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rinniessance · 5 months

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DADDY'S FAVORITE GIRL ༊*·˚ - step dad!gojo x fem!reader

going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to in the summer is a new step-dad. and you do not like the dangerous glint in his eyes every time he looks at you.

꒰ warnings: nsfw - dark content - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. step dad!gojo, stepcest, age difference (reader is implied to be 21, gojo is in his late 30s), dubcon, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, heavy daddy kink, so many pet names (babygirl, pretty, doll, princess etc.), slight dacraphyllia, slight overstimulation, breeding kink, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption kink. plot is kinda messy 'cause i was rushing to get to the smut, sowwy ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.1k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i am freely being my most disgusting self, thank you for supporting my little insane brain .ᐟ.ᐟ꒱

going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to during summer break is a new step-dad. ever since your parents divorced when you were 14, your mom has been single – your teenage years, she dedicated herself to you, protecting you from your scumbag father, focusing on your future. you even agreed to delay your college admittance until you were 20, taking two gap years after your high school to stay at your hometown with her. your mom has the worst case of separation anxiety – which is why maybe you should’ve been more concerned when she gradually stopped texting you as the days went on. you assumed the best – maybe she found a hobby, maybe she reconnected with old friends, maybe she finally realized you are an adult and stopped babying you every waking moment. what you did not expect is for her to get married.

these are the thoughts running through you head as you stand in the middle of your living room, fresh out the airport, gawking at the man sleeping on the couch, and wonder how the fuck that happened. you would’ve honestly screamed and thought this was a squatter, or a robber, if not for all the wedding pictures obnoxiously decorating almost every available surface (god, how many photos do you need?). you try not to think too much about it – the flight was 6 hours, you barely got any sleep sitting to the smelliest man on the planet, and you just want to take a shower and go to bed. just as you start walking off, the front door swings open.

“oh my god, sweetheart, you’re home!” your mom’s voice booms through the quiet room resonating like a thunderclap in the middle of a still field. she runs to you, immediately pulling you into a hug which you happily return. you’re genuinely delighted to see her, albeit feeling a little weirded out by a man she decided to bring home. your mother looks over to the couch, man’s sleeping figure not moving once, and sighs with exasperation. “i assume he didn’t pick you up?”

“no but it’s okay…” you whisper quietly and gesture towards the figure on the couch with your head, “about that, though…”

“yeah, honey, i know, i am sorry i didn’t tell you. everything has been happening so quickly, i haven’t even had time to process it myself!” she squealed like a school girl. “his name is satoru gojo and we met at the charity event i went to six months ago.”

“since when do you attend charity events?” you ask, quirking the brow upwards.

“oh, i didn’t know what to do with myself ever since you moved out so i’ve been trying anything and everything. and look, the results have been phenomenal!” she giggled, frustration she had towards her husband about not picking you up melting away in front of your eyes. god, he really had her wrapped around his finger.

“okay, well, i am kind of tired so i wanted to go to bed. is it okay if we talk about this tomorrow?”

your mom suddenly looks down at her feet, a little embarrassed. what did she do.

“yes, about that… that room was sitting unutilized the whole time you were away so satoru and i thought it would be a good idea to remake it into a home office, kind of. your bed is still in there though! so you can sleep in the room no problem.”

“mom, what the fuck…” you whine. not only your room with all your memories and all your personality was gone and demolished, you now have to sleep in the room that was most likely used by him. “home office” my ass, you thought – your mom would not need it in a million years, and by the way she’s avoiding your gaze in shame, it was definitely not her idea.

“i’m sorry baby, but you’ve been away and…”

you interrupt her with a wave of your hand.

“whatever, i’m too tired to think about it. i’ll take a shower and go to bed, i don’t wanna deal with him until tomorrow,” you sigh with frustration and walk off into your home office, dropping your things on the floor.

what you don’t see as you walk off is the dangerous glint in satoru’s eyes as he listens to every bits of your conversation. you said the last sentence with so much poison, he thinks it might’ve struck him dead. gojo knows it will be difficult to get on your good side now but he likes to play these games on hard mode.

oh, you will be so much fun to break.

gojo satoru is a patient man – when he really wants something, he is content to wait until he gets it. that being the main reason why he approaches you slowly. it’s the next day after you arrive that he has a chance to introduce himself properly.

you leave the room after having the best night’s sleep – you really didn’t mind waking up in the office today, you must’ve been too tired to think straight and threw a fit yesterday. you make a mental note to apologize to your mom later. as you turn into the kitchen, you’re met with the view you wish did not have such a strong effect on you – your step-dad, freshly out of the shower, grey sweatpants low riding on his hips, is preparing what seems to be breakfast.

you’re so fucked.

you try to shake off the feeling of arousal washing over you. you may not have had a chance to have any sexual experiences yet, but you’re not that much of a virgin not to know when you’re feeling horny. you just wish it wasn’t due to the incredibly hot step-dad. the left-over frustration from previous night bubbles up like over spilled champagne and you decide to keep your distance. anger helps you keep yourself grounded, and you maneuver around the man to make breakfast, but you see that he prepared it for you already.

“oh, thank you,” you say quietly as he extends the plate to you.

“you’re very welcome, sweetheart.”

the nickname sends a shiver down your spine.

gojo turns to face you and gives you his breathtaking smile. you want to choke on your toast.

“i wanted to apologize for not picking you up yesterday. your mom told me so much about you, and i was excited to meet her ‘favorite girl’,” his eyes spark with a dangerous glint at the nickname, making you shrink into yourself, “but my work held me up, and then i think i went for a quick nap and… uh… ended up falling asleep,” he says with a light chuckle.

“that’s okay, i didn’t really mind the train ride,” you respond with visible discomfort,

he now stands next to you by the counter, his body heat palpable, melting over you like a scorching son. gojo’s all-teeth smile is gorgeous, frustratingly enough, but it makes your skin crawl: like a prey walking into the carefully designed trap, you can feel your gut asking you to run. it makes sense your mom fell for him so easily.

“will you let me make up for it? let’s go our for a dinner, i’m sure your mom would be delighted to hear we’re trying to get along.”

“i don’t know, i haven’t seen my friends in some time, i think i’ll be hanging out with them for a while,” you shuffle from leg to leg, trying to move away

“that’s okay, we have a whole summer ahead.”

for some reason it felt more like a threat than a promise.

you smile politely back, not knowing what to say, rushing to finish your breakfast. the image of your step-dad, half-naked in your family kitchen talking to you about his plans with you for the whole summer should be weird – it’s difficult to find it weird when the said step-dad is criminally hot, unfortunately.

“i think i’ll go now, thanks for the breakfast,” gojo’s gives you a smile so sweet, it somehow triggers a toothache, and waves you off. since yesterday, he’s been making you feel extremely on edge for no apparent reason, it’s driving you a little insane.

when you come back home that evening, you are greeted by both your mom and satoru with the dinner ready. she babbles about how great of a cook he is, and that she can’t wait until you try it. you politely decline citing that you’re full and quickly leave for your room – satoru’s blue eyes were looking at you with almost an animalistic stare, and you hated that you liked it.

gojo thought things were going well with you – he’s given you the space you need in the first two weeks after you arrived. your mom was overjoyed seeing how deeply satoru already cared about you – making sure you eat in the morning, not letting you go to bed without a meal, always checking on you throughout the day, keeping you safe. you, however, thought it was… weird, if anything, that he was all around you this intensely.

“oh, honey, that’s just how he shows that he cares. he was like that with me as well,” your mom tells you one of the nights when you bring it up. it worries you how easily she takes his side now and wonder if something else is going on.

satoru picks you up when you stay out too late, to the wee hour of the night when the subways stop running; he makes sure you have your nights with your mom, when he doesn’t intrude on your backyard conversations and only adores you pretty features from his second-floor window; he learns what movies and music and tv you like, trying to decipher the person that is you.

he’s been putting all this effort to get to know your every step – then why the fuck does he find you one night you kissing some random boy on your driveway?

you said you were going out today and no pickup was needed – now it makes sense why.

gojo satoru is a patient man. but even his patience can start running thin, trickling like water through cracks in the fingers. hourglass of his kindness has been half full for a while now – it’s about time the sand runs out.

you think a boy like him can give you what satoru can? just you wait and see.

kitchen is uncharacteristically quiet when you walk in. it’s the next morning, and usually by now, satoru would be making breakfast for you. his job is still unknown – you are not sure if he was suddenly called in but the feeling of happy solitude falls over you, even if for a moment.

your mom is gone at least for two weeks for work, you’re dreading the moment you have to be left alone with your step-dad. the look in his eyes yesterday was dangerous, a predator appraising its victim before sinking its teeth in, and you’re happy megumi was able to leave quickly after walking you home. surprisingly, gojo didn’t say you a word when you walked into the house, silently sitting in front of the tv like he didn’t just spy through the window on your kiss with the boy.

air in the room was heavy with tension – you knew satoru was avoiding looking your way, jaw clenched, hands balled into fists. instinctively, you wanted to break the silence, say something to discharge the electricity jumping through the atoms of your stuffy living room air, but ultimately decided against it. you have nothing to say to a man, and it’s not like you needed to justify your actions in front of him anyways. you quickly retreated into the office and avoided him until you fell asleep.

when you woke up to an empty apartment not even fifteen minutes ago, you felt relief. walking into the kitchen and confirming your presence alone, you even felt happy. then what is this weird feeling, almost as if you are missing something, nagging at you? you thought of going out today but now a strange desire to stay at home washes over.

you make breakfast for the first time since you came home (gojo didn’t skip a single day, you have no idea how he kept up with that), and you chastise yourself for feeling weird about cooking for yourself; and you chastise yourself again when your mind lingers on the thoughts of a certain white-haired man; and again when you look at your phone, convincing yourself it’s a bad idea to text him. god, you feel so stupid. didn’t you want him to stop being so unsettlingly sweet and dotting around you all the time?

conflicted by your irrationality once again, you frustratingly take your plate and sit down on the couch. flipping through the netlifx previews, you land on something to distract your mind by. you settle on some true crime documentary and let the horrors on the screen consume you, abandoning for a moment the thoughts plaguing your head.

you’ve been glued to the screen for at least two hours before you heard the jiggle of the keys. like an eager puppy, you waited for gojo to come inside and greet you like he would every day – only for him to completely ignore your presence, beelining straight for the kitchen. turning your head back to the tv, you try your best not to pay any attention to the uncharacteristic behavior from satoru’s end.

“i will be in the home office the whole day, don’t enter.”

before you can respond anything back, your step-dad is already walking off without sparing you a second glance. is he still upset from yesterday? you didn’t think kissing megumi would be that much of a deal. your nervously play with the hem of the blanket, show playing on tv long forgotten, contemplating what you should do next. why are you bothered by his silence this much anyways?

rethinking your earlier choice, you send a quick text to your friend asking to meet you for drinks. maybe right now gojo needs space, or whatever, and leaving him alone is the best next thing right now. you knock at the door of the home office.

“sorry, i am going out now and need to quickly change.”

not even 5 seconds pass before the door is swung open by a man that’s been occupying too much of your mental space today.

“be quick,” is the only response you get before he leaves the room and closes the door behind him. you’re perplexed by this sudden change in behavior yet again. throwing on the first decent outfit you can find, you let gojo know that you’re done and will be home later; hum is the only acknowledgment you get before he disappears in the office.

exiling all the thoughts of satoru gojo from your head, you leave your house, hoping tomorrow will put all the pieces of the puzzle back together.

yet the next day comes, and you still wake up to no warmth from satoru – it felt as if he built a wall between the two of you in one night’s span, impossible to be breached. should you talk to him? should you apologize? and apologize for what? you didn’t do anything wrong, did you? ignoring the gnawing feeling inside once more, you retreat to the living room, sulking on the couch until the end of the day, clawing onto the hope gojo of tomorrow will acknowledge your existence.

“did i do something wrong?”

you stand in the doorway to gojo’s office, arms crossed over your chest. he lazily turns his head your way as if giving you even a second of his time is too much of a bother – the look he sends you is burning through your core, making you pathetically weak and wet.

“no,” he starts slowly, “do you think you did something wrong?”

“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking. you’ve been ignoring me for the past week, and it’s getting weird.”

“i thought i’d leave you alone, it seems you’re capable of having fun on your own.”

satoru is looking back to his screen now, and you scrunch your eyebrows, frustrated by the riddles he’s throwing your way. walking inside the room, your close the door on instinct and take wide steps to stand in front of him.

“stop answering me like this, we’re not playing a charade. what do you mean?” the demand in your voice is clear, and it twists something inside satoru – his gaze falls on you again yet this time it’s dark, taunting, dangerous, with a hint of chaos. it scares and excites you.

gojo suddenly stands up, and pushes you into his desk until you’re sitting on it. he is tall – your mom basically married a giant – and you try to curl into yourself to escape his malicious eyes.

“what, i thought you wanted me to leave your alone? you want my attention now all of a sudden?” he respond with the question of his own in a mocking tone.

“i never said i wanted you to ignore me…” you answer meekly, yelping slightly as your back hits his desk – you suddenly realize there is nowhere to run now.

“really? we’ve been together in a house for almost a month now, and yet you showed no interest in getting to know me.”

“’m sorry…” you cannot think of anything else to say. gojo moves even closer, and is now towering over you – it makes you embarrassingly horny.

“show me how sorry you are.”

before you can respond, he is caging your body with his and capturing your lips in a kiss, and you freeze – all of this is so wrong, you cannot bring yourself to start moving your mouth against his. gojo’s tongue coerces its way inside, exploring the undiscovered paths, his teeth biting your still lips. closing your eyes, you whimper and try to push him away but he only catches your wrists with his one hand, while the other plays with the hem of your shorts. a gasp escapes your lips, and you push yourself further into the desk, squirming under gojo’s body.

“what, you don’t like it? i thought my little girl wanted daddy’s attention?” he torments you, voice condescending and thick with mockery. all you can muster is a pathetic mewl, words lost somewhere inside your throat, and dig your fingers into the edge of your desk as your step-dad forces his digits inside your panties, lightly brushing against your clit.

“god, you’re already so wet, so filthy,” he whispers between the heated kisses as the pads of his fingers keep teasing your pussy. “tell me, babygirl, are you still a virgin? gotta know how to treat you.”

“y-yes…”

“well, am i just not the luckiest?” gojo chuckles darkly, spreading your legs with his thigh. unoccupied hand goes to grip your hip while the fingers on the other are still working your clit, sliding the digits between your puffy lips, teasing your hole. every time he circles around the entrance and mocks by pushing his finger just slightly inside, the moan builds up in your throat, and you’re too embarrassed to let it out.

“common, baby, your daddy wants to hear you, don’t hide your pretty voice from me.”

gojo is infuriatingly good with his fingers – you could never bring yourself this much pleasure from playing with your clit, and your defiance starts melting away as you find yourself bucking your hips into his hand, whining pitifully. the man completely removes your shorts and underwear, shoving the latter into his pocket – something to remember this moment by.

“god, such a pretty pussy, i can’t believe you’ve been hiding it from me. take off your shirt so i can see all of you, princess.”

immense desire pools between your legs, hunger and lust evident in satoru’s cerulean eyes, now hidden by dilated pupils, and you’re surrendering yourself to him – want makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong. you remove the top, nipples perked and waiting. gojo looks at you in wonder and disbelief – all of that for him? his hand went to squeeze your boob almost on an instinct, rolling the nipple between the pads of his fingers, while sucking on another with his mouth. you drop your head back, losing yourself to the intense pleasure your step-dad’s giving you. seeing as you’re distracted by him playing with your tits, he takes this as his chance to shove two of his fingers inside.

a strangled moan leaves your lips, your hands gripping man’s shoulders.

“ahhh, that hurts, satoru.”

“nah-uh, that’s not what i want to hear you calling me,” he straightens himself and starts scissoring you with his digits. the initial intrusion is painful, you can feel your virgin walls stretching to accommodate for how he’s dragging the fingers in and out, yet the burn is woefully delightful, and you’re getting lost again.

“’m sorry daddy.”

gojo only chuckles – god, you were easier than he expected, so well-behaved and pliable under him.

“that’s right, let daddy take good care of you.”

he speeds up the pace, curling his slender, pretty fingers, brushing the spots you were never able to reach with your own. wet, soggy sounds fill the entirety of the room, air already stuffy with smell of sex as he continues to finger-fuck your pussy. gojo could feel his cock twitching in his pants, he wanted to take you right there and then, but he was determined to make you cum on his digits first – it prompts him to attach his lips to your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot below your jawline, marking you as his.

your mewling turns louder, breathing is getting labored, and it seems your hips have a mind of their own now as they are bucking into satoru’s movements, fucking yourself how you need it. something akin to orgasm starts building up in your tummy – it has never felt this all-consuming, you wonder if you’ve been touching yourself wrong all this time.

“daddy, please don’t – ah! – stop,” is everything you can say in a measly attempt to ask him to speed up. his thumb finds your neglected clit, rubbing tight circles around your bundle of nerves, and picks up the pace, cunt now clenching even tighter around his two fingers, and gojo groans thinking how you’d feel around his aching dick. he adds a third finger – it’s angled so perfectly assault your special spongy spot, it turns your brain into a mush.

gojo pinches your nipple, kissing you to swallow all the lewd moans to himself.

“is my princess close?”

“yes daddy, ‘m so close.”

“common, cum all over my fingers, baby.”

these words finally push you over the edge – your climax washes over you like a cold morning shower, leaving you trembling in gojo’s hold. your legs are trying to close to stop the man from continuing his abuse on your twitching pussy but he is too lost in the feeling of your walls constricting around his fingers to allow you to do that. he fucks you through your orgasm, bringing you to the realm of overstimulation.

“ahh, daddy, please, it hurts now,” you whine with teary voice, beads of salty water gathering in the corners of your eyes.

“shhhh, daddy knows best, yeah? let me feel you a little longer.”

gojo keeps his pace until you’re clawing at his arm, trying to pull away your pussy from his fingers. he grabs you by the back of your head, bruising your lips with the intensity of his kiss – you’re sure he draws blood by how he bites your lower lip, licking the messy aftermath. you’re still whining and mewling, trails of tears finally flowing down your face, and he’s sure he’s never seen anything hotter as he licks the salty tracks.

“you’ve done so good, babygirl, i think you’re ready for the main gift,” satoru says and finally withdraws his fingers. the emptiness is welcoming yet disappointing, and you groan. gojo quickly unbuckles his pants and shoves them down, alongside his boxer briefs, and you almost choke on your spit when you see how well-endowed he is. you don’t have a lot to compare it to but you think his cock is beautiful – it's long and slender, and uncut, prominent vein running all the way from the base to just underside of his head, and you get an immeasurable desire to run your tongue along it.

“is my pretty doll drooling jus’ at the sight of my dick?” he mockingly asks you, making you turn your gaze away. gojo chuckles again, and grabs you by your chin, pulling your head down.

“no looking away, darling, i want you to see how i take your virginity.”

with no other option, you keep your gaze peeled downwards, to where gojo strokes himself couple of times before lining himself up with your leaking hole. despite all the preparation and your previous orgasm, you’re still incredibly tight and satoru groans as he starts pushing himself inside. you can see his smooth cockhead bullying his way into you, stretching your greedy walls – man feels you pulsating around him, and that makes him twitch.

“fuck, princess, you’re so tight, feels so good.”

gojo finally sinks all the way in, your cervix being met in a kiss by a swollen tip, and you moan, sound almost pornographic. your step-dad doesn’t let you adjust before he pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in – he doesn’t go easy on you for your first time, setting up a brutal pace, not caring if you’re ready to take him fully yet. it stings, and you have to hold yourself on gojo’s shoulder’s as he starts fucking into you. his hands are on your hips, guiding them to meet his thrusts.

“daddy please, ‘ts too much,” you cry out but satoru is all too lost in how your gummy walls perfectly hug his swollen cock. he doesn’t respond, shutting you up by forcing his tongue into his mouth yet again, sucking on every piece of available flesh. slowly, the tension in your body melts away and gives way to a new kind of pressure – the one building up in your tummy. you’re shocked at how fast your body is able to start getting on the road to blissful ecstasy again but you’re not complaining.

“shit, are you getting close already, babygirl? i can feel your pretty pussy squeezing me again.”

“yes, sorry daddy.”

“there is nothing to be sorry about, just means your daddy’s doing a good job,” he says with a grin, keeping up the pace, rutting into your sloppy cunt. queefing sounds and slapping of skin on skin make you blush furiously yet you can’t take away your gaze from where satoru keeps burying himself inside you.

the girth of gojo’s cock is deadly – not only he’s able to reach the spongy spot almost immediately, making white spots dancing across your vision, kaleidoscope of pleasure lighting up your every nerve ending, he is also bruising your cervix just with enough pressure to make you twitch in delight. his pubic bone grinds against your puffy clit and it’s setting up fireworks against your skin, hot molten lava igniting your whole being.

your moaning becomes uncontrollable as satoru’s fucking you in an animalistic pace – he keeps splitting you open, the spread of legs is slowly growing uncomfortable.

“look how good you’re taking me, being such a good girl for me,” he’s babbling, edging himself too – he wants to feel you spasming around his cock, he cannot let himself cum before that. “gonna feel so good cumming inside, pretty. give you a cute little brother or sister, huh? what do you think? i bet you’ll look so gorgeous being pregnant with my baby.”

“no, daddy, you can’t do that…”

“hm, why? just imagine, you walking around, with my child inside your belly, all cute and swollen for me, tits full of milk. wouldn’t you want that?”

you hiccup a sob as gojo keeps dragging his heavy cock in and out of you, the vein you saw before pressing against your walls deliciously, and you feel your toes start to curl as your body chases after the second orgasm. you dig your nails into his biceps, certain to leave half moon marks on his porcelain skin, and bite your lip. in turn, he is pressing his fingers against the plum skin of your hips, marking you with bruises to remind you of this tomorrow.

“shit, i haven’t fucked your cunny for that long yet it’s already perfectly snuggled around me. i’m training it fast, huh? i’m gonna teach it to fit only me,” you can hear the grin in his voice as he says that.

gojo feels your walls tighten around him – he can see you’re teetering on the edge of climax, whining and moaning under the man, letting him completely use you – so he picks up the speed, assaulting your abused pussy. it doesn’t take longer than that for the tension in your tummy to snap, and you’re wantonly crying out satoru’s name.

“fuck, dollface, you’re squeezing me so perfectly right now. want to milk me for all i’ve got?”

you’re cock drunk, unable to respond to him, hoping your mewling will be enough for the man to see he fucked you stupid. he is not showing signs of slowing down – you can only continue whining as satoru chases after his own pleasure. he pistons his hips couple of times more, and you can feel him throbbing inside as he shoots creamy ropes of cum inside you, painting your womb white. the ring of mixed fluids at the bottom of his cock drives him insane, and he continues fucking his cum into you.

“shit baby, can’t waste a single drop now, can we.”

you’re letting out a quiet sob, pleasure too overwhelming and almost feverish, still unable to find your voice. when he deems it satisfactory that his seed is all warm inside you, gojo finally pulls out and kisses the top of your head.

“i’d say this was a good practice run, what do you say? your mom only comes back in a week, i’ll make you my personal cumdump until then.”

you snap your head up at his words, the smile playing on your step-dad’s face borderline sinister. you think it’s supposed to make you scared, then why is your pussy already twitching around nothing?

“yes daddy, anything for you.”

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disneyprincemuke · 8 days

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i forgot that you existed * sv5

you didn't expect to run into your ex ever again, yet here you are and you find yourself pretending like you'd never met him before.

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!reader

trope: fake amnesia

wc: 1.4k

(f1 masterlist) | (falling in reverse)

you hide behind a display in the middle of the supermarket, stacked boxes keeping you somewhat hidden from the man you’ve stalked the moment you got out of your car in the parking lot. you keep your head down to avoid getting recognised back.

an uncanny lookalike of the man you swore was the love of your life stepped out of the car parked next to yours and it’s like you’ve been in a trance ever since. you can’t tear your eyes away from the man now sauntering within the supermarket with a basket hanging from his arms loosely.

because you know that you packed everything up and moved halfway across the world when you thought you’d go crazy from the reality that he’d left you at the altar — on your wedding day.

it’s been 5 years since he watched you walk down the aisles of a church with your shared friends and families covered in a white dress that took you 2 months to choose. an entire lifetime ago since you had taken one last step up to the altar before he had run in the direction you came from and never be seen again.

in the back of your mind, you remember the way it felt like life had lost all its meaning after that day. life started to grey itself out as the living soul was sucked out of your body.

all for him to relay a message through his parents, thoroughly embarrassed to tell you that all the man could muster up was a pathetic and humiliating apology: ‘i’m sorry’.

he’s sorry? that’s all he could say to you after spending — wasting — 6 years of your life with him, planning your future and ending it abruptly on the day you were supposed to vow that you’d spend the rest of your lives together.

you’d daydreamed several times about the things you would say to him if you’d ever chanced upon running into him again. it went several different ways: sometimes you thought about throwing punches for making you question everything or falling to your knees in tears asking him how and why he could do this to you, and sometimes the scenario goes in a way that he’s the one begging you for an apology at your feet and saying that he regrets it.

the days seemed to pass by slowly and painfully after he’d left you. but you just remembered waking up one morning and hating the way your reflection stared at you in the mirror.

you were a mess.

so you packed your things and left everything behind — you moved halfway across the world and started anew. you haven’t regretted that decision.

and what are the chances that you’d run into sebastian in an obscure supermarket on the other side of the globe half a decade later? you had left your hometown for this very possibility only for it to happen much later in life at a time you would never have expected.

now that you’re stalking him (unstealthily), everything you’d sworn that you would say to him is thrown out of the window.

you follow him into an aisle and linger at the edge of the aisle, feigning interest in the baking goods displayed neatly on the shelves. you pick up an item and drop your head to look at it, though your eyes can’t help but trail up to the man standing on the other end of the aisle.

it really is him. no matter how much reasoning you do with yourself, there’s no denying that sebastian vettel is standing in the very same property as you for the first time since the unfortunate demise of your relationship.

you seriously consider walking up to him and clocking him in the face then bolting away. because you know — used to — him and he wouldn’t hesitate to throw back a punch.

sebastian turns his head in your direction abruptly, making you whirl back around to the shelf in front of you. and then it happens.

you hear your name being called out by a voice you’d longed to hear after all these years.

you start to panic. you consider all of the possible options to escape the situation. maybe you still have time to start running? it’s just a supermarket; there’s several others everywhere else. you can just start doing your grocery shopping elsewhere.

ah, but this is the biggest supermarket closest to you and it’s got everything you need.

but as sebastian slowly approaches you, you find your mouth speaking faster than your head could process. “do i know you?”

do i know you? where the hell did that come from?

sebastian stops a a distance from you, jaw hung as he tilts his head at your words. “what?”

you swallow the formed lump in your throat as you look at him, wide eyed and hands balled into fists by your side. perhaps you should just pretend that he’s got the wrong person.

yet it seems that your mouth will continue to run without your brain. “yeah, i got into an accident a couple of years ago. it affected my memory.” you smile slightly. “did i know you?”

you watch as he tries to find a response to what you’ve just said. and he’s better than you, you think, because he still managed to find something to say. “accident? i’m so sorry.” you wave off his concerns with a hand in the air and a shake of your head. “we, uh,” he sucks in a breath, “used to be really good friends.”

good friends. men really are liars.

“oh, what a shame,” you say with a grimace, as if you mean it. as if you don’t actually remember the way he’d made you feel small. “how nice that i run into a familiar — well, unfamiliar — face. i haven’t seen you in any photo albums.”

you start to think that your mouth has a mind of its own. you swear that you’ve seen a movie with this exact plot: feigning memory loss to avoid the real consequences of running into someone from your past life. or it could just be a result of all your panic.

because he is in every single photo album you’d brought along with you. there’s holes in those albums, photos with sebastian now sitting in a box in the store room of your little apartment, in the deepest corner where it cannot be acquired without hardwork.

you lie again with a soft laugh. “when i was told my memory was completely wiped from my accident, i took off in an attempt to start again. but how nice that i run into a familiar — well, unfamiliar — face again.”

sebastian stands there in silence for a moment. “i’d really love to catch up some time,” sebastian offers with a small smile. “find out about this new life you have and everything.”

you feel an insurmountable rage fill your chest. your chest feels heavy and your head starts to pound.

you should really just start running back to your car now.

“that would be a great idea!” what the hell. that’s literally not what you had meant to say. you were considering laying it on him and screaming at him in the middle of the supermarket. it’s just so unfair that he stands here acting like he hadn’t driven you to the brink of insanity in your 20s.

“fantastic!” sebastian grins fishing for his phone in the pocket of his jacket. “let me get your number so we can find a day we’re both free? i have to head back to finish unpacking my boxes — i just relocated here for work recently.”

“what are the chances,” you joke through gritted teeth, typing your number into the contact sheet he’d pulled up for you. you should just run now with his phone and throw it into the lake nearby. “well, it’s nice running into you. i’ll hopefully see you soon!” you perk up and turn around. “sorry, i didn’t catch your name earlier.”

he grins, “it’s sebastian.”

gen taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @localwhoore @namgification

series taglist: @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @lozzamez3 @haikyuu-carat @bicchaan @cinnamongirlontv

#sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 fanfiction #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke fir

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charliemwrites · 5 months

Text

Part 7 of Charmed Slasher Simon

CW for gore and violence. No smut (yet) this part was already long enough so I’m saving it for part 8

The carpets are drenched in blood, squish beneath Simon’s boots as he toes a lifeless arm out of the way. Headcount: 5 dead, 6 to go. And you for last.

You, wide eyed and paralyzed as you recognized the skull mask from nearly a year ago. Your manager had to drag you off. Simon’s going to cut his fingers off one by one for that.

Your coworkers are such easy prey. Hapless in the dark with a snowstorm raging outside. Huddling first for warmth and now from fear. You’re trying to gather everyone up; strength in numbers. Not a bad idea. But Simon’s faster and quieter and he’s been picking them off one by one.

The ones you’ve always liked he gives a quick death. A hot spill of blood before they even realize they’re dead. The others though - ones that have reported you to HR, badmouthed you to the boss, so much as stolen a pen. Those he’s been taking special care with, dooming them to long, slow deaths that you always stumble upon too late to do much more than cry and hold their hands.

Oh you’re so pretty like this. It really is the best of you. Too kind for your own good, all that altruism useless against a tidal wave of violence. He loves to watch you be so good.

It’s three more before he finds you again - separated from that manager. All on your own. Simon will have his guts for that as well, since he’s not using them.

He lunges at you, just slow enough that you can duck away as his knife thunks against the wall. Your eyes are so big; he can see the reflection of the mask in them.

You scramble away without looking back like the smart girl you are and Simon grins to himself as he takes his time following. There’s a yelp and then a thump, your quiet curse. Simon rounds the corner but you’re long gone - the smeared blood from you slipping though…

His cock twitches. You, covered in the blood of his victims, your own coworkers…

He rips the mask off and tucks the knife away as he hears voices up ahead. His name in a harsh whisper. He puts on the same terrified look he’s seen a million times, crouches down as he wobbles around the corner.

“Riley!”

You choke off a sob as you stumble to him, hands reaching. He catches you fast, eyes flicking over your shoulder to find Brandon trembling behind the couch.

“Where have you been?!” you murmur, eyes flicking over his face, his body. “oh, god you’re covered in blood!”

“‘S not mine, luv.”

You sniffle, shaking hands gripping at his forearms. “I-it’s awful. I don’t know why this is happening again.”

“It’ll be alright, I’ll keep you safe from him.”

You give him a half-hearted smile. Simon mirrors it, putting on his best survivor face.

“How do you know it’s a ‘he’?” Brandon asks.

Simon levels him a flat look. “Caught a glimpse of him gutting your manager. Big fucking bloke.”

You whimper; he’s all too happy to bundle you in his arms, stain you in crimson. From the other side of the couch, Brandon is staring. Hard.

“Where have you been?”

“Hiding. Like you.”

You pull away, frown at Brandon in confusion.

“Where?” Brandon persists.

Simon narrows his eyes in warning but the wormfood doesn’t take it back.

“Wherever I can,” Simon answers. “Like you.”

“Then why are you covered in so much blood?”

You step between them, as if you could do anything if they did start fighting.

“Brandon, what are you getting at?” You ask. “You don’t seriously think…?”

“Well where the hell did all that blood come from then?!”

Simon scoffs, puts a little hysteria in it. “You think I did all this?! You think I - that I-”

Except once he starts laughing in disbelief, he can’t stop. It’s just too funny. This idiot that can’t recognize something that doesn’t belong to him has Simon clocked in less than five cumulative minutes. Meanwhile, you’ve been orbiting around him like a little moon for months and haven’t had so much as an inkling.

“I can’t,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I can’t keep a straight face. Never was much of an actor.”

The blood is draining from your face as you stare at him, warring with denial burning in your eyes. He coos, slips the mask from his back pocket and waves it in front of your face.

“Been too long since we last did this, eh, luv? Better venue than the hospital at least.”

You whimper, too frightened to even cry properly, all that water and energy going into survival. He takes a single step forward and grins as you nearly trip over yourself getting away.

“Careful, luv. I want a proper chase from you this time.”

But first-

“If you stay right there and give her time to run, I might not flay off all your skin.”

And the fucking coward bolts. Simon tsks in disgust, pulls the mask over his face.

“Looks like you didn’t learn the lesson last time,” he muses to you. “Your friends haven’t got any better. I’ll have to find another way to make the lesson stick.”

You pivot and dart around the couch, sprinting for the same doorway Brandon went through. Simon merrily follows, hopping the couch and letting his boots land hard to warn you that he’s right behind you.

You take sharp corners and double back, thinking that his larger size will make it harder to change directions. It would be smart in any other situation, against anyone else. But this is Simon, and he’s letting you stay just out of reach. Only tugging at your clothes when it seems like you need an extra boost.

As you’re passing through a doorway, there’s an ominous creak. A huge grandfather clock that nearly slams into Simon. You don’t dare look back, taking the next corner and disappearing.

Simon looks up at the landing where the clock used to stand. Brandon is leaning over the railing, white knuckled and despairing. Simon cracks his neck, rolls his shoulders.

“Alright then.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #charmed slasher ghost #final girl reader

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venusacrossthestars · 1 month

Text

a choice I can live with

Summary: you thought that after that night in Monaco you would never see Carlos Sainz again. but what do they say? when one door closes another door opens.

Pairing- Carlos Sainz x fem!reader

WC-10,182

warnings- swearing, making out, it gets a little hot and heavy towards the end, angst, Lando is more of an ass than he was in part one, reader is in her feels, the word slut is used.

this is a part 2 to 'a choice I don't want to make' read it HERE before reading this part

F1 masterlist

December 2021

You didn't like this foreign feeling that was settled in your stomach. All you were trying to do was pick out a movie while your popcorn cooled down, so why did it all feel so wrong? Sighing, you turned off the TV and placed the remote on the coffee table. It was Lando’s turn to pick the movie. The thought washed over you like a tidal wave. Suddenly the aspect of having a movie night no longer sounded appealing. Picking up the popcorn bowl from the coffee table, you walked over to the trash can and threw away the popcorn. Just like 15 years of friendship.

You plopped back down on your couch, sinking into the cushions. The last time you had seen Lando had been that night in Monaco; the last time you had any contact with him was when you sent him that text the following morning. That was in May. You knew that he saw your message, the taunting little ‘read’ underneath had only made you feel worse. As if it wasn’t the consequences of your own actions.

The past 6 and a half months had been miserable. Every time you had exciting news you found yourself thinking- ‘I can’t wait to tell Lando!’ only to remember that you couldn’t. You could barely talk to your own mother without feeling more guilt over the situation. You could feel her disappointment through the phone. As your mother, she was on your side, she told you as much, but it wasn’t without a disappointed sigh.

You had other friends, you had a world that didn’t revolve around your now ex-best friend but sometimes it didn’t feel like it. However, the couple of times that you had braved stalking Lando’s socials you couldn’t help but feel as if he never needed you. Maybe that was the truth.

You could face Lando’s socials, and you could manage the tweets and comments you saw about him. But you couldn’t bring yourself to check Carlos’s. Maybe it was the fear of seeing that he moved on. Maybe it was that he seemed perfectly fine. That was something you were comfortable staying in the dark with.

A knock on the door startles you out of your pitiful self-deprecating spiral. You silently groan, it was too late to be dealing with people. Maybe it was one of your neighbor's friends who got the numbers mixed up and if you stayed silent they would realize. The universe must really have it out for you because the knocking continued, louder and more insistent than before. Getting up, you shuffled to the door taking a quick peek through the peephole. The face on the other end had you quickly undoing the chain and unlocking the deadbolt.

“Carlos?”

“Hi.” Is the only thing that Carlos says.

You rub your eyes, making sure that he wasn’t an illusion, that you haven’t gone mad in these past months. When you bring your hands away from your eyes and re-open them, Carlos is still there standing in front of you with a bouquet of white tulips.

Carlos breaks the silence, “These are for you,” he holds out the bouquet, “I was told that white tulips represent an apology and forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness?” You parrot back, not taking the flowers. Why is giving you flowers that represent an apology and forgiveness? “What are you apologizing for?”

Carlos rocks back and forth on his heels, ignoring your question, “Can I come in?”

You move away from the door frame and hold the door wider allowing for Carlos to enter. Embarrassment washes over you as you come to the realization that this is the first time Carlos has been in your flat, and while it didn’t look like a total disaster, you certainly wish it was cleaner.

“What are you apologizing for?” You ask again.

Carlos spins to face you, “Do you have a vase for these?”

“Carlos,” you try again, “what are you doing here?”

Carlos wanders towards your kitchen, “Like I said, I am here to apologize.” He waves the flowers around.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“All of it. For letting Lando talk to you like that. For letting you leave with him. For letting you walk away that night on the roof. For not responding back to your text. I’m mostly sorry for how long it took me to come see you, to come talk to you.”

“Carlos, you don’t need to apologize. For any of it.”

“It takes two to tango.” He points out.

“It’s been 6 and a half months Carlos, you should move on.”

“Have you?”

That simple question was all it took for you to break. Honestly, you should have been able to move on. You should’ve been able to leave this whole situation back in Monaco. So why were your feelings for Carlos just as strong as they were back then? Even after your attempt to cut him out of your life he still stood here in your flat with a bouquet of flowers, apologizing for not coming to you sooner.

“I haven’t,” you whisper, not trusting your voice.

Carlos sets the flowers down on the counter and moves in front of you. You avert your gaze to the ground, knowing that if you looked him in the eyes there would be no stopping the tears.

Carlos doesn’t let you. His hand gently moves your chin so that you are looking him directly in the eyes. He doesn’t say anything about your tears, he only moves to wipe them away and unlike that night in Monaco, you let him. His hands are still surprisingly soft, just like that night the two of you kissed.

He moves his hands away and you nearly sob at the loss of contact but before you can say anything Carlos is pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap around your middle, hands sprawled out across your back. It takes you a second to register what is happening but once you do you are quick to mirror his motions.

You bury your head into his chest and close your eyes. There is something about being wrapped in Carlos’s arms that makes you feel like everything is going to be okay. You take in a shaky breath. You haven’t been this happy to see someone in a long time and that simple thought is what causes you to break out in sobs.

Carlos tries to pull away, presumingly to ask you if everything is okay, but you are quick to pull him back into your embrace. “Just hold me. Please.” You manage out between sobs.

“As you wish.”

You don’t know how long you stand in the middle of your kitchen in Carlos’s arms, and frankly, you don’t care. The soothing circles Carlos rubs on your back and the gentle swaying of both your bodies is enough to make you calm down.

“Do you want to sit down?” Carlos pulls away, hands still holding your arms.

You nod, leading him into your living room, and you sink into your couch. Carlos sits directly next to you, close enough to where both of your thighs rest against each other. “I’m sorry,” you begin, “I didn’t mean to get snot all over your shirt.”

“No need to apologize.”

“I’m sorry for more than that. I’m sorry too Carlos, for all of it. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“Stop,” Carlos puts his hand up and you close your mouth. “If anyone deserves an apology it’s you. That night I was hurt, I didn’t stop to think what it was like in your shoes. I'll never know what it is like to have my supposed ‘best friend’ tell me to pick between two important people in my life. I've never been in that position.”

“Carlos,” you begin but he stops you again.

“I spoke to Lando the next day, right after you texted me. I was furious with him. How could someone call their best friend those things? How could he, the same man who told me that he wanted me to stay away from you because he wanted to protect you, flip a switch that easily? He showed me the message you sent and I felt my heart break more. Asking him to put all the blame on you? Asking him to not blame me when we were both responsible? Pinning all the blame on yourself just so that he and I could still be friends?”

You knew that Lando had read your message but knowing that he had shown Carlos that same day made his lack of response hurt ten times more. “You talked to him? He showed you the message?”

Carlos nods his head. “I should say I yelled at him that morning rather than talked. We’ve spoken a couple times since then but I can tell he is still furious.”

You figured, Lando wasn’t one to let go of grudges easily. “I can’t help but miss him, even with what he said to me.”

“And that’s okay,” Carlos comforts you, “he is -was- your best friend for a long time. I wouldn’t expect you not to miss him.”

“This is the first winter break we’ve been apart since we met. I don’t know what to do.” You admit to Carlos.

Carlos rests a hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles across the material of your sweatpants. And you look at him with tears in your eyes. You are so sick of crying over this whole situation, you've wasted enough tears.

“I don’t know what kind of traditions the two of you have but if you'd like, I was thinking we could make our own?” Carlos questions. You look at him with wide eyes and he continues, “I don’t want to replace him or those good memories but I think making our own would be fun.”

“I would love that Carlos.” you smile at him. “There is one thing though. If this,” you point back and forth at the both of you, “is going to be a serious relationship, we need to take it slow.”

“How slow is slow?”

“Why? Do you not want to take things slow?” You panic internally. Did he change his mind?

Does he not want to take things slow? You know that his life is fast-paced so does slow just not work for him?

“No, no, no,” he hurries out sensing your panic, “Slow is fine, I’d wait a lifetime if you asked mi amor. I’m just asking because I want to kiss you.”

“Oh.”

“Can I kiss you Hermosa?” Carlos asks in a whisper.

You nod and Carlos closes the gap between the two of you. Unlike the last time the two of you shared a kiss this one was slower, sweeter but somehow more passionate. With closed eyes, you relished the feeling of his lips on yours even more so because you thought you would never experience this feeling again.

Carlos pulls away after a moment and you open your eyes and glance at his swollen lips, a slight you’ll never get sick of. Overcome with emotion you launch yourself onto Carlos, pushing him on his back into the cushions of your couch.

Shock is written all over his face, “Are you okay?”

You shake your head, not trusting your voice and Carlos pulls you into his chest. Carlos’s hand runs over your head and after a moment of savoring the comforting gesture you speak up,

“Thank you for coming to see me. I really thought I’d never see you again.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

January 2022

Carlos wasn’t lying when he said that you wouldn't be able to get rid of him easily. The man was stuck on you like a popsicle on a hot summer day, not that you were complaining.

New Year’s came and went and Carlos insisted that he spend it with you. You argued that you weren’t doing anything fun, that you would probably be sleeping while everyone else was out ringing in the new year, and that he should go out and spend it with his friends. Carlos had refused, stating he rather be somewhere quiet celebrating with you. So the two of you had rang in the New Year together in your flat with a cheap bottle of champagne and poppers you set off on your balcony.

It was only a few days later that, as you were making dinner, you got a call from Carlos.

“Are you free this weekend?” Carlos asked as soon as you accepted the call.

“Well, hello to you too Carlos,” you chuckle at his enthusiasm.

“Hello mi amor, how are you this fine afternoon.”

“I am spectacular, and how are you, Mr. Sainz?” You can’t help but break out in a smile, something you seem to do whenever you hear from Carlos.

“Good, however, I would be even better if you answered my question. Are you free this weekend?”

“I think so, why?”

“I want to take you out.”

“Like on a date?”

“Yes, like a date. I would be a bad boyfriend if I didn’t take my love on dates, wouldn’t I?”

“Oh, I didn’t know we were officially boyfriend/girlfriend.” You tease, Carlos knew fully well how you felt about him.

“Don’t play around with me.”

“What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking you’d come over to my place and I’d cook for you.”

“Oh, I would love that but Carlos you don’t live in London.” It amuses you to have to point out that simple fact.

“I know, that’s why I asked if you were free the entire weekend. I was going to fly you out to Madrid.”

You freeze at his nonchalant attitude, to him this was a small little gesture and you can tell that he thinks nothing of it. You, on the other hand, were thinking way too much of it.

“Carlos, I can't come to Madrid. I don’t have the money for it right now.” You say defeatedly, as much as you wanted to see Carlos you couldn't drop that type of money on a flight.

“I think you missed the part where I said I would fly you out. You wouldn’t be paying for anything.”

“Carlos, this isn’t how I want this relationship to be. I won’t be seen as a sugar baby.” You tell him seriously and all you can hear is him laughing over the phone.

“Mi amor, you are not a sugar baby. You are my girlfriend. My girlfriend who I want to see and spend time with so desperately that I am offering her, as her boyfriend, to fly her to my home so she can spend time with me- her boyfriend.”

You bite the skin around your nails carefully weighing your options. You want to see Carlos but on the other hand, you were worried. What if someone spots you? What if someone outed your relationship? You still wanted to take things slow and this was all moving a little fast for you.

You voice your worries to Carlos and you hear him sigh over the phone, “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry mi amor.”

“No, I’m sorry. I should be jumping at this opportunity. You want to spend time with me and here I am acting like a brat. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing is wrong with you. I need to respect your wishes. You have no need to apologize.”

“I still feel bad.”

“Don’t. There will be other opportunities.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, do not worry about it. Listen I have to go, I will call you later okay?”

“I’ll be waiting.” The two of you exchange quick goodbyes and you are then left alone with your thoughts. Saying yes wouldn’t have killed you, in fact, you should’ve said yes. So what if someone saw you and Carlos? Since when did you care what the rest of the world thought of you?

You drop your head on the kitchen counter, lightly banging it muttering a quiet ‘stupid, stupid, stupid.’ Oh well, there was nothing you could do about it now.

Your Friday nights always play out the same way. You get home from work, take a quick shower, put on a pair of sweatpants (you’re pretty sure these were a pair of Lando’s from years ago) and a baggy top, order something, and watch a crappy movie.

You have only finished step 3 of your routine, about to start step 4 when there is a knock at your door. You weren’t expecting anyone other than the delivery man but you hadn’t even placed your order yet, so if it was the Chinese place already you really needed to change up your diet.

When you open your door you aren’t greeted by the greasy teenager who typically delivers your food, instead, you are greeted with a comfy-looking Carlos who has a backpack in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other.

“Carlos, what are you doing here?”

“Are you not happy to see me?” He questions with a slight pout.

“Of course, I’m happy to see you,” you reach across the threshold to grab his wrist and pull him into your flat, “I’m just surprised to see you here.”

“I’m here to spend the weekend with my girlfriend and cook her dinner,” he proudly states, holding up the bag of groceries.

You could melt into a puddle right there and then. “Carlos, you didn’t have to come all the way here.”

A look of panic is now written all over Carlos’s face. “I’m an idiot.” You raise an eyebrow at his admission and gesture for him to spit the rest out. “You said you wanted to take things slow and here I am showing up without notice.”

You wave your hands frantically, “You are not an idiot. I’m happy you’re here. Ever since I turned down your offer I’ve been thinking that maybe we don’t have to take things slow.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to pressure you into anything.”

“I am more than sure. I am sick of overthinking. Who cares what everyone else thinks of me?”

Carlos’s look of panic is replaced by the biggest grin you have ever seen. He drops his backpack and groceries, his hands aren’t empty for long because the next thing you know you are being lifted in his arms and spun around.

“Carlos!” you squeal out, not expecting to be picked up.

Carlos sets you down gently and cups your face in his hands, you are then attacked by an onslaught of kisses. He kisses your cheeks, your lips, nose, and forehead. No part of your face is left untouched by his lips.

You giggle at the sensation, “Carlos, Carlos,” you try to get his attention but he seems too lost in his own world. “Okay. Okay. Calm down, what has gotten into you?”

“I’m just happy. Is that a crime?”

You tap your chin in mock ponderance, “I suppose not.”

Carlos closes the gap once more but this time instead of an onslaught of kisses he locks your lips with his in one long kiss. His hands haven’t moved from their spots on your cheeks this entire time. You can’t help yourself from grinning into the kiss, never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined this.

Carlos pulls away and when he sees the smile that graces your face can’t help but ask, “What has gotten into you?”

You giggle at his question and your reply is full of snark, “I’m just happy. Is that a crime?”

It is Carlos’s turn to break into a fit of giggles and you wish that you could listen to that sound forever. “Okay. Okay.” You try to break the laughing spell that has fallen between the both of you. “What’s in the bag?”

Carlos picks up the bag full of groceries and makes his way to the kitchen, “I’m glad you asked, it's all the ingredients I need to make my pancakes.”

“You were serious about cooking for me?”

“Of course I was, I want to spoil my girlfriend.”

“I will gladly be spoiled. Do you want any help?”

“No, you just sit and find a movie or a show to watch.”

“I got the only show I need right in front of me.” You wink.

Carlos laughs at your comment but doesn’t say anything else, too focused on making his pancakes. You have to help him a couple of times when he realizes he doesn’t exactly know the layout of where you keep all your mixing bowls, pans, and spatulas, amongst other things. But once he has all his materials you can almost see the switch flip to Chef Carlos. And while it is a bit shameful to admit, the sight does turn you on slightly. The way Carlos’s tongue slightly sticks out of his mouth in concentration. The way his arm flexes as he mixes the batter. Who would have thought that cooking would be so hot? Not you, that’s for sure.

Carlos spares a few glances in your direction and every time you need to make sure you aren’t drooling all over your counter. Your time of ogling Carlos is cut short when he slides the plate of pancakes in front of you.

“Any syrup or butter?” He asks.

You shake your head, “No, I want to experience the pancakes without any interference.” You pick up your fork and knife and cut right into them. Carlos does nothing but watch as you bring a piece up to your mouth and take a bit.

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding about knowing a pancake recipe,” you say with a full mouth.

“Good?”

“Good? Better than good, these are delicious,” you practically moan out.

“Almost as delicious as the chef,” Carlos says with a smirk. His comment has you choking on the rest of your pancake. Carlos is quick to rush to your side, gently smacking your back.

You hold up your hands signaling for him to stop, “I’m okay, I’m okay.” You take a sip of water, helping aid the rest of the pancake down. “You need to make these for me again. I don’t think I can ever go back to eating a normal pancake ever again. Not after tasting this slice of heaven.”

“You’ll never have to eat a sad pancake ever again as long as I’m around.”

“I want you around as long as you can stand me,” you tell Carlos truthfully.

“Good, because I never want to be without you.”

You can’t help but think the same, and it isn’t because of the pancakes.

February 2022

It’s a week before Valentine's Day when you answer a FaceTime call from Carlos.

“Did you see the car launch?” He asks.

You have given up trying to get him to say hello every time you answered the phone, he was always too eager to talk to you.

“I did. Looks beautiful, hopefully that corresponds to speed.”

“We can only hope. I didn’t call to talk about the car.”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me.”

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

“I am funny, you know this.”

Carlos ignores your quip and instead asks, “Valentine’s Day, do you feel okay going out?”

Ever since that night when Carlos showed up at your flat unannounced, he has been trying to communicate better. The two of you had your little inside dates- movie nights, cooking, board games, anything the two of you could do at home or over the phone you two have done. You had only gone out on a date once and that was over as quick as it started. Some fan spotted him and it was only a matter of time before his location was leaked. You didn’t want to hide your relationship but you also didn’t want it outed by some random F1 update page. You wanted to be the one who shared it with the world.

It took you a moment to think about it and you didn’t want to spend your first Valentine’s Day in your flat. “I would love to go out,” you tell Carlos honestly.

“Good, I made a reservation to this place I think you’ll love.”

You smile having the perfect idea of how to mess with him, “Well what if I said no?”

Carlos doesn’t seem at all phased, “Then I would’ve canceled the reservation.”

You can’t argue with that logic. “What’s the dress code? Because I take it you aren’t going to tell me where we are going.”

“You’ll be correct about that. Dress code,” Carlos pauses for a moment, “Wear something red.”

You roll your eyes, “You are only saying that because you like seeing me in red.”

“It is your color mi amor.”

“Oh so I look bad in all other colors,” you challenge.

“What has gotten into you today? So sassy.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it's because I miss you.”

“I’ll see you in less than a week, mi amor.”

“I know, I know.” You pick at your nails. “I don’t know why, I just miss you more than usual this week.”

“I miss you too,” Carlos admits.

You go to say something but you are interrupted by another voice. “Carlos, Carlos,” a familiar Monégasque driver calls out. “Who are you talking to?”

“My girlfriend,” Carlos replies nonchalantly.

“Ooohhh,” Charles calls out, and before Carlos can react Charles shoves his entire face in front

of the camera, your screen now filled with nothing but Charles.

There were only a handful of people who knew that you and Carlos were together, Charles being one of them. When Carlos left McLaren for Ferrari, he had spilled the beans to Charles and you had learned that Charles was the one who kept pushing Carlos to come see you. So saying you were thankful for the Monégasque driver was quite the understatement.

You giggle at his actions. “Hi, Charles. How are you?”

“I’m doing great, how about yourself?”

“Same old, same old.”

“What are you two talking about?”

“None of your business,” Carlos answers at the same time as you say, “Discussing Valentine’s Day plans.”

“Valentine’s Day plan? What are you two lovebirds doing?”

“Going out,” Carlos answers for you.

“Ooooohhhh can I come with?” Charles asks.

You snort at his question, “Don’t you have your own girlfriend to take out instead of third-wheeling on our night?”

Charles says nothing and just gives you a blank stare, “Fine, be that way.”

You roll your eyes at his childishness, “Don’t be such a baby.”

“You’re younger than me!”

“That makes it worse!” You exclaim.

“Charles, did you need something or did you only come in here to bother us?”

Carlos’s question seems to snap the other Ferrari driver back in focus, “Oh. Yes actually, we aren’t free from our media duties yet.”

“Let me say goodbye then I’ll be back out.”

Charles wishes you a quick goodbye and you are left alone with Carlos. “You have to go?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.”

“The life of a Formula 1 driver never stops.”

“You’d be right about that Hermosa.”

“I’ll let you go, call me if you get the chance.”

“Of course. I’ll see you soon mi amor, don’t miss me too much.”

“I’ll try.”

It’s a week later on Valentine’s Day, and you had spent the majority of the day getting ready for your first real date with Carlos. But along with the butterflies in your stomach, there was also this unwelcome feeling of sadness. At first, you couldn’t place what it was but then it hit you like a truck. Lando didn’t send you any chocolates. You knew that the chances of him sending them were slim but for some reason, it really stung. Every year he sent you a box of chocolates, no matter where in the world he was, no matter what he was busy doing. And every year there was a note “You’ll always have me and your shitty rom-coms”, well you at least you still had your shitty rom-coms. You were excited for your date but that gloomy feeling was hard to get rid of and you knew that Carlos was bound to notice.

“Wow,” is all that came out of Carlos’s mouth when you answered the door.

“I hope that’s a good wow,” you chuckle nervously. You had done what he asked, you were wearing red, more specifically the signature Ferrari red. While it wasn’t a hard color to match, you hoped that Carlos appreciated the sentiment.

“Of course, mi amor. You look… amazing.” You smile at his lack of words. You don’t need him to tell you anything, you could tell what he’s thinking from his gaze alone.

“Oh, these are for you,” Carlos hands you a bouquet of red roses and baby’s-breath along with a wrapped box of chocolates.

“Thank you Carlos, we can share the chocolates later tonight.” You tell him as you walk back into your flat. Carlos shuts the door behind him and follows you into the kitchen as you rummage around for your good vase.

“We’ll have to leave soon if we want to make the reservation,” Carlos says, checking his watch.

“Alrightly, just let me grab my shoes.” You walk into your bedroom to grab your shoes. On your way you stop in front of the mirror to check your hair and make-up one last time.

When you walk back out you notice Carlos staring at the pictures on your walls. As you move closer you can see the one in particular that he is staring at.

“That’s when Lando and I first declared each other as best friends.” You say with a sad smile. “I don’t really remember it but I do know that we were at my house and my mom snapped the picture.”

Carlos turned to face you but you continued to stare at the picture, jealous of how young and naive the two of you were back then.

Carlos called your name and you were quickly snapped out of memory lane. “Are you okay?” His question laced with concern.

You wave him off, “I’m fine.” Carlos gives you a look almost asking ‘are you sure’ and you are quick to spill your feelings of gloom. “I mean it’s silly and I knew what was going to happen.”

“Knew what was going to happen?”

“Every year Lando has either given or sent me a box of chocolates. At first I knew it was his mom forcing him to give them to me, but as we got older he knew that it was something that cheered me up, especially because I never got anything in school from the other boys. Then he would always include a note, ‘You’ll always have me and your shitty rom-coms’. Then I didn’t get anything this morning and I knew I wasn’t, but it makes it all more… I don’t know. Real? I guess? It’s stupid, I know I shouldn’t be complaining about not getting chocolates from another man when my insanely handsome boyfriend is standing next to me.”

“Mi amor, I didn’t know he did that. That was sweet of him and I am sorry that he can’t grow up and accept that he isn’t in control of you. Even if he was your best friend you deserve to be loved and not be shunned for doing so.”

You nod in agreement. Every time you feel at peace with the whole situation something like this happens and you are brought back to square one.

“Well let’s get going. I don’t want this ass-hat to ruin anything else for us. Especially not tonight.”

Carlos snorts at your insult and holds out his arm for you to take, you do so happily.

Carlos was nothing but a gentleman the entire time. He opened the car door for you, pulled out and pushed in your chair, and complimented you the entire evening. Sure these were all little things but they meant the world to you. The two of you were in your own little bubble the entire night, everything was so peaceful.

However, it wasn’t until you and Carlos got back to your flat that your little bubble of peace was popped. You were busy finishing your skincare routine when Carlos called out your name. You walked into the living room and were met with the most domestic sight: Carlos sitting on your couch in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt scrolling through his phone. The sight brought a smile to your lips.

“You called?” You asked, making your way over to the couch.

As you take a seat next to Carlos, he hands you his phone and you are greeted with the familiar sight of Twitter. It takes you a second to make out the picture, the two figures in it are quite blurry but as soon as you read the caption attached to it your smile drops into a frown.

‘New WAG alert? Carlos Sainz was seen looking comfortable with a mystery woman at a candle-lit dinner this Valentine’s Day. Will we be seeing more of her?

“Oh.” You aren’t surprised by the lack of privacy and you are well aware that this was bound to happen eventually, you just didn’t think that it would be the first time the two of you went out publicly.

Carlos raises an eyebrow, seeming to have expected more than a one-worded response to the tweet he just showed you and you can’t help but shrug your shoulders in response.

“You’re not upset,” he asks.

“I mean a little, but it's not like I can do anything about it. We knew the risks before we went out and we were willing to take them. Are you upset?”

“I am used to it,” Carlos admits, “It happens to me all the time, I just wished I was given the decency to go out with my girlfriend and have a nice private dinner.”

You cuddle up into Carlos’s side and he is quick to abandon his phone and wrap his arms around you. “I don’t want anything to spoil this evening,” you tell Carlos, “so as long as those are the only pictures out there let's ignore them for now.”

“I can do that. Now what movie do you want to watch?”

“How about 10 Things I Hate About You?”

March 2022

The beginning of the 2022 season was right around the corner and every time you and Carlos talked he was always trying to sneak in a comment about you coming to Bahrain. He thought he was being so subtle with his comments that the look on his face when you asked him if he wanted you to come with him was priceless.

“I thought I was being subtle.” You can hear his frown through the phone.

You try to contain your laughter but the task is easier said than done, “Baby, you were as subtle as a bull in a china shop.”

“But will you?”

Ever since he first started hinting around, you weighed the pros and cons. You loved watching the races, you would be able to spend time with Carlos, you would be exploring a new country. All of these things were nice, but when you thought about the cons, they paled in comparison. If you went to Bahrain then your relationship with Carlos was definitely going to become public knowledge, and while that wasn’t a bad thing you weren’t completely sure if you were ready for the entire world of fangirls to also be a part of your relationship. There was one other thing that was making you hesitate- the idea that you would probably run into Lando.

You couldn’t let that stop you though, so without putting any more negative thought into it, you told Carlos that you would love to go to Bahrain with him.

Walking through the paddock in Ferrari gear felt wrong but right at the same time. Carlos had insisted on providing you with all the possible merch you could imagine. The number 55 displayed proudly across your back, a Ferrari cap snug tightly around your head, a pair of Ferrari sunglasses Carlos had loaned you, and to your surprise a pair of Ferrari socks. You had nearly laughed when you took them out of your little handmade care package, you didn’t even know that Ferrari had socks it wasn’t like anyone was going to see them anyways.

You were hesitant to wear it at first. Most of the other WAGs never wore team gear and when they did it certainly wasn’t to this extent, however, Carlos had put your mind at ease. He did love seeing you in red.

You were well aware of all the cameras and more aware of all the people. Carlos had given you a clear set of directions on where to go and who to ask for so that you would be escorted to Ferrari hospitality without any complications. However, you had guessed Carlos had scrapped that plan and failed to tell you. Because standing right by the entrance to Ferrari hospitality was none other than Carlos himself.

“Find everything okay?” He asked as you reached him.

“I did, but this wasn’t a part of the plan.”

“Well, I had time and saw your message. I wanted to be the first to greet you.” He leans in and kisses your cheek.

“It’s a welcomed surprise.”

“Come,” Carlos grabs your hand and interlocks it with his, “I want to give you the grand tour.”

Carlos drags you around introducing you to everyone and you can’t help but feel extremely welcomed in your first -official- introduction into the world of Ferrari. Monaco might’ve been the first time but this experience was a much fonder one.

Carlos spends as much time as he can with you, doing his best to make sure you felt welcomed. Eventually, he is forced to do his job and you watch the free practice in the comfort of Ferrari hospitality.

Ever since Valentine’s Day you have avoided social media. Even when you were friends with Lando you never really interacted much with F1 Twitter and even less so now that the two of you weren’t talking. However, due to it being the beginning of the season F1 the sport was trending and out of pure boredom, you decided to brave the tweets. Most of them were predictions about the year, fans cheering on their faves, and even thirst tweets of seeing the drivers back in their cars once again. And who could forget the beloved gossip and update pages? Certainly not you, considering you were looking at your own face on one of the pages.

You weren’t foolish enough to think that you were going to go undetected with Carlos, you were fully expecting it. That however did not lower the shock of seeing yourself on one of these pages. The tweet itself didn’t have many likes or retweets but it wasn’t the only one out there talking about you. And it wasn’t before long until you saw one captioning ‘Carlos Sainz and Lando Norris’s BFF spotted together entering the Ferrari garage’ and below it was a picture of you and Carlos hand in hand. That wasn’t what made your stomach flip, it was what was underneath the photo. Speculation as to why you didn’t have your yearly appearance on Lando’s Instagram.

Of course they were right, there was no need to speculate when that is exactly the reason why, not that you were going to confirm their beliefs. You would have to tell Carlos about all of this on the way back to the hotel. No need to worry him when he should be focusing on the car and the season ahead of him.

The two of you are lying on the bed in your shared hotel room watching some random movie that just happened to be playing when you turned on the TV while waiting for room service. You were snuggled into Carlos’s side, your hand resting on his chest. Carlos has one arm under your head, the other is scrolling through his phone.

When you told him about what you saw on Twitter that afternoon he simply shrugged and said “Let them think whatever they want to think. It’s our relationship, not theirs. We don’t owe anyone anything.”

You still had your concerns that Lando might do something but Carlos insisted while he was dumb, he wasn’t that dumb. But if he was to open his big mouth McLaren and Ferrari’s PR team could handle it. This was nothing to worry about.

You’re half paying attention to the movie and half paying attention to the occasional funny tweet or whatever Carlos is showing you. A knock at the door causes you to shoot out of Carlos’s arms. “I’ll get it!” You call out to Carlos, excited to eat some real sustenance.

You don’t even bother looking through the peephole before whipping open the door, a rookie mistake. Because who stands in front of you is not the room service delivery person with their little cart, no, the person standing in front of you is your ex-best friend.

“Lando?” you ask in shock.

“So I see what’s going around Twitter is true then?”

You cross your arms over your chest, “Excuse you?”

“I just had to see it for myself,” Lando sneers.

Before you can respond Carlos comes up behind you. He’d gotten out of bed at the sound of

Lando’s voice. “What are you doing here?” Carlos questions.

“Oh I just saw some update and WAG pages saying that my best friend was spotted with no one other than the Carlos Sainz and I figured I would come see it with my own two eyes.”

“We aren’t best friends anymore. Remember you told me I was throwing 15 years of friendship away?” You snap back.

“You need to go,” Carlos gently guides you away from the door so that you are now standing behind him. You aren’t going to argue with that. All you wanted was to spend the night with your boyfriend eating room service while watching a crappy movie. You didn’t want to see Lando, let alone have this conversation.

“Is this room 512?” Of course, now the room service shows up.

“Yes,” Carlos answers. The gentleman looks between Carlos and Lando, “Don’t worry about him, he was just leaving.”

You peer around Carlos in time to see Lando stomp off down the hallway back to his own room. The room attendant drops the food off and leaves in a hurry, not that you blame him.

You make your way back to the bed and curl in on yourself, Carlos is quick to follow. “I’m not hungry anymore,” your voice is muffled by one of the pillows. You feel the side of the bed dip behind you as Carlos sits to comfort you.

“I can’t believe he showed up here. What is his problem? Do you want me to go talk to him?”

The idea of Carlos talking to Lando nearly makes you throw up. “No, don’t bother. It’s not worth it.”

“No,” Carlos says harshly, “He comes here, spews a bunch of bullshit and he thinks he can get away with it.” You roll yourself over so you can now look at Carlos. You’ve never seen him so mad, sure you saw him pissed off and frustrated at Monza a few years back but this, this was a whole different type of anger.

“Carlos, as much as I would love for you to give him a piece of your mind, it’s not going to do anything. To him we're the bad guys, no matter how we try to explain ourselves. I’ve made peace with the fact that this is who he is. I think as long as this stays between the three of us and off the track it's best that we just leave it.”

“That still doesn’t mean he can show up whenever he feels like it and start shit.”

“I know, but you’ve said it yourself- he’s childish.” You can see the fight and anger leave Carlos’s body. “Besides, I want all your focus to go into the race. I only kiss boyfriends who end up on the podium.”

“Is that so?” Carlos questions with a sly grin.

Well, it seemed that you owed Carlos a kiss. A Ferrari P1-P2 finish at the first race of the season was a sight to see. The entire garage was in a frenzy as all of them rushed to watch the podium ceremony. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do with yourself. You wanted to go watch the ceremony in person but you weren’t sure if that was acceptable, seeing as the rest of the team was more deserving and you were only, well, yourself.

“What are you doing? Let's go! Carlos will want to see you!” James, one of the mechanics that Carlos had introduced you to early in the weekend had seen you standing off to the side looking confused as to where you should go.

“Are you sure?” You asked as he weaved you around his co-workers.

“I’m sure of it! Besides, don’t you want to see your boyfriend up on the podium?”

You really did want to see Carlos on that podium and it definitely had nothing to do with seeing his skin shine with sweat and champagne, nothing at all.

The entire atmosphere was addicting- the fireworks, the roar of applause, the cheering from the team, it was all so addicting and the grin on Carlos’s face was worth being squished in between multiple sweaty bodies.

You could pinpoint the exact moment that Carlos saw you in the crowd and if you thought he was happy before you would consider him ecstatic. After the ceremony, Carlos was quick to make his way down to where you and the rest of his team stood.

Your congratulations died on your lips when Carlos crashed his into yours. Although surprised, you waste no time grabbing the nape of his neck and bringing him closer to you. His skin is sticky with sweat and champagne, not that you mind. His lips are sweet and you can’t help but savor the flavor.

He pulls away and you can’t help but ask, “What was that for?”

“You said you only give kisses to boyfriends who get podiums. I was just collecting my award.”

You roll your eyes, “I’ll kiss you no matter where you end up.”

“Good.” Is all he says before capturing your lips in another kiss. You were well aware of the cameras, the people and their cheers when Carlos kissed you. You could feel the heat rise into your cheeks but you didn’t care. How could you when you had Carlos kissing you? Tomorrow

might be a different story but for now, you were truly living in the moment.

Silverstone 2022

Nearly 4 months had passed since Carlos had kissed you after his podium finish in Bahrain. And it's been nearly 4 months since every social media platform of yours has blown up. It was almost scary how fast your follower count went up. You tried not to look at the comments but your curiosity had gotten to you. While the majority were sweet, there were always those who hated other people's happiness.

It really didn’t bother you, well most of the comments anyways. The ones that cut the deepest were the ones that asked about Lando- Where’s Lando? I wonder what Lando thinks about this? Oh, so you're the reason we don’t have Carlando anymore. She was only using Lando the entire time, I guess the friendship paid off.

Carlos had called you when first brought them up, that conversation was a rough one. He had suggested deleting social media for a time and you had argued back that they really didn’t bother you. You knew that Carlos was concerned for you, it was sweet. But like any 20-something-year old you were addicted to your phone and social media. Carlos had then suggested making a private account, something only your close friends and family could view, that way you could continue your life as an iPad kid.

Silverstone was the second race that you were able to attend of the season. Carlos understood that you couldn’t drop everything and travel the world with him, no matter how much the both of you wished you could. But it nearly broke your heart to tell him that you weren’t able to make it to the Spanish Grand Prix. He told you it was okay but you could still hear the sadness in his voice.

You always sent him a text after every race, no matter the result, and if the timezone allowed you would try and call him. So when your time off got approved for the entire week at Silverstone you couldn’t be happier.

So here you were, your third time at the Silverstone circuit, however, it was your first time being here and not being in the McLaren garage. You felt more comfortable in your Ferrari getup the second time around.

You had high hopes for Carlos during qualifying, the free practice sessions seemed promising. And your hopes were fulfilled when Carlos got pole position for the 2022 Silverstone Grand Prix.

Your emotions were amped up a hundred times the next day when the checkered flag was waved and Carlos crossed the finish line in P1. Emotions were high in the Ferrari garage and you weren’t excluded in feeling them. Carlos had just achieved his first-ever Formula 1 win at Silverstone. Everything seemed to move in a blur, you were whipped away to see Carlos. You didn’t care how sweaty he was, how his hair was sticking out in a hundred different directions, or the indents of his helmet on his cheeks. None of that mattered, all you cared about was Carlos. Celebrations didn’t cease after the podium ceremony. Of course, Carlos was whisked away for a few post-race interviews but everyone was preparing for the night ahead.

You don’t remember the name of the club that you were dragged to and frankly, it didn’t matter. The atmosphere was buzzing, the music was so loud you could feel it in your chest, and the floor was so sticky that you could feel your shoes almost slip off with every step. But you could barely think about any of that when Carlos’s hands were currently around your hips and the two of you were dancing, not very PG-ly, in the middle of the club.

Carlos was handsy when tipsy, you knew that much. His hands were constantly moving up and down your sides, to your hips, to your arms, and even to your neck every time he decided it was time for another kiss.

“Do you need another drink?” Carlos shouts over the music.

You glance down at the empty cup in your hand, “Yes please!”

Carlos grabs your hand and drags you away from the dance floor and towards the bar. You bump into a couple people and while it is bound to happen you can’t stop the quick ‘sorry’s’ that slip through your mouth. No one seems to pay any attention to you basically stepping on their toes, all too wasted to really care.

You stand next to Carlos as he tries to get the bartender's attention. You don’t mind waiting, it’s busy and the poor bartenders are slammed. However, you do mind when someone bumps into you so roughly that you are rammed into the bar counter.

“Sorry!” The person exclaims and you are quick to turn around to see who the hell just ran into you.

The universe must really have it out for you because the voice belonged to none other than Lando Norris, who else? The two of you lock eyes but say nothing. It’s only when Carlos turns around with your drink that Lando lets out a scoff.

“Congratulations Carlos,” Lando says. You don’t have to be a genius to tell that Lando isn’t being genuine.

“Thank you,” Carlos replies dryly.

“That was quite a performance at the podium ceremony,” Lando’s attention is now fully on you, “I never did quite take you for a slut but guess I was wrong.”

Your jaw drops and you are left speechless. Never in a million years did you think that the boy you grew up with would call you such a vile name. Tears well in your eyes, is this truly what he thinks of you?

Carlos slams the drinks on the counter and you can feel the anger roll off of him in waves. “What did you just say?” Carlos growls.

Lando looks taken aback by Carlos’s reaction and you can almost see a flicker of regret flash across his features, however, he doesn’t change his stance reply with a cold, “You heard me.”

“I have had it with your glorified temper tantrums. You need to grow up and get over yourself.” Carlos doesn’t allow Lando to get another word out, he grabs your hand and pulls you away from the bar.

Once the two of you are outside Carlos is pulling you into a tight hug. “Don’t listen to him. He’s drunk and an asshole.”

Carlos's words don’t do anything to stop the tears from falling. Sobs rack your body and Carlos can only hold you tighter. Rationally thinking, why did it matter what Lando thought? He wasn’t a part of your relationship. Emotionally thinking, on the other hand, Lando was your best friend for 15 years. The two of you went through almost every milestone together and yet he still called you a slut. It didn’t matter if he was drunk or not.

“Let's go back to the hotel,” Carlos says softly.

You can only nod. You can’t help but feel bad for Carlos, tonight was supposed to be his night. The two of you were supposed to celebrate his win but here you were crying and getting snot all over his shirt.

You had nearly passed out the moment you and Carlos got back to your shared hotel room. The excitement of the day along with the tears had proven all too much. Cuddled up next to Carlos you couldn’t help but feel the need to apologize.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing, Hermosa?”

“Tonight was supposed to be all about you. We were supposed to have a fun night celebrating and I ruined it.”

“No. The only person who ruined it was Lando. He had no right to say anything.”

“But-”

“I don’t want to hear you apologizing for something that wasn’t your fault. You did nothing.”

“But my reaction-”

“Was a normal reaction to the situation. If he ever says or does anything like that again I won’t hesitate to punch him.”

“Carlos!” you exclaim, “You can’t just do that.”

“Consequences be damned.”

“Carlos,” you say in a warning tone. He says nothing and you shake your head in annoyance.

“We can celebrate properly later, when do you need to be in Austria?”

“In three days, I think.”

“Oh, well when we go back to my flat we can do something before you leave?”

“Sounds perfect mi amor.” Carlos presses a kiss to your temple.

When you talked about celebrating with Carlos at your flat you meant maybe have a few drinks, go out for a nice dinner, or maybe even watch a movie. What you didn’t imagine was straddling Carlos on your couch.

One of your hands was wrapped around Carlos’s neck and the other was tangled in his hair as his lips left warm, wet kisses along your neck. His hands were spread across your back, holding you in place to make sure you didn’t fall backwards off the couch.

“Carlos,” you whine out. The slight scratch of his facial hair mixed with the feeling of his lips were driving you crazy. You were definitely going to need to use some concealer and foundation

on your neck when you got ready tomorrow morning.

Carlos, hearing your whine, had only responded with a “I know Hermosa.”

His hands then found their way to your waist and moved you off of his lap so that your back was now resting against the cushions while he hovered over you. His hands dance along the hem of your shirt and you savor the warmth of his palms.

Carlos nearly has your shirt off of your body when there is a knock at the door. The two of you look at the door and then back at each other and Carlos brings a finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet. You nod in understanding, hoping that whoever is at the door goes away soon.

The knocking continues and Carlos moves off of you and to the front door. You sigh and sit up, fixing your shirt in the process. You hope whoever is at the front door has a good enough reason for interrupting your and Carlos’s celebration.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You hear Carlos question whoever is at the door.

“Carlos,” you call out, getting up from the couch to make your way out of the living room to see what the commotion is. “Who’s at the door?”

You don’t need Carlos to answer the question because as soon as you are close enough you see a sheepish-looking Lando who is holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Lando, what are you doing here?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“I came to apologize for my behavior last night.”

Carlos scoffs, “Just last night? You should be apologizing for a lot more than that.”

Lando looks down defeatedly, “You’re right. I should have never acted the way I did. The truth is I was worried about losing my best friend. I’ve always cared about you and I always will care about you.”

It was your turn to scoff, “You didn’t seem to care about me that night in Monaco when you told me I was throwing away 15 years of friendship. You didn’t care when I pleaded with you to understand my feelings. You didn’t care when you basically told me to choose you or Carlos. You say you were worried about losing your ‘best friend,’ but if you were so worried, how come I couldn’t even get a response from you that morning I texted you apologizing for all of it?”

“But I’m here now.”

“That doesn’t matter. I don’t need a half-assed apology. Especially after that night in Bahrain and especially after what you called me last night.”

“What made you think that showing up here, unannounced, was going to do anything?” Carlos asks.

Lando now turns his attention to Carlos, “I wasn’t talking to you. I am here to apologize to her, not you. This isn’t any of your business.” Lando snaps.

Lando has always been a bit of an idiot and clearly, that hasn’t changed in the past year. You rub your eyes. You can feel the stress headache starting to form already.

“Not any of my business,” Carlos repeats, “Are you kidding me? You say it’s none of my business but I think calling my girlfriend a slut is my business. You might be too childish to see it but I care about her. I listen to her when she talks about you and your friendship, when she talks about how she has supported you for all these years, and when she misses you. I won’t have you messing around with her feelings.”

“Lando,” you say gently, “You will always have a special place in my heart. I just can’t get those nasty words that you told me out of my head. It’s one thing to call me a bad friend but calling me a slut? For what? Finding someone I care about, someone who makes me happy? I can’t accept your apology, at least not right now. Maybe someday we’ll be able to be friends again but I think it's time that we admit that we will never have what we once did.”

Lando looks as if he is about to cry and while you feel bad you have to maintain your stance. You can’t have someone like this in your life, it’ll only make it harder.

“I get it,” Lando says, “Just know that I truly am sorry for the way I’ve acted. I hope the two of you are happy, I mean it.”

“Thank you, Lando. I wish you the best."

Lando walks away, head hung in shame. Carlos closes the door softly and just like that the hope you held for you and Lando’s friendship dies out. Maybe it’s for the better, maybe one day the two of you can be friends again. But for now, you’ll focus on the present. You might’ve closed the door on Lando but you have never been happier opening the one for Carlos.

A/N: I just wanted to say again thank you so much for all the support on part one. I was not expecting this to become a 20k+ fic in it's entirety. I was also unsure the entire time whether or not to make Lando and the Reader friends again, so hopefully this is open ended enough for you to decide.

Also please don't forget to like, comment, or reblog. It seriously means the world to me <3

taglist- crossed out names mean I couldn't tag you!

@arieslost @darleneslane @khaylin27 @softieekayy @avengersheart @formula1mount @2pagenumb @sunny44 @sugarvibez @daniiworld @customsbyjcg-blog @tpwkstiles @nickxcorpse @it2002 @lewisroscoelove @hangmandruigandmav @nando55 @dakotaspidercry-blog @generousdreamerdream @arrow92olicity @brubyubi @justkalcpxia @slaygirlbossworld @homosexualjohnwayne @val-writes @seokjinkismet @dintriann @gonehopelessgirl @joejoebitch @fannylessfaye @louiselovekill @spiderscherry @megaimpaladestiel

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sugarcoatedstarkey · 7 months

Text

Artwork

Pairing- Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary - Rafe takes notice of tattoos on a girl.

Warnings- language, drinking, sexual intercourse, foreplay, scratching.

A/n- it’s been a while so please be kind, welcome to give constructive criticism but don’t be rude 💜🖤

It was the little tattoos she had scattered across her olive skin that first caught Rafe’s eyes. The art on her body sent shivers down his spine.

He’d never been one for tattoos, hadn’t ever really taken much notice if someone had or hadn’t any. But, this time he couldn't keep his eyes off the little drawings.

She had jet black hair that cascades over her shoulders, it had the softest of waves and stopped just below her shoulder blade. Her nails painted a deep red, the same color as her lips. Freckles that kissed the skin of her flawless face, scandalous brown eyes.

He had watched her on the odd occasion, sipping from the red solo cup, talking to her friends, swaying her hips to the music. He was working up the courage to talk to her, he was never one to feel nervous around women. But, with her it was a different story.

He couldn’t help the grunt that escaped his lips when John B strolled over to her, a cocky grin on his face as he handed her a bottle of tequila.

She accepted it with a smile and took a swig, for a split second her eyes landed on him. His throat closed in and the music around became silent.

But then her eyes were back on John B and rage filled his insides, the can in his hands was crushed within seconds.

“Bro, what’s wrong?” Topper questioned, taking the crushed can from him and replacing it with a new one.

Rafe didn’t need to respond as Topper caught on quickly when he looked over at the girl Rafe had been hooked on for the past 6 months, John B’s arm wrapped around her shoulder as they laughed.

“I got you” Topper states, he’s walking away before Rafe can ask what he meant. He watches his best friend walk over to John B, he whispers something in his ear and steps back.

“What did you just say bro?” John B yells, he puffs out his chest and clenches his fists at the side of his body. Topper pushes his fingers into John B’s shoulders and nudges him away, this only causes John B to fire up and before you know it they are throwing punches.

Rafe’s eyes move from the fight towards the girl, she looks frightened. Her feet carry her backwards and her friends grab at her, pulling her towards the exit.

Rafe knew this was his last chance, so he swallows the anxiety bubbling in his throat and strides towards her.

“Hey, let's get you away from here” he smiles, he presses the palm of his hand to her lower back and escorts her towards the empty kitchen.

He doesn’t miss the look she gives her friends and the wave of her hand in their direction. She smiles up at him as they come to a stop against the island bench, he smiles back.

“I’m Rafe” he offers, she smiles even brighter this time. Her teeth aren’t perfect, one tooth overlaps another but it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “Hi Rafe, I’m y/n”.

Her voice sends the blood rushing to his cock, moving his body so he’s hidden behind the bench. “Lovely to meet you y/n”.

“I’ve noticed you at a few other parties, you're not from around here though?” He questions, he occupies himself by pouring them both a drink. Vodka and cranberry, his favorite.

“I’m from Charleston, I come over here pretty much every weekend though. Better parties and people” she states, accepting the drink. She brings the rim of the cup to her painted lips and takes a sip.

“Yeah parties are pretty great over here, haven’t been to many in Charleston to compare though”.

She nods and takes another sip, for a moment they just stare at each other. The fighting in the other room had stopped and now the room just filled with the humming of the stereo bass.

“I’ve noticed you at a few parties too, each time I catch you staring I think you're going to speak to me, but you don’t. How come?” She questions, her fingers fiddle with her rings. Twisting them back and forth as she waits for his answer.

“You noticed. I was nervous, you were always with friends and you're so beautiful. I didn’t know how to introduce myself” he admits, he throws back the last of his drink. Hoping the alcohol would calm the nerves.

“Thank you, I too was nervous. I wanted to introduce myself a few times, a lot of girls spoke highly about you, I wasn’t sure if I was your type”.

“Oh your my type, your way better than any other girls on this island” he says, chewing on the inside of his mouth until he sees the corner of her lips curve into a bashful smile.

“Rafe”

“Yeah?”

“Can you kiss me?”

He grabs her by the waist and pulls her towards him, her hips pressed against the bench. One of his hands cradles her face while the other holds her hip tightly, his thumb caressing her lower lip and pulling her mouth apart.

“I’ve wanted to do this the moment I laid eyes on you” he whispers against her lips, he presses his to hers before she can speak.

It’s soft, there’s no movement. He pulls away, hunger overtakes her chocolate brown eyes and she grabs his face. Pulling him against her roughly and kissing him again, her tongue slips between his lips and they fight for dominance.

The air feels sticky, their breaths heavy and skin sweaty. Her fingers run through his hair, pulling every few seconds. His hands grip her waist and he lifts her to sit on the island, slotting himself between her parted thighs.

She wraps her legs around him, pressing her warm core against his jean clad cock. His hands run up and down her back, trying to pull her as close to him as possible.

“Take me to a room Rafe”

“Are you sure?”

“Take me to a room before I get naked in this room and let everyone see us fuck”

His hands grab her backside, pulling her away from the bench. He steps out of the kitchen, slipping behind the party and down towards the guest rooms of Toppers house.

“How do you know where to go?” She questions, her lips sucking and biting at his neck. “It’s my friend's house”.

She nods and grabs his face again, pressing her lips to his.

He steps into a room and locks the door behind them; switching on a floor lamp he takes her over towards the bed.

His chest feels tight as the nerves kick in, if he wasn’t holding her he knew his hands would be shaking. He had slept with girls before, kicked them out afterwards and never felt a thing.

But he knew the moment he laid eyes on her things would be different, he wouldn’t be able to kick her out afterwards. He wasn’t having sex with her just for his pleasure, he wanted to please her, wanted to watch the look of ecstasy on her face.

“Rafe” she whispered, her fingers unbuttoning her shirt slowly. The material began to pool away from her chest, exposing a dark green lace bra, the swell of her breasts had the saliva gathering in his mouth.

He hadn’t expected her to have tattoos on her breasts or even her ribs, the pictures painted on her olive skin had his dick throbbing for her.

“Fuck your beautiful” he whispered, her shirt now lay on the floor of the bedroom. She sat back on her elbows, legs spread just enough for him to kneel between.

She stared up at him through her thick lashes, her chest moved harshly as she too tried to calm her nerves.

“Can I touch you”

“Do whatever you want to me Rafe” she breathed, he leaned forward pressing his lips to her collarbone. Moving his way down her chest stopping to suck small bruises into her breast, his fingers pulling down the cups of her bra to expose her perky tits, her nipples hardened under his touch. His fingers massaged her breasts, as his mouth sucked on her right nipple.

Her breathing was staggered, her hips raised up to meet his for some sort of friction. His hand left her breast to push her hips back down on the bed, his lips moved down her body, licking and kissing each small tattoo on her stomach.

“Rafe”

He bummed against her ribs, her fingers once again began to unbutton her shorts. He pulled away to grab the back of his shirt, pulling it over his head and throwing it to the floor.

Her fingers left her pants to touch his abs, her eyes focused on his tensed stomached. “Beautiful” she whispered, her fingers dropped to his shorts.

He let her unzip them and he pulled away to push them down; leaving him in his boxers. She took the next step by pulling her shorts and panties away from her body, spreading her legs in front of him.

She was dripping, her cunt weeping for him to touch her. His cock twinged within his boxers, she nodded her head towards him. He wasted no time and pulled his boxers down, his cock sprang free and swayed in the air.

“Shit” she gulped, her legs closed as she pulled herself up slightly. Her hands reach for his cock, wrapping her fingers around the base.

His body shuddered under her touch, her delicate fingers worked themself against his shaft. Precum lubricated her finger tips, he pushed her back down, running his hands between her thighs. Her legs spread for him, once again exposing her wet cunt, she nodded her head before he could even ask if it was okay.

His fingers ran softly through her folders, gathering her arousal on his finger tips. Bringing it towards her clit, he massaged slowly, soft sighs left his lips.

Her head hit the pillow, eyes rolling back as two of his fingers pushed deep inside of her. His breath caught in his throat when her mouth opened and a gasp escaped. His thumb circled her clit, her juices soaked his fingers.

“I need you inside of me” she gripped his shoulders and shook him softly, he pulled her fingers away from her and pushed them into his mouth. His tongue tasting the bitterness of her arousal, goosebumps rose on his skin.

“Inside of me now!”

He moved his way above her, her legs pressed to the sides of his body. Her hips rose slightly to meet his cock, the tip of his head brushing her folds.

They stared at one another as he pushed past her folds and into her warm opening, his cock nudging it’s way through her soft, wet, sponge like walls.

“Oh god” she exclaimed, dragging her nails down his back. Her legs wrapped themselves around his body, her heel digging into his buttocks, nudging him deeper and deeper inside of her until she could feel him in her stomach.

“You feel so good, pretty girl” he groaned, rocking his hips back and forth. Her nails dug half crescent moons into his shoulders, “I like that” she hummed, her walls clenching around him.

“Like what?”

“Pretty girl”

“Good, because you are a pretty girl”

Her arms wrapped around his neck and she managed to switch them around, her body now above his, her hips rocking back and forth at an ungodly speed.

Her breasts bounced with each movement, her eyes closed tightly as she chased her high. His hand grabbed her breast, massaging it within his fingers tips, pinching and pulling at her nippled.

“Oh god, faster” she moaned, he began to move his hips to meet hers, pushing his cock deeper into her. She could feel him hitting her sweet spot, a feeling of delight ran through her, her clit rubbed against him as she rode him.

“Fuck, pretty girl. If you keep bouncing this hard I’m gonna cum before you” he groaned, reaching his hand between them to toy with her clit,

Stars began to form behind her eyelids, arousal soaked his cock and dripped down his balls. He gripped her hips and maneuvered them so they sat at the edge of the bed, his feet planted against the carpet. Her nippled between his teeth, they moved their hips in the sink.

This new position had him hitting her g spot at a better angle, she knew she was going to cum at any moment.

“Oh shit, Rafe I-” she cried, holding onto him as she came around his cock. Pressing her lips to his, she kissed him with force. Her vision blurred and legs shaking, he was close behind holding on until her second orgasm hit her at full force, she cried out in shock, he couldn’t hold on anymore and went to pull out.

“Don’t you dare” she cried, she clenched around him. Bouncing faster than before, her orgasm still rattled through her. “I’m on the pill”.

He let go instantly, his cum shooting deep within her. A low throating moan left him, his fingers digging into her thighs as she slowed down above him. Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead.

“You should have said hey sooner, we could have been doing this a lot” she joked, her walls clenched around his cock as it twitched inside of her.

“Round 2?”

Tags - @rafesthroatbaby @ijustwanttoreadlols @mountloverr @kkmstblog @pheonixssugarbaby @rafemotherfuckingcameron @lail1010 @s-we-e-t-t-ea @darleneslane @h34rtsformilli @subjecta13-thefangirl @starkey-zegras @definitelynotholly @renmpsworld @delicatepiratecloud @lydiasxxsworld @hdhdhsy @speedycomputerfury @beautifuldetectivedinosaur @voidcameron @hallecarey1 @tiacordelia02 @loverofdrewstarkey @bbycowboi @outerbankspov @teresalesbian @imnotapretzelsstuff @its-ria-07 @cameronmedia @drewstarkeysleftfoot @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade

#outerbanks smut #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey smut #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #outerbanks x Rafe #outer banks #outerbanks fanfiction #outerbanks fic

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promise-you-doie · 5 months

Note

i’m in love with the antinitonny, can you do long anton fic? 🥺

Memories | L. Anton

Summary: it's the last summer before you start college and you and you plan to make the most of it. Word count: 15k Pairing: Anton x Reader Genre: friends to lovers. Fluff. Angst. Suggestive. Warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of drugs and alcohol. maybe some cuss words, slow burn. (like extremely slow)

Youth. The stage of life where you're bound to make mistakes, and memories. You meet the people you’re gonna spend the rest of your life with, and learn valuable lessons to teach when you’re old and bound to a rocking chair.

Adults always tell you to enjoy your youth and for once you actually plan on listening to them.

“Eunseoks here.” you run down the stairs after seeing his car pull into the driveway from the window of your room. “He’s here.” you yell once again heading towards the kitchen where your mom is.

Before you could yell again, He and sungchan walk through the door pulling suitcases behind them. You quickly open the fridge and pretend as if you’re completely unaware of their presence.

“Are those my boys?” your mom asks while walking into the living room to greet them, welcoming them both with a nice warm hug. “Your sister is waiting for you in the kitchen.” you hear her say while eavesdropping on their conversation

“Doesn’t my little sister miss me?” He slightly yells as he walks into the kitchen where you are. It’s been almost 5 months since you last saw your older brother, so yes of course you miss him. Even if he was annoying and unfun to be around.

“Oh hey Eunseok, I didn’t know you were here.” You speak nonchalantly. “Really? I saw you peeking from the upstairs window.” He exposes you

“Uh…” You stumble to find anything to say.

“I see you still haven’t changed.” He laughs.

“Why would I change? It's only been five months.” You question while peeling the orange you pulled out of the fridge. “What have you been up to?” he asks as he takes the orange out of your hand to peel for you, because you had a habit of biting your nails so you could never tear the skin to even begin to strip the orange.

“Nothing really, I’ve just been worrying about starting college.” You sigh. “There’s nothing to worry about, You’re smart you’ll be fine. Just remember like I said, don’t fall-” “Fall into the wrong crowd and stay away from drugs.” You finish.

“See you got it.” He congratulates you by handing you back the now naked orange. Eunseok being your older brother, you always received life talks from him, even if you didn’t know what he was talking about. He took his role very seriously even though he was only 3 years older than you.

“Y/n, How are you?” Sungchan walks in thankfully to redirect the conversation from turning into another unwanted life lesson.

“Sungchan!” you gleam as you head over to him for a small hug. He was as much your friend as he was Eunseoks, the three of you grew up closely together so you could basically just consider him your other brother. “How come I don’t see your boyfriend running around here?” he asks suddenly.

“We aren’t dating, and I don’t know. I guess he’s busy today.” You shrug your shoulders. As if on cue you hear the doorbell ring and instinctively you know exactly who it is. “Y/N Anton is here.” You hear your mom yell from the living room. You find no use for either of the men in the kitchen anymore as you hurry towards the door to see your best friend of 6 years.

“Hey?” You greet him happily. “Is he here? Well I'm guessing he is. I see his car.” He says shyly

“Just come in dummy.” You roll your eyes and back up from the door so he can fully walk in. He slips his shoes off before he follows you to the kitchen. “Oh there he is.” eunseoks laughs deeply when he addresses Anton. “Hey, you’ve gotten taller?” Sungchan asks while inspecting him. “No.” Anton says, shaking his head. “Are you sure, I don’t remember you being taller than me?” Sungchan adds measuring himself against him.

“You ask this question every time you see him.” you laugh at sungchan, “That’s because he gets taller every time.” Sungchan argues back.

“Shouldn’t you know if he’s gotten taller? He’s your boyfriend.” he teases.

“We’re not dating,” You whine, but it’s not really convincing anyone.

“Yet.” He adds.

“Alright you two.” Eunseok jumps in before you could throw anything at him, like you always do whenever you start arguing with him. “Eunseok, do you know you’re the best brother in the world.” You smile sweetly at him, buttering him up with your fluttering eyelashes.

“What do you want?”

“The keys to your car.” You say without any spaces, still fluttering your eyelashes and holding your hands together. “Pretty pretty please.” You add hoping to persuade him. And you know you’ve done it because he rolls his eyes and pulls the keys out of pocket to dangle them on top of your palms that you have held out for him.

“No-”

“Texting and driving, yes I know.” You say before he tries and sneak in yet another unsolicited life lesson. “And-” “call you if anything happens.” You say in monotone looking off to the side. “Hmm, Maybe I shouldn’t give them to you.” he begins but you stop him to beg. “No please please, I’ll call you if anything happens and I’ll keep my eyes on the road, I won’t even blink.” You plead.

“Woah, but if you don’t blink your eyes will get dry and then yo-” “Shut up idiot.” You slap his arm and turn back to eunseok. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

“FIne.” he says before he places the keys into your hands. “I expect to see my car in one piece when I wake up in the morning.” “Yes sir.” You nod your head, before grabbing Antons arm and pulling him out of the door.

The two of you end up in a random parking lot staring up at the stars. It’s silent for the first few moments. The only thing playing is the slow music coming from inside the car. There’s not really anything to say, with you and Anton being friends for so long you found that the both of you already knew everything there was to know about each other.

So silences like this were comforting to you. Just being in each other's presence was enough for the both of you. “I love this song.” you say quietly.

“Are you scared?” He ask randomly completely catching you off guard,

“Scared of what?” You finally turn to him. “I don't know, we'll be starting college soon, and I know things are gonna change, I’m just worried we’re gonna grow apart.” He explains.

“We thought this same thing about highschool, and besides look at sungchan and eunseok. They’re still really close.” You say trying to calm his worries.

“But they’re both guys. What happens when we start dating people? And we don’t have time for each other.” He continues, “I don’t know, I’m probably just overthinking.”

“How about this,” You say sitting up to show that you were serious about what you were going to say next. “We make every second of this summer count, that way if college does draw us apart, We’ll still always have memories together.”

“Deal.” He says as he smiles and links his pinky with yours.

The best way to make memories is to try something you’ve never tried before, and something that neither you or Anton have ever tried was alcohol. So that seemed like the perfect place to start. Now there was a small dilemma with this, no one in your family were drinkers. So the chances of you getting access to alcohol was extremely slim.

Luckily you had a plan.

“Where are we supposed to get fake IDs from?” Anton asks when you explain to him how the both of you were going to sneak into a bar down in the city. “Where else?” You respond with a smirk that he finds both scary and intriguing.

“Oh hey sungchan.” You say casually as you waltz into the kitchen. “sup.” he bobs his head towards you.

“just out of peak curiosity, you wouldn’t know where to get an ID would you?”

“i might know someone, depending on who’s asking.” he cocks an eyebrow up to you.

“Anton and I just need one for this event that’s happening downtown. Do you think you can get it to us by next week?”

“I can get it to you by tomorrow.” he says

“But Eunseok can’t find out about this.” you make it clear. “Of course not, do you think I'm crazy?” he asks, which warrants you to give him a knowing look. Wondering why’d he’d even ask that question as he was promising to get fake IDs to two 19 year olds.

“Don’t answer that.”

“When are you gonna start packing up?” Anton asks, looking around at your overly decorated room. There isn’t one empty space on your wall yet you always find space to hang up another poster.

“I don’t know, I might just do what Eunseok did and leave all of this stuff here.”

“Are you sure you can live without your collection?” He asks, pointing to the books you started collecting in middle school and were still accumulating.

“No, those are coming with me.”

“You know, you’re gonna have to move this stuff out eventually right?”

“I know, I’m just not ready to see this room empty again.” You ponder while looking around the room. Something about it just gave you extreme nostalgia, this is where you grew up. This is where you had your first sleepover and where you went when you had your first “heartbreak.” (You sat in your room and cried for days because you didn’t get tickets to see your favorite band.)

So seeing your room empty would really make things reality for you. Things really are changing, time is passing you by and you’re getting older.

“Special delivery.” You don’t have to check to know exactly who’s standing on the other side of the door. Sungchan lets himself in, just as he always does. Butting into your room as if it was his own. “Look what I got?” he holds up a yellow envelope right in front of your eyes.

“What is it?” Anton asks, walking up next to you.

“It’s our ID’s” you answer

“Our fake ones?”

“Shh” you and sungchan both shush him at the same time, and you hurry to close the door before Eunseok could hear anything.

“show me the stuff.” you whisper when Sungchan pulls out the ID and shows it to the both of you.

“Rachel owens?” you ask, looking at your ID. “You can’t reveal your real name. Quickest way to get caught.” he explains

“Okay but I don't know how believable Brad Murray is.” Anton says, still looking at the hard plastic card. “what are they gonna do, tell you you’re wrong.” Sungchan responds

“I don’t know, this whole idea just seems wrong. Maybe we should just wait till we’re of age to drink.” Anton says and it causes you and Sungchan to burst out into a laugh.

“Wait till we’re of age?” you laugh, slapping sungchans arm “Who does this kid think he is?” Sungchan adds.

“Exactly that, a kid. We’re both kids, and we should just be kids.”

“Fine, I'll just go by myself then.” you throw your hands up and head downstairs with sungchan following you and leaving Anton alone.

“I’m gonna head out.” You say casually passing by your mom and brother.

“you’re leaving, and you didn’t ask for my car?” Eunseok asks

“I won’t need it tonight, I'm taking an uber.”

“an uber, where are you going?” Eunseok asks, stepping up to you. “we’re going to catch a movie, but it’s pretty long so we’ll probably be tired on the way back.” Anton answers for you, thankfully because you were going to just tell him that you were going grocery shopping.

“Oh, Anton's going with you? enjoy your movie then.” You see that Eunseok loosens up when he realizes that Anton's tagging along with you and it makes you question. “Wait why'd you do that?” you turn to Eunseok

“Do what?”

“how come you didn’t ask questions when Anton said he was coming with me?”

“Because I trust anton.”

“you don’t trust me?” You ask genuinely but Anton doesn’t let you stick around to find out the answer because he’s dragging you out of the door. “I don't think he trusts me.” you say again

“he doesn’t, no one does.” Anton states before turning around, closing the door.

“You don’t trust me?” You ask repeatedly, still confused.

“no, that’s why I'm not letting you go out alone.”

you would argue more about how trustworthy you were but you knew that everything you were planning to say would have just been a lie. So you just get in the uber next to Anton and keep your mouth closed the entire ride.

well for most of the ride. “So why don’t you trust me?” you ask when everyone’s dead silent. “We’re going to a bar with Fake IDs. and whose idea was this?” he states and it pretty much sums up everything for you

“That's fair.” you shake your head

“Why do I let you drag me into these kinds of things?” He looks out of the window and you turn to him. “You dragged yourself into this.”

“I miss when we used to stay up playing mario kart, now we’re sneaking out to bars.” He sighs dramatically

“We just played mario karts an hour ago.” you remind him

“and i wanna go back.”

“I didn't force you to come with me anton.”

“as the oldest of the two of us, it’s my duty to make sure that you’re safe.”

“you’re only older by a few weeks.” you say

“I still need to make sure you stay safe.”

“If I wanted a bodyguard I would’ve just invited eunseok.”

“Alright then, let’s call him up.” Anton says as he pulls out his phone to call your brother. Before he even unlocks it you feel your heart drop and you smack the phone out of his hand causing it to drop on the floor.

He looks at the phone then he looks at you. “Why would you do that?”

"If Eunseok finds out about this he’ll kill me. I’ll never be allowed to touch his car again, he’ll never shut up about it. he’ll make me show up to college wearing a shirt that says, “I’m an underage drinker.” he’ll ground me for years.”

“You should’ve thought about that before you decided to go out and get us fake IDs.” He snaps back while bending over to pick his phone up off the floor.

“I just want us to do something different and new. Before we lose each other forever.” You force your voice to get lower, knowing that he’ll feel bad and lay off your case.

“We won’t lose each other forever, we’ll always be friends.”

“But we won’t be best friends. We've always wanted to get drunk together, this might be the last time we ever get to do that.” You mumble while looking out the window for dramatic effect.

“We’ve never talked about getting drunk together.”

“But we’ve always thought about it.”

“I’ve always thought about playing mario karts for 24 hours straight.”

Hearing his response catches you off guard, you completely forget that you were trying to emotionally manipulate him out of snitching to Eunseok. He notices when you slowly turn your head and side eye him. “Mario Karts?”

“You know what, maybe it’s a good thing we aren’t gonna be friends for long.” You add before he can say anything.

“This is why your brother trusts me more than he trust you.” he spits back

“You think that’s a flex? it just makes you boring.”

“You think I’m boring?" He asks aggressively.

‘I do. We all do.”

“Who’s we?” he pipes up.

“Me, sungchan, the uber driver.” You suddenly point to the man who’s been minding his business throughout the whole ride.

“You think I’m boring?” Anton looks away from you and to the man. “I don’t know you, but you sound very unfun to be around.” The unnamed speaks calmly while keeping his eyes on the road.

“Unfun?” Anton asks again.

“That’s what he said.” you chuckle

“I’m not unfun!” He pouts, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed. You’re too amused to really argue back with him.

The rest of the car goes quiet yet again until Anton speaks up once more. “I hope you can hold your alcohol because I won't be carrying you back home.”

“I can hold my alcohol” you say confidently although you’re really unsure, since you’ve never had any alcoholic drinks.

The line to the club is just like you saw in the movies. It’s so long you think about just turning around and going back but Anton is still on his quest to prove just how fun he is, which is why he forces you to stand in the line with him. Until the both of you are face to face with a 7-foot-tall security guard who looks like he eats 5 dozen raw eggs and a horse for breakfast.

“IDs.” is all he says but it has your heart beating outside of your chest. Both of you are hesitant to pull out the fakes you have in your wallet. Yet, you still pull yours out first and show it to the man, Anton following your lead.

“This looks like a fake.” he says bluntly.

“A fake? ID? I didn’t even know those were real things.”

“Obviously they're not real, that’s the problem.” Anton begins to start yet another argument with you; however he’s quickly hushed when the security guard yells “Brad.” and Anton begins looking around trying to find out who he’s talking about. To which you just facepalm and whisper “He’s talking to you idiot.”

“Oh right, I’m Brad. Brad Murray, that’s me.” he straightens up.

It’s painfully obvious that the both of you are lying that you don’t even try to hide it anymore. With the security guard looking down at both of you, you’re sure he’s gonna turn you away but he just sighs and passes your IDs back.

“They don’t pay me enough for this.” he mumbles as he opens the rope to let you and Anton in. The music aggressively meets your ears before you even walk into the building. And you can smell the extreme scents of alcohol and whatever it is that people are doing inside of the place.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” stop in front of Anton, contemplating just going home. “Do you wanna go home?” He asks, and something about hearing him say makes you realize that’s not what you want to do. So you grab his hand and guide him all the way into the club where you could fully hear the music.

It’s so loud that you can feel it through your feet. There's so much going on you don’t even know where to start, and the flashing lights are starting to make you dizzy. But it all excites you, the music, the lights, the alcohol everything is so exciting to you.

“Let’s get drunk.” You yell to Anton first, but you don’t get a chance to go anywhere because he’s pulling you back by the hand that you still have intertwined with him. “Call me boring and unfun but I still don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Well then you don’t have to drink.” You state before attempting to walk away again but he just pulls you right back, not letting you step away. “I don’t want you to either.”

“Okay I won’t.”

“You promise?” he holds his pinky finger out to you, but you only stare at it. Pinky promises were very dear to the both of you, in the 6 years that you’ve been friends neither of you have ever broken a pinky promise. And You knew that if you made this promise, you very well didn’t have the intentions on keeping it.

“I promise.” You say looking off to the side, and failing to link pinkies with his.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by him as he nudges his finger out to you so you can solidify the promise. “Come one Anton, just this one time.” Staring at him until he finally gives in and sighs.

“Only one drink.’ He states firmly holding up his index finger to really drive his point. “Okay, fine. Only one.”

30 minutes had passed and you had drunk way more than the both of you agreed on, in fact you had sweet talked some random man at the bar into paying for your drinks. Completely missing the look that Anton gives you every time you take another sip.

Despite his annoyance with you, he still hasn’t let go of your hand. No matter how many times you tried to yank your hand away from him. Or tried talking and flirting with guys around you. He’d just pull you back towards him and claim you as his girlfriend so they wouldn’t try and take the initiative to flirt back.

“Isn’t this fun?” you slur resting your face against his back because you had lost your balance to stand up straight. “Are you having fun?” he asks, flipping the question back around on you.

“Mm hmm.” You bounce your head up and down. “Lots of fun.”

“How much have you had to drink?” He asks, already knowing the answer but wanting to make sure that you were keeping up with the amount of alcohol you were consuming. “I had umm 3.” you stumble in front of him and hold three fingers up with a big smile.

“No, you had this many.” He corrects while pulling up 7 more of your fingers.

“10?”

“It’s time to get you home.”

“I’m not ready to go home.” you state while trying to wobble away from him, when you do you walk face first into some random man's chest and giggle when you fall into his arms. “Hi, wow you’re tall.”

Anton thinks about just leaving you to face your own consequences but quickly changes his mind once he notices the strange man's hand placements and weird smile. There weren’t enough signs to show that he had bad intentions until he slipped his hands over your back jeans pockets and whispered something in your ear. That’s when Anton finally made the decision to jump in.

“Sorry about her, she’s really drunk right now.” Anton politely speaks while pulling one of your arms so you could go back towards him.

“She doesn’t seem too drunk.” The man says with his arm loosely around your waist.

“She’s 19.” Anton adds hoping that it’d be enough to pull the man off of you.

“Even better.”

He had to protect you, that’s what he kept telling himself the whole ride home. He did it to protect you, any other normal person would’ve also resorted to violence if their best friend was being inappropriately touched by a man almost twice her age.

He shouldn’t really feel bad, he knew you weren’t gonna remember anything when you woke up in the morning. You weren’t gonna remember how many drinks you had, or how you got home. And you definitely weren’t gonna remember how his knuckles got all bloody and bruised.

You turn onto your side and curve into a ball when he lays his blanket over top of you. It’s pretty dark but he can still make out small features of your face, and he can see when you open your eyes slightly to look at him.

“Go to sleep.” he says, but you just kinda smile.

“You’re really cute,” you say with a raspy voice, your eyes are too heavy to keep open but you try to do so anyways. Just so you can keep looking at the pretty soft spoken boy in front of you.

“I am so gonna make fun of you for this tomorrow.” He laughs but you don’t respond. You’ve already fallen back asleep and it doesn’t take too long for him to do the same, laying right beside you but leaving enough room in between the both of you.

When you wake up in the morning you feel an immense amount of pain coming from all over your body. You feel like you’ve been hit by a bus, or maybe even something bigger. A train. You don’t really have the strength to get up from your bed so you don’t even try. You just roll over and stare at the light blue painted walls.

It takes a good 2 minutes for you to realize that your walls aren’t blue, and that the large panda teddy bear sitting on your bed isn’t yours. In fact this bed isn’t yours either. This is when you finally gain enough strength to finally sit up, and look around. Seeing that this isn’t your room at all. Who’s room is it? You’re not sure. It looks very familiar like you should know but you really don’t.

In the time it takes to find out whose bed you're in, Anton walks in with a big warm bowl of your favorite oatmeal. “You’re awake.” He says when he sits down on the bed beside you.

“Unfortunately.” you take a breath of relief when you see his face.

“I made you oatmeal.” He places the bowl in front of you.

“Thanks.”

“Sorry I didn’t take you home, I figured you wouldn’t want your brother to see you drunk.”

“Was I that bad?” Your voice is still strained from the night before

“Yes.”

“Did I do anything weird?” you ask but you don’t know if you’re ready to hear the answer.

“You said I was cute.”

“You?”

“Trust me it was weird for both of us.” He lies.

“Let’s just pretend like last night never happened. I’m never touching an alcoholic beverage ever again.” You state while mixing up your oatmeal.

“Promise.” Anton asks with his pinky out towards you.

“I promise.” You make sure you seal the deal this time, looping your pinky around his and rocking your hand a little to show you were very serious.

“Good. cause it sucked having to carry you home.” He adds when you begin eating the oatmeal.

“You carried me?”

“Well how do you think you got here?” He questions, through his smile

“I’m still sobering up, my thinking skills aren’t up to date.”

“You know something, you’re actually kinda cute when you’re drunk.”

“Shut up.” you scream covering your ears so you don’t have to hear anything else he says.

You finally go back to your own home when the sun sets, that’s when you feel that you’re sober enough to face your brother without being suspicious. Although no matter how sober you are, you’re always gonna be suspicious around him.

“You’re back finally. How was the movie?” Eunseok greets you when you first walk in.

“Movie?” you question, so Anton answers for you.

“It was good for me atleast, but she fell asleep through most of it.”

“Oh, you guys went to a movie? That’s very romantic.” Sungchan asks as he walks into the living room stuffing his face with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Despite knowing that there wasn’t any movie.

Neither of you take the time to argue with him. But it doesn't stop him from continuing.

"Did you hold hands?"

“No!” you finally answer him, and you expect Anton to do the same but he only snickers behind you, leaving you to defend yourself.

“I'm glad you guys enjoyed your date, go start packing so we can head to dads old cabin” Eunseok casually jokes, and it almost irritates you

“It wasn't a date.” you stomp but it doesn’t help you at all because they all laugh when your voice squeaks.

“Is that why you’re wearing his shirt?” sungchan points out

you look down at the extremely oversized Harley davidson graphic tee that you have on. there isn’t even any explanation for this, sure you could tell them the truth. that you threw up all over your own clothes so he gave you his as a replacement. but it was probably best that you didn’t let your anger get the best of you this time.

So you proceed to change the subject instead. “We’re going to the cabin?”

“Yeah, we’re driving out there tonight. So hurry.” He rushes you.

The cabin belonged to your dad before he died, he liked it because it was hidden in the woods. Away from the city that your mom loved so much. It balanced perfectly because it was a 30 minute ride away from the house and he enjoyed a good drive.

He’d often go out there on the weekends with Eunseok and go fishing. While you stayed with your mom and visited the small boutiques nearby. That’s what influenced your father to leave the cabin to Eunseok seeing that he’d probably get more use out of it than you would.

The cabin was pretty outdated but it had enough room for the four of you to stay for a few nights. You weren’t too fond of the old place but what you did like was the lake in the back. You liked the way it mirrored the sky during sunrises. Or the way the moon reflected off the ripples of the water.

“okay so here are the rules.” Eunseok begins but he doesn’t get to finish because the rest of you are already grunting aloud.

“alright alright, I won’t go over the rules. because I assume all of us are adults and we would know how to behave ourselves.”

“Great, I'm sharing the room with Anton.” you call dibs by looping your arm around him and pulling him closer to you.

“you guys are never beating the dating allegations.” Sungchan mutters at how tightly you have your arm around Anton’s.

“You'll never kiss a girl in your life.” you spit at him

“At least my only love interest isn’t my best friend.” He gestures quotations around the word best friend.

“Okay okay.” Eunseok holds his hands out to stop an argument from growing. “It looks like we definitely need to go over the rules.”

“no need.” Anton speaks up. “we’ll be behaved.”

“Yes we will.” you add, resting your head on Anton’s shoulder to block out the faces that Sungchan makes to you from behind Eunseok.

“and you?” your brother turns to his friend.

“I'll be good.” He turns his attention away from you the second Eunseok looks at him.

“Alright, then we’ll call it a night.” Eunseok doesn’t expect for any of you to say anything else, so he walks away to his shared room with Sungchan and leaves you alone with Anton.

“We should go swimming.” you whisper when you’re sure Eunseok can’t hear you.``it’s 11 pm.” Anton tries to stop you.

“even better.”

“You can’t swim,” he tries again but it still doesn’t work.

he should’ve known better by now. This was the dynamic of your friendship. You'd come up with a crazy idea and he'd try to talk you out of it but fails every time.

You ease your way into the lake taking one step after another. The water is cold but the heat from the summer night helps your body adjust easily the more you walk in. Trying not to slip on the rocks until your body is completely submerged under water. your feet are still grounded so it helps keep your head at the water's surface.

“feels good.” you say looking up to Anton who isn’t convinced.

“If you drown, I'm not jumping in to save you.” he confirms with his arms crossed against his chest.

“I'm not gonna drown.” You continue swimming around

“good cause i’m not gonna save you.”

“You should get in.”

“It’s dark, there’s probably snakes in there,” It’s obvious that he wants to but he refuses. instead taking a seat on the dock where the little old is so that he could just watch you swim by yourself.

which you do for a while, pushing your arms around you to keep yourself afloat. There’s nobody to accompany the two of you other than the singing owls and blue white light of the moon.

“You’re so boring.”

“That's not gonna work this time, the last time you tried that trick I had to fight some guy.”

“you fought someone?” you ask trying to float back

“It wasn't a real fight, I just punched him a few times. I don’t really know if I could call it a fight because he didn’t hit back. well, he didn’t get the chance to.”

He begins to start mumbling to himself and misses the fact that you haven’t been responding. When he finally notices and looks up in your direction, all he can see is your hands waving in the air as if you need help.

but you always play stupid tricks like these so he just laughs at you, assuming that this was another one of your pranks. “I'm not falling for that.”

“you’re a bad actor.” he continues to laugh at how committed you seem to be to this bit. However after 12 seconds he observes that you’ve been underwater for some time. which starts to worry him.

“Y/n?” he calls out just once, and immediately jumps in when you don’t respond. Swimming right to you and picking you up in his arms so you can catch some air first. You have to cough the water out of your lungs before you could even get a breath of air. Chest heaving up and down and your eyes closed tightly shut as she swims you back to the dock and sits you down.

You’re still coughing when he pulls himself out of the lake to sit down besides you and make sure you’re okay. Which he had told you already that he wasn’t gonna do. And he doesn’t just stop there. He leaves you by yourself for a little bit but only to go get a few towels that he can wrap around you, and dry you off himself.

Almost drowning took a lot of your energy so you don’t do anything to help him help you, You just stare at him while he takes the towel to dry your hair. Neither one of you says anything for a while until he carries you back into the cabin and lays you down on your side of the bed.

“Now you’re gonna have dreams about drowning.” He laughs and sit up to dry himself off.

“I wasn’t drowning, I was just trying to do a cartwheel underwater.” you lie, leaned back against the pillow and watching him remove his extremely soaked shirt.

“Sure you were.”

“I really was.” you try to defend yourself again, but he still doesn’t believe you. There’s no use in acknowledging that he literally saved your life. Because even though you were very grateful you already knew he would, and also this was going to be something else that he’s never going to shut up about.

“What would you do without me?”

“You might’ve saved my life once...”

“twice.” he corrects

“don’t flatter yourself.” you smile, gently smacking his arm.

Anton wakes up in the morning to find that you’re sitting by the window, staring at the way the sunrise shines off the lake. Your chin is rested on your knees, which are pressed to your chest and chained together by your arms.

“You’re up early.’ Anton crawls to the part of the bed where you are and sits besides you. Close enough to where you can lay your head on his arm. “I love the sunsets up here.” You speak low enough for it to be classified as a whisper.

To which he hums to show that he acknowledged what you had said. But there is just something about sitting in silence with each other that the both of you love. Nothing has to be said and there aren’t even any thoughts. But just knowing that he’s there right next to you is more comforting than anything else in the world.

“Wait, did you really fight someone?” You question suddenly lifting your head from his arm.

“It’s no big deal.” He brushes off, however you don’t buy it as you angle your entire body towards him. “Anton, you could’ve died.”

“No, actually I- wait what are you trying to say?”

“You can’t fight, even I can pin you down.”

“That’s because I always let you win.”

“Sure.” you say rolling your eyes.

“I can prove it.” he stands up in front of you. As if he’s actually ready to start a wrestling match.

“There’s no-” You don’t get to say anything because he’s begun playfully attacking you. “You don’t have to prove anything.” you yell in your defense while still putting all your force into holding him down just as you always do.

Yet this time is different, and you realize that when he hovers over top of you with both of your arms pinned to the bed right above your head. You weakly try to pull yourself out but it doesn’t work. And then you make the mistake of looking up at him, your heart jumping when you do.

His face is unusually close to yours, so close that you stop breathing and you feel like you have nowhere else to look but at him. The both of you are too stunned to say anything at first, and when you finally take the initiative to speak first, it comes out almost in a whisper.

“Okay you win.”

“Yeah.” He says looking away from your eyes and down at your lips.

“So you can get off of me now.” You say once again trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the underlying urge to see if his lips feel as soft as they look.

“Yeah, sorry.” he mutters while rolling off of you and taking a seat besides you, neither of you say it but you both make a mental note to never speak of that interaction again.

“Are you hungry?” he asks while avoiding eye contact.

“A little, I’ll go see If Eunseok is awake.” You say quickly jumping off the bed and running towards the door.

It’s night two of three, when you walk into the room where Anton is seated on the bed trying to get through a 3 minute video, that seems longer because it won’t stop buffering every 10 seconds due to the very bad wifi connection.

You turn and lock the door behind you before getting Antons attention. “Wanna try this?” You ask, holding up the plate of brownies.

“A brownie? Sure.”

“No but it’s not any brownie, It’s a magical brownie.” you add, to make sure that he knew what he was getting himself into. “Magical? Like Jack's magical beans?” He asks while reaching for a brownie.

“No you idiot, they’re edibles.”

“Where’d you even get these from?” He asks.

“Sungchan gave them to me.” You answer while splitting the brownie and passing the smaller half to him.

“He said we shouldn’t eat the whole thing.” You add before taking a bite and watching him take his.

“But why would he give us four of them if we can’t eat the whole thing?” Anton asks

“Maybe I heard him wrong.” You think aloud.

By the time you finished eating all of the brownies you definitely felt the effects. Sitting legs crossed in front of Anton and just staring at him until you swore you could see his thought bubbles. “You know something…” You say leaning in closer to him, still analyzing the small features of his face.

“You have a really big nose.” You finish while tilting your head to the side.

“You have really pretty eyes.” He combats

“Okay.” You say ignoring his complement. Walking on your knees to sit directly on his lap.

“What are you doing?” He’s confused but his hands go directly to your waist to keep you bound. “Let’s have sex.” You say.

“What?”

“You don’t wanna go into college a virgin do you?” You try to convince him.

“I’m not a virgin.” He states questionably. So questionably that if you didn’t already know, you would’ve known from his tone alone that he was in fact a virgin.

“Yeah right.”

“I’m not.” He lies again.

“Shut up and kiss me.” You yell and he obeys, well partly. He only places a small kiss on your lips and finishes with a pat using the tips of his fingers.

“Wow?” you mutter

“I know, I’m a great kisser.” He boast on himself

“No, You suck.”

“Like you know? You’ve never kissed anyone.”

“No, but I know that’s not how you do it.” You say still sitting in his lap with your hands on each of his shoulders.

“Well you show me how it’s done.” just as fast as he finishes your lips are on his.

Giving him your first kiss and initiating a 30 minute make out session. Until you both fall asleep on the floor, with you wrapped in his arms.

Falling asleep in his arms wasn’t new. You’d done it plenty of times. however, in those many times, you were completely sober. So you never had to question whether or not you guys had sex.

You’re not naked, you know that much. so that must mean that nothing happened. but you very much remember telling him that you guys should have sex, and your last memory of the night was making out on the floor until you started to think that you might actually like him as more than a friend.

“we didn’t… do anything right?” you ask sitting up and looking back down at him.

“I don't remember.” he replies

“Neither do i.”

“The edibles aren’t supposed to plague or memory right?”

“I don't think so.”

and then it goes silent for a minute. right before the both of you start arguing.

“we had sex, oh my god i can’t believe i had sex with you.” you get up and start pacing

“Well you’re the one who came up with the idea.”

“I was high! plus you agreed. Why did you agree?”

“I was also high.”

“our friendship is ruined, we can’t ever speak to each other again.”

“Wait. really?” he pauses to look at you.

“don’t you understand what this means? we’ll fall in love with each other. it’s inevitable. there’s no solution.”

“We could just date.” he blurts out and stares at you as if he’s waiting for a legitimate answer.

“Why would we do that?” You say after staring at him in silence.

“doesn’t it just make sense?” he throws his hands up.

“no it doesn’t, we don’t like each other.”

“Well, what do you suggest?” He plops down on the bed.

“We should forget about it.”

To make matters worse, sungchan walks in right when you’ve started to calm yourself down about the idea of ruining your friendship.

“oh by the way i forgot to warn you guys, the brownies are high in… something that makes you horny. but you don’t have to worry about it, you guys are immune to that stuff.”

“yeah… we don’t have to worry about it.” You try to convince him but it doesn’t work.

“You had sex didn’t you?”

“no.” “yes.” you and Anton say at the exact same time, turning to look at each other before changing your answers.”yes.” “no”

“We don't know.” you answer solo this time. “I remember suggesting it and then we… I don't wanna talk about it.”

“Well, there’s only one thing left to do now.” Sungchan walks in fully and closes the door behind him. you don’t know what he’s about to say but you know it’s serious. “You have to date now.”

“That's what I was saying.” Anton says, throwing his arms up.

“No.” You turn and point your index finger to him and then back to Sungchan. “No.”

“No, we’ll just pretend like nothing happened, and Eunseok will never ever find out about this.”

Your plan to keep Eunseok from finding out wasn’t particularly solid. You walk out to the living space where he’s setting out the dishes for breakfast. He's not the best cook but it’s at least edible, sometimes. you’d usually tease him about it, but you’re caught completely off guard when he goes “there you guys are, I was worried something happened with all the noise you were making last night.”

“uh…” Anton stumbles across his words, he’s standing like a deer stuck in headlights.

“We were practicing, hand…stands.” You start to think of a lie to explain the noise he heard yesterday.

“Handstands?” Eunseok doesn’t even look at you.

“He doesn’t know how to do a handstand.” you say pointing to Anton.

“That’s a relief I thought you were doing something else.” He still isn’t facing you. But he knew the exact reaction he was gonna get from you.

“Something else?”

“He’s a boy, you’re a girl. You like boys, he likes girls.” He explains.

“We didn’t have sex.” You blurt out suspiciously

“I didn’t say you did.”

“But if we did.” Anton speaks up, despite the looks that you're shooting him from the corner of your eye to signal him to shut up.

“What would you suggest?” he continues

“Well then, you would just have to date.” Eunseok finally turns around to face you. Warranting your heart to drop to your stomach. You think you might just shit yourself right there. “But that’s just hypothetical of course.” he adds.

“We wouldn’t have to date. We could let it go and act like we never did it.”

“That wouldn’t work, the second you two even share a kiss you’re bound to fall in love.” Eunseok says.

That exact statement circulates your mind the entire day. You couldn’t fall in love with Anton, it just wouldn’t make sense. You don’t even see him that way, and you don’t imagine you ever will.

The rest of the day goes by and you’re still thinking about what may or may not have happened between you and your best friend last night. Keeping a safe distance just in case. Although it definitely seems to bother you more than it bothered him, because while you were still racking your brain of everything that happened the night prior, he’s just sitting in the corner of the room playing Mario karts.

“I think I just need to sleep.” You say heading towards the bed.

“I think that’s a good idea, I'm getting tired too.” he gets up to stretch before walking to the bed behind you.

“what are you doing?” you stop to ask

“I'm going to bed.” He says casually, staring at you as if he truly couldn’t understand why you’d be so hostile about him sleeping in the same bed as you.

“We can't sleep in the same bed.” You shake your head

“Why not? We sleep together all the time.”

“Don’t! say that.” you shush him with your index finger. “Okay, you take the bed, and I'll go take the couch.”

“The bed is big enough for both of us.” He looks at you when you walk closer towards the door.

“Why are you making this so hard?” You facepalm

“I'm just trying to get some sleep, you’re the one making this hard.”

You take a deep breath before speaking again, whispering as if someone could hear you through the walls. "What if we… again.”

“if we?” He asks

“You know, what if we..” you hold your hands up to make sexual gestures just so he’d understand what you were finally getting to. Yet he’s still staring at you like he just doesn't get it.

“What if we have sex again Anton, what if we have sex.” you finally just say throwing your arms down in frustration.

And you bicker for a good 15 more minutes until you finally cave in and just take the bed. His winning argument being that it’s hard for him to sleep alone since he didn’t have his stuffed panda with him. To which you replied, “You should’ve grown out of that phase years ago.” While still stuffing yourself under the sheets besides him.

September 6th 2015, is the exact date you met Anton. You remember because you still have the initial test that you copied off of him. It was the first time you’d ever made a perfect score on a test, and while you were proud of yourself your mom grew very suspicious.

You knew him before then, but you never thought to speak to him until he caught you cheating off his paper and threatened to tell the teacher. Leaving you with no other choice but to bribe him with dinosaur chicken nuggets. Which honesty was a win for you because your mom loved to pack them for you for lunch and you just didn’t have the heart to tell her that you hated them.

Since then, the two of you were attached at the hip, navigating both middle school and high school together.

You liked to remind yourself of that often, it made you feel better about the rest of life. Because you were soon to be an adult and it was horrifying to you. Even though you had your mom, your brother and Sungchan. It’s just reassuring to know that you had Anton, who was equally as scared as you were.

Listening to music through your black headphones, you sat in your room. The one place in the whole world where you could truly feel at ease. Where your walls are plastered with posters and your bed is never made. You were lucky to spend less than 5 minutes searching for anything within the 4 corners of your own space. But you loved it nonetheless.

You tried to listen to anything that would take your mind off of the event that happened over the weekend, however you were shit out of luck because every song on your playlist either talked about kissing or directly described the friends to lover's pipeline.

Throwing your headphones off, you huff and throw yourself back to stare at the ceiling. Dragging both of your hands down your face. Your friendship with Anton was easily one of the best things you had in your life and you were actively ruining it.

This is actually extremely stressful.

Usually when things got this stressful, you’d go to your loyal confidant, but since you couldn’t go to him you go to the internet instead. crawling towards your laptop to look up advice from others who had gone too far with their best friend.

There were over 7,340,000 results, in which you had rapidly read through at least a hundred of them. There’s all different answers ranging from “there’s no way to mend the friendship.” to “the awkward sexual makes it too hard to bear, the only solution is to cut them off.” Each website you click on makes your gut feel like it’s turning inside out.

The thought of having to lose Anton as a friend makes your heart feel like it’s getting stomped on by a 10 foot giant. Your eyes are flooding with tears thinking about the small irrevocable mistake that the both of you shared when you weren’t in the right state of mind.

Until you click on one last link that catches your attention.

“Just continue seeing each other as friends, overtime it’ll sort itself out.”

Just seeing the words on your screen alone is enough to feel like a nice warm hug. Drying your eyes and reading the message over until you finally start to believe that everything is actually gonna be okay.

You get up off your bed when someone gently knocks at your door, you know who it is because it’s the only person who ever knew to knock.

“Come in.” You try to mask the sorrow in your voice, and it works just barely enough for Eunseok to not catch on.

“Hey, just wondering if you're gonna come down for dinner.” He says only peeking through the doorway. “Yeah, I’ll be down there soon.” You begin to start looking around your bed for absolutely nothing, just so he couldn’t see how red and puffy your eyes were while crying.

“Okay, don’t be long. Also, Antons's downstairs waiting for you.” He adds.

“Antons here.” You quickly turn around to face him, no longer caring if he could tell that you had been sobbing just a few minutes before. Something about just hearing his name causes your heart to beat faster and your lips to turn up into a smile.

“Oh wait, he's right here.” Eunseok says backing up so your closest friend could walk in behind him. He could immediately tell you had been crying, you knew he could. Because his soft smile drops into an expression of empathy, but not yet saying anything until he knew that you had the room to yourselves.

“I’ll leave you guys, but don’t forget to come eat dinner with us.” He says once more before he closes the door. Giving you the privacy Anton’s been waiting for.

“Were you crying?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“No.” You lie.

“I didn’t mean to bother you, I got a little nervous when you hadn’t texted me at all-.” He stops his rambling when you take a seat on your bed and look up at him. He thinks you’re about to cry again but you're just happy to see that nothing has changed between the both of you.

“I was just scared that we were gonna lose our friendship.” You mumble just a little.

“We’ve gone through worse, like the time that I pretended to forget your birthday and you stopped talking to me for a whole month.” he kneels in front of you so you don’t have to look up at him.

The memory makes you laugh a little. Remembering how upset you were, and how he baked you a homemade cake just to get you to forgive him.

“Could you just promise me that no matter what we’ll always be friends.” You ask, your voice still a little shaky from your crying session. Pinky held out towards him because you know that under no circumstance will the promise be broken.

“I promise that we’ll be best friends forever.” He links his pinky onto yours, but it doesn’t last for long because you’re already throwing your arms around him to engulf him in a big hug.

topping him over a little as he softly laughs.

“But, we should probably lay off the edibles and do something normal.” He waits until you’re pulled away from and seated back onto your bed. “like a movie.” he suggests

“deal,” You nod.

If it were anyone else, this would be considered a date. It had the same feel as a date, you’re sitting in your room trying to find an appropriate outfit and fix your hair. When Sungchan yells from downstairs. “Y/n your boyfriends here.” Causing you to glance in the mirror once more before you run down the stairs to meet him.

Neither of you care to argue with Sungchan, only paying attention to each other. “You look really pretty.” Anton speaks first, looking down at you. “Thanks.” you smile at him, but the smile doesn’t do justice to the fluttering butterflies that you feel in your stomach.

“Here’s the keys.” Eunseok places them into your hand without you even having to ask. “Really.” you tame yourself from jumping up and down.

“Don’t be out too late, and don’t crash my car.” He states, pointing his index finger at you.

“We won’t.” You head to the front door, when Sungchan yells one last time. “Enjoy your date.”

“What movie are we going to see by the way?” You ask only once you get into the car.

“You’ll see.” is all he says, and it makes you beg him for more information. “Could you atleast give me a hint.”

“It’s over an hour long.”

“Oh, thanks Anton, that helps.” You sarcastically say, while starting the car. “I think you’ll like it.” He says last.

Anton’s checking in the movie’s ticket while you’re sitting in the back just watching him, there’s no one else in the main area besides the employees, Anton, you and the stranger that walks up from behind you and compliments the shirt that you're wearing.

“Are you waiting for someone?” The man asks

“Yeah, I’m here with my friend.” You point towards Anton who’s staring intently at your interaction with the man in front of you. “He’s getting our tickets.” you add before turning your attention back to the stranger. “Are you single? By chance?” He asks suddenly but it flatters you.

The boy is smaller than what you’d describe as your type, but he’s cute and he looks very friendly. He has hair that you think you could spend hours playing in, and it’d be nice to get an actual boyfriend so Sungchan and Eunseok didn’t tease you about Anton.

“Yeah, I am.” You smile up at him as you stand up. “My name is Y/n.” You add, holding your hand out for him to shake. “My name is Sohee.” He’s about to connect hands with yours but Anton does it first as he stands besides you. Towering over both of you.

“We have to hurry and catch the movie.” He speaks only to you first, until you look at Sohee and back at him.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t see you here.” He lies.

“I don’t wanna hold you up.” Sohee says, particularly paying attention to the way Anton gently and subtly interlocks his fingers with yours. “Sorry about that.” You apologize sincerely.

“It’s no problem, I hope you enjoy the movie.” He says last before Antons dragging you off.

“Who was that?” he asks as you go down the hallway to find out which movie room was showing the movie that you intended to see. “He said his name was Sohee, I thought he had really nice hair.” You look up at Anton.

“I also have nice hair.” He whines.

“No, I mean his hair looks so soft.”

“And mine doesn’t.” He turns to look down at you.

“This isn’t about you.” You giggle. It takes for the both of you to walk into the movie room together for you to realize that he still hadn’t told you what movie you were gonna be watching. You don’t ask now, because you figure that you’ll just find out when it starts playing.

However, once you take your seat right besides your best friend all the way in the back. You miss the title of the movie because you’re too fixated on the fact he hadn’t let go of your hand since he grabbed it earlier. Watching the way he mindlessly rubs his thumb in slow and gentle circles around the back of your hand.

You’d pull away and scold him, but it actually felt nice. So you just rest your head on his arm and continue to watch the rest of the movie.

It was easy forgetting about the 11 pm fiasco in the cabin. You guess Anton was right, your friendship has seen worse. And now you feel kinda silly remembering how you cried thinking about the ending of your friendship.

If that was even possible, because as long as you’ve known Anton you knew there wasn’t anything that he wouldn’t do just to talk to you. Even now when he snuck himself into your room, for nothing else but to show you the memory box that he found buried deep beneath his bed.

Neither of you remember when you started making it, but both of you were glad to have it. The box was filled with random inanimate objects that actually helped to build the friendship that you have now. Things ranging from the test that brought you together in the first place.

To the small purple transparent lighter that you intended to use as a prop for your magic trick. But actually, almost became an accessory to arson. You were trying to recreate one of those fire throwing acts that you saw on tv however you got a little too carried away and set one of the towels on fire in your bathroom.

In Anton’s defense he told you over and over again that you shouldn’t do it. In your defense? You didn’t have one.

The box is filled with not only random memory sakes, but also tons of pictures of the two of you from when you got your first polaroid for christmas.

The first one you come across is a picture that Eunseok took of you and Anton in your Halloween costumes.

You’d spent months convincing Anton to go with you as Jack Skellington and Sally because of your small obsession with Tim Burton at the time.

He agreed but it wasn’t at all an easy task. And you didn’t even know he would agree until he showed up to your front door with face paint and a very unamused frown. It didn’t phase you at all though because you jumped up and down while giggling and clapping, completely missing the small growing smile that he was gaining just from knowing that you were happy and he was the cause of it.

“Aren’t Jack and Sally a couple?” Sungchan questions when you hand Eunseok your polaroid and ask him to take a picture of you.

“Duh.” you say oblivious to the point he’s trying to make.

“So if you’re Jack and you’re sally…” he points to you as he says “Doesn't that make you a couple.” He finishes with a grin. “No, it’s a costume you idiot.” You yell at him, reaching for your shoe to throw at him.

You’re ready to fight but Anton only looks down at you and smiles at how easily angry you got. And that’s exactly when Eunseok takes the picture.

Anton watches your subtle smile as you flip through each of the polaroids, he begins to mirror your smile when you look up at him and giggle softly. “Oh look at this one.” You hold one of the pictures just inches away from his eyes where he could barely see.

Rather than just taking the photograph out of your hand to see it better, he wraps his hand around your wrist and backs it up to a better angle. The gesture is very simple but you don’t fail to notice that he’s rubbing the tip of his thumb back and forth over your skin.

“I remember this.” he laughs, looking at the photo. You feel a bit of coolness fall over you when he lets go of your arm to look through the rest of the box. Which you think to do after staring at him for 5 seconds too long. Flipping though the rest of the polaroids in your hand, when you come across another picture.

This one isn’t from your camera. It’s a picture your mom took of you when you invited him over to the house for the first time. She was so happy that you had finally made a friend, she didn’t even care that she was actively embarrassing you. Sneaking pictures, and watching behind walls whenever you had finally built some gut to actually talk to him.

It was so long ago, and you were so young. It’s fun to think about now, but it’s even better to think about how long you’ve known him.

“Isn’t it crazy that we’ve been friends for so long and neither of us has a crush on eachother.” You ask, still looking down at the picture.

“Yeah.” He laughs

When you look up you see your best friend, the one person outside of your family that stuck with you through thick and thin. Who held you every time you cried and dried your tears to tell you that everything was going to be alright. Who, no matter what, never made you feel like a burden or like you were too much. Who made it obvious over and over again that they’d do anything to keep you happy.

You see Lee Anton.

He’s meant to be in your life, you’re very sure of it. Because no one understood you like he did, and no one ever will as long as he’s alive. No one defended you like he did, and you don’t care to learn if anyone else might.

But as time went on, the lines started to blur. Because you want to kiss him now, and you’re not sure if you want to do it as his best friend or something more. Gradually leaning in closer to him until your lips just barely touch.

He takes the initiative to go all the way. Furthering the kiss, you have to grab onto his shoulders to keep yourself stable.

You can’t explain it but this just feels right, or better yet, it definitely didn’t feel wrong.

Your eyes are still closed when you pull away, but the instant you open them he mutters. “I love you.” Causing you to get up and jump away from him as if he was infected with a contagious deadly disease.

“You ruined it.” You yell at him, loud enough for him to know how startled you are but not enough for anyone outside of the room to hear.

“I’m sorry!” he pleads. Within a few seconds he’s standing over you so you have to look up at him. For as long as you knew him he’d always been taller than you, it was so obvious that everyone else pointed out the extreme height difference. Well, everyone but you.

“Why would you say that?” You throw your arms down.

“I don’t know, it just came out.”

“You don’t mean it, do you?” You ask, but this time you aren’t yelling and your voice is calmer.

“Of course, I mean it. We’ve been friends for years and I love you.”

“Stop saying that!”

“Do you love me?” His voice is softer than usual and you hate it, there’s just no way you could give him any other answer outside of the one he’s asking to hear. Yet and still you can’t give him anything because you’re not even sure yourself.

“Do you?” he asks again, breaking the long period of silence.

“Could you just kiss me again?” You ask, and he listens. Just as he always does because you’re his best friend and all he wants is to make you happy.

The question never quite left your mind. "Did you love him?” No. “Do you love him?" The obvious answer is yes. It'd be impossible to not love someone that you've been close friends with for just a little less than half your life. Someone that knew almost everything about you.

But this was a more complicated question. Because you know he wasn't asking if you love him as a best friend, and that wasn't an answer you were ready to find out. If you loved him any differently than a friend, then it would change everything.

That's what you're afraid of.

Although, it's a little too late to be scared for the friendship if you're even questioning it in the first place.

It’s been two days since that night, but neither of you had the balls to bring it up again. Seems as if you were getting better at pretending things never happened. You could try and say that things hadn’t changed at all, but that’d be a lie.

Usually you liked the comfort of your own room, but the more you spent in there alone the more you felt that the silence was getting too loud for your own good, and the very last thing you needed right now was to be alone in your thoughts.

So for once you decided to sit in the living room and enjoy the presence of your brother and his best friend. Sitting further away from both of them on the sofa with your legs pressed up against your chest. There weren’t any intentions of interacting with either of them, you just needed to get around somewhere that wasn’t ear ringing quiet.

But every part of you wishes you would’ve just stayed in your room, when you become the topic of discussion.

“Are you texting your boyfriend?” Sungchan teases per usual.

“No.” Is all you say, hoping that if you don’t give him the attention he wants, he’ll leave you alone. He doesn’t but what were you expecting, he was like your annoying brother after all. “You didn’t deny that he was your boyfriend.”

“He isn’t.” You mumble, still not looking up from your phone.

“Is something wrong?” Eunseok asks, and you can easily tell that he’s really concerned. But you just cannot force yourself to tell him that something is bothering you because you know he’ll wanna help. And this just wasn’t a matter that you needed nor wanted him to help you with.

“No, just kinda tired.” You begin to say but sungchan talks over you and asks a question that makes your heart drop.

“Is this about the kiss with Anton?” He pipes up randomly.

“You kissed?” Eunseok takes turns questioning you, and just when you’re about to answer him Sungchan once again speaks over you. “Yeah, but they were both high so it doesn’t really count.”

“High?” This time he’s jumping out of his seat.

By now your heart is beating loud enough to hear, there’s no way to talk yourself out of this so you don’t even try. Only preparing yourself for what’s to come.

“You were high?”

“Before you start, just know that I’m sorry and I already made the decision to never do it again.”

“Wait, don't be too hard on her, I’m the one who gave them the brownies.” Sungchan butts in an attempt to protect you. “I’ll deal with you later.” Your brother points to him, and turns his attention back on you.

“Why did you do it in the first place? I told you to stay away from drugs.” He begins raising his voice at you. That might have been when you started crying, you think. But it’s still unclear, because all you could think about was how shitty you felt to have disappointed him.

“This isn’t a game Y/n that stuff is bad, what will you do when you get to College and everyone around you is doing it? Are you gonna do it too?” He continues to shout,

“No, I told you I wasn’t ever gonna touch it again.” You cry,

“How am I supposed to believe that? You’re not giving me any reason to trust you.”

The words he spit out of his mouth were like small but extremely sharp swords. Piercing into your heart all at once, you don’t even have the strength in your voice to speak anymore, so your next sentence comes out shaky and a little squeaky. “Did you ever trust me?”

“Why would I?” That’s the very last sword to impale your beating muscle, you can imagine that air was just ripped out of your lungs. Leaving you to suffocate alone. If there was one thing you hated in the whole world it was being scolded by your older brother.

Simply because you weren’t used to getting yelled at by anyone else. Your mom was always very soft spoken, and your dad died before you ever got the chance to really disappoint him. So that left Eunseok, he didn’t shout at you often. But when he did, it hurt.

Anton’s the one person you went to every time you felt like this, so it was a no brainer that that’s where you’d end up now.

When you knock on his door still in your pajamas and cheeks stained with tears, he doesn’t even question you. Only holding his arms out for you to claim your spot close to his chest so he could embrace you with the warm and endearing hug that you needed most.

“He’s just looking out for you.” He speaks tenderly, once you finally calmed yourself down enough to explain everything. You always liked how soft his voice was, it was the very thing that made you wanna befriend him in the first place. Even though you made fun of him for it all the time, it was times like these when you really appreciated it.

“I just hate that I disappointed him, now he’ll never trust me.” You continue to sob into his chest.

He lets you cry for another 40 minutes until you fall asleep with your face flat against his chest. Your cheeks are still damp and a bit puffy but even now he finds himself struggling to pull his eyes away from you.

Unfortunately he’s forced to when there’s a knock at the front door, and Anton has to slide himself from under you so you don’t wake up. He knows exactly who’s on the other side of the door but he opens it anyway.

“Is Y/n here?” eunseok asks, already knowing the answer. You wouldn’t go anywhere else.

“No. why, did something happen?” Anton masks his lies with faux concern. “We just got into an argument kind of. I just wanna make sure she’s okay.” Eunseok continues.

Anton looks back at your sleeping figure and faces Eunseok. Feeling no need to hold up the lie he says, “Yeah, she’s fine.”

“Thank you… for taking care of her.”

“Of course.”

Anton closes the door when Eunseok walks away. He watches you for some short moments before leaving to go find a blanket to drape over you just in case you were feeling chilly in your sleep. And sitting on the couch beside you so you didn’t have to be alone.

Anyone with a sibling would know that arguments don’t last for long. But this one did, you knew what you did was wrong but you also don’t want to apologize. So you just pretend like he doesn’t exist for the following week.

He tried nonstop for the first two days but gave up after you just stared directly in his face without a word when he offered you the keys to his car, and unlimited access for the rest of the summer.

“What do you wanna watch?” Anton asks with one hand navigating the laptop and the other playing through your hair. Your body is pressed close against his, so much so you can hear his heartbeat. And he can feel the vibrations of your voice when you hum “I don’t know, you can choose.”

“How about a cartoon?” He scrolls his pointer down to Tom and jerry.

“Not that one.” You mutter when it begins to play.

“Okay, what about the incredibles?” He asks

“I don’t like the incredibles.” you speak into his chest.

“Mickey mouse?”

“We’re not children, Anton.”

“Well, what do you wanna watch?” he shifts his body to look down at you, his frustration growing when you look back up at him. “I don’t know, but I don’t wanna watch that.”

“You don’t wanna watch anything.” He huffs.

“Just choose something good.” Both of you are bickering with each other but keeping your positions, his hand is still tangled in your hair, and you're still face to chest with him. You look up in sync when Eunseok passes by your room to get to his own, however he doesn’t make it to his room yet because he stopped to watch the two of you bicker.

If he didn’t know any better he’d think that the both of you were dating. Funny thing is, he really didn’t know any better. So he stood there in shock staring at you two together holding a half sandwich right in front of his mouth.

“What are you looking at?” You spit, after a small moment of awkward silence.

As soon as the words leave your mouth you realize exactly what he’s looking at, because you look up at Anton and jump away a second later. Not noticing how it looked from a different point of view.

Eunseok walks away immediately with a small chuckle, because although he didn’t understand what was going on you at least acknowledged his existence and talked to him, so that was an improvement.

Your relationship with your brother was still taking baby steps to recovery, but your relationship with your best friend couldn’t get any better. If you weren’t sitting right besides him, you were texting him, if you weren’t texting him, you were calling him.

You made the deal to make this summer count, just in case you grew apart from each other but with the way things were going you highly doubted that anything would break you apart now.

You threw your head back on your bed, staring at your phone with your arms held out over top of your face. You smile never wavering as you type away messages to Anton. First you send the word “hello” 8 individual times in separate messages until he responds, you wanna make sure that you have his attention first.

But when he doesn’t respond or even open the messages, you let the anticipation get the best of you and just call him, so you can at least hear his reaction when you tell him the news that has you busting at the seams with excitement.

Yet, something about hearing the phone ring over and over again slowly kills the excitement in you. Your smile is still present, it’s just smaller now.

Anton always answered his phone for you, even during the cello lessons that his dad used to make him take after school. So this is something new to you, and you’re not sure how to really feel about it.

The only thing you can think to do is just go to his house and see him in person. At Least this way you could see his reaction face to face and even hang out for a little. That’s what you choose to do, throwing your legs over your bed to rush to his front door.

“Hey, guess wha-” You start the second the door opens but stop when you see that the person who opened the door wasn’t Anton. In fact, you don’t know who this is, you’ve never seen her before.

“Hi?” The girl pipes up, smiling at you. You try to force yourself to mirror her smile, it lasts almost as long as a blink but with all the thoughts running through your head you end up just blurting out. “Who are you?”

“I’m Anton’s friend.” She holds her hand out to you. “Nice to meet you.” She smiles.

You feel your heart sink into your chest, the longer you look at her. It was happening already, and summer isn’t even over yet. you thought things were looking up, but it’s just the beginning of the end.

You wanna ask, “Are you sure?” because Anton's never mentioned her before, but you hold your tongue and simply ask “Is he here?” and she responds with “Yeah, I’ll get him for you.”

You wait for less than a minute before Anton comes to the door, you hadn’t thought about what you were going to say when you did see him. So now you’re stumbling over your words trying to find out what question you wanna ask first.

“I just came because you didn’t answer your phone, but I guess you have a date so that would explain everything.” you mutter

“It's not a date, she just came over to play games.”

“sounds fun.”

“you’re not mad.. right?”

“I'm just a little disappointed that you didn’t tell me. but she’s really pretty I hope you guys have fun.”

“why do you even care? we’re just friends.” he asks when get ready to turn your back.

“Just fr- the rest of the words can’t even leave your mouth, just caught in your throat as tears begin to swarm your waterline. “Clearly we don’t feel the same way, so I’ll just go.”

“Feel the same way?” he repeats “about what? there’s nothing to feel.” That's what does it, knocks the wind right out of your lungs.

“nothing. nothing, Anton bye.” you hurry and walk away before he could see you cry. the conversation reminds you of the stupid high school that you used to avoid. clinging onto Anton because you always thought he was far too sweet to ever treat you or anyone like that. but you were wrong, you were terribly wrong, and it makes you physically ill.

Crying for the third time this summer, barging into the house past Eunseok and running into your room. This might actually be your first heartbreak, and it’s funny to think that your best friend would be the one to give it to you.

“knock knock.” Eunseok knocks on the bedroom door that you forgot to close. Usually he’d wait for your permission to enter but this time he just walks right in and takes a spot on the edge of your bed.

“go away.” you sob into your pillow.

He continues to speak, not caring about your protests. “I know you don’t wanna talk to me right now. but I want you to know that I'll always be here for you. and no matter what i’ll always look out for you.”

“I don't need you to look out for me.”

He doesn’t say anything else because he knows it’s only a matter of time before you open up to him about what’s going on.

he thought right, it takes not even 4 seconds for you to sit up and look at him with glossy eyes. “we’re just friends, not best friends, not even close friends. just friends.” you hiccup in between words.

When eunseok doesn’t say anything you keep talking.

"He was hanging out with this girl; I've never met her before. Well, I mean he’s never told me about her, and she’s really pretty. He probably thinks she’s prettier than me.”

“you’re crying because he was hanging out with a girl?” Eunseok recaps and you roll your eyes.

“You don’t get it, no one gets it.” Not even you. You couldn’t explain to him what’s wrong if you wanted to, because you actually had no clue. All you knew was that you saw him with another girl, and it hurt. It hurt a lot.

“Then explain it to me.” Your brother looks at you, really trying to understand so he could find a way to make you feel better. When you go completely silent, he blurts out another question.

“Do you like him?”

Now you get it, now it all makes sense. You don’t wanna admit it aloud, but you know the truth. You’ve stopped crying but your voice is still weak and raspy when you say. “We’re just friends.” Repeating Anton's exact words.

It wasn’t easy ignoring Anton, not because you were struggling to stay away from him but because he made it hard to pretend like he never existed. Blowing up your phone with phone calls or text messages and popping up at your front door occasionally so you’d be forced to see his face.

You’ve moved on from being mad about whatever it was that you were mad about in the first place, to being mad about the fact that he didn’t share the same feelings you had.

This was all his fault anyways, because if it wasn't for his dumb stupid face and his annoying soft voice you would’ve never fallen for him in the first place. You were actually pretty good at keeping your emotions controlled… well more less. But this was still his fault, and you weren’t taking any responsibility.

1:15 Brachio: Wanna go skating today?

1:22 Brachio: hey??

1:37 Brachio: did I do something wrong?”

You scoff at the last message; he really had the audacity to ask if he did something wrong. Even if you didn’t fully know the reason you were mad, he should’ve definitely known.

4:49 Brachio: Hello?

4:49 Brachio: I’m sorry, please talk to me.

4:49 Brachio: this isn’t fun I’m getting flashbacks.

4:50 Brachio: I’ll bake you a cake.

4:50 Brachio: I’ll do anything.

5: 10 Brachio: wow so you hate me.

6:20 You: I do, leave me alone.

6:20 Brachio: Oh, sorry,

6:29 Brachio: Are you still mad?

You leave your phone faced up and watch his name flash more and more from the corner of your room. Trying to think of anything else to distract you from the conversation Anton was having with himself in your messages.

“What are you doing out here?” Sungchan looks down at Anton cropped down in front of your door. “Waiting or Y/n” he responds.

“Oh I’ll get her for you.” He turns.

“No! She’s not gonna come out if you tell her I’m here. I’ll just wait.”

“Is this like a game?... or”

“She came over 2 weeks ago, and we had a small argument about… actually I don’t know what it was about. I just know that it upset her that I had one of my friends over.”

“Interesting, interesting and was this friend a girl?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you find her physically attractive?”

“No, I’ve never really looked at her like that.”

“Interesting.” sungchan taps his chin 3 times for cinematic effect. “Seems to me like Y/n might have a little crush on you.”

“On me? She couldn’t possi- oh~” he comes to the realization mid sentence. “What is Anton gonna do with this new found information?” Sungchan begins to speak in his version of a British accent.

“There’s nothing I can do, She won’t talk to me. It’s been weeks.” Anton looks up to sungchan.

“If there is a will. There will be a way.” Sungchan speaks with his finger in the air as if he was some inspirational character from a children's book. “Okay…” Anton mutters.

“Sungchan says! We shall make it rain.”

“Make it rain?” Anton questions

“Make it rain.” Sungchan heroically yells.

“Make it rain?” Anton asks again.

Since summer was coming down to an end, you figured there was no other time to start packing but now. The first thing you decided to start with was the abundance of posters on your walls. It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. Maybe you needed a little change in your life, and growing up wasn’t all that bad.

“I never thought I’d see this room all packed up.” Eunseok says as he walks through your bedroom door.

“I haven’t even started yet.” You laugh.

“You start school in a few weeks. How do you feel?”

“I’m actually kind of excited, maybe it’s time for me to make new friends.”

“Are you at least gonna talk to him before you go?”

“He’ll be fine, he has someone to keep him company.” you don’t even take the time to look at your brother when you speak. Focusing on carefully taking down your wall art without ripping any of them.

“I’m sure he’d still like to talk to you.”

“I don’t care.’ You say bluntly.

“Maybe you should.” You only turn to look at him when he’s gone. Leaving you alone with nothing but your crowded walls and crowded thoughts to match. Going away for college meant you might not ever talk to Anton again. Well, you were probably gonna see him around campus or something, sure. But you won’t be friends like you used to. He’ll go off to build his new group of people and so will you.

Maybe this friendship wasn’t so strong after all.

The splashing water against your window is enough to pull you out of your thoughts. You guess that it’s rain at first, so you open your window to observe the sky but see that it’s completely bright and clear.

“What the heck?” You say aloud to yourself trying to observe where the sprinkles of water were coming from.

Then you see Anton standing right below you, drenched in water and Sungchan holding the water hose from the bushes. “These idiots.” You mutter under your breath.

“Y/n someone's here for you.” Eunseok yells from the stairs. Making sure to leave out Anton’s name because he knew you wouldn’t leave your room if he did mention him.

Anton doesn’t give you the chance to speak before he starts to recite the note he had in his hands. The note was just as wet as he was and the ink had already begun washing off the paper, but he continued to read anyways.

“I. am. Very. sorry. For-” not caring to hear the rest of what he has to say you snatch the damped paper out of his hand and rip it up in front of him. Then throwing the pieces back in his face before you slam the door and leave him to talk to himself.

“I didn’t need that.” He murmurs through the barrier between you two.

“Remember you pinky promised me that we’d always be friends. You can’t break it now, we never break our pinky promises.” He speaks on the other side of the door since you weren’t gonna speak to him face to face.

“For the love of god Anton, go away-” You yell at him when you open your front door, and within a blink of an eye his lips are on yours and his hands are on each side of your face. He’d pulled you far enough out of your house to get drenched in the water that Sungchan was spraying.

You break the kiss first, with a harsh slap on his cheek. “Why did you do that?” You shout.

“That’s what they do in the movies whenever they confess their feelings. I thought it would work.” he explains, holding his cheek,

“You like me?”

“Am i gonna get slapped again if I say yes?”

You don’t have anything else to say, so you pull him down to you by the collar of his shirt and kiss him once again. Before whispering “I like you too.” against his lips

“So you’re not mad at me anymore?”

“I still haven’t gotten a cake yet.” is your response to his question, but you both knew that you were far from mad at him.

You guys shared over 234 pinky promises in the time span that you had been friends. And all of them remained unbroken, except for one.

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devildomwriter · 4 months

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Deck the Halls With Boughs of Holly | Barbatos x Reader

.7K Words | GN Reader | CW: none, slightly Nsfwish

Barbatos was at the top of the ladder with boughs of holly in hand. He sighed as he hung the hundredth bunch and looked down the long corridor he had left.

The Little D.’s scrambled beneath him also trying to quickly hang the boughs. Barbatos wanted it done as soon as possible so Diavolo had as much time to enjoy the holiday spirit as he could.

Barbatos descended the ladder and moved it to the next window when a grin crossed his face. He turned around and bowed politely, “___ what a happy surprise. What brings you to the demon lord’s castle?”

You grinned and hugged him, “we've been dating for months, when will you stop being so formal?” You asked.

He chuckled and shook his head, “Old habits I suppose. Is there something I can help you with today?”

You shook your head. “Just the opposite. I wanted to help you decorate.”

He looked surprised but it melted into a pleased grin. “Oh my. How kind of you, ___.”

He eyed the boxes yet to be emptied and decided it would be okay to accept your help as long as it was really what you wanted.

He nodded and handed you a box with several bunches of holly. You started laughing and he gave you a puzzled look.

“I finally get to deck the halls with boughs of holly,” you chuckled.

Barbatos shook his head. “Oh, is that why you wanted to help?”

You quickly protested, “No, not at all. It was a funny coincidence that’s why I was laughing.”

Barbatos decided you were telling the truth and ascended the ladder again to continue where he left off.

You turned around and Little D. no.3 and Little D. no.6 brought you a ladder and scooted it to the correct spot.

“Will you hold it for me?” You asked them and they nodded. They were glad to have an excuse to stop running around. Little D. no.7 looked upset he hadn’t offered as he was most tired of them all.

Barbatos clicked his tongue in disappointment and the Little D.’s quickened their pace while their two brothers had a chance to relax by the ladder.

“Are you alright up there?” Barbatos asked, looking back every couple of seconds to make sure you hadn’t gotten scared.

It was a pretty tall ladder but you had the magic to support your fall so it didn’t worry you. A thought occurred to you and you sighed deeply. Barbatos turned back around to inquire if you were alright.

“Why aren’t we just using magic…”

He shook his head. “Did you forget it’s Devil Down Day?”

“Oh, is that today?”

Barbatos sighed and shook his head. “I hope you haven’t been using your magic, that would be a big problem.”

You shook your head. “Not unless getting here counts because that started in the human world technically.”

He nodded in approval, “I suppose that doesn’t violate anything.”

You smiled, relieved you weren’t in trouble with anyone, especially Barbatos. It was no secret you were fond of each other but he was a stickler for the rules even when you were involved so you had to be very careful to avoid breaking any.

“It always has some bad timing doesn’t it?”

Barbatos nodded, “it did nearly kill you last time if I recall.”

You chuckled nervously. “Yeah…don’t remind me.”

He descended the ladder and dismissed the Little D.’s holding you up to grab the ladder himself.

You began to descend when your foot missed a step. Barbatos’s eyes widened and he took a step up to catch you by your hips. You gasped and he carried you down even though it wasn’t necessary.

“Perhaps you could hold the ladders instead.”

You blushed, embarrassed. “Th-that was just an accident.”

“Well I should hope it was an accident and you weren’t falling on purpose so I’d carry you,” he teased and your face reddened.

“Huh?”

“If that were the case I may have to punish you for taking me away from my responsibilities,” he gave you a mischievous grin and you blinked in surprise.

Did he really mean what you think he meant? He was good at teasing you and denying it later, which you were already used to thanks to Lucifer.

“Wh-what kind of punishment?” You stuttered and it was his turn to laugh.

“What an adorable expression. Would you like to find out?”

You nodded and he beamed. He ordered the Little D.‘s to finish the decorations themselves and carried you away to his room.

You were “punished” until morning, though in your opinion it was more of a present. It was the perfect way to begin the holidays

#obey me drabble #obey me 25 days of christmas #obey me nsfwish #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #omswd Barbatos x reader #obey me x reader #25 days of obey me christmas #obey me ficlet #omswd Barbatos

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fandomwritingbit · 22 days

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Sweet girl pt.6

Dbf William Afton x (fem) virgin reader

Synop: Your parents are throwing a neighbourhood party, you're looking forward to it. It's too bad you're going to miss all of it.

Warnings: smut, oral, taking of virginity, public sex, coercion, corruption and manipulation. William is pretty evil ngl.

Imma just link to the masterlist, this series is getting well too long lol.

A/n: I've never written cherry-popping before I hope this is okay. This is so far from my experience it's hard to believe it'd be the same even lmao. Also my writer's block has been so fucking bad recently, I need all the slack you're willing to give.

It sounded great when your parents first put it to you: a barbeque a few weekends from now, the whole neighbourhood invited to enjoy some good food and sunshine. The perfect excuse to flaunt a gorgeous lavender dress you bought months ago, it caught your eye on a sales rack, a perfect flowy fabric that clung to all the right places. Your size, a match made in heaven. You can’t help but shiver with the thought of how William will react to it, handsy is the word that springs to mind, not that you are against that.

The day of, you step into that dress, the fabric soft and almost soothing around your body. It’s hot today and you’re glad for the lightness of the material, though you think that maybe the heat on your face is from anticipation. He’s all you think about, the danger of him asking you to touch him with your dad barely 10 feet away, the beautiful feeling of his fingers inside you tearing an orgasm out of you like nothing you've had before, the nights you’ve spent calling him and getting off. You’re addicted to all of it and it has your fingers dipping into your panties at any given opportunity.

You pad downstairs about ten minutes before people are set to arrive, finding your mum and dad hurrying around. “Oh you look lovely, sweetie.” Your dad says in passing, carrying an overly big bowl of salad towards your dining table. It was full of all kinds of buffet bits, but enough space left for guests to contribute things, as tends to be customary. Right now the amount of food seems over the top, but you know that once things get going your house will be full of everyone with a tie to the community.

…

And you were correct, your house is swarming. People in the living room, the dining room, outside, all chatting and greeting neighbours that ‘they really should see more often’. You’re herded around groups of people by your mum and dad, introductions and re-introductions said to what felt like hundreds, but was likely only twenty or so. You are as polite as you can, smiling through small talk about your education and how much you’ve changed since last year, but your heart’s not in it, your eyes are constantly flicking around for William. It should be easy to spot him, he's a tall enough fella, but your searching keeps turning up empty.

Your glancing around the room is interrupted by a squeaky, “Oh my god, y/n?” You turn to where the voice is coming from, instantly recognising the girl of your age who was squeezing past your dad to get to you. “I haven’t seen you since… school.” She pulls a face at the word ‘school’ which you commiserate with, you can’t place this girl's name but the mention of school makes you frown. Your manners are important to you but it doesn’t take a genius to realise that if you haven't seen someone in years, there’s most likely a reason why.

“Yeah… It’s been a long time.” You agree, giving her a bright smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. In the middle of this awkward interaction you clap eyes on him and your heart jumps in your chest in such a ridiculous way you pray it doesn’t show on your face. He’s talking to a bloke you know from three or four houses down, a small smile on his face that has an air of amusement like he’s laughing internally at the gentleman’s expense.

You are almost physically pulling away from this conversation but the lass doesn’t stop talking, oblivious to your lack of interest as she tells you all about her cosmetology school and her apprenticeship. You just don’t have the rudeness in you to walk away so you grit your teeth and ride out the conversation, eagerly watching William out of the corner of your eye.

It takes so long trying to get her to leave that by the time she’s got out her phone and is part way through finding you on instagram, William is slinking out of the room. The moment she’s done, you brush her off with a polite see you later, leaving the room in the path your bad influence had used. You’re experiencing some kind of withdrawal from not having his attention, it’s pathetic but it’s true, and achingly obvious in how you walk your house searching for him… again.

You find him in your living room and you edge through a group of chatting neighbours to get through to him and as you get near still unnoticed you find your mum standing beside him, looking up at him and talking through a wide grin. “It feels like a long time since I’ve seen you properly, William.” It takes you no effort to lock onto your mother’s words, they make you frown instantly.

“Yeah I’ve been busy with work.” He shakes his head, “I’ll have to come and see you and Chris soon.” And your lovely daughter, he mentally adds, though some of the intention must show on his face because the woman in front of him puts her hand on his arm. His eyes widen.

“Anytime.” She says, doubling down on it, “I mean it, any-time. I like having you around.” Something about the tone of that turns your frown into a scowl. It’s flirtation, and you burn with anger. Jealousy, yes, you can’t help it, it’s instant, but for god’s sake your dad is right fucking there. You don’t consider how you could be overreacting, the indignation is too strong, so you leave the room in a huff, feeling like a fucking idiot for spending your whole day looking for a bloke who clearly wasn’t looking for you. It stings and in a flurry you remind yourself that all the things you’ve done with him are only your first times, not his.

You’re out of the house before you know it, keeping your head down as you go far to the bottom of your garden where a hedge gives you respite from turning heads. You’re not crying, but you’re not a mile away from it either. Maybe it’s that withdrawal again, but you stand in the corner feeling let down, lonely and stupid. Anger at your mum outweighs anger at William, but the latter is still strong.

You stand there for a while, getting a better grip on your emotions, you need enough of a hold to walk back inside and either brave more of the party or hide away in your room. This is when people need a smoke, you think to yourself, wondering if a fag could actually help relax someone in this state.

Calming yourself down takes a good few minutes but once you get there, you decide that yeah, you need some quiet for a bit, then some thought about why you went off the handle so quickly, why you’re so enamoured by William. But to do that you’re going to have to escape this whole party, preferably without being noticed because if someone asks you how you are right now, you don’t know how you’re going to react.

So you slip out your hiding place, peeking around the hedge to see the silent picture of people through your back windows. Here we go. You cross the garden pretty quickly and soon get your hands on the door handle into the house, you step inside managing to smile at the few heads that turn your way. But that smile soon drops away when he appears. Your heart jumps at the sudden confrontation, so long of trying to catch him but now you don’t want him anywhere near you.

“So that’s where you’ve been hiding.” William’s voice drips with honey and you try to ignore the warmth already settling in your core, but you know it’s a battle you won’t win.

You turn from his invasive gaze, hands a little shaky as you try to close the sliding door behind you. “Hey, where are you going, hm?” His eyes narrow at the blatant way you’re ignoring him, he can’t hold a serious expression though so a confused smirk rests on his face, how sweet you look with that pet lip. He puts his hand on your arm, halting the process of closing the door easily, no force necessary, the touch is enough. “Come with me outside, sweetheart, come on.”

You look up at him frowning, partially from previous anger, partially from fear that someone else will see, how he can dare to be so obvious is beyond you. There’s no room to reason with him, not when he’s already opening the door again, already guiding you through it, that grip still present on your arm. It’s not a firm hold, it’s barely there but, the skin to skin contact has you enthralled.

He takes you all the way back to the hidden spot you left just minutes ago, only this time it doesn’t feel like such a safe space. Once out of view he lowers his head down to look you in your face, not liking when you turn away and so catching your chin with his thumb. “Are you alright, sweet thing? What’s wrong?”

His sickly sweet tone is enough to spark a flash of anger as bright as it is sudden. “Why don’t you ask my mum?” You snap, your voice much more petulant than it is clever, the patheticness of it has your cheeks hot but you double down. William just grins, confusion leaving his brow furrowed. This is new, he thinks, you’ve never taken that tone with him before, it’s fun, shiny-new and exciting.

You continue, provoked by him not understanding what you mean, “...You seemed to be enjoying her company anyway...” You speak dejectedly, your jealousy running riot with you. You want to pull away from him, the lack of genuineness in his expression inflames you, he thinks it’s all a game and you can’t believe you’ve only just cottoned on.

William hums in acknowledgement before dropping his hand from you, you’re glad that he’s taking you that bit more seriously but it’s downright shameful how you miss the contact already.

It takes a lot in him not to laugh, the unfounded envy practically has your eyes glowing. This is good though, such passion all from feeling cast aside, you so desperately want him to want you and that is just perfect. For him. He faces your glare dead on, being very careful not to patronise you too much. “What exactly are you jealous of?”

You open your mouth to protest, hating yourself for being so easy to read. You know your bitterness is written on every inch of you, your closed stance, your harsh jaw, the immature tone of your voice, but you just can’t fucking help it. There’s no point denying it, so you don’t bother. “There…” you stumble, having to abandon your daggers to continue, “You didn’t have to flirt with my mum right in front of my face like that… and my dad’s.”

He nods, sighing before answering you through a slick grin, “I think maybe your mam was teasing me, a little.” That grin simply blossoms, thorough amusement peeking out of hiding, “But you more than anyone should know that flirting with me isn’t half as boring as that was.”

You don’t have time to fight the way you flush, it’s not fair, are you really this easy to win over? He’s doing the William equivalent of batting his eyelashes at you and you’re falling for it, you must want to deep down. But you still don’t trust him as far as you could throw him, which is needless to say, not far.

“Come on, why would I even consider your mother when I have her sweet girl looking at me so moody right now, huh?” You roll your eyes at that, moving to turn away and think for yourself but he stops you, his hands on you holding you still and muting the dull noise around you. “At least tell me what I can do to make it better. How can I earn your forgiveness?” He speaks with a certain glee, prideful of his art form, like you’re some puzzle he’s solved before. And with his face close to yours he adds mockingly, “Or have I got it already?”

You want to touch him, shut him up, but you’re a mere corner away from the whole neighbourhood. “You’re slimy.” You speak honestly, well maybe you’re sugar-coating it even, “And I’m not stupid.” Your conviction is there, but the physical support isn’t, you’re looking up at him like a doe, breathing quicker than normal, your chest rising and falling fast in your new dress.

He laughs, “True. But watch it, you’ll hurt my feelings.” He has something else to say, some other mocking teasing syrup, you don’t let him, throwing yourself towards him. Your lips press against his in a sudden desperate way, like you’ve something to prove. Your lack of finesse could be mistaken for hunger but he knows you better than that, he dominates the kiss without much effort, easily pulling you along with his rhythm. He likes you like this, smart, able to see through him, it turns him on. Because what’s better than spoiling a naive young woman? Spoiling one who knows it’s happening and can’t help herself either way.

William breaks the kiss, hands eagerly taking in your shape, “Let me make you forgive me, right here.” As he talks his touch slides low, over your arse and making your back curve against him. “I’m dying to pull this cute dress up.” You need it, just whining some form of approval, wordless at that predator’s glint in his gaze. He slides his hand between your legs and you’re keen, shivering at the spark of pleasure and eagerly angling your hips for more.

He pauses his touch for a moment, breath staggering as he thinks about what he’s going to do, you hardly notice for your own need. When you do look at him, you see him shaking his head, snickering at something unbeknownst to you.

He moves then, debasing himself by dropping to his knees on the grass, hands grabbing your skirt fabric up above your waist band, gathering it there in one to rive your panties down with the other. The cool air invades you, unwarned exposure making you moan. “William-”

“Shush.” He chastises bluntly, as if his thumb wasn’t now resting against your clit and giving it a perfect gentle pressure. He knows what you’re going to say, “You don’t want anyone to see, huh? Well, bite your tongue. I don’t have to worry about mine.” The words are wicked with innuendo and you have to stifle everything in you except a sharp intake of breath when he shows you exactly what he’s doing with his tongue.

It’s dirty, shame-ridden and debauched, but you’re at the mercy of his mouth devouring your cunt. Parting your seam to toy with the slick plea of your hole. You can hardly stand still, body shaking with fretful want, it’s too much and not nearly enough, you have to battle to keep quiet against the vindictive way your core is tightening.

His tongue drags through your slit and he sniggers against you before cruelly sucking your bundle of nerves. You’re grabbing him, pulling him closer, trying to push him away, as you tingle with need for your end. He’s relentless, playing your instrument just right and you have no faculty to ask for respite. Your coil clenches tight and snaps, and you come undone right there in your garden, waves of bliss so bright your legs shake and you need his arms to hold you up. There are tears in your eyes and you don’t know if they’re because of your climax or the emotional whiplash you’ve just endured. You don’t have it in you to care.

He pulls away from you and you watch over-blissed as he wipes your slick from his face on the back of his hand, letting your skirt fall to its rightful position. “Now that’s the perfect thing, I’ve missed.” He stands, his eyes dark with arousal. “You’re a good girl on the phone but fuck there’s nothing like it in person.”

You beam with pride, his praise so much nicer when you’re pliant and glistening from pleasure. How bad an idea that was isn’t lost on you, but it was worth it, even if now you have to pull your knickers up to hide the evidence. As you do, you see how filthy he is, mud coating his knees and you laugh.

Struggling to explain yourself through the shocked giggles you manage to state, “Your trousers are ruined.”

He looks down and sees why you’re so lost in laughter, he had weighed up his options though and tasting your sweet pussy was more than worth the dirt. William attempts to brush some away but it’s never going to happen, and so with a sigh he sniggers, “Am I old enough to have people believe I fell?”

You burst out laughing at that, unable to regain yourself for a while, he deserves that, you think. After some time you are lucid enough to say, “Maybe say tripped instead of fell.” Your cheeks are shiny with both the fit of giggles and the aftermath of your activity, you look so delectable he hardly minds the state of his clothes.

“Why don’t,” William begins, still smirking, and you give him as much of your attention as you can, “you show me your room? I’d like to see it in person.” He’s testing to see how much forgiveness he’s won, you know that, but the prospect of what’s to come is motivation enough to give him it.

“Okay.” You agree, the idea of it has your chest tight but your core knows better, “Should I be scared?” You’re joking, mostly, your room is a different beast, much more personal. Somehow more bare than what you’ve just done.

“Very.”

Walking through your house felt dangerous, like it’s written on your forehead that you’re doing something wrong. People are eating now though, too self-absorbed to notice the rabbit leading the fox to its burrow, which is for the best, all things considered.

He follows you obediently, mind half-focused on your retreating form, the other half pondering just what he’s going to do about this raging erection he’s afflicted with. You looked so sweet taking him in your mouth, so eager to please, malleable. But your perfect unbroken cunt would be just delightful to rut against. As much as he wants to, he won’t- can’t deflower you just yet, not with all these people around to hear the squeaking of bedsprings, hell, the squeaking of you. The idea makes his cock throb and he’s already palming himself before you reach the landing.

“This one.” You say, opening the door for him, your voice sounds much smaller than it did two minutes ago. You are scared, all jokes aside.

He moves past you inside, you’re the one to shut the door, sealing the two of you inside your bedroom. How out of place he looks, this huge hulking figure in your untainted room, the walls pastel, the sheets light and the curtain frilled.

“I could have told you your room looks like this.” His grin is wolfish, the imposition feels very metaphorical and he revels in it. He’s absent-mindedly touching things, a bottle of perfume on your drawers, then a teddy on your bed, you like how they look in his hands, delicate, breakable.

You find yourself speaking before the words are clear in your mind, “William…” He turns to you, still holding the fucking bear, visible overjoyed to be in your private space, piece by piece you’ve let him in here, first through a camera now this, it’s all very correct.

“Hm?”

You’re flummoxed for words, arms folded across your chest in some vain effort to keep yourself together, “I want to t-touch you. On th-the bed.” The request takes a part of your soul with it, it’s unveiled and glaringly obvious, but there’s no other way to say it, that is what you want. Well, some of it.

Chuckling, he throws the teddy aside, “That is the best thing anyone has ever asked me.” He means it, he could touch the peak now with just how pretty you’re talking to him.

He moves slightly and you interrupt him, the rest of your want raising its whiny head. “You’ll have to take t-that off.” You’re pointing at his trousers and he laughs, remembering the muck decorating his legs, but the laughter dies quickly and he fixes you with a quizzical look, eyes narrowed as he again reads you like a book.

“Because of the mud, or another reason?” He teases and you bite your lip, your answer wearing you, more than the other way around. Much like the way smugness is wearing him. “I know you like to see, you’re quite fascinated, aren’t you?” He grabs himself as he speaks, crude, garish and vulgar, and it prickles your sides.

“You like to see me.” You retort, trying not to feel the embarrassment your brain really wants you to.

“Very true.”

…

Fascinated is perhaps the right word, you are fascinated by him. It’s more than just that he’s handsome or you find him attractive, it’s curiosity, desire to understand. The broadness of his shoulders, the muscle on his arms, the hair on his chest, his legs, his cock; it is fascinating.

You start off sitting beside him on your duvet, enjoying the sight of him with his dick in your hand. Observing what your action is doing, how his breath changes for you, then a deep groan when you smear the precum beading on his tip. It’s driving you crazy and in a sudden realisation you need more. You want it all, want to know how his thickness is going to feel inside you, good, bad, dirty and ugly, you need it.

And you tell him.

�� The view of William above you is insane, the dark greying hair trailing down his chest leading your gaze down to the sight of him stroking his cock, positioned above your cunt. He presses against you occasionally, your hot slick beckons for him and he thrusts himself through it, restraint a heavy weight on his shoulders. It’s maddening.

“Please…” You whine, any trace of dignity you had is long gone, you’re corroded, worn down to your bare minimum and you need him to feel the same way.

He takes his eyes off your glistening cunt to flash you a devastating smirk, “Please, what?” The teasing makes you shift underneath him, desperate for more, that’s just how he wants you. As he watches you he pleasures himself, it’s bloody stupid how weak your pretty hole has got him.

The lewd words burn in your throat, there’s no debate in saying them, not anymore, “Fuck me… please.” You manage to choke out, but it still fails to convey your need to be filled. His fingers had made you see stars, but you’re greedy for more, you want him to come undone inside you. You want to drive him mad.

Well, he didn’t expect you to say that. You want him to take your innocence right now? Right on your lacy fucking bed sheets? With your parents downstairs? Clearly you’re not thinking straight, you’re too fucked up and that is just delicious. Your plea makes his cock twitch in his hand, he wants nothing more than to stretch your sweet pussy around him but you could hardly handle his fingers. You hardly know what you’re begging for.

“You want me inside?” As he speaks he rubs his cock over your pussy lips, there’s an almost sinister quality to his voice that makes your core tighten.

You nod, squirming away from the teasing of your aching bundle of nerves; that’s exactly what you want.

William sniggers, “I can’t, sweetheart. Not with everyone downstairs to hear.” You hardly notice the noises you make, but you’re vocal as anything, whining from the tiniest touch, he has no doubt his cock would make you scream. The reasoning falls on deaf ears, you don’t care because his power over you is too strong. You just want his cock inside you so he becomes as pathetic as you are.

“Please.” You try again, this time shifting your body to roll your hips against his cock to show you’re serious, but your thighs quiver at the stimulation.

In a sudden movement he seizes your jaw, forcing your gaze away from his cock on your swollen pussy to the dark look in his eyes. The restraint is visible, a clear crack in his in-control facade. He can’t help it, your begging is making him leak again, impatient precum oozing from his tip, begging alongside you for stimulation. How’s he supposed to hold himself back from this perfect untouched cunt right here asking him to deflower it?

“Do you even know what you’re asking for?” He speaks slow, a singsong tone to the words that’s a little sharper than intended due to the continued rolling of your hips. “It’s not to be taken lightly.”

You watch him wide-eyed, understanding his words is a conscious effort. “It’s not just a quick fuck, sweetheart. It’s me breaking this little pussy. Taking your innocence.” He punctuated the filthy point by lining his cock up with your entrance, eliciting a terrified pang of excitement in your core. “Stretching you open. You know what that means?”

He pauses but you don’t have the speech to answer, he thought as much, “Means it’s all mine. My little toy to use whenever I want. Break it over and over.” At this moment it doesn’t occur to you that this is the real William, not just slimy but the honest William who knows he’s bad, creepy, gross whatever you want to call it. The man who’s blatantly moulding you into something he can use, using your sexual naivety against you and playing your mind and body like a fiddle.

You swallow, his words go straight to your cunt making you impossibly wetter. He looks down at you and his control slips from his fingertips, he knows you’re going to feel so fucking good around him, how tight and wet and fucking warm.

“That what you want?” He blatantly asks, the intention thick in the air.

“Y-yes.” You start, your back arching a little, “I want it to be yours.” You know the words are dangerous, but you have no agency to prevent them from leaving your lips. “I want you to t-take it. Please.”

He lets go of your jaw, a particularly mean expression possessing his face. “God, you are fucking stupid.” He speaks quietly but you hear, it stings and you’re unable to tell if he’s kidding or not. He wasn’t, you are stupid to let him get this far, and he’s stupid for going along with your begging.

His cock is still notched tight against your entrance and he holds you squirming still with a hand on your hip. “You’re going to be quiet for me, alright? I’m giving you what you want.” His voice is thick but you hardly notice he even spoke, your heart is pounding and your whole body tense with anticipation.

He parts your walls, pressing in slightly, just the head and your eyes ping wide. You’re wet, drenched even, ready for it but it still hurts. A noise escaped you, wounded, doubling when he presses just that little bit further. “Shh, fuck.” His curse is very telling, you’re strangling him already in the most perfect way, if he’s not careful he’s going to crack his own jaw with how tight it is in restraint. “I told you.” The words are harsher than he meant them, but seeing the tears already welling in your eyes he knows he was right.

His hand comes over your clit, drawing a circle over the bundle and it works, a blaze of pleasure drapes over the invasion but it doesn’t distract you when he moves, forcing himself a lot further in your cunt. You cry out and in a sharp movement he covers your mouth, grunting at how you tense due to the sudden action. “Ah-You’re going to do it, sweet thing. Just relax, you’re tight as a fucking vice.”

You try, blinking through tears, and focus on his rhythm on your clit, it’s better, easing. He moves, slowly pulling out then back in and you see it. The need for him inside, shaping your walls around him, your body squeezes him eager for him to continue.

Your mouth is open behind his hand, muffled sounds leaving your lips, whining, mewling, hooked on the promise of overcoming the ache and snapping the coil inside you more than ever before. If your mouth was free maybe you’d say his name, or kiss him, or curse him, you don’t really know. His movement becomes better, you can take him, he knows you can. So he thrusts deep, making you accept him, your yelp is stifled and your teeth dig into the palm of his hand, it's unnoticed, overshadowed by the perfect feeling of you cunt swallowing him completely.

“God,” He scowls.

The pain dies again, settling back to the muted ache, you’re reeling, full more than should be possible, breathing frantically through your nose. He’s slow, pushing in and out of your hole considerately, as he’d be sure to tell you. And you quickly realise with a startling joy how he digs just right into a spot deep inside you. It’s almost blinding, engulfing you in a doubly quick need to end.

Your cunt throbs and he flicks his eyes back to your face, what a good girl you are. He can feel the change in you, the rise of pleasure over pain, the way you panic at the growth of your end, your eyes say it all fearful of what’s going to happen. You’re close to an end, body burning and falling rigid underneath him. It hits you like a train, each time he shoves himself deep is electric, it's intense and you whiteknuckle just to take the pace he keeps as you cum around him.

“Fuck, baby.” His words are edged with his own ruin, the rhythm of his pace growing brave, selfish, you’re taking it so well. And he loses it, no sense in him to pull out, he doesn’t care, your perfect cunt wants it. He’s biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself quiet as his warmth spills inside you, thrusts sloppy to push his cum deep inside you. You whimper, it's a dirty feeling, but a right one and seeing the look on his face you realise that you were right, he looks as pathetic as you feel.

He removes his hand from your mouth, your skin red under his grip, freeing you to moan pitifully. You’re wrecked, somehow exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. You don't know how you feel, your climax was like something unreal and when he slowly pulls out of you, you feel empty. William was right, you’re changed.

He sits beside your form still laid exactly as he left you, your pretty pussy flushed and shining. “You alright?”

You blink, like you somehow forgot he was a person able to speak, “Yeah, I think so.” Your voice is hoarse as fragile as the rest of you and it makes him grin.

He looks down at you, and just laughs, at you, at him, at the situation, “What the fuck are we supposed to do now then?”

It makes you chuckle and you run your hand over your face. Yeah, what exactly should you do now?

#fnaf #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf smut #william afton x you #fnaf william afton #william afton x female reader

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kitixie · 8 months

Text

Little Girl Gone (pt 6)

word count: 2k

information: y'all, i am so sorry this took so long, i've been in a slump and clinicals just started so i've also been super busy. but i promise i am going to finish this!

warnings: smut. dirty, filthy, nasty smut. seriously, its like 3 pages of smut with some dialogue, but i won't apologize for it 🙃

taglist: @budugu, @ajmiila02, @filmtv2022, @cyphah, @ce1iat, @thenattitude, @globetrotter28, @tn22220-blog, @fudgethisyo, @geeky-politics-46, @chaengist, @lostgirl219, @amberpanda99, @sharrren, @bookishbabyyyy

Tommy’s POV

It had been a week. It had been a fucking week since I had last seen Y/N, since I had tasted her lips on her kitchen counter and gathered the strength to pull away. Dealing with business and family had made this week drag on like months, leaving a hole in my chest that grew everyday I wasn’t around her. I had been so close to having her, her body and mind were almost mine, and then I remembered that stupid, pointless meeting in Camden, and I pulled away like an idiot. I was needed at the meeting, but still; I needed her more.

Everytime that my mind has dared to go back to that night, it always ends the same. Me in a bathroom or closet or any other private place, jerking my cock like a madman. I couldn’t stand it any longer, I needed to have her. I knew I wouldn’t be able to see her for a while, and that only made it worse. It only made me treasure the memories more.

“Thomas,” Polly croaked, I could still see the tear stains on her face from earlier.

Business had not gone well, ending with Arthur and John being arrested, and Michael getting his ass handed to him in the process. Polly had been crying and screaming the entire time, along with Ada, who is ever the dramatic. Ada has now resumed her vow of silence against me, at least until I get our brothers free, and Polly won’t stop fucking crying, tears coming out between her hands as she covers her face. I understand her upset, I really do, but it isn’t my fault that her son manages to get beat to a pulp everytime we go out, and she knows it.

“Yes, Pol?” I finally answer, the solemn look not leaving my face.

“What are you going to do? Ya have to get your brothers, the longer their in there the more pissed they’ll be,” she breathes, “I can take care of Michael, but you’ve got to handle things with the prison.”

Finally recognizing some of the life that comes back to her eyes, I sit for a moment. It’s not a problem to get Arthur and John out, I pull people from the jail all the time. I’m just not sure what to do with them once they’re out. They’ll be angry, looking for revenge, and I’ve got a sweet girl waiting on me that overpowers all thoughts of payback. Everyone will get what's coming for them, we are the Shelbys after all, but I want to come first. Preferably all over Y/N.

Another week gone by, and still I haven’t gotten to see her. The hole is now a gaping wound, and my cock is sore from how much my hand has been on it.

I was right, Arthur and John drug me straight back to Camden Town after they got out, and it’s taken all week to stalk and plan out our retribution. We got it, but at what cost? I still haven’t been around to see Y/N. I know she's been at the house, Pol called and told me that she asked her over and watch Finn while she tended to Michael. Hearing that made my heart swell the most it has in a long time, just knowing she cared enough to do something as simple as watch my kid brother. I am so far gone for her, and I don’t even think she realizes that she holds the most powerful man in Birmingham at her fingertips.

The three of us eventually arrive back to Watery Lane, and I immediately notice that Y/N’s umbrella is propped by the door. The adrenaline begins to rush through my veins, waking up all of the feelings that I just got to lie down this past week. All that lust and longing comes flooding back into me, all from an umbrella by the door. I enter the house first, and hear the sounds of laughter coming from the seating room. I peek around the door frame to see Finn and Y/N, locked in some sword battle, using sticks as their weapons. They slash at each other, Y/N obviously holding back given that she has almost two feet in height on the kid, but still it’s one of the most adorable things I’ve ever seen.

I, Tommy Shelby, just found something adorable. Something is truly wrong with me.

I ultimately decide not to disturb them and continue walking to my room. It’s only when I get to my room however, that I notice the tent that has formed in my pants. Fuck, I can’t even see her without getting aroused. I hear John and Arthur speaking to them downstairs, and figure that they’ll keep them busy long enough for me to handle my issue. I carefully shut my door, and lie down on my bed. Loosening my pants, I free my cock from its confines. The skin is red from straining against my clothes, but it only adds to the tenderness as I stroke myself. I imagine it being her hands, dragging up and down my length, toying with the sensitive head. I run my thumb over it, letting the pain from being so hard morph into the pleasure I’m imagining in my head. I picture her mouth, those soft, pink lips wrapping around me, licking and kissing all over my skin until she finally makes her way down. She’d start slow, testing the waters to see how she could handle me, until finally sinking all the way down, my cock touching the back of her throat. The same throat that makes all those mouthy remarks, and keeps all those secrets of what she wishes I’d do to her. I even go so far as to imagine her own fantasies, picturing her getting off to the thought of my hands on her, just like I’m doing now. The soft moans that would spill out of her mouth, falling hard in the silence of her apartment. The way her fingers dive and retreat in and out of that pussy; I know it’s tight, it has to be. That leads me to my next train of thought. The warm center between her legs, that would be dripping in arousal by the time I got around to it. She’d be so wet that it would go down her thighs, it’d be enough for me to drink. I let out a small moan, the feeling of my hand and the delusions in my head becoming too powerful. I can almost feel the softness of her lower lips, as they part to let me in. The filthy sounds she would make as I drove into her, first from on top of her, then once she got adjusted to my size, the way I would take her from the back.

The motion of my hand stops as soon as I hear a glass shatter, and I peel open my closed eyes to find Y/N, standing at my door, face flush, with a shattered glass and pool of water around her feet. Her eyes do not meet mine, and I realize that they’re dialed in on my cock, with my hand still wrapped around it.

“Tommy, I-I am so sorry, I had no idea-”

I don’t let her finish before I’m on my feet. I step over the glass, scooping her up in my arms before placing her inside my room so that she doesn’t step on the glass. I close the door behind her, somewhat aware that my hard on is still out on full display.

“How long have you been watching me, bad girl?” I say, bringing the same hand that was on my cock seconds ago up to her cheek. Her skin feels better than mine ever could.

“Not long, I swear it Tommy,” she rasps, trying to keep her eyes on my face.

“Did you hear me moan? That was for you, Love. You were what I was imaging,” I breathe, tipping my head towards hers.

“No-”

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.”

“Yes, I heard you Tommy. It was a beautiful sound.” She finally admits, leaning into my touch and resting her forehead against mine.

I smile at her, and go back to sit on my bed. When she doesn’t follow, I make the decision then and there. She can watch.

I begin stroking my cock again, this time keeping my eyes on her. I can see that she’s a little confused, but more aroused than anything. I spot that blush spreading from her cheeks down her neck, and onto her chest. I can see how heavily she’s breathing, her eyes darting between my face and my hand. I let out another moan as I see her hand go up to her breast, palming herself through the fabric of her shirt. She’s as needy as I am, she just won’t admit it.

I keep my pace, speeding up my hand to keep time with her breathing. The rise and fall of her breast picks up enough that I can feel my end coming near. She’s still watching, waiting to see me finish. I’ve never had an audience before, but I like that she’s the one seeing me. I give my length one last pull, and cum erupts, landing all over my stomach. I keep my hand moving until the last drop comes out, dribbling down my thumb.

“Come here, Y/N.” I say, motioning her with my finger.

She approaches me, staring at the mess I’ve made at myself, all at the sight of her.

“Yes, Tommy?” She questions, that sweet voice dripping in feigned innocence.

“Open your mouth.” I demand.

She does as she is told, and I stick my thumb into her waiting mouth.

“Clean it.” I poke her tongue with my digit, and she closes her mouth around it.

She swirls her tongue around my thumb, lightly sucking at the calloused skin of my hand. She is very thorough, but if she doesn’t stop, I’m going to take her right here, with every member of my family in this house. She pulls away, letting my thumb go from her mouth with a pop. I move to sit up, heading to the bathroom to clean myself off. Before I have the chance to reach my feet, she pushes me back down, her hand gripping my shoulders.

“What are ya doing, Love?”

“I’m cleaning you up, Thomas.” Fuck, even just my name coming from her mouth is almost enough to have me hard again.

She straddles my knees, bracing her hands on either side of my hips. I just allow her, wanting whatever physical contact she’ll give to me. She lowers her head, bringing it to the bottom of my stomach. She darts her tongue out, licking up the cum that pooled at my waistline. She swallows it, and I am in awe as I watch her. She traces the erratic trail up my body, her mouth leaving warmth in its wake. My skin flushes at her touch, and I jump when she lands her mouth on the ticklish part of my side, where the liquid has started to drip down. She lets out a small laugh and keeps going. Finally, when she has licked every last bit of evidence from my torso, she moves up, the crotch of her pants sitting right on top of my once again hard cock. I don’t move, in fear of not being able to stop, but she leans down, and whispers in my ear.

“You taste delicious, Tommy.” She darts her tongue out again, letting the warm thing touch my ear before she nips at it with her teeth.

I go to grab her hips, having had enough of her teasing, but she jumps off of me, landing her feet on the floor.

“I think I heard Finn calling for me,” She says, turning towards the door where the broken glass still lies.

She steps to the mess of glass and water and looks down.

“It’s a shame about your water, Love, I’m sure you’re parched.” She smirks, stepping over the shards and sending me a wink before she closes the door.

#thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinder fanfic #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby fic #tommy shelby #thomas shelby smut #tommy shelby smut

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 9 months

Text

The Forgotten Nest (Epilogue) - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Mitchell!OC (Cora)

Word Count: 1.4k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Past Unplanned Teenage Pregnancy; Crying; Named Mitchell Daughter OC (Cora) and Named Mitchell-Bradshaw Son (Nickie) and other named OCs

Summary: Ten years after the uranium facility mission, Nickie returns to Miramar.

A.N. There are references to a previous unplanned teenage pregnancy (between two eighteen-year-olds) in this fic. There won't be any flashback scenes to the pregnancy, but the references are still there, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Master List

Nickie walked through San Diego International Airport, excited to get home and surprise his family. Walking through the crowd, Nickie beamed when he spotted his ride home waiting for him. Amelia Benjamin waved to him and hurried over to greet Nickie.

“Welcome home,” Amelia joked, pulling Nickie in for a tight hug.

“It’s like you’re actually happy to see me,” Nickie replied, hugging her back. Pulling back after a moment, Nickie grinned and gestured between them. “Hey, I think I’m a full head taller than you now.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Amelia huffed, poking him in the gut. “Now, let’s get going.��

“And that’s all the warm welcome I get?” Nickie called teasingly as Amelia walked away, causing her to shoot him a playfully annoyed look over her shoulder. “You haven’t seen me in two years and that’s all that I get?”

“You’ll get to walk home if you don’t hurry up, Prince,” Amelia mocked Nickie, causing him to sour.

“Do you really have to call me that?”

“It’s your callsign,” Amelia reminded him, grinning because she knew how much he hated it when people from back home called him by his callsign. “You get called that every day. Now, come on. There’s probably traffic.”

Nickie and Amelia caught up on their drive to the Mitchell house about everything that happened since they last saw each other. They still regularly texted and emailed, since Nickie was all over the planet these days, but it had been a while since they actually were able to sit down and talk like old times. But it never took long for them to find their rhythm again.

“And we’re here,” Amelia called victoriously, putting the car into park in front of the Mitchell house.

“In one piece. Shocking,” Nickie replied, reaching for the door handle.

“You’re the one with the ticket on their record,” Amelia shot back, causing Nickie to groan.

“One time! When I was sixteen. It’s been ten years!”

“And we’ll still never let you forget it,” Amelia laughed, sliding out of her seat. “Come on. Before they hear your big mouth. Leave your bag.”

Nickie followed Amelia up the stairs of his childhood home but stuck a bit farther back. Amelia turned for the kitchen, waving to everyone. Maverick and Penny sat at the table, chatting, while Cora walked around the kitchen.

“Hey, I brought a friend. Is that okay?” Amelia asked, causing Cora to pick her head up.

“You know it is,” Cora assured Amelia with a kind smile. “Where are they?”

“Just behind me.”

Amelia stepped to the side and Nickie walked further into his childhood home and into the view of his mom. Cora let out a shrieky gasp before rushing forward to hug her baby boy. Nickie laughed and hugged his mom back, letting her cry and hold onto him for however long she wanted.

“You told me that you wouldn’t be home for three more months!” Cora complained, rocking Nickie back and forth.

“Well, something came up,” Nickie replied, causing Cora to pull away and hold him at arm’s length.

“What is it?”

“I’ll be temporarily stationed in North Island for a few weeks,” Nickie explained with a proud smile.

“Top Gun?” Maverick called from his place behind Cora. He stood back, letting his daughter thoroughly welcome her son home at first, but at the insinuation that Nickie made, he couldn’t help but step forward. “You made it to Top Gun?”

“As of two days ago,” Nickie stated, causing Cora to hold a hand to her mouth.

“Oh, Nickie, we’re so proud of you!”

Nickie accepted another bone crushing hug from his mom and then one from his grandfather, who still somehow barely had any gray hair, before glancing around the kitchen. Releasing his grandfather, Nickie looked in between Cora and Maverick.

“Where’s everyone else?”

“They just went out to grab something. They’ll be back any second,” Cora sniffled, still choked up from the surprise. “Maybe I should call them.”

“I’ll do it,” Maverick offered, knowing that Cora couldn’t keep her voice level right now.

Nickie moved to greet Penny and catch up with her briefly before another set of headlights pulled into the driveway. Nickie stepped back into the hallway, out of sight of the main door, and waited for the rest of his family to come in. Rooster, now retired and working a more traditional nine to five, opened the door and held it open. A little girl with light brown curls and stark green eyes stepped inside, immediately moving to greet Cora.

“Mommy, Daddy took forever,” Carly Bradshaw-Mitchell complained, causing Cora to laugh and bend down to her height.

“He did, did he?” Cora asked, glancing up at her husband of six years.

“Nothing wrong with being thorough,” Rooster replied, not seeing Nickie quite yet. “Why’s everyone standing around?”

“Just a surprise,” Cora explained, standing back up.

Rooster frowned, a bit confused, but his daughter turned her head and spotted someone standing in the hallway. She tilted her head to the side suspiciously before she let out a gasp when she realized who the man standing in the hall was.

“NICKIE!” she shrieked before racing forward.

“Hey, Princess,” Nickie greeted his little sister, scooping her up and into his arms. “I missed you.”

Carly wrapped her arms and legs around her older brother, whimpering a bit. She looked up to Nickie more than perhaps anyone else in her life. And even though he was absent a lot because of his job, they FaceTimed and talked all that they could. And Nickie always made time for her.

“I missed you too,” Carly mumbled into his shoulder, refusing to let go of him. “You’re not allowed to leave again.”

“I’m not?”

“Nope.”

“Well, can’t argue with that,” Nickie chuckled, giving her another squeeze.

Rooster slowly approached his son, not wanting to interrupt the moment between the siblings, but still desperately wanting to greet his son after so many months apart.

“What are you doing here?” Rooster asked softly, still in a bit of shock.

“To see me!” Carly called indignantly, causing everyone to laugh.

“And I got called up,” Nickie replied, turning to his dad. “To a little school down the road.”

“Top Gun? You made Top Gun?” Rooster breathed out, not shocked but still immensely surprised.

“I start in two days,” Nickie explained, nodding along.

“Holy shit.”

“Bradley!” Cora admonished, shooting him a look and pointing at Carly. “Your daughter is right there.”

“I know I just—holy Jesus, Nickie, we’re so proud of you!”

Rooster couldn’t help himself anymore and pulled both of his children into a tight hug. Carly was a bit squished between her dad and her brother, but she didn’t mind it too much. It was better than Nickie not being home at all. Nickie kept an arm on his sister but pulled his dad in with his other arm, having missed him too.

It killed Nickie to hold in that secret about Top Gun for two days from his family. And now that the secret was finally out, he couldn’t stop smiling.

“Oh, come, let’s eat. You must be starving!” Cora called, still wiping tears from her cheeks. “And tell us all about the last few months.”

Nickie sat at the table, surrounding by his family with his sister perched on his lap. After all, if he was Prince—the callsign that he received after they found out about just how many aviators that he had in his family tree and extended network—then his little sister was rightfully Princess. And princesses got whatever they wanted.

Maverick looked between Nickie, Rooster, Cora, and Carly, remembering days in the distant past when he thought that an image like this would never be a possibility. But he was so relieved that those days were long gone and now, the Bradshaw-Mitchell family could just relax.

“He made it to Top Gun. Can you believe it?” Maverick wondered silently, glancing out the window at the setting sun.

He’s named after me, Mav! Of course, he made it! Goose would have said in return.

God help us all. Another Mitchell at Top Gun, Ice would have replied.

Smiling to himself, Maverick turned back to his family and simply enjoyed the moment.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Thank you again to everyone for reading, commenting, and reblogging this story!!

Tags: @xoxabs88xox @eternallyvenus @mygyn @kmc1989 @thegoddessc @midnightmagpiemama @badasspizzalover @praline357 @oatmealisweird @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @abaker74 @avengersfan25 @yogabigooby @daisydaisygoose @sgt-barnesveins @angelbabyange @percysaidnever @artemissunn @indiestrashfire @kidd3ath @luv4kani @lt-spork @brooke-stinson

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #tgm #top gun #tgm fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster fanfic #rooster bradshaw #top gun rooster #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley rooster x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #rooster #rooster x oc #rooster top gun #pete mitchell #pete maverick mitchell

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mrghostrat · 3 months

Text

i appreciate all the kindness for my uni rejection, and anyone going through the same thing should def read through my replies if they need similar comfort. there’s a lot of “ATAR isn’t everything!” comments tho, which made me realise i haven’t actually talked much about my goals, so i wanted to share a little context.

i’m 30 (on the 17th). i took a gap year after high school and i went to uni at 19. i even dropped out a semester before graduating to pursue the one thing that was making me happy (my first original comic) during a really bad depression (undiagnosed adhd burnout). i got the last units and graduated a year later, a bachelor of game design.

haven’t used my degree once. i went into comics and freelance rather than games. but i also loved that degree and would do it all again, it was absolutely worth it.

i’ve been freelance and self sufficient for 6-7 years, and it’s fun and i’m proud of the things i’ve made, but i’m so tired. i’m specifically tired of having to work 7 different angles to make up one sufficient salary, and even if it ends up being temporary, i’d give anything for a 9-5. have someone else in charge for once.

got to the end of my rope last year and sat down to figure out what i like and what i’m good at. a Life Plan, yknow. i’ve always had an interest in teaching, helping, connecting like that. figured out degrees and became really invested in this new trajectory i pictured my life going on. i was also tired of waiting, because every time i wanted to move back to the city from this tiny town we’re in, somethings come up or delayed it. so zita helped me figure out how we could get the ball rolling and break our lease 3 months early, so we could move back to melbourne and i could start my degree this year. we looked for (and found) an apartment specifically on the side of the city that would be closest to my campus.

i hope that gives a lil context as to why i’m so devastated right now. the last 5 months have been me revving up to start this new chapter at the end of feb and one little email said nah.

the degree i wanted to do was a double degree, secondary education (hons) and a BA of fine arts. i was equally excited for both, because i never got to do a lot of actual art learning in my last degree, and the BA would give me all of that— life drawing, sculpting, painting, wood/metal/jewellery working, digital, fuckin everything. but it was the less important of the pair, when it comes to getting myself a job as an art teacher, because i already have the art experience. it was just a fun bonus, and the education degree was the one i NEEDED.

in nov i had to travel to melbourne to present a portfolio and interview for the BA. they showed me around the studio too, and i fell a little bit in love. i got the acceptance email in december, but i still didn’t have an offer for the education degree. another reason why i’m so discombobulated— i technically have an invitation, but it’s for the less important degree that would just be a money sink. do i go to uni anyway?? or just ignore this invitation and move on?

my state recently made education/teaching degrees free as a way of encouraging more teacher jobs. i learnt about this after i decided i wanted to pursue teaching, so it was just a fun lil bonus that i wouldn’t be adding to my student debt. apparently not, bc i didn’t think about how every teenager and their dog would apply for teaching degrees so they could get straight into uni without any debt. so, even tho i’m a graduate and i’m not relying on school scores, i was one in a million, likely just numbers on a page, and didn’t get in.

there could be other paths. i could start the BA and add the Edu degree later? i could reapply for mid year intake. i could… idk, most of what i could do requires emailing Monash and asking wtf, because i have no idea what’s actually possible and will need someone to lay it out for me.

still feels like i’ve run into a brick wall though. little bit shut down. more sad, not quite angry, but suddenly really spiteful for some reason— like “oh, you don’t want me? okay fuck you then, i won’t ever teach.” so stupid. just a bit fragile rn

#ghost scribbles

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kryptonitejelly · 2 years

Text

Flyboy (Part 5) | Jake Seresin x Reader Top Gun: Maverick - Jake Seresin x Reader Genre: romance; fluff; angst; best friends to lovers Warnings: tw: violence; tw: being hit on; tw: unwanted physical advances from some creep tw: suggestiveness (no outright smut, but nudity, touching, ass squeezing, etc - MINORS DNI) general hangman being hangman; sexual tension; general cursing; will contain mentions of a break up / previous relationship; general use of pet names; fem!reader; pining; general naval / flying inaccuracies. Length: Mini-series, chaptered - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Epilogue

Summary: Jake gets called back to TOPGUN the same time you’ve been granted a sabbatical from work. He invites you, his purely platonic best friend of years, to live with him for 6 months and you accept. Just two best friends kicking it back for 6 months in San Diego, Fightertown USA, right?

A/N: Aaaaand Part 5, before we move on to the last, and final Part 6 (and of course, the epilogue). I am super excited for Part 6 (because I literally have had the end to Part 6 written out for a while now) and the epilogue, but at the same time, I don’t want Flyboy to end :’( Work is going to be crazy in the coming week, so please be patient with me on Part 6! As usual, thank you all for your likes, comments and reblogs, so many of you are honestly so fucking sweet. I love you all, you guys have really motivated me to finish this mini-series <33 I can’t tell you how much I have enjoyed reading your comments, reblogs (esp the ones where ya’ll QUOTE????)

Also, yes, I know they aren’t a couple (but really, they are) - but just trust me please, it will all go somewhere.

Flyboy | Mini-Series Masterlist

(If you haven’t already seen them - blurbs and asks (one-shots coming soon) are also listed on the Flyboy masterlist!)

Flyboy - Part 5

PART 4 <<

Approximately 5.3k words

It is the loud ringing of an alarm, the persistent noise growing louder by the second, that pulls you from your sleep. As your mind adjusts to being awake, you recognise the alarm as Jake’s. You typically don’t wake up with Jake’s alarm, because unlike today, he usually manages to get to it immediately after the first ring.

You feel a dip in the mattress and hear a faint clatter as he shifts to swipe his phone off the bedside table. Jake silences the alarm, and you hear a quiet, barely audible sigh from him. The mattress dips for a second time as he arches his back to stretch himself out. The faint rustling of sheets follow and the trickle of cool air under the covers and the loss of warmth beside you tells you that he is about to slip out of bed for the day.

You don’t open your eyes, mind still hazed from sleep, but reach out blindly, fingers managing to curl around his forearm. You feel the muscles in his forearm flex in surprise as a response. Jake is not entirely sure if you are awake, or if this is a reflex of yours while you are asleep, and you feel the fingers from his other arm over yours, attempting to gentle uncurl your fingers from his arm.

“Don’t go.” You mumble without opening your eyes, voice soft, foggy from being half awake, but a clear indication to him that you are indeed not fully asleep. It earns you the quiet rumble of a chuckle, and fingers which skim across your face brushing hair back behind your ears as a thumb runs across your cheekbone.

“Go back to sleep.” His voice, coated with his own haze of sleep, is deeper than usual.

Jake stills, feeling your fingers loosen their hold against his arm, and your arm droop back onto the bed. He hears your breathing settle back into a steady pattern and slowly, silently, extracts himself while biting back another sigh, his second of the morning. The Navy had made Jake a morning person and waking up had not been an issue for him for years; since he had been in the Naval Academy, but the past three weeks of waking up to you had him strangely reluctant to leave you in the mornings, struggling to start his day.

Jake flicks the light switch to the bathroom on before cracking open the door. He turns, to glance back at the unmoving heap in his bed which the sliver of light from the bathroom falls on, hidden by the covers and existing within the ridiculous heap of pillows that you had moved from your bed to his, and slips into the bathroom to face his own reflection in the mirror, smiling back at him.

You wake up to a barrage of notifications on your phone.

Coyote: Why….

Fanboy: It was supposed to be fried chicken Friday :-( Fitch says to tell you he is sulking.

Rooster: Hangman told us to order chicken. It isn’t the same.

Bob: Have fun at dinner!

Payback: I’m sulking.

Tash: Dear lord, I have never seen a bunch of grown men so depressed over chicken.

Bob: But can we please have fried chicken Friday next week?

Tash: Who are you and Hangman meeting for dinner? He refuses to tell. Also, are we are still on for the beach tomorrow?

Rooster: Can we come for dinner?

Coyote: Consider my heart broken.

You find yourself equal parts amused and confused as you scroll through the individual notifications from each person. You had made fried chicken once in the almost 3 months since the group of you had been here, following the recipe you had learnt from Jake’s mother years ago during a break when you were both home from college, and it had the group floored. They had begged and wheedled for another round, which you had been reluctant to give in to, because the clean up from deep frying was always horrendous. However, after weeks of persistent pleading, you had finally succumbed and today had been designated as the long awaited fried chicken Friday.

Locating Jake’s name, you shoot off a text while still lying in bed.

Is fried chicken Friday cancelled?

Jake’s response is immediate.

J: Yes. I’m taking you out for dinner.

His response makes you smile, your heart flipping in your chest. Neither you nor Jake had discussed, or spoken more about what you both were since the beach football day, but unlike the build up between Annie’s wedding and that one fateful day, there was no longer a stretched out, building tension between you both. Instead, what existed was a mutual understanding which you both felt. You were his, and he was, undoubtedly yours. What you had both agreed on however, in words, was maintaining, or trying to maintain, the status quo with the people around you - it wasn’t hiding, just keeping what was yours, yours for a little longer.

You know that peanuts and beers at The Hard Deck does not count as dinner.

You send off your reply as a joke, only to have your phone buzz in response, Jake’s face flashing across your home screen.

“What kind of heathen do you think I am.” His voice comes across the line in an amused drawl and you can hear the sound of voices behind him fade as he walks away to find some semblance of privacy.

“The kind that brings a girl for peanuts and beers and calls it dinner.”

It earns you a bark of laughter, and you can almost picture the corners of his eyes creasing in amusement.

“I’ll be back at 6.30.”

“I’ll bring a bag for the shells.” You say, keeping your voice impassive. You can’t see across the phone line, but it makes Jake grin on the other end before he drops his voice.

“Darlin, I guarantee you that if any, you’ll only be having one type of nuts.”

You can hear the smirk tilting his lips even through the phone. It is clear that it is a joke, but you groan loudly at the incredibly bad sexualised innuendo, while making a face which Jake can hear through the line.

“God, you’re awful.” Your response only earns you a guffaw from him which rings loud and clear over the phone.

You find yourself sitting on your bed, covers intact, but devoid of any pillows, body wrapped in a towel, eyes staring into our open closet. You had moved yourself, all your pillows and a choice number of toiletries to Jake’s room and bathroom, but had kept the rest of your belongings, including your clothes, in your original room.

“Do I wear jeans?” You call out loudly, hoping that your voice manages to travel out of the door that is ajar, and down the hallway and to Jake, as you slide off the bed into a stand, to rifle through the garments hanging in your closet.

“Wear whatever you want.” You hear Jake’s voice call back and you can’t help but roll your eyes lightly.

“Do I wear a dress?” You try again, ignoring his answer. He hadn’t told you where you were both going, and you were probing, trying to get a sense of what would be an appropriate dress code. You don’t hear a response as you flick through the hangers, your mind focused on the rustle of fabric and scrape of hanger hooks against the metal pole in the closet.

“You could wear a potato sack, I’ll still take you out.” The sound of Jake’s voice in your ear, the feel of lips against your earlobe and the weight of his hands sneaking around your waist to pull you flush against his body causes you to jump in surprise.

“Are you trying to kill me.” You puff out, attempting to adopt a affronted tone, but your body betrays your words as you relax into his hold.

“Kill you?” Jake asks, in between trailing kisses down the column of your neck, and onto your bare shoulder. “Never.”

It had come as no surprise to you, because Jake had always been comfortable with physical touch with you even as friends, but being with Jake had showed you a whole new side to him, and also to himself. Whether it was running his fingers through your hair while you watched a show together, tugging you towards him before he fell asleep, having his lips on some part of you every chance his got, or subtly placing his hand on your thigh under the table whenever you were together with other people in a group - you (and he himself), had come to realise that Jake always wanted some part of you against him.

You feel his hand work his way in between the fold of your towel, dipping behind the material to come to rest on the skin of your stomach.

“Jake,” you warn, and you can feel his smile against your shoulder as his lips continue against your skin.

“What?” He asks innocently, but lets his hand dip down, grazing skin right above the waistband of your underwear. You feel his thumb swipe lazily along the front of your underwear and you shake your head slightly. Two could play at that game.

“Do that,” you say and twist in his arms. It forces him to move his head up, allowing you to plant your lips at the base of his neck to suck lightly at his skin, “and we won’t make dinner.” You tip toe, lips moving higher along his neck, the stretch of your body causing the towel around you to drop, leaving your body bare, and you in nothing but a thong.

The drop of the towel causes him to groan, allowing Jake to catch sight of you, lips against his neck, back bare, ass cheeks standing out against strip of white lace between them, in the dresser mirror across the room. He reaches his hands down, cupping your ass in his hands, as he allows your lips to continue their work against his neck, as your fingers slide along the inner waistband of his jeans.

“Keeping doing that,” he breathes out, voice slightly rough from the feeling of your lips on his neck, bare breasts, nipples hard and pressing against him, “and we definitely won’t make dinner.” He squeezes your ass cheeks in his palms, and you pull your lips away from his neck, letting your hands come to a rest on his chest. Jake looks down to meet your eyes, which are sparkling with a mischief usually seen in his own, before he feels you press a chaste kiss to his jaw.

“Can I get dressed now?” You ask, while reaching up to run a hand through his hair, causing it to fluff up slightly.

“Please.” Jake meets yours lips with his.

“But how could you have not read even one review.” You find yourself grinning from ear to ear as you shake your head ruefully.

“It said washable on the box in the picture,” he shrugs as he squeezes your hand, which he has interlaced with his, lightly as if to punctuate his point. “It also said ages 2 and up.”

“Did she make you buy a new chair?” You glance over at Jake, taking in his side profile, his outfit of a brown bomber jacket, grey tee and dark jeans making the dark blonde of his hair and green of his eyes pop even more than usual.

“She did,” he grimaces, “cost me a bloody fortune.”

“And did she throw the markers away.” You tease to which he nods, his expression as he recounts the whole situation he had been retelling - of him buying his niece ‘washable’ markers, which she had promptly used to decorate Jake’s older sister’s brand new white, designer, armchair - making you chuckle.

Jake had, true to his word, driven you both to the main city area, and brought you out for dinner. It had, undoubtedly been a nice change of pace, away from the group of aviators, and being amongst complete strangers which had allowed you both to just be yourselves, together. It had given you the freedom to tuck yourself under his arm and slide your hand into his back pocket while waiting for your table at the restaurant, allowed him the liberty to slide his fingers together with yours as you walked down the street, and raised the opportunity for him to freely press numerous kisses to your temple, forehead, lips and jaw in public over the course of the evening. The conversation between you both was the same as it had always been, circling everything and anything. Being together in other ways hadn’t changed that.

“Immediately,” he responds. You open your mouth to speak, when a tap on your shoulder interrupts.

“Excuse me, I was wondering if you both could help me and my husband with a picture?”

You both turn to find yourselves face to face with an older couple on their 50’s.

“Sure,” you respond and Jake lets go of your hand as you receive the phone from the lady. “Just against there?” You point towards her husband, who is standing in front of a small restaurant that looks old, but quaintly so.

“That would be great,” she flashes you a wide smile, before hurrying across to come to a stand beside her husband. You wait for them to position themselves, she sliding her arm around her husband’s waist, and he, his arm around her shoulders, their heads both tilted together. You raise her phone, with a count, and snap a series of photos, Jake standing behind you, his hand positioned lightly against the small of your back.

“All done,” you call out, and the older couple walks towards you. You hand her back her phone, allowing them the time to flip through the pictures, ensuring that they are satisfied.

“They are fantastic, thank you.” The couple beams at you both.

“Special day?” Jake asks, conversationally, and the older man nods.

“It’s our 30th anniversary,” he says, and throws a fond look which his wife meets with equal emotion, “we met here,” he gestures behind towards the restaurant, “30 years ago.”

“That’s impressive,” Jake returns, his words referencing to both the length of their relationship, as well as the restaurant that has remained standing, as both your gazes dart towards the restaurant before going back to the older couple.

“Well,” the older lady laughs, as she tucks her phone back into her bag, before sliding her arm through the nook of her husband’s elbow. “I’m sure you and your wife will make it to 30 years as well.”

She winks, and you feel your face heat. You open your mouth to correct her, only to find Jake sliding his hand back into yours. You turn your head towards him, only to find a smile on his lips.

“M’am,” he drawls, tipping his head at the older lady “I can’t wait.” Jake presses the back of your hand to his lips, not bothering to correct her, before throwing a glance at you, and your heart fills with a warmth, while you meet his glance in a curious wonderment. You hadn’t had any doubt that what was between you and Jake, what this was, was serious, real, despite neither of you having voiced it out - but hearing him say it out loud, not even directly, and so casually as if it were a second nature to him, had your heart doing olympic level somersaults in your chest and your brain turning into mush. You are pretty sure you’ve forgotten how to speak.

Jake feels yours eyes focused on him as he drives you both back home. He knows that you think you are being subtle about it, but given that you are lost in your thoughts, you most certainly are not.

“Sweetheart,” he says conversationally, pulling you gently out of your thoughts, “it’s rude to stare.” He reaches over with his right hand to gently squeeze your jean clad thigh, keeping his left hand and gaze on the road.

“When?” You ask him, while simultaneously letting your left hand fall onto his right. Jake flips his palm skywards, catching your fingers in his larger ones, his thumb stroking the back of your fingers lightly.

Jake knows what you are asking even without you having to use too many words; when did your feelings begin?

“Astutely, 6 months before your break up with Dan,” he starts, thumb still stroking against against the back of your fingers as he pauses, “less so since you told me you had started seeing him.” Jake turns to glance at you, as he comes to a stop at a red light. “Maybe, unknowingly, sometime around the last year of high school.”

His confession hits you hard, catches you by surprise, and Jake feels your shock through the grip of your fingers around his. He squeezes back instinctively, offering your reassurance, focusing his gaze on the front of the road as the light flashes back to green.

You stay silent, and he lets you, until the car rolls to a stop in front of another red.

“First year of college, Christmas break.” You say softly, and it’s Jake’s turn to stare at you, dumbfounded, and in complete surprise, his fingers falling lax against your hand. It’s your turn to squeeze his hand, holding it tight in yours.

He recovers, glancing at the rear review mirror, noting that there are no cars, before shifting the car’s gear into park, and jabbing on the hazard light. Jake reaches over the center console, his right hand firm, but gentle, cupping the side of your face and pulling you to him. He stares deep into your eyes, your noses bumping against each other, before he captures your lips with his. This kiss is deep, bruising, but unhurried, and you let him lead you, a sense of calm and peace washing over the both of you, the same question in his mind, mirrored in yours - why the hell, did you both wait so long?

“I’m leaving,” you call out, while pulling a chilled bottle of water from the fridge and throwing it into the bag you have slung over your shoulder. You hear the beep of a car horn and chime of your phone, signalling Phoenix's arrival to pick you up.

You are beside the door, hand on the frame, tugging on your sandals when you feel Jake’s hand on your elbow, tugging you around. He smells like a combination of aftershave and soap.

“Don’t burn,” he orders you, as he brushes his lips against yours in a quick kiss.

“You’re bossy,” you say, as you run a hand through his hair, which is still half damp from his shower. You are about to reach up to kiss again him, when Phoenix beeps the horn again, this time longer, and louder.

“Patience is not her strong suit.” Jake says, and you see him roll his eyes. You unlock the door and push down on the handle, stepping out into the sun, hand raised in a wave towards Tash whose hand is hovering above the horn, ready to beep it again.

“I’ll see you at The Hard Deck tonight. Have fun at golf with Javy and Rooster!” You call over your shoulder, managing to catch him shaking his head openly at Tash, judgement on his face. It earns him another beep of her horn, and you turn towards Tash just in time to see her flip Jake off before he shuts the door. It makes you laugh.

“He’s hot,” you hear Tash say as you both lie flat on your fronts, the last rays of the evening sun on your backs.

“He’s no Rooster though.” You tease, and she flushes pink.

“Not for me,” she deflects, as she slides her shades down the bridge of her nose, “for you.”

“I’m good Tash.” You laugh, as you turn your attention back to the book in front of you, flipping a page over.

“Come on, don’t you want a vacation fling.”

“Not particularly.”

“He’s coming,” she hisses and you look up just in time to see the man she was talking about, tanned, tall, dark sandy brown hair, approaches.

“My friends and I were going to go in there for a drink, care to join us?” He gestures to his group of 3 friends before pointing towards The Hard Deck.

“We -” Tash starts, and you cut in immediately.

“- are meeting some friends.” You smile, apologetically up at him, your own shades covering your eyes.

“Friends?” The beach stranger asks, with a small laugh, while tilting his head to a side, “or boyfriends?”

“Friends.” Tash affirms for you before you can get a word out. “How about we catch you inside.”

“Sounds good,” he flashes you both a wide smile, and thumbs up, “I’m Paul.” He says, before jogging back to his friends.

“Tash,” you start, only to have her press a finger to your lips.

“Nu-uh, I’m doing this for you, you’ll thank me.”

“You guys should come with us the next time.” Coyote tips the mug of beer to his lips.

“You can see Bradshaw make a fool of himself first hand.” Jake chimes in, tone smug and slightly mocking, his words directed at the table, from beside you, his ankle leaning casually, against yours under the table the group is seated at.

“No thanks,” Phoenix snorts as she pops a fry into her mouth. “Golf seems boring. Besides,” she dusts her hands off before propping her elbows on the table and pointing towards you, “we had an arguably more fruitful day than the lot of you.”

“Fruitful?” It’s Fanboy who asks, his head swivelling from Phoenix to you.

“Did you kill someone Trace,” Payback jokes, to a laugh from Bob.

“Little miss here,” she points at you, while wagging her eyebrows, “had the attention of Paul there.” She jabs a thumb over her shoulder in an outright manner, causing the table of aviators around you to carne their heads to stare across the room over at Paul and his friends, before she finishes her sentence “on her the entire afternoon.”

You feel Jake glance at you, brow slightly raised, but expression otherwise unreadable.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” you huff, as you take a sip of your beer.

“He was staring at her the whole afternoon,” Tash continues, much to your dismay and you can almost feel Jake bristling slightly beside you. “He introduced himself, and asked us to meet him in here.”

“I didn’t say anything, you said said yes.” You retort, shooting back at her, while you cross one leg over the other under the table to slide your foot up Jake’s calf in an attempt at reassurance.

“The. Whole. Afternoon.” Tash repeats, emphasis each words with a rap of her knuckles on the table.

“You. Are. Crazy.” You rap your knuckles against the table in imitation of her, and it earns you a round of laugher from the table, including from Tash herself. “I’m going to get another drink.” You say aloud, to no one in particular as you stand, pushing back your chair, your clear attempt at avoiding Tash’s persistent attempt to make the conversation about you and Paul.

You lean against the bar counter, catching Penny’s eye. She throws you an apologetic look, from across the hectic bar, and you shake your head, letting her know it’s fine and you’ll wait and give her a thumbs up. You twirl your card around in your fingers, tapping the plastic against the counter along with the beat of the music playing from the jukebox when you feel a hand on your shoulder, and a body close to yours, effectively caging you in against the bar counter. You want to think it Jake, but the scent of the cologne pervading your senses tells you that it’s not.

You manage to flip around, your back pressed tight against the bar counter, the edge of the wood pressing into your skin, to come face to face with Paul. The scent of alcohol hits you as he exhales, and a look at his eyes, which are glassy and unfocused, tells you that he has had too much to drink.

“Hey,” he starts, and you can hear that his speech is slurred, “what took you so long. Your friend said you guys would be in here.”

You try to side step your way out, but he leans forward, his hands grabbing onto the bar counter on either side of you, firmly trapping you.

“I need to get back to my friends.” You say, voice firm, as you cross your hands over your chest in defence.

“Sugar,” he starts, and you cringe outrightly at the term, “forget about your friends, you’re here with Paul now.” He leers openly at you, his gaze dipping below your neck, tracing its way down the sundress which you had thrown over your two piece as a cover up.

“Let me out.” You unfold your arms, to push against his shoulder, attempting to force your way out. He doesn’t budge, but chooses instead to grip your upper arm, his fingers digging into your flesh.

“Come on now,” he slurs, his fingers bruising into your skin, “why are you playing hard to get now.” He moves his other hand from the counter to run a knuckle down the side of your face, causing you to shudder openly at the contact of his skin with yours. “You and you little friend were lying on that beach the whole afternoon in those small little swimsuits.”

His words make you roll your eyes, anger rising in you.

“It’s a fucking beach Paul.” You shake your head, hitting his hand away from your face. It enrages him, and you see his eyes harden as his hand that is on your upper arm presses more firmly into your skin.

“You little-” He begins to say, and you brace yourself, ready to face him head on, when you see a familiar hand land on his shoulder. Paul stumbles backward as the hand on his shoulder yanks him away from you.

“Stay the fuck away from her.” Jake steps in front of you, putting himself between you and Paul, who has stumbled forward in attempt to regain his balance.

“Who the hell are you.” Paul spits out, but Jake doesn’t budge.

“Get the fuck out of this bar.” Jake says, and you can hear the anger burning in his tone. It’s an anger you have heard many times in your life, particularly so when you both had been young, and Jake had been alot more rash, and less collected than he was now.

“Or what?” Paul challenges, drawing himself up, to his full height, but Jake stands firm in front of you, unfazed as the taller of the two.

“Or,” Jake begins, and you hear a dangerous iciness to his tone that has started to interlace itself with his anger. You glance down, and see his fist balled tight, knuckles white. “I’ll make you sorry for ever touching my girl.” His voice is dangerous quiet, and low enough that only you, him and Paul can hear it.

You see the group of aviators now alerted to the commotion, and picking their way towards the three of you from your left, and Paul’s friends, who you decide look much more sober than he does, rushing over from your right. His friends reach him first, pulling him back just as Paul makes to raise his fist, and Rooster squares himself firmly beside Jake, the two men blocking you from view.

“Leave.” You hear Penny say, her tone cool, hard, angry as well, from behind the counter, and the bar, which has turned collectively to observe, watches, silently, as Paul’s friends drag him and themselves out the door.

“You okay?” You feel Penny’s hand on your shoulder, and Rooster’s concerned glance at you.

“I’m ok,” you say, throwing them each a smile, and Rooster nods, his gaze shifting from Jake, who has turned to face both you and Penny, his lips still pressed into a tight line, eyes still clouded with anger. Rooster tilts his head ever so slightly towards Jake, and you tip your head an inch down in a nod. You see him exchange a look with Penny, before both him and Penny back away, her back to the other side of the bar, which has once again started to bustle with noise as if nothing had happened; and Rooster, to gather the group that had managed to make their way halfway over to you, back to their corner, giving you space to deal with Jake.

“Jake.” You call his name, as you reach down to grab his fist, which is still balled up tightly and hanging by his side. He moves his gaze down to look at you, but the anger doesn’t dissipate.

“Jake,” you try again, fingers massaging against the skin of his balled up fist. “I’m fine.” You say and you see his gaze flick immediately to your arm.

“I should have punched that motherfucker.” He seethes, and you move your hand up to grab his wrist instead, squeezing firmly.

“I’m fine.” You emphasise again. You see his gaze begin to soften, and you move your hand up to his waist, your hand darting under his shirt, fingers squeezing lightly against his skin. It does the trick, and you hear a deep exhale from him as his anger begins to ebb away. “Let’s go home?” You ask, your bag already stowed away in his truck.

Jake nods, your last word pulling him back fully.

You both throw a wave at the group of aviators who have returned to their corner, receiving nods of understanding and waves in return, and you tug Jake out of the bar, your hand low and out of their sight, but your fingers interlocked loosely with his, as Jake follows behind you.

He comes to a stop in front of his truck, pausing before he unlocks the door.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner.” He says, and it makes you frown.

“Jake,” your tone is disapproving, chastising, as you reach out to slide your hands around his midsection. “I can take care of myself, and you were there plenty soon.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut in with a firm “no”. There is a moment of silence, where Jake’s shoulders tense up, but you rub a hand against his back, pressing your cheek to his chest, grounding him, and he lets the tension go, choosing instead to wrap his arms around you.

You both don’t notice Penny watching with a small smile on her lips from behind the bar, looking out of the window as Jake folds into your touch and you mould yourself into him.

“Didn’t know they were together.”

Penny holds her arms over her chest as the bartender, Harry, comes to stand beside her, both watching as you both pull away from each other.

“They aren’t,” she respond, she and Harry watching as Jake says something to which you respond by punching him lightly on the shoulder, attempting to turn away, only for him to laugh before he catches you by the waist and connect his lips to yours.

“Sure looks like they are.”

Penny watches as you fall into the kiss, fully, wholly, completely, despite it being short before pulling away.

“Not officially” she says as Jake opens the door of his truck for you, letting you step up and in, before reaching over to buckle you in, both of you joking with each other, every single ounce of tension and anger from earlier gone, eyes twinkling in the faint glow of the street lamp towering overhead, “but they are.”

Penny had seen plenty of fights in The Hard Deck, and she had seen one too many involving Jake Seresin - but what she had never seen was him, or any man who threw a punch or came close in this bar, for that matter, let go of his anger as quickly as Jake had because of you

“They don’t need to be, to be, huh.” Harry asks as he slings the dishcloth in his hands over a shoulder.

“They’ve always been.” Penny mutters simply as she watches Jake shut your door and jog over to the driver’s side.

>> PART 6

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justjams2003 · 3 months

Text

Fast Pace- 15

I'd just like to thank @multi-universe21 for the Spanish Translations for these last two chapters.

The last one guys! This is the very last chapter! I can't believe it. I've been putting off posting this all day, because I'm so sad that this is over now :( Keep in mind, my request are always open. And I'll miss all you pookies so much 🫶. Follow if you'll miss me too, or don't. 🫶

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smut (Actually this time!!), sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', nudity, i guess Instagram posts?? Angst! Lots of it! Tell me if I missed any

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae @hangmandruigandmav @therealone4r @keii134 @dark-night-sky-99 @jax-the-oregonian @hachrinnen @formulaal tjdjindahouse

Word count: 4.3k

Masterlist

Part 14

Y/N'susername 12 January 2024

Liked by CarlosSainz55, Charles_Leclerc, Alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes, LandoNorris and 1,647,903 more Some might say it’s too fast, but you and I have always loved a fast pace. Tagged: CarlosSainz55 Comments: CarlosSainz55: So obsessed with you. I love you so much. <3

Charles_Leclerc: So happy for you two <3

Alexandrasaintleux: You’re gonna be a Sainz before the end of the year!

LandoNorris: Well done, @CarlosSainz55, you found someone who will put up with you like I do…where’s my proposal? CarlosSainz55: You’re not as pretty as her. 🤷 LandoNorris: A dagger to the heart😭

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Y/N'susername 6 March 2024

Liked by CarlosSainz55, Alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes and 198, 379 more Working hard or hardly working? The first option. Tagged: Francisa.cgomes and CarlosSainz55 Comments:

CarlosSainz55: Missing you so much already, mi futura esposa. Y/N’susername: I haven’t been this far away from you since we met😭

Francisca.cgomes: Already having so much fun with you!

Francisca.cgnomes: @CarlosSainz55, you’re all she talks about ✋ Y/N’susername: Nooo, don’t expose me😭

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The cold air hits your face, you don’t remember Paris being this cold. It doesn’t help that the dress you’re being fitted with doesn’t do much for heat. You pull the coat you’d been given closer to your body. It’s luckily big, Dior doesn’t want any paparazzi seeing their opening outfit.

You’re exhausted, it’s two days before fashion week starts. You’ve been pulled into a million places, auditions, fittings, rehearsals and everything in between. The cold air makes you crave a cigarette so badly. Not only that, you miss Carlos more than anything. You haven’t seen him in a month. You call almost every night, but it still isn’t enough. When he’s busy, you’ll play the Ferrari video again. He isn’t himself, but it is close enough.

You can hear someone calling your name but assume that it’s the same people who have been calling you all day. That is of course, until someone grabs you from behind and turns you around to face them.

Your fight or flight kick in before you can even see who it is. Your arms flail and your legs kick in all different directions. Not really caring for the pins stabbing into your side. Where are Otis and Brutis when you truly need them?

“Y/N, Y/N! C'est moi! C’est moi!” You know that voice, you know that accent, you know these strong arms. Your kicking stops, but your screaming doesn’t. “Bérenger! Let go of me, you fucker!” He does, he drops you right as you are. You don’t even turn to him, your bare feet hit the pavement with some speed. Before you can even open the door again, he stops you once more.

He calls you again, but this time you turn to him with fury. “Don’t you remember? I’m a whore, and a slut who sleeps with pedos?” You can see your brother bite the inside of his cheek. “What? You were so opinionated when Jean was disowning me! Now, you have nothing to say?” You scoff at his utter silence, but it doesn’t last long.

“Nothing I say will make you believe me, so I’ll just show you.” He pulls out a phone and shows you an image. “What the fuck is this?” He sighs at you refusing to even look at his phone. “It’s a picture of Carlos at the restaurant where you worked, three months before you actually met.” You trusted him, just as you had trusted Jas and Ilsa and told him everything.

Now you regret it more than anything. You look, and you recognised those booth seats and plates, you’d seen them so many times before. You shrug, “May be, but it could be chalked up to coincidence. What are you even trying to say?” His jaw locks and then he swipes to the right, then again and again and then he hands you the phone telling you to do the same.

“Bérenger, what am I looking at?” He still looks on edge but continues to explain. “I hired a private detective. He found this on Carlos’ cloud.” Now you laugh at him, “That’s not possible. I’ve looked at Carlos’ pictures before, and I’ve never seen these photos before.” You go to leave, thinking he’s just lying to hurt you again.

“His phone, yes! But not his laptop, not his PC, and not his cloud.” It’s true, yes. “What would these photos even mean?” You cross your arms, finally allowing him to speak. “He’s been stalking you, can’t you see? Months before you even met and he has hundreds of photos of you!”

This catches your attention. You sigh, and shake your head, trying to make sense of what he is saying. “Please, Y/N, you’re my sister. All our siblings missed you so much over Christmas. The girls were so excited to see you got engaged and couldn’t believe their ears when I told them what happened.”

This hits you in the stomach. It has to be wrong. He has to be lying. Or else your whole world will truly become crumbling down. More than ever before. “Is, is that all?” He shakes his head repeatedly.

“No, no there’s so much more.” How could there ever possibly be more than stalking? “I have to go, but I have just one day off tomorrow before a hectic week. Here’s my hotel room, we’ll talk.”

Your heart is racing in your ears, you don’t really listen to the people talking to you. You just sit in the makeup chair, trying to keep your stomach from twisting and turning. It has to all be lies, right? He must just be trying to get in your head, to hurt you even more. But, if you truly believed that it's all lies, why would have you agreed to meeting him?

The ringing hits your ear, not panic ringing but your phone. Your hands shake seeing Carlos’ name on your phone. For a fact, you know that if you don’t answer, he is going to worry all day. You don’t want that, he’s your fiancé! But, does he really love you or are his jokes more the truth. Each time he tells you he’s obsessed with you, flies through your mind.

Was he being honest with you? Waiting for you to realise? You turn airplane mode on and the phone goes quiet.

Then there’s also the option of your brother lying. After all, he didn’t defend you that night. He didn’t leave with you when your parents kicked you out. In fact, he made it even worse. He called you and Carlos horrible names and haven’t tried to reach out.

Now you wish Kika was with you on this Dior shoot to help you think all this out.

“You have 10 minutes because 10 minutes is all you gave me.” You both sit down on the balcony of your hotel room. You show him the 10-minute timer on your phone and as soon as the clock starts ticking he begins talking. “I don’t need ten minutes. I can tell you all you need to know now.” You don’t say a word, allowing him to continue.

“Carlos paid us a million euros to disown you.”

He doesn’t even say another word, clearly he can see you spinning. “What?” He nods and then pulls out his phone. Your eyes don’t deceive you. Nothing is truer than the image of your parents sitting on the porch of their new mansion. Bright smiles are on their faces. He swipes to the next photo and you see your siblings being spoiled with lavish gifts.

Now you’re glad that you’re sitting down. Your heart rate has skyrocketed, and you can’t help but look around at everything you now own. The million-euro ring on your finger feels much heavier than ever before. Suddenly you feel exhausted, and a throbbing headache makes itself known. Your throat is dry and your eyes burn with tears.

“No, no, this…this is edited. It must be.” The sun feels too bright and your chest feels too tight. What else is left for you, if you don’t have Carlos? Yes, you have Kika and Alex, but if you lose Carlos you lose them too.

You’ve kicked your friends out of your life. You don’t have your family anymore. He’s it. Carlos is the only real stable person in your life. His family, his friends, they’re the only people you have.

Your brother panics, he pours you a glass of water and you swallow it with one big gulp. What’s even worse than having no one but him, is you realise that that is what he wanted. He wanted himself to be the only one in your life. For you to be isolated and depend on him and only him. He’s used his influence and his money to remove your friends, your family, your job and your person.

“Ilsa? Jasmine? Did he…?” Bérenger nods before you can even finish your sentence. It confirms your thoughts. “There’s more…” he pours you another glass of water. “He planned your meeting. We searched and we couldn’t find a single article of any mob or crazy fans that whole day. We looked in further… and found out that he paid your old boss to make sure you ended up in that ally on that day.”

What?

He's obsessed. He's crazy.

Then the contract enters your mind. NDA. Non-disclosure agreement. Is this why he had you sign it? You thought it was just a safety concern for Ferrari. To make sure they don’t lose any sponsors or something like that. Now you see it’s to protect himself. All just to make sure you don’t say a word. Because if this gets out, he’ll lose everything. He’d be in an even worse position than you.

“Bérenger. You need to leave.” His brows furrow together. “I have photos of that too if you don’t believe me. Recordings, audios, you name it.” You shake your head.

“No, no. I signed an NDA. You aren’t allowed to know any of this. He could sue you into oblivion. He could…” Memories of him saying he’d have people fired. The look in his eye when he would tell you what would happen.

He doesn’t move. “No, no. You’re my sister. He can sue me all he wants.” You shake your head, over and over. Standing up on your wobbly legs. Trying to push his huge body from the seat. “He’ll do worse. Much worse, I’m sure.” His eyes go big at your reaction. “Leave. Now.” He sighs and then takes your phone and puts in his new number.

“If you need me. For anything. Message me, call me.” You can only nod. “Be careful. Don’t let the guards see you looking anything but normal.” Then you realise, they’d likely already told Carlos that Bérenger has visited. “Turn your location off. Don’t use the same road twice. His reach is far. Be careful.”

Your mind is reeling. Should you call him or wait for him to call you? If he does call you, should you lie? Pretend you don’t know anything and then buy a plane ticket with your own money? How would you even get to the airport without the guards? If you leave now, you’ll lose all your modelling jobs. Everything you’d been working hard for. Your dreams, you’d be throwing your dreams down the drain.

The phone rings, and you see his name on your screen. Your hands shake as you answer the phone. You don’t hear anything and can’t even speak. “¿Mi amor?” He asks through the phone, sounding just so innocent. ‘My love’. Are you really his love or just something he owns? Like some watch he’s crazy about.

You go to speak, but your throat fails you. Sobs echo through the hotel room. “Y/N? Are you okay? What’s going on? Talk to me.” Your tears become more, he was so perfect. Too perfect. “What did you do?” Your voice is just above a whisper but you can hear him shift on the other end.

He chuckles, thinking it’s some sort of prank. “What are you talking about? Don’t mess with me now. You didn’t call me back yesterday. I was worried sick.” Each of his words are like knifes into your heart. “Bérenger told me everything.” It’s such a struggle to even speak. “And you believe him?” He doesn’t even ask what Bérenger told you. It just confirms it more to you.

“He showed me the photos, Carlos.” You can hear him curse in Spanish on the other side. “Carlos, I loved you, how could you do this to me?” You pull your legs close to your chest, some sort of protection. It doesn’t stop your heart pounding. “And you still do. You still love me, don’t you mi amor? You told me, I’d never get in trouble with you.”

You scoff at his pleas. “That’s before I found out that you paid my parents to disown me!” He scoffs the same as you had. “You say that as if you loved them because they didn’t love you. Think about it, mi amor, they took the money, didn’t they? If they loved you they would’ve kicked me out there and then. But they didn’t.”

He’s right. Who would be so evil as to give up their own daughter, just like that? Clearly, you never really meant much to them. Why are you caring now? He must sense you coming to this realisation.

“I did it for you. I hate the way they made you feel. Weren’t they so cruel? They would hurt you over and over and I couldn’t stand it. Shouldn’t my love be a good enough reason?”

Another cry courses through you. It’s quiet for quite a bit, just the sound of your crying. You can hear the shuffling before he speaks. “We’re hoping on the plane now. Don’t go anywhere.” This just makes your cries worse. “No, no, please. You can keep everything. The car, the jewels, the clothes anything. Just, please don’t hurt me. Or my family.”

You can hear his footsteps stop. “No, no, mi amor. You know I’d never hurt you. Don’t you?” You don’t say anything, you can’t. You’re shaking and your cries become too much. “Don’t do anything rash. We’ll be there tomorrow.” You throw the phone across the bed, wanting to be as far away as possible from it.

Without even thinking, you throw open the door and face your bodyguards. They don’t even turn to you. “Who are you two loyal to? Me or Carlos?” They don’t say anything, like always. You pluck on Otis’ sleeve, he’s shorter and you’ve him smile…once but once is enough for you to reach out. “If Carlos comes for me, trying to take me, who will you go with?”

You can see him gulp and his face soften. “Carlos will not hurt you.” His words are soft and it’s the first time either of them has spoken of you. You scoff and jump on the balls of your feet.

“Answer the question.” You can see he bites his tongue. “We are paid to protect you, from everyone. But also to report everything you do to Carlos.” It’s Brutis who speaks, you both seem shocked.

“Thank you,” it’s all you say before closing the door. You grab your phone again and call your assistant slash publicist slash just about everything. “Y/N, hello beautiful, what can I do for you?” Her voice is always chirpy but it quickly changes when you ask her what would happen if you didn’t show up to any of your shows.

She chuckles, clearly incredibly nervous by your sudden change of heart. “You’d be blacklisted. Not showing up to Dior? As the opener? Yeah, word will spread and you won’t get another runway job again. Why do you ask?” You can hear her panic about her job. “I signed an NDA.” It’s all you say, you don’t want anyone else’s life being ruined.

You sit back down on the bed. Now you need to think clearly. Why exactly is your brother telling you all this? It can’t be to protect you, because if that was the case then he would’ve done exactly as Carlos said. If he really did care about you, he would’ve tried harder.

Bérenger would’ve told him no, beat Carlos’ ass. But he didn’t, so clearly he doesn’t care too much about you.

So why did he bring this to you? Why else but to hurt you and your relationship. Force a break between you and Carlos. To make sure to ruin your connection with him, so that you’d lose the love of your life. Not only that, but you lose everything. Your new family, the Sainz, your new friends, Alex and Kika, and your career.

You’ve dreamed of tomorrow all your life. To walk down that runway, with all those cameras flashing and people screaming. Your wildest dream was walking for someone like Dior. As a little child, you’d wear your mother’s clothes and put on a little runway show for your siblings. It was one of the few times they’d show some sort of interest.

When you were cooking, you’d always imagine being on a show. Explaining in great detail what you're making and people would love it. People would love you. That’s what you’ve always wanted if you really think about it. To be adored and obsessed over. And that’s what Carlos has given you. He’s given you a world where this is a reality.

You peek behind the curtain and look at all those seats. Then you look at the window outside and see the incredibly long line of people. Much more than the seats put out. An hour. One whole hour before you walk the runway for the very first time. Now just any runway, the Christian Dior runway.

Yes, you spend weeks practising your model walk. You’ve rehearsed this runway three times now. Your outfit is perfect, your hair is perfect, all you’re waiting for now is makeup, jewellery and touch ups. But you can feel your heart in your ears. Yes, you’ve wanted this all your life but now that it’s here, you feel like throwing up.

All those people, watching your every move. They’ll know if you’re breathing too heavily, if you're walking too fast, you’re certain that they can smell fear. And boy are you scared. What if you slip and fall. Then again, Naomi Campbell fell on the runway and that became an iconic moment. But are you as iconic as her? Could you ever live up to her?

What if you sneeze and the whole dress bursts open? What if the dress just falls apart as you walk, leaving you naked for everyone to see? You’d be the laughingstock of the model world. Never again seen on the runway, doomed to forever be remembered as the girl whose dress fell apart. Or the girl who was far too unprofessional for the runway.

“Are you okay?” The makeup artist’s voice snaps you out of your hyperventilation. Your thoughts are torn between two very important things. But really they come together for one big thing, your future. And one question affects both things. Do you still want to be with Carlos? “Yeah, sorry. My mind is just all over the place. Very nervous, my first show.” You shrug and she smiles.

“What usually helps when you're nervous?” His name instantly pops into your mind. “My fiancé. He’s always been my rock.” There hasn’t been a moment since you met him that he hasn’t been there for you. If that’s due to an obsession or love, does it really matter? What really is the difference? What if love isn’t enough for you?

Your parents claimed to love you. Your friends claimed to love you. You claimed to love your job. But all three of those are lost at just the mention of money. Not Carlos. To him, money wasn’t even an object. He didn’t care if you got your new shoes dirty or never wore something his money bought. Because to him, there’s always more money but not more of you.

“Speaking of…” the make-up artist’s eyes glance to one of the side entrances. His hair is always something you notice first. You hope he never loses it, even if he goes completely grey. Then it’s the crinkle in his brow, he’s always so worried. Then the way his eyes scan the room, always looking for you. It’s not that he always wants you by his side, it’s just that he wants you safe.

He’s by your side before you can even blink. His hands fit into yours, and like always you reach for the other. “Mi amor, please let me explain.” He’s down on his knees, opening himself up to vulnerability. So many people here could take a photo at any time. But he doesn’t care, he just thinks about you and keeping you.

“Carlos, I can’t do this.” His eyes go big and he shakes his head. “No, no please mi amor. I love you, I can’t lose you. I know some actions to protect you might have been a bit… unorthodox but it all came out of love.” You chuckle and kiss his forehead. “I know and you’re right. Good riddance, I mean. If they gave me up that easily, for that little amount, then I’m better off without them.”

His face lights up and he gives you his charming smile. “You mean it?” You nod and smile, “What I can’t do, is this show. Ask Ava here, I’ve been hyperventilating this whole time. I’m sure she’s so annoyed with me.” The girl gives an uncomfortable chuckle, likely more worried about her job than yours.

He stands up and rubs your shoulders. “Don’t worry, handle it like you do the paparazzi. Because you handle it better than any celebrity that I’ve ever seen.” He holds back your hair, keeping it out of Ava’s way, still gentle enough not to ruin the style. You laugh, it feels like so long ago now, your first real encounter with fans.

“Will you be watching?” “Of course, imagine it’s just me in the audience. Just you and me.”

“Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro Junior, ¡ven aquí ahora mismo o llamaré a tu padre! Quieres decepcionar a papá? Porque si lo haces no podrás venir más a las carreras.” I can’t help but laugh, hearing my wife scold my eldest.

He’s likely run off again trying to find me or Lando or even Charles. It’s nice to hear her speak Spanish. As soon as we found out she was pregnant, she began learning immediately. And she picked it up quick.

“I am shaking in my boots.” Her eyes shine seeing me. Clearly, she’s tired, but still, she is glowing. “Papa!” The little man runs up to me at full speed. His Ferrari shirt is still too big for him at four. But he does insist he’s a big many and doesn’t need the baby sizes. “Are you being naughty? Didn’t I say we must always listen to Mama?”

His wide smile falls, “I’m sorry, papa,” I hate seeing him upset like this. But he does need to know that what she says goes. “You know what they say, happy wife happy life.” Charles comes up behind me, tickling Junior making him cry out in giggles. He then greets Y/N and picks up one of the twins. Also tickling his feet as the other is as always perched on my wife’s hip.

“Aw man, this is why I love the Spanish GP so much,” Charles comments and I can hear my beautiful wife laugh again. “What? To admire my family?” He nods with a smile, “You know it.” I can’t help but shake my head. “Ai, no, get your own.” Charles just rolls his eyes at my shenanigans before he is called away.

I place Junior down, telling him to sit tight. I then bend down and rub her swollen belly. “How are you, mi amor? How is our girl treating you?” She sighs and her fingers find my hair.

“She’s much nicer to me than these two were. But you know how it is when we get to the eight month mark.” I coo and kiss her head. I love seeing her swollen like this. Hands full with our children, in the role I have chosen for her.

“What’s on your mind?” She’s so warm and I just can’t keep anything from her. When she wasn’t pregnant it was hard to say no. Now, it’s basically impossible. “I think I should retire…” Her brows furrow and her bottom lip pops out. It’s no wonder where Junior gets it from. “I have a championship behind my back and this year is looking like another…”

She shrugs and then nods, “You’re his hero, you know? I just don’t want to break that bubble for him.” I sigh, placing my head on her round stomach. The baby kicks my chin and I can’t help but chuckle. “I’m 38, mi amor, my contract ends this year. I don’t want to miss more of my kids growing up.” She holds my face in her hands, this is what I imagine heaven would be like.

“I’ll support you all the way.” I nod and give her a kiss. She pulls Elija, the youngest closer to her. They’re just over a year old. “Look who’s the main breadwinner now.” Elija just babbles on as a reply. This is more than enough for me.

She’s mine, all mine. Three beautiful kids with one on the way. A championship to my name. There is nothing else I could want.

The End.

I just want to quickly add, that this story was written before the Epstein list came out. If the mention of Noami Campbell is too much, please, please tell me so, so that I can delete the mention of her immediately. But like,,,, I'm just a girl and idk what to do 🤷 please tell me what to do😭 Okay, love you bye <3

#Fast Pace #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x sugar baby!reader #sugar daddy!carlos sainz #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x reader #formula one #formula 1 #f1 #f 1 x reader

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