#sport together is like the best thing to do with your loved ones

[mingi-s-dimples]

「 Booty Gains - S.MG 」

"This is all you’re good for, isn’t it? Bent over, dripping, begging for me to use you.”

~ "Reader teases Mingi with some booty pics and vids while she's at the gym, and he's at work, add shower sex" ~ req. by anon

pairing: mingi x fem!reader

genre: 18+, filth

summary: you just can't stop being your bratty self whenever your man is at work, all bored. so you have the best idea of sending him some booty pics, not even thinking about how he'd ruin the hell out of you when he gets home.

wc: 3.8k

warnings: rough mingi, brat reader, possessiveness, ownership, punishment kink, humiliation kink, degradation/name calling (slut, etc.), praise kink, rough sex, hair pulling, ass spanking, marking (hickeys and bites), breasts fondling, nipple playing, manhandling, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, creampie, breeding kink, lots of cummm, shower sex, brat taming, mocking, teasing, a tad bit of aftercare, completely consensual!, unprotected (boo use protection irl!!), for sure forgot something, might edit later.

Author's Note: as a gym girlie that loves going to the gym, I would 100% do this to my man (I don't have a man atm but just saying) cause the anticipation is chef’s kiss. I loved writing this !! Thank you so much, anon, for sending in such a nice request ^^

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The gym was nearly empty, just the way you liked it. The low hum of machines and the rhythmic clanking of weights filled the space, but your focus was elsewhere. Your reflection in the mirror held your attention, the sweat glistening on your skin, the curve of your body accentuated by the snug fit of your leggings and sports bra.

Mingi had texted you earlier, complaining about how bored he was at work, stuck in another useless meeting. He had no idea what you were about to do.

A wicked smirk tugged at your lips as you adjusted your phone, angling it just right to capture the dip of your waist and the teasing outline of your hips. You snapped a picture, making sure the lighting hit all the right places before sending it off.

You: Missing you. Thought you might like a little motivation to get through your day.

It didn’t take long for your phone to vibrate with his response.

Mingi: Oh, you wanna play while I’m at work?

Your stomach fluttered at his tone. Hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your leggings, you slowly tugged them down just enough to reveal the plump curve of your ass, letting the fabric cling sinfully low. No one was there, so you pulled them just slightly lower. Your full ass was on display, plump and perky. You snapped another picture, this time a little bolder, a little filthier. Send.

The typing bubble appeared immediately. Then, a pause. Then—

Mingi: You better stop while you still can.

You bit your lip, suppressing a giggle. But stopping was the last thing on your mind. Feeling particularly bratty, you propped your phone up against the mirror and recorded a short clip—hips swaying, ass jiggling just enough to tease, your fingers lightly tracing over the curve before you tugged your leggings back into place.

You sent the video without hesitation.

This time, his response came instantly.

Mingi: You're fucked.

A thrill shot straight between your thighs.

You: You love it.

The dots appeared and disappeared for a long moment before your phone buzzed again. This time, your breath hitched when you opened the message.

Mingi had sent you a picture—a low, grainy shot of his lap under his desk, his thick cock straining hard against his dark slacks, the outline painfully clear through the fabric. The sight alone made your mouth water.

Mingi: You’re gonna take care of this when I get home.

You swallowed hard, squeezing your thighs together. Just as you were about to type back, your phone lit up with an incoming call.

You answered immediately. "Hello?"

His voice was low, dark, and dripping with something dangerous. "You think you’re funny?"

You hummed innocently, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. "I don’t know what you mean."

Mingi exhaled sharply, and you could practically hear the tension in his body, the way he was probably gripping his phone too hard, jaw clenched.

"When I get home, you’re not gonna be able to sit right. You understand me?"

Your breath hitched.

"Mmm. Can’t wait."

There was a beat of silence before he let out a quiet chuckle, one that sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

The line went dead.

And now all you had to do was wait.

The moment you got home, you couldn’t shake the smug little grin playing on your lips. Kicking off your sneakers, you stretched your sore muscles, still feeling the delicious burn from your workout. Your body was buzzing, half from the endorphins, half from the anticipation of what was coming.

Padding over to your full-length mirror, you tilted your head, running your fingers along your waist, smoothing over the curve of your ass. You giggled softly, replaying the texts with Mingi in your head—the way his tone had darkened, the picture he had sent you, the promise laced in his last words.

You shivered, excitement pooling low in your stomach. You had really riled him up this time.

Shaking your head, you grabbed a towel and headed for the bathroom, stripping off your gym clothes piece by piece. The air was warm, thick with steam as you turned on the shower, stepping under the hot spray. The water cascaded down your body, soothing the ache in your muscles, washing away the sheen of sweat. Your fingers trailed idly along your skin, stomach tightening at the thought of what was coming. Your fingers also trailed right between your thighs, slowly through your folds, thinking about how good it would feel if your fingers were Mingi's cock.

There was one thing you knew, tho. Mingi was going to ruin you.

You didn’t know how much time had passed—your mind had drifted into a hazy space, caught between relaxation and anticipation—when you suddenly heard it.

Click. Your body tensed. The front door.

A thrill shot through you, setting every nerve alight. He was home.

You barely had a second to react before the sound of heavy footsteps filled the silence, growing closer, more deliberate. Your pulse pounded against your ribs as you heard a single knock on the bathroom door.

Then, before you could answer—

The door swung open.

The steam curled around him as he stepped inside, towering and dangerous, still dressed in his dark work clothes. His tie was loosened, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, revealing the smooth line of his collarbone. But it was his eyes that held you captive—dark, heavy with something primal, something feral.

You swallowed hard, heat pooling between your legs.

"Mingi—"

His lips curled into a smirk as he tugged at his belt, the leather slipping through his fingers with an unmistakable sound. "You had a lot to say and send earlier," he mused, voice low, predatory. "But now that I’m here, you’re quiet?"

Your breath hitched as he took another step forward, "Did you touch yourself while you were waiting for me? Bet you did. Bet you thought you could get off without me. That’s fucking cute.”

And before you could say another word, he was reaching for you. You were about to learn exactly what it meant to be at Mingi’s mercy.

The heat in the bathroom thickened, the steam swirling around you like a fog, but nothing compared to the fire burning in Mingi’s eyes. He stepped closer, the space between you shrinking as he dragged his belt from the loops of his slacks, the leather slipping through his fingers with a slow, deliberate motion.

"You wanted my attention, baby," he murmured, voice low and dark. The sound of his belt dropping to the tiled floor sent a shiver through you. "Now you’ve got it."

You swallowed hard, pressing your back against the cool shower wall, the contrast to the heat in your body making you dizzy.

Mingi’s hands went to the buttons of his shirt, unfastening them one by one, exposing the smooth planes of his chest, the taut lines of his stomach. He took his time, knowing exactly what he was doing, letting your eyes roam over him as he peeled the fabric from his broad shoulders and let it fall.

"You’ve been a fucking brat all day." His voice was silk and sin, smooth yet dripping with something dangerous. "Sending me pictures while I was at work—" The zipper came down in one slow drag. "—knowing damn well I couldn’t do shit about it."

Your breath hitched when he shoved his pants and boxers down in one motion, his thick cock springing free, already painfully hard.

"You’re gonna take care of this," he rasped, palming himself lazily, eyes locked onto you.

Your thighs pressed together instinctively, but Mingi didn’t miss it. He smirked, stepping under the spray, the water running down his body in rivulets, droplets clinging to the sharp edges of his muscles.

"You know what I should do?" He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with something dark, something wicked. "I should fuck you against this wall." His voice dropped lower, rougher. "Shouldn’t even let you adjust. Just spread you open and take you—"

A sharp gasp left your lips.

He chuckled, cocking a brow as he stepped even closer, the heat of his body pressing against yours. His fingers trailed along your arm, up to your throat, his grip loose but possessive.

"Bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you?" he murmured, thumb brushing against your pulse. "You’ve been dripping for me since the moment you saw that picture. Knew exactly what you were doing when you sent me those."

His free hand trailed down, fingers teasing the curve of your hip before slipping lower.

"Tell me, baby," he rasped, lips ghosting over your ear. "Are you ready to take what’s coming to you?”

A slow, teasing smile curved your lips as you met his dark gaze, your lashes fluttering just slightly. “Mmm,” you hummed, tilting your chin up defiantly. “I don’t know… I think you talk a big game, Mingi. But are you really gonna do something about it?”

His jaw ticked, and for a split second, you saw the flicker of restraint in his eyes—the thin thread of patience that you knew was about to snap.

And then it did.

With a low growl, he crushed his mouth against yours, lips claiming you in a messy, desperate kiss. His tongue swept past your lips without hesitation, hot and insistent, tasting, devouring, punishing you for every teasing word, every taunting glance. The kiss was wet, sloppy, his breath heavy as he groaned into your mouth, like he was finally letting himself have what he’d been craving all damn day.

His hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him, his cock pressing against your stomach, hot and throbbing. You moaned into his mouth, fingers curling into his damp hair, but before you could even think about deepening the kiss, he was yanking away.

“Turn around,” he ordered, voice rough, thick with impatience.

You hesitated just long enough to see the dangerous glint in his eyes before his hand shot out, curling into your wet hair. A sharp gasp left your lips as he tugged, tilting your head back just enough to arch your spine. His other hand pressed firmly against your lower back, forcing you against the cool shower wall.

“You wanna play games?” he murmured, his voice low, taunting. “Then let’s fucking play.”

A shiver ran through you, anticipation making your pulse spike. His grip tightened, holding you exactly where he wanted you, his breath hot against your shoulder. And then—

He thrust into you in one smooth, punishing motion, stretching you open without warning.

A strangled moan tore from your throat, pleasure-pain searing through your body as he filled you to the hilt, not giving you a second to adjust. The stretch was intoxicating, overwhelming, but you could feel how much he needed this—how much he had craved this moment, how much he had been holding back all fucking day.

"Fuck," Mingi growled, his fingers digging into your hips. "This is what you wanted, huh? To get fucked like a little brat who doesn’t know when to stop teasing?”

You barely managed a breathy whimper before he pulled back, only to slam into you again, harder this time, sending you onto your toes. The sound of wet skin slapping together filled the air, mixing with the steady rush of water and the filthy, wrecked noises slipping past your lips.

Mingi was relentless, his thrusts rough and unyielding, every snap of his hips a reminder of exactly why you shouldn’t have teased him. His hand fisted in your hair, keeping your back arched as he fucked into you with punishing force, his chest heaving behind you.

"This is all you’re good for, isn’t it? Bent over, dripping, begging for me to use you.”

A broken moan left your lips, and Mingi chuckled darkly.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, his grip tightening. “I’m just getting started.”

His hand tightened in your hair, tugging just enough to make your scalp tingle, your back arching deeper. His other hand splayed over your hip, fingers digging into your skin as he pounded into you, each thrust sending shocks of pleasure rippling through your body. The wet sounds of skin meeting skin filled the steamy air, each slap of his hips against your ass punctuated by his ragged breathing.

"Fuck—" Mingi groaned, voice wrecked, like he was losing himself in the feeling of you wrapped around him. "You feel so fucking good, baby. So damn tight—like you were made for me."

You whimpered, pressing your cheek against the shower wall, your knees threatening to buckle under the force of his thrusts. But Mingi wasn’t about to let you collapse—not when he was in the middle of breaking you apart.

His grip shifted, one hand leaving your hip to trail up your side, fingers brushing over your ribcage before sliding up to cup your breast. He kneaded the soft flesh roughly, thumb flicking over your hardened nipple, making you jolt under his touch.

"That’s it," he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction as he felt your body tremble beneath him. "Taking me so fucking well. "Such a messy little thing. Look at you—moaning like a whore just because I’m fucking you.”

A soft whimper left your lips, but before you could answer, his hand slapped against your ass, the sharp sting making you cry out. The impact sent a fresh wave of heat surging through your core, your walls fluttering around him as pleasure mingled with the delicious burn of his palm.

Mingi chuckled darkly, rubbing over the spot he had just smacked before delivering another sharp slap.

"Fuck—" he hissed as he felt you clench around him, his rhythm faltering for a second. "You like that, huh? Like when I put you in your place?"

"Y-yes," you gasped, barely able to form the words.

"Yeah? I bet you do," he rasped, his fingers tightening in your hair as he yanked your head back, forcing your spine to arch even deeper. "Bet you fucking love being used like this. Bent over, dripping, begging for me to ruin you."

His words sent a shudder straight through you, your body throbbing with need.

Mingi smirked, leaning in to press his lips against the shell of your ear. "You're such a good little slut for me, baby," he murmured, his tone softer now, almost sweet—but the way his hips snapped into you said otherwise. "So fucking perfect, taking everything I give you."

His teeth scraped over your shoulder before he bit down, marking you, claiming you. The pain sent a jolt of pleasure through your system, your moan spilling into the air as your nails clawed at the slick shower wall.

Mingi groaned against your skin, his hips losing their rhythm, growing rougher, more erratic.

"Mine," he growled, his hand wrapping around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. "Every fucking inch of you—mine."

Mingi could feel it—your body trembling beneath him, your walls tightening like a vice around his cock, your moans turning high-pitched and breathless. You were right there, dangling on the edge, and he was going to push you over.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his fingers tightening around your throat just enough to make your head spin. "Come for me. Show me how much you fucking love this."

His free hand dropped between your legs, fingers finding your swollen, neglected clit. The second he pressed down, rubbing harsh, tight circles, your whole body jerked, pleasure slamming into you like a tidal wave.

A sharp, broken cry tore from your throat as you came, your orgasm hitting so intensely that your legs nearly gave out. Your walls fluttered wildly around his cock, squeezing him so tight it made him curse under his breath.

"Fuck, fuck—just like that," he groaned, chasing his own high now, slamming into you with reckless, desperate thrusts. "God, you’re so fucking tight when you come—"

His grip on your hips turned bruising as he buried himself deep, his cock throbbing as his own orgasm crashed over him. His moan was low and guttural, his breath hot against your ear as he spilled inside you, filling you to the brim with his warm, silky white cum.

But Mingi wasn’t finished.

Before you could even recover, before your body could stop shaking, he pulled back slightly—then slammed back into you, deeper than before.

A strangled gasp left your lips, your body convulsing at the sudden overstimulation. "M-Mingi—!"

"Oh, baby," he cooed, mock sympathy dripping from his voice. "Too much?"

But his hips never slowed. If anything, he fucked into you harder, faster, his cock bullying past your sensitivity, rubbing against that sweet, overstimulated spot with every relentless thrust.

Your hands scrambled against the wet tile, your head spinning, pleasure too much, too sharp, your body unsure whether to pull away or press back into him.

"Mingi—! I c-can’t—"

"You can," he growled, fisting your hair tighter, forcing your back to arch even deeper. "You will."

His fingers found your clit again, rubbing it mercilessly. Your body was breaking, splintering apart under the overwhelming sensation.

"You’re gonna squirt for me," he murmured, his voice rough, commanding. "I know you can, baby. Come on—be my good girl and soak me."

Your breath hitched, everything in you coiling tighter and tighter, nerves fried, mind blank, only able to feel him—his cock pounding into you, his fingers working your clit, his grip keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

The pressure built impossibly high, and then—

You shattered.

A cry ripped from your throat, your entire body locking up as waves of white-hot pleasure crashed over you. Your walls spasmed violently around his cock, and suddenly, you were gushing, soaking his thighs, dripping down onto the shower floor as your orgasm wrecked you.

Mingi groaned, his thrusts turning wild, erratic, as he fucked you through it, milking every last drop from you. "Fuck, that's it—so fucking pretty, baby, look at you—"

Your body convulsed, twitching under him, barely able to handle the intensity of it. Tears pricked your eyes, your moans turning into soft, desperate whimpers.

But Mingi wasn’t stopping.

"One more," he panted, his grip tightening. "Give me one more, baby."

And you knew—you weren’t getting out of this until he got exactly what he wanted.

Your body was trembling—wrecked, overstimulated, barely able to keep yourself upright against the shower wall.

His hand released your hair, only for his arms to hook around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You gasped, feeling his cock still buried deep inside you, still hard, still throbbing, still demanding more.

"Mingi—" your voice came out hoarse, barely a whisper.

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, deceptively sweet, before dragging his tongue up the column of your throat, tasting the sweat and water beading on your skin. "One more, baby," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "I know you can take it."

Before you could even process his words, he was moving.

With effortless strength, he spun you around, pressing your back against the cold shower tiles. His hands gripped the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up until your legs wrapped around his waist. The new position had him sinking even deeper into you, the stretch making your head fall back against the wall with a strangled moan.

"F-fuck—" you gasped, your nails digging into his slick shoulders.

Mingi groaned, rolling his hips slowly at first, dragging his cock in and out of your oversensitive, drenched pussy, feeling every twitch, every flutter. "You’re shaking, baby," he mused, pressing soft kisses along your jaw, his tone teasing. "Is it too much?"

You could barely breathe, let alone answer, your body caught between unbearable overstimulation and insatiable need. But Mingi wasn’t going to let you recover.

His hands slid down to grip your ass, and then he snapped his hips up into you, hard and punishing, making you choke on a moan.

"Yeah?" he groaned, fucking into you mercilessly, pressing you harder against the shower wall. "That’s what I thought."

The new angle had him hitting impossibly deep, dragging against every sensitive spot inside you. His grip was bruising, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he used it to pull you down onto his cock with every brutal thrust. Your body felt like it was on fire, caught between unbearable pleasure and the sweet agony of being pushed past your limits.

"You wanted this, didn’t you?" Mingi panted, his lips trailing down your throat, his teeth grazing your skin. "Wanted me to fuck you dumb, make you cock drunk, huh—"

You whimpered, head lolling to the side as he sucked a deep mark onto your neck, his tongue flicking over the sensitive skin before biting down just enough to make you cry out.

"Such a good fucking girl," he murmured against your throat, his voice low, velvety, sending shivers straight to your core. "Taking it so well for me. Letting me use this pretty pussy however I want."

Your body clenched around him, and Mingi groaned, feeling your walls fluttering dangerously close to release again.

"You're gonna come again, aren’t you?" he rasped, pressing his forehead against yours, his pace growing wilder, more desperate. "Gonna soak me like the filthy little thing you are?"

Your thighs quivered around his waist, your entire body trembling, nerves fried, pleasure curling unbearably tight in your stomach. You were right there—on the edge of another devastating climax, so sensitive it almost hurt, but so fucking good you never wanted him to stop.

Mingi leaned in, lips brushing yours, his voice nothing but a breathless command.

"Come for me, baby."

His fingers found your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate circles, and that was it—your body shattered, a sharp, broken moan ripping from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you.

A gush of wetness flooded between your bodies again, and Mingi groaned, his hips stuttering, his cock throbbing violently as you squirted around him, soaking his abs, his thighs, dripping down between you.

"Fuck, f-fuck—" he choked, watching the way your body writhed, how you pulsed, how your head tipped back in pure, mindless pleasure. "God, that’s so fucking hot. Such a good little slut for me, making a mess like this.”

His hips snapped into you a few more times, frantic, desperate, before he buried himself to the hilt, grinding deep as he came inside you with a low, wrecked moan.

For a long moment, the only sound in the bathroom was the heavy panting of your breaths, the soft hum of the shower still running.

Mingi let his forehead rest against yours, his hands smoothing up your back, holding you close, grounding you both.

Then, after a beat, he chuckled, voice rough but laced with something undeniably fond.

"You," he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, "you are never allowed to tease me while I'm at work again.”

You smiled, “yeah, sure..” a glint of bratiness in your words.

He looked at you with dark hunger, his gaze dropping to your ruined body. “Hmm, now that I think about it, I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet. Maybe I should keep you full of me all night.”

NETWORKS: @blossomnet @illusionnet @mirohs-aurora-society

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @strawberry-mingi @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @tahiraax1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz @chai0tea @miyaluvvsyou @lezleeferguson-120 @sopematesxx

[peachyparkerr]

spring into summer | art donaldson x female! reader

or loving art even if it hurts <3

based off the song by lizzy mcalpine!

tags: yearning, fluff, angst, no use of y/n, stanford!art to atlanta!art, love "triangle", kissing and stuff, maybe not 100% true to the lyrics might even be out of order, hopefully this is not too long and not too many mistakes lol i dont want to proofread, i made my own challengers timeline because i can, challengers will always be on the mind <3

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ a/n i hope you enjoy <3 plz be kind to me

Spring into summer, and the winter's gone I try to hold on to it, but the current's too strong Somebody finds me in the state I am Love you like I mean it when I know I can't

it’s a rainy day in late february at stanford. it’s cold, the fog’s coming in thick over the trees, and it’s hard not slip on the ground. all outdoor sports practices have been canceled or moved inside, and it’s probably the worst day to not have an umbrella or a rain jacket. art’s team practice had been canceled but he still wanted to work on his serve so he decided to practice at the indoor courts, he needed to blow off steam after being around patrick and tashi so much these days. their relationship is really weighing art down these days, so getting in the practice instead of taking a break seemed like an obvious time killer, he just hadn’t realized it was pouring this much. there was no way he was going to make it all the way to his dorm without being majorly drenched, so he decides to tackle the rain for the shorter walk between the indoor courts and the library and wait it out there. he’s definitely drenched when he enters the building, and it could be worse so he accepts it. the library’s fairly empty but he can’t quite decide where he wants to sit and if he actually wanted to do any studying at all, and then he sees you.

you, who is sitting cross legged in one of the big window nooks, headphones on with a book and laptop in your lap and in front of you but long forgotten as you watch the rain fall. he's seen you around before, but knows nothing about you, but you've always caught his eye. and seeing you right now watching the rain, in your own little world, is making his heart skip a beat more than it usually does when he sees you. suddenly, however much it sucks for him to always be around his best friend and his best friend's girlfriend that he secretly has been pining for all this time doesn't even matter to him. he doesn't even know your name, not yet at least, but he decides that he needs to. his legs are moving on their own accord as he makes his way to sit opposite of you in the nook.

he doesn't say anything at first, doesn't even ask if it's okay to sit there he just does even tho there are many open spots, and after what feels like forever of just looking at you looking out the window, you finally look his way.

"hi" he manages to speak out, voice just barely over a whisper.

"hi." you say back taking off your headphones. you have a bit of a confused look on your face but otherwise friendly. he'd never even heard your voice before but he thinks it's the most wonderful thing he's ever heard.

"i'm--" he goes to introduce himself nervously, but you interrupt him.

"i know who you are, art." you point out all soft and sweet and now he's embarrassed that he doesn't know who you are.

"you do?" he's flushing and running a hand through his wet hair.

"of course i do. we had a class together last semester and this one. you're also on the tennis team, right?" you laugh and say with ease. he's even more embarrassed now that he hasn't realized that he's had class with you this whole time but doesn't know your name, but the fact you're still giving him the time of day is encouragement enough for him to not run away right now.

he asks for your name and you give it to him with a smile and shake his hand. your hand fits perfectly in his, and he thinks your name is like a melody. the conversation that strikes up between the two of you is casual and easy, and you make him laugh in a way he hasn't in awhile. you tease him for not bringing an umbrella on the rainiest day, and he shakes his wet curls in your face like a dog just so he can hear your laugh again. if he could bottle up the sound and save it forever he would. but you offer to share your umbrella since as it turns out, you don't live that far away from him, and who is he to say no?

you guys huddle under the shared umbrella as you walk through the pouring rain, your hands brushing each other, making him feel all sorts of things. he's been in love with tashi all this time even if she can't be his, but something about your smile and simple kindness has him thinking just maybe he's not doomed at love. maybe he's getting ahead of himself, but as you guys reach his place and he insists on making it up to you for sharing your umbrella, he can't help but think this could be something good. who cares about tashi and patrick anyway?

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

Hold it against me, cool to the touch Nobody knows what it's like to be us Somebody finds me in the shallow end Love you like I mean it just because I can

it starts slow. art can't quite decipher where his feelings for tashi end and where his growing ones for you begin, but he knows that he's drawn to you in a way he's never experienced before. he needed a distraction but thats not just what you are, what you're becoming to him, he thinks.

so he seeks you out more. finds a way to sit next to you in class. shares his notes with you, not that you need notes from him but he offers anyways. notices when you're feeling tired in class so he suggests getting coffee or a bite to eat after. sometimes you say yes, but other times you say no. you know he spends a lot of time with tashi duncan, star tennis player of the whole university, and sure she's dating his best friend, but you've heard the rumors. art's cute, but you don't want to get caught up in whatever that is.

but art's not just cute, he's sweet and effortlessly charming. he somehow just knows when you don't bring a drink to class and has one for you. he seeks you out in the library even though you know he's not really a scholar, and he offers to share his umbrella when its raining, which he always remembers to carry around now, even if its not raining hard, and even if he knows you have your own.

he's spending more time with you than he is with patrick and tashi. they don't really mind, even if part of them wonders what's going on with him. them not really minding has art feeling weird, because part of him still wants them to care, he wants tashi to care. but the rest of him is just glad that he's getting you to give him a chance. when it comes to you, the rest of the world seems to fade away for him.

before you even realize it, you've started to say yes to him every time he asks you to do something. you don't wait for him to seek you out in the library, you ask him to join you. you "forget" your umbrella just so you guys can share his. he takes the opportunities presented to him to shyly keep an arm around you or hold your hand, and when you don't tell him not to, he's never shy again.

the two of you are dating, even if it's not explicitly said. it's june now, and it seems like everything's really good and he's barely even thinking about tashi anymore. you're a welcome distraction but you're also everything and more to him. he wants to make you his, officially, and he's scared out of his mind to put a label on it but nothing would make him happier.

he plans this nice picnic on a rare sunny day. after indulging in some of your favorite snacks, he's laying on his back on the blanket, a baseball cap you got him on his head blocking the sun from his eyes, and you're on your stomach but resting your head on your hands on his chest, and you guys mindlessly talking about something. the sun's shining down on you so perfectly, the wind in your hair. he has no idea what you're saying at this point because he just can't stop looking at you. you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and he longs to be with you even if you weren't with him. he feels so warm inside and out when he's with you.

he moves hair out of your face and he's interrupting whatever you're saying before he even realizes what he's saying.

"do you want to be my girlfriend?" he asks suddenly, still moving hair behind your ear. this wasn't part of the plan he had in mind today but here goes nothing.

"what?" you question with a confused and disbelieving laugh. he realizes what he's asked but he doesn't take it back, just smiles at you.

"i want to be your boyfriend, so i was just wondering if you'd want to be my girlfriend. like officially." he repeats, a little shy, a little nervous, albeit anticipating what you have to say.

"hmm like officially?" you tease, sitting up a bit, but smiling at him nonetheless.

"yea, like officially." he says simply, sitting up too, and gazing at you with that stupid grin he always has when he thinks knows he's getting what he wants.

you answer him by turning the hat on his head that you got him backwards and kissing him, soft and sweet. it's not the first time, but its definitely better than all the other times. he cups your face and kisses you back slow, happily and deeply. you hold a hand over his, your touch making him melt as usual. maybe everything is going to be fine.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

Taking a picture of all the people close to us Head below the surface, almost never certain of the truth (mm) I'm always, forever, runnin' back to you (you, ooh) Runnin' back to you (ooh) Runnin' back to you

you had become a plus one to art's place in his little trio. he had made it a point to include you whenever it felt like it was something he thought would be good. patrick was kind to you and was always willing to spill art's secrets to you. tashi talked to you, was friendly enough, but it's not like you were friends outside of this. you didn't have anything in common outside of your boyfriends. you didn't need her approval, but sometimes it felt like art did. you didn't want to question it, at least not out loud. it was just weird when you would go to his matches and after talking to you he'd ask her what she thought. maybe it's 'cause you're not a tennis player. that had to be the only reason. right?

but he was glad to have you come anyways. when you'd join for hangouts he he always said he played better when you were there. with you, he could hold his head high on and off the court. he wasn't always sure of himself in life or when playing tennis, but if he was almost certain of one thing it was that his heart beat for you. he kissed you like you were the oxygen filling his lungs before every match, always running to wrap you up in his arms as soon as it was over, win or lose. he always assured you you were his good luck charm, his best girl, the most important thing to him besides tennis. and you believed him. even when sometimes it felt weird to take pictures of just him and patrick and tashi when celebrating a win. they were important to him, you understood that, you just wanted to feel important too.

patrick and tashi weren't perfect individuals or a perfect pair but they fit. when he was away you didn't think it was that weird for art and tashi to get lunch just the two of them. art would relay to you that patrick and her sometimes fought, mostly about tennis, but other stupid stuff, and lunch was just a way for him to check in on her for his best friend since he couldn't be around. it was the truth. at least what he believed it was.

but when her injury happened, and patrick and her broke up, patrick's presence in art's life disappeared too. art wouldn't explain so you didn't want to pry more. you and art were still together, but this pit in your stomach started to form the more he was there for her during this tough time. he started being late or missing plans with you because he wanted to help her get back on the court or she didn't want to go to her physical therapy but obviously needed to so he'd take her to make sure she went.

one day, you and him were sat in your room. him on your bed, you leaning against your desk, keeping a distance from him. he wanted to reach out to you and pull you into his arms, make it all go away and show you that you were the one he wanted, but he knew he'd been messing up. you guys were supposed to do stuff today, but that didn't happen because he was with her.

"she had a rough day. i just wanted to be there for her." he said, defending himself after missing yet another hangout with you. he did feel guilty. he loved you. more than he could really put into words, but this felt like something he needed to do for her.

"i get that, i was just really looking forward to our plans. and you didn't call so i was just waiting around." you explained. you weren't mad, just disappointed, again.

"i promise we can go tomorrow. just you and me, i'll make it up to you." he pleaded, standing up and grabbing your hands. "i'm sorry. it won't happen again." he rested his forehead against yours, urging you to look at him. he believed in what he was saying. he knew he was pushing you away unintentionally, and he hated it, he just didn't know how to fix it sometimes. he just hoped it would work itself out and he didn't have to lose you. after all, he always came back to you at the end of the day.

"okay, tomorrow then." you sigh out softly, squeezing your eyes shut and squeezing his hands in yours three times as if to say the three words that seem impossible to say these days. he brings your hands to his mouth to adorn each individual knuckle with a kiss, before he presses a lingering one your forehead and hugs you, trying to make it all better.

and the next day, he follows through with his promise. but something has shifted. you both can't quite put your fingers on it, but it's there hanging over your heads.

he doesn't miss any more hangouts, but the amount of hangouts that get planned decrease. it's clear that tashi's not going to play tennis again. and she probably does need someone to lean on, more than she'd like to admit. sometimes she's seeking him out, but more often than not she doesn't have to because he's going to her anyway. you can't even hate her because it's not even her fault. it's not her fault that your boyfriend would do anything for her, the way he's supposed to do for you. the way he used to.

he loves you, and you love him, but it doesn't mean love is enough. not when this is happening. he'd never break up with you first, so you have to rip off the bandage.

it's february again and its raining out when you meet him outside his room. he doesn't exactly know why you asked to come here, or why you won't come in despite how wet you guys are becoming, but he has a feeling that it's not good.

"it's over, art." you say simply to him. his heart sinks in his chest, and he feels like he's going to throw up.

"why?" he asks, even if he knows the answer. he's getting drenched by the rain, the clothes he's wearing and the hat you got him sitting on his head probably getting ruined, but at least maybe the rain will conceal how he's about to cry.

"I just...can't anymore." you sound defeated and sad. he hates everything about this. he knows he's hurt you, but he doesn't know how to fight for you either.

"i'm sorry." that is all he can say, resisting every urge to pull you close and make this right.

"me too." you sigh out before leaving.

everything about this sucks. he knows a lot of it is his own fault. but he just can't do anything about it. so he goes back inside.

by june, him and tashi are already officially dating. he wishes she was you sometimes, often wonders how you're doing. but he doesn't reach out. he wanted to be the one to tell you that him and tashi were dating, he felt guilty about it and for some reason couldn't stand the idea of letting you find out through the grapevine. but he also knows you probably wouldn't want to hear from him anyway. so he doesn't.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

You're always gonna be someone that I want (oh) We have too many years between us If I could jump into the past, I'd only change one thing I'd never hurt you first, I'd never let you leave And now I'm here forever, runnin' back to you Always

two springs and summers had passed since the spring that you broke up with art. yet there's parts of him that are still holding onto the year you spent together, to the first spring he laid eyes on you in the library. him and tashi have been together for almost all this time. she never was able to play tennis again like she used to, but she'd become more than his girlfriend, now she was his coach. she shaped him into the player he needed to be to win the high profile titles he now holds. it wasn't that they weren't happy, the whole tennis community knew them to be a rising power couple, but the dynamic was different than it was with you.

tashi was beautiful, determined, rough around the edges and strategic. everybody knew her and wanted to be lucky enough to catch a glimpse of her light. he'd stood by her in her darkest time and she'd been standing by him at every win. pushing him harder than he'd ever been pushed towards greatness. she knew he needed tennis, especially if he couldn't have you, even if he wouldn't admit it. she wanted the greatness she couldn't have for herself for him and she was grateful to be able to be part of tennis and his life in this way. so sometimes it was easier for her to pretend they could love each other the way they should. the way he loved you and the way she loved tennis and patrick.

which brings him to the atlanta open. spring on this part of the east coast was nice and art was trying to enjoy it even he's still been feeling cold. his grandmother had died a couple months ago, leaving him her engagement ring, telling him to save it for someone special. those two things were weighing on his mind pretty frequently, especially because when you'd heard the news you reached out to him to give your condolences. you didn't have to say anything, but you were always the bigger person. it was one of the few times you and him had spoken over the years since you broke up. every single time fleeting and politer than he knew had earned and god did it make him miss you.

you, him, and tashi weren't at stanford anymore so there was no reason to see each other anymore, but the passing moments of inevitable running into each other on campus were things he looked forward to. but now you're all graduated, he hadn't seen you in person in about two years and ever seeing you again seems like it would never happen. his only choice is to focus on his skill, winning this open and the next, and tashi. he just wasn't sure if tashi was the special person his grandmother was talking about.

he had actually been looking for tashi when he headed down to the hotel lobby. he could've sworn he saw her sitting by a window, across from patrick, but not really wanting to deal with that he turns his attention to the fan that's called his name to ask for his autograph. when he turns back she's gone and he decides to get a drink anyway to wash down the long day he's had. he orders and that's when he now spots you on the other end, suitcase in hand and ordering the same drink he knows you always have.

art doesn't even know how long he's been frozen in place, taking you in, until you notice him too. you smile and before either of you notice you're sitting next to each other at the bar. you're the same, but different, better, even, if that was even possible. he's always thought you were perfect. he knew he loved you for all that you were before, but he's sure now more than ever that he's never stopped.

by pure coincidence, you're passing through on a work trip and are being put up by your company in the very same hotel. the more the two of you talk he doesn't think this is coincidence, he's convinced its fate. that the universe wants the two of you to be together. when some hair falls in front of your face as you laugh, a sound he hadn't realized he's missed so much even if it's been on replay in his mind all this time, he instinctually moves it behind your ear. he's barely realized he's done it until you're looking at him all wide eyed and he pulls his hand back. suddenly you're pretending to be tired, telling him it was great to catch up and to give tashi your best, and trying to leave.

his heart drops to his stomach at the possibility of losing you again and before he can convince himself it's a bad idea, he's begging you to meet him here tomorrow after your conference and after his match.

"i don't know...what about tashi?" you voice your concern and he hates that you're hesitating but he understands.

"i have no right to ask you to do anything for me, but i promise that if you meet me tomorrow i'll figure it out. i just can't let you go like this. not again." he's pleading with you, grabbing your hand. your skin is cool to the touch but he's burning up inside at the chance to be with you again.

you don't know if you can trust him, and you're not sure if you can handle being hurt by him again, but you've always had a soft spot for him, so you agree anyway.

his heart's racing as he returns to his own room. seeing you is something straight out of a movie, and he knows he's making no sense but he'd messed up once and he rather take a risk now then hate himself for the rest of his life. when tashi returns with patrick's cologne on her skin and asking if that was me she caught a glimpse of earlier, her and art both know its over. they'll keep it out of the press and if he'll find another coach if that's what he wants. usually they'd fight each other on this but they know they can't go on like this.

the next day he waits anxiously. watching the clock tick away. it's only ten minutes after the time you agreed to meet and he's scared you're not coming. he's bouncing his leg as a coping mechanism until you're walking in. he's nearly falling out of his seat as he stands up to meet you.

"you came." he stammers out taking you in.

"i wasn't sure if i should." you admit quietly.

he nods and momentarily takes off the baseball cap he's wearing to run a hand through his hair nervously. you know it's the one you gave him in college but you don't point it out.

"i get it. but i'm glad you came."

"so...you wanted to talk?' you ask awkwardly, unsure of how to navigate this. he nods again and suggests walking outside.

it's quiet at first, even as your arms brush each other's as you walk. but he stops suddenly, turning towards you, knowing that if he doesn't say anything now he might never.

"i'm sorry. for everything. " he begins to say, you try to interrupt and tell him it's been a long time but he doesn't let you continue, needing to say this. "i need you to know that i regret everything. that it's over with tashi, that it has been long before today. i had this idea that i needed her and i could still have you and i was wrong. i never needed her and i wasted so much time thinking that when the only person who was ever it for me was you. "

art's words are earnest and the tears in his eyes match the ones in yours.

"i don't hold it against you. i just wish you would've fought for me. for us. all i've ever wanted was for you to see yourself the way i did." you sniffle out. art's always had this sincere side to him, but it's been so long since you've seen it that it's just a lot to process.

"i know and i'm sorry. i'm so goddamn sorry that it took me losing you to understand that i've never wanted anything else than to be yours. " he cries, cupping your face, his thumbs wiping the tears there away.

art realized too late that he should've fought for you. you, who was always so patient and kind and accepting of who he was in and out of tennis. you, who was soft and thoughtful in ways he didn't think he deserved and taught him you can want things and get them without being so hard on yourself. he was the one who was lucky to be in your light, and he couldn't even blame you for leaving. he just wished he hadn't pushed you away, that he wasn't simultaneously an ass and a coward for letting you slip through his fingers. but this is him fighting for you now, and he was praying to a god he wasn't sure he always believed in that this was his chance to make it right.

"if you'll have me, i want to fight for you. i'll spend everyday for the rest of my life fighting for you, proving to you that i want you, that...i love you. i can't lose you again." he's still holding your face in his hands, gazing into your eyes and hoping that you can understand just how much regret he's been holding in, that you'll say something that'll make him stop shaking right now.

you bring a hand to move some hair that is stuck to his face from under the brim of his hat. he leans into the touch as you rest your hand on his own cheek, shivering at how it feels after all this time.

"you're always going to be someone that i want." you say softly.

and that's all it takes for him to surge forward and press his lips to yours. from that point on, he never feels cold again. and by next summer, his grandmother's ring is on your finger.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

Summer is falling, it's a distant dream If I turn around, you're runnin' back to me

a/n i kinda hate this but i needed to write it! plz be kind! likes and reblogs appreciated!

[thaniabb]

I’ve been into sports car by Tate mcrae, don’t blame me by Taylor swift, and Diet Pepsi by Addison rae lately. Idk if that does anything for your inspiration in any way but 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ vibes

Love made me crazy - F.W

- ‘don’t blame me’ by taylor swift -

warnings : overprotective!fred, possessive!fred, innocent!reader, no use of y/n, pet names (butterfly, love)

summary : the older weasley twin protective nature toward his best friend, evolves into something darker and more obsessive, though she remains blissfully unaware. As Fred’s feelings for her intensify, he resorts to subtle but intense actions to keep anyone else away from her, pushing every other guy out of her life without ever speaking a word of his true nature. But Fred knows, and the lines between friendship and possessive love blur, creating a tension neither of them can escape.

AN : fucking thankful for this request, working on some more things so ya’ll shall expect that in a few days. anyways request more bb’s! not proofread.

“lord, save me, my drug is my baby”

Fred Weasley had always been the fun one. The one who made you laugh until your stomach ached, the one who was never serious, the one who seemed to bring chaos with him wherever he went. But that was just Fred, your best friend.

You had known him since you were both children, growing up together, inseparable. You had never questioned his actions, never thought twice about the way he always seemed to know exactly what you needed, when you needed it. He was Fred, your Freddie, the person you trusted with everything.

And why wouldn’t you? He was just your best friend.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Fred was still the same in a lot of ways—playful, charming, always making jokes—but there were moments, small moments, when you caught a glimpse of something deeper in his eyes. A flicker of intensity that made you feel uneasy. But you pushed it away. Fred was Fred. He was just protective, that’s all.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

It all started after a random, casual conversation you had with Jason, a boy in your year who had always been friendly with you. You were sitting at the Gryffindor table one evening, chatting about homework, when Jason, as casual as ever, leaned over and asked, “Hey, do you think you could help me with that Transfiguration essay? I’m totally stuck.”

Fred, who had been sitting beside you, was silent for a moment. You didn’t think anything of it until you saw him shift in his seat. There was something about the way he moved that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Fred was looking at Jason like he was a bug he wanted to squish.

“Transfiguration?” Fred repeated in a voice that was far too loud. “Nah, mate, she doesn’t have time for that. She’s with me right now. Isn't that right, love?”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden intensity in Fred’s voice. “Fred, I’m just helping Jason,” you said with a nervous laugh. “It’s no big deal.”

Fred didn’t take his eyes off Jason, who awkwardly shifted in his seat. “No, I’m sure she wants to help you, mate,” Fred said, his tone almost playful, but there was something dark underneath. “But she doesn’t have time right now. You’re on your own with that essay.”

Jason’s confusion was evident, and before you could apologize or explain, Fred stood up, his movement sharp. “Come on, love , let’s go,” he said, practically pulling you from your seat.

You gave a quick, apologetic look at Jason, but Fred was already steering you away, his grip tight on your arm. You didn’t think much of it at the time. Fred was always like this—always protective, always joking around. It didn’t occur to you that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t all just fun and games anymore.

You brushed it off. It was nothing.

The days that followed were similar. Every time another guy tried to approach you, Fred would appear out of nowhere, slipping between you and them with a smile that never quite reached his eyes. It was like clockwork. If you spoke to anyone else, Fred would swoop in, pushing them away without ever saying a word. If you were laughing with someone, Fred would suddenly be there, laughing louder, pulling your attention back to him.

And you, innocent as you were, thought nothing of it. Fred was just being Fred. Your best friend. Always there to protect you, always there to make you laugh. Nothing more.

But his behavior was becoming harder to ignore.

One afternoon in the common room, you were sitting near the fireplace, absorbed in a book. Fred was, as usual, lounging on the couch beside you, but today, you noticed that he was unusually tense. His leg was bouncing, his eyes flickering between you and the door.

“Is everything okay, Freddie?” you asked, looking up from your book. You noticed that he hadn’t been himself lately. He had always been carefree, but now, he seemed… on edge.

Fred glanced at you, a forced smile on his face. “Yeah, yeah. Everything’s great, butterfly. Just a little distracted, that’s all.”

You frowned, but before you could ask more, a boy from Ravenclaw, Peter, walked into the room, carrying a stack of books. You smiled and waved at him.

“Oh, hey Peter! How’s your essay going?” you called, eager to catch up with your classmate.

Peter smiled back, a little shy. “Oh, it’s going alright. I was just—”

But before he could finish, Fred was up off the couch in an instant, practically cutting him off as he threw an arm over your shoulder. “Hey, mate,” Fred said loudly, his tone casual but his eyes a little too sharp. “we were just about to grab some snacks. You know, a bit of quality time. Can’t let her get too distracted by homework, right?”

Peter blinked in confusion. “Oh, uh, okay. Sorry if I interrupted.”

“No worries, mate,” Fred said, ushering Peter away with a playful nudge. But as soon as Peter was gone, Fred’s grin faltered, his eyes turning dark as he looked at you.

“Don’t worry about him,” Fred said softly, his voice low. “He wasn’t going to keep your attention. Not like I can.”

You blinked, a slight shiver running through you at the intensity in his words. “Fred, you’re acting a little strange today. Everything alright?”

Fred smiled, but it was tight. “Of course. Nothing to worry about, butterfly. I’m just here for you. Always.”

You didn’t quite understand what he meant, but you nodded and smiled back, assuming it was nothing more than one of Fred’s usual quirks. After all, he was just Freddie, your best friend, right?

But you didn’t know. You didn’t see the way Fred’s eyes would darken every time another guy came near you. You didn’t know that, after every “innocent” interaction, Fred would slip away quietly and find the boy who had dared to speak to you, cornering him in empty hallways or behind corners, his words cold and threatening.

“Stay away from her,” Fred would whisper, his voice low and dangerous, his smile gone. “She’s mine. Don’t even think about it.”

The boys, scared and confused, would back off, retreating with nervous glances, and Fred would return to you with that same innocent smile, as if nothing had changed. As if he hadn’t just scared off anyone who might dare to take his place by your side.

And you—completely oblivious—continued to see Fred the way you always had. Your best friend. The one who had always protected you, made you laugh, and kept you safe.

But the more Fred watched you, the more obsessed he became. Every time you spoke to someone else, his heart would race, and his mind would scream. He couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t let anyone else near you.

“Don’t blame me,” he whispered to himself one night as he stared at the moon, his mind spinning with thoughts of you. “You made me crazy, butterfly. You made me this way.”

And yet, the next day, when you smiled at him, when you laughed with him, he was the same Fred you’d always known. He would never tell you. He would never let you know how much he was losing himself in this love, how much he couldn’t stand the thought of you with anyone else.

Because you were just his best friend. Right?

As time went on, you continued to brush off Fred’s strange behavior, convinced that everything was as it always had been. But Fred’s obsession was only growing stronger, and he couldn’t stop. Every time you laughed with another boy, every time you looked at someone else, he felt a pang in his chest. But he never showed it. He just continued to push everyone away, quietly, ruthlessly, until no one else dared to approach you.

And you, innocent as ever, never suspected a thing.

But deep down, Fred knew. He knew that he was falling deeper into something he couldn’t control. And in the end, it wasn’t just about being your best friend. It was about wanting to be more.

And he’d do anything to make sure no one else ever got that chance.

“don’t blame me, love made me crazy”

[hhhhleb]

just their clothes

after morning jog

sweet dreamberry toxic dreamberry pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

[harrysfolklore]

max verstappen being the perfect boyfriend: a compilation

summary: max verstappen can’t help but talk about his girlfriend whenever he cans, fans make compilation videos about it

folkie radio: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAXIEEE, it's been a minute since the last time i did a compilation blurb and this felt like the perfect occasion to bring them back, i hope you like this!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Max Verstappen, three time world champion and the best driver of his generation is known for his incredible driving skills and relentless pursuit of victory on the track.

However, behind the wheel, Max has another passion that rivals his love for racing: his girlfriend.

In every interview, press conference, and social media post, Max can't help but gush about her, seamlessly sharing stories of their life together into conversations about lap times and race strategies.

Fans quickly began doing compilation videos about all the times he mentioned his girlfriend publicly, and those gathered millions of views across social media platforms.

The most popular one was called "Max Verstappen being the perfect boyfriend: a compilation," and it began with a video of Max arriving to the paddock for media day, Red Bull's social media team filming him while he answered some rapid fire questions.

"Waffles or Pancakes? You know I used to love pancakes but I think I've had too many because my girlfriend is obsessed with making them," he said as he signed some stuff, "So I would go for Waffles at the moment, but if my girlfriend is watching this I'd say I take her pancakes every day."

The next clip was from a post qualifying interview, and of course, Max earned the pole position, the interviewer had asked him what was expecting for the race the following day.

"To win of course, that's what I'm here for," he said with so hesitation, "But I'm also looking forward to it because my girlfriend will be here, it's the first race she attends this season and I can't wait to see her in the crowd while I take on the podium."

The video moved to show Max with his teammate Sergio Perez, they were playing a game of Green Flag or Red Flag, they were asked about people who film themselves at the gym and Max immediately waved the red flag.

"I actually don't go to the gym anymore," Max added, "I get annoyed by everyone else so I just exercise at home."

"So no topless selfies, not even at home," the interviewer said.

"I don't need to impress anyone, I've got my girlfriend, so," Max shrugged.

The next clip was taken from Max's own Youtube channel, he was showing some of his preparation routine for a race, that included some neck training, checking statistics, quick meetings with his team and engineers among other things.

And of course, his girlfriend made an appearance, standing in a corner watching everything unfold. He approached her, race suit on and helmet in hand, kissed her lips gently as she caressed his arm.

"Be safe out there okay?" her voice could be faintly heard.

"Always schatje, I love you."

In the next segment, Max had just earned his second world championship and was doing a casual interview for a sports channel.

"Do you have your girlfriend now call you 'Two time world champion Max Verstappen' or just Max,"

"Definitely not the first one," Max laughed, "She'd never do that, she says she likes to keep me humble."

"Your girlfriend has a pet name for you?" the guy asked again.

"We call each other a bit different but I prefer not to say that on camera," Max laughed again, "I don't want the internet to make fun of me for being cheesy."

The next clip was from Max's streamings, he was too immersed in a game that he didn't hear his girlfriend come into the room, noticing her presence when she leaned into him.

Out of habit of keeping their privacy, he covered the camera but forgot to turn his mic off.

"Schatje I'm streaming," he said, unaware that everyone could hear him.

"Oh I'm sorry, I was going to ask if you could feed the cats but I'll do it myself," his girlfriend spoke.

"No I'll do it, just let me get off the stream,"

"Baby, there's no need," she insisted.

"I was missing you anyways, just give me a minute."

His audience couldn't see anything but they clearly heard how Max kissed his girlfriend's lips, turning his attention back to the screen, he realized that he was broadcasting their conversation to everyone.

His viewers went wild in the chat, spamming heart emojis and comments about how sweet the couple was. Max ended the stream with a laugh, addressing his fans. "Alright, you heard the boss. I gotta go feed the cats. See you all next time."

On the same note, another clip from a video for RedBull with Checo was included, they had been asked to show the most recent picture in their phones.

"Oh it's from this morning, my girlfriend with the kids," Max said, showing the picture to the camera.

"The kids?" Checo asked with a laugh.

"The cats are our kids," Max shrugged, "Jimmy and Sassy Verstappen."

A particularly touching moment was from a press conference after a difficult race. Max had finished fifth, a rare position for him given his usual dominance. When asked how he dealt with setbacks, he gave a candid response.

"It can be tough, but my girlfriend always knows how to lift my spirits. She's my biggest supporter and always finds the right words to say. Just being with her makes everything better, no matter how bad the race went."

During a clip of Max giving a tour of the Red Bull factory, he stopped at a wall covered in race-winning memorabilia. Among the trophies and champagne bottles, there was a small, framed photograph.

"This is special to me," Max pointed it out, "It's from my first win with Red Bull. But look closer..."

The camera zoomed in to show a young woman in the background of the photo, cheering in the pit lane.

"That's my girlfriend," Max said softly. "She was there for my first win, and she's been there for every one since - even if she can't always be at the track. The team knew how much that meant to me, so they made sure she was in this photo when they framed it."

In the next segment, Max was asked about his favorite off-track activity.

"I love cooking," Max grinned, "Well, more like watching my girlfriend cook. She's amazing in the kitchen, and I'm just there to taste-test everything."

The compilation included a moment during a press conference, Max addressed a question about his girlfriend facing criticism online. The question arose after she received negative comments following a public appearance with him.

"Look, it's tough sometimes," Max began, his expression turning serious. "She didn't choose this life, but she supports me through everything. It's not fair for her to get hate just because of who she's dating. If you have a problem with me that's fine but don't go after my family or my girlfriend because that is just unacceptable."

The final clip that wrapped the video us was from the FIA Prize Giving ceremony, Max received his trophy for winning the 2023 championship.

In his acceptance speech, he thanked his team, his family, and, of course, his girlfriend.

"Winning races and championships is amazing, but having someone by your side who believes in you and supports you unconditionally is truly special. To my girlfriend, thank you for being my rock and my biggest cheerleader. I love you."

The screen faded to black, showing a text that read: Max Verstappen, three time world champion and the perfect boyfriend.

[jensthwa]

we can't be friends (CS x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

San is your first love. He broke your heart and played with your feelings without even kissing you back when you two were in highschool. Now, many years later, you do your best to avoid crossing paths with him because there's just no way you could ever hate him, but there's also no way you two can be friends again. But his best friend is also one of your best friends, so there's only so much you can do to avoid San when he arranges a dinner you're forced to go to.

PAIRING: first love!choi san x afab reader.

GENRE: one shot (fluff, angst, smut)

WORD COUNT: 20k (yikes).

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, unnecesary pinning, a looot of context, bad friends :(, some arguing, tension, drinking and drunk behavior, tears, making out, description of female anatomy, oral (f reciving), fingering, love making, pet names (babe, baby), flirty seonghwa, wooyoung being a little shit again but also a genius, gyuri almost commiting a crime.

NOTES: hi everyone! this is a lenghty one, i know, but trust me when I say the context is necessary to understand what reader goes through with san. also, some of this may or may not have happened to me (have fun figuring out which part) (it's quite obvious tbh). THIS IS PART OF THE SHOW AND TELL UNIVERSE BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE, even though there's some references and characters that you can only know if you read s&t lol. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: august 06 2024.

permanent taglist: @hotteokkay, @potatomountain, @fairylover68

masterlist.

You and Choi San go way back. 

Well, it's nine years way back? You were only fourteen when you first saw him. 

He moved back to your area of the city a year after you moved from an entirely different one. You thought you knew every school secret there ever was, provided by your new best friend, Gyuri, but she didn't tell you about him at all. 

She claimed that it was because he didn't cause any stir the years they studied together before and after spending a whole first period in your eighth grade classroom with him at the back of the class, silently taking notes, you couldn't phantom why.

He was great at every subject, seemed to have a lot of popular friends and was, overall, a pretty nice guy. He was also very cute, skinny but you could tell he was the kind of guy who played a sport outside of school hours and he had a cute pair of dimples that showed everytime you scanned the classroom just to lay eyes on him. 

Choi San was a perfect boy to crush on, even a perfect guy just to have as eye candy during recess. You felt really strongly about him, not really forming a full opinion although your gut told you right away you were right. There was something about him… but you only figured that something until later, next year, starting your ninth grade. 

Gyuri and you were avid readers. Precocious girls, with minds way above your age. All your teachers praised came laced with the same compliment so you both decided that was the truth. You rejoiced in it, thinking you shared things in common with the grown ups and decided that that was the key to feeling a little superior in comparison to the rest of your classmates, who neither of you liked very much. 

Until they all decided to start dating each other and you two realized you were nothing but two kids with great imaginations and a love for school, praise and fictional men that couldn't be translated to the real world without sounding delusional and weird. 

So you decided to do something about it. And so, on a random Tuesday recess, you two scanned the crowd trying to find two boys (or a boy and a girl, because you always knew you liked girls too) worthy of your affections. One for her, one for you. Bonus points if the two of them were also best friends, of course. 

Double dates were all the buzz at the time anyways. 

Besides, only then they could understand the bond you and Gyuri had. Sisterhood like no other, nevermind Gyuri actually had an older sister and a niece at the ripe age of fifteen. 

And so when your index finger scanned the crowd and eliminated at least three potential crushes before landing on Choi San, you felt like it was meant to be. 

You see, his best friend, Jung Wooyoung, was perfect for Gyuri to crush on. He was almost as tall as she was at the time and his easy, outgoing personality was compatible with her book crush at the time as well. 

He also flirted with her on several occasions before that. 

So it was meant to be. 

Choi San, on the other hand, had never even glanced in your direction before. 

Just like your book crush did before he fell in love with the main character. 

See? Meant. To. Be. 

It was decided then that, although Choi San was not going to be your first crush ever, he was going to be the guy that motivated you to be at school for the time being, because math gets really boring after trying and failing at least ten times. 

You thought nothing of it when it felt a little forced, when you couldn't blush at all at the sight of him and you gathered that it didn't need to happen like in the books you read. You simply needed to say his name when someone asked you if you had a crush on anyone and that was enough to be in symphony with the rest of your classmates. 

Your longing glances were caught once or twice by him and you brushed the weird flip your stomach did everytime he looked away, blushing a little. You never really cared when it happened, really, knowing his crowd and your crowd (Gyuri and you) would never even cross paths in the first place. 

You two kept to yourselves and your little book unofficial book club, sitting on the floor at lunch time and cursing everyone who dared to call you weird for it. San and Wooyoung had a crowd of people at the loudest table laughing with them over stupid teen jokes and, uh, sports? You didn't even know. 

And then the unimaginable happened. 

Jung Wooyoung sat down, criss cross applesauce and everything, in front of you on a random Monday afternoon while you and Gyuri discussed the english assignment due next period. 

Gyuri was not too excited about that. 

Turns out, the only one excited to have a crush at school was you. She was very much still in the Lonely Hearts Club phase while you skipped all the way to your The Notebook phase and she was, in her own words, too afraid to admit it when you came up with your crush plan. 

You forgave her, of course, and decided to wait for her as long as needed because you were certainly not about to be an individual and have a crush on your own. 

And by the time Wooyoung smiled at you both and introduced himself to you, like you weren't in the same class for a year already, you thought your pretend crush on his best friend evaporated and joined the void superficial and fleeting interests you had. 

But then Choi San sat beside him, his knee brushing against yours in the process, and you knew you would have to issue a formal apology to your best and only friend for leaving her behind on this little thing. 

Because, oh boy, were you crushing on Choi San. 

You felt the blush rush to your cheeks and then fell silent while your friend and his friend discussed Fifty Shades of Grey for some reason you never cared enough to discover and you knew you were done for.

It was the first time seeing his dimples in full action, so close to you, so you completely stopped functioning all together. Amazing. 

When you decided to have a crush, you never took into account that you were, actually, quite shy. And he really wasn't, but you noticed that he knew when to talk and what to say and with your friend being a lot more outgoing that you were it gave you the comfort that she would speak for the both of you while you admired from the sidelines as your little duo became a group of friends you still miss deeply to this day. 

He was funny and you laughed at your jokes even though you pretended to be tired and completely worn out by the school day, resting your head on Gyuri’s shoulder and stealing glances at the boy while she kept arguing with his best friend. 

Wooyoung was popular and liked enough to have a few people sit with you later that week, people who never even knew you existed before that. They were good friends with San as well, so you tried your best to keep up with everyone until she sat down next to you one day. 

Arin was not really a bad person. She just was a bit conceited, calling herself princess type of conceited and you never really related to her even if she was nice to you to your face. She was absolutely gorgeous and, you found out with Wooyoung’s arm around your shoulder and a whisper to your ear, she had been San’s crush since they were both in elementary school. 

That would explain the sudden tension at the table when she sat down next to you, said hello to everyone, offered you a sweet she just bought from the cafeteria, and stared at San for the remainder of lunch time. 

You also noticed Wooyoung glaring at her a little and he later explained to you that he didn't really like her all that much. She loved attention and San gave her attention, so she would intentionally flirt with him to get her ego stroked in return. 

It didn't really matter how he felt about the girl, though, he didn't have to like her just because his best friend did. And when you caught her batting her eyelashes at San, you knew you didn't even stand a chance.

You tried to hide the disappointed look on your face but both Gyuri and Wooyoung looked at you while the two of them flirted endlessly for the remainder of lunch time and you figured you were doing a pretty shitty job at it. He didn't glance at you once either way, so it didn't really matter. 

Arin did but she just complimented your eyes and then started a conversation with someone across the table, her annoying sweet and fake voice making your right ear ring in disapproval. 

Either way, you ended up becoming her friend. Gyuri was not very fond of her and neither were you, but you all went to the bathroom together, did your makeup together, did school projects together and then sat everyday at lunch together with the rest of the guys who were, in one way or another, trying to get her to like them. 

Because, once again, she was a sight for sore eyes. 

It wasn't until later, in the middle of the year, that one of them did. Not Choi San, but Choi Yeonjun. 

You remember the day you found out they were together and the gut wrenching concern you felt when you found out that San was not at school that day. 

It was after summer break, you remember Wooyoung telling you that San and his family took a few more days of vacation and if you couldn't believe your eyes when you saw the new couple sharing a sweet kiss at the designated lunch table, you could only imagine how San felt the next day when he saw the same image right in front of him. 

Yeonjun was his friend, right? He knew about his crush and decided to get together with her anyways. Surely, San was devastated. 

But he wasn't. He just cheered them on and then laughed along when Yeonjun shoved his arm playfully after the hollering. 

But you saw through it. 

Your crush on San made you observant. Made you believe you knew him better than everyone else and so, after lunch, you took out your phone and pulled up the notes app. Writing a simple “are you okay?” in it and passing it to him the next second, you were surprised with yourself before you saw him frown a bit. And then he understood what you meant. 

Nodding, he passed you the phone back, before giving you a reassuring smile that you treasured in your heart and saw in your dreams. 

You didn't believe him, though, but stayed close enough to everything related to the situation to hold Arin in your arms when Yeonjun inevitably broke her heart. 

Starting your tenth year, he moved back to his city and decided to play the I thought we weren't even that serious card on her. Which was nasty, considering love it's very, very serious for a sixteen year old girl. 

By this point, you were all a little family and hanging out after school and on the weekends was not unusual, so it didn't surprise you when Arin invited you, and only you, to her house after choir practice on a Thursday. 

She lent you her older sister’s clothes to wear (because her's would never fit you. Her words, not yours) and took you to a walk in the park just to break your heart for the first time ever. 

“You know… I thought love was something I couldn't find in highschool anymore. But San it's really making an effort, you know? He's been there for me ever since Yeonjun left and… Well, I think he's going to ask me to be his girlfriend tomorrow.” 

Grasping the park bench she forced you to sit at, you only nodded and let out a shuddering breath that gave away what she was trying to figure out since earlier that day. 

“I'll say yes but only if you say it's okay to do so.” 

Arin was not really your friend, the same way Yeonjun was not really San’s friend. 

Because there's no way you would ever be okay with it. 

And yet, you tried your best to give her a smile and pretend the sound of your heart breaking didn't bring tears to your eyes “Of course it's okay. Why wouldn't it be?” 

A week later, they were officially dating. The rumors spread around like a wildfire and it took out of you with everyone calling San a nasty rebound and you doing your best to prioritize the ghost of the friendship you had with him. That whole fiasco lasted a few months. 

Months in which your friendship with everyone just grew stronger. Gyuri was still your best friend, Wooyoung was crushing on her hard and everyone knew, Arin and San were a steady couple, a new girl joined your class that year, named Yeri, and the principal assigned her to you because she thought you two would get along really well. 

“I like girls,” was like, the third thing she ever told you while you were showing her the school “I'm just telling you now because I don't plan on hiding it and you are wearing a pride pin.” 

“Oh, that's cool. I like girls too,” you smiled, looking at your pride pin “I didn't hide it either and no one gave me shit about it, so, don't worry.” 

Yeri also liked the mainstream music that you liked and soon she became a new addition to your group. And with Arin spending all of her free time with San, you, Gyuri and Yeri only grew closer and closer. You didn't have Arin’s voice in your ear telling you the million reasons she found Yeri uncool, but you saw it in her face every time the table laughed at one of Yeri’s jokes. 

And so, it went on for a while: 

Your mom driving all of you around in her car to the beach, to dinner, to the movies and letting you have mixed sleepovers at your house (meaning you, Arin, Gyuri, Wooyoung, Yeri and San) was fun and all, but it was not enough to distract yourself entirely. Everytime you glanced at the couple, that sinking feeling in your chest would appear and sulk your whole mood for, at least, fifteen minutes.  

Fifteen minutes of pretending you were okay with them before forgetting completely for an hour or so and then the cycle would repeat until you were alone staring at the ceiling and doing your best to not cry about it.

All it took was your first kiss being Yeri of all people for you to decide that it was time to retire your crush for Choi San once and for all. 

And for a while, it all went according to plan. You decided to tell Gyuri that it was okay because he was your friend first and the guy that you liked second and that you were not fourteen and desperate for love anymore, that it was time to go on with your life as if nothing really happened in the first place. 

You were hooking up with Yeri anyways, so it seemed like you were doing just fine. 

You grew closer to San as well and even though he mostly talked to you about Arin and whatever tantrum she was throwing at the time, you really started to feel some sense of normalcy within you when it came to just speaking to him. 

You no longer blushed when he made you laugh, you no longer looked at him with the longing of a past life lover and you were really happy for him because, at the end of the day, he was really happy with his relationship. 

Until winter break came around and Arin decided to give San his first heartbreak ever. 

She decided to call for a break in their relationship because she was, in his words, too overwhelmed with the amount of love and attention she was getting from him. 

Which was completely fucking insane considering the fact she forced him to save her contact as Princess Arin and all. 

So naturally, you sided with him. And she didn't take it to heart because everyone knew you liked San anyways. 

She told you the news herself through Facebook after asking you to explain to her the English assignment due next day and then she decided to tell you something you'll never understand because you no longer are on speaking terms with her: 

Princess Arin: u know i broke up with him because of u right? :) 

Princess Arin: one day I'll tell u all abt it. 

She never told you anything about it. And by then, you were starting your last year and San was your best friend who hung out with you everyday after school, calling you late at night and helping you with assignments through Skype. So you didn't really care. 

And as the day passed, you started understanding the connection they talked about in books and movies. You thought you did before, Gyuri being your eternal person in this world, but it felt so different with San. 

Different and good. Different and achy enough for you to want to keep it in your life. 

Your dynamic was friendly, sure, but it was alright. It consisted of banter and daring stares as well as laughter and soft moments you treasured till this day. 

“It's way too early to be this annoying, Choi San.” 

“Oh, you think this is me being annoying?”

You both got an hour of detention for disturbing the class that day. 

You loved it. 

But then, after almost a month of picking up the broken pieces of his heart one by one, and your mother giving him a self-help book to make him regain the confidence he lost during the breakup process, you realized that you were in love with him and there was nothing you could do about that. 

You noticed one friday afternoon, when he offered to pay for your and your mom's ice cream at the drive through, when he scrambled to get all the change he had on him to leave a tip for the person who handed you guys the sweet treat, that there was no way you didn't love him. 

And it was confusing as fuck when everyone else started to tell you he had feelings for you as well. 

“Think about it. You text each other good morning everyday” Yeri listed with her finger and you nodded “Then, you go to school, sit together and spend the rest of the day together” another nod “Then after school you either go get ice cream together or hang out for a bit with your mom while she drives him home. And after that, you get on Skype for the reminder of the afternoon and then he calls you on your house phone and you two spend the rest of the night talking before falling asleep on the line together,” she looked at you like you were insane for even denying the accusations made against San, but she continued anyway “And then it's rinse and repeat and it has been that way since… What? Three months ago?” 

You nodded again, defeated. 

“Girl, he likes you.” she sighed, annoyed and a little tired, before sitting on your lap and kissing your lips affectionately “And you're here making out with me instead of him. You really are a lost cause.”

That didn't stop you from hooking up with her until she found a girl who's heart was not reserved for someone else, though. Said girl went to a different school and was a year younger than all of you, but she looked very happy and stopped secretly kissing you in the school bathroom like a week after they met. 

And when she finally told everyone, you were really happy for her, but San not so much. 

It was the night you thought everything was about to change. The night you thought he was about to kiss you or you were about to kiss him, whatever happened first. 

Laying in your bed, facing each other in the dim light, he thought it was the biggest form of betrayal and pouted the whole time he explained to you why. 

He thought you liked her and you realized he didn't really pay attention to you after all. Not the way you did with him. 

Bless his heart. 

You didn't kiss him that night because he wouldn't shut up about you and Yeri. 

“I mean, why couldn't it be you? She clearly liked you if you two were hooking up for over a year” and when his hand came to rest on your back, under your shirt, you breath hitched enough for him to notice it but not enough for him to just don't do anything about it except trace the curve of your silhouette with the pad of his thumb “I don't understand why anyone would pass the opportunity to be with you.” 

Huh. Maybe he did have feelings for you. 

No. He's just being a great best friend. Don't take that for granted. 

But it was impossible for you not to take Yeri’s words seriously as time went on. 

You didn't want to think he was giving you mixed signals, but yet again there was that one time when you reached behind your passenger seat in your mothers car to pinch his leg playfully after he pulled on your hair a little bit from behind, only to end up holding his hand the rest of the car trip to his house. 

His fingers slowly caressing the back of your hand were just too much for you not to get everything mixed up. 

Or that other time when your school held a Woman's Day event, and your class president decided that all the boys in the class were going to give roses to the girls.

When it was your turn to get a rose, you knew no one would give you one. But Yeri stood in line and collected a rose from the bin before the class president had the opportunity to say anything else. 

“I'll take that, thank you very much.” She turned to you, smiling. San blocked her way to you a second after. 

“And just what do you think you're doing?” 

“Giving my best girl a rose, of course.” She peeked around him, giving you a wink that you could only roll your eyes to. 

San turned to you, the fondness in his eyes making you question the decision of not pretending to be sick that day. It was too much for you to handle. 

“To the back of the line, then. I already called dibs on her,” he turned to your friend, snatching the rose from her hand in one swift move “I'll take that, thank you very much.” 

He had no idea what that meant to you back then. It was true that, at school, he behaved a little differently than when you two were alone. 

He was athletic, so he had some friends that you were sure used to ask him what the fuck was he doing wasting his time with a girl like you instead of getting a new girlfriend. 

He had a family that didn't approve of yours, too. You felt it the first time you met his mom and, even though she was nice to you and your mom, you could feel the judgemental stare she gave both of you when your mom told her she was a single parent. 

San told you that it didn't really matter, that his mom didn't have to like you because you weren't her friend, you were his. 

He played with your feelings a little too well. Wanting him, adoring him and letting yourself be consumed by the thought of him loving you back was enough to keep it going. To ignore the fluttering way your heart kept beating whenever he talked to you which was all the time. 

You assumed the way he behaved with you in private was the real him. The one who didn't care about appearances or his family approval. 

The one who cared about you. 

It was dizzying and fantastic and you thought he just might've been the love of your life. 

But then he would tell you how much it hurted when he saw Arin at school and how much he missed her, the intimacy they shared before, and reality would come crashing down and setting your delusions on fire again. 

He had sex with Arin. You would never stand a chance. 

Or so you thought he did. Except when you overheard Arin speaking to her friends and that was the first time you ever got mad at Choi San.

“And, you know, me and San were never intimate like that so I wouldn't know but I think boys have no idea how to please a woman if they tried to.” 

What? 

Oh. So he lied to you. 

And you were so upset by the thought of him making up stories of their intimate time together that it didn't even cross your mind that Arin might've been lying to save face. 

So when he came back from the bathroom and sat at his usual desk in front of you, you didn't even think about his feelings when you decided to treat him like shit for lying about something so important like sex to your face. 

“Leave me alone, San! I don't want to fucking talk to you right now!” 

The hurt expression he gave you after that is one you would never be able to forget. 

But you grew to be stubborn and a little overprotective of your own feelings, so you thought him playing the part of your best friend all these months and sweet talking to you was just another one of his lies. 

“You guys not being friends right now doesn't make any fucking sense, sweetheart.” Wooyoung's tone is careful and laced with affection, but you knew he was playing the devil's advocate on behalf of San. With his arm around Gyuri’s shoulder (by that point, they were a thing for over two months) you could swear you saw him smirk when the nickname brought a scowl to your face. 

He might've been worried, but he was also a little shit. 

“You really are going to let Arin ruin what you two have?” Your best friend was, of course, on your side. But she was your best friend for a reason and her love included pointing out when you were behaving like an infant at the age of seventeen and a half. 

“You two are practically dating and you're going to let the evil ex-girlfriend get in the way? Over something you weren't even supposed to hear in the first place? Come on.” 

Again, Wooyoung was a little shit. And you were so upset about everything that you shyness couldn't even help the fury behind your reply: 

“Stop saying that! We are not practically dating, he's in love with Arin and I'm not sure I even like him like that anymore!” Getting tired of everyone and their mother (your mother) feeding your delusions, you came to the conclusion that putting a stop to your friendship with Choi San was for the best. 

And, in doing so, you ended up breaking your own heart for the second time in your life. 

But he didn't put up an easy fight at all. You remember the feeling of pure joy when he grabbed your hand on the way to the cafeteria one day, pulling you so hard you almost ended up sitting in his lap, and the way his pleading eyes begged you to listen to him one last time. 

“Us not being friends doesn't feel right, Y/N…” he said and the word he used to categorize what both of you had hurted you, but you pushed the feeling away “Please, let's not fight anymore. I don't even know what happened, but I forgive you for yelling at me and I hope you forgive me for whatever it is you think I did.” 

Of course, you forgave him the next second without thinking too much about it. And for a while, everything went back to normal. You Skyped as usual and occasionally you let your other friends join the call even though it didn't really feel like it used to before. 

The next thing you knew, your feelings were in full bloom again and when you realized it, it was too late. 

Because by then, you had already let your childhood friend, Sunhee, join a few Skype calls and by the fourth one she invited her friend, Minseo, to them as well. 

Terrible, terrible mistake. Because even through the screen, you could see that Minseo looked a lot like Arin with the added bonus that she was down to earth and cool and liked the same things San liked.

You liked the same things San liked as well, but it never seemed to matter. 

Because not even two months after you decided to stop talking to San over a lie you weren't supposed to find out in the first place and then became friends one more time, he gets together with Minseo and you're sick to your stomach all over again. 

You hated her. Not because she was, suddenly, his girlfriend (not girlfriend girlfriend, but in a friends with benefits arrangement you never even knew why he agreed on in the first place) but because suddenly she was so fucking obnoxious and didn't seem to like you either. 

Was it not painfully obvious San didn't have feelings for you? Why was she mad at you then? You literally brought them together! 

And all you got in return was her telling him she didn't feel comfortable with him having a girl best friend. That ungrateful bitch. 

He stopped calling. He stopped texting, he stopped carpooling with you and your mom after school and he stopped caring whether your math assignment was done or not. 

He stared pulling away more and more and it didn't matter how hard you tried to get him to talk to you, it seemed like he never really fucking cared about you in the first place. 

And by may that year, you didn't speak to San anymore. Granted, the only person he did speak to was Wooyoung, but even their friendship was falling apart. 

For the first time ever, San broke your heart firsthand. And it felt really, really fucking bad. 

You cried to your mom about it, she reminded you that you were nothing but a great friend to him and that, if he didn't take the time to appreciate that, that was his loss not yours. 

And she started hating him from that moment on. But you couldn't hate San, not even a little bit. 

Why would you hate him for not liking you back? For not loving you the way you loved hi— 

Your laptop closes down right in front of you and when you try to look up to find out who's responsible for interrupting your writing time, you get interrupted again. 

“Ouch! What the fuck, Gyuri?” The slap to the back of your head is quick and filled with rage. 

“What the fuck are you even writing. I can read from here, you know?” 

“I'm just laying my feelings down and— Ouch! Stop that!” You try to hit her back but she turns away quickly when your hands almost knock her coffee mug out of hers. 

“You can't possibly still have love for San, Y/N. It's been years.”

It's been four and a half, to be precise. But who's counting, right? 

“And why are you writing it in third person? You don't usually do that.” 

“I don't really know, Gyuri!” 

“I’m telling you, this celebratory dinner bullshit it's affecting you way more than it should,” she sighs, plopping down on the couch of your shared living room, and you leave your seat at the table to join her “He might not even show up. He has that thing with Kyungmi.” 

Kyungmi. 

You couldn't get to that part on your open document, but San left Minseo when he met Kyungmi at one of the frat parties they love to attend. Wooyoung told you that he said that it was love at first sight and you even met her briefly when you picked Gyuri up from the apartment he and San got when they started college together. 

She’s gorgeous and doesn't look like Arin or Minseo at all. It’s a different type of gorgeous. She's a year older than San and went to the same school as them and Gyuri. 

You think you might even like her better than him. 

You tried to be happy for San when you found out, but you two barely even speak a word to each other and you convinced yourself a while ago that you couldn't care less if he sees right through you and your fake smiles. 

You gathered, after everything happened, that San knew you liked him and took advantage of that. Unintentionally, but he did anyway. 

You sigh, resting your head on your best friend's shoulder. “It’s his best friend's celebratory dinner, though, he needs to be there.” 

Two seconds pass and then you both say it at the same time: “He’s in love.” 

And when San is in love, he has a one track mind with the name of his lover as the goal. 

You nod, but you can't help but to be insistent “It's Wooyoung's celebratory dinner, he needs to show up, right?” 

“I might not even show up, he's a pain in the ass.” She replies but you can tell her annoyance is not genuine and it makes you smile. 

Gyuri and Wooyoung broke up towards the end of your first year of college but you all stayed close friends. A one year relationship was not enough to fuck up the friendship they had and they decided to stay civil until, eventually, they became close friends again. 

To this day, you wonder why you and San couldn't rekindle your friendship when it became clear to you that you missed your friend and not the guy that you liked. 

Because San was always your friend first and your first love second. 

But it doesn't really matter anymore, because Gyuri is forcing you to shower and reminding you that you two need to keep Wooyoung on his best behavior tonight. 

“That girl he used to like before me is going, he said. I looked her up, she's single and he needs to get together with her because I can't take him whining about it anymore.” 

They keep things with each other way too civil, you think. 

“I'm telling you, if we don't show up he's going to do that thing where he gets drunk and makes a fool of himself. I can't have that, I'm on a mission.” 

“A mission to get your ex laid?” You ask, shampooing your hair. 

“A mission to get him a girlfriend so he can stop crying to me about feeling lonely.” 

“Maybe he wants you guys to—” The shower curtain opens and you see your best friend’s scowl before covering yourself up with your hands. 

“Gyuri!”

“Don't you dare say what you were about to say or I'm divorcing you.” 

You chuckle “Sure you are.”

You're left alone again with the water stream and she goes back to do her makeup “I told you back in ninth grade that we weren't a great fit and I was right. We can't get back together,” she sighs “It'll ruin everything.” 

“I doubt it will but you guys have been friends longer than you were boyfriend and girlfriend, so I'll just have to deal with my parents being divorced and civil.” 

“God, don't ever refer to us like that again— Oh! Speaking of parents,” you see her beam at her phone when you move the shower curtain to search for your towel and then she shows it to you “Mingi and Love just celebrated their one year anniversary!” 

Love being Mingi’s best friend. Gyuri talks to you about her college friend group all the time. The drama fuels your dinner conversations, you even follow a few of them on social media. 

“What does that have to do with parents?”

“They're the mom and dad of the group.” 

San is in that friend group, you can see him in the back of the picture and you recognize his apartment layout too. He's not the main focus of it but he's all you can see until you notice the couple sitting near him on the couch. 

The picture shows both of them, her in his lap and Mingi looking at her with stars in his eyes. 

Good for them. 

“Is that the girl he was friends with forever before they finally realized that they were in love?” 

“Yeah,” she sighs in contempt, looking down at the picture again “I was there the day it happened. I mean, not physically with them, but they left Yunho's party together and I told Wooyoung that it was finally about to happen!”

Gyuri is not a romantic person at all. Her excitement shows you that she really loves them and so you soften at the news that would usually give you and your dry love life a headache “It was the day before you called me to get you out of that awful date.” 

Ah, that also happened back then. You shudder at the memory.

“Tell them I say congrats, babe.” 

“I'm bringing you as my plus one.” 

You laugh, confused “To where?” 

“Their wedding, duh.” 

“They practically just got together,” you remind her, a year is not enough time to propose “And I don't really know them, Gyuri!” 

“They love you,” she assures you as you step out of the shower “I have been speaking about your antisocial ass for years. They can't wait to meet you.” 

“So you've been shit talking behind my back for years? Is that what I'm hearing?” 

She laughs “No, babe, that's Wooyoung's job.” 

Clearing your throat and looking at your friend through the mirror, you try to be as nonchalant as you can when you ask: “Has he… Did he tell you if…” 

“No, Y/N, I have no clue if San is going or not and Wooyoung is actually mad at him at the moment.” 

“Why?” 

She looks at you, sighing “He's been lacking as a friend lately.” 

“Hm.” 

“I hope you're not planning on swooning if you see him. Fuck him, Y/N.” 

“I know…” 

“And by fuck him I mean he doesn't deserve you or your forgiveness.” 

“He didn't do anything to me, Gyuri,” you remind her, shrugging “Not reciprocating my feelings is not a crime so I don't have to forgive him for anything.” 

You can practically feel her starting the San hate train engine, so you step out of the bathroom but her voice follows you. 

“And what about that time he ditched you for Minseo when you asked him to go with you to that medical appointment, huh?” 

“Cut it out, Gyuri…” 

But her head peaks around the corner, into the hall where you're rushing towards your room “Or that time when—” 

“Can't hear you!” Turning to look at her, she gives you an affectionate middle finger and heads back to the bathroom.

Closing the door, you lean into the thin wood and sigh, getting San’s face out of your mind so you can focus on getting ready and actually show up for Wooyoung and Wooyoung only. 

He just got a permanent position after completing his internship at a company that's your company's rival. He's going to crush you and steal clients from you but you are genuinely so happy for him. 

You should've guessed he enjoyed books as much as you did back in highschool. The debates he used to have with Gyuri were not all about flirting with her but also because he has a passion for books. 

And now he's going to work in the same field as you.

You're so proud of your friend. 

As you get ready, you remember the excitement cruising through your body when your boss trusted you enough to give you the first manuscript of a new client so you could edit it. You're sure Wooyoung is going to do better than you, taking into account that he actually went to college for this. 

You didn't. 

You met your boss at the part-time job you got in senior year, when you were trying to distract yourself from all the pain and the horrors of becoming a grown up. She was chatty, got a little too drunk on soju and told you she was starting her own book publishing company. 

When she returned months later after remembering that you told her you loved books and would love to work for as a publisher one day, she offered you a job in her company right after graduating highschool. 

You took it because you didn't think an opportunity like this would show up ever again. 

She was truly a blessing, the kind of person you never really believed in until she taught you all you needed to know about publishing and editing and encouraged you to take online classes during the nights so you could get, at least, a certification on what you do. 

You're proud of yourself too. The opportunity found you in a specific moment of your life where both your heart and your self esteem were destroyed and now you're not the person you used to be. 

Maybe that's why the possibility of facing San makes you so nervous. Collective memories are dangerous because the details never match the ones on the other person's head. 

You know who you were back then but… Are you the same person in San’s head? 

You don't even want to find out. 

Scanning your outfit in the mirror for the last time, you take the shoes you're wearing tonight out of your closet and walk over to the living room. 

Only to find Gyuri laying on the carpet under the coffee table, half dressed and on her phone. 

“You're going to mess up your hair.” 

“I don't care, I'm not going.” 

Sighing, you sit down on the couch and staring at the wood of the table covering her face. 

“What happened now?” 

“The bitch canceled!” 

“Wooyoung?” 

Poking her head out, she frowns at you “No, his first love.” 

“You were his first love.” 

“You know what I'm talking about, Y/N!” 

Laughing at her, you offer her your hand “Get dressed. Who cares if she's not going? He's not going to sulk because he's going to have you and his best friends there.” 

She whines like a child when you pull her up from the floor “I had a plan!” 

“Then make a new one, babe. We're going to be late.” 

She starts to whine again but then stops mid-groan to give you a once over. You shift uncomfortably on your feet, suddenly self-conscious about your appearance for the first time in years. 

“You look really hot…” she tells you and you fake gag at her words “Really pretty. Like a fairy and a smoke show at the same time.” 

You can't possibly look like that when you have such a simple outfit on, floor length high waist black pants and a flowy sleeve top that ties in the middle. It's barely formal but now you're thinking too hard about it. 

Blushing, you wave your hand to dismiss her compliment “Oh, my god. Go and change!” 

She rushes to her room on the opposite end of the hall and you finally breathe, looking down at your choice of fit and wondering if it's too much. 

Gyuri would've told you if that's the case, but either way it haunts your mind in the car on the way there, leg bouncing up and down under your best friend's judging gaze that only softens when you pout at her. 

“They are going to love you, babe. I'm so serious, they've been waiting years to meet you.” 

You nod because, yes, you're concerned that her friend group is not all as welcoming as she paints them to be. 

And you wish your doubts would go away but you're really, really not good at making friends. You're cautious, extremely closed off to new people and not as good with conversation no matter how much confidence you gained over the past years. 

When you walk to the loudest table at the laid back restaurant their friend Seonghwa made the reservation at, you think you won't be able to fit in with everyone else. You feel like an intruder, like Gyuri is supposed to enjoy this part of her life without you here. 

That's why you rejected every invitation they ever made. 

You celebrate birthdays with her, with Woo as well, but it's all very intimate and separate from their social circle, the one that includes the man you haven't fully faced in years. 

But you can't exactly back out now, not when one of them turns to you and seems to light up when they see you. 

“Oh? Is this her?” you recognize Hongjoong from pictures, he's the only one facing you when you approach the table, lowkey hiding behind Gyuri like a child. 

“Who?” 

“Huh?”

San is nowhere to be seen. Thank god. 

Slowly, everyone turns around and you see their faces light up with both delight and surprise. Your heart is pounding, you feel it in your throat, in your eyes, in the heat that colors your cheeks. 

But Gyuri just steps aside and presents you with a smile “This is her!” 

“Oh, Y/N!” Wooyoung gets up, rushing towards you and crashing into your frame with a crushing hug “I'm so glad you're here,” he murmurs into your hair and then turns to his friends, quiet them down “Everyone, this is Y/N, one of my best friends in the entire world.” 

He's such a dramatic human being.

You love him so much. 

Raising your hand, you shyly wave at them “Hi.” 

The entire table erupts with joy. Some of them greet you, some of them are saying that they are happy to be finally meeting you and Wooyoung grabs your arm and plops you down into the seat next to Gyuri, at the edge of the table. 

Laughing, you apologize for not meeting them sooner and then you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders. 

Panic raising, you quickly turn around to see who it is before releasing a shuddering, but calmer, breath. 

“She's a very busy woman, guys. She works for the competition, my competition,” everyone gasps at that but Wooyoung is smiling at you “and she's very good at what she does. Which means she's busy, get off her case,” he puts a glass and a can of beer in front of you “Drink, babe.” 

“Thanks, babe.” You whisper back and he leans in to peck your head before going away. 

Gyuri groans “Stop stealing that from us! It's our thing, Y/N, don't indulge him.” 

“It's his celebratory dinner…” you argue with a laugh that Hongjoong and Mingi follow. 

“Yeah! Can you get off my case tonight, Gyuri?” 

She huffs, wrapping her arms around you “I hate you all.” 

“No you don't!” 

The table laughs and everyone returns to their individual conversations when Woo sits down on his spot. 

There's a few seats left, one besides Mingi and one right in front of you but you don't think too much about it because soon Gyuri gets up to ask Yeosang something and Seonghwa occupies her seat right beside you. 

You think he can sense that you're more shy than you let on, because he doesn't include you in whatever he and Yunho were talking about and waits until he stops talking to him to turn to you. 

“So, you work for a publishing company?” 

The question catches you off guard and you swallow the beer quickly before nodding “Y-yeah, I… Yeah.” 

He chuckles “You're nervous.” 

“I'm just not as good at meeting people as Gyuri is. She usually does the job and I tag along.” 

“I feel like I know you already, though.” He says, leaning back on his chair. 

“Because she talks a lot about me?” he nods “Yeah, she tends to do that.” 

“Wooyoung also talks a lot about you, San too… Sometimes,” your cheeks heat up and he misinterprets what it means “All good things, I promise.” 

You doubt that. 

Your brain gives you a hundred and one possible things San could've said about you. 

For some reason, none of them are good. But you choose to believe the gorgeous, long haired guy in front of you. 

“Well that's good to hear,” you take another sip of your drink before smiling at him “I was sure Woo was trash talking about me.” 

He shakes his head with a smile “He wouldn't dare, he has Gyuri on his ass all the time and I'm sure she would kill him.” 

“I'm sure she would kill him even if he didn't do it.” 

His smile grows wider “That's true,” he says, looking over at them who are, very coincidentally, fighting about something. You let out a sigh and he laughs again before clearing his throat “So, the publishing company. What kind of books do you like to edit the most?” 

Your smile grows wider too. 

For the next hour, you talk to Seonghwa about your job and how you started in it. He asks you about your classes and the challenges that you face on a daily basis and Wooyoung overhears and ends up joining the conversation as well.

You don't even hear footsteps nearing until a voice cuts everyone off. 

“I'm sorry I'm late!” 

“Baby!” Mingi gets up from his seat, but no one else does so he's stuck between the table and his girlfriend. 

“Oh, that's Love, huh?” you ask Seonghwa, Wooyoung too entertained messing with the couple to hear you anyways. 

“Yeah… Is that how Gyuri refers to her?” He frowns.

“Mhm,” you answer, leaning into him like you're about to tell him an important secret “I'm not supposed to call her that, don't tell her.” 

Seonghwa leans in too, pretending to zip his mouth shut and you laugh. 

The girl wiggles her way into the seat reserved for her and everyone lets out a groan when they smooch each other. You can only giggle and the sound draws her attention to you “Y/N?” 

You quickly nod “Yeah, hi, nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you! Finally, I thought Wooyoung and Gyuri had an imaginary friend,” you laugh, shrugging at the joke “Love your outfit, by the way, are those— Oh, San, hi— Are those jellyfish?” 

You want to answer. You truly do, the yes right at the tip of your tongue, but words leave you when you turn your head around and find San already looking at you with wide eyes.

He looks great, he's a bit more muscular than what the pictures show and than the last time that you saw him, his arms hugging the fabric of the dress shirt he's wearing like it was tailored for him and everything. 

How dare he. 

You wonder if his heart is beating as loud as yours is right now. If he's surprised, disappointed or happy to see you at all. 

“Her favorite animal.” He answers for you “Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi…” you whisper back and it feels like you're in a trance. He doesn't look away but the table quieting down once again snaps you out of it and you turn to the girl with a wide smile that you hope conceals whatever the fuck you're feeling at the moment “I love jellyfishes. Had a phase as a child when I would exclusively talk about them, too,” you chuckle, nervously, reaching for your earrings instinctively “Gyuri gave them to me as a present last Christmas.” 

You definitely overshared just now. From the corner of your eye you catch your best friend getting ready to step in if needed. 

Love looks at you, then at San (who's just standing next to you without uttering a word) and then back at you again, smiling like she just figured something out “Well, I love them.” 

“Thanks…” 

Coughing unnecessarily loud, Wooyoung gets up from his seat “You're late.” 

It takes a second but San tears his gaze away from you to look at his best friend and you take the opportunity to chug down the rest of your beer “Sorry, something came up.” 

Seonghwa turns at that and looks at him as well “You good?” 

“I am. Did you guys already eat? I'm starving.” 

“Nope. We're about to order. Let me get you a drink, come here.” And just like that, he disappears from your view and you almost sigh in relief. 

“Are you good?” Seonghwa asks you next and you reckon he's very observant. But then again, you're not the most gracious human being when you're in San’s presence, so, you figure everyone else noticed your change of mood as well. 

“Yeah, I just… I haven't seen him in a while and I didn't think he was coming. I was surprised, that's all.” 

“I can see that,” his eyes move around your face for some reason, frowning a little bit but then he seems to let it go, getting the menu closer to you “Okay, good, um… I actually made the reservation here because they have the best samgyeopsal in town.”  

“Do they?” 

“Mhm, so…” 

He helps you pick your food and when it's time to order, he moves back to his seat. Gyuri asks you with her eyes if you're okay, you nod and grab her hand under the table with a tiny smile and then everyone is moving around to make space for San and Woo once they return. 

He doesn't sit in front of you. 

Relief floods you and you can finally feel your muscles relax as he is so far away, at the other end of the table and in the same row of seats, so you don't really see him unless you really try. 

Which you don't, so your food goes down easy and the rest of the night as well.

Until everyone but you and Seonghwa move around their seats and he ends up right in your point of view as you do your best to ignore him and focus on his friend. 

Seonghwa asks you about your hobbies, you tell him that you love to write movie essays on websites no one even cares to read and he asks you to show it to him so he can look it up when he gets home.

“And you've always done this? Since highschool?” 

You nod and he beams “I read like the first three lines and it looks really good, Y/N. Is that why you love books so much? Because you're a writer?” 

“I wouldn't consider myself a writer but… Sure, I love to write.” 

“Did you know this?” he turns to San and your smile drops a little. 

“Know what?” 

“Your friend is an excellent writer.” 

“Oh, I know. She, uh… Used to write stories on her notebook instead of paying attention in math class,” he sips on his drink and at the detail you didn't know he knew, you turn to him fully “I used to read over her shoulder sometimes.” 

“She's really good.” Seonghwa is looking at your phone, still reading “Really smart, too.” 

San’s jaw tenses a little and you can't understand why “I know.” He says again. 

His friend is none the wiser, blocking your phone and returning it to you “I like it,” he says, smiling and you blush “The essay.” He clarifies after a second, prompting a laugh out of you that he joins. 

San doesn't laugh, but you don't pay attention to him because Seonghwa is asking you something else. 

When it's time to leave the restaurant, Wooyoung suggests going back to his apartment to milk the get-together as much as you all can.

You all throw your napkins at him in feign disgust at the choice of words but you all accept his proposal either way. 

So now you're sitting on the couch, legs crossed and head on Gyuri’s shoulder while you listen to all of them talk (more like argue) about something that happened at their university last week, their voices drowning the soft music playing out of the tiny speaker resting on the counter. 

San is on the floor, to your right. It's hard to keep your eyes off him when you feel him looking at you when you close your eyes and let the noise fade into the background. It's not like you're able to add something to the conversation anyway and Gyuri seems to be drinking her sorrows (not being able to hook Woo up with the girl she told you about) away. 

Your best friend is slurring her words already, drink in hand and index finger pointing at Jongho accusatively because, apparently, the fight they're talking about was his fault. 

“You don't—” she hiccups “You don't even know why it was your fault and it pisses me off even more, you know?” 

“Okay, let me take that.” Taking the drink from her hand and before she starts complaining you stand up to make your way into the kitchen. 

The sink is full and a mess, so you pour the liquid into it and leave the glass sitting right beside it. Distracted by the dilemma of helping Woo out with the dishes or not, you don't notice someone else also entering the space.

That's why you jump a little when you turn and catch Seonghwa leaning on the wall by the entrance. It startles you enough to laugh the nerves out afterwards and he shakes his head, smiling. 

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. They're boring me to death with the fight story.” 

You nod, realizing that maybe that's because he doesn't attend the university anymore. He told you he graduated last year “They're too drunk to let it go.” 

“Too drunk to dance to this amazing song, too. Who's playlist is that?” he frowns and you rest your back into the sink, rolling your eyes because he's pretending he doesn't know “Oh! Right, it's mine.” 

“And they just don't know how to appreciate it, huh?” he shrugs and you click your tongue “They're such bad friends, Seonghwa, I truly don't know why you keep them around.” 

“You appreciate it,” it's your turn to frown and he leaves his spot at the wall to walk towards you “You were singing along to it,” he explains and you let out an ah, nodding as he extends his palm to you, clearly inviting you to dance. 

“Oh, I don't… I don't really know how to—” 

“I'll show you.” 

His kind eyes are asking you to trust him. You really, really shouldn't. 

No matter how hard you try to bury the hopeless romantic little girl who decided to have a crush on a guy back in ninth grade, she's still there, begging you to let loose and live a little. 

When you grab Seonghwa’s hand, you think the smile he gives you was worth listening to her. 

You can't even tell the song that's softly playing anymore, a mellow r&b melody reaches your ear but you are not listening. You're focused on him, on the way he spins you around even if it doesn't fit the bit, on the way he laughs softly against your ear when he pulls you close by your hand and then pulls away just as quickly. 

Laughing as well, the spell of this beautiful stranger (because you remind yourself you don't really know him that well) is hard to break. 

Until it does. 

Someone clearing their throat behind you stops you and Seonghwa's feet from moving any further. When the tall, older guy turns you around, you're face to face with San and his scowl. 

“Sorry to interrupt but I need to get started on the dishes. Everyone else is heading out too,” he looks behind you, at the man who's still standing close to you and grabbing your hand “In case you want to ask Mingi for a ride.” 

“They finally stopped fighting!” he fakes excitement, finally letting go of your hand and walking in front of you, blocking San with his body. You chuckle, barely clapping your hands to join the pretense as he's pulling up his phone “Can I ask for your number, Y/N?” 

Blinking a few times, you're not sure if your heart speeds up because he's asking or because you hear San sigh exasperated behind him “S-sure.” 

When you put your information on his phone, he bids you goodbye with a pat on your head and hugs San on his way out the kitchen. 

Now that you two are alone, you suddenly want to run and join Seonghwa. You were doing so, so well. 

Avoiding San like the plague it's much easier when you're safe hiding behind your two best friends. 

Ignoring his stare would be much easier if you weren't stuck into place. 

“I—” 

“You—” 

You both speak over each other and you force out an uncomfortable laugh that he doesn't return. Instead, he motions you to go first while he occupies the space in front of the sink, turning the faucet on. In doing so, he has to grab your waist and move you out of the way which makes you short circuit for a second “I was going to help you with that.” You finally stammer out. 

He lets out what you take as an annoyed chuckle. 

“You seemed busy, I don't know how you would've done it.” 

Ouch. 

Why do you allow his words to cut so deep when you stopped caring about what he does a long time ago? 

The band aid rips, the stitches come undone and all it took him were five seconds to melt your resolve away like it was never there in the first place. 

“I'll… I go get Gyuri so we can leave Woo and you to get to it, then.” 

“Bathroom.” You hear him mutter under his breath as you are taking the final step to leave. 

“Huh?” 

“She's in the bathroom, probably puking her breakfast out,” he looks up at you to give you a tiny smile “You left her alone with Jongho and Woo for five minutes so she got ahold of another drink.” 

“God damnit.” 

Rushing out, you run into everyone else at the door and Mingi has to let go of his very intoxicated girlfriend when she reaches you to give you a hug “Don't be a stranger, Y/N! It was lovely to be around you, hm?” 

The sudden physical contact almost makes you gasp but you cover it up with a shy giggle “O-oh. Yeah, um, lovely to meet you too. All of you.” 

“Sorry about that,” her boyfriend grabs her arms and breaks the hug “She's right, though. Don't be a stranger.” 

You nod once, smiling a little more sincerely now and everyone says bye to you, including Seonghwa, who grabs your hand one last time and gives it a squeeze before closing the front door of the apartment. 

You think you feel your heart skip a tiny bit under all the shit San’s words pulled up to the surface a minute ago. But there's no time to dwell in that: you hear Gyuri opening up the bathroom door before gagging and closing it again with a slam. 

Jesus Christ. 

You two are really getting old. You stopped drinking like an hour ago, when you were starting to feel tipsy after your second beer, and you know she didn't drink as much as she used to maybe four years ago, but the visage that welcomes you when you open the door and find her crouched down in front of the toilet certainly brings back memories of those times. 

“I left you alone for like… five minutes.” Sighing, you lean in to hold her flimsy ponytail and pat her back. 

“I'm good,” she gags again and then holds up her hand to stop you from saying anything else “I'm fine.” 

Smiling, you help her up and she grabs the counter as she's washing away the taste of whatever she ate earlier today and alcohol “Me when I lie…”

“Y/N!” she hits your arm but the movement somehow almost makes her trip. 

“You want to lay down?” 

“Is she okay?” Woo’s head peaks into the bathroom and when he sees his ex, he makes a face. 

“Does she look like she's okay?” you help her out of the bathroom and start heading for Wooyoung's room. 

“Wow, wow— Where do you think you're taking her?” 

“To your room, dumbass!”

“Why mine? San's is literally right there.” He whines, pointing at the door you pass by without a second thought. You don't want to know where his room is or what it looks like at all. 

“Yeah, well, did San get her this drunk?” 

“How was I supposed to know that she was at her almost black-out phase? She never drinks that much in front of me!” he complains again but you're already tugging Gyuri in, who mumbles something incoherent and then flips Wooyoung off “Na Gyuri if you puke on my bed I swear to God!” 

If you didn't know Wooyoung so much, the whining and the attitude would probably make you think he didn't care for her at all. But he's brushing her hair out of her forehead, securing the blanket around her and moving to take her socks off when you reach the door. 

“I'm guessing you're okay with her staying the night?” 

“Of course you guys can stay the night, Y/N.” He says and he stumbles a little to get to you, so you smile and shake your head, about to let him know that you're not staying anywhere near his roommate when he continues “You can come over whenever you like. You know that, right?” 

“I know, Woo.” 

“I barely even see you these days, I… Oh! I forgot!” he points to the end of the hall, towards the kitchen “You guys don't really like each other so maybe don't come over when he's here because I don't want to see you sad!” 

“Lower your voice,” you whisper to him, bringing a hand to his face and patting his cheek a few times to wake him up “Did the alcohol suddenly hit you or something?” you sigh for the umpteenth time “Anyways, you should lay down and I'll get going. I'll come pick her up tomorrow and—” 

“That's such a great idea! Oh, I'm a genius.” 

“You didn't come up with it, Wooyoung.”

“San!” he calls all of the sudden and you wish he was sober enough to read the panic on your features. He seems much, much sober when his best friend starts walking down the hall and stops right beside you “Take Y/N home, please, she's going to give you a bag that you must protect with your life.” 

Said best friend looks at you, his eyebrow arched in a silent question “Gyuri’s stuff.” 

“Ah.”

“Go, go. It's getting late, I'll just… I'll cuddle with my ex until you get home.” 

And she has the nerve to say he doesn't want her back. 

When the door to Wooyoung's room closes and you're left with San on the poorly lit hallway, you make a mental note to never step foot on this place or allow your friends to drink ever again. 

You don't even look at the guy before practically running down the hallway and reaching for your bag. You make sure your phone is secured in your pocket as you slip your shoes on and soon you're grabbing the front door knob and twisting it. 

Keys jingle next to you but, again, you don't spare San a glance. 

“So—” 

“I'll get out of your hair, you don't have to… walk me home or whatever he said.” 

“Y/N, it's late.” 

Turning to him, your smile is as fake as the ones you've been giving him the past couple of years “And I'm a grown up, San, I can walk myself home.” 

“What about Gyuri’s stuff?” 

“She can wear Wooyoung's clothes, it's not like they never shared before. Anyway… Thank you for having me, it was nice to see you. Goodnight.” Your response comes out fast and it sounds as planned out as it actually is, kinda robotic and devoid of actual emotion. 

San can't see through you the way you see through him. It's okay, he won't mind it. 

He probably won't mind that you close his own door on his face either. 

If that door is what you hear when you're making your way down the stairs in order to make a fast escape, you choose to ignore it. 

You have to stop mid-way to compose yourself. You don't know why you feel like crying or why your heart is beating so fast. 

You knew going in that there was a possibility of seeing him tonight. You know how San affects you, so effortless and seemingly like no time has passed at all in between senior year and present day. 

You know all of this already, it's an endless loop that will keep repeating until you either move away or decide to stop agreeing to Wooyoung's plans all together. 

So why is your chest heaving with emotion? Why is nostalgia playing mind tricks with you? Why do you want to turn back and hug him and beg him to turn back time so you can do it all differently now that you know how to look like and what to say to make him love you back? 

Ah, you're definitely not sleeping tonight. So you start distracting yourself while walking down the stairs again. You remind yourself to tell a much sober Wooyoung how proud you are of him. You think about Seonghwa, about his kind eyes and the way he grabbed your hand to dance with him just half an hour ago. You wonder how long it will take you to get home if you jog all the way there. You—

Why the fuck is San outside when you get there? 

In a comedic way, you can see your attempt to distract your mind off of him slipping through your fingers and evaporating in the warm summer night breeze. 

In a realistic way, you're fucking pissed at him for taking the opportunity of a good night sleep away from you. 

You pass him and start jogging like you planned a minute ago. Footsteps follow you until his arm brushes yours and you take a step to the side to stop it from happening again. 

“Go home, Choi San.” 

“Stop fighting it, Y/N. I'm walking you home.” 

“It's a twenty minute walk—” 

“Drop it.” 

You do. And for the first ten minutes, no one utters a word even if the tension feels electric and the street is so quiet so you can hear when his breath accelerates when he jogs to catch up to you whenever you try to leave him behind. 

Isn't that ironic. He was the one who left you behind all those years ago. 

“I didn't know that you danced.” 

He breaks the uncomfortable but safe silence to say that? 

“Well, you saw me dance so I clearly dance when I want to.” 

“You never danced with me.” 

“You never asked me to.” 

He laughs “I'm pretty sure I did on several occasions, Y/N.” 

“Well, you're wrong,” you're getting annoyed. How dare he think he remembers better than you? “It doesn't matter anyway, what's past is past and—” 

“You also gave Hwa your number,” he interrupts, his long legs taking two strides to get in front of you, still walking, facing your direction with his hands on his pockets. 

It's dangerous and stupid, even if the streets are practically empty and the sidewalk barely has any bumps. 

You hope he falls on his pretty face.

“I did.* 

“I don't have your number.” 

“Well, I changed it and you never asked for it, so…” 

“You could've called me or texted me to let me know you did it.” 

He's getting on your nerves.

“San,” you start, taking in a deep breath you hope calms you down “We don't even text anymore, why would you want my number?” 

“Do you like him?” 

“Seonghwa?” you ask, frowning and he nods “Like… As a person?” 

“As a potential love interest.” He clarifies matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes. 

“I met him today, San. Why do you want my number?” 

“Because we're friends?” he offers after a second, shifting so he's walking by your side again. 

“Are we?” you ask, laughing bitterly at that “Because we haven't spoken a word to each other in years.” 

“That's not true.” 

“It is, San.” 

“You… You don't speak to me anymore, so…” 

“Well your girlfriend at the time told me she didn't feel comfortable with me speaking to you anymore,” you sigh “so I didn't and you didn't try to talk to me either.” 

“Well, I want to talk to you now.” 

“And is your new girlfriend aware of that? Is she comfortable with that? Because I don't want anyone telling me what to do anymore and—” 

“Why wouldn't she be comfortable? We're friends, Y/N.” 

“Are we?” you insist, petty, bitter and overall very, very hurt. 

He looks offended at that “I assumed we were?” 

He's getting on your fucking nerves. 

“We stopped being friends the second Minseo asked me to stay away from you because she didn't like me, San.” 

“She’s not in my life anymore—” 

The words are coming out of your mouth without even thinking it through. His demeanor, the way he's somehow reproaching you for whatever he saw between you and his friend, the way he pretends nothing happened between you and him, thinking that you two are still friends. 

“We stopped being friends when you pulled away from me, saw me do the same and did nothing to stop it from happening, San.” 

He stops in his tracks at that. You don't, pushing forward and quickening your step even if your calves burn. 

“Either way,” you speak up “Make sure you tell your girlfriend about wanting my number and then you can ask Seonghwa for it if you want—” 

“She's not my girlfriend anymore!” 

Now that stops you, just a few buildings down from yours, you turn around just to find San closer that you thought he'll be.

“O-oh. I… I didn't know that. I'm sorry.” 

“You didn't do anything to be sorry for.” 

“Still, it must suck so I'm sorry you're going through that.” 

“We didn't want the same things and so we ended it. It is what it is.” 

You nod. 

He walks the few steps separating you and you have to raise your chin a little to look him in the eye for the first time since you left his apartment “I wanted to tell you.” 

“That you broke up with your girlfriend?” 

“Yeah, I don't know why. It happened when I broke up with Minseo too, I just… You're the first person that I thought of calling when it happened. I texted you, too, but the messages didn't go through.” 

You hum at that. 

Why would he even say that? 

You resume your step, not really knowing what to say until you reach the stairs that lead to your building’s entrance. 

“And you didn't ask Woo for my number?” 

He follows you up. 

“I don't think he would've given it to me if I asked.” 

That sounds like an excuse, so you don't let it slide as you enter the code to your building and let yourself inside, San holding the door so he can get in as well “Why would he do that?” 

“Because he…” San sighs, pressing the elevator button “Nevermind. He just wouldn't.”

Frowning, you turn to him “No, now you have to tell me.” 

“It doesn't matter, really—” 

“Tell me, San.” 

He stares for a second and then looks away, like a child, vulnerable and you can't help but soften at that “He didn't like the way I treated you.” 

Eating your words from before, you shake your head “You didn't treat me like anything.” 

The elevator dings and you get inside. 

San follows you. 

“Exactly,” he says, resting his shoulder on the metal “Like you said I just did nothing and—” 

“Well, sometimes that's just what happens,” you want to end this. You want to pack Gyuri’s bag, give it to him and never see him again. 

This conversation hurts, it reopens barely closed wounds and it creates new ones you don't really need when it comes to whatever happened between you two. 

There's only so much a person can handle and it really doesn't help that you're a fool for San. He takes advantage of it, of the fact you can't really push him away at this point and the fact that he wants to have this conversation now instead of four and half years ago? 

Mean. 

He's mean. He's evil. He's… He's staring at you with a spark in his eyes that you recognize too well. 

Hope. 

When you get to your floor, you try to wipe the image away while busying yourself with your keys. Your hands tremble a little but you're able to open the door of your apartment and get in without inviting him. 

He gets in anyway. You take off your shoes as he closes the front door. 

He stays silent as he follows you around the apartment and you don't worry about turning the lights on. You get into Gyuri’s room and start picking out a comfy hangover outfit for your friend. Some clean underwear, sweatpants, two shirts and socks. 

When you drop to the floor, in front of the closet, to look for a bag to stash all of it in, San silently clutches beside you. 

“It shouldn't have happened to us. Never us.” 

You can't take it anymore. 

“San, what is this? What are you doing? I mean, why are we—” 

“I know.” 

“It's been years…”  

“I miss you.” 

He's so mean. But the softness in his tone resembles the one he used all the way back in highschool, when he told you that not being friends with you didn't feel right and you want to cave in right there and then. 

Your heart screams at you to do it, your reason warns you that you both have been through this before and it never ends right. 

You simply can't stay friends with Choi San. 

Your love for him must run too deep, your resentment claws at it and tries to hurt it but it's an immovable force that won't budge even if you try to bury it under the years that have passed, the things he has done. 

Tears gather in your eyes and you try to blink them away as you stare at your best friend's clothes on your lap and try to come up with something to close this path up again, reconstruct the picket fence you built around it the second he broke your heart for the first time. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back, letting the walls fall a little “I miss you too but I don't think I miss whatever version of you you are right now, San.” 

“W-what?”

His shaky voice makes the walls crumble and crash. 

Turning to him, your hand shakes as you place it on top of his “And you don't miss the version of me I am right now. You miss what I was back then, the comfort and the shoulder to cry on I offered you when Arin and you broke up. You miss my availability and the way I didn't press my feelings on you because it didn't matter if I liked you or not, you were my friend first and the guy that I had a crush second but—” you choke up, tears falling down your cheeks even if you don't want them to “I can't do it anymore. I'm not that girl anymore and I won't be there for you now that you and Kyungmi broke up because I can't handle it. I can't, I'm sorry.” 

He doesn't deny any of it.

He stares at you, tears wetting his cheeks as well and it hurts even more this way. You wish you had the strength to hold it together, to treat him like you did on the street a few minutes ago, but you can't. 

There's no way you could ever hate him like you want to. 

“You know…” he starts in a whisper, letting out a humorless chuckle “That's what I used to tell myself too.” 

“Hm?” 

“That you were my friend first and the girl that I had a crush on second.” 

How dare he mutter the words you always wanted to hear, the ones you picture being said in a different setting, the ones that haunted your every waking thought that period of time you doubted your friends, your mom, yourself for even believing Choi San could ever have a crush on you. 

He doesn't get to say them. You want to tell him but the words die on your throat and form a lump that you can't swallow down. 

You don't get to say that. You don't get to say that. 

Your hand drops from his and you look away again only to grab the first bag you find on the closet floor and shove Gyuri’s stuff in it. 

If the lack of response it's what prompts the hurt in his voice the next time he speaks, you don't want to think about it. 

“I wish I didn't. Now it's too late to do something about it, huh?” 

This time the rage comes back with a mask on. Feing settlement for all the what if’s covers you like a blanket on a really hot summer night: unwanted, unnecessary. 

But you can't sleep without it, so you do nothing to push it away. 

“I guess it is.” 

You get up from the floor, leaving the room and wiping your face with bitterness coating your movements as you wait by the door for him to get out. 

When he does and he steps in front of you, you extend the bag and he takes it without missing a beat. 

Voice robotic and words premeditated, you open the front door for him “Thanks for walking me home and taking this back.” 

He leans a little into your space and you don't move away. But just as he did in highschool, he takes in your hitched breath and does nothing more.

“Thanks for letting me talk to you.” 

He didn't give you much of a choice there but it's okay. This is closure, this is the end of your story with Choi San and you convince yourself you're glad that it is. 

“Sure,” you whisper back and he steps outside, turning around to watch you slowly close the door “goodnight, San.” 

He doesn't say it back. 

When the darkness of your apartment engulfs you, that's when you let yourself breakdown. Covering your mouth with your palm, you descend until your knees are against the wood on the floor and closing your eyes you make it a point to let it all out. 

You'll let it all out, drink some water, text Wooyoung and Gyuri to let them know you're safe and go to bed. 

And tomorrow you'll begin your day with the freedom of finally knowing what would've happened if you or San ever took the next step. 

This is fine. This is moving on. This is— 

The doorbell rings. 

Opening the door again, you crease your eyebrows in a silent question that San doesn't care to answer, so you look around the floor in case he forgot something you're missing. You wipe your cheeks and under your eyes as you turn to him again “Did you—” 

Time slows down when he makes it past the threshold and you can't move an inch, gaping at who you once thought was the love of your life “What are you doing, San?” 

“Something about it.” 

“What?” 

“Forgive me,” he asks, breathless and in a murmur, fueling your confusion. And then he's closing the distance, dropping Gyuri’s bag and cupping your face so gently that it hurts “but I'm doing something about it.” 

You stopped dreaming about the possibility of San kissing you that one time you two were on your bed and, another time, you told yourself that, if it ever happened, you wouldn't kiss him back. 

It's too late to kiss him back. 

But sparks fly when he crushes you against the wall and takes in a breath before slothing his mouth against yours like he's been waiting to do this every single day for the past nine years you've known each other. 

There's nothing you can do to conceal the way yearning takes over you, pours out of you, making you breathe into his open mouth and kiss him back like you always wanted to. 

You already know it is a mistake by the time you grab his shirt to keep him in place but does it really matter when this is all you ever wanted? 

Feeling warmth leave your face, you notice the way he desperately crowds your space as his chest bumps into yours, leg claiming its place in between yours, the palm that leaves you pressing against the wall, next to your head. 

The kiss is filled with emotion, with longing and desire and it steals the air out of your lungs tragically and beautifully at the same time. Before, you used to dream about his lips making everything feel right, making you fit in in a world you didn't feel like you belonged to. 

But this kiss drops you into uncharted territory, drags you into the depths of something that should be buried by now, after all this time. It brings the flame back to life and it's dangerous. 

The fact that it feels this way, both marvelous and catastrophic at the same time, makes you so sad. 

Sorrow descends down your face until your mouth is picking it up and your tongue is mixing it with whatever emotion is cruising through San right now. 

You have to know. 

He spent your entire youth and early adulthood keeping it to himself, knowing when to show his true colors and when to hide them, choosing who to do it with and you realize the San that lives in your head is nothing but a figment of what you wanted him to be. 

Because him holding to your waist like it's his only lifeline doesn't fit the San you remember, him telling you he liked you back then doesn't fit the guy who was just your best friend. 

You need to know. 

“San,” brokenly, you speak into his mouth and he pulls away just enough to see your face. Your eyes remain closed, your chest heaving and your lips trembling “Why are you doing this?” 

“Because I want you, Y/N.” 

You push him away, weakly, almost like you don't really mean it because deep down you don't but he steps away like you're asking to. 

Because, of course, your mind scraps the bottom of your resentment to give his words a completely new meaning. 

“You can find another girl to fuck and be your rebound, San,” more tears spill down and you wipe them away in anger but more threat to fall down so you cover your face with your hands and groan, desperate “I can't do this, especially not when I know that you know how bad I wanted you. Y-you know what you do to me San so stop—”

“I want you in my life. I don't— What? I don't want you like a rebound, I… Can we sit down and turn on a light so I can look at you when I say this?” 

His words should be reassuring but they're not, the way you tend to feel unlovable around him coming up to the surface, preventing you from thinking clearly. 

You can also feel his lips on yours still. It's dizzying but you manage to push yourself off the wall and pad around until you hit the switch of the warm light lamp near the couch and the apartment comes to life just like that. 

He takes in the space he's never seen before, walking slowly towards the living room and looking over the bookshelf that screams your name all over it. He smiles a bit as he looks over the book titles and you look away before your heart starts acting up again. 

You can't stay mad at him for long if he's looking through something so personal to you and smiling that fondly at it. It feels even more intimate than the kiss you two just shared. 

Wiping your cheeks once more, you are sure you look a mess but he doesn't seem to mind it once he comes into your point of view, sitting down on the couch, in front of your standing form. He grabs you by your hands until you're sitting next to him, close to him, cologne intoxicating your senses. 

“I told you I liked you when we were in highschool, right?” 

You nod. 

“You seemed surprised but it was dark so I'm not really sure. I thought you knew, everyone knew.” 

Oh, he's a comedian. 

“How would I have known, San? I… Yeri told me you liked me one time, in senior year, but I denied it. Then, my mom told me you seemed to want me in a non-platonic way and I dismissed her as well,” you take in a deep, shaky breath “For me, the thought of you liking me just didn't make sense. You loved Arin and she's… She doesn't look or act like I did back then at all, so how would I have known?” 

You didn't need clues and puzzles and what if’s, you needed words and actions that weren't confusing. You needed him to tell you back then, because telling you right now and kissing you senseless after he broke up with a girl he supposedly was very in love with means nothing but pain. 

“I didn't realize you liked me too,” you make a face, about to tell him off, but he interrupts “I didn't! I thought you liked Yeri and I thought you saw me as the annoying guy who wouldn't leave you alone. I only just realized it a couple years ago, because Woo told me.” 

You raise your eyebrows and mutter under your breath “I'm murdering him tomorrow.” 

The corner of his lips twitch before he shakes his head in dismissal of what you said “I liked you. I really, really liked you and never told a soul because… Well, it's scary when you fall in love, right?” 

“San, you had no problem telling Arin, Minseo or Kyungmi that you liked them.” 

He looks down to the floor, lost in thought and you want to open your mouth to take what you just said into a new direction, but you don't “Maybe that's because I didn't love them the way I love you.” 

Oh. 

Love you? As in… He loves you right now too? 

No way. 

“You didn't love me, San. You don't love me right now either, you… Maybe we both were in love with the idea of love? Maybe that's what happened and—” 

“Quit telling me what I'm feeling, Y/N. You always do that, you always assume you know what I'm feeling but you don't!” 

Raising your voice a little more, you try to get your point across in the worst way possible: by being stubborn “You don't know me! How can you possibly—” 

“I knew you back then, Y/N! And I loved you back then, too!” He looks like wants to say something more but he doesn't, instead, he takes a calming breath and then leans into your space for the third time tonight “And I might not know you now but I want to. That's what I meant when I said that I want you. I want you in my life, I want to know the person you became when we stopped talking, I want to talk to you every single day and I want to hold you and kiss you and be by your side however you want me to, I just… I can't lose you again.” 

His confession renders you speechless and you notice his chest is heaving, going up and down in sync with yours. 

But the way he pulled away from you senior year still hurts, it paints a picture of what's going to happen if you accept this. 

You can't believe his words. 

He must feel lonely and confused, like he did when Arin broke up with him. He must be looking for a shelter you can't provide. 

“And when you find another girl that's more to your liking? What then, San?” 

“There's no one that I love more than you, Y/N and I'm sorry I was shit at proving it back then and I'm sorry that it took so many years for me to come to my senses.” 

He's tearing up and your heart pangs absurdly loud at that. 

“I saw you with Seonghwa earlier today, laughing and dancing and flirting and I thought: Oh, maybe if I didn't waste that much time pretending I'm someone I'm not, that would be me.” 

You stare for a second, you watch a single tear drop down his cheek and then look away. 

“Is that what you were doing? Is that why you pulled away?” 

“Maybe?” he offers and you turn to him again. Is not enough and maybe he can see it in your expression, because he goes on “I mean, I… I thought I wanted Arin. I thought I wanted Minseo. I had people in my life who were really happy to see me with them and I just…” 

“Wanted to keep them happy,” you nod, understanding. He doesn't have to say his mothers name for you to know he's referring to her and maybe his other highschool friends outside of Wooyoung “Were you pretending with me as well?” 

“No,” he answers right away “You and Woo were the only ones who saw me for who I really was back then.” 

“And why do you think you love me now, San?” you ask, deflating against the couch and ignoring the way your heart soars at his quick response.

“Because I never stopped,” he stammers out and then clears his throat “Because I looked for you in Minseo and Kyungmi and I wondered for years why they couldn't make me feel the same way. And I told myself I didn't need to feel the same way and that I deserved to wonder for the rest of my days but seeing you tonight? I can't.” 

Straightening your spine, the pained look you sent in his direction is not intentional but it prompts him to lean closer and closer until he's cupping your cheek again. 

“I can't keep wondering.” His voice is a sweet whisper, a siren song that draws you in until your forehead is resting against his. 

All these years, you were so self-focused on changing to a better version of who he used to know, learning from your mistakes and closing off to the opportunity of letting him prove himself a better man, you forgot that time passed for him too. He’s telling you he changed, too. 

Imagination is a safe space. Is where you hide, where desire can take its wings and fly high without hurting you too much. Make belief has rescued you before but this? The way his nose nuzzles softly into yours and your breaths tangle? This is very real. And reality is prone to hurt you. 

But the want you feel is undeniable. The way your entire being wants to cave in and give him an opportunity is suffocating, it makes you choke out a sob that he follows with one of his own. 

You kiss him, softly at the beginning, but his hands on you tighten and you let yourself get lost in the way they go down your neck and your arms, caressing you softly until they reach your waist and pull you into his lap. 

Pulling away, you grab his chin with two fingers and force his teary eyes to snap open, searching for an answer on yours.

“If you hurt me,” you start, breathless “If you're mocking me, if you're using me to get over Kyungmi, if you are pulling me back in to break my heart again, Choi San, I swear to God I will kill you.” 

“I won't do that to you ever again, Y/N,” he returns softly “I love you, I'm sorry if I ever hurt you but I love you.” 

Others would argue that it is pathetic how quickly you forgive him. But then again, you could never be mad at San. 

You were only mad at yourself for how everything turned out. 

“I love you too, Sannie.” 

Saying something never felt so freeing before. 

“Oh, Y/N…” you can see the way relief washes his worries away “Y/N…” he starts to say but then leans in to kiss you again and never finishes his words. 

You don't mind it. 

Pouring out all the pent up affection you pretended to bury for years, you explore his mouth and carve into your memory the way he feels. The way he sighs into it when your tongue brushes his, the way he pulls you in closer when your fingers reach the nape of his neck and pull on his hair there, hands splayed on your back so he can keep you in place as he leans down and places you against the worn out couch. 

He maps you out, hands going down your waist in a familiar feeling that brings back that memory of you two laying down on your bed. Only this time, he's actually touching you with a purpose. This time, you two have made up your minds and your limbs are tangled in a way you can feel all of him pressing up against you. 

It starts to get stuffy, the space on the couch not nearly enough to have him the way you want to. Soon, you're both standing up, mouths still moving against each other and hands roaming everywhere until you're undoing the buttons on his shirt. 

He pulls away to fully take it off, eyes never leaving yours, dropping the shirt to the ground, next to the couch and then he's on you again, making your back crash into the wall as he works the knots keeping your blouse together. 

He walks you through the hall, stopping only to take your top off and then he's walking you to a room that has a familiar scent that doesn't belong to you.

“Wrong room, wrong room,” you say into his lips and he laughs, looking to your surroundings “Mine’s over there.” you point to the other end of the hall, taking his hand and pulling him towards it. 

You don't make it far before he's yanking you towards him again. He looks down, taking your body in and you do the same, his firm and defined stomach a sight you never thought you would be able to see. 

“You're so beautiful,” he whispers, backing you against the wall again and kissing your cheek “So, so beautiful.” 

Turning your head to chase his mouth, he lets out a heavy sigh when his lips trail a path to your neck and murmurs against the skin there “I never told you how beautiful I found you before but you're so perfect, baby.” 

“I always thought I wasn't your type, San,” you let out a noise when he grabs your hips and pulls you forward, crashing his into yours “Fuck.” 

“And I always thought you were too much for me, too smart,” he kisses his way back up, focusing on your jaw and chin until he's kissing your cheek again “too pretty,” he moves to your ear, pecking right under it and you hold him closer “too good for me.” 

It doesn't really matter that this is all new to you, the way he's speaking, the tenor of his voice, the things he's saying… It sparks something familiar in you. You're pulling his hair back to make him look at you, a moan slipping out of his lips at that. 

You want to hear it again. 

He's smiling at your reaction, hand tightening on his locks.

However, that smile drops when he seems to recognize the gleam in your eyes. 

You gather up courage, feeling empowered by the way his hooded eyes darken but wait patiently for you to speak your mind. 

“Maybe I'm too good for you now, too,” you lean in, your lips softly tracing his “Maybe you should prove to me that you deserve me, San.” 

It's a dare. One that he seems to like a lot because his eyes sparkle with the same fire they used to back in the day. 

“Oh, I'll prove it to you, alright.” He whispers, panting when you let go of his hair and he leans into you to kiss your lips briefly before pulling away again.

His hand tilts your head back and you rest it against the cold wall, his fingers touch your bottom lip before going down and down and down until they rest against the seam of your pants, unbuttoning them in one swift movement. 

Going back up, his nails softly dig into your skin and you preen, taking the soft sting of his ministrations like you two have done this a million times before.  

His mouth is on yours again, his hands are pulling you off the wall and into your room until you two land on your mattress, a moan spilling out of your lips when he sloths his knee in between your legs and pulls them apart with expertise. 

You don't have the mind to break down what that means. 

Opening your eyes when he kisses down your neck again, you notice your room is barely lit by the street lights outside, curtains pulled open and windows closed but, this way, you can see the way San kisses between your breasts and your belly, catching his eyes when he looks up to measure your reaction. 

You sigh, already feeling some sort of build up going on down there and he hasn't even touched you properly yet. 

You don't even want to think about how wet you actually are. 

He leans back, open palms going down your legs slowly until they reach your feet. It tickles and you can't help but let out a giggle that he joins short after, his gaze never losing the edge because of it, though. 

“San…” 

He guides your hips up so he can take off your pants and you sigh when his hands return, raising your leg up “I missed your laugh,” he says low, attaching his lips to your calf “I miss being the one making you laugh too.” 

You feel like crying again but then he's letting your leg down and grabbing the other one to give it the same treatment, so your tears can wait. 

This time, he moves upwards till his mouth nears your clothed center and your breath hitches. 

Yeah, you can definitely cry later.

“You want me to prove to you how much I want you, Y/N?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting your mound now “How much I love you?” 

“San, p-please…” 

“Fuck, look at you.” He sounds like he's too lost in the heat of the moment and you're kind of grateful, because the moan you let out when his fingers hook on your underwear and pull them to the side to expose your pussy to his hungry eyes is loud. 

When he kisses you right where you need him, you let out another moan. And when he parts your folds to lick a stripe up to your clit, you curse him under your breath until he's laughing against you softly, the vibrations accumulating heat on your belly. 

He doesn't tease you much longer and you look down at him just to catch the moment his self control slips, eating you out like a man starved while his hand stays on your hip to hold you down and keep you underwear from interrupting his feast. 

“This is like,” he dives in again for a few seconds and you grab the sheets beneath you “All my fantasies coming to life but better.” 

He's so chatty during this and the only thing you can do is stammer a yeah? and pray for it to reach his ears.

“Mhm,” He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue and your legs shake “It tastes even better than what I dreamed, too.” 

The heat of his mouth leaves you, lips spreading your wetness through your stomach until he fully reaches your face, your eyes closed and lips already waiting for him. 

Tongue caressing yours, your hands trail down his torso and focus on getting his pants off. You're shaking with excitement so it proves to be more difficult than you imagined at first but he helps you in unbuckling his belt. 

Once the piece of clothing is on the floor (or the bed, you're not really paying attention to where it lands), you don't waste time in feeling him up through his boxers. 

The hiss you get in return makes you smile. 

Bringing your lips to his neck, you suckle on this pulse point and gain another pleased noise before grazing your teeth against skin and moving to his collarbone next.

In a way, you get what he means. If he truly was pining over you the way you were pining over him, the thought of exploring his tan skin and making him moan feels like a dream. 

So you kiss him again in order to make it all last longer. 

The minutes pass between the both of you, softly making out and figuring out what gets both of you going, discarding your underwear in the process. 

You realize your moans make San’s cock twitch against your leg and he seems to notice the way your hips buck up everytime his hands handle you more roughly. 

After a few minutes of just this, you feel his hand making its way down again and the pads of his fingers circle your clit until you're grasping the sheets again. He gathers your arousal and then enters one finger slowly and when it slides in and out with ease, he enters the next one. 

There's really not much prepping he needs to do, already soft and compliant under him, you relax into his comfortable touch before you're aching for something else. And your mouth is preoccupied with his, so you do something else to catch his attention. 

Hands caressing his back, you let them drop to his ass with a soft smack that wins you a soft huff on amusement and then a whine when you move his hips towards yours. 

“Condom?” 

You shake your head “I'm clean and I have an implant.” 

“Oh?” he smirks, about to tease you but you squeeze his butt again and he moans “Fuck. I'm clean too.” 

“Good,” you whisper against his cheek, laughing as he arranges his position. 

And he might've been touching you all this time, kissing you until your mind emptied and your lips are all swollen up, but the look on his eyes when he slowly enters you is what might drive you over the edge. 

Grabbing your hands, he pins them on the side of your head as he moves, dropping his head down with a groan as you take him in, nose touching yours and moth whispering sweet things you can't quite pick up. 

He feels so good. 

This all feels way too good to be real. 

In the cloud you're at, you allow yourself to dream a little more before the reality of what your confessions mean dawns on you. 

For now, you allow San to make love to you. Sweetly, slowly and with a passion you never were lucky enough to encounter before. 

Maybe it's because your previous lovers didn't have your heart the way San does. 

He rams his hips into yours hard, closing his eyes and resting his warm cheek against yours, kissing your face inch by inch when you accompany his movements with your own. 

When his pace picks up, you hug him close and secure your legs around his hips as you moan. 

“Y-yes, fuck.” 

“Like that?” he repeats the movement from before, pulling out and then in with such force it rocks the entire bed. 

“Just like that, baby, fuck.” 

“God, you sound so good,” you smile a little, forehead resting on his shoulder before your head falls down against your pillow again “I love you,” he repeats against your lips, letting your hands go to cup your face with both of his again “I love you so much.” 

Teetering over the edge, you feel happy tears stinging in your eyes. Though closed, you can feel San’s stare on you, on your face, on the way you react to his sweet words and relentless pace. 

You say it back in a whisper and he repeats it again and again and again until you're both coming and tears are spilling down your cheeks. 

He kisses them away. 

You wipe his with trembling fingers as you come down, having trouble breathing from everything that just happened. 

You don't feel suffocated anymore, you feel like you've been freed. Like this was supposed to happen at some point and you two finally got around to it. 

“I love you,” he says once more before slipping out of you with a parting kiss. 

Holy shit. 

When San gets up from the bed and you point him to the bathroom, down the hallway, you're left with a sticky mess in between your legs and a lot to think about but you settle on four things. 

San just made love to you. There's no way that was just sex. 

There's also no way you're coming back from this. 

Gyuri is probably going to kill you. 

And that, obviously, your feelings for San never left. You feel the familiar warmth of them spreading through your post-orgasmic state. They're there, mocking you, asking you who the fuck you thought you were for pushing them away. 

He returns, toilet paper in his hands before leaning in and cleaning you up, lips immediately finding home on your skin as he does. 

You both giggle at that.

You probably need to shower but you've been crying and there's no way you're leaving this bed tonight. He throws the paper away on your bedroom’s trashcan and then crashes into the bed next to you, still naked, still looking at you with so much love you're wondering what stopped you from seeing it was there before. 

Taking his hand, you bring it to his lip and give his knuckles a peck “That was really good.” 

“It was.” 

“I can't believe we actually just did that…” 

He smiles and what he says next shocks you even more than his confession “I want to take you out.” 

“San… You just came inside me not even ten minutes ago.” 

“And?” you laugh and he shakes his head, leaning into your space again “I spent many years doing everything wrong, let me do it the right way.” 

“Making love to me one time and then taking me out on a date is not the right way, sir.” 

He nuzzles your cheek with his nose and you let out a pleased sigh “Who said it was just one time, huh?” Attacking your neck with his lips again, you push him away with a laugh. 

“Oh, come on!” 

He laughs as well “Give me ten minutes and I'll make it two!” 

San makes love to you two more times. And by four in the morning, you're snuggled into his arms and sleeping soundly. 

When you wake up and find the space next to you empty, you think it was all a dream. Your naked form begs to differ and you quickly put the t-shirt you usually wear to bed on and your panties underneath it to go out and face the feelings of your actions fighting with the blender in the kitchen. 

“How do you two live with this stupid thing?” 

“We don't,” you answer, startling him “We don't use it. What are you trying to make?” 

San’s shirtless, wearing his pants and his hair messy. Looking back at the living room clock, you see it's just five past ten. 

Smiling as he approaches you, you forget you must look a mess too when he pecks your lips and barely pulls away “Good morning, beautiful.” 

You pretend to cringe at that, pulling away “Oh, God. Morning, dumbass.” 

“You like it, you're blushing,” he points out and the pink on your cheek deepens as he's going back to the blender “Does anything work here?” 

“The microwave,” you shrug “And the stove. Were you trying to make yourself a…” you look over the ingredients he has pulled out of your fridge “Green juice?” 

“I was trying to make both of us a green juice,” he corrects and your heart skips at the immediate domestic attitude he has with you “But now I can tell neither of you drink anything like it, hm? I'm buying you a blender.” 

“Please don't.” 

“Why?” 

“Why do you think that one is broken?” 

He hums, huffing out a laugh seconds later and you walk over to him, unsure on how to approach him even though what you did yesterday night and earlier this morning didn't allow your shyness to step in. 

Now you're feeling it. 

He can tell, because he stops fighting with the steel appliances to grab your waist and pull you close “I wanted to make you breakfast.” 

“We can make breakfast together and I can order your green juice,” you compromise and he nods, but he doesn't let you go “And later we can go out on that date you promised me yesterday and we can go over what we're going to tell the two idiots.” 

His smile drops. 

“Oh, fuck.” 

Grimacing, you nod “It was the second thing I thought about after waking up.” 

“What was the first?” 

“Oh, I was trying to remember if you ever asked me to dance before,” he nods with a smile “Guess what? You didn't.” 

He fake gasps at that “I did!” 

“No, you didn't!” 

“Babe, yes I did,” he insists and you laugh, which prompts him to wrap his hands around you tighter when you try to get away from him “It was when—” 

“Oh. My. God. I'm going to be sick again.” 

Now when the fuck did Gyuri come back. 

And why is Wooyoung with her too, jaw slack as he watches both of you pull away from each other and create a safe distance that doesn't help whatever your best friends just saw. 

“It worked?” he asks and you can barely hear him until he hollers like a crazy person “Oh, it worked! I am a genius!” 

“Wooyoung, hold me! I'm going to kill them!” Gyuri looks like she's about to launch towards you at any second now, so you close your eyes and accept your fate. But nothing happens “Wait— What worked?” 

When you open them again, San is hiding behind you and Gyuri’s back is to both of you as she looks at Wooyoung with, what you assume, murderous intentions. 

“Gyuri, let's talk about this,” the black haired guy puts his hands up “You were too drunk to discuss it so I made the choice of— Gyuri, no!” 

You burst into laughter when she starts chasing him around the apartment and San giggles as well, only more nervous than delighted by their little cat and mouse game. 

He's probably sensing he's next on her hit list. 

As if you would let anything happen to him in the first place. 

“Stop, stop! I'm sorry, please leave me alone!” you hear Wooyoung’s voice echoing through your hall and in a second he's entering the kitchen, rounding you and San “I'm so happy for you guys, really, this was meant to happ— Stop!” He cries when Gyur catches onto him and yanks his hair to stop him from running.  

“Y/N,” she starts, chest heaving and you take a step back, crashing into San’s chest. He holds onto you only to push you a little and protect himself from the fury of your best friend “When I told you fuck him I didn't meant this!” 

“I know.” 

Wooyoung whines but he can't get away from her grasp so he just accepts it and pouts like a child. 

“A-and you!” She points towards the guy resting his chin on your shoulder “How dare you! If this is something casual for you then—” 

“I love her.” He defends himself quickly and your heart all but stops at that. 

“You do?” Wooyoung coos, amazed at his best friend’s confession. 

Gyuri's anger falters at that. 

“You… You do?” 

“And I love him,” you let out in a shy whisper, smiling a bit “But you already knew that.” 

“Of course I already knew that, bitch, I am your other half,” she makes a point to stare at San as she says it, letting Wooyoung go and he massages the part of his scalp that was targeted by his ex “Don't forget that.” 

“Y-yes ma'am.” 

You laugh again and Woo joins the embrace, eyeing you both expectantly and rolling his eyes when neither of you say anything to him “Well, you are so welcome guys. What are we having for breakfast?” 

You and San don't get to go out on that date. 

But when you do, he asks you to be his girlfriend the next day. 

And when you say yes he almost breaks down in excited tears.

Eventually, even Gyuri comes around and threatens him into treating you right, which means he earned her seal of approval. 

You delete the document on your laptop when you find it a month into being his girlfriend and, instead, start drafting your new beginning on it, in first person this time because the story doesn't feel like it belongs to someone else now.

The first line read as it follows: 

How did I ever think San and I could be just friends? 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[5sospenguinqueen]

The Wrong Bull | Mark Webber x Interviewer! Reader

Summary: Mark was enjoying a private relationship with his favourite F1 interviewer. Until the internet started shipping you with his biggest rival

Warnings: Malaysia 2013. A lot of fabrication ie made up insta names. Swearing. Suggestive content. Indulgent blurb because who doesn’t like the idea of needy/possessive Mark. 

Requested: No

F1 Masterlist

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its_yn just posted

liked by markwebber, f1 and others

its_yn happy malaysia grand prix weekend! i’m very happy to be in the paddock this weekend bringing you the insight on how our eleven teams are doing

6,622 comments

danielricciardo can’t wait to see you. always bring me the most interesting questions

→ its_yn and you always bring me the most random answers

user1 my fave interviewer. i love the way she lovingly bullies the drivers. they’re always so engaging with her

jensonbutton now that’s a handsome man

→ its_yn thank you, i try 

→ danielricciardo but i’m the one with random answers?

user2 i’m so happy you’re in the paddock. you have the best rapport with the drivers and always have the best interviews with them

skysportsf1 when all the drivers beg for you to be there, we can’t say no

→ its_yn aw, you guys. i knew you loved me really

→ sebastianvettel of course. the prettiest interviewer we have

→ user3 oh, well then, get in there vettel

→ user4 sebastian making his move

user5 vettel winning on and off the track

user6 no way he bagged the hot sky sports presenter

user7 okay but the way she was smiling at him

→ user8 and the way he looked at her? talk about heart eyes

user9 if they need a third or a dog, i can bark

user10 ngl i thought jenson button was going to win her over

user11 okay, let’s chill a second guys. they just entered the paddock together

→ user12 we might be seeing the beginning of their relationship! how can any of us be calm. used to pray for times like these 

→ user13 yes but we don’t want to scare them off before we get confirmation

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Back resting against the wall of Mark's driver room, legs curled beneath you, you flipped through your notebooks. Going through your notes, you occasionally jotted something down, deeming it worthy of potentially mentioning during any interviews later. The sound of the lock turning had your head snapping up in time to see Mark's tall stature fill the doorframe. His eyes landed on you instantly, and he wriggled through the small gap he had created, blocking you from view of whoever was on the other side. A few short sentences later, Mark had managed to provide an adequate excuse to be alone. The door shut with a quiet click and Mark assured you it was locked.

"What are you doing here?" Mark questioned, the soft smile on his face assuring he wasn't opposed to the sight of you in his room. "Shouldn't you be out bothering more important people?"

"More important than you?" You shot back. "I've been put in charge of the post-race interviews today so I've got a bit of a break."

Mark took note of your jacket hanging on the back of his door, and your shoes at the foot of his massage table. His things surrounded by your things. And he was warmed by how comfortable you were here. In an endeavour to find some peace admit the chaos of the paddock, you took refuge in his room. The notion stoked the little fire of possessiveness within him.

"So, you're just going to hide out here until the race?"

Your pile of snacks, the circle of papers around you, and his jumper hanging from your frame told him all he needed to know. He just wanted - no, needed - to hear you say it. Especially after he'd overheard some of the drivers teasing Vettel during the Parade. About you, and the internet's speculations. And how if the German ended up on the podium, then how could the "pretty interviewer" say no to a date. So, regardless of the fact that it was his name and number splashed across your body, he still needed to hear you say it. To confirm that you were his and his alone.

"Until I'm needed, then yes," you smiled, watching as he slowly approached.

The white fireproof clinging to his muscular arms flexed as he placed them on either side of you. His race suit was wrapped around his waist precariously, looking ready to fall apart with a slight tug.

He angled his head down towards you, cheeks dimpling when he grinned. "And if I say you're needed right now?"

Your arms looped around his neck, pulling him down to close the small gap he had left between you. "What exactly am I needed for, Mr Webber?"

His eyes darted down to your mouth, watching as your tongue darted out to wet your lips. Before you could register that he'd moved, his mouth was on yours, moving against you and swallowing your surprised squeak. His arms wound themselves around your midsection, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body pressed into you instantly, and you melted into his touch.

Sliding your hands into his hair, you tugged at the short strands so as to pull him off you in order to catch your breath. As he didn't need oxygen more than he needed you, Mark's lips continued moving. His lips moved across your jaw, under your ear and down to the fluttering pulse in your neck, leaving a fiery path as he moved. A whimper was pulled from you when he sucked gently, your back arching into him. Paper crinkled beneath you when he lowered you onto the bed.

"Mark," you moaned, "you don't have time."

"Shh," he whispered against your skin, crawling atop you, trapping you between his body and the massage table. It have a groan of protest but he paid it no mind.

Not when your hands slid under his fireproofs, stroking the heated skin of his abdomen before trailing lower. With one pull, the knot of his race gave way, removing the cushioning that had prevented his hard length from pressing into you. A throaty groan escaped him when you rolled your hips against him.

Mark chuckled at your sudden eagerness. "What happened to not having enough time?"

"You shouldn't be so tempting."

Knowing that you craved him as much as he did you had Mark reconnecting your lips, moving with more fervour. Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slide against yours. His hips jerked against you when you pulled his bottom lip into your mouth, sucking gently. Mark's hands slid down your hips, reaching around to palm your ass and pull you flush against him. The throbbing in his underwear intensified.

Two sharp raps on the door made your eyes snap open, fear flitting across your face when the door handle rattled. Mark pressed closer to you once more; not in lust but worry that someone would see you in the dishevelled state he had created. That was a sight for his eyes only.

Another knock came before a deep voice called out for the driver. "Christian wants to see you for a pre-race chat."

"What, now?"

"Yeah."

Mark groaned before looking down at you. Lipstick smeared, cheeks flushed and blotches darkening on your neck. He wasn't sure he could go outside. The image of you like this would stay with him, making him strain against the fabric of his suit.

"Go, my love," you whispered, tying his suit back around his waist, ensuring the arms carefully concealed the problem you had created. "And try not to collide with your teammate."

Well, the mention of his biggest rival this year was one way to soften him.

"You'll still be here when I get back? Before I jump in the car?" He pleaded.

He knew the answer. Of course he did. The routine had been the same for the past two years but, as before, he needed the verbal reassurance.

"And why would I do that?" You teased, snickering when the 6'1 man in front of you started to pout.

"Because how else would I get my pre-race kiss?"

"You could away ask Vettel."

The look on Mark's face turned from faux sadness to something much darker. You yelped when his teeth sunk into your neck before he pressed a soothing kiss on the mark he'd left (yes, I laughed at that). Shooting you a wink, he dashed out the door, and you were left alone once more.

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user1 seb really turned on the charm with this one

→ user2 he got away with defying team orders, won the race, and decided to win the girl 

user3 they would make such a cute couple though

user4 idk how yn managed to keep her calm, interviewer face on because if 3x wdc winner sebastian vettel spoke to me like that, i’d be giggling and twirling my hair fr

user5 okay i wasn’t a fan of the sebastian/yn train earlier but this interview may have convinced me 

user6 i love how she’s trying to stay unbiased but you can see that she’s impressed with vettel’s racing today 

→ user7 i actually thought she was a bit short with him for a change

→ user8 no i agree. her energy felt off. usually she laughs when they’re flirting

user9 did anyone else see webber watching them in the background?

→ user10 vettel needs to sleep with one eye open

user11 everyone talking about sebyn but i swear she kept looking behind him at mark

→ user12 mark defo smiled at her when they made eye contact 

→ user13 bfr, she’s clearly into seb here 

f1 just posted

liked by its_yn, redbullracing and others

f1 and it’s a 1-2 for red bull! oh, sorry, was that meant to say 2-1? 

9,222 comments

redbullracing that’s our bulls

→ user1 i didn’t realise we celebrated defying team orders

→ user2 oh please. sebastian was faster. mark needs to just accept that 

its_yn well done, team red bull

→ user3 it’s okay, sis. you can say well done to the love of your life for winning 

→ user4 vettel getting a celebration better than a champagne shower later 

user5 f1 is foul for this lmao 

→ user6 love how they used the pics where mark looks the most pissed off

sebastianvettel very good race. well done, team 

→ user7 he sounds so polite like he’s not a certified track terror 

user8 i’m in love with admin today. they knew what they were doing with this caption 

jensonbutton has anyone heard from mark since the podium?

→ fernandoalonso he’s yapping my ear off until all the conferences are done

user9 poor mark. he looked ready to throttle seb when they were doing interviews

→ user10 omg was that the one where seb was flirting with yn??

→ user9 yes! webber was stood behind him looking murderous. so hot 

user11 not to be one of those but i saw yn comforting mark after the race

→ user12 before or after her flirty interview with seb? 

→ user13 not fans trying to push yn and webber based on their 3 interactions when all this seb and yn content is right there

user1 sorry but no one can convince me that she didn’t just have a celebration romp with vettel

→ user2 yes! got to celebrate his win properly haha

→ user3 when he asked if she had plans later knowing she’d end up in his driver’s room

user4 dishevelled clothes, messy hair and her red lipstick from the morning gone? did someone say driver’s room sex

user5 she really does look like she got dicked down good 

user6 it’s the fact that almost everyone from the garage has left and she still got caught, bless her

user7 no because imagine angry sex with mark webber after that race

→ user8 oof, i never saw mark that way before but his face on that podium has me feeling some kind of way 

→ user9 i love how everyone is thinking of seb and your magnificent brain thought of mark

→ user7 i’m just saying, if i had to pick between the blonde twink or the angry, tall aussie, i know who i’m going with 

user10 okay but imagine it was mark’s room she snuck out from. seb stole his win so mark stole his crush 

→ user11 revenge, hate sex 

user12 did anyone else see the two marks on her neck during the interviews earlier though? i don't think post-race was the first taste miss thing got today

user13 damn, i always thought vettel would be good but he looks like he did a number on her 

markwebber just posted

liked by redbullracing, danielricciardo and others

markwebber please can you stop "shipping" her with the wrong bull. she’s mine

7,012 comments

its_yn and has happily been yours for two wonderful years

→ user1 they’ve been together for two years?!

→ user2 excuse me, two years and they kept it from everyone?! 

fernandoalonso does this mean i lose elite status as the only one who knows?

→ jensonbutton you knew! 

→ lewishamilton of course he knew. although i feel a little blindsided 

user3 no because i was fighting in the trenches for mark and yn whilst y’all were pushing the sebyn agenda

user4 who taught him to take the most romantic photos ever

→ markwebber yn did

→ its_yn i trained him good, ladies, so back off

redbullracing members of the garage have asked that you keep any noise in the driver’s room to a minimum. please and thanks

→ user5 so she did get her back blown out after the race by angry mark

→ user6 living my dream

→ its_yn i see you. he’s not for you anymore

jensonbutton genuinely did not see this coming. ngl, i was convinced yn was with seb

→ redbullracing so did we. we got sucked into all the twitter theories. they made a convincing case

→ its_yn @/redbullracing we had to disclose our relationship to you?

→ redbullracing i know. that’s how convincing they were

→ markwebber @/christianhorner how do i file a complaint about admin

user7 the height difference between them 🥰

→ user8 the height difference between them 🥵

danielricciardo well, there go my chances 

→ markwebber you’re too young for her, mate

→ danielricciardo yes but clearly she has a thing for aussies

→ its_yn just the one ;)

user9 no wonder he was angry. seb stole his win and then poor mark had to watch him flirt with his girl

→ user10 and watch as the entire internet shipped his girlfriend of two years with that win-stealing man 

sebastianvettel oh

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requests are open. i promise your requests are on the way. i'm just slow haha

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25

[luvly-writer]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me

Batfamily x Neglected! Reader

Author's note: So originally, this was supposed to be only ONE shot...but I suck at making those so it will be a TWO shot. I am writing the second one right now as well so it will be posted at the same time.

Warnings: Neglectful family, long chapter

Part 2 // Part 3

---

These walls suffocated you. They truly did.

At first, when your mother had announced that Damian, your twin brother, and you would be leaving your home to live with your father, you were kind of excited. As much as Nanda Parbat was a home to you, you were excited to see the world, and finally feel free. Being the "spare twin" certainly allowed you to have more freedom than Damian growing up. Both of you were trained exactly the same way, yet, whilst your grandfather prefer to hone your brother's skill in other areas, you had the flexibility of running around and doing as you went. But no bird is truly free if they still live in a cage. So...

You were excited and that excitement lasted precisely two weeks. Damian and you had been close all your life, being twins kind of facilitated that. You trained together, ate together, read together, you spent the majority of your life together. You had each other's back; he was your solace and companion, your best friend. No one else in the world would ever get you like him. That's part of the reason Talia sent both of you. Growing up, no one could ever separate the two of you, not even your grandfather....well, that was until a certain Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne entered your lives.

Unlike your twin, you had no interest in being part of the vigilante business. It was well known that both of you were different in your character. Where Damian was brash, you were softer; he was ruthless, you were diplomatic; he was violent and cunning, you were elegant and merciful. That distinction was what made your grandfather direct Damian to be the heir of the Demon head. You were glad that you were away from the League as it would help you create an identity that didn't directly come from them and that became a problem.

Sure, it was two that came to stay at Wayne Manor, but only one was integrated into the family. It was disappointing, to say the least. Bruce favored Damian and whenever you tried to call him out on it, he'd blame it on the fact that Damian needed more help. As if it wasn't the two of you that came from the same place. Sure, you were tame and gentle, but you were just as Damian. The League didn't train an assassin and a princess. No, they had honed two weapons. Dick followed Bruce in that same thought process and it got even worst once he had to fill in as Batman temporarily. As much as he clashed heads with Damian, Tim enjoyed going par to par with his new brother. Jason knew both of them back when he was resurrected. You loved him as if he were your brother as well and you thought that it was reciprocated...until you roamed the halls of the manor and realized he never joked around with you the same way he did with Damian. You wanted to blame it on the fact that they were boys and maybe that got them to get along better...but it wasn't just that was it...Cassandra loved to bond with Damian because they were both child assassins but so! were! You! Stephanie loved to ruffle his hair and call him Little Bat, and Barbara would sit and try to explain modern terminology with him and laugh when he found it absurd. It didn't make sense.

Both of you went through the same thing, yet you had to understand why he needed more help and attention and love than you. It devastated you. You had read online that it was good to find healthy outlets to let out your frustrations, so you decided to find extracurriculars. Maybe if you required attention, it would be given to you, right? I mean, Robin was Damian's extracurricular in a way, right?

You took up ice skating. You found beauty in the sport and given that you had training, you were excelling at it. Given that your father was a busy man, he was never one to take you to practice. He just paid for the coach, the team, the skates, the outfits, and all the fees necessary. Alfred, may he be blessed, was your solace and would often be found taking you to practices and would stay for support. You had great potential for someone of such a young age and your coaches would never fail to remind you. Your first competition came and you were through the roof with excitement. You would talk Damian's ear off, who always made time for you regardless of what was happening around the house. You would mention it in passing to anyone who would engage in even the smallest of conversations with you. You went as far as printing the competition flyers and sticking them on Bruce's desk, the Batcomputer, and the fridge. Surely, no one would forget.

Oh, you poor thing...no one came besides Alfred. Damian and Bruce had some sort of mission; Dick was in Bludhaven; Jason was too busy with the Outlaws, Tim had a Wayne Enterprise meeting, Barbara had made plans that day with Stephanie and Cass and they couldn't be changed. Had they not heard you? Did they not see the flyers? The only one had the decency to apologize was Damian, but he was your brother, your twin, of course, he didn't mean to miss it. You had won gold and your teammates had invited you to eat out. When you ran all the way to where your family was supposed to be, you only saw Alfred with a beautiful flower bouquet.

Having seen your disappointed face, he quickly made a mental note to scold everyone later tonight and tried to cheer you up.

"Marvelous, miss Y/n! Simply wonderful. I don't think I had ever been delighted by such a choreography before" He praised and you took it to heart, giving him a smile. That night he allowed you to stay later, having one of your teammate's mother bring you back from the restaurant.

This didn't change over time. Competitions and practices with Alfred only. After that first competition, Damian would try to at least go to your practices but that lessened as time passed and he was needed as Robin. Forgotten competitions turned to forgotten birthdays it seemed. After a year, when your birthday came around, you were ecstatic knowing that your favorite day of the year and you would celebrate it with your favorite person in the whole world. That day, your friend's parents had asked Alfred if they could surprise you in the morning with something special and then leave you in the Manor during the afternoon so that you would have time with your family. Seeing how loved you were outside of your family, Alfred agreed.

You were positive that your day was going to be perfect. Damian had woken you up and you both exchanged gifts first thing in the morning, just like you did in the League. He had gotten you a new pair of skates and you had gotten him a bunch of new art supplies. You ate breakfast with Damian and forced Alfred to sit with you both and eat as well. You went along with your day, having Alfred tell you that you had a special surprise. He had taken you to the park where your friends and their parents awaited you with a surprise picnic. Soon the afternoon neared and you were in the limo telling Alfred about the wonderful morning you were having. To into in your story, you failed to see his worried and pitiful gaze. As you went into the Manor, hands full of gifts from your friends and cheeks hurting from laughing and smiling so much, you were met with a sight that broke your heart.

Damian blowing the candles of a cake with your entire family surrounding him, clapping and singing. Your face, just like your heart, fell. You look up at Alfred and whisper, "Did you know?"

To which he responded in a soft voice, "No, my dear, I was helping your friends plan your party. The bake, I did do, but I thought we would wait for you..."

With eyes glazed with unshed tears, you nodded and it took seeing Damian's small smile as Dick bearhugged him to know...you weren't part of them.

You had begun to separate yourself from them and Damian had noticed. He had tried to apologize for your birthdays but you wouldn't listen. What kind of person would forget their twin? After some time, he stopped trying. The ridge between you had started to grow and if you were being stubborn, he wouldn't waste his time.

---

Weeks passed. Months passed. And little old Y/n had been forgotten. Dick was always too busy and only knew how to say "Not now, kid." Jason would wave to you on occasion. You weren't sure if Tim was even aware that you still lived there. Cass only spared you a glance. Stephanie looked pained if you ever tried to talk to her. Barbara was too awkward around you. Bruce had never really tried much with you and that was clear from the start. Damian felt distant each day more and more. Your only solace was ice skating, Alfred, and your mom. Weeks after your birthday, you had sneaked out and contacted your mother. She arrived as soon as she could. She would never deny her baby girl. I mean, the world always wanted Damian, but she, she was hers. There, Y/n told her everything as she broke down into tears. She had been the perfect daughter and sister, yet it would never matter cause they didn't care. Talia, clearly bothered by this, promised to talk with Bruce and Damian yet Y/n reassured her that Alfred had tried so many times and it had never worked. With the promise of finding a solution that didn't involve Bruce or Damian, her mother left.

After a few weeks, Y/n would notice that the watching eyes of her mother would be on her during practice and competitions. It was good to have one parent there. She wouldn't be able to attend most of the time, but she made an effort. Alfred caught her once when she was giving you flowers and Y/n begged for him to keep it a secret.

It was good to have something.

---

Years passed. Birthdays were spent having breakfast with Alfred, avoiding her twin, out with her friends, and occasionally, sneaking out to see her mother. Y/n wasn't heartless, though. Every year she would sneak a present that normally came from her and their mother into Damian's room. He was still her beloved twin after all. She had gotten used to competitions with little company. Even when she had won an award for being a prodigious skater, it was Alfred, the flowers he had bought her, and the ones her mother had sneaked into her house. She was fine, she claimed. Being ignored and forgotten didn't sting her heart as much as it did before, and she definitely didn't cry every time one of her siblings passed by her and acted as if they bumped into a piece of furniture. Hearing Damian refer to Cassandra as sister and only call her by her name didn't shatter her heart, no it only made her so unfocused in practice that she fell in the middle of her choreography. Coming back home after a day with her friends and seeing all of the decorations for Damian's birthday didn't slowly kill her on the inside anymore, no she just played music super loud when she took showers so no one would hear her sobs.

The breaking point? Duke Thomas.

She didn't have something against him directly, no. It was his arrival. Seeing her supposed family, her twin, welcome him with open arms broke her absolutely. Seeing them dine with him, joke around with him, smile with him, celebrate with him, and love him shattered her. It had been five years of this torment and she couldn't bear it anymore. So...she made a call.

"Mother....I think I want to go home.."

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

[master-of-junk]

Pregnant with a Ghost

Mr. Crawling/Mr. Scarletella/Mr Silver x MC

I remember a webtoon where this happened and thought it’d be fun!

Enjoy~

(not proof read)

__________________________________________

🏮Mr. Crawling:

-You had noticed the change in your cycle but initially thought nothing of it. It wasn’t until you woke up one morning and threw up a few times that it dawned on you.

-Of course Mr. Crawling has noticed you acting a bit odd. He was worried that you kept waking up and getting sick. He almost brought the nurse to look at you! But every time he asked, you would just kiss his forehead and smile telling him you were fine.

-It wasn’t until you started showing that you couldn’t brush him off. That’s when you sat him down and explained the best you could what was happening. It took a while but eventually he understood that the both of you had made one being.

-He was unsure of how it would play out but he did his best to reassure you! Every time you looked worried, got sick, or had troubles, he would poop up beside you to reminded you “Together.” He would even disappear to find things you mentioned you had been craving! He was actually really good at finding things.

-He noticed the things you began gathering and did some collecting of his own! He’d find small toys and soft items like blankets that he thought you’d like. He’d also try his best to help you assemble things and prepare.

-When it came time for the actual birth he was almost sent into a panic. Watching you scream and struggle to push worried him. He held onto tightly and did his best to soothe you. Combing his fingers through your hair, peppering you with kisses, and holding your hand.

-You half expected him to not even care about the baby but once the baby was born he seemed oddly fixated on it! To your relief the baby looked to be alive, healthy, and mostly human? Skin glowing healthy and a detachable heart beat. Though you could immediately see the resemblance between the baby and its father.

-Mr. Crawling was in love for the second time! Adoring your child and always keeping an eye on them. How could he not love them? As you explained it- this creature was half of him and half of you! They were amazing by all accounts and Mr.crawling sent chills down your back when he came to you at one point asking “Another?”

__________________________________________

🩸Mr. Scarletella

- Of course he knows what’s gonna happen before it happens. He doesn’t tell you on purpose he also has been hooked on creampies since being introduced.

-To be fair though, he didn’t think he it was possible either, he had some knowledge of human reproduction. Nonetheless, when he found you sobbing in the bathroom, he was overjoyed to find out there would soon exist a child that would tether you to him forever!

-During the pregnancy he was overwhelmingly clingy but oddly attentive. Anything you need, just snap your fingers and he’d get it for you in a heartbeat!

-Though he barely let you do anything. You wanted to assemble the baby furniture? Don’t blink because he’ll have it all built and taken care of before you can even dare to lift a finger.

-You also weren’t allow to leave his sight. He had you constantly in arms reach. Whatever you needed, you could have it and enjoying while still sitting in his lap.

-You were scared to death that you would give birth to the antichrist given Mr. Scarletella’s background but to your surprised you where given a healthy human- appearing baby. The only real surprise was that the baby came out with bright red hair. It almost made you giggle seeing the likeness he resembled to his dad.

-Mr. Scarletella would do anything to protect you and his baby. You can be he’ll always be there- on the first day of school, sporting events, graduation- it’s just overwhelming creepy when people see him standing in the background of your pictures!

__________________________________________

🩶Mr. Silver

-He did it in the name of science.

-He wanted to conduct research to see whether or not you could get pregnant.

-When you came to him with the pregnancy test and explained your symptoms, he was overjoyed and excited that it was a success!

-Of course he had grown fond of you- which was why he was afforded this opportunity- he would do everything in his power to make sure your pregnancy went as smoothly as he could manage.

-He insists on doing all your check ups and tests. He will bribe you with snacks you had been craving (He trades body parts with Mr. Gap to secure the treasures that seem to make you so happy)

-When you go into labor all hands are on deck! He’s the one helping you deliver the baby. Being dead- he finds the making of life absolutely fascinating, he views you in a more special light after open his world to such feats.

-He spends a lot of time with the child, running tests and taking notes, and occasionally trying to teach them from what you’ve observed. It was cute to see him trying to teach the kid about his research though you had to keep an eye on him or he’d get too ahead of himself.

-He considers your child together one of his greatest achievements. He feels a deeper connection with the kid when he sees his own likeness and your likeness in them.

[a-pastel-edgelord]

You are the closest thing Atsumu's ever had to a best friend, Osamu knows. His brother's faults were often so visible to other kids that it drove them away. Not you though. You simply laughed and called Atsumu a jerk. The rest is history.

Osamu watches from his place on the bench as Atsumu sets up for a spike serve, six steps, the toss, the jump and--

"Don't fuck it up!" Your voice jeers.

Atsumu misses, spectacularly. The ball ricochets off the back wall with a stellar thwump that rings a brief silence into the gym. Osamu sees his brother spin around, a vein in his neck throbbing as he starts to unload on you.

"YOU MOTHERF—"

"Imagine not getting the service ace because the opposite team heckles you!" You cut him off with a jovial smile. "How lame would that be?"

"YOU SCRUB! GET OVER HERE. I'LL KILL YA!"

And off the two of you go, shrieking insults at each other. Osamu makes no move to get out of his seat. Not for the first time, he considers how this strange game of tag could be its own spectator sport. Suna sits next to him, the middle blocker's eyes flitting to the current source of entertainment.

"Not gonna record this shit?"

"No, s'not nearly as entertaining as watching the two of you beat up on each other." Atsumu manages to trap you in a headlock, driving his knuckles into your scalp for a noogie as you kick at his legs. "How long have they been together anyhow?" The question is asked so flippantly, Osamu almost misses it.

"Hah? They're not datin', Suna." That's right. The two of you aren't dating. Not once had Atsumu ever expressed that kind of interest in you, and the same seems to be true in reverse. No longing stares. No pining.

"That so? Could have sworn they were." Suna glances over, his usual apathetic expression almost perfectly in place. However, Rintaro Suna is the closest thing Osamu has to a best friend.

Osamu's mouth goes dry. "Drop it, Sunarin."

Suna holds his stare for another beat before turning away. "You deserve to have what you want, Samu."

"I mean it."

"So do I."

Osamu fights to keep his face in check, fights to restrain himself like always. To hold back just enough so that he doesn't lose his temper. It should be easier by now, to suffer the pointed remarks Suna makes with grace. However, Suna had been the one to witness the smallest of exchanges between Osamu and you. And then, the motherfucker had managed to put two and two together. So here Osamu sits, watching his brother horseplay with you.

You. The one person he could trust Atsumu with, the one person who would be so good for him to fall for... is the same person who crashed through Osamu's walls and took a seat within the inner sanctum of his affections.

Osamu Miya is in love with his brother's best friend and Atsumu would never forgive him for it if he found out.

[waves-against-a-cliff]

After the end - Post-apocalypse Omegaverse AU

Summary - You won't be cornered in your territory and that's final. You begin to make little presents for your trespassers should they dare to enter your woods. Meanwhile, the four alphas find something very interesting...

Tags - Omegaverse (duh), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, non traditional dynamics, all of the 141 are alphas, you're an omega. Eventual smut, dub-con, knotting, mating press, polyamory, alphas love alphas. 141 x reader. The reader is officially a bad ass

Prologue

You stared down at the nest you had created and suddenly felt disgusted and angry. These alphas have stepped onto your territory and made you react like this. Three years of near bliss, despite the struggles, gone. The anger rolled over you in waves, it boiled your blood to the point you felt hot all over your body.

No. You weren't about to cower in your cabin and let some stupid alphas wander all over your territory. You were going to do something about it. You marched back towards your living room and opened one of the closets on the side of the hallway. You grabbed the bag full of supplies and swung it over your shoulder then looked at the shotgun leaned against the wall.

You hesitated only for a moment before you grabbed it too. Even in the times before the world ended you hadn't been one for conventionality. You preferred to be alone on your own property living your own life. And no alpha or beta, whether back then or now, was going to take this from you. You shoved the extra ammunition into your pockets and unbarred your door.

The cold winter air nipped at your skin and distantly you could still smell their combined scents. You pulled stuffing from a torn apart pillow and stuffed it up your nose. Happy hunting indeed, you thought as you stepped off into your piece heaven that would become their hell.

"Hey captain," Gaz said as they wandered through the very small town. It had likely been abandoned for ages. The first thing Gaz had noticed was that the windows were smashed in but the doors boarded up. Then he noticed the marks, spray paint in different symbols meaning something or another. "I think this place has been completely stripped bare."

Price hummed thoughtfully and turned to look around at the other buildings. All of them in similar states of disrepair but all with symbols sprayed onto them. He turned to his team, and contemplated their next steps. "Do you think they might still be around?" Ghost spoke up finally.

Price glanced at his lieutenant. They had stuck together when the entire world had completely gone down. First the electricity and then a disease. It apparently didn't take much else to throw the world into chaos. People killed people all the time before but not even Ghost had been prepared for the level of depravity some people dove to. Kidnapping local omegas, killing betas or hunting alphas for sport. Blowing up buildings and ransacking stores.

They had all stuck together as a pack since that was what they had always done. They wandered from place to place and it had taken them a little over a year to make it back to the UK. Bonds grew stronger and their ruts continued. They were all each other's support. Price considered the facts in front of them.

"Negative. I don't think whoever did this is still around," Price said as he eyed the pharmacy. The only building not having been closed off or marked with an 'x'. "Soap, Gaz, go investigate the pharmacy, me and Ghost will try to find any other buildings not marked."

They wandered around the town for a bit with Gaz and Soap meeting back up not long after they had departed. "Over tae counter medicine like Advil but nae much else," Soap tossed Ghost the bottle who looked over it.

"Not expired yet. Good find."

"Wait," Gaz suddenly said and sniffed the air. Everyone paused, Gaz had the best nose of them all. Able to sniff out any scents even days old. He walked over to a telephone pole that had a red smear on it and sniffed with his nose almost on the old blood.

He felt his cock chub up his pants immediately at the scent. At first it smelled like sweat and dirt but underneath that was a tangy, sour then sweet like a granny smith apple or a green grape, scent. An unmistakable smell of omega.

Gaz turned to the three other alphas, "There's an omega around." He grinned.

Hehe I'm gonna have fun writing this

Liked my fic? Buy me a Nutella jar

I do not give any permissions to repost my work, use it in AI, translate my work or any other thing. All rights reserved with me.

[crushedcoffeecups]

okay but imagine being a student of Saiki Kusuo's class. how fuckin weird would it be?

there's this guy, Saiki, that you don't know very well, but seems to be completely average in EVERY way. like, concerning average. you genuinely know nothing that he likes or dislikes or is particularly good or bad at. the only thing that sticks out about him is his weird hair clips and his tinted glasses. oh, and all the people that surround him

the weird, big, loud guy that no one really likes is his best friend. he basically follows Saiki around. one time Saiki made a completely to scale statue of him for a class fair.

the kid with a hero complex that is constantly going on about some shadow organisation and fantasy world is also his friend. the one that rips all of his clothes and always wears bright red bandages over his arms. he also follows Saiki around like they've been best friends since childhood. sometimes he talks about the both of them being soldiers in some army.

one day a psychic medium who can see ghosts and guardian spirits transfers to your school. the next day you see him hanging off of Saiki. what is it about this guy that attracts all these people? he doesn't even seem to talk to them. he's apparently the vice president of the medium's occult club.

the perfect dream girl of your class that everyone loves is weirdly obsessed with him. constantly trying to pair up with him in class. they've been seen on multiple dates together and members of the kokomins seem hate him. you're pretty sure they tried to kidnap him one time. he doesn't even seem to like the girl.

the over-enthusiastic class president that everyone respects is also his friend. you're pretty sure Saiki doesn't play any sports, but apparently he joined him on a tennis camp over the holidays. you heard that he hit a tennis ball so hard he sunk a boat.

an ex-delinquent joins the school, and immediately tried to be friends with Saiki. within a week he has joined the large group that follows Saiki around. one of your friends apparently saw the two of them taking motorcycle lessons.

the poor girl in class, the one with a dozen jobs who's constantly searching for food? yeah, she's friends with him too. one time you walk past a cafe she works at and see him inside, talking to the owner. what does he have to do with the cafe? and why was she wearing a maid dress? there's rumours in the school that the both of them took shady clinical trials over the holidays.

also, the girl who has a new crush every week gets weirdly into him for a while. you see her try a bunch of classic cliches to try to win him over. none of it works, but she still hangs around him for some reason.

a super rich guy shows up to your school and demands to date the beloved perfect girl. no idea why, but Saiki seems to some part to play in the weird love triangle. later on, you see Saiki and his friends visit the rich guys house.

a fortune telling gyaru joins your school, insisting that Saiki is her soulmate. the two are polar opposites, yet seem attached at the hip, along with that spiritual medium for some reason.

another new transfer (why does your school get so many transfers?) who never seems to shut up insists on following Saiki around. apparently they're childhood friends? they don't seem very friendly.

that famous actor, the one who is in everything on tv? you see him yelling at Saiki one day. something about a sister? you don't have any idea how they even crossed paths in the first place

on a random school day you overhear some of Saiki's friends talking about their trip to Britain together. did they really travel that far for just a weekend?

one day you see Saiki walking around with a young man with a weird headband. he looks familiar somehow. you could've sworn you've seen him on some science program or something.

you've seen Saiki walking around plenty of times. he walks everywhere it seems, and gets to places at a pace that is logically impossible. doesn't he have a motorcycle license?

his parents seemed perfectly ordinary when you met them, if a little too lovey-dovey. how is their son so different?

the dude never seems to change his clothes. obviously he does, seeing how they never get dirty or damaged. you guess he just wears the same thing on repeat.

you see him out and about with a little boy. probably babysitting. the kid keeps calling him by the name of some superhero.

the school brings in a magician one day. he greets Saiki like an old friend and calls him 'master'. you had no idea they knew each other, or that Saiki liked magic.

you've only known of this guy for a year, yet it seems like so much longer. it feels like too much has happened for the school year to have not ended yet. when did all those people transfer again?

feel free to add to the idea!

[norrisainz33]

Best in Show || CS55 & CL16

☆ summary: charles’ sister is headed to the olympics and she’s ready to bring things to the next level with her fwb carlos

☆ pairing: carlos sainz & olympic!leclerc!reader

☆ f/c & warnings: none; slightly suggestive & terribly translated french

☆ requested: yes!! thanks for your request 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

scuderiaferrari has posted a video

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user3: i don’t understand how all of the leclerc’s are so perfect and talented

user1: the leclerc brothers are so 🤤

user2: princess of monaco about to eat up the competition at the olympics

user8: wait that’s insane only 6 athletes? the uk sent 327… y/n must be really good

user2: she is!! she’s been to the show jumping world cup AND she won the jumping international in monte carlo (both huge accomplishments especially at her age)

user4: their genes are strong and full of sporting talent huh

user24: they should’ve gotten carlos in on this interview. he loves talking about y/n

user18: no fr he very clearly has a crush on her

ynleclerc has made a post

liked by charlesleclerc, scuderiaferrari, visitmonaco, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, and 879,001 others

ynleclerc: did someone say ,, olympics? get ready to watch your favorite duo (me and [horse’s name]) take on paris 😉

view all 876 comments

user6: HI Y/N (louder than everyone else)

user7: she’s so unserious i love her

charlesleclerc: and why did you have to post the last photo

ynleclerc: because i love it frère [brother]

arthurleclerc: why didn’t i make the olympics announcement post

ynleclerc: bc you refused to put on the glasses bebe

user11: the royal family of monaco is so beautiful

juliaanalvarez: looking forward to seeing you in paris

ynleclerc: you better cheer me on julián

user88: ik carlos is shaking in his boots. he’s got competition it seems

user99: no y/n anyone but a soccer player

carlossainz55: congratulations on making it to the olympics y/n 😍

ynleclerc: thanks carly 🤭

user22: CARLY DNSKSJF

user18: i ship y/n and carlos so hard

use r23: day 124 of wondering why they aren’t together

ynleclerc has made a post

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charlesleclerc, yourbff, landonorris, francisca.cgomes, and 534,230 others

ynleclerc: don’t worry everyone - the party has arrived in paris and we already made it through the first round 🇲🇨

view all 546 comments

user12: oh thank goodness (i wasn’t worried)! congratulations on an incredible first round

user13: what do i have to do to be that horse

landonorris: when are you gonna let me take a ride on ya?

charlesleclerc: mate that’s my sister

landonorris: i was talking abt the horse

ynleclerc: i hate you landonorris

landonorris: no you don’t ma cherry

ynleclerc: CHÉRIE

landonorris: 😘😘

user29: lando is so real for this

user24: impatiently waiting for carlos to get here

alexandrasaintmleux: the prettiest girl in all of paris. i am so proud of you 🤍

ynleclerc: please get your beautiful self here quicker 😫

carlossainz55: paris is looking real good these days 😍

ynleclerc: you should come find out just how good it looks 😏

user23: whoa get a room

arthurleclerc: please stop flirting

texts between you and carlos

ynleclerc has added to their story

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user77: my god you’re gorgeous

user99: now who … sent you those flowers ms y/n? was it charles? was it julian? was it carlos? i won’t spill the beans if u tell me i promise

user34: i’m rooting for you y/n!! you and [horses name] are going to crush it

landonorris: i know i didn’t send you flowers… so who did?

ynleclerc: wait… you didn’t send these?

landonorris: y/n/n don’t play with me. was it him?

ynleclerc: yes 🤭

landonorris: I KNEW IT. so you guys together or?

landonorris: DONT LEAVE ME ON READ TF

charlesleclerc: y/n/n - i only sent you the white ones… who are the others from?

ynleclerc: my adoring fans!

charlesleclerc: arrête! [stop it] we both know that is not the case

charlesleclerc: just tell me who they are from. i’ll be cool about it

ynleclerc: no you won’t charlie 🤍

arthurleclerc: charles sent me - tell me who those are from

ynleclerc: no! hope that helps bebe 😘

arthurleclerc: are they from a certain spanish driver or an argentinian footballer?

alexandrasaintmleux: your brothers are insufferable sometimes…. but don’t worry i didn’t tell them who sent those gorgeous flowers 😍🤭

ynleclerc: my girl 😘

user87: wagering a bet that those flowers are from carlos

ynleclerc has made a post

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ynleclerc: obviously not the result i was hoping for. we tapped the last bar on the last jump as we were about to set the fastest time. i’m gutted but at the same time i am immensely proud of everything [horse’s name] and i have accomplished. we are bringing home monaco’s only medal from the entire olympic games and for that i am elated. i think i prefer silver anyway 🥈🤍

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user67: being the reason monaco is getting a medal is still an insane serve

user87: my favorite horse girl

landonorris: a medal is a medal - proud of you punk

ynleclerc: thank you bobby

juliaanalvarez: congratulations on a hard won medal!

ynleclerc: merci julian! glad we got to catch up 🤍

user57: back!! back i said 🤺

carlossainz55: y/n/n you gave it everything you had out there and you have so much to be proud of. i am in awe of you

ynleclerc: carlos 🥹

user55: this is so sweet i’m gonna throw up

user23: day 145 of wondering why they aren’t together

arthurleclerc: good job or whatever sis

ynleclerc: thanks loser

carmenmundt: you are an absolute inspiration! congratulations on following your dreams and making them come true 🤍

ynleclerc: i love you so much carmen

charlesleclerc has made a post

liked by ynleclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly, scuderiaferrari, visitmonaco, landonorris and 987,654 others

charlesleclerc: we made it to paris in time to see y/n in the final event. ma petite sœur je suis si fière de toi. je suis pour toujours et à jamais ton plus grand soutien. [my little sister, i am so proud of you. i am forever and always your biggest supporter]

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scuderiaferrari: congrats y/n on a hard fought silver! we are so proud of you

user16: wake up ! hottest photo dump of the summer just dropped 😭😫😍

user37: wow arthur is eating charles up in the 4th slide

ynleclerc: merci charlie. je t'aime jusqu'à la lune et retour. merci d'être là [thank you charlie. I love you to the moon and back. thank you for being there]

charlesleclerc: je t'aime y/n/n. i wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.

ynleclerc: btw who even invited pierre?

pierregasly: why can’t i turn up and support my favorite leclerc?

ynleclerc: i’m your favorite?

pierregasly: no , not even close

francisca.cgomes: i’m sorry y/n! he simply insisted upon tagging along 🙄

ynleclerc: i’ll let it slide because i got to see you my love 😍

user34: so special that they were all able to make it to paris

alexandrasaintmleux: my favorite girl in the whole world is an olympic medalist! monaco and all of us are so proud 🤍

ynleclerc: don’t make me cry 🥹

user76: monegasque royal family is my roman empire

ynlecerc has posted to their story

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user55: I KNOW THATS MY MAN CARLOS

user87: you ain’t slick id recognize that hand and arm anywhere. that is mr carlos sainz jr

francisca.cgomes: your brother resorted to calling me to see if i knew who was in this post 🙄

ynleclerc: of course he did…. he’ll find out soon enough 🤭

charlesleclerc: anything you want to tell me? looks a lot like a teammate of mine

ynleclerc: nothing i want to tell you charlie :)

carlossainz55: had a wonderful evening with you mi amor. let’s do it again.. and again and again and again.

ynleclerc: i had an amazing time. i’m already looking forward to our next date!! you may as well just come back to my flat now idk why you even left in the first place

carlossainz55: didn’t want to come across too clingy

ynleclerc: good thing i like clingy! get back here 😏

carlossainz55: yes ma’am

user27: begging to know how much charles and arthur are stressing over this story

ynleclerc has made a post

liked by scuderiaferrari, yourbff, carlossainz55, carmenmundt, landonorris, visitmonaco, and 789,465 others

ynleclerc: yes, you all guessed it! he’s mine 😘

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user13: someone check on the user who has been counting the days since they started flirting

user23: i’ve been summoned!! all i can say is thank god

landonorris: it’s about time

arthurleclerc: i called it

user99: old money carlos is perfect for our equestrian goddess

charlesleclerc: so this is how i find out?

ynleclerc: you did say you were one of my fans so… yes?

charlesleclerc: you are on my last nerve

carmenmundt: adorable 😍

carlossainz55: my gorgeous girl 😘

ynleclerc: my man my man my man

francisca.cgomes: time for a double date 🤍

pierregasly: charles says i’m not allowed

ynleclerc: who said you were invited pierre?

user47: vibes in the ferrari garage in zandvoort are gonna be wild

user98: carlosy/n truthers our time has come

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: another installment of olympic reader wahooo! slowly but surely making my way through my requests. liked and reblogs are always appreciated

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[bbokicidal]

Not A Want, But A Need - Perv!SKZ

A small series of Perv!SKZ Headcanons

Pairing: OT8 x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Sexual behavior (MDNI), Perverted behavior (obviously), panty stealing, up the skirt pics, one-sided masturbation, meandom!Seungmin (oops)

Chris :

Chris likes to consider himself a gentleman. He's respectful, responsible, kind to women and men alike - treats everyone with polite gestures -

But he really can't hold himself back when you wear that little pink dress that hugs your ass so right.

He swears he'll delete them later but he never does, taking quick pictures up the skirt of your dress when he stands behind you in the elevator.

You know why he never deletes them? Because he uses them as soon as he gets home - sometimes in the company bathroom if he really can't wait that long. Tugging his cock and whimpering as he bites down on the fabric of his shirt, staring through lidded eyes at the picture of your lacy black panties.

God, he's obsessed.

Minho :

He's going to have you sitting in his lap as often as possible. You're one of his best friends - who started as a backup dancer for the group - and he knows nobody finds it too suspicious that he has you in his lap often.

The worst they can think is that he's romantically interested in you - which, maybe he is.

But he really just wants you there so he can feel the way your ass pushes down against his cock in his sweats. He's in love with the feeling and if you move just right his head will roll back and his eyes will roll with them, slipping shut at the pushing right up against his length.

After he figures out just how much he likes having you in his lap, he'll keep his hands on your hips often as well. Even when just standing next to you - maybe one occasion letting his hand drag over your ass on 'accident.'

Changbin :

There's little shame on his part.

He loves to stare at your tits.

He starts inviting you to the gym just so he can see how they bulge in your sports bra and push at the seams, the soft skin bubbling and making him want to touch so badly. And maybe he does on occasion, letting his hands brush the underside of your chest while you're doing box squats.

He swears he's just helping you with your form - you need to arch your back a little more. Push your chest into his waiting hands. Please. For him?

Hyunjin :

He's very sly with it.

He's so, so very sly with the way he steals your panties.

That precious white pair with the cherries on them were the first he knew he needed to have, shoving them into his pocket after you'd gone to the bathroom and given him at least three minutes of free time to roam around your room.

The lace pair he saw a peek of when you sat down at a party once were next.

And he won't return them. Not when they're covered in his cum and he'd feel dirty giving them back to you that way.

And washing them would get rid of your scent. So... He'll just keep them.

Jisung :

He's the only member who's a bit shy about his actions.

He feels wrong about it but he needs it so badly.

He just loves your hands so much. Touch him a little more, yeah?

He'll do things like sit too close so your hands will brush his thigh when you talk and move them around - or stand up abruptly beside you so that your hand will bump his hips.

Or he'll just straight up hold your hands whenever he can, refusing to let go until they're down near his hips and your knuckles brush his zipper as he drops his hold on you. It's always subtle - but definitely there.

Oh, and of course later he'll picture your pretty hands jerking him off instead of his own. He's embarrassed about it but he'll look at photos he's got of you two together as well - zooming in on your rings and bracelets to better picture how you'd look between his thighs and holding onto him.

Felix :

The most cocky mf.

He's the type to rest his hand on your thigh as much as he possibly can. At first it's gentle rubbing of his thumb or a brush of his knuckles here and there,

But then it's him squeezing the supple skin under his ringed fingers as he chats with you or others. His actions are all but second nature now, but he's definitely chubbing up in his jeans just at the feeling of your thighs under his palms.

If he's feeling real bold (or a little tipsy), he'll slap your thighs or maybe - if you're really lucky - bite them to leave little teeth marks.

He'd do anything to have them pressed around his head while he eats you out, but he knows right now it's only a dream. So instead he'll just keep his subtle touches and rubs going until that day comes.

Seungmin :

So sly about it but also extremely bold and straightforward.

He passes it off as playful fighting.

The type to slap - Yes, I said slap. - your tits and ass whenever you pass by him or are bugging him. He's use to you slapping his arms or chest and laughing in annoyance at his antics, so he thought he could get away with doing the same to you. And he was right.

It's perceived as play fighting and just two best friends fucking around with each other - but he's secretly getting so hard it hurts in his jeans at the way your tits and ass jiggle when he hits them.

On a couple occasions he's taken sneaky videos of him slapping your ass while you walk together so he had it for later use.

And of course there were the few select times he full on spanked you while the two of you were bickering.

Jeongin :

Shy about it - but if he's all dressed up or just performed or the likes - he's a looooot more bold.

Jeongin won't admit it out loud, but he likes your lips. A lot.

He has so many pictures of the two of you together just because he loves the way you purse your lips all cute-like.

And he's grown a habit of touching them, too. Wiping sauce off of them when you eat meals together, brushing off crumbs or even just shushing you with his index against your bottom lip so you hush up all pretty. (And he loves seeing you obey.)

And he'll never forget the time he was drinking with you and when he shushed you, you took his finger into your mouth to suck over it. He'll cherish that memory forever - the way his cock tented in his sweats and he had to go to the restroom to jerk off so hard it hurt. He's never come so fast in his life.

[fictionalmenxyn]

Frat!rafe is the type… (NSFW and language)

Frat!rafe is the type to greet you with a dap up then kiss each knuckle to show your not a bro but his girl.

Frat!rafe is the type to keep his arm loosely around your shoulder or waist till either a guy he doesn’t know or doesn’t like gets close. Then he be gripping on to you for dear life!

Frat!rafe is the type to occasionally give you temple kisses or cheek kisses around his frat guys. But pecks on the lips around other guys. Thinking you can’t tell, but you most definitely can.

Frat!rafe is the type to hug you from behind if you’re finishing up in class or you’re both working on a project together. He’d try to get your attention while you work.

Frat!rafe is the type of show off that he’s only showing of to you. If you both play sports, best believe he’s trying his hardest to show you his skills. If he sees you watching, he’s definitely sending a wink your way or a funny yet cringy mouthing ��call me’ and doing the phone gesture. Already knowing he’s got you.

Frat!rafe is the type to get to know your friends better, so he knows you through and through. If you’re a big person when it comes to friendships. Best believe frat!rafe is getting close to your friends and becoming their friends. Showing you he respects your friendships and your beliefs. Also showing he can be supportive on your opinions and what you want.

Frat!rafe is the type to listen to the gossip!! This guy lives for it. He definitely won’t show it. But only you can know he loves it. So your daily trips to the frat house, can also brokke gossip seshs! He’d make sure to have your favourite snacks. Favourite drink. Everything. Just so he can know what girl hooked up with what guy or who fought who.

Frat!rafe is the type to practically cradle you in his arms as he listens to how your day was. Or if you have random rants. He’s a good listener, only for you. If it was one of the boys. It’s in one ear, out the other. But for you? Talk all day, he’s got ears for you. He’d nod, occasionally brush strands of hair out of your face. Occasionally kissing your forehead. Add little comments or thoughts, sometimes questions. He was smart when it came to you. He knew you better than yourself. So he’d know when to ask questions, to keep you talking longer. He loved your voice and your thoughts.

Frat!rafe is the type to buy small gifts, knowing you didn’t do expensive (unless you do, then that’s a different story). He’d buy small trinkets or things that ‘reminded him of you’. Just an excuse to splash his cash on you. Even if it only costed five dollars. If you wanted a piece of clothing or something that you wanted but was over a ‘budget’ you had. Expect it at your sorority doorstep a week later. A personalised card on the inside. ‘Don’t even try to give me a lecture about buying you stuff, I wanted to, love you loads, baby. From RF <3’

Frat!rafe is the type to ask you if you’re okay halfway through and at the end of each ‘intimate’ sessions. ‘You alright? Didn’t go too rough on ya?’ ‘Sure? I know you like and shit, but I don’t wanna hurt you, baby…’

Frat!rafe is the type to change positions, let you finish in your favourite position. While he’ll finish in his. So neither of you could complain, but he thought it was sweet of him to be THAT thoughtful.

Frat!rafe is the type to make you finish the same amount of goals/points you scored if you play sports. Like if you scored three goals in soccer, best believe you’re having a good night.

Frat!rafe is the type to have the sloppiest yet downright best sex if he won a game in football. Just know you’re both having a good night if he wins. Just cause HE won the game, doesn’t mean you aren’t getting a treat either.

Frat!rafe is the type to give you a small peck on the lips after rough sex. Cause he feels a little bad sometimes after you ask to go harder. You asked, ok? So? He still will feel bad. Even if you enjoyed it. You’re his girl. He wants to make you feel good. Even if it’s rough. He’ll still treat you like the princess you are.

Frat!rafe is the type to take long showers with you. Both sexually and non. He just likes the warm water running over you both. He LOVES washing your hair. He loves when you use your small thumbs on his large back muscles. Groaning and loaning at the magic your fingertips hold.

Frat!rafe is the type to only come to you for medical help or massages. Go to the team’s medic? No. Go to the college’s physiotherapist? Hell no. Not when he’s got his girl training for those things. He’s her test subject. And he still benefits from it. So it’s a win-win.

Frat!rafe is the type to cuddle you. So much, it’s cute, but not funny to him. Like it’s his lifeline. Just got in his room? Get on the bed and lay there so he can lay on you. Staying the night? Cuddles. Watching movies? Cuddles. Standing there doing nothing? Cuddles from behind. This guy loves cuddles till the end of time. AND WONT ADMIT IT. EVEN IF ITS OBVIOUS.

Frat!rafe is the type to love his baby girl. Always and forever. He’ll show it in so many ways. Whatever way you want. He’ll show it. You’re his girl, his girl gets treated well. Very well..

[undreaming-fanfiction]

I love a good florist Steve, but what I love even more is a good but naturally bitchy florist Steve.

He'd have his own flower shop and years of dating experience under his belt. He is not just a good boyfriend, he is THE good boyfriend. Going to his shop isn't just to buy a bouquet of flowers, oh no. It's a whole relationship coaching thing, he teaches husbands to do better, gives courage to teenagers asking their crushes out, gives advice regarding flower language to elderly ladies who just want to be slightly passive-aggressive...you know, the normal thing.

He has a catalogue with flower pictures to help people who have no idea what the flowers are called, they just know they were orange and didn't easily wilt.

He shows a local teenager the cheaper but still fancy options and throws in a bunch of free flowers that aren't really up to his standards. "Okay, you say she likes pink flowers. Does she like things to be a bit more decorated or does she prefer simplicity? You don't know? Okay, can you describe what she normally wears? No, I'm not being creepy, but you can sometimes tell the person's preferences from their clothes. Now answer or leave dateless."

He chats with the elderly ladies of Hawkins when they ask for a flower to gift to their fellow church ladies when they host their meetings. He cackles when he hears some of their orders. "Oh wow, Ethel, a yellow hyacinth? Would you like a gift card with that, something like sorry you're such a jealous hag? No? Of course I know the meaning, it's my job."

"Are you expeting her to say yes to the date with that atrocity on your face? Yes, I know it's a moustache. But it's also an atrocity. Shave it and thank me later. Now, would you like a ribbon for that bouquet?"

And most of all, he grills the unlucky conservative men in Hawkins who come to him for flowers for their wives without any idea what they like. "I see, so you want something pretty. What does your wife like? Flowers? Well, that's not specific. What kind of dresses does she wear? Expensive? Can you tell me anything about your wife's personality? ...nagging. No, I can't just mix something together, unlike you, I take pride in gift giving. Okay. I don't think this is a shop for you. Yes, that's what I'm saying, I won't play a part in your wife's disappointment. Oh sure, go take your money elsewhere, but I can give you this advice for free - you married a unique human being, so treat her like one. And if you really want a happy marriage - maybe come back when you learn something about her as a person. No need for that language, have a good day, sir."

For those that are more receptive, he goes through their partners' personalities and hobbies, suggesting date options and absolutely roasting the bad ones. "A football match. When your girlfriend hates sports. I don't care if it's your boys playing, you can try telling her that this is important to you and you'll take her out another time, but if you try to pass this as a date, you'll be single before you say "sorry". A date is for you as a pair, not for you only."

But the best thing his shop brings him is Eddie Munson, who sneaks in, absolutely ready to be roasted, and asks for a bouquet of bright colorful flowers for his best friend Chrissy. "She just got divorced from her asshole husband and I want to show her that she can have nice things. Platonically. But she deserves so much more. Uh...she really loves warm colors, so maybe yellows and oranges? What are they called...gerberas! She likes gerberas! And she likes things to be a bit messy and imperfect, so maybe some leaves there as well? A green ribbon would be nice."

And Steve just beams at him as he gets to work and says "Oh wow. Whoever your partner is, they are so lucky if you remember all of these things even for your friends. Makes a guy jealous."

Eddie just wiggles his eyebrows at Steve and mutters, "that position's sadly open. Has been for a while. Interested?" and he almost faints against the counter when Steve turns around.

Eddie is ready to run.

But Steve just fluffs his hair, reapplies his lipgloss and asks: "Where do I apply?"