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seenoversundown · 3 days ago

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For Death Or Glory : Epilogue

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut (you know the drill) Fluff, Romantic Themes, Drinking / Alcohol (once more- it’s a bar) Pining, Harmless Bullying, Swearing, Wholesome Family Fun (which is crazy to say considering what’s coming next)

Smut Warnings: Kissing, Oral Sex, Hands going places, Penetrative Sex | they’re both switches - do with that what you will

Word Count: 10.6k

Summary: It’s the bar’s second anniversary and a certain couple’s first.

Author's Note: I bet you thought we were done here 😉 You already know that I couldn’t let this end that easily! I knew from the start that I would have an epilogue for you, but as I was working on it, I had a thought— luckily for you.. I wrote it in. If you notice the word count, this is astronomically long compared to the rest of the story; I decided to add basically a second chapter once I had the idea. (If you need to pause, there’s a definitive break that you could absolutely stop at! I’ll add a couple ***’s so you know when)

Consider the second half like a bonus chapter if you will 🥰

Anyway this is getting long, I love this story, these two, and you guys for loving them with me. I hope you giggle and kick your feet over this monster of a chapter 🖤 this is definitely not the last you’ll be seeing of these two, but for now, let’s just enjoy this together 🥹

Forever - Noah Kahan "I won’t be alone for the rest of my life, I’ll build a boat for when the river gets high."

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One year later..

“That’s okay; just drive safe, honey.”

I tucked my phone back into my pocket, grabbed a few stray glasses, and rounded the corner behind the bar. Thankful that the bar isn’t busy at the moment, even though I know we’re mere seconds away from the chaos that’ll ensue.

Deciding to keep the tradition, the bar is only open until eleven tonight because of the holiday. All of our regulars will still make it a point to stop by tonight since it’s the floating anniversary of the official opening. I know there’s an actual date that we opened, but letting it change with the holiday every year is more fun to me.

It’s nice getting to spend a few hours just working with Josh while everyone else is wrapping up work or getting ready for tomorrow. It is funnier that they’ll all show up tonight, even though we’re about to spend the next two days together.

“What happened?” Josh asks, leaning against the bar.

I look over at him as I’m setting all the glasses into the dirty bin, telling him, “Oh, she’s fine,” and letting out a small laugh. “She hit traffic, but she’s almost here– just feels bad she’s ‘late.’ You know how Char is.”

He chuckles to himself, “Oh, that silly girl must have forgotten that everybody and their cousin is driving today.”

“I told her that I didn’t care when she got here anyway,” I tell him, giggling at the thought of her stressing over the time. “We have the whole weekend together; I’m not going to complain that she’s twenty minutes behind.”

Josh just smiles back at me for a second before breathing out, “It’s sweet that she still wants to soak up all the time she can with you, though.”

“I hit the jackpot with her for sure,” I let out quietly, checking the fridges to make sure everything was good. “Are you good for a minute? I just need to answer a few emails real quick.”

He shoos me away to my office, where I’ve sat to do a few admin things before it gets busy or Charlotte shows up. I mindlessly read through a few emails that can wait until after the holiday weekend but then start writing back to the more important ones. I know that I could realistically do these after she’s here but the last thing I ever want to do is be this level of distracted from her. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past year, it’s that I love my job, but I love her more.

I fell in love with Charlotte within three weeks, and she’s only proven to me that it was the greatest thing I could have let myself do. Despite the fact that we don’t live very close to each other, the days we aren’t physically together fly by. It still lets her have some independence, even though I would have asked her to move in the day we started dating. I’m so used to the chaos that I don’t think she could ever bother me.

Not that I have the most experience with relationships, but I would say that she is probably the most incredible girlfriend that exists. I still feel like I’m dreaming most days; the only downside is when she’s upset, and I can’t get to her fast enough. Not exactly proud of the few times that I’ve almost left the bar because she sounded a little too sad saying she missed me on the phone.

“Hi baby,” Char’s voice rings through my office.

“There she is,” slips out as I whip my head over to her. Quickly standing up, reaching for her hands as I got closer, I said, “I missed you.”

“I swear nobody knows how to drive today,” she tells me in between kisses. “Literally, everybody just kept slowing down even though nothing was happening!”

Chuckling at her, it’s precious when she’s worked up like this. Kissing her forehead gently before telling her, “Breathe honey, it’s over. You made it.”

“I know– you’re right,” She breathes out before quietly asking, “You’re sure your parents don’t mind me being here for Thanksgiving?”

“I think my mom would explode if you didn’t,” I told her. “Plus, I wouldn’t want you to spend the weekend alone.”

“I still don’t know what possessed my parents to plan a vacation during the holidays, but” she rolls her eyes with a laugh but squeezes my hands when she tells me, “I’m much happier to spend them with you.”

Kissing her a few more times before saying, “I’m just excited to have you here all weekend.”

Pulling her out into the bar, sitting in the booth that the rest of the family will stake claim over later. She sat across from me, telling me about her day since we were both fairly busy and hadn’t gotten to talk much throughout the day.

“Oh!” She pipes up. “I found this, and I thought you might enjoy it.” She hands me a folder with random paperwork, and I just look at her with my eyebrow raised. She giggles quietly, “Look at the corners, babe.”

I start reading all her little notes. This is what she was doing the whole time. Every page with the margins filled with little intrusive thoughts she must have been having; ‘hands, hands, hands,’ ‘pretty mouth,’ ‘he’s so cute I could cry.’ Random hearts surrounded some of them, with my name written out in cursive every few pages, like a girl in elementary school.

Thinking of all the times I would glance over at her, she would just be scribbling things down with a little smirk on her face. Or the way she would tuck pages away when she saw me coming over.

My heart swelled, seeing that she had been secretly feeling the same way. It always felt like there was something more than ‘friends with benefits,’ but I was so afraid to get my hopes up. I chuckle to myself, breathing out, “I love you so much.”

Met with silence– we haven’t actually said that to each other yet. Not that I didn’t want to, but we both just nervously danced around it. My eyes darted up to her, realizing what I said.

Her eyes are wide, “.. Jake.” I close the folder and set it in front of us. Shit. You’ve made it a whole year without letting it slip; that’s impressive enough, right?

“Char,” I start; it probably is about time I finally told her. “It sounds insane, but I’ve basically loved you since the day you walked in.”

She slowly blinked at me, “What do you mean? How?”

It truly feels like I have to just come clean with it at this point, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you after you left that day; something about you just stuck with me.”

“I felt like I ruined your whole day. You definitely seemed like you were panicking?”

“Oh, I was,” I laugh. “But I thought about you every day until you came back.”

“But—” she hesitates, looking down at the table for a second. “I cried in front of you, literally the second time we actually saw each other.”

I nod at her, “Oh, I know.”

“And I lied to you..”

“Hun,” I start, grabbing her hand. “I would do it all over again a million times if it meant I got you at the end of it.”

She just stares at me, and I watch her eyes as tears creep in. She looks up, trying to fight the inevitable.

I reach up, knocking the little tears off her cheeks like always, before telling her, “You don’t have to say it back. Don’t feel like you have to. I’ll gladly wait until–”

She cuts me off with a quiet, “I love you.”

The sound of it practically knocks the wind out of me; I knew from the beginning that she would probably take a while to say it in general or even just say it back because she was so hesitant about her feelings. I never wanted to pressure her into it, even though a year ago, with us standing out in the snow, I knew I was in love with her.

I slide out of my seat, take two steps to be next to her, squat down, and grab both of her hands.

“Can I say something to you? I don’t expect anything from you after,” I ask, looking up at her.

“Of course.”

I look at her for a split second before I finally let it out, “I’m so, so in love with you, Charlotte. I’ve been waiting for you to feel comfortable saying it because I never want to overwhelm you or push you away. I can’t imagine life without you at this point; you mean everything to me, honey.”

Her eyes are so soft, and her lip quivers a little as she looks back at me. She whispers, “You’re gonna make me cry.” She leans down to me, leaving a few gentle kisses on my lips.

“And you are far more than I could have ever dreamt of,” She says with a little sniff as she fights back the tears. “I’ve never known a love like yours. Some days I still don’t believe you’re real and that I’m lucky enough that you keep me around even when I’m such a pain in your ass.”

“You’re my favorite pain in the ass, though,” I tell her, kissing her knuckles gently. My heart is pounding as she’s telling me the sweetest things; it feels unbelievable that she feels the same way.

Her little giggle blesses my ears before she keeps going, her voice still breaking as she tells me, “I hate that you had to be let down so many times, but I’m so glad that every girl fumbled you, so now, I get you to myself.”

“I’ll be yours for as long as you’ll keep me,” I whisper to her, watching as her chin quivers. She let out a small ‘oh’ as her hand flew up to cover her mouth. Rubbing her legs for a second until she pulls me into a hug.

I kiss the side of her head before mumbling, “Happy anniversary, hun.” Leaning back and carefully wiping the tears from under her eyes, trying not to mess up her makeup. Quietly cooing, “Oh, my beautiful girl.”

“Baby, shhhh,” she laughs, looking up to try and avoid more tears.

I chuckle to myself, letting out, “Oh, I’m sorry. I meant, my absolute knockout—“

Her laugh cuts me off, which I would let happen any day—anything to see her smile.

I feel a tap on my back, bringing me back to real life. I turned, and honestly, I should have known.

“Hi, sweetheart,” my mom’s voice rings through the bar. Josh got it from somewhere. Her arms wrapped me in a hug, rocking me back and forth.

“I’m excited to see you too,” I laugh. She pulls back, brushing the hair out of my face like she always does, just staring at me for a second.

Her eyes soften as we look at each other; she looks like she wants to say something but holds it back. That’s weird. Gently moving me to the side, her excited voice is back, “Don’t think I didn’t see you!” Charlotte quickly stands up, also getting pulled into a hug.

“Mmmm, my other sweetheart,” she says, Char’s giggling as she gets the same treatment from my mom. “I missed you two.”

My parents immediately loved her when they met. Whether it was because they were so excited that I finally found someone or because Char is an incredible girl, who knows? Mom was especially over the moon about her when she discovered that they both enjoy baking and reading.

I was nervous at the idea of them meeting her, especially when we had barely even figured out what we were doing. But, the moment we walked into the house where they were staying, it went away. We took turns grabbing each other's hands for comfort because it was all still so fresh. It probably seems wild to introduce someone to your parents two days into the relationship, but I’ve never been so sure about someone.

My dad’s arm slides around my shoulders, pulling me into him for a second.

“Hey bud,” his voice is way calmer. “I see you’ve lost them.” He chuckles. I glance over as the two of them are fully in conversation, to the point that my mom has stolen my seat.

“Looks that way, huh?” I laugh, hugging him back. Nodding towards the bar, I ask, “Want a drink?”

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My dad kept us entertained for a bit as he sipped his drink, telling us about the trip to get here. They seem to have the worst luck with flying. I take the chance to slip out from behind the bar, and I sneak off into my office, pulling out my phone, but I quickly get distracted when I hear my mom’s voice.

“How are you doing sweets?”

I look over at her; she’s leaning against the door frame, her eyebrows raised. I tell her, “Curious about what you didn’t say to me earlier if we’re being honest.”

“You saw that, huh?” She scrunches her nose at me. I move closer to her so she won’t have to be loud. Her hand taps my chest a couple of times, letting out, “I forget how observant you are.”

“Mhm,” I hum back. “So, spill. What is it?”

She lets out a little sigh, “I’m not gonna be able to get through this.” Her eyes welled up almost instantly, “Being in love looks good on you, Sweetheart.”

“Oh?”

She grabs one of my hands and tells me, “I can just see how happy you are when you’re with her.” A tear sneaks out as she looks at me. “I’m just so glad you found someone who loves you the way you deserve.”

Squeezing my hand a few times, “You’ve always been the sweetest of the three of you.” She pauses to look up, trying to stop the tears. “I knew how badly you just wanted to find someone.”

“Mom,” I whisper, wiping her face off gently.

“I'm sorry—I'm just so proud of you. Between the bar and taking care of her, I just feel so lucky to watch the young man that you’ve become.”

My arms wrap around her, rubbing her back a little before mumbling, “Love you.”

“Love you, too.” She whispers before asking, “Why are you hiding in here?”

I lean back, smiling as I tell her, “Wanted to see if something got delivered.”

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As I’m helping run some drinks to people for Josh, I hear Against The Wind by Bob Seger playing throughout the bar. Dropping the fresh drinks off to the table, I turn around to see one of Chuck’s friends about to sit at the bar with an empty seat next to him. He must be waiting for him.

He’s an older gentleman; he definitely looks like he would have been a sailor of sorts. The idea hits me— where is my girlfriend? I think to myself, chuckling at what’s going to happen.

“Char- honey,” I yell to her as I walk over to the table; she’s sitting with Quinn, Willa, and Sam- the usual, but Mom is with them tonight.

Her eyes light up as I get closer, looking up at me, oh god, I’m such an ass. She lets out a quiet “Hi.”

Sliding into the booth next to her, my arm pulling her close to me. I point to the man, whispering to her, “Remember how I told you about the Old Port Pirate?”

“Shut up,” her hand flew up to cover her mouth. “Babe, you actually weren’t lying?”

I just shake my head, “Do you hear what’s playing right now?”

Looking at me with wide eyes, her jaw drops when she realizes, “Oh my god, it’s Bob.”

She’s so cute, wow. I quietly laugh before letting out, “And you didn’t believe me.” Shaking my head subtly, she will probably kill me if she finds out that he isn’t actually the pirate.

She leans close, kissing my cheek; the feeling of her lips on me still makes my heart skip. Her face lingers close to mine for a second, and she quietly says, “I’m sorry, baby. I won’t doubt you anymore.”

She can never find out.

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Glancing around the table, my mom has Sam and Willa entirely focused on whatever she’s telling them about, and Quinn has disappeared to the bar to talk to Josh. I steal a sip of Char’s drink, realizing it’s practically just water at this point, but before I get up, I have to tease her a little bit. If she thought I didn’t catch some of the little things she wrote down, she is sorely mistaken.

“So, I did see in your little notes that you think my ass is,” I pause to clear my throat dramatically, “Cute enough to take a bite out of?”

“The heart wants what it wants,” she breathes out, a soft smile forming. Her hand reached up to fix a piece of my hair that was flopped to the wrong side.

I lean in closer to her, whispering, “If you wanted to eat my ass, honey— all you had to do was ask.”

She barks out a laugh, whisper-yelling, “JACOB, WE’RE IN PUBLIC.” Her eyes darted over towards my mom and back to me.

“All I'm saying is communication is important in a relationship, and you already know I won’t say no to you,” I tell her, shooting her a wink as I stand up from the booth. “I’ll get you a fresh drink.”

“Wait—“ Her hand catches mine before I can grab her glass, tugging me to her. She gently kisses me, holding my jaw and wiping my lip off after. If she only knew, I literally couldn’t be bothered if she left any sort of lipstick, gloss, whatever on me—but it’s adorable that she does it, so I’ll never tell her. She quietly lets out, “I love you, baby.”

“Mmm, I don’t think I'll ever get tired of hearing that,” I mumble against her lips, kissing her once more before telling her, “I love you.”

I wander behind the bar to grab her some water; she’s been alternating all night, so she “doesn’t feel like dying” tomorrow. Before I can bring it back to her, Mel grabs it from me.

“I’m basically done for the night; I can deliver it for you,” she laughs out.

Glancing over at the time, it is nearly closing time already. I look back over at her, “You can be free. I’ll let Danny go too if you guys want to get home.”

“You’re the best,” she shoots me a little smile, dropping off Char’s water and immediately sliding into the booth with everyone.

I start picking up a little after Josh, which is fine because he has been hustling around for a bit now. But I feel his presence behind me as I’m wiping down some glasses to put back.

“Meant to tell you– I grabbed our mail earlier..” Josh mumbles to me. Quietly, he asks, “Did you buy a ring?”

“Mhm,” I hum back, turning to him.

He glances over at Char before asking, “Is it..?”

I just nod, watching his eyes light up.

Immediately, he tears up, letting out a quiet, “Oh my god—“

“Don’t cry,” I giggle. “I don’t know when it’ll happen; I just wanted to be ready. “

His hands landed on my arms, whispering, “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you,” I whisper back.

He just stares at me for a second, “She really is a good one.”

I look over at her as she hugs our Mom for probably the hundredth time today. Sitting with all our closest friends and family like she’s been here forever. They really took her in so quickly, which, given the situation when we met, was the most incredible thing they could have done. My eyes shift back to Josh, smiling as I tell him, “I think I’ll keep her around.”

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After saying our goodnights to the entire family practically, Char sat in her typical spot at the bar. Even after a year, nothing has changed with how we function. Whenever she comes down here for the weekends, she’ll just sit at the end of the bar if I have to close and pester me the entire time. And I would never ask for anything else.

“Will you make my drink?” She asks, batting her eyelashes at me. Like, I would say no.

“Well,” I glanced over at her, cocking an eyebrow. “You’re in luck; I’m the only option.”

Quickly mixing everything together for her, I bring it over. Carefully setting it in front of her, but not without leaning over the bar to give her a quick kiss.

“The service here is exceptional,” she tells me, laced with a slight laugh.

My eyebrows raise as I tell her, “You’re the only one getting that level of customer service.”

“I’ve seen the way you talk to Eleanor,” she taunts.

My eyes roll at her comment; I point at her as I whisper-yell, “DON'T START WITH ME.” Unable to keep the smirk hidden away.

“I’m not jealous! She was here first,” she says, holding her hands up while giggling away.

“You shouldn’t be jealous.”

“Oh, I’m not at all,” she tells me matter-of-factly. Casually sipping her drink as she looked me up and down.

“Good,” I laugh out, folding my arms across my chest as I watch her. “What’s with that look?”

She waves her hand, making me move closer to her. She so casually whispers, “Just— I love that I’m watching you mix drinks and be silly, but you'll also make it hard to walk tomorrow.”

My head drops, taking a deep breath. This girl's favorite hobby is making me sweat, I swear. “Jesus Christ,” I laugh out. Pulling my wrist up to check my watch, “What time do we close?”

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“Wait right here,” I tell her, quickly walking into my room to grab the gift I got her. Pulling the little bag from my closet and the flowers that I had sitting in water on my nightstand, I make my way back to her, mumbling, “These are for you.”

She pouts her lip, looking at me, “Jacob, you’re so sweet.”

Kissing me before she looks in the bag, a little smile lacing her lips as she realizes. Pulling out the book she’s been eyeing every time we go to the store, with a few little things that I found at her favorite thrift store down here.

“You’re too much,” she lets out quietly, setting everything back in the bag. “Thank you.”

I lean against the counter, and I look at her, quietly letting out, “Josh went to Quinn’s for the night so we could have the apartment to ourselves.”

“Well,” She says, her hands sliding up my chest as she leans into me. “Isn’t that just sweet of him?”

I hum back, letting my arms drape around her hips, “Mhmm.”

“Get to show my baby how much I love him,” she breathes out. Her lips pressed into my throat quickly.

I looked up for a second before asking her, “What has gotten into you?”

“Hopefully, you in a minute,” the sultry tone of her voice made my knees weak.

“Holy shit, hun,” I breathe out. “A bit needy, are we?”

She nods, quickly kissing my jaw before letting out, “I’m sorry, you’re just sooo—” She leans back, the look in her eyes making my heart race.

“Is that right?” I pop my eyebrow at her, watching the goosebumps flood her skin.

“Mhm,” she hums back. Pulling her lip in with her teeth gently before telling me, “Hot enough that I’d eat your ass or whatever.”

My head falls back as I laugh, not expecting her to bring that up. Managing to tell her, “I love you so much.”

“Mmmm, we really should have started saying that sooner,” she pauses to laugh for a second. “Hearing you say that makes you even hotter.”

My hands slide to the backs of her thighs, picking her up and setting her on the counter. Moving in between her legs, but her skirt made it difficult to get close.

“What about when I do this?” I ask quietly, pushing her skirt up so it sits around her hips. Her jaw drops slightly as she looks at me. I can see the way her breathing is already a little heavy. I lean down, kissing her legs, covered with her tights. Gently, I work my way up her thigh until I notice that I can see right through them as I get closer to her hips. I push her legs a little further apart– did she not..?

I can’t stop myself from smiling against her. My hands slide up her legs, lightly letting my fingers rub over her clit through her tights as I look up at her.

“You tryin’ to kill me?” I breathe out. “No panties?”

I watch the pink come up in her cheeks as she bites her lip.

“Lay back for me,” I whisper between kisses against her hip.

As she leans back on the counter, I hold her hips, pulling her to the edge, grabbing at the waistband of her tights, pulling them down her legs quickly. I kiss the inside of her ankle slowly, leaving wet kisses up her thighs until I get too close. Resting my lips against her pubic bone, I slowly smile against her skin, knowing it’ll drive her crazy.

“Jake, please,” she whines. Didn’t take long at all.

I ask quietly, “What do you want?”

Pressing my lips against her clit gently and then just hovering, letting my breath hit her.

“Mmm,” she hums out.

“Oh, you want this?” I taunt her, flattening my tongue against her clit. Lapping at it a few times, pulling a loud moan out of her. My hands still hold her hips as my tongue is practically spelling her name, listening to the sweet sounds that pour out of her. I wrap my lips around her clit for a second, lightly sucking in.

“Baby, oh my god,” she moans out.

I hum into her, sliding my hand up to her chin, glancing up at her, tapping her lip a few times until she opens her mouth. I slide my middle and ring finger in, and she wraps her lips around them. Swirling her tongue around them as she moans from the way my mouth is moving.

One of her hands knitted themselves into my hair, and the other held my arm. I carefully pull my hand back from her when she lets out a louder moan, slipping them right into her. ‘Yes’ and ‘Fuck’ litter the air as I push them into her a few times.

She props herself up, and I stand, leaning in to kiss her and start to pump my fingers faster inside her. She’s holding the back of my neck like it’s her lifeline. Adjusting my arm so my palm is flat against her clit, I curl my fingers up into that spot.

“Jake, oh my god,” She moans into my mouth

I look at her for a second before whispering, “Soak my fingers, honey.”

Immediately feel her hands grip my shirt, and the moans start falling out of her mouth. I can hear how wet she is and the way she’s starting to tense up on me. Leaning down, dragging my tongue along her, feeling her heartbeat. Looking back up at her as she breathes heavily, god, she is beautiful.

“Jake.. baby.. oh.. oh my god, baby..” she mumbles under her breath as she gets closer. Her voice rises as she lets out a loud “Jacob.” That’s my favorite sound.

Standing back up, her eyes flutter shut as she relaxes against me. Her face is lying on my shoulder.

“Come back to me, honey,” I whisper in her ear before kissing her cheek.

She sits back as I pull my hand from her, “I wanna see something,” she whispers, grabbing my hand that was just inside her. Tugging it up, muttering a quiet “Open.”

Sliding my fingers into my own mouth, swirling my tongue around them, tasting her on me. I can feel my cock twitch. I don’t know what she’s doing to me, but it’s working. Her jaw dropped at the sight, and I let out a little groan just to really rile her up.

“God, you’re so sexy, babe.”

I can feel my face warm, giggling at her compliment. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the way she treats me.

“Come on,” I tell her, holding my hands out to help her down. As soon as her feet hit the floor, she swung me around.

“Not so quick, handsome,” She giggles, pushing me gently against the counter. She unbuttons my pants quickly and tugs them down just enough. Her hand pulled my cock from my boxers and slid it into her mouth in one smooth motion.

My hands gently held her head as she moved further down the length of it. Fighting every urge to let my hips thrust into her. The moment her nose barely grazed my stomach, my head fell back. How is she mine? When it starts to feel a little too good, I lightly tap her shoulders. Holding my hands out to help her up, I make her trade spots with me again, her back against my chest as I tuck my face into her.

“Can you bend over for me?” I whisper into her ear. “Need to feel you.”

She eagerly leans onto the counter; I drop down, licking a wide stripe up the center of her one more time, with my hands hooking around her hips so I can grab her ass. Leaving a little kiss against her before standing back up.

I slip into her, letting out a little groan as I do. Even after a year, it still blows my mind how good she feels. Slowly rocking my hips into her, my grip on her hips tightening with every thrust. My hand slipped down, grabbing at her and pulling her back to me quickly.

She moans quietly, “Baby, you feel so good.”

My heart pounds at the sound. I start moving faster, fucking her harder. Listening to all her little sounds as I do. Without thought, my hand moves from her hip, coming down against her asscheek with a loud crack. The moan that came out of her practically made my mouth water but also made my face heat up, and grinned as I leaned down, kissing between her shoulder blades.

“You like that?” I mumble against her.

Letting out a small “Yes.”

“Mmm,” I hum out. “My sweet girl.” Slowing my hips down, tapping her sides gently.

I mutter, “Come with me,” as I’m pulling her into the bedroom.

I unzipped her skirt so it fell to the floor as she unbuttoned my shirt, pushing it off my shoulders. Her hands moved to push my pants down as I grabbed the bottom of her sweater, pulling it over her head. She pushes me back towards the end of my bed, gently pushing me to sit down.

She unclasps her bra, letting it slide down her arms until her tits are on full display. “Fuck me, you’re so hot,” I let out as I watch her toss the bra onto the floor.

She crawls into my lap and slips my cock back into her. Her lips pressed into me as she sat down. Rolling her hips against mine as we made out. My hands just run all over her, taking her in as she makes herself feel good.

When I feel her start to move up, my hands move to hold just under her ass. Helping lift her up, watching her tits bounce as she rides me.

Her hands hold onto my shoulders for support; as she leans in close to my ear, she mumbles, “Baby, your cock is sooo-” My hips jerk up as she tells me, making her moan at the feeling.

My hands still holding tight onto her ass as she rides me. I just take her in as she writhes against me, my grip on her tightening a little. Her eyes meet mine quickly, the way her pupils dilate as she stares at me.

Her sweet voice whispered, “Do it again.”

My eyebrows pull together until her hand reaches down, tapping my wrist a few times, with a devious little smirk on her lips. OH.

She rolls her hips against me a few times when I pull my hand back, bringing it back down against her quickly. The sound mixed with the moan she let out— I could get used to that.

She moans out, “Fuck me, Jake.”

One of my arms wraps around her waist, holding her close to me as I stand up. I lay her down against my pillows, still sitting between her legs; I lean over, grabbing a condom quietly. I know I won’t last long at this point, so I lean down and start dancing my tongue around her clit. Listening to her moans get higher pitched, her hands grabbing at my hair as she gets close. I plunge my fingers back into her, looking up at her when I say, “Tell me how good it is, honey.”

Her jaw drops, and the grip on my hair is strong as I work her through her orgasm; the sound of her voice as she comes makes me weak.

Sitting up on my knees, keeping one hand lightly rubbing her thigh, stroking myself a few times. I slide the condom on as she comes down, just watching her for a minute until she looks back at me.

I slip back into her, leaning down and kissing her slowly. Feeling the way her breathing is still heavy, she lets out a happy little “mmm” against me.

Starting to move my hips, I just look down at her. That’s my girl, my gorgeous girl. My heart starts to race as I take her in when I let out a quiet “I love you.”

Her hands grab my face, pulling me into her. She kisses my top lip gently, the tip of my nose, and lingers her lips against my forehead when she whispers back, “I love you, baby.”

We stay in this slow pace, littering kisses all over. Her hands basically touch any part of me that she can reach, as if she just wants to feel closer. Cradling her head in my hands, I just stare at her as my hips gently rock into her.

God— she’s mine, I think to myself. She’s genuinely the most beautiful person I’ve ever known, and I get to have all of her for myself. My hips start to move faster at the thought.

Leaning down close to her, I tuck my face into her neck, breathing her in. My pace picks up again; she’s mine. The thought makes me smile against her skin.

“Fuck—mmm…” I groan; I can feel my orgasm starting to build. Snapping my hips into her a little harder, “mine” slips out, and my eyes go wide.

Until she whispers back, “Yes baby, I’m all yours.” My heart pounds at the fact she’s encouraging it.

“Say it again,” I tell her, my voice a little louder.

“I’m yours,” she breathes out in a moan.

My eyes roll back a little at the sound, fuck.

“Come on, Jake, show me how much you love me,” she tells me. My breathing starts to pick up, letting out little whimpers when I exhale.

She keeps going; her voice is making everything so much more intense. Whispering, “I know you’re close; let me have it.”

Feeling her legs wrap around me, Fuck— she’s so hot. She holds my face gently, moving me so her lips are just hardly hovering over my ear when she lets out, “Come, baby,” in the sexiest tone I’ve ever heard.

My orgasm hits me like a freight train, moaning out, “Char—“

A minute goes by; she’s just running her hand through my hair, letting me cuddle into her. One of her hands slid down to just gently scratch my back; this is heaven.

“Feel good, babe?” She asks quietly.

I just hum back, “Mmmm.. mhm.”

I can feel her kiss the side of my head a few times, so I lazily kiss her neck. Slowly but surely, I prop myself up to look at her.

“Come with me?”

She giggles, moving the hair out of my face. “Where are we going?”

“I just want to shower real quick,” I tell her, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. My voice gets quiet when I let out, “But.. I want you to be there.”

She leans up, kissing my cheek, “Okay.”

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We both stand there in the shower, letting the warm water hit us. I’m just trying to prevent her from getting her hair wet so she can worry about it in the morning. But being able just to hold her for a few extra minutes was perfect.

She leaned back and looked at me. Her voice was quiet, “Do you want to know when I realized I loved you?”

“Of course,” I say with a small laugh.

She smiles at me, her arms sliding around my neck, “Well, you know the one night that we went out together?”

I laugh before saying, “Hun, we’ve done that a lot in the past year.”

“Oh, true,” she starts, giggling. “When we went on the unspoken date— we were still pretending we didn’t like each other that much.”

“Yes, absolutely,” I laugh with her this time. “I was incredibly obsessed with you at that point, but yes, continue.”

Her face got a little red at my comment, but she finally told me, “When you were singing to me and making me dance with you— all I could think was how I could spend forever watching you just be happy like that.”

“Forever’s a long time,” I whisper, my eyebrows raised at her with a little smile.

She leans in close, whispering back, “Not long enough with you.”

She is my wife; I’ll make sure of it.

After spending a couple of minutes struggling to breathe while we made out, we were finally crawling back into bed. We lay there talking for a bit before she started to fall asleep.

I can’t help but kiss the top of her head as she drifts off, mumbling into her, “I love you so much.”

She looks up at me, her eyelids heavy, mumbling back, “I love you.”

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Thanksgiving Day

Listening to the shower run and the random splashes from her washing her hair, I sneak into Josh’s room. Grabbing the package and quickly opening it. The small velvet box creaks as I open it. An oval cut diamond sparkles back at me, little clusters of diamonds sit on either side, and a dainty gold band. I hope she likes it.

I’ve spent the last year watching her when we’re at stores where there’s jewelry or the occasional glance when I see her scrolling on her phone. She’s never been pushy about anything happening; granted, we just told each other, ‘I love you.’ But she is my little romantic lady, and I’ve watched her zoom in on ring posts, figuring out the things she likes. I can’t wait to call her my wife one day.

I wander back into my room, tucking it behind a few things on the shelf in my closet. Knowing she’s too small to get to it and chuckling to myself at the thought of her trying.

The water shuts off, so I make my way to the bathroom to be a menace. Slowly opening the door, peeking in as she’s wrapping herself up with the towel.

“Shit— I missed it.”

“Sorry, babes,” she sighs. “Gotta move quicker next time.”

“I’ll wait,” I giggle. Watching her rub various products into her face. She keeps peeking over at me as I just lean against the counter. She’s so fucking beautiful.

“Are you really just going to watch me get ready?” She asks through a laugh.

I just nod at her, “What else could I be doing?”

She steps over to me, giving me a kiss with a little grin on her face.

“I’ll make you a deal.”

My eyebrow pops up instantly, “I’m listening.”

“If you bring me a fresh cup of coffee, I’ll drop the towel,” she tells me with a little wink.

My eyes widen at the proposition, and no words come out as I scramble to the kitchen to make her more coffee. I’ve never set up the coffee pot faster.

Practically prancing back to the bathroom with coffee for both of us, holding hers out to her. I’m sure I look like a kid on Christmas, but when your girlfriend is as gorgeous as mine, it’s hard not to be excited.

She takes it from me, sipping on it quickly, “Mmm.. thank you.” She tilts her head back with her lips already in a cute little pout, waiting for a kiss. I set my mug on the counter, cupping her jaw before kissing her. I feel the towel hit my feet, and the smile that creeps onto my face makes it hard to keep kissing her.

“Have I told you that you’re the best?” I giggle against her lips. Backing up a little to take her in, I still get butterflies whenever I look at her. She looks at me through the mirror, my smirk selling me out before I can even ask her, “What if we just ditched my family and you stay like this instead?”

“I think you’d like that a little too much,” she laughs as I wiggle my eyebrows at her. “Plus, your mom would never let you hear the end of it.”

“She already loves you. You don’t have to be on her side, you know?”

“I’m just trying to save you from another sex lecture from her, baby,” she tells me, a shitty little smirk on her lips. I never should have told her about what my mom said; she’s teased me ever since because almost nothing is worse than to have your mom, of all people, talk to you about your sex life, especially as an adult.

“Speaking of,” I start, knowing she’s going to yell at me for what I’m about to say. But it’s a little too fun to get her going. Fighting a smirk as I tell her, “If we sleep there, you’re gonna need to control yourself. I know it might be hard for you—“

“Excuse me?” She cuts me off. “You’re going to look at me right now and tell me that I have no self-control?”

I let out a loud laugh as she stared at me.

“Jake, be so serious,” trying to hold in her laugh, she rolls her eyes at me as she clips her hair up out of her way.

“You’re right,” I tell her. “But, honey,” I move closer to her, sliding my hands around her waist, “How am I supposed to have self-control when you look like this?” Pressing a kiss into her shoulder. Letting my hands wander up, cupping her breasts and letting my thumbs run over her nipples lightly.

Her head leans back against me, “Babe, you’re proving my point,” she whispers. She turns her face, kissing my cheek before looking back into the mirror to finish putting her makeup on. “Let me finish getting ready, and I’ll take care of you later, promise.”

My eyes shoot up, and my hands drop to her hips. I hold them as I meet her stare in the mirror. I can see the red creep into my cheeks as she winks at me.

“Char—“

“You’ll just have to stay quiet for me,” she says, immediately followed by her little giggle.

My head drops back because I know I’m blushing hard at this point, “Oh, shut up.” I slap her ass as I move back to my spot, grabbing my coffee and sipping on it as she laughs at me.

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After watching her eyes light up when she picks out what she wants me to wear. She insisted that we coordinate at least since it’s really the first holiday we’re spending together, and my mom is notorious for taking pictures of everyone throughout the day.

She always looks good, but I can’t stop staring at her as we walk down to the car. In an oversized cream sweater with her tights and boots, she looks precious, especially so when she’s got her hand wrapped around my arm as we walk—opening her door for her and letting her get comfortable. I toss our bag into the back seat as I make my rounds to the driver’s side.

Instinctually, I just hand my phone to her so she can pick music. It’s adorable how she tries to find songs that we both like, even though I don’t think I would question anything she puts on.

Reaching over, she quickly slips her hand into mine. Spending the rest of the drive listening to whatever she picks and the little giggles that come out of her as she scrolls through things on her phone.

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“You ready for the chaos?” I whisper as I throw the car in park.

She’s gotten more used to spending time with everyone, but adding my parents in is a different beast entirely. They all mean well; it’s just a lot of people with loud personalities.

She leans over to kiss me, whispering, “It’ll be fun.”

I grab our stuff from the backseat, and as she comes around, I hold my hand out for her. Carefully walking up the dirt driveway, my parents are always choosing different Airbnbs to stay in, and this one is just in the woods this time. As we get up to the door, I turn around to look at her.

“One more,” I mumble, leaning in to kiss her again. Her little smile against me made everything better. Knocking on the door behind me as I left a few small pecks on her lips. Hearing someone walking towards us, I pull away from her. The last thing I’m going to do is mildly embarrass her right away.

“LOTTIE,” Quinn’s voice made me jump.

They squeal and hug as if they don’t see each other almost every day, if not at least talking. They’ve become incredibly close over the past year, which probably doesn’t help that we’re all in the apartment often enough.

“Which of my babies is that?” My mom’s voice carries from a different room. Waiting for her to come in, knowing exactly what’s going to happen. “Oh my goodness! Don’t you look so cute!” She pulls Char into a hug, and here we go.

“Thank you,” Char’s sweet giggle laced it. “It already smells amazing in here.”

“Oh, you’ll have to come see what I’m baking– actually, I may have you help me if you want,” Mom tells her, her eyebrows raised, knowing that Char isn’t going to say no to baking.

“Ooooo! Yes, please!”

We’ve been here for two minutes, and I’ve already lost her to my mom. This may be record timing.

“Hi, Sweetheart, I didn’t forget about you,” Mom coos as she comes over to me, glancing at my outfit. “She dressed you, didn’t she?”

I just nod, hugging her. Mumbling to her, “Where should I put our bag?”

“Whichever room you want,” she tells me, “I’m just so happy you’re gonna stay the night.” Her hand patted my chest a few times.

I smile at her, “Of course.” She just looks at me, tucking my hair behind my ear before turning back to steal Char away.

Wandering down the hall and choosing one of the rooms to throw our stuff in. Feeling a little insane as I just smile to myself, but every time we do something for the first time like this, it’s like I’m falling in love with her all over again.

“Well, well, well,” Josh’s voice rings from behind me.

I whip my head around, “Surprised you’re not out there with everyone?”

“I was kicked out of the kitchen,” he tells me. “Apparently, they don’t agree with my ‘creative decisions’ or something.” Rolling his eyes as he folds his arms over his chest. “So, I’m going to force you to hang out with me instead.”

“Ahh,” I let out, laughing quietly. “Just like when we were kids.”

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We found ourselves sitting in the living room with our dad as the parade was starting on TV. Just catching up with him until we hear the front door open, knowing that it must be Sam. Listening to our mom holler through the house, “Is that my baby boy?”

Josh and I look at each other from across the couch. He rolls his eyes, and I can’t fight the laugh that comes out.

“I saw that,” our dad mumbles, a small smirk creeping onto his face.

Josh, being who he is, shrugs dramatically and, with a sarcastic tone, lets out, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Both of us giggled like children again.

“You two aren’t as slick as you think,” he laughs. Groaning as he stands up from the couch, he gives my shoulder a squeeze as he walks past.

It only takes a couple of minutes before he comes back to join us again, with Sam in tow this time. Sam plopping down near me, which is probably for the best at the rate this morning is going. Josh would probably be pestering him instantly. Our dad fell back into the spot he already had claimed.

Spending the holiday all together was always nice, mostly because none of us were working, and we obviously didn’t get to see our parents all that often. Typically, Josh would get roped into helping our mom, but I think she’s really living her best life with Quinn, Willa, and Char in there instead. She’s always been outnumbered by us, so now we’ve all been told to keep out.

Getting to spend time with our dad as an adult has been way more fun. He was usually the one in charge of telling us to ‘knock it off’ as kids and having to separate us when we were fighting. But now, we just get to enjoy hanging out with him and seeing him laugh at the stories we tell rather than have to lecture us.

In the midst of a story from him, Quinn walks in, setting a tray of little snacks for us on the coffee table, pointing out one of them to Josh, but I couldn’t hear what they said because Char slid her hand over my chest from behind the couch.

“Thought you might want this,” she says, handing me a hot cup of coffee. My head tilted back against the couch to see her as I carefully stole the mug from her.

I just stare at her for a second, taking in how adorable she looks today, before mumbling back, “Thank you, hun.” She leans down, kissing my forehead before padding back off into the kitchen. My self-control really is low because I absolutely watched her walk away until she was completely out of sight.

“You good over there, bud?” My dad taps my arm, bringing me back to reality as he chuckles to himself.

My face heats up a little, but I just sip my coffee to try to hide it.

“They’re always like that,” Sam chimes in, making a disgusted face at me. I flip him off as I take another sip of my coffee.

“Samantha, I know you’re not talking,” Quinn says, making the rest of us laugh. “Don’t forget, I can hear you and Wills talking when you’re at our apartment.”

His jaw drops slightly, just staring back at them.

“Should I give examples?”

“Nope! I’d rather you didn’t!”

Josh chimes in, “I personally think it’s cute how she has Jake wrapped around her finger.”

Our dad laughs as soon as it comes out, which makes me laugh. He isn’t wrong. Quinn kissed Josh’s cheek before prancing back off to the kitchen.

“Hard not to be,” I mumble into my coffee mug. All I can think of is how she’s just the type of love I need in my life. She’s this incredibly independent woman, so confident in her career, and wildly intelligent— she blows my mind every day. But then she’ll come home to me on the weekends and melt into me, just wanting to be loved and so sweet. Or if I go to her and the bar has been overwhelming, she’s so gentle and takes care of me.

The sound of Sam and Josh cackling brings me back while my dads mutters, “Oh, give him a break.” Probably good that I didn’t hear it.

We all sat around as Dad updated us on how life outside of New England was. Telling us about all the little places they’ve found, their favorite restaurants, and the few friends they’ve finally made.

“That’s great, Dad,” Sam chimes in. It feels like we’re all kids again, just hanging out with him; the thought alone makes my heart swell a little.

“You guys should come visit during the winter,” he tells us. “Get out of the cold for a few days.”

I look over to him, “I’m sure we can plan something.”

Hearing a fit of laughter coming from the other room, we all look at each other in silence.

“That’s a scary sound,” Dad groans quietly, and we all giggle. “Everyone knows a secret about one of us now.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Oh god.”

“No, no, no.”

He throws his head back in laughter, “Figured you boys would have learned at this point. Your mother loves to share secrets with anybody who will listen.”

“Shit,” I let out under my breath. This isn’t the first time she’s been around Charlotte, but I’m usually right next to her, so the secrets have been kept to a minimum. I’m definitely fucked.

Quickly distracted by the sound of little feet walking through the room, Iris runs straight over to Josh when she rounds the corner of the couch. He scoops her up in a hug, her little laugh making all of us smile.

“I should have known that’s where she was going,” Danny’s voice cuts through the laughter, joining Josh and Iris on the other side of the couch.

My dad has always loved him, well— both of my parents do. But he has an open invitation to every holiday that my parents decide to host. I think they like that he has Mel and Iris now, especially since none of their actual children are going to be giving them grandkids anytime soon.

They’re mid-conversation when Sam abruptly jumps up, walks to the hall, and yells, “Mom! Santa is almost here!” Coming back to the couch, our dad shot him a wink.

“Thank you, Sammy,” Mom lets out loudly as she scurries into the room, leaning on the back of the couch behind Dad. Everyone follows her in; Willa is plopping down next to Sam, and Quinn is sitting on the floor below Josh. There she is.

“Hey you,” I whisper as Char sneaks over to me, tucking herself close to me as we watch Mel tell Iris to look for Santa. My arm tugged her as close as I could because I knew I was only getting her for a couple of minutes.

“Is this a thing?” She whispers in my ear.

I nod, turning my face to whisper back. “My mom always makes sure that she comes in to watch Santa show up because we would get so excited when we were little. So now, we always make sure to get her before, and she always cries when he shows up.”

Her little smile when she lets out a little “aw” before looking over to my parents. My mom’s arms are slung around my dad’s neck, and he has one hand covering hers. Her eyes already teared up at just the glimpse of Santa and Mrs Claus, but the tears finally fell when Iris jumped out of Josh’s arms, pointing to the TV.

“Oh, what a sweet little thing,” Mom lets out quietly.

I pull Char’s legs over mine, keeping my hand on her thigh. I want to just keep her to myself now. The urge to keep her trapped only got worse when she leaned her head against me.

Before I knew it, chaos ensued yet again. My mom stole my girlfriend from me, not before I snuck about eighteen “one more” kisses on her— despite being told to get a room.

Somehow, we all got roped into a game, or a handful of rounds, of hide and seek with Iris, proving that we are still just children.

All of us laugh as we run around this house, trying to find places to hide that aren’t too hard for her to figure out. The only downside was dependent on who she found first. Unfortunately, Sam only plays to win, so if she found him first, we were all screwed; he would be holding her on his hip as he did all the leg work for her, making a scene when he’d find us, which made her belly laugh every time.

We spent a few hours entertaining her when my mom finally announced that the food was basically ready. I wander into the kitchen to grab a drink, but I am sidetracked when I sneak behind Charlotte, sliding my arms around her.

“Hi, baby,” she giggles quietly.

I snuggle my face into her neck for a second, whispering, “I’ve missed you all day.”

“I’ll be all yours soon enough.”

I press a kiss to her cheek before letting go, asking, “What do you want to drink? I’ll bring it in there for you.”

A collective ‘aw’ rings through the room, and I can feel my face heat up a little. At least they think it’s cute; I’ve just been bullied all day. I poured some of the wine from the fridge into her and grabbed a glass for myself. Going out of my way to give her a kiss, feeling her grab my ass as I turn to join the rest of the boys. I whipped my head to look at her, and she just smirked at me. She subtly blew me a kiss. She’s lucky she’s cute.

Everyone slowly joins the table, taking turns grabbing food. There are at least fourteen conversations happening at once, but somehow, it’s not overwhelming. Char is sitting to my left, my hand finding comfort on her leg every so often. The conversations varied throughout the meal from everybody focused on Mom telling a story, likely about us as kids or just tapering off into a million different ones. Feeling her hand grab mine once she was done eating, she just mindlessly played with the rings I had on as we sat there.

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After dinner was done, Mom insisted that none of the kids help with dishes but get into comfy clothes so we could watch Christmas movies together. We all say our goodbyes to Danny, Mel, and Iris since they have more families to visit.

I lay on our bed, watching her change into my sweatshirt and some leggings. She looks up at me, giggling as she pulls on some fuzzy socks, “they’re extra comfy,” she told me when she packed them this morning.

“You ready, honey?” I ask as she sits on the bed with me.

She lays back, throws her leg over my hips, and plants a kiss on me. Letting out a quiet “Almost.” She snuggles herself into me for a minute, which I won’t complain about. My hand squeezed her thigh a few times.

“Comfortable?”

She nods her head against me, “I’ve barely seen you today. Feels weird.”

“I’m glad you had fun with my mom, at least.”

She lets out a little laugh, propping herself up on her elbow before telling me, “She told me a little secret about you.”

“Did she?”

Her smile is wide as she stares at me, “Mhmm,” she hums.

“Why do I feel like I know what it is..?” I mumble, squinting my eyes at her.

Her sweet little laugh sneaks out, “Well.. something about you always crying over having to wash your pirate jammies?” Of course.

“Come on, if we don’t get up now, I’m never gonna go,” I tell her, patting her butt a couple of times. Why does she have to tell everybody that?

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed!” She hangs on me as I sit up. “It's cute, baby!”

“Yeah, yeah,” I roll my eyes at her, fighting a smile. “I’m sure she’s ready to spill all my secrets to you.”

Her lips land on my cheek as she giggles at me, her hand holding the other side of my face. She whispers, “I’ll tell you my secrets later if you want.”

Jesus Christ. I can feel my heart rate pick up, quickly spitting out, “Alright, you. Let’s go.”

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We make our way out to the living room, claiming the corner of the couch that I’d been in all morning. I give her the actual corner of the couch and just pull the coffee table closer so I can prop my feet up on there.

It’s not long before everybody else is coming in and getting comfortable. Sam and Willa steal the other corner since his legs are too long to be banished to the end of the couch. My parents sat between us, mom closer to me.

Josh and Quinn curl up together at Char’s feet, just propping cushions up so they don’t squish her. Dad shuts off the big lights, just letting the little lamps try to light up this room.

My mom changed it to The Grinch, and the tradition continued as we all curled up with our own blankets.

I feel Char adjust so she’s cuddled up on my chest, my arm wrapped around her to keep her close. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head without thought. My mom’s hand grazes mine, making me look over at her. She holds my hand for a second as we just stare at each other, giving my hand a few squeezes before she leans into Dad.

And there we all sat, laughing at the movie like we do every year. Finally, feeling complete as the love of my life giggles against me while I’m surrounded by my family. It feels like nothing could get better at the moment until she tilts her head up, kisses my cheek, and whispers, “I love you.”

I glance down at her, giving her a quiet kiss, hoping to not out us to the rest of the room. She just stares up at me, the green of her eyes hardly visible in the dim glow of the TV. But the butterflies still erupt inside me when she looks at me like that. I can’t believe I get to spend forever with her. Slowly blinking at her, I just take her in.

Finally, whispering back, “I love you, honey.”

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Chapter Twenty-Five

FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | Playlist

Sam & Willa : Sparrow Of The Dawn

Josh & Quinn : Amongst The Stars

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Taglist:

@gvfsstardust @myleftsock @dont-go-home-without-me @literal-dead-leaf

@lizzys-sunflower @mackalah @klarxtr @edgingthedarkness @writingcold

@takenbythemadness @earthgrlsreasy @peaceloveunitygvf

@josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk

@broken0mens @whereiskeara @gvf-luna @katuschka @threadofstars @i-love-gvf

@jazzyfigz @smoking-jakelane @gretavanfan @scoreofinfantryvines

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@musicspeaks @wrldabomination @chloeshell1219

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@nicoleghost18 @lightmy-love @myownparadise96 @cheersdannyx2

@musicislove3389

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darkkitty1208 · 3 days ago

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@ra-con-teur asked:

Thank you for the prompt, lovely! 💖 I went sort of loose with this one, hope you don’t mind! Also, to others: I tend to have prompts be sent through the ask box! :D This one’s fine though :P

The biggest, fattest, juiciest thank yous to @janora00 the absolute SAINT for reading this over for me and helping spot mistakes/tweaking bits. Oh, and for somehow convincing me this work isn't shit. I love you, babes.

handle with care

Summary:

Reigen has a bad day. Luckily for him, Serizawa's there to sort him out.

Word count: 2,512

Tags/Warnings: References to Depression, Reigen Arataka Has ADHD, Trans Reigen Arataka, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Smoking

AO3

It hits Reigen immediately when he wakes up that day. A tightness in his throat, the taste of dread thick on his tongue. There's a kind of heaviness weighing on his chest, keeping his limbs pinned down onto the mattress.

Reigen heaves a heavy sigh. He catches movement to his side, the sound of rustling sheets. He turns to look.

Serizawa's shuffled closer, chest rising and falling in steady breaths as he continues to sleep. Reigen feels his lips tug in a fond smile at the sight—he could get used to waking up with a warm body pressed to his side like this. He turns back over, however, not wanting to disturb the man.

The clock on his nightstand reads a blinking 6:07. Of course, his inner alarm clock has decided to wake him up bright and early on a weekend of all days. It doesn't help that he's already feeling the start of a headache building tension in his temples.

He rises to sit upright slowly, movements deliberate as he tries making as minimal sound as possible, eyeing Serizawa all the while to make sure he doesn't accidentally wake him up. They've had a rough week; Serizawa deserves the rest.

The cold of the floorboards shake off the rest of his drowsiness away when his feet swing gently off the bed to meet it. The blanket slips away from his—now that he's realised—completely bare torso and the springs of the old mattress creaks at him as he lifts his weight off of it to trudge quietly into the bathroom.

He makes quick business emptying his bladder, and less quicker business washing his hands. And then he takes a moment to just stand there, staring at his reflection. Sandy blonde hair ruffled in every direction, darker roots beginning to show. He hopes the pallor has to do with the unflattering lighting of the bathroom's fluorescents; he knows, at least, that the shadows are. The dark rings under his eyes, though, are unmistakable.

He scowls at it.

His eyes trail down to his torso. They fix themselves on the two, crescent marks under his chest. He lifts a finger, drags a nail lightly over the skin. It sends a twinge of nothing up his nerves.

He looks further down, to the slight pudge around his stomach, pokes it a bit.

The light above him buzzes horribly, adding to the steady pounding in his head. It hums its way down around his nape, settles there heavily.

He picks up his toothbrush, squeezes some paste onto it, scrubs it against his teeth mechanically.

The buzzing overhead only grows louder.

Days like this don't come as often as they used to. He’s used to dealing with them on his own, really. Most days they’re easy to ignore; shoving the build of something tense in his chest by forcing his best customer service grin on his face, blaming the slight quiver of his fingers on too much coffee, chalking up the slight shortness of breath on years of habitual smoking finally catching up to him.

Reigen knows how to handle himself well.

But it’s on days like this, where there aren’t any clients to perform for or stacks of paperwork to fill or walls of text in his email inbox taking up his screen begging to be answered, that Reigen lets himself slip between the cracks. It’s in moments like this, as he takes another drag out of his cigarette, feeling the sun kissing the bits of skin not covered by Serizawa’s shirt he snagged from the closet as he stands in the balcony, that he lets himself unfurl; lays himself bare to pick at the delicate parts.

The nicotine doesn’t give him the right kind of rush it did in the past, dulled into the numbness that it is, but it takes some of the edge off.

He watches the smoke disperse into the steadily brightening sky. The clouds roll ahead to a destination only they know. He leans forward on the railing, watches the city as it wakes up, the hustle and bustle beginning to sound itself into the air. The tinkle of a bell from the bakery a couple blocks down, their employee arriving for opening time. The absent swoosh of tires from the cars passing along the street. The distant rumbling of a train from the nearest station, which he knows is filled with bleary-eyed people commuting god-knows-where on a weekend like this.

And him, standing uselessly on his balcony overlooking the view of life unfolding before him as the sun greets the sky a good morning, as if mocking his sour mood.

He turns to the steaming coffee he let cool on the small table he keeps at the corner, an ashtray resting beside it with dry flakes of cigarette residue marking the clear, glass base a darkening grey. He lifts the cup, ignores the slight tremble, takes a sip. He places it back down with a clink.

He hears the sound of the balcony door sliding open just as he turns back to watch the streets below. He hears more than sees Serizawa shuffling quietly forward, slumping onto his back to hook a chin over his shoulder. His arms reach to wrap securely around his waist.

Reigen lets Serizawa’s heat—he naturally runs warm, is a fact he’s come to find delight in—seep into his bones. He closes his eyes, letting the morning air finally wrap around him when he had been too occupied by his own thoughts.

"You're smoking," Serizawa points out after a while, voice gruff with the lingering bits of sleep. Reigen can feel the way it vibrates against his shoulder, down his back. He flicks the dust off his cigarette, watches it fall from a height.

He hums. "Yeah," he says, "I am."

Serizawa's head shifts where he lays it on his shoulder; probably to avoid the hard jut of his bone there.

"You said you quit."

Reigen leans his weight back into Serizawa, who somehow still holds himself steady on his feet. "Yeah," he says, and his voice feels a little far away. He looks down at the cigarette, held between his index and middle fingers. "I did, did I?"

They lapse into silence at that. Usually silence doesn't work well with Reigen—he always needs some sort of stimuli, something to keep him talking, moving, doing. Silence compels him to fill it. To keep himself from being left with his own devices that are his thoughts.

Now, though, Reigen lets the silence settle over them, broken only by the occasional swoosh of tires or chirps of birdsong.

It's Serizawa who eventually speaks up again.

"Something on your mind?" he asks conversationally. Something about the way he says it reminds Reigen of himself—he wonders if Serizawa picked that up from him. Sometimes he indulges and thinks Serizawa picked up plenty of things from him.

"You know. Just..." He takes another drag, just to have something to do with himself, blows it out slowly. "stuff."

"Stuff?"

He hums. "Stuff."

"Ah." Serizawa's hold around him tightens minutely before relaxing again. It feels firmer than it did before, though. "It's one of those days, huh?"

Reigen finds himself cracking a small, private smile at that. How is it that Serizawa knows him so well?

He hums again. What more is there to say to that?

The silence stretches a little longer this time.

"We should make breakfast," Serizawa suggests, being the breaker of the silence once again.

"I thought you said you weren't the breakfast kind of guy?" And it's true—Serizawa mentioned once about not being able to eat immediately after waking up. He'd need a couple hours before being able to consume anything.

"Well..." He feels Serizawa's head loll slightly to the side, "you are," he says, simply. "And, um, this—" He gestures at the health hazard concoction and equivalent of a death wish that is his coffee and cigarette, "doesn't exactly count as breakfast, Reigen." His hand returns in its spot on his waist. And then lower, "and I know you don't like eating without company." And as if that isn't enough to make his heart swell... "Let me make you breakfast. I want to.”

He presses back, closer. Greedy. The late November air that previously bit into his skin melts away.

“I think we still have some eggs in the fridge,” Serizawa muses, “I can have tea, first."

Reigen turns his head slightly to meet Serizawa's eyes. He wants to say thank you, maybe I don't deserve you, and if he were a little more daring, maybe even an I love you, you know that? but as it stands, Reigen Arataka is a right, darn coward. Instead he settles for, "We... really need to go grocery shopping, huh?"

Serizawa chuckles at that, low and reverberating and slightly surprised. “Yeah, probably,” and then a grimace. “Definitely. We do.”

Reigen chuckles back, and some of that tension in his head ebbs away.

“Let’s get back inside?” Serizawa tilts it up at the end in his delivery to make it sound more like a question.

“Sure. But let me just finish this—”

His cigarette floats out of his fingers, leaving a gentle static buzz on his skin that he easily identifies as Serizawa’s aura, and the butt is quickly stubbed onto the ashtray.

“Hey!” Reigen says, with no real bite. Serizawa gives him an apologetic smile, but there’s a hint of playfulness to it.

“Sorry. Shall we go back inside now?”

Reigen knows he isn’t really sorry. He rolls his eyes, but smiles back anyway. “Fine. Let’s.”

Reigen watches as Serizawa patters about the kitchen. It’s not usual that they bother to cook on the weekends, usually relying on their usual takeout orders, but Reigen can never refuse a homemade meal. Even if said meal seemed to be plain eggs.

He doesn’t have much of an appetite currently, but he knows Serizawa wouldn’t have that. So Reigen sits, waits, watches. He feels a little useless.

It doesn’t take long for the restlessness to push him to his feet. He sidles up Serizawa’s side, not really knowing what to do with himself. Serizawa flashes him a quick smile before turning back to seasoning the sizzling eggs.

He hooks a chin over Serizawa’s shoulder. When he doesn’t say anything, Reigen deliberately drapes himself over his back, wrapping him in a hug from behind like Serizawa gave him in the balcony.

He’s probably being less helpful now than he was before, but Serizawa doesn’t seem to complain. So he stays.

Serizawa hums for a moment, using the spatula to check if the eggs’ undersides are cooked so he can flip them over. They aren’t.

He sets the spatula on a clean surface, tries to find Reigen’s hand that rests on his hip. He lays a palm above his hand, holding gently.

“So,” Serizawa says, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. “Do you… need to talk?”

Reigen considers it for a moment, stares ahead at nothing in particular. Something about this angle—the way it conceals his face—makes him feel… brave.

“What is there to talk about?” he mutters, “I… wake up. I feel—” he gestures vaguely at himself with a free hand, “like this. That’s all there is to it, you know?”

Serizawa, ever eternally patient, just hums.

“Does this… happen often?”

Reigen bites the inside of his cheek, feels the sting. He releases it. It turns into a dull ache. “Usually when winter rolls around,” he says, and it’s the truth. Winter meant the days would blur together, time would lose meaning, that haze would settle into his head to cloud his days over with something dull and empty. “It’s…” He sucks in a breath. “It’s ridiculous, you know? I didn’t even— nothing could have triggered this. I…”

“Hey,” Serizawa admonishes him softly, “Hey, now. Arataka,” His thumb swipes softly again, halting to squeeze his hand. “none of that. It’s not ridiculous. Everybody has bad days.”

“I know,” he says, “I know. It’s just that I…”

There he goes, going all wistful again.

“I just…” he shrugs, looks down at the floor. He huffs at himself. “I have you now, ‘Tsuya. And all the others. The kids, the office, hell, even Dimple. Everything’s— everything’s going well,” he says, “So, so well.” So well he doesn’t know what he’d done to ever deserve all this, if he ever did. He pulls away from the hug for a moment, eyes still on the floor. “So I don’t know why I still… I—” Serizawa squeezes his hand tighter, turns around to face him, and when Reigen sends him an appreciative look, he catches a glance at the soft gaze in his eyes. It’s almost too much for him. “I… should be more grateful, you know? For all this.” For you, goes unspoken, like many things he keeps behind clenched teeth, behind lips sealed from truth and vulnerability, too accustomed to the poison of deception.

His shoulders slump. Something like exhaustion bleeds into him. He hasn’t even done anything.

“I think it would help…” Serizawa says, gently, “if you maybe try counseling.”

Reigen tilts his head with a frown. “...Me?”

Reigen doesn’t seem like the type of person to need counseling. Serizawa, on the other hand, has been through rough patches in his life that take time to heal. It makes sense that he takes counseling. But him?

Reigen’s just an average man. He has no tragic backstory to claim, no childhood trauma to justify himself with. He’s not the kind of man to need that sort of thing.

“It helps to have someone… detached, to listen. Someone who isn’t, um, invested in your life. Or something like that,” he explains, “Someone impartial. Especially if they happen to be a professional who has all the tools to help you.” Serizawa seems to take a moment to arrange his words at this. “I… It helped me, anyway. Counseling. I have you, of course, and everyone else, and it’s… nice to have a support circle, but— you know. It helps. And— and I just…” Serizawa fixes him with a look so sincere it makes Reigen’s throat feel constricted. “I want to be there for you, ‘Taka. You just have to let me in. But I understand if you need… space. Not everyone’s ready for that sort of thing.”

Reigen searches his face. And then he feels a smile bloom from his lips, even if it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Thank you,” he whispers, not daring to speak any louder. “I’ll— I’ll uh, consider it. Counseling, I mean.”

Serizawa gives him one of those small, soft smiles he adores. Reigen feels his own wobble slightly, before stretching into something genuine.

Days like this don't come as often as they used to. He’s used to dealing with them on his own, really.

But, as he takes one look at Serizawa—

“Uh, wait. I think the eggs are burning.”

—he realises, maybe, he doesn’t always have to deal with them alone.

#my writing #reigen arataka #serizawa katsuya #serirei #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #fanfic

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mordsfesch · 2 years ago

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About last weekend

⚠️ Warning: This going to be a long one

Cold. It was first and foremost very cold.

But very, very pretty, because it snowed (and I’m proud to say that I did not slip on the ice that covered the side walks. I did expect to go home covered in bruises.)

besides that, the travel to Munich was… chaotic to say the least. Most trains did not arrive (or leave) on time, that is, if they showed up at all. And even then… my train from Frankfurt did show up, but we were only allowed onto half of the train. Obviously this meant that there wasn’t enough space for everyone and the train was then cancelled. Sooo, I had to take the next one, which was late and very, very crowded, but at least had heating, which is all I wished for at that point because I had been standing in the cold for about 3 hours. By the time I was warm again, I had to get off the train to take a different one that would actually take me to Munich. On said train I encountered several people who reminded me, that I could be very grateful that while I might be cold, at least I was on the right train. One guy had started his day in Tel Aviv, where his flight was delayed, and he missed his train in Germany. Another one had wanted to go to Mönchengladbach but somehow only realized he was on the wrong train shortly before we reached Nürnberg. And the third was a kid that took the wrong train after school and somehow ended up in Bavaria instead of North Rhine-Westphalia, where he lives. It was wild. 2/10

Somehow, I still made it to Munich in time to go to the theatre and watch a performance of Dickens’ Christmas Carol at the Amerikahaus. It was amazing. Very funny and entertaining, while also being heartbreaking at times. 10/10.

Cue to us, (@str4wanzerin) and me, walking back to her place to meet up with @eolewyn1010 to grab something to eat. Very tasty 9/10

Saturday started off great! We went vinyl shopping. Or I shopped for vinyls and my friends accompanied me (thanks for all the patience, while I was looking at… everything). I ended up with one vinyl I had been looking for, and one that I did not expect to buy, but was played in the shop and my brain told me: This one. I want this one. (Amazing decision, I had a nice chat with the owner of the shop and have been listening to it on repeat the past few days) 12/10

Next, we visited the Christmas market (very pretty) and got some crêpes (very tasty) 9/10

Finally, we wound up at the Prinzregententheater, where we met @carlomenzinger and of course watched our amazing boys, Udo and Miro, perform “A Christmas Carol”. Which… mind blown. Miro definitely surprised me with how well he read and performed his part (who knew he could still dance and jump like that? Also, he was very cute overall), and Udo managed to exceed my already high expectations. Him reading Jacob Marley very nearly gave me a heart attack (how deep can he make his voice sound??), while I’m pretty sure that his performance of Scrooge's little sister gave me some type of diabetes. 1000/10

Had some nice food again and talked all kinds of crazy fandom stuff 10/10

Stood in the cold for a bit, but met Miro, who despite having a cab waiting for him and being tired from performing, signed all of our stuff and was so, so nice. He’s just as sweet in person, as he seems to be in interviews. Did not meet Udo, but there will be other opportunities, I’m sure. 100/10

On Sunday, @str4wanzerin and I had a nice walk in the snow, looked at some architecture and went to another Christmas market (which lead to a new fanfic idea being born) before I headed home. Miraculously, everything went fine on my way back. No delays, no nothing.

Oh, and my collection of things expanded a bit (thanks for the cup, the autographs, and the vinyls!). Behold my Tatort shrine:

#thanks for making this an absolutely lovely weekend!#not only were the city and the performances great - so was the company #16/12/22 - 18/12/22 #the chaos talks #about their personal life #and vinyls #a christmas carol 2022

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inkykeiji · 7 months ago

Note

Hiiii clari my love I hope you’re having a wonderful day

I’m not sure how keen you are on rockstar dabi but I NEEDED to show you these 👀

eee hiii sweet vixen bb (ㅅ´ ˘ `) i hope ur saturday has been lovely so far!!

oHHHH MY GOSH okay actually i’ve been writing a rockstar dabi fic since like,,, 2021 LMAOOOO so i am very keen on rockstar dabi pls i am squealing sO LOUD he is sO CUTEEEEE look at him playing his lil electric keytar i am swoooooning i love him so much (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) <333 waaah thank you so much for sharing this with me on this fine saturday morning <3

#just dabi rockin out on a keytar to start the day <333 #absolutely love it #look at him he looks like he’s having such a good time #thE BLUE FLAMESSSSSS #i am shouting i love him so so so much it makes my chest ache uGH #thank u again for this vixen bb i love it ily <33333 #pls enjoy ur weekend n stay safe!!!#inky.vixen #clari gets mail

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forhyune · 1 year ago

Text

𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠・h.h.

— you're uninviting, there's no doubt about that, your resolve like unpolished diamond and tongue like broken glass. but hyunjin finds you're not half as impossible as everyone assumes you are.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬・11.1k

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠・idol!hyunjin x afab!stylist!reader (inspired by this)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬・fluff, angst, eventual smut so MDNI, some hurt/comfort, some humor, mc is a bad bitch and hyunjin is a #simp, enemies? to lovers, sexual tension, workplace relationship, mutual pining, slow burn, nonlinear narrative, alternating perspectives

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・cunnilingus, overstimulation, creampie (practice safe sex!!), mild dacryphilia, pussydrunk!hyunjin. minors and ageless blogs that interact with this post will be blocked.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 (𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭'𝐝.)・reader vividly remembers an anxiety attack. alcohol is consumed. lots of compartmentalization and imperfect communication. latter half is just kind of sad in general tbh but what do u expect from a fic based off alex turner lyrics

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭・farewell, neverland by txt・like crazy by jimin・dimple by bts・black friday by tom odell・collide by justine skye・crying lightning by arctic monkeys

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh ♡ @like-a-diamondinthesky ♡ @fire-08 ♡ @starsandrqindrops ♡ @txtxlz ♡ @laylasbunbunny ♡ @strayghibli ♡ @nuronhe ♡

𝐚/𝐧・call me victor frankenstein bc i've given birth to a MONSTER (except i actually love and care for mine ofc). this was easily the greatest challenge of my fanfiction-writing career and it feels like my magnum opus; i hope it's worth the wait! also a huge shoutout to sahar for being my voice of reason and my biggest supporter :’) i don’t deserve u i love u

Present day. Cannes, France. 5:54 P.M.

You’ve long made peace with the fact that Hwang Hyunjin is incapable of shutting up for more than five minutes.

As it is, the man has a mouth that runs like a cross-country marathon; then throw in his uncanny aptitude for annoying you, and what do you get? A nonstop slew of terrible jokes and teasing quips, tailored according to his thorough mental manual of what gets under your skin hardest and fastest.

This is the reality you live in, presumably because you were evil in your past life, and you’ve steeled yourself to see it through.

But twenty minutes have passed since you and Hyunjin ducked into the back of a cab and gave the driver the show’s address—and, as stunning as the red rooftops and lazuline coastline of Cannes are, you find you’re more interested in Hyunjin’s peculiar silence.

You move your gaze to his face. He’s looking outside, his chin resting upon the palm of his hand, the afternoon sunlight dusting over his chiseled features like polish on pottery; his complexion an exuberant gold against the cream-colored linen that makes up his clothing.

Maybe it’s because you opted for a simpler makeup look today, leaving the most telling contours of his face warm and bare, or maybe it’s because you’ve spent the last year committing his every mannerism and expression to memory. Nevertheless, you see through his pursed lips and tight brow right away.

“Nervous?”

Hyunjin’s head swivels towards you with a small snap, like he’s forgotten you’re here. His lips fall open, their glossy peach color glinting with the small shift.

“No,” he replies reflexively, but then his facade flickers. “Fuck, maybe a little. It’s just hard to believe, you know?”

You do know. It was a huge honor for both of you when Hyunjin was named the newest global ambassador of Versace. For you to be attending the brand’s pop-up show in one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, among some of the world’s most prolific creatives, is truly incomprehensible. Even you’ve been feeling antsy since you landed; you can only imagine Hyunjin’s anxiety.

You have never been good at consolation. You think your mouth is too coarse, your propensity for honesty too strong. But you’ve always known just what to say when it comes to him.

“Just remember who you are.”

Hyunjin takes a few seconds to process your words, but his understanding washes over his whole body; straightens his back; hardens his gaze. You don’t see this change in posture, though. You’re too busy looking anywhere else, all of a sudden feeling quite embarrassed.

Nor do you see the private smile that disperses across Hyunjin’s lips; his eyes softening so, so marginally when they peer at your profile; his hand twitching where it rests on his knee, as if contemplating reaching for you with a mind of its own.

Thirty seconds. That is the amount of time you have left to bask in this otherworldly tranquility. And then he speaks.

“I want you to meet my parents.”

Your arm reacts before your mind can. Without having to turn your head an inch, you smack him squarely in the bicep, sending him crumpling against his door with a bark of a laugh; “please,” he adds, and you’re biting back a smile as you hit him again, with less conviction this time.

The cab driver nearly misses an exit, too busy wondering about the peculiar pair in his backseat and the nature of your relationship. He can’t tell if you hate each other or if you’re married.

One year ago. Seoul, South Korea. 8:42 A.M.

“I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me.”

“For my newborn daughter.”

“Yeah, okay. I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me for your newborn daughter. What does that brat have that I don’t?”

“My genes, to begin with.”

“That’s unfair. She’s using—”

An important-looking pair of women step out of the nearest elevators, the clacking of their heels ricocheting sharply off the lobby walls. Hyunjin straightens his back so quickly he thinks he pulls a muscle. He and Seojun incline their heads in perfect sync, their “good morning”s prim and professional.

“She’s using cheats,” Hyunjin hisses the second the women are out of earshot again, and this wrests a laugh from the older man at last.

Around one month prior, Seojun confided in Hyunjin that he and his partner were expecting their first child soon, and that he would be putting his career on indefinite hiatus to welcome her into the world.

Hyunjin had never felt so conflicted in his life. On one hand, he’d grown closer to his stylist over the last two years than he’d thought possible, and he knew it was stupid to be anything but delighted for him and his expanding family. On the other hand, it was precisely because they’d become so close that he wanted to grab the man by the ankles and shake the decision clean out of his body. He couldn’t imagine a dressing room or tour bus without him.

Today is a Saturday, but it’s also Seojun’s last day with the company. Hyunjin dragged himself to the JYP building at half past eight with much less reluctance than he let on. He wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

“Fourth floor,” Seojun instructs after the pair enter the elevator, and Hyunjin presses a knuckle to the according number. “Thanks.”

The doors slide shut; the floor numbers tick upwards.

“What was her name again?” Hyunjin asks.

“Y/N,” Seojun returns. “Y/L/N.”

“Is she here already?”

“No, she’ll be here at nine.”

There’s a small pause.

“Hyung.”

“Hm?”

“I feel like I’m being married off to another family for political reasons.”

“God, I can’t wait to be free of your theatrics.”

At this, the two men make eye contact; exchange smiles. The elevator announces their arrival to the fourth floor, and they step through the doors.

“You’ll be in good hands,” Seojun reassures. “She’s the best of the best. I hear she’s basically running the industry these days. I’m surprised she agreed to take you on.”

“I’m surprised an old fry like you knows someone like her,” Hyunjin replies, and the look Seojun gives him is so withering that he thinks he pulls a muscle again with his apologetic bow.

“You’re not wrong, though,” Seojun concedes. “We happened to work on the same project back when she was still a small name, and we’ve kept in touch ever since. She’s a great kid. Ambitious, hardworking, strong as hell—”

They arrive outside their destination, and Hyunjin holds open the door to the conference room. Only to find that Seojun has stopped in his footsteps, temporarily stunned by a new realization.

She reminds me of him.

“He’s forgotten how to walk,” the him in question whispers like he’s narrating a nature documentary, and the moment is over. “Is this what fatherhood does to a man?”

Seojun kicks Hyunjin into the room by the seat of his pants.

The minutes pass slowly. Seojun moves his eyes between the door and his phone every few seconds, visibly antsy about the imminent meeting. In the meantime, Hyunjin makes the groundbreaking discovery that these office chairs are absurdly and almost suspiciously comfortable. All it takes is a chin upon his palm and a few seconds of shut-eye, and he’s suddenly slumped over the table, snoring softly into the crook of his elbow.

At 8:57, Seojun’s phone lights up with a new notification. At 8:58, he notices that Hyunjin is asleep, and closes his hand around the crumpled receipt in his pocket. At 8:59, he scrunches said receipt into a ball and launches it in Hyunjin’s direction. It hits him squarely on the head, and the boy is nearly knocked to the floor like a bowling pin.

“For that,” Hyunjin sputters, “I’m the godfather.”

“Absolutely the hell not.”

Then, it is 9:00.

When the door of the conference room opens, Hyunjin is still trying to gather his wits, wondering if the bastard is leaving the makeup industry to secretly pursue a career in professional basketball. He just barely notices the unfamiliar figure who steps into his line of vision.

“There she is,” Seojun greets warmly, rising to his feet right away. “God, how long has it been? Two, three years now?”

You’re not doing anything remarkable when Hyunjin sees you for the first time, simply walking across the room and bowing graciously in Seojun’s direction, but he is immediately under the vague impression that you’re cutting through space as you move, scorching the particles of air that dare obstruct your path.

With his head cocked slightly to the left, like a fascinated puppy, Hyunjin watches the stunning smile that forms on your lips when you take Seojun’s hand; your finger as it tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear with the elegance of rippling silk. His mind feels impossibly slow, like you’ve tapped open his skull and robbed him of his ability to think.

Then, you toss Hyunjin a look over your shoulder, and he’s reminded of lightning forking towards the earth. Terrifying, volatile, beautiful.

“Something like that,” you say, turning back to Seojun, and time starts to move again. “It’s great to see you again, Mr. Lee. Congratulations on the baby.”

“Please, Seojun is fine,” he answers hastily. “And thank you. Thank you for all of this, actually. I can’t tell you how excited we are to have you.”

“You’re too kind—I’m excited too.”

Upon uttering the word “we,” Seojun delivers Hyunjin a fleeting side-eye; he takes the hint and pushes himself to his feet, feeling uncharacteristically clumsy as he moves towards you.

The second time he meets your gaze, it feels wrong, almost, for him to hold it for as long as he does. Like he’s approaching your throne with his chin held high and eyes fixed forward instead of his head sweeping the ground.

Except he swears he senses a strange warmth within the rings of your irises, and he spends every second of eye contact following, chasing it, almost craning his neck with how badly he wants to get a closer look. Until he’s as close to you as is socially acceptable for a first meeting and comes to a halt.

He ends up losing its trail, but he won’t forget that it’s there.

“My client, I’m guessing?” You say, extending your hand. “Y/N. It’s a pleasure.”

Your fingers are freezing cold where they meet his, and Hyunjin already knows that melting the permafrost that coats your flesh and guards your soul will be the tallest task of his life.

But he finds his next words accompanied by an involuntary smirk; he’s nothing, if not tenacious.

“Hyunjin,” he returns. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

Nine months ago. Paris, France. 6:16 P.M.

Hyunjin isn’t sure why—maybe you forget that he can still steal glances at your reflection over your shoulder or through the gaps of your fingers—but he’s learned over the last four weeks that you’re different, gentler, when you’re doing his makeup.

Your cold hands request instead of demand that he angle his head a certain way or suck in his cheeks. Your syllables are rounder somehow, your voice never traveling above a murmur. Even your eyes mellow out when you move in really close, your pupils dilating as you detail the final touches to the fresco you’ve painted upon him.

Your expression doesn’t give you away (it never does), but his hunch is that there’s a sprinkle of doting somewhere among the intense focus. That would explain why he feels like a flower in the moments when your fingertips and gaze move so carefully over his skin, like you’re touching his petals, trying not to tear them.

Too bad you never let him daydream for long.

“Close.”

“Huh?”

“Your eyes. Close them.”

His lashes have hardly brushed his lower lids when you begin to empty what feels like an entire bottle of setting spray on him. At the moist surprise, Hyunjin’s features scrunch up around his nose and he lets out a distraught hack like an old man.

A few seconds later, the barrage stops, and he cracks open a wary eye to scope out his surroundings. You wait until he does this to give his face one last spurt.

“Witch,” Hyunjin mutters, clawing back up the vanity chair.

“Thank you,” you reply, completely earnestly.

And whatever Hyunjin was going to say next suspends instantly on his tongue when you bring the pad of your thumb to the very edge of his lower lip and drag it across the soft flesh. He wonders if you know how hard he tries not to look at your mouth whenever you tend to his. He wonders if there’s anything you don’t know.

“You smudged your lipstick already.” There’s a small streak of coral pink on your hand when it falls back to your side. “See? That’s why we need the setting spray.”

“Uh huh.” And Hyunjin spots a ghost of a smile flit across your face, gone nearly as soon as it appears. The only evidence of it ever existing is the quickened heartbeat it leaves behind within him.

“You’re done, by the way,” you say, stepping aside. “Take a look.”

He slips out of his seat and moves closer to the vanity, peering at his reflection as curiously as if he’s never seen it before. But that’s how he’s felt since he started working with you.

Seojun was right: you are the best that the makeup industry has to offer. Hyunjin has come to understand this for multiple reasons. Your phone screen is incessantly illuminated by new notifications and incoming calls. The other stylists heed your advice like it’s the law. Brushes and pencils move like water when it’s you maneuvering them. And then some.

He would call what you have “talent,” but he knows it’s more than that. You show him a new version of himself every time you turn a mirror in his direction, like there are facets of him that are visible to you and you only. As much as he delights in the notion that you have such intimate knowledge of him, it should be impossible, considering you’ve only known him for two months. So no, it’s not just talent that you possess. It’s some combination of talent, hawkish perception, and raw artistry that is utterly inhuman—and sexy as fuck.

Speaking of sexy. Hyunjin’s look is relatively rudimentary tonight, the makeup light, the outfit a simple black tank top beneath a jacket and pants made of bright red velvet. But it’s the details that tie the whole thing together: the wide, loose sleeves causing the jacket to slip continually off his shoulders; the inner layer tight in all the right places. His face doesn’t look half bad either, with the sultry carmine powder that fringes his eyes and the intentionally mussed state of his hair. He pushes a hand through the dark locks, regarding himself with thorough appreciation.

You appear in his periphery as you start cleaning up your work station. “You can just take the jacket off when your sweat glands start malfunctioning, by the way. I thought you’d appreciate that detail.”

At this, his smize cracks into a laugh, the sound loud and uninhibited and uniquely yours to hear. “You suck.”

He looks away from his reflection just in time to glimpse another of your phantom smiles, and he thinks it’s so painfully on brand that the two times it’s appeared tonight have both been from you making yourself laugh. You might be the most insufferable person he’s ever met. He might be obsessed with you anyways.

“Well?” You implore. “What do you think?”

“No notes.”

It’s the answer you’re expecting. You survey him from head to toe one last time, decide that you, too, are satisfied, and slip your makeup into your bag; hike its strap over your shoulder.

“I’ll see you after the show, then.”

You have an important conference call to attend before tonight’s concert, hence why Hyunjin had to come in early for hair and makeup. This is also the reason why the two of you have been the only people in the dressing room for the better part of an hour.

It’s rare that he ever gets you alone, and he doesn’t want it to end. Not just yet.

“I lied, actually,” he calls. “I do have notes.”

You already have one foot out the door when you hear this, and you turn around so slowly and in such disbelief that he has to fight to constrain his laugh—the concept of imperfection is truly unthinkable to you. Insufferable, like he said.

“Do tell,” you say, dropping your bag back onto the floor.

“You have any jewelry for me?”

You chew on this for a moment. You did have a selection of necklaces prepared for tonight, but they were heavy and numerous, not exactly the best-suited for the group’s dynamic sets. You still like them, granted, and you know Hyunjin would as well.

You articulate all of this to him, and he asks if he can take a look at them anyways. “Come here, then,” you say, the words so tantalizing when they fall from your lips that nearly trips over himself trying to obey.

You take out a flat rectangular box from your bag and set it down in front of the lightbulb-studded mirrors. Hyunjin observes quietly as you show him its contents: three thick, gold chains with varying lengths and boasting different pendants, plus a beaded bracelet and an assembly of rings of the same material. His devious plan aside, he does love the selection.

“You’re sure you won’t be uncomfortable?”

He nods, and you pick up the longest of the three chains; turn to him expectedly. He takes this as his cue to move closer to you, except he overshoots a little, and he feels the tips of his shoes accidentally bump into the ends of yours; discerns the warmth emanating from your body against his own. He expects a withering glare, a kick in the shin, maybe, but you don’t seem bothered by the proximity at all, unblinking as you bring your hands around the either side of his neck and fasten the first necklace with a soft tap. Your fingers then brush over his collarbones to adjust the pendant, and he thinks your hands would have to be numb not to perceive the frantic heartbeat threatening to burst straight out of his skin.

Entire minutes pass before Hyunjin musters the courage to actually look at you. By then, you’re already working on the third and final necklace. It’s not a surprise that your face is mere inches away from his; he’s been watching your reflections out of the corner of his eye; he knows you’re closer to each other than you’ve ever been. But there are parts of you that the mirror doesn’t show—the soft curve of your lashes, the concentrated narrow of your eyes, the shapely protrusion of your pursed lips—and these surprise him so thoroughly that he slips and slides out of his right mind.

You are the type of beautiful that’s been around longer than humans have, the same as that of the true blue color of forget-me-nots. And Hyunjin feels enveloped, intoxicated by you from this minuscule distance. The idea forms numbly in his head that maybe, just maybe, he was put on this earth to admire you.

In this inebriated state, he makes a venturesome decision.

When you finish centering the last pendant upon the his chest, you are about to take a step back and review the updated look, but you’re debilitated by the feeling of fingers grazing over your hip—lightly, so lightly that you mistake them for a gust of wind at first, but the contact is enough to push the small of your back against the edge of the counter. Then, both of Hyunjin’s hands reach behind you, pressing flat against the marble surface, and, just like that, he has you right where he wants you, ensnared between cold stone and hot flesh.

And so begins an equilibrium so fragile that it’ll shatter if one of you so much as blinks the wrong way, your rattled breath fluttering against his lips, his eyes dark and hooded and out of focus as they survey the fine lines of your expression. It still doesn’t give you away (it never does), but he finds that in this moment he just doesn’t care.

“Let me take you out,” he murmurs. “One date.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You reply under your breath.

“You know what I’m talking about, love.”

Upon uttering that last word, he angles his head almost imperceptibly, the movement challenging, daring you to say something about it. But you don’t. You merely hiss out a whetted “you’re fucking crazy,” and that’s his opening to drag this on a little longer; push your limits a little more.

“About you? Damn straight.”

At this, finally, fucking finally, there is a semblance of something in your face that isn’t just your usual mildly-irritated nonchalance. Instead, he detects surprise in the whites of your eyes as you widen them; as you part your lips with a response that only comes much later.

And he’s surprised by your surprise. Surely, with your skills of observation, you would’ve noticed long ago how his world shrinks down to only you and your gorgeous voice and your confident glare and your shitty sense of humor whenever he’s been granted the privilege of your presence.

This might be the first time he’s admitted it out loud, but he hasn’t tried—hasn’t been able—to hide how he feels about you, not now, not ever. It’s been that way since the moment the sole of your shoe met the carpet of that conference room on the fourth floor of the JYP building.

“Hwang—” You begin.

“Hyung!”

At the sound of a third, new voice, your arms tense like you’re about to shove Hyunjin off of you, but he only leans in further, so that his lips almost graze your jaw and your hands have nowhere to go except the taut surface of his chest. The surprise is gone; now you’re just pissed. He can feel the heat of your furious eyes and the tremor in your hands as you form fists around the fabric of his top. But he takes his sweet time in scooping up the bracelet and rings, and only afterwards does he pull away from you and straighten to his full height.

“Hey, Innie!” Hyunjin chirps, and Jeongin materializes in the doorway, looking thoroughly perturbed by the older boy’s sunny tone. “What’s up?”

In the meantime, you turn around to snap the lid of your jewelry box shut, and it takes a singular glance in the mirror for a truly horrible realization to settle upon your shoulders. You don’t think anybody would be able to tell even if you announced it outright, but you know yourself and the little nuances of your face all too well.

You’re flustered.

You feel like a horror movie heroine breaking the fourth wall.

“Nothing, weirdo. I was just announcing my arrival,” Jeongin says. Thank fuck you did, Hyunjin thinks to himself, completely unaware of the epiphany you’re having behind him. “Chan-hyung mentioned you were here already? Why?”

“She’s in high demand.” Hyunjin points out the she in question by jutting his chin in your direction. “The usual.”

“Ah.”

Jeongin inclines his head towards you in polite greeting. You return his hello, but your expression starts to feel tight when his eyes dart between the strange smile on Hyunjin’s face and your awkward stance (still glued to the edge of the counter) as he drops his duffel by the couch. The boy isn’t stupid, unlike his older counterpart.

“I saw a vending machine on my way here,” Jeongin says, turning to leave the room again. “You want anything, hyung? Noona?”

“I’m okay, thank you,” you say.

“I’ll have whatever you have,” Hyunjin says.

Jeongin flashes a thumbs-up and dips out of the room, perhaps a little more hastily than he intends to come across. And then there are two. Again.

You wait until you can’t hear his footsteps anymore, and then you turn to glower at Hyunjin so intensely that he thinks you’re about to place a curse on his whole bloodline.

Then, your phone starts vibrating, and he knows he’ll live to see another day.

“You still owe me an answer,” Hyunjin calls as you turn around and leave the room.

“Don’t hold your breath,” you reply.

One day, I’ll break her, is the predominant thought that resides in Hyunjin’s head as he slips on the remaining jewelry; watches your figure disappear around a corner. One day, I’ll break his face, is the predominant thought that resides in yours as you stalk away. That’s the two of you, in a nutshell.

Six months ago. Osaka, Japan. 3:03 P.M.

When you walk into the dressing room, you find Haeun hunched over an overflowing photo album with her hands forming fists in her hair, muttering to nobody in particular, “I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”

There’s an amused look in your eye as you set your bag down by Hyunjin’s empty vanity chair. She hasn’t noticed your presence yet; approximately three hallways down, the members are rehearsing for tonight’s performance on the main stage of the Kyocera Dome, and the music is so loud that you think you actually saw the walls vibrating while you were in the hallway moments ago.

You rise to your tiptoes and encroach upon her, waiting until she’s within reach to tickle the back of her neck. She nearly flies out of her seat with a shriek that can be heard over the heavy bass.

“Never gets old.” You hand her the photo album that went soaring also, and Haeun snatches it back with an affronted flourish.

“I can’t remember the last time you said hi to me normally, unnie.”

“Me neither, now that you mention it.”

Haeun and Han are your favorite stylist-idol duo in the world because they’re so eerily similar—and it’s adorable. They both illuminate every room they walk into; they both have grins too big for their faces, laughs too loud for their lungs. You always regret leaving your sunglasses at home when you catch sight of the effulgent pair.

But today you cannot detect the usual radiance in Haeun’s voice, nor so much as a hint of her easy grin. Then again, that’s another quality that she and her client share; they’re both well acquainted with the burdens that come with unwavering passion.

Every stylist has their own modus operandi. Haeun’s is a scrapbook of images that she cuts out and saves from catalogs, advertisements, newspapers, et cetera. You’ve seen it many times before, but never in such a state: messy handwriting stuffing the margins to their very brims, numbers and symbols like clusters of rainclouds over a sea of different outfits, arrows and circles and squares highlighting pant cuffs and cascade collars and dangling earrings. Telltale signs that Haeun hasn’t a clue as to what Han will be wearing tonight.

You gnaw on your lower lip, deliberating your next move. You end up placing a firm hand against the album’s cover and pushing it closed.

“Come with me,” you say. “We’re gonna try a new approach.”

Haeun opens her mouth to protest, but unfortunately you have an extensive track record of being right.

“What do you have in mind?” She sighs instead.

“You’ll see.”

With that, you stand up, tuck a small towel under your arm, and angle your head in the direction of the music.

The two of you make your way through the labyrinth of hallways that comprise the venue’s backstage. Eventually, the color of the floor changes from speckled white to solid black, and you step onto the part of the stage that is concealed from the audience by drawn curtains and heavy equipment. You say a quick hello to the group’s manager as you dip past him, and eventually reach the edge of the curtains, where you and Haeun have a good view of the eight members as they run through their setlist for tonight’s concert.

Haeun settles into the spot beside you, still confused as she follows your gaze.

“Let me ask you this,” you say, just audible over the din. “Can you style a performer if you don’t know how he performs?”

And understanding seeps over her features like poured tea.

“I want you to watch him,” you continue. “Tell me how he performs.”

Han’s part begins, as if on cue. His voice rings out through the empty stadium as he ducks to the front of the formation, a microphone held loosely to his lips, his face taut with focus. Haeun stares at him for some time, silently trying to fathom her observations, but she sees you shaking your head in the corner of her eye.

“Don’t think, Haeun. Just speak.”

She blows out a deep breath before obliging. “It’s hard to picture Han doing anything but laughing or making other people laugh, he’s so goofy and lighthearted most of the time. But he’s like a different person on stage. He’s so intense, it’s almost intimidating. Not intimidating in a douchey way, though—you just get the impression that he’s very confident in himself and his music.

You don’t say another word, but don’t need to. She’s hit her stride.

“His voice and enunciation are so clear. It’s crazy how he sounds exactly like the studio recording. Plus, his delivery feels genuine; he’s not just reciting lyrics, but speaking straight from his heart.

“And this is gonna sound bad, but I didn’t know Han could dance. Like, yeah, I knew that he could dance, but not like this. His movements are so sharp that I feel like my attention is being—”

Right there.

She cuts herself off, reaching the same conclusion.

“It’s his turn to talk, and he wants you to cling to his every word," Haeun articulates slowly. "He’s demanding your attention. He needs you to listen. That’s how he performs.”

A satisfied smile bolts across your face like lightning. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Haeun pictures her scrapbook again, and there are now only a few articles of clothing and accessories that fit the framework you’ve helped her forge. She’s almost dizzy with disbelief, tearing her eyes from Han to look at you instead.

“You’re brilliant, you know that?”

“I do, but I appreciate the reminder.”

She can’t help but giggle. It’s a you answer if she’s ever heard one. “Do you do that with all of your clients?”

Haeun asks the question arbitrarily, without thinking. But you respond in a way that she doesn’t think she’s ever witnessed before, and she’s momentarily baffled by the sight: you hesitate.

As the song’s final chorus approaches, Hyunjin is the one folding himself into the center of the eight-person throng. You can only see his back from this angle, but even then it’s palpable how expertly and effortlessly he molds his body to the modulations of the music; how much fervor and feeling he expresses with every jerk of his spine and flex of his hands.

Within a few short seconds, innumerable descriptors and sensations skim the surface of your mind—but one word knocks the rest clean out of the water, the way it always does when you watch Hwang Hyunjin perform.

Artistry.

“No,” you reply. “Not all of them.”

And where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?

Haeun furrows a brow, understandably puzzled by this response, but you don’t elaborate. Partially because you feel like being coy, but mostly because you know that any explanation you offer will sound like a confession.

The song ends, leaving your ears ringing with the abrupt absence of sound. The members hold their poses with heaving shoulders, staring out into the empty stands until the stage manager’s voice comes through the monitors.

“And that’s a wrap! We’re all set for tonight. Good work, everyone.”

There is a ripple of movement around the stage as the boys relax. Jeongin jogs over to Minho, hoping to review a particularly challenging dance break; the manager asks Chan if he has a second to discuss travel logistics; Seungmin plops onto the edge of the stage and downs the rest of his water; Hyunjin beelines toward you the second he sees you, because of course he does.

You get a good look at him as he skips closer. Stray blonde locks plastered against his damp skin, tank top dyed several shades darker by the perspiration rolling down his neck, the muscles of his arms actually rippling as he swings them around stupidly, a shit-eating smile plastered across his stunning face.

You’re annoyed before he says a word.

“I didn’t know they were letting fans backstage now,” he hums happily. “Want an autograph, gorgeous?”

“Put a sock in it.” You whisk the towel you’ve been holding in his direction. “Wet freak.”

But he catches and tosses it over his shoulder straightaway, and your heart sinks to your fucking ankle. You’ve seen this movie before. You know how it ends.

“No.” You take a shaky step back. “No, nope, don’t even think about—”

The next thing you know, Hyunjin is lunging towards you and winding his arms around your waist, nearly sweeping you clean off your feet as he pulls you into his sweaty embrace. To your complete dismay, your face presses flat against the clammy plane of his chest. “Call me a wet freak again, go on,” he manages to say through his laughter.

In response, one of your hands wriggles free of its slippery prison and snatches the cuff of Hyunjin’s ear with impressive accuracy. He yelps and loosens his hold on you, but doesn’t relent completely, not even when he catches sight of the murderous expression on your face and cackles so forcefully his whole head is thrown back.

You tighten your grip. “Wet,” you seethe, “freak.”

“Ow—okay, don’t make it hot, what’s wrong with you?”

“Wha—what’s wrong with YOU?!”

As the two of you dissolve into your fatuous arguing, Haeun is no longer sure that she’s still standing here. She’s not even sure if she’s in her right mind anymore. She thinks she might be hallucinating the way everything about Hyunjin softens next to you, or the way your biting tone only seems to nibble when it’s him on the receiving end.

“Psst. We’ve been placing bets on them. You want in?”

Han suddenly materializes next to Haeun, and she would have been jumpscared into a different dimension if she wasn’t so fixated upon the bizarre occurrence before her.

But what if she’s not hallucinating?

No, not all of them, you’d said, like you were disclosing a forbidden secret.

“Yes,” she says, and Han beams. “Absolutely.”

Three months ago. Seoul, South Korea. 2:26 A.M.

On a tranquil Saturday night, you’re sitting at your desk, your knees tucked to your chest, the newest episode of your drama playing quietly on your laptop, a half-empty glass of rosé and open sketchbook laid before you. This is your happy place—a safe haven that the trials and tribulations of the real world can’t reach. But you think you’ve really gone and lost your mind when you find yourself thinking about your job.

Well, not your job, exactly. More like the man who makes your job feel fucking Sisyphean.

You know your way around fabric and foundation better than anyone, but you have never struggled with anything as much as you have trying to navigate Hyunjin. You show up to work every day ready to just put some makeup on the man; instead, you wind up stumbling around the potholes of his dimples and the hills of the veins that run over his forearms and hands like a hopeless drunkard. Scouring the creases of his smile and the oscillations of his voice like they’re topographical maps. Mentally replaying your interactions with him time and time again like you’re monitoring security footage, trying to detect illicit activity in every casual touch he leaves on your shoulder or waist; every babe or gorgeous he throws your way, seemingly without a second thought.

You’ve been trying to understand him and his intentions for seven months now, and your efforts have yielded no fruit whatsoever, save for a few theories that you feel insane for even humoring.

You down the rest of the blush-colored liquid, and as you set down your empty glass you notice your fingers itch with a familiar urge. The pen that you’ve been twirling over your knuckles stills, then swivels; its tip hovers over the last free corner of the sheet of cartridge paper below you. And then it presses upon the surface and starts to move, as naturally as if on its own.

When you were little, you came across a children’s book that you no longer remember the name of, about a little girl with a magical pen that brought her every drawing to life. You decided then that you would one day be that girl.

At some point, the subjects of your incessant sketching became almost exclusively runway models and makeup advertisements. You cemented that you wanted to work in fashion as early as your high school graduation, and by then you already possessed the conviction and charisma of the industry’s most experienced members. Your portfolio was stellar; your personality prophesied of wild success. So your career took off, propelled by the neverending positions and projects that various companies continually laid before your feet.

You stand and pad to your kitchen to refill your glass, only to bring the entire bottle of wine back to your room instead. With one hand, you flick the cap off and lift the whole thing to your lips; with the other, you seize your pen again, not wanting to lose momentum.

For the year or so after you joined the industry, you basked in your idyllic prosperity. Even the doodles you scrawled on random napkins during banal business lunches would appear on some of the world’s most renowned faces the next week. You had indubitably become the little girl from your story; made a career out of giving your imagination tangible form. And what a fruitful career it was going to be.

If only you knew how it would strengthen you in ways you never wanted.

The first time someone called you cold, it took you a while to realize that they were talking about you. The phrase was said so casually and lightheartedly that it sounded at first like a piece of unimportant small talk. But the whisper of cold bitch was then followed by a bout of stifled laughter and what was undoubtedly your name. Your heart stopped along with your footsteps, and you looked towards the source: two interns whose names you had yet to learn, while yours was already in their mouths.

You felt nothing until you were three stops away from your apartment, and then the bottom of the subway gave out beneath you and suddenly you were feeling everything. Only confusion, hurt, and rage at first, but then the other emotions that you’d been smothering tirelessly for who-knows-how-long tore free of their cerebral shackles too, and together they formed an amalgamation of anxiety that closed up your throat within seconds.

As your pen studs details into a shapely jawline, you remember how you’d shoved your way off the subway and made a mad dash into the night air. You remember how you collapsed against a utility pole in an unfamiliar neighborhood, how your knuckles paled around the ashen wood, how your tears tumbled over your lips and salted your tongue. You remember wanting to go home so badly that you thought your ribcage would cave in on itself with the weight of it. You remember begging for air, for you.

By the time the oxygen had returned to your lungs, the streets were empty save for you, crouched on the curb, your face buried in your arms, spent, shattered, and alone. You were only nineteen at the time.

You are now twenty-two, and the word “cold” has become a regular guest in the lodgings of your heart. You never invite it over, but you’re no longer surprised to find it at your door. It’s a thief, swiping pieces of you when it thinks you’re not looking—a fragment above the fireplace, a scrap from the cracks between the couch—and you know whenever you’re being robbed, know that you lose parts of yourself upon its every visit. But better that than acknowledging what you lose.

You allow it to walk away with full pockets every time.

Hyunjin does not.

“Three words to describe yourself. Go,” he said a few days ago, the two of you heading back to the tour bus after a filming session.

You were so used to these irrational inquiries of his that you didn’t bother trying to dodge this one. “You first.”

“Smart, sexy, suave,” he said immediately, but burst into a sheepish laugh at the sight of your weary glare. “Fine, fine, let me think. Ambitious, for one. Introspective, definitely—maybe overly so. And artistic. I’d like to think so, at least. Satisfied?”

The most creative person you knew doubting his own ingenuity was absurd to you, but you nodded begrudgingly. It was a good answer, for the most part.

“Now you.”

Honestly, the thief had surfaced the moment you heard the question, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to inform Hyunjin of its existence. Not because you didn’t trust him—you did, more than you had anyone in years—but because you didn’t know what you’d do with yourself if he agreed. You weren’t sure your heart would be able to take it.

When you met the boy’s gaze, though, the carob brown of his eyes was so curious and so comforting that you suspected that was never a possibility.

“Cold,” you mumbled. “I’ve been called cold before.”

There was a pregnant pause. You found yourself holding your breath. And then—

“That’s a joke, right?”

Hyunjin began to count off his fingers.

“Mean. So mean. Impossibly, infuriatingly confident. Talented, stubborn, strong. Funny, sometimes, I guess, though I’d rather you hit me with a metal pipe than admit that ever again.”

At this, you caved; a laugh erupted from your lips, leaving a genuine smile in its wake.

“Determined. Eloquent. Bossy. Some kind of evil, twisted genius. Contemplative, caring, compassionate. Fearless,” he went on. “You get my point. You’re a lot of things, Y/N, but cold isn’t one—”

He was about to say something mind-numbingly stupid. You could sense it in the air.

“—and not just because you’re hot.”

You smacked his bicep, the smile on your face now an uninhibited, helpless grin. And as he vanished into a fit of high-pitched laughter, you thought you sensed him crack open your door and slip your missing artifacts back to their rightful places.

Hyunjin began to climb into the bus, and you caught the cuff of his sleeve, your feet still planted on the pavement.

“Thank you,” you said.

The tremors of his fond chuckle traveled to your very core.

“Idiot,” he sighed softly.

Idiot, you write, and the drawings are complete.

When you stand up, the bottle is mostly gone—and so are you. You splash some water on your face in lieu of your skincare routine and prod the inside of your mouth a few times using a dry toothbrush, and then you dive beneath your duvet and are dead asleep in minutes. Your slumber is interrupted only by dreams of a world where your theories about Hyunjin aren’t just theories.

If you’d had even one mouthful less of rosé, you might’ve remembered that you picked up your phone and opened your most recent conversation somewhere between steps two and three.

[3:10 A.M.] To: Hwang Hyunjin (Stray Kids, JYP) Audio Message.wav

Hi. I’m drunk and I’m going to regret this tomorrow. But that’s tomorrow’s business. There’s something I need to tell you tonight.

After I moved to Seoul, I used to get these bouts of homesickness. Not in a standard ‘I wanna go home’ kind of way, but in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below me. I was always ready for it to swallow me alive. I would’ve been happy for it to.

But I haven’t felt that way since I met you. I realized this not too long ago, and it threw me for a fucking loop. I’ve never felt seen the way you see me. I’ve never been known the way you know me. Every time I look at you or hear your voice, it feels so much like returning home that I don’t have to dream of it anymore.

You called me fearless the other day, but you’re wrong. I’m terrified. I’m terrified that history is going to repeat itself, that another home will slip through the cracks between my fingers and there will be nothing I can do to stop it. And that’s why I’m so hesitant towards you, towards whatever this is, because I don’t want to go through that ever again.

So the thing I need to tell you is that I care about you. I care so much that I’m scared speaking it into existence will make it real and vulnerable to all the worst parts of the world. But it’s not speaking it into existence if I’m drunk, right? Maybe I have no idea what I’m talking about. Maybe you’ll never even hear this. So it doesn’t count. That’s how that works, surely.

Sorry if this was totally nonsensical. And sorry that I’m so bad at feelings. You must think I’m impossible, and I don’t blame you.

Good night, Hyunjin. Thank you, again.

One month ago. Los Angeles, United States. 12:37 A.M.

When Hyunjin steps out of the hotel’s tall glass double doors, he’s wearing a teatree facemask, and his bags are draped over the crooks of his elbows like he’s an upper-echelon socialite on his way back from a lavish shopping spree. And then he sees you standing next to the curb, and the situation dawns on him in bits and pieces.

You’re the only one here. The vans that were supposed to take you to the airport are nowhere to be seen. Boarding begins in four minutes.

A soft flinch crimps his features. Oops.

“Tomorrow night,” you’re saying into your receiver, but your attention is on him only, your penetrative gaze putting the dead in deadpan. “The absolute earliest. You’re sure?”

When you finish listening to the manager’s response, you heave a sigh that sags your shoulders and end the call with a jab that should’ve splintered your screen protector.

Then, you start walking towards him.

“Hi,” Hyunjin says, his eyes pleading for mercy. “You are so talented and beautiful. I don’t tell you that often enough, do I?”

He expects you to grab him by the cuff of his ear again, to throw him a retort that’s twice as mean as it is witty, something along those lines. But you merely push your suitcase in his direction, and it is then when he notices that your face is hard enough to chip enamel; that your eyes are eerily, entirely empty. The tendril of warmth that’s always dancing among the subtleties of your expressions, that he’s always pursuing to the very borders of his dreamscapes, is nowhere to be seen.

A shiver travels down Hyunjin’s spine as he curls his fingers around the plastic handle.

Something’s not right.

“We’re gonna have to stay here another day,” you say. “Can you check us in? I have some calls to make.”

“Us?” Hyunjin repeats.

“Junghan could only reserve one room,” you reply, your phone already glued back to your ear. “The hotel is fully booked for the next few months.”

With that, you’re already preoccupied with the next thing, turning to the side to reschedule a meeting. But Hyunjin can only stare blankly at your profile, trying and failing to grasp that he’s going to spend a night with the subject of his every daydream. Though you might be leaning more towards the nightmare end of the spectrum at the moment, considering the way your head snaps back in his direction like a woman possessed.

Go, you mouth, and he obliges.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin is in the elevator by himself. He speculates it’s an ingenious, intentional choice that the lights are turned off, so that whoever’s inside can watch the psychedelic lights of Los Angeles sprawl further and wider the higher they go. But he can’t think of anything except for the subzero nothingness where your irises should’ve been.

Hyunjin’s initial guess was that he crossed a line with this missed plane, but the more he thinks about it the clearer it becomes that this isn’t an isolated issue. It’s the culmination of something bigger. Something continuous.

You have become as familiar to him as the lines of his eyes or the ridges of his knuckles. He’s learned where to look for your feelings when he can’t find them in your face; studied your words and the undertones of your voice like they’re verses of scripture. Yet, it was around two months ago when Hyunjin looked at your side profile and couldn’t recognize you. He’d blinked, startled, and then you’d asked why he was looking at you so strangely, and everything returned to normal. He wrote it off as a side effect of sleep deprivation and paid it no more mind that day.

Except it happened again a few days later; again, not too long after, and Hyunjin began to suspect that he was losing his mind. You didn’t seem all that different—a bit more taciturn than usual, maybe, but you’d been busier than usual, too, your workspace always full of empty coffee cups by the end of the day, the pages of your planner more colorful and crammed than ever. The minor variances never struck him as a reason for worry.

“Stupid,” Hyunjin whispers bitterly.

He replays your interaction one more time. You, shoving your suitcase against his palm, telling him to go check in. Him, fastening his hand around the handle, sensing the bottomless void within you, feeling like he’d been dismissed from before your throne.

As he steps off the elevator and walks towards your designated room, he doesn’t understand how or why—but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s failed you.

Nearly an hour passes. The room only has one bed, so Hyunjin turns off the lights, folds himself onto the armchair by the floor-to-ceiling window, drapes a complimentary robe over his shoulders, and tries to sleep. He doesn’t know why he even tries. He’s exhausted, but he knows damn well there’s no hope of him getting any rest until he has you in his proximity again.

He doesn’t look at the door when he finally hears it open, but the knot of tension in his chest comes undone as soon as your silhouette appears in the hallway. He takes out his first real breath since leaving you at the hotel’s entrance.

You hear the sound it makes. You fall still.

“Hyunjin?”

His heart physically aches at how tired you sound. “Yeah?”

“Oh, you’re awake,” you answer. “Move to the bed. You’re not sleeping on that thing.”

He remains where he is, his chin resting on the side of his fist, his eyes glued to the flickering panorama of neon lights below him. You crouch to unzip something, and there’s a heavy thud of metal meeting cloth, presumably your laptop being tossed onto the bed’s mattress.

“Hello? Did you—”

“Is everything okay?”

A short pause follows his interruption.

“I still have a few emails to write, but everything’s been rescheduled, so as long as you don’t miss tomorrow’s flight, too, we should be—”

The robe slides off his lap as he pushes himself to his feet. “That’s not what I mean.”

The only source of light in the room is the lone light above the entrance, but it’s enough for him to see your face and the surprise etched upon it. You open your mouth, utter one syllable, and stop yourself immediately after, stunned into silence by the sobriety in Hyunjin’s expression.

“Enlighten me, then,” you say finally.

“You really don’t know?”

“What is there to know? That you missed a flight and pissed me the fuck off? Trust me, I’m aware.”

“No, that’s not—”

“So what are you talking about, then? Why are you talking in riddles? Fuck, what is it that you want from me?”

There’s real frustration in your voice, and it’s the first time you’ve shown him any emotion in pure, unadulterated form. With this, Hyunjin understands that he was right; this conversation is heading towards a culmination of some kind, and so are you, with the devastating force of a natural phenomenon.

He wonders if you’re prepared to destroy yourself, too.

“I know how you are around me,” you whisper. “You’re always acting like you’re trying to unearth something, and I figure this ‘something’ must be wonderful, because you look at me like I’m made of stars; you speak to me like you’re serenading a lover. But I am constantly, ceaselessly haunted by the possibility that this ‘something’ doesn’t exist, that you’re looking for the wrong thing in the wrong person.

“I know it’s selfish to ask for anything more than what you’ve already given me—you’re so kind, Hyunjin, and you’ve been nothing but since the day we met. But grant me one more wish, even if it is the last time you ever do.

“Tell me what you see in me,” you plead. “Otherwise, I will spend the rest of my life mourning the months of yours that you wasted on me.”

With that, it occurs to Hyunjin, falls upon and cracks open his mind like a piece of firewood, that you have never been aware of—never asked for—the throne you sit upon.

For an indeterminate amount of time, the two of you stay there, standing in silence on opposite sides of your dark hotel room. You haven’t felt anything like this in a long time, your chest heaving with your heavy breaths, your vision muddied by both the lack of light and the desperation searing through your windpipe.

When Hyunjin finally begins to speak, his words wrest the oxygen from your lungs.

“After you moved to Seoul, you used to get these bouts of homesickness.”

Your mind careens; your heart reels.

“They came in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below you.” He takes a tentative step towards you. “You thought it was going to swallow you alive. You would’ve been happy for it to.”

You never got to listen to your voice note. You were blacked out when you recorded it and horrified when you discovered it in your chat logs the next morning; the wretched thing was unsent so quickly that you couldn’t check for a read receipt.

But there’s not a doubt in your mind that these are your words falling from Hyunjin’s lips.

“You haven’t felt that way since you met me, though.” He is only a few feet away from you now, and getting closer still. “You’ve never felt seen the way I see you. You’ve never been known the way I know you.”

God, you said that? Did you propose to him too?

“You’re terrified that another home will slip through the cracks between your fingers and there will be nothing you can do to stop it.” Hyunjin flattens his left hand upon the drywall next to your ear; pushes you back ever-so-gently against the hard surface. “I must think you’re impossible.”

And he brings his face so, so close to yours; looks at you with so much adoration, so much tenderness, that you feel the final bulwark around your heart fracture—

“I don’t,” Hyunjin breathes, cradling your cheek, “because you’re not. And I want to prove it to you, even if it takes me the rest of my life. That’s what I see in you.”

—and crumble.

You form fists in the lining of his hoodie. Hyunjin’s hand tightens where it lays over the curve of your jaw.

When you crash your lips upon his, he tastes the metallic sheen of electricity and the salt of tearwater both; he witnesses crying lightning, for the first time in human history.

Present day. Cannes, France. 9:15 P.M.

Hyunjin never thinks when he fucks you.

One part of it is that he physically can’t; his cognitive facilities shut down when he has you quivering beneath him, like his desire to pleasure you is too overwhelming for his mind to bear. The other part is that he doesn’t want to. He’s afraid that the voices of cynicism and trepidation that plague his mind every waking moment will taint the actualization of his wildest dreams.

Lucky for him, you manage to erase his mind on a daily basis with only one accidental touch or an apparition of a smile, so he doesn’t stand a chance whenever you let him between your legs.

“Trust me?” He whispers, imprinting the words upon the inside of your thigh.

“More than anyone,” you breathe, and just this has him tenting against his satin slacks.

Hyunjin used to see you scolding managers or moving racks twice your weight and think that was you in your element—tonight, he learned otherwise. You were so confident that even just the way you puffed your chest out prompted heads to turn and low voices to ask for your name; so charming that even by the end of your self-introduction you had every guest you spoke to eating out the palm of your hand.

Eating out your pussy, though, is Hyunjin’s privilege alone.

He wraps his fingers around the hem of your dress and pushes it upwards, creating a halo of red fabric around your midriff; slides your panties off your legs and tosses them over his shoulder. All obstacles out of the way, Hyunjin winds his arms around your thighs and pins your hips to the mattress, slotting himself between your knees as they fall apart. Your ankles fold over the top of his head, and you’re about to ask if he’s okay like this, but then you feel the hot muscle of his tongue trace over your dripping folds—and every word of every language you’ve ever known is dispelled from your brain and your mouth in the form of a stuttered, euphoric moan.

He teases you first, drags his mouth over you so that he’s lapped up all of your slick, and just when you feel your patience thinning he pulls you apart with reverent hands and begins to suckle on your clit, as attentive to your every solicitation as always. You arch your back so high off the bed that your ankles knock Hyunjin’s head down a few inches, but the new angle is even better; grants him access to more of you.

He reinforces his grip around you, presses his torso right up against the side of the mattress, and gorges: sluices your labia until you’re spilling from his chin onto the sheets; flicks against your bundle of nerves until it’s pulsating and swollen on his mouth; fucks his tongue against your favorite spot until you’re curling your toes, seeing the whole solar system.

“Coming,” you blabber after some time. Tell me something I don’t know, he thinks to himself. “Coming, Hyune. I’m—fuck—”

Hyunjin is aware of the way you clench so hard around nothing that your pelvis hurts. He is aware of the way you’re so dilapidated from pleasure that you’re genuinely struggling to breathe. He doesn’t care. He wants to get the cadences of your climax tattooed into the gray matter of his brain, and there can’t be rests in the sheet music, can there?

He presses a hand flat on your stomach in preparation for your body’s protest, then returns his face to its place between your thighs; starts to leave kitten licks around the edges of your puffy folds before you can finish riding out your high. You press your tongue against the back of your front teeth, emitting a pained hiss as you draw a sharp breath, tears stinging at your eyes.

“Son of a bitch—”

“Trust me?” He asks again, his voice vibrating against your sore cunt, and your complaints quiet into whimpers as you bring a hand over your quivering mouth, and nod.

At least Hyunjin bridles his thirst the second time he eats your pussy open, his lips smacking openly and slowly over your every inch except the one that would be truly unbearable for you right now. He’s so rough and so fucking careful at once like he can’t decide between obliterating and worshipping your cunt.

He’ll end up doing both.

Within a few minutes, your legs have gone slack on either side of Hyunjin once again, and another coil has begun to tighten behind your bellybutton, equal parts pain and pleasure—but he knows your pussy just as well as he does your person by now, and it’s not long before the former is compounding with the latter.

Round two has a faster ascent and a steeper drop. He finds your spot again with the precision and ease of a trained marksman and fixates upon it like a man starved. It has your cries devolving to incoherent profanities and, to his unfettered delight, your foot actually shaking, your heel tapping against the back of his neck every time it comes down.

As if referencing a metronome, Hyunjin matches the rhythm of his tongue to your accelerando. Only when your leg is nearly convulsing does he wrap his lips back around your clit; slide two fingers into the place he leaves empty and pumps them into you until you are liquifying, igniting around him, your mewls lamenting the second orgasm he plucks from your core.

After your body has stilled, Hyunjin lifts his head, his face drenched in perspiration and saliva and you. His eyes travel over the slopes of your arms and the hills of your breasts, over the tears streaming from your eyes and staining the pillow you lie on. It is this last bit that has him shrugging off his shirt and undoing his dress pants with one hand, palming his throbbing cock with the other.

He clambers over you, and the kiss that follows is filthy, your mouth falling apart when he rolls your nipples between his fingers, strands of saliva suspending between your tongues before dripping down onto your collarbone. You can sense what he wants in his craving lips, his pleading tongue—and you know he won’t ask for it. He’s tested you enough tonight; he’d rather your comfort than his pleasure.

But you guide his leaking head to your entrance, returning his stupefied look with a watery smile.

“Love me?” You ask this time, for the first time.

There is not even a nanosecond of hesitation when he answers, “with everything in me.”

He comes inside you the moment he bottoms out, your name leaving his lips in breathless, desperate repetition like a broken prayer as he topples off the same cliff he’d dropped you from moments ago. You curl a hand in his hair as he stutters against you, bring your lips flush against his ear, and whisper that you love him too—and the sight of you beneath him blurs he also starts to tear up.

This is the reality Hyunjin lives in, presumably because he was a saint in his past life, and it would be his utmost pleasure to see it through.

Two years later. Milan, Italy. 11:28 A.M.

For the last half hour, a ray of sunlight has repeatedly struck the diamond that sits between the second and third knuckle of your ring finger, and the Vogue journalist on the other side of your desk thinks he is slowly losing his vision. But when he asks his final question, your hand comes to a much-appreciated stop, the fountain pen you’ve been twirling around clattering to your tabletop.

“Where do you find your inspiration?”

As the journalist blinks the phosphenes from his eyes, he finally manages to get a good look at the face of Versace’s newest designer, and he detects something ineffable and warm in your expression.

“My inspiration, hm?” You fall silent for a short time, thinking. “If you asked me this at the start of my career, I’d have said ‘people.’ Their postures, their expressions, their wardrobes. I knew I was a goner when I watched a fashion show for the first time and noticed how the models’ attire helped them harness their innate power and grace—I wanted to orchestrate that kind of symbiosis, too. In that aspect, nothing has changed, actually. I still find wonder in human beings, and not just the ones on the runway. I think it would be difficult not to, don’t you?

“Some time ago, a good friend of mine was having trouble with an outfit for her client. She asked me a similar question, and only then did I realize that it was no longer just people that inspired me most, but a singular person. I had always been skeptical of the idea of a ‘muse’ until I met him. But I could only spend so long denying how he ventured closer to my soul than anything ever had, how he knew me and saw me like nobody ever could. He understood my art. He was my art, so—”

Your eyes dart over your ring, and the journalist would’ve flinched out of habit if he wasn’t so mesmerized by your eloquence.

“—where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?”

A few seconds elapse, and then you clear your throat and straighten your back, returning to your office from your trip down memory lane.

“That’s the long answer, anyways. The short answer would be my fiancé.”

The journalist laughs, and he doubts you’ll give him this next piece of information—but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try.

“And who would that be?”

He’s right. You don’t answer the question. But you do flash him an enigmatic smile, and for some reason it reminds him of lightning.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

#omg hi hello this is so kind :') thank you so much #'your writing makes me feel incompetent even trying to express my thoughts on this fic' LSASJALKFJ #NO PLS DON'T FEEL THAT WAY i wanna hear them it would my absolute honor #and i'm overjoyed that you liked the writing style and the plot lovely!#so so appreciate u taking the time to read and feedback <3 #btw #i did a mini double take when i saw the url of your main blog #i've been meaning to read the boy is bad news for ages but wanted to do so in one sitting #so... next time i have a free weekend... i'll see u in ur notifs #have a lovely day/night~#comments <3 #*w: crying lightning

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hon3y-y · 7 months ago

Note

Roomie!sukuna doesn't even get horny for anyone other than you anymore. You have the wettest, nastiest pussy he's ever seen- and he deserves the best so nobody but you will do. You're fucking so many other fine men now that you dont even give him a second glance when he walks out the shower in just a towel to tease you. And oh, his temper when one of your hookups pick you up and you don't come home for the weekend. Or even worse, they stay for the weekend. Sukuna has never let a girl sleep over at the apartment but now there are two colognes in the bathroom, two pairs or men's shoes at the door, and he can almost never see you in the living room without some other man hanging off your side

read the other parts here! : part 1 part 2 part 4

he’s literally so embarrassingggg it’s not even funny. he’ll walk around and flex his muscles, smirk on his puffy lips as the water drips down his ripped torso. he stands outside your open door, you’re looking down at your phone deciding on whether to spend the night at choso’s or nanami’s (pick choso, nanami gets up at like 5 am 🙄), “showers empty..” sukuna basically purr’s, resting his arm on the doorway.

and you literally could not give less of a fuck💀

you just nod, mumbling a ‘thanks’ as you focus on putting both their names in a generator and letting that choose your fate for the night. let’s just say sukuna was extremely angry when a motorcycle pulls up and you just giggle and hop onto it, kissing the stupid leather clad boy while throwing on the custom bikers helmet choso had made for you. and to top it off, sukuna had to physically restrain himself from blowing up your phone on where the fuck you are??

messages;

ryo<3: didn’t see you this morning

you: i’m staying with choso for the weekend! sorry, should’ve told you last night:/

you: i also won’t be home after wednesday satoru is taking me to this festival! i’ll send pics😋

ryo<3: have fun 👍

omfg he’s losing it. he literally will spend the whole time in the gym, refusing to be in the empty apartment for longer than eight hours for sleep. he feels like there’s a cement brick in his chest when you’re whisked away by these men. but nothing is worse than when he stays over.

he being satoru.

it was becoming a huge issue. his longest “sleepover” was a week. a week where you weren’t even home for half of it. but sukuna was. he was there for all of it.

there was now a third toothbrush taking up countertop space in the bathroom, he would find satoru’s clothes in the wash (which would always somehow be in there whenever ryo specifically had to use it??), and gojo absolutely loved to make out with you everywhere but inside of your room and sukuna started to hated it. publicly claiming you in front of the guy who literally made it possible🙄 unbelievable.

let’s just say you take a break from bringing satoru over, doing your best to settle the tension at home. but sukuna couldn’t let it go, not when he stares at the stupid fucking blue electric toothbrush and knows that it’s only temporary.

at this point he didn’t even give a fuck about the other guys, you can keep them as long as he’s added onto your roster.

it’s been a while since the two of you had a movie night. something that used to, at the very least, happen once a month has been delayed due to your extra activities. the two of you relaxed into the couch, the movie was a random one you found choosing whatever looked the best by cover and for the first time in a while, sukuna felt like he had you.

“did you buy the candy?”

“shit, yeah. i think i left it in my room?”

“go get it while i make the popcorn!” you smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling excitedly. you looked so cute and soft, and ryo got a glimpse of your cute pink panties when you bent over to grab something so he was feeling just as good. he could already picture the little damp spot he’d create after teasing you and then force you to beg and make it up to him.

he thought about it the whole walk to his room, picking up the bag and then back to the living room, fantasizing about what he plans to do. and just as he’s about to turn the corner, a head of white fluffy hair is laying on your lap, legs spread to take up the full length of the couch. and the only seat available? the one farthest from you.

“i hope you don’t mind, satoru said he missed us!”

us… sukuna looked down at gojo, looking at the content quirk in his lip while he snuggled into you more, moving one of your hands into his hair to play with it. ryo’s eye twitched before he put the bag down and went back into his room, the door slamming behind him. the noise makes you force satoru up, a pit forming in your stomach. you didn’t want sukuna to feel uncomfortable in his own house—

“damn, what’s he so mad abo- he got macha kitkats!? mmm~”

*bonus*

sukuna is literally in his room about to dry heave because??? what alternative version of himself gave him such bad karma?!? in his room like this;

but quietly, because he DEFINITELY doesn’t want you to see him like this. such a fein🤦‍♀️

a/n: i didn’t put smut because i didn’t want to get repetitive BUT should we finally let sukuna get a taste?? part 4 where he finally gets her?? lmk🫶

*not edited*

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5sospenguinqueen · 27 days ago

Text

Taste | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary: She’ll just have to taste you when he’s kissing her. When Max and Kelly break up, the pair of you start something sweet. But, it only lasts a short while when your conflicting schedules drive him back into her arms.

Warnings: Kelly Piquet slander.

Requested: No, I’m just obsessed with making up fantasies whilst I drive home from work with my music on

Faceclaim: Sabrina Carpenter (yes, I know she’s used a lot but I stole her song and her occupation so why not steal her face)

F1 Masterlist

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f1wags just posted

liked by user1, redbullracing and others

f1wags max verstappen and kelly piquet both confirmed they have seperated, posting a short statement on their instagram stories. the news comes after months of speculation after explosive arguments were caught on camera

3,306 comments

user1 omg did anyone see that red bull admin liked this and then unliked it

user2 thank god! i’ve been waiting for this day for ever

user3 can we see him date someone his own age now that didn’t go after him when he was a teen?

user4 finally! turns out manifesting works

user5 he always looked so upset after they argued. hopefully he finds someone good for him

user6 hear me out, but how hot would he look with yn ln

→ user7 like they’d ever cross paths. he’s an athlete and she’s a pop star

→ user6 yes but my point is that they would look hot together

→ user8 he did have one of her songs playing in the background of a stream once?

user9 i love how she’s really laying it on thick in hers and he’s just like “yeah, it’s over”

→ user10 we love an unbothered king

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mclaren just posted

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mclaren we have a special guest in the garage this weekend. thank you @/yn_ln for joining us

6,098 comments

yn_ln thank you so much for having me! i had an amazing weekend but i don’t think i’ll be in a rush to do hot laps again

→ landonorris don’t be like that. i know you had fun!

→ yn_ln idk who trusted you with a licence but they should be fired

→ landonorris idk why they call you short and sweet :(

user1 she looks soooo good wtf liked by maxverstappen1

oscarpiastri it was really fun having you in the garage. thank you for making lando seem tall. now he’ll be in a good mood for the rest of the weekend

→ yn_ln f1 girlies, can you tell me if he’s dating the curly haired one?

→ oscarpiastri well played. i apologise for bringing your height into this

→ user2 yes, yes they are, yn

user3 chat, is this real? my fave singer in my fave team’s garage! two worlds colliding

charles_leclerc omg please stop by ferrari. my girlfriend, alex, absolutely loves you

→ yn_ln come pick me up! (‘cause i don’t know my way around the paddock) and i’d love to meet her

user4 omg somebody tell max. i hope she gets lost and stumbles into red bull

→ user5 my delusions might come true if that happens

→ user6 he saw her when charles was walking her over to ferrari

→ user4 and?!

→ user6 nothing. he turned around and went back into the garage

→ user7 yeah after he went bright red!

f1wags just posted

liked by user8, shortnsweet and others

f1wags only two months since his split from model, kelly piquet, max verstappen has been linked to singer, yn ln. the pair have been spotted numerous times on dates and caught in moments of affection

2,999 comments

user8 yn’s clothing brand liked this!

→ user9 that doesn’t mean anything?

→ user8 well, considering that is her own brand, and they’re a part of her image, i’d say it means something

user10 anyone else notice that they’re wearing different outfits in every photo, which means they’re all from different days/dates

user11 i’m going feral

user12 okay but you can’t even deny that this is them because it very clearly is

user13 people said i was crazy when i talked about these two being together!

user14 they’re so hot together. i might actually combust

user15 i’m (s)creaming

user16 the hand holding 🥹 they’re not just fucking

user17 my new otp

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

kellypiquet just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, piquetjr and others

kellypiquet my 🩷

2,987 comments

maxverstappen1 ❤️

→ user1 aha this is such a dry response lmao

user2 wtf? i thought he was with yn

→ user3 that was just a rumour

user4 he looks much better with yn

→ user5 yeah but she can’t give him the stable relationship he needs so no wonder he went back to kelly. she’s always there lmao

→ user6 yeah because she never lets that man go. she’s possessive and it’s not healthy

user7 max is so cute with p

user8 my favourite thing about this post is that all of these pics are old because max is currently in a press conference with his long hair, not these short strands

user9 how could he leave yn like this? they were so cute together

(comments on this post have been disabled)

yn_ln just posted

liked by landonorris, kellypiquet and others

yn_ln in honour of my tour starting, please enjoy my new single taste! 💋

14,033 comments

user1 omg a new album, a new tour and an additional song?

alexandrasaintmleux got this on repeat

→ charles_leclerc this is true. it’s all we’ve had in the car

→ alexandrasaintmleux don’t act like you don’t know all the words

user2 this was 100% written because of the max situation

jennaortega but how hot do we look

user3 not kelly liking this!

→ user4 i like to think the middle picture is aimed at her for stealing yn’s man

redbullracing blue is definitely your colour

→ mclaren she looks better in orange

→ scuderiaferrari we think she should try red next

→ yn_ln i’ll wear whatever colour invites me to watch rich men drive around in circles next

→ alpinef1team pink it is!

landonorris i liked the parts where you died

oscarpiastri oh so you’re allowed to make height comments but i wasn’t?

→ yn_ln please refer to the middle picture

user5 chat, i can’t stop thinking about “he pins you down on the carpet, makes paintings with his tongue”

→ user6 max verstappen, i was not familiar

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

yn_ln just posted

liked by redbullracing, oscarpiastri and others

yn_ln i heard there’s some sort of race on so i thought i would show some support. let’s play spot the team

10,001 comments

user7 omg did you see that charles and alex were there!

→ user8 and pierre and kika

→ user9 well, we know who got charles in the divorce

user10 we all know who red bull wants in max’s garage 👀

→ user11 the fact that they liked a gossip post of him dumping kelly and are now all over yn’s insta

user12 okay but the placement of the bulls has me weak in the knees

user13 who’s your favourite driver?

→ yn_ln daniel ricciardo

→ danielricciardo showing this to everyone i know

→ user14 does that include max? liked by danielricciardo

user15 we love a petty queen because you can’t tell me the writing isn’t aimed at kelly and max

→ user16 and the bull instead of the kiss

mclaren we’re hurt. truly hurt that you didn’t post a pic with our logo

→ yn_ln you have a whole insta post dedicated to you!

alexandrasaintmleux the hottest concert i’ve ever been to

→ charles_leclerc still can’t believe she arrested you when i was right there

landonorris does this mean you can come to the race? like you’re practically already there??

→ oscarpiastri i second this

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

requests open. i'm just slow haha

coming soon; lewis hamilton baby angst

this wasn’t due out until next week but MAX WON!!! And so I’m posting this in honour of that. I’m just sorry this was planned as angst 😬😂

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25

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norrisainz33 · 2 months ago

Text

Miami Baby | MV33

☆ summary: actress and avid f1 fan visits the paddock for the first time and she is a certain world champion’s celebrity crush.

☆ pairing: max verstappen x famous!reader x grid!platonic

☆ fc & warnings: suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume.

☆ requested: nope!!

☆ a/n: this was one of the first fics i ever started writing and just havent had the nerve to post it. this is my first time posting a written and smau fic so bear with me here 🥹

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has added to their story

[story 1: guess what i’m up to this week] [story 2: princess treatment fr 💅🏻]

view story replies

user2: MIAMI GRAND PRIX?!

user4: omg are you finally going to a grand prix!!!!???

yourbff: AND SHES DRIVING A FERRARI?!

ynuser: YES!! this is a dream come true

yourbff: i’m so happy for you y/n/n 🤍 FORZA FERRARI!!!!

ynuser: FORZA FERRARI

tomholland2013: Hope you have the best time in Miami!! Z says that you have to come with us to Silverstone tho

ynuser: thank you tommy!! count me in 🫶🏻

user3: MAMA Y MIAMI

user1: car or driver - level impossible

ynuser has made a post

liked by scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, sabrinacarpenter, zendaya and 2,657,101 others

ynuser: hot new driver alert, watch out boys! Make sure to catch my hot lap with The Carlos Sainz and say hi if you see me this weekend in Miami 🫶🏻❤️🏎️

view all 2,103 comments

user3: the way she was giggling like a little kid as carlos whipped the car around , oh i love her

user4: no bc she’s finally at a gp living her dreams

user6: she’s literally just another celebrity?

user5: user6 you don’t know the lore! she’s been an f1 fan since before she got famous and she’s been friends with rebecca and alex for quite a while

carlossainz55: had an absolute blast driving with you! looking forward to seeing you this weekend!

ynuser: likewise!!!

scuderiaferrari: bellissima! ready for an exciting weekend ❤️

iamrebeccad: hottest hot lap i’ve ever seen😍😍

maxverstappen1: hot lap with me next

charlesleclerc: since when do you do hot laps?

user8: AM I READING THIS RIGHT

user9: MAX!???????????

user10: i’m sorry is the max verstappen trying to flirt rn

charlesleclerc has posted a story

view story replies

ynuser: thank you charlie 🫶🏻

charlesleclerc: bien sûr y/n

user3: do you wanna be my chauffeur next?

maxverstappen1: charles you have got to introduce me to her

charleslerclerc: to who?

maxverstappen1: y/n

charlesleclerc: max are you ok?

maxverstappen1: what do you mean??? yes, i am ok??

charlesleclerc: i’m just shocked you willingly want to be introduced to someone??? let alone a celebrity?

maxverstappen1: charles 🙄

maxverstapppen1: she may or may not be my celebrity crush ok

charlesleclerc: ohhh mon ami you should have said that sooner

charlesleclerc: i’ll get alex and rebecca on the case 😉

maxverstappen1: oh god no charles i just meant an introduction i don’t need anyone on the case 😭

user12: 3 pretty best friends

user14: the little matching outfits?! im sick

ynuser has added to their story

view story replies

user15: you were made to wear ferrari merch

iamrebeccad: can’t wait to show you off to all the other boys 😍

ynuser: but you’re the only one i want 😫

iamrebeccad: i know darling but im not the only one who wants you 😉

ynuser: CRYPTIC what does that mean

alexandrasaintmleux: i’m so glad we finally got you to ferrari mon amour but we should definitely take a walk around the paddock!! you can meet some drivers that aren’t in red - maybe some blue

ynuser: i’ll go anywhere with you

maxverstappen1: i think red bull blue would look better on you

ynuser: blue? perhaps!

user17: begging to know where you got that belt it’s so slay

user22: one of these drivers has got to wife you up you’d be the best wag

user18: can’t wait for all the pictures of you on the grid

ynuser has added to their story

view story replies

charlesleclerc: find max! he’ll help you get back to ferrari

user14: steal all their notes and bring it to ferrari so we can have a better car

landonorris: come to mclaren its way better here

ynuser: ok then come get me muppet i’m lost 😭

user87: steal one of the cars and give it to carlos!!!

user23: ms girl what are you doing there?? i thought you were supposed to be filming your new movie!

iamrebeccad: 🤭🤭🤭

ynuser: oh so you did this on purpose?

user55: project get ferrari a rocket ship is a go

The pit lane was humming with activity as mechanics and team members alike continued with their duties after a productive qualifying session. You glanced around looking for your friends, alex and rebecca, who had convinced you to take this walk in the first place, but you couldn’t find them in the sea of red bull employees. Letting out a sigh you pulled out your phone hoping to see some sort of reply from either them but there was nothing.

"y/n?" a familiar voice questioned, startling you out of your thoughts. you were met with a confused looking max verstappen and you felt your cheeks heat. max was still in his white fireproofs with his suit pulled down around his waist and you'd be lying if you said he didn't look incredible. you may have accidentally admitted to alex that max was your crush on the grid and you had a sneaking suspicion thats why both her and rebecca magically disappeared leaving you here.

"yes! hi max!!" you said quickly, holding out your hand for him to shake. "it's a genuine honor to meet you!" max looked down at your outstretched hand and paused for a moment before taking it in his own.

his hand engulfed yours as a grin stretched across his face, "the honor is mine, y/n - i'm actually a pretty big fan of yours."

"you are?"

max chuckled, "yes? is that hard to believe?"

"no, no .. i just didn't think you'd know who i was! i mean - im just surprised is all," you said quickly, realizing you were stumbling over your words but max didn't seem to be phased.

"don't be surprised, you are quite talented," max took a sip from his red bull can and you watched as his eyes danced around the pit lane. "do you want an escort back to ferrari?"

"yes, please."

"great, come with me," max rested his hand on the small of your back as he ushered you through the red bull garage and back to the paddock. he made idle chit chat as you tried your very best to focus on anything other than the electricity you could feel from where his hand met the fabric of your dress.

"ahh there you are mon amor!" alex cooed as you and max approached the ferrari hospitality. rebecca looked between you and max with a knowing look on her face. you made a mental note to talk to them both later about how they couldn't just leave you places unattended even if it meant meeting max.

"well would you look at this," charles patted max on the back as he walked past taking his place next to alex. he had a devilish smirk plastered across his handsome features as his eyes travelled between the two of you.

"max was kind enough to help me navigate my way back here after alex and rebecca so sweetly ditched me in the pit lane."

"oh was he now? well then we must repay my dear friend! how about you come to the club with us after the race tomorrow max?" charles looked expectantly at his friend.

max let out a sigh, "i suppose i could be persuaded."

"thats the spirit!" charles clapped his hands together, "i'll text you the details mon ami."

a night club? in miami? with max verstappen? this ought to be interesting.

ynuser has posted multiple stories

[story 1: race day let’s go] [story 2: im not crying!! YOU are] [story 3: idk if miami can handle us @.alexandrasaintmleux]

view all story replies

user16: you crying over lando winning his first race is so real

landonorris: i am crying u r right girl

ynuser: as long as ur not cryin in the club

landonorris: not yet !! but the night is young!!

user22: ok body is tea wtf

alexandrasaintmleux: you’re so beautiful i love you so much

ynuser: YOU are so beautiful. i love you more my girl

yourbff: why are you !! a ferrari!!! crying over a mclaren?!

ynuser: bc it’s lando and we love bob in this house

yourbff: ok yeah fine

user12: miami is NOT ready for your hotness that’s for sure

ianrebeccad: ok i need to borrow that outfit from you asap. also pls get to the club faster im stuck here without you both 🥹

ynuser: you’re the one who wanted to “get ready” with carlos and not us soooooo

user44: i’m foaming at the mouth

maxverstappen1: understandable to cry over me not winning

ynuser: i’m glad you get it 😫

user45: that’s not a face card, that’s a whole face economy

user33: who are these divas?

max could feel the music pounding through his chest as his fellow club goers danced to the beat. feeling all sorts of nerves, he brought his gin and tonic to his lips and took a few big gulps hoping the liquid courage would hit him soon. his eyes couldn’t help but follow you as you swayed your entire body to the music without a care in the world. readjusting the hat on his head, he watched as your skirt inched lower on your hips and he could almost feel his mouth start to water.

“max just go and talk to her!” charles yelled over the music pulling max out of his thoughts.

“i can’t.”

“quoi? what do you mean you can’t?”

“she’s just… i just… i can’t!” max finished off his drink and set it down on the table in front of him. “i mean look at her,” max explains throwing his arms up in exasperation, “she’s so beautiful!! i’m not sure i’d even know what to say.”

“just ask her to dance or to get another drink!” charles looked over to you, alex and rebecca as you danced with carlos and lando.

“i can’t.”

“max - if you don’t i guarantee someone else is going to try and make a move on her.” charles was now staring max down with a scowl on his face, “and i know that would upset you more than just growing some balls and talking to her!”

max frowned, realizing his friend was right. “i’m just scared she won’t like me.”

“i have insider knowledge that says she fancies you.”

max’s eyes widened, “and you didn’t lead with that?”

“no because i wasn’t supposed to tell you!! now please for the love of god let’s go get her.”

max and charles navigated their way through the sea of bodies until they made it to your little group. you looked up at max with a bright smile and he felt the butterflies in his stomach intensify. before he lost all of his nerve, he blurted out “get a drink with me?”

you nodded, “i’d love to!” max smiled and grabbed your hand so that he wouldn’t lose you in the mass of people.

there was very little available space at the bar which left you leaning against the counter and max directly behind you leaning against you so that he could hear the bartender. not a single coherent thought was going through your head, all you could focus on was the way max’s body rested against yours, the warmth it offered you, the way he was resting his strong hands on either side of you and how if you turned you’d be face to face and able to kiss him right on—

max tapped on your shoulder pulling you out of your thoughts and earning a slight jump from you. “the bartender asked what you wanted to drink, y/n” max explained into your ear causing goosebumps to spread like wild fire across your skin.

the bartender was looking at you expectantly, “oh! i’ll take a gin and tonic please!!” you panic ordered not being able to come up with anything else on the spot. “so sorry,” you quickly added as the bartender turned to make your drink. mentally you scolded yourself for not being able to get it together but boy was keeping it together hard when the max verstappen was very much taking up your personal space.

after thanking the bartender for your drinks, max took a step back allowing you to turn and look at him. he was in a pair of his classic skinny jeans, a backwards black cap, a black tshirt that hugged his arms perfectly and he wore a soft smile as he looked down at you with his big blue eyes. “wanna dance?” you asked before taking a gulp of your drink.

max’s grin grew, “absolutely.” you decided not to give him any time to reconsider and instead grabbed his hand and drug him out to the dance floor. you could feel eyes on you both but you didn’t care. “i should likely preface this with the fact that i’m not much of a dancer,” max admitted sheepishly. he was taking note of how close you both were now. you had stopped rather abruptly in the middle of the dance floor leaving him so close to you that he could steal your breath if he really wanted and oh boy did he want to.

you laughed effortlessly, “everyone is a dancer if they try hard enough, max!" The DJ began playing a remix of one of your favorite songs and max watched intently as you began moving to the music. He threw back the remainder of his drink and made quick work of discarding it, feeling more courageous now.

you quickly noticed max was still very much standing completely still. “it’s all in the hips,” you cooed putting your free hand on his hips and pushing him so he would move. max obliged and began swinging his hips back and forth timidly, not having a ton of room to move out at the center of the dance floor. "atta boy!" you praised giving him a smirk.

max almost choked on air at that comment from you — what could he say? he was a sucker for praise and that comment gave him the confidence he needed to place both hands on your hips and pull you in so that your body fit snuggly against his own. max had a feeling that this was going to be a very good night.

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6 and 26,264 others

f1gossip: last night max verstappen and actress y/n y/l/n were seen attending a party with many of the grid members. they seem to have gotten very cozy out on the dance floor sharing quite a few kisses. it’s also reported that the pair were seen leaving together at the end of the night.

view all 249 comments

user1: OMG WHAT MY WORLDS COLLIDING

user2: nah he looks so fine in that hat omg

user8: i knew him offering that hot lap had to mean something

user6: they’re both so hot i’m sure their night was … actually imma stop myself before i get banned

user3: this was orchestrated by alex and rebecca i just know it

user8: i could see charles and lando getting in on it too tbh

user4: jealousy doesn’t look pretty on me but dear lord am i jealous

user5: he may have bagged the baddest baddie alive.. how did he manage that in those skinny jeans

user4: listen those skinny jeans make his thighs look real biteable

user5: and you got me there

user9: need more max and y/n content asap

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thank you for reading!! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

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dreamwritesimagines · 3 months ago

Text

Sunshine

AN: Hi my loves! So, this is the first installment of a oneshot series and I hope you’ll like it! Please don’t forget to tell me what you think!

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: The first ray of sunlight holds many promises.

Word Count: 2844

You were no stranger to the feeling of inadequacy.

For you it was around every corner; impossible to get away from at least for the last couple of years. Even now, in the clothes you had borrowed from your best friend in an attempt to look more formal and serious, you couldn’t help but feel way out of your element.

Yet in your humble opinion, the very intimidating mansion you were currently gawking at didn’t make this any easier.

Your heart was slamming against your chest as you tried to keep your breathing under control, your tongue shooting up to wet your dry lips, then you looked down when you felt a tug on your sleeve. Theo stared up at you with wide eyes, making your heart clench but you managed to give him a bright smile despite the fear clouding your mind, and crouched down to get to his eye level.

“Hey bean,” you said, pushing his round glasses up the bridge of his nose. “What’s going on?”

“What if they don’t like me?”

You gasped and pressed a hand over your chest, feigning shock.

“Are you kidding?” you asked. “They will absolutely adore you. I myself am more worried that they will love you too much.”

He blinked a couple of times in confusion. “Too much?”

You nodded fervently.

“Yeah!” you said. “And then I’ll have to fight everyone in there to get you to myself every weekend.”

That managed to make him giggle and you pretended to be offended, narrowing your eyes.

“You don’t think I could take them down?”

“Can you?”

“Why yes I can,” you said, sticking your nose in the air. “I just don’t like to brag about it because that’ll scare people off, you know?”

He smiled wide and you pinched his cheek, then turned your head when a pretty girl with gloves on her hands cleared her throat.

“Hi, I’m Rogue,” she introduced herself. “New enrollment?”

“Yeah,” you said after a beat. “Yeah, hi.”

“Professor is expecting you, please follow me,” she said and you stood up, then took Theo’s hand and followed her into the building.

The interior of the mansion was as gorgeous and intimidating as it was on the outside. Theo looked like he was nearly hypnotized -which made sense, your apartment had to be the size of a simple storage room in this place- and he stared at the ceiling with his mouth hanging open, his eyes darting around.

“I feel like you should know that because of the new policy Professor will need his parents’ signature in order to enroll him,” Rogue said, making you snap out of your haze before you cleared your throat.

“Um, I’m the parent.”

That made her pause only for a moment and she pulled her brows together, looking between you and Theo.

“Oh, sorry about that!” she said. “I just assumed…”

“No no I get that a lot, please don’t worry about it,” you assured her quickly, waving a hand in the air. “I had Theo the first year of college and—”

Never got to finish that year or the rest.

“As I said, I get that a lot.”

She gave you an apologetic smile, then stopped in front of a door.

“Wait a moment please,” she said, knocking on the door before stepping inside and Theo tugged at your sleeve.

“It’s so pretty here!” he whispered and you tried to swallow the nervous lump in your throat, then smiled at him.

“Isn’t it?” you whispered. “It’ll be fun to go to school here huh? The brochure said they even have a maze!”

“A maze?” he asked, his eyes widening behind his glasses. “Like in the movies?”

“Mm hm, just like in the movies,” you said. “And a lake!”

“Where is the lake?”

“I don’t know yet but they’ll show you,” you said and frowned when the thought hit you. “But you’re not going there without a teacher, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise,” he said as you hooked your pinky with his and the door opened again.

“You can go in,” Rogue said and you thanked her, then turned to Theo.

“Don’t go anywhere, okay?” you asked and entered the huge office to see the man in the wheelchair behind the desk.

“Hello sir,” you said, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts as you approached him to shake his hand, then took the seat across from the desk.

“Hello,” he said with a calm smile. “I’m Professor Charles Xavier, we spoke on the phone. Y/N, isn’t it?”

“Yes sir,” you said. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

“Of course, it’s my pleasure,” he said. “I take it you’re here to enroll your son as we spoke?”

You nodded your head, fighting the urge to bite at your nails and took Theo’s file from his other school out of your backpack, then put it in front of him so that he could examine it.

“He’s um, he’s really good at math,” you said, stumbling over your words. “I don’t know if that’ll be helpful here but he’s—he’s very good at a lot of classes really.”

“I must admit, he is going to be the youngest student here and the fact that his power has shown itself this early on…” Professor Xavier trailed off, your stomach doing a painful flip. “We will have to work hard, but I’m confident that we can guide him and teach him how to use his abilities for good.”

You nibbled on your lip, clenching and unclenching your hands.

“I know it’s a boarding school but he’s not used to being away from me and I’m not used to being away from him,” you admitted, “You said on the phone that the students’ weekends are free?”

“Of course,” he said. “Some of our students only stay here on weekdays to attend their classes, and they spend their weekends with their parents.”

You let out a relieved breath. “Okay. That’s nice to hear.”

“I know you’re worried,” he said, his voice completely calm and soothing. “It’s very normal to be worried but trust me, you’re making the best decision for him.”

“I know,” you said, trying to convince yourself and him at the same time. “I’ve done a lot of research and—and I want him to be safe and this place seems like the best place to teach him how to be safe.”

Professor Xavier pulled out a paper from his drawer, then pushed it in your direction with a pen.

“We only need your signature,” he said and paused for a second. “That is if the father…?”

You shook your head.

“Not in the picture, sir,” you said as you signed the paper, your heart beating in your ears. “Um, it’s just me and Theo.”

“I see,” he said. “Well, I promise you that Theo will be in good hands, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you said, putting the paper back on the desk and fixed your hair with a shaky hand just so that you could keep yourself busy, and Professor Xavier offered you a small smile.

“You can always contact me if you have any other questions,” he said. “I’ll talk to Theo after Rogue gives him his tour, and I’ll see you on Friday?”

“Yes sir,” you said. “Thank you, have a nice day.”

“You too.”

When you walked out of the office, you caught the sight of Rogue talking to a tall man with tousled dark hair, but you couldn’t see his face since his back was turned to you. For a moment you considered letting Rogue know that you were out, but figured it would be rude to interrupt, so you approached Theo who was patiently waiting for you.

“Alright bean,” you said as you crouched down to look him in the eye, trying to swallow the lump in your throat, desperate to keep the tears at bay at least until you were back in the car and Theo couldn’t see you. “What day is it today?”

“Tuesday.”

“And then we have…?”

“Wednesday, Thursday and Friday,” he said, counting with his fingers and you nodded your head, holding his fingers together.

“And on Friday I’ll come and get you, okay?” you asked him and he pursed his lips, then pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Just three days.”

“Just three days,” you repeated. “But before I leave, you need to promise me something.”

“What?”

“You’ll tell me all about how pretty this place is, in detail,” you said. “And how much fun you have. So you kind of have to see everything here and have fun, promise?”

“Promise.”

“And the signal?”

He smiled, tapping over his heart three times and you did the same.

“See? I feel it,” you told him. “When you do that, I’ll do the same even if I’m not here. Okay?”

“Mkay.”

“Ready for your tour, Theo?” Rogue asked and he looked up at her, then turned to you and you pulled him into a tight hug, then smothered him in kisses as he let out an embarrassed whine.

“Mommy!”

“Okay okay, sorry,” you said with a small laugh, then adapted an overly serious expression and held out your hand. “A handshake then?”

He let out a giggle, then shook your hand and you forced yourself to smile, then stood up and straightened your back while he made his way to Rogue. Theo waved at you and you waved back, but as soon as he turned the corner with Rogue, your shoulders dropped.

Okay.

It was fine.

It was going to be just fine.

“New enrollment?” a deep voice reached you and you looked over your shoulder, then turned around to see him better.

It was the same man who you’d seen talking to Rogue just now and God, he was so handsome. If your mind wasn’t numb with anxiety, you would have stood there and gawk at him for a good minute, but perhaps your worries were for once working in your favor. His intense gaze raked over you, making your cheeks burn and your heartbeat speeding up, and a small smile curled his lips as if he could hear it.

“That obvious?”

“Just a little,” he said as your hand shot up to pinch your bottom lip, his gaze following the motion.

“People don’t get killed or maimed here, do they?” you asked and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Not on weekdays.”

“Great,” you said after a beat, offering him a weak smile. “Thanks. I’m gonna go on a limb and say there’s a reason why they didn’t put you in the welcome committee?”

That made the corners of his mouth twitch and he nodded in the direction Theo had walked away from you.

“Isn’t he a bit too young to have powers?”

“Funny you should ask that because I repeated the same question over and over again until I cried myself to sleep last night,” you pointed out and scrunched up your nose when he tilted his head. “Sorry. My jokes get a bit grim when I’m stressed.”

“You look like a very relaxed individual.”

“Do I?”

“Not really, I’m convinced that you’re having a heart attack right now.”

You blinked a couple of times in confusion before the idea hit you and your jaw dropped, your stomach doing a flip.

Right. He—

Everyone here had powers.

Well if there was anything more embarrassing than making bad jokes in front of a very hot man, it was that when the said hot man could hear your heartbeat. You managed to close your mouth and shifted your weight, your hand shooting up to your mouth again so that you could bite at the hangnail on your thumb nervously.

“Yeah that’s kind of my factory settings,” you managed to mumble. “I generate enough stress to light up a whole city.”

He hummed, his unwavering gaze making your heart skip a beat and as always, your brain took it as a sign for you to ramble about absolute nonsense.

“I’ll be a very rich person the moment they find a way to monetize stress,” you stated. “Which should be any day now, and I kind of have a list prepared for that day; the first thing I’m gonna do is probably cry because knowing me—I cry like all the time, I cried this morning and I will probably cry when I get to my car after this but— but then I’ll buy one of those very expensive coffees, I don’t know if you’ve tried them—”

“Logan, Storm wants to see us,” someone called out from the end of the hallway, cutting through your rambling but he didn’t even look at the owner of the voice. Instead, a small smirk curled his lips as if he was amused with your nonsense and you swallowed thickly, biting at your thumb again.

“I’m Logan by the way,” he said and you raised your brows, then nodded fervently.

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself, lowering your hand. “Hello.”

“Hi.”

The silence that fell upon you felt like it would explode your head so you cleared your throat, throwing your shoulders back.

“I should—I should get back to work before I get fired,” you stammered, jerking your thumb over your shoulder and took a step, then turned around on your heels. “But um, nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he said, his voice completely calm unlike yours and you shot him a tentative smile, then made your way out of the hallway, then walked out of the building as fast as you could as if someone was chasing you.

“Oh I’m an idiot,” you sang to yourself, drawing out the last syllable like an opera singer while fished your car keys out of your backpack, your heart still beating in your ears. “I’m an idiot, I’m such an idiot…”

The moment you got in your car, you heaved a sigh and pressed your palms on your eyes but your head shot up when your phone started ringing. You unzipped your backpack to grab it, then tossed the backpack back in the passenger seat and checked the screen to see your best friend’s name. You let out a breath, then touched the screen and took it to your ear.

“Julie, I’m an idiot I think,” you greeted her and she paused for a moment.

“Hello to you too sunshine,” she said with a laugh. “What happened?”

“Well the good news is, Theo liked the school,” you said, looking out the window at the mansion. “But I miss him already. Do you think—”

“You’re not changing your mind about this, we talked about helicopter parenting,” she said. “It’s going to be good for him.”

“Right.”

“Is that why you’re freaking out?”

“Not really but I will cry about it,” you pointed out. “Tonight I’m guessing.”

“Didn’t expect anything else, I’m bringing drinks to your place,” she said. “So? What is it then?”

“There’s a very, very, very attractive man there,” you murmured and she hummed.

“Just so I get it clear, how attractive is he again?”

“Very.”

You could practically hear her grin. “Good.”

“It’s not good!” you whined. “I’ve made a fool of myself.”

“It’s a part of your charm.”

“It really isn’t,” you said and looked down at your clothes. “And I look like a tax collector.”

“People other than tax collectors wear white shirts, we’ve been over that.”

“He thinks I’m a tax collector who can’t form a logical sentence,” you said, slipping a little in the driver’s seat to lean your knees to the steering wheel and she scoffed.

“Not really, he probably thinks you’re a—”

“We’re not calling me that,” you cut her off, making her laugh.

“Fine.”

You pinched your lip between your knuckles, then heaved a sigh.

“Theo will be okay, right?”

“He will be more than okay because he is going to be surrounded by the people who can in fact teach him how to use his powers, something you can’t do,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with getting a little help, sunshine.”

You clicked your tongue, still keeping your gaze on the mansion.

“So let me guess,” she said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “This very very very hot man is tall.”

“Yes.”

“Looks cocky.”

“Uh…”

“And older than you.”

You blinked a couple of times, pulling your brows together. “How did you—?”

“You have a type.”

You drummed your fingernails on the steering wheel, then heaved a sigh.

“It’s fine,” you said. “I…I doubt I’ll talk to him ever again and you know, with Theo, I just don’t have the time for anything else right now.”

“I’m going to convince you otherwise but I’m going to need drinks for that.”

You breathed out a laugh, then checked the time.

“Gotta go,” you said. “I’ll see you tonight then?”

“Yep, love you!”

“Love you too!” you said and hung up, then tossed the phone on the passenger seat and started the car.

“Alright,” you muttered to yourself. “I’m so gonna get drunk tonight.”

[2] - Summer Breeze

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan wolverine #logan x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #james howlett #fluff #logan howlett imagine #logan x you

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amirasainz · 2 months ago

Note

Can you please do driver reader is literally the absolute Angel of the paddock and everyone adores her, she’s the cutest sweetest little bean that you can’t help but love, she’s a Redbull driver and Christian always fawns over her and talks about his ‘daughter’ ( it’s clear she’s the favourite ). Even the older drivers love her e.g kimi, jenson, Seb, mark. Platonic pleaseeee

Omg, that is such a sweet idea. I did the format a bit differently, hope you don't mind.

Enjoy reading and send me some requests!!!

-XoXo

The Redbull Princess

YN YLN was a known name in the motor sport world. Not only was she the youngest driver currently on the grid - only 19 years - but she is the first female to ever drive for RedBull. Not oy that, but also the only woman on the grid.

Despite having a different gender, the other drivers never treated her bad. In fact, one could say that YN got the whole "Princess Treatment" from the drivers and teams. Each driver has taken a special place in her life.

Exhibit A: The protective one

The paddock was buzzing with energy, reporters swarming like bees near the Red Bull garage. YN was prepping for her media rounds, already feeling the weight of the spotlight on her. As she stepped into the press pen, a group of journalists immediately approached, firing off questions.

"YN, how do you feel about the pressure of being the youngest driver? Do you think it affects your performance?"

Before she could answer, Max appeared out of nowhere, slipping between her and the reporters with a grin that was anything but friendly. "I think that's enough for now," Max said, his blue eyes narrowing. "She’s got a race to focus on. Back off."

The reporters, visibly intimidated by the reigning World Champion, quickly shuffled away. YN let out a breath of relief, nudging Max with her elbow.

"You know, I can handle them."

Max chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, steering her away from the crowd. "Yeah, but why would I let them bother you when I can have fun scaring them off?"

"You're impossible," she laughed. "But thanks."

Exhibit B: The gossip King

YN walked into the Ferrari garage, still buzzing from practice. She found Charles leaning against his car, drinking water. His face lit up when he saw her.

"Charlie! Did you see that move I pulled in turn 9?" she said, excitedly plopping down next to him.

Charles grinned, instantly slipping into gossip mode. "I did! Smooth as butter. But did you hear about Fernando's radio message? He was furious about the tire degradation. Drama!"

YN's eyes widened. "No way! Spill all the tea, Leclerc."

Charles leaned in, whispering. "Apparently, his engineer told him to manage his tires better, and Nando snapped, saying, ‘I am managing them!’" He mimicked Fernando’s accent, making YN burst into laughter.

Exhibit C: The helping hand

The young RedBull driver just exited her car, when she felt someone grabbing her Birking Bag. When she quickly turned her head, she was meat with the sight of Carlos not only caring her bag in his hands and her coat on his arm, but carring his own stuff as well.

"Carlito, what are you doing? You don’t have to carry all my stuff for me." she told him, after they started walking towards the entrance.

Carlos mate an irritated sound, before responding to her. "Nonsense, hermana. Your job is to win this weekend. So let me help you with all the other things, comprende?"

Before Carlos could get an answer, she threw her arms around him, whispering a small thank you in his ear.

Exhibit D: The personal chef

YN sat in the Red Bull hospitality area, poking at her plate of food with a discontented look. Yuki walked over, noticing her lack of enthusiasm.

"Not good enough for you, huh?" Yuki teased, sliding into the seat across from her.

YN scrunched up her nose. "I don’t know what it is, but I just can’t eat this."

Without missing a beat, Yuki stood up. "I’ll make you something. What do you want?"

Her eyes brightened. "Yuki, really? You don’t have to!"

He waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, you’re picky. I know that. What do you want? Miso soup? Onigiri?"

YN tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Onigiri sounds perfect."

Within minutes, Yuki was back, placing a plate of freshly made onigiri in front of her. YN took a bite and sighed contentedly. "You're the best, Yuki."

He grinned. "I know."

Exhibit E: The "annoying" prankster

YN was busy trying to make sure her helmet and gear were ready when suddenly, her entire backpack fell off the counter with a loud thud, spilling everything.

"Lando!" she yelled, spinning around, catching the British driver grinning like a mischievous child.

"What?" Lando said, feigning innocence, hands up. "It slipped."

YN gave him a look but couldn’t help the smile creeping on her face. Lando always knew how to lift her spirits, even if it was through relentless pranks.

"One day, Norris, one day!" she warned, pointing a finger at him.

"I’ll be waiting," Lando chuckled, before helping her pick up her things

Exhibit F: The shoulder to cry on

"I just can't believe it. I was so close. How did I manage to bin the car into the wall on the last corner" muttered the 19 year old. Her face pressed in Oscars neck, who was busy stroking her hair. He knew better than to interrupt her during her rant. Knowing it would help her when she got everything of her chest.

After a moment, she shakily breathed out. Oscar knew that the only thing he could do now was to let her fall apart while he would catch every piece of her.

And that's what he did. While she cried her heart out, Oscar held her close to him, rocking them slowly in a soothing matter. It felt like nothing could happen to her in Oscars arms. He would protect her from the outside world as long as she needed

Sometimes actions speak louder than words

Exhabit G: The fashionista

Lewis stood beside YN, eyeing her racing suit critically before smirking. "That’s not gonna work."

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

He pointed at her boots. "Those shoes? No way. They don’t match the rest of the suit."

YN raised an eyebrow. "I'm not trying to walk the runway, Lewis. I’m racing."

Lewis rolled his eyes. "You can do both. Come on, let’s get you a new pair of shoes. You’ll thank me later."

And true to his words, YN received a new pair of racing shoes only a few hours later. They certainly looked better than her old pair.

Exhibit H: The mother-hen

George was hovering near the buffet in the paddock, watching YN closely as she piled food onto her plate. He narrowed his eyes as she bypassed the salad section.

"YN, you need to eat more greens. And have you had any water today?" George asked, his tone dangerously close to motherly.

YN groaned. "George, I’m fine. I had water this morning."

"That’s not enough," he replied sternly, filling a glass and handing it to her. "Drink. Now."

She pouted but took the glass. "Okay, Mom."

Exhibit I: The proud dad

During a press conference, Christian Horner stood beside YN, smiling at the reporters. "You all know my daughter here is the star of the show," he said, gesturing towards YN.

YN blushed at the comment. "Christian!"

The reporters laughed, but YN knew Christian wasn’t entirely joking. He had taken her under his wing from day one, treating her like family. And she couldn’t have been more grateful.

Exhibit J: Bwoah

In a rare quiet moment, YN had somehow convinced Kimi Räikkönen — the Iceman himself — to do a TikTok trend with her. As the camera rolled, Kimi deadpanned his way through the trend, barely moving but somehow nailing it.

"Thanks for doing this, Kimi," YN said, grinning as they finished.

Kimi shrugged. "Bwoah, don’t mention it, kid. But don’t tell the other drivers that you are my favourite"

YN laughed. "Deal."

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #yuki tsunoda x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russell x reader #christian horner x reader #kimi raikkonen x reader #redbull!reader #driver!reader #xoxo babygirl 💋

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mattybsgroupie · 15 days ago

Text

husband!matt headcanons

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: it’s been incredibly hard to find motivation to write full fics, but i’m doing my best with the blurbs and hcs ♡ i’ll write all the requests and hopefully get some fics done this weekend, thank you for understanding ♡ and thanks for the request anon!!!

♡⊹𑄽୧

husband!matt who … asked for your parents blessing

husband!matt who … knew he wanted to marry you after dating for only a month

husband!matt who … used to joke about proposing when he had already planned on it

husband!matt who … actually bought the ring on your first anniversary

husband!matt who … thought living together before getting married was corny, but loved every second of it

husband!matt who … carefully planned every step of his proposal

husband!matt who … cried when you said ‘yes’

husband!matt who … cried — again — at the altar

husband!matt who … had his brothers as his groomsmen

husband!matt who … loves calling you ‘wife’

♡⊹𑄽୧

husband!matt who … wanted to wait till marriage but couldn’t resist you

husband!matt who … couldn’t keep his hands off of you during honeymoon

husband!matt who … made sure the honeymoon phase lasted long — or at least the sex part of it

husband!matt who … playfully slaps your ass any chance he gets

husband!matt who … hugs you from behind as you’re washing the dishes so you can feel his boner

husband!matt who … never has time for morning sex, even though he loves it

husband!matt who … gets back from work extremely tired and just needs you to take care of him

husband!matt who … doesn’t get shy about being a sub

husband!matt who … absolutely loves to dom

husband!matt who … still gets horny by seeing you in lingerie

husband!matt who … has a breeding kink

husband!matt who … loves to make babies, and that’s why you have so many kids

♡⊹𑄽୧

matt marry me please 😞😞😞

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fastandcarlos · 20 days ago

Text

Children Once Again : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: when you’re invited to the f1 as an ambassador the last face you expect to see is that of your childhood best friend

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by mclaren, landonorris and 792,057 others

ynusername: such an honour to be in monza to watch the grand prix, thank you so much to mclaren for the awesome hospitality 🧡

68,472 comments

username1: no way you finally for to go to a race!

mclaren: it was an honour to welcome you and host you at your very first f1 race 🧡

username2: hope you had the best time ever yn ❤️

kendalljenner: told you that you’d absolutely love it 😂

ynusername: @/kendalljenner I should’ve listened to you!

username3: ngl she seemed to be really close with lando when they were around the paddock together!

oscarpiastri: thank you for being such an awesome guest to have with us this weekend!

username4: papaya really suits you btw yn 😉

username5: and you got to go to monza too, that’s one of the best races on the circuit!!!

landonorris: can’t believe we finally got to see each other again, let’s not leave it so long next time 😂

ynusername: @/landonorris you’re still just as annoying as ever 😂

username6: wait wtf is going on here…did they already know each other??

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, kendalljenner and 837,018 others

ynusername: never in a million years did I think I’d get reunited with this guy, nearly 14 years later and we’re back together again 🥹

71,950 comments

username7: wait so they were friends at school and reconnected? omg that’s adorable

username8: see the f1 really does change lives 😂

georgerussell63: how you managed to put up with him growing up is crazy to me!

ynusername: @/georgerussell63 it was hard work at times 😂

username9: I can just imagine them causing so much trouble when they were younger!!

landonorris: 14 years to make up for but the rest of our lives to be back together causing mischief again!!

username10: look at how happy lando looks to be back with her again

mclaren: we’re so pleased we could unknowingly bring the two of you back together again 🧡

ynusername: @/mclaren I owe you guys so much for inviting me in the first place

username11: this is just the sweetest story ever 😭

oscarpiastri: at least I don’t have to listen to you guys reminiscing anymore 🙄

username12: so happy they got to reunite together 🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, ynusername and 2,038,173 others

landonorris: a dream weekend with my childhood best friend, still feeling just like big kids and like we’ve never not been each other’s lives 🥹

73,067 comments

username13: and you’re sure she’s just a friend are you???

alex_albon: these photos suggest you’ve had more than just a dream weekend to me

username14: you can just tell how fond of her lando still is 😭

danielricciardo: yeah, sure “just” friends 😉

username15: who is buying a friend flowers that are that nice!?

ynusername: you’re not gonna be able to get rid of me so easily this time around!

landonorris: @/ynusername good because I don’t want you to go anywhere anyway 🥺

username16: I don’t want these two to go their separate ways again 💔

maxverstappen1: you’ve known me since we were kids and yet you don’t hug me like that 🤨

landonorris: @/maxverstappen1 stop reading so much into things 🙄

username17: you’re not kidding anyone norris 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, georgerussell63 and 782,607 others

ynusername: the first photo was lando when I surprised him at the race, now compare that to the last one after spending four hours with me 😂🧡

73,058 comments

username18: they couldn’t even stay away from each other for more than a week!!

maxverstappen1: I can so see why you two were the best of friends after meeting you 😂

username19: just look at how excited he is to see her 🥺

danielricciardo: it was a joy to meet you here and hear so many childhood stories of lando’s!!

username20: ofc cause only a friend would do something like this right??

landonorris: stop lying to people, I really was happy to have you here for the whole time 😂

ynusername: @/landonorris that’s why you banished me to the paddock for most of the afternoon 👀

username21: it breaks my heart knowing they spent so long apart when they seem to get on so well…

carlossainz55: it was fun embarrassing lando with you for the whole weekend!!!!

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 I had no idea he was still as stupid as he was back in school 🤦🏻‍♀️

username22: he loves spending time with you really yn 😂

oscarpiastri: I’m sure I saw him shed a tear when you told him you had to go

landonorris: @/oscarpiastri definitely tears of joy!!

username23: we really missed out on this friendship for so many years!

alex_albon: still sticking with the friendship storyline I see…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

ynusername just posted two stories

replies

alex_albon: if you went out with one you’d be a true passenger princess!

ynusername: when do you plan on letting this go??

username24: can you two just hurry up and date already?

georgerussell63: look at how handsome he is yn, you can’t deny it 😂

username25: put us out of our misery please and just announce it!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

danielricciardo: why are you two kids holding hands!?

username26: I still refuse to accept that you two are just friends!

username27: are you playing us all by pretending to just be friends?

charles_leclerc: when will you two just wake up and see it??

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 2,492,613 others

landonorris: don’t tell her but I secretly loved her back in school all those years ago, and I guess it’s fair to say I still love her just as much now ❤️

203,362 comments

username28: finally they’ve given us what we wanted for so long 👏🏻

alex_albon: can’t believe you tried to convince me that you two weren’t dating 🙄

oscarpiastri: couldn’t be happier for the two of you 🥰

username29: these two are the perfect reason as to why you should believe in destiny 😭

danielricciardo: this might just be the worst kept secret in the world!!

carlossainz55: i feel like I’ve watched a movie watching your romance unfold 🥺

username30: the fact he’s always been in love with her melts me 🫠

charles_leclerc: well aren’t you guys just the cutest 😭

username31: please don’t ever lose contact with each other again!

georgerussell63: you guys are perfect for each other, so pleased you managed to find one another again

username32: all these years and yet none of us knew that he actually only ever had eyes for her…

mclaren: congratulations to you both, secretly we’re taking all the credit for this 🧡

landonorris: @/mclaren you guys can absolutely take credit, thank you for inviting yn all those weeks ago!

username33: this is the kinda romance that everyone dreams of, only this time it actually came true 🧡

ynusername: it was only ever you 💞

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

1K notes · View notes

xinganhao · 1 month ago

Text

🪐 boy best friend!mingyu.

@tubasebongs → "I WOULD LIKE MINGYU CLINGY/POUTY BOY BEST FRIEND WHO LIKES YOU AND HE TRIES TO HIDE IT BUT FAILS AND STILL TOO PAINFULLY OBVIOUSLY 🙏🏻🙏🏻"

⌗ ┆threw in another trope because mingyu is childhood best friend coded (⋟﹏⋞) lost the ask in my inbox (i'm so sorry!!!) but i hope this still hits the mark :'-)

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: boy best friend!mingyu, childhood friend!mingyu, fluff fluff fluff!!!, cussing, pining/idiot in love/etc., confession -ish, headcanons under the cut.

🪐 headcanons .ᐟ

because of course kim mingyu is the boy next door. your mothers are friends and that's how you meet him, how you essentially grow up with him, even. he's a lively kid— loud and sociable, fond of roughhousing and buying candy at the corner store.

mingyu is the type to have defended you on the playground, his little hands balled in to fists as he plants them at his hips. at the age of six, he's not really capable of inciting fear, but he'll damn well try. as early as then, he's already referring to you as 'my best friend.' "yah, that's my best friend!" "don't make my best friend cry!" "what did you say about my best friend?!"

mingyu's overbearingness wanes a bit as you grow up, as you begin to insist that you can fight your own battles. the title is the one thing that doesn't change. it doesn't matter if you go on to not be classmates anymore, if you run different circles. you are mingyu's best friend and he's yours.

it's a fact that mingyu makes abundantly clear to everyone he meets. hell, even strangers aren't spared by the casual ways in which he manages to bring you up. "excuse me, but your hat is really nice and i think my best friend would like it. may i know where you bought it?" "oh, my best friend loves that artist too!" "you think my shoes are nice? thank you, my best friend got it for me."

mingyu is the picture perfect cliché of the best friend. he lives to annoy you, to rile you up and test your patience, but he also knows you like the back of his hand. it's something that you reciprocate— the cat and dog fights belied only by the deep concern and consideration that you both undeniably have for each other.

if he's honest, mingyu isn't all too sure when things shifted. (the answer: somewhere around adolescence, on an unassuming weekend spent at an arcade.) he just found that he kept wanting a little more. wanted to annoy you a little more so you would keep looking his way. wanted to talk to you a little more so you would think of him, too. mingyu isn't sure when his feelings started, but he knows they're not about to end any time soon.

it drives mingyu absolutely insane, initially, because he's seen how these things go! he's sat through all your favorite romcoms, has idly watched his mother's weekly dramas. falling in love with your best friend only ends well in fiction. in real life, in his life? he's not so sure.

mingyu isn't about to start avoiding you, though. isn't going to run from his feelings like a bunch of other people do. you always say he's dramatic when he says so, but he's at least half-serious when he says he can't live without you. and so he gives himself a stern talking to, a set of rules to follow— he won't tell you. he won't put you in that position, where you have to choose. he'll just go about things as he always does.

and, most importantly: mingyu refuses to look at your friendship as a consolation prize. it is not a silver medal, not a second-best to a potential romantic relationship. it is the best thing, being your best friend, and he's not about to put that on the line.

one thing mingyu fails to take in to account: just how painfully obvious he is. he doesn't have to confess to you. it bleeds in to everything he says and does. everyone knows, from his family to his friends to your family. they're all not so sure, either, when the exactly mingyu went from just acting friendly to being at your every whim without you even asking, but it's as clear as day.

mingyu thinks he's slick. on the rare occasions he's called out, he'll scoff and deny. "me? in love with my best friend? that's crazy." deny, deny, deny. that's mingyu's game for years and years, until people just give up on asking and wait for one or the other: for him to crack or for you to notice.

being best friends with a mingyu who's hopelessly in love with you is a carousel of moments: a dozen pouty selfies a week, incessant texts blowing up your phone, facetime calls where he's drunk and whining to be picked up. and more: the smell of his cologne on almost all of your things, the passport photo of you that he keeps behind his clear phone case, a specific smile that he reserves for when you're not looking.

really, it's just like mingyu for his eventual confession to be unceremonious, unprompted. all it takes is for you to make one offhand joke (time for you to confess to me, kim mingyu) and for mingyu to take that just a little too seriously (holy shit, have i been that obvious).

mingyu thought he'd take this 'secret' to the grave, honestly. or maybe he'd bring it up when you're both old and gray, and you can hit him over the head with a cane or something. but now it's out in the open, now it's something he can't take back— and, well, there's only one last thing for him to do: hope for the goddamn best.

extras 📱 texts from mingyu ➤ friends.

#mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu fluff #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smau #svt fluff #svt smau #svt imagines #svt x reader #── ᵎᵎ ✦ reqs #── ᵎᵎ ✦ mine #tubasebongs #[ 'the passport photo of you that he keeps behind his clear phone case' ... PASSED OUT . ]#[ mingyu boy best friend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! RAAAH ]

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julymusings · 24 days ago

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Jason Todd x Single Mom!Reader

I've been plagued for many months now by the idea of jason todd x young single mom!reader. I literally made this blog this morning just to post this

this is so LONG try as i might to shorten it i've been itching to get all this out of me so enjoy this word vomit i might just make a full fic if i'm feeling extra frisky

You got pregnant in college, and now you’re fresh out of grad school moving to a new city with your 3 year old daughter

You got a job at Wayne Enterprises, leading an important new project. You and your colleagues are invited to the latest Wayne Gala, hosted at the billionaire’s own manor. All these years as a young mother and a student, you hadn’t any experience with such extravagance-- how could you say no?

the party lowkey sucks because it's all old rich people so you sneak out to a balcony where you find a young man drinking whiskey and texting on his phone.

he introduces himself as jason, and his hand is rough and calloused when you shake it, but it's warm and sends a tingle up your arm. (😏)

You chat about your work, he complains about the stuffiness of a life at Wayne Enterprises and you laugh when he warns you to get out while you can (he's joking, of course. not because he thinks it's worth staying but because if you leave he'd never be able to hear that adorable laugh again)

when you go off on a tangent about how excited you are for your project, he's not even listening anymore. the sheer passion that lights up your face has his mind going fuzzy and a full orchestra playing in the background

you're pulled back in before he can get your number :( he's so mopey all weekend he doesn't even have it in him to retaliate when damian makes fun of him for having pink pony club as his top song for this month :(

when you get home your email is flooded with warnings from other parents at your daughter's daycare about a lice scare?? okay, you think, she's definitely not going on monday, you can just bring her to work with you, right? what's the worst that could happen?

the following monday he just happens to show up at the office (He can't just stop by to say hi to his brother who he loves?) (tim calls security almost immediately)

you're not at your cubicle (in a meeting, your desk neighbor informs him) so he mills about the floor like a lost puppy just waiting for you to show up so he can "accidentally" run into you

the woman at the front desk has a chair pulled up next to hers where this little girl with pigtails is sitting, trying to console her as tears stream down her face

jason springs into action, kneeling in front of her chair to ask what's wrong

she just sniffles and holds up her stuffed animal, an elephant whose button eye has popped out, the woman watching her trying to get her to hand it over so she can sew it back on but she wont let go

he goes full grey's anatomy, fussing over the toy like it's in mortal peril and complimenting her for being so brave before gently asking if he can try to fix it

she lets him take it and he uses the woman's travel sewing kit to stitch it back on

she's ecstatic, leaping forward into his arms to give him a big hug

but now she won't let him leave because no he has to have a conversation with the elephant first and introduce himself and give it post-surgery care instructions and listen to it talk about how much she it wants a puppy and he feels like such an idiot talking to that thing but anything to make this little girl smile

she pulls a little picture book from the backpack hung on the back of her chair and asks him to read with her and he can't just say no!

so he plops down on the tile floor and starts reading out loud and even though she's standing next to him craning her neck to see the pictures he's a head taller than her

when you finish your meeting and head back to the front desk to thank gretchen for watching your kid the sight you see makes your heart absolutely melt

jason and your daughter are sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor of Wayne Enterprises as he reads to her, and he's pulling out all the stops, he's doing voices, sound effects, and she's giggling so hard she can't sit up straight

but then they both finally notice you

"mommy!" she yells, running to you and wrapping herself around your leg

you're surprised to see him, but definitely not disappointed, and if what you just walked in on indicated anything, it was that you wanted, nay, needed this man

so now you're flushed and hopeful, mind running with possibilities of why he's here; could it be? he couldn't stop thinking about you either? he came all the way to ask you out?

but jason is also surprised, astounded even, by the miniature carbon copy clinging to your leg saying something about scooby snacks

he's freaking out on the inside

through a tight-lipped greeting he excuses himself with what he hopes is a neutral demeanor (spoiler alert: it's not) and goes home to think

and you obviously know exactly what that was about, one doesn't go through pregnancy at 19 without becoming well-acquainted with the whole catalogue of surprised/judgy reactions

of course you're a mess because the early/mid 20s dating scene is hard enough as it is but with a toddler? forget it, might as well just give up now

you go home to call your best friend and get drunk over face time while she assures you that men aint shit and offers to put a curse on him (you consider it, but how are you supposed to get a lock of his hair?)

he's up all night hating himself for being such an asshole and trying to come up with a scenario in which this works, in which he can have you in his life and also a child and be the red hood because he can't stop thinking about you

so then he just says fuck it and the next morning he shows up at your office with flowers and a puppy stuffed animal and finally asks you out

#nightwing #batman #red hood #jason todd #dick grayson #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #batfamily #dc universe #dc comics #dcu #damian wayne #dc robin #robin #bruce wayne

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fairene · 2 months ago

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passenger princess / ln4

established relationship lando norris x fem!reader

no use of y/n, as always.

in which the weekend takes a twist, and all you want is a baby.

prompt⋯ hi! first of all, i absolutely ADORE your writing. i’ve been reading all of your stuff for the past few days!! second, i was scrolling on pinterest and i rediscovered the lando daddy bracelet pic. that combined with THE dutch gp pic made me be down even worse for him. with that i request a fic with an established reader x lando relationship. that’s set during the weekend of the 2024 dutch gp. where he wears the bracelet over the course of the weekend and it gets you(? or me? idk how to phrase that) really worked up, and after he wins they fuck while he’s still wearing it. and it’s like the most rough feral sex known to mankind. but at the end you want him to come in you and he’s like “oh you wanna make me a daddy”. like yes it is a slight breeding kink but it’s more of the idea of the bracelet and how he definitely knew what he was doing when he wore it (in the fic and irl too tbh). that’s the general idea but feel free to put your own spin on it!! i am incredibly down bad for him and that photo did something to me. ty 🤗🧡

a/n ⋯ yeah tbh i got no excuse for this one chat...like...how could i not resist a breeding kink...i know y'all want it too. but for real--- thank you anon for being patient. i had a lot of fun writing this in between doing work. writing is an escape for me. thank you to all for the continued support, and i'll be continuing to get through asks as time moves along. comment below to be added to my taglist, or comment in general! i love replying to all of them as much as i can.

warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, breeding kink, impregnation, teasing, possessiveness, jealousy, creampie, begging, mating press-- allat shit tbh. if i miss a warning, let me know.

wc ⋯ 8.5k (unedited.)

things had begun to be different between you and lando. you couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when the gears shifted, the stars aligned, though you only cared how good it made you feel with him.

but he knew. he knew exactly when.

you’d been dating lando for two years now. it was two years of pure bliss— the exciting lifestyle that you’ve craved, the love and care, the passion that you shared with him was exquisitely yours. he is yours. and you are his.

that morning in the paddock he was speaking to max, chattering about the post collision from hungaroring. they seemed to make up in due time, finding it easier to call one another “brother’s” again, despite the damages done to their cars and the media in an uproar about their impish, punitive behaviors. you didn’t spare any glance towards the comments made about it, knowing that lando had been in a rough shape that weekend.

you played with penelope, p, as they were talking, squatted on the ground with colored pens in your hand. kelly loomed behind, on her phone, thankful enough that you could occupy her for the time being. you had no issue entertaining her. you loved being around children…most of the time.

“this one?” you held out the red pen for p, as she was pointing to with a bashful look. she was shy– especially around you, given your ethereal, wanderlust nature. you carried yourself in such an elegant way that could facilitate a ray of sunlight through the most tepid storms.

she nodded and you handed it to her. she latched her smaller hand around it, coloring in the rb20 from her sketchbook. your hand fell beneath your chin as you watched her carefully color inside the lines, dreading falling out of it. you smiled as she did, the dress you wore crinkling fashionably around your thighs.

p flashed the page at you nervously, awaiting her input. your eyes glowed, sparkles falling onto the page as you scanned it. she really did do a good job.

“beautiful, p!” you commented, your palm splaying over her upper back. “you’re really good at this, you know?”

a shade of red filled her cheeks, warming her skin. you hadn’t meant to embarrass her, nor make her nervous.

“do you want to color one with me?” you asked her, pointing to the pages in the book. she hesitated for a moment, as if she didn’t hear you properly, but ended up nodding with the same excitement that she did when she’d see max on the podium. “you pick. something…pretty.”

the gears were turning in her head as she flipped through the pages, trying to find the perfect one for you and her to work on. you, on the other hand, were focused on how her brows scrunched together as she furiously searched through her booklet. it was cute the way she perceived things. she was a cutie. it made you think about your own future, what you wanted.

what you wanted,

your eyes drifted from the carpeted floors inside the hospitality room, to the shoes that he wore, and up his black jeans to the papaya livery he sported for the day. you lingered on the expanse of his chest, the tan skin peaking through the v-neck of his unbuttoned collar. your mouth watered instinctively, thinking about how lucky you were to have a man like lando love you so deeply.

as you glanced further up towards his chin, the unshaved rigid surface that sparked electricity over your body, you found him already looking down at you. he wasn’t even paying attention to max at this point, already giving you all of his attention and you didn’t even need to ask.

you gave him a smile, covering your lips afterward to stifle your giggle, and turned back to p once she tapped you that she’d found a picture for the two of you to color.

“mate?”

lando was lost in a daze staring at you. gawking at your figure, the dress you decided to wear. it was a denim colored sheath that you’d twin with alexandra with. she’d wear the gia dress in a pomegranate hue, whereas you took the navy.

lando’s hand was cupped against his chin, rubbing over his stubble, keen on watching how you interacted with p.

your relationship had progressed further than he’s ever gotten to before in his life. he was at a point where he knew he didn’t want anyone else, to explore someone else’s body the way he did yours. he knew you, inside and out, and he didn’t think another connection was even fathomable.

you appeared to be so gentle with her, taking the time to listen to what she wanted you to do, how to color, maneuver the pens. there would be no outside the line coloring on her watch, that was for sure.

he found himself smiling bright.

do you want kids?

he knew that he did. he always knew that. but he’d never broach the subject to you directly. your relationship with him was secure, but was it eligible to be taken to the next level? would you be frightened by his sudden urge to create a life with you? a product of him, and the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen?

“yeah? sorry.” lando looked back towards max. but it was too late, and max was looking over his shoulder towards you and p.

when he looked back towards lando, he threw his hands up in defense. max rolled his eyes. “don’t know why you haven’t proposed to her yet. what’re you waiting for?”

lando bristled. he waited a moment to answer, wondering the same fucking thing. what was he waiting on? the perfect time, perhaps. summer break was rapidly approaching, and he certainly had a ring picked out.

the papaya clad driver pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos, settled on the right one, and handed it to max. the other driver took it, zooming in, not that he needed to.

“when?”

lando shrugged. “summer break. greece, maybe.”

max cheered, slapping his hand over his mouth in shock. “you’re serious, mate?” lando nodded. max pulled him in for a hug, slapping him over the back. he couldn’t be happier for his best friend in this moment, starting to jump up and down. lando settled him down and slid his phone back into his pocket.

“keep it quiet. i want her to be surprised.”

max made a motion of a lock and key. “surprised about what?”

lando felt giddy.

you hadn’t been paying much attention to what lando nor max were chittering about. you’d been so hyper focused on coloring with p, that you were absent minded of the conversation behind you.

p had picked out a cartoon illustration of max and lando smiling towards the viewer. you’d thought it was an adorable choice, and it showed that p was more aware than what she led on to be. she, of course, started coloring in max. with his neutrally blonde hair, redbull cap, she was fast working.

but then she shoved the book towards you, politely anyways, and pointed at lando, who was yet to be colored in.

“my turn?” she nodded her head, handing you the orange marker.

you grinned, carefully coloring in the lines of the drawing before p took a deep breath. “are you and lando married?”

the question had you freeze momentarily, taken back by her question. “no, p, we’re not.”

you continued to color, whilst she continued to question. “why not?”

“because he hasn’t asked me.”

“why don’t you ask him?”

“i’m not sure that’s what he wants.”

p raised a brow. she looked towards lando and max, giggling together like school girls, then back to you and your focused coloring.

she handed you a brown marker for lando’s curls. “i think you should.”

now it was your turn to be inquisitive, “really, now?”

she nodded her head without hesitating. “then you’d be my aunt!” she giggled.

you colored in lando’s curls, carefully, diligently, thinking of how they felt beneath your fingertips. your breath hitched thinking about the thought of him proposing, wondering if he had ever even thought about it. you knew what your answer would be. it wouldn’t even take a beat of your heart to give him in answer, if he chose to ask. if he chose you.

with one final stripe of a black marker, your drawing of lando had been finished. you stood up, and so did p.

“are you going to have babies?”

“p!” you gasped, mouth dropping. “that’s none of your business, young lady.”

she laughed, twirling around. “what? that’s what mama says happens when you love someone.” confident, wasn’t she? “do you love lando?”

“of course i do, p.”

she gasped.

“is there a baby in there right now?!” she seemed concerned, becoming so bold as to touch your stomach. it was a little higher than where your womb sat beneath your skin, but close enough.

you shook your head. “no, honey. i am not having a baby right now.”

she looked disappointed. taking her hand back, she crossed them over her chest.

“penelope, what are you going on about?” kelly finally chimed in, rubbing p’s back with her hand.

“nothing.”

but it wasn’t nothing.

lando appeared behind you, a hand on your lower back. you leaned into him, recognizing his touch, and you got a brief wave of panic wondering if he heard your conversation with p.

“p,” lando said over your shoulder. she looked up. “do you still have your bracelet making kit?”

she nodded again, though you weren’t quite sure what he’d need it for. you guessed you’d find out eventually, because lando uttered, “it’s a secret, sorry baby.”

and he followed p to her small table, pulling out the kit from her backpack. she had taken lando’s hand to guide him, and you watched fondly.

too fondly, you thought, and knew you were in deep shit.

the morning of the dutch grand prix had you biting at the corners of your fingernails with anticipation. the summer break you had spent with lando was more than you could imagine— filled with delicious foods, sunny weather, morning swims, and of course, the sex. with more free time that lando had, he was utterly obsessed with you. he worshiped the ground you walked on, and it made you feel like more than the queen you deserved to be.

in the paddock you stood, shifting on your feet, anxiously fiddling with your purse once your fingernails sufficed. lily joined at your side, ethereal with her effortless beauty, and she nudged you with her elbow. “you look nervous,” she gave a short laugh.

you scoffed but joined in on her antics. “do i?” you certainly did. lily raised her brows to inquire further of your apparent distress.

relenting, you couldn’t resist her. there was no reason to— you were both practically attached at the hip. ever since oscar had been signed to mclaren, the two of you were inseparable. the famous mclaren WAGs.

your relationship with lando had been going on for two years now. sure, you’d had some rocky slopes to climb with the schedule of his career and the development of your own; that’s the thing about relationships though, isn’t it? that no matter what hill you’d have to climb, you’d find one another on the other side. the two of you wanted to make it work, so there was no obsolete universe in which you’d never find each other.

“he needs this, lils.” you practically sighed, finally gaining the courage to look her in the eye. she looked at you with the same softness that a mother would, or a best friend that you could count on.

“you know he’ll do well.” oh, don’t you know it. lando, whilst on vacation, never took a moment’s worth of rest. he wanted this just as much as you did for him, a second career win. it was all that you could think about the moment you stepped off the plane before him in zandvoort. it was going to happen. you had a feeling.

and a good one at that.

qualifying swept by in a flash. the saturday afternoon was a clean sweep for your boyfriend in the front row. you couldn’t be more proud of him. when he was finished with his interviews and taking his leave with his half removed fireguard, you launched at him.

flinging your arms around his neck, he gripped onto your waist and thighs like his life depended on it. it did. your nose found the sweat against the column of his neck, inhaling deeply. you melted into him.

lando felt the same. with his forehead burrowing into the hair on your scalp, he let out a deep breath that he’d been holding since he got out of the car.

“missed my sweet girl,” he breathed, the sweat and perspiration heating the hairs on your head. you sighed softly, relaxing into him as he held you tighter.

you broke away from him, setting yourself on the ground. you stood happily in front of him, rocking on your heels and playing with the hem of the black, sponser-ridden firesuit.

“‘m so fucking proud, lan. pole? pole on the first race back?” you were in shellshock, overjoyed disbelief.

he raised a hand to cup your face before he’d be whisked away. the bracelet on his wrist caught your eye, one that he must’ve put on once he stepped out of the car. the friendship letter bracelet read loudly to you, it letters all capitalized.

‘daddy’

you gripped his hand, observing the ornament. you raised a brow. is this the bracelet he had made with p?

lando let out a short laugh. “like it?”

you flushed, staring down at the small, dainty thing. it had you shifting on your feet, ideas and fantasies running wild through your pillage of a mind. “maybe.” you hummed, stroking the beads with your index finger.

“wore it for you.”

the statement had you standing up straight. “really now?” lando nodded.

and before he was whisked away, he whispered into your ear, “don’t get any ideas, baby. i know that look.”

you were rendered speechless, and by the time you managed to open your mouth, he had already left through the door.

the following day was race day. you were dressed flawlessly, curating perfection with your outfits to match the same prestige that lando had with his fans. also, you enjoyed feeling pretty. looking pretty, as lando would often say to you. he didn’t forget this morning either, arriving to the paddock with you in tow, hand wrapped tightly with yours.

as he took selfie after selfie, signed hat after hat, he didn’t forget to remind you, “you look beautiful,” that always brought a smile to your face, a blush fanning your cheeks.

when the two of you made it inside of mclaren’s hospitality, you were greeted by both lily and oscar. you gave her a warming hug, and she returned it with the same affirmation. when you separated, she danced on her tip-toes. lando and oscar side stepped toward the tea and coffee station, chatting amongst themselves.

“wow!” you were confused, raising a brow. “front row for him, hmm? told you, had nothing to worry about.”

you rolled your eyes, still holding anxieties for the race. you were always concerned going into a weekend. no matter how many grand prix’s you’ve attended, seen lando come out safe and sound, you still picked at the skin of your fingertips. anxious habits die hard.

lando’s managers came in alongside oscar’s beckoning both mclaren drivers to follow them to get ready for the race. lando found you instantly, his hands finding the handles on your hips, squeezing inward. you tensed at the action, wondering what had him on such edge.

you spun, hands running from his chest up to his neck, his cheeks. you cupped his face in your hands, sheepishly smiling.

“you’ll win this for me?”

he scoffed, “always.”

you smiled harder—if that was possible— and connected your lips with his. he returned your kiss, diving deep into your mouth. he held you close by your lower back, as if this was the last time that he’d ever kiss you. he sought to deepen your kiss by the clacking of your teeth, his tongue incessantly searching the inside of your mouth.

you separated yourself, still holding onto his cheeks. lando dipped his forehead against yours, seeking another kiss, but you pulled away. “go. they’re waiting for you.”

“don’t care.”

you flushed, allowing him one last peck before you patted his cheek. “seriously. go.”

he chuckled to himself, kissing the top of your head, uttering a soft “i love you,” before being swept away.

“i love you too.” you mouthed, returning your attention back to lily. she was in awe of how you and lando behaved, carving such a rugged, playful boy into a man of posture and mannerisms that were only reflected by your good nature.

“what?”

“nothing…” she looked away.

“lily.”

“you’ve got that man on a leash,” she broke into a fit of giggles. you looked back to where they were walking out. lando had been looking for you, then at you. he gave a wave, you returned it, then looked back at lily.

“i prefer the term ‘free-roaming.’”

the race was coming to an end with a single lap left. lando led the race with a twenty-two second lead, and your hands were clasped tightly together with your headset on. you listened carefully to his radio messages, sassy and revving, and had your eyes locked onto the screen in front of you. with lily by your side, the two of you were anxiously awaiting the end.

your face suddenly appeared on screen, displaying your glistening eyes, perfectly done makeup and hair. a chic smile grew on your cheeks. you turned towards the camera man and allotted a small wave. your name appeared under the screen, lando norris’ partner.

god…

was there anything more prideful than that?

surely there was, but it didn’t matter to you. you were there to support your boyfriend, lando, your lando, and it was more than enough to see that you were recognized as that.

the checkered flag appeared and lando was on the headline for crossing. you had to clutch your heart, hoping to grip it from the inside out to slow its beating, and it didn’t cease when his mcl38 zipped past the flag.

there was an eruption of cheers throughout the garage and you were swarmed with love by the fellow mechanics and lily, too, who was happy for you to witness such a grand victory. a more than well earned victory.

a second one in the books for him. you couldn’t have been happier.

the podium gathering didn’t take long, and you managed to be at the front of the barricade, shoved forward by the team. you stood there, graceful and beautiful as he always saw you, and you were the loudest to clap and cheer as he walked out from the cool down room.

“your winner, lando norris…!” and you couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks, the camera picking up your emotional feedback on the big screen. his eyes caught to it from the bannister, stepping up onto the tallest podium, and found you right at the front. his heart melted, dripped a red hot flame that burned for you. to see you there for him, emotional above all, solidified his feelings. what he wanted in his future.

you. you above anything else. you above racing, his career, his everything. he had nothing if you weren’t by his side.

he took off his pirelli hat and let the national anthem play. the camera panned away from you then to zak brown. you swayed gently to the anthem, lost in your own world of loving him. you saw him through clear glasses, though he was always your rose. there was nothing more that you wanted in the future than to be with him. you and lando.

after his attributed champagne pop, the crowd dissipated from the pit lane and you engaged in conversations with different women, friends, and coworkers of mclaren. you were jovial with your presence, engaged as much as you could be, though your thoughts kept tracing back to him. lando, lando, lando.

you ended your evening in conversations with the ferrari women— alexandra, rebecca, and one of charles’ friends, marta. you’re a recent acquaintance, meeting her only just a few moments ago. she was noticeably pregnant, and you wondered if that was just the recurring theme of the day.

“how far along are you?” rebecca chimed in.

“about twenty weeks, i think.” she smiled, holding her bump and leaning back into one of her heels to get a more comfortable angle.

“half way there! are you excited?” you asked her, sipping your sparkling water.

“of course,” she grimaced, though there was joy behind her eyes. “it can be hard, but it’s worth it. always worth it to see my husband with my daughter, and now it’ll be brand new with this babe.”

you gave her a heart-warming smile.

“they kick every so often—” she grimaced again, reeling her face into a tight knot. “like right now. do you want to feel?” she was looking at you. it took you a second to understand that she was referring to you, but you jumped at the opportunity.

“are you sure…?”

marta nodded. “put your hand here,” she placed your hand on her right side. you waited a moment before there was a small lurch beneath your palm. you looked up at her in pure disbelief, marveled by such a feeling. you wondered what it’d feel like to feel your own baby kick.

“so…” alexandra leered mischievously, “do you plan on having children? with lando?”

is everyone asking that today?

you stood up straight, embarrassed by the question, and brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. “for sure. there’s no one else i want. whenever the time is right.”

“he’d be such a good dad.” alexandra added, and you couldn’t agree more.

“you should’ve seen him earlier with penelope—” the girls were reeling at your story. “making bracelets with her. almost tripped over my own dress,” you covered your mouth to laugh, attempting to keep your voice down.

“someone has baby fever.” marta commented.

“ugh,” rebecca groaned. “you two are picturesque. alex and i were just talking about it.”

“oh?” you wished to know more by their insinuation. it wasn’t often that you listened to anything about you or lando’s relationship. half of the time it was negative comments from fans across social media, and you didn’t want the other half to get to your head. you knew you were lucky as is, the least you could do was stay humble.

“ohhhh most definitely.” alexandra nodded. “you’ve been together for what— ever? we’re waiting for an engagement post.”

you were floored. it has been a good amount of time. “so am i,” it came as a laugh. you wondered if lando thought about it. if the thought ever crossed his mind— the possibility of you becoming his wife.

it did.

he was watching you. he’d been done with his interviews for a good ten minutes now, but he was gripped by the scene unfolding before him. he had distracted himself by glancing at his phone, pretending to be scrolling through notifications. but he was staring. hard.

your hand was so tender-loving as it grazed marta’s baby bump. you looked up at her with a graceful smile, asking her important questions about her pregnancy. why were you so interested?

fuck, he hoped the answer he wanted was what you were thinking.

you, pregnant in your floral dresses, pleated gowns, traipsing around the halls of your joint home. barefoot, glowing, effervescent. he could see it now. the vision coming to life, coming to fruition from just a mere fantasy. he felt his dick twitch in his pants, his groin running hot.

he overheard the conversation, too.

“do you plan on having children? with lando?”

for sure. there’s no one else i’d want.

fuuuuck. lando had to turn around, attempting to calm himself down. his entire body was aflame, an eternal gloss of bliss for wanting you. needing you. he needed to feel you. your touch. your skin beneath him, the way you curl effortlessly against the shape of his body.

yeah, he’s fucked.

after a few calming deep breaths, he was at least presentable. with his calmed down cock, he immediately made a beeline in your direction. he wanted—no, needed to get his hands around you as soon as possible. it was a world-ending feeling that suffocated him, gripped him by the throat.

you heard him approach before you saw him. lando’s hands were warm around your hips as he pulled you close. you felt the outline of his cock in his pants as he jut his hips forward. you turned your head over your shoulder, glancing up at him.

his nose found a home in the curve of your neck. you giggled when you felt his stubble tickle your skin, a hand coming instinctively to hold the side of his face tight against your skin. he breathed soundly against you, finding eternal peace of mind plastered against your body.

“it was nice seeing you alex, rebecca.” you began to bid your farewells. “marta, it was a pleasure to meet you.” marta leaned in for a hug, which pulled you away from the warmth of lando’s body. you felt like a snail ripped from its shell— hollow, cold.

“the same for you,” pregnancy looked good on her. though, you can’t recall the last time you’ve seen her without a baby blooming inside her. “if you ever need advice…alex has my number.”

you blushed, feeling lando’s hand around your lower belly tense. “thank you. i’ll be in touch.” you glance towards rebecca and alexandra, following lando’s pace back to the car.

lando’s eyes were hot as they drilled holes into the side of your head. you could feel it, though you weren’t even looking at him. “i can feel your urge to talk, lan.”

he laughed, holding your hand tight in his. “no. no, it’s nothing.”

you stopped dead in your tracks, pulling your hand from his, crossing your arms over your chest.

“okay, okay,” he apologized, taking your hand back into his own, bringing it to his lips to kiss. his lips were warm and wet against your skin. your breath hitched.

“well, go on, then.”

“this is the congratulations i get? damn, baby, you’re rugged.”

you shoved his face away, beginning to walk back to the car once more. “you know i’m proud. don’t be silly, now.”

“i know, i know,” there was a brief silence. “you can show me in other ways.”

“lando!” you gasped, and he broke into a fit of laughter. “dirty bastard.” you mumbled.

“what was that, baby?”

“nothing. nothing. just like what you wanted to tell me, i guess.” two can play at this game. you heard him scoff, but ultimately relent.

“alright, alright. i just…” he became shy with the tone of his voice. you could recognize it instantly. “heard your conversation with the girls, is all.”

you attempted your best effort to still your facial expressions from annoyance, shock, embarrassment, and all of the fucking above.

“you heard…all of it?”

“the gist.”

you tried to cover your face to shield yourself from the world. god, that was your fucking nightmare. you hadn’t ever even touched upon a subject like that with him before. and now he had heard it from you talking to your girlfriends? oh, you just felt like the worst girlfriend in the world right now.

“fuck. i didn’t mean to—”

“no, baby,” he opened the car door for you to slip into the passenger seat. you stepped in, gripping his forearm to sit down.

when he climbed in himself and turned over the engine, you shifted to face him. before you could even open your mouth to speak, he cut you off.

“i want kids, too, you know. with you.”

“oh.” a weight lifted from your shoulders in that moment, and then you felt utterly stupid for thinking that he would’ve reacted badly. this is your lando you’re talking to. a man you can share anything with. “you do?”

he looked flabbergasted. “you’re joking, right?”

you shot your hands up in defense. “i don’t know! children aren’t exactly…temporary. i just— i didn’t know if you thought of me—”

“you’re permanent, love.” his hand wrapped around your thigh as he pulled out of the driver’s lot, whipping past the fans that were keen on snapping a picture of him.

though you’ve known that, deep down, it still hit you like the first time he told you that he loved you. a jaw-dropping epiphany that had been right in front of you the whole time. you’d been short-sighted, enjoying every moment that you had with him, and had become unknowing about the future you’ve been perpetuating with him.

you covered his hand with your own, playing with the bracelets around his wrist. the charm bracelet ‘daddy’ dangled between your fingers, rolling the beads over and over again.

“you’d make a good daddy, wouldn’t you?” you said the words under your breath, but even he could hear them like you’d shouted them in his face. he tightened his grip around your thigh.

“don’t say things like that,” he shook his head, eyes locked on the road ahead.

the air became heavy between you two. when wasn’t it? not only did passion run through your veins, but heinous desire breathed life to your souls.

“why?” you stroked the top of his hand with your nails. “you heard what i said to the girls.” his head lolled against the back rest. “what’s different now?”

you felt the car accelerate. it vibrated the cushion you were nestled atop of, sending shockwaves through your cunt.

“driving me fucking nuts, darling.”

you knew you were. it was the secret to your relationship— the two of you understanding what made you tick. seethe with lust until there was no other option for you to climb him like a tree.

it didn’t take long before he reached the hotel, pulling up to the front. you were getting your things to get up, but he was lost on his phone, pretending to be busy. “coming?” you asked.

“pfft—” you could see him roll his eyes through the rearview mirror. “i wish. give me a second.” you couldn’t help but huff to yourself under your breath, stepping out of the car with your heels clinking to the ground.

with your purse over your shoulder you stepped up onto the curb, but was distracted by a small voice echoing over your shoulder.

down the sidewalk was a mother and a stroller. you smirked lowly, taking only the few steps it’d take to reach the mother and child.

“oh my gosh,” you squealed. the mother was taken back, but by your demeanor and eyes on her baby, she returned a smile. by her pink bonnet and bunny swath, you knew she was the cutest thing you’d ever laid eyes on. “she is just the cutest thing!”

“thank you,” the woman said.

“she looks just like her mama,” you heard lando’s car door open, most definitely within earshot. “don’t you, sweet thing? yes you do!” you cooed at the baby, who erupted in a fit of louder giggles and mumbles.

the mother was flushed, but happy. “you’re too kind. you’re good with children? do you have any of your own?”

jackpot..!!

you clutched your purse as you stood up straight. you played into your theatrics, “oh gosh, i wish! my husband and i have been trying for ages, but he’s just so busy with work…”

the woman tsked with disappointment for you. “you’d make a beautiful mother,”

“you think so?”

she nodded her affirmation.

“that’s so sweet of you.” you were really milking this scene, especially that you knew lando was listening.

“is that your husband there?” she pointed to over your shoulder. and there he was, your husband, watching the two of you from behind the ajar car door.

“mmm, yes, it is.” you offered a cordial wave to him. he stuck two fingers up for a lazy wave, waiting for you to return to him. “i should go. it was a pleasure, ma’am. your baby is adorable.”

she nodded a thanks, and you took your sweet time walking back to the car. you could hear lando tapping the windshield incessantly. before his head dipped down back into the car he called, “get back in.”

you…admit, you were confused. brows furrowed, you opened the passenger side door and bent down, “why—?”

“get in the car,” your name was a rumble in his chest. you still didn’t know what he was doing nor going, and your stubborn self wouldn’t settle for a verbal answer.

you took too long for him. gripping your arm, he pulled you into the passenger seat, and you landed on your ass with a ‘thump’.

he fired up the engine again and pulled out of the traffic circle of the hotel. he radiated with heat— you could feel it from where you sat. “where are we going?”

he didn’t answer you.

you crossed your arms and legs, looking out the window. the area was unknown to you, but lando always seemed like he knew where he was going.

it took only a minute for him to pull into an empty level of a parking garage, dimly lit with only one overhead light at the entrance of the ramp. he put the car in park.

“what are we—”

you couldn’t finish your sentence until you were on his lap, hands gripping your waist so tightly that you had to gasp for air.

“husband?”

oh…!

well, this was a change you welcomed with open arms.

he lowered the seat back until you were straddled atop of him, fingers aimlessly toiling with the zipper of his jeans.

“don’t know what you’re—”

he snapped upward, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “baby,” he breathed, and you shivered. “what do you want?”

your hips naturally moved back and forth against his own, dress hiked well above your stomach. his hand snaked between your legs, feeling the wet patch in your underwear. he hummed when you didn’t reply, flicking his finger upward to graze your clit.

you mewled.

“what was that?”

your hand twisted around the hem of his shirt. you were already breathless, clenching around nothing except the sound of his words.

“tell me,” he muttered, staring up at your disheveled state. he made quick work of sliding your panties to the side, massaging the folds of your cunt between his fingers. you continued your writhing against him.

“want you,” was what you managed to breathe out, hips rutting against his palm. he tsked, but allowed you this moment. a moment for him to bask in the way that you move your hips, writhe against his clothed cock that was egregiously hardening by the second and each amount of pressure you applied.

he slid his fingers in and out of you with ultra maneuvering, in and out, all around. he was a mastermind when it came to feeling you up, exploring you both on the outside, and the in. you were in heaven, ultimately, when he curled his fingers so deeply upon thrusting them. your cunt tightened so viciously around him that he groaned, his head falling back and his hardened cock thrusting upward. to no avail, his dick was strained against the cloth of his pants.

“fuck,” he cussed, curling his fingers over and over again. your body began to shiver, and only began to fall from grace when his thumb traced against your clit. stimulation grew hotter and hotter, until you let out a piercing moan from the depths of your throat. he angled his fingers differently, making you squirm.

“lando!” you breathed, feeling your climax creeping up on you faster than you could even blink. your core tightened, a coil of veracious flames churning around each other manifesting a slew of energy that released sparks from your nerves. your folds were inflamed, puffy, beating hot that you couldn’t think straight. lando was touching you with his other hand anywhere that he could reach. he palmed your breasts through your dress, twisted a nipple to earn a delicious squeal.

“come on, sweet thing,” he encouraged you with that stupid lopsided smile of his, you were looking down on him, sweat beading at his forehead, pupils blown dark and wide. his hand that was groping your breast moved upward, threading around the column of your throat. “show daddy what you’re made of.”

his hand tightened, and you felt the coil snap. he continued to pump his fingers in and out, maneuvering so perfectly, hitting that exact spot with precision.

he knew you came when your eyes rolled back into your head, legs quivering around his waist. god, you’re a sexy thing.

his hand loosened from around your neck, dropping to your chest, fiddling with the van cleef necklace he had gifted you. it reeked of possession, marking you as his with the “l.n.” initials engraved on the back of the golden surface.

the moment of bliss passed before he was pulling the zipped down from your dress and throwing it from over your head. your panties were next, though the fabric was thin as is. there you were, bare and glistening, before your so-called ‘husband’ as you had worded it. he wouldn’t forget it, a spark igniting within him that was lit by the phrase leaving your tongue. he didn’t think that it would affect him so much—

but it did.

he made quick work of his own pants, shoving them down to his knees beneath you, breathless and needy.

you gripped the hem of his shirt. he lifted his arms to hasten the process, and the shirt went to the back seat. with his skin exposed, you couldn’t help but run your hands along his tan, toned chest. it made you dripping wet, though he was barely touching you now.

with your skin atop of his, carnage was sure to ensue. he took a drag of his fingers against your wet cunt and brought it to his lips. he sucked on them, releasing with a ‘pop.’ your mouth hung open in anticipation for what he was going to do next. he always kept you on your toes.

but this…this is not what you expected.

he took a ring from his index finger, plated in silver, and slid it onto your ring finger on your left hand. the wedding finger.

it stuck to your sweaty palm, sure enough to not slip off.

“let’s make it official then, pretty girl.”

you sat upon him astonished, looking down at the adornment that he had given to you. it dazzled on your finger.

“if you’re my wife, what does that make me?”

the words trembled from your lips, thighs tightening around his own. you could feel his dick sprung to life against your backside. “my husband.”

“good, baby, you learn fast.”

you gulped, finally taking a look at him from his propped upright position. he was downright smitten with you, guzzling everything about you inside of him. you were his, so much fucking so, that he was going to ruin you. and he didn’t even feel bad for wanting it.

“my husband…” you repeated, lowering your face down to meet his own. he smelled so good—a mix of sweat and his cologne.

his hand tangled into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail to meet your eye level.

“makes me fucking crazy when y’say it…”

you knew that was the truth. you’d known the minute you sat down in the car. his demeanor had changed, shifted to something darker that you didn’t quite understand. it was insane enough as is that you’d discovered so many things about him within a short period of time.

“husband, daddy…what’s the difference?” you cooed, kissing up and down his neck. he groaned, landing a smack on your ass that had you giggling.

“‘ll just make you a mommy if you keep throwin’ that word ‘round.”

you grinned ear to ear. against his cheek, you took a deep breath in, before letting go.

“daddy.”

if you’ve ever made a good decision in your life, this has to be the best. a switch flipped. gears started to turn in his head. the spark plug burst into flames.

you were his undoer,

the key to his shackled restraint,

the sun to his universe.

it was always you. you’d been right in front of him for the past two years. two years to get to this point. two years for the woman he loved most in this world to be sucking his neck whispering ‘daddy’ into his ear.

lando sat upright in the seat. with a hand at the back of your head, he forced eye contact with you. this was different. this look. you could feel it in your heart, your folds, as they began to beat synchronously. life with him was euphoria, and sex had been the serendipitous release for both of you.

but seeking the future together?

heaven incarnate.

despite being locked inside such a tight space, lando managed to swap your position with a suave move. you were on your back, shocked by his carnal rampage, as he hooked your legs upward. your toes scathed the ceiling of the car, pressed deep into the metal chassis.

“kiss me,” you demanded with the breath that you could take. he didn’t waste a second, leaning down to your lips and capturing you with the most breathtaking press that he could muster. his tongue and your own fought for dominance over one another; you lost, quickly, unable to match his revered pace.

he wanted to eat you from top to bottom. devour your insides, carry you with him every day of his life. you would be his, one way or another, and he didn’t care how it was.

lucky enough, you were more than willing to be his bride, his lover, his person.

because he was yours.

then he was inside of you. braving the treachery of your tight walls, he hissed when the tip of his cock slipped through your folds. you’d been dripping on the leather seat.

“fuck, baby…” his head fell to the crevice of your neck and collarbone.

“oh my goddd…” the moan you both let out was terribly lewd, grotesque, even, with how he didn’t start a pace. you both savored this sweet moment of lust, passion, and a figurative toast to a lifelong commitment to fucking one another.

with each thrust he took, he aimed to make a statement. deeper and deeper he penetrated you, his cock crafted of divine measure with how he quartered your g-spot.

you could never stay still beneath him. it had him on edge the way you squirmed. dare say it was one of the most favorite things about you, though the list would be never-ending. you shiver from pleasure, leaning into him as your cunt squelches beneath you.

echoes of moans bounce off the interior of the car, whilst a smile of greed and possession conceives on his own cheeks. the angle he has you at is deeper than any that you’ve had before— it left no room for noncommittal nature, no room for you to complain about wanting him closer, more, more, more.

“y’feel me here?” his hand rest on your lower belly, your womb, as he applied pressure. you do feel him there. the indent of his cock is poignant, bulging out from the skin.

“mhm…!” you whine, trying to keep your mouth shut from the onslaught of moans pouring out.

his attention turned to your tits as he swallowed a nipple whole with his tongue, sucking feverishly at the sensitive bud. it had you weak, dribbling to puddy.

he could only think about how you’d look pregnant. swollen tits, round belly, glowing with his child.

“this what you wanted?” he grunted, his pace quickening. you were too dumb to speak, a droplet of drool leaking from your mouth. “hm? fuck you—fuck, fill you up?”

your back arched at the sentence, not knowing that his words could have such an arousing effect on you. this arousal was different. the way you clench around him was different. your actions spoke a lot louder than your words.

“yeah? i can feel you, darling.” sounds of skin slapping and your hoarse voice could only be heard. he fucked you so good, treated you even better. fuck it, you’d rather be pregnant than anything else.

“please, please…” you didn’t know what you were pleading for, in truth— he was already fucking you like he’d been in a rut.

“yeah? that what you want? want a baby?”

your head nodded furiously up and down, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks. lando bent down to kiss them away, followed by a capturing of your lips. he swallowed your breaths, your moans. he trailed kisses down the column of your throat; your collarbones, breasts, nipples, nothing went untouched by his mouth.

“god…these…” he muttered against your tits, voice sending shockwaves through your body. “imagine how big they’d be.” he managed to chuckle to himself. “swollen and beautiful,” he kissed the top of your abdomen.

“lando…”

his head shot up from his daze.

“the time is right. please, please—” your words seemed to hit him like a truck. the foreplay had turned reality, and he was more than ready to lurch into fate.

“what, pretty girl?”

your face flushed, biting your lip. “give me a baby, need it—lan, need it so bad.” your hand found the back of his neck, tugging on the strands of his hair.

he tsked, his pace evening out to a level throttle. your lips formed a sweet pout, and he stroked your chin with his index finger. “give you?” he mocked. “oh, don’t think that’s how we ask, do we?”

“lan…please, please, can i have your baby? need it so bad lando, need it…” you swallowed your breath. “daddy…wanna make you a daddy…please.”

it was more than enough for him. “atta girl.” he grunted, deepening his lackluster thrusts into thrilling rides on his cock. “y’learn fast…kids ‘r gonna be so smart.”

“yes, yes! so good, lan.” you heaved, the heat in your cunt finding a boiling point, and he felt it by how tight you became around him.

“go on, baby, take it. be a good girl and take it all.” you’d do anything to hear your lando call you a good girl. it had been more than enough to send you over the edge into a spiraling orgasm that had slick seeping around his cock. your vision whitened, and you could only see the shadow of your ‘husband’ through the light.

with sloppy thrusts, lando came with ease. he didn’t pull out urgently, letting his cum soak inside of you. he peppered kisses along your ankles, your calves, and let them fall to the seat.

out of breath, your chests rose and fell at a rapid pace. lando’s forehead connected with your own, and through the haze of post-sex, he smiled at you.

you smiled back. the two of you broke into a laugh.

“fuckin’ knew that was gonna happen today.” he commented lazily into your chest. a hand of yours threaded through his brown curls.

“your mastermind plan to babytrap me.”

he raised a brow. “did you plan on leaving?”

you gave him a knowing look. “not in the slightest.��

he became embarrassed and sheepish as he hid his face into your ribs. “no chance of it, now.”

you chuckled, flexing your fingers to see the ring still there. “i want a real proposal, by the way.”

his head shot up. “what? this wasn’t good enough?”

you palmed his face with one hand, and tugged the back of his curled head with the other. “bastard.”

it only took you two ten minutes to get your clothes back on from such a leisurely excursion from the empty parking garage. covered in his spit, sweat, and cum, you didn’t feel….dirty.

when he finally pulled up to the valet and opened the door for you, you stepped out as graciously as possible. though your hair was a tangled mess— you tried your best. lucky enough it was late enough to where minimal paparazzi were gathered. thank god.

you shifted on your feet, shimmying the dress down, but lando came to your rescue. he pulled the dress down where it was crumpled at the back, caught between the hem of your soaked underwear.

“that was a rental, wasn’t it?” you pointed out, looking over your shoulder.

“they should auction it.”

you spun around and laughed in his face, gagged by the ego he has. “you have a big head.”

“need all that room for you.”

“cheesy.”

lando’s eyes lit up— though exhausted from the day and your antics, the sun still rose for him— “almost forgot—” he reached into his pocket whilst you waited patiently.

he pulled out a bracelet.

a friendship bracelet.

“thought it suited you.” he put it around your wrist, and you analyzed it clearly. in white, capitalized letters it read:

“MOMMY”

“you really had this thing planned.” you were impressed.

he shifted on his heels, throwing his hands up as if saying ‘what can i say?’ “p thinks you’re pregnant now.”

you gasped. “lando!”

“i mean…hopefully.” he winked as you fiddled with the jewelry, still not bothering to take off the ring from your finger.

“well…” you brought a finger to your lips, thinking, “we have to be certain, don’t we?”

lando was catching your drift as you walked backwards towards the entrance of the hotel, luring him in with your charisma. “perhaps…”

“so…we need to try again.” he wasn’t going to argue with that. “and again.” or that. “and again, for good measure.”

“you’re gonna kill me, baby.” he whined, chasing you up the steps. you squealed, running forward. inside the elevator you two went, clicking the floor for your room.

after further inspection, lando’s brows furrowed after he glanced over you. “what?”

he covered his mouth to shield his devious smile.

“what, lando?”

he coughed to hide his amusement, but it was a very bad act. “you’re…”

“what?”

“you’re dripping.”

you looked down at your thighs and saw the glistening reflection of his cum seeping out of you. fuck. maybe the first time was the charm, but you hoped it wasn’t.

you really hoped it wasn’t.

tags ; @landoslutmeout@basicallyric@mybluesoul1@toriiez@customsbyjcg-blog@sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch

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