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#ISA'S COMING TO HELP
synth-spinner · 11 months
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Woke up from a nap and dreamt that superior had 1 scene in spiderverse and almost lost my entire mind and woke up and went oh my god I have to doodle this
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breezy-cheezy · 1 year
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Febuwhump Day 25: Assumed Dead
When all the darkness fades away We had to steal him from his fate So he could see another day
(AKA Trimax AU where Wolfwood got infused with Plant energy when Vash used so much of his power next to his dead body. Took a couple days but he wakes up very confused and very small, because the healing was a bit too potent. Something something giving you the childhood you were robbed of, etc. but being traumatic about it. Good luck getting out of the grave bro.)
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lilac-lemonade · 10 months
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Maybe if I say "it's all coming together" out loud enough times this fic will finish itself
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isastrxnd · 2 years
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I hate when I have dreams where I get to meet Ro and Rafa, because I wake up knowing that it was all fake.
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star-sim · 4 months
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supermassive blackhole ☆ jay park pt. 2
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☆ non-idol!jay x fem!reader
☆ summary: You and Jay Park couldn't stand each other. But after a drunk makeout session at your university's annual soccer mixer, combined with Jay's secret identity as the city's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, the two of you are pushed closer to each other than ever, challenging your long-time status as 'enemies.'
☆genre: enemies to lovers, suggestive but no nsfw/smut, angst, fluff, spiderman! au, college! au, so incredibly american HELP, reader has glasses bc it's cute and jay has a lip piercing bc i said so
☆ warning(s) ? many mentions and instances of alcohol (all characters are of age), this is very suggestive but there is no smut
☆ word count:  16.7k ☆ tag list: @sophiko22 @yenqa @kwiwin @okikinshasthehiccups @lovelickies @siyen @blackhairandbangs @pjjongsaeng @chkltmlk
part 1
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The next day, exactly one week before finals week officially began, you and your friends decided to have a beach picnic to de-stress from the impending doom that was semester finals. It was your meeting place, ever since high school. Clad in a pretty yellow sundress, you entertained yourself with a sand-castle building contest between you and a few friends. Unfortunately for them, a course in urban design (which you shared with Jay Park) equipped you with just enough knowledge on how to build a killer sand-castle.
“Woah!” Isa, the one that you helped get with Jay’s friend all those years ago, exclaimed. You were crouched right next to her in the sand, using silicone molds to make sand seashells. Since junior year of high school, you and Isa have grown apart. It wasn’t the break up rift that caused the distance. In fact, you got closer because of the break up. People just grew on their own, and sometimes that growth was in opposite directions. Now that you were at the same university, you were still friends, but not as close as you used to be. “Specky, you’re really good.”
You grinned to yourself, melding the wet sand into a pillar. “I know.”
Even when your friendship thinned, there was one thing that made Isa distinct: the fact that she called you “Specky,” (short for “spectacles,” since you wore glasses) and no one else did.
“It’s what a course in urban planning and design gets ya,” you quipped, poking your friend with a sand-covered finger.
There were some things that you two disagreed about.
Like when Isa picked her major to be fashion design and apparel construction. Not the most useful or appealing to most employers unless she made it big, which was why you were so vehemently against it. Between the required courses in fashion design and political science (your own major), you argued that the latter would be much more useful. 
But that was two years ago, and now you joke about it.
“Yeah?” Isa cocked a brow. “But can you make leopard print look good?”
You smiled. “No, but I know how to pass a law that makes leopard print illegal.”
Isa nudged you playfully. It was supposed to be a light nudge, and it was. Except, your heads bumped together. After a bit of laughing and a few ‘sorry’s’ Isa stopped in her tracks, nose scrunching.
You glanced at her curiously.
Isa didn’t say anything, only leaning closer to you. This time, she pressed the tip of her nose against your exposed shoulder.
“Are you sniffing me?”
Isa only laughed before pulling back. You shot your friend a suspicious look. 
“You smell like someone.”
“Don’t I always smell like someone?” you molded the sand in your palm. “Like.. I dunno, myself?”
“Yes, but-” Isa leaned into you again. “You don’t smell like yourself.”
Before you could question her further, Isa called over a few more friends.
“Jake! Kazuha! Come smell Little Miss Specky!”
After having five whole people smell you, they all agreed that you smelled “un-[Name]-like” (whatever that meant).
Isa frowned, placing a thinking hand on her chin. “A-Ha!”
You watched amused as the woman jumped to her feet.
“I know who you smell like!” 
Isa threw an accusatory finger your way. 
“You smell like Jay!”
Jay Park knew there was something wrong when his toaster broke that morning. 
Him and his (your) friends were having a beach get-together, but you went first. He told you that he “had something to do for his job.” Probably easy to guess what he was actually doing.
He arrived at the outing an hour after you did. 
And the moment he stepped out of his taxi, there was an entire group of grown adults (read: his friends) charging at him. It wasn’t unnatural for this to happen, but it was what they were screaming and the person they were dragging along with them– You.
Except, when he made eye contact with her ,you looked away embarrassed.
And that was when he remembered the worst slip-up of his life.
“Yeah, I think Jay Park is in love with you. He tells me all about he’s liked you since freshman year and–”
Lying to you while being Spider-Man…. About how he, in his civilian form, liked you.
In his defense– he was panicking, okay? He didn’t know what to say! And he didn’t want to make it awkward either– ew, that would be so icky. 
Apparently making his enemy think that he was madly in love with her better than making the atmosphere awkward. When he went home yesterday night (that is, after dropping you back at his place and then making another round around the city so that you wouldn't suspect him), he almost jumped off a building without shooting a web to suspend himself. 
He chewed on the inside of his bottom lip.
Jay couldn’t make out any words they were shouting at him, other than your name, “fucking,” and “smell.”
“Okay, okay, shut the fuck up!” Jay finally yelled back at them. “All of you. Let me sit down first.”
When they got back to where all their other friends were, his friends sat him down, looking very serious, as if he was their teenage son who they caught drinking, or something.
“Why are you guys so serious?” he questioned suspiciously. 
“You know why!” one of his friends chided.
Jay really didn’t.
In the corner of his eye, he could see another one of his friends dragging you toward them. 
Dread. 
He could not face you after what happened yesterday.
Eyes narrowing, he turned back to them. “What is this about?”
“How ‘bout you tell us what you’re about?” one of them quipped. “Why does [Name] smell so much like you?”
What.
“Wait, what?” Jay’s lips curled. “What do you mean?”
“Let go of me, Jake!” Jake Sim finally managed to get you, who was kicking and screaming, to come over to where Jay was. You struggled out of his grasp. “Dude, I just want to build my sand-castle, Jesus fuck-”
When your eyes met with Jay’s again, instead of a glare or disgusted expression, you simply looked away awkwardly.
“[Name] [Last Name]!” Isa proclaimed. “Are ya gonna tell us why you smell like your sworn enemy?”
“I don’t know!” you shot your friends a glare. “What do I even smell like normally?”
“Sweet, kinda like an orange,” Jake answered matter-of-factly, smiling.
I would know that, thought Jay.
“And what does Jay smell like normally?” 
When Jay and you locked eyes, you knew the answer exactly. You both knew why you smelled like him, and it was an answer that was more complicated-sounding than it should be. 
You slept in his bed. Not because you slept together on his bed, but because he also used to sleep in that bed, so it was only natural that his scent wore off on you. You also used his shampoo and body wash. Not because you showered together (ew!), but because you lived in his house.
But if you told them that, there was no way in hell anyone would believe that there wasn’t some sort of relationship between you two.
“He smells like wood, but like, mixed with Axe body spray.”
“I do not!”
It was a silent agreement between Jay and you.
Act stupid.
“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jay grumbled.
You crossed your arms over your chest. “I knew you guys were stupid but I didn’t think you were that stupid.”
Jake and Isa sent each other suspicious looks, reconvening before a large grin spread across both of their faces. 
“I knew it,” Jake murmured. He got louder. “I knew it!”
Everyone looked at him curiously.
“What are you talking about–”
Swinging an imperious finger at Jay and you, Jake announced loud enough for surrounding people to hear and turn their heads. “These two are fucking!”
.
.
.
What?
The uproar that that single statement caused was uncontrollable. In your group of friends, it was common knowledge that Jay Park and [Name] [Last Name] had nothing to do with each other. If Jay was on one end of the spectrum, you would be on the other. Even suggesting that there may be anything more than simply hate was outrageous.
“No way, man….”
“That’s insane.”
“Impossible!”
When Jay looked over at you, ready to deny everything that they were saying, instead of your characteristic scrunched nose and curled lips in disapproval, your face was plastered with nothing but an awkward and almost embarrassed expression. 
“Y’know what?” one of their friends spoke up. “I saw Jay and [Name] kissing at the hockey mixer last week!”
You were completely out of commission, and uncharacteristically so, with a panicked and flustered face. Everyone else was consumed in such clamor. So Jay would have to take everything into his own hands. Taking a deep breath, he waited (while showing great disapproval) for everyone to shut up.
It wasn’t like they’d believe him if he explained the truth. 
“Are you guys done…?” he finally spoke, clear dissatisfaction in his voice. 
Everyone shut up. 
Jay Park was generally an easygoing guy. He didn’t snap at people, and if anything, he was often the butt of jokes. Not that he minded. He was hot-headed and an asshole, but he was probably one of the easiest people to joke with.
However, his censure was not something to mess with.
He was an older brother. He was a STEM major, which was already a rigorous department to go into, no less civil and urban engineering. He was the top of his class in high school (after a certain someone, of course), and ostensibly worked, like, three jobs.
If there was anyone who was normally very patient and smart, it was him. If he’s annoyed, probably shut the fuck up.
Plus, there was nothing like pissing off a tired college student a week before finals.
Jay wet his lips. “You guys are making [Name] uncomfortable. Look at her.”
It was true. You were literally cowering into yourself, frowning deeply and playing with the hem of your yellow sundress.
“Look, I get that you’re our friends, or whatever,” Jay huffed, folding his arms. “But maybe there’s a reason that we don’t tell you certain things. Maybe because everything gets so blown out of proportion and you guys assume the worst.”
He turned over to Jake. The scariest thing about Jay was that even if he was hotheaded most of the time, he was incredibly calm and laid-back when confrontational. “You– You especially. You constantly force [Name] and I together. Some people don’t get along, and that’s okay. Stop trying to force people who don’t want to be forced together.”
Jay wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even annoyed. Just trying to set things straight. When he was done, he looked at his friends expectantly. One by one, they apologized awkwardly.
There was no real resolution, just Jay saying, “Cool,” and walking away to talk to his other friends.
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To say that you felt awkward would be an understatement, and to say that you were comfortable with the fact that you were feeling awkward would be a lie.
There was a lot to unpack.
Everyone was trying to suggest that you and Jay had some sort of sexual relationship. People always joked about it, sure, but for an entire group to accuse you of it was beyond disorienting. Now sitting under the parasol with a floral-print towel beneath your sundress, drawing shapes on the sand that had gotten onto the towel, you wished you could have said something. Sure, they were probably being light-hearted, and you knew your friends had no intention to make you feel uncomfortable, but there was something else they didn’t know.
That the number one source of your discomfort was directly from Jay.
When Spider-Man detailed everything that Jay had apparently told him about you, you didn't know how to feel.
According to Spider-Man, Jay Park has had a thing for you since freshman year of high school, and he keeps the hero up until early hours of the day just talking about you. Initially, you were horrified. Could Spider-Man be messing with you? There was no way that Jay Park– the bitch-faced, uncouth, uncivilized, villain that was Jay Park– liked you.
Just the thought that someone like him saw you in a different light made you uneasy.
On the other hand, you were a bit flattered. As Spider-Man explained it, Jay had a thing for you but not necessarily a crush. Rather, he found you attractive. 
“And he still does,” the hero had added. “He still thinks you’re attractive, even if he argues with you.”
Jay was the victim of some of your worst moments. You’ve screamed bloody murder at him, shed hot tears, and shrieked so hard that you’d lost your voice. He’d point out your major flaws and insecurities, ones that you didn’t even know that you had. He’d seen your true destructive, tyrannical, and malicious self.
But he still found you attractive? 
That was terrifying.
Has he ever seen you with your friends? How you were you soft and kind, all affectionate and tender? How you’d take care of them, how you’d pet their heads and listen to them cry?
How could he ever find you attractive if he’d never seen you be a good person, when he’d only seen the monstrous side of you?
How could anyone find you attractive?
You got positive comments about your appearance many times before, but they were always followed up by comments about your character
You were snapped out of your thoughts when a familiar dark head of hair passed through your line of vision. You never took the time to observe what he was wearing: basketball shorts and a hoodie. It seemed like he could never dress for the occasion, regardless of where he was.
He had his earbuds jammed into his ears, an irritated expression on his face. 
After years of purposefully trying to make his life miserable, you could read his face easily
Jay was hot. Physically– Wait no. 
Jay was hot, as in ‘affected by the scalding weather.’ His brows always scrunched up with his bottom lip jutting out when he was feeling especially warm. 
Maybe if he took off that hoodie of his for once.
You looked down at your hands.
You were under a parasol. 
Which gave shade. 
Which would make someone feel less ‘affected by the scalding weather.’
“Park!”
You never really thought that you would be the one to invite Jay Park to sit under a parasol with you. Especially after such events that transpired earlier.
It was silent.
Awkward.
Usually, you’d be able to look him straight in the eye, but now equipped with the knowledge that he may or may not have been attracted to you this entire time, you felt queasy.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
He had his eyes glued to the book that he was reading. Upon closer inspection, you knew that book. In fact, you had it.
It was Design of Cities: Revised Edition by Edmund Bacon. The textbook for your urban design course.
And he had the audacity to call you nerdo freak all this time! 
He only looked away from his book to glance at his phone. 
To change the song that he was listening to.
When you peeked at his phone screen, you noticed a familiar album cover playing.
Bright orange and blue, four men gathered around the table.
Then you noticed the white text right below it.
Supermassive Blackhole.
Before your mind could even think, your mouth moved for you.
“You listen to Muse?”
Jay took his earbud out of his ear, looking up at you slowly with a questioning look.
.
.
.
This scene has happened before.
“You asked me that already,” Jay said simply. 
“I-I know.” Why were you stammering? “Summer of freshman year. We were at the beach then, too.”
He cocked a brow at you, and just as he was turning back to his textbook, you continued, voice meeker than usual. “I asked you if you listened to Muse because I also listen to them. But you.. You thought I was making fun of you.”
Jay looked at you slowly.
Why were you shy?
He fingered the earbud that he had removed. You seemed to notice, bracing yourself for the slight embarrassment that would come with his shoving that thing back into his ear. Except, he didn’t. Instead, he presented it in his palm before you.
Was he… offering it to you?
“If you’re just going to stare at it–”
You snatched the bud from his palm, prodding it into your ear.
When the music played, you were met with Matt Bellamy vocalizing into your ear and that iconic, yet rough, guitar rift. Weird that the very song that you listened to when working out was the one that Jay used to study urban planning and design.
You watched Jay’s focused face. The scar on his nose got lost in the divots on his skin when he scrunched his nose, presumably in reaction to something he had read. You never really noticed the birthmark on his neck either.
The next song played, but before it did, Jay paused it.
“What are you looking at?”
You recoiled.
“You were looking at me,” Jay remarked. “Is there something on my face?”
“No, there’s nothing.”
“Okay.”
He caught a glimpse of the song playing before pressing ‘play.’
“You must love this song,” he muttered.
You couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not, until you were met with a distinct drum, rugged bassline, and the 4-on-the-floor beat.
Exo-Politics.
That was the name of the song. 
The song that was playing was called Exo-Politics.
You were a political science major.
Was he trying to joke with you?
Was the Jay Park attempting to joke with you?
In the corner of your eye, you could see some children building sand-castles, just like you had been doing earlier. You then peered at the textbook he was reading.
Design of Cities: Revised Edition by Edmund Bacon.
You bit your lip.
“Do you…” you began. “Do you want to see who can build a better sand-castle?”
A civil and urban engineering major and a political science major. 
Both were taking the same urban planning and design college course.
Who would build a better sand-city?
“What the fuck is that?”
“I’m going for a high-rise look!”
Maybe it wasn’t the greatest idea. 
Especially when it was two ‘nerdo freaks’ trying to out-wit each other.
“The housing density is insane.”
“That settlement looks squatter.”
“That looks unsustainable.”
“That neighborhood is just looking to get gentrified.”
At that comment, you, who were only a few feet away from Jay, grabbed a handful of semi-wet sand and hurled it at the man. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Hey!” The glob of sand had landed on one of his ‘high-rise’ buildings. “I’m trying to say that your neighborhoods look poor.”
“Poor?!”
You went for a more sustainable look. Geometric layouts, charmingly sinuous roads, mid-height buildings with only a few clustered high-rise ones, concise zones of income, and clumps of wet sand littered all across the sand-city, imitating trees.
“Is that… New Urbanism?”
You patted your hands off. “Glad that you can recognize it, Park.”
The detail really was something to marvel at. Each building had a indents into their surface to imitate windows, the sandy ‘roads’ were strategically carved with a sharp fingernail to replicate the different uses of land, and even the globs of sand that represented trees were fluffed up to look like actual trees rather than miscellaneous globs.
Jay rolled his eyes, going back to shaping the pointed tip of his building.
Whereas your city was terribly idealistic, he went for a more true-to-life replica. After all, it was his job to study and create infrastructural pieces for real-life cities. High-rise buildings, strong geometric structures, high-density housing, narrow spaces between structures, and little open space. They were built with incredible precision: all the lines were perfectly straight, all the shapes were beautifully even on all sides, and it genuinely looked true-to-life.
“Your city looks like something that would need protection from Spider-Man.”
Ironic.
Jay sighed to hide the slightly-amused grin that you had elicited from him.
“You like Spider-Man?” 
Your face contorted, eyes squinting. “In what way?”
“Whaddya mean ‘in what way’?”
You frowned. “I mean, economically and politically speaking, he’s kind of a disturbance, dontcha think?”
Do you even like Spider-Man? Has Jay been misconstruing everything?
Did he technically kidnap you?
“He’s, like, more effective than other law enforcement, but that’s really a testament to him as a protector and how shit current law enforcement is,” you thought aloud. “I think he’s good.”
“Just good?
You frowned again. 
“Aren’t you his friend?” you changed the subject. Even in your strange uneasiness, you didn’t find it hard to maintain steady eye-contact with the man. Given the fact that you’d cussed him out using all swears under the sun while looking him straight in the eye.
Jay feigned surprise. “Yeah, he is. How do you know that?”
The man watched as your bottom lip was taken under your teeth. “He came by last night.”
Jay quirked a brow.
There was a pulse of silence between you two.
Not quite comfortable, but not exactly hostile.
Other than the sound of soft breathing, seagulls squawking and people laughing in the distance, and sea waves crashing against the sandy shore, it was completely silent. 
Dare Jay say, a nice moment.
“Jay, come play football with us!”
That’s right. 
Every time they’d go to the beach, Jay would play football with the boys. 
He wanted to play. 
But he also wanted to show you up in your sand-city competition. 
As he constructed another sand skyscraper, Jay slowly looked up. His eyes met with yours. You gave him a sharp nod, as if to say, ‘Go ahead.’
The man sighed.
Dusting his sandy hands off, Jay rose to his feet.
“I’m not done here, by the way,” he remarked as he passed your crouched form. “I can still make a better city than you.”
Jay felt a glob of sand flicked at his leg, he knew that the feeling was mutual.
Jay lost control of his spider-like abilities sometimes.
His fingers would stick implacably to papers if he wasn’t careful, he’d turn a door handle mindlessly and break it with his inhuman strength, or be acutely aware of the most miniscule of all dust specks flying close to someone’s face.
Sometimes, he’d use those abilities to his advantage.
Like right now.
Jay wasn’t cheating!
Just making use of what his body can do.
Fast reflexes to dodge those that would charge at him head-on, incredible (in a human way) running speed, and probably the greatest throws, like, ever.
When Jake Sim passed the red-brown ball in his direction, who was he to not use those spider reflexes and catch it with larger-than-life precision? As his eyes scoped around for who to pass to, he found the perfect person. Preparing, he raised his arm, squinting for accuracy. At once, he hurled the football.
Except, he found that he’d lost control of just how much strength he was putting into the throw. 
At top speed, it began shooting through the air, its pointed tip charging like a missile. As if it was in slow motion, gravity dragged the leathery ball toward the sandy ground. Like a rocket torpedo, the football flung straight into the elaborate city of sand sculpted by your very hands.
If it was any normal, human-strength throw, only a portion of the sand-city would be destroyed.
But because Jay had an obscene amount of strength, the ball not only destroyed the entire city, but dug so harshly into the sand that it exploded it– debris-like chunks of sand just bursting everywhere. And especially all over you and your pretty yellow sundress.
The earth must have stopped spinning, the sun shedding a single ray like a stagelight in a theater over your now frozen figure.  It wasn’t just Jay’s super hearing senses. It was like all sound at this bustling beach died out in an instant, zeroing in you.
You turned your head slowly. Your expression was completely vacant, but that spoke volumes. There was sand all over your face, so with a willful arm, you wiped all of it in a sharp swipe.
Even though he was several meters away from you across the beach, and even though there was no way of telling who threw the ball, Jay could feel your stone gaze right at him. You took a deep breath.
Jay ran to you.
“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. “I didn’t realize that it– the ball– was going your way– I–”
Everyone was ready to hear you shout your lungs out at Jay. In fact, Jay braced himself for the onslaught of profanities and obscenities that would be rightfully spewed at him.
But there was no yelling.
You breathed through your nose before rising to your feet and dusting off your sandy dress.
You looked at him.
“Thanks a lot, Jay.” There was a sliver of a smile spreading on your lips, but the way your teeth so clearly clenched together told a different story. You squeezed your eyes shut to conceal your bubbling anger, but you simply couldn’t take it. “It always seems like you ‘didn’t realize’ something all the time. But I’m not really surprised anymore.”
With that, flicked a piece of sand off your shoulder before snatching up your tote bag that was perched against the parasol and turning on your heel.
All Jay could do was watch your retreating back, football in hand, as you walked in the opposite direction away from him to the parking lot. 
He dug his nails into the leathery ball. Tearing his eyes away from you, Jay was about to turn back to his friends. 
Except, a massive crash erupted through the air.
With his spider-like reflexes, Jay snapped his head up. From behind the high-rise buildings and tall structures emerged a giant shadow. 
Almost immediately, in the distance, Jay heard cars honking, wheels screeching against the road, and screaming. There were mini fires in the distance from cars crashing.
As people scurried for their lives, the car smoke cleared, revealing a greater shadow in the distance. 
Six claws, seemingly mechanical and woven together with many tiny wires. Two antennas extending from the crown of the figure. Metallic body, with red and flashing accents.
Shit. 
He knew exactly who that was.
Doctor Discotheque.
Didn’t he fight him a week ago?
“Where’s Spider-Man?!”
Jay clenched his fist. 
He had to find a way to get into his hero suit without anyone seeing. Speaking of…
The man whipped his head around to where his friends were. Like everyone else, they were running for their lives. At least they were going in the opposite direction.
Clenching his fist again, Jay was ready to charge straight up to the supervillain, but his dark eyes incidentally caught onto the frozen figure of none other than you. You were completely frozen in your spot, unmoving as you gawked at the incredible size of the villain.
Damnit, [Name], Jay sucked in a sharp breath. It wasn’t abnormal for people to freeze in the face of danger, but he never thought it would be you. 
Shooting a web from his wrist, Jay retrieved a stray towel. In what was only a fraction of a second, he threw the towel over him before he changed into his Spider-Man suit. Fixing his mask, he discarded the towel.
The ground rumbled under his feet as Doctor Discotheque’s gigantic body terrorized the streets.
Jay’s feet immediately began moving, running toward your direction. As he approached her, he shot a sticky white web, sticking to your clothes back and effectively yanking you right into him. The hero threw you over his shoulder with an arm around your waist, and began running the other direction.
When you didn’t react, Jay gave a pat to your ass, the way a parent would do to their infant.
“Oi, [Name]!” Jay propelled himself off the sandy ground, discharging a few webs to allow him to swing. 
“S-Spider-Man?!” Finally, you snapped out of your dazed state. “What’s– What was that?!”
Jay tightened his grasp around you as he began climbing up a building. By now, he was far from where Doctor Discotheque was. Good for your safety, but not good for his own crime-fighting. 
“What, that big thing?” He felt you nod. “That’s just my good pal Doctor Discotheque.”
His tone was far too easygoing, and you audibly gulped.
“Relaaaaax, Angel,” Jay swung to another building. “He’s just a little villain. I beat him twice already. Nothin’ for ya to worry yer pretty head about about.”
“But he’s huge! And, you’re–”
Jay gave your ass another pat. “Just trust me on this, Baby.”
Finally, you reached the destination Jay had planned for you– the underground subway station. It was far enough from all the commotion for it to be calm, but just safe enough.
Jay placed you down. Despite all his reassurance, your face was twisted with concern.
You squeezed his shoulder, lips jutting out into a frown.
“I told ya already,” Jay knocked on your head. “Don’t worry about me.”
When you wouldn’t stop frowning, Jay flexed his bicep, placing your hand on it. With his hand over you, he squeezed his firm bicep.
“Ya feel that muscle?” you nodded slowly. “I’m strong. Spider-Man is strong.”
You stared at him.
“So you don’t hafta worry about me.”
Granted, Jay was talking to you the same way that he would talk to a crying six-year-old, but hey, it’s the principle of it!
“Just…” you took a deep breath. “Be careful.”
Jay unknowingly grinned. “Yeah, yeah.”
There was a pulse of silence between you two.
You looked up at him, with nearly glossy and wide eyes. You bit your lip.
“Before you go…” you murmured something under your breath. Abruptly, you grabbed Jay’s masked face, bringing it down so that he was eye-level to you. You pressed a quick peck to his cheek, before pulling back immediately. “Just…  Don’t do anything dumb.”
Jay stared at you, blinking a few times to absorb everything. He swallowed on his dry throat, licking his lips. Another wide grin spread over his face. 
“Of course, Gorgeous.”
Okkkayyy….
So maybe Jay was a bit of a liar.
According to the supervillain himself, Doctor Discotheque got access to some high-tech science shit and now had this supermassive mechanical body to control.
Just great.
Spider-Man was no wimp. He fought with all his might and was actually quite effective. Effective enough to damage Doctor Discotheque to the point that he ran away and yelled, “Damn you, Spider-Man!”
The only issue was that Doctor Discotheque was a little too strong for Jay to handle unprepared. 
The night was completely silent now. That is, if you didn’t count the police sirens and helicopters flying overhead, reporting on the incident.
There was an undoubted hush that fell over the city. The supervillain hadn’t done anything that was crisis-causing, but he was an unequivocal threat. According to the police reports, three people had died, while an entire block and a half of important infrastructure, including parts of the beach, had been subject to damage. The news, after collecting data, reported that quantitatively, 67% of citizens felt unsafe and were fearful of what was to come. Indeed, there was a threat.
And even worse, Spider-Man was injured.
Doctor Discotheque wasn’t lying when he said that he had “some high-tech science shit,” because one of his tentacle-like claws managed to stab Jay’s thigh. It was nothing fatal, but it was certainly debilitating.
“Ah– Shit.” Jay had to resort to climbing the walls instead of swinging around buildings. Before he entered his apartment complex, he made sure to tie a piece of cloth around his bleeding wound and change back to his civilian clothes.
When he cracked open his apartment door, he was surprised when you bombarded him with questions.
“Where the hell were you?” The you that Spider-Man knew was vastly different from the you that Jay Park knew. “We were all so worried– Shit– No one saw you, like, at all, at the beach– and you weren’t responding to any texts or calls– and–”
Jay blinked. 
“What were you doing all this time? You could have been killed, or injured!-- or– It doesn’t matter– Where have you been all this time and why haven’t you been responding to any of us, or–”
You dug your teeth into your bottom lip. “Look! Even your brother’s worried sick!” 
Jay looked over at Wonnie, who was eating chips (and getting crumbs all over) and watching TV, completely unbothered.
“I, um,” Jay stared at you. Quick! How was he going to get out of this one? “I was– I was at my internship. We.. uh, We were studying infrastructure… as a result of the… Incident.”
You eyed him suspiciously. “Was the studying so interesting that you couldn’t respond to any texts or calls?”
Jay fumbled with his phone that was deeply squashed in his pants pocket. “It was dead.”
It was now that he noticed the way that you were circling him, inspecting him like a hawk. It was a good thing that he changed into his civilian-wear, or else you'd see the cuts and bruises all over his arms, as well as the dirt and debris that had gotten into and onto his hero suit. 
“Oh my god, are you bleeding?!”
Jay looked down, and lo and behold, there’s blood dripping down his thigh, creating a puddle of dark red below him.
Maybe next time, he shouldn’t use a tiny piece of cloth to tie up such an absurd wound like that.
“Oh. I am.”
“?!”
And that’s how Jay found himself sprawled across the bathroom floor with one ear pressed against the bathroom door, listening to your voice on the other side.
“Is it bad?”
“Yeah, there’s blood everywhere.”
“?!”
He finally fessed up and admitted that he got stabbed in the thigh (with an appropriate excuse, of course). You were just going to leave it at that, snarkily saying, “Hope you know how to fix up a stab wound,” but when he responded with, “I don’t,” you grumbled under your breath and forced him to take a shower. You weren't exactly excited to see him naked and so bare (his thigh!) and neither was he, so your direction was all told behind a bathroom door.
It was a tedious task having to listen to you. 
But you were a tedious person.
Look for things in the wound like glass shards, disinfect it with alcohol, patch it up.
Except he couldn’t get past the second step.
“Shit, shit, shiiiiit,” Jay hissed. Rubbing alcohol burned.
“Park?” your voice resounded behind the bathroom door. “Are you okay in there?”
He fumbled with the various medical equipment. “Y-Yeah– It just kinda hurts.”
There was a silence.
“I’m fine.”
Behind the door, he heard you sigh.
“Put on some clothes, Park.”
“W-What?”
“You’re so fuckin’ incompetent that I need to help you. Put on some clothes so I can get in there, will ya?”
Now the two of you were sitting on the floor.
“Ow! That really hur–”
“Stay still then!” “I can’t when it’s burni– Ah.. Agh! It hurts!”
The wound was a lot worse than you had thought. Jay said that one of the interns dropped a saw knife on his lap, causing it to stab him. Honestly, you did not buy that story but it was the best he had so you just accepted it.
Unfortunately, this stab wound looked a lot worse than someone just accidentally dropping a sharp object onto his lap.
The two of you were now sitting on the cold bathroom floor, you in between his legs. Jay had shorts rolled all the way up, revealing his injured thigh. Other than the occasional hiss of pain, annoyed murmur, and sound of Wonnie’s TV channel in the background, it was completely silent. The early-summer night was only beginning to darken. If the night of the party was discounted, then this may have been the closest that you two have ever been.
Your delicate fingers against his skin, Jay sunk his teeth into his lip. Your glasses were at the very tip of your nose, almost falling off your face. He wanted to push them up badly, but decided against it. After all, you and him were not friends. Barely even acquaintances.
Well, you and him, a.k.a.  you and his civilian form, a.k.a. you Jay Park.
You and Spider-Man seemed to be great friends.
He wondered why you hated him so much. You got along well with Spider-Man just fine, and Spider-Man was probably the most free version of Jay there was. Was it just the very essence of Jay Park?
Thinking back to what happened earlier at the subway station, you were sweet. Too sweet. The sweetest that he’d ever seen.
Jay never thought that he’d look into your eyes and see genuine worry, concern.
The way you held onto him, those pouty lips, gleaming eyes that looked up at him like he was some god.
Jay’s lips parted unconsciously as he watched the way you were currently working between his legs. 
It would be a lie to say that Jay wasn’t, to some degree, attracted to you. He’s always been. Your [H/C] hair, those glasses that would delicately lay on your nose. Your mean words, nasty glares, critical eyes, and most strikingly, your wicked intelligence– they should have made him completely terrified of you, but for some reason, it only made him more attracted to you. 
Too many guilty nights were spent thinking about you, contemplating what he should say to you the next day to elicit a reaction.
Sometimes, at night, his mind would wander about what would have happened that night at the soccer mixer if Wonnie hadn’t called him. What would have happened between him and you? 
And when you kissed him earlier, he felt like a little schoolboy talking to a girl for the first time. Why was he so giddy?
He bit his tongue as you finished off your bandaging job.
He was going crazy.
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Yes, you did indeed need to ask Jay Park for help again. Normally that would be embarrassing enough. But now it was another level of embarrassment.
A few days had passed since the incident at the beach, and someone had the wonderful idea to have a frat party. In the middle of the week. Which was what you (and by association, Jay) were getting ready for.
You and Jay agreed that you both would be taking your car to the party, but under the condition that you went in at appropriately-spaced times to avoid misunderstandings.
Jay’s version of “getting ready” was literally nothing. He wore what he always wore to parties. On the other hand, you actually dressed up.
The only issue was you didn’t have your friends with you, who would usually help you get ready.
Which was why you were now embarrassingly asking Jay Park to zip up your tiny red dress.
“C-Can you– just–” you had to cross your arms to keep the thin spaghetti straps from falling off your shoulders. Even so, in front of him, you felt like you were practically spilling out of the dress. “Can you just zip up my dress?”
How embarrassing.
Jay agreed to it with a silent nod, but you could feel his judgment boring into the back of your head. 
You felt his large hands ghost over your lower back before stopping.
“Move your hair.”
When you didn’t respond, Jay repeated himself. “Move your hair. I can’t zip it up if your hair’s in the way.”
“O-Oh.”
How embarrassing.
When he was done, you instinctively turned around to face him. When you were with your friends and they zipped up your dress, you’d turn around and ask, “How do I look?”
Unfortunately, Jay wasn’t one of those friends.
Your cheeks burned in embarrassment when Jay gave a questioning look, ready to turn around and scurry off. However, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes clung to your dress-clad body, and especially the way that he gulped harshly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
You couldn’t stop the self-satisfied curve forming on your lips.
“What?!” was the simultaneous reaction of Jay and you.
Inevitably, when you arrived at the party, you parted ways to go to your own friends.
“I don’t know how you could hate him,” a friend chuckled into your ear as you hung out in the billiard area, drinks in hand.
“Hate who?”
Another friend nudged you. “Y’know.. Jay.”
You grimaced. “What about him?”
The friend laughed. “Have you seen his arms?”
“No, I haven’t.” You frowned. 
Your friends shrieked, giving you a slap on the arm. “Christ, he’s, like, fine as fuck– oh my god, the lip piercing–”
The bespectacled you frowned again, taking a sip of your canned beer. “If you like him so much, you should tell him. His big ass head might like the attention.”
Your friends exchanged looks.
“Nah, I can’t do that.”
At that point, you weren't even paying attention, too focused on the pool game happening in the room. “Why not?”
“Because everyone knows that Jay Park is yours.”
.
.
.
“WHAT?”
Jay Park?
Yours?
?????
“He’s not-”
Your friend threw an arm around your shoulder. “Look, babe, we all understand. It’s pretty much an unwritten rule that Jay Park is reserved for you and you are reserved for Jay Park.”
You scowled, taking another long sip of your beer, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Your neck felt uncharacteristically warm. “But, we’ve never even shown interest in each other!”
Another friend put a hand on your shoulder. “Everyone sees the way he looks at you.”
“But that’s just him!” you crossed your arms. “I do not like him!”
There’s cheering in the other room, which you momentarily poked your head out of the room to take a look at. Meanwhile, your friends shared a look.
“[Name], Sweetie,” they smiled when you came back. “Remember when he got his first girlfriend? You were glaring daggers at her.”
“Because she was an objectively bad person!”
“Then why were you crying into my shoulder for hours because you randomly ‘felt sad’?”
“Because I was randomly feeling sad!”
“Right…”
Your friend sighed. “You guys are crazily oblivious.”
You spluttered.
Likewise, Jay was having a similar dilemma.
“Dude, I don’t care if you think [Name] is hot,” the dark-haired man crossed his arms.
His friends stared at him. “Uh. I think you do.”
Jay’s nose scrunched. “I don’t.”
“She always looks like she’s gonna eat you up–”
Jay leaned back on the sofa, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Yeah, which is why–”
“And you always look like you want her to eat you up.”
.
.
.
“That’s not true.” Okay, so maybe Jay Park knew that it was true. When you called him stupid or cursed at him, it may or may not have been a turn-on. He’s not weird. “She doesn’t even call me by my name.”
“Right, [Name] exclusively calls you Park.”
Another friend chimed in. “She wants your last name!”
“Wha–”
Another one spoke up. “She calls you by your last name because she’s waayy into taking it.”
“Okay, okay,” Jay muttered. “But even if I did like her, I don’t think she’s like me back.”
“We never said anything about you liking her…”
.
.
.
“I’m leaving.”
He didn’t end up leaving. In fact, he and his friends ended up in the hallway bedroom along with an entire group of other people. Including you and your own friends.
“Let’s play truth or dare!”
The moment that that fuck-faced, son of a bitch Jake Sim reached for the glass Heineken bottle and gave it a spin, Jay knew he was doomed. Because the bottle landed on you yourself. And the mischievous look on his face told the room everything they had to know.
“[Name], I dare you to play 7 Minutes in Heaven with Jay!”
That’s how Jay Park found himself sitting face-to-face with you in a stuffy closet. 
Awkward.
Outside, you could hear the muffled voices of your friends, giggling amongst themselves. It was deathly silent in the closet, so quiet that Jay’s ears rung with static. Despite this, your eyes were not shy; steady and unwavering eye-contact was always the way for Jay and you, no matter the situation.
“Are they gonna kiss?!” someone whispered not-so-loudly on the other side of the door. You, staring dead into his eyes, cocked a brow, your lip twitching. 
“Six minutes!” someone shouted outside.
Jay was uncomfortable. You probably were, too.
How could he lighten up the mood?
Well, he’s comfortable with you when he’s Spider-Man, and vice versa. What’s something Spider-Man would say?
“You look great tonight.”
Good one, Spider-Man.
Your brows furrowed together, your entire face scrunching. Just as Jay was about to pray to the sky for the ground to swallow him up, you opened your mouth. 
“Thank you,” you said quietly, and for the first time since you got into the closet, averted your gaze from his. Your eyes dropped, before using your foot to nudge him. “Nice socks, Park.”
That’s right, tonight he was wearing… Spider-Man socks.
Oh man, he looked like a weirdo.
Jay chewed on his bottom lip. 
When he glanced over at you, for the first time ever, instead of feeling indignation or irritation, he felt something adjacent to admiration. 
Jay had seen you for every one of your embarrassing phases. And when he looked at you now, those dark and curly mascara-laden lashes, glossy pink lips, and shimmery eyeshadow lining your eyes, he only realized then how gorgeous you were. You had always been attractive to him, and he’d always known that. But now you were seriously beautiful. 
There was no doubt that you put effort into your appearance. He was stupid, and he knew he was, to indulge in the idea that, perhaps, you dressed up for him.
On your end, your heart was hammering in your chest. Which was weird. Because that only happened when you were nervous. And what was there to be nervous about when it came to Jay Park?
“Five minutes!”
Your friends’ words rang in your head.
Was Jay Park really that attractive?
He had honey-gold skin, strong and sharp features, tousled dark hair, and a pierced lip. If you looked past his smug expression when he got what he wanted or that slightly-pathetic look in his eyes when he didn’t, you supposed that he could be attractive. 
You glanced at him. His distracted gaze, pointed at the carpeted floor below their feet, was almost daunting.
Was there something between you and Jay, something that neither of you knew about?
If someone asked you that question years ago, you would have punched them square in the face for asking such a dumb question.
But now you didn’t know.
You would be lying if you said that you never thought of Jay Park in a different light. As much as you hated to admit it, there were times where you questioned your attraction to him. It wasn’t like he was going around charming you with physical affection. 
Instead, it was small actions.
Rolling his sleeves up, his large hands littered with rings, the bruises along his knuckles and splinters and cuts along his fingers because of his engineering workshops, licking his lips, that little side smirk he’d do when satisfied with himself, when he’d quirk his brow at you, when he’d correct people, when he’d speak academically, when he’d help people in class.
You were so immersed in thoughts that you didn't notice the way Jay was outright staring at you. 
You were only pulled out of it when you felt a finger push up your glasses.
Surprised, you jerked back, eyes looking up at a just-as-surprised Jay.
“I’m sorry,” Jay blurted almost immediately. “Your glasses– they were falling down your nose, so I–”
You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling your ears prickle with heat. Sheepishly, you pushed up your glasses, holding onto the rims as a way to hide your embarrassed face.
“I’m so sorry,” Jay rambled. “That’s so weird and I shouldn’t have and–”
“It’s okay,” you interrupted. You pushed up your glasses again.
Another silence fell over you, this time, even more tense. Until Jay broke the silence.
“How did we even start hating each other?” 
You cracked a small smile. “You don’t remember?
“No, I do,” Jay said. “I just feel like there were so many opportunities for us to become friends. We just never did.”
“I guess.”
There’s another pulse of silence.
“I don’t hate you, by the way,” you mumbled. 
“You don’t?”
“I mean, at least I don’t think so.”
“Then I don’t think I hate you either.”
“Thanks.”
Jay almost laughed. “‘Thanks?’”
You shrugged.
Your eyes met, staring into each other’s eyes for a few moments before a bashful expression spread across Jay’s face. “Y’know, I stopped talking to Taehyun after you yelled at me.”
Your lips parted. “Why?”
Jay scoffed, his brows knitting together in an attempt to explain himself. 
“I dunno. I guess you..” he trailed off. Again, those wide and glossy eyes that looked at him. This time, though, instead of gazing at him as if he was some god, you watched him as if he was a book, trying to read him. “You beat some sense into me.”
“Three minutes!” someone shouted. From outside, there were giggling and fake kissing noises.
You two shared a small laugh at your friends.
The remaining 3 minutes were quiet.
College student stress was no joke. That coupled with a pinch of sexual and housing frustration, and the result is a drunk you.
You really didn’t mean to drink so much tonight, but everything seemed to become a much bigger problem when on a dance floor next to a whole bunch of sweaty bodies, so why not drink your problems away?
Currently, you were on top of a guy, who was equally as drunk as you, in the guest bedroom of the frat house. Tangling your hands in his hair, you smashed your lips against his. Whoever you were kissing was a messy kisser– He shoved his tongue into your mouth, aggressively exploring every crevice. His kisses left your lips swollen and pouty, pink lip gloss leaving pretty residue at the corner of his lips. Cold metal pressed into your bottom lip– it must have been a piercing. It should have hurt, and it did, but the foreign and cold pain only made the kiss even better.
Meanwhile, his hands roamed.
Would it be a good time now to mention that the guy was Jay Park-- just that both of you were too drunk to even notice each other? For the second time.
Jay's large, ring-covered fingers gripped your hips, hard enough to leave bruises. With each passionate kiss, he pulled your hips against his, before sliding his hands down to your ass and giving it a squeeze, earning a squeal from you. 
You finally pulled away from each other only to catch a breath of air. You, with puffy lips and blown-out eyes, shifted in the man’s lap; you shoved your knee between his thighs, while your hands grasped his hair to tilt his head, giving you access to his neck.
Pressing wet kisses along his honey-gold skin, you took in his woody scent. Your fingers, laced harshly in his soft locks, pulled on his hair.
“Fuuuuuck,” Jay groaned. 
You gave his hair another harsh tug, pressing your lip directly against his neck– right at the crook where his jaw met his neck. You swiped your tongue over his skin. Grinning to yourself, you graze your teeth against him, before sinking them in and giving his plush skin a soft suck. He gasped.
“You like that?” you breathed in his ear. He shuddered, nodding quickly. 
Unsatisfied, you sank your teeth into his skin again, sucking harshly this time. “I wanna hear you fuckin’ say it.”
“Yes– shiiit–” your lips moved to the crook of his neck. Jay threw his head back, sighing loudly. “Fuck, I like that.”
Even under the dim bedroom light, when you pulled away,you could admire the red-purple marks left on his skin, along with the slight shimmery sheen of lip gloss left. Just when he thought it was over, you ran your tongue along the bruises that you left, pressing the sensitive skin. 
You ran a pedicured hand up his chest, before pushing him down so that he was lying flat on the soft bed. Currently, you were completely straddling his thigh, so you threw a leg around him so that you would be straddling his hips.
In your drunken stupor, you couldn't make out his features, other than a sharp nose and dark hair. Jay's hands came up to grip your hips once again, rocking yours against his just slightly and letting out a desperate cry.
You ran your nail along Jay's neck, admiring the marks you left.  You grasped his chin, shaking it side-to-side. “Uh-uh. Not until I say so.”
Yanking the hem of his hoodie, you pulled it up, revealing a toned and tanned stomach. You graze your nails against his skin, biting your lip.
“Raise your arms,” you slurred. He sat up and complied, so you pulled his hoodie over his head. With him still sat up, you pulled Jay close so that your chests were pressed right against each other.
Once again, you smashed your lips against his, engaging in another heated make-out session. Your nails dug into Jay's biceps, while his hands roamed your body– squeezing your ass, grazing your thighs, and tugging at the thin spaghetti straps of your dress.
“Take it off,” he whined against your lips, pawing at your dress. “Take it off, please.”
You chuckled, amused. You grabbed his chin. “What did I say earlier?”
“Please, please, please,” he begged, completely ignoring what you said.
You slammed your lips against each other, pulling him by his face. The room was filled with the sound of lips colliding with one another, and occasional whines and pleas.
Both far too intoxicated to focus on anything other than your desire, you didn’t notice the sound of footsteps and laughter approaching the guest bedroom.
“And I was like–” the door clicked open. “OH MY GOD–”
Why does this keep happening? 
The last time Jay went to a frat party, he nearly hooked up with you and got cockblocked one way or another. Last time, it was his kid brother. And now his friends.
As he ran out of the frat house (of course grabbing a water bottle and chugging it to sober up), searching for you, Jay couldn’t help but feel a harboring sense of disappointment and shame. His cheeks burned against the cool night air, his eyes glossy and watery with the initial surprise and now, shame. He tried to blink back the tears that were beginning to line his eyes, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.
When two of your friends bursted through the doorway, the two of you were completely frozen. Jay was too drunk to even comprehend what was happening, but when he heard “[Name],” everything came back to him.
You didn’t seem to realize it was him either until you heard his name.
And the moment that you did, your face grew red, morphing and twisting. As crystal tears began to fill your eyes, you began hitting and punching Jay. Maybe he was too drunk to understand, or you were too drunk to generate coherent words. But he couldn’t understand anything that you said.
Not until you let out a loud sob, yelling, “I hate you, Jay Park.”
You jumped off of him, running out of the room, pushing past the group of friends that had formed a mini-crowd around the doorway. 
You must be disgusted with him. He was a fool to think that he could even have a chance with you.
Humiliated and disgusted with himself, Jay watched as you ran off into the night. His heart sank to his knees, an uneasy and nauseating feeling settling in his stomach. As his heart calmed down, Jay lowered his head in humiliation, unable to even face himself.
You said that you didn't hate him, but you surely must now.
Just as he was about to run back into that frat house and drink himself dead, he realized one very crucial thing: where the fuck was you going?
You were drunk. And crying. Even if you hailed a taxi, there was no way of knowing that you'll be safe.
Sucking in a sharp breath from his heavy breath, Jay looked down at his hands.
God, he was so ashamed of himself. He would love– and truly, love– to go drink until he was shitfaced drunk again. There’s no way that he could look anyone, and especially you, in the eye after this. He felt disgusting. Nasty. He must be a repulsive person.
But there was no way in hell that he was going to let a drunk and vulnerable woman run around the city late at night.
Which was why Jay found himself pulling the very woman that crushed his soul close under a street lamp. 
Of course, as Spider-Man. 
Luckily, you hadn’t gotten in a taxi yet. He found you sitting under a street light, crying. His heart ached, wrenching in his chest. 
Standing over you, he extended a hand.
“Let me take you home, Angel.”
Even with all the shame that befell over him, Jay was gentle with you. Even though you were the source of all his troubles, he couldn’t bring himself to treat you as anything less. In his heart, you were still the you that he knew (and loved).
Crouching down, he pushed your hair out of your face, running a thumb over your wet cheek to wipe away your tears. Patting your head, he couldn’t help but coo at your pouty face. 
He didn’t like to see you cry like this.
When Jay cupped your face, you grabbed his wrist, nuzzling your cheek into his warm palm.
“Please,” you whispered.
And who was he to refuse you?
You cried into his neck the whole way home. In a way, Jay felt like a fraud. The same person that ran you away from was the one holding you. If you knew who Spider-Man was, you’d run, too. 
“Don’t wanna go inside,” you murmured into his ear once they arrived at his apartment.
Jay stroked your hair gently. “Why not?”
“Because,” you sobbed. “Because— it’ll r-remind me of him.”
The hero frowned. “Of who?”
You cried harder. “Jay—“ you stopped yourself, only holding onto him tighter. 
“[Name],” Jay whispered against the shell of your ear. “How ‘bout I stay with you out here?”
You sniffled, glassy eyes shining in the bluish moonlight. You nodded your head profusely. Much to your surprise, Jay launched the two of you up onto the roof of the apartment complex. When you looked at him sheepishly, he simply muttered, “I go here when I want to clear my head.”
Ten minutes later, all of which were just filled with you sobbing in your drunken glory, neither of you wanted to leave your current position: Jay sitting cross-legged and you on his thigh so that he could see your face. The whole time, as you cried, Jay stroked your hair, occasionally whispering a few words of reassurance in your ear.
As you calmed down, Jay cupped your cheek. You must have been beginning to sober up, because you resisted his touch, pulling away to hide your face. 
“[Name],” he said against the shell of your ear, delicate fingers grasping your chin. “[Name], look at me.”
Rich from someone who could barely look you in the eyes right now.
“Nooo,” you whined, bringing a stray strand of hair to cover your eyes. “It’s embarrassing.”
Jay cracked a grin under his mask. “What’s there to be embarrassed about?” you didn't respond. “Yer embarrassed about crying in front of Spider-Man?”
“Am not!” you shot at him, but the way you continued to hide your face told Jay everything he had to know. “H-Hey!”
Jay forced your face to turn to his. He ran his thumb across your cheek, caressing your puffy and tear-stained skin. “Talk to me, Gorgeous.” Your lips pursed into a pout. “What happened? Did someone do something to make you cry? Do I gotta fight someone?”
Yeah, yourself.
He knew the answer to that.you were going to cry again, wail about how much you hated Jay Park, how disgusted and horrified you were with Jay Park, how it was him, that bastard of a man, that made you cry. Jay knew he wasn’t emotionally prepared for what you were going to say, but he wanted to hear it from your lips for some reason. He would at least gain some closure, even if it meant rubbing salt into the wound before he was going to inevitably beat himself up over it later.
But to his surprise, you shook your head. 
“No one did anything,” you sniffled.
“B-But–”
You looked down at your hands sadly. “It was my fault.”
How could it be your fault? Jay was certain that it was his.
“I’m such a bitch,” you breathed. “He… H-He didn’t even do anything– I– I wanted him– so bad– But I pushed him away…”
Jay tightened his hold around you. “What… What are you talking about?”
“If I talk about it, I’ll start crying again,” you murmured. When Jay gave your head a soft pat, whispering, “I won’t make fun of ya if you do,” into your ear, you took a deep breath. You turned over your shoulder to gaze at him. “But you have to promise not to tell anyone though.”
It wasn’t like Jay heard you say that though.
Because he might have been too fucking enraptured by you.
The yellow-marble moon shone behind her, giving you an ethereal backlit glow. Even so, the lights of the bustling city reflected off the sparkling luster of tears collecting in your wide eyes. Your hair was endearingly disheveled, and your nose and ears were getting sensitive from the cold night air. You were probably the loveliest person he ever-
No. He should stop.
Jay extended a pinky finger. “Promise.”
You sucked in another deep breath, fiddling with the hem of your dress. 
“Me and Park… We got drunk and almost…” you trailed off, hoping that he would get what you were trying to say. He hummed, signaling that he did. You opened your mouth to continue, but frustrated, shove your face into your hands, letting out a whimper. “And then… our friends walked in on us– And– I just– Felt so embarrassed.”
Embarrassed.
That word stung.
Your eyes began to quell, and the wet sniffles started again. “I got angry, I got so– Fucking angry– and I just began yelling and h-hitting him–” you cut yourself off with a sob, to which Jay squeezed your hand.
He let you cry into his shoulder.
“He– He–” you sobbed. “He looked so hur– hurt. A-And that’s why I-I’m crying!”
Jay sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. He urged you on, rubbing circles on your back. 
You used the back of your hand to wipe your tears. “J-Jay–” His ears perked up at the sound of his name. You almost never called him by his first name. “Jay-fucking-Park makes me feel so-”
Jay braced himself.
“-weird. I-I thought I hated him… B-But–” you squeezed Jay’s hand– “I…. I think I.. I…Ugh!”
You smashed your wet face into Jay’s shoulder in frustration. In his complete and utter bewilderment (you truly didn’t hate him?) Jay let out an airy chuckle. Feeling his chest rumble, you groaned, giving him a smack.
“Y-You said you wouldn’t l-laugh!”
Jay stopped, giving your head another pat. “Sorry, sorry. Ya said that Jay makes you feel weird? Whaddya mean by that?”
You ran a hand through your hair. “Tha- That’s the problem: I don’t know!”
You looked up at him helplessly, grappling onto his wrist. “Help me, Spider-Man!”
Jay let out another airy chuckle. “I mean, how do ya feel around him?”
You glared at him incredulously. “H-He– I normally d-don’t feel anything!-- But re-recently I feel… Hot.”
“Hot?”
“Like, like I’m about to b-burst!”
Jay studied your face. “Do… Do you just hate him?”
“I-It’s not hate!”
“Then I don’t know!”
“Spiiiider-Maaaan!”
He didn’t want to say it. Even suggesting it was probably too emotionally-wrecking for the two of you.
“Do you… have a crush on him then?”
You flopped over him.
“?!”
With your body thrown over his shoulder, you shoved your face into your hands, letting out a drawn-out groan. There’s a pulse of silence. 
Jay clenched his fists. There was a lot to take in. It could be the alcohol lingering in his system, or the overwhelming emotions he felt, but he genuinely could not process anything right now. He’ll sleep on it. All he knew was that he was on-edge.
You responded to his question with an inaudible, muffled, mumble. 
From the way that you stilled against him, not even uttering a sound, it must have been an utterance to yourself, something that he wasn’t supposed to hear.
You clearly didn’t want to confront it, so he won’t force you to.
With little thought, Jay frowned while he traced shapes against your thigh, while you were still sniffling away. You two sat in a comfortable silence, soaking in the moonlight.
“Did you just draw a poop?” you blurted.
“Yeah,” Jay replied. His gloved finger, laced with mischief, traced another figure– consisting of two circles and a long tube.
“I don’t even want to say what you just drew!”
Jay snorted. Wrapping his arms around your hips, the hero hoisted you up momentarily, before lifting you off his shoulder and onto his lap. It was only when you let out a short squeak when he realized that your legs were now draped on either side of his hips.
He deadpanned.
This scene has happened before.
But instead of you pushing him away and punching his chest, you simply giggled, cold hands coming up to grab his masked face. Jay was startled when you pulled his face closer to yours.
“[Na–”
You tried to squeeze his cheek under the mask. When you felt plush, warm skin, your face lit up. “Woahhh!”
“Why’re you so surprised?”
You squished his masked cheek again. “You’re real!”
Another thing about you that enamored him: your naïvete and nearly innocent nature (but only sometimes, when you weren’t trying to kick his ass).
Jay chuckled. “Of course I am. Didja think that I was fake?”
You hummed. Then ,you cupped his cheek, before pedicured fingers slithered toward the juncture between his ear and neck. You fingered the cloth there. Jay’s breath caught in his throat.
“I’ve always wondered who’s behind this mask,” you thought aloud, caressing his neck. Your voice was low and light, like a whisper.
Jay felt like a middle school boy; he was getting nervous just by how close you were to him. He could smell your perfume, and even your breath against his neck. His heart hammered in his chest.
“You…” he rasped, voice deep. “You don’t wanna know.”
“But I do!” you giggled. “Do I know you in real life?”
“Err… I can’t answer that.”
“Awwww.”
You stared at him, before cracking another grin. “I don’t care who you are in real life. I’d still be your friend.”
Jay quirked a brow. He slunk his arm back around your waist, pulling you in closer. 
“What if I was someone you hated?” he murmured. His dark eyes locked onto yours. Such an indulgent question. He was opening himself up to get hurt, but for some reason, he didn’t care.
“I wouldn’t care,” you breathed. “I’d love you either way.”
He knew that was a lie.
That night, you fell asleep in his arms up on the rooftop.
When he snuck back into his apartment, he placed you down on his bed, tucked you in, and whispered, “Good night, Pretty.”
The moment that he shut that bedroom door, Jay felt weak to his knees. His heart rate was picking up, nose suddenly becoming runny. He was in the middle of chanting, “Don’t cry,” to himself when the first tear rolled down his face.
A hand reached up to clasp his mouth tightly as he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t wake you or Wonnie up.
Jay didn’t know how long he cried sitting with his back against the bedroom door, but when he was done, he felt dizzy.
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Jay went on an early morning patrol.
He didn’t get much sleep, but that sleep was indeed helpful in clearing his mind.
As he swung from building to building, occasionally scaring off criminals and sketchy people alike, his mind was occupied with thoughts about last night. It was hard to rationalize last night, and while it still was hard, the cool morning air kissed his cheeks just enough to give him the calm to think.
Okay, so, she doesn't think I’m disgusting, I didn’t actually do anything wrong, she was just embarrassed. I make her feel weird, and she might actually hate me. She says that she would still love me if I was… me, but like, “me” as in “Spider-Man” and the other “me” as me, Jay Park, and–
God, this was frustrating.
Even if you didn’t blame him, there was no way he could face you or any of your friends as Jay. His friends were blabbermouths. Everyone and their mothers probably knew by now the events that transpired.
His anguish built up. So much so that even when Jay was disarming a knife-bearing mugger, he couldn’t bring himself to make a few snarky remarks. His body was moving on its own, jumping around and soaring through the air. His mind was in a world of its own, running and drilling with little break, just mulling over all the possibilities.
He didn’t notice the time (three hours later) until all the delis and flower stores began opening up for the day. Plopping down onto one of the hedges on top of a building, Jay only realized how out-of-it he was; his legs were plagued with an abnormal ache, and his chest pushed out air using labored lungs.
Jay pulled off his mask, letting the cool air hit his face. He took a deep breath, peering down at the quiet bustle beginning to spread throughout the city.
He was about to sit there and contemplate, probably reflect on himself or simply relax. 
However, an ear-splitting ringing sound cut through the air.
Beep beep!
“Shit,” he muttered, slipping his phone out of the seamless pocket attached to his suit’s leg. “Whaddya need, Wonnie?”
“Mayday, mayday!” his brother whisper-yelled into his ear.  “Code red! I repeat: code red!”
“Why’re you whispering?” Jay jumped to his feet. He sensed the urgency in Wonnie’s voice on the other line, slipping back into his mask. “What happened?”
“I’m at school right now,” Wonnie hissed. “It’s your girlfriend!”
The man prepared for mobility, rubbing his wrists. “I don’t have a girlfrie– And why are you calling me at school right now?”
“Aghh!” Wonnie cried. “It’s [Name]!”
“Did something happen to her?” Jay’s voice immediately switched to a serious tone. He flexed his muscles, suddenly becoming hyper-alert of his surroundings. His eyes scanned the surrounding area. 
Jay heard fumbling on the other side of the phone, presumably Wonnie almost getting caught by a teacher or something. “Okay, okay. Downtown– the skyscraper along the greenbelt– yes, that one! Doctor Discotheque; I think he’s hanging her!”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jay grumbled. 
He was on top of a retail store. If Jay’s urban design professor was correct, then there should be a big stretch of apartments in the next few hundred kilometers. In the center should be the CBD. The only issue was that those apartments were dense. If he wants to drill past them in time, then he would need to be quick.
With just his enhanced spider-sight, Jay could see all those hundred kilometers ahead, straight to the central business district. Doctor Discotheque was standing at the top of the downtown skyscraper, and apparently he ditched the massive mechanical body that the “high-tech science shit” gifted him. Instead, the supervillain wore a sleek spandex suit. Doctor Discotheque was laughing villainously, because next to him was a crane hanging right at the edge of the building. The silhouette that was dangling from the crane was you yourself.
Jay heaved. 
Let’s fucking do this.
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“Spider-Man did it better, by the way.”
“If you keep talking, I will drop you off the side of this building.”
You couldn’t even be surprised anymore. Somehow getting kidnapped by a supervillain was less outlandish than making out with you enemy twice.
This morning, when you were just starting to leave for class, the window shot open, revealing a goofy-looking villain in purple spandex that he totally didn’t rip off of Spider-Man. Seriously, it was the tackiest outfit ever. He had a sparkly panel as a recurring design motif and it seriously was not good.
Nowy ou were suspended 400 meters in the air, with your feet fastened to the lift of a construction crane. You crossed your arms over your chest. 
You should be scared. You really should. For God’s sake, you were dangling upside down over a busy road from an unsteady crane on top of a building that was 400 meters tall. 
But the sight of a supervillain wearing a sparkly suit was too unserious. If there was anything to be afraid of, it would be Doctor Discotheque’s little villain costume.
“Nice outfit, Sparkle Boy.”
And besides, you knew that Spider-Man would save you.
Doctor Discotheque ignored your not-so-subtle jab at his suit, too busy scanning the sky for a certain red and blue - clad superhero.
In fact, that really pissed you off.
How dare he, a sloppily-dressed, dilapidated-looking, old geezer, kidnap you and threaten your life? And when you tried to talk to him, he just ignored you? Such a poorly-designed supervillain. 2/10 from you.
“Hey!” you yelled from where you were dangling. “Hey, you! Purple Wurple!”
Doctor Discotheque ignored you again.
You huffed. “You motherfucker! How dare you ignore me!”
Nothing from him.
“Hey, answer me! Doctor Disgusting!”
Finally, the supervillain snapped his head at you.
“It’s Doctor Discotheque, not Doctor Disgusting,” he spat.
You snorted. “It’s a good thing you became a supervillain, and not a villain-namer, because wow, ‘Doctor Discotheque’ might be the worst deed you’ve ever committed.”
Doctor Discotheque narrowed his eyes at you, before a wide smirk spread across his face. “I had higher standards for Spider-Man.”
When you glared at him, he continued.
“I can’t believe he could date such a wretched person like you.”
“Date?”
“You seem more surprised at that than me kidnapping you,” Doctor Discotheque muttered. He observed your scrunched expression, his grin widening. “I saw you and Spider-Man getting cozy last night on the rooftop. Never knew that he would go for a woman as insufferable as you.”
“Hey, we’re not–”
“And, if you don’t shut your mouth,” the villain spoke through tight lips, “I’ll throw you off this building.”
Before you could retort, the man’s hand reached for the remote console that controlled the crane. Gloved hand palming the joystick, Doctor Discotheque let out a low chuckle, before giving it an experimental pull. Immediately, the lift of the crane shakily lowered.
“H-Hey–!”
He played around with the controls, philandering around as if it was some kind of children’s toy.
“You– You little bitch!” you, though shaky from the mobility, yelled. “F-Fuck you and your sp–sparkly spandex!
Doctor Discotheque let out another low chuckle, before pressing a button. You weren't sure about the mechanics of a crane remote console, but it started shaking the lift from side to side. The crane must have been old, because the parts were moving so shakily. The lift was quite literally rocking in the sky, swinging you around slowly.
“One more word from you, and I’ll be releasing you,” Doctor Discotheque mused. “And by the way, it’s not spandex. It’s lycra.”
You were seriously considering shutting up. Your stomach did flips now that you looked down at the vast expanse of the city below you. The sound of cars rushing across the road, as well as the distressed crowd that was now gathering under the skyscraper, police cars with their loud sirens, and camera shutters did not calm you in the slightest. It was a miracle that your glasses were still intact at this point.
And still, Spider-Man was nowhere in sight.
Wait.
Spider-Man.
Your eyes flickered toward the villain.
There must be a reason that Doctor Discotheque kidnapped you. Other than the fact that he was, in fact, a supervillain, there must be another reason for his evildoing.
Why would someone want to kidnap a broke college student, unless there was something to gain from it?
There truly was only one thing notable about Doctor Discotheque, other than his horrible costume. And it was that he had major beef with Spider-Man. Unfortunately for him, Doctor Discotheque let it slip that he thought you and Spider-Man were dating. 
It was a perfect plan.
Use Spider-Man’s girlfriend against him.
The only issue was that Spider-Man had not yet arrived on the scene yet. Heck, no one even knew if he knew of the situation yet.
Doctor Discotheque wasn’t going to do anything to you. Not until Spider-Man made an appearance.
“Y’know, Doctor Disgusting,” you shouted. “You suck!”
Doctor Discotheque deadpanned. “Foolish woman! Did you not hear what I just said–”
“Drop me,” you demanded. You thrashed around, flailing your arms so that the rope fastening you to the lift shook. “Drop me, you fucking bitch! I dare you!”
Doctor Discotheque stilled. He said nothing, just simply grumbling something under his breath and dropping the remote control to the concrete ground.
You watched him, proud of yourself.
But there were bigger problems up ahead now.
Spider-Man was nowhere in sight. This maniac might actually do something to you if Spider-Man didn’t show up on time. With the size of this commotion– road blocks, traffic issues, a giant crowd pooling at the base of the skyscraper– it was no doubt that the spider-like hero should be on his way.
“Hey, fuckface!” 
A familiar confident and charming voice cut through the air suddenly.
Lo and behold, it was the great Spider-Man.
“Spider-Man-!” you blurted, relief washing over you.
Doctor Discotheque let out a laugh. That laugh became a cackle, before he was howling. Except, it wasn’t really laughing out of amusement, but him pushing air from his chest to create a sound. 
“So you’ve decided to show yourself, Spider-Man,” Doctor Discotheque rasped. He snatched the crane remote control off the ground, and fiddled with the controls just enough to shake you. You let out a small shriek. “One wrong move and this little girlfriend of yours will be dropped.”
Spider-Man clenched his fists.
“So choose wisely,” the villain furbished the remote with his fingers. “Or you'll be toppling to your death in no-time.”
Jay had to be quick with this. 
All eyes were on him, and you were genuinely endangered.
Doctor Discotheque’s main goal was and had always been to humiliate Spider-Man. Jay had no idea what types of things he had hidden up his sleeve, but if he was going far enough to endanger a civilian, it must be bad. 
Like his name would imply, Doctor Discotheque had the ability to generate sounds that transpired the ordinary human sonic level. A.K.A. Doctor Discotheque had a loud voice.
An ability like that would be extremely dangerous, considering that large sound waves are capable of killing people. Except, Jay had a crucial piece of information, thanks to the invaluable research of Wonnie: Doctor Discotheque’s body was not suited for his own ability.
While Doctor Discotheque was capable of pushing air from his diaphragm and vibrating his vocal cords, his own ears could not take it. Usually, those with superhuman abilities would have different bodily functions to accommodate the harm that the abilities would have. For example, those with fire abilities would have cooler and fire-resistant bodies in order to sustain the aptitude. Unfortunately, Doctor Discotheque did not have that.
That meant that while Doctor Discotheque could do basically anything with his voice, he wouldn’t, because that would bring physical harm to his own self, too.
The only issue: if defeated, Doctor Discotheque might take on a “if I die, I’ll take everyone with me” attitude.
Jay had to be strategic.
“If you don’t attack, Spider-Man,” Doctor Discotheque started. The villain sucked in a large breath, “I’ll destroy your eardrums!”
That last part was at least 90 decibels. Jay could tell by the way that Doctor Discotheque himself winced at the sound.
What a dumbass.
“I can’t believe I have to deal with you again, man.”
Jay shot a web to the water tanks behind Doctor Discotheque, thrusting him across the rooftop, which allowed him to extend his right leg in order to land a kick at the villain. The villain dodged his kick by stepping to the side. However, Jay’s lightning-fast reflexes saw that one coming, so he swerved his body to the right to attempt another kick. His elevated heel succeeded in scraping the crown of Doctor Discotheque’s head.
The villain stumbled backward, but continued to evade Jay. Shooting a web, the hero attempted to bring Doctor Discotheque to him, but he dodged it once again. Jay had to give him credit: he had pretty good reflexes.
Jay shot a web to the hedge the villain was next to, hoping to launch himself at him, but before he could, Doctor Discotheque landed a punch square on Jay’s nose.
“Ow! What the fuck, man?” Jay’s eyes watered at the impact. How embarrassing.
Jay continued his venture to wrap this guy in his webs, shooting multiple webs at once. A few of them landed, but Doctor Discotheque was able to dodge them.
“Come on, old man!” Jay grumbled. Finally, one of his webs effectively landed on the villain’s shoulder, allowing for Jay to grapple him toward him. Before Doctor Discotheque could react, the masked hero blasted him with a bunch of more webs, slathering him in those sticky white strings. 
The supervillain struggled against Spider-Man’s iron grip. Even with the tight webs binding him, Jay could feel him suck in a deep breath, an indicator that he was about to utilize that loud voice of his.
If Jay didn’t move now, his eardrums might actually get bursted.
Jay jumped away from Doctor Discotheque, except he kept his webs attached to him so that his previous binding work would not be rendered useless. Jay whipped his head around, eyeing your dangling figure.
“Cover your ears!” he shouted, before doing so himself. Doctor Discotheque let out a shrill screech, and although the sound was only large enough to send a vibration through Jay’s body, that was because Jay had the aid of superhuman abilities.
Everything else around them? Absolutely not.
The glass of surrounding buildings shattered, while the metal crane that was dangling you shook profusely. You screamed.
Shit, shit, shit.
While Jay was distracted, Doctor Discotheque squirmed free of the webs, crawling to the remote console he dropped to the ground earlier.
“Let’s play with your girlfriend,” the villain glowered. With that, he began tinkering with the controls of the console, shaking you around on the lift. This time, though, he was literally pressing all the buttons, giving you little time to anticipate what was coming next. The movement of the crane was unadulterated, so you shrieked in fear. 
“Are you gonna save her, Spider-Man?” Doctor Discotheque mocked.
Jay clenched his fists. It was a lot more important to save you before anything else. He could deal with this maniac later.
“Don’t you fucking dare, Spider-Man!” Much to his surprise, it was you yelling at him. “Don’t worry about me, just kick this lunatic’s ass!”
“How adorable!” Doctor Discotheque cooed. 
Jay wasn’t about to let a civilian, much less you, be in a position of severe danger. But Doctor Discotheque has been getting too confident and talking out of his ass too much.
Maybe he could do both.
If Jay could debilitate Doctor Discotheque, he could take the remote control. If he takes the remote control, he could easily save you.
When Jay started toward Doctor Discotheque, the villain let out a laugh. “You’re just going to ignore your little girlfriend like tha–”
“Shut– up!” Jay knocked him down with a kick to the cheek. 
When Doctor Discotheque was knocked to the ground, he dropped the remote control, too. However, the remote dropped face-down, so with the impact of its collision, it bursted and shattered into several pieces. The crane began to malfunction, waving around its lift erratically. The excessive movement made the ear-splitting sound of rust rubbing against itself. 
Not good. 
The head of the engineering department at the university always warned them about rusty construction tools. 
Oh, not good at all.
You screamed. Still pinning Doctor Discotheque’s hands to his sides, Jay grunted, snapping his head to you.
“Don- Don’t– Ah!-” you breathed. “Don’t worry about me!”
Jay clenched his jaw.
“I-I’m serious!” you squeezed your eyes shut. “I’m not sc-scared, or anything!”
No. That wasn’t true.
All those times that he carried you through the sky.
“Stop making fun of me, Spider-Man!” you lightly slapped his chest. “I’m just…– Eep!--” you squeezed his bicep again– “Scared of heights.”
The crane squeaked, as its spasms slowed. Except, its slowing down meant nothing. It only continued creaking. It was unstable, and by the looks of it, even Jay couldn’t guarantee that it wouldn’t snap off.
Doctor Discotheque threw his head back against the concrete ground, letting out another chortle. Before he could say anything, Jay raised his fist and punched him straight in the diaphragm. The villain groaned in pain, and before he could recover, Jay planted another punch in the abdomen, and another one square in the nose.
A punch in the diaphragm should debilitate him for just enough time to save you.
Jay swung toward the lift of the crane.
You were tied to it by the feet. The only way to get you to the roof was to operate the crane so that it was hanging over the building, or untie you. The former was impossible now, so the second option was the only option.
“I-I told you to–!” 
“[Name], you yell a lot.” Jay didn’t realize how out-of-character it was for Spider-Man to say that, but currently, he was plagued with urgency. He had to be serious.
You shut your mouth immediately.
“[Name], I’m going to untie you,” Jay instructed. “You are going to fall.”
“Wh-What?”
Jay was already untying the ropes. Which was oddly easy. 
Why were the ropes so loosely tied? 
He clenched his teeth.
He was going to destroy that maniac for putting you in harm’s way.
“When I untie your feet, you’re going to fall,” Jay asserted. When he heard your breath hitch, he sighed. His gaze on you softened. “Don’t worry, Pretty. I’ll catch you.”
There was one loop left to unknot. Your eyes widened as you felt your feet slowly slip.
“You ready?” Jay stared into your eyes. 
“Y-Yeah.”
He sensed the fear in your voice. “I got you, Baby.”
He untied the last knot. Immediately, you began falling down multiple stories. Your arms thrashed, and your eyes squeezed shut. You let out a loud, yet strained scream.
But then you stopped. Because you felt strong arms grip your waist.
“Spider-Man!” you cried, pressing your face into his neck, holding him tighter than you ever had before. Your eyes were watery with fear.
“What did I say, Angel?” You could hear the grin in his voice. “I got you.”
Jay swung the two of you up to the top of the skyscraper. He let you down at a roof-like structure at the very back of the roof.
“Stay here.”
“But you–”
“[Name], I need you to stay here,” Jay said, squeezing your arm. “Please.”
You sighed. “Fine.”
With that, he swung back to the front to fight Doctor Discotheque.
At that point, Doctor Discotheque was still coughing and heaving from the punch to the diaphragm, but was able to stand.
“I’m surprised you could still stand, you old geezer,” Jay mocked.
Now that you were safe, he regained his humor.
“Spider-Man, you may have beaten me three times, but not a fourth ti– AGH!”
Jay punched him. “Shut up!”
Then, Doctor Discotheque kicked Jay in the stomach. From there, they engaged in hand-to-hand combat. It was a shaky fight: Doctor Discotheque had decent strength, so his punches were indeed strong, but Jay had lightning reflexes that allowed him to dodge. Soon, Doctor Discotheque backed the hero up against the electricity pole. 
“Little punks like you–” Doctor Discotheque, finally, landed a successful punch to Jay’s cheek, eliciting a groan- “Need to know your place.”
Doctor Discotheque took a deep breath.
Fuck.
He was going to scream.
He couldn’t scream loud enough to kill or severely harm Jay because he would be inflicting that same pain to himself as well. But he could definitely debilitate him with a single scream.
Doctor Discotheque opened his mouth, his chest rising and falling to widen his vocal cords. 
Just as the villain was going to scream Jay deaf, he freed his hand from Doctor Discotheque’s grip. Jay punched the villain’s mouth. More specifically, he shoved his fist in his mouth.
Doctor Discotheque sunk his teeth into Jay’s fists, but he just ignored him. Instead, Jay pushed his fist deeper into his mouth, further lodging it in.
With the agility of a spider, he attached a web to the villain. With nimble, yet confident, fingers, Jay spurted webs to bind his hands and feet together. In between, he landed punch after punch and kick after kick at the man.
“Just” punch “go” punch “away” punch “already!”
The villain was now biting into Jay’s fist so hard now that he was sure the fabric was ripping. 
“Fuck!” Jay kicked him square in the abdomen, sending him flying across the rooftop. When he looked at his fist, it was bleeding with teeth marks. Whatever.
Jay approached Doctor Discotheque’s keeling figure. The villain coughed blood, hair frazzled with sweat and sticking to his forehead. The superhero stood over him.
Then, Doctor Discotheque started sobbing.
?!
“I… I did it all for my son,” the villain quivered, tears streaming down his cheeks. “My son… My beautiful son…”
Son.
Jay never had a father. The only person closest to a father was his uncle, who already died, leaving him to take care of his kid brother. 
“My– My so-son,” Doctor Discotheque sobbed. “He– He always wanted a c-cool dad.”
???
“I th-thought if I fought you… he would th-think his dad w-was cool!”
Jay took a deep breath. “And you can be a cool dad. If you just spent time with him instead of fighting me.”
“N-No,” Doctor Discotheque sniffled. “H-He’s obs–  obsessed with Spider-Ma-Man.”
Jay sighed. He crouched down beside the man. 
“Doctor Discotheque,” he began. “I didn’t have a father. I’d do anything to just spend time with him. Your son will love you ten times more if you were just there for him.”
“R-Really?” Doctor Discotheque looked up at him with watery eyes.
“Yes.”
There was a pulse of silence. Doctor Discotheque stared at Jay, before his fingers twitched. Before he could do anything, a loud clang! rang through the air.
“[Name]…!”
You, with a metal rod, wacked Doctor Discotheque in the back of his head, sending him forward.
“I don’t fucking care!” you spat at him. You were breathing heavily, before your eyes met Jay’s.
“[Name]... what are you–”
You dropped the metal rod. You grabbed the villain’s face, slapping him. 
“I don’t fucking care about you and your son!” Slap. “You wreak havoc on this city and you expect us to forgive you because you have a tragic sob story?!” Slap.“You almost killed me!” Slap.  “You’re wearing sparkly spandex!” Slap. “No wonder your son doesn’t think you’re cool!” Slap. “You bitch!”
“[Name], that’s enough…!”
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The aftermath of the incident was nothing to sneeze at.
Your face, as well as Doctor Discotheque, was plastered all over the news. Speaking of which, Doctor Discotheque was revealed to be some middle-aged professor, and was taken into custody for a court hearing.
It had only been a few hours ago since Spider-Man dropped you home. Meanwhile, he said that he had some “business” to attend to. Probably interviews and reporters.
It was the middle of the afternoon by now. The apartment was completely silent. Wonnie was still at school. And… Jay. 
You bit your lip as you remembered what happened the night before. 
You felt your neck and cheeks heat up. You really kissed him, touched him, whispered lewd words into his ear– Oh my god, you had to apologize to him! 
You brought two fingers to your lip.
His lips were chapped and the lip-piercing pressed against your lip in a way that was almost painful, but for some reason, the thought just sent butterflies in your stomach. His hands were so big, holding onto you with a desperate grip.
You shoved your face into your hands, squeezing your eyes shut.
How embarrassing!
How were you going to face Jay Park? 
Why were you worried?
“Do you… have a crush on him then?” Spider-Man’s words echoed through your mind.
Did you?
It would make a great deal of sense. 
Why you were feeling this way, why you got so angry last night, why you’d  been thinking about him at night for the past five years. 
Your heart began speeding up at the thought of having a crush on Jay Park. Not just the absurdity of the idea, but because you felt so childish. You were an adult now. How could you have such a petulant crush?
But then again, Jay Park made you feel childish. Like you were some middle schooler, all immature and giggly.
Before you could dig yourself further into a hole, a tapping came from the window. Stalking over to the sill, you spotted a red-and-blue-clad hero. 
He was lowering himself upside-down in his iconic stance, hanging onto a single spider web.
“Spider-Man!” you exclaimed.
“Hey there, Angel,” the hero grinned behind the mask when you opened the window. He was about to climb through when the unexpected happened. “H-Hey, what are you–!”
You grasped his upside-down face. You tore down his mask just enough to reveal the bottom half of his face, and pressed your lips onto his.
It was a chaste kiss, not meant to be sexual. Simply innocent.
Except, it felt familiar.
It was a soft kiss, but you could feel the hero’s lips. They were chapped, and there was a cold piece of metal on his lip. Like a lip-piercing.
When you pulled away, you gazed at Spider-Man’s half-exposed face, which wore an awkward, boxy smile.
“That’s what you get for saving me all those times,” you breathed.
Spider-Man’s lips curved. “What are you, a fairytale princess?”
You grinned. “You saved me like I was one.”
“Just my duty, Gorgeous.”
You caressed Spider-Man’s skin. Just like you expected, he had a strong jaw and sharp nose. His cheeks were a honey-tan color, with a twinge of red. 
And most notably, his lips.
Chapped, pink, but plump.
And pierced.
Her thumb pressed onto the piercing. 
His breath hitched.
You've seen that lip-piercing before.
You've stared at a certain somebody’s lips for long enough to recognize it.
No. It can’t be.
You touched his face, tracing his features slowly. 
“Spider-Man,” you drew out your syllables. “Can you stand up normally? I want to check something.”
The hero silently complied, climbing through the window sill. When he stood in front of you, swiping a tongue over his pierced bottom lip, you swallowed down hard.
Please.
In one, quick movement, you pushed Spider-Man against the wall, sliding your hands up his chest. Your hands slithered to his toned arms, grappling onto his wrists to pin above his head.
Your heart was about to fall out of yourc hest. You were breathless, eyes trained onto the hero’s lips.
A pedicured hand came up to grasp his chin.
“Are you Park?” you asked in a near-whisper. “Please. Please tell me. Are you Jay Park?”
Spider-Man stilled in your hold. He sucked in a sharp breath, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Please,” you whispered.
As you gazed at him with wide, pleading eyes, Spider-Man was able to free one of his hands. Slowly, he grasped the tight material of his mask. He pulled the fabric up and over his eyes, before freeing his entire head and face.
What was revealed?
Dark hair. Dark eyes. Tan skin. A sharp nose. And that goddamn lip piercing.
Jay Park.
You audibly gasped. Your hold on his one wrist weakened, dropping all the way when you brought both hands up to clasp your gaping mouth.
Jay looked at you with an ashamed expression, yet his eyes were locked onto yours. He parted his lips to say something, but no sound came out.
This entire time… it was him?
Your body moved on its own.
You grabbed his face, and smashed your lips against his.
At first, Jay was completely still. 
But after a few seconds, he let out a low grunt against your lips, slithering his arms around your waist. That earned a small squeal from you, giving him the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth. Your hands roamed, sliding up and down his chest before resting in his hair. When you pulled on his dark locks, he groaned softly, allowing you to push his tongue out and put yours into his mouth.
Jay gave your waist a warning squeeze, as if to say, “Don’t try that on me.” But you only smirked against his lips, sliding your hand up his head to grab a fistful of his hair and pulling it.
When you pulled away from each other, you were breathless, both flushed in the face with blown-out, desire-filled eyes. You stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity.
“You…” you blinked. Then, your face contorted. With a fist, you began hitting his chest. “It was you this whole time? It was… It was you who carried me home, who took me out, who saved me, who– who comforted me when I cried!
“Why didn’t you listen to me when I told you to not worry about me?!” you continued pounding his chest. “And why the fuck would you try to sympathize with that lunatic?! You could have been hurt– He might have pulled out a knife, or something! I was so worried that he’d pull a fast one and try to stab you, you stupid, stupid, stupid–!”
It was Jay’s turn to smash his lips against yours.
Almost immediately, you stopped all of your movement, melting into the kiss.
“You’re-” Jay mumbled against your lips- “You’re always such a fucking brat.”
He laced his fingers with hers, holding your hands tightly. "Always givin' me hell, you know that?"
He was rough, a lot more rough than you imagined, but it wasn't like you were opposed to it. You tried to say something, squeezing his hands. You got a few sounds out, but they were all muffled by his kissing.
“Shut up,” Jay breathed against your lips. “Just shut the fuck up and let me kiss you.”
You whined, causing him to smirk.
This kiss was much more heated than any previous ones you’ve had with him. And also much messier.
When you finally pulled away, your lips were swollen, connected by a single string of spit.
“Oh my god,” you mewled, gripping onto Jay’s bicep. “Fuck, please, Jay.”
Jay swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. You never called him by his name like this. “‘Please’ what, Angel?”
“I want you,” you looked up at him with wide and glassy eyes, the same ones that he’s seen in his guiltiest dreams. “Oh my god, please, I want you so bad, Jay.”
“Are you gonna yell and hit me like last time?” he teased, hands already sliding down to grip your hips.
You pressed a wet kiss to his jaw. “Only if you won’t leave me in the middle of a hallway drunk like last time.”
You both stared at each other for a few moments, with cocked brows and narrowed eyes, neither of you wanting to relent your pride. Then, at the same time, broke out into a fit of laughter.
“I have high expectations for you, Park.”
“I won’t disappoint you, you fuckin’ nerdo freak.”
FIN.
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part 1 here
935 notes · View notes
marlenesluv · 4 months
Text
charles + over-worked uni gf (hc)
note: i personally love when im doing hw, and then i find one of these “f1 driver x uni!gf!reader” fics cuz im like “omg me and i love this driver!” so i hope, if you are in uni, that you take breaks and make sure you’re eating, drinking water, and sleeping. ik it’s easy to skip these things <3
paining: charles leclerc x uni!reader (max near the end)
warnings: fluff but it goes to smut…oops, couldn’t resist. slight exhibitionism with max (i went off topic mb)
head-cannon: charles’ gf is overworking herself in uni, and he hates seeing her so stressed out
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۵ being charles’ girlfriend was incredible, you loved the fans, the races, and obviously, charles.
۵ but being in uni at the same time? that was hard. you spent races writing papers. plane rides were spent reading textbooks. and any free time? spent in person for lectures and study groups.
۵ and charles supported you. he understood if you couldn’t make a race because of a test. or if you needed time alone because the paddock was overstimulating along with your workload.
۵ like now, you were holed up in charles’ driving room during free practice in singapore because you had a lab due at 11:59pm, and the time in the corner of your laptop mocked you as the deadline grew closer and you grew more frustrated.
۵ charles hated seeing his girlfriend stressed. you should be in the paddock having fun, not nearly in tears in his drivers room :(
۵ so when he comes back from practice, he’s determined to spend the rest of the night with you.
۵ “pack up. we are going to get some takeout and i’ll help you study. then we can watch a movie, okay?” and it wasn’t even a question. he was already packing your books in your bag and throwing your pens in your pouch.
۵ charles helps you grab all your stuff, and hold the door open for you as you guys leave and say goodbye to the engineers.
۵ and although he had plans with carlos, carlos understands. everyone knows how much you study and work to get the grades you have. so no, carlos doesn’t mind when charles ditches him to cheer you up. he has isa to bother anyways.
۵ speaking of isa, she’s giving you a hug and telling you to relax tonight, enjoy spending time with your boyfriend.
۵ when you and charles got back to the hotel room with bags of takeout, charles makes a bed on the floor and puts your favorite movie on.
۵ “you didn’t need to do this, char. i know you’re busy, you have a race soon…” you would trail off, cuddling closer into his side.
۵ charles playfully rolls his eyes and kisses your head, he keeps telling you how much he loves you and would rather spend time with you than practice.
۵ he just wants you to de-stress, no matter what it takes…
۵ so yeah, as you’re watching the movie, charles might get a little bored, and he looks over and sees your cracking your knuckles, which he knows is a nervous habit of yours.
۵ the way you bit the inside of your cheek in attempt to calm down, and the only thing charles has going through his head is ‘you need to help her relax.’
۵ so when charles lifts the blanket off of you and helps you out of your sweats, who are you to question him? he knows you like the back of his hand.
۵ “come here, mon cherié.” charles lifts your hips, only to make you shimmy over his mouth. “char, i don’t want to-“
۵ he rolls his eyes, scoffing and making you put all your weight down.
۵ thirty minutes could go by and he wouldn’t even think about coming up for air, he is absolutely pussy drunk. all that he can think is making you cum over and over and over again.
۵ and obviously, the man is skilled, he knows how to use his tongue and fingers, having you absolutely melting above him. your hands shooting out to hold onto his hair for stability.
۵ you feel his laugh, making you gasp and squirm, which causes him to hold your hips tighter and go a little slower.
۵ this could go on for hours.
۵ his stamina is incredible, he works out all the time. if anything, it’s a neck workout since he’s holding his neck mid-air to meet your core.
۵ even when max calls to check up on him? nope, hes not stopping, he’s just carried you to the bed, fucking you as he’s talking to max.
۵ and charles doesn’t even care. max knows how stressed you are about uni, and he knows that charles calms you down. its not like charles hasn’t told him about a thousand times…
۵ max can hear charles’ grunts and how you’re trying to suppress your whines, the way charles pin your hand above your arm because he wanted max to know how good you felt.
۵ and after that night? yeah, you were definitely relaxed.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)
813 notes · View notes
ratedfleur · 4 months
Text
nsfw x links
🚫: links below contain 18+ content.
📃: enhypen, nct dream, seventeen, tbz, evnne, stray kids, kep1er, stayc, ive, aespa, loona
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[link] sunoo likes to blow off some steam by sucking off his favorite hyungs at hybe.
[link] you knew mark and renjun were fucking behind your back but then your pussy just grows wet at the sound of them fucking.
[link] sometimes vernon likes to please his sweet baby when she’s feeling a little sulky when he doesn’t properly pay attention to her.
[link] this is exactly how juyeon wants you to kiss him when you’re in control, going pliant in your hands.
[link] you and mingyu in his favorite position to put you in.
[link] most of the time, jeonghyeon likes to focus licking at your nipple whilst simultaneously touching your pussy.
[link] jaemin’s sneaky mid-game nudes.
[link] jeongin taking sneaky pics of him fucking you from behind, loving the sight of you just bending over for him and only him.
[link] sometimes dayeon likes to dress up in school uniforms to entice you to fuck her knowing that you liked corrupting her a few months ago, reliving the memory.
[link] right after an award show, another fellow idol rewarded isa with a long fuck after she received one.
[link] you liked it when liz cried underneath you, you couldn’t help but snap a picture of her just once as a memory.
[link] with karina as your girlfriend, she’s obsessed with sending you videos of her tits just so you could come over and cover them in cum.
[link] when you noticed how winter was looking stressed on the set of black mamba, you took her over to your apartment to give her a little reward for doing well.
[link] when jinsoul was feeling risky, she would purposely fuck herself in the fire exit where people could easily replace the dildo inside of her.
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© RATEDFLEUR — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
629 notes · View notes
endlessthxxghts · 5 months
Text
Need You
Husband!Frankie Morales x wife!afab!reader || W/C: ≈5k
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Summary: Tío Santi comes to the rescue when Frankie confides in him about how the two of you have been way too busy for one another.
Warnings: Crazy events of Triple Frontier don't happen; let's just give these guys some happiness. Instead of coke, Frankie’s drug is you (LMAOOO). No “y/n.” No physical descriptions of reader (besides clothing choices), she looks like you😏 and big strong man Frankie can carry you <333. Reader knows a bit of Spanish. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Oral sex (f receiving). Unprotected P in V sex. Slow and sloppy😵‍💫. Breeding kink. Domestic kink (they get really spurred on calling each other husband and wife/esposo y esposa). Possessive kink. Daddy kink (but in the sense that reader just loves seeing Frankie as a Dad and wants to give more babies to parent!!!). Pussy slapping... Cum play/eating. Vaginal fingering/fucking. Squirting. Slight Dom!Frankie (he just really wants to hear his wife beg for his cum!!). Mentions of shower ✨activities✨. A lot of love basically — physically and emotionally. Extra warning for the parents who can’t leave their child with other people — Tío Santi takes their baby out to eat and get treats; she’s in good hands, I promise!!!
A/N: Husband Frankie is rotting my brain bad. Especially girl dad!Frankie. My ovaries are screaming. So here's this little 5k bad boy I whipped up. This is very much a porn with a bit of (yummy domestic) plot. Hope y’all enjoy. Thank you to my sweet sweet bae @javierpena-inatacvest for proof-reading this and hyping me up since it’s my first Frankie story to be posted! I love you so much 🥹🥹💚 (edit: someone had a comment about why Isa is amorcito instead of amorcita, so in case you had that question as well, read my explanation here!)
MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG
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“Querida, I’m home!” Frankie called out. 
“In Isa’s room, baby!” you responded. 
Santi tagged along on his treck home today, offering to take Isa out for lunch and sweets after Frankie told him how both of you have been crazy busy lately. He helps himself to the kitchen while Frankie makes his way to you.
Frankie lightly knocks on the door before entering, gasping out in delight to earn a bubbly reaction from his three year old daughter. “Ay, mi esposa (my wife),” he exclaims, giving you a soft kiss to your lips. He looks to his daughter and grabs her from you, “y mi amorcito (and my little love),” he says, throwing her up in the air, coaxing a few more giggles out of her. 
He sets her back down to play with her toys, and Frankie turns to you, pulling you in for a proper hello. Your lips slot against each other in a needy embrace, still as reserved as you two can be with your child in the room. He pulls away first, arms not leaving your waist. “Hi, mama,” he says with an adoring smile. “Hi, honey,” you respond, heart still skipping a few beats as if it’s your first time meeting him. He guides you to outside the doorway, closing Isa’s room ajar, so you both are out of her view.
“Santi’s here,” he tells you. “He offered to, uh, take Isa out to get food and some dessert,” he adds nonchalantly, trying to gauge your reaction. It’s been three years since your baby was born, and still you’re always reluctant to leave her with others. It’s not that you don’t trust the people you leave her with, it’s the fact that if anything were to happen — Gods forbid — you wouldn’t be able to be there, to comfort and protect her. 
Your eyebrow raises in response. He squeezes you tighter into him, ducking closer to your ear. “And I was thinking,” he kisses the sweet spot near your pulse point, “we could take some time for ourselves?” He continues kissing and nipping at your neck, uttering a small please baby as he makes his way back to your lips. 
Little did Frankie know, you didn’t need any convincing at all. You were just about ready to drop her off at your parents as soon as he got home from work today. You don’t tell him though. You like hearing him be a little desperate for you. 
His hand skates lower to your ass, the other hand making its way to cup your front. “It’s been weeks, baby, I need to taste her,” he says, damn near a whine. 
You grab both sides of his face and pull him into a searing kiss. “Go pack her bag,” you whisper as you pull away from his grasp, making your way to Santi to give him the rundown. 
In record time, Frankie packs Isa’s go bag in under five minutes: diapers, extra change of clothes, baby wipes, baby Benadryl, and some of her comfort snacks just in case she’s extra picky today. He picks up his baby, assessing if she needs a diaper change — she’s dry — and heads to the kitchen. “Wanna hang with Tío Santi today, mi amor?”
Her face lights up, and she squeals, “yes, daddy, pleeeeaaase!” 
He chuckles, his heart warming at how much she loves his best friend, his brother. 
He and Isa enter the kitchen to you giving Santi the rundown on her allergies. 
“We exposed her to all the major allergens already and no reactions, except for peanuts — she gets a little red, so just watch out for that. There’ll be Benadryl in her pack just in case.”
Santi gives you a salute, “Sir, yes, sir.” 
You playfully roll your eyes at his antics. “One more thing,” you say as you go to kiss your baby goodbye. “Usually I’d ask if you could send pictures throughout the time you’re gone…” you look at Frankie. 
Santi smirks, knowing where this is headed. 
“But you don’t have to. At least for today,” your face remains composed, but the heat spreading across your cheeks exposes you. 
“Got it. No peanuts,” Santi says, reaching for the bag off Frankie’s shoulder and the keys from his pocket, “and no interruptions,” he winks at you both. “Let me know when you guys are ready for us to come back,” he looks to his beautiful niece in her mother’s arms, peppering her with goodbye kisses. 
“Vamanos (let’s go), mija!” Santi says, prying her out of your arms. Frankie reaches to give her one last kiss on her forehead, and they’re out the door. 
As soon as the front door clicks shut, Frankie is on you in an instant, too riled up to wait until you’re in the bedroom. He needs you badly, and he needs you now. He’s caging you in between his body and the kitchen counter, lips on you like he’ll die tonight if he doesn’t touch you. Your lungs are burning for air, yet you don’t pull away. You can’t. He’s too addicting. Too much time has passed without the pleasure you two bring one another, so you’ll sacrifice one survival need for another. 
Before you know it, his hands are at the base of your ass, lifting you to the kitchen counter, and his lips are dragging down your jaw, your neck, and into your cleavage, nipping every little exposed place your cropped tank allows him. His hands are at the waistband of your sweats, pulling them down as he brings himself to his knees. 
“Oh, fuck, baby,” he takes a deep breath in. His eyes are impossibly darker, demeanor turning animalistic as he feels just your sweats alone and no underwear. He gets a view of your already glistening pussy, and he can’t help the growl that leaves his throat. 
He settles his hands under the globe of your ass and scoots you to the edge, your thighs finding solace on his shoulders. You immediately lean back on your elbows, knowing the moment his mouth is on you, your body will go weak at his touch. 
Without any warning, his tongue licks the entirety of your leaking seam, hands automatically gripping you tighter as the taste of you hits his tongue. The sound that leaves you sends shivers down his spine, his cock painfully hard and leaking in his jeans. He licks you a few more times, letting his drool drip down his tongue and spread all over you, making you a soaking mess of your arousal and his spit. 
Once you’re drenched to his liking, he dives right in, face completely flushed against your sex, sloppily sucking and licking into you, hitting all the right buttons to make you see fucking stars. By his hands or his tongue, he still knows how to steer you in the direction of the most beautiful constellations, even if they are behind your eyelids. 
“Frankie, fuck-!” you yell out, your inhibitions automatically down with the fact that the house is left to the two of you. Frankie’s hips involuntarily buck into nothing at your moans, missing the sounds you always made for him. Ever since Isa was born, both of you made a conscious effort to work on your noise levels — especially you. You were the most vocal he’s ever been with, and fuck if it didn’t make him all the more whipped. He almost forgot what your sounds do to him. Almost. But now that you’ve given him a taste again after so long, he needs more. 
He circles your clit a few times and sucks it, hard. He pulls off with a lewd pop, his dominant hand leaving your ass and making its way to your entrance. You’re such a fucking mess that his two fingers slide right in, giving you the extra push Frankie needed to pull more heavenly moans and whimpers out of you. “Let me hear you, mama,” he says, tongue circling your clit as his fingers work you to the edge. “Sing for me, baby,” and with what little strength you have, you force your head forward to watch his ministrations, and the sight is what sends you falling first. Frankie’s mouth is wrapped around the entirety of you, eyes dark and on yours, his hooked nose rubbing against all the right places while his arm muscles ripple as he fucks his fingers in and out of you. 
“Shit- oh, fuck-” you whine out, your head like a bobble head, too heavy to maintain upright. Frankie curls his fingers just right, and-
 “Oh my God, Francisco, oh my God!” Your hips are bucking into his face, his own strength unable to keep your hips down with how hard your orgasm is hitting you. He lets you ride out your wave on his face, drinking every last drop coming out of you. 
His fingers are out of you now, Frankie immediately cleaning them in his mouth, not wanting to Iet any of your sweet syrup go to waste. Your chest is heaving, eyes clamped shut, and your body is entirely limp. Frankie stands to his full height, and he’s pulling you up to sit up straight, his hands guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. He chuckles a little. “Still with me?” 
Your torso loses its strength momentarily, and you almost fall back. His arms immediately wrap around you, supporting you to maintain your upright position. You laugh at yourself, a blissed out smile gracing your face. He feels his heart flutter, just as strong as when he first met you. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here, you monster,” you lightly laugh, resting your head on him. “God, I love you,” your voice slightly muffled from burrowing yourself into his chest. 
His one hand leaves your back and wraps itself around your jaw, bringing your lips up to his. You can taste yourself on him, and you can already feel another fire being lit deep in your core, your arousal dripping onto the kitchen counter as your lips continue with his. 
You pull away, breathless, ready for more. “Take me to bed, baby.” 
“You sure you’re ready now?” He smirks. 
“Keep teasing, and I won’t let you cum inside of me, big boy.” 
His lips find yours again in a bruising manner, a growl leaves him as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. “Last I checked, you were the one begging for me to fuck my cum so deep inside you that it had no other option but to latch on. If that’s what you want again, baby, all you gotta do is ask.” 
You whimper in response, your spurt of dominance dissipating immediately. 
“That what you want, baby? Come on, tell me. I wanna hear it.” 
Your eyes are glossing over, too pent up with a fertile need to get your brain to come up with any kind of response. His grasp on your jaw tightens, his lips ghosting yours as he talks. “Tell me you want my cum, baby. Tell me you want me to fill you up so fucking full of me.” 
“Yes, baby, fuck, I need you. I need you inside of me, I need you to fill me. Please, you’re such a good daddy, I wanna give you more, please,” you ramble on. His mouth is on you again in a sloppy embrace as he picks you up and guides you two to your bedroom. 
He sets you down at the edge of the bed. He guides your shirt off, then his. He pulls back for a second and shucks his bottoms off, giving you a complete view of his tanned and toned naked body, his little tummy a little soft around the edges. Your pussy is crying at the sight. 
You don’t waste anymore time as you settle yourself to the center of your bed, your legs already falling open with muscle memory. Frankie licks his lips at the sight. Part of him just wants to go down on you again, but the way his cock is screaming at him for release and your pussy is clenching on nothing—yeah, his oral fixation can wait. 
He settles himself in between your legs. His hands are grounded into the pillow beside your head as your legs automatically hook around his waist. He rubs his length across your wetness, you mewl for him as he lets his tip drag across your clit. 
“Baby, please,” you whine. 
“I’ve got you, baby.” 
His tip breaches your entrance. God, you’ve missed him so much, and you tell him exactly that. 
His lips are on yours, never really satiated with the amount of kisses he takes from you, “I fuckin’ missed you so much.” He pushes deeper in. “God, my beautiful wife, I love you so much,” he breathes out as his lips graze your temple. 
His hips are flushed with yours, your hands secure themselves around his neck. “Please, baby, let’s never go this long again, I need you so bad,” he rasps. He’s pulling out again, his head kissing your core. “Need you always,” he says as he pushes back in, maintaining a slow but hard rhythm.
You pull him impossibly closer into you, your hands grasping and feeling him anywhere you can reach. You rock your hips to meet every push and pull of his own, lips ghosting each other with each movement, your eyes threatening to roll back at how entirely full you feel. 
He’s taking his fucking time with you tonight, fucking you slowly into the mattress, harder with each thrust, reveling in sound of your pussy each time he pushes in, and he can’t help the way he smiles into the sloppy kisses and shared breaths. 
You’re a complete mess, tears falling from your eyes at how addicting he feels mixed with the pure love you have for this man. You really don’t even register what you’re babbling about, but that doesn’t matter. Frankie’s in heaven listening to a mixture of your drawn out moans, the occasional Lord’s name in vain, and the repeated I love you, baby, I love you so much.
One of his hands drag down to your clit, rubbing clumsy yet perfect circles, forcing your dam to finally break. He’s completely soaked in you and so are your thighs and the bedsheets. Your fall is slow but all-consuming. Your back arches into him, your nipples rubbing deliciously against his chest, and the feeling is the final push that sends him painting your walls white. 
His hand leaves your swollen clit and wraps itself around your lower back, helping you maintain your arch form as he continues rocking himself into you well into his softened state. He can feel your body start to tense out of overstimulation, so he finally pulls out of you, leaving you a leaking mess of both your and his cum. He sits back on his hunches, his fingers drawing circles on your inner thighs, just admiring the sight until his cock begins to stir again. 
“Jesus, Morales,” you giggle breathily as you clocked the jump of his length.
He leans over you again, giving you a sweet, lengthy kiss as he begins to slide himself off the bed. “What can I say, baby? I’m insatiable with you,” he gives you a mischievous smirk. 
He heads to the kitchen, returning to the bedroom with a chilled glass of water for you. “Drink up,” he says.
Before he makes it to the en suite bathroom, he adds, “I’m not done with you yet, mama.”
Despite the sensitivity down there, your pussy flutters at his words, craving him down there in any way shape or form.
He returns with a warm cloth, cleaning you up as best as he can with your second round of slick and his endless load of cum pouring from you. He sets the cloth down somewhere on the floor and situates himself up against the headboard. He wordlessly guides you to lay between his legs, your chest resting against his. 
“Wanna check on Isa?” Frankie asks, albeit a little shy. You smirk a little, knowing you’re usually the one to cave first. You make grabby hands at your phone on the nightstand, nudging Frankie to grab it since his wingspan is much larger than yours. He hands it to you, and you immediately dial Santi, hitting the speaker button as it rings.
“Hey, Santi.” 
“Hey, Mrs. Fish,” you can hear him laugh at his name for you. Frankie also gives a little laugh. He thought it was the funniest thing he’s ever said during your guys’ wedding reception. He calls you that more than your own name now. 
“How’s it going?” you try to ask in an unconcerned fashion. Santi knows you both all too well to know that isn’t the case. 
“You know you two didn’t have to quit just to check on her, right? Tío Santi knows how to distract! Also, tío Santi knows how to put her down for a nap!” He says proudly.
“I believe you, Santi, don’t worry. Just checking. Frankie just kept bugging-” 
Before you could continue your sentence, Frankie’s hands immediately go to your sides, hitting all your ticklish spots. You scream out, a loud stream of giggles leaving you. 
“Coño, por favor, not while I’m on the phone!” You hear Santi say. “Sorry, Sorry,” you say, still out of breath from Frankie’s merciless attack. 
“Actually, Santi, can I ask another favor?” 
Frankie looks at you confused. You smirk at him. “Is tío Santi prepared for his first sleepover?” His confusion fades and immediately his eyes are consumed with pure lust, his soft brown eyes turning black. 
Santi is silent for a moment. “You two are downright feral, you know that, right?”
You stifle a laugh. “Ay Dios mío (oh my God),” Frankie mutters. 
“As long as I get another niece — or nephew, I really have no preference — in nine months time…” Santi trails off in thought. “Then I’d dedicate every damn weekend to her,” he says. 
You turn your head around and up to meet Frankie’s eyes, both of you in shock at Santi’s silent invitation, silence fills the air for a moment before you finally bring yourself to speak. 
“Oh? Alright, then,” you softly say. “Thank you, Santi, you’re the best. We’ll text you, okay? Bye,” you hang up, not giving Santi any chances to return the call-ending formalities. You and Frankie are still looking at each other, eyes wild at the proposition before you. 
“Every weekend, huh?” Frankie says, breaking the tension first. His head dips down to place a kiss where your neck and shoulder meet. 
You suck in a breath, arousal forming faster than a strike of lightning. “Mhm,” you barely get out. His hands are roaming your body now, your phone thrown haphazardly somewhere in the room, long forgotten. He places his hands on the insides of your thighs, spreading you open and keeping them atop his own legs, so he can hold you open. His one hand is spread largely over your lower belly while his other hand is already teasing your core. 
His finger circles directly on your clit, you yelp in response, your body twitching. “Every weekend, I’m gonna get to fuck my wife, huh?” Frankie says into your ear. “Gonna fill her full of me?” Your hips buck at the huskiness of his voice, of his possessiveness over you. Your response is incoherent, more of a moan than anything. Next thing you know, your room reverberates with the noise of a wet slap. 
He spanked your pussy. The sound that escapes your throat is beyond arousing, Frankie’s cock back to life, dripping on your lower back. “Answer me properly, baby,” he says again, softly. His fingers are circling your clit again, forcing more of your wetness out of you, his cum from earlier still seeking its place on your bedsheets.
“Mmm, fuck-” you breathe, “Yes, yes, every weekend, baby,” you’re nodding your head frantically as you try to keep your eyes trained on his actions down below. “Every weekend you’re gonna make me so full,” you whimper, “Gonna fuck a baby into me, daddy, I need you so bad.”
He slides two of his fingers into you at your words, his hips grind into your back at the feel of your warmth, of his spend keeping you nice and wet. His fingers pump in and out of you at a languid pace, his fingers arching in a come-here motion to beckon more of his cum onto his fingers. He pulls out of you momentarily, analyzing the mess he’s made. “Open, querida,” he whispers, likely in a trance at the sight. 
You open your mouth, tongue out and ready. He sticks his fingers into your mouth, and you lap up his salty spend greedily, as if it were the sweetest of syrups. You taste a distinct tanginess on his fingers, most likely the product of your own arousal. Your eyes fall shut at your taste, eyes feeling heavy and too blissed out to stay open. He pulls out of your mouth with a pop and grabs your chin, turning your face to his. He pulls you in for an open-mouthed kiss, wet and hot. His hand leaves your face and returns to your core. His fingers are back inside you, pushing in and out as his palm grinds perfectly into your clit. Your hips are moving in tandem, providing you with the perfect rhythm to soak him all over again. His lips never break from your own, tongues dancing in a way only you two get to know. 
Your hand seeks purchase at the back of his neck, tugging at the base of his curls, taking away his opportunity to break away from you. He moans into your mouth at the sharp sensation, your lower back a sticky mess from how much he’s leaking onto you. 
Finally, you break away, lips still connected by the thinnest of spit lines. “Baby, I- I’m gonna cum, shit-”
Frankie lets out a growl, desperate to have you fall apart on him. He maintains his same pace, adding a bit more pressure of his palm to your clit, his other hand pushing harder down into your belly, knowing how crazy the stimulation drives you. “Give it to me,” he mumbles in your ear, his heavy breathing fanning across your cheek. “Need it, baby. Need you,” he whines. 
“Fuck-!” you yell out, head pushing harder into his shoulder, eyes clamping shut and forming white, blinding fireworks beneath your eyelids. He fucks his fingers in you as you ride out your high, tears letting loose as your pussy squirts into his hand and all over both your bottom halves. 
The sight transforms him into a cumming mess, the only stimulation being the friction from your backside as he rutted into you. You don’t notice the warm wetness between your bodies until your body falls completely limp against him, breathing still heavy but slowly returning to normal. Frankie bejewels your face with sweet kisses — from your temples to the edge of your shoulder that he can reach — as you slowly come back to Earth. 
You look up at him now, a soft smile spread across your face. His heart stutters at the sight. You shift your back a little. “Did you…?”
“Yes, I did,” Frankie admits way too quickly, embarrassment flooding his face. 
You pull him into one more kiss before you start to get up. “Come on. Shower and then we eat,” you tell him. “You didn’t get to settle yourself down after work,” you add, slightly scolding him for his impatience yet also silently thanking him. 
“I can always eat in the shower,” Frankie adds suggestively, his eyes giving your body a once over as you stand beside the bed, waiting for him to get a move on. 
“Morales!” you gasp out. “Bad,” you say, shaking your head from side to side. 
“You know it’s gonna happen, mi amor (my love),” he says as he stands, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you into him, seeking your warmth. 
And it does happen. He makes you fall apart on his tongue twice, and you pay him back by reducing him down to jelly legs as you fuck his cum down your throat. By the time you two actually start your shower, the water is completely cold, not one drop of hot water available. 
Post-shower, you two cook a fast, simple meal, too eager to be on each other again, but too aware of how important it is to give your body sustenance in order to continue with your feral behavior. You only get a few hours of sleep that night. Falling asleep after each round only to wake back up a horny, dripping mess just to fuck again. You don’t remember the last time you two did something like this, but damn were you two needing it. You made a mental note to thank Santi for his much needed offer.
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The next morning you wake up at seven, the first sensation you feel for the day is your sore pussy, red and puffy as she begs you to give her a break. You look at the knocked out man beside you, give him a kiss on the forehead and break away from his hold, bringing yourself to the bathroom. You take your phone with you. 
[07:13] Just woke up. Drop Isabela off whenever you’re ready. 
[07:15] God, no wonder she’s up already. She’s got your early ass schedule. 
You laugh to yourself, picturing Santi a half asleep man child as your daughter crawls all over him, forcing him to get up, too. What Santi didn’t know was that it was actually Isa’s schedule that you were on. 
[07:16] Pobrecito (poor thing). :( 
[07:16] She’ll probably be asking for Frankie soon. She always cuddles him in the morning. 
[07:17] Yep, she just did. I’ll feed her some breakfast now, then we’ll be on our way. That good, Mrs. Fish?
[07:18] If it’s good with little Fish, then it’s good with me. 
He sends you a thumbs up, and you set your phone down. You wash up and get ready for the day. 
After you brush your teeth and wash your face, you head to Frankie’s side of the closet and grab one of his soft, cotton tees to throw on. 
You head to the kitchen, your first course of action being to fire up the espresso machine. Espresso is the only form of coffee you drink, and soon enough, Frankie followed in your footsteps. Just as you suspected, as soon as the smell of the beans filled the air, Frankie appeared in the kitchen. His sleepy eyes and sexed out hair on display nearly cause your knees to buckle, your aching pussy betraying your want for a lazy morning. 
He makes his way to you and kisses you, soft and slow, probably needing a lazy morning just as much as you. “Good morning, mi esposa (my wife),” he says, voice still raspy from sleep. 
“Mmm, good morning, mi esposo (my husband),” you smile up at him. “Sleep well?”
“With the sleep that I did get, I’d say yeah,” he says. “You really tired me out, hermosa (beautiful),” he adds.
You pull him down for another kiss. You’ll never tire of the feeling. “Waffles?”
His eyes light up, a boyish grin on his face. “Yes, please.”
Around 8:30 as you and Frankie finish your waffles, the front door is unlocking. A little girl with crazy hair comes busting in, running straight for the both of you to pull you guys into a tight group hug. 
“Mommy! Daddy!” she screams.
“Mi amorcito,” Frankie responds, matching her energy. “Mi niña loca (my crazy girl),” you squeal. “I missed you so much!” you add. 
You and Frankie kiss each of her cheeks, sandwiching her little face. 
“Did you have fun with tío Santi?” you ask.
“So much fun, mommy! We had ice cream for break-”
Before she could finish, Santi chimes in. “O-o-okayyyyy, Isa!” he claps his hand once. “Why don’t you bring this to your room,” he hands her a tiny gift bag — probably the product of some shopping they did — “while I talk to mommy and daddy?”
“Okay, tío Santi!” She takes the bag and makes her way to her room. 
Your eyebrows are raised in mock scolding as you wait for Santi to explain himself. “Hey! In my defense, those puppy dog eyes are a killer. I couldn’t say no.”
The three of you break out into laughter, Frankie going in for a hug, clapping Santi on the back as he releases him. 
“Waffles?” you offer Santi. He graciously accepts, making his way to the other side of the kitchen counter, helping himself. 
“So-” you and Frankie say at the same time. Santi pauses his actions mid-bite. 
Frankie nudges you to speak first. You clear your throat to ease the awkwardness in the room. 
“So,” you start again. “Were you, uh… were you serious about watching Isa?” you ask?
“Every weekend?” Frankie adds. 
You giggle, nodding an affirmative at your husband. “Yes, every weekend?” 
Santi finishes the bite he paused on, and sets his waffle down. “You dirty dogs!” he says. 
“Pope, come on,” Frankie’s palms go over his cheeks that are currently turning red at Santi’s teasing. 
He lets out a laugh. “Sí, cabrón (yes, asshole),” Santi says, slapping Frankie’s shoulder.  “Of course I’m serious. I’d do anything for both of you, and especially that demon of a little girl.” 
Your heart warms at Santi’s sentiment. You’re beyond grateful Frankie has a best friend like him. 
“On one condition,” Santi adds, his eyebrow quirked up.
“Anything,” you say eagerly. Frankie nods his head in agreement with you.
“I also wasn’t kidding when I said I’d need another sobrino (niece/nephew).”
You and Frankie look at each other, your stares saying everything they needed to. Yeah, Santi didn’t need to worry about that. 
And you were right when the next Saturday morning, a month and four tío Santi sleepovers later, you and Frankie presented Santi with your pregnancy test displaying two pink lines.
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End note: Thank you all so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, etc, — all your support means the absolute world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do this without all of you. Thank you so so so much. There are genuinely not enough words to express my gratitude. As always feedback for my stories (at a technical sense) is also super super helpful whether it is constructive or positive! Anything helps me to be the best writer that I can be. All my love! Xo
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strawberrysainz · 1 year
Text
pretty visitors. charles leclerc
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“ at carlos and isa’s wedding, a certain someone can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. you can’t either. ”
charles leclerc x reader
a warning — crude language and alcohol consumption.
from leila; “a short little something for ya. xx”
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The wedding photographer was calling Isa’s friends to come take a picture, and you downed the champagne you were holding, dropping your belongings on the table chaotically before rushing outside the tent to the beautiful lawn in the forefront of the vineyard.
It was a gorgeous Spanish summer evening, absolutely perfect conditions to hold a wedding, and you couldn’t help but get a little emotional with nostalgia when you see Isa laughing in the glow of the early evening, remembering the chaos of your early twenties trying to learn Spanish from her, then going to work in motorsport- where your personal and work lives crossed when you accidentally introduced Carlos to Isa.
You hugged her again, surrounded by all of these lovely women from all over, and she kissed your cheek.
“Tu es si belle [you are so beautiful],” you say in French, pursing your lips trying not to cry again, and everyone agrees loudly, emotional on the champagne.
“Shut up,” Isa says. “I’ve tried not to cry the whole day and now you might make me.” You laugh, and everyone follows.
Many pictures are taken, and more champagne is poured while the newlyweds walk around, grasping hands.
You head back to the table to get your phone quickly, wanting to take pictures of the gradual setting sun, when you see Charles putting his things down next to your seat. “Ah, you are my seat buddy?” You say, smiling, and he brings you in for a hug. “Ravi de vous voir [nice to see you]” he answers with a peck to your cheeks, and you pick up your phone. “Please can I take a picture of you and Carlos!” You shout, slightly tipsy, yielding it, and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t you dare send it to the social media team.”
You wink.
Eventually you manage to get Carlos with him to take a picture while the sun sets, and someone’s aunt comes to snatch your phone. “Ve a estar con ellos [go be with them],” your rusty Spanish helps you, and you go to stand in the middle; Charles taps Carlos. “Kiss her cheek!”
You laugh when they both smush their lips on your cheeks, giggling uncontrollably as the auntie grins from behind your phone.
Someone gets Isa to join in, running in between them to kiss you on the lips, and Carlos gasps dramatically. “Ay! Ay why do you steal my bride?”
You nearly can’t breathe when you get your phone back, cooing at the photos you got.
💌💋💐💿🍓
Dinner flies by; you’re seated with Charles, Lando, Daniel and Heidi, a few of your friends from the paddock, and from home, and their partners. You laugh and get progressively more drunk as the night continues.
You find yourself resting your cheek against Charles’ for Lando’s camera, and your smile is wide and real.
Eventually the first dance happens, and suddenly you’re all dancing, and then the stronger drinks are distributed, and the night gets more fun.
You find yourself dancing with Charles, spinning and jumping, and your silky dress is a blur, his grinning face imprinted in your mind.
Eventually you stop, going outside for a breather, and he follows you.
The alcohol has finally hit you like a train, and your smile is bright and boozy as you sit on the grass in the fresh night air.
He sits down next to you, eyes droopy, and you rest your head on his shoulder with a drunken huff.
A slow song is playing from inside, and he stands up unsteadily, pulling you up, and he dances with you, swaying slowly.
You gaze into his eyes, heart beating wildly in that way only this night could describe.
“Tu es incroyablement belle [you are incredibly beautiful],” he whispers, and your eyes soften.
Daniel calls for the two of you loudly, and you reply, breaking away with a reluctance you didn’t realise you had.
The party carries on, Lando stealing the DJ’s job, and you find yourself stealing glances at Charles every moment you can get, looking away hurriedly when he does the same.
“There’s something about a wedding, no?” A friend shouts in your ear, and you giggle, nodding.
Charles brushes your arm about an hour later at the bar, ordering something strong, and he murmurs something too soft in your ear for you to hear. His lips on your ear make you shiver though, so when his fingers grasp your arm you nearly lose yourself in him.
“Charles,” you slur. “I’m too drunk to kiss you right now.”
He cackles then, and loses his balance; you grab him with an equally loud laugh.
“I know, me too. Tomorrow. I promise.” He says, and kisses your cheek. You hug him tight then, whispering promises of forever.
💌💋💐💿🍓
A pounding headache wakes you up the next morning, two of your friends next to you in the king sized bed. You yawn, getting up to make coffee and get something to help with the hangover.
After you resemble a functional being, you try to look through the mess of the villa to find your nearly-dead phone, where texts from Charles from last night await you.
4:23
Noo why did you go to b Ed
Lando and i are still shooting Jägers
4:56
i think I wil L go to bed later now maybe
Borin G without you
5:20
Fuck I got ya be awake soon
Nibht night
9:50
Please don’t read any of that please
Gonna go get some croissants and orange juice please find a 🍾 so we can make some mimosas i want to drink still lol
We can have a nice brunch thing by the patio
Save me a kiss
The last text leaves you somewhat bashful, and you try to rake a hand through your knotted hair, yawning, opening the fridge to get a bottle of champagne and two glasses to set on the counter.
A knock on the door some minutes later makes you grab the things and take them to greet him. He sets down a blanket on the grass; you put down the bottle and glasses next to his bag of fresh croissants.
“I’m sorry I’m still in my pyjamas,” you laugh, and the smirk on his face makes you blush. ���I think you look cute.”
“Cute enough for a kiss?” You say, scrunching your nose, and he hands you the mimosa.
“The cutest.”
His kiss brought the sun, and you could bask in it forever.
💌💋💐💿🍓
yourinstagram
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holy shit my besties got married, isa & carlos may your love last forever. proudest to know you. also you know im serious when there’s an outfit change 🖤
tagged: isahernaez, carlossainz55
landonorris you were the worst bridesmaid
username y/n living my life rn
danielricciardo enchanté
username AWWWW … but who that 🥸
username i may be delulu but that could be mr charles himself…..
isahernaez ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
charlesleclerc
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you guys finally got married. beautiful beautiful couple ❤️‍🔥
username HOL UP THATS yourinstagram BLACK DRESS ???????
carlossainz55 can’t drink jägerbombs again after you mate
username 😳😳😳😳 Y/N??????
username charles you are NOT subtle
heidiberger_ thanks for being the photographer! lando was awful
landonorris girl????
lando.jpg
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going to the chapel and we’re….
username THAT IS Y/N’S BLACK DRESS AND CHARLES HAIR. OMFG
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author’s note — if you have requests, feel free to send in! 💌
masterlist
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mysticallystilinski · 2 months
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𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫
(𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - anakin despised you, but after getting in a fight with your boyfriend he had second thoughts about his feelings. you patched him up, but he wanted you to kiss it better.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 2.8k
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 - (slight) enemies!lovers if u squint hard enough, modern au, college!reader, mentions of blood, substance use, porn!w/plot, oral fem!receiving, p in v intercourse.
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『 masterlist + nav + taglist 』 𝜗𝜚
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the chill of the vent hit your exposed back in the front of the library. you had expected to be warmer as you sat closer to the front, but you were mistaken. you shivered in your seat as your legs clenched together.
anakin couldn’t help but notice your demeanor. cold, but hot at the same time. his eyes slowly looked you up and down while you were focused on the book in front of your face. it wasn’t unlike him to stare at you, especially in the library. that was when he felt you looked your best. messy hair, sweats, and your dark glasses.
he may have despised you, but god he couldn’t deny you were hot. the things he wanted to do to you. he had a boner just thinking about bending you over that table, and ripping off every article of clothing. his hard cock thrusting into you slowly while you begged him to go faster.
of course that was just his imagination. in reality, he felt disconnected from you. from what he knew, you hated him since the beginning of freshman year. he didn’t know why, which made his liking for you go considerably down. not to mention, you had a boyfriend.
you turned around to scan the area for your friend isamora, but locked eyes with anakin. he immediately looked away, and locked eyes with his phone. you scoffed, what an ass. little did you know your instagram was on his screen. you turned back to your book, and scanned the page.
suddenly you had little interest to finish reading. catching anakin stare at you ignited something in your mind. you shouldn’t have been thinking about him. you had a boyfriend, and he was great. greatly boring, in the aspect of bed. jordan was toxic and manipulative, but you were still with him. you needed someone to attach yourself to, just to take your mind off anakin.
you suddenly felt a pair of hands being placed upon your back, and you jumped. “god, you scared me isa”, you said with a heavy voice. your heart was beating fast, mostly from the scare but anakin was some part of it.
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“please just come with me, just once”, isamora pled. it was already ten o-clock, and she was begging you to go to the party next door. you sighed, wishing for a way out of it. “i mean, i don’t know”, you spoke. “i heard anakin will be there”, she joked.
your eyes widened at that comment. she knew you always hated him, but she felt the tension between you two at certain times. in some positions, you and anakin came face to face regarding academics, or just bantering. isamora had been friends with anakin longer than she was friends with you.
she knew how he felt, conflicted. the mix of lust, and hatred grew for you from anakin as the years passed on. “fine, i’ll go”, you huffed. isa jumped in excitement as you agreed to her plans. “now let me pick out what you’re going to wear”, she screeched.
you headed over to your shared closet door, and slid it to the right. a huge pile of clothes fell onto the floor, and made a path for a sexy, black dress. it was almost fate that it was perfectly there, with the seams delicately placed. you grabbed the dress, but isa was quick to grab it first. “you are trying this on, no complaints”, she said.
you stared at the dress in awe, “is it yours?”. she huffed, “yes but i haven’t found the perfect occasion, till now”, she laughed. she handed over the dress to you, and pushed you towards the entrance of your dorm. you swung the door open, and went out into the hall.
you were looking down, so you didn’t notice him walking your direction. the next thing you know, you were on the floor. he fell backwards after bumping into your figure. he wasn’t paying attention, until you caught his. anakin looked up into your eyes, then to your dress that was sprawled across the floor.
“woah”, he whispered under his breath. he scanned your eyes for any response, but as soon as you were about to talk he was lifted up by some of his friends. “c’mon anakin, let’s head to this party”, they spoke. he looked back as his friends dragged him to the door down the hall.
they stunk of weed and alcohol, mainly what the party contained of. you lifted yourself up, and grabbed the dress off the floor. you brushed off your clothes in disgust at the interaction that just happened. the communal bathroom opened up, and you knew it was go time.
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you knocked on your dorm door with persistence for isamora to open it. you were all dolled up now, perfume all over, flawless makeup, and perfect jewelry. you checked your phone to call isa. she had texted you a few minutes ago that she was heading to the party, and to meet her there. are you fucking kidding me, you whispered under your breath.
you put your phone away, and headed down the hall to the party. your heels clacked onto the carpet, and you fixed your hair as your rushed down the hallway. you heard the loud bass come from dorm 201, so you knew that was where it was.
anakin was dreading to see you after your previous interaction. he was embarrassed, and frankly horny. before you came into the dorm, he imagined what your dress would look like on you. your features being prominent on the tight dress.
your hand latched onto the doorknob, and you pushed it open. isa could almost sense you coming in, so she headed for the door. “y/n!!”, she screamt. you laughed at her demeanor, and headed into the lofty dorm. your eyes burned almost immediately as smoke wafted into your face. weed and nicotine was heavily prominent in this dorm room.
the vibe of the party was your type. not too loud, but not too quiet. immediately, you locked eyes with anakin from across the room. he lowered his head, and you could’ve sworn you saw him smirk. it may have been all in your mind, but you wouldn’t have cared.
jordan was sitting on the couch, a blunt in hand, talking to one of his friends. his eyes wavered across the room, never hitting you once. it was typical of him to ignore you at these types of events, but tonight you didn’t have a care in the world. beginning to plan, your mind thought of pumping tons of shots into your system.
you headed over to the drink table. you felt anakin eyes upon your presence following you. the table was lined starting with malibu, ending with pink whitney. you groaned in disgust after seeing the whitney, bad memories. you grabbed a shot glass from the long table, and poured some tequila into it. on second thought, you grabbed another shot and poured vodka.
at once, you took both shots with no chaser. the liquid poured down your throat and left a heavy burning sensation. the aftertaste was disgusting, and made you start to gag. you felt a hand caress your back, “baby, don’t throw up”. immediately you knew who it was, anakin.
“anakin what the hell are you doing?”, you questioned. he smiled at your question, already 7 shots in. the smell of alcohol lingered from his breath, “i’m not doing anything.. i’m just talking.. can’t i just talk to you?”. immediately you were faced with the fact that he was heavily drunk. his hand began to rub up and down your back.
you began to feel your legs clench together mindlessly. anakin lowered his head down to your ear, “am i making you feel good?”. you felt his hot breath on your face as he stood there waiting for a response. star strucked, your mind went completely blank.
in a split second, anakin was on the floor. jordan was on top of him, trying to get many punches in. you screamt as ani’s face became bloodied. anakin rolled over and went on top of your boyfriend. jordan grabbed his wrists and flipped him back over. “this is what you get for flirting with my girlfriend”, jordan fumed.
anakin laughed through the pain, punches flew hardly missing him. his teeth became bloody, and his smile was still prominent as jordan tried harder to hurt him. anakin looked so hot smiling devilishly. even if he was hurt, god was he hot. campus security barged through the door, and lept onto both anakin and jordan.
many people ran out of the dorm, and scattered throughout the hallway. “THE COPS ARE HERE”, someone yelled, which caused panic to arise. anakin was pulled away from jordan, but jordan was still clawing at him. you laughed at the sorry attempt of jordan attacking anakin. anakin sat on the floor, head in his hands.
you quickly walked over to him, and grabbed under his shoulder. he was lifted up with your force, and taken to the private bathroom in the dorm. anakin sat on the covered toilet, and groaned in pain. blood ran down his face, and was entangled in his hair. the cabinets were easy to navigate for you to find washcloths, tylenol, and hydrogen peroxide.
your heels were forced off by your hands, and you were slightly less tall to be able to help him. “i’m fine”, anakin groaned in pain. “i’m not letting you sit here bloody, i’d rather help”, you said. motioning to the sink water, you grabbed 3 pills and handed them to anakin. “this will help”, you spoke. he cupped his hand and held some water. the pills were placed into his mouth, and he quickly swallowed them.
you had to admit, his adam’s apple looked so hot as he swallowed. the ache in your pussy was still prominent, and nothing was stopping it. the drinks caused you to have this heightened sense of realization that maybe you did find anakin attractive. you can’t think that y/n, you thought. in your daze of thoughts, anakin was staring into your eyes.
you heard small groans come from anakin, and in the corner of your eye you saw him using his hand to stroke himself. even though it was through his pants, it still turned you on to the max. he used his free hand the grab under your chin, and lift your gaze to meet his. his whimpers came out softly as he struggled to continue looking at you.
you smiled as you finally came to terms on what he was doing. realizing, you snapped out of your daze and detached his hand from your chin. you decided to guide his large land to the fabric covering your boob. he grasped at your breasts almost immediately. the music was enough to cover the groans coming from his mouth. anakin was rough, and harshly apprehended your boobs. going from one to the other, he stared in your eyes to see your reaction.
hearing his whimpers made you weak in the knees. although you felt good, you wanted to feel better. “anakin, stop”, he immediately unclaimed his hand from your breasts. “what do you want me to do?”, he groaned while continuing to please himself.
anakin got needier by the second as you haltered your response. your finger was placed upon your chin, and began tapping in a playful manner. he unclenched his hand from the top of his pants and grabbed your wrist. “please tell me what you need”, he whined. his eyes gazed up into yours as the angle was him slightly below you.
anakin started to play with the loop of where your belt would be. pulling on the fabric, he looked for your approval. you nodded, and he proceeded to unzip your jeans. slowly, but surely he held onto your clothing and pulled it down. teasingly, he stopped them at your ankles and waited for you to step out of them.
quickly, you stepped out of the long jeans and kicked them aside. “needy much?”, anakin questioned slyly. you giggled in response but stopped when his hands attached to your panties. “can i?”, he asked. again, you nodded at his examination. the panties dropped the the floor at the slight of his touch. anakin stared in awe, and stood up from the seat.
“sit on the counter”, he demanded. proceeding, he helped you onto the cold material. anakins only objective for tonight was to make you cum, and you better believe he was going to do so. as soon as your ass hit the counter, you flinched at the temperature.
“spread your legs”, he spoke chillingly. you seemingly obeyed, completely bare on the bottom half of your body. anakin kneeled onto both knees, and held his face to your heat. as soon as you were about to speak up, he delved in. whimpers left your mouth, especially within the first few seconds. his tongue began to slowly surround your clit, and he grasped at your thighs.
groans came from his mouth which caused you to feel the pleasure even more. his hands tightened around your thighs as you began to squirm. anakin was feeling ever little move you made, causing him to become even hornier. you felt slight cum drip from your pussy, but you could tell anakin wouldn’t miss a spot. his tongue began to shake as your legs did also.
your fingers entangled into his warm locks as he came closer to your area. lips sucked around your clit, he whimpered as you continued to pull onto his hair. stomach clenching, your high was beginning to build up. butterflies filled your stomach as anakin went at a fast pace. he didn’t intentionally mean to overstimulate you, but it was happening. “please anakin, can i cum?”, you begged. without a reply, he nodded his head in response. that nod caused you to feel even more overstimulation on your clit.
cum began dripping from you, and you felt your high almost there. anakin was at a great motion, and nothing would stop him. “ani- ani, i’m going to cum”, you groaned out. your orgasm caused your stomach to cave in, and your legs to tremble. his face was still near your heat as you began to grind on it for more. he retracted as you sat there with your elbows against the cabinet, still coming down from your bliss.
he stood up, leaving you a creaming mess. quickly, he pulled down his pants in an instant, underwear coming down with the removal. precum soaked his tip and he began to delve it between your folds. you whined as his tip hit your clit, “don’t you want me to make you feel good sweetheart?”. you nodded in response and he was quick to enter you.
his dick went fully inside of you, leaving no room behind. anakin slowly inhaled in, and out through his nose. behind him, you could see your reflection in the mirror. anakin quickly noticed your response to you seeing yourself in the mirror. smirking, he cupped under your ass, and backed up to the mirror. you bounced onto his cock slowly. he didn’t forgot to thrust hard, so he began to go faster.
“i want you to look at yourself taking my cock”, he said through small whimpers. obeying, you stared at yourself in the long mirror. every aspect of this intimate experience was seen through a whole new perspective. you could feel him fill you up, and it left you in heaven. you tits bounced through your shirt, while you mentally noted to make sure to take it off next time.
anakins cock went harder, and faster as your moans continued on. cum began to seep through your folds as it rushed out of you. your second orgasm was coming, and quick. anakins whimpers caused you to come closer to the desired high. “you’re so pretty”, he spoke while deep inside you. your face flushed as those words came out of his mouth.
“ani- you’re so handsome”, you praised. anakin definitely had a praise kink, and that tossed him off the brim. you felt his load shoot inside you, filling you up to the very brim. continually thirsting, anakin turned you around and placed your back against the mirror.
the wall began to shake as you bounced upon his cock. of course you were almost there, but everything exploded once his finger hit your swollen clit. your cum flowed out of you, and onto anakins dick. he pulled out, and placed you back onto the counter.
“i didn’t expect this to happen”, he said through huffs of deep breaths. “well i didn’t either”, you spoke out. your eyes lifted to his as he stared upon you. you sure didn’t expect this to happen tonight, but you didn’t mind kissing it better.
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𝐥𝐚𝐯 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 this took me so long to write, probably the longest in a while. but i promise i will try to consistently post more because i seriously love all of you.
୭ ✧
taglist - @dwntwn-strnlo @worldsgreatestarcher @chiaraanatra @wrongframeofmind23 @sarahmichelle1624 @jediavengers @rafeinterlude @mwdhwtter @nin356 @sarahirmiz @rafesbabygirll @idek1214 @amarihutcherson @littlemissborntolose @zizuras @spideysimpossiblegirl @dollsay
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feelingf1 · 8 months
Text
pretty isn’t pretty - daniel ricciardo
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pairing: daniel ricciardo x female!reader
summary: you’ve started comparing yourself to the other wags, and now you’re starting to wonder, does daniel deserve someone better than you?
authors note: i am obsessed with this song. it’s not okay. this is also kinda short, sorry😭
enjoy!
—————
You collapsed onto your bed after an enjoyable but exhausting day. You had spent your day accompanying Daniel in the paddock on the last race of the season.
Because you were still mainly located in yours and Daniel’s home town, you didn’t often get the opportunity to travel so far to go and see him race, but you were glad you could.
You threw your outfit on the bench, putting on your comfy pajamas before making a call for room service and scrolling through your phone.
You opened up Instagram and saw that Carmen, George’s partner, had posted a picture of you, Lily, Isa and Charlotte.
You liked it, reposting it to your story, before checking the comment to see what people were saying.
That was your big mistake.
You opened a comment section to people slagging you off, for every reason they could.
“Y/N looks like she pulled that outfit out of her cousin’s closest”
“Jesus she could try and make some effort with her hair and makeup.”
“What?” You said to yourself. It hadn’t come to your attention before that people online didn’t really like you.
“She’s such a slag, sucking off Daniel for his money”
-> “Pity she wouldn’t use Daniel’s money to dress herself up a bit.”
“Daniel deserves way better than her.”
That last comment stuck with you. Your friends had always told you not to believe what the comments said. But surely if they’re all saying the same thing, they must be right?
You scrolled through the other photos the paparazzi had captured of all the other wags. Looking through them, you came to understand how you believed you were a lower standard compared to them.
They had the newest handbags, shoes, clothes, makeup. They had people dressing them up for this and every event they attended. They didn’t even had to think twice before flashing their card in a designer shop.
You, on the other hand, had to go to a thrift shop to buy the dress you wore so you could still afford your rent and bills at the end of the month. You used the drugstore makeup you had been using for years, as getting it done by somebody would cost too much, and you’d have to cut back on buying groceries.
How could you ever expect yourself to compare to these angels who had everything they could ever want? Of course, if you had asked Daniel, he would have bought you a brand new Louis Vuitton dress with a Gucci clutch bag just for today, but you prided yourself on not having to rely on your boyfriend for money. Maybe you prided yourself a little too much.
Tears started to fall from your eyes and down your cheeks. You couldn’t help but think you were and embarrassment to Daniel. That he only kept with you because he felt bad for you and your sad little life.
You headed to the bathroom to take off your makeup, so you could cry without looking like a panda. You stared in the mirror for a little too long, starting to point out imperfections that nobody else saw but you.
You started to cry again.
You crawled into the hotel bed, pulling the covers up over your head, and wept. You wept and wept until you felt empty. And then you came to a realization.
You had to break up with Daniel. You had to let him find someone better than you. Someone prettier, someone richer, someone who wouldn’t put shame on his name.
You were too busy crying to hear the sound of your hotel room door opening and closing. The second Daniel saw you upset, he rushed to your side.
“My love. What’s wrong?”
He pulled the covers down from your face gently, revealing your reddened cheeks and puffy eyes. A look of worry washed over his face.
“What’s happened?” He asked, softly.
You wiped your eyes in your hoodie sleeves and started at the ceiling, not even having it in you to look at his big, brown, beautiful eyes right now.
“We- we need to break up.” You croaked out.
Daniel’s face dropped. “What? Y/N, what the hell are you talking about.”
You brought your hands up to your eyes and started to cry tears you thought you didn’t have left. Daniel softly stroked your cheek in an attempt to calm you down.
“There’s- there’s just comments I saw online and they say how bad I look compared to the other girls.” You rambled out, still not able to look at him.
“Oh, doll.” He whispered.
“And one comment said that you deserve someone way better than me, which you do. I’m too ugly and poor to be with someone as good as you.”
Your breathing started to increase a little as you started to panic. Daniel pulled you into his arms, cradling you, as he rubbed soft circles on your back.
“Oh Y/N. You can’t listen to those silly little comments. I’m the one that’s lucky to have you.” He said, into your ear.
“But-” You went to argue but Daniel cut you off.
“No, listen. Y/N, I’m the luckiest person in the world to have somebody like you. Somebody so kind, so pretty, so smart, so sweet, so dedicated. You’re the prettiest girl in the whole entire world. Nobody compared to you, my love.”
He softly took ahold of your hands, removing them from your face.
“Let me see my beautiful lady.”
You smiled up at him. You were so lucky to have somebody like him. He really was one of a kind.
“Y/N, I love you.” He said.
Your face lit up, he said them. He really said those three beautiful words for the first time. Just when you thought you couldn’t love him more, he proved you wrong.
“I love you too, Daniel.”
He pulled you into a proper hugs and you stayed there for what felt like forever. You didn’t care, as long as you had Daniel, you could stay with him forever.
1K notes · View notes
jaylaxies · 11 months
Text
CONFLICT OF INTEREST
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PAIRING: pool cleaner!heeseung × rich fem!reader
GENRE/CW: slightly perv!heeseung, profanities, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), slight voyeurism, mentions of sunghoon, slight public sex, fingering and cunnilingus, penetration, usage of nicknames and degradation.
WC: 6.7k (6701) words
SYNOPSIS: spending all his money on video games, heeseung was left with no other choice but to work part time to earn some extra cash, he was overwhelmed to find out how much your father was willing to pay for a pool cleaner, grabbing that opportunity and applying for the same, not knowing that he’d be dealing with a spoiled little princess, who’s also a feast for his eyes.
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: ohmygod hello everyone, guess who’s back after the longest break ever! i missed writing so much and i couldn’t come back here without a fic for y’all sooo have this lil gift from me! <3 also thankyou sm @criceofpain for helping me w the title! i hope y'all will enjoy this! :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are so highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all <33
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Silence.
That’s all you heard after waking up from your cozy sleep. Living in a mansion like yours would be everyone’s dream. Having rich and working parents only added on to that, giving others a misconception of how your life would be full of freedom.
You had more than fifteen rooms in your ‘small mansion’, three of them being reserved for the stay-in staff. They felt more like family to you than your own family did, your parents being absent whenever you needed them the most, you could count the times you saw them in a year.
Which brings you back to how you developed the need to be a brat — to grab your parent’s attention. It started off when you were a kid, stayed as you grew up into an adult, coming to a stage where you completely disregarded other’s feelings, not having in you to pay attention to them.
Being called a ‘rich brat’ was something you’d grown accustomed to, no one tried to get close to you in order to find your true personality, they only came for money and a short lived reputation of being your ‘friend’.
“You have to stop texting while eating, darling,” your mother’s voice boomed up in the expansive area of your dining room.
The irk in her usual dulcet voice was enough for you to understand that her current tone was laced with disappointment, your father barely speaking anything as usual, plausibly not finding you important enough to waste his energy on.
You simply hated when your parents were back at home, invading your personal space, it was one of the rare times they came back without much of an announcement, ruining your whole week, knowing they’d pass comments which would lead to massive breakdowns and again, not a single soul would help you through it, you’d be alone, as always.
Instead of eating, you found that playing with your spoon and salad would be a better option, your appetite leaving the second you learned about your parent’s arrival.
They were quick eaters, leaving you to eat by yourself soon after ruining your day. You sighed, getting up to shower, punching the hard tiled wall to release your pent up frustration, secretly hoping to find someone who’d care for you genuinely, unlike your parents who did so superficially.
The weather was rather breezy, clouds covering up the sky, resembling your mood in a manner. You were quick to dress up in your newest Chanel outfit, matching it with the perfect pair of heels you could find in your never ending walk-in closet.
Dressing up was therapeutic for you. It gave you confidence to portray yourself just how you’d wanted to, strong and bold, not requiring anyone’s support.
Isa:
Let’s skip the first lecture today :3
You:
Can’t, my parents are back at home, and if they find out abt me leaving the class thennn :)
Isa:
Babe oh no, I’ll save you a seat and get a frappe for you :(
You:
You’re an angel truly, mwah <3
You smiled, locking your phone and getting into your car, deciding to drive by yourself today. Isa was your best friend and you’d swear she was the only person who understood you on the spiritual basis, having gone through the same story of having absentee parents.
The difference would be your personality, hers being sweet and bubbly, yours being bratty and intimidating. You complemented each other perfectly.
The guards opened the gate to your mansion for you to drive away, your eyes rolling at the sight of a poster mentioning how your family needed a pool cleaner.
“Why did they build three pools if they couldn’t even maintain it, bet they haven’t once used it,” you muttered under your breath.
You didn’t notice a boy stopping by to read the very same poster just as you drove away.
He was quick to click a picture of the very same, making sure he doesn’t forget the details given below, walking further towards the mansion adjacent to yours, waiting in front of the huge gate which opened up as his friend came into view with his car, asking him to get inside the car quickly.
“The fuck were you waiting for there? We’re late already!” Sunghoon asked, running his hands through this hair as he stepped on the accelerator.
“I’m broke,” Heeseung explained, causing Hoon to laugh out of nowhere.
“Yeah? Spent all your money on video games again?” He asked, amused.
Heeseung rolled his eyes, “yeah, but it was a limited edition and I had to get it!” He argued, “and now my parents have decided to not give me pocket money for the whole month. I’ll have to earn it someway or the other.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you were standing in front of Y/n’s place.”
“Y/n? I don’t know, I saw this poster saying that they needed a pool cleaner and the amount they’re willing to pay is huge,” he explained, already deciding that he’ll apply for it the first thing after school.
“You don’t know her? Where the fuck are you living dude?” Hoon gave him a look.
“What’s so special about her? Is she hot?” Heeseung asked, looking at Hoon who shook his head in disappointment at his friend before simply smirking.
“You’ll see.”
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Heeseung wondered if he’d get to see you today. The chances were high with the onset of summer vacation, you’d be at home, however he wasn’t sure if you’d come into his spectrum of vision, he always seemed to miss you by a minute or two.
He was at your place, the guard allowed him to enter and guided him towards the pool area.
He was in shorts and a casual T-shirt as his job would most definitely cause him to get wet while getting the pool cleaned.
His lips were bitten in concentration as the house helper guided him as to how to go on about his task, and soon, he was whistling while waiting for the water to be drained out after he used the net to get the leaves and the particles floating around on the water surface.
He decided to sit down on the sunlounger while waiting, scrolling down Instagram to catch up on the posts he had missed.
You were in your room, sighing for the umpteenth time. You hated the atmosphere in your home, it was tense as your parents had fought early in the morning about tarnishing the family reputation.
Ironic coming from them.
Both of them stormed out of the home soon, wanting a break from the other, leaving you all to yourself for the day.
Seeing as you had nothing better to do at the given moment, you opted to go for a swim in the pool as you put on a black one piece swimsuit, taking your sunscreen bottle along with the few things you’d need there.
However, you did not expect to see a stranger casually sitting in one of your sun loungers by the biggest pool as the water drained out, just like the plan you had for swimming.
Ignoring the new addition to your leisure time, you went ahead to sit by the second pool, which was already cleaned by the old cleaner you had hired, the one who left the job out of nowhere.
The water was lukewarm when you dipped your legs in it, kicking the water softly, which gained the attention of the boy in shorts.
His whistling stopped as he stared at your side profile from a distance, eyes taking in your figure which was clad in black which fit you well, he gulped, his tongue swiped down his lower lip when his eyes stopped to look at your legs, and how glossy and plump your lips looked in the sunlight, the light breeze swayed your open hair and how your hands look so small compared to his, making him wonder how they’d look holding his—
You turned your head to look his way, eyes sharp which was enough to break his train of thoughts, feeling as if you were being stared at, he turned his head in record time to avoid your gaze, and you noticed he was just using his phone.
Shrugging, you got up to get on one of the sun loungers with an umbrella to put on your sunscreen, missing the way Heeseung’s eyes flickered over to you from time to time as he concluded the cleaning process to fill up the freshwater now.
Your skin glowed with the extra moisture from the sunscreen but he noticed how you struggled with rubbing it on your back.
His hands itched to do that for you, he couldn’t take his eyes off you the entire time he was at your place, but what bothered him is that you didn’t look up at him even once, until he got into the stalls and came out after changing into his decent outfit as his shorts had gotten wet from the water.
It was the exact time you got up to get into the newly cleaned pool, “good work—” you started to say.
Heeseung was shocked, he never pegged you to start a conversation, nevertheless, a little smirk settled on his face when he turned around to see your pretty face up close, “Heeseung,” he finished your sentence, “and thank you.”
You nodded in acknowledgment, looking at his face clearly for the first time since he arrived.
He had the most perfect nose you had ever come across, his lips looked delicate and pink, his eyes summing up his face to look innocent, and hair shiny yet messy.
It seemed as if you had eye candy for the job of the pool cleaner.
Without extending the conversation, you got into the pool, soaking up your body fully before you started to swim.
Heeseung stood there watching you shamelessly, hand in his pocket as you stopped to swim closer to the edge, water dripping down your chin as your looked up at him in question, “you can leave now,” you said, but the smirk he had on his face was enough to confirm that his innocent looking eyes are deceiving in all ways.
“I’m just waiting for the helper aunt to get my pay for the day,” he said innocently.
You almost scoffed, “go wait by the front gate,” you said, pointing towards the exit area with a sickeningly sweet smile.
“The view isn’t as nice there,” he nonchalantly said.
“Excuse me?” You said in a beat, looking at him with disbelief.
“I meant, the palm trees and the flowers here are better than the fountain near the gate area, also, the helper aunt asked me to wait here,” he shrugged, acting as if he was naive.
“Right,” you rolled your eyes, “she’s here now you can leave,” you gave him a tight lipped smile, resuming your swimming session.
He tried to contain his laugh, it was already fun to tease you, not to mention how you looked so attractive when wet, in the water of course.
“Good bye then,” he winked at you before leaving.
You watched his long legs quickly getting away from the pool area.
“What a creep,” you muttered, already planning ideas to get him off his high horse.
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You were sunbathing the next day, not once thinking that Heeseung would come again, but he did.
He wore a deep grey tank top and black shorts as he focused on cleaning the two smaller pools.
Thankfully, he wasn’t much of a bother that day, he simply did his work, after greeting you with a slick smile, of course.
It was clear that he stopped to stare your way from time to time, you wore dark tinted goggles just to catch him doing so, scoffing before you went inside your room, not having it in you to deal with him.
You loved to swim, it was a major stress reliever for you, the next two days were peaceful for you, your parents were out of town and there was no trace of Lee Heeseung at your place.
Sunghoon had visited you that night, inviting himself in for dinner, wanting to check up on you after hearing the news about your parents arrival.
“—They’re driving me insane, I could be simply breathing, and they would say that I am breathing wrong, I have no clue how to deal with this and I am so tired already, not to mention how the new pool cleaner is so infuriating.” You groaned, finishing up your rant as you filled him in on everything that happened ever since your parents came back.
His eyebrows raised at your last comment, “the new pool cleaner, huh?” He chuckled.
You nodded, taking a bite of the pizza you had ordered, “his name is Heeseung, he’s like an actual creep, he stares at me while working, I literally cannot go to swim whenever he’s around,” you ranted.
“Trust me I know him,” Sunghoon rested his forehead on his hand, not believing that Heeseung would actually act so shamelessly, yet it was comedic in a way.
“You do?” You asked.
“He’s my closest friend, Y/n.” Sunghoon was amused how both you and Heeseung didn’t know about each other up until he started working for you, “you’d know if you liked me even a bit,” he smirked, and looked crazy handsome doing so.
“Oh shut up,” you laughed, glad that Sunghoon was here to lighten up the mood, “I didn't know you had such friends.” Distaste was clear in your voice.
“He’s not a bad guy, okay? He’s just—” Hoon stopped to find the right word.
“Just?” You urged him to continue.
“Just stupid at times, yeah,” he shook his head.
“Right,” you said, laughing.
“If he bothers you, just punch him or whatever,” he said casually.
Maybe you’ll take up on Sunghoon’s advice on that.
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The next few days were peaceful, headphones shutting out the world as you completed your holiday assignments sitting at the poolside area with your laptop in front of you, yet he had something or the other to say.
“Oh, you’re doing the assignments already?” He asked over your headphones, speaking loud, standing next to your seat.
You nodded, not giving him the time of your day.
“Do you need help?” He couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
“Does it look like I want help?” You asked, removing your headphones and shades.
“Honestly? Your essay looks pretty perfect as of now—” he started to comment.
“That was a rhetorical question,” you deadpanned, closing your laptop and going back inside.
You knew he wasn’t this dumb, he just did it on purpose to piss you off, for your attention, just like how you behaved outrageously when you wanted your parents attention.
But Heeseung? He needed to be taught a lesson and that too, very soon.
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“No, I can’t come tonight Isa, my parents want to have dinner together like a good family. Isn’t that funny?” You talked to your best friend on call, sitting by the pool yet again.
Your parents were the reason you couldn’t go out of the house anymore, they wanted you to be home, spending quality time with them, which consisted of you being judged for your every move, your parents wanting your mannerism to be proper.
“Can’t they just leave already?” You sighed as Isa tried her best to console you, saying that she’d be there whenever you’d be allowed to go out.
That call definitely heightened your spirits until someone decided to pay your pools a visit again.
One of the helpers had told you that Heeseung wasn’t working today, so you wore your comfortable two piece bikini for the swim, which you deeply regret now.
Heeseung simply wanted to see you, he loved pissing you off, knowing how much his presence bothered you.
That only made him want to do it more.
“Hey, Y/n!” He smiled your way, his perfect set of teeth coming into your vision as you looked up from the magazine you were reading, only to give him a light lipped smile with a nod.
He looked at you in amusement as you didn’t bother to spend a second more looking his way, opting to read your magazine instead.
He was particularly talkative that day, trying to get a reaction out of you but you were patient, not giving in easily until you couldn’t hold back and decided to play his game.
“Do you need help with that?” Heeseung asked, pointing towards the sunscreen which you couldn’t apply properly on your back again, he had noticed how your hands couldn’t reach your back in particular.
He just wanted an excuse to touch your soft looking skin.
Bonus for him, you were wearing a bikini which gave him access to your bare back.
He waited for a witty comeback or straight up rejected but your reply wasn’t something he was expecting, eyes widening just a fraction.
“Oh, yes! Could you please help me put sunscreen on my back?” You looked sincere as you requested this.
“Y—yes, of course I’ll help you, princess,” he smiled after overcoming the shock, rushing to wash his hands clean, despite them being clean already before he came over to you.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he saw you sitting down on the sunlounger with your back exposed to him.
He wasn’t being subtle while staring at your ass either, he was simply glad you were facing the other way as he took some sunscreen and started massaging your shoulders, applying the right amount of pressure.
You bit your lip, hating how good his hands felt massaging your body, but you had it under control.
He took his sweet time rubbing your back, before he reached your lower back. He was having the time of his life, your skin felt even softer than he had imagined and he was surprised about how you didn’t pass any comment throughout this.
Him being sneaky was the exact thing you were waiting for, his hand reaching close to your chest after he applied cream to your clavicle region.
You turned around and grabbed his wrist, bending it down and pulling him close enough to be on your face level, you stopped your mind from accepting how good it felt, you simply hated Heeseung.
“Ouch, fuck,” he cussed, not expecting you to be this strong, the pain subsided in a second as he looked you up close, your scent infiltrating his mind.
“Don’t play with me, Heeseung,” you said in a deeper octave, looking right into his eyes.
He smiled, which only urged you to continue.
“Do you have no shame? I’ll have you fired if you pull this shit again,” you warned him, letting go of his hand and standing up to leave.
However, he was quick to grab your wrist and spin you around, so you bumped right into his chest, which was hard.
“What the fuck—” you exclaimed but your voice died down soon.
His hand reached to the one spot on your neck which had sunscreen that wasn’t spread properly. He simply bit his lip and used two of his fingers to massage that spot on your neck.
It must have been your sensitive spot because your legs suddenly felt like they were jelly, your breathing quickened as you stared at his annoyingly attractive face.
“All done,” he whispered in your ear, leaving your wrist as he only smirked, walking back to do his work, leaving you stunned as you rushed inside due to embarrassment.
No fucking way you enjoyed those ten seconds with him.
As for Heeseung, he couldn’t stop thinking of how hot you looked, trying to be angry but being a mess in his presence, just thinking about your expression and your outfit together gave him a boner.
“Y/n,” he groaned with one hand on the shower wall, supporting his tall frame as the other squeezed his dick, jerking off to your thoughts, “oh god, fuck!” He grunted, thinking about how tight you’d feel around him, the scenarios were enough for him to shoot out his load, smirking at the ideas in his head.
He just needed to push you more.
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The events of that day replayed in your mind an unhealthy amount of times, you never wanted to see him again, yet you wanted the exact same thing.
You hated it.
You hated how good it felt, having his big hands on your body and you most certainly didn’t have it in you to face him today.
All you wished for was to read a book in peaceful silence, but yet again, your space was invaded when a certain Bambi eyed boy made an appearance at your place, despite it not being the day of his schedule.
Still, he had the audacity to greet you before he started singing while doing his tasks for the day.
The infuriating part? His voice was a mixture of honey and chocolate, and everything sweet in this world because you had never heard a voice to angelic before.
Not that it was enough to woo you.
Sighing, you closed your book and decided to go for a swim, but again, you were stopped.
“Wait!” Heeseung exclaimed, bringing out the cleaning net to get rid of one leaf that was in the huge pool, looking back at you with a goofy smile as he held the leaf up.
“Okay. So, you stopped me from going in because of a leaf?” You folded your arms on your chest as you tried to make sense of the situation.
“Couldn’t let a princess swim in the dirty pool,” he said, eyes getting bigger, feigning innocence.
He was a nuisance and you were running thin on patience. Your mother had graciously spoiled your day saying your manners are out of line, your father added to it, talking about how vacations were a waste of time for you.
“Aw, really?” You asked, faking your voice to sound sweet and thankful before you took a step close to him.
His eyes looked at you expectantly, but yet again, you pulled something he wasn’t ready for.
With a big smile on your face, you pushed him into the pool, hard and fell down with a big splash.
“Oops,” you said once he came out of the water, brushing his wet hair away as he breathed hard, his clothes clinging on to his body.
He looked hot.
You tried not to look at his body as you bent down to talk to him, “aw, now you’ll have to clean the whole pool, it’s so disgustingly dirty now that you’re in there.” You smiled innocently.
He poked his tongue through this cheek and gave you no time before grabbing onto your arm and pulling you right in with him.
You gasped for air, your whole body getting soaked with water as you came out just in front of him, a devilish smirk on his face.
“Are you insane?” You almost screamed at him but he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer with a serious expression on his face.
You could see his face with the top most clarity up close, his wet hair messily covering his forehead and eyes, still he looked attractive.
“Is this what you do when someone tries to help you, princess?” His voice came out deeper and his hold on you tightened.
You were glad that there were no helpers around the pool area or you would die of embarrassment, not to mention how your parents would react knowing about this situation.
“Don’t fucking call me that,” you whispered in the same tone, maintaining the eye contact.
“Yeah, right you think of yourself as the queen,” he went on.
“Stop,” you warned.
“But in reality you’re just a pretty, spoiled princess, aren't you?” He taunted in a voice that gave you goosebumps.
Giggly Heeseung was attractive enough, but him being serious was something that had you in a trance.
“Shut up,” you said in a measly voice, head fuzzy.
“Do I need to show you who you are, huh? You’re a little princess,” he went on.
“Shut the fuck up,” you raised your voice, the feeling down in your lower abdomen was something you hadn’t felt so strongly before.
“Make me,” was all he said with a smirk.
Yet what you did next was something he wasn’t prepared for.
It all happened in less than a second, your fingertips grabbing his chin, pulling him closer to your face with a gasp as you captured his lips into a rushed kiss, his nose poking yours softly.
This man drove you crazy, to the point where you had to give in just to get a taste of him.
He leaned back to look into your eyes, breaking the kiss just to see you breathe in deeper and shy away, but he didn’t let you do that.
His hand rested on the back of your head as he pulled you into a deeper, passionate kiss, causing you to whimper in his mouth, holding on to his shoulders for support.
You gasp as his hands roam around your body, leaving the places where you wanted him to touch you the most, the frustration causing you to moan into his mouth, against his smirk.
It was a rhythm of desire, passion, and exasperation. The kiss got sloppier by second and you both had to lean back to breathe. With your chest heaving up and down, you dared to look into his eyes which were clouded with lust.
Each touch, each movement from his side impacted your body in a way you never thought it would, you shivered with his touch, the smirk never leaving his lips.
“So sensitive,” he muttered, trailing his finger down your body as you still held on to him, your legs felt weaker than ever.
“Heeseung—” you tried to speak up, but only a moan left your mouth when he traced his finger on your clothed pussy.
“Guess what, princess? You’re wet,” he pointed out, coming closer to bite your ear, causing you to squirm in his hold, “and it’s not because of the water.”
“Fuck,” you let out, mind going blank.
You loved being in control, putting people in their places and ordering them around. But you never thought that being treated like this would arouse you to this point.
To the point that you’d let Heeseung do anything.
He took you out of the pool, dragging you to the changing stalls, pushing you against the door after he locked it.
“You look so innocent, I could ruin you,” he said, folding his long fingers around your neck, applying slight pressure to it.
“I know,” you spoke mindlessly and Heeseung was amused at how easily you gave in.
“Yeah? No snarky comebacks or threats this time?” He teased.
“I’m leaving,” you said, embarrassed and trying to get away with your face burning with shame, but again, it wasn’t up to you as Heeseung pushed his body closer to yours, sandwiching you between him and the wall.
“You’re not going anywhere, darling,” he whispered, pushing your bikini panties to the side.
His fingers teased at your entrance and you unconsciously bucked your hips to meet him. He grabbed your hips to stay still before moving his fingers on your wet slit again, poking his finger on your entrance yet not letting it slide in fully to your dismay.
“Please,” you whined louder than before.
“Please what, princess?” He stopped moving his fingers all together just to hear your reply.
“Please fuck me,” you let out slowly, embarrassment creeping up your neck.
“That’s a good girl, but sadly you won't get it so easily,” he said and without any warning, he pushed a finger inside your pussy, which was wet and needy and it sucked him in.
His deep grunts only turned you on more, his hard clothed cock rubbing against your ass as he tore your bikini away, adding another finger to fill your pussy, reaching a deep spot which had you seeing stars.
Your glossy eyes followed his fingers as he sniffed it, “smells so sweet,” he said in a deep breath, giving you goosebumps, his tongue swirled around, tasting your juices and humming along.
“Oh baby you’re dripping,” he smirked, getting on his knees, putting one leg on his shoulder as he wasted no time in indulging himself in eating your sweet pussy, tongue lapping at your juices and you had to bite your fist to contain your noises.
You were so close.
His finger teased your clit to heighten the stimulation, and it worked wonders as it had you rolling your eyes to the back of your head, whimpering and crying.
You reached your limit when he pushed his tongue into your hole, a loud moan leaving your lips as he went on to eat you out.
“Hee—oh my god,” you cried out, falling apart on his tongue, and he lapped up the last drop of the juices you had spilled.
You looked at him, looking sinister, his lips shining and eyes glistening with amusement as he grabbed your chin and kissed you right on mouth, giving you a taste of yourself.
You rubbed his cock through his shorts, getting a scoff out of him, “not so fast, princess. You’ll have to show me how much you want it. I’ll go take care of it till then and clean your pool, which is oh so disgusting.” He smirked, getting out and into the showering stall, leaving you dazed and wet.
You had to have his cock.
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You wouldn’t admit how much you had wanted him to fuck you directly to his face, so instead, you decided to be a menace and show him what he’s been missing.
He came back after two days, just as the schedule of his job. And it was a lucky day for you since half of the working staff had been granted a holiday today, leaving you with only the chefs and a security guard who wouldn’t ever come into the pool area.
Heeseung’s duality scared you, he came in as usual, wearing a blank tank and shorts this time, greeting you with a smile, “morning, princess,” he smirked, yet looked innocent.
“Hey, Hee,” you purposely called him a nickname, causing his smile to grow before he looked at your bikini top, which was not tied properly and showed more skin than usual.
You knew that would get his attention.
Standing up, you stretched your arms and started walking towards him, your movement caused the knot to open up fully, your tits coming into display for him.
It was so attractive how his jolly and innocent eyes turned dark within a second, but you only giggled, pushing his limits, “oops, i guess the knot wasn’t tied properly, can you help me, Hee?” You asked with a smile.
He scoffed, “that desperate for my cock?” He asked, biting his lower lip.
“I’m just asking for help,” you tried to reason and hide your guilty smile.
“Such a pathetic needy thing, you just want to be fucked, don’t you?” He took a step further and you stepped back, the butterflies in your lower abdomen not calming down for even a second, “maybe I’ll have to fuck some manners into you,” he smirked, and pushed you on the couch near the last pool, getting on top of you, ignoring your lips as he trailed his own on your neck, making sure to apply more pressure while kissing your sweet spot. Your bikini top was long discarded in the pool, your bikini bottoms joined it soon as you laid below him.
“Already wet? Seems like you’ve been waiting eagerly,” he commented, sliding his fingers into your pussy, scissoring it open for his cock to fit into your tight hole, “so ready for my dick,” he chuckled.
“Put it in,” you whimper, causing him to shut your mouth, his lips on your as he swiped his tongue on your lower lip, a gasp leaving your mouth as you kissed him back with need.
He pushed his pants down and stroked his cock a few times, all while keeping you busy with his kisses. Without giving you much warning, he poked the tip of his cock at the your entrance, your eyes widening as he deepened the kiss, pushing his hips forward, stuffing your clenching walls full of his thick length.
“Oh—fuck!” You gasped and moaned.
A smirk was plastered on his face with how needy he made you, your wetness allowing him to bottom out easily, giving you no time to adjust to his length before he started to thrust in even faster and deeper, sending you into a state of the bliss of arousal.
With your eyes rolling back, you couldn’t form sentences as he ruined you, whispering dirty nothings into your ear as he nibbled on it.
You were committing the filthiest sin yet it felt like heaven.
“So wet, so fucking tight, all for my cock, look how you’re clenching so desperately,” he chuckled.
His balls smacked against your ass, he was painfully hard and you were equally aroused, not knowing how much more you could hold it in.
“What if someone walks in and sees how dirty of a slut you are?” He continued to talk, which only made you wetter, “you would like that, won’t you? Me fucking you behind your parents.” He thrusted harder, hitting your g-spot with ease.
His hips moved with such fluidity, it made you wonder how many people he had fucked before to get this good at fucking, you were obsessed already.
It took all of your control to not scream and whimper out loud, the stretch was nothing like you had experienced before, you couldn’t help but chant his name like a mantra, over and over again, head clouded with him.
Heeseung twitched inside your pussy, pulling you up and turning you around with ease, pushing your head down and holding your ass up as he started fucking you from behind, a hand grabbing your tit while the other played with your clit.
You whimpered, gritting your teeth as the sudden tight feeling began to overwhelm your trembling frame, and he knew you wouldn’t be able to hold his back anymore, his movements getting sharper as he smacked your ass.
“Go ahead, kitten,” he whispered and that did it for you.
Shaking and whining, you finally reached your high, all senses heightened as you made a mess all over his cock.
He groaned deeply, emptying his cum into your pussy with a few thrusts, making sure you were full of him.
He stood back just to watch his cum dripping pussy and fucked out expression.
“Better start taking birth control from now,” he smirked, kissing your lips with a smack.
“Why? Will you fuck me again?” You asked, acting like a brat, “I’ll pay you.”
He scoffed, “keep your cash to yourself, queen, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to stand the next time,” he gritted out.
To his amusement, you tried to stand up, only to fall back down on the couch, “guess you can’t do it, and to think I went easy on you,” he spoke up, embarrassing you again.
Being degraded by him was your new fetish.
“What if my dad catches us?” You asked, looking away, trying to cover yourself with a towel as you changed the topic.
“Well, you’ll have to learn to be silent to not get caught, princess,” he spoke, coming closer and taking the towel away from you, gaze darkening at your figure again, aiming for a round two thinking no one was watching.
However, a certain boy named Sunghoon stood on his balcony from the mansion next to yours, the view being clear enough to show your pool area and your activities, his hand stroking his cock firmly as he watched Heeseung fuck you for the second time.
A smirk played on his face as he fucked his palm as he formulated a plan in his head.
He simply knew he’d be joining you both the next time.
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THANK YOU FOR READING! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT <3
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charlesslut16 · 11 months
Text
-En couple-
summary : you and charles were secretly dating and charles told the world about you two...
PAIRING : charles leclerc x fem!reader
WARNINGS : badly translated french
note : just to say this here : i am happy for charles and alexandra. i just did it because it got the idea for this imagine.
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Charles and you were in a secret relationship. No one knew, except for Arthur, Carlos, Lorenzo and Andrea. You both tried hiding it from them, but Arthur, Carlos and Lorenzo walked in on you two while you were cuddling in his driver's room.
Andrea and charles were almost every day together, so it was bound to happen that he would find out. He had three weeks off from racing and then it happened. You had visited him in his home for, said goodbye to him and walked out of his house on the street. 
But unfortunately, Charles and Andrea had agreed to meet up to go jogging. As always, Andrea came early and came when you left the house. Charles also came to the door to bring you something you forgot. As Andrea saw you both, he knew exactly what was going on.
But now you were standing next to Andrea while Charles was making an interview with gala for APM Monaco. He was asked questions of his personal and racing life.
Charles started with "Charles Leclerc." and the interview began.
"Date et lieu de naissance?" Date and place of birth.
"16 octobre 1997 à Monaco"
"statut?" status?
"En couple" in a relationship.
There it was. In a Relationship. You were not secret anymore, charles published your relationship to the world. You look at charles and then back to Andrea, who seemed to have the same facial expression as you did.
Not only that, but you couldn't even hear the other questions and answered, as you were stuck with his answer from before. In a relationship. Charles was always so careful with what he said on the social media. 
You and Andrea waited for charles to finish his interview. He came to you guys, gave Andrea a fist bump and gave you a kiss on your forehead, while he intertwined his hand with yours. You three walked back to his motor home.
While you walked to his motor home, Andrew and you looked at each other with confusion. Charles didn't notice, he signed photos and gave autographs, all while having a big smile on his face.
"Charles?" 
"Yes baby? "
"In the interview, you said that you were taken, but I thought you didn't want the world to know about us. " You answered him, not knowing if what you said was the right thing to say.
"I wanted it to make it public because I hate hiding our relationship. You know we are not good at that. Is it okay that I said it?" He rambled, chuckling but stopping, as he saw your unsure face. 
"It's okay, I was just surprised. But next time you drop something about us, let me know first, okay?" 
Charles nodded and gave you another kiss on your forehead. Then coming to you era whispering an 'I love you, mon amour'. Charles said goodbye to Andrea and took your hand again.
You let the day go on, talking to other people in the motor home and talking with Isa about something. Isa and you always talked about the stupidest things, when you were alone.
Before charles told the world that you were together, you could walk around the paddock without anybody asking who you were or why you were there, but now every fan asked you if you were the girlfriend of Charles Leclerc. 
In the early evening, charles and you bid farewell and went to your apartment to chill and releax your evening. You walked along the paddock, while fans asked you questions, which you didn't aswer.
 You just wanted away. Disappear. The questions were overwhelming you to the point where you wanted to cry, but charles was there to help you. You know that the fans wanted to know more about your relationship, but you thought it was too early.
Charles and you went into your apartment. You went into the shower first because charles told you that he needed to post something on his insta, so you agreed to go first. 
Charles went after you while you laid on your bed. While you were on the bed, you were scrolling through Insta, liking charles post and scrolling through his comments.
In the comments, there were many question about 'Who is that, Charles?' 'Where/When did you meet each other' or 'How long have you been together for'.
You were mid through the comments, until you felt a hand, charles hand to be precise, on your waist. You hadn't heard him, come out of the bathroom nor coming in to the room, sliding next to you.
"Qu'est-ce que tu fais, mon beau tournesol?" Charles asked you, pulling you against his body and cuddling his head in the crook of your neck. What are you doing, my beautiful sunflower?
You look your phone, tuned around in charles arms, whispered a quick 'nothing' and nuzzled yourself into his warm embrace. You were safe and sound in his arms. He shook his head, while he let out a quick chuckle, at your answer and giving you a kiss on your temple.
He turned around, with you in his embrace, turning the lamp on your nightstand off and now laying on his back, so you could put your head on his chest and cuddle him.
"Je t’aime, mon beau tournesol." I love you, my beautiful sunflower.
"Je t'aime." I love you.
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sebscore · 1 year
Note
Hello! Same anon from the charles x sister ask (not the dentist one). I love the recent fic! I cant think of anything specific that I would love to read, maybe just some cute sibling fluff between charles and reader, if not all the siblings? Thanks, you’re doing great!!
A SILVERSTONE WEEKEND | LECLERC BROTHERS
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pairings: charles leclerc x sister!reader / lorenzo leclerc x sister!reader / arthur leclerc x sister!reader / pierre gasly x leclerc!reader / ollie bearman x leclerc!reader / isa hernáez x leclerc!reader
warnings: reader is a teenager. mention of flying. swearing.
author's note: thanks for the leclerc!sister resurrection on my blog! I hope you enjoy this fic and let me know what you think of it!
• • • • • • •
Silverstone was the first race of the new racing season the youngest Leclerc sibling attended. Her summer break had just started and a small trip to England seemed the right way to celebrate the end of the school year.
Since her brothers were already in England, she had to travel on her own as her mother had to stay in Monaco for work. It had been an anxious experience, but Lorenzo would pick her up at the airport and right away they would drive to the circuit to watch Arthur's sprint race and Charles' qualifying.
''Did they take care of you on the plane?'' The eldest brother hadn't been too keen on his little sister traveling alone without any kind of chaperone to accompany her.
Y/N nodded her head, handing her suitcase to her brother. ''Yeah, they were very nice to me,'' she eased his worries, ''but can you tell Charles that I'm fine with flying coach? I was the only person sitting in first class, it was embarrassing sitting there all alone.'' She was grateful her brother had gotten her a great seat on the plane, but she found all the luxuries a bit unnecessary.
Lorenzo laughed at words, imagining his sister sitting all alone while stewardesses attend to her every need. ''He wanted to be sure you had people there to help you in case you needed it,'' his hand moved to hold his sister's, ''by the way, at first he wanted to put you on a private plane, so be grateful you got to fly commercial.''
They made their way out of the airport and into his car, on their way to Silverstone. It would take them about an hour to get there, maybe with some extra traffic. ''How did Arthur's qualifying go yesterday? I didn't check it.'' She asked him, after sending their mother a message that she had arrived safely.
''P2, so today he starts P11 and tomorrow he's on the front row.'' Lorenzo answered her, explaining Arthur's starting positions. ''That's great.''
''Have you eaten anything?''
Y/N shook her head. ''No, I woke up too late and didn't have time to eat breakfast, and I didn't eat anything on the plane, because I was scared everything would, uh, come back up again.''
''You still get sick on planes? How many times have you flown now.'' Lorenzo chuckled, surprised his sister still got motion sickness while on planes.
She shrugged her shoulders. ''It's not like I have control over it, Enzo.''
''We'll eat at the track then, they have a lot of good stuff there.''
Eventually, they arrived at the circuit and walked to the Ferrari hospitality. It was Y/N's first time at the British Grand Prix, so she attentively observed the F1 paddock. The oldest and youngest sibling ran into an old family friend, Pierre Gasly. ''Enzo and Little Leclerc.'' He greeted them, hugging Lorenzo and giving Y/N a peck on the cheek.
''It's been a while since I last saw you, Y/N!'' Pierre said, not even being able to recall when he last saw the young girl. ''I know, it's good to see you.''
She was quite close with the Frenchman as their families were. They had been on vacations together and of course she would see him when she came to support Charles. Her brother and the Alpha Tauri driver even used to be in charge of babysitting her when she was still a toddler, although that didn't always go as planned.
''She finally has a break from school.'' Lorenzo explained to him, his arm going around her shoulder. Pierre nodded, forgetting sometimes that the girl still went to school.
He ruffled her hair. ''I have to go, but root for me, alright? I'm still your favorite driver, I hope?'' Pierre joked, referring to the time Y/N had teased Charles by saying that Pierre was her favorite Formula 1 driver.
''Yeah, of course,'' she jokingly rolled her eyes, ''bye, Pierre!'' They bid him goodbye and wished him luck in the qualifying later.
After a few more minutes of walking, they made it to the Ferrari hospitality where they could already see Arthur, Joris, Andrea and Charles waiting for them at one of the tables. As soon as the latter saw his younger sister, he stood up and embraced her in a hug. ''You're finally here.'' Charles sighed.
She smiled up at him and walked around the table greeting everyone else. ''I for sure thought you would step on the wrong plane and get lost.'' Arthur teased her, ruffling her hair like Pierre did earlier.
Y/N took the seat in-between Charles and Arthur, wanting to sit near her brothers as the new environment and people made her a bit uneasy. ''Yeah, you wish I got lost.''
Lorenzo offered to get himself and his sister some food, to which she protested saying that she should at least help him with it. ''No, no! You catch up with everyone, it's no big deal.'' She hesitated, but ultimately gave up and let him go alone.
''Maman send us your grades, they were really good!'' Charles spoke up, the picture of her school results popping into his mind. Y/N nodded, proud of herself for the great results. ''Thank you.''
''She send them to everyone in her contact book.'' Arthur commented, getting a laugh out of everyone. ''I even got a message saying how you had the best results in your class.'' Andrea added, the youngest Leclerc's grades had been the topic of the week.
Charles sat up straight, suddenly remembering something. ''Oh, yeah! We got you something, to congratulate you!'' He rummaged through his bag, pulling out a crumpled white envelope.
He handed it over to his sister, letting his arm hang around the back of her chair. ''It's from your lovely brothers.'' The grins on Arthur and Charles' faces gave her some trust issues about this ''gift''.
''If it's another signed picture of Arthur, I don't want it.'' She pretended to hand the envelope over again. The brothers laughed but shook their heads, that joke had become outdated after the countless times the youngest brother had pulled it. ''It's not that! It's actually something serious this time.'' Arthur assured her, coming across as genuine.
Y/N hesitantly opened the envelope, revealing multiple gift cards for several luxury fashion brands like Chanel, Dior and Versace. She observed the cards with wide eyes, in disbelief her brothers would actually get her a useful gift.
''Oh, thank you so much!'' Her arms first went around Charles, giving him a kiss on the cheek and afterwards doing the same with Arthur.
Bright smiles appeared on the brother's faces, delighted that their baby sister liked their gift. ''You can go shopping with Maman or Charlotte when you're back home.'' Charles suggested. ''Or Carla?'' Arthur added, including his girlfriend.
Lorenzo made it back to their table, holding a plate of pasta for the young girl. ''Oh, you already got your gift! You like it, Chérie?'' It had been a last-minute kind of situation to get her the cards, having to wait whether her grades were good or not.
''Yeah, thank you so much, Enzo!'' Just like before with Charles and Arthur, she gave her oldest brother a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
''Eat up now!''
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''Arthur Leclerc crossed the line to take the win!''
Y/N proudly watched her brother take the checkered flag, already making her way to the barricades with her siblings to congratulate him on the victory. Much to her surprise, the first person Arthur ran up to was his sister instead of his engineer or other two brothers.
Normally she would push his sweaty form away, but this time she reciprocated the firm grip he had on her. ''You looked so cool, Thur! It was awesome!'' She practically yelled, not sure how much he could actually hear of it.
Arthur was semi-relieved he had his helmet on, knowing his sister would have teased him for a long time if she had seen the big smile that appeared on his face. He felt a hint of pride in himself as it was the first time Arthur was called ''cool'' by his younger sibling, at least the first time he had heard the words come out of her own mouth.
''Can we get a picture with the four Leclercs?'' One of the photographers asked them, holding his camera up. The three brothers glanced at their sister, knowing she isn't used to getting her picture taken like the rest of them. Y/N slowly nods her head, putting her arm around Charles' waist.
Arthur took a step back, taking off his helmet and balaclava for the photo. ''Do I look fine?'' He asked no one in particular.
''No, but it will do.'' She teased him, resulting in a slap on the arm from him.
The Formula 3 champion of the day wiped some sweat from his face before reaching his arm over his sister's shoulder. The four of them smile for the camera and wait until the photographer gives them a thumbs up.
''Arthur, you stink.'' Y/N tried to take a step away from him, but he pulled her back into him and rubbed his sweaty face all over the top of her hair. ''Ew! Get away from me!'' She pushed him off of her, her disgusted expression amusing her brothers very much.
''Leclerc, get on the podium!''
Y/N couldn't help but take out her phone and film as her brother took the top step, proudly lifting his trophy in the air and spraying the champagne around. She sent the video to their mom, who couldn't have been more delighted for her son's first F3 win of the season.
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''Oh, this bitch.'' Y/N mumbled to herself as Arthur was nowhere in sight.
Not too long after his podium ceremony, she had to use the bathroom. Arthur had suggested she used the one at the Prema hospitality as it was the closest one to them. Charles had to go get ready for his own race and Lorenzo joined him, telling the two youngest to meet them at his Ferrari garage.
Arthur said he would wait for her outside the bathroom and that they would go together, since the youngest Leclerc was unfamiliar with the space and their mother would kill the three brothers if they lost her. Yet, no Arthur in sight.
Y/N stood frozen in her place, not wanting to snoop around looking for her brother and potentially walk into the wrong room.
''You okay there?'' A thick British accent interrupted her internal panic, slightly flinching at the sudden appearance of someone.
She turned around and was met with a guy she guessed was around her age, and towered a bit over her. He looked familiar, she just couldn't seem to place him. ''Uh, yeah, uh, my brother- he was supposed to wait for me here and now he's gone…'' She managed to stutter out, feeling nervous under the young man's gaze.
''Arthur was called down by one of the team members to discuss the race, that can take while actually.'' He explained his absence, pointing at one of the rooms where Arthur seemed to be.
Y/N nodded, understanding. ''Ah, wait- you know my brother?'' She frowned, she didn't even tell him it was Arthur she was looking for.
The guy nervously chuckled, realizing she had no idea who he was. ''Yeah, we're teammates! I'm Ollie, Ollie Bearman.''
''Oh my god, of course! You were on the podium as well, congrats.'' Maybe she should start to pay more attention to the jobs of her brothers. ''Sorry, it's the first time I've been to a Grand Prix this year.'' She apologized.
''It's okay, really,'' Ollie brushed it off, ''you need to get somewhere or?''
She nodded her head. ''My brother is racing and I need to get to the Ferrari garage, but I have no idea how I'm supposed to get there.''
''Well if you want I can get you to the F1 paddock? I don't have a special pass, so I can't show you where the garage is, unfortunately.'' He suggested, a soft smile settled on his face.
His offer to help her brought a red blush to her cheeks. ''That would be really sweet, thank you so much.''
''Don't worry about it.'' The walk to the entrance of the F1 paddock hadn't been too long, but long enough so the young pair could get to know each other more.
In the beginning it was a little hard to get the conversation going as this was the first time the two ever met, but soon enough Ollie was sharing stories about his young karting days and his little sister's show jumping. ''My mum didn't want her to do karting.''
Y/N chuckled. ''Mine was the same! My dad always tried to persuade her, but it never worked.'' Pascale had seen the bruises her son's would come home with, there was no way she would let her daughter have the same.
''You've never karted then?''
''I've done it a few times with my brothers, but they always make it into a competition and it's not fun that way.'' She explained, recalling the few times she did go karting and ended up almost being pushed off the track by Charles and Arthur.
''I get that- oh, here we are.'' They had arrived at the entrance, both of them a bit disappointed that they had to part ways already. ''I don't think it should be too hard to find out where the garage is once you're inside.'' He assured her.
''Thanks, Ollie,'' she smiled at him, ''I really appreciate it.''
His face mirrored hers. ''No problem, uh, I'll see you around then?'' He hoped to see more of the Leclerc girl, she was very charming and unlike Arthur had claimed to him and Jak, she seemed greatly intelligent.
''Yes, I'll see you, bye!'' Y/N offered a small wave and turned around to make her way into the paddock, hoping that one way or another she would find her brother's garage.
Ollie's assurance that it wouldn't be too hard to find was the biggest lie she had heard all day. She already doesn't have the best sense of orientation and the large amount of people roaming the paddock, weren't making it any easier.
An idea popped into her head, one that she should have come up with from the beginning.
Phoning up her brothers.
Charles wasn't going to pick up, that was a given. So then she tried Lorenzo whose phone must have either died or put on silent since it didn't even go through. The last option was Arthur and like she thought, that man was never going to answer one of her calls ever. At least they couldn't say that she didn't try.
But someone must have listened to her prayers. ''Y/N?'' A voice next to her pulled her out of her thoughts, a hand laid on her shoulder. ''You okay?''
Y/N glimpsed to her side and saw Isa, Carlos' girlfriend, looking at her with concern in her eyes. ''Oh, I- I can't find my brothers.''
Isa's concerned expression changed to a relieved one, glad nothing too bad had happened to the young girl. ''I know where they are, come on.'' The older woman held out her hand, which Y/N immediately took.
''I haven't seen you since last year! How have you been?'' Her and Isa had met on a few other occasions ever since Carlos became Charles' teammate. She was very fond of her and the Spanish woman always complimented the girl.
''School just ended, so I'm doing really well.'' She nervously grinned, flustered about holding hands with her.
Isa laughed at her words. ''Oh, yeah! Charlotte said something about it, smartest girl of the class?'' She teased, quoting the words her friend had told her.
Turns out that the Ferrari garages hadn't been too far and she had been going the entirely wrong way as she and Isa were already making their way through the halls that would lead to Charles'.
''There you are!'' Lorenzo exclaimed upon noticing his sister walking in with Isa, running up to her and taking her into his arms. ''Thank you so much!'' He told Isa, who brushed it off and bid them goodbye to go support her boyfriend.
A guilty-looking Arthur appeared from behind Lorenzo. ''I'm so sorry! I wasn't away for that long, but when I got back you were already gone.'' He apologized, genuine regret audible in his voice.
''It's fine, Ollie helped me and I ran into Isa as well.'' She wasn't too mad about it, this was one of those things that she could blackmail him with for a long time.
''Ollie? My teammate? He helped you?'' The puzzled expression on Arthur's face caused a chuckle to escape.
Y/N nodded. ''Yeah, he brought me to the paddock! Very nice guy.'' The shy smile that played on her lips wasn't amusing to the youngest Leclerc brother.
''You made sure to thank him, right?'' Lorenzo didn't seem to mind that a young man her age had spent time with her, he was just relieved she had somehow found her way to them. ''Of course, Enzo.''
''What did you even talk about with him?'' Arthur continued asking, confused as to why his teammate wanted to help his sister in the first place.
His sister gave him a glare. ''One more question and I'm telling Maman you left me all alone, alright?'' The protective older brother act didn't suit Arthur at all.
''Let's focus on Charles now, okay? You two have had your moment to shine.'' Lorenzo interrupted.
''Hey! I could have been kidnapped or something!''
''Too bad you weren't- Auw! Enzo, she hit my arm!''
''You deserved it, Arthur.''
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archerinventive · 8 months
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Thank you to the crew!
Hi all. I hope you've been doing well this month.
As I start to play catchup on archiving recent faire season shenanigan's, I wanted to first and foremost start with a shout-out out to the crew that joined me at this years Midsummer Faire.
Every year comes with new challenges and obstacles to overcome, and this year was no exception, but through it all, it was the team that made it as fun and memorable as it was. ❤️
I feel truly fortunate to have found the squad I have, and I'm so grateful to have had their help and support this season and the days outside of it.
Thank you all so much. You truly add the feeling of family to faire. ❤️
More event photos coming soon. ^^
Crew: @unicorn-shieldmaiden , Rae, Liv F.H, Loni, Emma R, Alexis Baker, Anthony Orange, Ila Belle, and friend Isa L. :)
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winterstorm032802 · 3 months
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"Bonbon!"
[Look at him... he looks so afraid. But why? This is good.]
[You and Siffrin made the promise to protect everyone! And you did it!]
[It feels like a recipe. You need the right ingredients to let them know you love them and make them feel good!]
[An amazing dish. You can't get bored of this taste! The sweet aftertaste, the sugary smell.]
"Boniface?!"
['Dile! You wonder if she's proud. Haven't you done so well? Helping the team even if you're not allowed to fight like all of your family.]
"Bonnie!"
[Mira, she looks so scared for you too. But this sweet dish you made is worth it all.]
"We're coming!"
[Isa! You won't let him or anyone get hurt ever! No need to think about what would happen if they died!]
"Bonbon, it's okay, everything is okay."
[Of course it's okay, Frin. It's okay... He knows you never hated him. You were just scared... but this time? You aren't afraid.]
"You'll be going back!"
[You're not afraid...]
[Because they love you.]
[Because you love them and they know it.]
[You're not scared.]
[You're not scared.]
[You're not scared.]
[You feel like you have a stomachache.]
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THE MAIN DISH HAS BEEN SERVED!
.
.
@startagainaprologue you make such good art! Bonnie's face is so pure!
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