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azuredawn81 · 15 days ago

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patron of the arts p4 | quinn hughes x musician!reader

part 3

♫ summary: quinn and y/n go to new jersey to meet his family. she's nervous. his family just adores her.

♫ pairing: quinn hughes x reader

♫ content: fluff, flirty!quinn, queen ellen, mama’s boy!quinn

♫ word count: 2k

♫ warnings: the eras tour (sorry to everyone who didn’t go)

♫ note: merry christmas

❅ tags: @verycoolusername1 @luvoblivixus @tomskookie @leclerc-drives-in-circles@dream-girl06 @skepvids@how-what-why-huh @devilinpradaheels @r0wdymaize86 @summert158 @lolatokki@captainhuggys @camiesully

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“baby, are you sure you got everything?” quinn said, a smirk on his face. there’s no way y/n could’ve forgotten anything, not when she packed the whole apartment.

“yes, i’m sure.”

“just double checking. can’t let your forget perfume number 5.”

“oh, that reminds me, should i wear miss dior or good girl to meet your mom?”

quinn just blinked, exasperated. “y/n, it does not matter. my mom will think you’re amazing.”

“so, chance?”

“you’re hopeless.”

“hopelessly in love!”

“unless you want to put the bags in the car, go sit down.”

y/n sat in the passenger seat, plugging in her phone for music.

“you better not be putting on taylor!”

“you were at the eras tour!”

“höggy made me go!”

he slammed the trunk shut and sat down in the driver’s seat.

“and did you enjoy it?”

“i mean, i kinda liked vigilant sh-”

she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “don’t you dare finish that sentence, quinny.”

“i’d rather see you do that.”

“ugh, i have to go on a eight hour flight with this sicko!”

“the sicko that holds you every night.”

“the very one.”

“you know i love you, right?”

y/n made an affirmative hum noise, staring out the window.

“no, no, look at me.”

“yeah?”

“turn your head.”

“what?”

“i love you.”

she kissed him again.

“baby, you gotta say it back.”

like clockwork, her lips were on his yet again. “i love you more.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

quinn held her hand as they boarded the plane, taking their seats in first class. y/n got the window, quinn got the aisle.

“goodnight, love.”

“goodnight? baby, it’s 1pm.”

y/n pushed the divider between their seats up and nestled into quinn’s arms. “goodnight.”

“forgetting something?”

“oh right!” she leaned down and grabbed her purse. inside, was a little bag containing her sleep mask.

“goodnight, quinny.”

he pressed a kiss to her forehead and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “goodnight, my sweet girl.”

as soon as she was asleep, quinn put his airpods in. he’d been taking a break from podcasts to listen to what he viewed as the highest form of music, the new vso album. it was about 45 minutes, so he could listen to it about eleven times. eight and a half hours, snuggling his girl, staring out the window. this was going to be an easy flight.

“mr hughes?” the flight attendant asked.

“hi.”

“would you like anything to drink?”

“just a water.” he nudged y/n. “angel, wake up.”

“what?” she muttered, groggily.

“drink?”

“it’s too early.”

“2:30, love.”

“diet coke… with the little biscuits.”

“so a diet coke and water?”

“yes, please.”

“ice?”

“angel, you want ice?”

“sure…”

“i’ll be right back.”

y/n was already back asleep.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

quinn: hey mom

quinn: we’re on the plane

ellen: oh good

ellen: is y/n feeling alright? quinn: she won’t admit it, but she’s a little nervous

quinn: she’s performed for presidents and heads of state

quinn: flown out to perform at the coronation for king charles

quinn: but meeting you and dad is scaring her

ellen: oh poor girl

ellen: i love her already

quinn: you do?

ellen: yes of course

ellen: she’s made you so happy

ellen: she actually has substance and her own career

ellen: and the grandbabies i’d get… adorable

quinn: mom be so serious right now

ellen: i am!

ellen: she has a nice nose.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

“angel… angel, wake up.”

“no….”

“we’re landing soon. if you keep sleeping, your ears will hurt.”

“too early…”

“tausk will be mad if you can’t use your perfect pitch.”

y/n jolted awake. “don’t say that name, i’m on break.”

“you’re so cute when you sleepy… and asleep.”

“were you watching me sleep?”

“baby, we’ve been on this plane for almost nine hours, yes i watched you sleep.”

“this is what i mean, you’re a creep.”

“i had to be your pillow for eight hours.”

“and? you’re my boyfriend?”

“i love you.”

“love you too.”

she put her earbuds in and leaned against quinn, smiling. he pulled out his phone to text his brothers.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

da boyz 😈

quinn: 30 minutes till we land

jack: lets gooooo

luke: how’s y/n

quinn: tired

quinn: she slept the whole flight

quinn: she’s very nervous

luke: why

jack: probably mom

quinn: all of you actually

luke: no way she’s nervous about meeting me

quinn: she’s nervous cause you’re my brother idiot

jack: mom loves her already

quinn: y/n doesn’t know

luke: did you not tell her

quinn: no i did

quinn: she just doesn’t believe me

jack: she’s mostly just happy that y/n is famous for something other than wearing bikinis

luke: dude you can NOT be talking

quinn: yeah jack one of us has to

jack: ok whatever

jack: luke and i will be at the airport soon

luke: mom and dad won’t be staying with us

luke: but don’t think that mean you and y/n can be loud all night

jack: luke that would mean quinn gets action

quinn: who has the girlfriend

jack: you and me both dork

luke: 😔

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

“i think i have a pretty good idea of your family. you talk about them a lot,” y/n said, watching quinn grab their suitcases from the overhead bin.

“quick refresh.”

“uh-huh.”

“don’t leave your food unattended around luke.”

“you’ve made that clear.”

they walked off the plane into the airport, his hand holding her so tightly.

“seems like you’re the nervous one, quinny.”

“me? no.”

“your hand’s clammy.”

“is it?”

“are you nervous?”

“very.”

“you’re just seeing your family.”

“yeah, but i’m bringing you home and i haven’t brought home a girl in a long time. and you’re amazing. but with an atypical job.”

“i don’t want the hockey player telling me how i have an atypical job.”

“lots of people are pro athletes, y/n.”

“and lots of people are musicians.”

“tomatoes, tomahtoes.”

“uh-huh.”

“oh, and my mom’s gonna be asking if we’re gonna get married soon or have kids and i don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or anything.”

“quinn, i know we’re going to get married.”

he raised an eyebrow. “what makes you think that?”

“you call me mrs. hughes in your sleep.”

quinn didn’t look back at her, just looking straight ahead.

“cat got your tongue?”

“shut up.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

“jack, look.”

“she’s so pretty.”

“that’s our new sister.”

y/n’s eyes widen as she spotted them. she waved. quinn gave her a look that said “what are you doing?” until he followed her line of sight and saw his brothers. then, he frowned.

luke had a sign that said “welcome back from rehab!”

jack had a sign that said “just married! quinn & y/n”

“are you two serious?” he asked, getting jack in a headlock.

while those two fought like brothers do, luke hugged y/n. “i finally get a big sister.”

“quinn’s dated before, no?”

“yeah, but i can tell you’re the real thing.”

“thanks, luke.”

“c’mon, i’ll carry your stuff. mom and dad are waiting.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

“welcome to casa hughes.” jack said, opening the door into his and luke’s apartment. “you two will be down the hall.”

quinn led y/n down to the spare room, where an air mattress had been set up.

“try not to use the closet, it’s storage,” luke said, peeping his head in.

“bye, luke.”

“bye, y/n.”

he closed the door, leaving the happy couple alone.

“this is quite the bachelor pad.”

“yeah, not all of us have amazing girlfriends with a penchant for peonies.”

“shame.”

they laid on the air mattress, on top of the dark blue sheets that smelled faintly of sweat.

“ready to meet my parents?”

“i’d like to fix my hair first.”

“i’m sure that can be arranged.”

she nestled a little closer to quinn. he wrapped his arms around her, like a teddy bear. “q, you’re so warm.”

“i aim to please.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

y/n was wearing a little black satin dress with black heels. her hair was in a cute updo, a silver pin holding it in place. in one hand was her purse, in the other was quinn’s hand. he was wearing his suit, the one he typically wore for gamedays.

“if you put that stupid beanie on your head, i’m dumping you and going back to vancouver.”

“you wouldn’t.”

“yeah, you’re right. luke would probably be my favorites hughes, thought.”

“that’s crossing a line.”

“love ya, q.”

“god, can you two save this for after dinner?” jack asked from behind the wheel.

“sorry, jacky.”

“thank goodness, we’re here,” luke muttered, getting out of the car.

quinn stepped out, then gave y/n his hand to help her out. he pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles.

“what a charmer.”

“i love you.”

inside the restaurant, jim and ellen were already waiting at a table. the kids joined them, luke sitting next to ellen and jack, quinn, and y/n on the other side of the table. ellen scanned y/n up and down before smiling.

“good job, quinn.”

“thanks, mom.” he was as red as a tomato.

“mrs. hughes, it is such a pleasure to finally meet you and mr. hughes. i have nothing but respect for you two and-”

“y/n, you don’t need to talk like that unless you’re about to tell us about your pregnancy.”

“pregnancy? mrs. hughes, i assure you that-”

“y/n, y/n, you’re okay. you can just call me ellen. jim and i already like you.”

“really?”

“did quinn not tell you?”

“no, he did.”

“i did.”

“the poor girl didn’t believe me.”

“she’s really nervous, mom.”

ellen turned back to y/n. “don’t be nervous. you’re the best girl out there for little quintin.”

“mom!”

“if things keep going the way they are, she’ll know your full name. they have to print it on marriage certificates.”

“we’re just taking things slow.”

the rest of dinner flowed with ease. quinn was thrilled to be back with his brothers. ellen and y/n swapped stories about quinn, like how he set off the smoke detectors making pizza when he was 12 and how he did the same thing just last tuesday. jim was impressed with y/n’s jazz knowledge and vice verse. she showed him pictures of her replica of miles davis’ moon and stars trumpet, the one she played during her jazz stint in new york.

“thank you for dinner, ellen.”

“thank you for taking care of my quinn. i haven’t seen the boy this happy since he got drafted.”

“i try my best.”

“you’ve really turned his life around, y/n. i’m so glad he’s stopped partying.”

“how do you know about that?”

“give it a few years. you’ll know too.”

“what do you mean?”

“moms always know.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

“y/n, come to bed.”

“give me a second! someone can’t remember how to leave their sleeves facing the right way.”

“is that- is that my hoodie? from earlier?”

“… maybe.”

“baby, i wore that on the plane!”

“and? it smells like you.”

he opened his arms for her as she laid next to him. the blanket was tugged across the two of them, engulfing them in a warm cocoon.

“how did i get so lucky?”

“i ask that every day.”

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 8 months ago

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never not mine | jjk | "i hear..."

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

Bygones will be bygone eras, fading into grey. Breaking up with Jeon Jungkook had been a vicious, clean break. He tried to take it back, but the damage was already done. You walked out of the world you didn't belong in, at least until Kim Taehyung calls your name.

this is part i | part ii | part iii

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of controlling behaviors in a romantic relationship; reader is emotionally distant after said breakup; second chance romance?; angst and fluff and feels; your POV

non-idol!AU; fashion model!Jungkook — ft fellow model/actor!Kim Taehyung and model/businessman!Kim Seokjin; and a certain Maestro cameo; reader is not part of the entertainment industry

“Please love me again.”

You could hear him saying it but you pretended not to hear. You pretended not to know. You pretended he wasn’t there. He was persona non grata. No, he was simply another blurry face amongst many that faded into the grey background of grey days. He was only a ghost. If he happened to be in the same place as you were, it wasn’t any of your damn business. People were allowed to be wherever they wanted to be.

“I’m sorry.”

Yes, he was.

Sorry that he couldn’t walk all over you like he wanted. Sorry that he couldn’t control you on that leash like he wanted. Sorry that you had the balls to cut all ties and not put up with his selfish bullshit anymore. Sorry. What a word. Your response had not been a vindictive one, though. You hadn’t blocked him on social media. You figured he would block you himself. The last moments were him berating you for being late, what if something happened to you, I was worried, and you snapping. It had taken every fiber of your being to not fling your clutch in his face and tell him to take himself out if he cared so much.

“I understand what you meant now.”

The first couple times he attempted to speak to you after it all, you were ice-cold furious. So angry that you simply refused to speak to avoid spitting literal fire. So, you didn’t. And then it became a habit. Then you stopped caring. You stopped feeling. You lived your life.

Alone.

Like an abandoned puppy, Jeon Jungkook followed you every chance he got, but there were less and less chances as time went on. You would walk past him. He would follow until it was definitely too creepy and simply stop, staring after you with a lost look in his empty eyes. Everyone could see the broken heart in his stare.

A lot of people asked you what happened.

It was a valid question.

It was just as valid for you to not answer.

“I’m not going to talk about that. We can talk about something else.”

You avoided people who couldn’t let it go or cut them out altogether. What was the point of shit-talking, taking sides, making yourself angry over things that couldn’t be changed? What was the point of being upset over nights that couldn’t be taken back? Over phone calls and you sitting alone in a restaurant, empty chair in front of you and the reason in your hand, an opportunity came up, I’m leaving for Los Angeles in the morning, I need to pack, bye. Over trips suddenly cut short in the middle, the agency called, another model got sick last minute so I gotta go, just stay here and have fun. By yourself. Over accusations, what are you doing right now, send a photo, now. Over doubts, are you really at the supermarket, I don’t know, you could be doing anything, I’m not there after all. Over being five minutes late because the taxi you had taken was driven by an older gentleman chatting away, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him to shut up simply because of a boy.

Five minutes.

“Where were you? You need to tell me if you’re late. What if something happened? I was worried.”

“The driver was talking to me.”

“And you couldn’t text that you were okay?”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Am I not your priority?” he had hissed.

Snap.

All those times, all those moments, okay, I understand, it’s fine, you can make it up to me later, they all came back to you in vivid recollections, and you had stared at Jeon Jungkook. All those people saying how lucky you must be having such a good-looking guy, an actual fashion model, must be so nice, and you only said nice things about him because it didn’t occur to you to complain, no, it would be silly to complain about someone you loved. That was part of loving someone, wasn’t it, being in love was putting up with these things and believing in their words. All those instances, prove what you’re doing, send a photo. Now. All that shit got you to this moment right here, right now, under this furious scrutiny, his dark brows furrowed, his pretty mouth twisted in a frown, his question ringing in your ears.

His accusation in which he had already deemed you guilty.

“The fuck you say to me?” you had growled softly.

Never once did you ask him what he was doing in the destination that he was at. Never once did you fault him for going out and having fun. Never once did you say anything about the multiple social posts of beaches and hotels and nightclubs and everyone scantily-clad, his arms around fellow models, pressed up against fabulous guys and glamorous girls. If he didn’t answer you for a couple days, you assumed it was due to long shoot days and combined jetlag making him crash. The very answer he gave you the first time you asked. You believed him then. There was no need to ask for confirmation over and over if you trusted him. And you did trust him.

Now, this.

“I was five minutes late. If I thought I would be later, I would have texted you,” you explained with emotionless calm. “At least I showed up. At least I didn’t make you sit down in the restaurant, wait around for an hour only to get a text that you aren’t coming. Not even a phone call anymore.”

You hadn’t raised your voice.

He had looked taken aback.

“But… I thought you would understand.”

“Of course, I understand.” The seething anger was white-hot but your tone was crystal-clear cold. “I can understand, as long as you show me some grace and appreciation for not losing my shit every time it happens. Am I not your priority? When have I ever been yours?”

He tried to answer quickly. “You’re always–”

But you were already pulling up the rideshare app, calling another car to come pick you up. “Am I? Then why accuse me the second I get out of the car? Where was I? In the taxi. You saw me get out of it. Why are you holding five minutes over my head like a death sentence, as if I surely betrayed you in those extra five minutes? If it’s you it could be five, thirty, hours, but I have to understand you are networking. I have to understand you are being personable. I have to understand that you are practicing being friendly because it doesn’t come naturally to you.”

Jungkook simply gawked at you, wide-eyed.

You narrowed your eyes, creating a distance he could no longer cross.

“Am I just here so you have someone to visit when you’re bored? Someone to fuck?”

Maybe the vulgarity was taking it too far. Maybe saying all of this in public right now was in poor taste. His jarring question rang in your head. Am I not your priority? Maybe you were wrong to say it all now, but it was the way he said it, as if your love for him had become invalid once you were five minutes late to the appointed time for this date that you didn’t know whether or not he would abandon you in the middle of or take you home and rock your world – and you realized you didn’t care what the outcome was.

You just didn’t give a fuck anymore.

There were so many things he could have done. He could break up with you if his career was more important. He could say sorry more. He could find ways to make it up to you. He could, but he didn’t, and you understood. But this. This you could not understand. This he could not do.

No.

This you would not let him do.

If this was innocent concern, he made it worse by coming off as suffocating and hovering. Now, you realized that no excuse would have been good enough to convince him otherwise. He had already made up his mind to attack you the second you walked out of that car, delivering in the fatal blow instantly. All those moments. All those times had become hair-thin cracks, marring the bond between you and him, tiny little slices to kill the relationship and your will to be in it.

“I don’t think…”

He trailed off, not completing his thought.

The car pulled up.

This was surely the meaning of quiet treason.

“No, you don’t,” you had finished for him with icy agreement. “You expect. You expect me to be here and hold your hand when you want it, and now I know you will never ask me if I ever need my hand held.”

You had stepped away from the curb, not once raising your voice, no longer looking at him, your knuckles digging into your beaded black clutch. You expected it to hurt at least a little.

It was nothing compared to this death by a thousand cuts.

“W-Wait!”

You didn’t.

You had opened the car door and closed it quickly. The driver requested you to confirm your name. You tersely nodded. They didn’t ask any further questions even as you witnessed Jungkook’s shocked face in the side mirror as the vehicle drove away. You didn’t look back. You didn’t even cry. Maybe you should have given him a chance to say something. A chance to change.

Except you had.

This wasn’t the first time that you had this conversation, although the first time was you sitting him down and saying, hey, if you’re not sure about your schedule, let’s not arrange any dates around those days. We can go out when things settle down. The answer was agreement and all was well for a couple weeks. And then it would happen again. And then you would bring it up again. Whoops. And again.Then he would ask you what you were doing when he wasn’t there. Oh, really? Send pictures.You asking, this is a bit much, isn’t it? The answer being, I want to know you’re safe. You finally admitting that it drove you a bit crazy. Him laughing and saying he was a bit of a handful, brushing away your concerns in light of his own.

Five minutes.

Am I not your priority?

The anger had nowhere to go.

Like how summer turned into fall and then into winter, the anger grew cold and dense and concentrated. A stone. Then one day you turned it over and found nothing underneath. You stopped caring. On one hand, you could have been the bigger person and reached out. On another hand, you didn’t see the reason in wasting any more time. What good was closure? What good would it do, talking it out and getting the same result? Deserve this, deserve that. Fair or not, at the end of the day, it didn’t work and there was no forcing something if neither party wanted to really try. I understand, until you couldn’t anymore.

Now.

Now, you would sit alone at restaurants and not be disappointed.

Table for one, yes, thank you.

Now you would spend hours at the games store and no one would be asking you to take pictures and prove that you were there. He used to play video games too, but he gradually fell out of them. Busy. Felt like he couldn’t keep up. Sold his PC because he was never home.

Emptiness where he had once enjoyed spending that time with you.

You would stay at the music store for a long time, looking over albums and wondering if you should buy them. It had been such a long time. You never listened to CDs anymore although you had been obsessed with music as a kid. The past felt like a different time. Memories of a clunky CD player and wired headphones with the metal arch over your head and those spongey earcups. Now you had wireless earbuds and a phone. Still, you looked over the colorful albums and wondered if you should get one, just to have it or maybe even put it on display. He used to listen to a lot of music too. Probably still did, on planes and in cars. He used to share your taste.

Now you didn’t have to share anything.

You stuck with your favorites, still, for years. It was an ever-growing list of popular artists as well as lesser-known indie artists that you never forgot. You made sure to listen to the top hits as well since those songs were popular for a reason. The occasional earworm could lead you down a pleasant rabbit hole, too.

You picked up an album of a band you liked but had never owned and went home.

Got that dopamine unboxing it and smiling at the photocards. Looked through the extras with the album on repeat playing through your Bluetooth speaker. You didn’t do these kinds of things in front of Jungkook usually. You had always prioritized engaging with him. Listening to his stories, looking at the photos of places he had been, shaking your head at the long hours or difficult call times. Every moment precious because you would never know when it would be cut short.

You had made everything about him when in his presence.

You hadn’t blasted the relationship all over social media although it was obvious. For the most part, people had been respectful. You hadn’t deleted all the photos he was in, the photos he had taken of you, nor had you blocked him. People asked. You repeated the same thing over and over. I’m not going to talk about that. We can talk about something else. People eventually stopped asking. Old news was old news. There was no visible resentment, and so the interest died out.

You caught Jungkook looking at you from across the concessions stand at the movie theater.

Those big dark brown eyes filled with rueful invitation.

You didn’t know what movie he was going into, but you turned away and didn’t think about it much.

Watched the movie you paid for, alone.

Went home.

Alone.

You used to watch movies twice. Once by yourself when it released, then a second time when Jungkook could make it. When he could. Sometimes he couldn’t and the movie was already out of theaters. Then you both would watch it at home when it released on streaming services. It was what it was. You enjoyed movies. You had the time and money to watch them twice. But now you didn’t have to.

That was nice.

You weren’t sure if Jungkook was deliberately going places that you often frequented or if it was coincidence. It was likely the latter, because he usually wasn’t alone. He had a group of friends that lived in this area and often came to visit them. He used to joke that it must have been fate for you to meet as your friend circles didn’t overlap. At least he had not shown up to the video games store or the music store you usually went to, so you didn’t feel threatened in any way. Maybe he was visiting his friends more because he was sad. Maybe he was visiting them more in hopes of seeing you, the same tactic he used when he first asked you out. Maybe it was both.

It was probably both.

Sometimes you would cry in frustration.

Sometimes you would play games to distract yourself.

Sometimes you didn’t mind too much as the days passed. Sometimes you would look outside and admire the sun. Sometimes it would rain and that was nice too. Sometimes you were sad but it wasn’t a negative feeling. Such was the natural course. Sadness was the promise of happiness to come, because one couldn’t exist without the other.

At least, you believed so.

Ther wasn’t much more you could do than that.

For a bit there you had almost thought the relationship hadn’t mattered because you had walked away so coldly. In some ways, you wished you could take it back. In other ways, you didn’t. It was hard to discount years of your life simply because of how the chapter ended. There had definitely been unique experiences that you were unlikely to relive. You used to attend lavish parties with Jungkook, especially many around the holidays. You would dress up in your best and put on a brave face. A lovely dress, the high heels he brought you, carefully done makeup and hair. Jungkook would walk in with you gliding beside him, silently holding his arm. People would tell you how fun it was working with him and how lucky he was to have such a pretty and understanding lady. These were all work events full of unfamiliar faces. Jungkook used to be reserved and hang out with you in corners but, as he got more popular, more people roped him into conversations, remember this, and he would slip in with his friends, naturally, laughing and smiling. You would wait nearby, at yet another party surrounded by better bodies, and somehow he would find you at the end of the night, ask you if you had fun.

And you would smile and assure him.

“Something like that.”

The best parties were the ones thrown by his friend Kim Taehyung. He had been in the entertainment industry for a long time, becoming Jungkook’s friend though their crossed paths in modeling. He had an affliction for celebration and Jungkook was always invited, which meant you, too, bore witness to many magnificent events hosted by him. The most extravagant were his own birthday parties. Quite so, as the date was after Christmas, and he continued the festive mood. Taehyung loved a theme. He would rent specific venues, arrange for live music, impose a dress code, everything. One year, he flew everyone out to Paris and rented an entire restaurant to celebrate. Even if you barely knew anyone there, it was fun being in a different world created by Taehyung’s magical vision. Everyone was thrown into it together, experiencing the vibes of an old American jazz club, the white beaches with glass waters during Christmastime, or a playful night filled with Taehyung’s favorite childhood games and sweet treats, complete with food stalls from the area of Daegu he grew up in.

You didn’t fit in, but no one did because these were all Taehyung’s fantasies brought to life.

He always sent the invitations by physical mail, on stunning stationery to match the theme. Someone else must have created them, but seemingly Taehyung approved them all as every single one contained his unique flourishing signature. You kept them in a box. They were too pretty to throw away.

You had received an invitation this year too, to a midnight masquerade ball, but you didn’t go.

Perhaps he didn’t know yet. Or, perhaps he did know and Jungkook asked him to invite you. They were quite close. If there was a plan, you didn’t take the bait. The date came and went. Maybe Taehyung considered you a friend, but that was probably a stretch. Jungkook didn’t like you talking to Taehyung too much.

Apparently, you made him smile too big.

Or something.

Taehyung had an entire party to get to every time you met him, anyway. You would have to shoo him off because there was very little night and Taehyung wanted to speak to every guest one-on-one. He was sincere like that. He was romantic like that. He was dark and handsome and in his own head, in his constant dream of living his wonderful life that, from what you could discern, he deserved. He even always remembered to ask the staff working at his party to eat cake with them. At the end of the night, Taehyung would pick up the microphone and thank the guests for coming and thank the staff for working hard to provide everyone with a good time. Taehyung always remembered to say thank you and he always made sure to express his gratitude to everyone, no matter their status.

You missed being at his party, a little bit, if only just to witness a fairy-tale in real life.

But you weren’t part of Jeon Jungkook’s world anymore.

And so you missed the party.

Please love me again.

On quiet, grey days, you realized how very boring your life was. On quiet, grey days, you were tempted to think about the good times. About his laugh, about his starry eyes when you came into view, about enchanted nights where you would both make magic between bodies. On quiet, grey days, you were tempted to pick out all his flaws until the memories were burned, images stricken with ash, never to be the same again. On quiet, grey days, you had every chance to run back or run away, at least in your head, but instead you lived your very boring life doing neither of those choices.

Whether you loved him or hated him, the result would still be the same.

You entered the artisan tea shop and greeted the staff. You talked about how your father was into tea, chatted about what would make a good gift. The prices of the sets. The amount of loose-leaf tea and how many cups it would make. The various flavors and strength. You smelled a bunch of different ones. Rejected some, remained indecisive about others, accepted a few as contenders.

You heard the bell by the door chime again, musical and clear.

A male’s voice, deep and polite.

You tensed. Your body knew before your mind caught up. You pointed to several flavors you had liked, and the employee suggested a gift box sampler featuring a watercolor camellia-printed limited-edition teacup set that you agreed to readily, all the while vaguely aware of a tingling behind your neck and a vigilant tension forming in your lungs. But it wasn’t until your name was called that you turned around by instinct, and then froze with recognition. Dark brown eyes under graceful black-brown waves. Tan skin glimmering under the lights. The image completed by a three-piece chocolate brown suit paired with a ruffled warm gray dress shirt and sharp dark leather oxfords. The stylish man smiled widely, box-like, and walked towards you without hesitation.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Kim Taehyung must have known, and yet.

You bowed lightly. “Hello.”

The sales associate was immediately charmed by Taehyung’s deep voice and dashing appearance, their gloved hands hovering over the half-packed box and openly ogling the demandingly handsome gentleman that took your hand warmly before lightly kissing your knuckles. Straight out of a movie. Probably learned it from one, or from traveling in Europe. He let go after a lingering moment.

He had said your name with the same velvety warmth he had at all of his parties.

It had hurt, but it wasn’t his fault.

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while. Are you buying something?” He raised his head and daintily smiled at the employee before giving you his full attention again. “Let me pay for it.”

“No, ah,” you interrupted him quickly, handing over your card before Taehyung could reach into his heavily lined pockets. “No, sorry. I’m buying a gift for my father.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he apologized immediately, retracting his hands. “I meant to do something nice for you and I’ve overstepped.”

“It’s… It’s alright,” you chuckled softly, trying to dissipate the awkwardness. You turned slightly to sign the receipt, not looking at the price. Your card went back into your black leather bow purse. “You had no way of knowing. How are you? And your parents?”

Taehyung was still a little sheepish but he remained next to you at a respectful distance. “Me? I guess you could say I’m holding on. I think I might take a small break soon and spend a week with my family. How did you know I was thinking of them?” He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a mind-reader.”

You shook your head with a smile, taking the beautifully wrapped bag and bowing in gratitude to the employee. “No, you’ve just never been a big tea drinker. It was only a guess.”

He scratched the back of his head and sighed lightheartedly. “Ah, you’re right. I wanted to buy a grown-up gift, but maybe I should have asked what they wanted. I don’t know the first thing about tea.”

You both began to walk towards the entrance.

“You’re their adorable child. They will love anything you gift them.”

Taehyung grinned. “So, you think I’m adorable?”

You opened your mouth and then.

Then you were suddenly hyperaware of the brightness of the lights in the tea store. Suddenly aware of all the customers around you milling about and chatting with their friends and the employees. Suddenly the scents of the store were too strong and too varied and suddenly a phantom grip on your arm from a time long past pulled you away from your center, into the past, and you remembered all the times you stood in a corner of a party, on the outskirts of alcohol, music, and magic, wondering why you were so, so alone.

You plastered a smile on your face and replied pleasantly.

“Of course, you are, Kim Taehyung.”

It lasted a second.

Maybe less.

Taehyung gazed at you with curious eyes.

You kept the smile on your face.

He stepped past you and opened the door, gesturing you to walk out before him in the most gentlemanly way, smiling with his eyes crinkling as they usually did when he laughed or was in his comfort zone. “Come. Let me at least treat you to lunch,” he insisted.

You accepted his graciousness and turned as you walked to face him as you spoke. “That’s really not necessary. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

He chuckled, the sound coming deep from his chest. “Of course, I’m busy, but I always have time for a friend.” He shrugged nonchalantly, grinning. “My manager expects this kind of behavior from me anyway.”

You paused, looking up at him. “Friend?”

Flutters of lashes and confusion in dark brown orbs.

“Are we not friends?”

People around you continued walking, giving you and Taehyung weird looks. He didn’t seem to notice, undeterred by the world around him that wasn’t currently in his focus, the main character at every moment in his life, oblivious to anyone trying to get under his skin with their judgements, never the accessory to someone else.

It turned out to be more difficult than you thought, saying the words.

“I… well… Don’t you know that Jeon Jungkook and I aren’t dating anymore?”

Taehyung tilted his head with childlike innocence.

“Um… so you don’t eat lunch anymore?”

You blinked at him.

“Huh?”

He gave you this look. You stared back. For a moment the disconnect was so tangible that you almost had a word for it. A zephyr ruffled Taehyung’s soft curls. The sun made his skin glow and his dark eyes sparkle. Small signs of Mother Nature affectionately acknowledging one of her children. He smiled. It was then that you realized this was a decision you could make. A decision of a lonely self, not a lonely self that was an extension of another. A yes or no that didn’t have to be polluted by the past.

“Well…”

Your hands tightened on the straps of the gift bag.

“If you’ll have me.”

Taehyung grinned. “I know just the spot! You’ll love it.”

It was nice lunch.

No, it was wonderful time.

You had been worried that you would be underdressed in your calf-length flowy black dress and chunky knit lavender cardigan, but you fit right in. Taehyung had picked a busy rooftop brunch spot. It was French-themed, or at least as French as Korea could get. There was a bit more wood than brass and crystals. It still made for a nice hideaway. It seemed Taehyung was well recognized here, and yet people maintained a distance regardless. It must have been his polite yet stern demeanor. When he sat down though, he seemed to relax, waving a hand and telling you to order whatever you liked.

You never could turn down good brioche.

You thought it would have been awkward, at least. It wasn’t. He talked about his work, asked about yours. Asked what you thought about this or that. Memories from past events, what you liked or didn’t like. What he paid too much for that nobody noticed, along with a hearty laugh, and moments he loved, such as having a group photo at every one of his events. You asked him if he enjoyed planning the events themselves. He confessed with a roughish smile that he had a planner for all those details. You thought it strange to spend so much money on such occasions, but there was something pure about it too. Besides, you ended up getting your answer.

“What’s the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?” Taehyung abruptly asked, sitting up in alarm.

You blinked at his suddenness. “Uh… I don’t know. I would have to think about it.” Your lips upturned slightly, then you tilted your head and looked back at him. “What about you? What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned in your life so far?”

He relaxed back in his chair. His expression became pensive. You paused in mid-bite, seeing him look a bit sheepish.

“You’re not the first person to ask me about the parties,” Taehyung chuckled deep from his chest. “A lot of people tell me it’s a waste of money. And it is to other people, but it isn’t to me. The most important lesson I’ve ever learned was…”

He raised his head with a small smile.

“You can’t get time back.”

You remembered the extensive decor, the delicate hors d'oeuvres, even the various perfumes sprayed into the air complimenting the theme of each party. Exquisite and memorable details. Taehyung ticked his head, seemingly recalling it all too.

“I think I’ve mentioned this, but my grandmother was the closest maternal figure I had,” he explained, fondly smiling. “I��m close to my parents too, but they had to work a lot to give me a good life, so I spent a lot of time with my siblings and grandparents. My grandmother used to hold celebrations for the achievements I had, even if they were mediocre or not that impressive. Nothing extravagant, or anything. A little cake or my favorite sweets. She would sing for me and clap her hands. She would say, it’s my duty to give you good memories. As I got older, I became busy, of course, chasing dreams, and I didn’t make time for her small celebrations any more. I was just out of university when she passed away. I often think I hadn’t spent enough time with her. Time is money, as they say. Next time, I would say, until there wasn’t a next time.”

The weight of his words settled on the table.

“It’s not your fault,” you reminded him, but Taehyung simply smiled and shook his head.

“It wasn’t anybody’s fault,” he agreed. “But that wasn’t it. I couldn’t get all that time back. Sure, did I take jobs that put me in a really good place now? Yeah. Yeah, of course, I make a lot of money now since young me jumped at every chance to model for a small brand or do a single-run commercial. I really love my career. I love that, because I did the hard work, I even get offers to act in primetime dramas now. But I should have made less. I should have made time. I should have gone to see her and let her do her duty to give me good memories.”

He waved his hands in a slight shrug. You could tell he was still regretful about it, but there was something else too. He looked directly at you with that boxy grin of his.

“I decided, then, that I too wanted to give good memories to the people that are precious to me. I have all this money, anyway. Why waste it on things? I want to waste it on memories. I want people to look forward to special days, to celebrate life, to look back on a fun time.”

So that was why.

“That is what is really important to me.”

Kim Taehyung wasn’t only good looks, of course.

“I’ve yapped long enough. What is really important to you?” he asked again, chuckling.

“Oh, I…”

And there were no words.

You straightened, startled by your own silence. There were lots of important things, weren’t there? There was… and there wasn’t. Friends, sure. And, also, friends came in and out of your life. You didn’t take it personally. Family, yes. Cordial but not deep. They had their own lives to live. You almost opened your mouth to say these generic things, and then you caught the look in Taehyung’s eye and stopped.

This basic question was not so basic after all.

“I… Am I boring?” you blurted with a start.

“Boring?” Taehyung frowned. “No, you’re not.”

Your brows furrowed. “Aren’t I?”

He laughed, hearty and deep. “Trust me. You’re not boring. We wouldn’t be having a conversation if you were boring.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why are we having a conversation?”

Taehyung smiled warmly.

“Because I appreciate your outlook on life.”

You were taken aback.

“What?”

He nodded. “Isn’t it obvious?” He waved a hand carelessly. “I’ve met so many people doing what I do. Some people are just nice to you because of money. Or think you can boost their reputation. Or they think they can take advantage of you. You’ve been around all that too, no?” He did not mention Jungkook.

“Oh, well…” you hesitated. “Not anymore. I’m pretty ordinary.”

A small frown. “No, everyone is extraordinary.”

You scoffed. “I’m only an accountant. Not even one that works closely with my own clients – I’m just the one at the firm that does the final review over everyone’s work to make sure we don’t get into legal trouble. That’s nothing like what you do.”

He impatiently swept your words away. “Everyone is extraordinary,” he repeated.

“I don’t think–”

“You are different,” Taehyung pressed. “You had been introduced to a different world than your own and you could have been a vulture. You could have taken for your own sake. You could have done everything you could to be ‘one of us’. You could have scorned us too, called it all superficial and stupid. But you didn’t.” He crossed his arms to make his point. “You observed. You listened. You treated me, the people around me, everyone as their own person. We weren’t just some dumb rich people to you. We were individuals.”

You didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t something you had ever consciously thought about before.

“There are so many people that believe in using others, either in a beneficial way or in a cruel way,” sighed Taehyung. “It’s a difficult world. We all need to live.” He reached over and made you jump by placing his hand over the back of yours. “Don’t give up on that, okay?”

Your stared at him with wide eyes. “On… what?”

Almost. You didn’t quite have an answer for the most important lesson in your life you had learned so far. But almost. Kim Taehyung cocooned his palm over your hand and trapped you with his determined brown eyes, straight from a drama scene. A heavenly prince in a fancy café. He looked back to you very seriously, taking all of your attention away from the whispering conversations on other tables, away from the clinking plates and glasses, away from all distractions.

“Don’t give up on the way you want to live.”

Those small moments.

From eating dinner alone to watching movies alone to buying that album and unboxing it yourself to looking outside, days and nights, wondering what could have been and killing that thought over and over again.

“The way… I want to live?” you echoed breathlessly.

The clear, musical chime of the bell by the entrance sang through the air, mingling with the conversation and consumption. A halo of sound that rang true over every table to reach every customer. It was as striking as it was lovely, flawlessly melding into the moment. A pure sound that could trigger a pleasant déjà vu, the recall of a good chat over good food.

Taehyung grinned with his beautiful, perfectly white teeth.

“I want you to have good memories. Whatever you decide, let us make good memories with those precious to us.”

You decided, then and there, that you needed to start doing things.

“Oh, good, you’re home. That would have been awfully embarrassing.”

“W-What…?”

You backed up in your slippers as a stunningly well-dressed man flourished into your home like an astronaut landing on the moon. That was, if the moon was your front door. The black mat was space-themed, printed with abstract stars and a grayish circle. It wasn’t entirely inaccurate. Your pajamas were also soft black cotton with a twinkly star print, although your slippers were simple, white furry poofs that felt like walking on clouds.

“Take this.”

“What is – oof!”

In contrast to your outfit, the man who had entered your home looked like he had stepped off the runway. He wore light blue trousers that you almost mistook for jeans, however they had a tone-on-tone print that clearly indicated the luxury designer. Underneath the navy-blue duster coat was a crisp white shirt pressed to the gods with distinctive sky-blue trim. A quick glimpse and anyone would know the inner lining of the duster was blue silk, the matching tone-on-tone print subtle and obvious at the same time. You nearly buckled under the weight of a wooden box, gasping as you saw the slices of high-grade beef in a gold bow. The man gestured with his hand in a swooping manner.

“I heard all about it from Taehyung,” he was saying, shrugging his broad shoulders heavily.

“Heard…?” You were still reeling from the unexpected guest and a box of meat. “What’s this, I can’t accept th–”

The man shot you a scathing look. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he chided, dismissive. “How unbelievably rude I would be dropping by your home if I didn’t have a gift? Psh, why, I wouldn’t be Kim Seokjin!”

And so he was.

Although, as far as you knew, you and famous-actor-turned-businessman Kim Seokjin were not close friends. Not close enough to be gifted with a house call and meat, anyway. He had been close to Jeon Jungkook back then. They often sought each other out when they both attended the same events. You were well aquatinted with Seokjin’s boisterous personality and his worldwide-known handsomeness. He was no different today, looking sculpted from jawline to broad shoulders to the regal way he stood. Glowing skin. Lightly permed, chestnut brown hair. Full lips, currently in a slight frown.

You bowed awkwardly. “S-Sorry, I just didn’t expect…”

“Ah, it’s alright.” He called you by name, although somewhat awkwardly, as if he was unsure if he should be more formal or not. “I won’t take too much of your time.”

You were still confused about Seokjin saying he had heard something from Taehyung. Actually, you didn’t even know how he got your address, although it wasn’t impossible. After all, Taehyung’s party invitations came in snail mail. It wasn’t that shocking. You probably might have been more annoyed if you were in the middle of something, but all you had been doing was getting ready to heat up some leftover takeout. You shuffled slightly, trying to block the view of the kitchen counter. Not necessarily embarrassed, per se, as your apartment was quite spacious and neat, but nothing here was comparable to Kim Seokjin’s lifestyle. It was kind of pointless to do so, though, since Seokjin was quite tall.

He seemed not to notice or care about the current state of your kitchen.

You stood there, dazed, clutching a box of high-grade beef.

He cleared his throat very firmly. “I came to invite you to the opening of my new establishment. Two weeks from now.” He rattled off the opening date. “But don’t come on opening day. It’ll be too crowded. Some day after. Let me know when and I’ll make special arrangements for you,” he added, stepping forward to tuck his business card into one of the folds of the gold bow. “Call the number on there. My assistant will connect me to you. I can link you with talented professionals if you are interested, which I’ll pay for, of course.”

“I– What – I’m sorry?” you sputtered. “Me?”

The handsome man exaggeratedly whipped his head from side to side. “Uh, do I see anyone else? Yes, of course, you,” he affirmed gruffly. “I came to invite you in person.”

“Well…” This must be how deer felt when confronted with headlights. “I’m not trying to be rude, but, uh… why?”

Seokjin looked offended. “Why? So you can meet people, silly.”

You struggled to connect the information given to you but he was not making it easy. “Meet people?”

“Yes,” he tutted. “You want to meet people, don’t you?”

Did you? You gave him a confused look.

“As Taehyung said,” Seokjin continued as if you completely understood. “People like you need to be surrounded by good people. And I happen to know a lot of them. We need people like you in this industry.”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t have any intention of–”

“Precisely.” He barreled on as if your front entryway was his own stage. “That is precisely why.”

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

“H… Hah?”

Something in his expression softened. You almost forgot the weight of the wood box in your hands. You almost forgot the ridiculousness of you in your pajamas and Kim Seokjin in his luxury designer clothes. You almost forgot that you were in a completely different class, completely out of your element, completely ordinary.

He sighed and slipped his hands into his pants pockets, neatly tucking back his coat. “Look, I understand if you absolutely don’t want to have anything to do with me and the others. I don’t blame you. But,” he added, nodding lightly. “Your presence is missed. I do believe your interactions with those around you have done them a world of good. Maybe not everyone, yes, but you’re still spoken of, even now.”

“What…?” You blinked, doubtful. “Really?”

Seokjin chuckled, nodding. “You are good company.”

You thought all those times. All those events, dinners, parties. You mostly remembered Jungkook letting you be. Sure, you had light conversation with those around you. You couldn’t remember all their faces. They had been simple conversations, you thought, but they weren’t superficial once you really thought about it. You didn’t have basic industry chatter to talk about, so instead you had asked about aspirations. Asked why instead of what. Why acting? Why modeling? Why entertainment? Talks of the past, the present, the future. Pretty normal, you thought, but maybe…

Maybe it was more normal to ask what they were achieving.

Maybe it wasn’t so normal to ask who someone was.

“Anyway,” Seokjin coughed, breaking you out of your daze. “I wanted to give you ample time to think about it.”

“More than two weeks?” you mused.

He waved a hand. “Don’t know about you, but I need time to schedule and plan things. I need time to get myself ready to interact,” he muttered, half-joking and half-bitterly.

The meat was getting heavy. “Ah… What’s the dress code?”

“Aish, didn’t I tell you?” Seokjin tapped the side of his head. “Think about it. Then give me a call, and I’ll arrange for hair and makeup and fashion. No, don’t even bother asking about price. I’m inviting you to introduce you to people, so I am paying. End of discussion. And…”

A loaded pause.

Tick of the head and Seokjin very seriously asked you.

“If Jeon Jungkook is there, will you be fine?”

You answered honestly.

“I don’t think it will be an issue.”

He surveyed you for a long second and then nodded.

“Alright. Let me know when you’ve decided. Have a nice night. Don’t hesitate to contact me if I can help in some way. I’m not a stranger. By the way.” He added one last comment before leaving, spinning back around with a hand on your now open door and the other pointing to the side of the box. “The butcher shop I purchased this from is owned by a friend of mine. Make sure to send your family and friends his way once you taste how delicious and high-quality it is.”

You walked into the nightclub, oddly at peace among the blaring music and bustling bodies, stepping into a world of light and dark and pushing boundaries.

The past couple hours had been spent in a chair, fussed over by a detailed makeup artist and equally talented hairdresser. It had been more enjoyable than you originally thought. Perhaps it had been Seokjin’s excellent choices or their own expertise. They even both asked for your input and offered their advice. It felt like a joint effort. Even the fashion stylist who came later was as informative as they were considerate. You had found out that they had taken your name and your photos to have your fortune read and performed color analysis, respectively. That explained why Seokjin had asked you to take those plain photos. This had made color and style selection much simpler, as you naturally liked all the choices. You were no stranger to tight outfits, although this type of nightlife was not the kind of place you frequented. The stylist had brought a rack of choices, and just in case, a black slip dress looks good on everyone, and all of them were compelling in one way or another. All nightclub appropriate. You asked what to try first. The stylist had asked you how you were feeling.

Feeling?

The answer came out before you could stop it.

“Like revenge.”

You had laughed it off, and so had the staff, but you had seen the gleam in their eyes as if they, too, relished in being part of this so-called revenge.

Well, they were.

You weren’t perfectly sure if this was actual revenge yet, no. You were certainly dressed for it. Black lace corset. Tight lilac short skirt. Black patent leather jacket cropped so severely that it was nearly a bolero. Delicate black pumps with a thin ankle strap. The kind that was a bit fiddly to get on, but was worth it in the end. There was a power in this type of outfit, the kind that made you hold your head high and walk alone with confidence. Perhaps similar to a superhero costume. Just as impractical, too, heh. But that was okay. You weren’t here to prevent any crimes.

Just commit them.

Maybe.

In any case, you weren’t even sure what was going to happen tonight. Something had been planned for you, so you walked in and looked around, wondering if you should ask for help. The luxury was obvious from every corner of the building. From the furniture choices to the expansive bar to the crisp, pressed uniforms of the employees, every detail oozed sophistication. You admired the tastefulness of it, surprised that it didn’t feel gaudy or overdone. Must be the refined touch of Kim Seokjin. Even the clientele was jaw-dropping. You spared a moment to look from face to face, wondering if you should be less obvious about it, but then some paused and gazed back, unafraid, offering a simple smile.

They didn’t know you didn’t really belong, yet.

The sheep’s clothing worked, then.

You almost laughed at your own unspoken joke, and then, either compelled by fate, chance, or some mixture of both, your eyes rose and you saw him. It was definitely him. It was only the back of his head and black leather, but you knew it was him even before he turned around.

Jeon Jungkook.

You had seen him many times after the fact. However, this time was the first time that you came with weapons at your disposal, subtle as they were. For a moment, you wondered what to do. You stared as those brooding dark eyes widened in surprise. His hair was slicked back. Leather jacket, white tank, dark jeans, probably black boots. You couldn’t see it all from this angle. Still, you knew him too well. He wasn’t a suit-and-tie breed unless he was forced by the occasion. And, anyway.

You had mildly hoped that he would dress down these days, as it both suited him and reflected your preferred personal taste.

Egotistical, yes, and, now that you could see, true.

You broke the gaze first, seeing a waiter approach you. Bowed lightly, walking with him as he explained what was in store tonight, and yet your mind was still fixated on that shocked gaze from the far table up above. It did register that you were going up the stairs too, but somehow you knew that you weren’t going near that table.

You wondered if he regretted everything.

You wondered if he saw you differently now, dressed up and on a mission.

You wondered if Jeon Jungkook understood, truly, how deeply he had hurt you with his misdemeanors and you wondered if you, truly, understood how you didn’t help by always sweeping said misdemeanors under the metaphorical rug. You wondered if there was a chance for reconciliation or if this was all a big mistake. Maybe this was only another instance of two ships silently passing in the night. A pair of parallel lines that would never intersect. Or… would this become a pattern that could only be completed by intersection?

Whichever one it was, it was going to be evident tonight.

You raised your head, seeing a champagne bottle and another of expensive liquor.

“Are you ready?”

Your eyes shifted and you smiled up at the waitress.

“Yes, I am.”

She smiled and bowed her way out. Revenge. You savored the word. You had never thought of it that way, but then again that was because you always believed in the higher road. In enduring. That was how strength was formed. Vindication was unladylike and uncouth. Or so the story goes. You became aware that you were being watched.

I don’t belong here.

You twisted your body and stared directly into Jeon Jungkook’s eyes.

He pivoted away immediately. Unable to hold your gaze. Ashamed, probably. You pondered quietly. He brought you into this. All this around you – beauty, opulence, and the shadows between gold. Even without him, your connection to these people remained because his friends believed in you for some reason. You agreed, because maybe there was still something here for you.

But that was no reason to believe that you belonged here nor to act like it.

You realized, suddenly, that some part of you still thought you had to keep up the front.

“Excuse me.”

You looked up to a man who had the expression of a pleased kitty cat. His eyes disappeared from his smile. Radiant, cream skin. Long, bleached-blond hair that was half-tied back from his face but still skimmed along his shoulders. He wore a suit and tie, perfectly tailored, and was noticeably shorter than nearly everyone here. Then again, almost everyone here was a model, in high heels, or both.

“Did I interrupt?” he asked lightly, his intonation hinting at a Busan dialect.

“Oh, no,” you answered with a shake of your head. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me to space out like that. Please, sit down.”

The man laughed behind his hand before pulling out the chair and sitting down. He had elegant fingers that reminded you of a pianist. “It was cute,” he commented, somewhat shyly, before turning away and clearing his throat. He faced you once again, composed now, and bowed in greeting, stating his name.

You hurriedly did the same.

“I hope I’m not thinking too highly of myself by sitting here with you.”

You shook your head. “No, no. I want this to be an open invitation.” You poured him a glass of liquor to start off the night. He had a noticeable presence. Not a towering one, rather, as someone who knew himself well. Still, you could sense an introverted soul. “Don’t feel too pressured. I only want to ask a question.”

His eyebrows raised, curious. “A question?”

You smiled. “Yes. And I want you to promise to answer honestly.”

His lips upturned thoughtfully. There was something playful about his expressions. Very cute. Perhaps unintentional. “A promise right away to a stranger?”

You allowed yourself a little mischief. “Do I look like I could hurt anyone?”

The man across the table caught the bait and toyed with it. An expert. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean It wouldn’t be pleasant.” He smiled again, with that same kitty cat contentment, and nodded. “Okay, I’m ready to tell the truth. You only get one chance. Use it well.” His tone teased, but his voice was sincere.

The question.

You stared into a stranger’s eyes and asked.

“What is the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?”

i hear... | ... the whispers... | ... in your eyes.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut

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adrienneleclerc · 3 months ago

Text

Celebrity Crush

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Latina! Reader

Summary: Charles decided to buy concert tickets to The Driver Era since his girlfriend loves them. However, this will be the first time Charles witnesses how much Y/N LOVES Ross Lynch.

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: this fanfic will mainly serve as a way to get back into the flow of writing so I hope y’all like it. This is inspired by the way I get so feral and unhinged whenever a Ross Lynch concert edit shows up on my fyp

Charles was on his laptop, sitting at the table in their hotel room while Y/N FaceTimed with her parents on the bed.

“Sí mami, ya tengo todos los regalos para mis primos….Cuando vas a (your mom’s country)?…Así que cuando charles y yo estamos en Nueva York, te doy los regalos, y luego vas planeando como empacar los regalos en la maletas…” Y/N told her mom.

Her and Charles were planning to go to New York before the Texas Grand Prix, their flight is next week. Luckily, Y/N’s favorite band, the Driver Era, just so happens to have a concert October 10, during the time they are in New York. So Charles being the wonderful boyfriend he is, is buying tickets. Luckily, there were still tickets available and they weren’t expensive at all. It wouldn’t even matter if they were expensive, he still would have bought them. Y/N hung up the phone as Charles looks up from his laptop.

“What did your mom want, Mon coeur?” Charles asked. Y/N pulled up a chair to sit next to Charles at the table.

“She wanted to know if I bought the gifts for my cousins. I swear, every time I travel with you for your races, she asks me to buy stuff for her side of the family. My dad…not so much since I dont talk to much to my cousins on his side. Are we going to fly straight to New York?” Y/N asked.

“Actually, love, the jet is already scheduled to take us to Monaco, I hope that’s okay.” Charles said.

“It’s okay, that’s good, actually, that way I can pack better outfits.” Y/N said, before kissing Charles. “The flight is tomorrow morning?”

“In the afternoon since it was a night race.” Charles said.

“Cool, I’ll brush my teeth then we can go to sleep. Or do you need to shower?” Y/N asked.

“I was thinking we could shower together.” Charles said with a little smirk. Y/N just nodded her head, giggling lightly.

“I mean it does save water.” Y/N said. Charles got up first, grabbing Y/N’s hand to lead her in the shower.

After their shower, Y/N blow dried Charles’s hair for him before she started her hair routine, also blow drying it because there’s no way in hell she is sleeping with wet hair. The next day, they ate, got dressed, and were ready to go to the airport.

As usual, Y/N slept on the flight to Nice, and with their New York flight being at night, they had time to get eat and finish packing their bags with extra clothes they needed for the trip. On their flight is where Charles thought it was time to break the news.

“Mon coeur, what do you plan on doing during our New York visit?” Charles asked. Y/N started wondering.

“I Don’t know, honestly. I just thought of visiting my mom before she goes visit my grandma, so I haven’t really thought of anything. We could go apple picking upstate, why do you ask?” Y/N asked.

“No reason, just wanted to make sure you’re free October 10th.” Charles said.

“What’s special about October 10th?” Y/N asked.

“Nothing really, just that I got 2 tickets to the driver era concert.” Charles and Y/N turned to face Charles.

“You’re kidding.” Y/N and Charles shook his head. “Ah! No way, I’m gonna see if my friend can come.”

“I thought we were going to go together.” Charles said and Y/N looks hesitant. “Why don’t you wanna go with me? I promise I won’t dance.”

“It’s not that it’s just…are you sure you want to go? It’s not your scene.” Y/N said.

“We’re going.” Charles said.

“Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Y/N said.

It’s not that she doesn’t want to spend time with him, but the concerts end with Ross Lynch being shirtless and all the fangirls losing their minds. So when the concert rolls around, they’re waiting on line and there were two girls talking in front of them.

“I also excited, do you think he will wear a tank top and rip it off like last time or do you think he’ll be wearing a button down?” Girl 1 asked

“Who cares, he’s gonna end up shirtless anyway. But I love Rocky, he’s such a vibe.” Girl 2 said.

“Who’s going to end up shirtless, Mon coeur?” Charles asked.

“Oh you’ll see soon enough, muñeco.” Y/N said, patting his back.

The venue doors are open and everyone started walking in, Y/N went to the merch table, holding Charles’s hand so he doesn’t get lost in the crowd because it is a small venue, she decided on buying the t-shirt that said “Ross’s Girlfriend” (which I really wanted but I couldn’t get) and Charles decided on a shirt that had the band name in the front and tour dates in the back. Charles paid for the merch and they got to the floor after Y/N put new shirt on over her outfit.

“You really like Ross, huh?” Charles asked.

“You have no idea. He’s been my celebrity crush since he was on disney channel.” Y/N explained, Charles just nodded. “Thank you for buying the tickets, muñeco, really.” Y/N kissed Charles and pulled away as soon as she heard the introduction of the band.

When “Natural” started playing, Ross took off his shirt, Y/N was staring at him, completely mesmerized by the way Ross moved and interacted with his brother, Rocky. Charles recorded Ross and Rocky singing and then panned to Y/N’s reaction. Charles was liking the music but he believed Y/N sung “when you need a man” a little too loudly. Overall, they enjoyed the concert, Y/N more than Charles obviously, they were walking to the car and once they got in, Y/N asked.

“Did you have fun?” Charles looks at Y/N.

“Of course I do, Mon coeur, watching you enjoy your favorite band perform makes me so happy. I’m glad I got to do this with you.” Charles said, kissing her. “I just didn’t know you were so in love with the blonde guy.”

“I’m sorry, muñeco, but he’s 6’1, Can sing, dance, and there’s the nostalgia factor. You know I’m your number one fan.” Y/N said, making reference to one of their songs.

“And im yours.” Charles replied.

“Hey, do you think we can hit a drive thru or something, I’m hungry.” Y/N asked.

“Sure thing. Are there any other celebrity crushes I should be aware of?” Charles asked,

“Musician wise? No. Actor wise? There’s Jensen Ackles and Dylan O’Brien, that’s it.” Y/N said.

“Interesting. There’s no way to meet them, right?” Charles asked.

“Unless you are willing to drop about 2 grand on a Supernatural convention in Jersey. Why Jersey?” Y/N asked.

“It’s not that much money.” Charles said.

“Muñeco, that’s awfully sweet of you but this show ended in 2020 and they are still holding conventions for it. Plus I checked before, the Jensen Ackles photo ops are already sold out.” Y/N pouted,

“Maybe next time, Mon ange.” Charles said.

“You would really spend money so I could meet my celebrity crushes?” Y/N asked.

“If it makes you happy, I would bring you the moon.” Charles said,

“I love you.” Y/N said.

“I love you too. Now let’s go get you some chicken nuggets and fries.” Charles said.

“And a milkshake.” Y/N said.

“And a milkshake.” Charles replied before driving off to the nearest fast food drive thru.

The End

Was it stupid? Yes, but did I like writing it? Also yes. Hope y’all liked it!

I love this man, sorry not sorry, had to include him

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff

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lvndosnorris · 8 months ago

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the winner takes it all • l. norris smut

paring: female reader x lando norris

authors note: my first ever piece?! i mean, the special occasion definitely helped kickstart my little writing era so hopefully this is somewhat enjoyable? i loved writing it so who knows, maybe they'll be more!

warnings: entirely fictional, f! oral receiving, fingering, edging if you squint, f! forced orgasm

lando was certainly giddy off the champagne; the bubbles making every odd sentence fall out his mouth with a hiccup, lips parted and speckled with fizz as he dwelled in the celebrations. if it wasn't for everyone's attention being on him he wouldn't have thought twice about whisking you away, desperate to be close to the only person he wanted to thank in this moment — but how would he explain his sudden disappearance?

you'd made the effort to giggle with everyone, stealing partial glances of your boyfriend every now and then. there was a part of you that was adamant you were being subtle: yet the knowing elbow to your ribs as you lost where you were in your ramblings, eyelids heavy as you peered intently at lando as he tilted his head back, tongue protruding as he lapped at the champagne that was being poured from above his head.

it was the same image that was replaying in your mind as you clambered into the back of the taxi, your palms splayed on his upper thigh as you adjusted yourself beneath the seatbelt. the air was thick, stuffy even, as you felt your chest tighten under the thin material of your dress — there was a tension that was evident, lando's thumb curling around your pinky finger as he tugged your hand towards his mouth, lips ghosting a soft kiss to your knuckles.

"you look so good tonight... that little skimpy number doing a thing or two to me..." you weren't sure if it was the bubbles taking over or if he was speaking his mind. eyes afire, blazed, as you unintentionally clamped your thighs just that little tighter together. the fact that the taxi driver could probably hear lando's confessions, crude and direct as he mumbled how all he could think about was you — even during his winner's speech that he was egged on to do, a mic thrust in his hand as he caught your eye from across the packed room.

his lips were on your neck the minute your apartment door was closed and the taxi was merrily on his way to the next customer: teeth nipping at your throat as you struggled to push him away from you, dizzy from the way your stomach lurched with desire. it was stupid really — you'd seen each other the morning of, hungrily wishing him all the luck in the world and proceeding to roll your eyes dramatically when he reminded you that he was already the luckiest.

"you've been teasing me all night," you tried to be stern, your scold coming across more as a whimper though as his fingers trailed down over your hips. the crown of your head settled on your front door as you tilted yourself backwards, trusting your boyfriend completely as your urges finally took over, "you'll be the one apologising this time if the neighbours come knocking."

your joke fell on deaf ears as lando's nails scratched gently over your exposed thighs, hiking the material of your dress further up until he got complete access to you. every time he saw you like this, all flustered and relentless, silence would fall upon him as he drank in his sight. the floor was harsh against his knees as he settled before you, slightly hazed pupils meeting yours as he flashed you that shit-eating grin that had gotten you wrapped around his little finger all those months ago.

should it have been you treating him? considering he was the winner, surely he deserved to be on the receiving end of pleasure tonight? the questions failed to come to fruition though, all thoughts incoherent as he parted your legs in a way that could only be described as hungrily.

it was your noises that made him edge closer to you, not even bothering to discard of your underwear as he nudged it to the side with the tip of his nose. there was a pause in his movements, your chest rising and falling erratically as you waited for him to do something, anything.

you had always been somewhat impatient when it came to lando — maybe it was the fact you knew how good it was going to be, or perhaps it was the burning ache that sat heavy in the pit of your stomach whenever he had worked you up to this certain point between normality and pure ecstasy. your fist knotted between his hair, tugging it a little harsher than usual as you gritted your teeth and inaudibly begged for him to give you something.

as a way to tell you he was listening he obliged; his pointer and middle finger scissored against you as he parted your cunt, tongue between his lips as he finally dragged a taste from you. lando had always been an eater, evident in the way his tongue moved against you now — circling your clit before stroking down to your hole. your wetness decorated his chin and around his mouth, glistening skin being all you could focus on as he pulled away for a few seconds to marvel at how your face was contorted in pleasure.

the intrusion of one of his fingers caught you off guard, one hand clutching his head as the other held onto the wall in a pathetic attempt to stay upright. the few chutes of champagne that you'd been sipping on all night accompanied the glee that surged through your veins, tingling every limb as you rolled your hips in a rhythm that oozed of desperation.

his name felt familiar and warm as it fell from your mouth, subconsciously ending it with mewls of fuck and right there as he dipped his finger in and out of your sopping cunt. each thrust was met with his lips wrapped delicately around your clit, starkly different to the way his finger curled inside of you, trying to rub against that sweet spot inside of you and send you into a downward spiral of pleasure.

as soon as his second finger found itself between your slick walls you felt the ball in your gut grow bigger, heavier as you could barely keep your eyes open. lando's tongue was messy against you, devouring you between muffled moans and whines. just as his fingers got harder and his tongue became wetter he stopped — everything still in the doorway to your apartment as you let out a half-strangled cry. there was no way that he could let you linger there, teetering on the edge of an orgasm as you curled your toes that still sat uncomfortably in your heels and knitted your eyebrows together in annoyance.

in that moment you felt the warmth fizzle from your body; your mind falling back into reality as you became conscious to the room around you once more. lando's grin was smug, cocky even, as he kissed your inner thigh. it was soft, a complete juxtaposition to the way he was eating you only seconds before.

"you can do it for me, can't you?" his question seemed distant from you, as if he was miles from where you were. there was an air of confusion, not able to conjure the words to ask what he meant before his hand cupped your cunt, fingers parting you. his fingertips grazed your hole once more, stroking between your clenching walls as you felt yourself turn to putty in his hands.

usually you'd need more than this; for him to strum you all over again, work you up to your orgasm once more. but this time he didn't — your boyfriends eyes trained on you, dampened lips parted as he watched the way you writhed against him. rocking your hips to meet his hand halfway, spine arched as you cursed him vehemently in between groans.

the noises that came from between your legs were nothing short of filthy; an indication that you were close to cumming whether you planned to or not. there was nothing that you could hold onto that would have kept you earthed, his scalp sore as you tugged cruelly, wrapping his locks around your fingers to try and control your orgasm. it took one, two, possibly three, more pumps of his fingers and his palm flush against your clit before you felt your body snap — heaven bubbling inside of you as you clenched. the sheer intensity of your orgasm had lando's head spinning, wrist trickling with your own juices as he studied how you shivered and sighed.

"lando, i—" your words failed. forehead slick with sweat as he skimmed his hands from your sensitive heat to the backs of your thighs, kneading your flesh in a attentive way. you wanted to thank him, to tell him that you loved him. but all that came out was a timid squeak as you tried to move, your shoulder blades sore from where they'd been pushed against your door.

he knelt back until he was sat on the floor, lets spread as he scooped up a small bead of your cum with the tip of his thumb. suckling it into his mouth he hummed, a deep, melodic noise, "seeing as i'm the winning boy do i get my reward now?"

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goldsainz · 2 years ago

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THE COOLEST DRIVER — one shot.

pairing: lando norris x reader

MASTERLIST.

summary: when you introduced lando to your siblings, you didn’t think they would become so attached.

request: “Lando × reader. Your younger siblings who are 2 and 3 are crazy about Lando. Lando is amazing with them they don't like when you to hug/ kiss him Though. "No he's mine!" Your sister says as she pushes you away. When you go for a kiss. "My Lando time" your brother says. Snuggling into Lando. You find it adorable but annoying. Fans love it.”

warnings: im pretty sure that none

NOTE: thank you for requesting!!!! so this is short and sweet, and i also added a little smau at the end 🫶 i’m in my lando obsessed era. so if you suddenly see a lot of lando content posted, just let it be. silverstone grand prix has me so so excited, can’t wait… also fingers crossed lewis gets podium🤞

[ word count: 737 ]

Lando and you had been going out for quite some time now. It was as serious as a relationship could get, and evidently, he had met your family.

It was no surprise when your siblings got obsessed with him and just about followed him everywhere. They wanted to go to every Grand Prix you went to, because if you could, why couldn't they? It took quite some time for them to understand that you were an adult, and as such could do what you pleased.

Your brother adored Lando. He tuned in for every race and Lando quickly became his idol, even though he would never really say it out loud. Suddenly, he wanted to be a driver too. Your boyfriend was more than happy to help him out with his dream, and since he was so little, he could have a shot at doing it for a long time.

Your sister however, seemed to like Lando in a completely different way. Whenever she saw Lando he would hug him while burying her face in his neck, hiding her smitten face. There was no way you could ever kiss or even be too close to Lando if she was present, not if you wanted to avoid the tantrum she would throw. Claiming Lando was hers, and that you were stealing him from her.

Lando loved your siblings. It was refreshing to have such support from little humans, who idolised him and always got excited to see him. So it was no surprise when for this year’s Silverstone Grand Prix, his home race, he invited your whole family to the paddock.

When you broke the news to your siblings they ran to hug Lando, their excitement almost pushing him off balance as he attempted to hold both of them at the same time. It was a sight to behold, and you wished you would've gotten it on camera because it was just too precious.

“Go pack your bags!” You told them, watching as they scrambled to their rooms.

“I can’t believe they are coming.” Lando says, one wrapped around your waist, pulling you in for a side hug.

“They can’t even believe it themselves.”

You watched your parents talk with Lando over the schedule, all while holding you in his arms. They both couldn’t stop expressing their gratitude, and your boyfriend just repeated that it was his pleasure and there was nothing he would love more than having all of you there.

His sweet words made your heart rush, and you turned to face him just for a quick peck since your parents were still around. You should have known what a bad idea that was, because all of a sudden your siblings appear in the room and they cannot hold in their disgust.

“Ew!” Your brother shouted, covering his face with his little hands.

Your sister ran to push you off of Lando, not liking the sudden closeness. Your mother rolled her eyes at the dramatics your siblings loved to display. Lando just brushed off your mother’s concern, more amused at the reaction than anything.

“Hey! We’re not going to Silverstone if you behave like that.” You tell them, you know you’re lying because there is no way you are not taking them. Not when you know how excited they are.

“No!” Your sister screeches, wrapping her arms around Lando’s leg as if to show how much she wants to go.

“Did you pack your bags?” Lando asks your sister, kneeling down to her level.

“Yes.” She says, her voice muffled now that she has thrown her arms around him.

“And your brother?”

“I think so.”

Your brother takes his hands off of his face the moment he hears he was mentioned. Moving to sit beside Lando, an annoyed look passes his face as he watches his sister.

“You excited to go to Silverstone?” Your boyfriend asks, knowing full well your brother is bursting at the seams of excitement.

“Very!”

“Is there anyone you’re excited to meet?”

“Lewis!”

“Lewis?” Lando asks, a smile creeping onto his face as he hears the emotion on your brother’s voice.

“He’s so cool!”

“Is he?”

“Yes!” A giggle pushes its way past your brother’s lips, suddenly bashful at the admission.

“Cooler than me?”

“No, silly.” He says with an obvious tone, face palming himself as if the answer was obvious, “You’re the coolest driver ever!”

“That’s what I like to hear!”

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oofthwoods · 11 months ago

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PROLOGUE! ── ˙ ̟ bring home the glory !!

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: how heavy is the weight of a legacy, and what would you do to protect it? to you, legacy means the formula one team bearing your family name. as a child, you eagerly tagged along with your mother to races, sharing laughs with the engineers and mechanics, and being lifted into the air in triumph after every win. yet as time passed, those moments became fewer and farther between, and before you knew it, the once-legendary team was now scraping by at the back of the pack. in your final visit with your grandfather before he passed away, you made a promise to him: you would drive for the team that he and your grandmother poured their blood, sweat, and tears into, and you would restore glory to the williams surname, whatever it takes.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: new series!! so excited for this one. tell my your thoughts, and if you want to be added to a taglist <3

masterlist next ‭→

MOTORSPORT ARTICLE: WILLIAMS' LINE-UP FINALLY REVEALED.

In a groundbreaking move for both motorsport and gender equality, Williams Racing has announced the signing of Y/N Williams as one of their drivers for the 2024 Formula One season. With this move, Williams becomes the first female driver to secure a seat in Formula One in more than forty-five years, marking a significant milestone in the sport's history.

The decision to bring Y/N Williams on board comes on the heels of her remarkable performance in the Formula 2 championship in 2023. In only her second year competing in the series, Y/N clinched the championship title, showcasing her exceptional talent and determination on the track. Her impressive season saw her clinch multiple victories and podium finishes, solidifying her status as one of the most promising young drivers in the sport.

For Williams Racing, the decision to sign Y/N Williams represents a bold step towards revitalizing the team's fortunes on the track. Following a challenging season in 2023, marred by inconsistent performances and disappointing results, the team is eager to usher in a new era of success with fresh talent at the helm.

The announcement of Y/N Williams as a Williams Racing driver also comes with a reshuffling of the team's lineup. In an expected move, Logan Sargeant, who had been part of the team since the previous season, will step down from his role as a full-time driver. However, Sargeant will remain with the team in a new capacity, serving as a reserve and simulator driver, lending his experience and expertise to support the team's development efforts.

The news has sparked a flurry of reactions from fans and pundits alike. While many have hailed it as a historic moment for gender equality in motorsport, others have expressed skepticism, questioning whether swapping one rookie for another will indeed bring about the transformative change the team needs.

Some voices within the Formula One community have raised concerns about the pressure and scrutiny she may face as the first female driver in the sport in several years. Yet, amidst the debates and uncertainties, there remains a palpable sense of excitement and anticipation surrounding her debut season.

As the countdown to the 2024 Formula One season begins, all eyes will be on Y/N Williams as she prepares to make her mark on the world's most prestigious racing stage.

y/nwilliams

liked by clairewilliams_official, alex_albon, and 257,174 others

y/nwilliams a williams in williams. is there anything more perfect than that?

view all 9,245 comments

williamsracing we don't think so, y/n! welcome aboard.

y/nwilliams thank uuu 🥺

user1 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

user2 the first woman with a seat in more than 40 years in the team that was basically created by a woman? this one is for the history books ladies and gents

-> liked by y/nwilliams

francolapinto congrats! excited to see you in f1.

-> liked by y/nwilliams

user3 watch as she crashes more than sargeant 🤣🤣

usern4 her surname is williams? as in the williams?

user5 yep. daughter of claire williams, granddaughter of frank and ginny williams. user6 so she's lance stroll but with panties.

user7 is she actually good? williams can't keep hiring random rookies and expecting great results...

user8 she won f2 with carlin in her second year, so i'd assume she is great

alex_albon welcome to the family!

user10 i didn't think i'd live long enough to see a woman competing in f1

©️ oofthwoods — 2024.

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cheriladycl01 · 3 months ago

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My love, is mine all mine - Max Verstappen x Norris! Reader x Charles Leclerc Part 7

Plot: Norris' Twin sister is also a driver in the 2021 line up and is in her rookie era. Not only do the commentators struggle to now talk about the pair in the race, but they also struggle to talk about talent. What happens when two drivers find her eye-catching.

A/N: I've brought Luisia into things because of the timeline and it being 2021. Don't hate on her, or the fact that i've brought her into my writing please!

The British Grand Prix was anything but boring. Max ended up DNFing, Lewis having another home race win and you riding your brothers bumper the whole time while defending him from Carlos.

“Please let me overtake, I can catch Bottas if you let me” you’d asked through the radio. You’re tyres were better managed than your brothers and you were clearly the quicker driver right now.

“Hold position” is all you heard and an irritated sigh comes out of your mouth.

“You’re defending from Carlos Y/N we want to come out of this with the most points as possible” he admits and you want to smack your wheel but you remain concentrated until the end of the race.

You get out the car once you’ve done the last lap, congratulating Lewis before being weighed and going straight into the garage.

You expressed your frustrations to your race engineer who remained understanding but explained that it was best for the teams result.

“Hey, thanks for … listening to the team” Lando awkwardly come over and you nod at him before walking off to the media pen. You get ushered over by your PR manager to Crofty whose conducting interviews.

“Y/N, Y/N interesting race no?” He asks and you nod before taking a drink and sighing.

“Yeah, seeing the rear win of my brothers car was perfect” you joke sarcastically making him laugh and your PR manager shake her head at you.

“Mmmm and team orders didn’t seem to let you overtake, is that proof there is a Norris 1 and Norris 2 in that team?” He asks and you cock your head to the side.

“I think it’s hard obviously Lando’s been in the team for 2 seasons now already, halfway through his third and it’s my rookie season. So I think naturally there is some … underlying loyalty that McLaren hold to Lando as they are basically building the team around him. Which at times like today can be extremely frustrating for me, but it’s one of those situations where you just move on and look forward to the next race” you admit and he nods.

A few questions later and your walking into the hospitality to find Luisa and Nathan talking.

“Hey guys” you smile tiredly and Luisa comes up and pulls you into a soft hug.

“Well done today! You drove amazing!” She grins and you smile back at her.

“I gotta agree, you do drive really well” Nathan adds to the conversation.

Soon enough Lando comes strolling in, still in his race suit the same as you with it hanging off his hips.

“Hey baby” he says pulling his girlfriend into a kiss. He sighs leaning into her touch, and as you watch there’s a little green monster of jealously on your back.

It was kind of upsetting how Lando was happy with a girl and had someone to come to the races with him and support him and make him feel better after bad races, when he told you all you were doing was playing with his friends hearts.

You quietly exited the room, going to take shower and get the day of driving washed off your body. On your way you stop for some conversations with a few of the McLaren workers who were packing up the motor home.

While in the shower your mind couldn’t help but wonder to Charles and Max.

You’d had a good conversation with Charles, and maybe just maybe it was time to see if whatever it was that you’d found once again in Monaco could lead to something more.

And Max, well … you didn’t even really know what was going on with him and your best friend. Ex best friend.

She’d unfollowed you very quickly the night that you all seemed to be at the club and Max has come up to you and you’d very quickly dismissed him. It seemed as though they were … something because they were now following each other and twitter stans and the Instagram investigators were putting two and two together now.

deuxmoi

Liked by y/bff and others

Max Verstappen spotted with McLaren racing driver Y/N Norris’ childhood bestie, in a restaurant in Monaco.

Sources say that they seemed very close and it was quite an intimate dinner.

Now it seems that y/bff/n has unfollowed Y/N on all socials while Y/N remains following her with photos still up of the two of them from years ago, so what happened we wonder?

View all comments

user1: Source: Trust me Bro

user2: omg what if Y/N was jealous Y/NStappen RISE

user3: if y/n still follows her surely her friend that has the issue with her right?

y/user

Liked by luishinaoliveria and others

y/user: Been working on my self care lately because even when no-one cares, you should 💕

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Instagram Story Caption:

Loving Taylor lately 😈

It was time you bit back, you wanted to tell fans what actually happened. But it seemed childish and pretty to instead you sent them clues via Instagram and Twitter.

You were becoming a bit of a PR nightmare with lots of rumours surrounding you.

There was a decent break between Britain and Hungary. You spent a lot of time working on yourself and getting your body in peak condition for the next few races. You went home and saw your parents when Lando wasn’t there and had a sleepover with Luisa when he was with Max and Carlos playing golf all weekend.

But while you were halfway through a bottle of rose with your brothers girlfriend a text that had you squinting to read dinged on your phone.

‘Can we talk? Please?’

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

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kathlare · 29 days ago

Text

papaya on top

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando celebrates a monumental victory, solidifying McLaren's historic season. Amidst the chaos of champagne sprays and cheering fans, a tender connection between Lando and Amelie shines, intertwining their triumphs and affections.

Wordcount: 1.4 k

Warnings: fluff, smau

request over here!

December 8th, 2024 - Yas Island, Abu Dhabi

liked by amelieupdates, f1gossip, and others

f1wagsdaily: Amelie Dayman spotted arriving at the paddock in Abu Dhabi for the final race of the season!

View all 4,483 comments

f1stan99: LANDO P1 AND AMELIE IN THE PADDOCK?!? The McLaren era is officially iconic 🔥 → ameslanlover: @f1stan99 no bc they’re the power duo we never deserved 🫶

mclarenszn: Nah, Amelie’s face during the anthem? She was lowkey holding back tears for him 🥹 → lanfan88: @mclarenszn I saw that too! That look said “I’m so proud of you” omg 😭 → ameliesupremacy: @lanfan88 and when he winked at her?? My soul left my body 🫠

mcloveforever: The photo of them soaked in champagne… I’m not ok. The chemistry is insane 😵‍💫

wagswag84: She’s so iconic, she could literally just stand there, and people would still scream. → oscarpls: @wagswag84 no bc that’s exactly what happened in the garage yesterday. She’s a literal magnet.

papayaqueen: NOT LANDO WINKING AT HER ON THE PODIUM 😭😭 He’s such a simp omg. → amelie_stan: @papayaqueen he literally has no chill when it comes to her, and I love it. 💅

itsgivinghater: Okay but why is she even there tho? 🙄

wagslove: She’s giving main character energy every time she steps out 🖤 → f1editsdaily: @wagslove THAT’S WHY SHE’S THE IT GIRL

f1fanatic22: Amelie showing up and looking like that? Girl, HOW is she so effortlessly iconic? 🔥 → mclarensupremacy: @f1fanatic22 bc she's Amelie Dayman, duh. Queen behavior only 👑

lando4worldchamp: This man just won the race AND the Constructors’ Championship, and he’s got her waiting for him? Lando is literally living a rom-com 😭

lilyandamelie4ever: Lily and Amelie in the garage together?? Name a more iconic duo, I’ll wait. → racingtwinzz: @lilyandamelie4ever their friendship feeds my soul ngl 🫶

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

The roar of the engines was drowned out by the deafening cheer from the McLaren garage as Lando Norris crossed the finish line in first place at the 2024 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. Amelie’s grip on Lily’s hand tightened, her heart hammering in her chest. The emotions were overwhelming, a cocktail of pride, excitement, and something deeper that made her chest swell as she watched Lando take the checkered flag, his McLaren a blur of orange ahead of the pack.

—Oh my god,— Amelie whispered, her voice barely audible over the celebration in the garage. Lily, standing next to her, was equally overwhelmed, but there was a quiet confidence in her that made Amelie smile. Lily leaned in closer, her eyes still fixed on the track.

—I’m going to go look for Oscar. He’ll be buzzing right now,— Lily said with a smile, squeezing Amelie’s hand before letting go and stepping towards the door.

Amelie nodded, though her eyes were still locked on the screen where Lando’s McLaren was doing its victory lap. She felt a tear escape as she watched him, the emotions finally breaking through the walls she’d built around them. He had done it. He had won. Not just the race, but the Constructors' Championship for McLaren, and finished second in the Drivers' Championship—a historic achievement that had eluded them for so long.

But it wasn’t just his victory that made her heart ache. It was the fact that she got to share it with him, after everything they’d been through since they first met at the 2019 Mexican Grand Prix. From the playful teasing and shared moments to their deep connection that had blossomed into something undeniable.

Tears blurred her vision, and she wiped them away quickly, blinking as the UK national anthem began to play in the distance. It was a moment she would never forget—watching him stand there, in the limelight, a beacon of success, pride, and joy.

Amelie’s eyes scanned the podium and when she saw him, Lando’s gaze shifted through the crowd, locking onto hers. His face broke into a grin, and he gave her a wink, followed by a teasing smile, as if they shared a private joke no one else could understand.

Her breath caught, her heart thudding in her chest as she leaned forward slightly, a small laugh escaping her lips. He had spotted her, and in that moment, the world felt like it was just the two of them.

The podium ceremony ended, and the crowd around her erupted with cheers. She didn’t even realize she was crying until she reached up and wiped away more tears. She needed to see him.

With a final look towards the podium, Amelie turned and made her way towards the McLaren team hub. She could feel the atmosphere buzzing with excitement as the team celebrated their victory. She made her way through the sea of people, her heart racing.

When she finally reached the driver's room, she was there alone for just a moment, pacing slightly, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. Then, the door opened, and there he was—Lando, fresh off the podium, looking like he had just stepped off a dream. His suit was unzipped, his hair slightly tousled, his face flushed with the exhilaration of victory.

—Ames,— he greeted her with a grin, and before she could even respond, he was pulling her into his arms.

She didn’t waste a second. Her arms wrapped around him as she pressed herself against him, breathing him in. —You did it, Lan! You were amazing,— she whispered into his chest.

Lando chuckled softly, a hand coming up to cup her cheek as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. —Couldn’t have done it without you, Ames,— he murmured, his lips brushing against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine.

Amelie looked up at him, her eyes full of admiration. —I’m so proud of you,— she said, before kissing him fiercely. The kiss started strong, full of pent-up emotion from the entire season. But as their lips met, the passion deepened, and it quickly became more urgent. Her hands found their way to his neck, and his own hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer.

Before either of them knew it, Amelie had climbed onto his lap, straddling him as their kisses became more frantic. She could feel the heat of his body, the lingering taste of champagne on his lips, and the way he made her feel like the only person in the world. His hands slid to her back, pulling her even closer, making her heart race faster.

—You taste like champagne,— she murmured against his neck, and Lando’s laugh was low and teasing.

—Yeah? You’re a little too good at that, Ames,— he teased, his voice a little breathless.

But before they could go any further, there was a knock on the door, and a voice from the outside interrupted them. —Lando, you’re supposed to be at the interviews now. You’re already late.—

Lando groaned, dramatically falling back against the chair. —Can’t a guy just enjoy his victory without being interrupted?— He muttered under his breath, clearly frustrated, but still managing to keep the grin on his face. He looked at Amelie, who was still perched on his lap, and for a second, neither of them moved.

—You’re lucky I love you,— he said with a wink, his voice low and playful.

Amelie rolled her eyes, but she didn’t mind the interruption as much as he did. —Go on, Lan. They’ll be waiting for you.—

With a heavy sigh, Lando pulled away, helping her off his lap. —I’ll make it up to you later,— he promised, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Amelie smiled as he stood up, adjusting his racing suit. —You better,— she said with a teasing grin.

As Lando left to do the post-race interviews, Amelie walked out of the driver's room and found Lily, who was waiting outside. —He’s gone for interviews,— Amelie said with a shrug, her smile wide.

Lily raised an eyebrow. —So, that was that,— she said with a smirk, clearly amused. —You two are a real piece of work.—

Amelie laughed. —Shut up,— she said playfully, but the blush creeping onto her cheeks betrayed her.

A McLaren staff member approached them, handing each of them a championship T-shirt and cap. They both chuckled as they put the oversized T-shirts over their dresses. —Looks a bit ridiculous, doesn’t it?— Amelie said, pulling at the fabric that hung loosely around her waist.

Lily laughed, giving her a quick hug. —It does—

They made their way back to the McLaren garage, where the team was getting ready for their final photo. They stayed behind the cameras, watching as the team gathered around, with Lando and Oscar finally joining them after the interviews. The energy was electric, everyone buzzing from the win, and when the team saw Amelie and Lily watching from the side, they began shouting for them to join in.

—Get in here, you two!— Lando yelled, his voice carrying over the excitement of the moment.

With a laugh, Amelie walked forward, awkwardly joining the group as Lando and Oscar made teasing faces. The team erupted into laughter, and Lando wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close for the photo. He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. —You look hot in my color, Ames,— he whispered, making her cheeks flush.

—And you’re not too bad yourself,— she teased back, her voice low and playful. The chemistry between them was undeniable, even with everyone around them celebrating.

The final champagne spray hit them both, and Amelie couldn’t help but laugh as the bubbly soaked her. Lando, ever the flirt, looked at her with that teasing smile she loved so much. The team, caught up in the celebration, sprayed even more champagne in the air, and Lando pulled her close again, stealing one more kiss before the night was over.

It had been an unforgettable season, and in that moment, everything felt perfect.

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imaginesig · 6 months ago

Text

“I had the best day with you today”

Based on: “I was enchanted to meet you”

Kimi Antonelli x Norris!Reader

SMAU

Could be read as a stand alone, very short

After dedicating Enchanted to their relationship, who would’ve thought Kimi and Y/n would get to see it live

yn_norris

Liked by carmenmmundt, user71, landonorris, and 917,828 others

yn_norris: “I cry a lot but I am so productive”

tagged: no one

Kimi.antonelli it’s genuinely concerning watching you stress over bracelets and a bodysuit

oscarpiastri im right there with you mate

Yn_norris eras tour prep is not for the week‼️

lilyzniemer especially when you’re making your own stuff

user1 the nods to Midnights/Vigilante shit 🧐 Ms. Norris I think I know your outfit

Carmenmmundt I’m so excited!!

lilymhe we’re gonna have a blast in T-3 days!!

alexandrasaintmleux were all packed up and ready 🫶🫶

user2 all the wags are gonna show up and slay while the men will prod wear some boring ass clothes

yn_norris you best believe Kimi’s gonna slay, I made him a fit so he can’t embarrass me

user2 lmao Y/n

user3 this is so aesthetic i could cry

Kimi.antonelli posted 2 stories!

Captions: 1) ive been roped into bracelet making 2) did I do good?

Replies:

yn_norris

you did so good

Whoever you trade that to will be so lucky

I need to do more

get to it then

Oscarpiastri

Lily hasn’t gotten to me yet

If she does idk what I’ll even make

Best of luck avoiding it solider

Olliebearman

I wanna join

Don’t worry she’s bringing the materials with us so you can make some at the hotel

yn_norris posted a story!

Caption: I’ve arrived 🫶✨🪩

Kimi.antonelli

liked by user1, taylorswift, Olliebearman, and 817,828 others

Kimi.antonelli: “I was enchanted to meet you” 💜

tagged: yn_norris, Taylorswift

yn_norris I love you 💜🫶

Kimi.antonelli I love you too 💜🫶

user1 THEY WERE AT MY SHOW

user2 ugh i need a concert bf

carlossainz55 @/landonorris after tonight I cannot do the overprotective uncle role anymore, they’re too cute

landonorris MATE WHAT

Kimi.antonelli finally a win

carlossainz55 but hurt her even a little…

Kimi.antonelli I understand

Taylorswift THE Enchanted couple

Kimi.antonelli what a compliment

yn_norris I’ve fallen to the floor and started violently sobbing

Landonorris L

user3 did you trade your bracelet??

user4 the fact that this whole post is centered around Y/n 🥹🥰

user5 drivers (+ their so) really brought the best energy

User6 do you think Travis felt more at ease bc he wasn’t surrounded by other celebrities but rather other male athletes?

user7 I wanna know if him and Logan talked American football

Yn_norris

Liked by taylorswift, Lilymhe, landonorris, and 182,928 others

Yn_norris: “I had the best day with you today” 💛

tagged: Kimi.antonelli, lilyzniemer, carmenmmundt, lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux

Kimi.antonelli you looked so beautiful in the concert lights 💛

yn_norris ditto 💛

user2 LMAO THEIR OUTFITS

user1 the fact Kimi and Y/n matched the hearts to the lyrics album for both posts makes me sick

lilymhe it was so fun!!

carmenmmdunt gorgeous

lilyzniemer you win best couple costume!!

landonorris after seeing Vigilante Shit I have decided that your outfits are way to inappropriate and therefore I hate them

yn_norris too late 😚

taylorswift best outfits! Best energy! Best fan! Y/n I love you 🫶🪩

yn_norris you’re the best everything!! I love you too 🫶🪩

yn_norris HOLY SHIT SHE FOLLOWED ME AHHHHHHH

user3 she’s just like me fr

ussr4 her bracelet collection 😭😭

user5 people have said she wore them the whole time

Yn_norris well what was I supposed to do? Not show off all of my new besties and their hard work??

#f1 #f1 imagines #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 smau #f2 #formula 2 #formula 2 x reader #formula 2 imagine #kimi antonelli imagine #kimi antonelli x reader #kimi antonelli smau

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angsthology · 1 year ago

Text

“im just excited, is all” — or an alt title: roo vs. the australian allegations

who is roo, really? why is roo?

a/n a short one cause if im being honest theres just one tiny explanation and... yeah

or, yknow, alt alt title: daniel’s detective era

THE KANGAROO(KIE) VS. THE WORLD

“WOOOO!! I’M NEVER GONNA DIE!” she yelled into the radio, at this point not even shocking her engineer anymore.

“sure, kid.” he chuckled. “congratulations, again, i’ll see you out.”

as soon as she parked her car, the girl quickly jumped out of her seat and stand on the nose of her car, jumping repeatedly with both her feet going up and down excitedly. it ends with a last hard jump off the car and her hands up in the air, yelling on the top of her lungs.

when suddenly — to everyone’s dismay — she started shuffling. well, attempted, shuffling.

daniel, who had the pleasure of sharing the podium with her and was there to witness it first hand, could not help but unknowingly let his hand fly to his mouth to muffle his laughter. man, he just took off his balaclava, he thought.

then, just his luck, the girl stopped mid-shuffle and looked towards his way and waved at him excitedly before running towards the australian and attacking him in a bear-hug.

of course, the man expected the hug, what he didn’t expect was how strong it was going to be.

he let out a muffled “oof” as soon as she collided with him. daniel did not think he has ever gotten a hug this tight. let alone receiving it from a girl almost half his size.

“congratulations!” she could not get bored of hearing that. making her hug him tighter, “okay, oh, lord, i can’t breathe. please.”

“oh—hehe, sorry.” she immediately let go of the man and ran off—well, more hopped off—to get herself weighed.

the older man could not help but chuckle watching her hop away.

again, really?

the girl could never not get bored of all the demeaning questions that seemed to only be targeted towards her.

unfortunately for them, she was not having it that day.

so here she was, berating a man who was like generations behind her — and everyone else — with the rest of the grid listening, watching in amusement.

they always enjoy watching her absolutely destroying male fossils that walked the paddock. it was free entertainment.

her manager didn’t even stop her anymore — well, he did, usually when he knows she’ll say something completely unhinged and not for viewers ears — he just watches with a proud smile like the rest of the drivers until she eventually runs out of breath, all the while also stealing it from the opposite person.

and now it’s about five minutes later and the room was silent, really soaking in her words.

as usual, daniel was the one to break the silence — his tone doing its best to relief the tension that clouded the room.

“remind me not to piss you off.”

sebastian found his voice when he looked towards daniel, “i really admire her agression.”

“i try.”

the mclaren driver was minding his own business when suddenly he felt someone plop down on the seat next to him.

said person didn’t say anything, they just stared at him blankly for a good few seconds. in return, daniel had the expression equivalent of a question mark.

until eventually he felt a little creeped out, “what do you want?”

her response was… weirder.

“what do you want?”

“…what?”

suddenly, out of nowhere, the twenty-two-year-old pulls out a fanny pack from the side. and when she opened it, they were both met with all kinds of candy.

daniel raised his eyebrows at the girl.

“this stays between us.”

it did, but also no, she had previously already approached alex, mick, lando, and yuki, doing the exact same thing.

“…okay?” he then removed the confused expression on his face to one of curiosity of what’s inside the pack, “you got any haribo?”

“everyone, everyone, everyone!”

the girl hopped over to the group of men, dragging a slightly smaller one with her.

“yes, yes, yes!” replied george.

she the shoved the brunette girl in her arms to the front, holding her by both her forearms from the back.

“i want you all to meet daisy-mae!”

a strings of ‘hi’s and ‘hello’s along with ‘nice to meet you’s were exchanged.

the young driver then noticed a certain australian missing.

“hey where’s dan— DANNY!” she jumped when she saw said man approaching. as usual, she excitedly hopped her way over to him.

he chuckled, “hey, roo.”

at that, she stopped mid-way and looked at him confused, “who?”

“you.”

“huh.”

“you’re like a ‘lil kangaroo, y’know?”

still confused, she was brought out of a daze when she heard loud sounds of agreement from behind her.

“that’s what she is!”

“aw, that’s cute, our little kangaroo…”

“LITTLE?!”

taglist; @treehouse-mouse @disneyprincemuke @yansbolobao @leilanixx @judespoisons @vellicora

hope this didnt disappoint </3

#tine’s roo vs the world #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula one #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo

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yourlocalsmutwriter · 8 days ago

Text

This year, I want to be a wetter, I mean better person - Mark Webber x reader

cws: age gaps (reader is in her 20s, Mark is in his 40s), perv! Mark, semi-public, squirting, dirty talk, author loves dilfs and hopes that one day dilfs will love her too

Whichever spirit possessed your parents to decide to move to the middle of nowhere, England was a hidden blessing. It may not have seemed that way when you had to endure their company for the 4 hour drive from the airport or when you knew that there was no one fuckable for miles. Not that you could get down and dirty under a family roof, whether it was somebody else's or your own. Nothing more haunting than staring down at the lone poster of Fernando Alonso from his Renaut era on your hideously painted walls while cumming. Or, more accurately faking an orgasm. So you spent a nice, festive Christmas Eve and Christmas in your new family home. Catalogued everything that went wrong in your life to land you in this position from the 26th onwards. Actually explored the town and found that at least 1 bar (as if it would have more than that not on the main street) was open on New Years.

Your parents were not party people. By 8, they had tucked in on the couch and were yawning through a holiday concert of some Dutch guy. You shimmied into the one presentable dress they had seemed to pack from your childhood home. "Conveniently," your cute clothes were in storage, and the owner was somewhere in Dubai at the moment. So you have to make do with this black piece. It's not your first choice. But at least the fact that you had grown some tits since being 18 a few years ago was comforting. You pass your parents by with a promise to not be long now. Being met with a sleepy "Don't worry, sweetheart." you know that they're going to sleep through the fireworks anyway.

To nobody's surprise, the bar isn't crowded. The raging bull is in a pathetic state. Some top 40 hits radio station is playing. The floor is sticky. The bartender looks like he's your parents' age, and it doesn't seem like he knows just what goes into your favorite Long Island iced tea. You sit down and ask him to keep pouring you rum and cokes until either he runs out or your wallet is empty. You sip his very boozy concoction slowly, as you're texting your friends. Complimenting their party fits. Asking details about potential hookups. Looking at pictures of their pets in ugly sweaters. As midnight draws near, someone else actually gets inside the bar. You look up and see a pair of green eyes and holy shit, it's a holiday miracle. It's Mark Webber. 9 time GP winner. Manager of your current favorite driver on the grid. Ultimate celebrity crush, Mark Webber. With the grace of a newborn giraffe, you slide out of your chair. You don't want him to see you, but at the same time, you need it to survive. There goes your cover of not knowing who he is. Now, the bar name makes sense. It all aligns like a jigsaw puzzle. The car themed coasters. The signed cocktail napkin framed on the wall. The only “fancy” drink on the menu being named the Aussie grit.

After you not so subtly go to the bathroom to reapply your lipstick and try to work wonders with a mascara wand, you go back to your place at the bar. Only Mark is next to you, bendy black straw into his namesake cocktail.

"Look, I don't know how much they paid you to tail me here, but I can double it." he says, and you're confused.

"You're some kind of journalist or something.” You shake your head, still too stunned that he's here, talking to you.

“Don't tell me you're just some big city girl whose boyfriend brought her to meet the parents, and now you're single because you found him groping his cousin. Because, believe me, that romcom's more of a staple than you think." He continues.

"Wow, how bad is this town that a young woman in a bar on NYE is news. My parents moved here in April. I'm visiting them for the first time. And so far, I haven't encountered any guys, much less the ones that think the best part of waking up is Folgers in their cup." You explain.

"Are your folks the couple who hate each other but are always bragging about their daughter's graduation in March?" Mark guesses, and you are once again stunned by just much this small town gets to people. Not only does a man that's starred into many of your wet dreams know your parents. No, that's not enough, he also knows they're not the perfect relationship role models. You can't help but wonder if it's hereditary and also the reason you haven't brought home a partner. Pushing that to the side, you reply to him with

"Just the ones.”

"You know your dad thinks we're best friends, and your mom keeps asking if I can hire you at Porsche or McLaren." He says and suddenly all the facetimes with your parents come back to you. The man with a very nice house who they invite over for tea sometimes. The one that's been a little under the weather lately. The one who drives a sports car to the center.

"You're motorsport Mark? Of course you are. Be grateful that you don't have any kids my age because I'd practically be your daughter in law too." You speak before you think, momentarily forgetting about the man's wife and kid. Then you wonder why he's out here with you and not back at home. You're inching to ask, but there is no way to say “are you divorced, and if yes, can I ride you into next year, please?"”. Especially after he hits you with a reminder of why that's a bad idea.

"You should be happy that your parents are proud of you, sweetheart. And that they want you to stick around with them here." He says.

"If I was, wouldn't I be about to watch the fireworks with them?" You ask.

"Still some time until that, isn't it? Wanna make it count?" He replies to your question with a question.

You agree, and there's two more Aussie Grits on the bar. The bar tender also places two laminated sheets of paper and two markers in front of you. The comic sans text on top says "New Years Resolutions" and the neat little lines give you 5 rows to write in.

"Sick of hearing us talk, aren't you?" Mark asks the other man, and the latter just grunts.

"Bet I can write mine before you finish your drink." The former driver says, clearly still a speed fiend. You shake on it, and you start chugging the strong drink. Meanwhile, he's adding chicken scratch sentences to the A4.

He beats you, and to his credit, all his resolutions are thought out and personal. You're happy to see that he's put "do more for Oscar" in there and giggle at the "post more on Instagram?". While you're still reading, he's busy gloating, making fun of you for not learning the most important thing in college - how to hold your liquor.

"What, like you could do any better. Mark, I'm surprised you're standing after the drinks you already had. I bet that I'll have to see you get locked in here till the morning for your own sake." You say, both posing a challenge and remembering the "beauty" of some more traditional British pubs. You hope that the one booth you see is at least comfortable. He doesn't back down, and you're on the clock, writing down what you want to accomplish in 2025. But your brain is buzzing from the drinks, from the way liquid is dripping down Mark's chin and onto his pants, by the fact that you're a horny drunk and the unavailable dilf next to you is too delicious to pass on. You lose, unsurprisingly. Handing over the list, you absent mindedly say

"You know I wouldn't mind your help with the last one, I'm sure you can make it happen, wink wink, nudge nudge.". You're referring to the item "attend my first grand prix," a dream of yours since getting into the sport. But apparently, in the rush, you had added a more nsfw goal under it. Because the item on your list that ended it prematurely was, in fact, "squirt for the first time.".

"You wanna double-check your work before saying things, sweetheart. " he asks, and you're mortified when you do. You start apologizing and gathering your things to leave. Mark places a strong hand on your bare thigh to stop you.

"I never said I wasn't going to do it. I'd be glad to. I'm just making sure that here and now is the place you want to bring this up." He says. Your jaw drops, and you're like a fish out of water.

"Aren't you married?" You ask. It's not the first that you thought would come out of your mouth. Yet, you have to hear him say it.

"Divorced. Technically, in the process of, but no ring. Empty house, and a cold bed. Only my left hand for relief." He says and you're picturing Mark pumping his cock in his fist. You cross your legs and clench your thighs slightly, which doesn't go unnoticed by the older man. He moves his hand and spreads them.

"And you, sweetheart? Do you have some secret boy toy to make your switch into adulthood more fun? Or a nice pretty girl like yourself that you've been shaking up with since your dorm days?" He asks.

"No. Same as you, but I use my right hand. My clit's too sensitive if I switch up my technique." You say, hellbent on making that man go crazy for you.

Mark looks around and tips a crisp 50-pound note from his wallet. You can't help but notice the little blue wrapper peeking out of the Italian leather. He calls over the bartender and asks for "2 coffees when we come back." You think the Aussie's going to take you to his car. Have you ruin his custom leather seats and make you lick up your mess as punishment? You guess he might even take you to his house, not that you have any idea where it is exactly. Ask you to hold on tight as the headboard to his once marital bed slams against the wall. Makes sure your sensitive little clit humps against the pillow as he's fucking you from behind.

But Mark drags you to the men's room instead. Spreads your legs and makes you grab the sink.

"You know I'm a man of few words. And as much as I'd love to start you off with a hands-on approach, I think you haven't earned it yet. So let's show you some videos first, huh?". He pulls out his phone and opens his Google drive. He's got a folder titled xxx and in it is maliciously organized subfolders by years.

"I can click any of them? And I'll see you making a woman squirt?" You say, impressed.

"Never met a girl whose pussy I couldn't make gush. Although I'd stick to the pre-retirement years." He says and you settle on a 2012 video. You know the later ones probably feature his ex. But this one stars a faceless blonde, all curves and moans. You squirm when Mark smacks her ass, watching it jiggle. You keep your eyes on how his tongue slides between her folds. You try to ignore how he's rolled up your dress and is just staring at your underwear. Watching it get wetter and wetter. You're too preoccupied with younger him to ask for his touch now.

The next video is a brunette, with pierced nipples and a possible disdain for Mark. That's gone when he slides into her, fingers pinching her clit. He makes her come too, and the next one and the one after that. You've seen enough. You turn and find him eye level with your cunt, long legs bent into a squat. He may be more than a decade older than in the video, but an old dog doesn't stop learning new tricks.

"Mark, I need you, please." You beg, beyond ready to be treated like one of his "little starlets" from the spank bank. You wonder if he'd film you too. Have your pussy soaking his cock in your juices as a memento of your time together.

"How do you want me, sweetheart?" He asks.

"Need you to fuck me, want to feel your cock inside of me, please." You moan out. And he's a perfect gentleman, because he promises he'll give it to you.

But first he slides his fingers to the front of your underwear and two of them are on your clit, rubbing. Maybe it's because of his height, that the length has spread even to his limbs. Maybe it's the dexterity, the sheer speed of his movements. Usually you'd prefer it starting slow, and building up. But with Mark, it was all climbing, starting at a 100 and moving towards 200 and above. Your hips are bucking against him, searching more. He slows just for a second in order to thrust two fingers inside of you.

"Look at you, already a mess. Did I get you so rilled up, sweetheart. Does this old man do it so much for you?" He asks and smiles as you can only groan and beg for more. He's not someone who draws out things, so he tells you to keep it up for him as he opens the condom package. He watches you whine that your fingers don't feel as good, that they aren't enough.

"Oh sweetheart, just you wait. You're going to be ruined." Mark says as he feeds you just the tip. He makes you take your hands off, replacing them with his. He thrusts up, matching his movements on your clit.

"It's too big, please." You say. Were you asking him for more or to stop? Your body seemed to favour the latter , because you were practically dripping on the bathroom floor. Mark uses his other hand to bring you closer to himself, his shallow thrusts pumping deeper and deeper. He's hitting that spot in your body, the one which you didn't even know existed.

"Be good and cum for me, will you, sweetheart? I don't have all night. So unless you want me to drag you out like this and fuck you on the town square under the fireworks, you better let go." Mark says. He does miss how tight you get around him when he talks like this. He continues, telling you how good you make him feel and how he can't wait to see your pretty orgasm face.That's what tips you over the edge. They're tears coming out of your eyes, you're pretty sure you're drooling and Mark's cock is indeed soaked with your juices. You can hear the obnoxious squelching of his last few thrusts, before he also comes.

He's still inside you when your alarm rings, the sound coming from your purse, long forgotten on the floor. You scramble to turn it off.

"One minute to midnight. Well, it's more like 20 seconds now." You announce. Mark takes your face in his hands (still slick with you) and kisses you gently. He doesn't have the heart to tell you that this is the first kiss he's had all year. You don't have the heart to tell him the same. All you know is that your return flight might be rebooked to a later date. You finally found something interesting to do in your parent's new town.

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 x you #f1 imagine #mark webber x you #mark webber x reader #mark webber smut

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1989butcher · 2 years ago

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All Night

daryl dixon x reader

accidentally injured on a run, daryl refuses to leave your side till you wake.

set in early alexandria era

3.5k words ! mostly fluff, maybe a bit of angst but just daryl being angry for a bit. enjoy!!

not my gif!

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You were running. Bags wrapped to your body, holding as much supplies as you possibly could as the building burned behind you. “Y/N! Come on!” Rosita yelled from the driver’s side of the truck. You were panting, and could feel blood dripping from your forehead. Just a bit further, you told yourself. You heard the dead right behind you, the ones that weren’t attracted to the fire that is. There were at least 100, maybe more. Abraham opened the door from the inside of the truck, extending his arm out for you to grab. His face was also coated in blood, but it was walker blood. You practically threw yourself at him, and he pulled you into the truck. Rosita floored the gas and sped back home.

Before you could even take the bags off, your head hit the back of the seat and you were out like a light. You had been in the building when Rosita threw the dynamite stick in. Not in an attempt to injure you, but to get the swarm of walkers that were surrounding you away. You had been scavenging the building a little longer than planned, but also none of you saw the dozens from behind the building file in. When the dynamite went off, you flew against the wall, your head throbbing and ears ringing. You were knocked flat on the ground, grabbing your head in. You shook yourself awake, hearing the growls of the dead, and grabbed your bags as fast as you could before running out.

What happened next are only the bits and pieces you remember, when your eyes would flutter open or when your hearing would return. While you were sleeping, more or less just passed out, Abraham had taken the bags off of you as your head rested against the window now. You slightly woke as he pulled each strap from over your head and the back pack off your back, but you never fully gained consciousness.

“Rosita, I’m gonna need you to step on the gas a little harder, my friend.” Abraham said, shooting a concerned look through the rear view mirror where Rosita made eye contact. She pressed her lips in a line and did just what he asked, Glenn turning to look at you. The four of you had only been out a few hours, but since the run wasn’t really planned, it was more of an exploration, you were all a little banged up. You had just unfortunately been in the line of fire. Glenn opened his backpack to reveal some gauze, handing it to Abraham. “Put this on her head to try and stop the bleeding.” He nodded, holding the gauze to your head for the entire duration of the car ride. He was the one that told Rosita to throw the dynamite in the room he had already cleared, or he thought he did. You had wandered back in there to look around a bit more, not realizing what was happening outside. It was a mistake, and you weren’t angry, you just didn’t think you were going to step so close to death today.

You remember feeling pressure on your forehead; you weren’t sure if it was pain or Abraham’s hand, but it just felt hot. The gates were pulled open and everyone opened their door to get out, except for you. “We need help! ” Glenn called out, heading to your side of the truck. Although Abraham had opened his door, he stayed inside, keeping his hand on your still bleeding head. You were losing the color in your face. “No dying today, Missy.” He whispered under his breath. Rosita slowly opened your door, catching your shoulder as it dropped. Glenn was next to her, the two of them carrying you on their shoulders. You were dead weight, honestly by the sheer amount of blood from your head and body, you looked to be dead too. The fear of losing you became all too real for the archer.

After Glenn called for help, a few people from your group came sprinting down the street. Maggie came from the garden, already coming to greet Glenn, but ran after he called out. Rick and Michonne came flying out of their house, and Daryl followed right behind them, running even faster as your seemingly lifeless body was removed from the car. His heart was pounding, it’s like he knew this would happen. Right when he lets someone in they go and leave him, happened to his brother first, then Beth, and now you. Glenn saw the look on his face when he came at them full speed as him and Rosita were slowly but surely carrying you to the infirmary. Daryl looked at him for answers after scanning you up and down. “She’s still breathing, dude. Got knocked out after a run in with a herd.” Glenn was out of breath, since his own body was aching from being hurt too. The archer didn’t respond, just nudged Rosita out of the way and picked you up bridal style.

He looked down at your face, your eyes still shut and your arm now hung over his. You were completely out of it and it terrified him. He could never stop you from going on runs, it was your favorite thing to do together, it added a little adventure after getting used to being so comfortable at Alexandria. He quickly carried you up the steps of the infirmary, kicking the door open with Denise sitting on one of the cots. “What happened?” She asked worriedly, placing her book down and rushing to your side. “Dunno-“ the archer was cut off by Rosita standing in the door frame. “A herd came when she was still in the building. We thought she was out and tossed an explosive in to distract the herd so we could leave.” Her voice wavered, she felt absolutely terrible. You were her friend, more so family now, and the last thing she wanted to do was hurt you. The fear that coursed through her veins when throwing that stick was a fear she had never felt before. Rosita didn’t see you exit the building, but if she waited another second it would be too late. Glenn and Abraham were fighting off walkers when ‘Big Red’ as you called him, cried out he was certain you exited and were making your way around. He swore he saw you right behind him.

Pure anger was all Daryl felt. He could’ve punched Rosita’s lights out right here, right now. He turned his head to meet Rosita when she spoke and when their eyes met she could feel his anger from across the room. She shook her head and broke the eye contact, but she could still feel his eyes burning into her skull. Denise listened intently to her words, before getting right to work on fixing you up. She also desperately wanted to ease the tension. “Daryl, can you please get some water. She’s dehydrated.” Denise didn’t even look at him, afraid of his eye contact in all honesty. He stood up without saying a word, walking right out the door to go grab water from the pantry, purposely slamming his shoulder into Rosita’s. Once he was gone, and would be back within a minute, Rosita sighed, and quickly came to assist Denise.

“Let me help, please.” She grabbed gauze and some alcohol, cleaning your other wounds and waiting for Denise’s instructions. You didn’t have any serious injuries, you needed some stitches, water, and rest. You maybe had a mild concussion, but until you woke there wouldn’t be much of a way to tell.

As Daryl stormed down the street, Rick saw the anger in his eyes. He quickly grabbed his wrist, Daryl pulling away as soon as he felt Rick’s touch. “Daryl, stop, you need to cool down.” He said calmly, jumping in front of his path. Daryl attempted to go around him, but Rick kept stepping in front. “Move.” He was about to blow. He needed to get back to you. Getting water was the only thing he could do for you. “It was an accident. They told me the whole thing.” Date cut him off, yelling “She could have died!” He took a step back, staring Rick down.

Rick placed his hands on his hip, sighing. “I know that, man, but she didn’t. It’s not anyone’s fault.” Daryl scoffed at his friend, someone he called his brother. “The hell it ain’t!” A few Alexandrians were watching the altercation now, along with Glenn and Maggie on the porch of their house, Carol was with Michonne and Abraham at the truck, a few of your other people scattered around. The pair could feel the eyes on them, but Daryl’s rage was fueling him. He couldn’t protect you, couldn’t fix what had happened, he needed someone to blame. As usual, he blamed himself. Rick was quiet for a second, knowing Daryl had something else to say.

“If I’d been there-“ the archer started, staring at the ground now. Rick shook his head, “Brother, do not do this.” Rick wanted to step closer to him, but talking with Daryl was not like any normal conversation, especially when he was angry, or when it came to you. “Nah! If I was there, nothin’ woulda happened to her!” He began to feel eyes on him now. Rick lowered his head, sighing “It’s not on you Daryl, it’s just not.” Daryl stepped back, anger still running rampant in him. Until you were awake, he would still be angry. He didn’t reply to Rick, instead he walked around him, bringing back the water he was asked for.

As he jogged up the steps, he saw Rosita at your side. He quickened his steps, making them louder so she would walk away. It worked. She looked at him and quickly stepped away and out of the room. You were cleaned up now, a handful of stitches were near your hairline where the large gash once was. Your other cuts were clean, some covered. He pulled a chair up to your bedside, not taking his eyes off of you for a second. “She should be okay, probably just going to sleep for a while.” Denise broke the silence, looking you over one more time to see if she missed anything. Daryl nodded in reply, a wave of slight relief washed over him, and the anger was quiet now. Since he laid eyes on you sleeping, he couldn’t hold on to the emotion. He just wanted you to open your pretty eyes.

Denise took some supplies and quietly walked out of the building, shutting the door behind her. The other three you were with sustained minor injuries, Rosita had informed her of this when the two were alone with you. She also knew Daryl so desperately craved privacy with you, although he’d never say it. He just had that look.

Once she was gone, he took your hand in his. He wasn’t much of a crier, but the fear of you being dead was way too real today. He was just staring at you as his mind raced. If you woke up, he would have no idea what to say. His immediate thoughts were ‘The hell were you thinkin’?’ Or ‘You coulda died’, but he knew better than to say these kind of things to you. You would always reply with something lighthearted as a way to ease the tension. Everyday was spent running from death, people died everyday before the apocalypse and they died everyday still, just even more so.

He brushed some hair out of your face, tucking some of it behind your ear as he always did. It was a habit he had. You two would be mid conversation whether it was in bed or out walking, and he would gently push some hair out of your face and behind your ear. It never failed to make you blush. He kept his hand near your face, gently rubbing his thumb on your cheek. “Need ya here. I need ya.” He whispered. The sun was setting when you had pulled up, and it was now pitch black in your community. He peered out the window at the sound of creeping on the porch. He pulled his hand away from your face, but not your hand. He was still as shy as every when it came to affection. It was Denise returned with the unused reply. “Sorry.” She muttered, leaving as quickly as she had come in.

Daryl sat there for hours, his hand in yours. He eventually turned the dimmed lights all the way off, as a way to conserve power and he thought it would help you sleep. You loved to sleep in total darkness, always had. He learned this about you one night, shortly after Terminus. He was on watch, and you had a habit of sleeping near him, since you would take watch often as well. You would wrap a t-shirt, or use the sleeve of your jacket to cover your eyes as you slept. One night, before you had fallen asleep, he playfully lifted the sleeve. “Hey,” your voice was groggy, “I’m using that.” You didn’t even open your eyes, just reached your arm up to pull his back down. He released the sleeve and let out a small chuckle. “Weirdo.” He said, under his breath of course. You heard it and shot your head up, this time removing the sleeve from your eyes and rested it on your forehead. “What did you say to me?” You snapped, jokingly of course. “Nothin’, nothin’ at all.” You rolled your eyes and laid back down before he mumbled another “Weirdo.” You sat right back up and attacked him with tickles and teases, the two of you exchanging kisses in between.

He missed you, your laugh and smile especially. It always managed to light up even the darkest situations. It annoyed him at first, but now he knew if you weren’t making a joke out of something, you were really fucked. After a few hours of sitting there and the night was slowly passing, Carol carefully entered the room. “You need anything?” She asked, staying near the door. Daryl turned to her, exhaustion all over his face, and boy she could read him like an open book. She sighed, “Y/N’s probably not going to be up for hours, you should get some rest.” He shook his head. “Not leaving her.” He looked right back at you, in the exact position you had been in for hours, your chest slowly rising and falling with your slow breaths.

Carol asked again if he needed anything, to which he replied “Nah. You should get some sleep.” Carol almost laughed, knowing the two of them probably get the least amount of sleep out of anyone here. She wished him a good night and closed the door, leaving the two of you alone again. The minutes felt like hours, and the hours felt like days. He rested his head next to the space below your hand and next to your body. He still held your hand, and found himself slowly drifting off to sleep.

Morning crept in as slow as ever, and as the sun reached your eyes, you let out a sigh. Your head was pounding, and the last thing you remember was being in that room. Everything felt heavy, but you thanked your lucky stars. You were alive. You wanted to stretch a bit, but you looked down at the figure draped over the side of your bed. He still held you hand. You deeply wished in that moment someone had a camera. Not that this was a moment you wanted to remember forever.

You attempted to speak but your mouth was paper dry, so instead you reached over your other hand and gently ran your fingers through his hair. He let out a small grunt in acknowledgment, since that was something you did often. Then it hit him. It was something you did. You were awake.

His head shot up and he stared at you with tired eyes. A million thoughts raced his mind again. He had a million questions, mostly because he knew you were more careful than that, you weren’t one to get injured on runs. “Hey.” was all he could manage. “Hi.” Your voice was raspy. He let go of your hand to crack open a water bottle that was on the floor, handing it to you. You drank as much as you could before handing it back to him. “Thank you.” You said weakly, but sounded more like yourself. His heart fluttered at the sound of your voice. You smiled at him, as wide as you could with the little energy you had. He returned it with a smaller smile, taking your hand again to kiss it about a million times.

“You stayed with me all night?” You asked, looking around the empty room and realized the sun was rising. “Mhm. Had to make sure you were alright.” He replied, still staring at you in disbelief. The image of you slung over Glenn and Rosita’s shoulders haunted his mind. “I think I’m ok.” You reached for your head, softly touching the stitches. You sighed, you deeply hated having stitches. You’ve only had them a few times, but it just grossed you out. You hated being hurt, too, just like Daryl you always wanted to tough it out.

“You should get some sleep.” Daryl said quietly, watching your every move. If you had the strength to laugh, you would’ve. He looked like shit, “You too.” You let out a small giggle. With this, he knew you were going to be okay. His tensed shoulders eased up at the sound of your quiet laughter. “Whatever.” Was all he said, before standing up and began looking for something. You frowned, assuming he was leaving. “Please don’t go.” Your voice was small, but Daryl didn’t turn to you. He was sifting through drawers until he found a small wash cloth that was clean. He returned to your side, laying your head back. “Not going anywhere, sunshine.” He placed the wash cloth over your eyes, blocking the sun out. You smiled, even though you couldn’t see it, he smiled at the sight of you. “I love you.” You said, before puckering up your lips. Daryl rolled his eyes, lovingly of course, before planting a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Love ya too, now sleep before you give me another heart attack.” His tone shifted on that last bit, it made you realize how scared he was. Your heart broke a bit, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. He returned to the position of sleeping at your side, this time one hand in his and the other draped over his head, you gently rubbing the back of his head till you both drifted off to sleep.

A few days pass and you were back home, just about fully recovered. You were recounting the story of what happened before the explosion when you remembered what you had been doing in that room. “Where’s my pack?” You asked mid-story. Daryl’s eyes squinted, confused at why you asked, but brought you your duffle from the kitchen to the couch. You excitedly unzipped it, holding onto what you had searched for. “I went back in that room because I found these.” You grinned, revealing a half a dozen arrows that you thought would work for Daryl’s crossbow. You handed them to him, letting him inspect the set carefully. He sighed in disbelief “Ya almost died for a couple o’ these?” He asked, still checking the set. You nodded, still beaming at the sight of him.

“Worth it to see that look on your face.” He was so damn happy, he just wouldn’t say it. He had been using the same, maybe four, arrows for two years. You couldn’t believe your eyes when you came across them, buried in a drawer. You remembered it was the last thing you had shoved in your bag before the flash of light. Daryl was afraid to hug you and thank you, the last thing he wanted to do was cause more pain. “Think they’ll work?” You asked as he put them down, along with moving the duffle from between you two. He nodded, carefully wrapping his arms around you. You welcomed the familiar feeling, pulling him into you even closer, resting your chin in the crook of his neck.

“Next time I’ll try harder not to get blown to bits.” You said, causing the both of you to laugh a bit. He pulled away. “That’d be good.” He agreed, before kissing you. “Thanks, for the set. Ya didn’t have to.” His cheeks were burning because of the gesture you had made. You shrugged. “I wanted to. I’d do it again if it came down to it.” Now, you wouldn’t want to get blown to smithereens again, but arrows were hard to come by, and now every time he used them he’d think of you. “Yea,” he scoffed, “Don’t do that again. Didn’t like sitting there all night thinkin’ I lost ya.” He stared at the ground, blaming himself as usual. The only way to get him to stop, you found, was not feeding into it. You took his face in your hands. “You sat there all night?” You assumed he did, but you weren’t certain. “Mhm, had to see those pretty eyes when they opened.” he blushed and so did you at the compliment. Your heart could’ve exploded right then and there. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” You said quietly, stroking his hair. He shook his head, “Sorry for not being there.” He replied, a sadness cloaking his usually rougher voice. You sighed, knowing damn well he would take the blame no matter what happened. “It’s not on you honey, I’m home. That’s all that matters now.” You stroked your thumbs on his cheeks, hoping to ease his pain. He looked back up at you, his eyes a bit glossy. Your heart sank, “Oh, Daryl.” You threw your arms back around him, pulling him close to you again, this time he held you as if you would disappear into thin air if he let go. You had no idea the state you were in when you had pulled up to those gates a few days ago. You had no idea Daryl thought you had died.

The two of you pulled away after awhile, placing a kiss on his lips before looking him in the eyes again. “Can’t believe I almost got blown up, how dumb was that?” You joked, knowing that was definitely one of Daryl’s thoughts hearing the story. He shook his head, laughing at you. There you were, cracking jokes about nearly dying.

That’s his girl. And there wasn’t another place on earth he’d want to spent his night.

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a/n - let me know your thoughts!! would love to take requests too in my ask <3 thank u for all the love on Boots!!

#daryl x y/n #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead #norman reedus #daryl dixon oneshot #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfiction

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discotenny · 6 months ago

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Fight for you!

How different Hypmic pairs fight for your affection

Samatoki & Sasara, Ichiro & Kuko

Samatoki & Sasara (MCD era)

The pair’s interest in you in undeniable. The two men, at your door, beaten up and bruised in expectation to be treated in your care, is a very- very common sight.

Drinking nights are common with them too, usually having Samatoki as your designated driver since you and Sasara tend to go in over your heads.

You fit into their little duo nicely, and they’re proud to call you something akin to a friend.

Sasara’s the one more open about his fondness for you.

His flirtations are lined with shitty jokes. He’s always itching his neck in your proximity, a sign of nervousness clear as day to anyone. The amount of lame jokes that leave his lips around him drive Samatoki half mad- causing the pair to get into frequent arguments about how Sasara has to tone it down and how Samatoki has to stop being a cock block- all while you watch in the back.

When Sasara gets drunk he gets bold. He’s diving into your lap, sometimes he’s successful, sometimes he misses and goes face first into the floor.

When he is successful though, he makes a big show to Samatoki, complimenting you with no tact and cuddling into your stomach. If you ever want him off, just send a look towards Samatoki and Sasara will be flying across the room.

Samatoki on the other hand, is subtle in his interest.

He shows it through his memory, remembering the most insignificant things about you. Whenever he meets up with you he’s always carrying little packs of your favorite candy, passing it off as “just happening” to have it on hand.

Once, you mentioned offhandedly that your vacuum broke and we’re looking for a new one. All of a sudden there’s a brand new one right in front of your door! Samatoki tells you it was his old model that he didn’t need anymore. Sure buddy, sure.

One tell of Samatoki’s is that he gets so, so flustered whenever you show affection to him. You could fix his jacket and he’d cover his blushing red face. You could wipe some dust off his cheeks and he’d shut down in embarrassment. Not to mention when you patch him up?? He’s blushing and stammering as you wrap his skin, it’s adorable.

The two are willing to share if the opportunity ever presents itself. Nothing much about their dynamic will you will change, after all, aren’t they already treating you as if they’re courting you?

Ichiro & Kuko (present day)

Their rivalry is long gone, any bad blood negated after they've made up. However, the spark of competitiveness still remains after they somehow both catch feelings for you

Picture this right? You knew them from their Naughty Busters days, becoming a close friend to both of them. A classmate to Ichiro, someone who knew Kuko before? It doesn’t really matter.

Anyways, you don’t live in either Ikebukuro or Nagoya, but rather a city close in between. And oh my god to these two boys always have the randomest excuses to visit your city.

Ichi tells you he had a client from your area personally reach out to him. He casually asks if you could spare a room in your house to board him and his bros.

He practically squeals when he sees Jiro and Saburo get along with you- a sense of pride coming inside him knowing his bros unknowingly approve of the person he fell for.

Even after he finishes with his client he asks you to give him a tour of your area, just so he could spend time with you. Even as you point out the beautiful sights of your city, all he can focus on is you.

Ichi insists on buying you everything throughout the day. Your meal, any snacks you point out, any things that catch your interest- hell he’ll even buy you a souvenir even if you live there. You have to stop him from blowing Jiro and Saburo's college funds on your day out together...

Sometimes Kuko doesn't even have an excuse to visit you! He just shows up at your door on some days, looking at you with a cheeky grin and regional snacks from Nagoya.

Has his phone on silent the whole time because Hitoya and Jyushi will be spamming him with calls asking where he's run off to LOL. Kuko usually ends up spending free weekends at your place. Due to his more relaxed life, he ends up visiting you more than Ichiro does.

Due to how much he visits, he has his own travel itinerary that he does and drags you along with him. You ask him why he insists on bringing you to the same places every time he visits and he says everything just feels better with you by his side.

He's taking pictures the entire time you're out. Selfies, shots of you, pics of his food, etc etc. Kuko has so many photos that are basically identical because they're all in the same places with the same subjects but it doesn't matter cause its a reminder he's spent another day with you.

The two will see tells of each other's presence whenever they visit. Whether it be Kuko's photos hanging in your home or trinkets from Ichi strewn about your living space- seeing them just reignites the competitive streak between them.

⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩

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cryptic--writing · 4 months ago

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hihi!!!

i got this idea awhile ago and sent it as a req to a few writers but none did it (which is fine lmao I'm not bitter) so I decided to write it myself!

i think it turned out pretty decent for my third smut, especially since I don't do it a lot.

(yes ik the pic isn't from 81 but he in the story is pre megadeth, but idk this era is more fitting in my opinion)

again!! my reqs are OPEN!!! they will close again on Wednesday and idk when they will be opened again. pls send some!!!

ok, sorry for the rant, here's the fic!

word count: 2,874

warnings: smut, kinda obsessed reader, semi public sex, fingering, hand job, uhh just smut in general I'm not typing any more out

MECHANIX (1981)

I was on my way to the grocery store, needing to pick up some meal prep for the next week and other various items, though it wasn't long into my drive when my car began to malfunction.

I groaned in annoyance when I heard the engine muttering, the car struggling to drive as I pulled over to the side of the road, looking at the gas meter to see I was practically empty on gas. I could probably only drive for another three minutes without the car just giving out. I sighed, looking around at road signs for any possible gas stations, spotting a glowing sign in the near distance.

I got back in my car, driving slow enough to not burn all the gas, but fast enough to get there in time. It was going smoothly, until I hit a red light, just next to the station. I didn't know how long the light would be, and I didn't know how long my car could last, so I floored it, running the light and managing to not get in an accident, though getting a lot of angry honks in response from fellow drivers. Somehow, I was able to get into the parking lot and roll up into a gas stand, right before my car ran out of gas.

It was odd, the parking lot was mostly empty, with only 4 other cars there as well. The shop was dimly lit, a buzzing yellow fluorescent light in the center of the ceiling and some more in corners. It was basically a convenience store. I was looking for something to drink when I got home to rest and relax, I had a long day today anyways. I found a four-pack of beers, grabbing them, and beginning to head to the cashier stand.

That's when I saw him. Possibly the most gorgeous man I've ever laid eyes on.

He had long, slightly curly ginger hair, dark brown eyes, and a strong, manly figure, unlike the others I'd seen in magazines or on TV.

He must've caught my staring, waving for me to come over with a dumb smirk on his face. I felt embarrassed to be caught eyeing a man like he was candy, but I quickly scurried towards the counter, placing the back of beers on the surface.

“Just this and seven on pump four,” I muttered, reaching for my wallet that was in my pocket.

“Alright, that'll be $10.43,” The larger man informed me, and I began to search for the total required in my wallet, digging up two five-dollar bills and two quarters before he spoke again.

“A pretty face like yours got a name?” He questioned me, and I looked up at him, my cheeks tinted pink as I handed him the money.

“Oh, I'm ___,” I responded shyly, a small smile on my face as my eyes searched for a nametag on his shirt. “And thank you, Dave,”

Dave nodded with a smirk, “Course, pretty,” He answered, handing back my due change as I grabbed my beers.

“Am I gonna see you again?” He asked me as I began to walk out the door.

I smiled slightly giving a shrug, “Maybe,” I answered simply with a small giggle, exiting the station and walking back to my car.

That's the night of how it all began.

After that night, I could never shake the image of Dave out of my head. He was like a magnet, like a parasite. Something about him was so electrifying and attractive. I caught myself driving the extra mile just to go to his gas station, and he definitely took notice. I took notice of his shifts, only going when I knew he'd be working. Why drive further if I don't get to see him?

He was everywhere, anytime I saw a ginger, I thought of him. I denim vest? Him. Metal band? Him. Everything traced back to him. It was impossible to be this crushy on a man I only met in a gas station, who I buy my gas from, right?

I had been going to that gas station exclusively for 3 weeks now. Even if I didn't need gas, I'd buy a drink or snack from the mini-mart inside. Tonight was one of the nights, when my car was a bit low on gas, and there was a noticeable issue with the brakes or something, an odd noise, like a screech whenever I used them. It wasn't a huge issue, the breaks worked fine other than that, but maybe I could get Dave to take a look at it.

I drove up to the gas station as usual, parking my car in a darker corner of the lot as I got out, heading inside the minimart with the hope of seeing Dave. I walked in, glancing over at the cashier's stand to, of course, see him. We had made a good amount of small talk now that I've come in so often, and I could consider him a close acquaintance. He gave me a wave with his usual smirk, watching me as I waved back and began to look at the various snacks and drinks.

It was odd, normally when the store was empty, besides the two of us, he'd strike up a small conversation, just how my day had been, what I'd been up to, anything really, and I'd ask him the same. He had probably just had a long day and didn't want to deal with me. I walked in the two, small and short isles before opening up a display fridge and grabbing yet another four-pack of beers, hoping I could maybe give one to him if he wanted it. I walked back towards the counter, setting them down as he rang it up.

“$4.39,” He informed me, and I once again dug in my pocket for my wallet, handing him a five-dollar bill.

“I was wondering if maybe you could take a look at my car, the brake has been acting up and screeching, I just assumed maybe you knew a bit more about cars than me,” I almost mumbled out as he took my money, our fingers grazing each other.

“Sure, I can take a look for ya,” He answered with a nod, handing me back sixty-one cents, “Here's your change by the way, show me to your car,” He instructed, and I guided him out to my old, sort of beat up black car.

“Here she is,” I mumbled again, hoping he wouldn't judge me for having a lower-quality car than most.

“Not bad, not bad.. But, now that we're out here, why don't you tell me the real reason you came out here today,” Dave teased, and I knew he was right.

I played it off, trying to act confused, “For the beer and my car, nothing else,” I answered him, though it was clear a lie burned through me.

Dave just gave a snicker, “You don't think I notice the frequent staring? I talked to my coworker, you are never here the three days I have off. And the guy who does morning shifts? Never seen you. Tell me why you actually come here so much,” His words made a flutter in my stomach, and he was gradually moving closer to me, whispering in my ear now.

“Be honest with me, pretty.. I know the shit here isn't that good to where you'd come here four nights a week,” He whispered into my ear, and I could feel my face heating up.

I shook my head, trying to ignore the truth that really lay beneath the surface, “No, I just…” I couldn't come up with a valid excuse, and now he knew he was right.

Dave just laughed again, “You just what? Hm? You just come here to see me? Is that it?” He teased me further, his breath against my neck.

I couldn't lie any longer, there was no other lie for me to use. “Maybe, but-” I was cut off by him.

“If I'm what you want, that's all you had to say, baby..” He said, giving me a kiss on my ear before pulling away, “It is what you want, right?” Dave had to make sure I was okay with this if it were to go further.

I nodded quickly before turning to face him and kissing him deeply, letting out a soft moan as he began to walk me backwards and have me unlock my car so we could get in.

We got in the backseat with me laying down, Dave on top of me as we continued to ravish each other's mouths, soft sounds escaping the both of us as he began to work on getting his own shirt off, tossing it to the front seat of the car as his hands snaked under my shirt, already reaching up and teasing at my breasts, causing me to let out a soft whine.

We finally broke away, removing my shirt, and tossed messily on the floor of the car. Dave took a moment, admiring the sight of me in just my bra.

“Fuck, you're gorgeous..” He muttered, reaching out to unclasp my bra, sliding it off my shoulders, and leaving my chest bare.

He wasted no time, beginning to kiss my neck, sucking softly at the skin as he moved his mouth down my body. His hands kneaded my breasts as he kissed down the valley between them, eliciting soft whines from me as he continued his trail of affection down my stomach, reaching the hem of my pants. Dave's eyes met mine for a second in a question, and I nodded as he began to slowly unbutton them and shimmy them down my legs.

He admired the sight of me left only in my lacey panties, his eyes drinking me in.

“God, you should've said something weeks ago,” He muttered before beginning to slowly pull them down, revealing my sopping cunt.

Dave just stared for a moment before he began to work on his own pants, unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans, tossing them to the floor of the car as I eyed his erection that strained against his boxers.

He ran his finger down my slit, making me whine and attempt to grind against his singular finger, searching for more friction. He let out a breathy snicker “You're soaked, baby..” He mumbled, slowly pushing one finger inside of me, making me moan softly as he began to build a leisureful pace as he slid a second digit in, stretching me slowly.

He began to kiss me again, our tongues sliding against each other as we sealed more pleasure, his thumb finding my clit as he pumped his fingers faster, slowly building my high as I moaned into his mouth. I could feel myself clenching down around his fingers as he moved them faster, beginning to build a brutal pace as my moans grew more frequent and louder.

He pulled away from the kiss as I panted for air, “Fuck.. I.. I gon-” I was cut off by a whine as Dave pulled his fingers out of me abruptly, just as I was about to release, he stopped.

Dave gave me a devilish grin, taking his fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean of my juices, “Mmm, you can wait a bit more, yeah?” He teased me, stripping himself of his boxers as his large cock sprang free, precum already leaking from the tip. My mouth practically watered at the sight, and he took notice of my staring.

“See somethin’ you like, pretty?” He teased me again with a smirk. I nodded slowly, my hand reaching forward as I took his length in my hand, gently and slowly pumping him, causing him to groan softly and lose his eyes as I gradually increased the pace, jerking him off as he reveled in the pleasure before I stopped suddenly, similar to how he did to me, making him whimper in annoyance.

“Why’d you stop?” He groaned out, now slightly frustrated.

“Same reason you did,” I mumbled, looking up at him.

“You gonna play that game with me?” Dave questioned me, moving so he was now hovering his full body over mine.

I opened my mouth to speak, to answer his question, but before I could he thrusted fully into me, bottoming out as I let out a loud moan, trying to adjust to the aching yet pleasing stretch. I felt him shiver slightly as he put it in, holding it in place for a moment, allowing me to try and adjust. I didn't get much of an adjustment as he began to build a rapid pace without warning, each hard and fast thrust hitting that spot inside me, causing me to moan loudly with every thrust he poured into me, the pain and pleasure mixing splendidly, the sensations combined bringing me to true, pure ecstasy.

I could feel the knot of heat begin to form in my stomach again, his groans and whines being like music to my ears as my own moans joined their melody. He placed his hands on my hips, his fingers digging deep into the fluffy flesh, making me wince ut, knowing his hard grip would leave bruises in the morning. Dave leaned down again, our lips meeting in quick, sloppy kisses as he mumbled words in between each.

“You're tight… feels perfect, just for me, huh doll?” He mumbled, his lips seeking mine as his groans grew louder and louder. I couldn't answer him, my moans taking over my vocal cords as he continued his relentless pursuit into me.

Dave wasn't pleased with me ignoring his words, digging his nails deep into my skin, causing me to whimper in pain and pleasure. “Answer me,” He demanded hoarsely, his thrusts growing harder if they even could.

I moaned out, trying to get myself to form proper words, “Mmm… Mhmm, all.. fuck.. All for you..” I whined out, and he was pleased with my response, having that stupid smug smirk on his face.

Dave continued to hammer into me, his pace brutal to where it felt like he was bruising my insides. I could feel every ridge, vein, and piece of skin inside me as he twitched, indicating his release growing closer, if his louder and more frequent noises of pleasure weren't obvious enough indicators.

The car's windows were glazed with steam, the outside unclear as our sweat-covered bodies moved against each other as he kept thrusting, my moans growing louder as my eyes rolled back in pleasure.

“Feels good, hm?” Dave asked, his finger reaching down to toy with my clit, doubling the pleasure as I began to convulse around his throbbing length in much louder moans, my arms reaching out to claw at his back, his head lowerings with his breath on my neck, scattering brief, lazy kisses across my skin.

“Fuck! Im gonna.. Oh god..!” I moaned out, tightening around his pulsing member as he kept ramming into me. Dave applied more pressure to my clit as he groaned out, sensing his own near as well.

“Come for me, baby, all over my cock..” He groaned out with a whine, his lips resuming a messy trail on my neck, licking at biting at the skin as I let out a freakishly loud moan, my walls clenching down hard on his cock with my release.

My back arched, putting our chests together as my eyes rolled back hearing him groan and grumble to himself as he too came undone.

“Fuck yeah.. Gonna paint your pretty pussy white, baby..” He whined against my neck, feeling the thick ropes of his seeds spray all over my insides, coating my own as I let out a pleased and exhausted whimper, and his hips slowly soothed, allowing us to both ride out our orgasms before he collapsed fully on top of me, though not crushing me.

We laid like this for a few moments, panting heavily as our sweat-doused bodies clung together, my one clean leather seat in the back of my car now ruined with our sweat and pleasure.

My hand reached to gently caress some of his long fiery hair, one thing I had wanted to do for a while, ever since I had seen it.

Dave began to relax against me, allowing us to lay in the afterglow of the rough session, our true feelings finally appearing.

After about a minute or two of silence beside our breaths, “You.. you think anyone saw? Or heard..?” Dave asked, not really worried, probably hoping someone did.

I shrugged with a breathy chuckle, “Not sure, but we gave them a show..” I responded, my hand tangled in his hair.

“Mhm.. and you're welcome,”

“For what?”

“I'm just giving you my room service.. You know it more than enough,”

I laughed at his comment, “Room service?”

“Mhm, new thing were doin’. Except the only person doing it is me, and the only one receiving it, is you,”

I felt my cheeks heat a bit at the comment, “Really?” I teased him.

Dave nodded, lifting his head to look at me, “Yeah, and I can offer you it again sometime, hm?”

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