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slytherinslut0 · 11 months

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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter One. Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Thèos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: Sub/Dom, Toxic Behaviour, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Begging, DubCon, CNC.

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

You were a good girl, and an exemplary student. One who consistently demonstrated exceptional discipline and commitment. Your dedication to academics was unwavering, as you diligently followed the rules and guidelines, never straying from the prescribed path.

Your singular focus was on nurturing your intellectual curiosity, and you showed no interest in indulging in activities that might distract you from your educational pursuits. Your life was calm, quiet, and focused.

Until, one day everything fucking changed.

———

In the enchanted realm of Hogwarts, there resided a studious and exceptionally bright seventh-year Ravenclaw witch, known for her unwavering dedication to academics and her steadfast commitment to the noble pursuit of knowledge. This young sorceress, a paragon of virtue, refrained from the temptations that often lured her peers, steering clear of parties, alcohol, and the haze of smoke that veiled the Ravenclaw common room during clandestine gatherings.

Her life was meticulously ordered, her goals sharply defined. But the universe had a curious sense of humor, for it threw her into an unexpected affiliation with the most notorious bad boy in Slytherin:

Mattheo fucking Riddle.

He, the embodiment of rebellion, was a stark contrast to her pristine existence. Mattheo's reputation preceded him: a Slytherin troublemaker, one who was almost always found in the midst of chaos. His devil-may-care attitude was a challenge to authority, and there was not one singular individual that could tie him down.

Yet, fate had woven their paths together, forcing the astute young witch to confront the complexity of human nature, unraveling layers of his defiance while simultaneously testing the boundaries of her own steadfast resolve.

And that witch; that poor fucking witch--well, that was you.

———

"Please, Riddle...if you'd take a seat," you ran your tongue along the backside of your teeth, straightening your posture in your chair as you tried to contain your irritation. "...I must express my desire to commence our endeavors prior to the conclusion of the academic term."

"Eager, are we?" Mattheo sneered, sauntering toward the desk painfully fucking slow. "You know, Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither is mastery. I'll sit when I'm fuckin' ready to sit."

His voice was low, the sadistic drawl of his tone making your bones ignite with fury. Gods, he certainly fucking loved testing you.

"And I won't tell you again...call me Mattheo."

You inhaled a sharp breath, flattening out your blue uniform skirt against your thighs as you bit your tongue hard enough to make it bleed.

"Rome may not have been built in a day, but it certainly collapsed in one--now, I won't ask again, Riddle..." you looked up, meeting his dark obsidian eyes, fighting back a sadistic smirk of your own as he narrowed his gaze in challenge. "Take. A. Seat."

The words were clipped behind your teeth with an obvious urgency that shut Mattheo up for a few seconds, the gears turning inside his head as he contemplated how he could one up your little jab--a constant occurrence that seemed to happen every single fucking time you met with him.

At this point, your tutor sessions were an easy seventy percent bickering with the remaining thirty being a half-assed session of one-sided discussion where he mostly offers you fleeting blank stares while zoning you out. You hated that you'd agreed to this, but you knew you needed to get on (and remain on) Professor Dumbledores good side if you wanted a career here at the school after you graduated--and you were so fucking hungry for it you'd do almost anything to solidify your fate.

Even if it meant surrendering your sanity to the hands of Mattheo fucking Riddle.

You chose not to let him, of all individuals, tarnish your path. Your reputation, fragile as it may have been, resembled a tinderbox, and he was the combustible element, ready to erupt at any given moment. This resolve became your steadfast anchor, shaping the direction of your choices.

"You know," Mattheo said as he finally slumped down into the chair across from you, his tousled brown hair falling effortlessly over his forehead. "I was under the impression that the brilliant Ravenclaws such as yourself valued intellect over impulsive haste..." he tilted his head, his gaze scanning every movement of your body as you stared at him. "It was my understanding that impatience was more of a Gryffindor trait."

Your fingers trembled with palpable irritation, yet you understood the imperative need to suppress it. You couldn't afford to reveal just how deeply he affected you, realizing that acknowledging it would subject you to endless taunts and jibes, a fate you were determined to avoid at any cost. This restraint became your shield in moments such as these.

"You wish to discuss house values, Riddle?" You tilted your head, straightening out your posture once again. "Because I, in complete honesty, was under the impression that Slytherins were known for their resourcefulness...your reluctance to cooperate suggests a rather curious lack of ambition."

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, his expression growing icier. "Resourcefulness doesn't mean blindly following every stupid instruction thrown at you, and ambition means choosing the battles worth fighting, not wasting time on pathetic, trivial matters."

With a subtle smirk, he leaned back, hooking his arm on the back of his chair as he eyed your discomfort--seemingly undisturbed by your challenge--and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, somehow knowing he wasn't finished.

And of course, he wasn't. "If you really believe this seemingly-stubborn insistence on when or if I sit reflects a lack of ambition, you clearly misunderstand the depths of Slytherin cunning. We pick our battles wisely, and right now, this isn't one of them."

Your blood pressure surged, the crimson currents in your veins reaching their boiling point. Months of enduring relentless bickering and one-upmanship had pushed you to the edge--this man may be an utter degenerate but he certainly knows how to use his mouth when it matters. You could no longer bear the weight of this incessant game, and in a fleeting moment of frustration, you finally succumbed to the pressure.

You knew this was your breaking point.

"I'm just trying to fucking help you." You said, before you even realized you had. You hardly ever cussed, never out loud--that is. "If you don't want to be here, then get out. I promise you, you won't be hurting my feelings if you do."

He huffed, leaning forward and crossing his hands together on top of the desk as he wet his stupidly plush lips, a devilish grin swallowing his cheeks while he revelled in the fact he'd so clearly fucking won. Yet again.

"No," he said. "I don't think I will."

You clucked your tongue, irritated even further at his response, gaze narrowing ever-so-slightly before you rolled your eyes--brushing off his suffocating arrogance and pulling your textbook out of your bag, slamming it down on top of the desk between your bodies.

"The Grimoire of Arcane Relics?" Mattheo read the title out loud, voice laced with a confused, almost offended undertone. "We don't cover this until the middle of second term..."

You cocked an eyebrow. "And?"

"Seems a bit...hasty, to shove this down my throat so early on," his voice carried a sadistic drawl that nearly made you leap across the desk and choke him unconscious. This man knew how to fucking test you. "Would it not be far more beneficial to proceed in the order the books are taught?"

You drew in another swift breath, the fabric of your navy robes clinging to your form, trembling fingers smoothing out any wrinkles on your button-up blouse as you adjusted it.

"I was unaware..." you said, not bothering to look up. "...that the individual I'd be tutoring this term was in fact a professor, and not a seventh year student..." you glimpsed him now, offering him merely but a slight tilt of your head as you watched his jaw tense. "...I must have been ill-informed, do pardon my ignorance."

"A moment of self-awareness? What a fucking breakthrough for you, Raven...pity it took you so long." He was clasping his hands together on top of the desk with enough force to involuntarily crack his knuckles. "Maybe there's hope for you yet, though I wouldn't hold my fucking breath."

"Please don't," you said, teeth gritting. "We wouldn't want to deprive your already-oxygen-starved brain of any more, now would we? It needs all the help it can get."

Mattheo's gaze sharpened, his lips curving into a teasing smirk, highlighting the scars that adorned them. The effect he had on you was undeniable, a sensation you longed to dismiss more than anything. However, with every passing moment in his presence, resisting the pull of attraction became an increasingly futile endeavour--yes, he was suffocatingly arrogant, but Gods, he was fucking attractive.

And he knew it.

"Quite the fucking mouth on you, I'll admit..." he dropped his voice to a low whisper, so deep it practically rattled your bones as it vibrated through you. "Never met a Ravenclaw with such an attitude problem...maybe I could tutor you on how to fix that issue, once we're done here, of course."

Your stomach twisted, heat spreading through your veins like wildfire. Curse him and his painstakingly arrogant charm. Curse him to bloody hell.

"It'd be a cold day in hell before I take any sort of guidance from you, Riddle..." you whispered, your voice accidentally reverberating as a seductive pitch. "And even then, I'd probably still refrain."

"You don't know when to shut the fuck up, do you?..." his eyes darkened, an evil mischief crawling its way through his irises. "What would daddy Dumbledore think about the way you're speaking to me, huh?"

Your heart stalled. "I-"

Your words faltered as Mattheo stood up, moving leisurely like a predatory creature circling its prey, until he was right beside you. His eyes, sharp as daggers, bored into your skull, and he loomed over you, a sadistic smirk twisting his lips into a cruel curve. The sight sent a shiver down your spine, knotting your stomach with an unsettling mix of fear and desire.

He placed a singular hand on your desk, leaning down closer to your level. "Perhaps I pay him a little visit...perhaps I tell him that you've been missing lessons, that you've been extremely unprofessional...perhaps I somehow fail my next exam...perhaps-"

"Okay, okay!" You panicked, cutting him off. "You've made your point, Riddle...I'm sorry, okay?" The words were fucking painful as you forced them past your teeth, and you swallowed your ego, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Let's just get this over with, please?"

Mattheo huffed, gratified by how effortlessly his threats appeared to compel your submission. The gears turned in his head as he grasped the extent of the power he truly wielded over you. He fully understood that your entire post-graduate career almost certainly depended on his decisions, and he was eagerly anticipating taking action.

"I like the way you say please..." his voice was breathless, his dark eyes consumed by something you couldn't really identify as he slumped down in the chair directly next to you, his sight never once leaving yours. "Do it again."

Your body tensed, immobilized as he inched closer, his penetrating eyes scrutinizing your features with intense focus. It was no secret that Mattheo had been oblivious to your existence until he was placed under your guidance--despite being the most popular Slytherin student in the school, you, a practically invisible Ravenclaw, were easy to overlook. It had taken him over three weeks to even remember your name, a fact he never bothered to acknowledge, let alone use.

But within that time frame, within the time you'd been tutoring him; as much as he drove you mentally fucking insane, you couldn't deny that every time he'd show up for lessons with torn knuckles, cut lips and alcohol radiating from his breath--you couldn't help but to feel something in the pit of your stomach.

Whether that sensation was disgust, arousal, or sheer terror, you couldn't quite pinpoint. It was a feeling that whispered in your veins, urging you to surrender to the dominance he held over you. It screamed for you to let him have his way without resistance, because just as he commanded your obedience, he wielded the same control over the entire damn school. The prospect of defying him felt like a dangerous game you weren't willing to play.

"Riddle-"

He tilted his head, his face dangerously close to yours now, his eyes peering into your soul as he stared. As he wet his lips, his breath turning shallow, you felt a feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach, and one between your thighs as well.

"I said, do it again." His voice was a mere breath as it left his lips, his eyes studying you as though you were a page of a textbook. Not that he'd ever read one of those. "Go on, Raven...beg for me..."

Your breath hitched, and you involuntarily clutched the edges of the wooden chair between your fingers with an indescribable force. You didn't want to admit it--not to Mattheo, not to anyone really--but you were a virgin. You'd never even kissed a boy; your entire life was devoted to your studies...so this...this was extremely fucking new to you.

When you remained silent, Mattheo's eyes darkened even further, turning a shade of obsidian so intense they put even the stormiest midnight skies to shame.

"You want me to keep your perfect little reputation intact, hm?" He breathed, leaning closer. "You want me to help you stay on Dumbledores good side?"

Your throat was more arid than the desert, and you nodded, unable to blink--unable to peel your fucking eyes off of him.

"Then do as I say..." he murmured, a large battered hand finding purchase on your thigh, your entire body involuntarily flinching at the foreign contact. "I want to hear you, Raven."

You stared down at his hand resting lazily over the fabric of your blue uniform skirt--it's massive size swallowing up almost the entirety of your thigh, calloused palm catching on the pleats as it slid upwards, agonizingly slowly--and when he paused, stretching his fingers around the diameter of your thigh the best he could, fingers digging into your flesh as he squeezed; you gasped, involuntarily, and he huffed--bringing his lips dangerously close to your ear.

"One more chance..." he purred, and you could practically hear the smirk on his lips. "You won't like what'll happen-"

"Please!" You snapped, squeezing your thighs together out of pure desperation. "Please, Mattheo...please, let's just get this over with..."

"Mm." He hummed in satisfaction, slowly pulling his hand off of you. "That's fucking right..." he murmured, warm breath tickling your ear. "Nothing is sweeter than your submission, Raven."

You swallowed, not daring to look at him, nodding your head frantically in response as he pulled away, slumping back in the chair--not once peeling his eyes off of you, spreading his legs way-too-fucking wide as he made himself comfortable--he was silent, now, watching your chest rise and fall with each shallow breath, watching the way you squirmed in your chair at his sudden dominance--a dominance that had an effect on you that you couldn't even begin to describe.

And then, before you could even realize what was happening, Mattheo leaned back in, his fingers gripping your jaw and tilting your face towards his--and as you meet his dark, intoxicating eyes, your lungs stalled, entire body shrinking in your seat as he stared at you with such intensity that you felt like he could see right through you.

"From now on, I'm in charge here," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "Understand?"

You swallowed the lump of anxiety in your throat, and watched his darkened amber eyes as they glanced over your lips, lingering there for far too long, before returning back up to meet your gaze--something swimming in his irises that made your stomach twist.

When you were silent, he tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow. "Use your words, Raven..."

"Yes." You squeaked, voice barely audible. "I understand."

He hummed, a devilish smirk crawling across his lips, fingers digging into your jaw with added pressure as he pulled you closer, lips so close you'd touch with a deep enough breath.

"Understand, what?" He breathed, eyes dipping over your lips yet again. "Say my fucking name."

"Mattheo..." you couldn't breathe, couldn't move, could only obey his words as though he was controlling you like a puppet on strings. "I understand, Mattheo."

He huffed, smirking. "Good girl, Raven..." his voice was a mere breath as it left his lips, his full lashes fluttering as he blinked, meeting your eyes. "You learn so quickly...I should have done this months ago..."

When he pulled back, slowly releasing you, air slowly returned to your lungs; not enough to rid the dizziness from your brain but just enough to keep you conscious. Mattheo turned toward the desk now, as though nothing even happened, gesturing for you to start the lesson.

And somehow, you did.

—————-

Chapter two->

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thehauntedetheral · 2 months

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Yandere Boyfriend Jealous of Reader's Nephew

Requests are open !

• You and your yan boyfriend have been in a relationship for quite some time that you are now the ✨unofficial married couple ✨ (Yan bf has proposed many times but you have rejected it because you were to focused on career and pushed wedding ideas for later)

• Your elder sister and her husband has gone to a 2 days weekend trip leaving your 2 years old nephew to you and yan for babysitting.

• You love kids and were having blast with your nephew. After all you are his favourite aunt but your Yan bf is sulking in the corner due to lack of attention you are giving to him. Sometimes you wonder who is a toddler, your nephew or your boyfriend?

• your nephew was sitting in your lap and you both were watching The lion King when your bf sat beside you on couch and took the toddler from your lap to his thinking " I am jealous. This dude is spending too much time with my girl". You looked at him with a confused look while he just gave you a sheepish smile saying "just bonding with my future nephew". Hehe.

• You were saying things like "you are so cute my cutie pie, my sunshine and attacking your nephew with kisses while the toddler just laughs joyously. Meanwhile your boyfriend watching this sighs thinking "I am more cute and good looking than him and yet she is attacking him with kisses instead of me? Such a shame to my handsome face. ( This man is more delusional than all the teenage girls)

• You excused yourself to the bathroom while telling your boyfriend to keep a eye on the toddler. Next thing you know Yan bf has begun a Serious talk with your nephew.

"Listen man, I know she is beautiful and the best. But she is MY WOMAN!! And no. She loves me more!!! Even more than you. I came in her life before. You came later. You can't just take all her time. Just wait a little kiddo because one day I will become your uncle. And you will be the ring bearer in our wedding."

• Desperately waits for this weekend to get over and waiting for your sister to take him back.

• Finally your sister and her husband comes back and take their child while Yan bf finally feels happy you on the other hand are a bit sad.

"Don't worry darling, we will visit him soon" your boyfriend says trying to cheer you up when no way in hell he wants to meet him again atleast for a few months.

"Don't act all innocent. I know you have been sulking and jealous all the weekend. I can't believe you were jealous of a 2 year old that too my own nephew" you said smiling a bit thinking how funny is this.

"Well what can I say I just get jealous of whatever or whoever caughts your attention" he said feeling a bit embarassed that he got caught. He thought he hid his jealousy well. But seems like he can't hide anything from you.

"Hey (y/bf/n). Let's get married and have a baby of our own" you said smiling.

"Is that finally a yes, y/n?" He said while his heart skipping beats and his palms getting covered with sweat for your answer after so many rejections from you.

"Yes. I am damn serious. Spending time with you two as a family has made me realise how badly I want a family of my own. I was too focused on my career neglecting you and our future life. I am sorry." You said with all seriousness.

Yan bf only smiles like a crazy and kisses you passionately. He holds your waist spinning you doing a princess twirl making you giggle. He is the happiest man on earth today! Maybe his nephew is not that bad after all he thought. And yes it's official now your nephew is definitely gonna be the ring bearer in your wedding.

Want part 2 for wedding with nephew as ring bearer and yan boyfriend stressing out about thinking you might back out of wedding last minute? If yes please Let me know through comments.

Requests are open!!

For more yandere Reading:

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nadvs · 2 months

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Hey girl! I’m obsessed with basketball!rafe, your write him so well! On the night of readers first visit in basketball!rafes condo, you said they slept together. Can we have a blurb on that? I NEED to know how that went

thank you so much!! omg yessss. they’ve been long distance and it’s been hard but they miss each other so much so when she finally visits, it’s intense 🤭

based on this fic, mentioned in this blurb! 18+!

» au masterlist

at this point, they’ve been together for almost seven months. and a month and a half of that has been at a distance.

since rafe moved away, it feels like all they do is argue. most of their calls have been tense. they’ve gone days giving each other silent treatment too many times to count.

so when she’s stepping out of the airport gate that late afternoon, she’s more nervous than she is excited for her three-day stay, and she hates that she feels like that.

she finds rafe standing by a pillar, wearing a baseball hat and sunglasses. he’s gotten even bigger, his muscles bulging under his sleeveless shirt. now that he’s signed with the nba, he’s at practice every morning, hitting the gym twice a day, preparing for the season two months away. always busy. often too busy for her.

he doesn’t wait for her to reach him. he helps close the distance, meeting her in an open pocket in the crowd and wrapping her in his arms. he’s holding her so tightly that she can feel his heartbeat on her chest.

she didn’t know what to expect when he saw her, considering how rocky things have been. but this feels like the best possible way he could greet her. he seems happy. the chasm between them is still there, but it’s closing.

rafe nuzzles into her neck, smelling the mix of shampoo and perfume that makes her her, and is so overwhelmed that his throat feels thicker and tears start to form in his eyes. thank fuck he’s wearing shades.

“hey, baby,” he says, muffled.

“hi,” she says softly. “how are you?”

it’s a loaded question. he’s lonely. he didn’t realize how lonely until he held her. he’s stressed. he’s out of his depth. but he settles for, “not bad. you?”

“better now,” she says.

she knows her boyfriend’s life has changed. but it’s not until they’re walking out of the building and he gets stopped by a middle-aged man asking for a photo with him that she realizes just how much things have shifted. the man’s wife shakes her head, saying don’t bother them, but the man says please, it’ll be quick.

rafe obliges, once again grateful he’s wearing shades so nobody sees his teary eyes.

“you’ll take us to the final, won’t you?” the man says, clearly starstruck.

“i’ll try,” he replies. it’s clear to her that rafe’s a little uneasy, which surprises her. she thought he and his ego would love the attention.

“you’re like famous famous,” she teases once they walk far enough away.

“that’s only like, the second time that happened,” he says, not matching her playfulness.

she can tell that he’s trying to downplay it. but the season hasn’t even started and he’s already being recognized. it’s a big deal.

“is that why you’re all disguised?” she realizes.

“yeah,” he admits, seemingly embarrassed. he really didn’t want anyone to recognize him today.

they reach his car in an underground parking garage and she settles in the passenger seat as puts her suitcase in his backseat. he sits and starts the car.

“what have you done with my boyfriend?” she asks, trying to lighten the mood. “how are you not bragging about what just happened?”

“i don’t know,” he says. “you’re here. that’s what i’m focused on. and who knows… i could be one of those guys who gets one contract and then burns out. better not to get used to all that.”

her eyebrows knit together. he’s being short with her. and he’s never spoken like this. she’s seen him unsure about himself only a few times before. he was painfully nervous on draft night. but he never mentioned anything about his career burning out. this isn’t the man she knows.

“you’re a great player,” she tells him. “you won’t burn out.”

he nods unconvincingly and shifts the car into reverse, trying to avoid this heavy of a conversation right away. she knows him well enough to know what he’s doing. she puts her hand on his.

“hey,” she says softly. “wait a second.”

he sighs, his throat thickening again. he puts the car in park and turns it off.

“you good?” she asks.

he pinches the bridge of his nose. she realizes that his hand is trembling. he finally takes his sunglasses off and rubs his eyes, wiping at them.

“i’m tired,” he admits.

she stares at him through worried eyes.

“i’m sorry. we’ll take it easy tonight,” she tells him. “we can just order food and watch tv and go to bed early. it’s going to be okay.”

he nods, licking his lips nervously.

“it makes sense if you’re overwhelmed. it’s a lot of pressure. your life is so different now,” she says. “and i know i was part of the old one, but i want to be part of this new one, too, okay? i’m here for you.”

she’s not saying it solely to reassure him. she realizes she’s hoping he’ll reassure her back. things are still off between them. she can feel it. maybe it’s because she’s slowly drifting into the past to him. maybe he won’t carry her into his new life.

rafe is speechless. his chest hurts. he hates that she would insinuate that he doesn’t have a place for her. that she has any doubts at all. he’s the one who called her after their last big argument, following days of not talking to each other. he’s still bitter about it. he keeps putting up a fight, yet it’s like she thinks she’s the only one trying.

“the only way to fail is to give up, right?” she says.

rafe snorts.

“where’d you read that?” he says mockingly. cutting.

he regrets it immediately. she sits straighter, creating distance between them.

“i’m sorry,” he says. “i’m just... i want you here. i do. i’m already thinking about how you’re going to leave and it sucks. i’m just so… on edge.”

“so, your way to handle it is by being mean to me like, a minute after i get here?” she asks. his knee-jerk reaction to stress has always been to be rude and combative. it’s her least favorite thing about him.

“my head’s not right. i’m sorry.”

even though she’s hurt and bitter, she pushes past it and nods.

“let’s start over,” she says. “i can tell you all about my flight. real exciting stuff.”

he finally cracks a genuine smile.

when they make it to rafe’s penthouse, she’s shocked. she saw the view of the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows over their facetime calls, but the real thing doesn’t compare. it’s unreal, the way the setting sun is glistening over the skyline.

it’s crazy. she’s stayed right where she’s been since she met him, on the same campus doing the same things, but now he’s here. the stinging anxiety hits her again that maybe he’ll leave her in the past.

“this is really nice,” she says.

rafe gazes at her as she looks out the window. he’s felt out of place since he got here. the dynamic with his new team is nothing like it was back in college. this condo feels more like a hotel instead of his home.

but with her here, the most important piece of all he knows, the place doesn’t feel cold anymore.

he looks out at the view. it is nice. but it’s been hard to appreciate it since there’s been a weight living over him, blurring things.

“you can continue the tour now,” she says.

he offers her his hand. she takes it. his palm is rough and calloused from all his training.

as she paces through the condo, everything about the place is stunning. bare, but stunning.

“i can help you decorate if you want,” she offers as they travel down the hallway. “wanna go shopping tomorrow?”

“yeah,” he agrees. something as mundane as shopping for decor excites him simply because it’ll be with her.

they reach his bedroom. the california king bed is centered against the back wall. the room offers another beautiful view with a balcony.

“you ever sit out there in the morning? watch the sunrise?” she asks, stepping towards the open balcony door. she can hear the dull roar of cars zooming through the massive freeway laid out far below.

“nah, i go straight to practice,” rafe says. “and on days off, i just sleep in.”

“right,” she recalls. he gets up almost every morning before the sun rises. his schedule has been brutal. she feels guilty for fighting with him about how hard it’s been to schedule calls with him. she pictured him living a glamorous life, forgetting all about her. but he just seems isolated. exhausted.

she turns to face him again, gazing around the characterless room.

“would you want pictures in here? maybe some art on the walls?” she asks.

“i thought decorating started tomorrow?” rafe teases. she loves that he’s seeming to ease up a bit.

“can never be too prepared.” he smirks, looking down at her with a tired, but relaxed expression.

“i haven’t had time to do anything with the place,” he says. “and i wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“all good,” she says. “you stick to basketball, i’ll stick to making this place look like someone actually lives in it.”

“deal,” he says with a soft laugh.

she smiles. her eyes drift down, noticing faint white lines on his shoulders under his sleeveless shirt. she traces her fingers over the new stretch marks.

“they’re not working you too hard, are they?” she asks.

her tender touch makes rafe’s body go hot. she feels it immediately, how the tension between them has shifted.

“no,” he mumbles. “the trainer said i actually need to slow down on the lifting. i can’t get too heavy. i won’t be able to run as fast.”

“so, what i’m hearing is you need a few rest days,” she says with a cute shrug. “you need to relax. it’s for the good of your game.”

he chuckles. within minutes of getting home, his girl makes everything better.

“thank you for coming,” he says sincerely, his hands finding her hips. her heart feels ten times lighter.

“for getting on a flight you booked? in first class? to live in your penthouse?” she says. “you’re welcome. big sacrifice.”

rafe smirks at her again, leaning closer. their lips press in a slow, sweet, long kiss. he pulls back once he feels her hand on his cheek.

“you stressed out, baby?” she whispers. his eyes are still closed an he only nods, grimacing. she strokes his cheek with her thumb.

“you want me to help you relax?” she says. he leans lower, his forehead on hers. his stomach is numb. his boxers suddenly feel too tight.

“yeah.” rafe’s tone is low. needy.

“lie down,” she tells him. “i’ll make you feel better.”

his entire body is buzzing. once he’s on his back in his bed, they’re slowly pulling off each other’s clothes.

she thought when they’d inevitably get into bed, it’d be impatient and rushed, but every movement is careful. they want to savor each other. it’s so much better this way.

she leads him to lie on his pillow when he’s left in his boxers and she’s in her panties. she pulls down his boxers, watching him spring out, the coil in her body already tightened to its limit. she missed him so badly.

she holds him at his base, meeting his eyes as she slowly takes the tip in her mouth. she watches his toned body curve as he bucks his hips with a groan.

“fuck,” he whispers. “wait, wait.”

he shifts to his side, turning his nightstand lamp on so that he can see her better, instead of doing this in the dim of the sunset.

he lies back down, placing eager fingers at her roots, desperately guiding her back to where she was.

their eyes lock as she lowers again, her tongue hot against him, slowly sinking until she has all of him in her mouth. she softly gags and pulls back, leaving his length wet with her spit.

“you’ve been working so hard, hmm?” she asks, looking at him as she palms him slowly, dragging her hand over his slick hardness.

“yeah,” he says, voice strained. “fuck, i missed you so much.”

she feels better hearing his words. all the tension between them has dissipated, at least for now.

“i missed you, too,” she whispers. she wraps her lips around him again, feeling him twitch against the inside of her cheek.

rafe can’t take his eyes off of her. she moves slowly, carefully, her tongue flicking around him, her wrist twisting and stroking. his grip is tight at the roots of her hair as she starts to move faster.

he can feel himself getting closer. he doesn’t want to finish like this.

“come here,” he murmurs, cradling her head, leading her closer.

she obeys, hovering over him on her knees. his hands drag over her ass, running over the lace of her panties, squeezing hard as she lowers to press her lips on his.

they kiss hard and slow, over and over until she can’t anymore, breathless and grinding on him. his thumbs loop under the band of her underwear, pushing the fabric down.

she wriggles out of the lace and he grasps her waist to turn her onto her back, kissing her again, finding her wrists and pinning them tightly against his bed.

“i don’t think i’ll last long,” he rasps against her mouth.

“that’s okay,” she says. “i just want you to feel good.”

he so badly wants to tell her he loves her. but they’ve never taken that step, and if he does take it and she doesn’t follow, he might not survive the fall.

instead, he moves to rest his hand between her legs, inhaling sharply once he feels how wet she is.

“fucking dripping for me,” he praises. she spreads her legs wider and he trails up to her clit, starting to trace circles.

she arches her back, pushing against his hand, already getting close. her body is just as desperate and impatient for it as his is.

“i’m close,” she whispers within seconds, her eyes shut. he stares at her in awe, so damn pleased that he can do this to her and get her there so quickly.

“yeah? you gonna come on my hand?”

“yes, yes,” she breathes, her lips parted. “don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

rafe wants to kiss her, but seeing her pretty face twisting in pleasure is too good to miss. one hand keeps her wrist pinned above her head while the other works with fast, firm movements, bringing her closer.

“i can’t wait to be inside you,” he groans. “you’re all i think about, you know that?”

she dips her head back, a soft moan spilling out of her mouth as she unravels, her body weakening with her orgasm. it hits her so hard that she trembles more than ever before.

she takes a moment to collect herself, then finds the strength to sit up just enough to grip him, guiding him to press against her. he groans as he starts to sink in her and she links her legs around him, pulling him in.

she presses her free hand against the head of his bedframe to steady herself so he can slam into her without any recoil, promising him the best sensation she can give him.

with one hand on her jaw and the other on her palm, interlacing his fingers with hers, he bottoms out, grunting against her ear.

“as hard as you want,” she whispers. “you know i can take it.”

her words make him dizzy. he doesn’t build up to the pace. suddenly, their slow, patient movements are gone, and he starts to thrust in and out of her fast and rough, to the hilt every time because of the way she’s keeping herself anchored against his headboard.

it’s like he’s drowning in her. he doesn’t want to come up for air. his breaths grow more shallow, his skin gets clammier, his pulse speeds up.

his bed is shaking with every slam, hitting deep inside her, wrapped in her heat and never wanting it to end. he squeezes her hand, wishing she knew just how grateful he is for her. not just for this. for everything.

“you’re mine,” he rasps. she tightens her legs around him, looking up at him as his handsome, sharp features crease in pleasure. “you belong to me.”

“yes,” she whispers. “i do. i do.”

rafe leans down to kiss her, his body going tight. she feels him grow harder, the pressure outright perfect, and he groans into her mouth as he comes, filling her with his heat.

he collapses on her, heavier than he was the last time they slept together. but she keeps her legs linked around him, withstanding the weight, running her hand down the curve of his spine while the other stays interlaced with his.

he’s panting hard. and he can’t control it when tears sting his eyes. she notices him shuddering, and she squeezes him tighter, kissing his cheek over and over again, her heart breaking for him.

“you okay, baby?” she whispers.

“yeah,” he says, and for once, he’s being honest about it.

all of this has been so hard and discombobulating, but with her here, life feels easy. and finally, he’s confident in something again. he knows they’ll make it. there’s no way they can’t.

“yeah,” he repeats. “hungry.”

she softly laughs, moving to wrap both arms around him. he’s so big and hard and heavy, but she tries her best to hold him, to comfort him.

“let’s get dinner,” she says. she knows his diet has been strict. “cheat day?”

rafe smirks against her neck. he didn’t know how badly he needed a vacation, and that he didn’t even have to leave his house to feel like he’s on one. he just needs her.

#ask #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n

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solecize · 2 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (5)

ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: a ㅤㅤㅤ year of a death of a thousand cuts because, no matter what comes your way, saying goodbye is never an option. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, fake dating, and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), both main characters are very flawed, violence, infidelity, foul language, substance use (illegal drugs) 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of real-life events. extra warning for violent acts in a relationship (throwing objects at the wall) ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤjoin the taglist here! ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤm.list | previous | next

stop, you're losin' me

i can't find a pulse

my heart won't start anymore

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: new kbs variety show announced - first mc revealed to be s.irens' novaㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ january 2017

the memories of bora bora stuck to you like maple syrup on your hands for years. it was a haunting notion to consider the trip the beginning of the end. you remember the way the golden sand stretched out across the water for what felt like forever, as it shimmered and sparkled under the relentless sun. you could hear jungkook’s laughter echoing in your ears like a melody of a song that looped in your head. the sharpest image of that week glared at you angrily - the first serious fight that you ever got into with your boyfriend.

it was a given that you and jungkook butted heads like any other long-term couple, but you found yourself stomping away to nayoung’s hotel room at the end of the third night with a bundle of clothes in your hands and tear-stained cheeks.

when she swung the door open, her heavy lids indicated that she was about to burst into a complaint about you waking her up. instead, nayoung’s eyes jolted open when they read the expression on your face.

“what happened?” she asked.

you fought a wail, making sure to shove any sort of crying down your throat because god knows you would never stop if you started. nayoung frowned and opened the door wider, gesturing for you to come in.

her room was always messy at the dorms and you weren’t shocked to find her hotel room in a similar state of disarray. however, it beat the way you trashed the room you’d been sharing with jungkook. clothes on the floor, random objects hurled at the wall, and even a lamp abandoned on the floor. the anger you felt was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. you admitted this to nayoung, who looked at you like you had two heads.

“yeah, we fought and i may have knocked some things over. . . “

your temperament was definitely an issue to be discussed, but in your eyes, there were more pressing problems to address. when nayoung made room for you to sit on the left side of the bed, you immediately tucked yourself under the covers and let a few tears stream down your face.

she frowned. “what were you guys fighting about?”

“jungkook thinks that i’m always too focused on work,” you explained, swiping at your face. “he said i don’t make enough time for him.”

at this point, you were four years into debut and permanently stuck in the fast lane. a few major events occurred in your career recently that changed the trajectory of your group’s popularity - the first being the departure of miseul. it was an unfortunate situation, as she requested the termination of her contract to go back to her hometown, where her grandmother was ill. the company then replaced her with a new girl, cara, who you did not get along with. there was no choice in the matter, though, and your group’s first comeback with the new lineup happened earlier that year.

another signficant dynamic change was nayoung’s quick rise to stardom as an actress. she’d starred in a drama that was one of the most popular of all time on mbc and as a result, grew in popularity that arguably surpassed your group. she had endorsements and jobs coming left and right, which was prioritized by your company over the group’s endeavours.

it was a bitter feeling, being overshadowed by both your own group mate and boyfriend, but you instead focused on working harder and taking on every project you could. even with bts’ growing status and schedules, you found yourself making less and less time for jungkook and his argument was that he always did more for the relationship than you did.

“focused on work? we’re literally on vacation.” nayoung sighed, coming into bed with you. “i’m glad you’re here, though, y/n. i feel like i haven’t seen you since we landed.”

agreeing to the bora bora trip was a reluctant decision, as it was originally just supposed to be a composition of your and jungkook’s friends. you only wanted to bring nayoung and sooah, until the latter convinced you to ask cara to tag along, since they didn’t want to leave her out. the trip was intended to be the time for you to bond with jungkook, but you were now put into a position to also bond with your group members, especially since things hadn’t really been the same with the girls since miseul left.

“nayoung, we’re still friends right?” you asked meekly, feeling pathetic even as you said it.

her shoulders dropped and she pulled you into an embrace. “of course we are! why would you say that?”

“ever since we stopped living with each other and since miseul left. . .” you trailed off, tearing away. “i feel like the group sees each other as just coworkers or something.”

you were now twenty years old and experiencing life independently. the same was said for your group mates, as you were all now off doing your own things and only reuniting once or twice a year for a comeback. at some point, you considered these girls sisters. now, those feelings felt miles away. even the bora bora trip felt forced.

“y/n,” nayoung’s tone grew serious. “i’m always going to be here for you.”

this would be the last time that s.irens would spend time together outside of work. sooah and nayoung’s relationship soured over the years to the point where they no longer spoke by 2020 - a result of merely growing up and growing out of childhood friendships. you also began building resentment against nayoung, who would become the country’s it girl in no time and stopped publicly acknowledging that she was in a girl group. you eventually no longer considered her a friend, deciding you did not want her arrogance in your life. miseul only texted you once a year to say happy birthday. this was the breakdown of the only support system you had.

when morning came after staying up until dawn with nayoung, you found yourself sneaking back into your and jungkook’s shared hotel room. you were surprised to see that he was not in bed, but felt a salty breeze stream in from the balcony.

you stepped forward and saw jungkook sitting down, eyes fixed on the aquamarine of the beach ahead. when you opened the door wider to let yourself out, he already knew it was you.

“i’m sorry, bug,” he immediately said, too ashamed to look at you.

you were convinced that it was your hothead that drove the majority of the argument and his apology made your heart sink. you were the one who threw things at the wall and spiralled without looking back. he shot back with his own words, but you knew that you were the one who started it.

without warning, you sat right beside jungkook and wrapped your arms around his back. you put your chin on his shoulder and he physically relaxed, as if he’d been carrying sandbags for days. you whispered an apology against his neck and held back tears.

“you’re right. i’ve been a horrible girlfriend.” you hated how bitter the words tasted. “i’m going to do my best to fix my work-life balance. you try so hard for me.”

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: the 2017 edition of the idol star ahtletic competition now filming in goyang!ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤjanuary 2017

you never felt at fault for your hot temper when jungkook’s jealous eye followed you like a lost puppy. it was just as much as a problem as your own shortcomings and it always felt like a battle of who’s more in the wrong between you two.

everyone looked forward to each year’s edition of the idol star athletic championsips, a kind break amidst the hustle and bustle of a regular schedule. some of the more active idols took the games quite seriously, but for you and the rest of s.irens, it was several days of filming that were ultimately far more chill than any of your regular promotional activities. coming off the bora bora trip, a little relay race was next to nothing in terms of effort.

your group’s event was the last of the day, which left you and nayoung wandering around the goyang gymnasium for the meantime. you were texting jungkook to see if he was also free, when nayoung was called over by some individuals.

it was in a tent area away from the view of the spectators and cameras, which you were grateful for at an event where fans watched idols like hawks.

“nayoung! and nova!”

exo’s leader was known in the community to be charming and well-spoken, which didn’t surprise you when you found yourself struck immediately. you’d seen him around and of course watched him on television and online, but you could now see up close just how different the aura of a top boy group was. beside him was his fellow group members and participants for the archery event later that day, who were sehun and chanyeol.

“y/n, this is junmyeon and sehun and chanyeol,” nayoung introduced, beaming. it seemed like her rise in popularity meant that she had begun rubbing elbows with a-list idols like exo.

you mirrored her smile. “nice to meet you all. y/n is fine, just call me that,” you insisted, as the three of you exchanged bows.

unlike your fellow group members, you didn’t find yourself to be much of a social butterfly. you hung out with them and your boyfriend - occasionally your boyfriend’s friends. yet, somehow, others knew you. sehun asked if you were doing archery again this year, which you weren’t. junmyeon complimented your group’s last release. chanyeol mentioned running into miseul at the airport the other day.

as the pleasantries were made, the floor rumbled with the roar of fans across the stands. in the middle of the arena, the rhythmic gymnastics event was set to begin and all eyes were trained on the competition. that is, all eyes except junmyeon’s, whose own eyes remained fixated on you. it was a foreign sensation to feel your heart leap.

“excited for the day ahead?” strained chanyeol, struggling to be heard over the mcs talking.

nayoung replied, “yeah! i think our group has a good shot at the relay event!”

that was false, since you knew sooah was prone to tripping and falling, but you kept that to yourself with a muffled snicker.

“it’s definitely going to be a long day. . .” sehun said, yawning.

nayoung blew some hair out of her face. “at least it’s only one day of filmng this year.”

you enjoyed participating in isac each year, as it was mostly fun and games, but it was stressful knowing that cameras were constantly on you. each day of filming felt like the equivalent of a week when you anticipated random fancams of you on the internet the next day, probably doing mundane things like saying hi to a member of exid.

junmyeon spoke, “it’s going to be a long day, but there’s a thing happening at kc lounge tonight after filming and a bunch of our team is going to be there. chanyeol reserved a whole section for us - you should come.” it took you a second to realize he was now boldly holding out his phone.

although the words were meant to address both you and nayoung, he was directly facing you and only looked at you when he asked. you were caught off guard, having trouble finding the words to respond. junmyeon’s eyes were soft and his smile was inviting - you weren’t an idiot. you knew when an invitation was beyond friendly. even nayoung was side-eying you, following the inquiry.

“uhm - “

“i’d love to see you there.” it was hard to miss the once over he gave you, as his boys let out a low whistle at his suaveness. you couldn't help but notice the pink tint spreading across your cheeks.

the attention felt nice. you’d never been approached so boldly by a senior idol before. and he was hot. you didn’t know what to say, except that you were lingering in this conversation for way too long than acceptable.

thankfully, the vibration of your own phone interrupted whatever sentence you were to form next. with a glance at the screen, the picture of you and jungkook stared back at you and you were left dumbfounded. why was he calling you in the middle of a live event?

you said, “sorry, i think i’m being called.”

nayoung nudged you, prompting you to turn around and see that jungkook was staring directly at you from a few tents away. his expression was stone-cold and eyes burned in your direction. realizing what it looked like to him with junmyeon basically asking for your number, you groaned.

“you think it’s safe for me to walk over there?” you muttered into nayoung’s ear, ignoring the curious stares of the three exo members in front of you. junmyeon had now slowly retracted his phone away, now also noticing jungkook looking your way.

nayoung looked around. “maybe if you walk behind the tents, up against the wall,” she suggested, not missing jungkook either.

it wasn’t too bad of timing either, since the competition was mid-event and most individuals were preoccupied with that. you wouldn’t have approached him in public otherwise.

junmyeon seemed to understand what was going on and he only offered a small smile. “well, let me know. we’re stuck here all day, anyway,” he chuckled.

you thanked him and excused yourself, following nayoung’s direction to discreetly make your way over to jungkook’s tent.

other than him, a few members of bts lingered around the tent, presumably warming up for their event later on in the day. well, that’s what you thought they were doing before, as they were now looking towards you and jungkook, probably witnessing the same interaction as your boyfriend. jungkook’s arms were folded across his chest when you approached and you were already not in the mood.

“meet me in that hall,” you said as quickly and loudly as you could, not wanting an audience.

you turned around without waiting for an answer and jungkook waited several beats before trailing behind, just in case. the two of you found yourselves in the tunnel leading into the main stadium area, which was thankfully empty.

you were surprised that jungkook’s fuse was triggered, as you two just shared a nice dinner date the night before with no issues. however, the more you thought about it, his jealousy issues were rising recently - from one wrong stare at a party by a monsta x member the other night to being asked out by a music producer that worked with s.irens. each interaction was met with rage.

“are you alright?” you questioned, once you were out of earshot and eyesight from anyone.

“were they being weird to you?” jungkook instantly replied, jaw clenched.

you furrowed your eyebrows. “what? no,” you said. “they were just being friendly - “

“you should stay away from exo, i wouldn’t trust a lot of those guys.”

“isn’t taehyung friends with some of them?” you dryly shot back, but he ignored your sentiment and continued ranting about how male idols weren’t to be trusted.

obviously, you and him both knew what he was actually annoyed about. you stood your ground, as you knew you didn’t do anything wrong. it was a harmless interaction and you didn’t expect the entire idol community to know that you and jungkook were dating - well, actually, you kind of did and it was a little bit weird to get the invite in such a flirtatious way, but you were not going to take part. it was shut down immediately, but here you were.

after another minute of jungkook going on about the interaction, you interrupted him by abruptly placing a kiss on his cheek. he froze.

“stop it. i’m fine. he was just being nice,” you sighed, looking around to make sure nobody was hiding in the shadows. “now, can we go back to our jobs, jungkook?”

though your boyfriend was normally quite relentless about these things, your words did snap him back to the reality in which you were putting your very careers at risk to even have this hushed conversations in the shadows. isac was all fun and games, but you were on the clock with cameras in every corner possible. your slight touch of affection seemed to also help, as jungkook visibly eased when you kissed him on the cheek.

he adjusted his sweatshirt and sighed. “alright. i’m sorry.”

and that was the end of that conversation, but another faded memory lost in the chaos of 2017.

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: the 2017 bts live trilogy episode III (final chapter): the wings tour to commence next weekㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤfebruary 2017

the bland eggshell walls of the bighit entertainment headquarters didn’t faze you. at the very beginning, it was unsettling just how hollow the corridors and nooks appeared to be, as if the surroundings belonged in a prison. you’d been in and out of the hallways over the past years, albeit often for very few reasons that were pleasant. though it was a huge maze, you memorized the path on floor seventeen.

upon hearing the loud ding and the metal doors sliding open with ease, you stepped onto the said floor with nothing less than pure anger bubbling in your veins. you clearly made your way up here — through traffic and past the security at the front desk who always mistook you for a crazed fan — with a purpose. you weren’t going to rest until you gave jeon jungkook a piece of your mind. releasing a long sigh, the employees who took a glance up and saw the infuriated expression on your face didn’t even bother stopping you. this had become routine.

the distinct voices of his group members, combined with one of the group’s tracks amplified through speakers and footsteps squeaking on the hardwood floors in immaculate unison, were enough to tell you that he was here.

“jeon jungkook.”

the chorus to ‘spring day’ came to a sudden halt. hoseok was the first person to take notice of you and stopped dancing when you appeared at the doorway. the others noticed fast and when jungkook finally looked up, someone had already stopped the music.

the look shared by his group mates seemed to read that they knew exactly what he was in trouble for. the prompt end of the music seemed to indicate so. a scared expression flashed on jungkook’s face upon reading your own stone-cold one.

last time this happened was when you found a pack of cigarettes in one of your boyfriend’s jackets, after he swore up and down to you that he was quitting nicotine. another time was because of him forgetting that you had a date that night. today, the rage running through your veins was due to something new.

jungkook visibly winced every time you said his full name aloud and here, he nearly shuddered at the sound. his head hung low, like a puppy. he knew what he did wrong this time.

“i’ll be right back,” you heard him mutter to namjoon who could only nod empathetically, arms folded across his chest as he observed the scene.

for jungkook’s sake, the group broke out into forced conversation to distract from the two of you. seokjin pretended to ask hoseok for help with the choreography and taehyung wanted to suddenly show the rest of the group a video on his phone. meanwhile, the youngest of the group wordlessly followed you out into the hallway.

“where were you last night?”

the question was immediate, not even waiting for jungkook to shut the door behind him. he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

jungkook asked, “did you really have to come all the way here to have this conversation with me?” exasperation laced his words like a bow, but you were unfazed.

“well, clearly i don’t know when and where you’re busy,” you shot back, “so i had no choice but to come here.”

he opened his mouth to speak again, but you cut him off by raising your phone to eye-level. on the screen was the private instagram of cha eunwoo, who posted several slides of content of cheonsa lounge in gangnam. the very first picture was him and jungkook, clutching a shot glass of dark liquor in one hand and a vape in another. upon scanning the screen, where you proceeded to move through the instagram post - one picture of jungkook posing with eunwoo and the bottle girls from the club and the next being jungkook holding a bottle of champagne - silence filled the air.

jungkook’s shoulders drop in defeat. “i’m sorry, it was a last minute thing - “

“how last minute?! i called you at ten last night, asking if we could have a movie night in,” you cut him off, “and you said you were feeling sick! you don’t look so sick in these photos, huh?”

“i was feeling sick, i swear!” he exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “the boys called me an hour after that and guilt-tripped me into coming - “

“oh, please.”

jungkook huffed. “i’m telling the truth!””

if you were being honest with yourself, it wasn’t a far-fetched idea that jungkook’s boys did, in fact, drag him out to the club the night before. regardless of that, you were more upset with the fact that he declined you, but said yes to his friends.

“is a night in with me too boring for you now?” you questioned, jaw clenched. “if you were going out, you could have at least asked me to come!”

“you don’t have to come out every time with me, y/n, i need time with my friends,” he replied and sighed once more.

this made you even more mad. “when did i say you can’t have time with your friends?!” you didn’t like the fact that jungkook was making you out to be such a control freak.

jungkook groaned. “i didn’t say that!”

nothing had been the same since the bora bora trip earlier that year. sure, you and jungkook fought like any other couple, but it was never this bad and this frequent. it was as if the fight in the hotel was the first domino to a cascade of falls. coupled with your increasingly exhausting schedules and other factors affecting your relationship, such as your career-driven mindset that was prioritized over everything and bts’ rise to international fame, it was only natural that you and jungkook would only drift farther apart.

yet, neither of you were ready to walk away. as you and jungkook continued your back and forth for several more minutes to come in the darkened hallway of bighit entertainment, you could hear the opening notes to spring day once more - his fellow members presumably giving up on waiting for him to return before resuming practice.

i miss you, was the opening line to spring day and it physically hurt your heart to listen to, as jungkook stood just a few feet away from you and still seemed so far away. the two of you gave each other the silent treatment for the next week after.

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: s.irens fans grow restless as the group's comeback is pushed once again, allegedly to accomodate main dancer go nayoung's filming schedule for mbc's 'far away' dramaㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ september 2017

for once, you and jungkook were not getting hazy heads amidst the lights of a nightclub or a packed party, but a charity ball. held at the spacious estate of a member of the family behind hyundai, it was a sight to behold and made jungkook forget that he was in the middle of seoul. he found himself in the back gardens, underneath a marble gazebo that overlooked the lush flowers and twinkling lights of the area. they shone like stars, string lights that hung all around the gardens, and jungkook wished he could share this sight with you.

things were fuzzy with you, but jungkook held out hope that you would be able to pick up the pieces and fix things soon. after a string of fights the past few months, you had finally reached your wits’ end. it was an imploding, inevitable time bomb that was going to set off sooner rather than later. you and jungkook were beginning to butt heads more than not and one random thursday night, it was d-day.

there weren’t too many places in the city that would be safe for even just a normal stroll with your boyfriend, which was an unfortunate truth that jungkook had to swallow for years on end. more than anything in the world, he wanted to flaunt you to the whole world to show everyone just how lucky he was. he was so in love with you and that was never going to change.

from the moment he met you, he was smitten with your beauty and the nail in the coffin was your addicting personality that he was so naturally in sync with. to have someone so incredibly bewitching as his best friend, all jungkook ever wanted to do was scream to the world that you were his girlfriend.

instead, your date nights since the turn of your early twenties consisted of outings like secluded nature walks, friends’ homes, long drives, and if you were careful, the corner store at night. maybe that was why jungkook loved enjoying the seoul nightlife with you - it was a safe space where you could be with each other and with each other, the most important thing other than pounding music and letting alcohol wash away your worries.

your last date was no different, as jungkook suggested to take a walk along the han river. you had no qualms about the suggestion - though, evaluating the place as a date wasn’t the catalyst to your agreement. you knew that there was a conversation to be had and you could have done in anywhere at that point. it’d been over two weeks since you last saw each other, as missed opportunities sipped from your fingers to sit jungkook down and have a talk about your relationship with him.

jungkook saw you from a mile away - it was hard not to when you were literally wearing one of his hoodies. even though it’d felt like forever since the dna promotions began taking over his life and you were off filming a drama, he could always spot you in a crowded room in just seconds. you were waiting by the water, looking off into the seoul night skyline. a black baseball cap hid most of your face and you were smoking a cigarette - a habit that you eventually picked up from jungkook, despite initially chewing him out for the unhealthy habit. you eventually decided that you were also too overworked to not have a vice.

on the other hand, jungkook had been cold turkey for a whole month. he’d grown disappointed of himself for giving in so often on ruining his health, especially as a singer. a frown tugged at his lips when he approached you, just as you were finishing up.

your eyes always brightened when you saw jungkook, but tonight, you saw something in his own that prevented it. offering a small smile, you walked closer up without a hint of a light in your eyes.

“hi kookie,” you whispered and pulled him into a tight embrace. jungkook always loved your scent - a strong cinnamon and vanilla smell that warmed his heart, even on breezy autumn nights like this one.

his face was in your hair, holding you just as tight, when he realized something. something odd.

jungkook stepped half a foot apart when the hug concluded, examining your features. “there’s something wrong, isn’t there?” he asked, as the anxiety came to settle in after you chose to hug him instead of kiss kim.

your lips pressed into a thin line and he knew. you insisted that you two hold hands during this walk, which he wanted to refuse, but eventually decided to remain quiet about it. hands clasped, you two began to stroll south of the river.

for a bit, you and jungkook bantered about how you stole his hoodie without him even realizing it. then, an uncomfortable silenced emerged, as you both could only listen to the light stream of the han and the passing cars nearby.

it was jungkook that said something first.

you let him speak freely because on any other day, it would be a battle marked by avoidance and stonewalling. jungkook had suddenly come to a stop in the middle of the path, after the silence became too grand for him. he reached his limit, too.

“we should take a break.”

things had been getting weird for a while now between the two of you. you were always fighting and when you weren't fighting, it was when jungkook was overseas, away on the wings tour.

that’s when your heart began racing. “a break? you want to separate?”

“we obviously can’t be together. this isn’t working out. we clash too much and we’re always screaming at each other and we’re risking our jobs and - fuck, i’m sorry.”

the rant was cut short when jungkook, after pacing back and forth as he spiralled with each word, paused in his tracks at the sight of tears streaming abundantly down your cheeks. he stopped and immediately felt the ball of anxiety at the bottom of his stomach transfigure into a heavy dread accentuated by guilt, weighing heavy on the inside. his chest began hurting and apologies fell from his lips, as he took you right back into his arms.

“i love you, i know it’s been hard, but we can’t break up,” you hiccuped in between each short breath, barely audible when your crying face was pressed up against jungkook’s chest. “do-do you really feel that way?”

jungkook rapidly shook his head, not even taking time to think about it. “no, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it. i’m sorry!” he cooed, rocking you back and forth.

after a moment of just crying from the two of you, you were finally able to catch your breath and rubbed jungkook’s back, hoping it would help him catch his. his breathing eventually slowed back to normal.

“but, i think you’re right. . .” your voice suddenly emerged, barely above a whisper. “i don’t want to lose you. . .but we need space.”

“i’d do anything to save this relationship,” jungkook replied and the statement brought you an unknown feeling, spreading across your mind. “whatever you think is best. i can’t lose my best friend - let’s take some time and come back stronger.”

and that was the agreement. it had been just about a month since it happened and there was no progress since. your and jungkook’s schedules were busier than ever and it was only a coincidence that you both ended up at the same charity ball.

for the first time in a long time, seeing you felt like remnants of a far away memory - shattered glass pieces of your relationship dancing in the air that, if jungkook tried hard enough, could be grasped at and remembered. your hair was now blonde and made longer with extensions, brushing just above your tailbone. you wore a periwinkle evening dress, soft satin mirroring the chandeliers on the high ceilings and fanned out into a flattering mermaid tail shape. jungkook hadn’t seen you with such makeup before, as you wore a cherry red lip and a sharp cateye. you looked different. . .good, but different.

jungkook saw you in the foyer, mingling with some chaebols and looking bored. jungkook noticed that you came with sooah, presumably to represent s.irens or your company as a whole, but neither of you so much as looked at each other. jungkook grew worried that you were slowly isolating yourself from your friends. he was also worried that your bored eyes were instead tired eyes from such a hectic schedule.

there wasn’t any way that jungkook was going to get your attention in that moment, so he instead carried on with his night as normal. he greeted friends, looked for opportunities to network, and helped himself to the fine wine. after an hour, he wandered outside to get some fresh air. then, he looked out at the beauty of the gardens and thought of you, as he strolled down the cobblestone path with a glass of red in one hand.

he wasn’t sure how long he’d been pondering for under the gazebo, until he saw the time of his watch and realized that it was probably time for dinner to be served. jungkook sighed, stepping out of the gazebo to make his way back inside the manor, sneaking one more look at the calming moon and hoping to run into you at the party.

jungkook’s wishes were met sooner than expected, as he spotted you by a tucked away corner, smiling from ear to ear. he was taken aback to see the source of your giggling, being some guy he knew from the korean national football team. one of their best players, actually, as jungkook was quite a fan. he was one of the most popular athletes in the country, it was no surprise that he’d be brushing elbows with other a-listers at this charity ball. jungkook hand clenched into a fist, watching the two of you flirt away from everyone else.

throughout your years together, jungkook was always a bit of a possessive type. in the way you were far from perfect, he also understood his own flaws. i mean there was quite a lot, like anyone else - he was also bad at communicating his feelings, often shutting down, and cared a lot about appearances.

none of that mattered in this moment, as he began walking straight toward you.

in your defense, you genuinely believed that space meant that you were single. had you been the one to make a fuss about breaking up? yes, but. . .well, there was no but. it’d been years since you were able to prance around without the worries of a relationship and although you wanted jungkook back, it was admittedly freeing.

bae sejoon was the striker on the men’s national team and had been eying you since you walked into the estate. the two of you previously crossed paths at a lounge in gangnam a few months ago and now seeing that jungkook was not presently attached to your hip, he made the first move. it was hard to ignore - his coy smirk and athletic build that exuded masculinity. however, your only intentions were to simply ravel in the attention sejoon was willing to give to you.

as soon as you arrived to the event, sooah already left to go greet some of her model friends in the main dining room. she didn’t ask you to join - you’d been drifting apart since the beginning of the year and moving out of the dorns. meanwhile, you planned to politely mingle with other guests, given that you were technically here because of work - despite wanting nothing more but to lay low and keep to yourself.

“well, maybe we should go together. can’t believe you’ve never been to the best cafe in all of seoul.”

instead, you were batting your eyelashes at sejoon, who’d been going on about some french-style cafe that just opened up in the city. you didn’t think he was a particularly interesting guy, but he was cute. a cute distraction.

you said, “that sounds fun.”

except, sejoon didn’t know that you stopped drinking coffee two years ago. he didn’t know that you found little coffee shops pretentious and too hipster-y for your liking. you forced a smile.

jungkook always got you pastries straight from one particular bakery. he remembered your matcha order word for word. he made fun of coffee shops that tried too hard to be different with you. he. . . . he was now right in front of you?

you made it known to jungkook that you loved seeing him in all black. as the first kiss of autumn dawned upon seoul, he donned a long sleeve dress shirt and slacks. tailored and in the consistent shade of all black, the sight lit a fire in your stomach and you found yourself in a haze of how good he looked.

jungkook never hid how attracted he was to you, even after all these years of being together. he scanned your appearance from head to toe, licking his lips. it was as if there wasn’t a whole third person in your presence, as explicit images ran through both of your minds. it’d been so long since you saw each other and the tension in the air was like molasses.

“hi y/n,” jungkook greeted, not even looking sejoon’s way, until the other male cleared his throat. “am i interrupting something?” the glare jungkook sent sejoon was sharper than a blade.

sejoon rolled his eyes, already realizing his defeat. “yes, actually,” he replied.

your eyes remained trained on jungkook until that moment, where you had to physically shake it off.

“jungkook, you know sejoon,” you began reluctantly, noticing jungkook’s hard planted feet.

he only grunted in response, still not caring enough to say anything to sejoon and acknowledge him.

at this point, sejoon was over it. he looked at you and then at jungkook’s menacing figure, arms crossed and glare still fixed. it was as if you watched him calculating his odds during this conversation and decided there was no winning.

sejoon turned to you, a crease in between his eyebrows. “nice chatting with you,” he said and solemnly walked away.

you would have otherwise rolled your eyes at such a dramatic reaction if it weren’t for jungkook standing in front of you. everything about him was so mesmerizing, as the time away truly made the heart grow fonder. the smirk pressed against his lips showed that jungkook knew exactly what kind of effect he still had on you.

“i’ve missed you,” were the words that fell out of your mouth, almost instantly, and you wanted to kick yourself. how pathetic.

jungkook eyed you. “didn’t look like it just now,” he tried to be casual, but the sharpness in his voice was loud.

“still as jealous as ever, huh?”

your initial tactic was to play hard to get - even if you and jungkook had been together for years, it’d been so long since you could just flirt and tease him. it was a spark that’d been missing for quite some time now. a smile played mischievously on your lips.

truthfully, this was what jungkook needed. he was initially despondent upon your agreement to give each other space, sulking for several days until work got too busy to be dwelling on emotions. the time away and seeing you look at another man sparked something in him, too. his lids grew heavy.

he said, “so, this is what space means for you, huh?”

jungkook sounded as angry as he was hungry. it set him off, as his gaze lowered further and further down your body. on any day he would be ticked off, but his feelings of frustrations today instead felt warm and inviting. you froze when he stepped closer towards you, close enough that you could simply speak in secrets.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” was all that could come out of your mouth in a heavy breath, too mesmerized to make any further attempts at wit.

he was now just about nose to nose with you, but you couldn’t muster up the strength to meet his eyes.

“you’re nervous.”

“no, i’m not,” you said, edge in your voice.

lying right through your teeth wasn’t the best strategy when jungkook could see past it like glass. you were happy to flirt and dish it out, but being so close to jungkook so suddenly left you at a loss for words. you forgot where you were for a second and when you realized that the two of you were in public, your heart began beating like a butterfly’s wings. despite this, he was bold. he didn’t move an inch, willing to risk it all.

jungkook let out a low chuckle. “you won’t look me in the eye. you’re nervous, baby.”

“what do you want, jungkook?” you asked slowly.

his gaze trailed back to where sejoon walked off to. “what was all that about?” he said.

the answer was glaringly obvious to you, as jungkook innocently brushed a hair from your eyes and you resisted the urge to shudder at his touch. nothing in the world compared to this feeling.

“honestly?” you began, as identical smirks began to form on both of your faces. “nothing. nothing at all.”

that was all that needed to be said. jungkook, without tearing his eyes away from you, wordlessly took his phone out of his pocket and made a call. he licked his lips as he spoke and everything else in the world faded to grey. jungkook was a cascade of the colours of the rainbow, illuminating brighter and brighter like the sun until you were blinded from seeing anything else. he was a kaleidoscope that shone in front of you and you were emerging from a place with no light.

it took you a few moments to realize that jungkook was calling his driver. however, as far as he was concerned, the night wasn’t over - it was just getting started.

jungkook finally stepped away and you somehow felt so cold. “i’m going to leave out of the west wing doors. my car is there. leave out the east wing doors and walk around to meet me.” his directions were precise and somehow not commanding. tone soft and a gentle hand on the small of your back, it was the worst feeling of all.

familiarity. comfort. home.

all you could do was nod, your chest growing louder with excitement. both of your synergies were one and you both knew what idea came to mind. not much else needed to be said and there wasn’t a single part of you that could say no. his knowing smile was haunting.

after parting ways in opposite directions - as if a conversation didn’t even occur - you eventually ended up in the back of a limousine with jungkook.

time moved oddly in between those two moments, as the only thing you could think of was jungkook. it was an addiction no different than chips across a roulette layout or a cup of espresso at the same time everyday.

thankfully, the driver’s partition was already up when jungkook opened the door for you, because he immediately captured your lips before you could even sit down. like second nature, your fingers found themselves in the crown of his hair and his hand held your neck like a trophy. you both stumbled, now sat - at least he was. you were already straddling his lap. he tasted like red wine and you could have indulged for forever.

“mph, that’s what i fucking thought,” he mumbled against your lips and you took his as an opportunity to slide your tongue into his mouth.

his hands began hiking your previously eloquent gown up, enough that he could grip your thighs from underneath. your own hands found the buttons of his shirt, as the limousine began to speed off in what were probably going to be circles until jungkook told the driver to stop.

being in love was a vicious cycle that proved to be endless. this pattern would only continue from here on out. no matter how deep your passions for each other ran and no matter how addicting each others’ touches were, it only grew worse from here. more fights than lasted weeks to only be swept under the rug with a fuck and make up or a bottle of whiskey shared between you both. growing issues that were overlooked because that was your best friend.

your heart was no longer in it - it was trapped. all you could do was forget and forgive. all jungkook could do was beg and shower you with love. the night at the charity ball was one of many roots that eventually grew into deep seated resentment.

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yunohentai · 1 year

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night lights. warnings: noncon/cnc ?, pervert heeseung, boob guy hee, reader's older (like 2 years?), reader's shy and sophisticated, virgin reader + experienced hee, dumbification, she says no (which is like noncon) but is enjoying it so its cnc, clicking pics and recording sex too ig??, indication of blackmailing towards the end, he masturbates alot. this is like real filth with some wild kinks. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK + minors dni please.

Lee Heeseung has huge secrets, everyone thinks he's a perfect boy with great grades and a promising future ahead... but little do they know. He's the biggest pervert you could come across. Just 19 yet he's obsessed with sex. He lost his virginity at the age of 17 to a 20 year old girl who rode his dick in a huge crowded party. he was so obsessed with the feeling that since then he's been having sex every week, different pussy every time and well he got blessed to have a huge, thick cock which he knew how to use well, oh and his amazing looks... got all the girls on his dick, ready to let him ruin them.

While you, Y/F/N... knows only the main thing. 'Sex is done to reproduce.' without too much of an idea, and neither you've ever felt any "dark" desire. Innocent little sweetheart who is focused on building up a career and leading a stable life. You love shopping, studying English literature and posting on Instagram. Your tits are so huge. It's as if your tits are honey and boys are bees, they want you and your body so much... but you don't wanna give it up.

Heeseung and you were in the same college but have never crossed ways until today. You were wearing a sage green dress till your knee, which showed alot of your cleavage, your sister always bought you outfits like those in hopes you'll finally have a boy in your life.

You were on your way to class while reading through your 'Wuthering Heights' notes quickly, not noticing your way as you bumped into a guy, falling on top of him. It was obviously none other than, Heeseung. It was a very bad collision. You fell in his lap, your arm hurting as he just stared at you with his mouth wide open, eyes on the main attraction, the huge tits that were almost slipping out of the dress.

Unknowingly his hand moved towards your chest, fixing your dress as you gasped softly and looked into his eyes. he felt your cleavage and the softness made him harden a little as he got up and helped you up too. "I'm so sorry." he apologized and bowed, eyes stuck on your milky white legs. "I'm sorry too! Please forgive me!" you felt really shy and guilty as you bowed, your breasts coming all out again as he moaned lowly and made you stand straight again, "hey it's fine. anyways, I'm heeseung. Freshman." you smiled at him while fixing your dress.

That fucking smile. His heart fluttered, and butterflies filled all of his stomach and he smiled too. "I'm Y/n, Junior." he nodded his head as her cheeks burned with shyness. "I hope we become friends." he winked and walked away, leaving you a mess because of how well that handsome boy treated you and even cared about how your dress revealed your private parts! so considerate!!

He had left straight for the bathroom as he then sat in cubicle, gasping to himself. " Oh wow" he said to himself as he then started wanking, he couldn't help thinking of her. Heeseung tries to use his negative emotions like, anger and all because he works his ass off all the time. So he mostly channels those emotions sexually, kinda hot.

~ ~ ~

The day had ended as you were by your locker, putting in your books and taking the one you're gonna study at home. as heeseung came running to you. "Oh my god- listen y/n do you major in English lit. ?" he asked her, acting all worried. as you nodded your head in confusion. "why?" you asked and he leaned on the lockers. "Okay so our teacher is making me get tutored by a very annoying girl so I told him I'll find someone else, and while looking for someone else I saw you. Do you mind?" he told her with a pout on his lips, and the look in his eyes, that could make everyone melt. "Hmm... I'm not that good at it but I can help."

heeseung smiled. " thanks alot!! btw, your number?" he asked with a pretty smile and you nodded while softly blushing as you both exchanged numbers and shook hands.

~ Timeskip to a month or so later ~

You and Heeseung sat in the hallroom of your rented apartment as you helped him out with the freshman English lit syllabus, wearing shorts and sleeve less top that barely kept your tits inside. "Okay let's take a two minute break." you said and took your phone scrolling through your instagram. you were wearing a really soft shade of pink which highlighted your hard nipples because of cold and your cleavage. Heeseung pulled out his phone and subtly clicked alot of pictures of them, from even different angles.

"hey, i'm gonna use the bathroom." he said and you nodded, very busy on your phone as he quitely went towards the bathroom but sneaked into your bedroom. he knew you won't look for him for the next 10 minutes, so he went into your wardrobe for like the 5th time this month and stole another pair of your panties, it was a lacy white one as he sniffed it and moaned. "Like always. even her fucking panties smell heavenly." he said and put it in his pocket as he went back outside.

he was a bit shocked to see you stretching from your spot, your complete breasts visible and ass in the air, as you lazily tried to grab the charger and your earphones. your hard pink nipples rubbed on the wool carpet getting harder as he felt his dick harden, he looked down and saw the boner. he sighed and coughed, making her gasp and sit back up, fixing her clothes. "Are you alright?" he asked and you nodded. "Let-let's get back to work!" you said and he shook his head. "Wait y/n let me help you." he said and smirked, he knew you were gullible and he could atleast get to touch your tits tonight.

He sat down, way closer to you than before. "Straighten your back." you were about to question but he shushed you and you nodded, giving up. You followed his command as he then leaned down, now his face was almost buried in your chest and your eyes widened. "Hees-" he silenced you and grabbed your tits using his hands. "Heeseung stop!" you said in an angry tone. "just let me do it, y/n!" he said and removed your shirt with one hand and held your hands tightly with the other one. he was so ecstatic to finally see the tits.

he hooked his lips on your nipple and started sucking on it aggressively while caressing the other one, you could feel wetness spread down between your legs. Confusion was what you felt, what's happening- why am i loving it..? she let out a string of hot moans as he grew harder and harder, he then sucked her tits really good, the nipples un-hardening slowly. he then pulled away.

"see. that's how they un-harden" he rolled his eyes and you looked into his eyes. "oh... thank you... heeseung.. can we conti-continue?" he shook his head. "I'm going home." you nodded as he left.

you didn't know or understand this feeling between your legs, as you went into your bedroom, touching between your legs and gasping. "Oh god- i'm just gonna sleep-" you gasped and hugged the pillow between your legs falling asleep.

And well in your sleep, you humped that pillow, thinking it's heeseung's thigh. oh your first wet dream!

while heeseung thrusted his dick into your panties, and also wanked himself off, moaning and grunting your name. how you moaned, your scent, the smell of you in the panties, your tits, your innocence, your beauty.. everything turned him on so bad as he grabbed his phone and wanked himself more and faster, watching you boobs.

~ The next week ~

For the full next week you were acting weird. turning red whenever heeseung was around, and not even avoiding him at all, trying to get closer to him. While heeseung enjoyed the attention and continued to secretly steal your panties and click lewd pictures of you.

For example, He dropped his fork down on purpose and went down the table, where you sat with your legs open wide and enjoyed the food as he clicked a photo. Then when you were busy looking for something under your bed, he got a picture of your perfect round ass. Oh and when you thought he was in the bathroom and sheepishly pushed your hand inside your shorts, feeling and caressing her clit. that photo made him feel so fucking turned on. he litreally caught you touching yourself, he thought. And last, when you had left your main door unlocked and he got in, you had taken off your lens and were showering, you didn't even see him when he got the most lewd of all pictures and videos. Photo and video of you squeezing and scrubbing your tits and them bouncing etc.

He was in love with your body and with sexualizing you. He was excited to fuck you and feel your pussy.

Today you went over to heeseung's so you could help him out with the work and studying as his exam was approaching. you wore the tightest and revealing dress today. it was till your thigh and super tight on the breast region making them pop out more. you had no idea why you were doing this but dressing up for him was fun.

you rang the bell and smiled as he opened the door. "hey y/n, welcome" he greeted as you walked in, taking of your jacket and hanging it. heeseung was done with life now, you're wearing a peach dress till your thighs which was flying everywhere because of the fan, showing him your black underwear and the fact your tits were spilling out and your nipples were visible, you weren't even wearing a bra.

he was now almost offended, she acts innocent? and then dresses like that? is she fooling me.. he pushed away the thoughts and led her into his bedroom as the two sat down and today you were helping him finish his sketches for submission. his arm was pressed in the region between your breasts as you led his hand and helped him sketch. "see, that's how you do it. you're bad at this." you said and continued to lead his hand, as your tits then rubbed on his arm.

That. drived him insane, but he held back and decided to play the same game with you. you giggled at his bad drawing and made fun of him. "Oh yeah? You're so mean" He said and started to tickle you as you giggled and fell backwards onto his bed as he was on top of you tickling you while you giggled and bounced. His eyes were stuck on your tits. "OKAY STOP STOP NOW."

He stopped and you looked into his eyes, seeing a certain look on his face which scared you and brought that same feeling between your legs. "Y/n, Can I?" he asked leaning in to kiss you as you let the thoughts leave your head and pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt and let him lead.

His hands were next to your head as he softly kissed you, slowly speeding up and biting your lips. His hands ranged lower while touching your thighs and touching you sensually as you made out with while breathing heavily. Soon the reality hit you as you pulled away and tried to push him off of you. "heeseung no no-"

You were resisting him but the soft look in his eye had now been replaced by something darker, something more scary. Chills went down your spine and your pussy fluttered. "Shh" He whispered and started to leave a trail of harsh bites kisses from your chin to your shoulder blade. "I've been waiting for this moment. Don't fuck it up for me."

"Heeseung stop, let me go." you said as a few moans left your mouth too. He rolled his eyes and slapped your face as you gasped and looked at him with wide eyes. With one swift moment he threw everything that was on the bed away and pulled you closer to him.

"Are you nicely gonna take it off or should i tear it off?" He asked as you looked at him with doe eyes hoping he'd stop but the need in your eyes stood out to him more. "Fine." And there was your dress, left only in shred around your thighs.

Your tits fell out with a small bounce as he licked his lip at that view. He shimmied off the shreds and your panties to the side as you tried to stop him, few tears forming in your eyes. I want to feel more.. you thought but tried to kick him off of yourself. "Please stop this!!"

His hand moved between your legs harshly as the other one held you down, he rubbed your clit harshly and waited for your wetness to grow so he could put his fingers inside your walls while you complained and cried. His lips were abusing your tits like an animal, biting, pulling the nipple and kissing them. You were moaning and rubbing your hips against his fingers while he thrusted them harshly.

"It- hurts.." You cried out with your eyes closed and he smiled. "Just the way my dick used to hurt watching you in those tiny clothes love." He said and continued abusing your tits and pussy. The tears weren't there because of disgust or any negative feeling, you were crying because you were actually liking it. You knew your dad would kill you if he found out you consummated before marriage.

He was just there admiring your beauty as you threw your head back and moaned softly to his touches. He moved a bit away and stopped touching you as you looked at him. He was rummaging through his side table cupboard as he pulled out a vibrator. You were confused as you watched his click a button and put it into your pussy. "OH GOD-" you moaned and threw your head back.

He then took off his own clothes and started to rub his tip while watching you get off. "Need to get my dick wet myself because you're too dumb to do it for me." He tsked. He noticed how the area around her breast and her face had turned, there was drowsiness in her eyes. "M-my belly-" you moaned as he then stopped to pull the vibrator out.

"Please stop it heeseung... this isn't r-right" You whispered as his hands moved behind your head, and he grabbed your head by your hair. His lips were inches away from yours as he whispered. "I don't care." and there he was, pushing both of your hands above your head and pushing your legs wide apart.

You could feel it, all too much. Even the smallest of touch and the smallest sound in the nearest area, you could feel it all, hear it all. You closed your eyes tightly, slowly fighting the grip his hand had on your hands while he just slid his penis inside you, your faces inches away as a few more tears fell out of your eyes. "I hate you" You whispered out as you felt rippling pain with his soft motion. "D-DON'T!" Heeseung stares at you as you complain about the slight pain.

"Be a woman, Y/n." He whispered as he slowly started to move, taking his time and let the pain turn into pleasure. The moment it did change, it was too clear. You couldn't protest anymore as your hands moved to his shoulder, scratching and wanting him to increase his speed so bad but no word left your mouth except the moans.

"Fuck. this feels so good. so so good" he panted out like an excited child, but in a deep voice. You could feel the shivers on your back as you shook underneath him, letting your breasts bounce and jiggle with each and every hard thrust. Heeseung continued to pound into you senselessly, his eyes stuck on your breasts well it shifted to see your face twist into a pleasure-ful expression. "Gorgeous"

His hands were free now so they dived lower, rubbing your clit while he moved his hips graciously rubbing against THE stop. You felt these overwhelming feelings for the first time in your life, you knew you could just explode anytime and then there came the tickles in your belly. "My belly!" you gasped as you felt his pace increase, it was indicating your coming orgasm and well also how deep his dick was into you. It could be seen when he thrusted inside. "m-my god-"

"You're all mine now" he smiled, watching his cock create the bulge in your belly, proudly. He groaned when you clenched a little too hard on his dick. It twitched inside of you, as you felt him paint your insides white. That feeling broke your control too as you felt all of your tension and stress evaporate along with the "liquid".

You felt free, but little did you know by putting that small camera right in the correct corner... he might have changed everything, and made sure that you stay with him and only him.

#heeseung smut #heeseung #lee heeseung #heesung x reader #heeseung x yn #enhypen legal line #enhypen hard hours #enhypen imagine #jake smut #jay smut #enhypen hard thoughts #sunghoon smut #nct smut

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trippinsorrows · 1 month

Text

give me a reason + two

authors note: wow! so humbled by people's interest in this one! forgot to mention that i'll be playing around with joe's career, in terms of the timeline and whatnot.

also, if ya'll ever watched the bernie mac show, i was very much inspired in one section by that scene where vanessa and them was doing that car wash at bernie's house lmaooo

in addition (last point, i swear lmao), i can do faceclaims for the character, mainly mariella's family. if ya'll want. i know some people prefer to visualize for themselves. just lmk.

i don't own any lyrics used.

previous chapter

words: 7k

song inspo: just give me a reason by p!nk and nate ruess

warnings: language, fluff, some angst, blink and you'll miss it sexy time.

Spring, 2005

Spring break.

The time looked forward to by most students, especially college students, who are granted a free week to get into all kinds of trouble, mischief and then return to campus like nothing ever happened.

Joe and Byron can’t deny that they’ve definitely had their fair share of that the first part of college, but now with two years under their belts and only two years left to go, they’re focused on having killer seasons and landing their dreams of going into the NFL.

It’s why when coach decides to give the players a break, canceling all practices during said break, there’s not even an initial question about what they should do with their time.

Home.

They’re going home.

Because while being away is nice at times, there’s absolutely no place like home and being surrounded by the people you love the most.

Byron glances at Joe who’s looking down at his phone. “You gonna see Brianna while we in town?”

Joe looks up. He can’t say he hasn’t thought about it. Brianna, Joe’s last high school girlfriend, was inarguably the easiest of all the girls he’s ever dated. And if not for him not wanting to be tied down while away at college, he would have tried to make it work.

“I don’t know,” he answers, truthfully. “We’ll see.”

“Well, I’m definitely hitting up Tamia. Heard she and ole’ dude broke up.”

Joe shakes his head. Tamia has been Byron’s on and off girlfriend since freaking middle school. They date, break up, date other people, break up with said other people and start right back over. Truthfully, Joe can see Tamia being the one for Byron considering how long they’ve been in this little cycle.

“Just make sure you’re safe, man.”

Byron looks like he’s just been told to make sure he wears a seatbelt. “Always, bro. You know me.”

Joe knows him alright. Knows he can be reckless at times. And with so much at stake in the next upcoming two years, they can’t afford to be reckless.

“I do. That’s why I’m saying it.”

“Man….” Joe laughs at Byron’s dismissal. “What do we have here?” Joe turns his attention to where Byron has set his gaze only to quickly scowl with disgust. “Ugh, they in high school.”

Joe is also instantly repulsed. “That’s fucking gross.”

Byron shakes in his seat, as if trying to shake the disgust off himself when he sees something. “Wait a minute…” Joe again tries to see what’s triggered the exclamation of irritation. “Oh hell no.”

“What are you—what the hell!” Joe shouts out as Byron suddenly swerves into the next turn lane, barely missing hitting a car. “The fuck are you doing, man!”

“That’s Ella out there!” He answers, speeding near the station where a bunch of high school girls are operating a car wash, trying to raise money for who knows what.

At the mention of Ri, Joe’s attention is snatched. “What?” He’s looking around as Byron looks to quickly park the truck, clearly eager to get out. Joe doesn’t see her just yet. It’s not until they’re parked and out of the car that his eyes land on her.

Her smile is the first thing he notices. She’s laughing. Not surprising. For as long as he’s known her, which has been his whole life essentially, she’s always the one in the group to make everyone laugh.

Usually from her klutziness.

It’s never a dull moment with Mariella Holmes.

Moving closer, he can see that it’s definitely Ri, and she’s giggling along with the other girls, dancing to what he recognizes is Black Eyed Peas latest song, “My Humps.”

It’s that realization that helps Joe understand why Byron is so annoyed.

The dancing could be seen as a bit provocative.

“Ella!”

Her head snaps up at Byron’s voice, easily landing on him. Joe watches her mouth drop open in shock before she shouts, “BJ!”

Dropping the soapy rag in the bucket, she’s nearly sprinting over to the two of them, tackling Byron with a hug first. “What are you doing here?”

It’s when she steps back that she moves over to him. She smirks, crossing her arms. “Should have known you wouldn’t turn down a chance to come see me.”

Joe laughs, pulling her in for a hug. “Never.”

“What am I doing here?” Byron cuts in, angrily gesturing to her. “What are you doing out here dressed like this?”

She looks down at her outfit, frowning. Joe does the same. It’s a bathing suit top with jean shorts and flip flops. What’s so bad about that?

And she expresses as such.

“Ummm, the dance team is having a car wash. We’re trying to raise money for travel costs this season.”

This doesn’t seem acceptable to Byron as he asks, “well, you ain’t having nothing else to wear? All exposed and everything.”

That’s when she rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, you’re so annoying.”

He starts to pull his shirt off when even Joe chimes in, “dude, come on.”

“She’s half naked!”

“I’m wearing a bathing suit, BJ.” Mariella says it like he’s slow. Like he was on the short bus. “I know you’ve been away at school, so you haven’t been around as much, but I have boobs now—”

At that, both Joe and Byron turn up their nose. The last thing they need is that type of visual.

She continues, gesturing to her body. “I hit puberty, and allll the areas started filling out. It happens!”

“I’m gonna be sick.” Byron covers his mouth. “I don’t give a damn. You’re sixteen, not twenty-one.”

She gives a sly smile. “That’s not what my fake ID says.”

Joe catches her gaze, seeing that she’s just messing with him. It makes him laugh.

“Your what? Girl, you done lost your damn mind.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Relax, BJ. You know I can’t get a fake ID. My dumbass would feel too bad and turn myself in.”

“That’s true,” Joe chimes, and she glares, reaching over to hit him. She starts to say something, only for her eyes to go wide. “What’s wrong?”

She says nothing, just awkwardly shifting her weight from one leg to another. He starts to ask again when a new voice joins the conversation.

“Hey, babe.”

Byron jumps to a new level of annoyance. “Babe?” He and Joe watch as some scrawny looking little boy, who’s really not that scrawny in actuality but looks it compared to Byron and Joe, walks up to Mariella, kissing her.

Byron looks like he’s about to have a stroke. He asks with all the smoke. “Who the hell are you?”

Scrawny scoffs and has the audacity to throw the question back at him. “Who the hell are you?”

“Oh my god.” Mariella murmurs, slapping her hand against her forehead. “BJ, this is my boyfriend, Derrick—”

Mariella having a boyfriend makes sense to Joe. She’s 16 now. Why wouldn’t she be dating? It’s normal and expected.

If only Byron saw it that way. “Boyfriend? Since when do you have a boy—”

“Derrick, this is my brother, BJ or Byron, and basically like my non-blood brother, Joe.”

Scrawny AKA Derrick looks like he’s seen a ghost. “Oh shit, my bad—”

If only he knew that Byron doesn’t forgive nor does he forget when it comes to his little sisters, especially Mariella.

He steps toward the shorter young man. “Naw. You bad. You wanted to know who the hell I was, so let me tell you, I’m the nigga that’s gon fuck you up if you ever—”

“Byron!” Mariella is now fuming, grabbing him by his arm as she tugs him in a different direction. “Give us a couple minutes.” She flashes a sweet smile at Derrick and a pleading expression to Joe for him to also be nice.

Joe waits until they’re out of hearing distance. He then slaps Derrick on the arm. “Don’t take it personally. That’s just Byron. He’s always been a hothead.”

Derrick gives a nervous laugh, showing off braces that Joe didn’t notice before. He refrains from frowning. Ri could definitely do better than this dweeb. “You like Ri?”

Derrick shrugs, offering an unimpressive. “She’s alright.”

And that’s all Joe needs to hear to know what this kid is really about. Stepping toward him, he keeps his voice leveled and expression ice cold. “Do anything to hurt her, and you won’t have to worry about Byron.” He gives a steel smile. “I’m the one you’ll never see coming.”

———-

Present

Post-traumatic amnesia (PTA)

Or some milder form of it.

Amnesia, at the very least.

That’s what Dr. Reynolds says is the cause of Mari’s complete loss of memory. A result of the head trauma she received from the accident. A prognosis that somehow feels almost worse than the coma, at least to Joe.

Because for the life of him, he doesn’t know how to look at the woman he’s known his entire life, and have her look back at him like he’s a stranger, like she has no idea who he is.

Because she doesn’t have any idea who he is.

As devastating as that blow is, he knows it hits harder for her parents. April nearly collapsed in Byron Sr’s arms as Dr. Reynolds informed them of Mari’s memory loss.

She was in tears, desperately asking, “but—but she’ll get them back, right, doctor?”

And Joe only has to glance at the doctor, the way his lips press together before he informs sympathetically, “we don’t know. Some patients do eventually retrieve their memories. Others….others never do.”

Joe can’t even allow himself to think of the latter option.

A couple days post coma, he knocks on her door, seeing she’s alone, her parents most likely grabbing food or something.

She glances at the door offering a small smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. It’s insincere, and he doesn’t know how to feel about that either, because one of the things he’s always loved about her has always been her smile. So big and infectious. Just like her personality.

“Hey.” There’s nothing big and infectious about her almost unsure tone.

“Hey.” He doesn’t wait for her to welcome him in, just walks in, taking the seat on the side of her bed. “How you feeling?”

She gives a one sided shrug. He notices the cuts and bruising on her face have gone down tremendously. That's a plus in a situation full of minuses. “Don’t know.” After obviously thinking about the question more, she offers a more descriptive answer. “Very...confused.”

“About?” He then adds. “Maybe I can clear it up for you.”

“I don’t know. It’s….it’s mostly about who I am.” He could definitely answer that one for her. She shakes her head, providing an example. “Like, I’m apparently this big singer, but I can’t even think about singing right now. It doesn’t—it doesn’t even feel like me.” She chuckles bitterly. “Not that I know who me is.”

“You love music. Always have. And you’re good at it. Singing. Writing. Producing. Dancing. All of it.” She looks over at him as he says with all the honesty and sincerity, “there’s nothing, creatively, you can’t do.”

Mariella nods, as if taking in the information to analyze later on. “What about you?” She asks. “What do you do?”

A lot of things. A lot of things he now regrets deeply. But, that’s not her question. “Professional wrestler.” He starts to say WWE to see if she knows what that is, but that isn’t important. Shit about him isn’t the priority.

Mariella looks him over, nodding. “It fits.”

He smiles a bit. The first he’s done in weeks. “What else do you want to know?”

She’s quiet for a few moments before asking the question he didn’t know he was dreading until now. “How did I end up here?”

What a loaded question he was absolutely not prepared for.

There’s a lot of things that led them to where they are right now. A lot of which he blames himself for, and her as well, but not nearly as much as he blames himself. They both played a role in how badly their relationship deteriorated, but Joe puts the bulk of it on himself.

He’s older and should know better.

But, the specific incident that resulted in her accident, the blowout that ended with her requesting the one thing she always swore she never wanted to have happened when they got married…that’s it.

That is the truth she is probably looking for. It’s a truth, however, he can’t find it in him to tell her.

Because selfishly, he doesn’t want that to be the thing to trigger her memories, or any memories of all the things that have gone so terribly wrong the past two years. He doesn’t want that for her.

Doesn’t want it for them.

It’s why he settles on an answer that’s neither a lie but also not the full truth.

“You had a lot on your mind and went for a drive.” His voice shifts into something quiet. He’s still trying to process his feelings about that part of this whole thing. “You were hit head on by a drunk driver.”

Silence.

For a brief second, he’s unsure if he should have just told the truth. Been honest with her and let the cards fall as they may.

And then she speaks.

“Well, that’s unfortunate.” He looks up. Joe sees it. That sense of humor that some could only take in doses, but for him, it’s always been a highlight. She’s always been able to put a smile on his face even in the darkest of his days. “How long have we been married?”

Another unexpected question, but he answers truthfully. “This March makes 11 years.”

“Wow.” This seems to take her by surprise. “And how long have we been together?”

“That….that’s a bit of a long story.”

She lifts her brow, gesturing to her hospital bed. “Not like I have anywhere to be.”

He chuckles. She has a point, but the story of them…that seems too complicated or detailed to share in a freaking hospital. Because in his mind, he’s started to sort the different ways and things he can do to help remind her of who she is.

Of who they were.

Finally, he answers, “I just—I think you should—”

There’s a knock on the door, Joe turning to see April and Byron Sr.

April is the first to speak, walking over to them. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” She’s almost hesitant to move too close. Joe can see she wants nothing more to engulf her youngest in a hug but recognizes the same almost uncomfortable expression Mariella wore the minute he walked in.

“It’s okay.” He assures, going to stand up. “I’ll leave you guys—”

“Actually,” Byron Sr. interjects, shooting Joe a sympathetic expression. “We were hoping to speak with you.” He looks toward Mariella, and Joe hates it. Hates the almost discomfort that exists between them. She’s always been super close with her parents. Especially her dad. “If that’s alright, sweetheart?”

Mariella shrugs, clearly unbothered. “Sure.” She starts to lay back in her bed a little. “I’m kinda tired anyway.”

Joe wonders how much of that is truth, and how much of it is her just wanting to be alone from people who are virtual strangers.

Strangers…

That’s definitely a word he never thought could be used in any context regarding Mariella.

Once outside the room and in the private waiting area, her parents wait until a set of nurses pass before April is the first to speak. She reaches over and places a comforting hand. “How are you doing, Joe? Really?”

A mess. He’s a fucking mess. Joe has seen much, much better days than the past few weeks. But, he also doesn’t want to make this about him, about his mental state, so he provides a half truth.

“Been better.” His response is gruff as he quickly moves to change topics. “What about you guys?”

Having his wife have no idea who he is is brutal, but he can’t even begin to imagine what it’s been like for two parents to not have their youngest child recognize them, to have no idea who they are.

Byron Sr. is the first to answer, mirroring his son-in-law’s words. “Been better.”

April shifts in her seat, bringing her hand back to her lap. “We umm—we spoke to Dr. Reynolds earlier today.”

Joe looks up, partially wondering why he wasn’t present for that meeting. “Okay.”

“She doesn’t remember anything, Joe. Not her childhood. Not her family. Not…not even us.” April voice breaks at the end of her statement as Joe looks away. Hearing this again isn’t exactly helpful, though he would never disrespect her parents by asking them to shut up. Even if it’s what he wants. “And we—well, we just think—”

Byron Sr. cuts in, hand on his wife’s knee. “We want to take her back home with us, Joe.” Joe’s stomach drops. “We want to take her back to Florida.”

———-

Spring, 2022

Cameras.

That’s the one thing Mariella, Mari, still struggles to get used to. The bright lights flashing in her face as her photo is taken, whether on the red carpet, on the stage, or even when she’s just making a run to the grocery store. The latter one hasn’t happened as much as it used to, for which she’s grateful, but still.

So there’s a bit of an adjustment as she looks around the room, the hair and makeup team touching up her face once more before they kick off the segment.

She doesn’t regret it. Doesn’t regret it at all. It’s a good look for him. For her too. And beyond any type of benefit for their careers, she’s just happy she gets to see him.

Because that’s the part she doesn’t think she’ll ever truly get over or be okay with.

The distance.

As directed, she walks down the hall, making sure not to look directly into the camera. This is made infinitely easier by pretending she’s shooting a music video. Which, truth be told, it isn’t very different.

Mari wears the confused expression perfectly, looking down at her phone as if it has information that could help her when she ‘accidentally’ walks into him.

Head up, she gasps and immediately gets to apologizing, just as was in the script. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I wasn’t even looking where I was going.”

His eyes widen as he ‘realizes’ who she is. “Wow. No, you are absolutely fine. Wow. You’re Mari!”

Smiling, she points at him, “and you are…..”

He seems a bit taken back at first, like he’s waiting for her to also recognize him. When that doesn’t happen, he offers his hand. “Sami Zayn. Master strategist and locker room leader.”

She nods, perfectly conveying another confused look at just what that means. “Does—does that mean you’re good with directions? Cause I suck at them.”

“It absolutely does, and you are in luck, because I just so happen to be free right now and would love to give you a tour.”

She opens her mouth to protest, “oh, that’s so sweet, but I really should—” she looks down at her phone. “You know what, I’m a little early, so why not?”

“Awesome.” He claps his hands together and offers his arm. Mari smiles and links hers in his as he starts leading them down the hall, pointing out the most obvious of things.

The camera cuts, and she engages in conversation with Sami, who’s actually a lot like the ‘character’ he plays. Super charismatic and engaging. Kinda reminds her of herself. So much so that before she realizes, they’re back to recording after having moved across the arena.

“And lastly we have—” His eyes suddenly widen as he realizes where they are, Sami moving his hand to her back as he directs them in the opposite direction. “Wait, we do not want to go—”

“There it is!” Mari, however, is smiling brightly as she walks toward the door.

Sami looks like he’s about to have a panic attack, frantically warning, “Mari, I know you’re like an international mega star, but trust me, you do not want to bother that man—” He’s silenced by her knocking on the door.

His face is turning red as he urgently whispers to her, “we should really get out of here. Like right now!.”

She turns to him, confused. “Why?”

And before Sami can respond, the door is ripped open, the scowling faces of the Usos the first thing Sami lands on. He’s preparing to get chewed out only for them to look at Mari and instantly start smiling.

“Whassup, Mari!” Jimmy is the first to greet her, pulling her in for a hug. Followed by Jey, the two of them engaging in some secret handshake that ends with a ‘Yeet’.

Sami, however, laughs nervously, gesturing between the three. “Wait, you—you guys know Mari?”

Jimmy answers, slinging his arm around her. “Man, of course. This family!”

“You’re related to them?” Sami asks, eyes wide.

Mari opens her mouth to answer when another person emerges from the private locker room, taking up almost the entire door frame, face stoic and eyes cold.

Sami looks like he’s about to piss himself. He swallows. “My Tribal Chief, I’m so sorry—”

He’s interrupted by Mari who smiles and pulls away from Jimmy to walk up to Roman.“Hi, baby.” Sami looks on stunned as she leans up and kisses his cheek, pressing her body into his, hand on his abs. “Sorry, I’m a bit late.” She grins over at Sami. “Sami was giving me a tour of the place.”

The reddening of his cheeks is about what and what with the red of his hair. “I don’t—I’m not—”

Playfully rolling her eyes as Roman continues to look like he’s contemplating murder, she lifts her left hand, showing off a beautiful diamond ring. “Roman’s my husband.”

Mouth open like a child who just found out Santa isn’t real, Sami does his best to reel in his surprise. “Of course, you’re married. I totally knew that!” He laughs nervously, hands on his hips. “That’s why I gladly brought you to the Tribal Chief myself. Wanted to ensure nothing but the best for the Bloodline’s first lady.”

“That was really sweet of you. Thank you.” She continues to smile, and Roman continues to send daggers with just one, stolid expression. Mari peers up, kissing him again as she reaches for his hand. “Come on.” She tugs him toward the inside of the locker room, Roman finally budging as he gives Sami one last look that has the redhead contemplating requesting a switch to Raw.

However, as Jimmy and Jey go to follow along with their cousin, Roman is quick to slam the door in their faces.

“Hey, Uce, uhhh,—” Jimmy tries to jangle the knob only to realize it’s locked. He starts knocking. “Roman! Hey, you gon let us in?”

A couple seconds later the door does open, but it’s Solo, followed by Paul Heyman. Wise Man closes the door behind him. He looks around, briefly bewildered and clears his throat, announcing, “The Tribal Chief has requested to be left alone this evening.”

Sami is the only one to laugh, playfully shoving Solo and pointing to the locker room. “I bet he has.” Solo, however, also looks like he’s also contemplating murder. Sami coughs awkwardly and turns to walk away, just as the camera crew announces ‘cut’.

The remaining men share laughs about the promo, meanwhile inside the locker room Mariella relishes in the feel of being reunited with her husband in real life, and now in the WWE kayfabe verse.

She’s pressed against his body, arms around his neck with his locked around her waist, holding her to him. “Hey, Big Daddy.”

Roman, Joe, rolls his eyes. Mariella giggles. She knows he has such a love/hate relationship with the term of endearment, one of many she has for the massive man before her. “You miss me?”

He makes a sound, leaning down to connect their lips. “Always, baby.”

She smiles into their kiss, “good answer.” His big hands venture down to squeeze her ass, Mariella moaning into his mouth which triggers something for him. He lifts her up, her legs locking around his waist as he goes to sit back down in the big leather chair. Joe’s tongue entering her mouth is enough to elicit another moan but also alert her to the fact of where he wants to take this.

“Baby, we cannot do the nasty at your job.”

“I don’t know why you still call it that.” His fake irritation makes her giggle. It’s an inside joke between them that she’ll never let die so long as she lives. “And who says we can’t?”

“I don’t know. The FCC?” He rolls his eyes as she grasps at his beard that she can tell he dyed recently. Most likely because of his job. She wishes he could leave it be. She likes the gray. It does….things to her. “Besides, you know the deal. If we do it right now, we can’t do it tonight.” He continues to move his hands across her ass. “Mama’s got a show this Sunday, and I’d rather not be rendered immobile because my husband impaled me on his big ole’ dick.”

Again, Joe rolls his eyes, even though there’s more truth to her statement than the typical playful jokes she cracks at any given time. Joe has a high sex drive. She’s known this for some years. Mariella, however, does not. And it’s not even that she doesn’t enjoy sex with her husband. It’s that her husband doesn’t know how to stop, doesn’t know how to come, make her come one time for the one time, and just be done with it.

No. This man wants rounds. And truthfully, she just doesn’t have the stamina to keep up with him. Outside of porn stars, she doesn’t know who would.

Man is an absolute beast.

“So damn dramatic,” he chuckles against her neck. “You know I be doing most of the work anyway.”

She opens her mouth to protest. “Okay, that may or may not be true.” She can feel him smiling against her. It’s not like he minds. Joe is dominant in the sheets, wanting to be in control at all times. Her preference given he’s much more well versed in the sexual arts than she is. “But, in my defense, you’re built like a Greek god.” A Samoan god. “I get winded walking up the staircase in our house.”

“Bullshit.” He pulls back, pointing out. “You be on that stage dancing your ass off for damn near three hours.”

She rolls her eyes, murmuring, “okay, that also may or may not be true.” Mari’s eyes flutter as he moves his hand under her dress. Long, thick fingers easily pushing aside her underwear, feeling the pool of her arousal. She squeezes his shoulders. “Joe….”

He grunts almost, gliding his fingers across her wet folds. She exhales sharply. “You this wet already and really want me to think you don’t want Big Daddy to fuck this tight lil’ pussy?”

Whining against him, Mariella unconsciously tries to move around on his lap to get his fingers back on her. In her, preferably. And it’s when he enters one of those deliciously talented fingers inside of her gushy opening, she caves. “Fine.” He smirks as she warns, “but you’re pushing me around in the wheelchair after!”

———-

Between a rock and a hard place.

That’s how Joe has felt the past few weeks, maybe even longer. But especially now.

He knows Ri’s parents are right. That they have every right to want her to spend time at home with them, in the place where she grew up, where most of her formative years and subsequent formative memories lie. Logically, it makes sense.

But, he can’t seem to get past his discomfort at the fact that Ri won’t be getting discharged and coming home with him. No, she’ll be discharged and hop on a plane with them back to Florida. Selfishly, he was hoping the doctor wouldn’t clear her to fly, but that plan went out the window. Dr. Reynolds is clearly on the same page with her parents about the potential benefit of being around constant triggers. Triggers that could help generate memories.

And Joe isn’t against that. At all.

It’s just the fact that he won’t be there that rubs him the right way.

“Joe.”

His eyes shut, an instant headache coming on. This is the last thing he needs.

Turning around, he’s met with Olivia “Liv” Holmes default stare of icy indifference. Out of all of Mariella’s siblings, her family in general, Liv has always been his least favorite.

For a lot of different reasons. The main one being how she always treated Mariella when they were younger. Not mean, per se. But not kindly either. She always acted like Mariella was annoying, and she definitely could be at times, but not to the extent that Liv made it seem.

Like Mariella was just this big nuisance. It’s part of the reason she always wanted to hang out with him and Byron when they were growing up, because Liv spent most of her time with her twin sister, Everly, and her own friend group.

“Liv.” He really doesn’t feel like talking to anyone, let alone her. Their interactions have always been brief and limited to what is essential. For good reason too.

“I take it my parents told you we’re taking Ella back home to Florida with us.”

Joe has to bite back a smartass comment. Liv’s smirk and the almost smug tone of her voice isn’t what he needs right now.

“Yes.” He matches her energy a bit, reminding. “For the first couple weeks, at least. Then I’m going to bring her back home with me.”

Where she belongs.

Liv smiles, but there’s nothing friendly about it. “We’ll see.”

Joe gives her a look. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know she called me.” He freezes. “The night of the accident.” Joe manages to keep a calm face despite his surprise at her words. Mariella has never been close with Liv, most of their communication occurring via texts and family group chats.

There’s only one reason she would call her sister who happens to be a divorce attorney.

“I want a divorce.”

Liv continuing to speak is ironically appreciated, as it pulls him from the memories of what is now an infamous argument. “I was sleeping and missed her call, but she didn’t leave a message. Kinda wishing she did, because I’m still trying to figure out just what the hell she was doing out on the road that late at night.”

He keeps his cool. Somehow. “I already told you—”

“I know what you said, Joe.” Her interruption is sharp. “I also don’t believe you, because what the hell could she have so heavy on her mind after winning 5 Grammys?” She crosses her arms. “It doesn’t make sense.”

When he doesn’t say anything, she continues her accusatory assault. “You seem to forget that we were in high school together, Joe. I know how you were.” At this, he can’t say anything, can’t necessarily defend himself against truth. “You and Byron fucked damn near half the girls in our school, probably at college too, and then all of a sudden you turn in your hoe card to be with my baby sister? Because you love her? I never bought that shit for a minute.”

While he can’t deny his promiscuous past, Joe isn’t about to stand here and let this woman act like he’s this horrible person who took advantage of Mariella. “What’s your point, Liv? Huh? I’m not fucking stupid. I know you never approved of me being with Ri, but just like I didn’t give a fuck then, I still don’t give a fuck now.”

Liv does relatively well hiding her disapproval among her family, to some extent. But Joe has always been hip to her truth. She thinks Mariella should have gotten with someone else, anyone else probably. Anyone who wasn’t him.

Liv, who has never done well with being challenged, steps forward, glare intense and purposeful. “I’m gonna find out what happened that night, Joe. Because I know there’s something you’re not telling us.” He keeps up his unreadable expression, though there’s a small chunk of guilt swimming around the back of his head. Not even about not being completely honest with Mariella’s family.

More about not being honest with her.

She lowers her voice. “And when I do find out—”

“Liv.”

Joe and Liv turn to see Byron Jr. standing before them with a disappointed expression.

Arms crossed, he steps toward them, focused more on Liv than Joe. “Don’t be starting no shit today, alright? This the last thing we need.”

In recent years, especially since becoming a father, BJ has matured from his hotheaded days, often even a voice of reason. One of the reasons he’s been voted Locker Room captain for his team, the 49ers, 3 years in a row.

Liv rolls her eyes. “You’ve always been blinded by your friendship with him—”

“Hey.” Byron raises his voice a bit. “I mean it. You blaming people doesn’t change what happened, and you know damn well Ella would have a fit at you coming at Joe like this.”

Not really. Maybe before. Before everything collapsed so tragically between the two of them.

“Whatever.” She gives a final almost warning glare to the two of them before stalking off, probably to go see Mariella.

BJ places a comforting hand on Joe’s shoulder once she’s gone. “You good, man?”

Not at all. “Yeah.” He clears his throat.

BJ gives a sad smile. “Don’t let Olevil get to you.” Her nickname from back when they were in high school makes Joe chuckle. “You going back to work next week?”

Joe blows out a breath. That hasn’t even crossed his mind the past couple weeks. He doesn’t even really know what storyline they came up with to cover his absence. Nor does he care really. “I haven’t even thought about that, man.”

“I think you should.” And before Joe can protest, Byron lifts his hand. “Hear me out. She’s gonna be with our parents for a few weeks, so you know she’ll be in good hands. What you gon’ do while she’s gone? Sit around the house sad and moping and shit? You know she would be chewing you out for that, telling you that you gotta get back in the game.”

Joe gives a bit of a smile. Byron is right. Knowing Mariella, she’d have a whole theatrical ass presentation as to why he should return to work, song and dance included.

“Yeah…”

Byron slaps him on his shoulder. “Just think about it, alright?”

Joe nods, because he will. And not for himself, not even for his job, because he doesn’t give a fuck about that right now.

But for Mariella.

His Ri.

Because she’ll always be his Ri.

And he’s determined to make sure she doesn’t forget it this time.

———-

Spring, 2022 [cont.]

“Baby!” It’s a distant voice that becomes closer as it's repeatedly conjoined with a small hand shaking at his shoulder. “Baby, wake up.”

And he does. Eyes fluttering open, his vision is blurred initially, gradually clearing up to reveal the face of his beautiful wife. Cognizant of his surroundings, Joe realizes she’s sitting on top of him, notebook and pen in hand.

He smiles. It’s been a while since she’s woken him up for this. And while he’ll regret it in the morning, he’s grateful for it now. Grateful for these little callbacks to when they were broke, living in a crappy apartment, trying to chase the dream as inspiration struck her at all hours of the night. And she would wake him up, wanting his feedback.

He didn’t really mind then.

And he doesn’t really mind now.

That’s just his Ri.

Eyes squinting, she asks, “you up?”

He chuckles, also enjoying the sight of her straddling him wearing only his shirt. “Yes, baby. I’m up.”

“About time,” she complains, and he rolls his eyes. So damn dramatic. “I’m feeling inspired.” She says it while giving almost jazz hands, pretty brown eyes landing back on him. “Wanna hear the lyrics?”

He yawns, glancing at the digital clock that reads 2:37AM. “What else would I be doing at this time?”

She glares. “Is that sarcasm I detect, mister? Is it my fault my musical muse comes alive at night? That she flourishes when most—”

“Ri.”

“Huh?”

He closes his eyes. Joe loves Mariella with everything in him, but he’s not in the mood for one of her theatrical tangents at damn near 3 o’clock in the morning. “Lyrics.”

“Oh! Right!” Chuckling, he watches as she reads over whatever she’s written to herself at first. A bit of a habit. She’s always initially self-conscious about her lyrics. “Now, it’s just off the top of my head, so be nice, okay?”

“I’m always nice to you, Ri.” It’s the truth. As annoyed as he can get sometimes, she’s never been on that list. “And I’m sure it’s fine.”

She smiles appreciatively, slightly taking him by surprise as she quietly sings the lyrics versus just reading them to him.

Yellow diamonds in the light

Now we're standing side by side

As your shadow crosses mine

What it takes to come alive

It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny

But I've gotta let it go

We found love in a hopeless place

Finished, she looks down at him, expectantly, “well?”

“I love it.” He loves most of what she writes though. He especially loves to hear her sing. “What inspired it?”

“I don’t know. I was just thinking about us. About how far we come.” She shrugs, his hands rubbing circles on her hips. “Your show was sold out tonight, Joe. Mine is sold out too. Like, we both sold out Madison Square Garden. That feels almost too perfect to be true.”

He makes a sound. “But, it is, baby.”

“I know.” She sighs heavily and asks in a partial hypothetical tone. “We’re like really hot shit, huh?” Joe chuckles as she gasps and places her tablet down on his chest, quickly writing something down. He says nothing, having been with her for so long that none of her quirky ways really surprise him anymore.

“Also.”

“Also?”

She glares but moves to place the notebook and pen on the nightstand, resting her hands on his chest. “I was thinking about our conversation earlier…” He’s quiet, waiting patiently for her to finish her sentence even if it does have him a bit on edge. He’s never been good with waiting. “Let’s do it.”

Her answer takes him by surprise. “You sure?”

She nods, tugging at his beard. “We’re not getting any younger.” She giggles, eyes playfully narrowing. “Especially you, old man.”

At that, he sucks his teeth. “Who you calling old?” He squeezes her side, and she squeals. He knows that’s where she’s ticklish. She falls out, laughing, and he takes the advantage of her being distracted to flip them so she’s flat on her back. “Naw, say it again. I ain’t hear you.”

“Joe, stop,” she giggles as he hovers over her, tickling her until she pushes back against his shoulder. He grabs her hand, restricting her when she opens her eyes. Her laughter quietly dies down when their eyes lock.

Love.

So much love.

Joe leans down and connects their lips, softly, slowly, just as meaningful as any other kiss they’ve shared. She moans into his mouth, feeling his hardened length graze against her opening, her essence already making its way down her inner thighs.

He feels this too, groaning and lifting her thigh to widen her as he carefully enters her, watching her arch her back at the entrance. She whimpers, hands moving around his shoulders.

He kisses her wrist, watching the pleasure on her face as he gives her deep strokes, slow and plunging, just how he knows she likes it. “Shhhh….let me take care of you, baby.”

And he does.

He always has.

He always will.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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loveleftmelikethis · 3 months

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disclaimer: i dont block out users bc im not a coward.

anyways. i'm so sick of this stupid misogynistic and sexist narrative being pushed from a "girls supporting girls progressive divine feminine" perspective. if you sound indistinguishable from a christian fundamentalist, it's time to review your values.

women are not inherently softer or less capable or more gentle than men. you can choose to live whatever life you want to live, but don't act like shaming women for wanting to live a career-driven life is a "progressive" position. get real.

there is nothing wrong with wanting a life focused on a career. there is nothing inherently "masculine" about being financially independent and i'm sick of these idiotic 1940s sexist ideals being pushed towards young women. if you don't want a life like that, then fine. but do not shame other women or act as if it is somehow against our nature that we can not handle a more difficult career. that's not fucking feminism.

as someone who is a woman of color, a femme lesbian, and a fierce feminist, i'm sick and tired of blatantly misogynistic, sexist, and racist things being pushed underneath this coquette it girl label. AND I AM A COQUETTE BLOGGER. i love this aesthetic and i love hyperfemininity. stop normalizing blatant sexism underneath an aesthetic.

i WANT a career driven life. i WANT to be financially independent and i KNOW that me being a woman does not hinder me from this in any way, shape, or form. being feminine is not equal to being submissive and docile and VULNERABLE in a world that does not want women gaining power and independence.

#im tagging this bc i need people to see this like im actually pissed off #girlblogger #girlblogging #coquette #lana del rey #lizzy grant #coquette girl #this is what makes us girls #girlblog #it girl #divine feminine #divine female #divine femininity #becoming that girl #dream girl tips #dream girl #feminism

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palajae · 10 months

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you and me.

PAIRING... skater!niki x skater!reader | GENRE… figure skating! au, romance, angst, fluff, unconditional love.? | WC... 0.4k | “can we please go back to how we were?”

you cut straight to the point. there was no hesitation and second guessing with niki, there never was. you sit on the bench with your skates still on, an awkward distance away from niki.

“i saw online. why did you say that you wish you were skating partners with haerin instead?”

you had never once felt threatened by haerin. she was a nice, gorgeous, talented skater with her own partner. but to hear your own partner, the one you built years of trust and connection with, supposedly throw it all away was heartbreaking.

“what? it wasn’t like that. i just said it in a moment of frustration. plus, she just wanted some reassurance. that’s all. you know i could never leave you-“

“could or would?” you cut him off sharply. “because it seems like you’re willing to throw this all away.”

your red hands clench into fists.

you can feel him getting defensive, the furrow between his eyebrows prominent.

“y/n, what are you saying? there’s no need to get mad, everyone knows how close we are but i guess she didn’t. i promise i just said it to make my girlfriend feel better.”

he only ever made that face when he was focusing on catching you safely, making sure you weren’t hurt.

“so you’re letting her get in between our relation-our partnership? our careers?”

this time you’re looking straight at him, searching for any signs of what he was thinking.

he pauses, taking a moment to recollect his thoughts before he said something too emotional, too harsh.

“what happened to keeping our personal and professional lives separate?”

you narrow your eyes at him, “shouldn’t i be asking you that?”

niki exhales, scooting closer.

“okay. you’re right. i’m sorry. it won’t happen again. you’re the only one for me. can we please get back on track and focus? can we please go back to how we were?”

you sigh, “it’s not that easy, niki. you have a girlfriend now and obviously, it’s clear she isn’t happy with how we were before.”

whatever “we were before” meant.

he rubs a hand over his face.

“fine. but at least let me ask you this. why do you care so much? you never did in the past with the other girls i dated. you’ve been acting so strange after i started seeing haerin-i thought we wouldn’t let these kinds of things get in between us…”

you don’t say anything, so he continues,

“it’s not like we were dating, we probably won’t ever.”

out of all the times you and niki had both said that—to your fans, to your friends, to your family—

this one hurt the most.

because he was right. and it felt so wrong.

so you take your chance to leave before it showed. but it didn’t matter, because he knew. he always did.

a/n ▸ mwuaha is it gonna be a happy or sad ending (or both)?

part 3/4 | previous. | next.

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @jungwonize @rerequire @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount @hoeshii @love-4-keum @nyanggk @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @yjjungwon @who-tf-soddhi @microwvdstrawb3rri3s

@kflixnet

series tag list ▸ @en-chantedtomeetyou @czlluvriki @berry-and-kkami @jungsunkiggfhffr @wzy3ka @fakeuwus @k1ttylvr @beomsbeanie @geraldsmochi @ohsjy @enhalovie @haechansbbg @mini-garden-won @enhastolemyheart @ionlyreadforfanfics

@sunoodior @ivshypen07 @paleegggoopstatesman @jayhoonvroom @tomomorin

#enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #niki x reader #niki x you #niki fluff #niki imagines #enhypen niki #niki scenarios

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logansargeantsbabymom · 4 months

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Wide Awake

Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Wolff!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Self-Doubt, age-gap (reader is 22), slight smut (just fingering) , oh and slight orgasm denial.

(SOFIA IS A RANDOM GIRL I MADE UP!)

A/N: This was supposed to just be a one off thing but I kept writing and writing and I'm 99% sure that no one wants to read a 25k worded chapter only for it to BARELY get to the whole point/plot of the fic. so there's going to be another chapter (3 at max)

(Also I promise Too Good To Say Goodbye 7 is coming but I was hyper fixated on trying to finish this which isn't happening ) 🫶🏽😊

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

instagram

My dad’s always warned me about getting involved with the drivers. He told me that they’re all too young, naive and that all they’ll be good for is breaking my heart. For the longest time, I believed him. I’ve seen the way some of these young drivers were with girls.

Max cheating on Sofia with Kelly, Lando talking to 3 girls at once and George, well George hasn’t done anything. Point is, I’ve seen how they are and I don’t want to get with one of the young drivers only to have my heart ripped out. AGAIN.

I secretly dated one of the hottest drivers, Charles Leclerc for about 2 months. All was going well we were happy, we had secret dates and maybe I thought he was the one.

That was until one day In Monaco when I showed up to the paddock for Free Practice 1 & 2 I saw him hand-in-hand with Alexandra Saint Mleux. When I saw them together and I realized everything she had that I didn’t. She was at taller than me, skinnier, gorgeous, had flawless skin and had a modeling career. In other words, she was a goddess.

Seeing them together broke my heart and all I wanted to do was curl into a ball and sob, but I couldn’t. My dad warned me about the young drivers but I still went behind his back and did the exact opposite of what he told me not to do. I deserved this.

I had made a beeline for the Mercedes garage just to get out of the public eye but I was so focused on getting as far away from Charles and Alexandra as possible that I hadn’t noticed I was running straight into someone.

I hit this person's body with such force I almost went flying back and I reached my hands out in front of me to try and grab anything for stability and at the same time I felt two hands on either sides of my waist trying to balance me.

I was feeling so many different emotions right now I couldn't even think straight, clearly. I was so angry at Charles for cheating on me even if weren’t technically even dating, sadness because I actually thought Charles was actually capable of loving me, and full fledged embarrassment because I just ran full on into someone thinking about how Charles just ruined my life. And my makeup.

I looked up to face the person I just ran into and tried to profusely apologize for my actions, but when I looked up tho I was met with the most gorgeous brown eyes I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I wanted to stare into his eyes forever but in the half a second it took me to look up I also realized who it was that I ran into.

The 7x WDC Lewis Hamilton.

Even more embarrassment coated my face as I realized that not only did I just bump into someone while trying so hard not to have a mental breakdown but I ran into the Lewis Hamilton, my dad's best and most loved driver. “Oh my gosh Lewis, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going and I really didn’t mean to run into you. Please don’t tell my dad” Honestly, it sounded pathetic. ‘Don’t tell my dad’? what are you, 12?

I stared at him in silence for about all of 2 seconds which felt like an eternity until I saw his lips curled up into a smile and heard a small chuckle come from him. “I won’t tell your dad, cross my heart” Lewis said while making an ‘X’ motion over his chest “Who are you running from? I feel like maybe I'm obligated to know since you ran right into me trying to avoid them?”

My face fell in shock. How did he know I was trying to avoid someone? I mean it wasn't rocket science, if I saw a random girl running to an isolated area with tears streaming down her face, I too am going to assume she's avoiding someone. “I- Uh, Well. See”

“It’s okay, Y/N/N, I’m not going to tell anyone. You also don’t have to tell me if you don't want to but I’m willing to help you avoid them if you do.” Lewis said as he placed a hand on my cheek.

I’ve always found comfort in Lewis’ touch. Actually, I’ve always felt comfort whenever I was in the same room as Lewis. Something about his Aura screamed ‘You’re safe with me’

As much as I wanted to, I knew there was no point in lying because one thing about Lewis is that could read people like a book. Including me. With a long, loud and dramatic dragged out sigh I reluctantly told him the truth.

“I was seeing Charles behind my father’s back for about 2 months, everything was going well and I actually kinda thought he was my person but I just now saw him hand-in-hand and all cuddly with Alexandra.” Tears sprung in my eyes and threatened to fall as I recounted what I saw a few minutes prior to Lewis.

He had a sympathetic look in his face and I could tell he genuinely felt bad for me. The hand Lewis once briefly had on my face had moved down to grab my hand before he whispered, "How about this: Tomorrow we wear almost matching outfits and we come back here also hand-in-hand. We'd be together all day and we'll be cuddly too. You know, just to make Charles jealous and regret cheating on you."

Lewis was always putting people's well-being ahead of his and it made a shy smile creep onto my face. As much as I want to, maybe I shouldn't read too much into this though, he's probably just being nice to me to stay in my father's good graces.

"Lewis," I whispered as I placed my hand on his cheek "You don't have to be nice to me because I'm your boss's daughter"

he looked a bit hurt by my accusations. "Is that why you think I'm doing this?" his hand squeezed mine a little tighter.

"Why else would you, Lewis?" his hands came up to cup my face forcing me to look at him.

"Because Y/N/N, I-" he paused, almost like he was trying to find the right words to use. "I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world. I've seen you sneaking around with Charles and it took so much in me not to go over there and tear you away from him, to show him that you're mine. I know I'm older than you but I'm wiser and I'll treat you better than he can." My jaw dropped, there's no way that Lewis Hamilton, a 7x WDC is head over heels in love with me, right?

"Lew, I-" a voice interrupted me, turning my body into stone and my blood into ice.

"Y/N!" I knew that voice anywhere and if he saw the moment that me and Lewis just shared, we were both dead.

"Dad! Hi!" I tried to sound enthusiastic but I was so flushed from Lewis' confession.

"My baby," His hands cupped my face inspecting the red all over "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine, I'm just hot. You know how the sun is in Monaco." I said with a shrug, trying to change the subject

"Oh you have to go in the AC! Lewis," my dad turned to face Lewis who was already facing in our direction

"Yes, Toto?" he said as he cocked his brow.

"I need you to take my darling girl inside. She has a condition where she can't sweat which causes her to overheat and pass out. I am too busy with this race and getting everything perfect to be worrying about my daughter having a heat stroke."

"Oh, jeez, thanks dad. Just send Lewis to do everything for you" I said in a playful tone

"Of course Toto, I'll take her in right now." Lewis said as he walked over to me and linked his arms with mine.

Lewis started guiding me through the garage and to his driver's room where he opened the door and gestured me in. Once inside he closed the door before facing me with unsure eyes.

"What's wrong Lew?" I said as I cautiously walked over to him.

"What were you going to say before Toto cut you off?" his voice so low, I almost didn't hear what he said.

"I was going to say," I stopped right in front of him, our chests were touching. We were so close I could feel his breath against my skin. "I think that you have to prove what you said about treating me better than how Charles did."

Lewis grabbed my face and pulled me into a searing kiss, our tongues fought for dominance but his won. Lewis picked me up and sat on his couch with me on his lap so I was straddling him all without breaking the kiss.

His hands found their rightful place on my hips and applied pressure forcing my hips down as I rocked my hips to apply more force against his hardening cock.

"Mmm, you taste so good. I can only imagine how much better you taste when I'm eating your pussy." Lewis mumbled against my lips as his hands went just a little bit lower to stop at the elastic of my leggings. I guided Lewis' hands under the fabric to release some of the tension building in my core.

He understood what I needed and quickly started to run his middle finger up and down my fold, collecting all my juices before inserting it in my pussy. Lewis slowly moved his finger in and out of my hole while using his thumb to rub circles on my clit. His movements were slow and sensual bringing me closer and closer to my orgasm. I started rocking my hips into his palm to add more friction to my core and to chase my orgasm which I really needed right now. I was just about to go over the edge until a knock at the door quickly halted both of our movements and caused Lewis to yank his hand out of me leaving me without finishing.

"Mate, FP2 starts in 15. They need us by our cars now" The voice of George could be heard from he other side of the door.

“Oh fuck me” I grunted as I pulled myself off of Lewis’ lap

“Trust me, I was planning on it” He said with a smirk on his face as his hand came to rest on my ass before giving it a smack.

Lewis poked his head out of the door to make sure no one would see us leave, after the all clear we quickly rushed out of his room, both of us going in opposite directions as to not get caught.

————

The next day I heard a knock at my hotel door at the early hours of 6:00am. With a grunt I pulled myself out of the comfort of my warm and cozy bed and made my way to the door. Whoever was interrupting my beauty sleep was going to get a mouthful, I’ll tell you that.

“Do you know what time it is?!” I whisper yelled as I opened the door, not even bothering to look through the peephole to see who I would be yelling at. And boy do I really wish I did look because I was met with the tall, beautiful, muscular frame of Lewis Hamilton.

“Woah honey, I told you we were going to the paddock together. We need matching outfits” Lewis said while looking at me up and down "Do you by any chance have a matching Tommy Hilfiger set?"

"No?" I said, a little nervous

"Perfect, I bought you one that matches mine so put this on" Lewis said as he handed me a bag of 4 different sets.

"Lewis, there's four sets in here. Which am I wearing?" I said I let him in my room and watched as he took a seat on my bed right were I was once peacefully sleeping.

"Wear whichever one you want and I'll match it. I didn't know which of those four you'd like so I bought them all." My heart fluttered a bit at his confession.

--------

When Lewis and I pulled up to the race and got out of the car, we walked to the entrance hand-in-hand.

Charles and Alexandra were the first people to spot us and I took notice on how Charles dropped Alexandra's hand. When I saw that I squeezed Lewis' hand and leaned into him to tell him

"Lew, it's working. He dropped Alexandra's hand" I said with a smirk on my face.

"Wanna give them a show?" I cocked my brow at what he was suggesting but reluctantly nodded my head.

Without thinking twice, Lewis pulled me into a kiss, his hand finding their place to rest on my ass while mine traveled to the back of his neck to pull him deeper into the kiss.

I heard a strings of words which I'm assuming were curse words before I heard faint shuffles of feet echoing away from where me and Lewis were stood. Faint footsteps weren't the only thing we heard because next thing you know we heard clicks of camera shutters.

I pulled away from him with a horrified look on my face.

"Lewis! My dad might see those!" I don't think I was ever more scared in my life than I was in that moment. My dad can't know that I'm sneaking behind his back with Lewis. Well technically this is the second day of this 'sneaking around' but still, he doesn't know."

"Do you want to be with me Y/N/N?" He said dead serious while interlocking our hands

"Yes"

"So you shouldn't care about the pictures and your dad's opinion. Not everyone is going to accept our relationship but that doesn't matter because this relationship is between us. Not them"

"I need FP3 and Qualifying to end ASAP because I so badly want to suck your cock."

“I’m holding you to that” Lewis said as he swatted my ass. Surely the press people got photos of that and when those get out. I’m gonna have a fun conversation with my dad

It took us about 15 minutes to get the Mercedes Hospitality area because of all the fans asking for pictures, Press asking questions and other drivers asking what Lewis thinks he’s doing going out with me.

I almost took offense to that but quickly realized that they didn’t mean it in a rude way but more as a ‘you better be careful because if you break her heart, Toto will never resign you to Mercedes’ type of way.

When we entered, we were met with the angry eyes of my father.

“Lewis.” He said stern, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose “what are you doing with my daughter?!”

“Sir,” Lewis started but my dad cut him off

“Y/N/N, I told you not to go off with the drivers!” His voice raised, not too loud to be classified as yelling but a couple octaves louder than how it was before

“Actually, you said no messing around with the younger drivers. Lewis is older and more wise” I said as I grasped Lewis’ hand tighter.

“What are your intentions with my daughter?”

“Well sir, I intend to give your daughter the best life I can give her, I want to take her everywhere with me, I want to spoil her, I want to have her move in with me, I want to be her husband and I want her to be the mother of my kids.” Lewis squeezed my hand as he said that last sentence.

I never thought about being a mother, I never felt like it was an obligation of mine. I never thought that I wanted kids but hearing Lewis admit to my dad that he wanted me to be the mother of his kids sparked something in me. Lewis made me realize that deep down, I longed to be a mom and now I wasn’t going to be happy if I wasn’t.

“I will kill you if you break her heart.” My dad stated as he stared in Lewis’ eyes as if to try and intimidate him.

—————

It's not the best but I promise the plot is to die for!

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti@dhanihamidi @Ggasly.p @tellybearryyyy

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venusacrossthestars · 7 months

Text

Doughnut Holes

Pairing- Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

A/N: I literally hate this, this is a hodgepodge of randomness, I'm so sorry. I also really want a doughnut hole now. This is @arieslost doing, we couldn't stop talking about Lando and I loved every second.

WC- 6k-ish

F1 masterlist

One might compare the inner workings of a Formula 1 team to a carefully crafted house. You had the foundation, walls, floor, roof, all of the main components that made a structurally secure house. Then you had the fluff- all the things that weren’t technically needed but the things ultimately made a house, a home. Without the fluff, the house was nothing but a cold, unwelcoming shell.

You would be considered a part of the fluff, you were among those who brought the warmth, the love, and all of the things that the others didn’t. While McLaren didn’t necessarily need you to run successfully, it seemed that a certain driver did.

Lando considered McLaren to be his second home, after all, he does spend the majority of the year with them. The people, the constant movement, nothing was ever still and for the most part he enjoyed it. His whole career was based around speed, but sometimes he couldn’t help but wish for it all to slow down.

Like everyone, Lando had his good days, and then his not-so-good days. The latter becoming more and more constant. It would start off with something small- waking up five minutes before his alarm went off, putting on a pair of socks only to find one had a hole in it, or arrive at a meeting- only to find out that all the doughnut holes were gone. Then it would escalate, it could be anything, from learning that something was wrong with the car to having media duties after a terrible qualifying. Lately, anything that could go wrong was going wrong.

The first time Lando had met you, well more like the first time Lando saw you, was no different. Lando had woken up late, couldn’t find a pair of matching socks, and had a half-dead phone because his charger had broke the night before. He didn’t care for meetings when he was in a good mood, and he certainly cared for them less when he was in a bad mood. By some miracle, he arrived on time for the meeting but not nearly early enough for a doughnut hole. Lando closed his eyes for a moment, he could hear as more and more people entered the conference room and hoped that this day could only get better.

“Mate, you look like crap.” Lando’s eyes snap open and turn to the Aussie driver who looks at him with a frown.

“It really hasn’t been my morning, more like it hasn’t been my week. Nothing is going right and frankly, I’m sick of it.”

Oscar gives him a sad smile, “I’m sure things will turn around.”

“I hope so.”

The meeting had begun like every other meeting, a promise for a good season, what was being worked on, the same old same old. However, they weren’t even at the twenty-minute mark when another person entered the conference room. Lando, like everyone else in the room, turned their heads to the newcomer.

“Sorry,” the newcomer squeaked out, clearly embarrassed by all the attention focused on her. “I’m just here to drop off the flash drive you forgot Zak.”

“Oh, thank you Y/N, what would we do without you?”

“Crash and burn, sir. Crash and burn,” the girl- now known as Y/N replied with a smile. And although you weren't smiling at Lando, he really wished you were.

You had left as quickly as she had came, the only thing left in Lando’s mind after the meeting was your smile and the fact that his day had gotten miraculously better.

Bad days didn’t typically phase you, it generally meant that things would only get better.

But, walking in late to a meeting you weren’t even a part of was not the pick me up you needed. The day had already started out rough- your car wouldn’t start, your sock had a hole in it, and worst of all- catering was out of doughnut holes by the time you got there.

It was a quick 1, 2, 3 drop and go but there were so many important people in that room, including the two McLaren drivers. Even though you didn’t do anything remotely embarrassing, you were up that entire night overthinking it, but in reality, it wasn’t like anyone was going to remember the girl who simply dropped off a flash drive.

A week had passed since the meeting, and things were looking up for little Lando Norris. He had matching socks, a working phone charger, and most importantly he was holding the last powdered doughnut hole. However, he had not seen the girl from the meeting anywhere. It wasn’t surprising with how many people were coming and going, each had their own responsibilities. That didn’t mean Lando wasn’t disappointed, there was something about that girl.

A quiet ‘son of a bitch’ caused Lando to snap out of his thinking, as he turned to face who was muttering such profanities so early in the morning he was met with the slight of you standing at the catering table.

“Everything ok?” Lando would be a fool if he was going to let his opportunity to talk to you slip through his fingers.

“Huh?” you responded almost unsure if the Lando Norris was talking to you.

“You just swore? So I’m assuming something happened?”

“Oh, it’s nothing really, its just that- never mind it's stupid.”

“Not stupid enough for you to be swearing at 8 in the morning.”

You wave your hand dismissively, "it's just that I woke up on time and got here early all for a doughnut hole and there's none left.”

Lando casts his eyes down to the napkin in his hand that contains the last doughnut hole and holds it out to you, “here you can have mine.”

You look down at his extended hand and bring both of yours up in protest, “No it's ok. I think I’ll survive without it.”

“No take it, I shouldn’t really even be eating it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely positive,” Lando says as he holds his hand out further.

“Thank you,” you take the precious breakfast treat with little hesitance and pop it into your mouth.

“I’m Lando by the way,” Lando holds out his now empty hand.

“I know, I’d be surprised if anyone working here didn’t know who you were.” You tease, grabbing his hand with yours and shake it.

“Oh, I supposed you're right.” Lando rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, ‘way to make a complete fool of yourself, obviously, she knows who you are’ he thinks.

You giggle at his response and offer him a smile, “I’m Y/N,” but before you can say anything else you are interrupted by the shrill ringing of your phone, “and I am needed elsewhere, have a nice day Lando. It was lovely meeting you.”

Lando watches as you answer the phone and scurry off elsewhere, but he is definitely going to have a good rest of his day now, not even the lack of a doughnut hole could bring his day down.

Before what you and your coworkers now call the doughnut hole occurrence™, you've never interacted with Lando, there were a few occasions where you happened to be at the same meeting as him, but never enough for him to notice you or have him introduce himself. Now, however, you seemed to be seeing him a lot more, well more than the other McLaren driver. Maybe, it was because both of your schedules lined up or it was like that phenomenon where you see one certain car, then all of the sudden you’re seeing that car everywhere. But what changed in the matter of weeks that now he was everywhere?

You would be lying if you said you didn’t find the British driver attractive. But you were two separate worlds away, you- an assistant who was a constant people pleaser, and he was, for a lack of better words, himself. You didn’t consider the two of you friends, hell you had one conversation with the guy over a breakfast treat. You didn’t even really consider the two of you colleagues, you both ran in different circles of the racing world. That fact didn’t stop you from giving him a smile every time you saw him and to your, and your coworker's surprise, he would give the small gesture a return.

You truly hated being a people pleaser, especially now more so than ever as you stood outside the door of Lando’s driver room. “Stipud Debbie, stupid saying yes. ‘Oh Y/N they need a temporary assistant for Mr. Norris. I told them you’d be perfect for it', ” you mimic Debbie, your supervisor. “Why couldn’t I have said no?”

Many of your co-workers liked to joke that you were a jack of all trades. That you could be pushed into the deep end without knowing how to swim and learn that second. You were a quick thinker, that's how its always been. But even the most flexible of people had their limits, and you were currently staring yours in the face.

Lando didn’t know what to expect as he opened the door of his room to the hallway, but he sure as hell wasn’t expecting you of all people to be standing there muttering to yourself.

“Can I help you?” Lando asked, puzzled as to why you were here.

“Sorry, I don’t know if you remember me, I’m Y-”

“Y/N, “Lando interrupts, “I remember you. You’re the girl I gave my doughnut hole to.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s me,” you chuckle out, “it looks like I’m your new assistant for the foreseeable future.”

“I don’t really see the need for an assistant,” Lando says. His words cause your face to fall, and he quickly tries to backtrack, “It’s nothing personal but during the season I am either- traveling, racing, doing media duties, or sleeping. So I really don’t know who said I needed one.”

“I don’t know either, Debbie, my supervisor recommended me and now here I am,” you gesture out, “and I really don’t want to tell my boss that you said that.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find something for you to do. I mean I do, do things.”

“Ok,” you draw out with a nervous breath, “I mean I am a bit of a people pleasure. As long as you don’t ask me to do anything gross, illegal, or really immoral I think we’ll be fine.”

“See those are all the things I need an assistant for,” Lando jokes. He notices how your shoulders lose some of their tension. “But if you are my assistant does this make me your boss?”

You seem to ponder his question, “Maybe, but probably not.”

“Fair enough.”

The first few weeks of working for, or more with Lando have proved to be smooth sailing. You weren’t being pulled in eighteen million directions, nor were you running around like a headless chicken. Lando was right when he said he didn’t really need an assistant. You probably answered a few emails, some phone calls, ran out and have gotten him a few random things but that was about it.

There were also a few things you have learned about Lando during your time together. He never demanded, he always asked politely- something that your previous employers and co-workers never did. He also always insisted on eating meals together, anytime he ate he always made sure you were eating too. Lando also talked a lot, not that it was a bad thing, at first it was a bunch of small talk- he asked about your family, if you hand any pets, what your friends were like, what kind of hobbies you enjoyed, things like that. Then he would ask your opinions on things, what he should wear, what sandwich he should get and once joked with you, “you’re my assistant, you should be telling me what to do anyways.” It almost felt like a friendship instead of an employee-employer relationship.

Today was no different, Lando was going on about some TikTok he saw the previous night, a TikTok that he had already sent you. “And the dude wiped out and ate shit. I’m telling you, that while I felt bad, I almost peed my pants from laughing so hard.”

“The way he landed, there is no way he didn’t break a bone or several.” You responded not looking up from your computer.

It was hard working with a funny, talented, kind, handsome man. A man whom you were already attracted to without knowing him and getting to know him, the really Lando Norris, was only making it worse.

“Let's do something, I’m dying of boredom,” Lando drones out, flinging himself down on the couch next to you.

“Lando, I am trying to reply to some of your business emails, y’know my job.” you continue to type away, trying to emphasize your point. However, you are rudely interrupted when your laptop is ripped out of your grasp.

“The emails will still be there later, let's go do something!” Lando exclaims now dangling your computer away from you.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, I was hoping you’d have an idea.”

“Yeah, I got one.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it's called giving me back my computer so I can do my job,” you deadpan as you lunge for your computer. Lando's reflexes however are much quicker than your movements, so you are left pressing into him, computerless.

You quickly sit up and turn away from him, trying to hide your embarrassment. By doing so you miss the small frown that Lando gives at your quick retraction.

Lando however quickly recomposes, “I know,” he stands, “let's go bowling!”

“Bowling?”

“Yeah, y’know, the game where you basically throw a heavy ball down a lane and try to knock down the pins.”

“I know what bowling is you doof.”

“Then why’d you say it like that?”

“Because out of all the options in the world, you pick that.”

“For your information, I like to bowl.”

“Yeah, you also like to golf. You really like your old man sports huh?” You tease.

“Hey! That’s not very nice missy,” Lando waves his finger at you mockingly.

“Fine, I apologize Mr. Norris. I would love to go bowling.”

“Yippie!”

“Lando?”

“Yeah?”

“Never say that again.”

“Yeah, right, sorry.”

Lando was excited, he actually didn’t know why he picked bowling. Truthfully, he just wanted to get out and do something, preferably with you. These past few weeks with you as his assistant have been amazing. Not because he had someone running around doing his bidding, but because he had someone to talk to. At first, it felt weird talking to you, he kept asking you random questions. He didn’t want you to feel pressured into answering him just because in some run-around way he was your boss. He wanted you to feel comfortable around him, and he could tell that the more he joked around with you, the more at ease you felt.

The two of you walked down the hallway towards the exit, talking seemingly about nothing. Well, you were doing most of the talking, not that he minded, he could listen to you ramble for hours. Whenever you were around, everything else became fuzzy. He noticed how your eyes got a certain twinkle to them as you talked about your favorite things. He knew how you loved Oreo cheesecake, and that your favorite doughnut holes were the red velvet ones, but since catering didn’t offer those you had to choose your other favorite, powdered sugar, and that you also had a distaste for fish, claiming it tasted like how still water smelled.

He tried to show you that you were more than an assistant to him. He always made sure to eat with you, he never demanded anything, he asked your opinion on important things. Lando knew, however, that those things were the bare minimum, hence why he asked you to go bowling.

“Where ya going?” The familiar accent of Lando’s teammate stopped them in their tracks.

“Hey Oscar,” you turned to great the Australian, “Lando wanted to go bowling, so I guess we're going bowling.”

“I haven’t been bowling in forever. Last time I went I had to play with the gutters up.”

You gasped, clasping your hands in front of you, “why don’t you come with us?”

Lando froze at your invitation, he was hoping that it would just be the two of you. He could see Oscar's gears turning in consideration. He looked at you then behind you at Lando, who was shaking his head and moving his hand in front of his neck, trying to tell his teammate to say no.

A grin split across Oscar's face, “y’know what, I would love to go bowling with you and Lando.”

At Oscar’s response, you swiftly turned back around to Lando, who swiftly changed his movement. Rubbing the back of his neck he gave you a sheepish smile, “great, the more the merrier I guess.”

The drive to the bowling alley was painfully quiet, normally the silence would be filled by Lando’s rambling but the Brit had no quirky comments. This led you down a spiral, did you do something to upset him? Was he mad at you for inviting Oscar? You thought the two of them were close and that Lando would’ve invited Oscar anyways after running into him.

The three of you entered the alley still in silence and frankly, you were fed up with it, “is this a bad time to say that I am absolutely terrible at bowling?”

“No,” Lando speaks up, “it just means that I am going play the easiest round of my life.”

The clerk hands you your shoes and assigns your group a lane. “I feel like a clown with these shoes,” Oscar admits.

“You look like one too,” Lando deadpans.

“Jeez, no need to be rude.”

You look at Lando with a raised brow. You can't tell if he is joking or not.

“Anyways,” you but in, shifting their attention to you, “How are we going to decide who goes first?”

“It’s only fair that the master goes first to show the peasants how it's done,” Lando declares.

You and Oscar share a look of ‘can you believe this guy?’ “Go for it then all mighty master.”

You watch as Lando goes for his turn, and much to Oscars and yours amusement the ball goes straight to the gutter. The little screen over the lane plays a silly animation indicating that Lando, had in fact, not hit a single pin.

You are unable to control your laughter, tears pool in your eyes. You have to hunch over in your seat in order to keep your laughter at bay.

“It’s not funny,” Lando pouts.

“You’re- you’re right,” you wipe at your eyes and take a deep breath, “it’s not funny. It’s fucking hilarious.” You managed to get out in between a fit of giggles.

“You're lucky your laugh is cute,” Lando waves his finger in warning.

Your stomach flips at his admission. Your laugh, cute? Your gaze meets Landos and he is quick to turn around and go for his second turn.

“Did I hear that right?” you whisper to Oscar.

“Yup,” is all he offers in response.

You hear a collision of the ball and pins followed by a loud “SPARE!” from the overhead TV, indicating that Lando has in fact struck a spare.

“See I just needed a warm-up,” Lando says wiggling his fingers at you and Oscar. “Who’s next?”

“Ladies first,” Oscar gestures for you to stand.

Rolling your eyes you stand, “wow, so chivalry isn’t dead.”

Walking over to the lane you can’t help but look back at Lando, who gives you a double thumbs up. Taking a deep breath you throw the ball down the lane, and to your surprise, you manage to hit, not one, not two but four pins.

“Not too bad,” you hear Lando from behind you.

“All those years of Wii bowling must’ve paid off.”

“Just don’t throw it backward.”

“I make no promises.”

Your next toss is much better, out of the six pins left you managed to knock down five. You turn around to gloat but the two McLaren drivers are in discussion, Lando looking pissed off and Oscar looking unapologetic.

“Is everything ok over here?” You stand with your arms crossed staring down the two of them. You came out to have fun, not to babysit two pissy twenty-something-year-olds.

“Everything is fine,” Lando snips out.

“If you say so, Oscar you're up.”

The Aussie groans, “you both did good, this is going to be embarrassing.” He points to you, “I thought you said you were bad at bowling.”

“I’ve channeled the Wii bowling Gods and they have blessed me, maybe you can do the same,” you tease as you sit next to Lando.

You turn your attention to Lando and quietly ask, “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well you were quiet on the drive here, you’ve been a little bit snippy towards Oscar and I. And just now- you were talking to Oscar and you looked pissed off.”

“I’m fine.” Lando shrugs off your worrying.

“He’s just pissy I interrupted your alone time,” Oscar interjects.

“You went already?” Lando asked, surprised by the quickness.

“Yeah, it goes by fast when you roll two gutters in a row.” He shrugs nonchalantly.

“Wow, you really are bad,” you admit, “but what do you mean by ‘our alone time.”

“Nothing,” he shrugs again.

Lando is quick to get up, seemingly uncomfortable with whatever Oscar meant by ‘alone time’. Now you really need to know.

“Oscar,” you poke him in the shoulder, “what did you mean by that?”

“Like I said, nothing,”

“You might be able to act all innocent and good in front of the cameras, but you Oscar Piastri are the biggest shit-stirrer of them all.”

Oscar just shrugs at that, leaving you to wonder what he meant. Did Lando truly just want to spend time with you and only you? Was this just because Lando saw you as a friend and wanted to hang out. Or was this as an ‘I want to get to know you better because I like you and could potentially have feelings for you?’ hang out? The first one, you rationalized, it's definitely the first one.

The rest of the game went in a blur, too focused on what Oscar said and what your overthinking brain was processing.

Lando has never felt more uncomfortable and furious at the same time, and all because of Oscar’s comment. He really shouldn’t have let it get to him, it was just a friendly jab, Oscar knew how Lando felt about you. He also couldn’t get the look on your face at Oscar's comment out of your head. You probably thought he was a creep or some weirdo.

The ride back, albeit not as uncomfortable as the ride there, was still filled with this silence that Lando did not care for.

“Mate, how did you manage to roll a gutter almost every single time?”

“I don’t know, it's almost sad,” Oscar admits.

“Oscar, it is sad,” you but in, “there has to be a statistic out there or something saying it's harder to do that than actually knocking down pins.”

“You’re one to talk,” Oscar exclaims, “you still lost.”

“Yes, Master bowler Mr. Norris reigns supreme. But at least I managed to score points. I even got a strike! That’s more than you can say!”

“I am never hanging out with you two again. You are the worst.” Oscar huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and stares out the car window like a pouting child.

‘Good’ Lando thinks to himself. He would’ve said it out loud but after you had asked him what was wrong at the bowling alley he tried to be in a better mood. Granted, having Oscar come along wasn’t what he had in mind when he asked you to hang out with him, but he still had an alright time. Plus, he did get to hang out with you, which was better than sitting around doing nothing while you answered emails.

“I think I’m going to call it a night,” you told Lando once back in his driver's room.

Lando whipped his head around to see you packing up your laptop and other miscellaneous belongings scattered around the room. “What? But it's still early.”

“Yes, and I still have emails to answer remember?”

Lando groaned at the remembrance, “but I’m still-”

Lando stopped at the sight of your raised palm, “If you say you are still bored I am going to smack you, and besides I think you need to call it an early night because you were extremely crabby with me and Oscar earlier.”

“Crabby? I’m not a toddler who forgot his nap.”

“Are you sure? Because it was hard to see the difference earlier.”

“I just wanted to hang out with you.”

“And you did hang out with me, did you not?

“Yeah, but Oscar was there too. I just wanted the two of us to hang out.”

“Lando you see me every day, we ‘hang out’ all the time.”

“No, you’re working most of the time,” he corrects you.

“We get nearly every meal together, no? You send me TikToks, funny tweets, reels. You meet me after all your media duties, qualifyings, and after the races. We see plenty of each other.”

“Do you not like spending time with me?” Lando asks dejectedly.

“Did I say I didn’t like spending time with you?”

“No, but you also didn’t say you liked spending time with me.” Lando points out.

You roll your eyes and Lando watches as you walk closer to him. Lando feels the heat of your palms through his shirt where they lay on his shoulders. His brain nearly short circuits, while this isn’t the first time the two of you have touched one another, this one feels different.

“Lando I like spending time with you,” you shake his shoulders. “Maybe a little more than I should.” It’s quiet and Lando knows that he probably wasn’t meant to hear that. However, he feels relieved at the statement, knowing now that the feeling is mutual.

You smile again, “as I said earlier- I still have emails to answer and you should get some rest, you crabby toddler.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he waves you off, “Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?”

“Of course, Goodnight Lando.”

Lando can’t help the grin that breaks out on his face, and it stays that way till he falls asleep.

It's the next morning and you are tying your shoes on when there is a knock at your door.

“I’ll be right there, just give me a second,” you call out.

You make it to the door and when you open it you are greeted with Lando’s smile. However, your view is obstructed when Lando all but shoves a brown paper bag in your face.

“What is this?” you ask taking the bag, “it's not a dead animal is it?”

“Do you think I'm so sort of psychopath?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Just open the bag.”

Hesitantly, you unroll the top of the bag and peer inside. Thankfully, it's not a dead animal, instead in the bag lies half a dozen red spheres.

“You did not!” You exclaim, and you can’t help but break out into a grin. “Where did you get them?”

“I’ve never seen anyone get so excited over doughnut holes,” Lando laughs.

“They aren’t just any doughnut holes! You got me red velvet doughnut holes, my favorite.” You pull Lando into a hug. In which he wastes no time returning your embrace, savoring the way you fit perfectly in his arms.

“See I remember things, especially if they are about you.”

You pull away, mostly from the shock of what you just heard. You can feel your cheeks heat up, and quickly you clear your throat, “Thank you, Lando, I really appreciate it. Do you want one?”

“How can I refuse a pretty girl like you.”

Your jaw drops, and Lando looks nonetheless phased as he pops the ball of dough in his mouth.

“So on the agenda today is-” you begin, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach, pulling your phone out to see what is actually on the agenda for the day.

“Nope,” Lando snatches your phone from your hands, “I’m kidnapping you for the day.”

You stare at him dumbfounded, “what?”

“You and me are officially off the clock for the entire day, no meetings, no phone calls, and no emails.”

“I mean that's kind of you, but why?”

“Why not,” he shrugs, “I thought you liked to hang out with me,” Lando wiggles his eyebrows.

Your palm meets your forehead, “I’m definitely getting a headache by the end of today,” you mutter.

“I hope that was a comment about how excited you are to hang out with your favorite McLaren driver.”

“Who said you were my favorite?”

“Ouch, I buy you doughnut holes and this is how you repay me?”

“How ever will the little Lando Norris survive?”

“Come on you loser, I have kidnapping duties to attend to.”

Who would’ve thought that skipping work with the person you work for could be so fun? Lando had all but dragged you from tourist attraction to tourist attraction, shop to shop. It almost feels like a date, he opens the door for you, offers to pay for your trinkets, all the things a boyfriend would do. You are quick to remind yourself that this is just a friendly outing, just two friends hanging out.

The topic of dinner was being thrown around, after eating junk all day the two of you needed some substance, “I was thinking sushi,” you tease.

“I know you're joking because you also hate fish,” he points out, “I was thinking more Italian, I know a place.” Lando grabs your hand and drags you in what you assume is the direction of the restaurant.

“Did you have fun today?” Lando asks as the two of you are seated in what feels like a set right out of a romance movie.

“I did, thank you.”

“I’m glad, I felt bad for my behavior yesterday. I felt like an ass.”

“Is this why kidnapped me?”

“No,” he quickly shakes his hands, “I did this because…” Lando trails off.

“You did this because?” You urge him to go on.

Instead of giving you an answer he scratches his chin and looks shyly at you. Your mind automatically goes to the worst-case scenario.

“You’re firing me, aren’t you,” you rip the band-aid off, no point in beating around the bush, “I should’ve known it. First, you get me my favorite treat, then you take me all around the city. Oh my God, I should’ve known.” You slump down in your chair and cover your face with your hands.

During your spiral you failed to notice how Lando’s eyes nearly bludge out of his head, he too is now panicking.

You feel Lando’s warm hands as he reaches across the table to grab your wrists, “Y/N, god no I’m not firing you,” you still refuse to look at him afraid that if you do you’ll burst out in tears. “Come on baby, show me those pretty eyes.”

That grabs your attention. Your head quickly shoots up, “what did you just say?”

“Um, that I’m obviously not firing you?”

“No, no, after that, you called me baby.”

“Yeah, it um slipped out.”

“Oh,” is all you can manage out.

Lando lets off a soft curse, “I was going to tell you after dinner, but the reason I was pissed off yesterday was because I wanted to take you out bowling, kind of as a date?”

“As a date?” You ask in disbelief.

“Yeah, but then you invited Oscar, and I tried to get him to say no but that little shit doesn’t know how to take a hint. Or more like he does and just wanted to see me suffer. He didn’t make it any better with those little comments,” Lando rambles on, “what I mean to say is that I kind of have liked you since you interrupted that meeting a couple months ago.”

You have never been at a loss for words like you are at this moment. “You,” you point to Lando, “like me,” then point to yourself.

Lando nods, “Why though? I mean why me?” you ask.

“Well at first I thought you were cute, you look so frazzled but yet you held your confidence. Then you smiled, and I wanted to be the one you smiled at so badly. I thought I would never have the chance to talk to you but then there you were, swearing at the lack of doughnut holes, and I couldn’t believe the universe had given me a second chance. Then you got a phone call and scurried away before I could ask for your number or anything like that. I was so mad at myself for the following weeks. I couldn't get your laugh, your smile, your snarkiness out of my head. Then you were outside my door saying you were my new assistant, and I almost turned you away.”

If you were lookin in a mirror the only way to describe how you looked right now would be similar to a deer in headlights

Lando continues, “then, these past few weeks, I’ve gotten to know you more and more and I couldn’t help falling more and more. So yesterday I was planning on confessing after bowling but then Oscar joined us and I was pissed off and I took out on the both of you.”

“Oh. This is a walking HR disaster,” you jokingly mutter.

“If you don’t feel the same I understand. And I won’t be upset if you don’t want to work with me anymore.” Lando quickly adds in.

“But I do feel the same. I’m just confused,” you admit.

“What are you confused about?”

“You’re a famous Formula 1 driver, you are so big in this world that McLaren probably wouldn’t be able to function if you left. I’m nobody in this world, if I left everyone would go on like it's a normal day.”

“You’re not nobody to me. I need you to function.”

You smile at his admission, and you close the distance between your hands on the table, “I would consider this an amazing first date.”

“Really?” Lando asks hopefully, “I kinda just complied a bunch of stuff together hoping you would like it.”

“I loved it,” you admit before a look of horror flashes over your face, “I didn’t say anything after your confession, did I?”

“You don’t have to,” Lando interrupts.

“But I want to, that morning when you gave me the last doughnut hole I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was just a small gesture that made my day. I thought I knew who Lando Norris was before then, an attractive Formula 1 driver who just so happened to drive for McLaren-”

“You think I’m attractive?” Lando giggles.

“Yes I do,” you sigh out, cheeks burning at the thought of saying the rest of your feelings out loud. “But you quickly became Lando, the person who asked about the little things, the person who got to know me. All the little quirks that make me, me. I was trying so hard to stay professional, not let your little touches, the way you would talk, or all the times you insisted on getting lunch with me, all those things get to me. I was surprised when you offered me your last doughnut hole but I am so thankful that you did.”

“I guess we should thank catering for never ordering enough doughnut holes for this?”

“We should, I guess that doughnut holes can be our thing.”

“Of course, they can be our thing.” Lando pauses, “Does this mean we’re dating now?”

“Take me on another date, an official one this time, and you got yourself a deal.”

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