard box that once held wine from a staff party about a week ago. You stood in silence, why were you being fired? You’re one of the only executives who does their job. All of the other employees sit around and drink whiskey and flirt with the other women on your floor on company time, go home to their wives, and make six figures. 

“Sir, can I ask why?” 

“Budget cuts, sorry honey.” 

Honey of course. Not only is he himulating you, he’s also being condescending. 

“Why not fire Ted? He does nothing but use his company card for ‘business expenses’ like taking his different fucks to exotic vacations and restaurants.” 

“Our female clients like Theodore. Sorry it has to be this way. Here’s a check to keep your rent underway and for any troubles. Good luck.” 

You picked up the brown cardboard he handed it to you and dumped the white envelope into your bag as you stormed out of his glass chamber. 

Perfect timing, your brothers getting married and you’re getting fired. Your mother will surely love to hear about this. 

After gathering the contents of your desk you found your way back to your white and gray covered apartment, sinking down into the perfect couch you bought yourself as a reward for your first month in the job. 

Pulling your laptop from the pocket of your work bag, you scrolled through the news on your side widget . Coming across an article written in some stupid lifestyle magazine about ‘the appropriate number of sexual partners for women.’ 

“Okay, so society is regressing.” 

Curious enough you scrolled through to a small section with a quiz, childish, but probably suitable for women over 50 or under 21. 

Following your finger down the various categories that pertained to you until it came to the bottom of the page pointing out your result. 

“15 and over, women with this number often have difficulty finding a spouse and are unlikely to ever settle down. Are they fucking serious? Men can fuck 50 women and still are fine.” 

A vibration came from your phone, a text from your neighbor. 

[3:44pm]. 

Mingyu: Mind helping me out? New girl won’t take the bait about my “emergency” 

Y/N: what’s the issue with her this time? 

Mingyu: nothing, just too clingy. I’m expecting you in five, say our dad fell in the shower. Thank you, owe you. 

Y/n: got it see you in five. 

Mingyu and you met often when you were ushering out hook ups or crazy exes show up to your door. You didn’t know much about his life, other than he’s a model, and obviously has bad luck with women. 

Pulling yourself up off your couch and throwing a blazer back over your shoulders you strode off down to the other end of the hallway. 

“Mingyu? Mingyu seriously answer your phone? Hello!” 

The door opened revealing a semi-naked girl, she was pretty sure, blonde, tall, nice eyes, but boring. 

“Who the fuck are you?” 

“Mingyu’s sister, who the fuck are you?” 

“Oh my god! So sorry, hi so nice to meet you, I’m Ailee his gir-“ 

“My friend, y/n. What’s wrong?” 

Letting yourself passes the bra sporting blonde you looked Mingyu straight in the face and pulled out your best crying face, it was easy today being that you’re pissed about work and that stupid fucking quiz. 

“It’s dad, he fell. I don’t think it’s good, we have to go.” 

“Oh. Okay, let me change.” 

Mingyu pulled in his jeans and a white t-shirt, grabbed his fancy leather wallet from the counter and pulled you through the front door of his condo. 

“Ailee, let yourself out okay?” 

“Call me?”

“Uh, maybe it sounds like this is bad, maybe we should stop seeing each other? I’ll call you.” 

The truth is Mingyu was never going to call her, he said that to all the others. Yet, you never saw them again. 

Silently you open the door to your place and shut it behind you. 

“She seems nice.” 

“Yeah trust me, she’s not.” 

“Noted. But, better than that crazy red headed girl, Cass was it?” 

“We don’t have to talk about her.” 

“Missing that jacket still?”

“Yes.” 

Mingyu took his place on your leather armchair and sipped the coffee you had initially made for yourself. 

“What is this? What’s your number?”

“Oh my god. Stop looking at my shit.” 

You whipped the lid of your laptop close and stole it out of his hands

“Do you really think anyone cares how many people you sleep with? Isn’t that kind of fucked up?” 

“You can only say that because well, one your a man and two you’ve fucked basically half the women in this city.” 

“Not true, we haven’t fucked.” 

“Right and we will not.” 

“Sure, sure keep telling yourself that. So what is it? 12?” 

“Do you really need that answer?” 

“Yes. And I will bother you until you tell me.” 

“17.” 

Mingyu laughed, not because he felt bad for you or that you were going to hell for fucking 17 people, but because he didn’t see the big deal. 

“Oh come on, that is not that bad.” 

“What’s yours?” 

“Maybe 20?” 

“We are way too close in number for me to not feel weird about it now.” 

“Because it doesn’t matter, why do you think you couldn’t get a husband or boyfriend or whatever the fuck you want because of that?” 

“I don’t know, I didn’t until today I guess.” 

“Bad day?” 

The dark haired man’s head nodded towards the unpacked cardboard box sitting on your dining table. 

“Weird day. And now I have to go see my family at an overly fancy party and sit around clutching cocktails and lie that I didn’t lose my job, just until their precious boy is married off.” 

“Ah, the black sheep of a rich family huh?” 

“Shut up, no. They’re just judgmental is all. Well, my mom is anyway.” 

“I see. What are you wearing?” 

“I don’t know? What’s wrong with what I have on now?” 

Mingyu looked you over in your semi unbuttoned dress shirt and oversized trousers, sexy and sophisticated, but a little boring for a party. 

“Actually you look good. But, it’s not exactly giving a cocktail party for the sister of the groom. Especially if your mom is as judgmental as you say.” 

“Okay, go in my closet then. Work your weird model magic or whatever, Mr. Jeans and white tee.” 

“Anything for you, rich girl.” 

You walked Mingyu through your bedroom into the oversized walk in closet, filled to the brim of clothes, half of them with tags still on. Gifts from boyfriends, friends, your mother. 

“Wow, I didn’t expect this.” 

“And what did you expect?” 

“A closet turned into an office and like five pairs of the same pants, maybe matching pajama sets. But not this.” 

Sitting down on the small stool you let the man rifle his way through the various colors of fabric. 

“Okay, so this black dress. It’s tight but not overwhelmingly, it’ll show your figure and still make you appropriate. These tall black boots, sexy to show off your long legs and make you look even taller, a nice bag, maybe.. this red one? Or the green, just for a pop of color. Put it on.” 

“You finish quickly .” 

“Never had a woman say that to me before. Hurry up.” 

Smirking, you run back into your bedroom, out of sight from the man tapping his fingers on the marble countertop of your dressing room, sliding into the outfit he picked out. 

“Okay, I look-“

“Beautiful.” 

“Really? Don’t you think this is a little much? I mean, for this?” 

“Not at all, it’s actually really simple. May I?” 

He held up a silver chain necklace in his hands and waited until you nodded as he strung it around your neck. 

“Perfect. Now, leave your hair up. Maybe a nice bun and curl the front pieces? You look nice without makeup on, but do that cute winged liner look you do with a nude lip.” 

“Okay, since when did you become a stylist?” 

“I’m a model, I know what I’m talking about. Come on, chop chop.” 

“Okay, mom. Jesus.” 

“Dad. Daddy, actually.” 

“That's never happening.” 

Doing his instructions as he asked, you curled the front pieces of your hair letting it softly dangle in front of your face and placed the rest up on the crown of your head in a loosely tied knot. 

“Okay. So maybe you’re good at this.” 

“I know. If you need my help further, you know where to find me.” 

“You’re leaving?” 

“Aren’t you?” 

Holding up your phone you realized how much time has passed and grabbed your keys. 

“Right. Thank you.” 

“My pleasure. See you soon, y/n.” 

“Bye, Gyu.” 

Walking up to the front steps of your parents luxurious brown stone, you felt the cold sweat under your armpits before walking in the front door. 

“Y/N holy shit, where have you been? Mom is going to kick your ass.” 

“Sorry, Chanie. I had something going on. Where is she?” 

“In the dining room with Marnie and Seungcheol. Talking about wedding stuff, please save us.” 

Coming to your brother's rescue was part of the job of being an older sister. Seeing him settle down and get engaged to a girl like Marnie was amazing for you, she was everything he needed, and it was nice to have another girl in your family. 

Grabbing  a glass of champagne from the silver tray of a waiter, you strode up to your mother in your childhood home, still as nervous as you would have been as a little girl to be under her gaze. 

“Aw, my baby. Finally arrived. Hello.” 

“Hi, Mom. Hello, guys.” 

You mom hugged you giving a kiss on both of your blushing cheeks passing you along to greet your brother's future wife and his friend Seungcheol. 

“Y/N, you look amazing. Where did you get this beautiful dress?” 

“Thank you. My friend helped me pick this out actually, I don’t remember where it’s from.” 

“Friend? Which friend is this, darling?” 

“His name is Mingyu, he’s my neighbor.” 

“Gay? He has wonderful taste.” 

“No, not gay mom. He’s a model.” 

“Oh wow, can I see a photo? Why didn’t you bring him?” 

“Maybe next time.” 

After downing the first glass of alcohol you quickly look for another, Seungcheol already holding a glass in his hand for you with a wink. 

“Thank you.” 

“Anytime.” 

“Y/N, can you go find your father? Now that you're here we can start dinner.” 

“Yep.” 

Strolling throw the various rooms full of priceless knickknacks and photos of your youth, you stop at the open oak doors of your fathers study, looking at him for a moment, behind his desk, glasses on, reading his book. 

“Hello, Dad. May I come in?” 

“Y/N, yes of course. Just hiding out here until I can eat some dinner. How are you?” 

“I’m okay, mom sent me to get you to come eat. What are you reading?” 

“Oh, just some Orwell. Relaxes me.” 

“Shall we, sir?” 

“Yes, my girl.” 

You held your arm out for your father, he was always your best friend, someone who no matter what supported everything you wanted to do. He was stern, but even after parenting you he would end it with a hug and a piece of candy, seeing him grow older had your heart in pain. 

Searching the table for your placecard, it sat you right in between your brother and Seungcheol, his best man and best friend for longer than you could ever remember. 

“Are you coming to his bachelor mixer?” 

Seungcheol’s long eyelashes fluttered in front of your face and you noticed how much more mature he looked, he was always cute, but it’s grown on you now. 

“Are you going to embarrass me?” 

“I’m not the one who got drunk in college and broke her arm trying to dive into the fountain.” 

“Ouch. At least I haven’t shit myself drunk as an adult and embarrassed myself in front of the girl I liked.” 

“I did not shit myself. It was a fart.” 

“A fart with a little poop, a shart if you will. What did they call you? Shart Seungcheol?” 

Your mother interrupted the light flirting you two were enjoying and gave a speech about how lovely it is to see her baby marrying a second daughter and so on and so on. 

After everyone downed their salmon and fancy finger food, you got into the silly party bus along side the rest of the bridal party, moving on to the night of drinking ahead of you. 

“Guys let’s play a game on the way to the bar.” 

Your brother's fiancé spoke, turning down the music and passing around multiple bottles of tequila and glasses. 

“Everyone right down a confession on your paper. If we guess whose it is, they have to drink, but if you get it wrong you drink.” 

Looking down at the small pink sheet of paper you wrote about your day, your sex number, and you losing your job. Maybe nobody will get it, maybe nobody will care because they’ll be equally as drunk. 

The game went on as your anxiety grew and nobody had chosen your confession yet, that was until your brother pulled one of the last sheets of paper out from the bowl. 

“Today I lost my job, I let a stupid magazine article tell me how women who have sex with more than 15 men means they’re unloveable and unwanted. I can’t wait to get fucked up. Congratulations! Well that’s my sister.” 

“What? How did you guess that?” 

“I know your handwriting dumbass, drink, everyone drink.” 

Your night continued, nobody mentioned your failure as a person, they just celebrated the happy couple. 

More and more drinks in, maybe the same amount of people you’ve had sex with. You took it upon yourself to get people on the dance floor, when you felt a pair of hands coming up on your hips, turning around to curse them out, you recognized the eyes staring back at you. 

Mingyu. 

“What the hell are you doing here!?” 

“Birthday party, we always come here. What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Mixed sexes bachelor party.” 

Mingyu's hands were still resting on your hips, on top of the very dress he helped you pick out hours before. 

“Exciting. Want to get a drink with me?” 

“I have one.” 

You held up the half empty glass of your Negroni and Mingyu snatched it from your grip, downing it for you. 

“You’re paying.” 

“Yes. That was the plan.” 

His hand pulled out off the dance floor and back over to a pair black leather bar stools, waving the bartender over. 

“Two whiskey sours please.” 

“No, one whiskey sour. I’ll have a whiskey neat.” 

The bartender nodded working his magic for the two rocks glasses. 

“Here you go, tab Mingyu?” 

“Yes, thanks John.” 

“Wow first name bases?” 

“I told you we like to come here. Who’s the pale dude staring at us?” 

You turned around to look at your brother, cheering you from across the bar. 

“My brother, Chan. His wedding party.” 

“Yes, I remember. I meant the one next to him?” 

“Ah, Seungcheol. Best man.” 

“He wants to fuck you, maybe he’s lucky number eighteen.” 

“Maybe he was lucky number ten back in the day.” 

“Do you remember his number?” 

“No, but I’ve already fucked him. In college.” 

“Ah, I see. Still on the hunt?” 

“Not at all actually, I’m celabte now.” 

“No way, I bet you could find many dudes who’d want to fuck you here.” 

“It’s a matter of if I want to fuck them no?” 

“Touchè” 

“What about him?” 

Mingyu pointed to a tall blonde, long hair, and pretty lips. 

“Gorgeous. But not my style. I’m not really in the mood to get laid.” 

“And let my work go to waste?” 

You smiled, sipping your drink and feeling the warm liquid enter your body. 

“You didn’t give me my beautiful face and fat ass, you just put it in a dress. And as my dad says, leave them wanting more.” 

“You’re a very funny drunk, she shocks me even more.” 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Do you ever get tired of having me save your ass from all those girls? Don’t you want to settle down and not have your neighbor coming over to rescue you all the time?” 

“Maybe the reason I do it is so you’ll save me.” 

“Shut up.” 

“No. I’m serious. I like hanging out with you, I enjoy seeing you, and you’re very entertaining. I like role play.” 

“I see, you have a kink.” 

“All jokes aside, I like seeing you.” 

You were surprised by his gentle voice and nature, you always knew him from the outside, a beautiful guy who has bad luck getting girls out of his apartment for whatever reason. 

“I like seeing you too.” 

Mingyu's hand rested on your thigh as he looked towards the same dance floor he pulled you from before, basically begging you with his eyes to come back out with him. 

You agreed, holding his hands through various sweaty bodies, some you knew and some you didn’t. Dancing along with them to the rhythm of the song, holding yourself up on Mingyu's large frame 

“Surprised to see you in something other than jeans and a tee.”

“You like?” 

“If I say yes are you going to fuck with me over it?” 

“Maybe. Are you going to let me be your lucky number eighteen?” 

“If you promise you don’t have some random girl barge in your door tomorrow to get me to leave?” 

“She’ll be tied up.” 

“Let’s go. I have to say bye to my brother first. Come on.” 

Walking towards the door you spot Chan playing darts with Marnie, who was obviously kicking his ass. 

“Hey! I’m going to head out, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Is this Mingyu?” 

“Oh shit, yes Marnie, Chan, this is Mingyu. Mingyu, this is my brother Chan and his fiancé Marnie.” 

Mingyu outstretched his hand to the couple, shaking it kindly. 

“Nice to meet you man, my sister talks about you a lot. Be good to her.” 

“Chan, shut the hell up. Love you both, mwah mwah.” 

“Mingyu if you’re free tomorrow, y/n has a plus one. We’d love to have you.” 

Smiling and whisking Mingyu out of the front door, you began to run together through the light rain falling, two blocks to your apartment. 

“Sorry, my brothers, an idiot.” 

“He seems nice, his wife to be too.” 

You felt your hands shaking in nervousness riding up the elevator to your shared floor. Stepping off and standing in the hallway between your two front doors. 

“Your place or mine?” 

“Well, I picked you up didn't I? Come to mine.” 

Mingyu led you through his familiar front door and helped you out of your wet clothes, throwing them in his washing machine. 

Now standing in his living room, just in your black lace bra and panties, feeling like all those other girls before. Almost in fear of someone knocking to kick you out of his dimmed apartment. 

“Come on.” 

You giggled as he picked up your half naked frame and carried you into his bedroom. 

“Lay down. Off the edge of the bed, trust me.” 

You didn’t say anything just followed his instructions as his fingers came and wrapped themselves around your lace underwear, blowing on your clit with his soft breath as he pulled them down your freshly shaved legs. 

“Fuck.” 

His lips came in contact between your heated center, splitting his kisses between your aching parts and your thighs. 

Your hands working their way through his hair as he used his tongue to work his way around your clit and between your folds, pushing you closer and closer into your own euphoria. 

Maybe you understood why girls didn’t want to let him go, if this was his head game, you can’t even imagine what could come next. 

“You taste so sweet, I should’ve known better to be careful, I might get addicted to you.” 

“Stop with the niceties, Gyu. Can you please fuck me?” 

“Eager are we?” 

“Yes.” 

Mingyu pulled you up by the back of your neck, forcing your head near the top of his dick, waiting for you to wrap your mouth around it and get it sopping wet so he could enter in between your legs. 

“Oh, baby, that feels so good. I love watching you on my dick, but we have to stop before you get me going too much.” 

Your head turned up at him, mascara slightly spilling under your eyes, as you opened your mouth searching for the feeling of his lips on yours, before he planted in on you he spit into your mouth, and inserted himself between the same thighs he was kissing before, slowly entering inch by inch, making you wait to feel him fully inside of you even more. 

“Comfortable, baby?” 

“Yes, faster please.” 

“So polite, but as you said before, leave them wanting more and more. I want you to get riled up.”  

“Yes, sir.” 

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.” 

His thrusting became more rapid with your soft moaning, kissing your neck in the process, riding out your high with you, you felt him begging to slow down as his teeth wrapped around your hard nipples, sucking softly at them. 

“You’re so delicious, I don’t think I can last much longer.” 

“Me either, but it’s only round one.” 

“Do you want to do this again?” 

“Eighteen has always been my lucky number, now fill me up.” 

With your final words, Mingyu rode the rest of his high before finishing inside of you, placing a soft kiss on your perfectly pink lips, and dipping his head back down to your center to clean you up with his mouth. 

“Want to stay?” 

“Is that alright?” 

“Yeah, come on. Let’s shower.” 

The tall man led you into his beautiful marble bathroom and turned the water on in his shower built for two. 

“I meant what I said at the bar, you know. I like being with you.”  

Your long arms reached up to his hair, massaging his scalp with shampoo. 

“I meant what I said too, lucky eighteen.” 

“So I’m your lucky number?” 

“Yes, don’t tell my mom tomorrow.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell her that you called me sir and the ass she gave you is indeed perfect.” 

You planted a soft kiss on his lips, before pushing him back under the warm water of the shower head. 

“I dare you.” 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for disapproving of my best friend's relationship? (CW for grooming)

Context: about a year ago I (17, transmasc) joined a local group for queer teenagers to hang out and do stuff together (we meet once a week at the library). The group consists of roughly 10 people and I usually get along with all of them, but my closest friend in the group is W (20, transfem). I would say she's my best friend in general, and I think she'd say the same for me. I'm still in high school and W goes to the community college here.

A few weeks ago, myself, W, and another friend from the group, J (18, cis guy) were over at my place. After a while W said she had some news for us - she'd gotten into a relationship! W used to be (and still is) very socially isolated. She didn't have any friends to speak of before joining the group, not even online, so for her to find a romantic partner was super exciting and I was honestly really proud of her. I obviously wanted to hear more about it, so I asked her to elaborate and this is where things go off the rails.

She said that her new girlfriend (let's call her L) was also trans, and that she was 27. She said they'd met in college and started spending more and more time together. She told us she'd honestly just expected to be friends, but over the winter break L officially asked her out, she was elated, and since then they'd been spending basically all their free time together. immediately alarm bells started ringing in my head - I asked her if I'd heard it right, that L is 27, and W responded yeah, and she knows it's a little strange, but she doesn't mind, so whatever.

I tried to calmly tell her that a 7 year age gap is way too much and that it's not a safe relationship to be in. She immediately got defensive, saying she's an adult and she can do what she wants, etc etc. I said I don't care if she's technically an adult, that's still fucking creepy! I asked J, who had been keeping quiet the whole time, to back me up, but all he did was give me that "I don't know, it's not my place to say anything" bullshit. I was genuinely shocked, I thought he would have supported me but he just… waffled. We had all gotten pretty heated, and at this point W had stood up and started shuffling over to the door. She started in saying I was overreacting over nothing, that they'd been together for not even two weeks, and she didn't need my permission to have this relationship. She said she thought she could trust me, she only told me because she thought I'd be happy for her, on and on, and then she walked out.

It's been a few weeks since then, and she hasn't shown up to the group at the library. I've been too scared to text her because she's clearly pissed off at me. I recognize that I wasn't very good at keeping my composure, and I definitely could have been kinder about it, but I was just scared for my friend. It would be worrying if anyone had gotten into a relationship with that much of an age gap - but she has essentially 0 social skills, and hasn't been in a relationship before, so I'm terrified that she's being taken advantage of because of her inexperience.

What are these acronyms?

[theaceace]

I know that canonically (show-wise, at least) St Hilarion's worked to cover up Charles' death, and nothing was ever really done about the disappearance of Edwin and the other boys, but even so, do you think the school has a reputation for being haunted??

I'm imagining Niko following various ghost-hunter groups online, especially when the agency doesn't have many cases going on, and occasionally the boys will mirror hop over to an interesting-sounding location, and they'll even get a real case as a result

So when she tells them that one of the teams is planning to investigate St Hilarion's (either it's been closed for a while or they have special permission to go during the summer holidays), Edwin and Charles steel themselves and decide to go, in case there are other ghosts there that need help ('can't imagine a worse place to be trapped for the rest of my afterlife' says Charles, who has been to literal hell. Edwin, who spent 70 years in literal hell, agrees)

So they go, with Niko and Crystal as moral/emotional support, except when they get there they realise they've fucked up and are there on the same day/night as the ghost hunters. They could come back some other time, but what if there really are ghosts here that are suffering? No one wants to take that chance, so Crystal uses her powers to convince them that she and Niko are there for work experience, or are friends of a friend, or are here to replace one of the tech guys who called in sick

Both Charles and Edwin are tense and uncomfortable returning to the place they died - Edwin had gone there after he escaped Hell because he didn't know where else to go, but they've built themselves a home now with the agency. This isn't like before, when it was the closest place to familiar he could find. Charles, meanwhile, feels colder and colder the longer they're there - his hair is wet, there are bruises flaring and spreading, and a faint rattle in his chest that would have become pneumonia if he'd lived long enough

But they need to be sure there aren't any other lost ghosts stuck here that need their help crossing over, so they keep going

(maybe, as a consequence of a door to hell being opened in the school, there are unusual happenings, maybe there's still a place where the line between earth and hell is very thin, maybe there's some fragment of a demon left behind, and they can do something about it)

Anyway, the most important thing is that Charles, either accidentally or in a fit of pique at the whole situation, knocks something over just as one of the paranormal investigators is asking for spirits to make their presence known. In fact, this happens repeatedly - the boys move things, change things around, their presence is detected somehow with the equipment. Crystal and Niko are doing their best to distract the team and ruin as much of the footage as possible, and at least once the boys do something on purpose, maybe because someone is being a creep to the girls (and yes, they both know that Crystal and Niko are more than capable of taking care of themselves, but this way scares the asshole more and is also funnier), and then also to fuck with their readings

Anyway, it's coming to the end of the night, the problem has been identified, and whaddaya knows, of course it's in the attic where they both died. This is fine, why wouldn't it be fine. They get started, draw some (invisible, ghostly) runes and start working their magic when, of course, the paranormal investigators turn up, because this is thought to be the most 'active' area of the school, and the body of a schoolboy was found here in the 80s

Yeah, they try to contact 'any of the boys who disappeared in 1916' and Charles. It would be fine if they weren't so irritatingly loud, Edwin's trying to concentrate, and Charles is now shivering and dripping wet, but they managed to ignore the team right up until they start speculating that Charles was killed by one of the angry spirits from 1916

At which point, Charles - half visible, clearly enraged, looking very much like the half-drowned and frozen kid he was, like a proper ghost - tells them to fuck off already before they get hurt, they don't understand anything, and how dare they give a shit now when it's too late

Which is, of course, the exact moment Edwin finishes the spell, and causes some sort of a magical rebound that fritzes the cameras for a second, throws furniture around, and knocks them all flying. When the cameras start up again, they catch Edwin kneeling by Charles, holding his hand, and softly telling him that it's ok, it's over, they can go now. Charles sniffs and smiles and knocks their foreheads together and says yeah, let's get out of here, and together they fade from view

The investigators think this means gay love can pierce the veil of death and save the day that now that the truth of their story is known the ghosts have moved on, and it's all thanks to them! How beautiful, how wonderful, how affirming! Perhaps one of the boys from 1916 tried to help Charles, and when that didn't work, they both stayed to try and protect other people from these violent spirits, and now their unfinished business is finished! It's so tragic and touching story

Charles and Edwin, who are putting their tools back in the backpack, roll their eyes and smile at each other

On the way out, Charles swipes the memory cards from the cameras, Edwin inscribes a couple of sneaky runes on various pieces of equipment to fuck with it, and Crystal uses her powers to make sure they all remember a couple of details differently, so later they won't be able to agree on a bunch of stuff

The episode they were trying to make can't be released, their social media posts about the experience are full of details that don't match up, and fans are bitterly disappointed

Crystal and Niko watch the footage Charles stole with Jenny and the Night Nurse back at the agency. Jenny turns it into a drinking game. Charles does a dramatic reading of the posts with added commentary while Edwin pretends he's not laughing. They buy t-shirts of the paranormal investigators and wear them ironically. They leave anonymous comments

Just. The dead boy detectives having to work around ghost hunters, in a world where ghosts definitely, tangibly exist