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leclsrc · 1 year

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do you want it? ✴︎ cs55

genre: summer love!!!, slight age gap, porn w plot basically...

word count: 10.5k

Whatever preconceived notions you have about your summer at the beach house are all toppled over when your parents announce the arrival of a guest, who happens to be your dad's friend. title from this

auds here… hiii :) req'd by several people! few notes... carlos is aged up a tad, the age gap is 21/33 so not too bad (i aged him up bc the age gap was 7 yrs and i was like. Huh. thats tame). if ur not into that (tho everything is consensual and reader is legal) its ok! anyway im sorry this came so late i had like 6 anons asking ab carlos and lana haha. also big thanks to dani whose work got me thru 4 writing ruts

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, dry humping, oral sex (m and f receiving), deepthroating, semi public sex ish?, praise central, size kink, like a flash of spit kink sorry..., overuse of the term good girl

Half past noon and after a particularly snappy call from his manager, Carlos bites the bullet on summer plans and decides to accept what is arguably the least glamorous offer on his roster. By no means a dazzling standout, the offer to stay at a family friend’s house in Comporta seems to be the most comfortable option—besides, he doesn’t feel himself to be in the glitzy mood for cities like Los Angeles or Monaco.

Lando, beside him, is thus the first to get wind of the news that “grumpy old man” Carlos will not be accompanying him to the ultimate, tequila-flavored “summer extravaganza” in Morocco.

“You’re boring,” Lando moans, pacing the room. Outside, London’s skyline moves passively. Carlos hangs up his phone call with his assistant, receives a picture of his flight details, and looks up amusedly.

“Portugal is not boring.”

“Morocco. DJs, drinks, girls.” Lando raises one hand. “Comporta. Family friends, apple cider, sand in your eyes.” He raises another hand a few inches lower. “See the difference?”

“I appreciate the difference.” Truth is, Carlos has needed this kind of quiet, calm time off for a while now. The season gets heavy and intense and tiring, and sometimes just staying by the beach with a beer is the best kind of reprieve.

“You’re getting old,” Lando says with a sour grimace. “Old.”

“That is,” Carlos says, searching for the word, “defamation.”

Lando shrugs, moves off the subject as he shoves a handful of crisps into his mouth. “Are you meeting family there?”

“No.” Both of his parents are out of the country for the next few weeks; Carlos was invited by his dad’s friend, though the bond they share is more friendly than just the standard uncle-nephew type of relationship, and they often refer to each other as just friends. “Just friends. Gallery owner and a company owner, I think.”

Lando whistles. “Rich.”

In response, Carlos nods. “And their daughter, who’s visiting from university in the States.” The details are fuzzy in his head, but the gist is about right.

“Sounds boring,” his friend snorts. “Come on, mate. You, me, Daniel. One last chance to watch Peggy Gou’s set and take shots and have fuuun.” He says the last part with the suave that would only rival a preteen’s.

Carlos, for a second, lets his resolve waver. Maybe it would be better watching loud DJ sets, dancing, getting all flushed with alcohol. But he blinks and shakes his head anyway. He hopes his decision is the right one, that summer in the beach house ends up being worth it. It’s a few weeks by the beach, anyway—what’s the worst that could happen?

—

Any recollection of your childhood almost instantly connects to the beach house in Comporta, big and wide and right by the coast. You spent fall, winter, and spring in a constant bumbling state of excitement to spend summer there. Your parents owned it, and often offered family friends to take up residence there when summers in the city got unbearable; for the most part, though, it was the three of you and, on rare years, a guest.

Your summers there have since smudged into the same few memories, of your mum and dad’s faces, of swimming and the learning curve of sailing, of bonfires by the beach on cold nights. And they have since become just that: memories. Summers grew sparse with time, and eventually the idea of meeting distant family friends became more embarrassing than exciting; by the time your parents moved you out of Europe for college, you’d lost almost all memory of the house.

So when your parents ask if you want to fly back to Comporta and spend a few “quiet” weeks there, you figure there’s no harm in seeing what the house is like and what summer can offer you beyond the weekly club outings. Instead of the usual quiet and overall lack-of-bustle that comes with summers, however, you open the front door to three housekeepers dusting every surface in your immediate eyesight.

“Are we hosting a wedding?” You ask when you find your parents tending to two sweaty glasses of champagne. You gesture faintly to the cleanfest inside. “What is going on?”

“We have a guest,” your mother says as she gets up to hug you tight. “Staying for the summer.”

“You said this summer would be quiet,” you deadpan, eyes narrowing underneath your sunglasses.

Your mum pinches your elbow. “I wasn’t lying,” she defends, raising her eyebrows. “Carlos’ son is coming.” She pats your arm. “You know? The race driver! He’s close with your father.” And, leaving no space for you to voice your dissent, she slips back into the house through the screen door, your father kissing your cheek then following suit. Your mouth parts, thoughts beginning to rush with implications of what your mother has just told you.

Carlos—if you’re correct—is Carlos Sainz, Sr., a good friend of your dad’s, and his son is Carlos Sainz, Jr., another good friend of your dad’s, because if there’s one thing rich Europeans do well, it’s the repetition of names. You’ve never met his son, only heard of him and seen a few pictures, but being so far detached from life here, you can’t even shape his face.

All you recall is the fact that he should now be thirty or older, which makes him rather older than you—and therefore effectively incapable of providing any break from any possible summer boredom. For fuck’s sake, he’s close to your dad. You’re at the top of the stairs when you hear the commotion by the front door, peeking at the foyer to catch a glimpse of him.

He’s solo, you observe; upon a glance into the front parking, you notice he’s driven here in a Ferrari, one a bit too modern for your taste but beautiful nevertheless. He carries only two pieces of luggage, and the sun blinds you for a moment before he’s finally at the doorframe, smiling politely, talking to your dad in casual Spanish.

He is, for lack of better word, insanely handsome. He wears a polo that shows off much of his arms, that flex as he puts down his luggage to shake hands with your parents; you follow the movement of his hands to watch one comb through his thick hair, then down to his smile, back up to his brown eyes, deep and so, so pretty.

Maybe this summer deserves a little less begrudge, you decide as you retreat back into your room, still brewing with residual annoyance.

Your parents send him off after a drink and a brief conversation, catch-up, tour of the downstairs area. Carlos knows his room is supposed to be upstairs, but the problem arises in the fact that there are two upstairs rooms and he doesn’t know which one he’s supposed to be staying in. Setting his luggage down for a minute, he knocks on the first door; permissive silence greets him for half a minute, so he turns the knob and prepares to enter.

To his surprise, he finds somebody already inside, a figure by the mirror on the other end of the room. What catches his eye is not the tiny skirt, but the half-tied bikini top currently being wound around two fingers at the centre of your back. You’re basically clothed, but Carlos can’t decide if he’s thankful or not—he doesn’t have time to when you catch him in the mirror and turn around quick, mouth agape.

“Can’t you knock?!” You ask, catty.

“I did—I knocked, but you—there was no answer,” he explains profusely. “I’m Carlos. Sorry, apologies. Truly.”

You introduce yourself. You’re his friend’s daughter, this and that, and you’re visiting from the States to spend summer here. He apologizes again when you finish.

“Well, seeing as though this is my room,” you shoot back, “that must be yours.” You gesture vaguely to the one down the hall. Amused and a little embarrassed, he mouths apologies as he closes the door.

Carlos exits, departs and doesn’t have time to take in the room before he’s facedown on the bed. Any sleepiness he’d collected from the trip over, from the day drinks, from the headache that’d been blooming at the temples of his head, has dissipated. His mind’s been imprinted with one image only, and it’s down the hall in a tiny skirt.

—

Lunch brings lemonade and pasta, two staples for every summer meal. You, however, find yourself hopelessly distracted by the presence of your guest, and despite your best efforts, the churn in your stomach disables you from fully enjoying the carbonara on the table. The conversation between Carlos and your dad ends up taking your attention instead. “So you’re racing again in a few weeks?”

“Sí,” Carlos nods in-between forkfuls. Then, to add, “Busy, busy times.”

“Well. It’s the worst of our days,” your mum says, a quote she picked up from—of all places—a BBC sitcom she watched to tears last winter. “You are a talented driver, Carlos. Very cultured. I’m sure you’ll enjoy Comporta.”

“I have not been around much,” he says; his gaze flutters over to his glass, which is devoid of water or lemonade. “Any recommendations?”

“A lot, cabrón. Our daughter will be happy to take you around,” your father says on your behalf. He turns to you. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, sure,” you say, allowing a terse smile. “There’s some places around here that aren’t so boring. But that’s being generous.” Carlos laughs at your joke, raucous and goofy, and you would definitely be lying if you told yourself it didn’t get you blushing a little bit, eyes casting themselves to your still-full plate.

“While you’re here, Carlos,” your dad continues, “I have an old car in the garage that could use some looking at. Are you—would you know how to—?”

Carlos nods, accepting the favor—then the conversation naturally slides into one of cars and racing. Carlos chronicles his journey in Formula One, his Toro Rosso days back then when he was younger, his McLaren period, and now, his time representing Ferrari. He talks of pet peeves on the grid, annoyances but also praises for the sport.

“I’d appreciate the downtime, actually,” he explains, “that I’d get from working on a car instead of in one.” He laughs, eyes briefly meeting yours. He looks away, then looks again. He can’t help himself. He wonders if he’s being obvious, if you can tell the way his looks are anything but casual. “Can you pour me a glass?” He adds.

“Yeah,” you mutter, sitting straight to pour lemonade into his waiting glass. You meet his eyes and almost pour it over the pasta. The rest of the lunch is uneventful, a series of adult conversation you can’t seem to engage yourself in fully, and whether that’s because of personal preference or Carlos’ presence, you don’t make an effort to try.

“…ney. Honey.” Your mum’s voice distracts you from your thoughts; when you look up, half the table is clear and Carlos and your dad have ventured inside to deposit plates at the sink.

“Sorry. Wh—sorry, what?” You blink.

“Your father and I are heading out for the evening. Carlos will be working on the car. That okay, or you want to come along?”

“Um…” You pretend the latter is even an option before shaking your head. “No, I’ll stay.”

“Good.” She strokes your hair. “He could use the company.”

You follow her walking figure inside, where you station your eyes on Carlos. He’s sipping a lemonade. His eyes meet yours for a second and your face is outrageously flushed when you realize you’ve been caught staring, just like his had been earlier when he walked into your room.

—

You’re hellbent on solving a Sudoku puzzle when the dinner bell rings, and you have to finish it on the stairs. Your dad’s always been a stickler for arriving to dinner on time—every meal, but a gargantuan emphasis on the last—and you’ve been victim to scoldings about being five to six minutes late, an instance you don't wish to repeat.

9, you scribble, bare feet moving with speed through the living room, indoor dining room, then to the patio door. 4 comes next, your footsteps following the smell of grilled meat. 8, you write as you turn into the outdoor dining area. You’re halfway through 2 when you stop, look up, and find Carlos preparing dinner.

“Oh—” You pause. “You rang the dinner bell? Are my parents not…?”

“They are at a dinner,” says Carlos, eyes meeting yours briefly. It reminds you of earlier and you clear your throat, looking away. “So I hope my cooking is good enough.”

“It smells great,” you offer, seating yourself down and pouring a glass of wine. He sets the plate down—just-cut steak, a smear of potatoes. “Christ, you cook better than Dad.”

“I take that as a compliment,” he laughs, sitting across you. “Listen, I want to apologize for accidentally walking into your room earlier.”

Your face warms. “No, it’s okay. I was just surprised.”

“It was wrong of me. Let’s start over. I’m Carlos.” He reaches over to shake your hand, still standing. You take it, eyes flitting over his hand, spotting no glinting ring on his finger. With a saccharine smile, you assure him it was an honest mistake, so he segues into a different topic, the corners of his mouth turning up. “So, do you have an itinerary for me tomorrow?”

You hum, passing the wine over to him. “A bookstore, an ice cream parlor, and a bike ride. Anything else is seriously not worth it. You’ll have the next few weeks to explore town. If the house gets that boring.”

“I haven’t been bored so far,” he says, eyes glinting.

“Oh?”

“You know, with the car fixing.” He points vaguely to where the garage is. “But it’s only been a day.”

“Car fixing is boring,” you state matter-of-factly. “You’ll have fun tomorrow.” You cut into the steak and bite into the forkful you stab at, eyes fluttering.

“Good?” Carlos asks, smiling a little.

“I love it,” you mumble. “You’re so good at this, Carlos.”

Carlos retires to his room that night, and finds that today has held a collective motif of losing his shit. He’s anything but sleepy. Restless, wild-eyed, combing hand after hand through his hair. God, if he’d known you were this pretty—this hard to resist, on his first night here, no less—he would’ve been watching some DJ spin out a set with Lando right now.

Instead, he finds he can’t stop himself from thinking about you, the way your eyes had fluttered when he tried saying something on the edge of flirty. Your hair. Your hands, your fingers, lithe around the stem of your wine glass.

I love it, you’d said, you’re so good at this, Carlos. You knew exactly what you were doing, skittish tone putting him on edge. Despite himself, he can’t help but squeeze himself through his pants when he sits down on the edge of the bed, breathing heavy to purge himself of thoughts so low and dirty.

You’re so pretty. You’d be so easy to wreck, make his, goad little moans out of you, get your lips around him, puffy and pink and pretty. He wedges his eyes shut tight and hopes these thoughts will dissipate as the week passes.

Something tells him he’s wrong, though.

—

The tour is delayed because your dad insists he go fishing with Carlos three days in a row, but eventually (likely due to your mum’s insistence) it pushes through. You greet him with a smile, waiting by the door, wearing a sundress. Sundresses will definitely be his demise.

You’re a good tour guide, though, Carlos figures when you’re finished pointing at every turn and sign and dictating what goes where and where the passage to the coast is, when you’ve even quizzed him about where you are and where the house is supposed to be.

After he points in the correct direction, you nod approvingly. “That’s how my dad made sure I wouldn’t get lost,” you explain when he laughs at your choice of tour guidance.

“And you were what—twelve?” He asks, walking beside you. It’s fairly empty in town, a few tourists mulling about carrying shopping bags and plastic cups of juice.

“Try fourteen,” you argue.

“Well, quizzing a, uh—a fourteen-year-old is really not the same as quizzing a grown adult.”

“Ha. Call me when you can’t find your way home tonight,” you diss sarcastically, making a turn toward the bookstore down the street. “Okay, here we are. Don’t get too excited. They’re just books.”

For a relatively empty town, the bookstore always has new batches of titles, displayed proudly for natives and tourists alike front and centre. But you’re already going to the right side of the store, busying yourself with looking at the signs.

“The classics shelf is always my favorite,” you say, already walking ahead of him. Your dress bobs softly with your legs as you pace, short and sweet and white. You turn and his eyes slide back up instantly, and he hopes he was quick enough. “Do you have any authors you like?”

“I am not a big reader. You?”

“Huge,” you say, smiling a little. “Okay, we can browse. Are you into any genre…?”

Carlos proceeds to tell you his track record in the literary field includes: reading half the Harry Potter series, a car manual, and a few other titles in Spanish he cannot recall the name or plot of. But, he adds, he’s always wanted to read, found the activity so quiet and still and perfect, so he allows you to lead him through the titles stacked on each table and condensed on each shelf. He points at, sometimes, or picks up covers he finds appealing.

“How about—?” He reaches for a pink cover that reads It Ends With Us, but your hand loops around his wrist before he can pick it up and you’re pulling him into another aisle.

“…Not that.” You continue perusing the books around you, your hand still wrapped around his. With your free finger, you point at the top shelf, and tiptoe against the bookcase to try and get it. You come close, but not close enough.

Carlos, behind you, is successful, not even needing to tiptoe to reach for the red hardbound you’d been pointing at. It also means he’s pressed up against you, heavy and big, and the sensation dizzies you. When he finally pulls it off, you turn to him and find respite in the proximity—you two are so close, every exhale out of your lips causes a puff of air to blow against his hair.

He steps backward. You smile and gesture toward the book he’s holding. “That’s a good one.”

“Gabriel Garcia Marquez.” He reads out the author’s name in one fluid sentence, his Spanish accent becoming naturally more obvious.

“Okay, colonizer.” He knits his brows. “Trust me,” you insist. “One Hundred Years of Solitude—so good. It was one of the first books I read front to back twice in a row.”

“Wow, what an honor,” he teases sarcastically as you move along the aisle, fingertips brushing against the indents of the books. You turn to narrow your eyes and stick your tongue out. Unfortunately for Carlos, the effect this inflicts upon him is not oh she mocked me, but oh how would it look if—

He needs ice cream. Or to just get out of this aisle.

—

You punctuate the day with two cones of it, melting way too fast in the heat of summer. He’s already half-finished with his vanilla, and you’re taking your time with the lemon sorbet you’d gotten for yourself. Apparently, this is the only other highlight the town has to offer, and judging by the fact that most of the other stores are expensive clothes, souvenir shops, and a Bible bookstore—yeah.

Carlos is also more than sated with the three books in the paper bag he’s holding. Scratch that—six books, you bought a haul for yourself—but it’s not a particularly heavy load, so he’s fine. His phone has been buzzing with Lando’s update requests that he’s been deliberately ignoring.

“They make the best ice cream,” you rave, smiling. You lick over the melt on your lips. “Right?”

He might actually drop his cone now. “It is delicious.”

“Well…” You look around, your hair flying with every turn of your head. Lick over lips again. Again, and again. He has to look away.

“…Do you wanna stop by anywhere else?” You turn to him and ask, licking over the tip of your ice cream cone.

It’s hard for Carlos to pretend he’s looking around your surroundings, at the signs and storefronts, and not at your sticky lips, your pink tongue just peeking out to lap at the quickly melting gelato around your hand. His eyes flit downward, to where the hem of your tiny white dress has flown up in the coastal wind, exposing more of your thighs.

“Carlos?” You repeat, voice sweet and waiting.

He snaps his eyes back up and wills his voice to remain passive. “We can head back.”

So you do, meaning your tour ends around noon, and your parents greet you both with lunch and the round of inevitable questions. Did Comporta live up to your expectations? What books did you get? Was our daughter a good tour guide? The latter, Carlos answers with a smile—very good. You allowed your face to flush, blamed it on the sangria.

Now, though, it’s the brink in-between chilly and hot, sticky traces of the summer afternoon still lingering in the air, mixing with the cool of dusk when you decide to exit your room and fix yourself a glass of something, preferably sweet and alcoholic. An empty driveway save for a Ferrari means your parents are gone, leaving you and—if you’re lucky, which you hope you are—

“Carlos,” you call out from the window you’ve just tugged open with the expertise of somebody who’s lived here for twenty-one summers. “Thirsty?”

He looks up from where he is, outside, continuing his operation on your dad’s car. The hood’s been cranked open, and his long hair is damp with sweat, flying gently in the face of the sunset breeze. He smiles when he sees your figure peeking out.

“For what?”

“Whatever you want,” you respond, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. His white shirt’s stained with oil and dirt, tainting it beige and grey, the tight fit even tighter from his sweat. You can make out the outline of his abs just underneath.

He squints. “Beer?”

You make an exaggerated eugh face to tease him, but duck back inside to bring your homemade aperol and an open, frosty beer outside. When he sees you, he walks closer, smiles and takes a swig of the drink you offer. He makes a noise of satisfaction and you have to make a real effort to maintain a semblance of normalcy, eyes averting from his lips to gaze instead at his solid shoulders, his build, big and tall.

“What’s the problem with beer, hmm?”

“Tastes like shit.” You raise your aperol. “The sweeter, the better. How’s Dad’s car?” You blink, sidestepping him to try and gauge his progress.

“Casi termino.” You look at him, raising your eyebrows, and he translates. “Almost done. It wasn’t that destroyed, if at all.”

“You think he’ll let you drive it when you’re done?” You ask playfully, swiping your condensation-wet finger over the side of the car. You turn, smiling expectantly; Carlos laughs a bit, shrugs.

“It is just a favor. But if he does, I’ll make sure you get to come along.” He says. “You like that?”

“Mmm,” you nod, sipping on your aperol. You part from your straw, lips stained, and smile up at him. “I do.”

His gaze is stuck on your lips. You lick over them, and he looks away with a slow blink. You watch as he ruffles his hair, rounds the car and crosses his arms to view it from the back.

God, he’s handsome. You think of the long-winded nights you’ve been spending trailing your fingers over your legs or texting inspired paragraphs to friends back in university about him. Their responses are almost always Send pic now and a cacophony of heart eye emojis when you manage to snag a stolen shot of him doing just about anything.

His gaze is scrutinizing, every little detail of the car, and eventually he closes the hood again. “Should be good by tomorrow.”

“Where’d you learn to fix cars?” You ask sweetly, nearing him. The wind bites at your legs, your flowy skirt bouncing sporadically and held down by your free hand. When your eyes flit to his, waiting for his response, you find them snapping upward. He’d been distracted.

“I work with cars, so it comes natural.” You lean on the hood of the car and he comes to stand in front of you, his eyes pointed downward at you. “That’s not a very good habit,” he adds.

“Drinking?” You pout, raising your half-empty glass. You blink up at him, the corner of your smiling lip caught in your teeth.

“Biting your lip.” His gaze is intense. “You do it a lot, I noticed.”

You smile, leaning backward a little. His resolve is breaking. “Can I borrow one of the books you got earlier?”

“The three ones you bought not enough?” He raises a brow, downing beer again. Some of it dribbles out of the corner of his lip. You’ve never been one to like the taste, but you’d lick it off him if you could.

“I just wanna browse it,” you push. “I’ll return it tomorrow.”

“Fine,” he relents. “I’ll give it to you tomorrow.”

—

He sees you the next day after lunch, which you’d skipped because you “weren’t hungry.” You’re wearing a dress, hair clipped into a bun when you excuse yourself to pick up an earring in front of him. He almost thinks it’s a fib until he sees it, the pink gem on the floor.

“Sorry,” you say, voice mellow, and then you’re bending over to pick it up. You’re wearing pretty lace panties underneath.

Carlos clears his throat and excuses himself, adjusting his shorts as he goes upstairs.

—

He gives you Norweigan Wood after dinner, like he promised earlier in the week. Two raps on your door, and when you open it, he’s already handing it to you with a quiet smile. “Goodnight,” he says, his voice clipped.

“Our tour isn’t over yet,” you tease, tossing the book onto your bed and descending the steps back downstairs. Confused and interested, he follows you, to the back area of the house, past the swinging screen door, down the steps, and onto the sand.

“Tour?” He repeats, for clarification. The only things to tour are sand and twigs.

“Yeah, Carlos. This is the real tour,” you joke, walking backwards. Every step sends your foot sinking into the cold sand, slowing your pace until Carlos catches up, matching your steps once he does. “Comporta—real and unfiltered.” You both laugh at your hyperbolic, MTV-worthy statement, and he waits for more, entertains you further.

“What is so real about this?” Carlos laughs, allowing himself to humor your little schtick.

“Well, mister. This isn’t bookstores and ice cream parlors.” You point to a nearby spot in the sand, just by a rogue stick. “This is where I smoke without getting caught. Near enough that I can run back in seconds, but faraway enough that my parents can’t immediately see what I’m doing. Granted, I don’t need to be sneaking around much, but if you ever want to do something in secret—”

The implication sends Carlos into a spiral of thought.

“—here’s your spot.”

“So you smoke,” he says when he sits himself on the sand, observing the now-dark skyline of the area. You continue pacing around a little, and when you raise your arms up to stretch, he catches a glimpse of your abdomen, the waistband of pink lace underneath the low rise of your denim shorts.

“Occasionally. Don’t play Holy Mary,” you warn, standing in front of him and stretching your hand out to reveal a box of Marlboro Reds.

“Wasn’t planning to,” he responds, taking a stick and inserting it in between his lips. “Got a light?”

“No,” you tease, taking one for yourself and sliding your lighter out from your pocket in one quick motion. The flame illuminates your face, casts a light on your thin white tee and on the bikini top you have on underneath. You puff out a small cloud of smoke, and Carlos reaches up to take the lighter.

“I said no,” you giggle, your lips knotting into a pout. You hold the lighter just out of his reach, red and bold against the bleak evening.

“Give it.” He sits up higher, reaches harder; he almost gets it, but you step backward and raise your arm out of reach. Again your shirt rises with the movement. The view he gets, this time, of your hips, the lace that hugs the area there, is much more close. The laugh you emit sends a cloud of smoke out.

“No, no,” you continue, laughing, a sweet sound.

Carlos gets up, tries again to lunge for the lighter. At this point he doesn’t even care about the cigarette in between his lips, just wants to entertain you. He tries again but you’re quick with it, ducking every lunge just in time.

“Come on,” he goads, laughing himself. You pace backward, smoking, until your ankles hit the shallow shore water, water that goes deeper and deeper until you’re knee-level, still smiling at him mischievously.

“Fine,” you relent, shrugging. You throw your hands up in surrender, in the process taking the stick out of your mouth to blow smoke out. “Do you want it? C’mere, then.” You beckon him closer, wave the lighter tantalizingly so he steps closer, closer, until you’re holding the flame to the cigarette between his lips.

He’s so tall, he has to bend a little to let you light it, his eyes meeting yours, illuminated by the pale moon and the orange of the flame.

It all goes to plan. Once you light it, you place two hands square on his shoulders, whirl him so he’s behind you and thus even deeper in the water, and with all your might, push him into the sea.

“Brat—” he manages to gasp out as he goes, the word leaving his lips in the first and last puff of smoke he lets out. He surfaces, every dip and ridge of his abs and chest accentuated, his linen polo near invisible with how saturated it is with water. His long hair, too, sticks to his forehead; he combs it backward, reveals his amused-irritated eyes, the dead cigarette spouting seawater and ash.

He spits it out. You stare and pinch the soggy stick in between two fingers, stuffing the trash into his chest pocket. “That’s bad for the environment.”

“I am freezing,” he says in response, but you’re just stifling a laugh.

He narrows his eyes, and with unsurprising ease given his build, picks you up and carries you over his shoulder. You barely have time to protest, almost dropping your own cigarette into the water, kicking and pounding on his back to please put me down. You can feel the water getting deep, deeper, and when he finally dunks you in, it’s only a second of dryness before you’re submerged in the chilly water.

Your cigarette dies, and you manage to collect it, because you’re not in the interest of leaving your stick floating; you wedge it into your pocket.

“You’re such”—you gasp for air—“a dick!”

You’re smiling, though, flailing your legs to stay afloat. Carlos can’t help but stare, entranced with the way your eyelashes stick together, damp, the droplets of water on your cheeks, your two hands wringing saltwater out of your hair, and when you swim upward, the way your white tee leaves nothing to his imagination.

You can tell. He can tell you can tell—because the next thing you do, with some faux exaggerated sigh of annoyance, is say, “Can’t swim, too heavy,” and you’re taking off your shirt so all he sees is the red of your bikini top underneath. The white tee bobs softly with each passing wave, and you’re smiling up at him. Checkmate, you’re saying. I’ve got you. A skittish, playful smile on your lips.

“I can help you swim,” he offers—retaliates, more like, his height offering him great advantage. He finds your bare ankle underwater, guides it to wrap around his waist. Naturally, your other leg follows until you’re flush against him, held up by him so you don’t need to wag your legs around just to stay above water.

Your hands go on his still-clothed shoulders first, then eventually around them, fingers linking at the nape of his neck. Your smile is wicked. You’re so sinfully pretty. He wades deeper, holds you all the while, two big hands on either side of your waist, thumbs rubbing over your sides so you can shiver.

“‘M so wet,” you say, voice shaky with chill and laughter. His grip tightens and he has to squeeze his eyes shut to try and pretend you didn’t just say that.

He dips you underneath the surface to surprise you, and your shriek is cut off by the water—he pulls you up quick, laughing, but underestimates his strength because as he tugs, you barrel right onto him, forehead bumping his.

Your eyes are closed, and you momentarily detach from him to wipe salt out of them. “Ass.”

“Brat,” he responds.

You open your eyes to find he’s close, so close you could just lean forward an inch—an inch—and you’d be meeting his lips. You wonder how they feel, how he kisses. He’s confident everywhere else, would he kiss you like that, too? You lean closer, a wrecked gasp escaping you.

“You’re so pretty,” you say, and it’s supposed to be teasing, but your breathy voice is genuine, honest. A thumb swipes over his eyelashes, causing him to blink, then the bridge of his nose. He leans upward, tries to catch your lips, but pauses, his eyes fluttering open and closed.

“This is wrong,” he says in a quiet breath, making no move at all you stop either of you from kissing right now.

You want—need—to kiss him, but you can play the long game if he wishes to. Your eyes flit back up to his, dark brown and reflecting the moon.

“Then let’s head back,” you suggest, even if both of you want anything but.

Long game. He guides you back to shore, picks your tee up, uses it as a sieve for any loose ash and cigarette bits in your path back to shore, even finds your red lighter that’s now dispensing water. He apologizes for not having anything to dry you with, and drops you off at your room with a puddle in both of your wakes.

“Thank you again,” he says, his voice a whisper through your ajar door. He observes your room with what little vantage point he has. The posters on the wall, the art, postcards. The laptop on the bed, open. The phone charging on the nightstand. The thong hanging out of the hamper.

“No problem,” you say back, voice saccharine. Your hand wraps around his wrist. “See you tomorrow.”

Even if you’re doused in seawater, he can still smell the traces of your perfume, the summery sweet of it, when you close the door. He stays for a second, blinks, relishes in the hint of floral.

—

You spend three days walking on eggshells around each other, testing the limits of interaction.

Your night at the beach was risky, dangerous, thrilling—but it was fun, sending you both into antsy, restless trains of thought. Carlos self-medicates with coffee, beer in the afternoon, working on your dad’s car, and the first two hundred pages of the Marquez book you insisted he pick up. He spots you sometimes, lounging on the beach with his book in your grip, the waistline of your bikini bottoms leaving a tanline he can’t stop staring at when you walk back into the house.

But he can’t act on it—he was the one who labeled it wrong, the one who suppressed himself, held the urge back. He told you it was wrong. And it is wrong. He’s older, he should be wiser; he’s close with your dad; and a cacophony of other rational reasons he shouldn’t be playing into this skittish summer crush.

“Dad said the boat’s free,” a voice says, and he looks up from his book to find you standing in front of him, wearing nothing but a bikini top and a skirt, loose and riding low on your hips. Your lips stretch into a sweet smile. “Wanna come?”

He really shouldn’t. “Sí.”

So he goes. He’s thirty-five. That’s a grown age. If anything, he’s capable of making sure he stays responsible. He dog-ears his page and picks up his beer to follow you to where the boat is docked. He’d been on your dad’s yacht earlier in his trip here, to go fishing, but it’s quieter today, bobbing softly atop the water. You lie yourself down on the sunny side of the boat, sunglasses over your eyes.

“Stay anywhere you like,” you say charmingly. It’s silent for a while, Carlos seating himself on one of the lounge seats in the shaded area, and then you’re moving around on your towel.

You peer over your lenses, blinking and sitting up, and this is when he knows he can’t do it.

“Carlos,” you call out. “Can you put sunscreen on my back?” You get up again, rifling in your bag for the bottle of sunscreen, dragging a hand through your hair to comb it out. It falls in loose waves, swishing when you turn to hand him the bottle. He pretends he’d been distracted on page 210 when he accepts it, watching as you sit in front of the seat, your back turned to him, your little figure in-between his spread legs.

A minute passes with no hand at your back. “Go ahead, move even slower,” you joke, and the tension breaks a little; he humors you, laughs and apologizes.

“It’s because hour hair is in the way,” he says, touching it gently, combing it to the side.

“Wait—” You dig through your bag again and pull out a blunt pink ribbon, slipping it into his hand. “Can you braid it for me?”

“Braid?” He doesn’t know jack shit about braiding hair. “I don’t know how.”

“At that age of yours and you don’t know anything about how to please a girl,” you whistle lowly. “Adult virgin?”

But you guide him through it despite your teasing, teaching him to divide your hair in threes, weaving one strand over the other until “it looks half decent.” He fucks up a few times and your hair looks odd at some point, but in the end, it’s—well, it’s a braid.

“How is it?” You ask, and he can hear your smile.

He does the job well enough for a first-timer, he thinks, finishing it with the ribbon, which he ties loosely lest you’re unhappy with the finished product. It becomes easier to move your hair out of the way, and once your back is saturated with sunscreen, you unfold your legs and get up, turning around and smiling down at his sitting figure.. Loose tendrils of hair frame your face, the braid resting at your back softly, already loosening.

“Your hair can be braided, too,” you comment quietly, knotting a rogue few strands in your fingers. It hasn’t been this tense since that night at the beach, but that ended before the tension rose further—this, now, keeps going. You step closer and he leans back, smiling. “Can I?”

He blinks, nostrils flaring, then nods, his grip on your hips gentle when you sit on his lap, your legs on either side of his. You smile coquettishly, feeling how hard he is underneath you, the denim of his jeans rough against the skin of your bare thighs. Your skirt’s riding up on them with every little shift you make, just to rile him up.

Carlos drinks in the sight of you, sunkissed and on his lap, legs sprawled out, pretty little face framed, bottom lip in your teeth. You’re inviting him closer, your gaze meeting his with sleepy, demure eyes—do something. You look so fucking precious, so pretty. It makes him want to give you everything right now.

You reach forward, make an attempt to try and weave his hair together—but he grinds upward, your breath hitching and a whimper punched out of your mouth.

Your hands are shaking now, barely able to piece his hair together with how good his clothed cock feels pressed against you, where you need it most.

“Carlos,” you gasp, and all he can really think is—where’d all your fight go? You were so used to being a brat and a half, now you’re whimpering, on the edge of begging.

“Be quiet,” Carlos grunts, digging his fingers into your hips. His other hand lifts your skirt, bunching the fabric around your hips for a better view of your cunt rubbing against the bulge in his pants. The damp fabric of your panties is swallowed between your lips with every grind you make forward and he has to stop himself from cursing out loud at the sight. “Good girl.”

Your hands move from his hair to his shoulders, sturdy and broad; you can feel him squeeze your waist with both hands, then pull you down against him, just once, so your weight presses down on the hard shape of his cock. It makes him shudder and you whine out loud. You resist the urge to grind over it; you’re already so wet you’re making a mess on his jeans.

His praise, mumbled deep and slow in your ear, gets you feeling all warm, almost ditzy. Your hips roll on their own, chasing the delicious drag of rough denim against your clit, slick soaks into and through your panties, making the material cling to the shape your folds. Carlos’ hands are rough when they wander and grope, hiking this godforsaken skirt up so he can press a thumb against the centre of your folds.

“Been so good for you, Carlos,” you whine, circling your hips against him. He can’t stop staring at your pretty, fucked-out eyes, your bitten lips. He shoves two fingers in-between them, imagines how they looked just a few days ago slick with ice cream—now your tongue is laving over his hand. The braid you'd just taught him is quickly unraveling with every nod of your head. “‘M gonna—can I—” The pleas leave you quick, your voice choked.

Euphoric, your mind lifts, foggy and saturated with pleasure, the braid almost completely undone now. His praise is so addictive, gets you worked up and needy. Come on, he says. Make a mess. His accent, his deep voice, the way it rumbles right through you—his voice drops, his touch a little heavier as he presses harder.

You gonna cum for me? His thumb rubs faster until you’re gasping, shuddering, little ahs leaving your lips. He’s got the upper hand now, but you can hear the strain, the suppression in his voice as he rubs over the soaked fabric; you feel his cock growing under you, getting harder.

P—please—I want to—please let me, you say breathlessly, and you’ve never needed it to the point of begging before, but Carlos is different. He keeps going, doesn’t give you permission, rubbing faster, your heart hammering in your chest.

Feel good?

Y—yeah, you whimper, trying your best not to fall apart here, on your dad’s boat, where anybody could walk on—or maybe see you from afar, humping your dad’s friend in broad daylight. He loves watching you like this; you’ve somehow become even prettier, face flushed and voice shaky.

Come on, he goads. Be a good girl. Cum for me.

It’s the only instruction that matters to you right now, your body seizing with it and cute little moans escaping you as you finish. You catch your breath against his chest, craving warmth even if it’s hot—maybe you’re craving him, his touch, Carlos, just Carlos. You maneuver yourself so legs, exhausted from shaking, are on one side of his body—he holds you close, humming.

He rubs a steady hand across your lower back, gentle and firm and you want him so much more now. “Are you okay?” He asks. “Talk to me.”

“Perfect,” you pant against his polo, fingers playing with the stitching, tugging the collar down so you can mouth at his skin. His hand plays with what’s left of the braid, winds the pink ribbon around his fingers. “Let’s go for a swim.”

—

“And we drove the jet ski around, too,” you say gleefully, your damp hair bobbing with every move of your head. Your face is sunkissed, a little sore from being in the sun for most of the afternoon. Carlos laughs along from where he is at the grill—he’s cooking for dinner, on a quest to make burgers because he’s known for making the best ones back in Madrid, apparently. Your dad, of course, insists on joining, and the two have been asking and answering questions while you and your mum sip rosé at the table.

“Did you have fun?” Your mum asks, her head turning to address Carlos.

“Yeah, tons,” he replies with a smile, his eyes meeting yours for a brief second. You know what he means. It’s been only two days since the afternoon on the boat, and since then you’ve mostly swam and ridden around on the jet ski with Carlos—nothing more.

“See, sweetie,” she adds, placing a hand over yours. “I told you this summer would be fun with him around!”

“Mmm, yeah,” you say, nodding and parting from your glass, “I can really count on him for some excitement.” The statement catches his attention and he almost trails off, eyes returning to yours, before he continues speaking in Spanish to your dad about something or other.

The burgers’ reputation precedes them, and is warranted, you learn later when you’re biting into it for the first time. The remainder of dinner passes by in lively conversation, the sun setting low underneath the Comporta horizon, wine taking the place of rosé. Carlos mentions the racing world again, about how he’ll be back into the thick of it sooner than later, and you pulse with something akin to sadness.

Your parents, apparently so grateful for the blessing that is Carlos’ burgers, offer to clean up and before long, they retreat to their downstairs bedroom. Upstairs, you marinate in your thoughts, blinking up at your ceiling, twining your pink ribbon around your fingers as your hair dries splayed over your bedding. You let your arm down, in the process bumping your elbow against a hard surface.

Upon investigation, you find it’s a copy of Norweigan Wood.

Carlos is at his desk, taking a timezone-separated call about simulation and season prep, when two soft knocks go at his door and it creaks open. He turns the chair away from the desk to see who it is. An ankle steps in first, then more leg, and then you—in a lovely, pretty pink lace dress, your face illuminated by the moonlight outside. One hand clutches a copy of his book; the other, the ribbon he’d used on your hair earlier.

He’s nursing a bottle of beer, just to help ease the drag of the day, and he watches you approach him, your footsteps quiet against the hardwood of the floor. Wait, he mouths, finishing the call in a hushed tone, and when he hangs up you approach him again.

“I thought you should have this back,” you say, offering him the book. Your eyes rake over him, wearing the same getup he’d worn to dinner—denim jeans, because he’d ducked out to buy food, except he’s ridden himself of his shirt.

He takes the book, places it on the table, continues staring up at you. “And I thought you should keep this.” The ribbon, pale pink, is now looped around his wrist and tied into a delicate ribbon at the apex of it. You admire your handiwork with a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

You lean down, face just shy of his. “We shouldn’t,” he manages to eke out, his voice strained.

“But you want to,” you respond softly. “No one’s going to know. Our little secret.”

His eyes are shut, contemplating, and then he’s kissing you—the only thing you’ve wanted, craved, touched yourself to the thought of over the course of the summer. You reciprocate immediately, parting your lips to let him kiss you deeper, a whimper leaving your mouth. He kisses like he knows he’s a good kisser, and he really is. His scent is intoxicating, a drug, sending arousal and desire straight through you.

You part, eyes half-lidded as you stand straight again. You cock your head slowly to the side, and with your head’s movement your hair follows, gathering on one side. It exposes much of your shoulder and collarbones, which lay underneath the thin lace dress you wear to sleep, and which is now subject to Carlos' unwavering stare. He has no shame, eyes raking over you, up and down and back up. One hand curled around a bottle of beer, the other coming up to slowly graze the back of your thigh.

Your breath hitches. “Do you like the dress?” You ask softly, teasingly. It’s nothing special, Carlos, you seem to say; it’s just a nightie.

His hand is rough against the thin skin of your leg, traveling upward. He gives you a nod in response; he does like it, the sheer material, the pink color, the loose way it hugs your body. Roughly, he voices his assent. “Come sit on my lap.”

“Wait,” you say, pouting. Your knee rubs softly against the material of his jeans, and you slowly sink onto your knees, hands placing themselves on your thighs. His grip goes from the back of your thigh to your hair, combing it softly, cradling your face.

“Let me,” you say, letting your silence imply everything unsaid. He’s going crazy, losing his mind.

“So pretty,” he says, nodding. his voice thin. “Go ahead, baby.”

The petname gets you dizzy. You lean forward, resting your face on the hard bulge in his pants, smiling up at him. You’ve got these big, doe eyes, begging him, and he’s not so sure he even has the upper hand anymore—he would do anything you asked, any request that left those pretty bitten lips. He gathers your hair in two hands, forms a messy, unclean braid, crisscross at the back of your head just so he has something to grip while he fucks your throat.

You make quick, deft work of unbuttoning his jeans, and he watches, leaned back on the chair, legs spread wide with bent knees on either side of your body, caging you in. Carlos’ eyes are half-lidded, a hand at your braid, bringing his beer to his lips, swallowing before he sets it onto the adjacent desk.

His cock is big—thick, intimidating—and you can’t help but wonder how you’re going to fit the whole thing in your mouth without choking. It twitches in your palms the longer you stroke him, precum weeping from the head and slicking up your palms. Gruff expletives, in Spanish and English, slip past his gritted teeth and the sounds travel directly to your core, causing you to instinctively press your thighs together to soothe the ache blossoming there.

You take head of his cock into your mouth, feel it roll over your tongue, heavy and warm. Drool gathers in your mouth and your fingers dig into the muscle of his thighs in anticipation. The hand wound around your braid, pressed against your head, presses heavier slowly, slotting the first few inches of cock into your mouth while avoiding the back of your throat. You relax, letting your lips seal around the length, cheeks hollowing and tongue lulling at the underside. He curses.

You continue bobbing your head, lewd noises leaving your mouth with every move you make; it embarrasses you, but also sends slick gushing out of you.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes when the tip of his cock grazes the back of your throat; you cough, fingers heavy as they dig into the flesh of his still-denim clas thighs; drool trickles onto his balls. The hand remains there, though, pushing you and keeping you pinned in place as he slowly thrusts upward. You haven’t even gotten him all the way.

You gag and sputter, eyes fully watering the harder Carlos bullies his cock into your throat; you’re dizzy with arousal and submission, maybe one, maybe both, you’re too far gone.

“Easy,” he orders, and you will yourself to breathe nasally, relaxing, burying more of him in you. He loves seeing you like this, hair all pretty—his braid, too—and on your knees, trying your best to please him. “Being so good for me, good girl,” he says, losing resolve. You’re so pretty when you cry, eyes rimmed and bloodshot, tear streaks all over your cheekbones.

He ruts shallowly into your throat, every move punctuated by a guttural gag from your end—once, twice, a third time, before finally he releases you. You let out a cough, and a gasp, breathy, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. He doesn’t want to cum yet—not like this. You gaze up at him, big eyes anticipating, and he guides you upward, on the bed.

He kicks his jeans off and readjusts his briefs, watches you scramble to position yourself on the bed, sitting down properly. “Will you fuck me now?” You ask, your sweet voice raspy. He likes knowing he’s the reason why.

You inch yourself backward so you’re fully on his bed, a hand traveling to stop your tiny dress from riding up any further. He steps closer, one knee on the bed, caging you in again, and stops you. His gaze flickers down to your legs, forces your knees apart so he can see in between them. Your pretty cunt’s soaked through your panties. “Don’t hide from me,” he says, voice rough as he steps back off the bed and kneels beside it.

“Carlos,” you breathe, letting him have his way with you. Your mind’s all fuzzy, but it’s okay—he takes care of you.

Strong arms snake around your thighs and pull you toward him until your cunt is level with his face. His breath, warm, fans against you, muted by the thin fabric of your panties and it does nothing to help the unadulterated, dirty arousal throbbing in your cunt. He bites at the flesh of your inner thigh, then hooks two fingers into your panties and pulls them aside.

The taste of you is so good; it goes straight to Carlos’ head. And all of your embarrassed, whiny whimpers, the way your fingers knot helplessly into his hair as he drags his tongue up your cunt — that drives him absolutely crazy. He licks at your pussy, sticks his tongue in, nudges your clit with his nose, ekes whimpers and debauched moans out of your lips.

He pushes two fingers into you, doesn’t give you time to adjust before he’s fucking them in and out, moans spilling out of you involuntarily. It’s lewd, it’s dirty, getting his friend’s daughter all spread out for him like this, but Carlos loves it. More, you sob, more, please, I need—yeah—

His skilled tongue doesn’t let up, continues toying with you, licking up all the arousal oozing out of your cunt. He eats you, fucks you with his fingers, until your eyes are welling up with overwhelm and the need to release, your hands pulling at his long hair—your pussy dripping, quivering, right at the edge of your orgasm.

Any of the reservations you had are now out the window. Your grip on Carlos’ hair is tight, pushing his head deeper into your pussy and grinding against his mouth mindlessly.

I’m cumming—!

Your voice is so dirty, so lewd, so needy, when you finally finish around him, slick dripping out and your pussy twitching, clenching and unclenching around nothing as you release. Panting, you hoist yourself on your elbows, your braid surprisingly intact, and pout down at him.

“I said fuck me.”

“So you complain,” he responds with a coy smile, his lips shiny with your slick. You want him to fuck you stupid.

He does eventually, gets you all calm and lying down on the bed, knees to your chest. Your feet cross and uncross with anticipation. He lets his cock rest first on your stomach, where it twitches, smearing precum under your belly button.

“That’s where you’ll be,” you say, stroking him. When he finally does begin thrusting into you, he wishes he could save the image of your pretty eyes fluttering closed, puffy lips open in a whimper.

Your legs tremble with the size you’re taking, his hand gentle as it is firm on your hips, forcing you to take him, take him good, take him better. Good girl, he’s saying, good fucking girl. Inch by inch, you struggle to take all of him, his girth thicker than what your cunt is willing to take. You’re positive you’ll feel him in your stomach.

“Carlos,” you whimper, voice aching.

“Fuck,” is all he can muster, watching your pussy swallow him. “So tight.”

He’s drunk on the feeling of you, wet and clenching around him, so tight. He can tell you’re high on it too, on the stretch of him, the way you keep trying to meet every thrust, legs already beginning to tremble with pleasure and deep arousal. He bottoms out, an expletive leaving him in Spanish, and then slowly begins to fuck in and out of you.

He watches your face, the way your brows knit as you take him, take his cock, eyelides fluttering. “So good,” you moan, mouth open. He drops a glob of spit onto your tongue, tells you to swallow—you do, presenting your empty tongue to him. Good girl, prettiest girl—any and all praise leaves him in dizzy, heady breaths.

“Teasing me for so long,” he pants, his dick splitting you in half. “This what you wanted? Hmm?”

But even in your cloudy mind, you find the grit to retaliate, teasingly, a cloy smile on your lips. “You said it was wrong,” you gasp out with every thrust. “Fucking your friend’s daughter.”

“But you love it,” Carlos goads. “Do you?”

You nod, cockdrunk, but it’s not enough. “Use your words, pretty. You can do it.”

“I do, I love it. I need more,” you whine, getting off on his teasing, on the implication that this is all wrong, that neither of you should be doing this. “Needed this so much, Carlos.” You crack your eyes open to watch the bulge in your abdomen, the shape of his girth splitting you open. He slams into you harder and you try to squirm away, but he keeps you pinned in place.

“And if your dad walked in?”

You gush slick all over him. “Carlos,” you plead.

“Saw his daughter taking his friend’s dick?” He says it low into your ear, bending to make sure you hear all of it. “Taking it like a good girl, too.” He pulls out, slaps your ruined hole with his dick, then shoves it in deep again, groaning when you cry out—getting off on you whining about how sensitive you are, the way you tremble under him and around him. Your pretty little face, all sweaty and ruined.

“I’m gonna—fuck—I’m, Carlos—I’m gonna cum,” you say, nodding. You’ve probably cum twice already, little bursts of pleasure causing your cunt to twitch around him, sensitive. “Can I—?”

“That’s it,” he praises. “Come on, cum for me. Been so good for me.” You tremble around him as you finish, broken moans fucked out of you with every surge of his hips forward.

He’s close, too, having held off fucking you for the past how many days, and you can tell; his thrusts get shallower, faster, until his hips are stuttering and he’s panting your name out, long hair framing his flushed, pretty face. You reach up to comb a hand through it. “Cum inside me,” you beg, watching him go crazy, his nostrils flaring and eyes blinking quick.

He pumps his cum into you, thrusting several times as he rides it out, fucking you full of him, of his cum. You relish in the feeling, of being his girl, his good girl. “You’re a mess,” he comments, his face buried into your neck. He pulls out, both of you sighing at the sight and feeling of his cum dribbling out of you, onto the bed.

You unfold your legs, sitting up despite how sore you feel. Your dress is damp with sweat, and slick, and cum. “I feel a mess.” You pout.

“You look pretty.”

“Can I sleep here tonight?” You ask, voice meek. He nods, holds you tight as you both drift off, like he knows that you won’t be his to call his by the time the summer wanes and Comporta is left empty again.

—

“It’s the post-race interview,” Ali calls. “Hurry!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” You hop into the living room, tossing her the bag of popcorn she’d requested you to cook. Fall has officially dawned upon the city, adorning it with orange and red leaves, jazz music and cold nights—and weekends watching races.

Around you, all your university friends watch with intense gazes at the winner of the latest Formula One grand prix—something none of you had been remotely interested in just months prior.

You watch, eyes glittering, at the winner. Tan skin, long hair, jogging over to the journalist. Sainz, what a stellar drive! She sounds awestruck, genuinely taken aback by his dominance on the track today. She asks for a message in Spanish, as always; a few words of inspiration, and then, just as a fun little tidbit—did you have a good luck charm today?

He smiles to himself, like he’s just heard an inside joke and seems to think for a minute. “No, not really.” Then he combs a hand through his hair. There, looped around his wrist, is a pretty, pale pink ribbon.

#f1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz one shot #f1 x reader

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yveaart · 4 months

Text

how to lose a guy in 10 days — csc

choi seungcheol x reader

genre : fluff, smut, enemies to lovers, jealousy (?), fake relationship, bets (yk how the movie goes), profanities

synopsis : you had to prove to your friends that you could easily make a guy lose interest within a week, having no interest in indulging yourself in a relationship after your past ones. all those relationships led you to narrow down a list on how to make a guy sick of you. you had all the card in your hands and seems like you don’t get to play it.

warnings : mdni, proceed with causion bc this is my first actual svt fic it might be shitty. not proofread lol, reminder that this is my take on the plot and it will not flow the exact same plots in the movie

i do not feel so confident about this bc i wrote this with mind in shambles. literally me comforting myself with svt while i'm dying from my studies rn :') pls tell me if you like it bc i would most def appreciate it <3

it was another slow day at work when you sat down at your desk and sighed. all your work mates and friends seems to confide in your reaction but your circle knew that this sigh wasn’t a “damn-im-so-stressed-and-sick-of-work-sigh” for them it was more of a “wow-life-is-hectic-its-almost-making-me-want-a-man”

and just like clockwork their brains clicked and hovered over your cubicle. poor u so startled that you almost gagged on your coffee.

“what?” you shooted

“are we gonna meet boyfriend number 13?” karina said in a sing song voice

“more like fling number 17?” sakura retorted

“maybe a first situationship since she haven’t experienced one yet” yunjin said curiously

“jesus christ i’ve had that much men and i’m not gay yet?” you said surprised

“maybe you just need a new set up?” yunjin asked

“like what doggy style?” karina questioned

“not like that you idiot” sakura glared

“maybe i’m just meant to end up in a church and dedicate my life to holiness” you huffed

“please you would burn the moment you step in a cathedral” sakura laughed

“well i just know how every relationships end, it’s almost like completing all endings for a video game, its predictable and cliche” you sighed

“let’s welcome fling number 17 then” karina announced

“i’m too tired for just fucks you know? it won’t take long before i actually get infection and i turn into a zombie and bite you all from all these stupid ideas” you rolled your eyes at your friends.

right now you just actually need to see if theres a guy out there in the world who could actually commit and actually accept a persons flaws out of love.

all too cheesy but you would like to find a partner who would find no flaws in you and probably just call them your little unique antiques that they can live with.

you were so sick on seeing tutorials or manifestation hacks on the internet because does anyone genuinely love each other anymore? all these “how to become a maneater”, “how to make them dream of you”, “how to make him fall in love using a potion” bullshit got you sick of people now.

why did god even create men to accompany themselves if they’re preferences and expectations are for the deities taste themselves.

“OH MY GOD I GOT IT!” yunjin screamed making all your peers look over to your area

“what is it?” you asked dying for a solution

“what if you meet a guy and just unfling him?” she said as if there was a light bulb above her head

“yall need to make her stop doing overtime” sakura deadpanned

“NOO, like you’re talking all these commitment things all the time then what if you find a random guy and make him not fall in love with you and see if he stays?” she said

“so like i should go out being an annoying red flag and see if he stays?” you giggle but it all went away when all your friends kind of agreed because they’re also sick of u having these guy problems already.

“i guess thats not all bad” karina suggests

“you should wear your best outfit tonight because we will find your lucky target then y/nnie” sakura winked at you before discussing the plans with yunjin and karina

it was not long until the night came as you got ready, you scoffed on how stupid this bet is because it’s like you claimed “very predictable and cliche” to lose a guy.

it was then your friends picked you up and pulled up to the bar. a few shots came by as you hustled through the crowd searching for your so called the one. but as you surf through the tables everyone fell short to your friends standards as if it was a big serious thing.

you grew tired, what was the point, you knew your fate then you should probably accept it now.

you drank your last shot for tonight planning your weekend with whole lots of tubs of ice cream until you flinched by karina grabbing your arm.

“him” she said, audible enough for the three of you to hear. you faced the guy she was referring to as all the noice fade into the background blur hearing yunjin screech and them clapping happily, your time froze.

the most goddamn, drop dead gorgeous man came to sight.

“isn’t that choi seungcheol?” sakura stating a rhetorical question

“they said no one could ever bag him up” yunjin replied

“ooh sounds like one of y/n’s guys” karina giggled.

“are you up for it then?” sakura challenged you

“please this will probably come by a breeze, so? 100 bucks each?” you winked as the three of them agrees after a total chaos.

“choi seungcheol, let the games begin” you muttered

on the other side of the bar there was a crowded group of 13 people who were mindlessly taking shot over shot as they were crowned as the most obnoxiously loud people for the night.

most of them spitting out tipsy thoughts to one another as they joined forces on pinning and choosing choi seungcheol as the victim for tonight.

“here comes the virgin joseph for tonight, choi seungcheol!” dk hooted while hoshi was giggling to any phrases the latter would make out

“isn’t it mary though?” joshua pondered drunkly on the edge of the couch munching on the nuts hoping it would make him sober as it was too early to go home.

“whatever, we still get the point. so what’s with the anti-women behavior cheol?” jeonghan grinned. his smile too wide to seem oblivious of the answer.

“i think dating is now deemed predictable to me,every woman i dated either wants my money, my body, fame, or a father figure” cheol sighed deeply

“wait you’re a dad?” dino’s brows furrowed in deep confusion as cheol stood there with utter disbelief

“i thought we we’re supposed to have a fun hangout today, and now all of you are just looking like alcoholics with all these bottles in our table” seungcheol complained

“WHO ARE YOU CALLING ALCOHOLICS?!” mingyu exclaimed looking at the opposite direction of where cheol was.

“FUCKER I DIDNT CALL YOU ANYTHING” minghao retorted to a confused mingyu facing him causing cheol to place a palm over his forehead.

“how about you start charming women for who you truly are?” vernon continuing the passed topic.

cheol didnt know if he was thankful for vernon re entering a topic, all the “seemingly” sober people joined up on the topic. they soon somehow convinced cheol to meet new people and try making them fall in love with him.

kkuma needed a mom, maybe he did too (but not in a maternal sense

“i doubt scoups can make a girl fall in love with him” dino giggled in the verge of passing out.

“i sure can ! it’s like a walk in the park” seungcheol defended.

“not even within a month” jeonghan added

“not even a week” jun stared blankly.

seungcheol always had placed his pride on a pedestal, it’s the source of his cocky behavior.

“oh please, give me 10 days it would be like she’s under a love spell” cheol snickered blanketing his bruised ego.

“deal, i bet 20 that we’ll have another meeting on the 10th day having cheol drop dead drunk at thus exact spot” jeonghan screamed only standing for the first time for the night.

it was chaos after that, but the group was almost divided equally in the process of them making bets and weighing the odds of cheol’s fate.

seungcheol wished the ground opened its jaws and buried him six feet under

even he was lying to himself with his statement, but one thing about choi seungcheol— he always wins.

“i’m gonna head home now” cheol said, he wish he didn’t.

he somehow wished that they were all too drunk to force him into the grave he dug himself. mercy will be the end of their bond, so as fate has written cheol’s fortune.

“i guess cheol is accepting his pussy title” jeonghan sighed

“i am not a pussy” cheol responded

“then i guess you’ll have to prove that” joshua sighed blankly at him

“let’s start by choosing the lucky girl who’s gonna take cheol’s v card”

“i’m not even a virgin” cheol rebutted with a frown, the liquor making him submit to his true emotions.

“please you barely lost it” dk laughed

“well i barely felt it….” cheol muttered

“let’s do her” dino pointed at the wall as he stood quickly stumbling with his head spinning

“who’s he pointing at? did he shave his eyes as well?” woozi said laughing

“shut up pink panty guy, i’m talking about the girl that has red hair and wearing a black dress” dino said laying on the floor

“ooh, she looks hot like seungcheol’s type” jun teased

if he didn’t spot your bright auburn hair he would’ve sworn to himself that these guys we’re just throwing a hate crime at him, but god, you we’re his type.

“go on mr. choi, show us your charm” mingyu pushing cheol closer to your area in the bar

you were planning on stepping up, but you had to make one thing sure, so you turned around to your friends with burgundy rushing through your cheeks with the thrill throwing you into your pit of endless thoughts.

“makeup, and outfit : perfect” yunjin started with a wide grin

“hair : gorgeous and can easily make a ponytail” karina winked as you glared at her

“teeth clean and ready for sucking” sakura smiled

jesus christ you were asking for a reality check and they just simply can’t avoid adding scandalous statements as if that’s all you do.

you were ready

were?

are?

was?

fuck.

you backed up quickly as you saw a guy charging at your direction ready to barf up on you.

quick arms catches your moving physique, as your back became dependent on the person unbeknownst to you.

two groups filled your senses with squeals, laughing and cheering waking you up from your not so cute dilemma

you turned to the person behind you seeing the man of the night

choi seungcheol.

“you okay, sweetheart?” his voiced hush, you felt warm and you swore that is was just the buzz from the liquor

quickly you went to work

“omg thankyou o-oppa” you’re voice cracked because you simply cannot believe the words that escaped your lips.

there was terror in his eyes, the moment you saw it, it went away. a pretty grin was graced upon your lips because this will be one hell of a ride

he better be sure to keep his seatbelts on because you’re gonna totally rock his world.

day 1 : the tortoise and the hare

spoiler, the hare never wins

guys hate being speedy, if they’re looking for a woman they can take home to his mom it would definitely not be the woman who wants to be dicked down after the first date.

and this wasn’t even a date

he took you to his place after your so called friends left the both of you in the landmine

he only intended you to sober up, and you only wanted him to curse you off his life. but it would be no fun if you just did it in a day, wouldn’t it?

the sound of the collision of class and marble led to both of your eyes to be met.

“thank you, really, or what else i would’ve smelled like vodka and whatever the fuck that person just ate” you sighed in relief genuinely

“no worries, you don’t smell like barf or vodka…. maybe a little of tequila but you’re good” he smiled

fuck. he’s hot and he knows it, a part of you wished that he was some sort of narcissist so you could do this thing in a easier way.

his face sculpted and graced with beauty his eyes filled with wisdom and maturity, his lips full and shaded like cherries.

you we’re definitely down to have a fling with him, but according to you, you were planning to change your ways and test the purpose and ability of men.

“mhm, i’m tired let’s watch a movie?” you smiled with your forced high-pitched voice

you love how he would hide the way his face would wince when you talk or the way his jaw slacked on your statement.

you smiled at the thought of him trying to take you out of his multi-million mansion because you were pushing boundaries he built for you

“yeah.. sure, what do you wanna watch?” he assisted you by the waist as he brought you up the stairs.

you wanted to get out, you wouldn’t think that it would go like this. fuck the boys manual maybe it doesn’t work with hot rich guys

“the notebook, i LOVE that movie” you smiled and you could see how he expected that

as you laid in his sheets, which you felt deeply sorry for actually staining his pearly and silky shits with your outside clothes, but your pride held you high. if you fell from your pride or for him then maybe then you could wash his sheets.

the room was dimly lit, the ambience warm as he intended.

he sat next to you, with distance for respect according to cheol’s brain.

you couldn’t predict him, and maybe he sends mix signals, and that made you feel less guilty because you concluded that he’s a womanizer. he knew all of these antics a little too well.

“it’s getting hot” you sighed fanning your face adjusting your dress to the right extent, you held your hair exposing your neck to him making sure he saw it.

"really? my ac is so low right now" he was surely acting oblivious.

you may be frustrated at him for not taking your hits but you guess it would make a good build up, meanwhile he was there dumbfounded from all the tricks you pulled, he was slowly getting hard but that's another story.

he was thinking if he should drop it, it seemed like you just wanted a one night stand, but speaking of the devil (angel) jeonghan sent him a text showing him how much money he would be getting if he proved them wrong.

somehow in the end all of his friends were convinced that he would stay bitchless. there was a whole chapter within their groupchat making fun of what he said earlier at the bar.

truth be told, he didn't give a fuck about the money, he wanted his dignity and pride back.

"my body is so warm because of all the shots i took though" you reasoned out quickly.

"well my body is really cool right now" he faced you slowly pulling you close but you had other plans

you quickly kissed him as if you were desperate for it.

"mmm- i think we should slow down y/n" he rushed to tell you.

you wanted to grin so bad, victory laid on your side, but you had to put a sad face asking him if he no longer likes you repeatedly as he escorted you out of his house.

you quickly twirled and skipped across the road when you were sure he was inside already. he was there though, watching through his window.

maybe he had to step up.

day 2 : the in-laws

there was not a single text on cheols phone the next morning, soon learning your phone was inside the purse you left at his house.

he wanted to scan your purse thinking of a way to sweep you off your feet today. but a gentleman doesn't mess with a ladies purse.

after the the long chat you had last night, you exchanged your details to each other which now led cheol to your apartment building with flowers and a wide smile.

"hi i got these for you-"

"wait cheollie, say hi to your mom !" you cut him off with a smile

his face quickly shifting, you what?! he was slowly shaking on the inside quickly settling down your purse, flowers on your coffee table.

"h-hi mommm" he grinned as if his mom could see him.

"seungcheol i didn't raise you to hide your partners from me like this, i really like y/n you know, so when's the wedding?" his mom ushered

"a wedding?" you gasped and started screeching as if it was real

"we'll see mom haha.." he replied deranged from the situation made just 2 minutes ago. he quickly hung up before his mom could get any more ideas.

"well that was interesting, i didn't know that you knew my mom" he restrained himself from losing himself.

"well i have to meet your parents anyways right, cheollie?" you smiled at him

"yeah, but we just met yesterday" he deadpanned

"well, you don't think we're gonna work out" you started sobbing in front of him making small obnoxious hiccups

"well that's not what i meant baby" he hushed and spent the afternoon babying you while whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

day 3 : monday flings

"i seriously cannot fathom how much patience he has to reach day 3" you genuinely lay your opinion

"i was a complete total psycho, but he must be mental" you said to yourself

"that's fucking crazy because if i had to put up with that you would never hear from me again" sakura said bluntly which bruised and praised you at the same time

"i need a break from my alter ego as well, i hope he has no plans on asking me on anything anymore at least"

the day went as if you had never met choi seungcheol at all, which made you relieved for at least having a rest day, sure it was such a short time but god how tiring it was to be somebody else

"i just really realized how to fit in somebody else's shoes" you sighed as you and your friends exited the building together ready to go home and simply pass out.

"then don't fucking wear them" karina said

"but this is the whole point, being a stereotypical woman in a relationship"

you all soon parted in your own ways as you walked through the neighborhood near yours, you realized you just walked passed by seungcheol's house and this made you walk a bit faster and try to fabricate your distinguishable looks. but guess what

"aw baby don't hide from me" he coos slowly pulling you in his embrace.

"i was just looking for you" he smiled as he rushed you into his home

you somehow wished he could just stab you right now.

he led you to his living room filled with rose petals and candles dedicating a whole playlist of his vinyl records for you. you spent the evening sharing his home cooked dinner, which was actually delicious. and he soon brought out his photo albums from when he was a kid.

"do you think our children look just like you?' your sentence made you freak out but you supressed it wanting him to be affected by your vicious visions.

"how about we go back about the marriage thing for now" he faked out a laugh.

"i want this to be our family's house too" you sighed in content while scanning the architectural structure.

"if that's what you want" he smiled and pecked your forehead, which had caught you by a surprise.

"it is" you smiled, you didn't want to admit it but something formed within you when he said that.

"i'll be having a boys night tomorrow so i might not respond quickly to your texts"

"is it strictly 'boys only' ?" you asked forming an idea and swallowing these funny feelings that have bloomed within you.

"well it had always been"

day 4 : poker night

if fate was inevitable, they should you hit you up then.

you were in a cab with your hands filled with cheol's place in mind.

"cheol having a 4 day record is worth celebrating" jeonghan teased

"it's been that long?" mingyu asked actually impressed

"i've been in a lot of relationships since college, stop making it seem like im a loser" he sighed

"probably just in college" minghao retorted

"it's probably going well, maybe next year she could meet his parents" seungkwan noted

"please, she met them the second day we met" cheol answered scoffing at the thought

"now i know why girls are driven away from you" jun cringed at cheol

"she called them herself the day we met, she even said that our children will live here, and she tried to sleep with me the first day we met !" cheol finally shared his experience the past few days

"ooh feisty and a woman with a plan, that's so horanghae coded" hoshi smiled reaching his palms out and curling the ends of her fingers.

"you're going delusional again hamster" minghao smacked the back of hoshi's head causing the latter to relieve it by rubbing his head.

"maybe cheol could get laid now with her bold behavior, someone who can tame mr. pride-over-pants-down-choi-seungcheol over here" joshua said

"she's just a bet-"

the violent reactions that flashed through the faces of his group-mainly cheol when you came in the door in the middle of the game.

the guys quickly recovered teasing cheol for being so attached already calling her over for a boys night.

"hi guys!!" you said excitingly trying on your best cute expression you could muster up while hoshi replied to you with the horanghae pose as you quickly reciprocated it.

"i just thought i could put some of my stuff here so you could always remember me cheollie" your eyes twitching the moment your face was parallel with the wall

cheol was in awe with the first few vases you put out, until there were at lest 13 in his living room only. his house looking like he was out there selling urns

you were going around his place disrupting them, even changing their ambient music into some of britney spear's playlist

and even making very concerning screams around the kitchen just behind the living room.

"cheollie, can you get me some water" you whined when you heard them telling cheol it was his turn

he caught you reaching out unto the cupboards for a glass, he quickly got you what you requested and leaving you there

you were quick to grab onto his arm and grab the cigarette out of his mouth.

"you need to stop smoking" you tell him genuinely, his demeanor sensing your honesty his brows rested as he gave you a smile.

"i need to keep my lungs healthy for our children huh?" he teased you with a knowing smile

day 5 : ghosting

after his game with the boys, you two spent so much time together after.

he was being sulky after receiving his first losing game last night from all your disruptions last night.

but he never mentioned you being a nuisance, and just maybe because it was stored somewhere deep his chest the frustrations he held

but you stayed clingy to him filling him up with your presence even when you already went home flooding his texts until it was dawn

today you decided to stay low, you were lying in wait in this part of the plan

by doing so much the past few days today you decided to give ghosting a shot

"god i just wanna die if i need to go through this just to find a decent human being" you sighed frustrated at yourself

you wish you could stop now, there was 150 bucks on the line

or this is what you thought that hindered from you from stopping, you stared longingly on your laptop

quickly dialing his number you grinned at the sound of his voice

day 6 : a large iced diet coke and a kiss to go

today you planned on watching a knicks game with cheol, it was both your favorite thing to watch.

the stadium filled with cheers as you were shaking with thrill watching the tight game among your favorite team handling each other by the neck

most of the game went well according to cheol

during the break the venue managers continued to do the kiss cam.

you were interested looking at random people sharing affection through this stupid camera. but you didn't know it would face you.

you saw your face light up with surprise as the other guy next to you exposed on the kiss cam

you were looking at him

"i'm-" the guy was cut off when seungcheol grabbed you by the nape sealing your lips with his plush ones, the camera then panning to the both of you instead of you and the other guy.

"you weren't in the kiss cam" you said smiling- wait no don't.

"well i was just now" he said cockily

"i'm not gonna let you kiss him when i'm here" he said and that lit a fire within you

the final part of the game resumed as you both were cheering wildly through the crowds

it was time.

you asked cheol to bring you coke since you were extremely famished according to your words.

cheol quickly glanced at you, the bottom of the stadium, on the scoreboard, and back to your eyes.

he quickly ran getting you the drink that you wanted.

"i cant drink too much sugar though i need the diet one" his face turning into a distressed one jogging back up the long steep flights of stairs as he huffed to the vendor that you wanted the coke one, being only available to watch the game through the small monitor by the ceiling

there was about 3 minutes left, your team still having time to win over

he rushed back to you quickly handing you your coke, but there was another thing-

"i need ice cheollie" you whined at him, he groaned but still went over to do it

only a few moments left before the game ends the vendor still working on you precious drink, seungcheol staring at the monitor.

you felt bad, like actually. but you had to keep this up

you were enjoying the game until you were drowned in your thoughts on how you were ever gonna ask for his forgiveness after all this

you were a bitch and get over your act.

the crowd calling out through your ears realizing your favored team won, you had to force a smile especially a lovely one at cheol to make him think you were being a menace

maybe if you pushed him enough you could end this sooner, you can't admit that he was charming, handsome, and his behavior is no less than how a gentleman should act.

sorry coups.

the game ended, you were exiting the venue with cheol as his arm around your shoulder quickly calling you a cab home.

"thank you for this babe" you smiled passing him the cup, hoping you were rude enough for him to not call you up anymore

"no problem, you gave me your other ticket to watch with you anyway" he smiled pecking you before you left.

he crumpled the cup and threw it away.

day 7 : the revelation

you and cheol spent this day with a quick breakfast by the small cafe nearby, chatting through the busy streets of your city, he asked you to come to his event tomorrow which you accepted. after breakfast there were barely any interactions coming between the two of you.

why stay through this conditions?

well we bring you to the day 1

you were troubled writing your new article on the magazine company you were working for.

your boss expecting so much from you, you simply cannot write anything too political or anything controversial at all, so you stuck on to writing these stupid "how to" to articles which was a huge success for your company.

you were stuck, nothing to write, drafts filled with calling out peace for all countries experiencing genocide and territorial invasions or calling out to politicians who were legitimately caught only on scandalous events but never the seat of any meetings.

you were a writer a "how to girl", you swore you did it all and wrote them, how to talk your way out of a ticket, how to feng shui your apartment and even having those little tests you wrote printed by the magazine.

seungcheol was a lawyer, he stayed in his grandfathers law firm, his grandfather desperate for him to get wed and have a family who will take care of the firm and would take care of him as well.

seungcheol's grandfather knew his luck in love, so he prayed that even when he passes, his grandson will still have someone to be with.

day 8 : pride over love

cheol came over to your place at dusk seeing you with your flattering yellow dress with a backless cut on the back.

he was stunned by your beauty, his hand leading to his chest.

"my god" he whispered to himself as he paced closer to you

"you're gorgeous" he smiled as he kissed your temple

"you don't look to bad yourself" you grinned at him

you decided to stay in your apartment for a while as you settled a few of your stuff before you leave

he glanced over your record player and fidget over your albums then he finally sat down digesting the whole essence of your place, it was hard for him to stay still thinking that you were some dumb bet but he knew you were more than that, he knew you we're attractive but the breeze tonight was only revealing your true selves to each other.

you came in the room with your purse settling it by the coffee table as your favorite song came by, you couldn't help but singing along to it

and other girls dreamed that they'd be cheol's partner

they'd be cheol's partner and

you're so vain

you probably think this song is about you

and then you both exploded in to giggles proceeding to do silly dances before heading out.

you both arrive at an immaculately decorated building, you could already hear all the people chattering inside the building making a light buzz on your ears

"cheol, you should come meet our new stockholder" his coworker ushered him as he looked at you with slight worry

"i'll be fine you should go" you pushed him lightly and he just nodded at you making a phone call sign telling u to call him if anything happens

it was a while when you were just sitting by the bar drinking your nth drink for the night, it wasn't your intention to do so, but that was the only thing that can occupy you. you didn't want to bother cheol on his night so you stayed lowkey.

you weren't drunk but you rethink because you didn't know why seungcheol's grandfather ushering you to talk to him.

"so i heard that you have been seeing my grandson" he started

"oh yeah i am" you politely answered, guilt wrapping you up when you realized that you were only feigning everything.

"i'm glad that he told me about a girl he goes out with, he barely tells me anymore because they don't last long" he giggled

"oh really? i would expect him to be married by now actually" you joked with him

you felt comfortable around him, his friends, his relatives, and even his co workers, they really provided you with a nice environment.

"i'm happy that you stayed with him even after knowing that you just started as a bet-"

"excuse me?" you were violated.

"i mean please excuse me i need to get some fresh air"

there was regret in mr.choi's face but it also held worry, was it true? you were a bet? what did he win for you? for this? what did he mean that you started as a bet?

you were furious, you knew you were also doing him wrong, but you felt bad for all of it.

it wasn't helping that you had to admit to yourself that you did like him. even through the fucked up situations you had this week, it was all messed up, fake.

but even in all that chaos, he was consistent, he was there.

now you're doubting if that was his acting as well

because now you were burning everywhere, because you knew you crossed the fine line along the feigned adoration over real devotion.

you adore choi seungcheol.

but now that meant nothing.

quick and heavy foot steps were heard behind you

"y/n!" cheol managed out with huffed breaths

you faced him with disdain painting your face.

“wow, you’re gonna run away after you defy me?” he laughed sarcastically, his face sullen his eyes filled with fury

“defy you? what about you making me a bet?” it dawned on him realizing that you knew about his faults too.

it was true, you did defy him, not that it was your choice, you had to do it for your job, you wrote about him, one of your how-to blog and magazine experiments.

how to lose a guy in 10 days

this was your last project being a part of this magazine line. you swore you couldn’t keep on using people for an article, you planned on being a journalist after quitting, after making him your last.

because after all, you love him.

your article could also be called “how to stupidly fall in love and find a man in 10 days”

“it was a bet at first, then i fell, but you just played me” he looked at you as if you just stabbed him straight to the chest

“what?” you said confused

“leave. i don’t ever wanna see you anymore” he warned

“didn’t know you could stoop so low, and don’t worry i will”

“how to lose a guy in 10 days huh?” he started “lucky you y/n because you just lost him” he uttered walking away.

the night turned completely upside down, both of your chests swelled with guilt, shame and anger.

your heart dropped, but you just swallowed you pride and left.

day 9 : drive me out of town

quickly packing your things to leave, you won’t do any good here now that everything is tainted by the man you met just a little more than a week ago.

you spent your whole day just wallowing the sadness from your love life leaving your friends, your apartment.

you published that article about choi seungcheol to have income before you left your low life and start as a struggling journalist to do what you always wanted, to write about more important things

conventional, innovative, a cry of the oppressed.

but people seemed to worry if blondes were more fun than brunettes.

you truly regret using him, but you both did the wrong things to the write people, only fate knew that.

you rode your cab ready to leave this damned city to move to another identical one.

the familiar streets slowly blurred into the abyss of the distance as you called your friends and relatives one by one just catching up and telling them little life updates.

you were sad, but you knew that seungcheol is probably feeling a lot more than you were.

the darkness of the sky basked you a sense of comfort, there’s always a new day.

you wished him peace.

it was a fault writing about him and confessing about you felt at the same time, but he deserved the last bit if honesty left to your fake situationship.

a raging motorcycle suddenly honks at your vehicle endlessly. your cab giving way but it seemed like it wasn’t what the motor rider meant

“OH MY GOD PLEASE STOP” you told the cab driver when you realized it was cheol’s bike.

was he planning to run you over?

you got out displaying yourself in front of the man you loved.

“y/n, it was all true” he said taking his helmet off he huffed tiredly but not slowing down his pace to get close to you

“what are you saying?”

“i liked you that’s why i agreed with the bet, hoping you would like me back, even though your personality was hard to work with” he laughed to himself

“why are you saying this? why now?”

“maybe i flipped the page too quick not seeing that you loved me as well”

“love”

“what?”

“i still love you” you whispered

“you won your bet a little too well mr.choi seungcheol”

“i love you too, and i don’t care if you pull your annoying your girl antics i still love you”

“that wasn’t me” you laughed

“well there was a part of you who did it, and i love all of you” he smiled showing his gummy grin.

you couldn’t help but feel free, you weren’t stuck in that annoying girl’s body forcing the guy you love to hate you.

“kiss me, cheol” you teared up

he didn’t need to be told twice as he rushed to close the distance between the two of you, his lips crashing to yours savoring every inch of it. your head shifting in sync as you both connected not wanting to let go.

today’s day 1. the first day of making it real.

day 10 : my heart, it lies within yours.

passed 12 am

i guess you did actually lose your bet now with your friends. at day 10 choi seungcheol was plush against your skin his lips in yours, and your hands in his hair.

“i hate that you have me wrapped around your finger” he groaned onto your lips

“i hate that you actually won your stupid bet” you sighed

“i always win, and this feels so much better than winning” he said lifting you

your bags left on the floor the moment you reached his home, he told you to call it yours as well, from now on.

your silence didn’t last long when the both of you were longing for each other leading you up to this moment.

“hm so cocky huh?” you teased him as you started kissing down on his neck as he laid you on his bed.

you pulled down on his tie realizing he was so busy at work all day.

you kissed him once more and switching the positions that you were previously on as you climbed onto his lap and continued making out

your hands wandering on his hair and his hands on your ass.

your tongue interacting as he let you do whatever you want, his hands started wandering on your body leaving your skin burning for more.

your kiss being more needy as you started to grind on his hard on. he groaned onto your lips leaving you to grind harder.

you started to unbutton his clothes as he followed suit, removing yours as well.

he was pulling on his tie

“no” you stopped him

“keep it on love” you commanded

he could throw you and turn this around, but he didn’t. he enjoyed this a little too much, loving the feeling of being taken care of.

you both were left on your under garments except him having his tie on

he looked so hot having his tie rest on his smooth and hard muscles, his abs and pecs shining from the moonlight.

you continued grinding on him until he held your hips to stop.

“let me have you first please” he sighed as he laid you down on the bed as he knelt on the ground facing your crotch.

he looked at you as if he was asking if he could remove it and you nodded back at him.

his blonde hair a bit messy as you caressed it and tugging while he was removing your underwear

his face getting closer to your heat as he started kissing on your thighs slowly.

his lips then met with your clit as he sucked slowly then proceeding to lap on your entrance already making it soaking than it already was.

his tongue bending slightly when met with the entrance teasing it and slowly stretching it.

his right hand caressing around your waist as the left one kept it on your thigh refraining it from moving.

his fingers slowly worked his mouth as he slowly dipped one into your hole.

his finger was thick, 2 of your fingers were your frequently used ones, but his reached so much deeper, felt so fuller.

he hummed against your clit as vibrations flooded through your veins. he added another finger making you writhe and pull on his hair more.

you pulled him up kissing his plump lips before making him lay down on the bed.

you held his hands as you put it above his head, you weren’t intending to restrain them at all.

his biceps protruding so well when you raised it keeping it there as you licked and sucked on his neck slowly removing his boxers.

you wanted to cum with him tonight.

his eyes went dark seeing his large dick lining up to your entrance, he wanted you to ride him, he wanted to stare at your beautiful body while you felt pleasure because of him.

"no condom?" he asked heavily, he wanted it, he wanted this, but he also wants to make sure that you're doing what you desire, not wanting to make regrets again.

"i don't care, fill me up, make me pregnant" you said in a daze, but even without the lust you had right now, you still would say yes.

"fuck" he groaned hearing your words

his length standing tall, he was already so girthy, his tip leaking red.

he wanted to feel pleasure with you, not just sitting there like some fuck doll.

you lined the tip with your entrance as you slowly sunk down already feeling an enormous stretch.

"god your cock is so big" you moaned as you rested your head by his neck sucking there to distract yourself from the slight pain.

his hands went down to your waist as he pushed you further, taking him all in.

he was sent to paradise with your walls crashing to his length, engulfing it in its warmth

"your pussy was made just for me, love" he groaned as his hands guided your waist to ride him.

you were releasing moans as you rode him, it's as if he was still getting bigger inside you.

you then leaned back to your position staring at him with his tie, he looked so hot with his abs clenching every time you squeeze his dick, and how his sweat made it look like he was glowing.

he was laying back with the most drunk in lust face he got as he bit his lower lip just staring at you bouncing at him.

every curve of him filled you even more hitting the right spots that led you to your high in a few more moments.

you both released at the same time, but cheol was far from over with you

he flipped you around entering you in a missionary position, he was truly strong as he pumped himself in you with a new found energy hitting even deeper than before.

he caressed the bump his dick made deep on your stomach.

he made a guttural moan just by the thought of you being able to carry his children by the very belly he's fucking oblivion to.

you pulled onto his tie causing it to tighten a bit that he moaned. you kissed him sloppily as your saliva mixed and dripped to the side of your chin.

he went down leaving marks on your delicate skin, already having red marks on your neck, he made sure to give your tits some love.

he sucked onto your left one and massaged the one on your right, continuously flicking it. his other hand made its way to massage your clit, which made your back arch and scream his name.

"fuck seungcheol" you moaned

"seungcheol? i thought you called me cheollie" he smiled at you with a shit eating grin

you could barely even give a response, you were simply brain dead from all the pleasure you had.

his pace going faster and faster as massaged your clit to a higher intensity, you both were sent over the edge for the second time tonight.

he slowly removed his length, as your hole felt the emptiness you groaned. your mixed arousal slipping out of your pussy as cheol just stared at it.

he inserted two fingers fucking the cum back into her, you moaned at overstimulation, he continued fucking you with his fingers.

"aren't you doing too much mr. choi?" you glared at seungcheol.

"gonna make sure you keep all of it" he said as she shakes his head giggling.

you pulled him down onto the bed as you sat up stuffing your underwear in his mouth making him moan out loud.

"your turn?" you grinned.

i felt like i could do better :") im sorry if this is bad.

taglist <3

@luchiet @sebongmochi @yawnseu @christinewithluv @musingsofananxiouspotato @raggedypansexual @90s-belladonna @nerdycheol @xcynthiaaa @inexistent-bluemind @jenoxygen @i-dont-give-a-fok @nmosyne @sleepzyy @justanarchiveforfics @springdaybreaks @k07-1313 @dunixxd

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meiffel-tower · 2 years

Text

In yet another experience supporting my trust of my gut/intuition, my sister just sent me a picture of the card her husband gave her and I saw that he specifically wrote "you are super special to me" and yesterday I wrote "you're extremely special to me" in my own birthday message to her. Neither of us wrote a huge flowery paragraph, we both did just 2-3 short but genuine sentences. And like one of the things I've always liked about him is that i feel like we both love my sister in similar ways, and anyways yeah this was just a little thing that just validated my belief that we're similar in some ways lol (and my personal theory that I might end up with a guy with a personality/way of loving me similar to my sister's lmao)

I just think it's interesting how we're drawn to certain types of people and you can kind of feel it even before you really know them that well

#i really do believe in a kind of spiritual intuition #ever since i met one of my best friends in college and without even really talking i was like #'for some reason I feel like i could be friends with this girl'#and i was right and we got along really well and i still consider one of my best friends even though we don't talk that much anymore #bc i feel like we just click in a way thats not dependent on talking super frequently #and anyways this is why i really do not like dating apps and am not the best at casual dating #bc i guess im waiting for that feeling of 'i don't know how but i strongly suspect this is right' with a guy #bc ive had it before with friends and jobs and the decision to stay in VA rather try and find a job in GA like i originally planned #this is also why i go nuts for SJMs mate stuff hahahaha i just love it!!#i really do believe theres something more to life and some people peoples souls and spirits just immediately mesh in an unexplainable way #be it platonically or romantically or whatever #personal #txt #and i also know what its like to feel attracted to someone but also know deep deep down in your gut that its not quite right #or like what im looking for #and that time i ignored it because i wanted things to work out and i did love him and care about him a lot #but i got my heart broken in a long drawn out way #so not trying that again lol #i won't settle for less than an intuitive green light about a guy and if that means i never get married then so be it i guess #id rather be happy on my own with my other loved ones than be married to someone i dont believe in my soul with a right decision #as hippie dippy as that sounds lmao

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dr3c0mix · 5 months

Note

What if i want to bite them (all characters), like. Its love bites <3 like not hard enough to bleed hut enough to leave a mark for a while. Like i love them so much i just cant help it! I would kiss the bite marks after in hopes to make them not hurt as much <3

-🩷

Darling Gives Them Love Bites <333

My OCs x GN! Reader

Heres a short post from an old request as a little snack before the yan gang!!

CW: biting ofc, nsfw jumpscares sprinkled in, tooth decaying fluff

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Adrian is a bit confused and weirded out at first, like why are you biting thats gross youre gross wait why are you stopping you have to bite his other shoulder or else its not symmetrical and itll feel weird come back !!

he needs to get used to it gradually, but once it gets to the point you leave marks on his skin, he's asking for a lil bite every time you two say goodbye so he can have a memento of you

he cums in his pants if you lick the bite oh my god please do it again he begs of you

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Brandon thinks it's a game and bites you back, picking you up and throwing you up in the air. You activated some kind of trigger in him that made him go full excited golden retriever.

He bites you back, kissing the area over and over again as revenge

He probably bites more than you to be honest, he's always wanted to bite but held back in case you were uncomfy with it, but now that he knows you're cool with it he's going ham.

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Valeth is cooing over you, little duckling bites!! so cute!!!

He praises your bite marks, pointing out the parts that hurt saying things like "If you tried, you could definitely break skin! Good job my duckling!"

Thinks your little teeth are cute, especially your canines, he loves comparing it to his tusks.

He allows, no, encourages to let you nibble on his hand or arm

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The horde doesnt let you, kisses are ok, but biting ? no no no

not because they dont like it, they just dont want you putting your mouth on their literally rotten skin

plus they associate biting with eat so thats a bit of a problem

but my oh my they love kisses, give them a bit and maybe just maybe theyd let you nibble a little bit.

dont let them do it back to you especially ribs, they have super sharp teeth that can break bone if they wanted

but like you might be into that so idk man

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Wolfie thinks youre being aggressive before you assure him its how you express love, then he starts to do it back or lick you.

It's more of him casually putting a part of your body in his mouth protectively, he doesnt wanna hurt his mate ;-;

he still prefers licks and cuddles tho, anything that involves cuddles are ok for him!!

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Doriks cummin buckets im sorry

are you marking him as yours ? please do it some more please! maybe on his ear? arm? dick? chest?

hes all yours !!!

he offers to bite you back, itll eventually turn into very intense sex that ends with the both of you covered head to toe in bite marks

he wants round 2

use it as a reward and hes doing whatever you ask with the speed of a sports car

appears right next to you, neck exposed, waiting eagerly for another bite

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kalva is confused but laughs and bites you back, its a little painful because of the beak but he tries his best to be gentle.

he sees it as you trying to preen him and swoons over your 'attempt'

he preens you in order to teach how its really done! its mostly just an excuse to love on you <3

hes very ticklish so expect a flurry of giddly hoots and chirps from him whenever you nibble on him

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jasper is crying sobbing rolling on the floor rn

BITE HIM ON THE BECK PLEASE BITE HIM ON THE N-

he wants to roleplay with you being a vampire and him being your mortal soulmate

lil guy a bit freaky like that <3

moans so loud when you bite him, he has to apologize

euheheh eghghhh hes so crazy for you and your love bites

doesn't wanna bite back because skin on teeth is not a good sensation for him, but he'll cover your face in kisses to return the favor

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The vampires are cooing, swooning, absolutely simping for you

our little mortal is biting us so cute soc ute!!!!

get ready for never ending teasing and kissing

they point out the marks you leave and talk about how much better it would be if you were a vampire like them!

they fake terror over your bites, oh nooo a cute little human is biting me !! so so spooky !!

please let them bite you back

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Baron is short circuiting

ohmy oh oh my oh yomhyo-

thank you.

he has to process what just happened for a bit

tries to forget about it but he cant help but want another one when he gets a glimpse of your teeth when you talk or smile at him

stays up and imagines your mouth all over his skin leaving teeth marks everywhere

stayed up that night pumping his cock when he remembers you biting your lip that one time

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Caspian makes a big deal out of it

hes literally morticia in the addams family movie

last night you were unhinged, you were like some desperate howling demon, you frightened me

do it again

no please were are you going do it again!!!

"misbehaves" so you can bite him again as punishment

oops! i splashed you with water! you might have to bite me again~

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Hallow is yanking his fabric back and scolds you, what if you choked? he'd be worried sick!

gets you a chew fidget instead

doesnt quite understand love bites

please explain to him why eating him means you love him

maybe its because you think hes delicious? awwee thank you! youre delicious too i suppose !

coos over you as he holds you close, thank you for the bite honeypie!!

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Ashvan is squealing over how cute it was!!

blushes whenever you do, like very very flustered, his eyes might be covered by soft fur but you can almost see the redness on his face

his ears flatten as he tries to calm his frantically wagging tail

he gets much shyer whenever you smile at him or when you bite into your food during meals

he has to timidly ask for another bite with his index fingers touching together

please give him more biteys!!

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Axel tells you to bite harder

try it! hes tough! lets see how strong that jaw of yours is!

*frantically hiding his growing erection*

calls you little kitten or..rat

teases you by poking at your mouth with his finger to get you to bite

he loves it, he thinks its the cutest thing whenever you do it, especially when youre just subconsciously nibbling on him as if he was a chew toy

he makes sure his hands are always washed for you, no more touching dirty stuff carelessly, he gotta take care of himself for you!!

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King Alistair is pushing you away and coldly telling you no, but once you two are alone in your shared chambers, away from prying eyes, he softly tells you to continue

of course he loves you, he wants you to be free to express yourself, but please dont do it when people are watching

he has a reputation to uphold! not because he's shy and insecure about showing pda in public or anything...

bites back, definitely bites back!! out of all the ocs i think he bites the most next to Brandon

loves playing predator and prey whenever you two are fooling around together, if he ever leaves marks, hes kissing them softly to let you know he means no harm, he just got a bit carried away because youre just so sweet~!

if you leave marks, hes covering it up in his clothes, but occasionally he heads to he mirror, pulls away the fabric covering your lovebite, and smiles

argaragrgagrggrgargagrg

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wileys-russo · 5 months

Text

washing machine malfunction II m.earps x reader

based on this request here washing machine malfunction II m.earps

"taking footage to scout with are you?" your best friend teased as you filmed a clip of the game, smacking her knee and sending her a playful glare. "no! proving to mary i sat through the entire game." you quipped back, sending the video to your girlfriend and pocketing your phone.

"oh sorry are we not up to your standards? do you only watch games at old trafford or wembley now?" your best friend cooed pinching your cheek sharply. "yes actually, or at least where they have actual toilet blocks and not portaloos." your face scrunched up with disgust.

"hey if you'd like to donate some money toward that we'd be very grateful, not every womens team gets funding you know." your best friend huffed as you frowned and squeezed her knee.

"i'm only teasing. you know i'm happy to be here, just wish i was watching you yell at people on the pitch and not at me for once!" you sighed as the girl scoffed and smacked you, she was normally the captain but was out in a boot having sprained her ankle last week.

"so where are you coming on the table?" you clarified, eyes set back on the match unfolding in front of you. "third, but its only the fourth round of the season. lots can change!" the brunette admitted as the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.

"okay no offence to you and your entire team but your keeper kept you all alive this game, it should be 5-0." you whistled as the second half started to wind down.

"of course you favour the keeper, what a shock!" your best friend drawled sarcastically with a roll of her eyes as the whistle blew for full time and a 0-0 draw.

"hey just because my girlfriend is a golden glove holding, bbc sports personality of the year winning, world cup finalist and champion of europe with a tram named after her doesn't mean im bias to keepers!" you grinned holding your hands up as your best friend rolled your eyes.

"oh but you don't brag about her right." the girl mocked with a pout as your grin grew. "only to those who have no choice but to listen, i'd like to see you try and run away from me." you gently nudged your toe against her moon boot as she shoved you.

"you know you could always play with us next season! reallyyy make the girlfriend proud, i can see mary being a very loyal wag." the girl teased as you laughed sarcastically. "you couldn't afford my salary." you shrugged with a click of your tongue.

"more like we couldn't afford your two left feet and lack of hand eye coordination." the girl snickered gesturing for you to help her up. "yeah that too." you had no choice but to agree with a grimace, tugging her up and carefully helping her down toward the barrier.

you stood by as she gave a speech, commending the girls on their efforts as your phone buzzed and you looked down with a smile seeing it was a few messages from your girlfriend.

"god you're so in love its disgusting, get a grip!" you glanced back up and pocketed your phone, playfully punching your best friend in the arm as you waited for her to finish speaking with some of her team, having driven her to the game.

"you can tell us all about what we did wrong at training! stop making your poor mate wait around for you to run your mouth." the keeper from the game warned with a grin as she joined the small huddle you were in.

"you were perfect as per usual, only feedback is maybe score from the box next time? make the game a little spicy!" your best friend teased the taller girl who rolled her eyes. "no seriously you played great! that dive in injury time was textbook and that penalty save? world cup stuff." you complimented with a wide smile.

"and she'd know, her girlfriends played in one so thats high praise." your best friend interjected shoving your head playfully. "wait seriously? talk about a dream!" the girl exhaled with a whistle and a grin.

"well then since you clearly have a good eye for talent-" the girl paused to tug off her jersey, handing it to you with a grin before hugging the girls goodbye and heading off. "we best be off to, i'll see you all monday. i'll bring my whistle!" your best friend teased as the girls groaned, you waving goodbye as the two of you headed off to your car.

"i'd be leaving that in the car if you know whats good for you." your best friend nodded to the jersey on your back seat as you pulled a face and started up the car. "what! why?" you laughed as you drove off.

"umm because your girlfriend is a world class keeper and you just took a keepers jersey from someone else." your best friend hinted. "mary won't care! she's all for more girls wanting to be keepers and she loves the womens game." you rolled your eyes as your best friend only hummed, swiftly changing topics.

"maz? baby i'm home!" you called out as you let yourself in, unwrapping your scarf and hanging it up on the hook. "two seconds love!" you heard your girlfriend call out from the laundry as you took off your shoes.

"hello beautiful!" the brunette appeared with a grin, placing down a basket of clean laundry on the sofa and opening her arms as you melted into them. "you smell nice." you mumbled into her shoulder making the taller girl laugh.

"ah yes the wonders of soap and shampoo!" the keeper teased, kissing you hello before pulling away. "and she's doing laundry? house wife in the making over here!" you teased, smacking her playfully on the bum with a wink.

"oi! watch it cheeky." mary warned with a point, sitting down on the sofa as you leant over the back of it to peck her lips several times. "whats that babe?" mary noticed the jersey tucked into the back of your pants as you walked into the kitchen.

"oh! well the keeper of saf's team is like insane for the league level they play. i'm serious it could have been like twenty to nothing if she wasn't on her game. we were talking after the game and she gave me her jersey!" you shrugged, dropping the item onto the counter as you rummaged through the fridge, missing the look which crossed your girlfriends face.

"oh? thats nice." mary replied bluntly as you glanced at her with a small frown. "yeah it was." you shrugged it off, grabbing it and tossing it into the dirty basket of laundry.

"how was your afternoon?" you changed topics, grabbing out the stuff to make you and mary a cup of tea. "yeah fine, went shopping with tooney and had to make a last minute excuse to leave because she takes forever! so on the rare chance she asks, you're deathly ill and needed me back home." mary groaned dramatically, head thumping back against the sofa.

"like worse than you and thats saying something!" mary tutted as you made a noise of offence. "hey! if i have to sit in a sports store for two hours while you try on every fucking pair of gloves known to man and then buy none of them, you can carry my bags and sit on a comfy little waiting chair while i try a few outfits." you warned seriously as your girlfriend held her hands up in surrender.

"especially when some of those 'outfits' i spend hours trying on are for you." you hinted, handing her the mug of tea as a smug smile settled on the keepers lips.

"mm yeah we haven't been that sort of shopping for awhile, you free tomorrow baby?" mary grinned wolfishly as you flipped her off and settled into the section of the sofa that wasn't covered in laundry and flicking on the tv.

"change, put this on please babe." mary tugged on the bottom of your shirt, dropping a new item of clothing onto your head. "urgh mary!" you huffed, pulling it off and sending her a glare as she grinned at you with a mouthful of toothpaste.

"why do i need to change?" you noticed what she'd given you and asked with a knowing smile. "i don't like that shirt." mary shrugged pointing to your current top with her foot as she sat up on the counter brushing her teeth.

"its your shirt!" you laughed with a shake of your head. "then i want it back, so change." mary ordered, leaning over the sink and spitting. "what if i don't want to wear this?" you egged her on, holding up the jersey inbetween your fingers like it disgusted you.

"then go pick another one, theres about twenty or so in there you can choose from." mary shrugged nodding to her side of the closet where the jerseys she'd chosen to keep over the years hung proudly, rinsing out her mouth and stepping out of the bathroom.

"mmm i actually think i might go put on that jersey from today, saf's team just played so well." you stripped off your top and took a few steps back, watching your girlfriends eyes drop immediately to your chest.

"you know on second thoughts love i actually don't think you need to wear anything at all." you laughed as mary tackled you to the bed, attacking your face with kisses as you squealed and pushed her off. "you hate that i took that girls jersey today don't you?" you moved to sit on top of her with a grin.

"no!" mary rolled her eyes, reaching out for you as you grabbed her hands and pressed them into the mattress. "yes you are, admit it. you hate it, the thought of me wearing someone elses kit!" you teased with a smirk, pressing down her hands harder.

"okay well can you blame me? you're my girlfriend and you wear my jersey. nobody elses!" mary huffed with a frown as you smiled and leant down to kiss away her pout. "you're such a baby, its adorable." you mumbled against her lips.

"i am not! god you're such a wind up." mary pulled her hands free and flipped the two of you, hovering over you now as she ducked her head and started to gently kiss at your neck.

"and tomorrow the washing machine is going to malfunction and that girls jersey will sadly be gone."

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #mary earps x reader #mary earps #woso community #engwnt #woso blurbs

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unluckilyimnot · 2 months

Note

HI YIRL

so I rlly wanted to ask (actually I’m craving it rn) if you could do a sae, shidou and kurona hc when what they would do/ how would they react if their s/o is rlly good (like REALLY good) at like soccer or any other sport (basketball, volleyball I don’t really mind so do wtv<3)

s/o who's really good at sport

0.5 | fluff

m.list | rules

Note: HIII thank you for your request!! I'm an hc girlie ask anything ! It really like this one hihi I hope you like it !

Sae + volley ball

he loves the fact that you’re good at sport too

he doesn’t know shit about volleyball but he will learn by himself to understand when he see you play

it doesn’t matter if you’re pro or not, he likes to come see you play

don’t expect him to scream or whatever, but he tries to come every time

he wants to know more about strategy or your position in the team (libero, setter, ect)

the more he learn about it, the happier he is

will make you dinner or bento according to your daily training

he always knows what to do when you’re sore and can’t move because of the pain, but won’t do much for you because he’s in the same state

or he would be annoying and tells you things like “you should’ve stretch better”

comment whenever he thinks you played well or not

will try to help you do your best

you two do cardio together

running date

for fem body people, he’s really cautious if you’re on your period and tells you to be careful + give you pain killer along with your lunch

not your first fan bc your friends are way too extreme but he comes just after them <3

Shidou + boxing

wants to do it with you

he LOVES when you show him new things you’ve learn or teach him

he’s really good and you already told him to try out more but he loves soccer too much

it’s simply a good date idea to him

he’s screaming the loudest he can during competition

pretend to be you trainer sometimes to mess around

your number 1 fan

likes to play fight with you

he’s really dramatic, if you win at some point he will just lift you in the air and take a few turns

he loves to do basic sportif stuff with you

i’m not sure he’s that careful about his diet but if you are, he’ll listen to you and it can be an excuse to spend time with you

he likes coming with you for groceries

his fav protein shake are vanilla flavor

You always have to put an end to the fight he starts it

But if you're violent enough he'll end up being clingy bc you're hot

Kurona + basketball

he tries to make it to all of your matches

he seems like a big fan of basketball, i think he follows NBA play closely beside football

first hype boy man, you never fell down with him

and if you do, he’ll cheer you up like nobody else can, even your team mate

he always here to give you advices if you need

but he also loves to hear your point about his training and how he can get better

i feel like your better at building your training than him so he likes to do it with you

he would love to play with you sometimes, outside when the weather is fine with it is the best

he’s kinda insecure if some people came along and they’re better than him but thats still not his sport so it’s fine

as long as you enjoy it the fullest he’s the happiest

if you’re pro and you have to go aboard to play he’s sad ngl, he misses you a lot

tries to call you everyday

he’s the happiest honestly, he just likes being able to talk about sport freely whithout sounding nerdy

#blue lock x reader #blue lock headcanons #blue lock hc #bllk headcanons #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #bllk hcs #sae itoshi x reader #sae x reader #sae headcanons #shidou x reader #shidou headcanons #shidou fluff #kurona x reader #kurona fluff #kurona headcanons

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shit-talker · 10 days

Text

Are we just not going to talk about the frankly amazing symbolic storytelling Dead Boy Detectives did with Edwin and the Cat King? No?

Shut up, I'm doing it anyway.

We see Edwin, a 16 year old boy from 1916 who never got the chance to ever grow to fully develop any sort of understanding of his emotions and love life, who is so repressed that even he isn't aware of it, being faced with a very openly sexual being who then badgers him into having to accept that maybe he likes the boy he's being hanging around for more than 30 years as more than just a 'best mate'. It's SO good. Seriously, the way Edwin is slowly able to become more and more comfortable around the Cat King and is able to face him with a KISS ON THE CHEEK at the end?? That's prime symbolic self-acceptance. The way Edwin is eventually able to come to terms with the fact that yes, this is something that he has wanted for a very long time and it has affected him, but thats okay is just so damn good, and him then dismissing the Cat King because he's finally accepted himself as more than just what he was when he was alive?? I CAN NOT DEAL IT'S SO 0ERFECTLY DONE

#dead boy detectives #edwin payne #the cat king #like the relationship between edwin and the cat king was uncomfortable and odd but the symbolic undertones were FAR TOO GOOD #i just #it was so well done #and edwin being able to accept himself and then admit that to charles is something i wont ever get over

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harrysfolklore · 4 months

Note

hey could u do masie peters as a face claim with singer yn

i was dying to do tom x singer!yn and i this came up ! i really really hope you like it as much as i do !

AND HAPPY 29TH BIRTHDAY TO THE MAN THE MYTH THE LEGEND TOM BLYTH. ILY

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by rachelzegler, oliviarodrigo and 836,038 others

yourinstagram the good witch as been out for a week and i just want to say thank for all the love 🥹 here’s a pic of me right before recording the saddest song on the album lol

view all 18,037 comments

ynfan1 IM SO PROOOOUD

ynfan2 i love her so bad

troyesivan absolutely obsessed with every track

ynfan3 WE NEED THE DELUXE VERSION

rachelzegler I’m sooo obsessed with this album, I’ve played it on set like a hundred times this week I’m pretty sure all the cast is sick of me lol. LOVE YOU CONGRATS ❤️

↳ yourinstagram rachh 🥹🥹 thank you for your support ! means the world to me and i hope your cast mates don’t hate me lol. good luck on filming and i can’t wait to see the movie !!

↳ ynfan1 QUEENS SUPPORTING EACH OTHER

↳ ynfan3 i love them so much

liked by hunterschafer, yourinstagram and 486,529 others

tomblyth HG film dump. Just some of the many people I love who breathed life into this movie. @songbirdsandsnakes opens tomorrow 🤍

view all 11,160 comments

tomfan1 CRYING

tomfan2 this movie is about to change my life

mtv new crush unlocked

florencepugh ❤️

tomfan3 i love this cast so bad

rachelzegler LOVE YOU ALL 💘

tomfan4 my man my man my man

liked by shawnmendes, tomblyth and 840,726 others

yourinstagram MANCHESTER THAT WAS AWESOME !! and london you’re next 🥹

view all 18,937 comments

ynfan1 BEST SHOW IN THE WORLD

ynfan2 my turn when

madisonbeer superstar 🤍

rachelzegler I can’t wait to see you live !!

↳ tomblyth I’m tagging along

↳ tomfan1 WEEE TOM A YN FAN SO TRUE

↳ yourinstagram you guys are welcome anytime

ynfan3 she’s a celebrity to celebrities omg

mtv yn x tbosas cast? a yes from me

INTERVIEWS FROM TBOSAS PROMO

INSTAGRAM STORIES

liked by tomfan1, tomfan2 and 10,837 others

tomupdates TOM ARRIVING TO O2 ARENA IN LONDON TODAY?

view all 943 comments

tomfan1 OMGGG

ynfan1 YN HAS A SHOW THERE LAJSKA

tomfan2 he’s really seeing yn live😭 such a fanboy

ynfan2 that’s it. i ship them

↳ tomfan3 SAMEEEE

ynfan3 MY FAVES

liked by ynfan1, ynfan2 and 13,378 others

ynupdates “Tonight’s show is special. Not only because we’re at the O2 arena which is absolutely freaking cool, but also because we have some friends coming to see us, and it’s always a pleasure to play for old and new friends.” - YN at tonight’s show !

view all 966 comments

ynfan1 OMGGG

ynfan2 I LOVE HER

tomfan1 omfg is this about tom ???

tomfan2 TOM WAS IN THE AUDIENCE

ynfan3 she’s not sneaky

liked by conangray, tomblyth and 845,380 others

yourinstagram LONDON THAT WAS ONE OF MY FAVORITE SHOWS EVER !! thank you to everyone who came 🤍

view all 18,038 comments

ynfan1 I CANT BELIEVE I WAS THERE

ynfan2 POP QUEEN

oliviarodrigo best show ever 💜

tomfan1 i bet tom was fangirling the entire time

hunterschafer I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

tomblyth Amazing show and amazing performer, I'm blown away

↳ tomfan2 AHHHH

↳ tomfan3 i literally ship them so hard

↳ ynfan3 thats a MAN

FANS VIA TWITTER

liked by yourinstagram, hunterschafer and 764,093 others

tomblyth Afterparty-ing 🥂

view all 17,394 comments

tomfan1 YEEEEEES

tomfan2 HE WENT TO YN'S AFTERPATY

rachelzegler 👯‍♂️

ynfan1 hes so hooot yn better give him a chance

↳ tomfan3 chill they're just friends

yourinstagram thank you for coming 💕

↳ ynfan2 THE EMOJIII

↳ tomfan2 i'm trying so hard to be normal and not ship them

TEXTS BETWEEN TOM AND YN

liked by gracieabrams, lauraharrier and 876,309 others

yourinstagram unfiltered friday dump

view all 18,275 comments

ynfan1 i live for this

ynfan2 her monopoly obsession is still going strong

rachelzegler You sneaky shits! Invite me next time

↳ ynfan3 WHAT DOES SHE MEAN ?

↳ yourinstagram i’ll make sure snow lets you know next time

↳ tomfan1 SNOW ?? TOM??

↳ tomfan2 AHHHHH

tomblyth It was such a pleasure to beat you at Monopoly

↳ tomfan1 AH SO SHE WAS WITH TOM

↳ ynfan3 IM THROWING UP

↳ yourinstagram shhh don’t let everyone know🥲

↳ ynfan3 😭😭😭

liked by yourinstagram, maya_hawke and 630,998 others

tomblyth I made a new friend 😊

view all 18,937 comments

tomfan1 MY HEART

ynfan1 THATS YN’S DOG STFU

rachelzegler I keep getting excluded from this relationship 🥲🥲

↳ tomfan2 RELATIONSHIP???

↳ ynfan2 NOT RACHEL OUTING THEIR BUSINESS

hunterschafer babies

yourinstagram i can’t believe i’ve been replaced

↳ tomblyth Sorry love, I’m just really charming

↳ ynfan1 STOOOOOP

↳ tomfan3 HE’S SHAMELESS

DEUXMOI VIA INSTAGRAM STORIES

liked by tomfan1, ynfan1 and 40,826 others

celebrityleaks TOM BLYTH AND YN OUT IN LOS ANGELES TODAY

view all 2,927 comments

tomfan1 LORD

ynfan1 I KNEW IT

tomfan2 THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY

ynfan2 AHHHH I LOVE THIS SO MUCH

tomfan3 the couple we never knew we needed

ynfan3 we literally saw this relationship come to life I LOVE IT

tomfan4 byeee yall already claiming they’re in a relationship when they could be just friends

↳ ynfan1 you’re delulu

↳ tomfan1 the denial stage i see

liked by tomblyth, teddysphotos and 837,937 others

yourinstagram we’re in the middle of a tour but i couldn’t help myself and i got into the studio to pour out my lovey dovey feelings and ‘glue song’ came to life ! it’s going to be available everywhere on feb 2 (💓), i hope you like it 🥹

view all 19,045 comments

ynfan1 OH MY GOD ??

ynfan2 AHHHHHH WE WON

sabrinacarpenter such a sweet song i love it 🥰

tomfan1 IS THIS ABOUT TOM ??? BECAUSE IF IT IS I MIGHT CRY

gracieeabrams in your lover era 🥺

ynfan3 SHES DOWN BADDDDDD

tomfan3 HOLD ON. SHES RELEASING IT ON TOM’S BDAY !!!?

↳ tomfan1 YOU’RE RIGHT

↳ ynfan2 and just like that im sobbing again

tomfan2 i want to be stuck to tom like glue too

tomblyth ❤️

↳ ynfan3 SOBBING

↳ tomfan3 THIS IS CONFIRMATION

liked by yourinstagram, hunterschafer and 702,825 others

tomblyth What the bracelets say ❤️ @yourinstagram

view all 17,937 comments

tomfan1 STOP IT

ynfan1 i’ve died dead

rachelzegler MY BABIES MY LOVES 😭💘

↳ tomfan2 if you think about it rachel was lowkey the matchmaker here

↳ tomfan1 hunter aswell !

hunterschafer 🥲🥲🥲🤍🤍🤍

ynfan2 SHE DESERVES A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP IM SO HAPPY

tomfan3 couple of the century for real

ynfan3 THE FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS 😩

yourinstagram love you be stuck 2 u you and your early morning karaoke 💘 happy birthday my love

↳ ynfan1 AHHHH

↳ tomfan3 WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS INFORMATION

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feetinthewaves · 5 months

Text

Don't breathe, that will disturb the sound - Vivianne Miedema

Summary :

You get annoyed with Vivianne because you can't tell her how you feel, little do you know the blonde feels the same.

Warnings :

Angst(?) with fluff towards the end. This has also not been proofread, I apologise 😔 🤞

Viv and Beth obviously aren't together for the sake of this fic.

Again, I am new to writing like this so feedback is appreciated and actually encouraged !! Thank you, happy reading !!

It was your birthday, and the girls had gone all out planning a party for you, hosting it at your house because it was "easy access for the birthday girl" but in reality you knew they just didn't want to have to deal with it at any of their houses. The party started at 8pm, given it was currently 6.30pm, you and Vivianne, your roommate, began getting yourselves and the house ready. The kitchen table was full of drinks and food for people to eat, a karaoke machine on display in the corner for Beth and Steph, just dance on the tv for Kyra and Leah, and most of the furniture pushed to the side to make room so no matter the state of sobriety, Jonas wasn't going to have to worry about injury.

You watched as Vivianne emerged from her room, sporting a white turtleneck, with black jeans. You couldn't help but stare at your best mate.

You and Viv had been friends ever since she joined arsenal in 2017, and over those 7 years your feelings for yoru best friend slowly began to evolve. And there. was nothing you could do to stop it.

"You're staring schatje," Her voice finally bringing you back around.

"Sorry," You apologised, barely above a whisper, so quiet the blonde hardly caught it at all. Either way the way you had been staring at her had left deep burgundy blush adoring her cheeks, but you were too caught up in your own embarrassment to notice.

You already gotten changed, opting for just a black skirt, tights, and a white button down. Everyone that night would notice the way Viv's eyes stayed glued to you, everyone but you.

The party was in full swing, music blaring over the speakers in your house, you'd had your fair share of dancing with the girls and decided to go and pour yourself another drink in the kitchen.

Thats when you saw her.

Viv.

Talking to some girl you recognised from the Man United squad, 'One of Lessi's friends' you thought to yourself, choosing to ignore them. Before you noticed the way Vivianne was laughing with her.

You broke.

Her laugh was like music to your ears, brightening the room, along with your mood when ever you heard it.

You wanted to be the one to make her laugh like that, the only one to make her laugh like that.

Viv noticed you, as you finally turned away and began making yourself another drink. Back turned to her, what she failed to notice where the tears slipping down your cheeks. You weren't even entirely sure why, but you were sure that you had to avoid Viv for the rest of the night, scared if you even looked into her eyes for 2 seconds you'd tell her everything about how you feel. As you hear her call out your name, you straighten your shoulders, turn around towards her, and walk straight past her.

The blonde grows upset.

Concerned.

Angry.

Of course she does.

She knows that you had heard her shout your name, and she can't quite understand why you had ignored her. Thats when she becomes conscious of the brunette next to hers hand on her thigh, pushing it off, wishing it was you. She begins her journey to find you through the crowd of people.

There you were, sat outside by yourself on the balcony, 'were you crying?' she thought. She was right, now noticing the tear tracks staining your face, removing the concealer from underneath your eyes. Her heart broke.

She'd done this.

And she didn't even understand how.

"Y/n?" she tried quietly, not wanting to startle you, "Y/n, what's wrong?"

You didn't answer her, you wanted to, you really did, but you knew you couldn't. You could waste 7 years of friendship over a silly little crush. But it wasn't a crush. No. You loved her. You really did. Could you tell her that? 'No.' you thought to yourself. She can't know.

"Y/n?" she quietly asked again, "please talk to me,"

Still no answer.

"Schatje?" she tried,

Finally, you looked up at her, straight into her blue eyes, instantly apologising.

"Sorry, god I am so sorry-" you manage to croak out before bursting into tears, the blonde instantly at your side holding you.

"Schatje, what's going on, please tell me, I can't fix this unless you tell me what I've done" she asked, a sense of pleading evident in her voice.

You began to cry harder, and she began to apologise, making you cry harder, she wasn't in the wrong, it was you.

"I'm sorry y/n. I promise, I didn't mean to ruin your evening, especially not on your birthday." panic filling her voice,

"You didn't ruin anything, you made this so much better, just by being here, I'm the one who should be sorry." you manage to sniffle out between tears, hiccuping as you do so, making the two of you find laughter even in a moment like this.

"Schatje, I'm not sure I quite understand, what's going on?" she pressed, annoyance prevalent in her voice this time, showing she wanted an answer and not for you to just start blaming yourself again.

"God Viv, don't you get it?" You began to shout, distancing yourself from the dutch girl by standing up. The atmosphere shifting suddenly, "I hated watching her, that girl, all over you, making you laugh." You're crying again now, you must look pathetic you think to yourself, "I want to be the one to make you laugh Viv. Me. I want that, to be, me. Is that too much to ask?" Your shouting by this point, certain everyone inside can hear you but you're past caring at this point, just wanting Viv to finally understand how you feel.

"Y/n/n?" she asks smirking, "What are you saying?" She knows full well what you mean, but she can't seem to believe that the girl she loves, would ever, feel the same way about her.

"I love you Viv I have done for years. And seeing you flirt with other girls and never notice me hurts okay. God Viv I get that you might not feel the same but wipe that smirk off your face because I thought you'd atleast have enough decency to not make fun of me-" She cuts you off. Kissing you. Your shocked at first, but you soon begin to kiss her back. Its slow and sweet, everything you'd ever imagined.

"Sorry, you wouldn't shut up and I couldn't have you thinking I was laughing at you." she explains after seeing the shock on your face. Shock is an understatement. You are completely dumbfounded at what just happened, Viv notices quite quickly, pulling you into her side with a giggle.

"Y/n/n. Schatje. Ik houd van je." she says quietly, her head dipping into your neck, whispering against your hair.

At that moment then, you are content, in the arms of the girl you love, the girl who loves you back. Your best friend and person.

#woso one shot #vivianne miedema x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #vivianne miedema #woso imagines

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ritcchamadayo · 1 year

Note

For Valentine's Day, could I request the overblot boys and Malleus getting jealous because their s/o is making everyone (as in the known students) in their dorm chocolate but it turns out, s/o had prepared a whole gift basket of goodies (chocolate, flowers, cakes,etc) for them?

omg thats such a cute little thought (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ all the love for our overblot babies!!!!

Special Sweets for You!

Riddle + Leona + Azul + Jamil + Vil + Idia + Malleus x Reader ; It's Valentine's! You've been going around giving gifts and chocolates for everyone around the school, but... Did you perhaps forget someone? (Choco... yum.)

Riddle Rosehearts

"Sweet! I'm posting this on Magicam! #Valentines, #ChocolatesFromThePrefect, #NotSoSweetChocolates!" "Thanks!" "Oh wow, thank you!"

Riddle looked around, seeing the prefect of Ramshackle Dorm running around and giving Valentines chocolates to his dorm mates. But Riddle was confused, was the Prefect ignoring him on purpose? Every time he passed by or called out for the prefect, you'd run away quickly or mutter a quick apology before reaching out to someone else. Giving out Valentines chocolates aren't a violation of the Queen of Hearts' rules, and Riddle also wanted you to give him some chocolates... His mother may beg to differ, but Riddle would gladly eat all the chocolates he obtained during Valentines. The day went on with the Prefect ignoring Riddle, and he quickly has had enough.

The prefect was with Trey in the Heartslabyul kitchen, and Riddle stomped in the room. With a slight grin, Trey exited the room and raised his thumbs, saying a quiet good luck. After closing the door behind him, Riddle walked up to you. "So, (Y/n). Mind telling me why you've been ignoring me the entire day?" His small frame was enough to corner you on the kitchen table, making sure you can't avoid him or his gaze. You moved back from intimidation, but pulled up all your courage in front of him.

"I wanted to give you something more special than the rest! B-but I didn't have the courage to do so earlier... I'm sorry, Riddle. Will you be my Valentine's?" You held out a small basket filled with rose-shaped, rose-flavored chocolates and decorative rose petals while shyly looking up to Riddle. Riddle was surprised at the sudden gesture and blushed *hard*, his entire face turning as red as the roses outside. "I-I suppose it was also my fault for jumping into conclusions... Yes, I'd love to be your Valentine's, my rose."

Leona Kingscholar

"PREFECT, YOU'RE THE BEST!!!" "T-thanks. I didn't expect to get chocolates today." Leona was woken up from his nap to Ruggie jumping around like a kid getting candy- except, yes, he *is* getting candy. Chocolates even! Jack also got some from you, and he thanked you shyly while his excitement was clearly seen from his wagging tail.

'Ah, It's Valentines', Leona thought. But you seemed too preoccupied with Ruggie and Jack, it's starting to piss him off a little bit. Not to mention a few other Savanaclaw students approached you in hopes of getting chocolates, and you obliged by giving each one a small chocolate truffle. All the boys cheered happily after getting a chocolate from you! it's kind of like when you give your pets a treat, but instead they're beastmen.

Leona leaned on the door handle, his eyebrows scrunching. "Oi. If you have nothing better to do, I suggest you all scram and let me nap in peace." Everyone ran off, including Ruggie and Jack who each gave you a hug first. You called Leona over and ushered him to lie down on your lap so he could continue his snoozing. "What's up with all the chocolates today, Herbivore? Tryna get all buddy buddy with the students?"

You laughed when he said that, softly massaging his temples. "Come on, don't frown like that- I've brought you a more special gift than the ones I gave out." You grab the basket filled with flowers from Sunset Savanna and a box of chocolate-covered cookies, setting it beside the beastman. "Be my Valentine's?" Leona scoffs, closing his eyes. "You herbivores and your weird holidays. Yeah yeah, sure. I'll be your Valentine's today." "I'd say you were just jealous, Leona." The beastman lightly hit you using his tail, but you can't help but notice that he's happy from how his tail is swinging back and forth.

Azul Ashengrotto

"Yay~! Chocolates from Shrimpy~!" "Oh my, what a thoughtful gift. Thank you, (Y/n)."

Azul watches intently as the twins talk animatedly to you in front of the VIP room, each holding a small purple box filled with sweets. Floyd was lightly squeezing you from behind, while Jade leaned on the wall and talked casually to you. Whenever a Mostro worker passes by, you made sure to call them out and give them a tiny chocolate as well to thank them for their hard work, which Floyd and Jade had commented on saying how "benevolent" you were.

Azul sulks slightly in his office. "I'm working hard too.." The octo-mer saw the three of you walk towards him in the office, and he quickly straightened up his position. "Well well, quite an honor to have you visit us in the Lounge today." Azul put on his best smile, to which the twins snorted at. Azul sighed and kicked the twins out of the office and chastised them for slacking off at work, before closing the door behind him and turning back to you. "Is there anything I can help you with?" You giggle softly, seeing his banter with the twins. "Oh, no no. It's just that I saw you were staring holes into us while we were chatting outside, I was wondering if *you* needed anything." Azul let out an audible squeak, he didn't mean to stare that intently. "A-ah, my apologies, I was simply zoned out." "Zoned out? Or expecting something?"

Azul averted his gaze away from you, fidgeting with his fingers. You decide that you've had enough teasing the Octo-mer, and pulled out a basket filled with hand-made chocolate truffles and a bouquet of white flowers. "Hehe, I couldn't resist teasing you. For the most hard-working manager of the year, will you be my Valentine's?"

Azul couldn't decide whether to open or close his mouth as he stood there gaping like a fish out of water. An octopus out of water, if you may. He quickly cleared his throat and fixed his crooked glasses, showing you his usual composure and confidence once again. "Ahem- Since you've put in the effort to give me such an exquisite gift, I would happily become your Valentine's, love."

Jamil Viper

Jamil stared at the tall tower of boxes in the Scarabia dorm. "Prefect, Kalim... Mind telling me what this is?" You stood on a ladder while Kalim held onto it for safety, and you quickly place a box on top of the pile. "There you go! I wanted to give Kalim a chocolate for Valentines, but it seems like he was drowning in chocolates sent by other students and from his family... So we decided to make a tower out of it!"

Jamil mentally facepalmed. "Kalim, didn't you say that you're gonna stop your family from sending excessive amounts of chocolate...?" "Ah! I did! But it seems like they still did it anyway.. Oh well~" Kalim cheered, laughing happily. "You can take some if you want, Jamil!" The taller man shook his head, staring at the boxes of chocolate-covered dates in front of him. "No thanks. I don't want the Asims to think I'm taking what's yours, Kalim."

Kalim didn't mind, he simply shrugged and went off to find more dorm mates to offer chocolates. You could tell Jamil looked a little put off by something though, even if you didn't know what it was. "You okay, Jamil?" You call out, waving a hand in front of his face. "Ah... (Y/n). Yeah, I'm alright. Why do you ask?" Although he answered you, his eyes were constantly trailing towards the decorated orange box on top of the pile- the chocolates you gave to Kalim, specifically. You took Jamil's hand and dragged him away from the choco-tower, finding yourselves in the dorm's courtyard.

"I made some sweets for you too, Jamil. I, wanted it to be more special than the complementary ones I gave Kalim, so... Will you be my Valentine's?" Jamil stared at the basket in front him, neatly tied with a red and yellow ribbon. "I made the chocolates using Scalding Sands spices, by the way! I think it really makes them taste better, and perhaps bring a bit of home for you." Jamil broke into laughter, accepting the basket from your hands. "Oh prefect, you never fail to surprise me. Chocolates with spices are definitely a good move. Of course I'll be your Valentine's, (Y/n)."

Vil Schoenheit

You definitely had your worries about giving chocolates to THE Vil Schoenheit. And that didn't escape Vil's eyes either, as he watches you give chocolates to Epel and Rook in front of Pomefiore's doors. "Mon Trickster! What wonderful gift you have given us!" "These look great, thanks so much!"

Vil keeps watching silently as Rook told Epel the wonders of chocolate, and how it could fatten you up if you ate too much at once, while also reminding Epel to not eat any of the chocolates Vil's fans had shipped to Pomefiore. Epel only sighed in defeat as he listens to another one of his senior's rants, making a mental note to make sure he finishes his share of the chocolates before Rook or Vil could complain about it to him.

"My dear Roi du Poison, what has your mind occupied?" Rook said, looking at the silent Vil. "If you have any trouble, I'm positive our Prefect here could give you the solution to your woes?" Rook looked at you with a knowing smile, pulling Epel with him and entering the dorm to leave the two of you alone.

"U-um, Vil-" "No words are needed, (Y/n). I suppose you were confused on what to give me for Valentines, but I can't help but feel a little betrayed." He leans into your face a little, and you had to look away from his sharp gaze.

You shook your head, pulling out a neatly decorated box. Vil took the box into his hands, and quietly gasps as he sees multiple chocolate-dipped apple slices and strawberries. "I know you're usually strict when it comes to your diet, and you always have a bunch of fans sending you the highest quality chocolates out there.. So I tried making my own, but using fruits to sort of lessen the guilt of eating them. Sorry if it didn't rise up to your expectations.."

Vil softly laughs, taking a strawberry and gingerly biting into it, his beauty while eating your sweets making you fall for him all over again. "After so many expensive packaged chocolates, seeing you give me a more personalized, homemade one makes it all the more better. You truly are the only one worthy of being my Valentine's, (Y/n). Thank you.

Idia Shroud

Don't get me started with Idia. If you asked him if he's looking forward to Valentines, he'd respond to you like this :

"valentines? LOL, cringe." "the only gifts im getting are the valentine's edition SSR card, fuhehe~" "eugh, don't lump me in with those mushy lovey-dovey normies."

But even after saying all that, he can't help but sulk in his room when he saw you and Ortho giving out chocolates to other Ignihyde students. Ortho couldn't consume any chocolates, so you got him to join you and share the joy with the other students instead. Ortho thinks it was a blast!

Idia looked at his computer screen, the cutesy song from his gacha game playing on his headphones. He got the card he's been waiting for, and he also got free gems from his valentine's login event, so why does he feel so... sad?

*knock knock* "Nii-san~!" "What is it, Orth- UUAAGH!" Idia almost screamed as he sees you in front of his door, immediately shutting the door in your face. "G-GIVE ME A SECOND...!" He quickly closed his game and made sure he looked decent before stepping out, covering his face with his tablet. His tablet lit up and the speaking software came up, Idia's voice coming out of the speakers. "W-what is it? Y-you're not here to laugh at me for playing games or anything, right..?"

"What? No! I'm here to give you these, Idia." You pull out a beautifully decorated cake with blueberries and blue icing, and gave it to Idia. "I know you said it's cringe, but would you still be my Valentine's? I made this cake so you could snack on it while you game too, and it wouldn't dirty your hands or get all crumbly over your desk."

Idia's hair turned a bright pink, as he accepted the cake and gave his tablet to Ortho for safe keeping. Idia opened his mouth to thank you personally, but was too shy to say it. "T-Thank you.. I-it's cringe, but I'll be your Valentine's."

Malleus Draconia

Did Malleus know it was Valentine's day? Probably not. But was he jealous when he saw you with Lilia, Sebek, and Silver laughing and chatting together in Diasomnia's lounge? Perhaps.

"HUMAN!! I don't usually accept gifts from a mere human, but... thanks." "These are really cute chocolates~ I'll make sure to return the favor on White Day, and I'll make handmade chocolates too~" "Thank you, Prefect. These are perfect to keep me awake for studying." He thought he wasn't invited again, and he was already outside walking dejectedly towards Ramshackle dorm. Maybe the peace over there would soothe him a little.. "Tsunotaro? Is that you?"

The sight of you walking back to your dorm takes him out of his trance, and Malleus stands up to greet you. "Greetings, Child of Man. Coming back from Diasomnia, were you?" You nod, running towards him and ushering him to sit on the grass. "Yeah! Today is Valentine's day, so I wanted to share some chocolates with Lilia, Silver, and Sebek! I didn't quite see you around, though.. Ah, do they not have Valentines over at Briar Valley? Usually on Valentines day, you give sweets or chocolates to the people you love."

Malleus knew what Valentines was, but he didn't realize it was on that day. Upon hearing your words, he was even more dejected, knowing that he didn't get one when his other peers did. He was so absorbed in his sulking, he didn't realize you rummaging through your bag and pushing a piece of chocolate onto his lips. Malleus gasped in surprise, but indulged you and let you feed him the chocolate. "Did I mention that you could ask a loved one to become your partner on this day?"

The fae's earlier pout turned into a smirk, as he licks his lips clean of your chocolates. "Hoo? Continue.."

You pull out a glass container decorated with elegant black motifs, and multiple black and white chocolates were stacked on top of each other. "Will you be my Valentine's, Tsunotaro?" Malleus took the chocolates from your hands, closely examining your elegant handiwork and took your hand in his, as you two sat on the grass surrounded by glittering fireflies. "Alright, I shall indulge you and become your Valentine's today, dearest (Y/n)."

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